Choices

Choices

Part 1 of 11

By: Little Boi Blu

(m/f m fant phone sex drug)

===========================================================================

Sam arrived home from his daily workout around nine o'clock at night and

tossed his gym bag in the corner by the TV. He smelled of chlorine from his

40 laps in the pool and longed for a nice, warm shower to melt under. Most

men would have just taken that relaxing shower right there at the gym, but

not Sam. He had his reasons.

Shuffling through his one-bedroom apartment, Sam peeled off his clothes

and threw them on the bed. In the bathroom, he stood for a moment in front

of the full-length mirror and examined himself. His blonde hair was still

wet from the swim and looked almost brown under the lights. He brushed some

strands out of his face and ran his hands over his smooth pectorals,

enjoying that tight feeling he got in his chest after a good workout. Every

night, he would first workout in the weight room then swam his laps. He

didn't work out like those guys who dream of being bodybuilders, though; he

didn't want to get all bulked up. He just wanted good tone and solid

features. And Sam's body was the very model of tone and definition.

He rubbed his flat belly and patted it. Then he flexed his arms out,

stretching them forward and then up over his head. Intertwining his fingers

behind his head, he looked himself over and was pleased with the overall

shape and texture of things. With the exception of pubic hair and a light

amount under his arms, his body was virtually, and quite naturally,

hairless. And even the pubic hair and the hair under his arms was so light

in color, it almost looked as though puberty had passed him by.

He turned himself sideways and glanced at his profile. His ass was smooth

and round and protruded nicely over his taut thighs and bulging calves. He

flexed his cheeks and then rubbed at them with his hands, smacking both

sides in self-appreciation. Then sliding his hands over his hips, he teased

his penis to erection and studied that profile with less admiration. He

pushed down on the hardened shaft so that it stuck straight out and studied

it more intently. He tried to see something more, something that wasn't

really there.

Absently, he thought about the man he saw taking a shower as he had walked

through the showers to get to the pool that evening. The man was busy

rinsing his face and never saw him, so he managed to take a good, long look

without pretending not to. Sam recalled how the suds and water rolled down

over this guy's member as it hung there lazily, swaying from side to side as

he moved his hips under the shower. It was so thick... so long... so

flaccid. He imagined what that must feel like, to have something with such

girth and length dangling between his own legs like that.

The tingling that shot up between his legs brought Sam out of his stupor

and he realized that he was about to jerk himself off and spray all over the

sink. He eased his hand off his stick and watched it bob and twitch as if

trying to call him back to finish the job. The sight of that man's penis

dangling there, dribbling suds, kept flashing through his mind and he tried

to drown it out.

Sam's erection eased enough for him to take a pee and then he hopped in

the shower. Images of the man in the shower, and other men he had seen there

from day to day at the gym, kept flashing in his mind as he cleaned himself.

But when Sam would look down to see the suds washing over his own

privates, all he could feel was a sense of envy. His shower was spotted with

various moments of erection that he went out of his way to ignore, though he

knew at some point before he slept that evening, he would jerk off. And even

though he would fantasize of naked girls doing everything imaginable, he

knew he would only reach a climax when someone with a large dick entered the

picture.

After he had toweled off and slipped into a clean pair of sweats and a

t-shirt, Sam went out to his living room and sat in his only chair, a

recliner, and flipped on the TV. He sat there surfing from station to

station, completely relaxed and feeling further twinges between his legs. He

had just slid his hand down his sweats to rub at his crotch when the phone

rang.

"Hello?"

"I thought you were gonna call me earlier," the voice on the other end

complained.

It was his girlfriend, Sarah. She had plans.

"I'm sorry," he explained. "I just forgot. I had to get my workout in

and..."

"Why do you have to do that so late?" she interrupted. "You were supposed to

call me this afternoon."

"It's not as crowded at night," Sam told her.

He had told her this before, but he couldn't really explain it much further

than that. He told her he stood a better chance of getting an open lane in

the pool at night, but that wasn't true. He couldn't tell her it was because

there were fewer guys in the locker room at that time. Then he'd have to

explain in more detail. But that was out of the question.

"But you know why I wanted you to call early," she said in a more whining

voice, now, less angry and more disappointed. "I wanted you to skip the gym

tonight. I wanted to be your workout."

Of course, Sam knew that. He hadn't really forgotten to call her. It was

on his mind most of the day. It wasn't until after he was swimming laps at

the pool that he had forgotten about her and what she wanted out of him.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again. "I'll remember next time."

"The night is still young," she reasoned. "I can still come over."

Sarah forgave him easily, even though this wasn't the first time he had

tried to dodge her attempts at having sex with him. They'd been going

together for nearly six months and the closest they had ever gotten to sex

was when she let him reach in and fondle her bare breasts. She knew that

Sam was good-looking and well built and had had girls pining over him all

his life. She had even talked with some of his past girlfriends and they all

seemed to say the same thing: no sex. She wanted him more than anything and

was willing to give him whatever he wanted to take.

"I'm too tired," he sighed. "I'm about ready to fall asleep."

"Don't you want me?" she asked.

"Of course I do," he said.

He thought about the beauty of her breasts and the eagerness of her kisses

and the way she always tried to crawl all over him and how she let his hands

touch her wherever he pleased without resistance. She was cute and

intelligent and was willing to do anything for him. Her proportions were

perfectly to his liking. All his friends, and even his parents, thought they

made a great couple. He did want her.

"But I just can't do it tonight," he explained. "My body is thrashed. My

eyes are half-shut right now." He said this as he stared at the TV, still

massaging his crotch absent mindedly. "Maybe this weekend..." And the moment

the words left his lips, he regretted saying them.

"You promise?" she perked up. "This weekend, for sure?"

"Uh... yeah." He wasn't sure at all. "This weekend. I promise." Something

would come up by then, he thought.

She went on confirming that they would really have sex that weekend and he

kept on reassuring her that he would do it. As she was pondering their

weekend together, Sam flipped through a few channels and stopped when he

saw the image of some guy's bare ass in a jock strap. Apparently, he

thought, the movie channel must be having a free preview. It was a locker

room scene and when the bare ass turned, it revealed a healthy bulge that

caused Sam's erection to return.

"... and I just want to feel you deep inside of me," Sarah was purring in

his ear.

"Uh huh..." Sam responded as her talk started to get dirtier. Perhaps she

was hoping to turn him on enough to change his mind and invite her over that

night. Sam listened to her voice but stared at the bulging crotches

walking around the locker room on TV.

"I'm gonna wrap my hands around your big shaft and stroke and stroke," she

said in a low whisper. Sam's shaft was fully extended underneath his

sweats and he rubbed at it while straining to see glimpses of swaying cocks

in the shower scene.

Sarah was convinced that Sam had an extremely large cock and was just shy

about it. He had even told jokes and made comments over the course of their

relationship that suggested that she was correct. He liked having her think

that way of him.

Sam's shaft was fully extended underneath his sweats and he rubbed at it

while straining to see glimpses of cock in the shower scene.

"And I'll get down on my knees and kiss it all over," she promised. "I can

just picture it, now... so long and hard."

And then Sam caught sight of one of the men in the background of the scene

bending over and he saw two, bull-like testicles hanging low, though not as

low as the head of a very healthy penis. It only appeared for a

spilt-second, but Sam imagined what the rest of it must look like... like

what Sarah was describing in his ear.

"After I get it all lubed up with my mouth, you can turn me over and slide

it in so deep it makes me shiver... and then fuck me like a dog until I

scream for mercy!"

Sam was breathing in and out deeply and his dick still twitched after the

shower scene was over. He continued to rub himself through the material,

eager to get off the phone so he could lie on the bed and stroke himself and

get those images out of his head.

"I'll bet you've got a raging hard-on right now, huh?" Sarah said.

Sam paused for a moment, realizing he was breathing a bit too heavily into

the phone. "Yeah," he said.

"That monster probably ripped a hole right through your jeans just thinking

about what I'm gonna do with it," she guessed.

Sam glanced down at the small, tented area of his crotch and the

undisturbed elastic waistband of his sweats. Images of the man at the gym

rinsing his body and rubbing at his flaccid, soapy cock flashed through his

mind again, followed by the man on TV bending over in the shower. He

imagined what their erections must look like as his own danced below the

fabric.

"I'd better go," he said abruptly. Sarah took this abruptness to mean that

she had gotten him too horny.

"Maybe I could come over real quick and help you out?" she suggested.

"Uh... no, no. Not tonight."

"Stay on the line," she purred. "If I can't come over tonight, then at least

let me get you off over the phone." They had never done that before, but she

was hot, too. On the other end of the line, Sarah had her hand down her

panties and was stroking herself with fantasies of Sam's massive member

deep inside her, pumping away.

"I... I can't," he said. "It's just too weird right now." But he wasn't

exactly talking about her phone skills. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Mmm... okay," she answered. Sarah was having trouble holding her phone, at

that point, anyway. "Just tell me... tell me... how big is your cock? I want

to dream about it tonight."

The relentless images of men in showers fueled Sam's response. "Just

imagine... well... you have a ruler, right?"

"Yeah?" she said, waiting eagerly.

"Well, all I can say is that it doesn't go past the 12-inch mark." He said

this in a way that suggested that his rod came very close to that mark.

Sarah moaned and called him a tease and confessed for the first time since

they met that she had always preferred the bigger boys. "I wish you were

here to fuck me right now," she added.

"Gotta go," he said, leaving her hanging with that thought.

Sarah moaned some more and complained about how cruel he was and they

exchanged a few more suggestive words before the conversation finally ended.

At that point, Sam had to get up and walk around to try and clear his

head. His erection had ebbed and he walked to the fridge and got a drink of

cold water and stared into the glass trying to think straight.

The ringing of the doorbell pulled him from his thoughts and halfway to the

door, he paused. He had lots of friends, but wasn't expecting any of them on

a work night. He wondered if maybe it was Sarah. Maybe she had been calling

from nearby on a cell phone. A sudden panic gripped him. He crept the

remainder of the way to the door and carefully looked through the peephole.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was just some

confused-looking pizza guy trying to read a piece of paper in his hand. He

opened the door and asked the guy if he was lost.

"Probably," the pizza guy sighed with disgust. He was a kid just out of high

school who stood around 5'7", the same height as Sam. He had short brown

hair and blue eyes and had a face that made him look younger than his 19

years suggested.

"Are these the Condor apartments?" the kid asked.

"No," Sam answered. "These are the Western Estates."

The kid scratched at his head and muttered, "Damn."

Sam tucked his hands under his arms as a gust of cool air hit him and

chuckled at this poor kid's frustration.

"This is the third place I've been and I have no clue where these apartments

are," he griped.

"I've never even heard of the Condors," Sam shrugged.

The kid waved the piece of paper in his hand. "Fuck," he growled. "They're

gonna fire me if I keep screwing these up."

"Don't know what to tell you," Sam said with another shrug.

"Hey, would you mind if I used your phone to call this customer? Maybe they

can give me directions."

Sam looked him over a bit and he seemed like the harmless, lanky sort so

he agreed to let him in. The kid thanked him and Sam directed him to the

phone sitting on the armrest of the recliner.

Shutting the door behind him, Sam watched the pizza kid punch numbers on

the phone and a sudden flash of nervousness hit him as he realized that the

TV was still on the free movie channel. The thought of another shower scene

coming on sent him into a quick panic and he went over as casually as he

could manage to change the channel.

"I've just got to... uh... set my VCR," Sam explained to him as he stood

in front of the TV to block the screen. Then he bent down and fumbled with

the buttons on his VCR as though he were actually doing something other than

changing the channel. He was too lost in his own sense of embarrassment to

hear the voice behind him say anything like, "Yeah, I'm here," or "Give me

about ten minutes."

It wasn't until Sam noticed a silence behind him that he thought to stop

playing with his VCR buttons and see what the kid was doing. But there was

no time left for standing or turning or seeing.

A damp cloth was thrust suddenly into Sam's face and the hand behind it

clamped down firmly over his nose and mouth. Another arm grabbed him around

the chest, just under his arms, and pulled him backwards to the floor. Two

legs wrapped around Sam's waist.

Lost in shock, Sam inhaled the fumes on the cloth deeply before he could

even try to think what was happening to him. The pizza kid was like a

clinging parasite on his back as they rolled on the floor. A second

inhalation of the fumes sent Sam flailing as he realized it was

chloroform, but by that point, it was already too late. Sam's eyesight

went hazy and his head started to spin. His struggle to get the parasite off

his back was in vain, despite the obvious muscle advantage. He couldn't stop

breathing in the fumes.

In no time, the struggle was over and Sam's world went black.

Part 2 of 11

By: Little Boi Blu

(m/m auth bond leather oral)

===========================================================================

Sam awoke slowly as if the whole night had been a dream. He had a dull

aching in his jaws as he began to realize that he was seated in his

recliner. Worse yet, it was quite apparent that he had been relieved of all

his clothes. His discovery of what had become of him since blacking out was

a rapid process that can only be described as step-by-step

His mouth was wide open, as if caught in an intense yawn, but when he tried

to close it, the pain in his jaws intensified. Stretched open to its limit,

his mouth was being held that way by devices on each side, separating his

jaws.

Instinctively, he tried to reach up with his hands to feel what they were

and found his situation growing more desperate. His hands were encased in

leather bags like bad mittens that a kid can't make snowballs with. Those

coverings were attached to leather bands wrapped around his wrists, and

those bands were each secured to a metal ring that had been screwed into

each arm of his chair.

His left leg was flung over the left arm of the chair and his right leg

flung over the right arm of the chair. Each leg was secured in that position

by leather bands around his knees, tethered to the rings. Leather cords

attached to ankle bands ran back down behind the chair, keeping him from

swinging his feet. It effectively left Sam spread-eagled in his recliner,

with a hand on each arm of the chair, unable to reach or grab or cover up

his most vital areas.

Around his neck was a leather collar. A leather cord connected to each side

of the collar was wrapped around the headrest of the chair, allowing Sam a

limited range of head movement.

Sam went into an immediate panic and squirmed and struggled and issued

noises from his gaping mouth that would have been words had he been able to

close his jaws and bring his lips together. He went on vainly like this for

several minutes until, confused and exhausted, he paused to catch his

breath. Saliva from his open mouth ran down his chin, adding to the growing

stream that crossed his muscular chest and ran down his abdomen and pooled

at his navel.

"Keep making noise like that and someone will hear you," a calm voice said

from behind the chair. "They'll run up here and open the door and rescue

you. And that won't be hard, since the door's unlocked."

Sam tilted his head up as much as he could to try and see who it was that

was speaking. It didn't sound like the pizza kid. This voice was much

deeper. This voice was more direct and sure of itself. Sam let out another

series of word-like noises and felt his jaws burning with pain from being

open so long and so wide.

"That's it," the voice encouraged him. "Keep making noise. Then someone will

run up here and open that door and see you like this. They'll say something

like, 'What the hell's going on, here?' And I'll say we were just having a

little fun. And they'll see you there, sitting like that. They'll get a

good, long look at you."

Sam glanced down at himself and contemplated what the man behind him was

saying. More drool escaped his mouth as he tugged at his collar and examined

his position. He looked at himself spread-eagled. His bare ass jutted

slightly forward and his penis was shriveled atop his nervous scrotum. Who

would he want to see him like this? No one. Absolutely no one.

"Well," the voice said. "I can tell from your silence that you've thought it

through now. Good. Would you like me to lock the door? Or shall I leave it

the way it is?" He paused. "Because, if you want, I have no problem with

opening the door to let some air in. Are you hot?"

Sam shook his head slowly, moaning a "no" as best he could.

"So you think I should lock the door and keep others out?" the voice asked.

"Just you and me, then?"

Sam thought of Sarah walking in, or any number of his neighbors in the

complex that knew him, or his mom or dad. He suddenly wanted that door

locked at all costs and reluctantly nodded his agreement.

"Good," the voice said. Sam listened as he heard footsteps cross the room

and then the clicking of the lock. "I'm glad you want to be alone with me

like this."

A slight shadow passed over Sam's body and then he saw the owner of the

voice step into view. It was an older man in his late 30's who stood taller

than Sam and wore a long, leather coat that made Sam's nose twitch. He

stood right in front of Sam, between his spread legs, and stared straight

down at Sam's crotch with a grin.

Sam kept waiting for the man to say something, to explain what was going

on, to do anything except stand there and stare at his exposure with that

smirk on his face. Sam tried to say "What?" as if to get him to say

something. All the while, Sam's hands strained against their tethers to

reach down and cover his embarrassment. The muscles in his legs twitched

vainly in attempts to close the gap. But soon, Sam was staring down at his

crotch, too.

"Embarrassing, isn't it?" the man finally spoke.

He pulled a small ruler from his pocket as if he had been waiting for just

the right moment and knelt down. Without any pretense, he took his right

thumb and index finger and pinched at Sam's cowering penis. Sam

shuddered and twitched and his hands grasped desperately in their coverings

to stop him, but this movement only seemed to please the stranger more.

Sam had never had another man touch him there before like that.

The man's two fingers dwarfed Sam's tiny little member. He pinched at his

penis as if his fingers were tweezers and held it up gently and placed the

ruler against it. Sam squirmed to no avail.

"One and a quarter inches," he announced.

Sam wanted to scream. He wanted to curl up into a ball and make it all

stop. His legs trembled and the man ran his left hand over Sam's smooth

ass cheeks while continuing to hold the penis in a pinch. He admired the way

those hairless cheeks jiggled when Sam fought.

Without any words, the man began kneading Sam's penis between his fingers.

He stretched and tugged and rubbed at it and it responded obediently. Sam

tried to fight it, simply because it's what he felt he should do. It didn't

seem right for another man to be doing that to him. It just wasn't right.

But it was a fight he was losing.

As Sam's penis kept responding to the man's touch, the phone rang. Sam

turned his head towards the ringing behind him with renewed panic, but the

man ignored it and continued his work. After the third ring, the answering

machine picked up. Soon, he could hear Sarah's voice.

"Well, I guess you're either sleeping or busy jerking off," she said. "If

you're sleeping, I hope you're dreaming of fucking me with that huge tool of

yours this weekend."

Sam looked down at the man rubbing his penis. The man glanced up at him

with another smirk. His thumb rolled in circles under the glans and sent a

tingle down between Sam's legs. His penis began pulsing and bobbing to the

man's touch with greater intensity and was quickly nearing its peak.

"I know I'll be dreaming of that big monster sliding in and out of me

tonight. Just the thought of it is making me hot again."

Sam shook from the sharp, pleasant tingle that brought his erection to a

rock-solid state. The man pinched hard at the sides of his shaft to

determine that it was now hard enough to measure.

"And if you're jerking off," Sarah said, "save some for me. And be sure to

use both hands. Don't want that thing to get away from you." She let out a

devilish laugh and wished him sweet dreams and hung up.

Sarah's timing couldn't have been any worse. Sam watched the ruler placed

up against his erection despite every objection his mind and body could

muster and waited helplessly until the man announced, "Four and three

quarter inches."

Then he released Sam's "monster tool" and let it bob around at attention,

still hard as a rock. The man set the ruler down and rubbed his hands over

Sam's inner thighs. Every so often, he would flick a finger at the penis

and send it bobbing back and forth, side-to-side.

"You didn't seem to get your erection going," he observed, "until your

girlfriend got on the phone and started talking about big dicks."

The man looked up at Sam while massaging up and down his bare, quivering

legs. "Do you like big dicks, boy?"

Sam's little stick started pulsing and bobbing on its own. He wanted it to

go soft now; he wanted it to stop betraying him. But it seemed to get even

harder as the man spoke. Sam shook his head as if to deny what his penis

was saying.

The man stood up with a grin of disbelief and undid the leather strap around

his long coat. As the coat slid off, Sam saw a sturdy, solid, muscular

body with a fair coat of hair on the chest and upper arms. It seemed that

any lower-body hair, however, had been shaved clean. His muscles were far

less defined than Sam's, but it was clear that he was built more for

strength than show. There was a slight stoutness to his belly, but even

there it seemed to be all muscle. Leather straps crisscrossed his rounded

pectorals and connected to a metal ring in the middle. His legs, wrapped in

leather pants, were like tree trunks.

But the most prominent feature this man had was in the pouch at his crotch,

which was made of black nylon. It covered the otherwise opened area of the

man's pants that extended from the low waistline to somewhere down between

his legs, leaving his bare ass hanging round and smooth behind him. Like

those men in the shower, the whole package dangled there between his legs,

swaying with his movement, straining against the nylon. Sam could see the

outline of his fat tool pressed up against the mesh, resting nicely over two

equally restrained balls.

The continuous pain in Sam's jaws served to inform him that there was a

good reason why his mouth was propped open like it was. And the exposure of

his ass had meaning, too. But all that was lost on Sam at the moment. He

couldn't seem to take his eyes off this man's crotch. He couldn't help

admiring the size and shape and sway of it all. And in ways he wouldn't

quite admit to himself, he wanted to see more of it. Meanwhile, Sam's

penis was straining to go beyond its four and three quarter inches and the

saliva was dripping from his chin to his chest in a puddle like some hungry

dog.

"I've been watching you for months, boy," the man said. "Ever since you

first stepped foot in the gym and I saw you undressing over in the corner of

the locker room. At first, I was just admiring your body. It's a damn

beautiful thing! But it wasn't until I caught a glimpse of your little boy

stick, here, that I realized I could have you."

The man rubbed at his bulging sack as if to acknowledge that he knew Sam

was staring at it. Sam's erection continued to pulse against his will.

"I remember watching you once last month in the locker room," the man went

on. "You thought you had picked a row to yourself. You just got down to your

underwear when these two boys from the pool came right up next to you. They

looked like a couple of teenagers. I could see you start to panic. You still

had to change from your shorts to your swimsuit before you could get away

from them."

The man leaned in as he spoke and tapped at Sam's solid little stick. Then

he began rubbing the collection of saliva around on Sam's chest and

abdomen, making slow, circular strokes until his whole upper body was

glazed.

"Both boys slipped out of their bathing suits right away," he said as he

rubbed. "And they just stood there talking and joking with each other as

they dried off. You sat down on a stool and tried to play it off like you

were looking for something in your bag, but I saw you watching them out of

the corner of your eye. And they just stood there talking with their towels

over their shoulders. They weren't in any hurry. And both of them were hung.

Both of them were bigger than you'll ever be. They were fatter and longer

and perfectly comfortable standing there next to you, letting their pieces

dangle in your face."

Sam made eye contact with the man just then. He tried to be defiant but

was only stared down until he turned away and moaned at the pain in his jaw,

perhaps hoping to distract the man from his locker room observation. But the

man just rolled his wet fingers around Sam's nipples until they became

hard and went on talking.

"Finally, you couldn't fake it any longer," he said. "You knew you had to

slip those shorts off, so you stood up and turned your back to them and

tried to pull your shorts off as fast as you could. You got 'em off okay.

But when you started to put on the swimsuit, your feet got tangled and you

stumbled and bumped into one of the boys. He had to help keep you from

falling on your ass. Do you remember their faces when they got a good look

at you all sprawled out in front of them? Remember how they held back their

laughs until after you walked away?"

Sam glanced down briefly at his own body. His nipples were hard. His penis

was hard. His jaws ached. His whole body seemed glazed in his own saliva and

now the man was stroking his thighs again. And he could do nothing but feel

it all and listen, just like he could do nothing but stand in front of those

boys with his swimsuit tangled about his ankles and see them smirking at his

nervous little prick. And yes, he had been looking at their magnificent

tools as they stood there in a sort of confidence that he didn't know. And

he was full of envy.

"You wish you had a cock like theirs, don't you?" the man said to him.

"Didn't you just want to reach out and touch them? Feel them? Know what it

was like to hold one that size, just once? Or to know what it would be like

to have one dangling between your legs like a real man? I'll bet you

fantasize about it all the time."

The man pinched at Sam's erect nipples, snapped his fingers on Sam's

little hard-on, and then stood up over him again. He towered over him

ominously with his hands on his hips and the nylon fabric on his crotch

threatening to split open at any moment.

"Now here's your first choice of the evening," the man said. "And these are

your only choices, so if you don't choose one or the other, then I'll choose

for ya. Do you understand?"

Sam glanced upwards and stared absently. His penis was still the good,

little soldier, standing at attention, and the ache in his jaws was making

his head swim.

"I said, 'do you understand,' boy?" He said it with a tinge of irritation

that made Sam realize he should probably respond.

Sam reluctantly nodded.

"Good," he said. "Then your first choice is this." He then leaned in again

and casually stuck a couple of fingers into Sam's gaping mouth and probed

around against the protest of Sam's floundering tongue.

"I can either stick my cock in your mouth." he said "or." then he took his

wet fingers out of Sam's mouth and gently laid his index finger down

between Sam's legs, rubbing it down Sam's smooth, tender crack and over

his exposed hole, causing his entire body to shudder.

"Or," he said again, "I can stick my cock in your tight little asshole,

here."

After circling his wet fingertip around Sam's hole enough times to

demonstrate to him that there was nothing to stop him from going there at

will, the man ran his finger up Sam's smooth crack and grinned again at

the little penis sporting it's full length.

"It's either one or the other," the man said matter-of-factly. "I won't do

both. But if you don't choose now, then I'll choose for you." He paused and

examined Sam's ass. The cheeks were smooth, hairless and full, only

serving to make Sam's little penis and balls look all the more boyish

beneath its mound of curly blonde hair.

"And I've gotta say," the man added, "that's one fine piece of ass you've

got there, boy."

Sam tried to speak, but his tongue just flailed about as he searched for

words or noises that made sense. More saliva spilled to his chest. He didn't

want to make either of those choices. He wanted to deny it all, but he could

still taste the man's fingers that probed his mouth and could feel the

wetness on his quivering ass. This man could do whatever he wanted to him.

Sam attempted to answer, attempted to make his choice.

"Just say 'mouth' or 'ass,'" the man told him.

Sam closed his eyes and yielded, gurgling as close as he could get to

'mouth' and the man understood. The man was expecting that answer. It was

the answer he wanted Sam to make, anyway.

"Then mouth, it is," the man said with a smile. Without any fanfare, the man

tugged at some strings near the nylon mesh of his crotch and Sam's eyes

were opened again and staring intently as the nylon fell away and out

dropped the man's heavy package.

Sam's eyes widened. This man's penis didn't lean to one side or the other

but hung straight down. It wasn't fully cut, but wasn't fully uncut, either.

It had just enough foreskin to allow the glans to peek out and enough folds

to indicate the promise of incredible length. The pee hole was a perfect,

closed slit that glistened slightly. And the shaft had a flaccid girth that

was already twice the size of Sam's. The entirety of Sam's erection

could have been hidden completely under this man's flaccid pole.

The man's balls slid down from their cramped, nylon resting position and

dangled like two ripe fruit, one slightly lower than the other but each

plump and full. As he moved in closer, Sam leaned back more and more into

the chair but never stopped staring.

"Now you have another choice," the man said, as if he were following the

plan of some playbook. "I can stroke up my ten inches and ram it straight

down your throat and fuck your mouth to my pleasure. Or I can release those

dividers in your mouth and you can lick and suck my dick to your pleasure,

taking in as much as you can without gagging. But either way, I'm gonna cum

in your mouth. You're gonna taste my cum. You're gonna swallow my cum. And

you're gonna lick me clean."

There were no choices about being released from the chair or having this man

leave his apartment without doing anything at all to him. Sam didn't want

to acknowledge any of the choices he was being given. But he was in no

position to argue.

"Before you choose, however," he said with a glare, "let me make one thing

perfectly clear." The man produced one of the steak knives from Sam's own

kitchen and took the point of it and pressed it up into Sam's left

testicle. Sam had no way of escaping it and broke out in an immediate

sweat as he felt the steel press against his sensitive flesh to the point

where he could feel the possible danger.

"If you choose to free your jaws, there will be no biting. If you so much as

think of doing any harm to my cock, I'll rip your balls off with this knife

and make you eat them. Do I make myself clear?"

Again, he pressed with the knife, just to make sure that Sam knew his

position. And Sam understood his situation quite clearly, even more so

than before, and so he nodded quickly. Satisfied that Sam was sincere in

his understanding, the man set the knife down and asked Sam if he wanted

his jaws released to do the sucking himself.

Left with only those two options, Sam nodded, choosing to at least relieve

the pain in his jaws.and perhaps save himself from getting choked to death

by this man's cock.

"Okay, then. Let's get down to business."

As the man reached in and loosened the devices holding Sam's mouth open,

he explained to Sam that he was to do no talking unless told to. He

expected complete obedience or he would open the front door and invite all

the neighbors up to see the show. He knew this scared Sam as much as the

knife to his balls.

"There," the man said as he set aside the two stainless steel devices. Sam

slowly closed his aching jaws. It was painful doing that. The man even

helped by rubbing Sam's cheeks up by his ears until his mouth was able to

shut. "Remember," he told Sam. "You only talk if I tell you to. Do you

understand, boy?"

The knife. The door. His position. He worked his jaw loose and nodded his

understanding. He would be quiet and do what he was told and hope at some

point he could be released under acceptable terms.

"Good boy," the man said. "Now I want you to call me 'Daddy'," he told him.

The man tilted the recliner back with the side lever, tightening the pull on

Sam's arms from his secured wrists. The overhead light glared in his eyes.

"Look at my cock and say 'Daddy'."

Sam hesitated, confused by the backwards movement and the light. The man

reclined the chair until he was able to straddle his legs over Sam's chest

and dangle his massive member right in his face. "Say it!" he demanded.

Sam looked straight at the head of the man's tool hiding within the folds

of skin, waiting to stretch out to meet him. The word escaped his tired

lips. "Daddy." And he realized this was it: he was going to suck this man's

cock.

Sam's 'Daddy' raised his flaccid member up slightly with his hand and

brought the nub of his cock to within an inch of Sam's lips. "Do you see

my pee hole?" he asked.

Sam nodded.

"Answer me, boy!"

"Yes," Sam answered with some hesitation.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes.I."

"My name, boy. Always address me properly. Say, 'Yes, Daddy'."

Sam swallowed hard, staring at the slit near his lips. "Yes, Daddy."

"Now stick your tongue out and wiggle it around in the hole."

Telling himself that he was only doing it because he had no choice, Sam

slowly let his tongue slip from his lips and made his first, trembling

contact with Daddy's massive member, parting the slit.

"Get the tip in there," Daddy instructed. "Good, good, just wiggle it in

there. Now lean in and let your lips push back the foreskin. Start sucking

the head into your mouth."

With the tip of his tongue lodged in Daddy's pee slit, Sam leaned his head

forward ever so slightly and his lips got their first full taste of it.

Daddy's soft foreskin gave way to Sam's virgin lips and the cock head

crept into his opening mouth like an eager snake.

"Now roll your tongue around it," Daddy told him. "Get it nice and wet."

As Sam did this, he could sense the monster growing. The head of it in his

mouth began to swell and Daddy had to scoot back a bit to allow for the

growth without gagging his boy. For all the discomfort and violation he had

suffered, Sam found the feel of the silky skin in his mouth to be rather

pleasant, though he tried not to think about it that way. He swirled his

tongue around and around to get it wet the way he was told. He had to keep

opening his mouth wider as more of Daddy's meat slid in and grew.

"Tastes good, doesn't it?" Daddy pulled his growing member from Sam's

mouth and waited for a response. "Answer me, boy."

Sam couldn't take his eyes off Daddy's cock as it glistened from its first

meeting with his tongue. It was still soft and flexible in Daddy's grip. It

was thick and long, at least seven inches showing, with more to go. "Yes,

Daddy," Sam said. That's what the answer had to be, he figured. He kept

telling himself it meant nothing. It was just something he had to do to save

himself from being hurt.

Daddy smiled down at him. "Now, you know where the most sensitive areas are.

I want you to show me with your tongue." Daddy let his cock flop around on

Sam's face, wiping the moist head from cheek to cheek. "Come on, boy," he

taunted. "Get that tongue out. Lick the best places."

Sam got his tongue out again and began licking the underbelly of Daddy's

cock, just below the glans. Daddy moaned his approval and seven inches

became eight. Knowing where he liked his own penis rubbed, Sam's

inhibitions began to ebb and within minutes, he was licking Daddy's big cock

like a candy stick in all the right places. The size and feel and smell of

it against his tongue and lips and face quickly erased the line between what

men should and shouldn't do and what simply felt good. Eight inches became

nine, and nine ten, and before long, Daddy had reached the glory of a full

erection.

Sam had to lick and suck on the areas of Daddy's cock that he could reach

and Daddy had to step back and press down on his shaft to make sure the

proper attention was given to every area. Daddy swayed his hips as he fed

Sam his tool. "It tastes good, doesn't it, boy?"

Between the loud, wet slurps of his tongue, Sam responded properly, "Yes,

Daddy."

"I want to hear you moaning those words over and over as you suck me off,

boy," the man instructed. "I want to hear you moaning, 'Yes, Daddy. Oh, yes,

Daddy'."

Daddy's monster snake was soon glistening with Sam's efforts and he began

inserting his head back into Sam's mouth repeatedly until trickles of

saliva were running down the shaft and dripping onto Sam's chest. Sam

began moaning the words, "Yes, Daddy," as the regal head of Daddy's cock met

his lips. "Oh, yes Daddy," as Sam's tongue danced and snaked its way up

and down along the shaft. And what started out as strict obedience soon

became genuine moans and groans of pleasure and desire as Sam repeated

those words with greater intensity and desire.

Sam had lost all sense of who he was or what position he was in and the

only thing that seemed to matter was being close to Daddy's big cock as it

slid all over his face. Daddy's moans and groans of pleasure encouraged

Sam to work harder to please him.

"Now I want you to start saying 'More, Daddy, more'."

Daddy's massive member slid out from Sam's wet lips and Sam wasted no

time in begging, "More, Daddy, more!" as if that's exactly what he wanted to

say. He quickly lunged at Daddy's cock and sucked it back into his mouth for

another tongue bath and nearly gagged as it approached the back of his

throat. His eyes watered as he sucked on the end of Daddy's pole like a

nursing babe.

Daddy pulled the dripping head of his cock out of Sam's mouth again and

humped his long shaft slowly up and down over Sam's face as his boy licked

and kissed from below. "It's a beautiful cock, isn't it, boy?"

"Oh, yes, Daddy," Sam answered as he kissed. "Yes!" And Sam found

himself wanting his hands free to grip the shaft of Daddy's cock with both

hands and control it for himself. It was so big, so thick, so soft and yet

so hard and massive. He wanted to know what it felt like to hold it. Yes, he

found it to be quite beautiful.

Then Daddy humped his way up Sam's face so that his balls came into range.

Daddy's balls were shaved bare and before Daddy could tell him what to do,

Sam licked his way down to them and began kissing them and suckling them

and marveling at how full and heavy and smooth they felt against his wet

touch.

"Pretty soon, I'm going to unload those in your mouth," Daddy told him as he

delighted in the pleasure of Sam's sudden eagerness. "Mmm.you want Daddy's

cum in your mouth, don't you, boy?"

Sam's face was smothered in Daddy's manhood. He was breathing it all in

and tasting it and had no real sense of what it all meant, but he was too

far gone in what he was doing to think rationally about it. "Yes, Daddy," he

moaned after rolling his tongue across Daddy's ball sack, which seemed to be

rising just a bit.

Daddy slid back down and let Sam press the flat of his tongue on the

underside of his cock head and roll it around. Pre-cum oozed from Daddy's

cock out onto Sam's tongue and was smeared around as the licking

continued. Finding the new taste strange but pleasant, Sam lapped at the

pee slit and sucked more of the warm juice from Daddy's tool.

"Get it all, boy," Daddy encouraged him as he moaned his approval. Sam was

licking that head so passionately now, Daddy was getting ready to explode.

He hadn't had an orgasm in days, saving it all up for this moment. And

Sam's tenacity, though not wholly unexpected, was getting him off faster

than anticipated. Daddy also noticed that Sam's little penis was still

bobbing erect below him, further indication that his boy was enjoying his

work.

Daddy then placed his hands on Sam's head and Sam, sensing what was

next, opened his mouth willingly and accepted the final insertion of Daddy's

monster. Daddy directed Sam's eyes upwards and told him to prepare for a

large gush of cum. Daddy didn't want him to swallow right away, though. He

wanted Sam to let it all collect in his mouth and then wait until he was

told before gulping it down.

Though his mouth was too engorged speak, his eyes said it all. "Yes, Daddy."

Sam continued to stare up at the hairy, muscular upper body of the man

that towered over him and controlled him. His tongue swirled around the huge

flesh pole frantically, dancing to the inevitable. Daddy's moans of pleasure

grew more intense until, at last, he placed his hands on the corners of

Sam's jaws and pulled out enough to let the first burst of cream shoot

into his mouth.

Sam almost inhaled it when he felt the warm stream gush into the back of

his throat. But he recovered in time to open his mouth wider to accept the

second wave, which produced more than the first. Daddy began stroking his

pole with both hands as Sam obediently kept his mouth open to receive one

shot after the other. His mouth was soon filled with a pool of creamy

whiteness.

With each intense spasm, Daddy milked his shaft until the quivering subsided

and the last major glob of cum dropped into Sam's waiting mouth. The pool

of cream had risen to the brim of Sam's lower lip and he held it all

there, trembling at the fullness, afraid for what was next, unable to move

for fear of letting some spill and upsetting Daddy.

Daddy slowly stroked himself down as he caught his breath and admired his

handiwork. As his massive tool began to soften, he dipped the head into

Sam's mouth and then wiped it off around Sam's nostrils so he could

breath it in.

"Now close your mouth, boy," Daddy instructed. "Close your mouth and swish

it all around."

Sam slowly brought his lips together and winced. He had nothing to compare

this taste to. It was warm and gooey and it filled his cheeks as he slid it

all around the way Daddy ordered. It was also the pinnacle of his

submission. With Daddy's last instruction, he swallowed it down in gulps.

And even after he had finished swallowing, he could still taste and feel it

in his mouth, as though it would always be there for him. And perhaps it

would. With Daddy's cum stains drying in his nostrils and the taste of him

fully on his lips, Sam felt deliriously owned and used.

When Daddy started rubbing his flaccid tool against Sam's lips again,

Sam licked at the last of the oozing cum escaping from the pee slit as if

licking from an ice cream cone. Without any instruction from Daddy as to

what to do with it, he simply let it glaze his lips.

Parts 3 and 4 of 11

By: Little Boi Blu

(m/m auth blackmail spank)

===========================================================================

Part 3

======

Sam sat at his desk with his elbows resting near his keyboard and stared

blankly at the screen. The day had been like any other. He woke up. He

showered and dressed. He ate some toast and drank some orange juice and

drove to work. And throughout the day, he wandered around the office smiling

and chatting and doing his work as if nothing were out-of-the-ordinary. The

girls at work all flirted with him and he flirted back. Jokes were made.

Lunch breaks taken. Meetings held.

But he wondered how normal things would be, how much those girls would be

willing to flirt, if they knew what he had done last night, if they could

have seen how he had licked at some guy's large cock like candy and

swallowed a mouthful of cum. And he thought how much they all would have

laughed had they been there to see him spread-eagled in his chair, being

measured out to a mere four and a half inches while his little stick

bobbed uncontrollably.

No, it hadn't been a normal day at all for Sam. His body was there, but

his mind was lost in a fog. He kept wiping at his nose and the corners of

his mouth all day, as if he could still feel and smell the smears of Daddy's

white cream on his face. In his daily meeting, he couldn't stop himself from

stealing glances at the crotches of every man sitting in the room and was

certain they all knew he was doing it. He held books and folders in front of

his own crotch whenever he got up to walk somewhere, sensing that everyone

was looking there and noticing the lack of a manly bulge.

He was overreacting. He was becoming paranoid. Could they all see it in his

face? Could they all see his shame in the way he looked at other men? Was it

obvious what he had done? He was terrified that someone would find out.

And so he sat there at his desk, minutes away from leaving the office for

home, staring at his screen and contemplating what might await him when he

left.

"Hey, going to the gym tonight?"

Sam snapped out of his trance and turned around. It was his friend, Colby,

from marketing. He and Colby occasionally played racquetball together at the

gym when they weren't double-dating with their girlfriends. Sam always

took extra care not to let Colby see him naked. Not that that ever prevented

Sam from catching sight of Colby in the buff. While similar in build,

Colby had the advantage Sam desired most. He had gotten several good peeks

at Colby's healthy member and that was the first thing that came to Sam's

mind when he turned and saw that particular curve at eye level.

"Uh... no, not tonight," Sam answered. He knew Colby wore boxers. He could

tell where Colby's dangling staff was pressed up against his Dockers and

Sam glanced away quickly.

"Thought you went every night," Colby said. He leaned against the partition

of the cubicle and all Sam could think of was how Colby's fleshy organ was

sliding around inside the fabric. He found himself wanting to go to the gym

just to see it again and he hated himself for feeling that way.

"Too much stuff to do at home," Sam lied. "You know... spring cleaning."

"Oh, well, just thought I'd check before I head out. You owe me a game, ya

know!"

"I know, I know," Sam nodded.

Inside, his thoughts were raging. He wanted to jump up screaming and run

somewhere... anywhere. He couldn't go to the gym out of fear of who might be

watching him. He was afraid to go home out of fear of who might be waiting

there for him. And he was struggling to keep his head straight, literally.

He was attracted to girls. He had always been attracted to girls. He had

been telling himself this all day. It was just a bad case of envy that he

would have to get over. But then there was Daddy's cock sliding through his

brain.

"That is SO gay," Colby laughed.

Sam felt his heart stutter in his chest. But then he noticed Colby was

pointing at something across the room, so he stood up and saw that they were

putting up some pink and purple banners over someone's desk. Sam quickly

laughed, too.

"New faggot in town?" Sam asked his friend - his straight friend. They

were just two normal guys sharing a laugh.

"Something like that," Colby chuckled.

Pulled from his thoughts, they exchanged a few comments about the banners

and work and then they went their separate ways. Sam made it to the

parking lot feeling somewhat more a man and was ready to unlock his door

when he noticed a small envelope pressed under his windshield wiper. He

glanced around nervously and grabbed at it.

It wasn't until Sam had driven some ways away from the office that he

pulled over and parked in a vacant lot and opened the envelope. It was a

note from the man he had called Daddy. His hand trembled as he read it:

"Dear boy, here is a list of things I want you to do for me tonight. Be a

good boy and obey each and every instruction as it is written. Failure to do

so will require punishment. Love, Daddy."

Sam read down the list of things he was being told to do and as he read

them, he felt the betraying tingle between his legs.

1.) Go home and shower. Clean every inch of your body thoroughly. Daddy

believes in good hygiene.

2.) Wear only a clean pair of sweats, t-shirt, white socks and tennis shoes.

No underwear.

3.) Put on the leather wristbands and ankle bands we used last night and

make sure they are nice and tight.

4.) Get in your car and drive to West End Park. Be there by 7:00. Park along

the street, lock your car, and go over to the big oak tree near the fence.

You will see a red van. Open the back doors, get in, and wait for further

instruction.

5.) Don't stop thinking about Daddy's big cock.

Despite the little erection poking around in his briefs, Sam crumpled up

the letter and stuffed it deep into the ashtray. It was bad enough what he

had done last night for that man. But where did this guy get off thinking he

could just tell him what to, now, and he would do it? He knew he was

struggling with this strange sense of envy and desire, but he was sure he

could beat it. He just needed to clear his head.

Sam shifted gears and sped away to Sarah's house. It was the best way he

could think of to keep fantasies of other men's big tools out of his mind.

He got there and they hugged and he held her longer than usual, which

pleased her, and for the first time that day, he felt like he was back in

his own world again.

He stayed with Sarah late into the night. The only times when it got

uncomfortable was when she wanted to run her hands down his legs and grab at

his crotch and entice him to have sex with her. He would always shift and

tease and say he had to keep his promise and wait for the weekend.

But each time he put Sarah off, he wondered if he could ever bring himself

to do it, and that brought back his doubts and fears of the night before,

and those were the times when he would glance at the clock and wonder what

was going on at West End Park.

Holding her in his arms as they watched TV, he thought back to the only time

he had ever had sex before. He was in his late teens and on vacation

out-of-state with his family. He met a girl. She was taken with him, of

course. And it just happened one night in a park, behind some bushes. He

couldn't stop her. He couldn't control her. But at least it was dark.

He was on top of her and she was wrapping her arms and legs all over him and

after a long, passionate kiss, she spread her legs wide and begged him to go

deeper. "Fuck me!" she had moaned. "Fuck me hard!"

But Sam was already in as deep as he could go. She bucked her hips and

squirmed around trying to feel something more, something wider and longer,

but that was it. Sam quickly came inside her and she slowly stopped moving

and turned her head. She had wasted little time in rolling him off and,

after a few awkward moments, that was the last he ever saw of her.

"It's getting late," Sarah sighed. "Are you sure you don't want to start the

weekend early?"

Sam gave her a squeeze and glanced at the clock. It was 11:30. "No, I

guess I'd better get going. I'll need my rest, first, if it's going to last

all weekend."

Sarah began running her hand up Sam's leg again and he took that moment to

stand up and put on his jacket. He teased. She pouted. They kissed, and then

Sam was on his way home.

From that moment to the next day, there were no more surprises, no more

invasions into Sam's privacy or sexual identity. He began to feel as if

the other night might turn into nothing more than a dark, dirty little

secret that he would simply take with him to his grave. It was the greatest

relief he could imagine.

======

Part 4

======

When Sam arrived home from work the following day, he found a small

package at his doorstep and his growing sense of security quickly

evaporated. He picked it up and glanced around to see if anyone was watching

him. Then he ducked inside and nervously examined it.

The outside of the envelope had his name printed on it in big letters and

under his name, it said: FOR PRIVATE USE ONLY. Sam didn't have to guess

who it was from. He shuddered at the thought that anyone could have come by

and picked it up while he was at work and wondered vainly how long it had

been sitting out there.

He opened the envelope and shook out the contents: a videotape and a piece

of paper. He unfolded the piece of paper and tried to keep his grip steady

as he read it.

"Dear boy,

Daddy is very disappointed that you disobeyed him yesterday. I will be over

to see you at 8:00 tonight concerning your punishment. Here is something to

keep you entertained until I get there. If you know what's good for you, you

will let me in when I arrive without hesitation.

Love, Daddy."

Sam glanced at the clock. He had approximately three hours. His first

thought was to grab his jacket and leave. Then he looked at the tape sitting

on the table. Again, he felt the tingle between his legs. Daddy wasn't

through with him.

Sam turned on the TV and slid the tape in the VCR. He sat down in his

chair and pushed the play button on his remote as if it might trigger a

bomb. He wasn't sure what to expect.

The first image that flashed on his screen was his own naked body sitting

spread-eagled in his recliner. Sam immediately hit the stop button and

caught his breath. He stood up in a panic and paced around the room before

sitting back down and hitting play again. He quickly lowered the volume and

scooted his chair closer to the screen, afraid that the whole world was

watching and listening.

He forced himself to watch as the camera panned over his nude form. He was

still passed out from the chloroform when this was taken, but his body was

already tied up and waiting. The camera zoomed in on his crotch and held

that shot for at least a minute, which made him extremely uncomfortable. He

couldn't stand looking at his own little piece for so long. It looked even

smaller on the screen than it did when he looked at it in the bathroom

mirror or while lying in bed.

Then there was an edit cut and he could see himself sitting awake in the

chair from a side angle. From that vantage point, the whole night was there

on film, from having his penis measured and watching Daddy undress, to

complying with all of Daddy's wishes and sucking off his monstrous rod. The

camera zoomed in at various points and Sam blushed at how eager he became

once Daddy's big tool slid into his waiting mouth. He had been trying to

deny it had ever happened, or that he had ever behaved so willingly.

Horrified that it had all been filmed, Sam nonetheless sported a quick

hard-on as the tape continued playing. And out of sheer habit, he watched

more closely whenever the camera focused on Daddy's equipment. The filming

ended shortly after he had swallowed the pool of cum in his mouth and Daddy

had wiped the excess under his nose. Sam could still smell and taste that

moment, even now.

When the screen went black and it became apparent that the tape was at its

end, Sam sat there in a trance, not knowing what to do next. The erection

in his jeans not withstanding, his first instinct was to pull the tape out

and destroy it immediately. But as he thought about it, the implications and

possibilities went through his head.

Of course, this wasn't the original tape, he thought. No doubt, it was only

a copy. Destroying it wouldn't solve anything. It might even be considered a

further act of disobedience, he thought, and then what? What would become of

the original? Had other copies been made? Sam's mind raced through

question after question, one possibility after another.

Absently, as he sat there thinking, he hit the rewind button and then

pressed play at some point and there was Daddy's big dick on the screen

again. He paused the picture when the head of Daddy's cock came into view

and he lost his train of thought. The head of that cock was somewhat smaller

in girth than the rest of the shaft and the tip had something of an upward

bend to it, almost like a baby's pacifier. It was full, but not fat or

bulbous. A new thought invaded Sam's thinking, the thought of how suckable

that helmet looked and the memory of how good it felt in his mouth.

Sam's finger wandered to the slow motion button and he watched Daddy's

erection slide across his TV screen like a long, plump hot dog commercial.

Except this particular hot dog was glistening with the juices of his own

mouth. Hitting the play button again, he heard his own voice moaning, "Yes,

Daddy! Oh yes, Daddy!"

Feeling a sudden wetness in his shorts, Sam gasped and hit the stop button

again. His throbbing erection was leaking and he stood up a bit bowlegged

and made his way to the bathroom. Taking his pants off, he wiped away the

ooze with some toilet paper and stared at himself in the mirror, holding his

erection by the fingertips.

"Dammit," he mumbled to himself. He pressed down on his stiff stick and

tucked it into his white briefs. Then he went back out to the living room in

shorts and t-shirt and got a drink of water.

The clock on the microwave said 5:45. Sam set the glass down and ran his

hand under his shirt and over his abdomen the way most men tend to do as

they get lost in thought. He glanced over to the TV and thought about his

friends and family, and Sarah. What would they think of him if they saw

something like that? That wasn't the sort of person he was. He couldn't let

this continue.

Sam's hand had risen from his belly to his chest and he was stroking his

pectorals and rubbing at his nipples and his erection was pressing back in

defiance against his white briefs. Unable to get the images and memories out

of his head, he decided he could deal with this whole situation better if he

just got the jerking off out of the way. Then his mind would clear and he

could make better decisions.

So Sam went back to the chair and pressed play again, and as he sat there

watching himself suck this massive cock on the screen, he leaned back and

pulled out his penis and stroked himself to the rhythms of the home video he

had been given. His shapely ass wiggled in the chair, as the pleasurable

sensations grew more intense. Without even thinking about it, he raised his

left leg over the left arm of the chair and his right leg over the right

arm. Both legs were pressed up against the metal rings still lodged into the

armrests and he imagined Daddy looming over him again even as he watched it

on TV, except this time, he imagined holding Daddy's cock with both of his

hands as he painted it with his tongue.

Shuddering, Sam lost control and shot squirt after squirt of hot liquid up

his chest and all over his t-shirt. His eyes rolled and the chair rocked in

multiple spasms long after his dick had stopped shooting cum. Several

minutes passed and he finally stopped rubbing the underside of his penis and

things came back into focus. He pushed the stop button on his remote in

disgust and vowed that that would be the last time he ever watched that

tape.

His shriveling member easily slunk back into his briefs and left stains in

the fabric. He stood up and carefully removed his wet shirt on his way to

the bedroom. He threw the shirt in a corner, slipped off his socks and

underwear, and climbed into the shower.

It was almost 6:20 by the time Sam finally left the bathroom and he was

again entertaining thoughts of just leaving his apartment before that guy

got there. His thinking was that if he just kept avoiding him, maybe he

would get tired of trying and go away and leave him alone. But the existence

of a videotape kept pulling him back. He concluded that he couldn't leave.

He had to know what the fate of that tape would be and what the man wanted

for it.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Sam wiped at his naked form with the towel

and wondered if it would be something like their first meeting when the man

arrived. He didn't want to have to be naked in front of him again. He didn't

want to have a repeat of his small exposure, though that man seemed to enjoy

it and the videotape seemed to focus on it.

"Four and a half inches," Sam grumbled. He cupped his balls in his

hand and pushed his limp package upwards and spoke to it. "Is that the best

you can do?" he complained. Deep down, he knew it was.

Sam had a ruler in his dresser drawer. He retrieved it and sat back down

on the bed rubbing himself. The ruler was always there and he tended to use

it often, always measuring himself in a self-deprecating manner. But then,

when he did that, he would also glance up the ruler to the 9, 10, 11 and

12-inch marks and fantasize what that must be like at each level. Even the 7

and 8-inch marks seemed incredible to him. He strained and pushed vainly on

his shaft against the ruler, unable to reach the 5-inch mark.

With the ruler at the base of his new erection, he wrapped his hand around

it at the bottom and then gripped the ruler with his other hand around the

10-inch mark and imagined holding a 10-incher between his legs. He pretended

to stroke his imaginary pole with both hands. But then he set the ruler

aside and looked at the reality.

His circumcised penis had a rocket shape to it. It was lean at the base and

then curved out in the middle and leaned slightly to the left. The fleshy

pink helmet protruded out a bit more than the girth of his shaft but rounded

to a point. It was only similar to a rocket in shape, however. In size, it

was more comparable to the highlighting marker he had sitting on his desk at

work.

Influenced, perhaps, by the ruler and his erection, Sam decided that maybe

it was best if he jerked off again. He thought that if he fully exhausted

himself before 8:00, then no amount of coaxing could get him to sport an

erection for the entertainment of anyone. He didn't want to give the

impression that he couldn't control himself. He didn't want it to appear

that he enjoyed that kind of treatment.

Already rubbing himself towards climax, Sam spotted his cum-stained

t-shirt on the floor and grabbed it. Despite his best intentions, his mind

was wading through image after image of Daddy's big cock sliding over his

face and it wasn't long before Sam was squirting more shots onto his wet

shirt.

Wiping off excess drops on a dry sleeve, he set the t-shirt aside and got

dressed. He put on clean, white briefs, a fresh t-shirt and his denim jeans.

Slipping on some socks, he went into the living room and noticed the time:

6:45.

He was too nervous to eat, even though he was hungry. He found himself

pacing the apartment, from kitchen to bedroom, to living room to bathroom,

and back to the kitchen again. At 7:00, the phone rang.

"Hello?" Sam answered cautiously.

"What are you wearing?" whispered the voice at the other end.

Expecting it to have something to do with his impending visit at 8:00, Sam

nervously replied, "I'm just... I'm just wearing my clothes."

"How tight is your crotch?" the voice whispered back right away. "Are you

hard?"

As the voice said this, Sam felt another twitch and tingle in his briefs

and he shifted his legs uncomfortably. "No," he answered, but there was a

tinge of uncertainty in his voice. He felt himself getting hard again,

despite jerking off twice already.

"I'll bet it's sliding its way down the middle of your legs," the voice

whispered with a muffled laugh. "Better pull it out fast before you wind up

fucking yourself."

And that's when Sam realized the muffled voice belonged to Sarah. His

heart started to beat again and he let out an exasperated sigh. The hardness

poking around in his shorts eased up and went limp.

"Sarah!" There was both relief and anger in his voice.

"Just getting you ready for the weekend," she laughed.

He went over and plopped himself down in the recliner. The TV was still on

and ESPN was flashing basketball scores.

"How could you do that?" he asked incredulously.

"Do what?"

He thought a moment and put his anxiety level in check. "Nothing," he

answered. "Sorry. I'm just a little tense right now."

"I can help you with that, ya know."

"Yeah, I know," he sighed. "But you'll have to wait for the weekend."

She pouted about that. Then she wondered why he wasn't at the gym. She had

intended to leave another sexy message on his answering machine for him to

come home to.

"I just didn't feel like going tonight," he told her. It was the second

night in a row he hadn't gone to the gym, but he couldn't explain to her the

reasons why.

"Would you like to come over again tonight and watch a movie?" she asked.

They both knew it was only a pretense. She had been daydreaming about

getting fucked by her big man all afternoon.

Sam glanced up at the clock and then ran his fingers over one of the rings

still jammed into the arm of his chair. It was now 7:15. "I'd love to," he

lied. "But I can't. I've gotta go over to the office and... and try to help

the night crew work out this thing with the computer. They've been nagging

me about it all day."

She reluctantly gave in to this excuse but promised she would be grabbing

his fat dick on Friday night and wouldn't let go of it until Monday morning

to make up for his avoidance.

Sam only agreed because he couldn't think of any other option. He couldn't

bring himself to think beyond the next 30 minutes. It was nearly 7:30 by the

time he was able to get her off the phone and every little sound he heard

outside made him look towards the door.

Glaring at the remote control on his armrest, he gently pushed the play

button again and immediately, his face appeared on the screen and the big

erection was sliding over his lips and the sounds of his slurping and

Daddy's moans of pleasure could be heard on the speakers. He forgot he had

promised himself no more. But he wanted to see how he would react to the

sight of that big tool now that he had jerked off twice in one hour.

He pushed the stop button when his erection began to press at him again.

Time was running short. He dashed to his bedroom and grabbed his stained

t-shirt and knelt down in front of the TV with his pants down past his

knees. He rewound the tape to where Daddy was unwrapping his gift and rubbed

quickly at his straining member as the images flashed before him. Five

minutes went by. Then ten minutes. He only had about 10 minutes left,

assuming this man was punctual. And he had the sense that he was.

He rewound the tape a bit and continued frantically. As he rubbed and

massaged himself, he entertained the thought of Daddy walking in on him like

this. That sent him into his third climax and he leaned forward and shot

dribbles of cum onto his poor t-shirt.

Sam hit the stop button. Then he wiped off quickly and went to the

bathroom to wash up and pee, scrunching up his sticky shirt and tossing it

on the bed as he walked by. He buttoned up his fly and washed his hands and

splashed cold water on his face. He glanced at himself in the mirror and

gained some composure. He felt completely drained of any sexual desire.

"No more," he told himself. "I'm in control now."

And then the doorbell rang. Sam let out a gasp. It was all so surreal,

from the time he let that pizza delivery boy into his apartment to this

exact moment, it seemed like some sort of bad dream... some sort of fantasy

that wasn't really happening. Fantasies weren't supposed to be real, after

all.

The doorbell rang again and Sam crept out to the living room and felt a

bit numb as he glanced through the peephole and saw not only the face of the

man who's cock he had sucked, but also the pizza kid waiting behind him. The

man started pounding on the door and said in a somewhat loud voice, "I know

you're in there, boy!"

Concerned right away that the neighbors would hear, he unlocked the door and

let them in. They both sauntered past him like they owned the place and

Sam glanced around outside to see if anyone had been watching or

listening. There didn't seem to be anyone else out there, so he carefully

shut the door and felt a sense of dread as the lock clicked into place.

"Where were you yesterday, boy?" the man he had called Daddy said.

Daddy stood over by the recliner and rested his arm on the top of it. He was

dressed casually, much like Sam was, with jeans and t-shirt and a black

leather jacket. He had a full head of dark brown hair that was neatly

slicked back and his face was clean-shaven. His eyes bore into Sam like

lasers.

Daddy had a thumb hooked in the pocket of his jeans, which drew Sam's gaze

momentarily to the pressing issue of the bulge. He looked away for fear it

would inspire another erection in his already worn-out member.

"I... I... I don't know what you're talking about," Sam stuttered.

The kid who had been dressed up as the pizza delivery boy, the one who had

jumped him with the chloroform rag, was leaning over his kitchen counter

with an amused look on his face. He was also plainly dressed in t-shirt,

jeans and a gray flannel jacket. On the surface, it just looked like two

friends over for a visit, with one being a bit older and bigger than the

other.

"Of course you do," Daddy told him. "I gave you a list of instructions to

follow yesterday and you failed to obey."

"Punishment time," the kid in the kitchen said as if it were a fact.

Sam crossed the floor and stood near his small, dining room table with

chairs for two. Try as he might, he couldn't seem to look either of them in

the eyes after what he had done the other night.

"What do you want with me?" he stammered. "I'm NOT gay."

"I didn't say you were," Daddy answered. "I don't believe in those labels.

You simply are what you were made to be. There's what you're supposed to be,

what they teach you. And then there's what you are."

Even as the man stood there philosophizing, Sam felt like he was being

talked down to. The 19-year-old spectator in his kitchen also seemed full of

himself and much taller, even though he stood the same height as Sam. Only

the older man actually stood taller than the both of them. The way he

carried himself, he seemed like a giant.

"I don't need to hear all your bullshit!" Sam growled defiantly. "I just

want to know what you want. Why did you do it? Why did you tape it?" The

anger and frustration in his voice was weakened only slightly by the fact

that he was again stealing glances at the tightness in the man's crotch. His

jeans seemed worn and faded in that particular area.

"You're just a confused, little boy," he replied calmly, despite Sam's

outburst. "You need guidance and discipline."

"I don't need any goddamn help!" Sam shot back. "You're just criminals

screwing up my life!" Then he picked up the phone and pointed it at the both

of them. "Would you like me to call the police? Huh?"

The kid in the kitchen snickered. Daddy just grinned and told Sam it was

perfectly fine. "Go ahead," he said. "Call them. You can tell them the whole

story and we'll give them a copy of the videotape for evidence."

The phone shook in Sam's hand and he slowly lowered it to the table. His

attempt at being the outraged victim who had some sort of recourse was

failing fast. Of course, he knew he couldn't let any of that information

out - not the story, not the reasons behind it, and certainly not the

videotape that shows him actually enjoying himself sucking Daddy's cock.

Sam wrapped his arms around himself dejectedly. "I have a girlfriend... "

he said in a lower tone, as if begging them to understand his predicament

and have mercy.

"Of course you do," the man said. "But from the way she talks about you,

it's obvious she hasn't even seen that little boy stick you've got hiding

between your legs. What are you waiting for? Go fuck her."

Sam stared down at the socks on his feet. The man was so calm, so

confident, so sure of how things were. He opened his mouth to answer, but

nothing came out.

"You've got a beautiful body," the man said. "And you've worked it out to

near perfection. But it's that small little penis that decides your fate.

It's just the way society is. Bigger is better. You weren't made to be

serviced; you were made to serve."

Sam glanced up and his vision ran past the man's bulging crotch as though

it were some sort of magnet pulling him towards it. He wanted to argue. He

wanted to protest. But he couldn't think of anything to say against it. This

man was playing to all his weaknesses.

"What makes you feel good, boy?" the man asked. "Is it fucking a woman with

that tiny tool of yours? Or is it jerking off to forbidden fantasies of

bigger cocks - long, thick, silky-smooth erections? Didn't you enjoy the

feel of my cock in your mouth, boy? Can you feel yourself getting hard right

now just thinking about it?"

Without realizing what he was doing, Sam let his arms slide down closer to

his waist, as if attempting to hide what didn't need hiding. Even with a

full erection, it would be barely noticeable under his jeans. He grew angry

with himself that he would respond so easily, even after jerking off three

times.

"You don't just envy those men. You desire them. And after you've been

properly trained, you can free yourself of your social conditioning and be

the plaything you were born to be."

Faced with the implications of what this man was trying to say, Sam

ignored the aching stir in his briefs and pushed it all aside. "I'm not

doing anything else for you," he said. "I don't care what you say, or what

you do... I'll never be like that. So you might as well just take your buddy

here and leave."

"But you sucked my dick off so passionately," Daddy said with a grin.

"I had no other choice."

"I gave you choices," he said. "You chose to suck my dick and you chose to

do it yourself. I didn't have to force it into you. You took it all by

yourself and begged for more."

"You tied me up and made me," Sam argued.

Daddy turned around and noticed the TV was on and the remote was sitting on

the arm of the chair. He took particular pleasure in noting that the rings

they had screwed into it were still there. He picked up the remote and

pointed it at the TV while turning to look at Sam.

"I wonder... "

He clicked the play button and instantly Sam heard the sounds of his

slurping and Daddy's moaning on the TV. The volume went up and they could

all hear Sam's muffled voice as he was licking the cock, practically

shouting "More, Daddy, more!"

Sam lunged forward and grabbed the remote out of the man's hand and

frantically turned the volume back down for fear of the neighbors hearing.

He caught sight of the screen and of his own tongue snaking around the

monster shaft and his tired little penis continued to strain against his

shorts.

"If we leave, we'll never come back," the man explained. "Instead, we'll go

deliver copies of this tape to all your friends and family and you can live

with that instead."

The man reached down and stroked Sam's firm ass and Sam pulled away,

still struggling with his growing erection.

"You can't do that," Sam argued.

"Each tape is already packaged and ready to go," the man told him. "Your

parents live on Wiltshire Rd. Your sister lives on Cloverdale St. Your

friend, Steve, lives on Vista. Your friend, Colby... "

Sam trembled and stepped back in shock. This man knew where they all

lived. It was no bluff, no empty threat. This man had all their addresses

and was prepared to drive to each of their houses and give them a copy of

the tape that very night.

"I rummaged through your address book the other night," the man explained.

"Before you woke up and sucked me off, of course."

"I did all the filming," the kid in the kitchen added. "You were great!"

Moments of silence passed as Sam stood staring at himself on the TV

screen, taking shot after shot of Daddy's gooey cream in his mouth. No one

could find out what he had done. No one he knew could see this thing. He

didn't want anyone to know about his shortcomings and his hidden fantasies.

He was a good, straight, decent guy who would never even think of doing such

things. He couldn't let them think otherwise. He felt trapped. Defeated.

"What do you want?" Sam finally asked.

"Your obedience, boy; just your obedience. Do as I say and this little tape

and all the things we do together will remain private. No one else will ever

know."

Sam looked over to the kitchen, feeling somewhat dizzy. "What about him?"

"He follows his own path," the man said. "And, of course, he has his own

copy of the tape. But he'll agree to whatever I agree to."

The kid nodded solemnly, as if Sam would think that to be a good thing.

"So what?" Sam asked in a daze. His mind was spinning. "What do you want?"

"You disobeyed me yesterday. Disobedience requires punishment."

Sam was still confused. The man took the remote out of Sam's hand and

shut off the TV. Then he hooked his finger inside the belt loop of Sam's

jeans and tugged him along into the bedroom. Sam resisted at first, but

the second, more forceful tug caused him to relent. The kid left the kitchen

and followed right behind.

Daddy pulled his boy over to the side of the bed and sat down. Sam stood

there looking down at him as the finger slid away from his jeans. The kid

had a video camera with him, something Sam hadn't noticed before.

"You can't film this!" Sam protested.

"I already have a tape of you," Daddy told him. "What's another tape going

to matter? If we can't film this, then we'll just leave and deliver our

packages."

Sam stammered and shook where he stood, but the implications of their

leaving had already been made clear enough. "Okay, fine." Sam sighed.

"You agree to let us film you whenever we want?"

Sam closed his eyes and thought of his parents watching that video of him

sucking this man's cock. "You promise no one else will ever see them?"

"As long as you're a good little boy and obey."

Sam glanced over at the kid, who was already filming. Then he bowed his

head and nodded.

"Answer me, boy," Daddy demanded. "Answer me properly."

Sam thought for a moment and recalled the other night. "Yes, Daddy," he

mumbled.

"Good boy," Daddy said.

"Can I at least know who you two are?" Sam thought to ask.

"I'm Daddy," the man said. "That's all you'll ever need to know. And that's

Peter. And you are no longer Sam in my presence. You're just 'boy.' Do you

understand this?"

Sam glanced over at Peter. Being watched and filmed like that only

increased his sense of humiliation. "Yes, Daddy," said.

At that point, Sam was certain that he was going to get down on his knees

and suck on Daddy's big cock again. He could see the form of it bursting to

get out of Daddy's jeans.

"Now pull down your pants, boy," Daddy instructed.

Sam gave him a brief look of confusion.

"Do it NOW, boy. If I don't get immediate responses, then we'll have some

tapes to deliver tonight."

Sam reluctantly fumbled with the buttons on his jeans and slowly slid his

pant legs down to his ankles. He was going to kick them off, but Daddy told

him not to. His briefs were slightly tented and Daddy pulled him forward by

the hips and pulled his shorts down for him.

And there he stood like a little boy in the doctor's office waiting to turn

his head and cough, pants and shorts down around his ankles and sporting a

little semi. With his hairless chest and sparse, blond hair elsewhere, he

looked every bit like the boy he was being made into. Daddy sat there and

rubbed his boy's hips and caressed his smooth ass for a few moments,

enjoying the feel of those firm, fleshy curves. Sam's boy stick got harder

as he did this, despite never being touched. He felt like a fool.

Daddy spread his own legs wide apart and reached over and grabbed a pillow.

He laid it across his right leg. "Now, bend your ass over my leg," Daddy

told him. "It's time to teach my boy a lesson."

Sam's mouth gaped slightly as he realized he was going to get spanked.

Daddy didn't wait for him to figure it all out, though. He pulled his boy

around by the hips and Sam stutter-stepped to keep from falling. Slapping

a hand to his back, Daddy bent his boy over his knee. The pillow below

served to jut Sam's bubbled ass up higher than the rest of him.

When Sam tried to pull himself up again, Daddy pushed him back down with a

firm hand to the back and warned him to obey. Once his boy got the message,

Daddy began dribbling his saliva onto his boy's tender cheeks and he

massaged it in gently.

"I can feel his little cock pulsing hard into the pillow," Daddy told Peter

as his fingers crept up and down Sam's crack with gentle precision. "I

think my boy likes it!"

Sam lay there with his head pushed into the bed, waiting for what was

next, trying not to enjoy having his butt played with like that. Out of the

corner of his eye, he noticed his cum-stained t-shirt still sitting on the

bed, all wadded up, and cursed himself for not putting it somewhere else.

SWAT!

The palm of Daddy's spanking hand came down like a crack of lightning over

Sam's bare, wet ass and he arched upwards against the firm hand between

his shoulder blades. Daddy pushed his boy's face back down on the bed and

swatted again. The stinging sensation made Sam's legs shudder and brought

water to his eyes.

Daddy held him down and methodically caressed and swatted at each of his

boy's tender cheeks repeatedly until they both took on a shade of bright

pink. Sam stopped trying to get up and instead held onto Daddy's left leg

with both hands while trying to keep his eyes from watering more.

At some point, Daddy stopped to puddle up some more saliva on his boy's ass

and he rubbed it all over like a salve. Then he pulled his boy off his lap

and stood him up at his previous position in front of him. His pants and

shorts were still tangled around his ankles and he couldn't hide the tears.

"That was for not obeying me last night," Daddy told him. "Do you

understand, boy?"

Sam sniffed and trembled for a moment in disgust and embarrassment. He was

a grown man, dammit; a grown man who bared his ass and got spanked like a

little boy. And now, here he was sniveling like one, too.

"Answer me quick, boy!"

"Yes, Daddy," Sam sniffed again. He felt the camera on him, felt Peter

zooming in on his reaction and all he could do was stand there and take it.

He wiped at his eyes quickly with the heels of his hands and felt the

dribble of Daddy's warm spit running down his leg.

"Good boy," Daddy said. "Now, you need to be punished for your defiant

outburst

Part 5 of 11

By: Little Boi Blu

(m/m auth bond oral)

===========================================================================

Daddy's list of short simple instructions for his boy was sitting on the

kitchen counter the next morning. Sam had read it several times the night

before, wanting so much to crumple it up like the last one and throw it

away. But his denial wasn't as strong as it had been: his mind still

searched for some way out of this situation, but the ground beneath his

heterosexual feet had become like quicksand, slowly sinking him to his

knees. The more he struggled, the more he felt like he was sinking.

Unable to face the possible consequences of further disobedience, Sam had

reluctantly completed the first task on his list. He called in sick to work

that morning and was staying home. Now he was standing in front of the

mirror in the bathroom completing his second task, shaving his face. The

note said Daddy liked his boys clean-shaven. He needed the shave anyway.

After rinsing his face, Sam ran his hand over the patch of silky blond

curls atop his tired little penis and wondered if Daddy meant more than what

he thought. He examined the sparse amount of light hair on his balls and

recalled licking Daddy's clean-shaven sac of manhood. He put his hand over

the razor on the counter in contemplation and his limp inch and a half

stirred slightly.

"Dammit" he grumbled and withdrew his hand from the razor. He wondered how

much this fear of exposure was going to control him. How far would it go

before something drastic had to be done? There was an ever-growing sense

that it was already too late. He wondered if maybe they would just get bored

with him at some point and leave him alone. He stared disgustedly at his

small member in the mirror and wondered how things might have gone

differently for him if genetics and society had been as kind to him there as

it had been to the rest of his body.

"You simply are what you were made to be" Daddy had told him. Society said

bigger was better and he was a part of that society. "You were made to

serve." Daddy's words and the events of the past few days and how he felt

about them were scrambling his brain. He knew he was small, and he knew he

had become somewhat obsessed with larger men, but he had always been

confident that it was just a phase. It was something he would get over and

then he would go on with his life as a happy, well-adjusted man; not some

pansy gay boy who took it up the ass and begged for more.

"A man" he mused to himself. But what he saw in the mirror belonged to a boy

and he wondered if it was just him that felt this way, or would any man with

his size feel the same? Perhaps he was always a boy inside -- Daddy's little

boy. Maybe having a small penis just helped bring it out quicker. He did his

best to keep away from that particular thought.

Sam closed his eyes tight and fought back the doubts that an embarrassing

spanking session had brought to the surface. And then there was that equally

humiliating jerk-off performance. Why did he let them do that? He kept

asking himself this over and over. It didn't just hurt his ass and his

pride: it affected the very core of his manhood. But he had to keep

reminding himself of the other option. How much worse off would he be if

they had given out those videos? He almost wished he could let everyone see

them, but then what did it mean to feel that way? Things were spinning out

of control.

He turned sideways just to distract himself from his thoughts, if only

briefly, and studied the curvature of his ass. It looked like it had been

sunburned, though it was much more pink than red now. The sight of it only

made him think again, so he rubbed lightly at his tender rear and started to

climb in the shower.

But then he remembered Daddy's list. He was not to shower until told to do

so. Even though it was his ritual to shower first thing every morning, he

reluctantly withdrew his foot from the tub and complied. Without any

restraints, or even anyone present, Daddy's hand was reaching out to his ass

and he was obeying.

He walked back into his bedroom and glanced at the alarm clock at his

bedside. The list said he was to admit a visitor at 9:00am. His fear was

that it would be someone new, someone he didn't want to let in to see him

like this, someone who knew him. With that in mind, he nonetheless slipped

on his white briefs and put some socks on his feet and went out to the

kitchen. The list also said that was the only clothing he was allowed to

wear that day.

Sam ate a piece of toast and sipped some juice, unable to maintain much of

an appetite. Then he sat down in his recliner and stared at a blank TV

screen, thinking silently about that tape in the VCR. His finger twitched at

the remote and he resisted. If only it hadn't been filmed, he thought. Maybe

then it would just be their word against his and he wouldn't be going

through any of this. He'd be at work right now living his normal life. But

then, his normal life included walking through shower rooms just to catch

glimpses of other men's flaccid rods.

The doorbell rang shortly after 9:00, just as Sam was glancing at the

clock on the wall to wonder if maybe he would get lucky and no one would

show. Apprehensive, Sam went to the door and eyed the peephole. Unsure if

he should feel relieved or not, he saw only the kid and no one else. He

unlocked the door and hid his bareness as Peter came in.

Peter ambled through with a gym bag strung over his shoulder. He was dressed

much like he had been the previous night and he didn't bother with any

pleasantries. "Did you follow the list?" he asked Sam.

Sam shut the door quickly as if he were afraid of the outside and turned

the lock. He sheepishly nodded, "Yes."

Peter dropped his bag near the recliner and walked into the kitchen and

rummaged through the fridge like it was all his. "You haven't showered yet,

right?"

"No, not yet."

While four years Sam's junior in age, Peter had the advantage of position

in this particular relationship. The lowly shame Sam felt from the

spanking, and the fact that Peter witnessed the whole thing, had sucked away

any sense of authority Sam may have felt otherwise in his own apartment,

or anywhere else with Peter, for that matter. Though he lacked the

commanding presence of Daddy, 19-year-old Peter's orders still carried the

same weight. He told Sam to go wait in the bedroom for him. And so Daddy's

little boy, still feeling the slapping hand on his ass, quietly complied.

When Peter finally entered the bedroom, Sam was sitting on the bed

waiting, wondering what was next. Peter had already undressed and was

wearing nothing more than his white briefs and a gold tag dangling from the

chain around his neck -- something he always wore proudly. He was carrying a

fluffy orange sponge in his left hand and a bar of soap in the right.

"How's your ass, boy?" the kid asked.

Sam glanced up and saw Peter's lanky, naked form and the comfortable,

confident way in which he stood there. The curvature of the bulge in this

kid's briefs pulled at Sam's gaze as he replied, "It's better."

Peter nodded understandingly and turned away into the bathroom and told

Sam to follow. Sam pushed down at his growing erection and got up.

"What's going on?" Sam wondered. "What are we doing?"

Peter pulled him in front of the full-length mirror and set the sponge and

soap down on the counter. Turning Sam to face his own reflection, Peter

stood right behind him and told him to lower his shorts to his ankles. Sam

hesitated nervously.

"If you don't do as I say" Peter reminded, "Daddy will punish you." And if

Sam resisted punishment, then all his friends and relatives would see the

video. It even occurred to Sam at that moment that they now had not one,

but two embarrassing videos of him.

Sam complied and slid his briefs down to his ankles and stood there

bare-assed in front of the mirror, in front of this kid. Peter rested his

chin on Sam's shoulder and looked him over, grinning.

"You're getting hard" Peter observed. He placed his hands on Sam's hips

and massaged his thumbs over the tops of his rounded cheeks. "Are you

getting hard because you were staring at my crotch? Or are you getting hard

because you like being controlled like this?"

Sam couldn't explain why he was getting hard. At least, he couldn't

explain it in a way that was acceptable for someone who was straight. It

certainly did start when he saw Peter in his underwear, and when that

swaying crotch dangled in his face. It was just envy, he thought -- not

desire. And he was getting harder now, with his briefs around his ankles and

Peter examining him like he was. And the hands on his hips...

"Maybe you like it when other men touch you like this" Peter said as his

hands slid around Sam's waist and rubbed at his flat belly. Peter's

fingertips crawled through the blond curls of Sam's bush. Sam could feel

the fabric of Peter's briefs and the fleshy hose inside it pressed up

against his bare crack, and soon Daddy's little boy was pointing his tiny

rocket to the sky.

Despite his penile reaction, though, Sam kept his hands and arms awkwardly

at his sides, trying to seem uninterested. "I'm not gay" Sam tried to

explain calmly. "I have a girlfriend." This had to mean something, he

thought. He simply couldn't enjoy this because he had a girlfriend. He had

many girlfriends in his life. It just didn't make any sense to him. Why

couldn't they see that he liked girls and girls liked him and that was the

way his life was?

"I'm not gay, either" came Peter's blunt but honest reply. The kid pressed

his crotch against Sam's soft cheeks a little harder and rubbed it around.

His hands and fingers moved out to Sam's inner thighs, spreading them

apart slightly and drawing their bodies closer still. "I have a girlfriend,

too. I even fuck mine from time to time."

Sam blinked rapidly when he heard this and looked up in the mirror at the

kid who was breathing warmly on his shoulder. "What do you mean? You're not

gay?"

"Weren't you listening to what Daddy was telling you?" Peter spoke close to

his ear. "I do whatever feels good... whatever I like. I like the touch and

feel of a good, hard body next to mine. I like having my cock sucked by

someone who's going to treat it like it's the greatest thing on earth. And I

love rubbing my dick down the crack of a nice, soft, round ass. I like to be

on top. You like it when big boys like me are on top of you? Does it feel

good? Put your hands on my legs and feel them."

Staring oddly at him through the mirror, unable to figure out who or what

Peter was, Sam slowly complied and placed his hands on the kid's smooth,

young legs. Peter, in turn, ran his hands up Sam's body and stroked his

pectorals as if caressing a woman's breasts.

"Now doesn't this feel good?" Peter asked.

Sam's hands rested idly on Peter's legs and he tried to ignore the way his

hard-on pulsed and his nipples tightened. "It'd be better if it was a woman"

Sam mumbled as if by requirement, ignoring the fact that fantasizing about

Sarah last night hindered him from reaching orgasm. He kept trying to

convince himself that he wasn't what they were saying he was.

"A woman doesn't have what you really want" Peter moaned. Peter's own tool

was now pressing a bit firmer against the fabric of his briefs and Sam

could feel its length rubbing along the crack of his ass. "Your little prick

is hard as a rock, right?"

"I was just saying... "

"Remember the way Daddy handled your little cock?" Peter whispered

seductively in his ear. "The way your legs were spread for his pleasure? And

the way he rubbed you down and pinched your nipples until they ached?

Remember how it felt to have your tongue sliding around on his beautiful

cock and how it tasted -- how you lusted after it? I'll bet you can still

taste his cum in your mouth. I'll bet you wished he had let you suck him off

again last night. How badly do you want to hold that thing in your hands and

just kiss it and lick it and suck on it all night long? Just tell Daddy what

you really want and he'll give it to you."

Sam's erection began to throb, causing his ass cheeks to flex against the

poking pressure of Peter's own blossoming hose. His chest heaved under the

circular strokes of Peter's hands and he could see the reflection of his

brown nipples peaking.

"Stop it" Sam pleaded.

"I'll bet you'd like to just slide your hands up and grab my big, long dick

right now, huh?" Peter continued. "Can you feel it rubbing against your ass?

Are you wondering how big it is?"

Peter could feel Daddy's boy trembling and could see his little penis

bobbing like crazy in the mirror. Peter loved the feel of Sam's ass

flexing spasmodically against the pressure of his manly curve. And the way

Sam's hands began creeping up his thighs towards his crotch was all the

answer he needed.

Before Sam's hands could go very far, however, Peter stepped back and

removed his probing fingers from Daddy's little boy. Admiring the fullness

of that pink, freshly-spanked ass once more, Peter put his bare foot on

Sam's briefs and told him to step out of them and over to the tub.

Sam stood there for a moment with his hands reaching behind where Peter's

legs had been, staring at himself in the mirror and feeling empty and

foolish. His penis was still bobbing up and down as if trying to beckon

Peter back. After a slight pause, he reached around and covered his

embarrassing stick, hoping Peter hadn't noticed the wetness at its tip.

Dejectedly, he moved over to the tub.

"Take off your socks and climb in" Peter told him.

Sam couldn't stop himself from stealing glances at the length of shaft

pressing itself up against the fabric of Peter's briefs as he removed his

socks and stood inside the tub. Once in the tub, he tried again to hide his

stiffness.

"Now get down on your hands and knees like a good, little boy" Peter told

him. Peter rubbed at his softening member and adjusted it down in his

shorts, pleased at how Sam kept trying to steal glances at it.

"But... "

"Get down on all fours" he ordered.

Sam's hands slid reluctantly away from his crotch and he cautiously got

down on his hands and knees in the tub, not sure what to think of his new

position. "What are you going to do?" he wondered.

"Just gonna give Daddy's boy a bath" Peter said. Then Peter set the sponge

down in the tub by Sam's leg and turned on the shower. "I want you to stay

like that and only move when I need you to."

Peter grabbed the shower nozzle from its perch and got down on his knees

next to the tub and proceeded to bathe Sam's body in warm sprays. As Peter

applied soap and sponge to every curve and crack of his body, Sam's head

slumped down and he stared at the suds and water running towards the drain

and had a better idea of what a dog being bathed must feel like.

Peter complimented Daddy's boy on the roundness of his ass as he soaped it

down and ran both the sponge and his hands gently and deeply between the

quivering cheeks. When he ran a slick finger around the tight sphincter,

Sam let out a series of gasps, afraid of the possible insertion that never

came.

Then after sliding both of Sam's boyish almonds around in his soapy grip

until he squirmed, Peter snaked his hand down to his subject's aching

hard-on and rubbed it into a lather. As the soapy stroking sent fiery

tingles up and down his back, Sam's head grew lower and his ass seemed to

rise higher, as if begging Peter to continue until he came.

But Peter withdrew as Sam neared his peak and began rinsing the soap off

his boy with the nozzle. Bending down close to Sam's ear, Peter said

quietly, "Little boys should only cum when they're told to."

Sam blushed and raised his head slowly, wiping back the wet hair from his

face, and became acutely aware of his ass protruding like a bitch in heat.

He closed his eyes and corrected his posture as best he could and waited

until Peter had rinsed him off completely and stood him back on his feet.

His meager erection still bobbed and he again covered it with his hands in

shame.

Peter gave Sam's glistening ass a playful slap and told him he was a good

boy. Then Peter caught Sam's eyes again when he slid his shorts off and

stepped into the tub himself. Suddenly, Sam's hands had to press even

harder to keep down his prodding piece. Casually and without pretense, Peter

set the nozzle back up on its perch, closed the shower curtain, and let the

water cascade over his supple form, paying no attention to Sam standing

next to him in awe.

Immediately, Sam's eyes were drawn to the long, slender hose that dangled

between this kid's legs. It wasn't nearly as thick as Daddy's, though it

came closer in length, but it had a slight, upward curve, like a long

banana, leaner at the base and fatter towards the end, with a small, perky

pink slope of a head to it. As water began running down its length and

streaming off the slope, Sam was reminded of all the men he had seen

showering at the gym and how he fantasized about how it must feel and how

big they must get. And here he was, standing in this enclosed space, feeling

the heat of it swaying within his reach and secretly wanting to move his

hands from his own crotch to Peter's.

Peter turned towards the nozzle, giving Sam a view of his smooth,

well-rounded backside as he wet his face and rinsed the water through his

hair and bent over to scratch his calf. Peter's balls could be seen hanging

low between his young cheeks, full and hairless in their dark pouch.

"Okay" Peter turned back and smiled. He spit some water from his mouth,

which hit Sam square in the chest, and raised his arms up over his head.

"Are you ready to wash me?"

Sam looked up and saw the tag at the end of the chain around Peter's neck.

It was shaped like a military dog tag, but it was gold-plated and was

engraved simply with the big, black number "8 1/2" on it. There was no doubt

in his mind what that number represented and it made Sam feel even

smaller.

"We're just two guys taking a shower together" Peter reassured him. "Just

like at the gym, except more liberated. We can do whatever the hell we want

and enjoy it. Don't you want to wash my cock for me?"

As Sam thought it out, thought about the "8 1/2", Peter told him to stop

hiding his little soldier. "That one's not worth holding" he said. "Here"

Peter handed him the soap and sponge. "Wash me. Wash the parts you want."

Sam stepped closer and immediately noticed how his erection compared, so

near to Peter's sloping glory. Unable to stop himself, he sank to his knees

as if in worship and started washing Peter's thighs while watching his tool

hang there.

"Take it" Peter urged. "You know you want to. Don't you? Say it!"

Sam told himself that he had to do it anyway. Somehow, he was being forced

into it, and so that made it bearable to say, "I do."

Peter reached down and lifted up his semi-erection as if in invitation and

Sam dropped the soap and sponge and began petting it with his hands. Once

Daddy's boy was stroking Peter's curvy cock with both hands, Peter put his

own hands behind his head and jutted his hips forward and purely enjoyed the

massage.

"Don't forget to wash my balls, too" Peter reminded Sam.

Sam glanced up as he brought Peter to a full hardness. "Yes, Daddy."

"I'm not your Daddy" Peter corrected. "I'm more like your big brother."

All Sam really knew was that they weren't equals, no matter how much

younger Peter was. It was only in this position on his knees, with Peter's

long, curvaceous erection pulsing in his hands, that Sam felt more

comfortable with the notion that he was their little boy and couldn't escape

that fate. The idea that he had no better choice to make had made it easier

to get to that point. Desire took hold as the water washed over Peter's

manhood and he kissed the pretty pink head and let his tongue run up and

down Peter's shaft, washing with his mouth. Every gym shower fantasy he had

ever jerked off to was being realized at that moment.

>From tip to base, Sam licked and stroked, and then he held his hands under

Peter's smooth, bulging sac and kissed at his heavy balls as they rolled in

and out of his palm. He was unable to stop himself from enticing Peter's

long, slender manhood to an inevitable eruption, and Peter wasn't about to

object. The feel of its silky hardness in Sam's hands and on his lips was

too overpowering.

"Suck the head, now" Peter told him. He reached down and put his hands on

Sam's face and guided his mouth back to the tip of his pole. Sam knew

what it meant. Had he thought it out rationally, he would have objected. But

just as he had done with Daddy, he parted his lips willingly and let it

slide over his tongue, ready to accept what came next. He even massaged

Peter's balls as if to push them higher, milking them to yield.

Shuddering, Peter sprayed the inside of Sam's mouth repeatedly and Sam

had to swallow quickly to prevent himself from gagging. It wasn't until

Peter's spasms ebbed that Sam was able to really taste him on his tongue.

At this point, Peter was slapping his softening member over Sam's face and

asking him if he thought his dick was clean enough now.

"I was just doing what I was told" Sam said, licking the stickiness from

the corner of his lips. That was why he did it, he reasoned. He was forced

to.

Peter just smiled, knowing that he had only suggested it, and grabbed the

soap and began running it over his body. A nice, hot blowjob was just what

he needed to start his day. And it was made all the more pleasurable to have

Daddy's little boy do it for him.

For the remainder of the shower, Sam stayed down there on his knees,

tasting Peter's cream on his tongue and watching the sway of that beautiful

young manhood from above as Peter washed it. He wondered oddly what he was

going to do about the weekend.

After rinsing and shutting off the water, Peter stepped out to dry himself

with a towel, and then he dried Sam as he continued to kneel there

shivering in the tub.

"Something wrong?" Peter asked him as he rubbed the towel over Sam's back

and hindquarters. He pulled Sam silently to his feet and raised his arms

and patted him dry. Sam complied like some moveable action figure doll,

lost in thought.

"I was just thinking" Sam finally answered.

Peter nodded his understanding and patted him on the rear. "Let's go in the

bedroom and you sit on the bed and think some more there."

He patted the ass of Daddy's little boy all the way into the bedroom and sat

Sam down on the side of the bed. "Wait here" he told him. "I've gotta go

get some stuff."

Sam watched Peter turn and he stared absently at how round and smooth his

ass was and how his swaying sac was just visible between his hairless

cheeks. Once Peter had left the room, he sat there in silence, looking down

at his nakedness and wiggling his toes in the rug and wondering what was

next.

Soon, Peter returned. He was shirtless in his jeans, with the gold flicker

of that tag around his neck, and he was carrying a wad of leather straps and

bands in his hands. "Be a good little boy and sit still while I put these on

you" he said.

"What are those?" Sam wondered. But the answer was obvious and Peter

didn't reply. He just knelt down and took Sam's wrists one at a time and

fastened new, leather bands to them. Then he did the same with Sam's

ankles. Unlike the last ones he had had to wear, ones that he had tucked

away hidden in a dresser drawer, these looked a bit more decorative and

substantial, as if meant to show a more permanent possession. Sam's little

rocket was again pointing upwards with nowhere to hide.

"Does Daddy's little boy like to be controlled like this?" Peter asked,

amused. He glanced at Sam's stiffness and smirked.

For his part, Sam could only stare down at his little pleasure indicator

and wonder. The taste of Peter was still in his mouth and he licked his lips

in cowed silence. Perhaps the answer to that question was obvious, too.

Peter playfully tapped at Sam's stick a few times and then produced a new

leather collar with metal rings draped all around it. He held it up for

Sam to see and Sam obediently raised his chin and allowed Peter to

secure it snuggly around his neck. Next came a small tag, much the same as

the one around Peter's neck. But this one was a dull, gray metal color and

seemed colder and reminded him less of jewelry, more like property. It had a

small hook and chain attached to it and he dangled it before Sam's eyes so

that he could see the black number "4 1/2" clearly and boldly engraved on it

in black numbering, plain enough and big enough for anyone to read at a fair

distance.

"Daddy likes for his boys to know their proper place" Peter explained as he

attached the tag to the front of Sam's new collar. "And he likes others to

know it, too."

The last item Peter had was a short, leather leash and it also clipped to

the front of Sam's new collar. When Peter gave it a tug and told Daddy's

boy to stand up, Sam began to rethink things. Perhaps they weren't going

to get bored with him. Perhaps he was only going to get pulled deeper and

deeper into Daddy's world until he could no longer find his way out.

Grabbing a pillow from the bed, Peter pulled his new pet by the leash and

led him out to the living room. He tossed the pillow into the seat of the

recliner and pulled Sam over to it and told him to sit.

"I figured you might like the pillow after your spanking last night" Peter

explained.

"Thanks" Sam said as he sat back in his recliner and let Peter put him

into a familiar position.

Peter raised Sam's taut legs over the arms of the chair and spread them

wide open. He then got some leather cords out of his gym bag and

crisscrossed them skillfully around Sam's knees and tied them tight to the

metal rings. He connected the rings on Sam's wristbands to the rings on

the armrests and again pulled Sam's feet back by the ankle bands and

tethered them with more cords. The leash attached to his collar rested

lazily over the curves of his chest and abdomen.

"Do I need to secure your head?" Peter asked him.

"No" Sam sighed. He would be a good boy and not fight it.

Peter nodded and pushed the TV on its cart right up to the edge of the chair

so that the screen was right in Sam's face, right between his

spread-eagled legs.

"What are you doing?"

"Just getting you comfortable" Peter explained as he replaced the tape in

the VCR with one he had in his bag.

"I don't understand."

Peter turned on the set and hit play on the remote. The screen flickered and

an image of a long, flaccid, hose of a penis appeared. It was sliding like a

snake between the cushioned ass of some guy who had his legs spread open and

was moaning and groaning and bucking up and down, begging to be fucked by

this monster. The long, fat tube glistened as though drenched in saliva and

the owner of it kept slapping the other man's ass cheeks and pulling at his

balls.

"Daddy made this tape for you" Peter said. He looked down and saw that Sam

was quickly getting another hard-on. "It's got all sorts of good stuff like

this for you to watch; about six hours worth, I think."

Sam tried to look up and ask Peter why, but he couldn't quite pull his

attention away from the screen. The man with the long cock was dribbling

spit over the slick, smooth hole of the other man and he thought of his own

ass over Daddy's knee and Daddy's finger probing him as he came in forceful

spasms. His erection began bobbing and Peter chuckled and walked away to

finish dressing.

"I think Daddy was right about you" Peter commented as he pulled a clean

shirt over his head and slipped on his socks. "Of course, I don't think he's

been wrong, yet."

Sam couldn't hear him at the time. The picture on the screen was zoomed in

on the tip of this long snake as it poked slowly at the entrance to the

other man's shiny wet button. Sam could feel his own, tight hole flexing

and exposed between his spread legs and it sent little tingles up through

his crotch.

Sam barely noticed when the volume went down and something cold and hard

touched his ear. And then he saw Peter standing over him and realized it was

the phone.

"It's for you, I think" Peter grinned, and he pushed the button to answer

the call.

Sam froze. He hadn't even heard the ringing. The soft, pink head of that

snake on the video was pressing its way inside with agonizing sluggishness

and he heard his mother's voice in his ear.

"Sam, are you there?" she asked. "I tried to call you at work... "

"Uh... " he breathed. "Yeah... well... I... I just... I just wasn't feeling

well, so I thought I should stay home and rest."

He saw the pink head pop its way inside and the thickness of the shaft

started spreading and invading and penetrating ever so slowly. His mother

went on talking about how he should take it easy, then, and wondered if he

had enough food and could she, perhaps, get him something?

"No, no" Sam insisted. "I'm fine. I don't need anything." Under no

circumstances did he want anyone coming over for any reason.

Now Peter was rubbing Sam's inner thigh as he held the phone and the snake

cock on the screen was still sliding its full length inside the widening ass

of the man who was begging for it.

"Yes... " Sam answered his mother. "Well, I don't know... no, Mom... I

think Sarah has plans... yes, I... well, I'm not sure... I might be busy."

That huge cock on the video that had plowed so slowly and so mercilessly

into that tight little ass had finally reached its hilt and the ass swayed

and ground and was slapped and spanked and then the snake began to withdraw

just as slowly, inch by incredible inch.

"Okay, Mom... okay... I'll try to be there. Yes, I'll ask her. I just...

no... I just can't promise. Things are just... " He glanced up at Peter and

then down at Peter's hand rubbing his thighs. "Things are just kinda

complicated right now."

The greased hose on the video slid all the way back up and out and the pink

head popped from the gaping hole and was rubbed around the ring of the

sphincter until the orifice reached the point of full closure, and then the

snake pushed its way back in, causing a new series of moans and groans of

pleasure.

Peter could hear the buzz of the voice on the other end of the phone line

and he enjoyed the frustration on Sam's face as he tried to carry on this

conversation with a pulsing hard-on and some man caressing him and the

images flashing before the TV screen.

Finally, Sam got to the end of the conversation and said his good-byes and

Peter pulled the phone away and disconnected the line. The snake was now

sliding up and down inside the ass on the video and other angles showed

these two l

Part 6 of 11

By: Little Boi Blu

(m/m auth bond humi oral anal)

===========================================================================

Sam lost track of time sitting there in the recliner with his legs spread

wide. Though still apprehensive about Peter leaving the door unlocked, he

had at least settled into a mild, sexual stupor with the images flashing

before him on his TV screen. Either out of curiosity or attraction, he

couldn't stop watching them. He would try to turn away at times, but it was

no use. A small, wet stain had developed in the seat of the chair where the

tip of his penis would rest from time to time, alternating between

semi-erection and full hardness. And every time he heard footsteps outside

his apartment, he would find himself hoping and praying that Peter would

return soon.

Each scene in the video Peter had left for him to watch had a common theme

to it: a large cock invading a smooth, round ass. Sometimes the ass seemed

willing and eager, sometimes not. But none of them looked like they were

professionally made and, in fact, some scenes featured Daddy's own monster

sliding in so deep, it made it look like the ass was impaled on a large, tan

post. It seemed to Sam that the message was clear enough: His poor,

straight ass was next.

After nearly four hours sitting in his defenseless position, Sam finally

heard a pair of footsteps that stopped right outside his apartment. When he

heard a light tapping on the door, his blood went cold and his current

erection quickly softened. He knew Peter wouldn't knock and so he held his

breath and hoped the volume on the TV was low enough to go undetected.

"Hello?" the female voice said as the doorknob turned and the door opened.

With his chair turned away from the intruder, Sam blurted out desperately,

"Get out!" He didn't recognize the voice, but that didn't matter. It wasn't

Peter... and it was female.

"I'm just gonna come in for a few minutes," the voice said and Sam could

hear her footsteps on his carpet and could feel the gust of outside air run

over his bare skin as the door opened wide and then closed behind her.

"Get out! Get out! Get out!" Sam yelled frantically, squirming and rocking

in his chair. "You've got the wrong apartment! Get out!"

"Stop yelling like that," she told him. "Do you want the whole neighborhood

to hear you?"

Struggling vainly to pull himself free of his bonds and run to his bedroom

and hide, Sam realized that raising his voice like that would only do more

harm than good. But he continued to protest, begging her not to come in any

further and to leave at once.

It did no good, however. She removed her coat and laid it over the dining

table. Then she strolled over to the chair and looked down at Sam as he

struggled. Under normal circumstances, Sam would have found her very

attractive and worth flirting with. She was young and slim and curved in all

the right places, with the outline of her nipples pressed against her tight

shirt.

"Hi there," she said with a curious grin. She looked him over as he strained

every muscle in his finely tuned body, trying to move out of his position in

even the slightest bit. The image of Daddy's swollen cock was sliding around

on the TV screen, slimed in saliva and milky-white cum atop a shuddering

round ass.

"Go away!" he begged over and over. But she instead put her hands between

her legs and bent over and examined Sam's shriveled penis as he squirmed.

"Oh my gawd!" she gasped. "Peter was right. That's the smallest one yet!"

Nearing exhaustion from his futile struggle, Sam's hands strained to reach

at his crotch to cover his embarrassment and his legs could only shudder as

he tried without success to move them together. "Please go away," he pleaded

with her.

She eyed her way up his body and looked at him. Sam paused from his

struggles when their eyes met, but then her gaze dropped slightly to the tag

on his collar and he could see it on her lips as she read the number to

herself. This woman now knew exactly how he measured up.

"Peter told me you were the smallest one they ever got," she said with a

slight shake of her head. "I'm his girlfriend, by the way. My name's Gina."

She smiled in a condescending way, like some mother talking to her little

boy about how sorry she was he turned out the way he did.

The tension in Sam's body was wearing him down. There was nowhere to hide

and no way out of this situation. His legs were spread wide open for her

observation and she was looking him over quite thoroughly. He was slowly

resigning himself from any hope of turning her away.

When Gina reached in to pull his penis up with her thumb and forefinger,

Sam used up the last of his energy trying to prevent it. But the only

thing he could manage to do successfully was watch her as she raised it up

and pulled at it curiously.

"You know," she observed, "I saw my little brother naked once, when he was

thirteen. His was much bigger than this." She laughed with amusement as she

played with it like a delicate string.

"Let go," Sam said, not liking her comparison at all. He bucked his hips

slightly as if that would convince her to release the pinch she had on his

shaft. But this only seemed to amuse her more.

"You like to watch this stuff?" she asked as she glanced over at the TV

screen. She continued to hold his penis up with her two fingers.

"No," Sam grunted. "I'm being forced to watch it. Now let me go!"

"Your chair looks pretty sticky," she noted. She dabbled a finger lightly in

the small puddle of pre-cum on the seat and began rubbing it over the head

of his stick. With Daddy's cock taunting him on the screen and the cool,

slimy sensation now greasing his sensitive skin, Sam's erection took hold

and his embarrassment grew with it.

"Please," he pleaded with her. "Please stop doing that."

Ignoring his pleas, she started rubbing his upper body with her other hand

and commented on what a beautiful boy he was. And she kept using that word

"boy."

"I'm not a boy," he argued, unable to look at her as she played with him at

will. He felt her pinch at his shaft, now hard from the wet massage.

"Are you sure about that?" she grinned.

He glanced down at himself as he squirmed and saw her two fingers on his

little rocket and it did make him think of a little boy the way she held it

there like that. Beyond his focus, he caught the glistening image of Daddy's

big penis hanging flaccid on the TV screen, swaying masterfully over the

creamed ass it had just invaded, and the sight of it caused his penis to

pulse for her and she laughed.

"So, what do ya think?" came Peter's voice from behind. Sam hadn't even

heard him enter.

"You're right," Gina answered. "He's cute. Small, but cute." She finally

released Sam's penis, wiped her fingers off on his leg, and stood over

him.

"He's a really good cocksucker," Peter said. He came up behind Gina and put

his arms around her from behind and gently rubbed her hips. "He sucked me

off in the shower this morning. He's pretty eager once he gets into it."

Sam gasped and squirmed and denied it to her but she only shook her head

and asked him if he liked sucking her boyfriend's cock. Sam grew silent as

he watched Peter move his hands up under her shirt and caress her firm

breasts. Gina acted as if nothing were out of the ordinary and even grabbed

behind her and rubbed at Peter's ass, pleased with his attention.

"Did he deep you?" she asked Peter.

"Naa, not yet. His Daddy will teach him how to do that."

"Did he swallow?"

"Oh yeah!" Peter smiled. He slid his hands out of her shirt and walked

around her and thrust the growing hard-on under his jeans at Sam's face.

"He couldn't get enough of it."

Sam struggled anew with his bonds, desperate to keep Peter from telling

this woman anything more about what he had done. But the heat and size of

Peter's bulge drew his face closer to it.

"I think he wants to suck it right now!" Gina laughed. "At least he's got

good taste."

Peter turned and kissed her and thanked her for the compliment. Sam's eyes

were fixed on the long curve pressing against Peter's buttoned fly and could

feel his own member pulsing harder than ever and he hated it. He hated that

he was feeling an odd sense of jealousy. He wished Peter's girlfriend would

stop looking at him and just leave. He wished he were alone with Peter, safe

from female scrutiny. Then Peter would make him open his mouth and he would

be forced to beg for another intimate moment with Peter's long, slender

meat. He wanted his privacy... with Peter.

"Just promise you'll save some for me after you're through training him,"

Gina told Peter between kisses. "I love sucking that big tool, too."

"Maybe later, you and this boy can share it together," Peter told her. "Then

he can show you how good he is."

She patted Peter's ass lovingly and told him that would be fun. Then she

kissed him one last time and told him she had to get going.

"Good luck in your training," Gina said to Sam as she slipped her coat on.

She put her hand over Peter's crotch and gripped at the long hose inside.

"And take good care of this for me, little boy."

Then Gina and Peter said their good-byes and finally, Sam heard Gina exit.

All at once, his body relaxed and he felt utterly exhausted from the tension

of having a woman see him the way he was in that chair.

"Why didn't you lock the door?" Sam blurted out in frustration.

Peter came over and shut off the TV and squatted down next to him. He patted

Sam's chest and smiled. "Because I didn't feel like it, boy. And that's

none of your business, anyway. Your only concern is to do as you're told and

be happy doing it. Do you understand?"

Sam wanted an apology. He wanted the whole incident erased from his

memory. He wanted Peter to at least acknowledge whose apartment it was and

whose money he had taken and whose car he had borrowed. But when he opened

his mouth to complain, Peter leaned forward and slipped his tongue in and

kissed him slowly and gently. Sam's eyes widened as Peter's lips and

tongue pressed against his own and intertwined them. As Peter's tongue

continued to probe his mouth and his hands caressed his face, Sam's

startled expression softened and his eyes began to close. Unable to pull

away, Sam melted into submission and found his own tongue anxious to enter

into Peter, twisting and sliding and pressing to please him, losing all

sense that this was another guy kissing him passionately and not his

girlfriend. Sam's little rocket was ready to blast off.

Peter pulled away as Sam's tongue continued to probe and he told Daddy's

boy that he was to be good and obey. Sam pulled his tongue sheepishly back

into his mouth and licked his lips, wondering what had just happened and

what it meant. He remained perfectly silent and perfectly still as Peter

undid him from the chair and tugged at his leash.

Aching a bit from sitting there so long and dazed from the kiss, Sam

forgot all of his complaints and slid onto the floor and stretched his tired

limbs. Peter reached into his gym bag and pulled out two short chains with

clips on either end. With each chain, he clipped one end to a wristband and

the other to a ring on Sam's collar. This effectively left Sam sitting

up on his knees with his hands trapped close to his face like a begging dog

waiting to do tricks

Not allowing Sam to stand, Peter pulled him slowly along into the bedroom,

where Daddy's little boy climbed awkwardly up on the bed as he was told to

do. Peter rolled him onto his back and told him to stay there while he got

undressed.

While he lay there contemplating his new restraints that kept his arms bent

up and his hands at his shoulders, he could hear Peter in the bathroom

peeing a forceful stream into the toilet. When Peter returned, he was naked

and smiling. He got up on the bed and straddled Sam's chest and let his

flaccid cock dangle forward in Sam's face. Salty, bitter droplets hit

Sam's lips as he glanced upwards, mesmerized by Peter's fleshy size.

"Suck it dry," Peter told him. Peter swung it playfully over his face and

lowered the head of his curved cock to Sam's lips and Sam quickly began

sucking at the tip and licking off the excess liquid. In his mind, Sam saw

no other choice.

Peter pulled his curved pole out of Sam's mouth as his erection grew and

slid it down over Sam's chest until he was lying flat on top of Daddy's

boy. Their two erections met and Sam felt dwarfed the way Peter covered

him. All that Sam could do with his hands was rest them on Peter's

shoulders as Peter leaned in and gently kissed his lips.

"Do you want to kiss me some more, boy?" Peter asked him.

Sam felt Peter's hands caressing his body around every curve they could

reach. Things began happening quite rapidly, leaving no time for

contemplation. Peter's legs wrapped around the outside of Sam's legs and

hooked them together and he could feel Peter's erection, extended over his

abdomen far beyond his own, rhythmically sliding over him. Sam couldn't

remember the last time he had ever been that close, that intimate, that

intertwined with another human being. Their two young, hard bodies began

generating a heat that clouded Sam's reasoning and led him to yield to a

quiet, "Okay."

"Open your mouth," Peter instructed.

Sam felt the heels of Peter's feet rubbing against the cheeks of his ass

as their legs continued to mingle. He could feel Peter's heavy sac of jewels

rolling lazily over his own as the kid above him gyrated and he opened his

mouth as if gasping for air.

Peter grinned and let a small stream of his saliva ooze from his lips above

and watched with amusement at how Daddy's boy shuddered when it entered his

mouth. Then Peter followed in after it with his tongue as Sam's bound

hands pressed against his chest.

At first, Sam had told himself to just shut his eyes and imagine it was

Sarah, instead. But the forbidden nature of it released an excitement in him

that he had never quite known before. Their tongues were snaking around and

pressing against each other without limits. When Peter paused to lick his

way down Sam's chin and unwrap their legs, Sam found himself anxious for

the return of Peter's tongue to his mouth. Peter reached down and guided

Sam's legs up and over his back. Soon, Daddy's little boy had his legs

spread open and wrapped around Peter's lower back like he was clinging tight

and not wanting to let go.

Peter again formed a collection of saliva in his mouth. Seeing what Peter

wanted to do, Sam obediently opened his mouth to it and felt the warm

liquid wash over his tongue. Again they kissed, and Sam could feel Peter

reaching down to massage his ass and run his hands up and down his legs.

Then Peter began pushing Sam's legs up closer to his head. Pulling his

tongue out of Sam's mouth once more, Peter slid down between Sam's legs

and slowly pushed and bent them up to Sam's chest, spreading them a bit

wider as he went.

"What are you doing?" Sam gasped. He was still delirious from the taste of

Peter in his mouth and the hot passion that had consumed him while his legs

were being manipulated without resistance.

"Whatever I want," Peter responded.

Sam squirmed a bit when Peter took hold of his ankles and began stroking

his long, curved pole up and down between Sam's legs, right down the crack

of his full, smooth cheeks.

Sam glanced up between his raised legs and saw the head of Peter's hard

cock poking its way over his own little balls and he squirmed a bit at the

reminder of the video.

"Are you... are you gonna fuck me?" Sam asked nervously.

Peter had his eyes closed, clearly enjoying the sensation of his cock

rubbing against Sam's smooth crack. He was pressing between both cheeks

and feeling the reflexive tremble of Sam's asshole.

"I'm not into that," Peter told him. "I just like jerking off this way."

Not sure what to think, Sam felt a strange relief, as if he was happy that

another man liked rubbing his cock between his ass without actually

penetrating. Peter's lack of desire to penetrate his ass only made him more

heterosexual in Sam's mind. Maybe they were just two straight guys

experimenting a little. Somehow, that seemed to make it more permissible.

Sam found himself starting to help. He spread his legs even wider and

pulled them back closer to his chest to accommodate Peter's enjoyment.

Peter paused momentarily to string Sam's leash through a ring on each of

the ankle bands and then he put the end of the leash into Sam's hands and

told him to pull.

"You're not gonna fuck me, right?" Sam asked again for clarification.

Peter shook his head and so Sam pulled at the leash and effectively held

his own legs up like a baby waiting for a diaper change.

"More," Peter instructed. Sam awkwardly fed more of the leash through his

hands until his knees were bent and his feet were almost to his ears and his

tight little asshole was clearly exposed and pointing straight to the

ceiling.

"Perfect!" Peter said. Then Peter leaned in and took the leash from Sam's

grip and tied it tight to one of the wristbands. Then he gripped Sam's

hindquarters with both hands and resumed his cock stroking over Sam's

crack, running the length of his erection up and down over the hole in a

joyful rhythm.

Sam only grunted and groaned at his slightly uncomfortable and very

exposed condition that he helped manage. There was nothing left to say, no

escape possible. But Sam found the look and feel of Peter's long, stroking

erection between his legs erotically pleasing.

"Do you like having my big cock between your legs?" Peter asked and he

rubbed it slowly. "Does it feel good?"

Sam saw the curved, glistening pink head of Peter's cock cresting over his

own little package like a long canoe stroking its way upriver. Peter lorded

it over him, waiting for a reply, and gave Sam's ass a slap.

Not knowing what else to say, Sam sighed as he marveled at Peter's length

and the feel of its silky shaft against his ass. "Yes," he admitted. All

Peter had to do was look at Sam's little erection pointing straight down

into his abdomen to see that Sam was fully pleased by it all.

"Good boy," Peter said with a smile. He slapped at Sam's ass again and

resumed his stroking.

As Peter was rubbing his tool, Sam noticed a shadow appearing over them

and he could suddenly smell the scent of leather. He glanced over and saw

Daddy towering over the both of them and he gasped and squirmed slightly.

Peter held him in place, however, by merely grabbing his ass and he

continued stroking as if nothing had happened.

Daddy was wearing his long, black coat and he stood there watching the two

naked men on the bed with a look of satisfaction. Sam noticed that there

were two other men behind Daddy. They both looked as young as he and Peter

and they were both on their knees and were wearing leather wristbands and

ankle bands and collars. On each of their collars hung gray, metal tags like

his own. The one on the right was clearly labeled "5 1/4" and the other was

an even "5". Each of their collars was connected to a leather leash and

Daddy held each of these leashes in his hand. And with the exception of the

hair on their heads, they were both completely smooth and bare.

"So, my little boy likes big cocks between his legs, huh?" Daddy asked

bemusedly as he removed his coat to reveal the same leather outfit he had

worn the first time Sam had met him.

Peter continued to stroke his long member over Sam's ass as if to prove

the point. Daddy reached in and felt the hardness of his boy's little rocket

with a pinch and then unleashed his own, massive manhood from its nylon

restraint. Daddy watched with pleasure as Sam began staring at his flaccid

tool while Peter stroked away.

Then Daddy tugged at the leashes in his hand and told his other two boys to

get up on the bed and assist Peter. The two men responded immediately,

almost in unison, as they replied, "Yes, Daddy."

Daddy's other two boys climbed up on the bed and Peter told them to start

rubbing their little boy sticks on either side of Sam's ass cheeks while

Peter's much larger rod continued to grace the crack. Within minutes, Sam

had three erections rubbing over his exposed, shuddering ass.

"Have you been dreaming about sucking on Daddy's cock some more?" Daddy

asked Sam.

Sam was speechless. The feel of Peter's stroking and the other two little

heads rubbing over his cheeks and the sight of Daddy's long, fat member

swaying near his face was enough to drive him into sensory overload. His

intimate little moment with Peter had suddenly changed into something quite

different.

Not getting the swift answer he was used to, Daddy pushed one of his boys

out of the way and swatted Sam's ass hard with the flat of his hand,

sending shock waves into his system. Before he could give a reply, however,

Sam felt another swat on his ass, followed by yet another.

Realizing that Daddy wasn't going to stop swatting his already tender ass

until he replied, he blurted out, "Yes, Daddy!"

SWAT!

"Yes, Daddy, what?"

"Yes, Daddy!" Sam frantically answered, fearing another emotional bout of

crying in front of even more men. "Yes, I want to suck your cock some more!"

SWAT!

"Have you been dreaming about it?"

"Yes, Daddy!" Sam pleaded. "Yes, I've been dreaming about sucking your

cock!"

Daddy rubbed his hand over Sam's reddened cheek and then got up onto the

bed on his knees. The other little boy quickly resumed his penis stroking on

Sam's ass.

"I'm going to let you lick my cock until Peter and the boys are finished,"

Daddy told him. "What do you say, boy?"

Slightly confused and smarting from the swats on his ass, Sam answered

cautiously, "Thank you, Daddy."

Daddy straddled Sam's face and let his heavy sac of balls rest on Sam's

forehead. Sam stared straight up into the pee slit of Daddy's soft, fat

member and his envy grew into desire.

"Say it again, boy," Daddy told him.

"Thank you, Daddy."

With those words, Daddy's head touched Sam's lips and he let the large

snake slide into his mouth to meet the wetness of his anxious tongue. He

took as much of it as he could into his mouth and Daddy never pulled out.

While Sam's identity disappeared suckling Daddy's meat, Peter continued

his stroking and telling the other boys not to come until he told them to.

"Yes, sir," both of them replied.

"Did you do everything I instructed?" Daddy asked Peter.

"Yep," Peter grinned. "But he didn't shave his bush."

Daddy reached down while Sam sucked obliviously and rubbed a finger into

the silky blond hair between his new boy's legs. "Yes, I see. He'll be

punished accordingly."

"Mmm..." Peter moaned. "Almost ready."

Daddy nodded and looked down at his boy and was pleased at how generously

Sam's tongue was dancing around his growing pole. Daddy collected a large

amount of saliva in his mouth and let it all drop from his lips onto the

base of his growing erection and watched it slide and drip its way down to

Sam's busy face. Aware of Daddy's hot saliva commingling with his own,

Sam could only continue to lick and suck and accept the growing wetness on

his lips and face. Daddy continued to do this until the entire length of his

10-inch shaft was bathed in slickness and Sam was tasting and swallowing

the excess.

Then Peter began to shudder and he grabbed the length of his own hardness

with both hands and stroked himself to a final climax. With Sam's legs

spread wide, he pointed the tip of his cock with careful aim and shot his

streams of cum directly over Sam's tight little hole. Spurt after

carefully aimed spurt collected in a puddle over Sam's pink boy button.

Sam's legs wiggled back and forth at the wet, tickling sensation that this

caused him, as if trying to dislodge a biting mosquito from his sensitive

skin. But Daddy held his legs still by the ankles and let another glob of

saliva pour down to Sam's lips.

After Peter's last drop of cum was squeezed out into the careful puddle he

had formed, he pressed his thumbs within the crack of Sam's ass just above

his cream deposit. Ever so slowly, Peter started to pull the crack open

wider, forcing the tight hole open until, at last, his slimy puddle began to

ooze its way inside of Sam. Daddy could feel his boy attempting to buck

and squirm away as Peter's cum leaked into the opening fissure and he

enjoyed the utter helplessness his boy was experiencing.

Sam would have gasped had he been able to. Another man's ejaculate was

entering his ass in a very slow and unstoppable process and all he could do

was lie there and feel it slide in while sucking another cock to fruition.

When Peter's creamy liquid had drained down so that Sam's spreading hole

could be seen again, the other two boys who had been rubbing their little

sticks nearby asked permission to cum, too. Peter held his thumbs in place

and even spread the tiny hole open just a bit wider. Peter gave his approval

and both boys pointed their erections at Sam's cream-stained gap and shot

their loads.

Again, Sam tried to squirm, still gagged on Daddy's wet cock, and again he

felt the slow, invading ooze of fresh ejaculate creeping into him like a

slow, wet worm that could not be denied entry. Once enough of it had drained

into his helpless boy to satisfy him, Daddy pulled his sopping wet monster

from Sam's mouth and told his boys to place their fingers where Peter's

thumbs were to keep the hole stretched and draining. Then he and Peter

traded places while Sam gasped for air and choked on his words, trembling

at what he knew was coming.

Peter sat above Sam's face and adjusted Sam's body down to a more

accommodating angle for Daddy. He helped to hold the boy steady by grabbing

his ankles. Daddy rested his massive erection between the stickiness of

Sam's crack and began rubbing himself up and down between the trembling

muscles. As if understanding their role completely, both of the other boys

leaned in and began spitting all over their Daddy's tool. Peter leaned over

and spat on it as well while Daddy continued his stroking rhythm.

Unable to admire Peter's flaccid package resting on his forehead, Sam

could only stare down between his own open legs and wait nervously. He

whimpered, "Please don't, Daddy. Please don't," but this only excited Daddy

more. Sam was on the verge of squirting himself in the face with his own

shots of cum.

"Beg Daddy to fuck your ass, boy," Daddy told him.

Sam gasped and trembled at the mere thought of that huge, slimy pole

invading his ass. He could still feel the slick and slimy cream already

inside him, and now the warm saliva was oozing its way in, too.

"Beg me to fuck your ass, boy, and I'll do it nice and slow," Daddy

explained. "But if you don't beg me right now, then I'll ram it in mean and

hard."

Sam knew he only had seconds to reply, and neither of his choices seemed

logically desirable. He felt the tip of Daddy's head dabbing at the pool of

draining liquids over his hole with nothing to stop it from entering. He

closed his eyes tight and began his plea.

"Please, Daddy," Sam gasped. "Please... please fuck me. Fuck me in the

ass. Please, Daddy."

Daddy spat a large glob of saliva over Sam's waiting hole and pressed the

tip of his dick a little harder at the orifice. Sam gasped again and his

begging became more profuse.

"Please, Daddy! Please fuck me in the ass! Fuck your little boy in the ass!

Please, Daddy! Oh please, Daddy!"

"That's what I like to hear," Daddy said with a smile.

Daddy pushed the head of his cock slowly into Sam's stretched hole. Once

the entire glans had popped its way through, Sam's breathing became more

rapid. Daddy paused and told his boy to keep begging. He wanted to hear his

boy begging to be fucked by Daddy until Daddy was all the way inside him.

The two other boys released their hands from Sam's ass and began spitting

on Daddy's wide shaft as Daddy made another slow thrust deeper inside. All

at once, Sam screamed out, "Oh, Daddy!" as his sphincter muscles tried to

contract around Daddy's penetration and his own little rocket drained itself

uncontrollably over his chest and abdomen.

Daddy paused and delighted in the spasms gripping at his cock. He grabbed

Sam's little balls in his hand and squeezed them tight, telling his boy

that he was not given permission to cum and would have to be punished later.

But Sam was oblivious to future punishments. He instinctively wanted to

pull away from the anal invasion and close his legs up tight. However, he

was unable to budge from his position and had to lie there and let this man

squeeze at his balls and feminize his ass at will.

"Keep begging," Daddy told him. "Daddy can't hear you begging."

Wracked with erotic spasms, Sam grunted out more begging and felt Daddy's

long, slimy snake spread his hole even wider, forcing back the straining

sphincter muscles. Daddy pulled back slightly to let his boys contribute

more saliva and then inched his way forward again. Further and further he

slid inside until Sam felt he might just burst. And then Daddy passed a

certain threshold that opened up new sensations within his boy.

"Please fuck me, Daddy!" Sam cried. He cried out of pain. He cried out of

obedience. He cried out of sheer confusion, unable to fathom how he had come

to this moment. And in the midst of it all, there was a trace of pleasure,

an unexplainable, hidden desire to please this man who seemed to be able to

control him so completely.

"Please fuck your little boy, Daddy!" Sam begged, unaware, now, of the

words coming out of his mouth. "Please fuck me!"

Daddy withdrew a bit and the boys on either side again spat on the large

drill mining its way down into the little hole. After each inch, Daddy would

do this until he reached a point where he could slide the remaining inch in

up to the hilt and his balls slapped up against the small of Sam's back.

Fully impaled and impregnated with Daddy's massive snake, Sam looked up

with tears in his eyes and saw his Daddy smiling down at him. He could feel

every hot, slimy inch of that penis inside his body and all he could do was

mutter over and over, "Please fuck me, Daddy. Please fuck me."

With excruciating slowness, Daddy withdrew himself from his boy's ass until

the tip of his cock popped free and rubbed against the rim of Sam's gaping

hole. The other two boys and Peter all spat profusely into the hole as it

began to flex shut and then Daddy reinserted himself and began a long, slow

pumping action that rocked Sam into a sexual stupor.

Seeing that Sam had somewhat adjusted to the feel of Daddy sliding his

monster in and out of his helpless ass, Peter rubbed the wet tip of his own

flaccid member over Sam's lips until the boy licked at the stickiness and

resumed sucking.

Part 7 of 11

By: Little Boi Blu

(m/m auth humi)

===========================================================================

The beat was pulsing through his mind. It consisted of heavy breathing and

gasps of seeming pleasure and sounds of sticky wetness, like a salivating

tongue painting the length of a large candy cane, over and over again

without end. Hidden beneath it all was a voice, whispering words he couldn't

quite understand, but he knew they were there. He knew they were speaking to

him and captivating him and keeping his erection throbbing. It was almost

hypnotic. There was only one word he could make out for sure, and that only

barely: "Daddy."

"Hey, Sam... are you awake, man?"

Sam's eyes snapped open, startled from his thoughts and memories. The

music Peter had him listen to all last night while he slept was still with

him, massaging his brain and stroking him down below. Sam slid a folder

off his desk and placed it in his lap as he turned in his chair to face

Colby.

"Yeah, sorry," Sam replied a bit nervously. "I was just busy. Just busy

thinking." His eyes immediately focused on the outline of Colby's flaccid

member resting against the boxers in his pants and he had to force himself

to look upwards right away and convince himself he wouldn't look at it

again.

"Maybe you should have stayed home another day," Colby said.

"Naa. It was just one of those 24-hour things," he lied. "Bad headache.

Didn't get much sleep."

Sam's eyes betrayed him and he stole another glance at Colby's crotch. He

could feel the increase of saliva in his mouth and the pulsing rhythm in his

head made his thoughts spin and all he could think about was reaching out

and unzipping Colby's long staff from its resting place. He could almost

feel the warm, fleshy head of it grazing his lips.

"Think you'd be up for a game of racquetball tonight?"

Sam rested his hands on the folder in his lap as if the size of the

erection he was hiding was as noticeable as Colby's soft dangler. He felt

inferior to his friend and had the urge to get down on his knees and stop

trying to hide his smaller penis. Some inner voice was telling him this was

his rightful position.

"I, uh... I've gotta go to my parents' for dinner tonight," Sam said with

much difficulty. He was too busy wondering how big Colby's erection could

get, wondering how he could manage to find out without getting caught.

"Thought you didn't like that sort of thing," Colby replied.

"Well, you know..." Sam grabbed a pen from his desk and began clicking it.

And as he was doing this, something reminded him that his pen was longer

than his fullest hard-on. "I kinda got talked into it." He half-smiled as he

looked up at Colby.

Colby, with his straight black hair and smooth complexion, smiled back and

told his friend that he was too full of excuses. "Maybe that last beating I

gave you scared you off or something, huh?"

Sam suddenly imagined himself being bent bare-assed over Colby's knee and

wondered how badly his friend might be able to beat him. He could almost

feel Colby's hand rubbing against the soft skin of his smooth cheeks. "That

was just luck," Sam smiled. "Enjoy it while it lasts."

Colby laughed as he checked his watch. He shifted the weight on his legs to

stand up straighter as he was preparing to walk away and Sam saw the

outline of Colby's long penis slide against the fabric. "Well, until you get

back out on the court, it's gonna last a long time." And then he made light

of Sam's absence from the court for a few moments and excused himself to

get to his next meeting.

Sam quickly spun around at his desk and hid his crotch under the table and

let out a sigh of relief. And still, the image of falling to his knees

before Colby and stroking his friend's big, healthy cock lingered in his

mind like it had never done before and he sensed himself losing control of

his thoughts.

"I'm not gay," he kept thinking to himself. "I'm not gay." But then he kept

remembering what Peter had said. Peter said he wasn't gay, either. He even

had a girlfriend. And yet, Peter liked doing all these things with other

men. Sam couldn't get over how much he had enjoyed sucking on Peter's

long, curvy pole, either. If Peter wasn't gay and Colby isn't gay...

Suddenly, the phone rang. Sam grabbed it quickly, pushing back those

thoughts with all his might.

"How's Daddy's boy doing today?" said the voice on the other end.

The hand holding the phone began to tremble and Sam's palms began to

perspire. He slunk closer yet to his desk and glanced around to see if

anyone was looking over in his direction. "How did you get this number?"

Sam whispered in a somewhat offended tone.

"Your Daddy makes it a point to know everything about his boys," Daddy told

him in his deep, commanding voice.

"You can't call me here," Sam told him desperately and quietly. "I have to

go."

"Did Peter shave you?" Daddy asked, casually ignoring Sam's attempt to end

the conversation.

Sam paused and glanced around again and was reminded of the strange

emptiness in his briefs from the missing curls of blond hair. Even the

sparse hair of his armpits was now gone.

"Yes," Sam whispered in a more defeated tone of voice.

"Yes, what?" Daddy said, wanting a more appropriate reply from his boy.

Sam gulped and raised his head up over his cubicle to make sure no one was

listening nearby. "Yes, Daddy," he whispered in his quietest voice yet.

"Good boy," Daddy approved. "Now, I realize that shaving is a bit crude, but

fortunately, you didn't have much hair to shave. We'll take a more permanent

approach when you're ready. After all, little boys like you shouldn't have

hair like that. Now, are you wearing your ankle bands?"

"Yes," Sam replied. Then he thought for a moment and whispered as quietly

as he could again, "Yes, Daddy." The bands were hidden under his socks and

it felt like Daddy had a grip on his ankles even then and could spread his

legs apart at will. Sam's erection pulsed when he thought of them.

"And did Peter pull your plug out this morning? Did you get to empty

yourself of all of Daddy's juices while Peter watched?"

Sam recalled the humiliation of it all, of having to get down on his hands

and knees that morning, moaning and groaning and squirming as he raised his

ass high in the air for Peter to pry the plug from his tight little hole.

Then Peter had stood there and watched as Sam emptied himself of all the

previous night's exploits before bathing him like a dog again and dressing

him.

"Yes... Daddy."

"Peter told me how much you enjoyed kissing him. He also told me how much

you enjoyed stroking his long cock and sucking on it last night. He said you

spent over an hour licking that thing before he came again."

"I had no choice," Sam whispered defensively.

"Peter didn't make you do it," Daddy said. "You just wanted to. All you ever

do is dream about big, long, fat cocks. You practically worship them. You

want to hold them and kiss them and lick them and suck them dry. Are you

thinking about Daddy's big penis right now? Are you having trouble deciding

whether you want it in your mouth or sliding up your tight, little ass? I'll

bet you're hard right now thinking about it."

He could hear Daddy chuckling while his little erection pulsed as if on

command, as if Daddy could see his erection through the phone.

"Did you enjoy your music last night?" Daddy asked. "Was it soothing? Did it

give you good dreams?"

Sam had slept last night as if his naked form was covered in long, silky

smooth penises rubbing all over his muscular body. And he had felt pregnant

from Daddy's load inside him and the plug that kept it all in there. The

headset Peter had placed over his ears was secured tightly and all night

long, he dreamt of being Daddy's little boy and wanting to please Daddy in

any way possible. Even as Daddy spoke to him on the phone, he had to fight

the urge to give in to this growing desire whispering in his head.

"I... I guess," Sam whispered. He knew he couldn't answer in the negative.

He knew that wouldn't please Daddy and he struggled with it moment by

moment.

"Of course it did," Daddy assured him. "And you want to listen to more of

those tapes, don't you?"

Strangely enough, he did. Something inside him wanted to just enough to

answer, "I guess so. Uh... I mean, yes, Daddy."

"Good boy. There's one in your car that you can play while you're driving

home. And there are others you can listen to that Peter put in your

briefcase, along with a player. You can listen to those while you work."

Sam glanced over at the briefcase that he hadn't even opened since he got

to work. He had a sudden longing to open it and he could already hear the

pulsing, gasping "music" drifting through his thoughts, along with the

gentle whispers that made him feel warm all over inside.

"These are Daddy's instructions for his boy. Do you understand?"

Sam's erection pulsed again. "Yes, Daddy." He almost didn't whisper it

that time.

"Have you asked for your vacation yet?" Daddy asked him.

"No, not yet," Sam replied. "I... I just can't. I mean, I don't think I

can get..."

"Would you rather we show all your family and friends the videos we made

together? You probably didn't notice it, but I had last night's performance

taped, as well. Your little ass was very cherry. And the way you sucked..."

"Okay," Sam gasped. "Okay, okay. I'll try."

"When Daddy tells his boy to do something, he should do more than just try.

You're still not being fully obedient. Get your vacation time like Daddy

told you and then listen to your tapes and be home on time. And don't forget

to check your email. You can consider it a warning... and a punishment for

your hesitation."

And without any sort of formal good-bye, Daddy hung up and left Sam

wondering what it all meant. He slowly set the phone back down on the

receiver and moved over to his computer and clicked open his mail program.

Amid all the company mail was one item that had just come in that was

addressed to all the users in the building. It had no return address that he

could see, but there was an attachment.

Nervously, Sam opened the most questionable mail first and almost

instantly a picture appeared on his screen that almost caused him to

hyperventilate. It was a close-up shot of a small, erect penis that was

shaped like a little rocket and stood between two spread, muscular legs.

Down at the bottom of the picture was the simple caption: "4 1/2"

Within moments, he could hear others in the office laughing and gasping and

could see people standing up and encouraging others to check their mail. The

picture was cropped just above the navel and you could see the little, blond

bush behind the base of the erection, but there were no immediate clues to

determine who was being pictured. And it wasn't a video capture, either. It

was a crystal clear, high-resolution shot from a digital camera that

accentuated every detail perfectly.

But Sam, of course, knew his own penis when he saw it. And the fact that

everyone in the company was now seeing it scared him senseless. His erection

faded, he quickly closed his inbox and stood up and saw how everyone was

reacting to the sudden surprise. Some wondered how something like that got

past their security system. He heard one woman laughing loudly and another

girl lamenting at the smallness of it. A few identified it as child

pornography and thought they should call the cops.

Sam slouched back down behind the walls of his cubicle and sat staring at

the computer screen and felt utterly worthless and humiliated. Everyone he

knew in the company would soon be looking at his small erection and making

jokes about it. All the women he ever flirted with would be laughing and

even Colby would see it when he got back from his meeting and make comments

about it. Not until that moment did Sam fully realize the magnitude of

power that Daddy had over his personal life now.

"Hey, Sam!" a female voice called out to him. "Look at this!"

Sam turned slightly and saw Carla, one of the receptionists that he always

found attractive, flashing a newly printed, color copy of the picture of his

erection.

"Look at this poor guy! I think we should start a collection for his

enlargement surgery!" She had a bright smile and was laughing and talking to

Sam as if Sam were just another hung guy who would see the humor in such

smallness.

"Looks pretty small," Sam commented. He did his best to smile and not look

nervous. Would they all see the blond curls, he wondered? Would they match

it with the long, blond hair on his head, or would they notice the muscular

abdomen and make a connection somehow?

"Four and a halfs worth," she announced, pointing to the number on

the bottom. "And look at those tiny balls, there. Like little marbles.

Aren't those cute?" She was thoroughly tickled by the whole thing and didn't

stay there long enough to wait for his answer. She moved on to the next

cubicle, and then the next. The whole office was buzzing.

After about ten minutes of contemplation over the noise in the office,

afraid to even move from his chair, Sam's phone rang again and he waited

until the fifth ring to answer it.

"How is everyone enjoying the picture?" Daddy asked him.

"How could you?" Sam started. "You can't... you can't do this!" he shouted

in a desperate whisper. "We had a deal..."

"Are you questioning my judgment?" Daddy asked him sternly. "Are you trying

to tell me what I can and cannot do?"

Sam stammered quietly, trying to think how to respond. He wondered what he

could gain by complaining. This somewhat anonymous picture that Daddy had

sent was only the tip of the iceberg. He didn't dare tempt Daddy to do worse

if he could help it.

"No," Sam finally answered. "No, no... I just..."

"No, what?" Daddy corrected.

"No, I didn't mean..." Sam was shaking from frustration. "I mean, no,

Daddy," he whispered. "I'm not trying to tell you..."

"That's right," Daddy barked at him. "You never tell Daddy what to do. Daddy

tells YOU what to do and you need to do it without question, otherwise you

get punished. Do you understand this, boy?"

Beneath all the buzz around the office, Sam lowered his head over the

phone and, feeling somewhat humbled, muttered, "Yes, Daddy."

"That little penis you see in the picture doesn't belong to you, it belongs

to me," Daddy told him. "Do you understand, boy?"

Sam held his hand over his open ear to block out all the other noise and

he could again sense the pulsing rhythm of Daddy's "music" in his head "Yes,

Daddy," he mumbled.

"I want Daddy's little boy to get an erection," Daddy told him. "I want you

to get hard right now. Are you getting hard for Daddy?"

Wracked with frustration and unable to control himself, Sam felt the

pulsing of his penis anew as Daddy spoke his command. Within moments, the

little rocket was pressing against his pants again and Sam could feel the

imaginary grip of Daddy's hands on his ankles, spreading him open.

"Yes," Sam gasped shamefully. "Yes, Daddy." Yes, he was getting hard for

Daddy, getting hard on command. He didn't understand how or why, but the

sound of Daddy's voice had some effect, and the idea of pleasing Daddy made

it all the more powerful.

"You see," Daddy explained. "It's not so difficult learning your place.

Being Daddy's little boy is what you were meant to be. Tell me you

understand this."

Sam's hard-on was pulsing to the rhythms inside his brain, the undulating

beats that Daddy's voice seemed to be stirring. He knew what the answer to

the question was. He didn't dare upset Daddy further. "I understand, Daddy."

"What are you?" Daddy asked.

Sam glanced around while his erection bobbed up and down in his hidden lap

and replied softly, "I'm Daddy's little boy."

"That's better," Daddy said. "That's much better. You can lose your

erection, now, and go get your vacation time. After that, I want you back at

your desk listening to those tapes in your briefcase. Listen to them over

and over again until it's time to go home. Don't let anyone disturb you. Do

you understand, boy?"

"Yes, Daddy," Sam whispered meekly. He glanced over at his computer and

could still hear people in the office laughing about the picture. His

erection faded and he understood quite clearly what Daddy meant.

"I'll see you later tonight, then," Daddy said. "Don't be late."

"I won't," Sam told him. Now that it was clear what he was up against, he

knew he couldn't risk being late for anything this man had planned for him.

"I mean, I won't, Daddy."

"Good boy." And then Sam heard a click and Daddy was gone.

Standing slowly, Sam looked around at all the people in the office

gossiping about the picture. Other people had made printouts of it, too, and

Sam's little penis was quickly becoming the new pinup sensation. The men

were shaking their heads in what Sam perceived as pity and the women were

covering their mouths as they tried not to laugh so hard.

He waded through the swarm and did his best to avoid as many flying comments

as he could, though he had to pause on occasion to nod and agree and share

in the laughter and the pity. He concentrated on not looking guilty and

found himself flexing his taut muscles a bit in order to seem like the sort

of man who would never have such a small penis dangling between his legs.

Sam spent almost half an hour pleading with his supervisor before getting

a reluctant agreement to have the following week off. He wondered if his

boss couldn't sense the utter desperation in his voice and maybe that's why

he finally relented. But whatever the reason, Sam felt a great weight

lifted, as if he had just prevented the release of one of Daddy's videos to

all of his friends and family.

He finally sat back down at his cubicle and grew more relieved as the buzz

over the picture faded. Colby came by and told Sam how sad and pathetic it

was for a man to not only have a penis that small, but to want to send it

out on the Internet like that. Sam kept stealing glances at the outline of

Colby's own, much larger member as he agreed with him, and he began

wondering again how large Colby could get and how much it would dwarf his

little rocket.

After Colby and his swaying manhood departed for another department, Sam

pulled the Walkman out of his briefcase and popped in one of Daddy's

cassettes and sat back at the computer listening to the odd, hypnotic

rhythms which pulsed and breathed into his ears and made him think of

suckling Peter's curvy erection and gave him the sense of Daddy watching

over him approvingly.

Before long, Sam's eyelids grew heavy and he could hear voices in his

head, though he couldn't quite make out what they were saying. But somehow,

he understood them. The "music" from the cassette was like heavy breathing

and slurping noises, and there was a slight smacking sound, which reminded

Sam of Daddy's hand slapping against his firm, round ass. He could also

feel Daddy's big, masculine hand clamped over his hairless crotch and could

feel the tickle of Daddy's fingertip against his tight, pink hole.

Subconsciously, he clamped his ankles to the legs of his chair as if they

had been tied there, unable to move, and everything he was sensing and

feeling warned him to stop listening to those tapes. But the gentle whisper

beneath it all was just enough to keep him from pushing the stop button.

Part 8 of 11

By: Little Boi Blu

(m/m+ auth oral)

===========================================================================

All the way home from work, Sam listened to the tape Daddy had provided

for him on his car stereo. It gave him an instant erection, which he sported

throughout the ride. At intersections, he would sit at the light and glance

around nervously to see who might be watching, unaware of how his hand was

stroking at the gearshift. Unable to bring himself to lower the volume, he

made sure the windows were closed tight. His speakers were full of heavy

breathing and wet noises and one single thought kept creeping through his

mind: that he could only be happy if he was pleasing Daddy. Every time he

tried to shake the idea out of his head or distract himself by trying to

focus on something outside along the road, it only came back at him stronger

and made his erection pulse.

"Daddy..." he heard himself whisper to himself, as if repeating the voice in

his head. He glanced down at his hand massaging the gearshift and could see

Daddy's massive erection pointing up at him and he kept having urges to bend

down and suck on it and this made him shake nervously. He knew he had to

turn the tape off. He had to get these thoughts out of his head. But he had

been listening to them all day. He felt himself sinking away from his own

sense of self-control. Every time he reached for the eject button, a sense

of failure washed over him and that warm, tingling sensation between his

legs would ebb until he drew his hand away again and went back to stroking

the gearshift.

Sam had to walk all the way up to his apartment with his briefcase hiding

his crotch, though he knew it was more to hide his embarrassment than to

hide any obvious signs of his erection. The voices in his head kept

reminding him that he was too small and too insignificant to be noticed.

Only men like Daddy and Peter would get noticed. And Colby, he thought.

The moment Sam entered his apartment, he quickly shut the door behind him

and his briefcase dropped to the floor. Sitting comfortably in one of his

dining chairs directly facing him was Daddy. Daddy was sitting tall in the

chair with his legs spread open wide and his magnificently thick penis

towering straight up between his legs.

One of Daddy's boys was kneeling obediently at his side and the other was

kneeling in between Daddy's legs, busily stroking the huge erection with his

eager tongue. Both of these boys were like Sam. They were smooth, young

and muscular and they both wore leather collars and leather bands around

their wrists and ankles. Both were smaller in stature than Daddy and each of

them were shaved bare and looked like little boys.

Neither of these two boys were the boys that had been with Daddy the night

before, suggesting that Daddy had several men like this who served him.

Sam noticed the tag on the collar of the boy kneeling at Daddy's side,

clearly marked as "5 1/2". And though he couldn't see the tag of the boy who

was busy sucking on Daddy's cock, he could make out the shape of a small,

smooth sack of balls and the tiny head of a penis hanging between his legs

as he knelt there with his bubbled ass jutted out. Protruding from the crack

of the boy's ass was a long, silver chain that dangled between his legs and

reminded Sam of one of Daddy's plugs.

"You're five minutes late, boy," Daddy told him with a disappointed glare.

There was no explanation of how these three men got into his apartment while

he was gone. And it had gotten to the point where Sam didn't even bother

to ask. Clearly, his life was spinning out of control and strangers were

coming and going through his world as they pleased, now. The rhythms of

Daddy's music were still beating in his head and he had trouble

concentrating on anything except Daddy's glazed erection and the tongue that

was snaking all over its length.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled. He quickly caught Daddy's glare and added, "Sorry,

Daddy."

Daddy tugged on the leash of the boy kneeling beside him and the 5 1/2" boy

quickly got up and walked over to Sam. As if completely pleased to be

doing something for his Daddy, this boy's uncut penis stretched out to

attention rapidly. Sam also noticed that this boy had leather bands and a

collar in his right hand.

"Get on your knees, boy," Daddy told Sam.

Sam could hear the loud slurping and sucking noises coming from the other

boy's tongue as it labored to please Daddy. Sam could feel the involuntary

increase in saliva production in his own mouth and the desire to also please

Daddy began to drown out his own objections and fears of what he was getting

himself into. He also knew what Daddy could do to his life if he disobeyed.

The picture sent to his office that day had given him a very clear

perspective on how easily Daddy could ruin him publicly.

Sam slowly knelt down and could feel the erection in his pants pressing

harder against the fabric as he realized he was pleasing Daddy with his

actions. His attention again turned to Daddy's wet, stiff member and the

tongue that was giving it a drenching. Every now and then, he could see

Daddy's smooth, heavy balls that were resting comfortably on the seat of the

chair, proud and glistening. He couldn't stop himself from imagining the

large load of cream they were holding and thought back to the first night

when Daddy had filled his mouth with it.

Sam was barely aware when the boy standing over him removed his shirt. But

he came to his senses when this boy brushed his face with his 5 1/2"

erection. That's when his view of Daddy's penis was obstructed and he

glanced up to see this other man up-close. Like Sam, this man's body was

finely tuned. He had muscular thighs, a flat, rippled belly and rounded

pectorals with tan-colored nipples that were erect and seemed to protrude a

bit more than you would expect from a man. He had well-defined arms and the

only hair present on his entire body was the short crop of brown hair atop

his head. And like Sam, his small testicles hung close to his body in a

hairless sack like two little marbles and his erection was strained to its

limits. His 5 1/2" stood straighter than Sam's, certainly an inch longer,

but compared to Daddy's pole, they were both just little boys.

It was like looking into a mirror watching this other man squat before him.

Sam offered up no resistance as the other boy fastened the wristbands to

his wrists and began putting Sam's leash and collar on, the one with the

gray "4 1/2" tag on it. The only thing about these other two boys that

struck him as different was the fact that they seemed so much more willing,

so much more eager than he was. At least, that's what he was thinking. They

seemed to be jutting their bare asses out as far as they could at each

opportunity to do so and their every movement seemed designed to communicate

their subservience to Daddy.

He didn't want these guys thinking that he was there of his own free will.

They had to at least understand that he was being blackmailed. They had to

at least understand that, if he had the choice, he wouldn't be there at all.

"I'm not gay," Sam suddenly whispered to the boy in front of him as the

collar was being tightened around his neck.

"We're not gay, either," the other boy whispered back as he continued to

fasten the collar. "None of Daddy's boys are gay. We were all just like you.

Daddy says that straight boys with little sticks make the best boys."

"Then you're being blackmailed, too?" Sam gasped.

"Daddy is just helping you find your place," the boy answered. "We all have

our place."

Unable to quite fathom what he was being told, Sam groped for a response

and couldn't find one. To think that all of these boys that Daddy had on a

leash were all like him seemed unthinkable. They all looked so gay to him,

so much more willing, as if the very thought of being controlled like a pet

turned them on. It had to be a lie, he thought: a deception, like Peter.

The boy finished securing Sam's collar and then went behind him and

removed Sam's shoes and socks. The next thing Sam knew, his right wrist

had been secured behind him to his right ankle band and the left wrist was

secured to the left ankle. Then the other boy crawled back around in front

of him and began to massage Sam's flexing pectorals and it all confused

Sam when he thought of another straight man doing this to him.

"Did you get your vacation time, as I instructed?" he heard Daddy ask.

Sam glanced away from the distraction of the hands caressing his chest and

his focus returned to Daddy's thick, wet staff towering up from the chair.

Again, he could hear the slick sounds of slurping and licking and sucking

echoing through his brain and the whispering voices were telling him to

please his Daddy.

"What?" Sam wondered in a fog. He felt a pinching and twisting on each of

his nipples but he couldn't take his eyes off the tongue that was stroking

Daddy's big candy stick.

Daddy only smiled at Sam's inability to focus and repeated the question so

that Sam could hear him plainly.

"Yes, Daddy," Sam finally responded. Yes, he had gotten the vacation time

as instructed. Today was Friday and he was not due back in the office, now,

until the following Monday. Daddy would have Sam all to himself for the

next week and Sam couldn't begin to imagine what that might mean. He only

knew that he would have to struggle to keep his senses about him and fight

as hard as he could against the desires that seemed to be slowly overrunning

his thoughts.

"Good boy," Daddy replied. Daddy then nodded his approval to the boy that

was stroking Sam's chest.

Sam felt two hands on his face and finally broke his stare on Daddy's

cock. He glanced down briefly to see that his nipples had become hard and

erect and then he looked up at the face of the other boy. Very slowly, the

other boy wet his tongue and drew his face closer at an angle, clearly

intending to kiss him. At first, Sam leaned away, but then he realized

there was only so much he could do to avoid it. His wrists were secure to

his ankles and he was on his knees, unable to escape.

And then Sam heard the voices again, whispering into his head to please

Daddy. He could hear the tongue wet against Daddy's cock and could hear

Daddy moaning his approval. Sam's heart began to beat faster and suddenly,

he found himself drawing near again. The two hands on his face reeled him in

and his mouth gave way as the other boy's eager tongue slid inside and met

his own.

With his eyes closed, Sam's mind began to fill with Daddy's music as the

other boy's tongue probed him and he responded in kind. He felt their bare

chests rubbing together as the other boy grew more and more passionate with

his kissing. Sam's sense of sexual identity again became lost in the fog

of physical sensation and his tiny erection strained against his pants with

the knowledge that he was entertaining Daddy.

Soon, he felt the other boy unbutton his pants and his two hands slid around

inside and began stroking the curves of his ass. On instinct, Sam tried to

reach his hands around to feel the other boy's ass, but his bounds left him

unable to do anything more than tug in vain. After several long minutes of

intense kissing, the other boy's tongue slid away from Sam's mouth and

left him gasping for air.

The other boy's tongue continued to press against Sam's hard body, snaking

its way down his neck and over his chest, stopping to curl around each erect

nipple before plunging down over his midsection and into his navel. Sam

watched helplessly, breathlessly, as the other boy slid his pants down to

his knees and let loose his pulsing little rocket. The other boy fondled

Sam's hairless sack and ran his wet tongue lightly over Sam's quivering

shaft, tickling and teasing the tip of his bobbing penis.

"Are Daddy's boys having a good time?" Daddy suddenly asked. The sound of

Daddy's voice again drew Sam's attention away, though his body still shook

and tingled at the fiery sensations running through it.

The 5 1/2" boy ran his tongue over Sam's small sack of balls and answered

obediently, "Yes, Daddy."

Sam trembled and began to stare at Daddy's own erection again and the

tongue that was worshipping it. He could hear the voices in his head telling

him he had to please Daddy, that he would only be happy if he was pleasing

Daddy. The whole room seemed to be filled with the sounds of wet tongues and

smacking noises and moist, slithering beats and he had become suddenly drunk

with the smell of hot, male sex all around him. Daddy's majestic penis

became Sam's focal point. He saw a pair of lips kiss the tender nub of

Daddy's glans and the tip of a tongue wiggled its way into Daddy's pee slit

and he began to imagine his own mouth doing those things for Daddy.

"Yes, Daddy," Sam also answered. His stare became fixed and his eyes grew

half shut, and even though he trembled in ecstasy when the mouth between his

own legs sucked his little rocket inside, he couldn't pull himself away from

the source of his envy and desire.

Pleased that his new boy was behaving properly, Daddy reached down to his

own, massive tool dripping in saliva and pushed it down so that it pointed

straight out in Sam's direction like a cannon preparing to shoot. The boy

who was on his knees licking Daddy's superior manhood paused momentarily to

kiss each of Daddy's resting balls and then glanced up to await further

instruction.

"You are not allowed to come until Daddy tells you to," Daddy explained to

Sam. "Do you understand, boy?"

Sam's head was pounding with the rhythms of Daddy's music and the mere

sound of Daddy's voice excited him. "Yes, Daddy," Sam replied. Sam had

the sudden urge to cum right at that moment. A strong, tingling sensation

ran between the crack of his ass and up into his groin. But he held on. He

held on knowing he had to please Daddy. He shook and shuddered and continued

to watch, all the while the 5 1/2" boy persisted in bathing Sam's own

little member with warm liquid.

Daddy then stroked the hair on the head of the boy between his legs and

rested the wet tip of his massive erection against the boy's smiling lips.

Those lips then parted and Daddy slowly slid his stiff meat into him. Sam

watched intently as Daddy's beautiful penis disappeared into this boy's

mouth, one wide inch at a time. The boy on his knees shuddered as he clawed

at Daddy's firm, hairy abdomen, as if begging for more, until Daddy's long

snake was completely lodged down inside his throat and the boy's nose was

pressed into Daddy's silky black curls.

Sam again felt strong, tingling sensations ripple through his body and he

wanted desperately to cum. The boy beneath him had the entire length of

Sam's little rocket inside his mouth and was running his tongue wildly

around the shaft, as if daring Sam to squirt his load.

Meanwhile, Daddy sat on the chair with his legs spread open and his hands

resting on his knees, watching the boy beneath him breathing in and out

through his nose while the long, fleshy hose remained lodged in his throat.

The boy was looking upwards towards Daddy and his eyes seemed desperate for

approval. Daddy could feel the boy massaging his long shaft with the

reflexive muscles in his throat and with the pressure of his tongue pinned

underneath. He liked the wet gooeyness that the tip of his penis felt while

poking deep down inside his boy and Daddy gave him a smile that made the boy

feel worthy.

Seeing his Daddy smiling down at him, the boy's plump ass jutted out a bit

further than it had been and his small erection bobbed between his legs like

a happy puppy. The contractions in his throat worked even harder to massage

Daddy's member and coax out the load of juices harboring just under his chin

in Daddy's dormant jewels - the reward that he had been working to obtain

for nearly an hour now.

And with all the pulsing sounds and rhythms racing through his mind and the

tongue massaging his own penis, Sam could only kneel helplessly where he

was and watch the other boy gorging on Daddy's member and feel a sudden

trace of... jealousy. Though he struggled constantly against these growing

urges, he found himself wanting to be the one between Daddy's legs. He

wanted to touch Daddy's long, silky manhood and hold it in his hands and

feel the weight of it on his lips and in his mouth. He wanted to suckle

Daddy's two enormous glands and milk the creamy white cum into his own mouth

like a hungry babe. He wanted to cry with frustration, unable to stop these

thoughts from invading his long-held belief that this was all wrong. But the

voices only grew stronger and the boy below him kept nibbling at the tip of

his penis and he longed to cum and hopefully release all of these feelings

at once.

"Please," Sam suddenly heard himself gasp as he arched his back painfully,

full of all the sounds and voices and erotic tingling sensations he could

take. "Please, Daddy! Let me cum!" And only then did he realize that he had

been longing to cum all day long. All day long, he had been listening to

those voices, those sounds. All day long he had fought against erection

after erection to no avail and he longed desperately for some release. He

wanted so badly to just cum. His mind and body were beyond ready, but to his

ultimate frustration, he found he couldn't do it. And somehow, he now knew

that he couldn't find that release until Daddy told him he could and it was

bringing him near to tears.

Daddy was hoping Sam would start begging. He had prepped Sam for this

all day. It was the first time Sam would have to ask another man's

permission before he could ejaculate. And Daddy knew that when he gave Sam

that permission, Sam would experience the most satisfying orgasm he had

ever felt in his life. And then Sam would want more. He would secretly

long for the next time Daddy gave him permission. He knew that Sam would

soon become very dependent on getting that permission, just like all of his

other boys had.

"First, tell Daddy the pin number for your bank card," Daddy said.

Sam was gasping, his back still arched, his eyes still staring longingly

at the blond head of the boy between Daddy's crotch and seeing that boy's

bare ass gyrate with the pleasure of Daddy's long cock down his throat. The

tongue on Sam's own little stick was circling the head of his penis

rapidly and all he kept saying was, "Please, Daddy! Please let me cum!"

"Tell me the number, boy," Daddy insisted. "If you want to make Daddy happy,

then you'll tell me the number. And then I will see about letting you cum."

The magnitude of what Daddy was asking for was not totally lost on Sam,

but he was in such a physical position and mental state that he would have

given just about anything to Daddy in order to cum. "Four," Sam gasped.

"Four - three - seven - two." Sam moaned and shuddered and repeated those

number once, then twice, then a third time, each time going faster until

Daddy thanked him for being such a good boy and told him to be silent.

As if that was enough to bring Daddy around, the boy between Daddy's legs

felt those large, silky jewels rising up beneath his chin and could feel the

growing shudder in his Daddy's thighs. He stroked Daddy's legs

affectionately and braced himself for what was about to happen.

Daddy took the head of the boy in his lap with both hands and held him in

place. The boy glanced upward and could see the muscles in Daddy's muscular

form begin to tense and Daddy gave him an approving nod. Then he felt

Daddy's jewels rise up further and press more tightly against his chin,

ready to make their final press and go into convulsive squeezes and he was

glad of the assistance his chin was able to provide.

As Sam watched in strained agony, the boy between Daddy's legs began to

shudder and he could tell that Daddy was pumping streams of delicious, hot

cum directly down his throat. Daddy's hairy chest heaved and flexed and his

tree-trunk legs swayed back and forth as each spasm hit him. It took several

minutes before the intensity of Daddy's orgasm ebbed and he was able to

relax himself a bit and stroke the blond hair of the obedient head in his

lap. Slowly, Daddy's long erection emerged from this boy's throat as if the

boy were orally giving birth to a large snake. When the head of Daddy's

serpent finally emerged, the boy suckled it like a pacifier and wagged his

ass happily back and forth.

"Daddy, please," Sam moaned. "Please..."

Satisfied with the way things had gone, Daddy reached down and grabbed the

silver chain hanging from the ass of the boy in his lap and gave it a slight

tug in appreciation. It was clearly attached to something securely inserted

into the boy's rectum and he instantly let out a groan of pleasure while

continuing to suckle Daddy's cock.

Almost absently, Daddy said, "Okay, boy. Cum for Daddy."

As if Daddy's mere words had a greater ability than the tongue circling his

penis to push him over the edge, Sam's back arched even further and he

momentarily lost his breath. His two bare marbles squeezed up into him

forcefully and his whole body went into a spasm that ended hours upon hours

of mental foreplay. His young, taut body pulsed and shuddered and he shot

squirt upon squirt of his boy juice into the mouth below him. And the mouth

around his erection quickly sucked it all down and teased his little rocket

for every drop it could manage to squeeze out.

For several minutes, Sam experienced one orgasmic wave after another, each

wave as intense as the other, and every muscle in his body quivered. The

cheeks of his ass were clamped tightly shut and Sam moaned and groaned and

squealed without regard for his neighbors hearing. By the time Sam's

orgasm finally subsided, there were tears in his eyes and no strength left

in his body. He felt a bit of vertigo and was having trouble maintaining his

balance. His mind and body was in total bliss and he was completely

oblivious to the way the boy below him kept sucking at his hairless genitals

long after he had spent his last drop of semen.

As Sam began to regain his senses, he saw the blond boy kneeling before

him and he saw the boy's gray, "5 1/2" tag on his collar. The 5 1/2" boy was

still lying down below, licking at Sam's now flaccid boy stick. And Daddy

was standing over them all with his wet, flaccid member dangling lazily for

Sam to gaze in awe at. But before Sam could even assess what was going

to happen next to him, the blond boy leaned in and slipped his tongue into

his mouth and Sam had no will to resist it.

Instantly, Sam could taste a wad of cream being smeared over his own

tongue and realized right away that some had been saved just for him. And

because he knew that it was Daddy's cum in his mouth, Sam felt an odd

sense of pleasure and gratitude that he could not resist. He couldn't help

but enjoy the taste of it as their tongues mingled together and shared in

the juices Daddy had provided them. He felt Daddy petting them both on the

head as they kissed and Sam could not fight back the growing sense of

satisfaction he felt for having pleased Daddy this way.

Several more minutes of passionate kissing had gone by before the other boy

pulled away and the boy below him let Sam's shrinking penis slip from his

lips. Then his wrists were released from his ankles and Daddy pulled up at

Sam's leash until Sam managed to wobble back up to his feet and stand

like a good little boy before his Daddy.

Daddy didn't just stand taller than him, now. To Sam, it seemed as though

Daddy towered over him like a giant. Sam's hairless body stood only inches

away from Daddy's powerful form. And even though Daddy's low-hanging balls

were shaved clean, he still sported a curly bush above his long shaft and

had a full chest of hair. Sam's own shriveled penis was down to just a

little nub resting atop his tight, bald sack. Standing next to Daddy as he

was, the difference in size and manhood was clear and without question.

Sam knew he would never be the man Daddy was. The voices whispering in his

head kept reminding him of this. And the sight of Daddy's full-sized member

next to his own tiny stub made it all the more clear.

He wanted to reach out and hold Daddy's superior tool in his hands and know

what it felt like. But Daddy instead pulled Sam close to him and wrapped

Sam's arms around his waist and patted Sam on the butt. Still in a haze

from his monstrous orgasm and quite exhausted, Sam gently rested his face

against Daddy's firm chest and offered no resistance to the demeaning

position he was in. He was Daddy's little boy.

"Did you like that, boy?" Daddy asked him gently.

Sam stared into Daddy's muscular chest and mumbled, "Yes, Daddy."

Daddy caressed Sam's firm ass, one hand on each cheek, and smiled down at

him. "You can't cum without Daddy's permission, now," he explained. "You

understand this, right?"

Sam could still hear the heavy breathing and the wet, sucking sounds in

his head and the voices whispered their approval. He was still having brief

shudders at just the thought of his first permitted orgasm under Daddy's

control. He glanced up briefly at Daddy before turning his eyes back down to

Daddy's chest like a humbled pet. "Yes, Daddy. I understand."

"Good boy," Daddy replied. He rested his hands on the cheeks of Sam's ass

and began spreading them open.

Wrapped firmly in Daddy's grip, Sam gasped as the first bit of air hit his

now exposed boy hole. But he knew there was nowhere to run, nothing he could

do. And after Daddy had been so gracious as to allow him the best orgasm in

his life, he felt it necessary to not interfere. Instead, he wrapped his

arms tight around Daddy's waist in gratitude and prepared himself to accept

whatever Daddy had planned.

Sam didn't have to wait long before he felt the wet tip of a tongue on his

tight, pink hole. Then he realized right away that both of Daddy's boys

behind him were flicking their wet tongues up the crack of his spread

cheeks.

"What are they doing, Daddy?" Sam whispered with a squirm.

"Getting you prepared for an outing," Daddy told him. Then Daddy pulled

Sam's cheeks apart even further and Sam gasped when something cold and

wet slipped its way into his shuddering, flexing orifice.

"Relax," Daddy told him. "Be a good boy and relax."

Sam's face pressed in harder to his Daddy's chest and his grip around

Daddy's waist grew tighter. He could feel at least four hands having their

way with his ass and the thing that was being inserted into him felt long

and thin, but also curved in places. When Daddy's fingers crept down into

his crack and pulled to help stretch his sphincter muscles open further,

Sam felt the object grow suddenly larger and stranger in shape, wider than

what he felt he could endure, and he could feel it being wedged into him at

different angles until at last, it slipped its way inside. Daddy rubbed at

his flexing cheeks until his tender boy ass had completely swallowed Daddy's

new toy. Sam could feel his own, long silver chain now dangling from ass,

just like the other two.

Daddy rubbed the small of Sam's back affectionately and occasionally gave

his ass a light pat just to see him tremble from the sensation. "How does

that feel?" Daddy asked him.

At first, Sam had no idea how to answer that question. He could feel the

object inside of him and he knew it would stay inside of him as long as it

pleased Daddy to have it there. But how did it feel? Then it suddenly hit

him. The voices in his head helped him find it. It was something Daddy

wanted him to have, therefore it must be pleasing to Daddy. And anything

pleasing to Daddy must be good.

"Good," he answered meekly. "It feels good, Daddy."

Daddy stroked his boy's blond hair and massaged his back with affection and

told him he was very pleased with that answer. And the idea of pleasing

Daddy brought a new erection to Sam's little stick, something Daddy felt

right away against his own skin and this further pleased him.

"Now it's time to get you dressed," Daddy told him. "Daddy wants to take his

boys out and show them a good time."

Part 9 of 11

By: Little Boi Blu

(m+ auth)

===========================================================================

Sam awoke from his sexual stupor the moment his apartment door was opened

and he was led out into the cool evening air. Leaving the safety of his own

confines, his heart began to race nervously as he followed behind Daddy and

his other two boys. They had washed him up and dressed him and now he was

being led out in public to places unknown and he was in a panic.

The worst thing about it was that Sam was helpless to resist what might

become of him. Daddy and his boys had dressed him in a pair of dark blue,

loose-fitting sweats, with no waistband, that would easily slide down to his

ankles with one tug of the string at his waist. And he was given no

underwear underneath to keep from being fully exposed should that string

become loosened.

The gray, hooded jacket he wore was a pullover that had the one large pocket

in the middle that you could put your hands all the way through. It was two

sizes too small for him and he had to push his hands down hard in the pocket

just to cover his navel with it. But pushing downwards only resulted in

tugging at the collar he was wearing, which was somehow attached to the

inner lining of the jacket. And it wasn't like his hands were free to do

anything else. Both of his hands were intertwined at the fingers and tied

together by a series of small ropes connected to his wristbands.

"Hurry up, boy!" Daddy commanded at a leisurely stroll. He turned to watch

Sam as he stumbled along at a slow, anxious shuffle.

"I'm trying," Sam whispered desperately as he glanced around the parking

lot under his hood to see who might be watching. Then he quickly corrected

himself as one of the other boys tugged on his leash. "I'm trying, Daddy."

He was so frightened and nervous that someone might see him or recognize him

that his eyes were a bit watered.

Just above his tennis shoes were his leather ankle bands, and those bands

were connected together by a short, clear fish line that was hardly

noticeable to the naked eye. He couldn't pull his feet more than half a foot

apart without stumbling and falling to the ground. The awkward shuffle from

his apartment door to Daddy's waiting van was a long one. Every step made

him feel as if the string holding his sweats up was loosening and that he

was teetering on the verge of either exposing himself in public or falling

down on his face, or both.

Again, the boy who was holding his leash tugged at him and almost caused

Sam to lose his balance. His vision blurred by the welling tears and the

cool evening air, Sam thought he felt the sweats slide down from his waist

ever so slightly when this happened and quickly shuffled to keep up.

When they finally reached Daddy's long, cherry red cargo van and Daddy

opened the back door, one of the boys pushed Sam up to the opening and he

could see inside that this was no ordinary vehicle. There were no windows

and the walls seemed to be padded and insulated for sound. You couldn't see

the front windshield or the driver's seat, which meant that there was a

solid divider between the front cab and the back. And even though it was

dark, Sam could make out some sort of leather swing apparatus dangling

from the ceiling and could tell that there were other devices connected to

the ceiling and the side walls and still more toys carefully placed in

various places. The floor was also padded and slick and he could instantly

smell the scent of sex creeping into his nostrils, the hypnotic scent that

briefly rubbed at his brain and flashed images of Daddy's magnificent flesh

pole glazed in saliva and drooling hot, white liquid.

Momentarily entranced, Sam's upper body was forced downward until his face

pressed against the slick, inside flooring of Daddy's van, leaving him bent

over with his ass hanging out of the van. Unable to move, Sam had no

choice other than to inhale the ghosts of cum stains on the floor and gasp

in frustration as Daddy pulled at the string around his waist and his bare,

round ass quickly became exposed to the parking lot of his apartment

complex.

The cool air raced between his legs as Sam squirmed in vain to get away

and his two little boy balls squeezed even tighter into their nervous sac.

As two hands pressed firmly into his upper back, holding him in place, Daddy

grabbed Sam's bare hips and tugged his ass out and upwards and ran his

hand over Sam's soft, supple cheeks and down between his legs. Then he

tugged gently at the silver chain dangling out of Sam's ass, the one

connected to the new toy lodged deeply in his boy, and delighted in how it

made his new boy's legs quiver and tremble in expectation.

"What are you doing?" Sam gasped in a panic. But there was no response

save the light, playful pat on his bare ass. Moments later, he heard a

slight snapping sound, which did not register in his mind as the sound of a

latex glove being put on until he felt that same, large hand rubbing a

creamy gel all over his tiny balls and shriveled, frightened penis.

The creamy substance was suddenly cold against his already tightened,

sensitive skin, but as Daddy massaged it in meticulously, Sam's little

stick began to respond. Once his little erection was firm, Sam began to

feel something different tingling between his legs. He felt as if his hard

little rocket was suddenly on fire. Not a hot, stinging fire, but a warmth

that seemed to wrap around the entirety of his little stick and was slowly

squeezing tighter and tighter. He also began to feel a numbing tightness

creeping over his little sac, as if each of his testicles were being

individually pinched all over.

Had they been in the safety and privacy of his own apartment, Sam probably

would have given in to the sensations Daddy was giving him and started

moaning and groaning with pleasure - left with no other choice, he would

presume. But out here in the cold, public parking lot, he just wanted it to

be over. He wanted to be able to break free and run back to his apartment

and close the door, lock it tight, and pretend that none of this had ever

happened, that he had never met this man he had to call "Daddy," that he had

never answered the door the day Peter posed as a pizza delivery boy and tied

him up for Daddy's pleasure. He wanted to be safe and sound in his

heterosexual world. He saw a pair of metal handcuffs gleaming out of the

corner of his eye, tucked away on the floor of Daddy's van, and he feared

what was next for him as Daddy's cold hand massaged the last of the cream

into every nook and cranny of his little, boyish tool.

As Daddy removed his hand from his boy's crotch, Sam could feel a

continued, tightening sensation racing over his erection and down through

his tiny jewels as if he had microscopic worms boring into his skin. It was

like the cream had soaked through completely and was eating away at him,

tickling him as it went. He wanted to reach down and scratch at it

desperately, but his hands were trapped, locked at his abdomen in the pocket

of his jacket, just out of reach.

"He has a beautiful ass," one of the other boys commented. Sam felt a hand

caressing his left cheek as he squirmed from the itching sensation he was

feeling. But that hand was very cautious not to go near Sam's crotch.

"Daddy only picks the best," Daddy replied as he gingerly removed his latex

glove and tossed it on the ground. He pulled Sam's sweats back up and tied

the waist string just enough to keep them there. Then he pat Sam's ass and

told his other boys to get him inside and comfortable.

Sam didn't want to go deeper into Daddy's van. He didn't want to get

trapped in a place that held these unknown devices and possible tortures for

him. He could smell the fog of forbidden sex all around him that, up until

now, had only been a distant fantasy, only an implied threat - nothing real.

But he didn't want to stay there with his bare ass hanging out for

passers-by to see - possibly people he knew. And the maddening sensation of

little worms crawling around under the skin of his penis and his balls was

growing stronger and it got to the point where he could barely think

straight enough to know what he wanted, except to get his hand free to rub

at it and scratch at it and make it go away.

Sam was seated on a small bench seat inside the van, strapped down between

the other two boys before he knew it. The back door had been shut, only able

to be opened from the outside, and there was only a dim glow of yellowish

light emanating from above that gave every one of Daddy's devices an ominous

look to them. Sam continued to squirm as he sat there, his erection still

pulsing and his scrotum tight like a vise on his little marbles.

"What did he put on me?" Sam gasped desperately as he could feel the van

pulling out of the parking lot.

"Don't worry," the boy with the "5 1/2" tag on his collar said. He reached

over and tugged at the string on Sam's sweats and the oversized waistline

easily gave way and drooped downwards, exposing the bare skin where Sam's

small patch of blond pubic hair used to be. "Daddy will explain it all to

you when it's time."

The other boy with the "5 1/2" tag on his collar pulled open the waistline

on Sam's gray sweat pants, exposing Sam's pulsing little rocket for all

of them to look down at. Sam glanced down at himself in shame and

embarrassment. Even though these other men were also small like he was, he

felt even smaller being on display like this, and the "4 1/2" tag on his own

collar was a constant reminder that he was, indeed, the smallest.

Sam expected to see his little member burning red with sores and his tiny

balls covered in flesh-eating maggots, but everything looked normal,

pathetically normal. In fact, the tightness in his skin down there made him

feel that it was worse than normal, that his little erection was

constricting, getting even tighter, smaller.

"Looks dry to me," one boy said to the other. Both boys examined Sam's

embarrassing erection carefully as Sam helplessly looked on, unable to

cover it back up. The soft, silky skin of Sam's penis did look dry and

free of any creamy substance, unlike what it felt.

"Daddy said it would all be absorbed in a matter of minutes," said the

other. They were looking at Sam's crotch like it was some sort of science

experiment.

"What the hell is it?" Sam growled, half in anger, half in frustration,

but fully concerned. "What did he do to me?" He squirmed to see how well he

could move in his seat - not well at all. He was securely strapped in. The

only thing his squirming did was free his erection to point straight up at

him, past the fabric that was holding it down slightly.

"Relax," the boy with the "5 1/2" tag told him. He put his hand on Sam's

chest and rubbed his healthy pectorals through the jacket until Sam calmed

down. "Daddy's only making things better for you. Daddy says the sensations

you're feeling will go away in the next few minutes and everything will be

fine."

"But what..." Sam started.

"My name is Ryan," the boy with the "5 1/2" tag told him. "I'm 20 years old.

And this is Devon." He motioned to the other boy with the "5 1/2" tag. "He's

19. What's your name?"

Surprised by the sudden change in subject, and also by the fact that he was

being given names and ages, Sam paused from his line of questioning,

though he still squirmed from the sensations creeping around under his silky

skin down below. "I'm uh... my name is Sam."

"How old are you?" the 19-year-old Devon asked.

Sam gazed down absently at his hard little penis, pointed straight up for

all to see in the middle of this odd conversation, and muttered in a bit of

shame, "I'm 23." The oldest among them, and also the smallest and most

exposed. "I didn't know we were allowed to use our names."

"Daddy permits it when he's not around," Ryan explained. "As long as you

abide by the rule of order."

Sam turned his gaze towards Ryan, who had absently slipped his hand under

Sam's jacket and was teasing his nipples to erection as he spoke. He could

just make out the number "5 1/2" on Ryan's collar tag under the dim glow of

yellow light. "What rule of order?" Sam asked him.

"It's like a chain of command," Ryan told him as he pinched at Sam's left

nipple. "Our size determines who is in charge. Right now, for instance, with

Daddy busy driving, I'm in charge back here. My penis is bigger than both of

yours."

"And if we don't obey Ryan," Devon added, "then he reports it to Daddy. And

then Daddy will punish us for being bad boys."

"Right now," Ryan said to Sam, "you're at the very bottom of the order.

You obey everyone."

"And not just everyone who's one of Daddy's boys," Devon added again. "He

means anyone with a bigger dick than you. You have to respect and obey

anyone you know who's bigger."

Sam tried to shake Ryan's probing fingers from his chest to no avail. And

now Devon was beginning to rub Sam's inner thighs through the fabric of

his loosened sweats, still careful not to go too near to Sam's exposed boy

stick. "I'm not a part of any order," Sam protested. "I'm not one of

Daddy's boys... I'm being blackmailed. I'm being forced to do this. I don't

have any choice... I'm NOT gay, dammit."

"I told you," Ryan said. "None of Daddy's boys are gay. We were just like

you. Tiny, little, embarrassing pricks... always fantasizing about being

bigger. Once you realize you can't get any bigger than you are, your

fantasies about fucking girls start to become fantasizes about other, bigger

men fucking those girls for you. Then you realize that you can't get

yourself off unless there's a guy with a big dick in all of your fantasies.

First, you fantasize about him fucking the girl you like while they're both

laughing at you for being too small to do the job yourself. Then you start

fantasizing about him lording it over you, wanting you to do favors for him

and his big, thick monster while the girl watches you humiliate yourself.

Soon, the girl disappears entirely and all you can think about is being

around someone else who's bigger, someone in control who has a big, thick,

meaty penis for you to play with."

Sam's erection had begun to ebb away as the creepy sensations inside of it

dissipated, but as soon as Ryan started talking about big cocks, Sam's

little rocket again took shape and was pointing straight up.

"First, you think it's just envy," Ryan continued. "But then you start to

realize that it's desire and you try to run from it. But you can't. You find

yourself staring at the bulges in other men's jeans and you start going to

the gym not to work out, but to see other men naked in the shower and steal

glances at their superior tools. And you want to reach out and touch them

all and feel them growing in your hands... and then you suddenly want to

taste them on your lips and rub them between your legs and simply worship

them for their undeniable beauty. You get tired of just fantasizing about

it. You want it for real."

Sam's little penis was now bobbing and pulsing to Ryan's words even as he

tried to look defiant against all that he was saying. But Ryan was also

fondling his erect nipples as he spoke and the younger boy, Devon, was

snaking his hand under his sweats and caressing the sides of his smooth ass.

And through the hidden speakers of Daddy's van, more of the heavy breathing

and sounds of wet slurping began pulsing effortlessly through his senses.

"Daddy just wants you to be happy," Devon whispered to him. "He's just

giving you what you've always wanted, what you've always needed."

"It's just like having a craving for your favorite foods," Ryan said. "It's

not about being gay or not. It's just about accepting your desires and

knowing your place. We have a craving for bigger cocks because we know that

bigger is better... and so we need to be respectful of those who are bigger

than us and service their needs... because they're better than us and we

need them to satisfy our desires."

"Daddy knows that he has what we want," Devon said. "He gives us everything

we need, so we have to be good little boys and obey, otherwise, we'd just be

stuck like you were, pretending to be bigger than we are and always jerking

off in the dark over what we were afraid to reach out for."

Sam was gasping for air at this point. His nipples were both solid and

Ryan only needed to touch each of them lightly to send chills down his

spine. Devon was running his hand up the small of his bare back and down

over his haunches in circular motions and the sounds filling the air from

the van's speakers were bringing to mind images of Daddy's long, thick penis

glazed in slimy juices. Everything Ryan and Devon were saying was ringing

true, though Sam desperately wanted to believe it wasn't.

"We're not man enough to be anything but Daddy's little boys," Ryan said as

he slipped his hand from Sam's jacket. He turned Sam's face squarely

towards his and smiled. "And we're not gay," he stated matter-of-factly.

"That's how Daddy controls us. He understands our fears and gives us what we

want."

Devon snaked his arm under Sam's jacket around his waist and drew closer.

"Daddy makes us free to do what we want," Devon explained, "by taking away

our control."

"Daddy wanted us to make sure and explain all of this to you," Ryan said as

he looked Sam right in the eyes. "At some point, you will be given a

choice as to whether you want to remain one of Daddy's boys or go back to

the life you were living. And if you choose to go back, then he'll let you.

And you'll never see or hear from him again. But first, he wants to train

you... test you... let you see who you really are."

"He's going to let me go?" Sam asked blankly, lost in a fog. Images of

Daddy's fleshy snake were running through his head, now, and his own little

penis was aching and stiff and desperate to be touched.

"He's going to give you a choice," Ryan corrected, smiling at Sam's

noticeably confused state of mind. "You can control your own life and be

trapped. Or you can let Daddy control your life and you'll be free. But for

now... just understand that I'm not gay... and Devon's not gay... and Daddy

wants us to kiss you until we get to our destination."

And with that, Ryan drew Sam's face towards his and closed his eyes and

slipped his tongue into Sam's gaping mouth. At first, Sam's eyes were

wide open and he tried to pull away. But he didn't try all that hard and

soon his eyes were closed and his tongue met Ryan's and together, they

probed each other's mouths like two wild teenagers discovering sex for the

first time.

After awhile, Ryan slipped out of Sam's mouth and turned him towards

Devon, who entered Sam's mouth just as quickly, and together, they traded

Sam off as if playing table tennis with him. At times, they would both get

near his face and the three tongues would come together briefly. And all the

while, Daddy's pulsating, gasping music breathed louder and more intense

through the stereo speakers, complete with those distant voices, and Sam

was completely lost from himself and where he was or what he was doing. The

thought of pleasing Daddy took hold.

As the van drove on and the kissing continued, Sam became reminded of the

sliver cord protruding from his sphincter and lying silently between the

crack of his cheeks. He suddenly felt something new inside of him, like a

long, thin snake had suddenly emerged in his bowels and had started

slithering around blindly. The toy that Daddy had inserted in his ass had

come alive and the larger part of it lodged in his rectum was now churning

and massaging sensitive areas in his body that sent spasmodic tingles

through his very being. The sliver tail moved back and forth as part of the

rhythm, teasing and shocking the sphincter muscles of Sam's tight little

button.

The other two boys were experiencing the same thing as they kept trading off

Sam between them and they all three began to moan and groan and kiss more

passionately. With his hands locked inside the pocket of his jacket, Sam

wished desperately that one of the other boys would grab his exposed

erection and rub it furiously. He wanted so badly to cum... to shoot his

tiny little rocket straight up in the air over and over again. Yet even at

the brink of orgasm, he couldn't quite seem to get past a certain barrier

that would allow him to squirt his boy juice the way his body craved.

Both Ryan and Devon were going through the same dilemma, though they were

used to it. Daddy had not given them permission to cum. This thought entered

Sam's mind, also, but he didn't know how it was possible not to cum with

this new toy exciting every pleasure center in his body without mercy.

So the three of them sat and squirmed and kissed like puppies in heat the

entire length of the ride, each gasping for air, gasping for mercy, pleasing

Daddy, who could hear the whole thing through hidden microphones and see the

whole thing through hidden cameras. Daddy drove on, pleased and in control,

anxious to arrive at their first destination... and the first of two

surprises he had in store for Sam this evening.

Choices

Part 10 of 11

By: Little Boi Blu

(m+ auth)

===========================================================================

The Kitty Hawk is an exclusive club on the outskirts of town that was originally constructed under the guise of being a small supermarket to accommodate the nearby college campus. However, once the structure's skeleton was complete and the walls went up, the supposed investors pulled out, allowing the true owners to developed it as they originally had planned. Issues of zoning and other public relations nightmares were easily done away with by members of the city council, who had prior commitments to their public images and their families and didn't want their deepest and darkest secrets revealed.

Named after the aircraft carrier, the Kitty Hawk is a three-tiered building that caters to the dungeon desires of men. But unlike most gay clubs specializing in bondage, the Kitty Hawk is unique in that most of its chattel consists of straight men, controlled by men of other persuasions. The Kitty Hawk is a place devoted to the subjugation of the professed straight, without apology.

The first level of the building takes up half a city block and is decked out with bright blue, white, purple and red neon lights that help its outer fa�ade take the form of a navy ship. Being in a college community, several little shops and bookstores had sprouted up around it, making it look more like the college hot spot for hanging out rather than a gay bondage Mecca.

And inside the first level, to the naked eye, it appeared to be just that � a college hangout. It has a restaurant atmosphere, with booths and tables and a dance floor and music. But if you take a closer look, you can see that most of the patrons are young men, some sitting with older men who seemed to be taking care of them in many ways. The waiters who serve the tables are always young and taut, dressed in old-fashioned, white sailor suits with the button-flapped fronts that look so inviting. They walk straight and pleasant and welcome the occasional grabbing of their soft, rounded buns that cling to their uniforms with their tantalizing curves. And there are a few waitresses present who have voluptuous curves and wear tight-fitting nurses uniforms with skirts that can barely hide the fact that they wear nothing underneath. They're there to tease the invited straight boys who visit on a whim, to keep them from leaving too soon, before they have the chance to discover their hidden desires.

The restroom area on the first level is almost as large and open as the dining area, entered through a small walkway portal just to the right of the kitchen doors. It's one spacious room with unique urinals and open stalls and other devices that cater to purging and displaying the male body. There is no separate restroom for women in the Kitty Hawk. It's just the one, open to all. Women are a rarity, anyway, and the ones who go there generally know what to expect and enjoy watching.

There is one enclosed stall in the restroom, however, that serves as a gateway to the second level. But like the front door of the first level of the Kitty Hawk, access is restricted to members only. You have to be a member � or have a pass from a member � to get in. And men who are given a pass to the front door don't always wind up down at the second level on purpose. Sometimes, it's simply their curiosity that gets the better of them. But either way, once they get into the second level, they don't emerge the same person.

The second level of the Kitty Hawk is even more spacious than the first, and much darker, more complex, designed after the upper level was built. Gaining admittance to the second level requires you to give up your right to return to the surface until given permission to do so. It also requires sacrificing any personal artifacts you may have, including your clothes.

In many ways, the second level of the Kitty Hawk is just a weigh station � a pause in preparation for a descent to the third level, a deep, expansive underground maze where most straight boys are taken to truly discover the pleasures that they had since been denying themselves. It's where straight boys go to "get bent," some like to say, bent down to their knees in a new respect.

Entrance to the third level of the Kitty Hawk, referred to as "Shaft Alley," can only be gained via the second level. There is no outside way to reach it. But the second level has two entrances. One is the enclosed stall in the restroom of the first level, already mentioned. The second was the one Daddy was taking with his boys.

With the van parked in a secluded underground parking lot one block away, Daddy led all three of his boys by their leashes through an underground tunnel that ended at a large, black wooden door labeled "Bilge." Sam's loosely fitting sweats were again up around his waist and his hood was up over his head and all he could see was what was up in front of him � a few dim lights overhead, the back of Daddy's leather jacket and tight blue jeans, and this big, heavy door they were slowly approaching. The tunnel was wet and cold and the metal planks under their feet clanked as they walked.

"I don't want to do this," Sam whispered nervously to the boy walking next to him. He was again wishing he were safe and sound in the comfort of his warm, private apartment. Daddy tugged on his leash when he spoke and Sam stutter-stepped to keep up, barely able to move his feet, still tied close together at the ankles by the fishing line.

"We do what Daddy wants," Ryan whispered back. "We want to please him."

Taking little gasps of air, visibly nervous about this unknown place he was being led into, Sam glanced down as he stumbled and noticed that Ryan's 5-1/2-inch erection was poking at the fabric of his sweats as he walked. He turned his head and saw that Devon's 5-1/2-inch erection also seemed to be poking around. They didn't seem to be under the effect of the toys lodged up their asses, either. Sam then felt his own little member growing against his fear and his penis felt tight enough to be fully erect, even though it wasn't, as if his penis had run out of skin before it could finish growing.

With a final tug of Sam's leash, they all reached the big, wooden door and Sam was surprised to see a very modern piece of scanning equipment nestled nearby. Daddy pulled a card out of his jacket and swiped it through the scanner and then gave the door a push.

Sam felt as though he were walking into the locker room at the gym. The floor was clean and tiled and there were rows upon rows of lockers shadowing the benches in front of them. But in this locker room, there appeared to be no showers or sinks or mirrors or urinals, just benches to sit down on and a row of cold, shiny metal tables near a wall that reminded him of the veterinarian's office he used to take his dog to when he was a kid.

"This way, boys," Daddy told them as he pulled them over to a row of lockers. Once the three of them had lined up properly in front of one of the benches, Daddy told Sam to sit down and be a good little boy.

Unsure what awaited him next, Sam sat down slowly, careful not to fall over and cautious of the silver tail protruding from his tender hole. Daddy then reached over and removed Sam's hood and told him to be still and watch.

Daddy opened a locker door and told the other two boys to remove their shoes and socks and place them in the locker. Next, Daddy pulled off each of the two jackets and stuffed them in the open locker. Finally, he pulled at the strings on each of their waists and watched as the sweats they were wearing slid down effortlessly to their ankles.

"Look at these two boys," Daddy told Sam. Daddy pinched Ryan's erection with one hand and pinched Devon's erection with the other as the two boys stood motionless, watching their members pulse at Daddy's demeaning touch. "Two little straight boys who can't wait to do the bidding of big, Gay cocks � can't wait to get on their knees and beg for it."

Daddy playfully slapped at the two erections he was pinching and chuckled as he watched them bob up and down before shuddering back to full salutes. The two boys obediently stepped out of their sweats and watched as Daddy tucked the remainder of their clothing into the locker and shut the door. They both stood there naked, wearing nothing but their wristbands, their ankle bands and their collars with their tags on them, leather leashes still attached. Their tiny silver tails dangled silently between the cracks of their plump cheeks and they seemed like two submissive puppies waiting to be punished.

Sam watched all of this, fully aware that his own little erection was now firm and feeling tighter than it had ever felt before, and he knew Daddy could tell. Even though his hard-on was pointing straight up under his sweats and making only the slightest dent in the fabric, he knew Daddy could see his hidden excitement. He knew Daddy was making him excited, controlling him this way. And with the two firm, hard, muscular bodies before him, each with curves to rival most women, Sam couldn't stop stealing glances of Daddy's bulging crotch, stretching the limits of its buttoned fly.

Daddy pulled his two disrobed boys aside and tugged Sam to his feet. Slapping alternately at each bare ass before him, Daddy prodded Ryan and Devon forward to a small booth at the far end of the room, furthest from the entrance. Sam stutter-stepped behind them, pulled again by his leash, silent in his fear of the unknown.

"Early, tonight, sir?" a respectful voice said from inside the booth.

"Other plans," Daddy told him. "Awfully quiet around here."

"Not for long," said the voice. "Master Parker gave passes to a whole sorority of jocks after last night's game. Rumor has it that they're actually gonna come in tonight."

"He'll be lucky if he gets one down this way," Daddy laughed.

"Mostly football players," the voice added anxiously. "Gonna come in here all tough and show us how straight they are. Some of the others have put their weekend plans on hold to help out... just in case."

"Tell them to go for the small ones," Daddy said with a smile. He slapped Ryan loudly on the butt and asked, "Isn't that right, boy? Small like you?"

Ryan stared down at his erection and humbly replied, "Yes, Daddy."

Daddy slapped Devon on the ass, as well, and Devon replied automatically, "Yes, Daddy," in the same manner.

Sam saw the man in the booth lean out a bit to look over the two naked men in front of him. The man in the booth looked to be in his mid-thirties, with slicked back hair and round spectacles and a wry, teasing grin that seemed to indicate that he delighted in his job there.

"Your boys are always the most well behaved, sir," the man in the booth commented as he took in the beauty of the male flesh on display for his study. "And the most pleasant to look at and touch."

"You already have these two on register," Daddy told him.

"Yes, yes..." the man replied as he slunk back into his booth and rummaged through his files. "They're clean. What about that third one, there?"

"He's clean," Daddy said matter-of-factly, "but he's not ready yet." Sam stared down at his feet nervously as Daddy looked him over like a piece of prized property. "When he is ready, though..." Daddy placed his hand on Sam's face and lifted his chin up. Sam's eyes shot up to Daddy's for a moment and then shied away. "He'll be the prize of my collection."

"So just these two?" the man asked.

"I'm loaning them to Master Grace for the weekend," Daddy informed him. And then more quietly, as he continued to stroke Sam's face and delighted at how his new boy couldn't seem to make eye contact with him, Daddy whispered to Sam, "Master Grace is a good friend of mine � a tall, muscular black man with a long, thick black hose between his legs and a penchant for putting poor little white boys in their place."

Sam's eyes flickered upwards for a brief moment at this, hidden behind the blond strands of hair that fell over his brow, unable to remove his hands from his jacket to push Daddy away from coddling his face. And his erection pulsed at the thought of the big, black hose of this Master Grace.

"Master Grace isn't here yet," the man in the booth said. "But I'll take them down to the briefing room and get them strapped in."

Daddy let Sam's face slide from his hand as he glanced downwards to grin at the tiny bump in his boy's oversized sweats, the bump that told him his little boy toy was responding perfectly. "Here," Daddy said as he rummaged through his pocket. He pulled out two key rings with small devices on them, what looked like keyless entry systems for cars, and pushed a red button on each of them.

Instantly, Ryan and Devon began to gasp and moan and Sam could see that the silver tails that were once silently dangling out of their cracks were now slithering back and forth and up and down, teasing the sphincter muscles of their sensitive holes. Sam knew that they must also have been feeling the constant massaging of critical areas within their rectums and that they could feel the slithering snake creeping around deep inside of them. Their two erections bobbed wildly and each of them began to shudder and cry out, "Oh, Daddy! Daddy, please!"

"Not now, boys," Daddy smiled. "You'll need to wait until Master Grace tells you."

Sam's eyes widened as he watched them, somewhat grateful that Daddy hadn't pushed his button, as well. The insides of his sweats were already smeared with the wet frustrations of pre-cum, a reminder of the painful inability to cum when his body had begged him without mercy back in the van. And here were these two men... these two, straight men, begging another man to let them cum right there in front of them like that.

As Daddy handed the two key chains to the man in the booth, Ryan and Devon squirmed desperately until each fell to his knees and their hands slapped flat against the tiled floor. Each boy began to raise his ass higher in the air as those silvery tails wagged about in any direction they pleased and Sam could see their backs arching and their legs shuddering and their taut muscles flexing like bitch dogs in heat, desperately waiting for some big stud to tube their jutting rears.

"Now thank your Daddy for making you wait," Daddy ordered.

Ryan was the first to gasp, "Thank you, Daddy. Thank you for making us wait like good little boys." His face was nearly to the ground and he could barely think straight, but he wanted to please Daddy. He desired to please him, longed for the time when he could again hold and touch and taste and worship his Daddy's thick, silky pole.

"Thank you SO much, Daddy," Devon moaned in sincerity. "I want to cum SO bad, but thank you for making us wait."

As they both squirmed and flexed down on the floor, down on their hands and knees with their asses bucking up towards their Daddy, silver tails wagging, the doorway to the inner chambers of the second level of the Kitty Hawk opened and the man who had been in the booth stepped out and grabbed the two leather leashes.

All at once, the scent hit Sam as if that inner door had been Daddy's pee slit and it had just started gushing hot, white liquid all over his face. The inner chambers let out the strong, aromatic scent of male sex, as if the very air had been awash in the salty, creamy spunk of young men. He breathed it in and squinted into the darkness beyond, piqued with curiosity, despite his fear. He suddenly wanted to be down on the floor with the other two boys, waving his bare ass in the air and wondering about the big, black hose of Master Grace. And then there was Daddy's bulge, just out of reach... and Peter's long, curved beauty... and the outline of Colby's flaccid member... his mind grew numb with the scent of it all and the two boys squirming naked on the floor thanking their Daddy.

"Tell Master Grace he can remove those things at his leisure," Daddy instructed the man at the door. "And he can page me on Sunday when he's through with them."

"Yes sir," the man replied. He tugged at the two leashes in his hand as he glanced down at the helpless, squirming boy flesh beneath him. Ryan and Devon began crawling on their hands and knees, asses still waving and bucking in the air, and they followed the man all the way inside like that and Sam watched as the door shut behind them.

Sam's mind was still lost in the foggy aroma of warm semen and sweating youth and those round, swaying boy butts when Daddy tugged at his leash and ordered him back towards the big, wooden door. Sam turned and lost his balance and fell down on his side. Daddy watched his boy wiggle like a worm on a hook for a few minutes before lifting him back up on his feet. When he did this, Sam felt the air over his naked lower half and realized his sweats and come down to his ankles during his time on the floor.

"Please," Sam pleaded softly as Daddy tugged his leash again, causing him to shuffle towards the door. "Please, Daddy. Please pull my pants up."

"I could just take them off you for the rest of the night," Daddy replied blankly, not bothering to look back to see his boy's bobbing little rocket slapping from one leg to the other as he shuffled along behind. "Aren't you glad I haven't done that?"

Sam continued to shuffle along, his tiny penis slapping at his legs and the silvery tail slapping at his ass cheeks, and he knew enough not to push his luck. "Yes, Daddy," he sighed. "I'm glad."

Out past the wooden door and back into the dimly lit tunnel that led to the underground parking lot, Daddy paused and checked his watch. "Come to think of it..." he mumbled to himself. Then Daddy turned around and hooked the end of Sam's leash to a metal pipe that ran above them at the top of the tunnel.

"What are you doing?" Sam gasped suddenly, not liking the thought of his leash strung up like that.

Daddy ignored his question and pulled out another latex glove from his jacket and slowly fitted it onto his right hand. Then he knelt down in front of Sam and began poking and prodding and pinching his boy's penis and his balls like some doctor in examination, but only with the gloved hand.

"I mean..." Sam started again, this time more carefully, more politely. "I mean, Daddy, please... could you tell me what you're doing? Please... sir?"

Still not responding, Daddy pulled another key chain from his pocket. Before Sam could catch his breath, he felt the snake slithering up inside of him again. That, along with the churning in his rectum and the silver cord poking around his sphincter muscles sent fiery tingles throughout his whole body. His erection tensed as tightly as it could, almost as if it was going to pop out of its silky skin, and his whole body squirmed and Sam strained to control himself, to not fall to the ground the way the other two boys had done, not with his leash laced to the roof of the tunnel the way it was. But he did find himself jutting his ass out behind him as much as he could, as if somehow it could make the tickling sensation lessen, somewhat, but instead, it only made it worse and he was dying to be able to reach behind and scratch at it, rub at it... and he ached to cum, regardless of the circumstances.

Daddy was all business-like, though, despite the way his boy squirmed about. He pinched at Sam's erection again with his gloved hand and voiced his approval. "There, that's better."

"Daddy..." Sam gasped, his eyes rolling in his head as he spoke. "Daddy..." But he couldn't get any of the words out.

Daddy took a small jar of clear cream out of his pocket, undid the top, and carefully scooped out a mound of it into his gloved hand. Sam was unaware of all this until he felt the cold, creamy substance being rubbed into his pulsing erection. He glanced down to see Daddy massaging it in meticulously, stroking it into his boy's silky pink skin, making sure he covered every little bit with generous portions.

"Daddy," Sam wheezed, barely able to compose himself to speak with all the erotic sensations he was going through. "Daddy, what is it? What are you doing to me?"

Sam could feel the cream again soaking deep into his skin, invading every porous fiber of his poor little penis like a hoard of angry, devouring worms. And then Daddy covered his bare little scrotum with still more cream and massaged his balls in the gooey substance until they, too, felt under attack by hungry little maggots boring into his glands. In an odd reflex, Sam began bending his knees outward, away from each other, as if trying to air out the sudden burning sensations in his crotch.

Once Daddy had succeeded in applying the cream thoroughly to his boy, he put the cap back on the jar, carefully removed the glove and tossed it aside, and then knelt down again for a few moments to watch the glaze on Sam's genitals soak in. After he was satisfied that it was all completely absorbed, Daddy pulled out the key chain and shut off the toy, leaving Sam gasping for breath with tears of frustration running down his cheeks.

"Here," Daddy said. He reached down and pulled the sweats back up to Sam's waist and tied the string a bit tighter. "I'll put these back on you now. Is that better?"

Sam sniffed and his eyes fluttered and his knees wobbled as he tried to regain a straight posture, though the burning, itching, tightening sensations continued to crawl around inside his groin area. "Yes," he said, nearly crying. "Yes," he sniffed. "Thank you, Daddy."

He didn't know what it was, or what it was doing to him, and it was clear that asking about it wasn't going to get him any closer to an answer. He didn't know why he was here or what Daddy had planned for him. All he knew was that his hands and legs were bound and that he was at the mercy of this man's whims. The only thing he could do was follow... follow and obey. He at least didn't fall victim to the second level of the Kitty Hawk, therefore avoiding the third level, of which he had no knowledge anyway.

He absently wondered if, perhaps, that was all for him that evening. Maybe Daddy was just giving him a glimpse of this other world, that he would now just put him back in the van and drive him back to his apartment and make him suck his monstrous dick. Yes, Sam wished it would be like that. Maybe Daddy would even let him hold it in his hands, grip it for the first time and really feel it, play with it. Wouldn't that please Daddy?

And as they reached the parking lot, Sam also thought about what Ryan had said, that at some point Daddy would actually give him the choice of getting out, maybe return all of those videos, allow him to be completely free of all of this. And he thought that if he could just hang on, just play along and endure whatever came his way then maybe he'd survive it and get his normal life back. Maybe he could someday look back on this as merely a fling... an experimental time in his life, something that only a handful of strangers would know about, secrets that he would take to his grave.

That notion buoyed him momentarily, reminded him of what he kept professing over and over again, despite his hidden desires: that he was not gay; that what he was doing, he was being forced to do, tricked into liking.

But then Daddy led him past his cherry red van and up a flight of stairs to the bustle of the main street, out into the open public of the weekend college crowd and into the front door of the Kitty Hawk.