Keith's Visit, Part 1

Keith's Visit

      It had been a long week.  Each day seemed more tedious than the last

at my job as a computer support technician.  For every problem I solved,

ten more were waiting for me.  I was ready for a break and was looking

forward to the long Memorial Day weekend - especially since my roommate

from college was moving back into town and I had agreed to put him up for a

while until he could find an apartment.  We had graduated only three years

ago and I had done well for myself.  Using some money my parents had given

me, I had found a pretty nice house on the outskirts of town.  But I was

still not happy - I hated living alone.  All I ever seemed to do was get

up, go to work, drive home, work out, watch some television, jerk off, and

go to bed.  It was time for a change and I knew it.  I was looking forward

to Keith coming back to town.  Maybe my life could once again include some

fun.

      And Keith knew how to have fun.  Maybe that's why he was moving back.

A mutual friend had told me that Keith was moving back because he had been

fired from his job.  He had always been a pothead; actually, we both were

in college, but I wasn't the type of person who went out to find a supply.

I would smoke when it was available, but when I ran out, that was it until

I was fortunate enough to get hooked up again.  Keith, on the other hand,

always seemed to have an ample stash.  In fact, I think we were both pretty

much constantly stoned during our Junior and Senior years.  We were very

much alike and had been best friends and roommates.  Our other friends even

joked that we started to look like each other after a while.  We were both

around 5'8", though he was about ten pounds heavier than my 150 pound

frame.  I was never able to put on muscle that way he could.  We were both

dark headed and though my hair was lighter than his, we both kept it in a buzz

cut because it was so much easier to roll out of bed in the morning and not

have to take care of it.  I had not seen him in over two years and was

wondering what he looked like now and if he had changed much - I hoped not.

I really needed to have a good time this weekend.

      I took the afternoon off on Friday to go home early and work out.

Looking back on it, I don't really know why that was so important to me -

for him to see me looking my best.  I guess it was because he was more

built than I would ever be, or maybe I didn't want him to think that my job

had completely sucked the life out of me.  I stripped down in front of the

mirror and took in my own body, picking out the parts I liked and the areas

I still needed to work on.  My legs were coming along nicely, but they were

still runner's legs, defined but not cut.  My chest and arms were also

gaining more definition but I realized that they would never be as nice as

Keith's.  My abs were nice though.  I had never had a problem with extra

weight and since I had been working so hard the muscles really stood out.

I nodded in approval as I threw on my onionskin shorts and wandered into my

weight room.  An hour later as I had just finished my last set, the

doorbell rang.  Glancing up at the clock, I saw that it was only 4:00 PM.

Keith wasn't due here until after six, but as I peeked through the blinds I

saw the cab waiting in my drive and Keith standing on the porch.  I ran

down the hall and opened the door.

      "Sam!  Damn man, I must have interrupted something", he said, as he

looked me up and down.  I was still sweating like crazy and the shorts were

clinging to me like a second skin.  I looked down and saw that my cock was

clearly visible through the thin, wet material.

      "SHIT!  Sorry about that.  I wasn't expecting you this early and was

trying to fit a workout into my schedule."  He wasn't listening though.  As

soon as I started to speak, he turned and waved to the cab driver that it

was ok to leave.  Apparently, he wasn't sure I'd be home yet and didn't

want to be stuck waiting on my front porch if I was still at work.  He

turned to me again and I regained enough composure to actually look at him.

His hair was cut as short as I had ever seen it - almost bald actually with

only a thin layer of blonde fuzz covering his head.  He was wearing only a

tank top and some cut-offs and his feet were covered with a pair of worn

sandals.  He was still in great shape.  It made me jealous that even after

just working out, my body didn't look as good as his after a plane and cab

ride over here.

      "Don't worry about it.  Glad to see you still work out.  Been a long

time, man.  Looking forward to having some fun this weekend."

      I invited him inside and noticed his smell when he bent over to pick

up his bags.  I knew it was hot today and he had been traveling, but it

smelled like he hadn't showered in days.  Of course, I couldn't really talk

- the work out had built up a pretty ripe funk on me as well.  It was so

nice to see him again that I quickly forgot about my earlier embarrassment

and sat down with him in the living room to catch up.  He told me about

losing his job to random drug testing and how he had not been able to find

another quickly enough to keep his apartment.  I interrupted him briefly

and asked if he wanted a beer.

      "Hell, yes!  Been a long damn day."

      When I returned with the beers, I noticed that Keith had his arms up

over the back of the sofa and had slipped off his sandals.  Sitting back in

my chair across from him, I was already feeling better about life.  This

was nice - sitting back, having a beer with a bud, talking about life and

just being really comfortable with one another.  It was just like back in

college.  Neither of us cared that we smelled bad or that I was sitting

there in thin shorts that were only now starting to dry.

      "So you were saying you got busted?"

      "Not by the law or anything...just lost my job.  You know I could

never turn down weed."  I laughed out loud.  Boy, did I remember.

      "Yeah.  I don't think I've had any since graduation.  My life really

got boring after college."

      "Looks like you are doing ok.  I mean the house is nice."

      "Yeah?  Let me show you around."  We stood up with our beers and I

adjusted my shorts so that my cock wasn't quite as visible and led him

around the house and out onto the deck.  "It's a pretty cool place to live.

I had to get a place out here in the woods because I couldn't afford

anything closer to the city.  The nearest neighbor is almost a mile away.

There is a lake down that path in the woods and it is quiet out

here...sometimes too damn quiet."

      We both sat on the deck chairs and talked some more until he

mentioned that he was hungry.  I offered to order a pizza and he teased me,

"You mean they deliver out here in hillbilly country?"  I laughed with him,

knowing it was just a joke and glad to have the company to laugh with.  We

went back inside and I made the call while he started rummaging through his

bags.  When I was done, he stood up and looked at me.

      "All the clothes in my bags are dirty.  I've been on the road a while

now.  Do you have a washer and dryer?"

      "Yeah, down the hall, last door on the left.  Do you need something

to wear?"

      "Nah, that's ok...I've got one clean pair of boxers left."  I watched

him as he walked barefoot down my hallway, smelling the sweat he left in

his wake.  Part of me wanted to suggest that he take a shower, but then

again, I was enjoying feeling like we were in college again.  We used to

hang out in our underwear all the time and since we had been workout

partners, it wasn't like we hadn't smelled each other before when we were a

bit past ripe.  Besides, if I suggested he clean up, I would probably have

to take a shower too and I was enjoying feeling carefree like this.  It was

a welcome change from always having to be perfectly clean for work.

      Minutes later, I heard the washing machine kick on and saw Keith

emerge from the laundry room.  He was wearing plain white boxers but it

wasn't until he stepped back into the light of the living room that I

noticed how old and threadbare they were.  He plopped back on the sofa and

asked if he could have another beer.  When I returned with two more and sat

down across from him, I noticed that the crotch of the boxers was

practically gone.  Several small tears ran along side his bulge and the

position he was sitting in caused the fly to gape open giving me an easy

view into his bush.  It's not like I had never seen his body before - in

college we saw each other naked all the time - and he wasn't even

completely naked now.  Somehow though, this just felt different - it felt

odd.  I was finding myself uncomfortable.  Had I changed that much since

college?  Had work so sapped the life out of me that I couldn't even relax

with a friend?  He reached his arms up and stretched.  I couldn't help but

stare at his chest for a moment as he pushed it out, my eyes following up

his arms to the thick bush in his pits, partially the source of his smell.

As he arched his back we both heard a small ripping sound and he looked

quickly down to his crotch.  He started laughing when he saw that one of

the small rips had widened and his left nut was now at least partially

visible.

      "Fuck man! How old are those things?"

      "I don't remember.  They are pretty much gone, aren't they?"

      "Yeah, I'll say.  You want something else to wear?  I got plenty of

things that would fit you."  I can't believe that I said that.  I was

sounding more and more like a prude every minute.

      "It doesn't bother me...unless it's bothering you.  Not like you got

a lot covering up your stuff either."  I glanced down at my crotch and

noticed that when I had sat back down, the onion skin shorts, even though

they were completely dry now, had bunched up around my crotch and that you

could easily see the hair from my nuts sticking out.  I joined him in his

laughter and relaxed somewhat.  Keith always knew how to calm me down when

I was starting to get too uptight about something.

      We sat for a while longer, waiting for the pizza and making small

talk the whole time, catching up on everything else we had been doing since

we last saw each other.  Keith reached over and grabbed his backpack off

the floor and casually reached inside and pulled out his bong.  I couldn't

believe he still had the same one we used in college.  There were a lot of

good memories associated with that pipe.  He got up and went to kitchen,

continuing to talk the entire time as he put some water in it and returned

to the sofa to pack a bowl.  He took a deep hit and held it in as he handed

me the pipe.  It had been a while and I was more than ready for it.  That

first hit had a bite to it and I coughed a little, realizing that this was

some awesome bud.  We passed the bong back and forth until we had emptied

one bowl and had started to pack another when the doorbell rang.

      "Pizza's here!" I shouted, jumping up to find my wallet.

      "I got this one man.  Consider it a thank you for letting me crash

here for a while."  I sat back down and put the bong under that coffee

table, out of sight from the front door.  Not like it mattered, though, the

entire living room was filled with smoke and the sweet smell of pot was

flooding the place.  Keith opened the door before I realized that he was

still just wearing those old boxers.  I almost said something but he had

the door open before I could open my mouth.  The pizza guy looked at him

for a moment with a look of shock on his face before breaking into a grin.

      "Smells like a party in there..."

      "Yeah, nothing gets you hungry for pizza like a couple of bong hits."

      "Lucky bastards...wish I was doing that instead of delivering pizzas

tonight."

      "Well, come in and have a hit.  You can consider it a tip!"

      I could not believe my ears.  He was inviting this total stranger in

to smoke weed with us.  The guy walked into the room and said hello to me

and introduced himself as Tim.  Keith pulled the bong out from under the

coffee table and handed it to him.  Tim sat down and took a long, deep draw

off the especially potent grass and stretched back on the couch beside

Keith as he held it in for the full effect.  Tim was an attractive guy,

probably in his early twenties, with long black hair that fell to his

shoulders.  He was a thin guy, but didn't look like he was a bag of bones

either.  As he stretched back, I looked down and saw his filthy sneakers.

God, did those things look old!  They were worn completely through in a

couple of spots and I could see his grungy off-white athletic socks through

the holes.  He passed the bong back to Keith and thanked us for the hit.

Keith paid him and then surprised me again by asking him if he wanted to

come back by after he got off work.  Almost as an afterthought, he looked

back at me and asked if that was ok.  Like I was going to say no after the

invitation was already out there.  In fact, I had been looking forward to

just spending the night with Keith, catching up on old times and reliving

old memories.  I hadn't quite wanted a party, but what could I do?

      "Sure, I guess that would be cool.  What time do you get off

tonight?" I asked.

      "Not until midnight...is that too late?"  Actually, I did think that

was a little too late.  I had been going to bed early lately and was tired

already and it was only 6:30.  I didn't want a new guest showing up at

midnight.  Then I reminded myself that this is what I wanted - to shake

myself out of the rut I was in.  I had known that Keith wouldn't let things

get boring while he was here, but I was still surprised by this.  Keith

didn't give me a chance to answer though.  He just slapped Tim on the back

and walked him to the door telling him that we would be here.  He added

that we would probably be stoned off our asses, but we would be here.

      After Tim left, I came very close to saying something to Keith about

inviting people I didn't know into my house, but decided to let it slide.

We settled back again and ate our pizza, tossing back more beer and doing

bong hits for about an hour and a half when we decided to go back out to

the deck.  We were both pretty much wasted by now and I was feeling more

relaxed than I had felt in a long time.  The sun had just now starting to

go down and it was a great evening.  I was really feeling stoned when I saw

that Keith, instead of sitting down, walked over to the edge of the deck,

pulled out his dick and started pissing over the side.  I noticed that torn

feeling inside me again - the two parts of me battling over who was going

to control my reaction.  Two or three years ago, I would have just started

laughing or maybe not even paid any attention to him, but now part of me

felt like that was just inappropriate.  I was still thinking about it when

he turned back to me, his dick stuffed inside his worn boxers and took a

chair beside me.

      "You seem uptight man.  Is everything ok?"  The pot had slowed my

responses and it felt like it took an eternity for me to just turn my head

to him.  When I did, I noticed that the last few drops of his piss had

leaked from his cock, staining the thin white material, causing it to

become almost transparent.  My mouth felt dry and I drank from my beer as I

tried to take my eyes off of his dick to answer his question.

      "I've just lived alone too long.  This job...I mean, I'm glad I make

good money and that I can afford nice things, but it's just like it has

crushed me - taken all the fun out of my life."  He shifted in his seat

towards me as if he was struggling to pay attention (and he probably was

after all the pot we had smoked), and I saw his cock move in his shorts.

It fell down on the side that had the rips and since he was leaning

forward, I could just barely catch a peek at the skin-covered head.  My

God, I had to snap out of this.  Why was I still looking?  Back in college,

Keith and I used to hang out naked in our rooms sometimes when it got

really hot (air-conditioning was not available in the dorm we got stuck

in).  A few times, we had even jerked-off together, usually after getting

super stoned or drunk, but I had never been this fascinated with his dick.

I hoped that it was the pot making it just seem like I had been staring a

long time.

      "Well, I'm here now, buddy.  If you are looking to get out of your

rut, then I'm your man."

      "Yeah, I think that's what I need.  Living by myself all this time

has really hurt my social skills", I said with a laugh.  "Hey, I need a

cigarette.  You want another beer while I'm up?"

      "Sure thing...hey, my cigs are in my backpack.  You mind bringing

them out when you come back?"

      "You got it."  I stood up on shaky legs feeling proud that I had

managed to get through that tense situation without Keith getting

suspicious of the way I was looking at him.  I reminded myself that I get

paranoid a lot when I smoke weed and this stuff was more powerful than I

remembered.  I was fucking stoned big time.  I grabbed my cigarettes from

the counter and grabbed a few beers from the fridge.  Before opening the

sliding door to the deck though, I reached down and opened Keith's backpack

to hunt for his cigarettes.  I couldn't help but grin when I saw the stack

of porno mags and even a couple of movies down in the bottom.  Same old

Keith...at least he hadn't changed.  I grabbed his smokes and took all the

stuff outside and put it on the table.  When he reached for his beer he

accidentally tipped it over, spilling it all over the table and into his

lap.  Keith jumped up like he had seen a snake or something.  When my eyes

finally focused on him standing in front of me I nearly choked on my beer.

His threadbare boxers were soaked through.  The material may as well have

been saran wrap.  Even though he was laughing like a crazy person, my eyes

zeroed in on his cock.  Even soft, it looked so much larger than I

remembered.  Actually, I couldn't remember ever paying this much attention

to it.  I had never noticed the large vein that curved up from the

underside of his foreskin and wrapped up to the top just behind the covered

head and ran back into the thick bush of dark blonde hair in his crotch.  I

could see his large balls bouncing each time he laughed.  Even when he was

soft, his cock was impressive.  I felt completely numb.  I needed to laugh

with him or he was going to start thinking this was weird.  I forced myself

to break the lock my eyes had made on his crotch and started to laugh with

him.  Hopefully, I could play this one off too.

      "SHIT! You are totally soaked man.  Let me get something else for you

to wear."

      "No need bro...I'll just free-ball it."  His hands reached for the

sloppy waistband of his barely there boxers and started to pull them down,

but before he did, he stopped and looked at me.  "...unless that is gonna

bother you."

      There it was - decision time.  That bastard was going to get naked in

front of me and had the nerve to ask me to tell him it was ok.  What the

hell?  It really wasn't a big deal.  "What the hell, nobody's gonna see."

He slid the beer-soaked and smelly boxers down to the wooden deck and slid

his dirty feet through the openings.  When he stood back up, he playfully

twirled the wet shorts around on his index finger, like some kind of

stripper.  He was obviously feeling no pain.

      I felt conflicted.  I was really enjoying the little show he was

putting on for me.  After all the working out that I had been doing lately,

I was actually enjoying looking at another guy's body.  I remembered how I

had started to video tape some of my workouts so that I could watch them

later and judge how much progress I had made.  I remembered how sometimes

watching those videos later on would get me horny; make me need to jerk

off.  I felt a little jealous of him again, with his perfect body that he

probably rarely worked out anymore and he still looked better than me.  I

saw his well-proportioned arms and chest as he kept twirling his shorts

around, his narrow and defined waist grinding at the hips.  Keith's cock

was still soft and flopped up and down to the motion of his hips.  I looked

at his muscular thighs and calves, then down further to his large and

strong feet with perfect toes.  He looked like a Greek statue and he didn't

even know it.  He suddenly stopped his dance and just looked at me.

      "Hey, what's the matter?"

      "I don't know, man.  Maybe I'm just tired...maybe it's the pot.  You

know it's been a long time since I've had any.  I don't know."

      "Yeah, you do.  You're just not telling me.  Come on, dude.  Spill

it.  What's going on?"  He was looking down at me now while moving back to

his chair.  He was still completely naked but was serious about talking.  I

decided to just talk to him.

      "It's just that I never do anything spontaneous anymore.  I have the

most boring, regular schedule you could imagine.  The scary part is that

now that you are here, and I thought that I could just pick back up and act

like I did in college, you know, have some fun - I can't seem to relax

enough to do it.  You said I looked uptight before.  Well, you are right -

I am uptight.  I don't know what happened to me.  Even with the pot, even

though I am seriously stoned right now, I'm still thinking about how things

are gonna look, whether or not we should be acting like this."

      "Does it bother you that I'm naked?"

      "Yes and no.  I mean it doesn't bother me like I think it is wrong or

anything..."

      "Then what?"

      "I don't know."

      "Are you afraid that you are gonna get turned on?" he said with a

chuckle.

      "No." I said flatly, glaring at him.

      "Stand up and take your shorts off man."

      "Hell, no...I'm not gonna sit out here naked."  Truth be told, I

often came out on the deck without any clothes on.  No one would ever see

me this far off the main road and I had no close neighbors.  There really

wasn't anything to worry about.

      "Oh come on, you said you didn't like who you have become.  Well,

then just decide you are not gonna be like that.  Make a choice man.  Do

something spontaneous.  Have another beer.  Let's smoke some more weed.

Sit out here with your old buddy naked man.  It's not like I can't see

through those flimsy shorts of yours anyway."  He was right of course.  I

didn't have to be this uptight.  I could try to just relax and enjoy

hanging out with my best friend.  I would be just like when we were

roommates.  I stood up and shucked off the shorts and reached for my beer.

      "Happy?" I replied sarcastically.

      "Are you?"

      "Bastard!"  He started laughing again.  Every time we argued in

college, I would end up calling him a bastard especially when I was losing.

He reminded me of that.  The subject matter lightened up a lot after that

as we continued to toss back beer after beer and emptied the bong more than

once.  Several times we stopped talking altogether and just sat there with

each other, looking out over the deck to the trees and feeling the air on

our naked bodies.  I couldn't keep my eyes off him though.  His entire body

- from his nearly shaved head to his dirty feet, fascinated me.  It was

during one of our more quiet moments that I once again caught myself

staring at his package.  He was sitting next to me with his feet up on the

railing as relaxed as he could possibly get without passing out.  Then he

moved the foot closest to me down and placed it on the deck floor,

effectively spreading his legs since the other foot remained up on the

rail.  The gentle breeze caught the smell of his crotch and blew it past my

face.  I instinctively breathed it in, not caring any more that it was not

the kind of thing I would normally do.  I saw his limp cock surrounded by a

nest of soft, dirty-blonde pubes, lying gently over his large nuts.  The

skin was hanging well over the head of his dick.  As I continued to stare,

it seemed as though Keith's cock was beginning to lengthen a little.  Yes,

it was!  I could clearly see that it was chubbing up.  First, the entire

thing swelled noticeably, before starting to lengthen.  I couldn't be sure,

but it seemed like I could see his heartbeat.  It still wasn't hard enough

to lift the heavy cock off his balls but it was definitely on it's way.

There...it just started to lift off.  I glanced at Keith's face but his

eyes were shut.  By the time I returned to watching his growing bone, it

was already suspended in mid-air, starting it's swing up but not completely

hard.  I could definitely see his pulse in his cock now as with every

heartbeat, it swayed and grew firmer, more rigid.  The foreskin looked

tighter now, but still had not even begun to pull back off the head of his

cock.  The mast swayed a few times then fell back towards his stomach with

a smacking sound, fully hard and now throbbing.  His balls looked like they

were on fire, the nuts rolling around in the sac like they were alive.

      "Nice, isn't it?" he said.

      I nearly fell out of my chair.  I was mortified.  He had just caught

me staring at him while he grew a bone.  I tried to think of something to

say but couldn't.  Finally, I just decided to tell him the truth.  "Yeah,

it's a real nice one.  How big is that thing anyway?"

      He started to laugh like a crazy person.  "Actually, I was talking

about the pot, but since you mentioned it, I guess my piece is pretty nice

too.  I've never really measured it - well, not since I first started

getting wood.  I guess lots of guys measure 'em when they first start

getting bones...but I'm sure it's grown some since I was thirteen."  Then,

almost as an afterthought, he added, "Go get me a ruler man and I'll

check."

      By this time I was beyond protest.  Drunk and stoned, I stood up to

walk in the house to find a ruler.  Even though I wasn't hard myself, I

could tell that my cock was hanging heavier than normal.  It wouldn't take

much to bring me to full wood.  It still seemed odd that this was turning

me on but I just wanted to go with it now.  I returned to the deck with the

ruler and handed it out to Keith.  He just stared at me.  I thought for a

second that he was so out of it that he had forgotten what he sent me into

the house for - until he spoke.

      "You do it for me..." I stood there dumbstruck for a second but could

feel the blood start to rush to my own cock.  I knew it wouldn't be long

before it was standing at attention.

      "You gotta be kidding...right.  I don't wanna touch it.  Measure it

yourself."

      "Stop playing games with me, Sam.  You've wanted to touch it since

I got here.  Don't you think I've noticed the way you've been staring at me

all evening?"  He paused for a moment and let the words just hang there

uncomfortably.  I started to feel my own heartbeat in my dick and knew that

it was on the rise but I was powerless to stop it.  "And you know I can see

that the thought of touching it is turning you on...I mean, look at

yourself."

      I turn my gaze downward toward my own crotch and there it was - as

plain as day - my own cock betraying me by standing up hard and firm in

front of him.  Before I looked back towards Keith I saw the slit start to

glisten slightly from the pre-cum moving up inside the shaft.  "I'm sorry,

Keith.  I don't know what has gotten into me."

      "It's OK, Sam.  Look...I am your best friend, or at least I was in

college.  We can tell each other anything.  You know I won't think any less

of you.  As far as I'm concerned it's no big deal.  I've known you a long

time.  I know you are not gay.  You might be bisexual...who knows.  Maybe

you are just curious.  I really don't give a shit.  But it is obvious that

you are turned on right now and I think you should just go with it.  Who

better to explore that with than a good friend?  I sure as hell don't want

you trying to be curious with some stranger in an adult bookstore or queer

bar...or maybe you try something with the wrong person at the wrong time

and get the shit beat out of you...or worse."  I felt the moisture at the

tip of my cock begin to gather into a drop and slowly ooze its way down the

stiff shaft of my cock but was afraid to make any move to stop it or even

look down.  He continued, "Here's what I think you should do...start by

measuring it for me.  That's all.  It will give you an excuse to touch it

and maybe that will be enough to satisfy your curiosity.  If not, we can

decide then if you want to try something else.  It's just us out here

man...let me help you."  My cock pounded several more times and the drops

of goo began to gather enough weight to cause the strand to dangle from the

shaft of my cock.  I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and the

strand lengthened and stretched almost to the deck floor before breaking

off and landing on my naked foot.  "What do you say?  Just measure it for

me."

      I moved closer to him but suddenly stopped.  "I don't know what to

do."  I no longer wanted to protest but I honestly didn't know how he

expected me to measure it.

      "Here - this should make it easier."  He stood up and offered me his

chair, then moved in front of me.  His hard cock swung just inches away

from me.  He had not touched it and the skin still clung tightly to the

head of his cock, as if it was refusing to let go.  It jutted up towards

his face, hard as stone, giving me an excellent view of his large nuts.  He

didn't say anything for a moment as I just sat there and stared at it -

until he saw me lick my lips.  "Yeah, that's it, Sam.  Just look at it -

take it all in.  Like you are trying to memorize it.  Remember, you are

just satisfying your curiosity.  Everything is OK.  It's not gonna hurt you

to look at it.  Actually, I think it's kinda cool that you like looking so

much...kinda makes me feel good - like we are sharing something real

special.  Now go ahead and measure it."  I lifted the ruler and placed it

near to, but not touching his throbbing dick.  It was as if I was being

respectful to it, not wanting to disturb it.

      "You'll never get it measured right doing it like that."

      "How am I supposed to do it?" I answered, never removing my gaze from

his crotch.

      "Take your hand and pull it down so it is pointing straight out then

push the end of the ruler down into my pubes as far as it will go and

measure where the tip comes to."  I hesitantly reached out my hand and

wrapped my fingers around the hard shaft.  My mind was spinning - I

couldn't believe how much different another guys cock felt in my hand.  It

seemed like it should feel just like mine but the heat - my god - the heat

of it.  It felt like it was burning the skin on my fingers.  I pulled down,

or at least I tried, not understanding the firmness of his boner at first,

I didn't apply enough pressure.  I moved my hand and found a firmer grip

around his shaft and pulled the cock down, inadvertently sliding his

foreskin down away from the head of his dick.  I heard him moan slightly

and for some reason that pleased me.  The head of his cock was slimly and

wet from the collected pre-cum, which had gathered there instead of

dripping off drop by drop like mine does.  I moved the ruler into position

and pushed the edge into his dark blonde pubes until I felt resistance

then, laying the flat edge of the ruler along the upper side of his cock,

read the number that matched the flared red tip.

      "What does it say?" he asked.

      I didn't even look up when I spoke, "SHIT!  The fucker is over 8

inches man.  Eight and five-eights to be exact."

      "How big is yours?"

      "I don't know."  I didn't even need to be asked.  The combination of

beer and weed, along with the definite sexual heat I was feeling had washed

all embarrassment over what we were doing away.  I stood up and pushed the

ruler into my own pubes and laid my hard dick out to measure it, getting it

slick with my own pre-jiz.  "You got me beat by a lot, man.  Four and three-eights

here."

      "Nothing to be ashamed of buddy, a lot of guys have small dicks.  I think average is somewhere around six or something.  Looks like at least I was blessed in that department ."  We both laughed for a few

minutes.  I knew that his joke wasn't an insult and even if it had been, I

don't think I would have cared that much at that exact moment.  We both

moved to sit back down and Keith reached for the bong and began to pack

another bowl casually talking the whole time.

      "So...what did you think of that?"

      "It was interesting."

      "Don't make it sound like a damn science experiment.  Did you like

it?  Be honest - I'll know if you are lying."

      "Yeah...I guess it was OK.  Yeah - I liked it."  I couldn't believe

that I had just admitted that to him.  I wasn't embarrassed at all - I had

come to trust him.  Like he had said before, he was just trying to help me

understand why I was so curious.

      "I liked it too.  It was nice feeling you touch me like that.  You

know, I used to wonder when we were back in college what it would feel like

to have a dude touch me, but back then I would never have done it.  It's

nice to know that you get into my body like that.  Believe me, Sam; you

can touch me any damn time you want to.  I just don't wanna push you or

anything.  It has to be your decision."  He waited a few moments and took a

hit off the bong before he continued.  "Listen - Tim won't be here for at

least another two hours, if he shows up at all.  Tell you what I'm gonna do

for you.  Any part of my body you want to touch is yours.  You can do

anything you want to with it and it will stay just between the two of us.

If you don't like doing it after you get started, all you have to do is

stop.  I can see that you haven't worked out all your curiosity yet and I

want to help you."

      "I still don't know if I should be doing this, Keith."

      "How about we start with something simple.  My feet really hurt from

all the traveling and wearing those sandals.  I could sure use a foot rub

about now.  There's nothing freaky about one buddy giving another a foot

massage is there?  Think of it this way, you would actually be doing me a

favor.  There's nothing sexual at all about that.  If, after working on my

feet a while, you want to try touching some other parts that will be fine

with me.  If you decide to stop, that will be fine too.  It will just help

get you started.  What do you say?"

      I thought about it for just a second while I took a big hit off the

bong.  I knew that this would change our relationship despite his promises

to the contrary, but by now my hormones were raging.  I had gone this far

and even though this was new to me decided to go for.  After all, I had

been hoping for some excitement this weekend.  I looked up at Keith and

said, "I'll do it."

      "Great, buddy.  I really need a foot rub.  Get down there and make my

feet feel good."  His subtle change in tone towards me was completely lost

in the haze of pot and sexual heat.  I sat down on the deck and reached out

for his left foot, lifting it up and placing it on my lap.  I wasted no

time in using my fingers to dig in and give his foot the deep massage he

had asked for.  I heard him moan in appreciation and saw him adjust his

position in the chair, moving his foot within inches of my drippy cock.  As

he moved his foot, he stretched out his toes and wagged them in the air,

causing the smell to waft up to my nose.  "That feels really good, buddy.

Sorry if they smell bad."

      "They're not that bad."

      "Man, they must reek.  With all the traveling I've done, I know they

are not clean.  I mean, I can smell them from up here."

      "I don't mind."

      "Maybe you are into guy smells - that's not so bad either."

      "I don't think so, Keith."

      "Oh come on, you've come this far.  Take a whiff, Sam, and tell me

what you think."  Before I had time to resist, he lifted his foot up and

placed it right in my face.  I almost said no and thought about standing up

and calling the whole thing off, but for some reason I didn't.  I simply

sat there with his foot in my face and took a visible deep breath in

through my nose.  My cock dripped a few new drops of pre-cum as the smell

of his unwashed foot made it's way to my brain.  This was the smell of a

man - and whether I was prepared to admit it or not, I was turned on by it.

So was Keith.

      "Oh yeah, that's it man - get into it.  Dude, it's really hot the way

your cock slimes all over itself with my foot in your face.  You must like

it man."  He pushed the foot even closer to my face, the toes actually

brushing against my lips.  Given that my cock was now completely in control

of my actions, I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue, gently licking

around his big toe.  I moved my hands up to hold his foot to my mouth and

continued the tongue-bath.  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I

would regret giving in to this pleasure, but at the moment, this was all I

wanted in the whole world.

      "Fuck yeah, put my toes in your mouth and suck on them, dude.  Sam,

man you really are into this.  Your little cock is drooling like crazy now."  I

didn't need to look down at myself to know that he was telling the truth.

I could feel the continued wetness of my pre-cum running down my shaft and

collecting around my nuts before dripping off onto the deck below.  He

moved his other foot to my crotch and ran it along the shaft of my dick

before lifting it up to my face, replacing his other foot.  "Lick it up,

man."  I didn't even hesitate this time before using my tongue to lick my

own pre-fuck off his big toe, wetting it further with my own saliva.

"That's it man - give in to it.  Let yourself go.  You know what feels good

to you and so does your dick, dude.  Just forget about being embarrassed

and let yourself do what feels right.  I love seeing you down there like

that, getting off on my dirty feet, getting off on the smell of a man."  I

grabbed both feet in my hands and held them firmly to my face, running my

tongue in between his toes, cleaning out the collection of dirt and sweat I

found there.  I could feel my balls churning and knew I was close - even

without touching myself I knew that I was going to blow any minute.  Keith

did too.

      He took one of his feet and wrenched it out of my hands and gently

slapped me across the face with it.  "Don't cum yet.  It's too early."  He

then pulled both feet away from me and swung them both up on the table and

proceeded to inspect them.  "You got them pretty clean man - who needs a

shower when you are around."  He started to laugh and for the first time, I

felt he was laughing at me instead of just having fun with me.  He told me

to get up and sit in the chair, then handed me the bong to take another

hit.  My cock swung painfully in the air as I got up off the deck and flung

pre-cum everywhere.  A long strand was hanging right off the edge.  I had

never been this turned on before in my entire life.  I didn't want any more

pot.  I just wanted to cum.  But Keith wasn't about to let that happen any

time soon.  Instead of sitting back down, I just stood there and grabbed my

own dick, stroking it, hoping to relieve the massive pressure that had

built up in my nuts.  I knew it wouldn't take but a few strokes and I was

almost over the edge before Keith stood up and wrestled my hand away from

my dick.

      "I said to sit down."

      "But I need to cum - bad."

      "We'll get to that, but it's not time yet.  Now sit."  He directed me

to the chair and I sat, puzzled as to why he didn't want to let me get off.

      "Why won't you let me do it?  You said I should be spontaneous and

get into it, but now you don't want to let me finish.  Why?"

      "The most important word in that question was 'finish'.  That's just

what it is with most guys.  Get your nut off and then you are done.  Well,

that's a huge waste man.  Sex is fun and when anything is fun, you should

try to make it last as long as possible.  Get really into it and stretch

the whole experience out.  Tell me, when you jerk off, how long does it

usually take you?"

      "About ten or fifteen minutes - maybe twenty if I'm drunk."

      "I used to be the same way.  Whack off really fast and be done with

it.  But you haven't experienced anything until you've held it back for a

while, really gotten into your cock and let it build and build before you

blow.  Man, that is one of the most awesome experiences in the world.  I

think I'd like to share that with you.  You know, help you out, and help

you learn how to make something as awesome as sex last longer than ten or

fifteen minutes."

      "I don't know if I can - I mean, just look at me."  He leaned forward

in his seat and took a good look at my crotch.  My cock was still as hard

as I've ever seen it.  It was swollen and red and dripping like crazy.

Keith looked up from my crotch and stared me in the eyes.

      "Close your eyes for a second."  I did as I was told.  "Now, just

think about your little cock - think about the way it feels spiking up in the

air like that, drooling all over the place.  Now tell me, how does that

feel?"

      "It feels awesome.  You know that.  It's one of the greatest feelings

in the world."

      "Then why do you want it to end so fast?  It's only 10:30.  We got

all night.  Well, maybe not all night because I asked that pizza guy over,

but we still got plenty of time.  You can make it last longer.  You can

feel that pressure in your cock keep building and building until you

finally let loose with a cum-blast like you've never had before.  Aren't

you the least bit curious about how long you can last?  Aren't you one bit

curious about how that would feel - to nut after a couple of hours of

playing with it?"

      "A couple of hours!  Keith, there is no way in hell I will last that

long.  Even if I don't touch it, sometimes it just goes off by itself when

I get horny enough."

      "I know - mine does the same thing sometimes.  Just takes a little

training and I can help with that."

      "What do you mean?"

      "I could show you an awesome time tonight if you'd let me, but you

would have to do it my way, follow my instructions.  I'm not sure you could

let yourself go quite that much though.  You are probably not interested in

the kind of experience that I'm talking about."

      "That seems a little over the top to me, Keith.  I mean, following

your instructions.  You know, this is my house and if I wanted to I could

just go to my bedroom or the bathroom and get off."

      "And you could have resisted me when I made you stop a few minutes

ago - but you didn't.  Part of you wants to know more about what I'm

talking about.  That same part of you that was curious about my body,

curious about my smells.  When I showed up this afternoon, you had no idea

you would end up touching my cock, or rubbing my feet - or sucking them for

that matter.  But you did and you and your cock loved it.  You gave in to

it and was rewarded with pleasure, weren't you?  You want to let me teach

you now, don't you?  You'd only be admitting what we both already know."

      "That depends on the rules."

      "There are only two actually.  First, you are not allowed to touch

your own cock unless told to do so no matter how much you feel like you

need to.  You don't have the control needed or enough knowledge of your own

body yet to know when to stop in time."

      "I told you that doesn't always work.  Sometimes it just goes off by

itself."

      "Let me worry about that ok.  I'm gonna be your coach through this -

I'll do my best to keep that from happening until we are ready."

      "OK - what's the second rule?"

      "Simple, you agreed ahead of time to at least TRY anything I tell you

to do.  You will try it and if you don't like it you will be free to stop.

Some of the things you might not have thought you would like, but you might

find out that you do.  Some of the things, after you at least try them, you

won't like and you can just stop and we'll both know that you're not into

it and we won't try it again.  But you can't just say no without at least

giving it a shot."

      "I can't agree to do that - not without knowing what kinds of things

you are gonna ask me to do."

      Keith shot me a disgusted look.  "Fine, go in your room and jerk off.

I was just trying to help you out, but I can't do that if you won't agree

to the terms.  You know what, just never mind.  I should have known better

to think that you could open your mind up to new experiences like that.

You've changed since college, Sam, and it's not been for the best."  He

started to get up, a look of sincere frustration on his face.

      "Wait!" I called out after him.  I didn't have time to really think

about what I was about to get myself into, but that really didn't matter to

me.  All I knew is that I wasn't ready for this to stop and if agreeing to

his rules would make him happy, then that's what I wanted to do.  Maybe, he

was right.  Maybe I would enjoy it.  "I'll do it."

      "You agree to both rules?"

      "Yes."

      "And you won't try to back out once we get started?"

      "No, I will do whatever you say."  Keith returned to his seat with a

cocky smirk across his face.  I looked down to his crotch and noticed that

his hard-on had subsided somewhat and the hood of skin had returned to

covering up the head.  There was a sticky strand of goo hanging from the

bunched up skin at the tip.  As he sat back down and adjusted his balls, he

spent just a moment staring at me, sizing me up, and letting the importance

of what I had just agreed to sink in further.

      "Get on your knees."

      "What?"

      He jumped out of his seat and grabbed me by the back of the head with

enough force to startle me, but not enough to cause any pain.  He tilted my

head up until our eyes met.  Then he spoke to me in slow deliberate words.

"Don't question me.  Remember - you try everything you are told to do.  If

you don't like it after you try it, you can stop.  But don't question me

again.  Understood?"  He continued to hold my head still in his hands until

he got the answer he was looking for.  I nodded that I understood.  He

released me and returned to his chair.

      "Good.  Now let's try that again.  Get on your knees."

      I did exactly as he demanded, a little shaken by his sudden attitude

shift but still trusting that he wouldn't make me do anything that at least

in the back of my mind I wouldn't enjoy doing anyway.  I saw him smile when

he noticed how quickly I obeyed him this time.

      "Now get over here and take another look at my cock - a real close

look.  That's how all this started anyway isn't it - you not being able to

tear your eyes away from my dick?  Well, it's gone soft now and I think you

want to see it bone up again.  Maybe this time from really close up.  Get

your face up here really close to my balls."  I did exactly as he said.

"No, get closer - closer."  My nose was within inches of his cock and balls

when he once again grabbed the back of my head and forced it in even

closer, my mouth and nose touching his balls and gooey dick.  "Now - take a

deep breath and hold it in."  I did the best I could with my face crammed

in his crotch.  The sweaty, musky smell of man-crotch hit my brain like a

drug.  My own dick suddenly became painfully hard.  My knees were hurting

from the wood of the deck floor but I didn't care.  I took one deep breath

after another before I actually started to move my face around in his

crotch, sniffing him good, moving over every inch as if I was trying to

capture all of his smells without letting any escape.  Keith took one of

his hands off the back of my head and positioned his cock so that it was

lying across my face as I continued to root around in his crotch.  I felt

the slime of his pre-cum start to ooze out over my forehead as I used my

nose to lift up his balls and sniff under one and then the other.

Something clicked in the back of my mind and I suddenly knew that I was in

trouble - that I was hooked.  I was afraid that Keith would use my

eagerness against me, but knew that there was nothing I could do to stop

myself.  These fears were well grounded.

      "Damn, dude!  You look like a fucking pig down there sniffing all

over my sweaty nuts.  Man, I know that's gotta stink but there you are,

getting off on it.  I can't see your little dick from this position but I can tell

from the way you are rooting around in my funk that it's gotta be just

pounding man."  He took his other hand away from the back of my head and I

knew that I should take my head away from his nuts, but I couldn't.  The

smell was intoxicating and addictive.  I just kept on breathing deeply all

around his balls and the base of his cock, which was leaking freely all

over my face.  "Shit, little piggy just can't get enough can he?  I knew it

- knew it all along.  I knew that once I gave you a chance to get into my

cock you'd never be satisfied ever again unless you had your face up

against it."  My face flushed with embarrassment but still my face remained

buried.  He raised one foot off the deck and used it to push me back off

his crotch.  Startled, I fell backwards on my ass.  Looking at him, I found

that he was once again bone hard and I tried to move back to him.  He

anticipated the move, however and lifted his foot again to block the way

back to his cock and balls.

      "Not so fast, fucker!  I want to make this last a while too.  Your

little piggy sniffing got me a little hotter than I thought it would.  It

needs to cool down a little."  He casually opened another bottle of beer

and started to sip.  "Man, I knew you were going to like that - you were

fucking into it.  Tell me how much you liked it."

      "I can't do that - it's too embarrassing."  He answered by giving me

another foot slap across the face.

      "Wrong answer, faggot!"  I almost protested that name, but then

realized that the last slap actually stung my face quite a bit.  An image

of my face with red marks showing where his toes had hit me emerged in my

mind.  My cock pulsed again with the thought and I was repulsed.  I was

afraid now.  This whole situation was getting out of control.  I was

getting out of control.  I had just acted like a complete whore - no worse

than a whore - I've never ever seen a bitch in a porno get off on a guys

crotch like I just did.  And Keith was either too high or drunk or both to

be predictable anymore.  I quickly decided that to question him again might

get me hurt.  He glared at me.  "I told you to tell me how much you liked

it!"  I was about to lose a little more of my already quickly shrinking

dignity.

      "It was awesome - the smell was incredible.  I never thought

something like that could get me so turned on."  I was mortified to be

saying those words, but even more embarrassed that they were the truth.

Keith just glared at me for a few seconds before standing up and moving

towards the sliding glass door.  He paused just as his hand reached for the

handle.

      "I'm going inside to get my bag.  You stay right where you

are...don't move a muscle or even think about touching your cock.  Do you

understand?"  I nodded that I did, but instead of going inside he just

stood there looking at me.  "I'm getting really tired of just seeing you

nod at me.  You have a voice...use it."

      "I understand Keith, I won't move or touch it."  His control over me

was growing.

      He moved inside the house but was only gone for a few seconds before

coming back out again with his bag.  He sat back down in front of me and

began to look for something in one of the side pockets.  Once he had found

the object of his search, he opened his hand to me showing me a tiny white

tablet and my half-drunk beer.  "Here, take this."

      "What is it?"  I was answered with another foot slap, harder still

than the last one.

      "NO QUESTIONS!  I'll tell you after you take it."  I reached up, took

the tablet and washed it down with a swig of beer.

      "That was a tab of XTC.  It will put you in a really nice place.

You'll feel all the sensations tonight but won't analyze every goddamn

thing like you have been so far.  I actually think you will like it.  It

will take about 20 minutes or so to kick in so we need to do something that

won't make you blow your nut before then."  He paused for a moment as he

thought.  "Just get down on my feet again, but you had better not touch

your cock or blow your nut.  If you start to feel close let me know and

I'll help you calm down.  Once the pill kicks in good, we'll move on."  He

pulled his watch out of the bag and put it on the table in front of him as

I just stared at him.  "Well, what are you waiting for?" The tone of his

last sentence told me that resistance would only get me another slap so I

immediately reached for his feet with my hands.  "With your fucking mouth!"

      I did as he commanded.  Putting my hands down on the deck, I leaned

forward and began to lick his feet again as he packed yet another bowl into

the bong.  I began by simply licking the tops of his feet, getting the

tuffs of hair that ran across the top wet with my spit.  Moving down, I

began to lick at the hairs that sprang from the middle of each toe.

Despite the fact, that I felt like he was forcing me to do this, in some

way I felt almost privileged to be on my knees in front of him servicing

him like this.  I knew that my cock was dripping again as I felt a new

batch of precum slip out and slide down my rock-hard prick.  It tickled my

balls as the wetness gathered and ran over them before dripping off on the

deck below.  I had never realized how much I dripped as usually the stuff

got rubbed in as I jerked off, but now, unable to touch it, the pre-cum was

free to collect and run all over the place.  I turned my head slightly to

look at Keith and found that he wasn't even looking at me - his face was

turned to the woods as he silently sipped another beer.  I was almost

disappointed.  I had enjoyed the way he talked to me earlier and even

though the thought appalled me, I missed the nasty talk from my college

buddy.  I moved my tongue down between his toes and was rewarded as he

spread them and tilted his entire right foot up, lifting the sole off the

deck and allowing me free access to suck on his smelly toes.  I worked each

one slowly, sucking them as best I could in this position not able to use

my hands before moving to his left foot and repeating the service.  I heard

him fumbling around again in his bag but by this time I was into the job I

was performing and didn't even bother to look up until I saw a bright flash

of white.  Looking up I was humiliated even further when I saw that he was

holding an instant camera that had just spit out the first of many pictures

to be taken that night.  I stopped for a moment and just stared at him.  He

met my gaze and glared back, speaking slow and purposeful words, "GET BACK

TO WORK!"  Embarrassed and beaten, I lowered myself back to his feet.  Then

I felt the drug hit.  With the big toe of his right foot again in my mouth,

I suddenly felt my skin begin to tingle over my entire body.  My cock began

to lurch and throb wildly and I knew that I was about 5 seconds from

shooting a massive load.  I let out a moan and Keith knew I was close as

well.

      With amazing speed, he grabbed the back of my head and tossed me

backwards.  I knocked over the chair nearest me and fell back on my

haunches in the corner of the deck.  Looking up, I saw Keith towering over

me, his half-hard cock jutting out from his body, the skin pulled up over

the head with a slimy strand of his goo hanging from the bunched up folds.

All I could do was stare.

      Keith's sudden movements had once again brought me back from the

brink of orgasm and I just squatted in front of him, panting, admiring his

crotch.  He gently lifted the half-swollen prick and pointed it at my face,

holding the camera with the other hand.  "Open your mouth!"  I don't know

why I did it, but afterwards I regretted it.  As I stared open-mouthed at

his cock, I saw it suddenly begin to spew forth with a stream of hot piss,

the first blast of which caught me right in my open mouth.  At that same

moment, I saw another blinding flash of white and the whirring of the motor

in the camera.  When my sluggish reflexes correctly determined what was

happening, I closed my mouth and attempted to move out of the way but was

caught halfway as Keith's strong arm released his cock and grabbed my head.

He didn't try to re-open my mouth but he did succeed in positioning my head

right on his still gushing cock.  I felt the piss cover my head and face,

running down my chest and pooling near my naked feet.  He thrust my head

backwards and let the last strong streams of piss land right on my cock.

The heat of it was incredible and despite my humiliation felt the load once

again build in my nuts.  But then, as suddenly as it began, it was over and

Keith stood over me, shaking the last drops of smelly piss from his covered

cockhead.

      "That's it fucking faggot...you just took a man's piss and you are

still fucking hard.  I figured that's the way it would be.  You didn't even

struggle that much.  I probably could have even talked you into it, but was

afraid you'd just bitch.  Thought it would be better to take you by

surprise.  Well, you took it bitch and from the looks of your cock, you

liked it.  Look down at yourself."  I did as he asked and was mortified by

what I saw.  My cock was lurching again and thrashing wildly.  One or two

strokes would have gotten it off easily.  The entire thing was swollen

obscenely and was covered in precum that was beginning to look more and

more milky in consistency.  I was obviously turned on but was not ready to

admit that much to Keith.

      "It's the drugs.  Anyway, you said that when I was ready to quit we

could.  Well, I'm ready Keith.  That's enough - I don't want to do anything

else."  I felt like I was on the verge of tears, my voice cracking as I

spoke.

      Keith merely turned around and returned to his seat.  He lit a

cigarette and stared at me, still crouching on the deck, covered in his

piss with my hard cock dripping and jutting out from my crotch.  He sat

there for a long moment before he finally spoke.  "Tough!  That's what the

pictures were for.  I didn't trust you enough to take you at your word that

you wouldn't try and back out of this tonight, so I thought I would take

the pictures and use them to keep you in line.  Look, Sam, you don't have

to be afraid of me.  It's obvious from looking at your cock that you are

still enjoying yourself - you just can't admit it...yet.  If your cock were

soft right now, I'd tear these pictures up and we could forget the whole

thing.  If at any time tonight that happens, I'll believe you and we can

quit.  Otherwise we keep going or these pictures mysteriously show up at

your job, or maybe your parents would like to see them."  I knew I was

totally beaten now.  There was no getting out of this except to let him

continue my "training".  He was right about one thing - I was still horny

as hell and needed badly to get off.  Even though this was humiliating, at

least my body was enjoying it.  I looked back up at Keith and he saw from

my expression that I would do anything he asked.  "How close are you to

shooting?"

      "I'm very close.  It could happen at any time."

      "Stand up and wait for that button you call a cock to start to droop a little."  I did

as he commanded and stood in the corner of the deck, being careful not to

stimulate my cock in the slightest.  I must have waited for ten minutes,

but finally my cock began to drop slightly as I got cold from the drying

piss on my body.  I felt colder than I would normally feel as the drug had

fully kicked in now and every sensation in my body was magnified beyond

anything I had ever felt before.  Keith noticed me shiver when my cock

began to soften a bit and grabbed his bag and motioned for me to go inside.

He followed behind me, shutting and locking the sliding glass door before

turning around to face me once again.  His stare was captivating, almost

hypnotic - I could not break free.  Finally, he moved the coffee table away

from the couch and motioned for me to sit down.  I moved over to the couch

and naively sat down on the cushions.  I saw the frustration in his face -

"On the floor, bitch!  Get on your knees, on the floor, now!"  I quickly

repositioned myself the way he wanted me and felt him gather my wrists

behind my back.  More quickly than I could have anticipated, he began to

wrap what must have been a rope securely around them, tying it off in a

tight knot.  He then proceeded to pull the remaining end of the rope down

and tied it roughly around both my ankles.  Standing up to admire his

handiwork, he saw me kneeling on my own living room floor, wrists tightly

bound behind my back and anchored to my ankles.  It wasn't really

uncomfortable, but my movements were definitely limited now.  I was his now

- and he knew it.

      Moving around in front of me, he casually sat on the couch and lit

another cigarette, blowing his smoke towards me each time he exhaled, never

speaking a word, but never allowing me to escape his cruel stare.  He was

enjoying the awkwardness of this situation, enjoying the mix of fear,

anticipation, and pleasure that he found in my eyes, and he wanted to make

this last as long as possible.  "Look at your fucking cock, faggot!" he

commanded as he took the last draw off his cigarette.  I obeyed, knowing

what I would find.  My cock was back to full mast again, turned on my

nothing more than his stare and the thought that I was his to do with as he

pleased - that whatever he planned to do, I was powerless to stop it.  The

slit of my cock seemed to be oozing a constant stream of juice now; in

fact, the entire shaft was covered in my dick slime - some the hairs of my

crotch were even matted down with my precum.

      "I think it's time for something I'm gonna enjoy.  I let you at my

feet twice already and even let you sniff around my crotch with your faggot

face.  Shit, I even let you taste a little of my piss.  Now it's time for

the real thing.  You're finally going to get to suck it.  But not right

away, no, that would be too quick for me.  Remember, I like to make it last

a while too."  He looked up at the clock and saw that it was 11:20.  "You

are not allowed to make me sling it before midnight...do you understand?"

      "I understand, Keith." My gaze was already fixed on the enormous

skin-covered cock that was drooling on my couch.  He wasn't fully hard and

the weight of his dick had it laid out on the cushions instead of pointing

up towards his face, as it had been when he first sat down.  I shivered at

the thought of tasting the wetness that I saw and realized that I wanted to

do it.  I still couldn't admit it...but I definitely wanted it.  Keith

chuckled to himself as he saw me staring at it, as if he knew exactly what

was going on in my mind, knowing the private war that I was fighting

between my brain and my dick, and knowing, in the end, which one would win.

      "Well, what are you waiting for?  Get started already!"  I painfully

inched forward on my knees when I realized that Keith wasn't about to move

at all.  When I had finally covered the distance between us, I lowered my

head and had almost arrived at his juiced-up cock when his hand grabbed my

head and slowed my descent.  "Just lick it a while first.  You may need

some instructions if you are going to make it until midnight."  I stuck out

my tongue and lowered my head further until it made contact with the

puckered folds of skin covering his cockhead.  I immediately tasted the

salty funk of his precum as I used my tongue to probe deeper and deeper

into his foreskin.  I could sense that his cock was once again on the rise

and heard him let out a soft moan.  Hearing him make that sound set me on

fire.  I immediately tried to take the entire head of his cock into my

mouth but was quickly pulled off again.  "Are you deaf, faggot?  Look, I

know you want this cock bad, but you WILL follow my instructions.  I only

told you to lick it.  I want you to lick it until it is completely hard and

skinned back, then I'll let you try and discover what other talents that

mouth of yours might have."  Releasing my head, he once again relaxed on

the couch while I continued to lick at his growing bone using only my

tongue.  I could feel the weight of his cock giving way to the strength of

his erection and I had to move closer as it began to bob and sway in front

of my face, now hanging half-hard, pulsing and moving around.  It was a

challenge to capture it as I used my tongue to get the foreskin as wet as

possible, drinking down his precum every time I saw another drop ooze from

the folds.  Just then, I saw the crimson head of his cock begin to emerge

from the tight ring at the tip of his foreskin.  It was amazing.  The slimy

cock pulsed again and the head pushed forward as the skin slowly peeled

back.  The throbbing cock slapped me across the face as it continued to

throb and pulse in mid-air.  I stuck my tongue out again and used it help

the head finally free the foreskin once and for all.  Keith moaned again as

he felt my tongue brush over his naked cockhead and I knew that I was about

to lose it.  I was terrified at the thought of what Keith would do to me if

I shot right now, so I fought hard to hold it back.  I looked up at Keith

and told him what was about to happen.

      "Keith...if I keep doing this I'm gonna cum.  I know you don't want

me too, but I'm so fucking close!"  I looked up and watched for his

reaction.

      Keith stared at me for only a split-second before launching a big wad

of spit right into my face and using his foot to push me backwards.  Tied

up and off-balance, I fell on my side to the floor, my hard cock pulsing

against the rough carpet, only seconds from spewing it's load.  Keith got

up and retrieved his bag, pulling out a shorter length of rope.  He roughly

separated my knees and grabbed at my balls, pulling them away from my body

and wrapped the rope around them.  The pain was intense but bearable and it

successfully brought me back from the edge.  Keith jiggled the rope in his

hand for a few seconds and watched the fear in my eyes before sharply

pulling it back and tying it to the rope around my ankles.  It felt like he

was going to pull my nuts off.  As I gathered my breath, he walked back to

the couch and sat down, muttering to himself about what a pussy I was -

that I would keep getting so close to shooting with a cock in my face.

"Get the fuck back over here, Goddamnit!  You got a job to finish."  As I

struggled to my knees again, the rope painfully pulled on my balls as I

tried to cover the distance between us.  Once there, he grabbed the back of

my head and positioned his nasty cock right on my lips.  "Open up,

Sam...you been wanting this all night."  I opened my mouth and felt about

three inches of his steely hard cock slip into my mouth.  He moaned and

just held it there for a few seconds, telling me how hot my mouth felt

around his cock.

      Holding my head firmly, he began to pump it up and down on his drippy

meat, farther and farther down the shaft until the thick head began to hit

the back of my throat.  I felt the urge to gag each time it touched the

back of my mouth but Keith didn't care anymore.  Tears began to well up in

my eyes, an automatic reflex when a person feels they are choking.  Through

those tears, it was easy to see that at least half of his cock was still

outside my mouth.  How far did he intend to go?

      The answer came moments later when he pulled my face clear of his

cock and held it firmly less than an inch away from the angry, flared head.

He didn't let me look at him, but I heard him say, "Take a long, really

deep breath through you mouth..." As soon as he saw me begin to take the

breath, he slammed my head viciously into his crotch, his dirty cock only

pausing slightly as it bumped the back of my throat before sliding down the

relaxed opening.  Of course, as soon as I realized what had happened my

throat was no longer relaxed.  I was gagging constantly as he held my head

down in his pubes, my throat convulsing over and over around the thick

invader.  "Fuck YESSSSSS!!!  Shit, that's it man...it's like your throat is

trying to get my cock off all by itself.  Goddamnit, faggot, your throat

was made for a man's cock - made to let a man sling his baby maker's down

there."  Just as I felt that I was going to pass out, Keith raised my head

up long enough for me to gasp for air.  I could see thick, nasty strands of

my saliva mixed with his precum gushing out of my mouth and down his thick

shaft - it was the consistency of cum as it slipped nastily over his balls

and ran down my couch.  Keith then proceeded to thrust my head back down

his shaft and even though he had a more difficult time ramming it past the

back of my mouth and into my throat (he didn't have the element of surprise

anymore) he still managed to slip all the way inside until my nose was once

again buried in his pubes.  I gagged again, producing another thick, white

glob of mucus to lubricate his cock for each successive thrust.  He didn't

hold me down on it as long this time before letting me up for air and

thrusting it back again.  Soon he had developed and settled into a long,

slow, deep throat fuck and I was beginning to get a grip on my breathing,

timing the breaths to occur at exactly the moment my mouth cleared the head

of his cock.  He was totally in control, never releasing my head for a

second.  I knew that spit and precum were everywhere - I could see a

fucking puddle of white, foamy saliva dripping off his balls onto my couch

before oozing all the way to the floor.  Keith continued his verbal assault

as well - "Yeah, you fucking pussy...take my cock - take it all the way to

the root, faggot!  You've been dreaming about this for years, haven't you?

Thinking about my wet, uncut cock sliding down your throat.  Seeing me

naked when we were in college must have been a real treat for you - bet you

used to frig that fag prick of yours every time I left for class.  Those

couple of times we beat off together you were thinking about how it would

feel to get my dick snot all over you instead of it just flying around the

room.  Shit, wouldn't surprise me to find out that you used to lick it up

off the floor after I was done.  I gotta admit you hid it well though - I

mean, just the two of us cooped up in that tiny room...my dirty socks and

underwear laying around everywhere, smelling up the place.  Bet you got

into those smells back then too.  From the way you got into my feet and

balls tonight, I know you must of sprung a bone every time you walked into

our room."  He wrapped the toes of his right foot around the rope

connecting my balls to my ankles and started to tug at it, over and over

again, in time to his downward thrusts of my head.  My cock was slinging my

shit all over the place.  If I hadn't been so concerned about not choking

to death, I'm sure I would have exploded - as it was I was hanging on to

the most awesome feeling of impending orgasm I had ever felt.  "Fuck, I bet

you couldn't wait to see my cock this weekend, could you, faggot?  That was

probably the reason you invited me to stay with you - we were roommates and

all, but admit it, we never had THAT much in common.  You just couldn't

wait to see my cock all laid out again.  Well, you got more that you

bargained for, didn't you, pussy?  I knew there was a fag in you and I was

just the man to bring it out.  Shit, I still can't believe how juiced up

you got measuring my cock - or how hot you got sucking my toes - fuck man,

you almost shot while you were doing that.  I mean that's fucked up, even

for a faggot."  His thrust were becoming quicker now and I felt a new wave

of swelling travel up his cock - I knew he was getting close.  "Remember

how you fucking rooted around my balls, fagboy?  Shit, you looked like a

fucking pig down there.  Well, now you're getting the whole thing - right

down your faggot throat, just like you always wanted.  My big, thick, uncut

cock - the same cock that pissed in your face is pounding your throat like

a fucking pussy.  Your throat is about to milk the fucking sperm out of my

nuts and that fucking makes you hot, doesn't it?  Takes you right to the

edge thinking about tasting my nut.  Well, faggot, get ready - here it

comes!!!!"

      Time slowed to a crawl as I felt his cock swell even larger and the

first violent wave of cum traveled up his shaft to empty far down my

throat.  I knew I was going to cum too and was preparing for my own massive

orgasm when Keith painfully gripped the hair on the back of my head and

forced my head off his cock.  With unbelievable quickness for a man in the

middle of an orgasm, he pulled my head awkwardly backwards and moved to sit

right on the edge of the sofa with the head of his cock less than an inch

from my mouth.  It shuddered again with nothing to hold it steady and

spewed a second massive load all over my face, from my hairline down to my

chin.  I wanted to cum with him, but the pain in my scalp had caused me to

loose focus and with the haze of the drugs in my brain, my nuts just

wouldn't release it.  A third blast coated my right cheek and quickly ran

down to my chin, mingling with what was already there and gaining enough

weight to slide off onto the floor.  Keith then used his other hand to pull

his foreskin up and over the still spouting head of his dick, tightly

pinching it off between his thumb and forefinger.  I saw the skin begin to

swell and I knew that he was still pumping out his load into it.  It

ballooned even more and he tilted his head back in ecstasy.  God, how I

wanted to be shooting my load!  I focused on the underside of his shaft and

noticed it contract as yet another wave of his nut made its way to

accumulate under his foreskin.  He yanked my head backwards even further

and looked down at me contemptuously, hocking a nasty wad of spit into my

open mouth.  "Fucking faggot hasn't gotten to taste any yet.  Is that what

you want, pussy - to taste my fucking nut?"  Well beyond embarrassment by

now, I eagerly nodded that I wanted it.  He shook my head hard and started

to yell.  "I told you not to fucking nod at me - use your fucking mouth,

bitch - tell me what you want!"

      "Please...God, Keith.  I want to taste it so bad.  Please don't waste

it.  I need to see what it tastes like.  I've done everything you wanted

tonight - please let me have it in my mouth."  I was scared and excited at

the same time.  He really was hurting me by pulling my hair so hard, but

deep inside I really meant every word of my humiliating pleadings.

      "Keep your mouth open, bitch - here it comes...ENJOY!"  He held his

still throbbing cock over my open mouth as he moved even closer to the edge

of the couch and just let it sit there for a moment, temptingly, as he

still kept the skin pinched off, staring at me, watching my reaction.

After what seemed like an eternity, he skinned his cock back and I got my

first taste of his load.  It was amazing.  As his cockhead cleared the

nasty confines of his foreskin, the pent up cum ran out like a fountain

directly into my waiting, hungry mouth.  The taste was incredible and I

knew that I was hooked - everything he had said about me was true.  I

wanted to cry, I wanted to cum, I wanted to run away, I wanted to taste

more of his cock - all at the same time.  I closed my mouth and moved the

thick, creamy nut of my college buddy around with my tongue to coat the

entire inside of my mouth, savoring the musky flavor and heat of his cum.

He began to beat my face with his slimy cock, moving his cum all over my

face before he released the back of my head long enough to take a few

snapshots of his new pussy buddy.

      It barely registered in my frenzied brain that the doorbell was

ringing.

When I finally realized that the noise I heard was the doorbell, I

froze in complete panic.  Looking up at Keith, I saw him staring down at me

with that same contemptuous smirk that I had grown used to during the past

few hours.  His hard cock still jutted out from his dark blonde pubes with

a large drop of his white load hanging loosely from the tip.  His foreskin

had already begun to reclaim the head of his cock as it had begun to lose

some of its swelling after his orgasm.  The doorbell rang again.

      "Think I should get that, faggot?" he leered at me.

      "Please, Keith, don't answer the door.  I'll do anything you want but

please don't let that guy in."

      He only chuckled as he moved towards my front door, not even

bothering to cover up, his cock swaying as he walked.  He looked through

the peephole first, then unlocked the door and opened it.

      "What the fuck!  Sorry dude - I must be interrupting something."  The

voice was Tim's - I could recognize it even through the haze of the pot,

beer, XTC, and sex.  I quickly evaluated my options - I had none.

      "It's OK...come on in.  We were just finishing up - and we got plenty

of weed left."  I heard Tim enter my house and the door shut behind him.  I

looked down, trying to avoid looking Tim in the face, and was mortified to

find that my cock was still hard.  A nasty looking drop of Keith's cum was

hanging from the head of my own throbbing dick, which was still pulsing and

swinging obscenely.

      "Shit, dude!  What the fuck were you guys doing in here?" asked Tim

when he rounded the corner into the living room and saw me trussed up on

the floor by the couch.  "This looks like some sick shit."

      "It's alright, man.  I just found out that my old college buddy has a

few interests that I never knew about when we used to live together.  He's

a fucking wild man...into all kinds of weird fucked up shit.  You want some

pot?"

      "Fuck yeah - that's why I came by, remember?"  Keith moved to

retrieve the bong and his bag of weed while Tim moved over to sit on the

couch.  He was eyeing me curiously when he sat down in front of me.  "So

what kinda things is he into?"

      "I'm not into these things - Keith made me do them..." I knew I had

made a mistake the second the words left my mouth.

      "I don't think he was talking to you, faggot!"  I felt Keith's hand

smack the back of my head as he handed the bong and the weed to Tim.  Our

guest began to pack himself a fresh bowl as Keith continued.  "Earlier

tonight I threw a weed boner and saw this faggot drooling all over it.  I

wanted to find out what was up with that, so I put him through a few tests.

It didn't take long to find out that Sam here is one grade-A pussyboy.

Damn, dude, you should have seen him...he licked my feet and his dick

started to drool like fucking crazy.  Then the bitch started rooting around

in my sweaty balls man, sniffing them like some kinda pig.  Before I knew

it, he had my toes in his mouth and was telling me he was about to cum."

Keith sat down beside Tim.  "Well, I thought that was just gross so I

pulled him off of me and walked over to the edge of the deck to piss.  The

fucking faggot moved over and got down on his knees in front of my cock and

let me piss all over him.  He said he wanted to suck me so I let him, but

then he got cold feet after he had already gotten me all worked up, so I

tied him up and made him finish what he started.  Bitch has got a hot

throat though - took the whole damn thing down to the bush.  I had just

finished hosing him down when you rang the bell.  He begged me to taste it

man...it was the most pathetic thing I've ever seen."

      I had to protest, despite my situation; since that was nowhere near

the way the events had actually occurred.  "That's not the way it happened

and you know it, Keith."  I felt his big foot slap me across the face.

      "Shit!!!  I've never seen anything like that - he lets you slap him

with your feet?"

      "Yeah, bitch gets off on it...and to prove that what I said was true

- I've got pictures of it all."  Keith got up to get the pictures he had

been taking of me all night and knew that Tim was going to believe him over

me.  When Keith returned to the couch, he handed the stack to Tim, who had

finished packing his first bowl and had already taken a few hits off of it.

      "FUCK!!!  I've never seen shit like this before - not even in porno!

Tim looked at the pictures of me licking Keith's feet, taking his piss, and

finally his hot load before looking down at me.  "You shoot a nice load,

man.  You got him good - I can still see it on his face.  Why do you think

the fucker would lie to me?"

      "He's probably just embarrassed.  Look at his cock, Tim.  You can

tell he was getting off on it when you got here...I mean, his little pussy

prick is still hard."  I was humiliated beyond belief.  There was no way to

explain the situation and Keith's account of what had happened tonight fit

the evidence completely - even though it was almost completely false.

"Actually, I think he gets off even more over the idea that he is being

FORCED to do it.  He complains a lot, but his cock never gets soft and he

keeps saying that he is going to cum, so it's obvious that he likes it.

You should have seen his cock twitch when I tied him up."  Tim handed the

bong to Keith and continued to stare at me for a few moments.  I saw a

bulge beginning to grow in Tim's jeans, starting to snake its way down his

thigh.  He moved his foot out further and brushed his toes up against my

balls with his canvas sneakers.  My cock lurched violently, swinging a

nasty looking string of precum on the floor between my legs.  "See, I told

you man.  He's fucking into it."

      "I've never seen anything like this man - I mean, if I was tied up

naked with a guy's cum running down my chin and another guy's foot on my

balls, I sure as hell wouldn't be hard."

      "That's what I'm saying, dude", said Keith as he took another hit off

the bong and passed it back to Tim.  "It's fucking warped, but I'm not the

kinda guy to turn down a blowjob.  It's been a while for me - the bitches

are all so uptight about it and shit.  You just can't get into it.  If you

are lucky enough to talk one into it at all, they just gag over it and beg

you to fucking stop.  This guy had the whole fucking thing down his throat

and kept a hard-on the whole time.  You'd better be careful - he has a

thing for feet.  If you keep touching his nuts with your shoe, you might

get them covered in his fag spunk.  Hey, you want a beer?"

      "That would be awesome, man.  This is some wicked pot you got."

      Keith got up and brought back a six-pack, placing it on the floor

near the couch after handing one to Tim and taking one for himself.  Tim

continued to eye me suspiciously while Keith got the beers.  Both popped

the beers open and Keith returned to the sofa.

      "Go ahead and get comfortable, dude.  Stay awhile."

      "Sounds like a good idea...like I said, this weed is killer!" Tim

reached down and started to unlace his sneakers in front of me.  Keith

stopped him.

      "Why do that yourself when we got a foot-fag at our service?"

      "I don't know, man...I mean, hearing about all this shit is one

thing, letting him do it with me is another."

      "I bet he wants to do it, don't you faggot?  Tim, you don't know

this, but I saw Sam here looking at your feet when you came by here to

deliver our pizza."

      "No fucking way!"

      "Hell yeah, he was all over them even then.  He practically started

to drool.  Fuck, that's one of the things that gave me the idea to start

playing with him tonight."  He looked at me and grinned.  "I bet if you

asked him, he would even beg you to let him at your feet.  His cock is

still throbbing - actually it even looks harder since we have been talking

about those nasty sneakers of yours.  Go ahead, ask him."

      I looked up at Tim and saw that his cock was obviously hard within

the confines of his jeans.  I felt a wave of sexual heat roll over me as he

began his question.  "Is that right?  Is that what you want?  You want to

take my sneakers off for me?  You want to make my feet feel good tonight

after being on them all day?"  I glanced at Keith.

      "Don't look at me, faggot.  I'm not the one talking to you.

Actually, that's pretty rude.  Just answer his question."

      I knew I was beaten and looked up at Tim.  "Yes, I want to do it."

      "You want to do what?" asked Tim as he adjusted the straining cock in

his jeans.

      "I want to take your sneakers off for you."

      "And then?"

      "I want to make your feet feel good."

      "How are you going to do that, you sorry sack of shit?"  Keith

chuckled as he could now tell that Tim was getting into it.

      "I'll do anything you want, Tim."  There, I had said it.  At this

point, I didn't even know what the truth was anymore.  I did want to please

him, but I was also being forced into this.  I was excited and scared and

high all at the same time.  What did I have to lose?

      Tim and Keith started laughing wildly together - a kind of fucked up,

frat-house laughter that I found chilling.  "SHIT!!!!! That is SOOOO fucked

up man!  I've never met anybody low enough to be willing to do ANYTHING for

a taste of a guy's foot."  They saw my cock react when the words "taste"

and "foot" were used in the same sentence.  Keith decided to humiliate me

by pointing it out.

      "FUCK!  Did you see his fucking pussy-cock when he thought about

tasting your foot?  Damn, dude - he didn't get that hot when he was working

on mine."

      "Well, you said he was into smells and I'm telling you, mine must

reek.  These sneakers are like 5 years old and I just put on a pair of

socks I found on the floor this morning.  I didn't even have time to shower

this morning."  My cock started to bob up and down again.  I was powerless

to stop it.  It was good for another laugh.  "Looks like if I don't let him

do it, he's gonna spooge all over the place.  Go ahead faggot, take them

off - knock yourself out."  He stretched out on the sofa and placed both

feet in front of me.

      "But how am I supposed to take them off with my hands tied behind

me?"

      "You're a smart guy, Sam.  I'm sure you'll figure out something."

      There was only one choice really - to use my teeth.  I scooted back

slightly and slowly began to lower my upper body to the floor.  Keeping my

balance was a problem given that I was still tied up, but somehow I managed

to get my head low enough without yanking my nuts off.  As soon as I was

within reach, I smelled them - the sweatiest, muskiest odor I had ever

smelled was coming from his sneakers - and they weren't even off yet!  They

noticed my hesitation and chuckled some more at my continued degradation.

Moving my face even closer, I grabbed onto the end of one shoelace with my

teeth and pulled slowly, not wanting the lace to knot up.  Luckily, the

lace cooperated and I proceeded to move my mouth in closer to loosen the

laces enough for him to pull his foot out.  Try as I might; however, I just

couldn't get them loose enough.  Finally, I decide to grab the canvas in my

teeth and pull sideways to open up the shoe.  The smells were

over-powering.  As I opened up the shoe, I could actually feel the heat of

his foot rise from the confines of the dark, sweaty shoe and fill my

nostrils with his dank odor.  I could not believe that I was doing this.

As I worked, Tim and Keith just sat back and continued to smoke, drink

beer, and talk - virtually ignoring me - only occasionally encouraging me

with filthy comments.  I thought for a second about how to actually get his

foot out of the shoe and could only come up with one option - to put the

toe of the filthy sneaker in my mouth, hold on tight with my teeth and

pull.  Hopefully, I had gotten it loose enough to slide off.  Going back to

work, I grabbed and pulled.  Tim actually helped and slid his foot out of

the sneaker, leaving me with a guy's nasty canvas shoe hanging out of my

mouth.  Keith took another picture.

      "Shit man!  Congratulations!  You actually did it.  Oh, and by the

way, check out your dick boy."  I glanced down to see my bloated, juicy

cock continuing to pulse in time with my heartbeat, leaking my pre-nut all

over the floor between my legs, giving away the pleasure that some part of

me deep inside was feeling.  "Yeah, I know you like it - I can't believe

this, man - you were right.  This guy is a fucking foot-pussy."

      "Yeah, he gets off on it alright.  I don't understand it, but I'm

glad I know now.  There are so many days I could really use a good foot rub

and now I know where to get one.  It will be nice to have my own little

servant to work 'em over now and then - especially if he's gonna keep

begging for cock afterwards.  Shit man, I don't even have to keep 'em

clean!"  There was a burst of laughter at Keith's last sentence that made

me flush from embarrassment.

      "OK - One down.  Get that shoe out of your mouth and take my other

one off."  As I moved back down to repeat the procedure on his other shoe,

Tim raised the damp, sock-covered foot I had already set free up to my nose

and started wiggling his toes around my face.  I moaned audibly, unable to

control myself as the nasty smell of his huge dirty feet flooded my brain.

      "Shit, man - I've heard that sound before."  Keith jumped up from the

sofa and was behind me in a flash, grabbing my nuts and pulling down hard.

      "OUUUUCHH!  Keith, please stop.  It hurts.  STOP!"  Tim stuck his

foul sock-covered toes in my mouth to quiet me up.

      "Shut the fuck up bitch.  I got down here to make sure you don't

shoot.  Fuck, from the noises you were making, I just knew you were about

to blast.  And from the looks of things, I think I just barely got to you

in time."  He was right, of course - my cock looked like a wild creature

with a mind of it's own.  It was swollen larger than I had ever seen it,

dripping constantly from the bright red head, with veins I never knew

existed standing out obscenely.  "You just let me take care of this and you

get Tim's other shoe off."  Tim kindly removed his toes from my mouth as

Keith continued his manipulation of my nuts.  I tried to work as quickly as

possible and it didn't take long before Tim sat in front of me in two of

the nastiest off-white athletic socks I had ever seen.  You could see that

they were damp, and the smell was like an entire locker room had been

concentrated into those two small pieces of cloth covering his feet.  He

wiggled his toes and even more of the aroma was released into the air.  I

found myself breathing deeply in spite of myself and in spite of the

laughter it caused from Keith and Tim.  I looked up and saw that Tim had

removed his shirt as well and was stretched out on the couch with his arms

along the back.  He was a thin guy and his abs were awesome.  There was a

thick bush of damp, sweaty hair under each pit and I felt a sudden desire

to smell him there too.  Thinking about it caused my cock to become

painfully hard for a second and I nearly started to cry at the thought that

I would react like that over a guys smelly feet and pits.  Tim looked down

on me - he was fully stoned now.

      "Awesome little whore you got here, Keith.  You guys gonna have to

order pizza more often.  I'm surprised you were able to get both of my

shoes off so quick.  I think you deserve a reward for all your hard work.

I mean it's obvious you wanted my feet really bad - so I think I'll give

them to you.  How long do you think I should let him indulge himself,

Keith?"  Keith was quiet for a few seconds, thinking of my next

humiliation, before he spoke.

      "I think fifteen minutes should be about right...but here's the deal,

pussy.  You get to work Tim's feet over for fifteen minutes - do anything

you want with them for that length of time - or until you feel like you are

gonna shoot you nasty fag cum.  If you cum, the pictures get seen.  And I'm

not gonna help you stop this time, so if you get too close to the edge,

it's gonna be up to you to stop in time...but if you stop, you can't go

back.  This is your last chance to have some foot fun...well, at least for

right now.  So have your fun...but not too much fun.  Here, I'll even untie

your hands so Tim can feel what a good job you do with them."  He untied my

wrists but left my ankles bound with the smaller rope still attaching them

to my nuts.  I could move my arms and hands again, but still could not

stand up without ripping my nuts off.  I definitely wasn't going anywhere;

nor would I DARE use my hands to touch my own cock - that would send me

over the edge and if the pictures got out, my life would be ruined.

      I reached out and took one of Tim's feet in each of my hands and

reveled in the moisture I found soaking his socks.  Lifting each to my

face, I swallowed what shreds of dignity remained, and held each up to nose

and took a deep breath, my head spinning as the funky aroma filled my head.

I felt strong contractions in the area between my cock and balls as a new

batch of precum oozed out onto the floor.  Still, I knew that I was in

control...at least for the moment.

      "That's it whore...get into my fucking nasty feet.  Smell em good,

you fag.  Yeah, I can see your cock dancing in the air when you take it in.

Shit, just admit it to yourself and get into it..." Keith and Tim were both

into the nasty talk and were laughing at my humiliation.  Tim was

definitely hard by now and Keith had started to chub up again as well.

      My next words surprised even me.  "Can I take your socks off?"

      Keith grinned.  "Why the fuck do you want to take them off?"

      I looked up at Tim and saw that a damp spot was beginning to form

near the hard head of his cock.  "I want to see your feet, Tim.  Please let

me see them.  I want to see your toes and get closer to them."

      Tim slapped my face with one of his sock covered feet and told me to

go ahead and do it.  I wasted no time in stripping his right foot of its

acrid sock, lifting it to my nose and getting another whiff before tossing

it aside.  Tim began to openly stroke his dick through his jeans, causing

the dark, wet spot near the head to expand.  His feet were amazing - large

and strong, they were pale in color with tuffs of dark hair on the tops and

on the toes.  Each toe seemed like a work of art to me.  This must be the

drug Keith made me take, I thought to myself.  I knew I shouldn't be so

into them, but I could no longer hide it at all.  I gently stroked his

strong arch and lifted the sole to my face to sniff him bare.  My own

cock's wild gyrations increased in intensity but I felt sure I could

control it for a few more minutes.  I slipped my tongue in between his big

toe and the second and lick around, tasting his sweat.  I sucked each toe

in turn, cleaning between each one, embarrassing myself in front of Keith

and Tim all the while.

      "Why don't you do the other one?"

      I wasted no time putting down the massive foot in my face in order to

strip and worship his left foot.  Peeling down the damp sock, I rubbed it

all over my face before repeating my humiliating toe licking on his left

foot.  How long had it been?  I had long ago lost track of time.  Had it

been 3 minutes, 7, 10?  Tim lifted his right foot and held both to my face

and ordered me to breath deeply.  Just then I knew that if I failed to stop

immediately, that I was going to blast.  I remembered the pictures and

slowly put both of Tim's feet back on the floor.

      "What's the matter, faggot?"

      "Keith - uh, I have to stop now..." I felt hot and flushed, on the

verge of passing out.

      "Why?"

      "Because if I don't, I'm gonna cum..."

      "Put your hands on your head", Keith commanded and I did as he

ordered.  This new position caused my cock to stand out from my body even

more and both Tim and Keith stood up to watch the show.  I was kneeling on

the floor, my ankles tied together and attached to my swollen nuts.  Each

involuntary movement caused the nuts to be pulled away from my body.  The

impending orgasm had my hips thrusting - I could not control them.  My

entire body was sweating and shaking wildly, slinging my copious wetness on

the floor all around me.  Keith and Tim laughed and pointed, taking

pictures of my struggle.  I clenched my teeth and fought hard to will the

orgasm away and was making headway.  I was going to fight it back - I was

going to control it.  YES, there - the worst was over.  I felt one strong

contraction and looked down, afraid for a moment that I was coming.

Instead, I saw a large stream of thick, milky juice ooze out of my swollen

knob.  It wasn't cum and I knew it, but I had never seen precum that looked

that thick and nasty.  It ran down my shuddering shaft, over my balls, and

dripped off onto the floor.  I breathed deep to steady myself and looked up

at my captors.

      Keith started clapping very slowly, laughing the whole time.  "Very

well done, pussy.  I really thought you would lose it, Sam, but I gotta

give you credit - you held on.  But it's gotta suck for you that you won't

get any more feet right now.  Don't worry though, I'm sure we can find

other things for you to do that you will like just as much."

      Tim moved to stand directly in front of me and teased his cock

through the material of his jeans.  "I bet he'd like this, huh, Keith?"

      "Hell yeah, faggot loves cock.  His never even started to go soft

while he was blowing me."

      "Is that right, fagboy?  You want to see my cock?  I mean, it's

awfully close to your face right now and your own dick is still spitting

out precum.  What do you say?  You want it?"

      I was in my own little world - between the drugs, the painful hardon

between my legs, the mini-orgasm I had just had, and the hypnotic effect of

Tim's words, I just couldn't make any sense of what was going on.  I failed

to answer him quick enough and felt a sting across my face.  I hadn't even

seen that coming.

      "I already told you I would do anything you wanted."  I was

practically shouting...big mistake.

      "Don't take an attitude with me faggot!"  I felt another slap - not

hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to let me know that I was not in

charge here.  "I already know you will do it if I want you to.  What I

asked you was if YOU WANTED to do it.  Now answer me!"  He was becoming

even more demanding than Keith, who had moved back to the couch, holding

the camera.

      I did want it, but then again I didn't.  Protesting was out of the

question though; I was clear-headed enough to know that denying it would

bring even more humiliation and possibly even more pain.  I took the easy

way out and degraded myself even further.

      "Yes, I want it."

      "You want what, faggot!"  A nasty wad of spit landed on my lips.  I

let it hang there while Keith caught a picture.

      "I want to see your cock.  I want to put it in my mouth."

      "You want my cum, pussy?"

      "Yes, I want that too."

      "You gonna swallow it all down?"  I felt my cock jump again.

      "I'll swallow every drop."

      "Now there's a good faggot!  Take my cock out and show me how much

you love it."

      I reached up with my hands and unbuttoned his jeans, then slowly

lowered the zipper.  I saw immediately that he was not wearing underwear.

The smell of his hot crotch hit me like a ton of bricks.  I continued to

lower the zipper and saw his hairy, sweaty crotch.  Some of his pubes were

even matted down with sweat.  Even more impressive was the thick root of

the cock that still snaked down his right pants leg.  I started to lower

the jeans in order to free it and got smacked hard in the cheek when the

massive cock sprang free, already fully hard and wet.  While not as thick

as Keith's, Tim's cock was longer - at least by an inch.  I found myself

staring in spite of myself.  He was also uncut and his foreskin still

completely covered the head of his cock with skin to spare, even though he

was as hard as a rock.  The tip of his foreskin was completely wet from his

earlier excitement and I felt my cock drip more of my juice down the

well-lubed shaft to mingle with the rest of the fluids now on my living

room floor.

      "He likes it man", said Keith now re-filling the bong and sipping on

a beer as he relaxed on my couch.

      "Shit man, I can see that.  Look at the way he is staring at it."  I

only half heard them, so mesmerized was I by what I was looking at.  "Take

my jeans all the way off faggot.  I want to be free for this."

      I slipped his jeans further down and he stepped out of them, making

sure to put each of his feet in my face as he lifted them up.  As I looked

up, I saw Tim now totally naked and the sight made my cock as hard as it

had been all night.  I was practically drooling over the hot, thin guy who

had only hours before delivered a pizza to my house.

      "Hey, faggot.  You ordered extra cheese on your pizza.  Do you like

extra cheese on cock?"  Keith laughed uncontrollably.

      "No fucking way, man!"

      "Dude, I told you I didn't get to shower this morning and my skin is

so long it traps everything inside there...even the load I shot last night

in bed before I went to sleep."

      "Shit, I gotta get a picture of this.  You mind man?"

      "Go right ahead.  I ain't bashful."

      Keith got up with the camera and walked to me.  He tilted my head

back and opened my mouth.  "OK Tim, put your cock right over his mouth, but

not in just yet.  Yeah, that's it.  OK, now skin it back."  From this

position, I could not see his cock head, but I could sure as hell smell it

with the tip less than an inch from my nose.  It was different type of

musky smell than his feet, but no less powerful.  I saw the bright light

from the camera flashing.

      "Fuck that's nasty man!  Mine never gets that dirty."

      "I told you man.  Wanna let him clean it up?"  I tried to move away,

but didn't get far with my legs still tied to my nuts.  I did manage;

however, to catch a glimpse of Tim's nasty, cheese-covered dick.  I knew

that guys with foreskins had to work to keep them clean, but I never knew

that one could get that disgusting.  "Not so fast, faggot", said Tim as he

caught my head and lowered the tip of his drooling cock into my mouth.

"Lick it clean!"

      I nearly gagged when I felt my tongue make contact with the slimy

curds covering the head of his cock, but willed the feeling away and tried

my best to clean him up.  He started to throb in my mouth and once again I

no longer cared that I was humiliating myself in front of them.  I

repositioned my head and slid about half of his cock into my mouth.

      "Fuck yeah!  Good weed and good head all in the same night!"

      "Don't rush it man...let him work on it a while.  He fucking loves

it.  Come over here and sit back down.  You can do a couple more hits while

he gets you off."

      Tim pulled me off of his cock just for a moment as he sat back down.

I moved closer to him without even being told - which drew more laughter

from my tormentors.  Tim smacked me hard in the face a few times with his

skinned back cock, leaving more streaks of precum across my face, before

shoving my head down hard on his prick.  The nasty head slid right past my

throat and before I knew it, my face was buried in his pubes.  He held me

down and pumped his cock hard a few times before letting me up for air.

      "Shit!  Nobody has ever gone down on me like that.  Did you see that?

Keith - he took it all the way to the pubes, man!"

      "Told you he was good.  He's a natural born cocksucker if you ask me.

Hey, faggot - you got a video camera around here?"

      I was horrified, but also scared.  Keith already had a stack of

pictures of me that I couldn't afford to be seen.  I couldn't take the risk

of pissing him off.  "Yeah, it's in the bedroom."

      Keith got up and returned with the camera.  He casually picked up the

bong and handed it to Tim, who took another long drag.  I looked up long

enough to see a look of pure hatred on his face as he fiddled with the

video camera to get it started.  "You don't have to force him though - I

think he would probably work to get you off, even if you took your hands

away."

      "Is that right, faggot?  You want to get me off and swallow a mouth

full of jizz?  Go ahead man - take your time.  Make me feel good."

      I did want to make him feel good.  The smells coming off of his

crotch were driving me crazy and I started to work his cock like a maniac

in spite of the video camera.  I knew that I looking like a ten-dollar

whore at that moment, but I didn't care.  All I knew was that I wanted his

cum and I wanted it bad.

      Tim was determined to make me work for it though.  Several times

during the blowjob, he pulled me off his cock completely as Keith filmed me

begging to put it back in my mouth.  I'm not sure if it was the pot or the

beer, but it felt like I had been on my knees for hours before he tensed up

and I knew he was getting ready to shoot.

      "Shit, goddamnit fucking faggot!  Yeah, work that nut outta my balls.

Keith, you'd better get the camera ready - getting ready to hose this

fucker down good!"

      Keith moved quickly, and was barely in place when Tim grabbed me

roughly by the hair and pulled my face off his cock.  The glistening wet

piss slit was only inches from my face.  His cock was throbbing and pulsing

like crazy when he touched it with his hand to give it one last stroke.  I

was staring right into the slit when it erupted white, streaming right

towards my face.  Keith was aiming the video camera straight down on the

scene, capturing each blast as Tim basted my face with the thick fluid.

The first shot hit me directly between the eyes.  Tim's cum was thick,

white, and creamy, and shot out with unbelievable force.  I started to

groan as the second load coated my right cheek and ran down my chin.

      "Fuck!" screamed Keith "He's about to lose it!"

      Just then I felt him step on the rope that still connected my nuts to

my ankles, pulling them down sharply.  Damn!  He was going to keep me from

cumming again!  As I struggled with the pain in my balls, Tim unloaded

again - a hard shot that caught me right in the eye.  The cum burned my eye

but didn't hurt nearly as much as my nuts or my scalp, as Tim still had a

firm grasp on my hair.  I opened my mouth to scream and Tim took advantage

by unloading the next shot right into me.  "Mother FUCK! This is gonna be a

hot tape!" yelled Keith as he still stood above us filming my humiliation.

Tim then thrust his still spurting cock into my mouth and unloaded his

remaining juice right down my throat, holding me firmly onto him until he

was fully spent.

      "Shit that was awesome!"

      "Man, he's good at it - just like I said."  Keith stepped away from

the rope around my nuts just as Tim collapsed back onto the couch, pulling

my head with him, still stuffed with his cock.

      "That's right, faggot, nurse my cock now...get all that fucking cum

outta there."

      I left my mouth on his cock, while I felt it begin to shrink.  Keith

and Tim looked me over and laughed.

      "Alright, queer, I gotta go piss now."  Tim had started to pull me

off of him when Keith stopped him.

      "Dude, no reason to get up."

      A totally stoned and wicked smiled crossed Tim's face.  "You sure

man?  I ain't ever pissed in anybody's mouth before.

      "He took mine.  I think he'll take yours.  Besides, this is his

house.  He'll swallow it or else get piss all over his couch and living

room floor."  He was right.  I didn't really want to drink Tim's piss, but

I wasn't about to have it all over my couch and running around my floor.

It took him a few minutes to relax enough to start, and even then the first

few spurts were small.  I was beginning to think that it wouldn't be that

bad after all.  But just then, he relaxed enough to really get into the

flow.  My mouth was filling faster than I could swallow and some piss

started to run down my cheeks, out of my mouth and onto my throbbing cock.

I tried even harder to catch it all and did pretty well.  When he finally

pulled his limp dick out of my mouth, I had lost a lot less that I had

thought.  Looking down I saw that my own precum had made a much bigger mess

on my floor than Tim's spilt piss.

      "Damn, that was fucking awesome!  Thanks for sharing your pussyboy,

man!"

      "No problem, man.  Sam, I think you should thank Tim for helping

you out with your curiosity tonight too."

      I knew better than to argue.  "Thank you, Tim."

      "For what, fagboy? - And look into the camera!"

      "For letting me suck you.  For letting me lick your feet and take you

cum."  Keith and Tim howled in laughter.  Keith quickly re-wound the

videotape and he and Tim sat on the couch and watched it through the LCD

view screen.  I could hear the tape but not see it.  They complemented me

on such a good job.  In a really weird way, I felt good that I had pleased

him.

      Tim and Keith returned to the couch and began to pass the bong back

and forth, even offering me some this time.  They even allowed me to drink

a beer, but would not let me get off the floor.  As I was attempting to

relax a bit, I realized that in my current state, my cock would not go down

tonight until I shot - but when would Keith allow me to?

I had completely lost track of time.  Keith and Tim continued to talk

and bullshit each other, drinking beer and doing bong hits, all the while

ignoring me as I knelt tied up at their feet.  For a while it seemed as

though they had forgotten the fact that I was even there.  Finally, I

stopped even trying to get my cock to go down, knowing that after all I had

been through tonight - the drugs, the smells, the new experiences - that it

was not going to deflate until I was allowed to cum.  Keith had

successfully stopped me every time I had gotten close enough to climax and

by this time I was simply a wreck.  The area of the floor between my legs

was covered in nasty, slimy pre-fuck and still my obscenely engorged dick

oozed the slippery stuff out - even as we just relaxed and were not

actively engaged in anything remotely sexual.  I wondered for a moment just

how much pre-cum my body could produce.  The thought sent a shiver through

me and my cock lurched again, spewing out a fresh batch to mingle with the

puddle I'd already created.  Tim would occasionally, and without warning,

smear his toes in the puddle and quickly slap my cock with his slimy foot.

He had learned quickly from Keith though and never did it more than once at

a time, knowing that any more than that would send my bloated and overly

teased cock over the edge.

      "Wish we had some toys, man." said Keith, breaking the silence and

causing me to sheepishly look up at him, not knowing exactly what he meant.

Apparently, neither did Tim.

      "What are you talking about?"

      "You know, like sex toys.  I'm sure our little fag friend would love

to play for us...it would be just like Christmas morning for him."  They

laughed, sending a new shiver of apprehension through my body and another

wave of juice up the shaft of my waving cock.

      "Shit dude, there's a porno store a couple miles down the highway

from here.  We could always go get him some."

      "How about that Sam?  You wanna go get some toys to play with?  I

know you're not ready for bed yet," he teased.  He was right about me not

being ready to go to sleep, but dead wrong if he thought he was going to

make me go to an adult bookstore with him.  There was no way in hell that I

wanted to do that; however, I also knew that I would have to play this

very, very carefully if I wanted to get out of this situation with even a

shred of dignity remaining.

      "I don't think I want to do that Keith."  It was the first time I had

spoken in a long time and my own voice sounded foreign in my ears.  I

cursed myself for allowing my tone to be so submissive - I should have made

the point more forcefully.

      "Well, No way to find out except to try and I'm not going to go for

you.  You have to come too."  They both stood up and started getting

dressed.  I forgot for a moment about my current circumstances and tried to

stand up with them, nearly yanking my balls off in the process.  I rolled

over onto my side in pain as Tim grabbed him sides and doubled over

laughing.  Keith chuckled as he looked down at me.

      "I guess I'll have to take those off.  Don't even think about

touching yourself.  If you cum I swear I'll beat the living shit outta

you."  At this point, I believed him.  He untied my legs and balls and I

struggled to get to my feet, stretching the cramps out of my legs, my cock

slinging more juice as it swung back and forth.  Keith threw my onionskin

jogging shorts to me and told me to put them on.  I did as I was told and

stood there, in my own living room, hard cock leaking pre-cum into the

already thin material.  There was cum, already starting to dry, all over my

face and my thin shorts weren't hiding anything.  Keith grabbed my car keys

and told me to get my wallet.  I quickly obeyed and returned to the living

room.  They were already standing by the door.

      "OK, we're all set.  Let's go."  My stomach turned and I suddenly

felt nauseous - I couldn't let this happen.

      "Keith..." I struggled to say.  "I can't go out like this."

      "Why not?" he replied, as if it was perfectly natural to be going out

in public wearing only a wet, tented pair of jogging shorts that already

had drops of my slime emerging from the thin fabric where my stiff cock

pressed urgently against it.

      "Well...you can see me.  I mean, through the shorts.  Can't I at

least have a t-shirt or some shoes?"  A quick and particularly vicious slap

from Tim answered that question.  I was scared - whether he meant it to or

not, that last slap hurt.

      "...and he was being so well-behaved."  There was more wicked

laughter as the two of them walked towards my car, leaving me to close the

door and join them.

      Once in the car, I thought I might actually be able to get my cock to

go down, but Tim wasn't about to let that happen.  He had put his shoes on

without his socks but had brought one along for me to suck on while we

drove to the bookstore.  When I hesitated, he quickly tied the rank sock

around my head, the sweatiest and most foul smelling part right under my

nose.  It felt like the most humiliating thing yet, but then I felt his

middle finger flick the head of my cock hard.  It reared up inside the

jogging shots and belched out a river of pre-cum.  Some of it actually

pushed its way through the fabric forming a bead of slime on the outside of

the material, while the rest slid down my shaft, gathering around my balls.

He continued the flicking motions all the way to the store parking lot - by

which time, I had ruined the upholstery of my back seat.  I was literally

sitting in a pool of my own precum.  Now not only were the shorts soaked

through at the head of my cock, but even the seat was wet.  Tim and Keith

also spent the time reminding me of all the things I had already done

tonight - their feet, their cocks, their cum, and their piss.  By the time

we arrived the combination of humiliation and the painful urge to cum had

nearly brought me to tears.

      When we got to the store, Tim removed the sock from my face and

opened the door for me to get out.  Flicking the head of my cock hard one

last time, he reminded me to bring my wallet, and they started walking

across the parking lot to the entrance of the store.  I stood up and felt

the cool night air across my nearly naked body.  Staring down I saw the

mess I had made of my shorts.  I couldn't go in that store...I just

couldn't.  I froze.  Keith turned around and walked back towards me.

      "What's the matter, faggot?  Getting cold feet?"

      "Keith," I whispered, "I just can't go in there like this..." I was

choking back the tears, trying to hold on to what little of my manhood I

had left.

      "OK.  You don't have to."  I looked at him suspiciously, knowing

there was a catch.  "You just give me your wallet and I'll go inside and

buy the toys for you.  You can just sit in the car."  Over his shoulder, I

saw a group of three guys about our age come out of the bookstore,

apparently with rented videos.

      "Thanks, Keith...I appreciate that."  I handed him my wallet and

started to get into the car, trying to sit back down before the other guys

got close enough to us for them to see me.  Keith, with reflexes so quick

you would never have guess how much weed he'd smoked tonight, grabbed my

shoulder and spun me back around to face him.

      "Oh no.  In return for my generous offer, you will sit in the car

naked until we get back.  Hand me the shorts."  I stared at him dumbstruck,

the fear evident in my eyes.  The three others were already within earshot.

I didn't move.  Instead of slapping me, he leaned forward and gently

whispered in my ear, "Remember the pictures...remember the video...give me

the shorts...NOW!"

      Realizing that being naked and hard in the middle of the night, even

if strangers could see, was better than my colleagues and family seeing

those pictures, I quickly lowered the shorts and kicked them off my feet.

I tried to move towards the car, but Keith anticipated the move and shut

the door before me.  Grabbing at the handle, my bare ass in plain view, I

struggled to open the door to no avail.  Looking back at Keith, I once

again saw his evil smirk as he dangled my own car keys in my face.

Mortified, I also saw that Tim had stopped the three guys I had seen

earlier and was pointing out my predicament to them.  The sound of new male

voices laughing at me almost snapped me out of my haze...almost.

      "Shit man", screamed one of the new guys, "the frats must be at it

again."

      "Not at all, Brad" interrupted Keith, yelling over his shoulder to

the new guys.  He knew them!  The son of a bitch knew them!  "This is just

my old college roommate.  He's showing us some of the new hobbies he's

developed since we use to live together."  I stood with my back to them,

shivering from both cold and fear, not wanting to turn around, but somehow

knowing that's exactly what I would be doing soon.  "Sam, be polite and

turn around to meet my friends."  I knew better than to resist - I was

naked, I was high, and I was hard, as well as several miles from my house

without my keys.  I slowly turned around, my hard, drippy cock facing them

before the rest of me.  "That's it.  Sam, this is Brad, Kevin, and

Phillip."  I slowly raised my eyes to meet theirs - all I saw was contempt

and amazement.

      "Goddamn, Keith!  What's going on here?" asked the one called Kevin,

a tall, thin guy with scraggly facial hair.

      "Sam here had just finished blowing me and Tim and - well hell,

even licked up Tim's foot sweat when he surprised us by asking if we could

go buy some toys for him to play with tonight.  Well, he went all out for

our blowjobs, so we thought we would drive him down here and help him out."

Last time I had disagreed with Keith's recounting of events, I had gotten

hit rather hard - I didn't even bother this time.  I simply lowered my

eyes.  I stood there staring at my still bloated cock, waving in the cool

night, dripping my pre-slop all over my feet.

      "It's true, man," offered Tim.  "Faggot licked all over my feet,

putting them in his mouth and sucking my toes, almost blowing his fag

spooge all over the fucking place.  He's hot for it.  Thought I would tag

along and see what else he wants to do tonight."

      The one called Phillip walked over to me and stared at my cock.  "Why

the fuck is he so hard?"

      "Bastard can't get enough, dude" answered Keith.  "He has been like

that for hours now.  I should really go in and get him the toys he asked

for."

      "You're not gonna let him pick them out?"

      "I made him a deal with him that I would go inside for him as long as

he stayed out here naked until I got back."  The three new tormentors shook

their heads and laughed in disbelief - that any guy would let himself be

used like this was apparently beyond their ability to comprehend.  I wanted

to explain, but knew I'd only get in trouble and, quite frankly, Keith's

account of tonight's events fit the evidence before their eyes far better

than my version would.

      "We'll watch him for you if you want to go inside and get his stuff.

I mean, this is a rough neighborhood - wouldn't want anything to happen to

him."  Even though I was high, I was aware enough to recognize feigned

concern when I heard it.

      "Thanks, man - Tim, let's go."  The two of them started to walk away

and I looked up in fear.  They were going to leave me out here - naked in

the parking lot of an adult bookstore - with a group I guys I didn't know!

Brad, Kevin, and Phillip formed a semi-circle around me.  I'm sure that

their intent was that I not run away, but actually I was glad for the cover

- the car behind me and the three guys in front kept too many other people

from seeing me.  When Phillip spoke, his words dragged me from my haze and

I tried to focus on them.  He was reaching for my balls.

      "Damn, dude - this looks almost painful," he said as he grabbed at my

nuts and pulled them away from my body - gently at first but with

increasing pressure.  He rolled the swollen balls between his fingers,

separating them in the sack.  "What's that all over your face, man?"  Shit!

I had already forgotten that I still had both Keith's and Tim's cum all

over my face.

      "It's from Keith and Tim.  They already told you that I gave them

blowjobs."  I was immediately sorry for my attitude.

      "Don't you get fucking arrogant with me, dude.  Fuck! I'd never admit

to having cum on my face - even if it were the truth!  I would say that

they spit on me, or that they raped me, or something.  I'd be begging to be

rescued from those two perverts while they were gone.  Is that it?  Did

they rape you?"  Here was my chance.  Maybe I could get help.  If it

backfired on me though the consequences could be severe.

"No.  They didn't rape me.  I didn't mean for it to happen like this, but

they didn't rape me."  He yanked down hard on my balls in their sac and my

cock performed its ritual dance and throbbed up and down, dripping more

precum from the swollen slit.  A large glob landed on his wrist.

      "What the fuck!  Don't you lose your faggot load on me!"  He raised

his wrist to my mouth.  "Lick it off!"  What choice did I have?  I opened

my dry mouth and stuck out my tongue, licking my own pre-nut off his wrist.

      "Actually, I think we'd be safer if we made him turn around."

suggested Kevin.  "That way if he loses his nut, he'll shoot on his car

instead of on one of us."  The others agreed and I felt hands turning me

around.  My hard cock slapped the cold window of the right rear passenger

door, leaving a trail of nasty, not-quite-clear pre-cum all over the glass.

      "Shit - I don't think I've ever been that turned on before,"

whispered Brad.  I could feel their eyes on my body, looking me up and down

with contempt.  A new wave of fear ran through me as I realized that I

could no longer see what they were doing.  "What kind of toys are your

buddies in there buying for you, faggot?"

      "I'm not sure."  It was the truth.

      "Keith said you asked him to come here.  You must know what it is you

wanted...unless you are calling Keith a liar."  I knew I was being set up.

If I said that Keith was lying, they would surely tell him and I was afraid

of making him mad again.  I improvised.

      "No, I just mean that I know he will pick out something I like."  The

statement left a bad taste in my mouth.

      "You must trust him a lot, faggot, to let him pick out toys for

you...not to mention showing your stuff off like this.  And all this shit

about you licking Tim's feet?  Did you really do all that stuff?"

      "Yes sir."  I'm not sure where the word "sir" came from.  These guys

were certainly no older than I was...but somehow it seemed the right thing

to say.  I was mistaken and I knew it as soon as I heard their laughter.

      "Shit, guys, did you hear that?  Fucker called Brad 'SIR'!"

      "Hey, faggot, has Keith or Tim had a crack at your ass yet?  Looks

pretty ready to go if you ask me."  A shudder ran through my cock at those

words.  The thought honestly hadn't crossed my drugged out mind.  What if

Keith or maybe even Tim was planning on taking this even further!  What if

they intended to do THAT to me!  Up until just then I thought Keith was

simply getting off on humiliating me - maybe enjoying a hummer or two.  I

took too long answering them and felt a hard smack across my ass.  The

smack pushed my dilated cock against the window again, smearing even more

of my juice over the glass.  "Answer me now, pussy!"

      "No.  They haven't done that to me!"

      "Yeah, but I bet you'd let them..." he shot back, his voice sounding

almost disappointed.  "I mean, anybody low enough to suck feet and let two

guys empty their nuts all over your face would take it up the ass."  They

continued the lewd comments for a few more minutes, occasionally

punctuating one with a slap across my ass before I heard Keith and Tim

approaching.  My newest captors walked away, leaving me exposed, looking in

the bag Keith was holding.  I heard a new round of chilling laughter as

Brad, Kevin, and Phillip looked at the merchandise Keith had purchased for

me.  Tim finally broke in through the laughter and made an offer.

      "Keith, I may be out of place for mentioning this and if you don't

want to share, I'll understand - but maybe these guys would like to see the

show Sam was going to put on for us tonight.  We got plenty of weed and

beer back at the fag's house.  I say we make it a party!"

      "Fuck yeah!  Good idea, buddy.  What do you say, guys?  I know it's

getting kinda late, but Sam wouldn't mind if you guys just crashed at his

place tonight.  Want to see what our boy here can do?  We can watch the

movies you rented, relax, smoke some weed, and let Sam here play to his

hearts content.  I'm sure he wouldn't mind - would you, Sam?"  What could

I say?

      "No Sir - they can come over if you want them to."  I heard some more

laughing and a high-five or two and suddenly the door was being opened for

me.  I was thrust roughly into the back seat and once secured again with

the sock, as Keith and Tim got into the front.  We waited a few seconds for

the others to get to their car, apparently so they could follow us back to

my house.  What the hell had happened...what was going on tonight?

      Keith only spoke to me once on the drive back to my house, and that

was only to tell me that I had better not embarrass him in front of the

other guys.  He warned that if I didn't play along that there would be hell

to pay and reminded me of those damn pictures once more.  He really didn't

need to though - my cock had totally taken control of me now.  Even though

I wasn't really sure I wanted to do just anything Keith could come up with,

I knew for sure that I needed to cum and that pleasing him was the only way

that I was going to be able to accomplish that tonight.

      We pulled up to the house and Keith got out to open the door as Tim

led me inside with his foul sock still tied around my head.  I heard the

doors slam on the other car as Brad, Kevin, and Phillip made their way

inside.  I was directed to the floor in the middle of the room where I had

sat captive before, my puddle of precum still not quite dry.  I knew I

would be adding more to it soon.

      The guys took up various seats around my living room as Keith ran to

the kitchen and returned with a six-pack of beer.  He handed them out, even

giving one to me after roughly removing Tim's sock from my mouth.  I

actually appreciated the drink, as my mouth and throat were bone dry from

the XTC he had given me earlier.  I didn't notice at the time that mine was

already open.

      "Sam, you can relax for a while.  Remember, this is a party.  You

don't have to sit in that uncomfortable position" said Keith, after handing

me my drink.

      "There he goes again with that 'I'm your friend - I'm your enemy -

I'm your friend again' routine", I thought to myself.  He was becoming more

unpredictable with every passing hour.  I got up and off my knees, which

were beginning to hurt, and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the

sofa, my balls resting in the puddle of pre-cum I had spewed out earlier in

the night.

      "Thanks, Keith." I managed to say between sips off the beer.

      "Just don't fucking touch your cock.  You remember the rules, right?"

      "Yes, I remember.  I won't do it."  I was actually so thankful to be

comfortable once again that I didn't care how embarrassed I was to be

sitting naked in my own living room in front of five other guys, while

being told what I could and could not do.

      Tim grabbed the bong and the bag of weed and proceeded to pack a nice

bowl while the guys bull-shitted about various things, acting oddly

oblivious to my condition.  We all sat in my living room for at least an

hour, getting higher and drunker every minute.  I didn't speak unless

spoken too - that wasn't a rule, but I guess I was trying to hide in a way.

I mean from the way they were ignoring me, when I wasn't speaking I didn't

feel quite as embarrassed and humiliated.  I tried to forget about the

throbbing in my cock, but it was like the proverbial elephant in the room -

something everyone noticed, but no one talked about - and my iron spike of

a cock just wouldn't go away.  As I sat there on the floor, it gave me a

chance to look over the new guys more carefully.  Brad was the most

clean-cut looking of the group.  He was blonde and well shaven, even for

this time of day.  He looked like one of those guys lucky enough not to

have to shave every damn day.  He stood up once while we were all sitting

there talking, and I noticed that he was about my height and build.  He was

wearing a t-shirt and khaki shorts with some Nike cross-trainers on his

feet.  He wasn't wearing socks.  His legs were covered in thick but short

blonde hairs that looked soft to the touch.  Kevin looked a little rougher

than the other two - actually, he looked a little bit like Tim.  With dark

hair that was pulled back into a ponytail, the features of his face looked

hardened, almost mean.  He kept a rather serious expression on his face the

entire time we sat in the living room; glaring viciously at me occasionally

- as if he were sizing me up.  He was probably wondering how much of

Keith's story was true - did I really want to do all these things, or was I

being taken advantage of?  I got the impression that he really didn't care.

Of the three, he definitely appeared the most ominous.  He wore only a tank

top and some blue sweat pants that had been hand cut-off at the knee.  His

feet were covered with a pair of black Converse All-Star high tops,

obviously worn from years of use.  He sat with one arm over the back of my

couch and I could clearly see the mass of thick hair sprouting from his

armpits, matted down from his pit-sweat.  As I looked him over, he reached

for his second hit off the bong, and I thought to myself that he must not

be wearing underwear.  The outline of his cock and balls was clearly

visible through the material of the sweat pants.  My own cock lurched and

begged me to touch it as it belched out fresh batch of pre-fuck.  I berated

myself for looking and felt humiliated that I was getting more turned on,

waiting for Keith to noticed my new wetness.  He grinned at me when he saw

it but said nothing.  Phillip was the first one of us to actually show the

effects of the weed and alcohol, as he spilled his second beer all over

himself and my couch.  He jumped up and staggered around for a moment as we

all (myself included) laughed at his drunken state.  For a brief moment, I

forgot how uneasy I felt - it was like being at one of our old college

parties.  Keith spoke to him.

      "Dude, get outta those wet clothes.  I mean Sam is being pretty

kind to let us party here tonight.  You shouldn't be sitting on his good

couch in wet jeans."  I barely made out Keith giving me a quick wink.  Only

Tim and I noticed.

      "I guess you're right man."  Phillip sat his mostly empty beer down

on an end table and pulled his shirt over his head, stretching as he did

so.  My nuts tightened in their sac, actually clearing the hard wooden

floor for a second when I saw the chest on this guy.  Phillip was a

redhead, but his chest was smooth and firm - without a stray hair or

freckle to be seen.  His chest was at least as well developed as Keith's,

possibly more so.  He had only been wearing a pair of ragged shower shoes

and he casually kicked those off in my direction as he fumbled with the

button on his jeans.  The others laughed as he staggered around, trying to

pull them off - nearly falling down in the process, but I just sat there

mesmerized.  He lowered them off over a pair of white jockey underwear that

were stained in several places.  They were even torn on the right side just

underneath the waistband and since they were wet, they left little to the

imagination as to what they contained.  Pulling the jeans off over his

massive feet, he gathered them up with his t-shirt and just tossed them

into the corner of the living room before sitting back down, his feet

coming to rest just a few inches from me.  I closed my eyes as my cock

started swinging again and heard Keith and Tim snickering at my

predicament.  When I had regained my composure, Brad was packing a new bowl

and Keith had left to get more beer.

      That's when I noticed a new sensation washing over my body.  It was

like nothing I had ever experienced before.  It was almost as if I was

outside my own body, looking down at the activities going on in my living

room without actually being a participant.  I knew exactly what was going

on but was having trouble focusing on the individual events or their

meanings.  I felt vaguely nauseous, but just thought I had finally drank

too much.  Keith's voice shook me from the stupor.

      "You OK, little buddy?"

      I struggled to find words to answer him, and squinted hard to try and

sort out what had become a collection of double images in a hazy, spinning

room, but I just couldn't find the words to respond to him.  I nodded at

him, knowing that he hated it when I did that and fought hard to speak.

"I'm OK, just a little woozy."

      "He's not going to get sick is he?  You promised us a party!"

commented Kevin from his seat in the middle of the couch.

      "Nah, I just gave him a roofie.  Sometimes when they first hit the

person will feel a little nauseous - it will pass though and then our

little party boy will be a lot more cooperative."  From my growing haze, I

made out various grins and nods from the guys, but the conversations were

growing more distant.  My sensory world was becoming completely disjointed.

I thought for a second I would pass out, but it never happened.  The room

was spinning freely now and in an attempt to slow it down, I focused my

eyes intently on the nearest thing to me - Phillip's enormous feet.  God,

those things had to be at least a size thirteen.  I don't think I had ever

seen such a large pair.  I noticed small tufts of his red hair sprouting

from each toe and I wondered if they would feel the same way in my mouth as

Keith's did.  I have no idea how long I stared at them, but heard laughter

when I felt drool start to run out of my mouth and down my chin.  I saw my

own spit slide out of my mouth and land on the impossibly tight skin of my

cockhead - still drooling spit of it's own out onto my floor.  I wanted to

touch those feet in the worst way.

      "Shit man, he's fucking out of it!" yelled Brad, or maybe it just

seemed like he was yelling.  I noticed movement and fought to stop staring

at Phillip's feet.  Keith grabbed my shoulders and turned me around towards

the television.  He had hooked the video camera up and was rewinding the

tape that was still inside.

      "Sam, I'm just gonna show the guys the tape we made earlier with

you and Tim.  That is OK, isn't it?  I mean you don't mind do you?"  Even

though it felt like my answer took an eternity, I just grinned at him

stupidly and told him to go ahead.

      "You're feeling pretty good now aren't you, Sam?"

      I looked up as he cupped my chin in his hand and heard myself slowly

moan my answer - "Fuck yes - shit, I feel so good."

      As the tape started, Keith walked behind me with the rest of the

guys, I heard a lighter click and smelled cigarette smoke as we watched

together the tape of me cleaning off Tim's nasty, crud-covered cock and

taking it down my throat.  My cock was screaming at me to stroke it but I

just couldn't - not because of Keith's rules (actually, I was so turned on

I would have risked the beating to get myself off), but because the drug

had me so fucked up I could barely move.  Phillip grabbed my shoulders and

pulled me back until I was resting against the sofa between his legs.

Looking down at his feet sent my cock crazy with lust.  It was pumping

wildly now with every beat of my heart, basting it's shaft and my balls

with a flood of pre-cum.  My pubes were matted down in a nasty mass of

hair, dried pre-nut, and the fresh stuff that was literally pouring out of

my dick.  I was aware of very little else while the homemade porno played

and if the drugs hadn't made it so damn difficult to concentrate on the

same thing for more than a second at a time, I am sure I could have brought

myself off just by thinking about it.  I noticed movement behind me and was

aware the some of the guys were stripping.  I wanted to look but couldn't

tear my eyes away from the images on my own television set - of Tim gagging

me with his cock, long strands of white spit hanging from my mouth as he

pumped me.  I heard Tim speak.

      "Keith, this is about the place in the tape where I shoot.  You'd

better make sure the faggot doesn't blow."

      "Shit!  You're right man.  I nearly forgot."

      Keith moved down and picked up my limp body under the armpits and

carried me to his chair.  Spreading my legs, he sat me down on his knee and

directed my unstable head back towards the television.  As his knee pressed

into the area between my balls and my ass, it exaggerated the pressure in

my cock, causing it to swell to proportions that until then I had thought

were impossible. He began to bounce me up and down on his knee - gently at

first - sending my cock bouncing along with the rest of me, slinging more

of my copious juices all over my living room.  One large glob landed

squarely in my face and I stuck out my tongue to try and gather it into my

mouth.

      "Slut is fucking nasty!" observed Kevin as he watched my torture with

more attention than I liked.  I was close to a massive orgasm and everyone

in the room knew it.  By now, though, I knew better than to get my hopes

up.  Keith wanted the other guys to see me ride his knee to another violent

edge while I watched myself getting hosed down with Tim's cum and I knew it

was unlikely that he would allow me to get off.  Just as the video showed

Tim pulling out and scumming my face with his nasty nut, Keith reached

around and squeezed my nuts hard.  They were so wet that his fist slipped

on the first attempt and I screamed out in pain.  He was more careful the

second time and latched on firmly, pulling them up and away from my body.

Out of the depths of me, I found words to object.

      "FUCK!  Keith, please let me cum.  You promised it would only be a

couple of hours.  PLEASE!  You know I'll do anything you want.  I'll even

do it after I shoot.  I won't stop or disappoint you.  I promise.  Just

please, please...for God's sake, please let me cum!!!"  The other four guys

were staring at me, astonished by my pleadings with Keith to let me get my

nut.  Slowly, their foolish expressions were replaced by wicked grins that

I had seen before on both Keith and Tim - I knew then that this was far

from over.  Somehow, I found the strength to start swinging my arms wildly

in a futile attempt to get away.  I was too fucked up; however, and Keith

easily restrained me, holding both of my arms behind my back with a single

one of his own.  I fell into whimpering as Keith continued to Bronco rock

me closer and closer to the edge.

      "Tim," Keith said while still holding me tightly, "you and Brad go

over there and get the table from the kitchen and bring in here.  Put it in

the middle of room."  They had a difficult time retrieving it in their

drunken condition, but eventually they managed to place my small kitchen

table in the middle of the living room.  The table wasn't large at all, but

since I lived by myself and rarely had guests over, it was all I had ever

needed.  Keith quickly launched me forward and I landed stomach down the

flat surface.  He looked at the others.  "Hold him down for a second."  I

felt four sets of hands easily restrain my nearly useless body while I

vainly struggled to free myself.  Keith stretched my hands forward and tied

each off to the legs of the table closest to the television before moving

behind me and securing my ankles to the back.  The table was the perfect

length to stretch me out tightly, bent at the waist at a ninety-degree

angle - with my head hanging unsupported over the far end.  My neglected

and stubbornly hard cock had gotten caught by the edge of the table and had

slipped underneath it - instead of being caught up against my stomach; it

was pressed painfully down by the edge of the table and was now pointing

directly at the floor, continuing to flow freely despite the sudden change

in my treatment.

      Keith walked around to the front of the table and lifted my head with

a single one of his massive hands.  He was shaking his head at me; and

spoke to me in slow, deliberate words - like a parent would speak to a

five-year old child.  "Now Sam, you are being very ungrateful.  I made a

promise that I would show you and our new friends here a good time tonight

and all you can think about is yourself.  That is really rather selfish if

you ask me - wanting to cut the party short."  Kevin let out a maniacal

laugh and was quickly joined by the others who were obviously waiting to

find out what would happen next.  "If I remember correctly you also

promised to put on a little show for us with the new toys I bought for

you."  Shit!  By this time I had forgotten all about the trip to the

bookstore and whatever horrors Keith had in that little black bag of his.

"What do you say, guys?  Ready for Sam's big performance?"

      Keith's question was answered with a chorus of rowdy comments, all

ready to see the next level of my humiliation.  Keith's next sentence was

actually spoken to Tim, but he made certain that I was looking directly

into his eyes as he said it.  "Tim, get me the bag."

      A nerve-wracking chorus of enthusiastic comments quickly filled the

room as it exploded into activity.  As Tim was retrieving the bag, the

other three moved over to stand near Keith.  When he returned, I could now

see all of them towering above me, my chin still held firmly in Keith's

secure grip.  All three of the new guys were obviously boned-up by this

point and Phillip's worn jockey's could barely contain his excitement.

Keith made some sort of gesture to Brad, who quickly grabbed a handful of

my hair and pulled, not painfully, but with just enough force so that Keith

could release my chin without my head falling.  Keith wanted me to see

this.

      He reached into the bag and pulled out a device that I had never seen

before.  It consisted of a series of black leather straps - the largest of

which looked like a miniature belt - complete with a buckle.  Dangling from

the largest and thickest strap were two smaller ones with metal rings

securely sewn into the free ends.  He placed the contraption under my nose

and I smelled the fresh leather.  "Do you know what this is, Sam?"

      Somehow, I managed to spit out my answer.  "No...I've never seen

anything like that before."

      "It's a ball stretcher, my friend.  You are gonna fucking love this

thing.  You see, I take this big strap and buckle it around the top of your

sac and it will push your nuts out away from your body.  Remember the way

the rope around your nuts felt like when you gave me and Tim our blowjobs

earlier?  Well, this will feel mostly the same.  It will help keep you from

blowing your dick-snot all over the place and it will keep me from having

to constantly monitor you.  Best of all, I bought of bunch of these..."  He

pulled out a number of large items that looked like the sinkers fishermen

use to keep the bait under water.  "I can hook these onto the smaller

straps to see how much you can take.  I bought ten pounds worth of them -

but I'm not sure if we will use them all - at least not all at once."  I

was speechless as he held the devices up before my eyes.  His expression

indicated that he was pleased at my shock and proud of the control he had

over me.  "Brad, you wanna do the honors?"

      "Hell, no.  I don't wanna touch his fag balls.  He's been dripping on

them all night."  Phillip laughed and gave Brad a friendly punch in the

shoulder.

      "I'll do it..." It was Kevin.  Oh, God no.  Not Kevin.  My mind was

flooded with memories of the way he had been staring at me since we arrived

back at my house.  He took the strap device from Keith's hand and was out

of my range of sight in a flash.  I felt his strong hand encircle my nuts,

pulling them lower and lower in the sac.  Then I felt the leather being

wrapped around the upper portion.  I closed my eyes and tensed up

momentarily when he tightened the strap, wincing as he secured the buckle.

I knew I was dripping onto the floor when he grabbed the loose, dangling

straps and started yanking up and down on them gently.  An involuntary moan

escaped my lips.  Keith smiled.

      "Told ya' you'd like it."

      "Hey Keith, how 'bout some weights" asked Kevin, still bouncing my

nuts within their new home.

      "Well, we really should start small."  He rummaged around inside the

bag and pulled out two of them, reached over my back and handed them to

Kevin.  "Those are the smallest ones - only half a pound each - they'll do

the job until he's ready for more."

      I felt each one as Kevin attached them to the free ends of the

dangling straps.  When he had finished, he gently started them swinging.

Goddamn! How could I be enjoying this?  The pain was relatively mild, but

the humiliation was extreme.  Yet here I was - bound to my own kitchen

table, in my own house, by an old college roommate and four other guys I

had just met tonight.  I was high, horny, and cum-deprived.  The swinging

weights between my legs caused my over-inflated cock to belch wildly.  I

could almost envision the way my piss-slit must have opened up just then to

allow what must have been a massive strand of pre-fuck to empty out of my

cock with a splat onto the floor below.  I started moaning again - only

mildly aware of the five wolves circling me - intensely aware of my need to

shoot.

      "Goddamn!" I heard Kevin cry out.  "You guys gotta look at this

shit!"  Brad released my hair so quickly that my head simply flopped

forward off the edge of the table.  The others joined Kevin behind me.  I

opened my eyes and discovered that I could see under the table from this

position - in fact, I could see everything - including what the guys had

gone to get a look at.

      There, pointing straight down at the floor, with it's base pressed up

hard against the edge of the table, was my obscene, bloated cock.  It

squirmed and moved almost as if it had a life of it's own, pulsing and

moving with my heartbeat and in time to the internal contractions that had

by now been growing in intensity for some time.  I saw the bottom of my

ball-sac, stretched almost as far down as the head of my inflamed cock,

with two weights swinging in independent and random patterns.  The most

amazing thing; however, was the long and completely unbroken strand of

pre-cum that ran from the glazed head all the way to the floor, where it

had already formed a small puddle about an inch in diameter - and growing.

The strange cock I was viewing pulsed again and I saw the strand thicken

slightly with the new weight of another bead of my pre-fuck pouring out

into it.  The thickened portion slid down the strand to the floor, like dew

sliding down a spider's web, expanding the puddle but never breaking the

link to its source.  "My god," I thought to myself, "I have become a

complete pervert.  How can I possibly be this turned on by this?"  Someone

jiggled my nuts slightly, just enough to watch my cock spit at the floor

again without breaking the strand.

      "Fucking wild, man!" shouted Tim so loudly that I worried people back

in town might have heard him.  "Dude, Keith, you gotta get this shit on

video, man!"

      Keith didn't have to be told twice.  He picked up the camera, set it

to record and focused it on my pulsing cock.  He and the others spent about

five minutes teasing it and watching it drip into the ever-expanding puddle

growing between my bound legs.  I tried to stop watching, but found that I

simply could not tear my eyes away from my own captive dick.  When they

were ready to move on, Keith put the camera up on a tripod, left it on

record, and joined the other guys who had already returned to the side of

the table where I could see them.  He grabbed my hair once again and lifted

up my head so he could talk to me.

      "Don't worry little buddy - I got some other toys for you to play

with too, but it's gonna be a long weekend...remember, it's Memorial Day

weekend.  Believe me - you'll remember it.  But now that we've got you on a

slow simmer, I think it's time for the rest of us to get in on your little

party.  I'm telling you, Sam, your little slut show has gotten us hot as

fuck.  I'm sure you'd be willing to help us out with that, wouldn't you?"

      A new emotion - one that I had not yet felt tonight - began to

overtake me...rage.  I was angrier than I had ever been in my entire life.

I was being used.  All I had wanted was to get re-acquainted with my best

friend and roommate from college over a relaxing long weekend, but his

visit had now degenerated into a freakish, back-room rape.  I would be

goddamned before I would go willingly now - especially in front of a live

video camera.  Up until this point, my cooperation was based on the

assumption that Keith would eventually let me cum.  I knew now that he was

not going to let that happen.  Whether it was the drugs, the alcohol, or

the rage, I forgot about the videos, I forgot about the pictures, forgot

about Keith's unpredictability, and forgot about my current vulnerability.

I cleared my throat to speak, inadvertently gathering up a large wad of

spit in my mouth.  Angered beyond words and without thinking about the

consequences, I launched it right up at Keith's face!

      There was only a split second before my own face exploded in pain as

Keith's open hand collided violently with my cheek.  This was by far the

most intense pain I had felt this evening.  "Ungrateful fucking cunt!" he

yelled into my face as he quickly wrenched my head backwards, glaring

menacingly into my eyes.  He lowered his face to within inches of my own,

pried my mouth open with his other hand and spit directly into my mouth

with such force that I felt the wad hit the back of my throat before

beginning its descent into my gut.

      "Fucking gross!" yelled Brad as he watched the scene unfolding.

Kevin was somewhat less surprised.

      "Yeah Brad, but the goddamn bitch deserved it.  He spit first."

Kevin barely moved, but from where he was standing hurled a foamy wad of

his own directly at my face.  His aim was good.  It caught me on the bridge

of the nose and continued forcefully upwards, running between my eyes,

streaking across my forehead.

      "Fuck yes!  Hey, guys, watch this," said an enthusiastic Tim, as he

positioned himself above me, tilted his head forward and simply let the

spit slide out of his mouth.  He kept this up for several seconds, working

more and more juice out of his mouth, letting it fall over my face like

icing on a birthday cake.

      Phillip and Brad had backed up several feet and were laughing

hysterically as Tim decorated my face, which was still stinging intensely

from the force of Keith's blow.  "Hey Brad, you think you can hit him from

here?" asked Phillip.

      "Hell yeah!"  Tim backed away to give the guys a clean shot and Brad

cocked his head back and spit hard.  He missed my face completely; the shot

landing on my bare shoulder with an audible "splat" and sliding

disgustingly down my bound arm.

      "Dude, you gotta hit his face, man - here do it like this..." Phillip

breathed in noisily through his nose and made a loud, guttural noise from

deep in his throat before launching his wad.  He was dead on - the gross

projectile hitting me squarely between the eyes.  He and Tim exchanged

drunken high fives and offered Brad another attempt.  His second was more

accurate than the first and I felt another glob of wetness land just

underneath my lower lip, where it slid lazily down my chin and hung

precariously for a few seconds before slipping off onto the floor.

"Fuckin-A, man - now that's the way to do it!"

      Keith, who was still holding my head upright, lowered his face to

within inches of mine.  He was the only one of my tormentors not laughing.

      "You just fucked up big-time, slut!  No fucking faggot pussy ever,

and I mean EVER pulls that kinda shit on me.  Now, I've been more than

accommodating for you tonight.  Letting work out your curiosity and

freakish desires on me - hell, so has Tim.  We let you lick our feet, you

got to taste our piss, and we even let you throat our cocks until you got

what all you faggots live for - cum running down your pussy throats all the

way to your stomach."  He clenched the back of my head tighter.  "And how

the fuck do you repay us?!!  By spitting at me?  Is that it?  Up until now,

I've known that part of you wanted to be our little party pussy and part of

you didn't, so I've been trying to make this so that you would at least get

a little pleasure out of it yourself.  But you know what?  I don't fucking

care if you have a good time now or not.  It's gonna be a long weekend,

Sam - and by the end you'll either be broken in or just plain broken.

You decide how you want to play it."  He turned his face towards the four

other guys, who had become ominously silent as they listened to Keith's

diatribe.

      "You guys feel like spending the whole weekend with me and Sam?"

      Tim was first to answer, his enthusiasm barely contained.  "I'm

supposed to be delivering pizza's tomorrow, but dude, I'm calling in sick

for this."  He looked around at the others.  Kevin, Brad, and Phillip

stared at one another for only a minute before expressions of pure,

demented glee washed over their faces.  Kevin answered for the group.

      "We were headed out to the beach for the holiday, but, you know, the

hotels don't offer the kinda 'services' I think we'd get here."

      "Yeah, and it would be a hell of a lot cheaper" added Brad.

      "Well then," said Keith, "it's settled then.  Sam, you're gonna get

to fag out all weekend with the five of us.  How's that sound?"

      I felt like my entire world had come crashing down around me - but

even through the haze of drugs, alcohol, and the ever-rising level of

hostility being directed at me, I was learning.  Every time I had tried to

pull back, to stop the events unfolding in my own house, I experienced

pain.  On the other hand, during my moments of cooperation, when I let

myself give into to what I was being made to do, I was allowed to

experience pleasure.  I was still unwilling to admit consciously that I

enjoyed any of this, but that mental struggle could wait - I could sort out

these events later.  At this moment, I needed to behave like a lab rat in

an experiment - avoid pain, amplify pleasure.  Nothing else mattered.  I

cleared my dry throat and spoke.

      "Let's just get started."

      The room exploded with sounds of enthusiasm that reminded me vaguely

of a locker room after a big win.  Tim and Brad ran to the kitchen for

another round of beer while Phillip and Kevin eyed me hungrily. Keith

released my head from his vice-like grip and walked slowly and deliberately

over to the video camera, removing it from the tripod and attaching some

cables directly to my television.

He then walked over to me and flipped the switch.  "Hold your goddamn head

up!"  I did as he commanded and was shocked at the sight that greeted my

eyes.  There, displayed on my own TV, was my own face.  I barely recognized

myself.  My face was covered in large globs of thick, foamy spit and a

huge, red handprint was etched on my cheek - underneath the thin, delicate

lines of spittle that Tim had dribbled all over me.  One particularly nasty

glob was gathering weight under my chin, hanging on by a thread, waiting to

join the other body fluids soiling my floor.

      "That answer of yours didn't sound very convincing, Sam.  I might

have let it slide earlier - but that was before your little 'incident'.  I

think we have a right to expect a little more enthusiasm from a guy who is

just about to have his dreams come true."  He let the words hang there for

a moment, adjusting the focus of the camera until my abused face filled the

picture of my television set, while the other guys started on a new round

of beer and another bowl of weed.  Once he was satisfied with the picture,

he spoke only one word...

      "Beg!"

      The chorus of catcalls from behind me nearly drowned out my first,

weakly spoken - nearly whispered "please".

      "Oh, you will have to do better than that."

      "Yeah, come on, bitch...tell us what you want."  I recognized the

voice as Kevin's and assumed that it was his foot that kicked the weights

pulling on my balls, setting them to swinging again - and reminding me that

I was still hard.

      "Please," I spoke a bit louder than the first time, "I don't know

what to say."

      "Just tell me what you want to do."

      "I want to cum."

      "No - wrong answer!  You want something else", Keith corrected.  "You

found out some things about yourself tonight, didn't you?  Earlier, out on

the deck, what did you discover that you enjoyed?"  My head was swimming -

I felt like I was going to pass out.  I tried to remember - to think

clearly.

      "I liked looking at you naked."  When I spoke, the glob of spit

hanging from my chin was shaken loose and landed loudly on the floor.

      "What in particular did you like about that?"  I though back to that

moment and remembered my fascination when I first saw Keith's cock slowly

swell and throb out on the deck, it's massive head trapped within the

confines of his tight foreskin.

      "I liked watching you get hard."  The guys behind me were trying to

contain their laugher.  The room was spinning.  The smell of weed was

filling the room again.  The weights on my balls were set to swinging once

more - harder this time.  I felt my cock begin to spasm again.

      "What made that hot for you?"

      "I'd never seen an uncut guy get hard before.  I was curious about

it."

      "Oh, come on, Sam.  You were more than curious, weren't you?  When

you saw it start to throb and get all thick, you wanted to do something to

it, didn't you?  What was it that you wanted to do - that thing that you

wanted to try?"  I swallowed hard, trying not to cry.

      "I wanted to touch it."

      "And you did."

      "And I did."

      "Dude, you got him fucking leaking all over the floor again, man!"

Kevin interrupted.  Even without looking, I knew he was telling the truth.

      "And were you right, Sam?  Did you enjoy touching it?"  My cock

lurched violently in anticipation of the coming confession.

      "Yes - I liked it."  I saw my own face on the television, but felt

like it was a stranger making the admission.  For some reason, that thought

comforted me - making me bolder.

      "What exactly did you like about it?  Describe it for us."

      "I like the way your foreskin slides up and down.  I thought it was

hot the way it could come all the way back up to cover the head even when

you were hard."

      "Anything else you discovered you liked?"

      "I liked the way you smelled."  Tim started laughing so hard that he

nearly choked on his beer, spitting it half way across the room.  I even

saw Keith break character and grin smugly from behind the video camera.

      "But you knew I hadn't showered today.  I had been on the road

getting here.  Man, I was way past ripe this afternoon, but you still liked

the way that I smelled?"

      I nodded.

      "You know I don't like that, Sam.  You've got a voice so use it."

He was enjoying showing off his complete control of me.

      "Yes - I liked the way you smelled even though you were dirty."

      "Tell me, Sam...did you know that a guys feet could get you hard

before this afternoon?"

      "No, I've never really thought about it before."

      "But once you went down on mine you did get hard, didn't you?"

      "Yes."

      "And your cock started leaking a lot more, didn't it?"

      "Yes, doing that made me really wet.  It might have been the pot

though."

      "I don't think it was the pot, Sam.  Now be honest - your little

cock would have started pounding if you had been stone cold sober, wouldn't

it?"

      "I wouldn't have been doing it if I had been sober."

      "That's not what I asked you.  Let's just pretend that you would have

done it sober."  Kevin swung the weights again and I winced as my cock

continued to drool.  "Do you think that you would have thrown a rod?"

      "Probably."

      "What was the best part about them - my feet, I mean?  What did you

like the most?"

      "The smell."  Tim added more weight.

      "I thought so.  Tim knows how much you like feet, too, doesn't he?  I

mean, when he got here you were all over his stinking shoes and those nasty

socks of his, weren't you?"

      "Yes."

      "In fact, I think I recall you asking him if you could work on his

nasty feet?  Is that the way you remember it, Tim?"

      "That's fucking exactly how it happened.  Shocked the hell outta me,

man, but I thought 'What the fuck - my feet hurt'.  May as well let the

faggot have some fun and get a massage out of the deal."

      "Wait a second - I just remembered, didn't you have to stop touching

Tim's feet because you thought they were about to make you shoot your

fag-wad all over the place?"  Tim jiggled the new, heavier weights and the

camera caught my face in an expression of mixed pleasure and pain.  The

contractions were becoming more intense and coming more frequently now.

      "Yes, Keith, I had to stop or I would have cum."

      "Then I would have to say that you enjoyed it.  Tell me, did you

enjoy Tim's feet better than mine?"  I thought carefully for a moment

before I answered.

      "Yes."

      "Tell us why, Sam."

      "They...they smelled...sweatier."

      "I see.  Well, back to the whole point of this...you need to beg us

before we are going to do anything.  You've already admitted to a couple of

things that you like.  So why don't you start begging.  Make it good now,

and you might actually get something you'll enjoy."  He was right of

course.  I had already admitted it - on video no less, with four other guys

listening.  I needed to get this over with.

      "Please, Keith.  Please I wanted lick your feet again.  I'll lick

Tim's feet, too.  Anything you want."

      "Not anything I want, Sam.  This has to be what YOU want."

      "I want it, PLEASE - God, Keith - I am BEGGING you please let me lick

them.  Maybe if you don't want to, Phillip would let me do his.  Or Kevin.

Maybe Brad.  I'd do all of you, but please...Keith..."  My voice became a

whisper before I continued.  "...I need it."

      I suddenly became aware of the silence that filled the room.  There

were no snickers, no laughing, no playful, punchy comments - only a silence

that hung in the air as thick as the smoke from the bong.  Keith had

recorded every moment of my confession, including the humiliating

culmination of my begging.  He zoomed the camera in even closer on my

disgusting face and made sure the focus was good before he broke the

silence.

      "No - I don't think so - no more feet for you tonight.  Maybe later

this weekend, that is if we can find the time."  He motioned to someone

behind me, before zooming back out again.  "Phillip, your up."

      It took only a second for Phillip to position himself in front of me,

his stained jockeys tented out massively.  In an awkward maneuver, he

reached in the side and pulled his already pulsing cock and active nuts out

of the right side of the rank underwear.  It was pointing directly at my

open mouth.

      "Hold it right there, Phil.  Let me get this damn thing focused."  I

could no longer see the television as Phillip's massive body had completely

blocked my view.  What I could see; however, was his engorged and angry

cock staring me right in the face.  It emerged from a thick bush of unkempt

red pubes and was laced from top to bottom with heated, bulging veins.  The

shaft tapered slightly as it neared the large, swollen head.  As Keith

finished adjusting the camera, Phillip gave it a hard squeeze from the base

and pearl of clear liquid flowed from the open piss-slit and rolled

sloppily down the shaft.  "All set.  Go to town, man."

      He slapped my face with the thick cock five times, thoroughly wetting

it with the spit still on my face before it even made it into my mouth.  I

didn't struggle - it all seemed so pointless now.  Seconds after I opened

my mouth, the large, slimy head was lodged in my throat.  Phillip didn't

fuck my face, at least not at first.  He just wanted to watch me swallow it

- and to see me hold it down.  Securing the back of my head with one hand,

he pushed - harder and harder - never giving back an inch of the ground he

was gaining, never backing off for a second, until finally I smelled the

familiar scent of crotch and the scratching of pubes against my nose.  He

pushed in hard one last time and I gagged, causing him to pull it out

quickly and slap my face hard twice before my nose was buried in his sweaty

bush again.  The gagging had caused my mouth to produce an unbelievable

amount of mucus, which was running down both my chin and Phillip's balls as

he began an earnest throat fuck.

      "That's the way, Phil", Keith encouraged.  "That's his third blowjob

tonight, man.  He don't need any more practice.  Just give it to him hard."

      "Goddamn this feels good!  Fucking plowing your face, bitch."  He

adjusted one had around my throat and knew that he was getting off on

feeling his cock pass again and again beyond the back of my mouth.  "Fuck

yeah!  I can feel it going all the way down man.  I've never had one this

good before!  FUCK!"

      As the other four encouraged and Keith filmed yet another homemade

porno with me as resident bitch, Phillip arrived at the edge of no return.

"Oh FUCK! FUCK! Shit...Goddamn it, fucker - you gonna pull the cum right

outta my balls.  Shit, get ready pussy!  Here...it...comes!!!!"  He held my

head tightly and slammed into my face once more before becoming completely

still.  My throat expanded in time with his throbbing cock, which was now

pumping his dick-snot deep into my throat.  I wasn't fully prepared for him

to begin shooting and attempted to breathe in during one of his shots,

sending the cum down the wrong way and causing me to cough and gag

uncontrollably.  Phillip hardly cared; however, and continued to hold me

roughly until his orgasm was completely finished.  When he pulled out, he

did so quickly and I caught a glimpse of myself on television, coughing,

wheezing, and spitting up cum.

      "Fucking nasty, man!!! I've never seen anything like that before.

Keith, you could make a fortune selling this tape!" observed Kevin.

      "Fucking pussy sure can take a dick though, guys" replied Phillip,

who simply left his cock, still dripping the remnants of his orgasm,

hanging out of the side of his filthy briefs and walked over to grab his

beer.  "Who the fuck is next?"

      "Dude, it's my turn," said Brad.  "I am so ready for this."

      Brad had long since removed his t-shirt but was still wearing his

khaki shorts and Nike cross-trainers.  He quickly fumbled with the button

on the shorts and let them drop to his ankles.  I noticed that although his

cock was not nearly as long as any of the other three I had already taken,

it was thicker than any of them.  It jutted out from his blonde pubes like

an iron poker.  His earlier quiet demeanor evaporated quickly as he wasn't

interested in a deep throat fuck.  He stuck his steely hard dick right up

to my mouth and grabbed my hair, pulling my face up to stare into his eyes.

      "Listen, fuck-puppet!  I got sweet spot on my dick right under the

slit, you see.  I want you to stick your tongue out and lick right on the

spot until I shoot, you understand?  I'll help you find it, but I'm not

gonna do your work for you like Phillip just did.  You're gonna get me off

and I'm not gonna do a damn thing, you got that?"  I hesitated.

      "Bitch didn't answer me.  Kevin, give him some more weights."

      "God! NO!!! I'll do it Brad.  Kevin, please don't...ahhhghhh" There

was more wicked, hellish laughter filling the room and I could clearly see

the pain on my face as Keith filmed Kevin adding even more weights to my

balls and setting them to swinging between my legs.  I stuck out my tongue

and touched the cockhead in front of me - as close to the spot he described

as I could.

      "A little lower, bitch...yeah right there.  That's the spot, now you

just keep licking and I promise you'll get a good load outta these balls

tonight."

      I worked my tongue feverishly as the guys behind me kept the ball

weights in constant motion.  By this point, I actually felt as though I was

having an extended orgasm.  The muscles in my crotch were contracting over

and over again, trying to push the cum out of body without success.  It was

the most pleasurable and yet the most agonizing experience I had ever felt.

The cock receiving my tongue treatment was beginning to lube up itself - I

could taste it begin to flow freely from Brad's slit.  The spot he liked to

have teased so much was directly underneath the opening where his juices

poured out, so every drop that he squeezed out flowed directly onto my

tongue.  His cock was beginning to jump around, almost leaping away from

me.  It would pulse up and then land on my nose or cheek and I would have

to fight to find the spot again.  Once more, my view of the television had

been obscured, but from the comments I was hearing, it must have been a

sight.

      "Shit - fucker is really getting into it man!"

      "Goddamn, I've never seen anybody that into cock."

      "Guys, this one is a natural", added Brad, who had released my head

and was truly letting me do all the work now.  I knew better than to stop

and kept up the tongue job Brad was so obviously enjoying.  "OK, you are

getting me close, fucker.  When I shoot, I want you to just keep tonguing

that same spot - don't you dare fucking stop until I pull my dick away from

your mouth, got it?"

I nodded my head, not breaking the rhythm of my tongue motions for a

second.

      "Oh God, yeah, here it comes, keep doing that.  Yeah just that way."

The cock was bouncing around like crazy now and it took a lot of effort to

keep my tongue flicking back and forth over the spot that Brad loved so

much.  "Yeah, fucker - I can feel it coming...get ready.  Don't stop."  His

cock shuddered violently, and without anything to hold it steady, pulled

away from my tongue and nearly pointed straight up at the ceiling.  My

eyes, which were no more than three inches from the leaky, wet head, saw

the piss-slit open wide and throw a hot, massive explosion of cum clear

over my head.  I felt something searing and wet land on my ass and knew

that Brad's cum must have not only cleared my head, but arced high and

forcefully enough to completely clear my back as well, landing just above

the crack of my ass and sliding down into the crevice.

      "Jesus fucking Christ!" yelled Tim.  "Keith, please tell me you got

that on tape!"

      "I think I lost the top of the arc when he shot, but his ass was in

the frame when it landed."

      The force of that first shot caused a rebound effect and, combined

with the weight of Brad's thick dick, made the cock swing back down, where

my tongue once again caught it and flicked his sweet spot.  It surged again

and spewed the second shot right into my mouth.  The third slung a wad of

gooey slime up my forehead, where it ran down into my left eye, stinging

like a mother-fucker.  I kept my tongue working though, wringing out three

more good sized shots from the cock shaking in front of me.  By the time he

had finished and backed away from me, my face was covered in his

dick-slime.

      "Hell fucking YES!!!!" he screamed.  "If my girl could do that, I'd

never leave her apartment."  He was already walking away from me, allowing

me to see the thick goo deposited on my sticky face.  It was the nastiest

thing I'd ever seen and as I zoned out watching the strange, warped image

of myself on the television, I only half heard Tim talking to Kevin.

      "Hey, I know I've already had a turn tonight, man...but do you mind

if I go next?"

      "Be my guest man, I can wait."

      "Hold up just a minute," said Keith.  "I wanna get a shot of

something."

      He took the camera and moved out of my range of vision, but I could

see what he was pointing the camera towards.  He was moving towards my ass!

"Tim, grab his ass cheeks and pull them apart."  I was mortified as I

viewed Tim spreading my ass wide and saw the huge first shot that Brad had

slung over my shoulder, sliding slowly down the crack of my ass.  The wad

stopped momentarily, gathering in the slight depression of my hole, before

its weight forced it to continue its downward journey, sliding over the

leather strap confining my nuts, and then slipping off the weights that

hung below.

      "Mother FUCK!!!" yelled Tim.  "That is the nastiest thing yet, man.

Hey, faggot, you got cum dripping outta your ass and you ain't even been

fucked yet!"

      I saw a finger emerge in the picture of the television - I think it

was Kevin's, but I can't be sure.  It gathered up a bit of the juice still

clinging to my hole and pushed its way in, taking a large, white glob of

the fluid with it.  He didn't push it in far, actually just up to the first

joint, but the sensation set off a reaction in me that was not lost on any

of the guys present.  I started moaning and bucking my hips as hard as I

could.  I needed to feel the cum shoot out of my balls and I knew that this

was my moment.  Pushing back on the invading finger as far as my limited

mobility would allow, I was determined to get myself off.  Kevin

immediately recognized what I was attempting; however, and immediately

withdrew the finger, leaving me panting and huffing like a bitch in heat.

Familiar laughter filled the air as Keith rewound the tape a few seconds

and we all watched the brief finger fuck several times.

      "Please - guys, I'm doing what you want me to do.  Please just let me

cum!"  I was nearly hysterical with lust, the muscles between my legs

actually beginning to cramp from the repeated contractions.  Keith was not

amused with my pleadings.

      "Tim, go shut the faggot up."

      He wasted not a second before filling my mouth with his nasty uncut

cock for the second time that night.  He wasn't interested in finesse this

time; however, as watching his buddy's use my mouth had gotten him worked

up beyond anything he'd ever known.  He was filling my mouth with another

load of cum barely before I had built up a good rhythm, slinging another

cum-meal down my aching throat.  When he pulled out, a nasty string of cum

and spit hung in the air, connecting his cockhead with my lips.  Keith

relished filming a close up of the fluids as I gasped for air.

      "Fucking-A!!!" was all Tim had to say after his second orgasm of the

night.  He shook his cock against my face, causing the cum-spit bridge to

break.  The nasty slime now hung in loop, dangling from my lower lip.

"You're up, Kev!"

      When Kevin moved into position in front of me, he was still wearing

his cut-off sweats.  "I hear from your little 'confessional' that you like

uncut cock.  Is that right, faggot?"

      Blowing a bubble of cum and spit from my mouth so that I could speak,

I replied meekly, "Yes".

      "Then you are gonna fucking love this one, dude."  He slowly lowered

the sweats, teasing my eyes and causing my cock to spew another large glob

of pre-nut into the large, slippery puddle between my legs.  When the

waistband cleared his cock, I let out an audible gasp.  His cock was the

most amazing thing I had ever seen.  Still completely soft, it dwarfed the

throbbing dick between my own legs that was causing me so much pain and

pleasure.  But the size was not the only feature that amazed me - his

foreskin was so long that well over an inch hung limply from the end of the

bulge that I knew signified his cockhead.  A silvery strand of precum hung

from the bunched up folds at the tip of the skin as he slid the sweats off

over his feet.  He then unlaced his foul canvas All-Stars and slid them off

as well, placing a sweaty shoe on either side of my head, and then standing

back up to simply let me drink in the sight of him.  The smell of his

sneakers, combined with the drugs, and the intensity of my own lust got the

better of me.  Keith sensed it, too, and zoomed the camera in close to my

face as I prepared to let go...

      "I need it..." I whispered.

      "What did you just say to me, faggot?"

      I cleared my voice to speak more clearly, not caring anymore that the

video camera was directed right at my face.  "I need it..." I repeated.

      "Damn!  That's what I thought you said" he answered as he very slowly

slid his hand up and down the length of it, pumping out more clear fluid in

the process.

      "I want to taste it."  I couldn't believe the words that were coming

from my mouth, but I didn't care anymore.  I would deal with the

consequences later.

      "You must really want it to be talking that kinda trash to me.  What

if I don't like my bitches to be quite as slutty as you?"

      "Please, Kevin, whatever you want.  Just do it...I'll be anyway you

want me to be, just please, let me taste it."  The room went quiet and I

knew that I had surprised everyone - except for maybe Keith.  Fuck!  I had

even surprised myself.

      "You must really want what's gonna come outta this dick to be begging

for it like that.  Is that it?  You wanna something to come flying outta my

cock and fill your mouth up?"

      "YES!!!! Fuck yes.  I want that...exactly that.  Please,

Kevin...please don't tease me anymore."  The pent up emotions within me

came flooding out, my pleadings all caught on tape.

      "Well, remember...You did beg for it."

      Just then, he placed his still mostly soft cock within an inch of my

open and now waiting mouth...and stopped.  I held still, hoping that he

would put it inside me, let me suck him, let me run my tongue under his

foreskin...experience the same kind of taste I had with Keith and Tim, but

he just stood there, leaving me unfilled...until the first warm shot of his

piss came flooding out.

      Keith was ecstatic.  "Kevin, you're a fucking pro, dude!"

      The first shot of his cock spewing piss into my waiting and willing

mouth caught on camera, Kevin now felt free to push the soft and still

flowing cock into my mouth.  I closed my mouth around it and began to

swallow.  He had caught me off-guard, but at that moment, I needed the cock

in front of me, no matter what kind of juice he was slinging.  Kevin

reached down and used one hand to pinch off my nose, cutting off my

air-supply.  I continued to drink from his cock until the piss was coming

in short spurts that he was obviously pushing out.  I had managed to drink

almost the entire load when he pulled out and pushed the final couple of

shots into my face, Keith filming the entire scene.  I was beside myself as

he finished up.

      "Kevin, please let me suck it!!!" I begged.

      "Sorry, dude," he replied as he slapped my nasty, piss-yellow face

with his floppy, skinned dick.  "Blowjobs just aren't my thing.  Don't

worry though; I'll fuck you later this weekend when Keith decides it's time

to.  But that's all you're gonna get for now."

      I screamed at him like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum as he

pulled his sweats back up to his waist.  "No fucking way!!!! Please, Kevin,

GODDAMN IT!  Please let me suck it!"  A hard slap to the face that sent

piss, cum, and dangling spit flying off in all directions brought me back

to the hard reality that I was not in control.  I hung my stinging,

dripping face in shame and did not speak another word that night.

      "Hey, Keith," interrupted Tim.  "You gonna let him shoot tonight?  I

mean, it's starting to look kinda painful."

      "Hell no!" came the response I partially expected.  "He'll be a lot

more cooperative tomorrow if he is still all strung out."  He turned off

the video camera and set it on the floor near his feet.  "Well, I don't

know about you guys, but I'm beat.  Sam's got a nice house here...make

yourselves at home.  Find a place to crash and get some good rest.  It's

gonna be an awesome weekend."

      The guys filed out of the room, leaving only Keith and me for a

moment.

      "You did real well tonight, Sam.  Well, except for that little

incident when you spit on me.  All in all though, I think you are well on

your way."  He grabbed a throw pillow off of the couch and placed it

underneath my sloppy face.  "Now you sleep well tonight.  I have a lot of

things planned for you tomorrow and neither of us will enjoy them as much

if you're not rested."  I briefly thought to ask him if he planned to leave

me on the table all night, but realized the utter stupidity of that

question.  Ignoring the continued throbbing in my cock and trying to remain

still so as to not swing the weights attached to my balls, I lowered my

face onto the pillow, listened to Keith leave the room, and closed my eyes

as he cut off the lights.

As my mind slowly shook off the clouds of semi-consciousness the next

morning, I became distinctly aware of someone pulling on the weights that

were still connected to my now aching and sore balls.  "Oh God," I thought

to myself, "they are already starting it up again."  I was appalled when I

realized that my cock, which never had the luxury of pumping out a load

last night, was still rock hard, throbbing, and leaking continuously -

although now it was more from a desperate need to piss rather than from

sexual stimulation.  Suddenly, I felt the band securing the weights to my

nut sack loosen and fall to the floor with a clatter that shattered the

relative quiet.  The sudden release of the pressure was almost as painful

as the entire night of confinement and swinging.  I moaned involuntarily

from the pain - my eyes still tightly shut - and heard a familiar, though

muffled laugh.  It was definitely Keith; by this point, I had memorized

that laugh.  I felt his hands fumbling with the ropes that bound my legs to

the small table.  After those ropes were removed, he maneuvered around to

the front and proceeded to release my arms.  Even after being freed from my

restraints, I found it difficult to move - my muscles tired, aching, and

stiff from the night before.  I avoided looking up at Keith - shamed beyond

words for the events of the previous evening and feeling the anger well up

inside me once again.  He gently tapped my face and spoke.

      "Come on...get up.  And be quiet - I don't want to wake the others

yet."

      I complied with his instructions as best I could as he helped me off

the table.  I nearly fell when my bare feet made contact with the not quite

dry puddle of my own slippery pre-jizz that covered the floor beneath where

my cock had been positioned.  I stared down in horror for a moment as I

realized that I had actually made that mess.  Keith saw my expression and

grinned.

      "Yeah, little buddy," he whispered, "That all came outta you last

night.  You should be proud - that's quite an impressive amount of juice."

      He gently put his hand on my back and directed me down the hall,

turning me when we reached the bathroom and closing the door behind us.

      "Thought you might like to piss and get cleaned up."

      I nodded and stood over the toilet trying to aim my still mostly

stiff cock down towards the bowl.  It was difficult to grip, given how

slippery it had become, but after a few moments of straining, I finally

managed to push through a weak stream. I realized immediately that the

fluid was at first mostly unspent pre-cum before it gained strength and

became a torrent of hot, burning piss.  I let out a sigh at the release of

pressure and my dick finally became fully soft for the first time since

this entire nightmare had begun.  Keith moved beside me and started the

water for the shower, letting it warm up as I finished pissing.  While he

was doing this, I glanced at the mirror over the sink and froze where I

stood.  I looked like hell.  Dried cum and spit were all over my face,

having grown crusty overnight.  I opened my mouth to move my facial muscles

and felt the disgusting splotches crack and peel, pieces of which fell on

my hand as I held my dick and squeezed out the final few drops of piss.

Keith stood up and directed me towards the shower.

      "Take your time, Sam.  I'll be back later with a towel."  He exited

the room, closing the door behind him.  I could hear his footsteps walking

down the hall towards my linen closet as I climbed into the shower.

      The water felt amazing on my tired, sore, and completely filthy body.

As I lathered up I thought about the events of the night before.  I

remembered how Keith had arrived at my house for the long Memorial Day

weekend and how his cocky attitude had been apparent from the moment he

walked through the door.  I remembered how we had smoked pot and relaxed

together, how I had envied his body, and how we had ended up naked together

on my deck.  Things had gone from bad to worse after that.  I had given him

a foot massage last night and had gotten a bone from it.  Goddamn!  Why had

I done that?  If I had not let my cock get the best of me - if I had been

strong enough not let it make my decisions for me, then maybe it would

never have gone this far.  My hands slipped the soap between my legs and

massaged my sore balls (which seemed to hang somewhat lower than usual)

with the warm lather.  I remembered how Keith's attitude towards me had

deteriorated even further as the night went on, how he became more and more

demanding.  He had even pissed on me out on the deck before bringing me

back in the house and forcing his cock down my throat.  My throat!  His

best friend and roommate from college had been forced to his knees in his

own living room and had sucked him off, even begging for his cum by the

end.  Fuck!  What the hell was going on with me?  I remembered how my cock

had refused to stop throbbing and pumping out cock snot even when Tim, our

pizza delivery guy, had stopped by, how I practically drooled over his feet

and very nearly shot a load of my own while I massaged and licked them all

over.  My cock plumped noticeable in my hand as I recalled these events,

and even though it begged me to stroke it, I refused.  I simply could not

accept that I was getting hard again by just thinking about these things.

I thought more about how the night had progressed from there - that I had

been caught on video taking a huge load straight out of Tim's dirty

cum-crusted cock, that I had been taken to the parking lot of an adult

video store where we met Brad, Kevin, and Phillip.  I shuddered as I

remembered how they came back to the house with us and my torment

continued.  My cock had completely hardened by now but I tried to ignore it

as I cleaned the dried evidence of my slutty activities off my face.

Goddamnit!  Why won't my cock get soft?  I didn't want Keith to come back

and see me like this and knew that I needed to jerk off quickly if I was

ever going to get it to go down but didn't want to do it with these images

in my mind.  I had to get control of myself.  It was wrong...wasn't it?

Shit!  I needed to decide.  Keith would be back soon and this was getting

me nowhere.  Reaching down, I put a soapy hand over my cock, which by now

looked as if it was having some kind of seizure, jumping wildly and sending

out a thick stream of pre-cum, clearing a path down the soap-covered shaft.

"Thank you God," I thought to myself, knowing that my release was only

moments away.  I was going to cum...I was finally going to get the nut I

had so desperately needed last night.  Just then, Keith startled me by

opening the sliding glass door of the shower stall.

      "You just can't keep your hands off that thing, can you?"  I simply

stood there dumb-founded, caught completely off guard.  I had nearly fallen

down when he opened the door and was clutching the wall of the shower with

one hand and my throbbing, unfulfilled cock in the other.  I was there - on

the edge of a cum that felt like it wanted to push my entire insides out of

me.  I wanted to shoot but it was as if his very presence was suppressing

my orgasm.  "What are you thinking about?"

      That did it.  I knew I couldn't cum now and simply released my cock,

hearing the slippery thing slap my abdomen hard, and grabbed the towel he

was holding out for me.  "Nothing," I lied with a sizable amount of venom

in my voice.  "I was just horny.  I am most mornings."

      "Yeah, that happens to me too.  Jerking in the shower does usually

take the edge off.  Don't you want to finish?"  It was an unexpected

offering and I have to admit that I considered taking it - but I just

wasn't sure if I could trust him.  He was probably just trying to embarrass

me again, to bait me into another trap - but what if he really meant it?  I

was too confused to take any new risks this early in the day.

      "That's OK.  I'll be fine."

      "Suit yourself.  Go ahead and dry off and put the towel around your

waist.  We need to talk."

      By the time I was completely dry, my cock had only softened slightly

and it made an impressive bulge in the front of the towel hanging around my

waist.  Keith led me back through the house and out onto the deck, closing

the door quietly behind us.  It had to have been mid-morning already and it

was unseasonably warm and extremely humid for this time of day.  Keith sat

on one of the chairs and motioned for me to join him.  As I sat down, I

noticed that Keith had apparently raided my underwear drawer as he was

wearing a clean pair of my boxers.  He offered me a cigarette and a cup of

coffee, which he brought out onto the deck while I was in the shower.  I

accepted both and tried to relax somewhat, leaning back in the chair, as he

started the conversation.

      "Sam, I think I owe you an apology."  I nearly choked on my coffee,

certainly not expecting those words from him.  There was an awkward

silence, like he was waiting for me to say something, but I was such a

jumble of nerves and varied emotions at that moment, that I chose to remain

silent, afraid that anything I said would simply make things worse.  "I

mean, about last night...I think that maybe things got a little out of

hand."  There was another pause this time longer.  My instincts told me

that I was being lured into a trap and I was actually feeling a little bit

of control in my cold silence.  "Damn it, man! Say something!  I'm trying

to apologize."

      "Keith, I don't know what to say," I replied, not looking up from my

coffee.

      Keith lowered his head, and it appeared that he was trying to gather

his thoughts.  For a brief moment, I actually felt sorry for him.  Whatever

he was trying to say was obviously difficult for him.  "Listen, Sam, last

night...I mean..."  He wasn't even looking at me now.  He either was

extremely distressed or deserved an academy award for the performance he

was giving.  "...I was wrong to make you do all those things, things I know

you wouldn't have done if I hadn't pushed you so hard."  This was so unlike

Keith.  His sentences were broken, almost incoherent.  With every word, my

anger towards him was lessening and I already hated him for it.  Perhaps

even more than I hated the things he had done to me last night.  Now he was

making me feel sorry for him - FOR HIM!  He looked up at me and his eyes

drilled directly into my soul.  "You are the ONLY real friend I've ever

had."  His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, but I don't think that

anyone other than me would have even noticed it. He chuckled to himself in

a self-deprecating manner as he continued.  "There, I've said it.  You are

the only person I've ever met who has the patience to put up with me."

      I was without a good response...speechless.  He had, with only a few

sentences and some emotion - feigned or not, taken all the wind from my

sails.  I felt as though I was the one who needed to make him feel better

and at that moment I despised him for that.  "Keith, that's ridiculous...I

mean, that's bullshit...you've got other friends.  People used to come by

the dorm room all the time to see you.", I said, brushing off his attempts

to make me pity him.

      "...and all those people just needed a source for pot.  Think about

it, Sam.  Anytime I needed something important, who was it who helped

me?"

      "Well, we were roommates for four solid years, Keith.  I knew you

better than anyone else."

      "And when I got in trouble and needed to move back, who decided to

take me in?"

      "Keith, that's no big deal.  You knew you'd be welcome here."

      "That's right.  I did.  But what you don't know is that I called five

other people before I called you and none of them wanted to have anything

to do with me.  Most of those people you remember coming by the dorm room

have either gotten married or are so into their jobs that they wanted to

stay as far away from me as possible.  You are the only one who would let

me stay."

      I sighed and rolled my eyes, uncomfortable with this show of emotion

from Keith.  "Jesus, Keith!  What do think friends do?  You needed a place

to crash and I had one.  Big deal."

      "We WERE friends.  Now I'm afraid I've fucked that all up."  This

conversation was not headed in the direction that I had prepared myself

for.  Keith was showing genuine vulnerability.  As torn as I was about the

events of last night, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him now.  Every

wall that had gone up last night was being torn down.

      "Well, I'll say that what you did certainly didn't help our

friendship," I replied as coldly as I could, though I realized that I was

letting go of my anger.

      "I just thought...well, when I saw how turned on you were last night

that maybe you wanted to do those things...that maybe you would enjoy them.

I guess it could have been the pot or the beer, but I could have sworn that

you were enjoying yourself.  Please tell me that I wasn't completely off

base.  You did enjoy some of them, didn't you?"

      "Keith, I don't want to think about it right now," I said.  "In fact,

I'd rather forget the entire thing ever happened."

      "Come on, I feel really bad about it...more than you could know.  And

I'll feel even worse if you didn't have any fun at all last night.

Look...there is no video camera out here now and none of the other guys are

here.  It's just you and me...remember, old college buds.  It will make me

feel a hell of a lot better to think that at least some of the things we

did last night were fun for you."

      "For God's sake, Keith, I don't know why I should be trying to make

you feel better." I said, rolling my eyes and setting down my coffee cup.

After a long pause, a pause that I hoped he would fill, I continued, "OK,

when we first started last night, I was having fun.  I don't know why - and

I've never done anything like that before - but it was kinda fun.you know,

different.  You just took it too far."  I thought to myself that I had made

a nice save.

      "You gotta realize that I was just thinking about you.  I heard that

some guys really get into doing those kinds of things and that sometimes

the best thing for them in the long run is to just go with it.  You know

you don't have any control over what gets you hot, none of us

does...really, and when I saw how you just stayed so fucking horny, even as

I pushed you further and further, I just thought that you were enjoying it

deep down inside.  Maybe, I just wasn't thinking...I'm sorry that I didn't

think it through."

      "My dick might have gone down if you had let me cum," I replied,

squirming in my seat, still uncomfortable with the direction of this

conversation.

      "You gotta admit though, if nothing else, that staying hard for that

long was hot as fuck.  I mean, I wasn't lying to you last night when I told

you that I really like doing that myself.  I've gotten really good at

making it last a long time."

      "Yeah, but you are in control when you are doing it yourself.  You

were forcing me to keep it so close and then forcing me to back off."

      "Well, first of all, I don't think anybody can 'force' another person

to keep a hardon...that was your doing.  I gave you a lot of drugs last

night, but I never gave you any Viagra or anything like that.  If anything,

with all the drugs and beer, it should have made it MORE difficult for you

to stay hard.  And second, nobody has enough control to be able to last as

long as you did last night without help.  When I first started trying, I

could only go about 45 minutes - MAX - and then I would blow all over the

place."  He paused for a moment.  "You gotta admit though - that part of

last night was hot."  He looked up at me and flashed me that shit-eating

grin that always stole my anger away.  Goddamnit, why did he have this much

control over me?

      "Shit, Keith," I paused, buying time, feeling as though I was

treading water - on the verge of going under, as I looked out over the

deck.  "Yeah, I admit it.  OK, it was hot.  My dick has never felt like

that before."  I felt my cock pulse strongly one time underneath the towel

as it began to lengthen once more.  The inside of my thigh was already

beginning to get wet as my juices started flowing again.  I am sure that

Keith noticed the movement underneath the towel, but was relieved that he

chose not to comment on it.  It was beginning to feel as if I was his

friend again...that we might actually be able to put all this behind us.

      "I'm glad that I got that right...at least.  With all the other

mistakes I made last night, it's nice to know you enjoyed something, even

if it was just that one thing."

      "You need to stop being so goddamn melodramatic," I said as I reached

for another cigarette.  "...and, just for the record..."  I paused, not

knowing if I really wanted to finish that sentence.

      "What?"

      "Nothing..."

      "No, really, I want to know what you were going to say."

      I took a deep breath and exhaled audibly before saying, "Just for the

record, I enjoyed more than just that one thing."  There, I had said it.

What the fuck was going on?  Just fifteen minutes ago, I was ready to kill

him, and here we were, sitting out on my deck like the best of friends

again.  I was uneasy about letting down my guard, but had to admit that

this felt an awful lot better than the anger I was feeling earlier.

      "Like what...exactly?"  I had known that was coming and was mentally

prepared for it, but I still didn't want to talk about it.

      "No, man, let's just forget it.  I can forgive you for all that shit

last night, but I really don't want to talk about it anymore.  Let's just

leave well enough alone."

      "Oh, come on, Sam.  Humor me.  Besides, I think I know which parts

you liked."  I looked up into that fucking awesome grin of his and just

melted in my chair.

      "Oh, really, smart-ass!  Just what would those parts be?"  My cock

twitched again and belched down my thigh in anticipation of what he was

going to say.

      "Well, I can't really say that I understand it...and I'm not judging

you, but you really did get off on our feet last night.  I mean the way you

went down on mine and Tim's...and the way you almost shot while licking his

toes...I mean, it was pretty obvious, man.  And you can't tell me that you

weren't looking at those other guys feet either - I watched your eyes all

night long.  I'm right, aren't I?"  He moved one of his bare feet over to

me and gently rubbed my calf with it, nearly reaching my knee before I

pushed it away.

      "I guess I can't really deny that," I chuckled in response.  "I guess

it was pretty obvious.  And I can't explain it either.  I just don't know

why that got me so turned on."

      "Hey, sometimes you gotta just stop asking why and just go with it."

      "Whatever," I said flatly, hoping that would be the end of it, but

somehow knowing he wanted to push it further.

      "Tell me something you absolutely did not like."

      "You want the whole list or just the top ten?"  Keith laughed but

pressed me again to know.  "Well, I didn't like it when you pissed on me.

I mean that was just gross.  And I didn't like being tied up like that - it

was uncomfortable being stretched out on that table like that...and I can't

believe you left me tied up like that all fucking night."

      "If it hadn't been so uncomfortable would you have minded being tied

down?"

      "Yes!...I don't know.  I mean you didn't have to do that."

      "What do you mean?  Didn't have to do what?"

      "I mean...shit, Keith...as high and horny and fucked up as you got me

last night, you know I would have done it without being tied up."  It was

as if someone had given me a fucking truth serum.  Jesus Christ!  Why the

hell was I admitting all this?  And why the fuck did it feel OK to be

admitting it.  And most importantly, why was my cock now pointing straight

up underneath the towel while I made no attempt to hide it?  I could tell

that Keith was beginning to fill out the boxers he had stolen from my

drawer as well.

      "No way, man!  You were resisting the whole time."  He was giving me

a way out.  I hadn't expected that and knew that I should take it while it

was on the table, but I had started down the road now and just couldn't

bring myself to start back-pedaling now.  After another awkward pause, I

continued...

      "I'm telling you, Keith, I really think I would have given you guys

blow jobs without the ropes."  I couldn't believe the words that were

spilling out of my mouth, admitting to a man that I had hated only fifteen

minutes ago the most embarrassing thing I could think of.  Somehow it

didn't seem so difficult to do without a video camera filming my every word

and a gang of horny guys circling me like vultures.

      "Goddamn!  So I really didn't completely fuck up last night.  So, are

we still friends?  I can leave if you want me too - after last night, I

would understand if you wanted me to get out of your house."  I rolled my

eyes at the sheer stupidity of that question.

      "We are still friends, Keith - and you don't need to leave."  Keith

gave out a sigh of relief and smiled at me.

      "Well, I gotta go get rid of those guys.  We were all pretty wasted

last night so I thought I'd let them sleep in, but I guess it's time for

them to go."

      He started to get up to go back in the house and I saw just how much

our conversation had gotten to him.  He was completely hard inside those

boxers and he reached inside to adjust his bone as he turned towards the

door.  I felt a strand of goo pump out of my own cock into the fabric of

the towel.

      "Wait!"  He turned and looked back at me, but I never saw his face.

The skin-covered head of his dick was pointing up and peaking over the top

of the waistband of the boxers, where he had trapped it to keep it from

sticking straight out.  I lost my train of thought as I stared at it.  I

swear I must have looked like a starving dog.

      "What?", Keith asked impatiently.

      "Why are you sending them home?  I mean, I thought they were going to

stay with us for the weekend."  Keith bent at the waist and laughed hard.

      "That was when they thought you were going to be our little party

slut all weekend.  I have no intention of putting you through any more of

that - I mean, I am lucky that you forgave me for last night.  We aren't

going to go through that again."  He continued towards the door and my cock

leapt again under the towel.

      "Stop!"  Keith froze in mid-step with his hand on the door handle,

his upper body twisted towards me, accentuating his perfect torso, as he

drilled into me with his eyes.

      "What now?  Are you telling me you fucking WANT them to stay?", Keith

asked with a measure of fake incredulity.

      "I don't know."  That much was the truth.  In fact, I was more

confused at that precise moment than I had ever been in my entire life.  On

the one hand, if they left, I could close the book so to speak on the

events of this weekend and Keith and I could just try to forget about it.

If he and I decided to try some more "experimenting", we could do it with

some measure of privacy.  On the other hand, I was beginning to view the

events of last night in a somewhat different light.  They suddenly didn't

seem so bad, in some ways the thoughts running through my mind excited me

like nothing had ever been able to do before.  Keith, never known for his

patience, wasn't prepared to stand there forever, while I sorted the whole

mess out in my head.

      "Hey, man - you decide - it's your house.  But I gotta tell you, if

they stay the weekend, you know all of us are gonna be drinking and smoking

weed and they are gonna want to do more 'stuff' to you.  I'd feel really

bad if you got in over your head.  I mean, I'm the one who got you started

on all of this."

      "I think I'd like them to stay.  I can handle it."  Keith shook his

head and returned to his chair, the folds of his foreskin beginning to

glisten somewhat.  My own groin contracted again sending more pre-cum into

the towel.  A glistening pearl of clear pre-fuck seeped through the

terry-cloth fabric and beaded on top of the defined tip of the tent I was

throwing in the towel.  When Keith sat back down, he lit another cigarette,

and just stared at me for a moment.

      "I don't know what to think about you now, Sam.  I brought you out

here this morning to apologize for what we did to you last night and now

you're telling me that you want more of the same.  You know, originally, I

had planned quite a bit more for you this weekend than what we did last

night."  As he spoke, the weight of his hard and substantial cock began to

push the waistband of the shorts lower and lower along the shaft,

essentially allowing more and more of it to emerge into the open.  The wet

skin of his head was pointed directly at me now and I was looking at it far

more often than I was looking at Keith's face.  He snapped me out of my

reverie when he spoke again.  "Are you listening to me, boy?"  I responded

without even objecting to the term.

      "I think that maybe I want them to stay."

      "There had better be no 'maybes' about it, Sam," he said, the

aggression in his voice on the rise again.  "You decide now.  If they stay,

it means you're gonna be a slutboy this weekend after all.  I intend to be

stoned most of this weekend and I WILL NOT be responsible for anything that

happens..."  More of his cock slipped free of the waistband and I licked my

dry lips.  "...and, by the way, if they stay, we are going to continue your

training on holding back your orgasm.  I'm not gonna let you touch your

cock."  When he said the word "cock", his own dick broke free of the

waistband and throbbed in mid-air, the tight skin only now beginning it's

slide down the shaft of his dick.  He knew the effect this would have on me

and just let it hang there in the open.  The sloppy wet, slimy, bright red

head began to emerge from it's home and the final vestiges of my pride

slipped away.  I could help myself no longer...

      "Keith, can I touch your cock?"  There was no reservation in my voice

at all.  I couldn't claim I was drunk or high or anything else.  I said the

words with all the certainty that a dehydrated man would use when asking

for water.

      "I guess I've got my answer."  He stood up and walked over to me, his

hard dick wagging in front of him as he made the short trip.  The cock

pointed at me like a torpedo, a drop of pre-cum now clinging tentatively to

the head.  I reached up for it.  "Put your hands down, Sam.  Don't touch

it."  He reached down and squeezed one of my nipples and I threw my head

back and groaned.  "Tell me - one last time - that you want them to stay

and play with you."

      "Oh God, Keith, I want them to stay and do it.  I want to do it.

Please don't send them away!"  Keith grinned, shaking his head at me, and I

knew that my life had changed forever.

      "Stand up!" he commanded and I quickly complied with the order.  He

reached down and removed the towel around my waist, revealing my slime

covered hardon.  "You won't wear anything the rest of the weekend,

Sam...and you won't touch that cock of yours, will you?"

      "No, I won't touch it unless you tell me I can."  Keith chuckled at

my new-found enthusiasm.

      "Well, that's not gonna happen.  Whose dick is that for the rest of

this weekend?"

      "It's yours, Keith."

      "...and who else owns it?"  It sounded like a trick question.  I

fumbled for an answer.

      "Tim, Phillip, Brad, and Kevin?"

      "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?  But you're wrong.  I OWN IT -

ME ALONE.  If I let them play with you, it's because I decided that it's OK

with me.  You got that?  Do we understand each other?"  My pulsating cock

drooled on my foot as he twisted my nipple again.

      "Yes, Keith, it's yours alone."

      "That's good.  Now get inside the house and start making us something

to eat.  Those guys are going to be hungry once I wake them up."  I wasted

no time getting into the house and started trying to find something to cook

while Keith went around waking up the other guys.  Since I live alone,

there really wasn't very much in the kitchen to choose from.  There was

some breakfast type food in the refrigerator - a dozen eggs, some bacon,

and I had plenty of bread to make toast.  After I started cooking, I

painfully realized how very difficult it is to cook bacon while naked.  I

put on another pot of coffee as some of the other guys started to wake up

and wander around the house.  I suffered through their catcalls and other

vulgar remarks, knowing full well that after my little confessional on the

deck with Keith this morning that I was in for much worse than just

teasing.  The thought made my dick jump.  Keith and Tim brought the table

back into the kitchen and started putting the chairs back in place.  They

had all finished with their showers and each had drunk some coffee by the

time I finished the eggs and toast.  I divided the food into six portions

and started placing the plates at the table.  In an odd sort of way, I

almost forgot about being naked and focused on being a good host to the

guests in my house - it was all so surreal.  There wasn't enough space for

us all to sit at the table so I just stood at the counter as they sat down

and started to eat.  Picking up my fork, I started to take a bite out of my

scrambled eggs.

      "What do you think you are doing?" asked Keith.

      "I was going to eat breakfast." I responded meekly.

      "Wait until we are finished.  We might need something and you need to

be ready to serve us like a nice little waitress."  Kevin, looked up at me

with his mouth full, laughing at me with his eyes and shaking his head.  I

put down the fork and just stood there, watching them eat the food that I

had prepared, refilling their coffee cups and listening to their

conversation.

      "Hey, Miss," interrupted Tim.  "Can I have some more bacon please?"

      "I'm sorry, Tim.  There isn't any more."

      "Sure there is...right there on that plate on the counter."  He was

referring of course to my own plate.

      "But, that was what I was going to eat...you know, after you guys get

finished."

      "Now, Sam, that's not very nice of you," Keith said.  "I think you

need to start thinking less about yourself and more about the guests that

you just BEGGED me to let stay the rest of the weekend.  You can't start

being selfish now.  Give Tim the bacon."  I took my plate over to the table

and let Tim steal the meat from it.

      "You know," added Brad.  "I could use another piece of toast."  I

held the plate across the table and let him take what he wanted, leaving my

plate in the middle of the table.

      "That's a good little hostess, Sam.  I think you are getting the

hang of it.  Just a few more minutes and we'll be finished here.  Then you

can eat and clean up the kitchen while we decide how to spend the day."

They continued to eat for a while longer, several of the guys even swiping

some of my scrambled eggs.  Soon, there wasn't much more than a few

leftover pieces of egg and a half-eaten piece of toast remaining on my

plate.

      After they all completely finished, Keith pushed away from the table

and stood up, stretching his strong arms high above his head, causing his

chiseled chest to stand out even more than usual.  "That was an awesome

breakfast, Sam...though I do feel bad that we didn't leave very much for

you.  Hey, wait a minute - I know how to make it up to you."  He pulled his

cock through the fly of his boxers and started stroking it there at the

table, my own cock beginning to swell the moment I saw it.  "How about a

little cream sauce for your eggs?"  I knew that my face was turning red as

he continued his stroking and soon he was working the entire shaft of his

cock over the mostly empty plate.  The other guys had broken out into fits

of the same uncontrollable laughter I had heard so much of last night.

      "Dude, that is so fucking gross!" commented Phillip.  "Are you

seriously gonna do that?"

      "Fuck yeah, our little waitress deserves a tip don't you think?

Actually, any of you guys who enjoyed your breakfast ought to contribute."

      "Hell yeah, I'm in," said Tim, standing up and pulling out his own

cock.  He got it semi-hard and then skinned it back and I was horrified to

see that much of last nights cum remained under his foreskin.

      "Fuck!  Man, don't you ever clean that thing?" asked Brad.

      "I know, dude, and you just got outta the shower!" replied Phillip.

      "Shit, the faggot was drooling all over this last night.  You guys

saw it on the video...and besides, lots of people like cheese in their

scrambled eggs."  He proceeded to finger the head of his cock, gathering up

a good bit of the foul, congealed cum, and smeared it on the eggs remaining

in the plate.  He and Keith were fully hard and stroking when the other

three stood up to join them - Kevin speaking for the group.

      "I wouldn't normally do this kinda thing...but it was a good

breakfast and we're saving a fortune this weekend by crashing here.  I

guess it's for a good cause."  Before I knew it, there were five guys

jerking their cocks off over a plate of cold eggs and toast - and I

couldn't take my eyes off of them.  My own dick, which had gone soft while

I was cooking, was rising again in front of me.  Keith had told me not to

touch it and I had not, even though every time it went soft, the built up

pre-cum would leak out even more.  I had been standing in the kitchen with

my dick leaking even when it was soft.  But now that I was watching the

show in front of me, my cock was spewing out a new batch.  I felt the head

moisten again, and tried to swallow as I watched, almost hypnotized, as the

guys frigged their dicks over my breakfast.

      Keith noticed my response.  "Yeah, look guys...our little faggot host

likes the idea of what he's gonna get to eat.  Makes his pussy mouth water,

I bet."  I saw the others turn briefly and look in my direction.  Brad and

Phillip couldn't believe they were doing this or that I might actually eat

it afterwards, but that didn't stop their hands from moving faster and

faster over their own cocks.  Tim was the first to cum.

      "Oh, God...shit, yeah...gimme the plate."  Keith quickly slid the

plate to Tim, who pointed his rock hard cock down at the eggs just in time

to unload a massive puddle of milky white into the center.  My own cock

spasmed and it burped out another jewel of pre-cum to slide down the shaft.

      "Fuck, I'm gonna cum guys," screamed Phillip, who tore the plate away

from

Tim almost before he had milked out his last few drops.  Phillip's load

spat viciously into the center of the plate - a healthy dose of morning cum

to add to Tim's.

      "Guys, I'm getting close," informed Kevin, "but I can't point my cock

down like that and shoot."  He was right.  His cock was the hardest, most

firm thing I had ever seen in my life.  I remembered the way I had looked

at it last night, embarrassed when I remembered the way I had begged him to

let me suck it, only to have him say no.  That cock was anchored deep

inside his body and when it was hard, it could not be pulled down or aimed

it any way.  He pulled up his long foreskin over the head and pinched it

off for a second while he maneuvered the plate in front of him with the

other hand.  Then, picking up the half-eaten piece of toast and holding it

over the plate and in front of his cock like a shield, he let go.  "God,

Jesus, yeah you mother-fucker, you better like this."  My cock visibly

bounced and a pearl of my own pre-fuck dripped at least six-inches down

from the head when his massive load of thick, viscous cock-snot exploded

out of his dick and splashed into the toast.  I could have sworn it almost

knocked it out of his hand.  More and more of the thick nasty cream kept

spurting out of his pulsing dick as Kevin cursed over and over.  Finally

spent, he tossed the toast - cum-side up - back on the plate and milked his

cock of the last few drops.  Keith was impressed.

      "Fucking awesome, man...you got talent.  The boy is really gonna like

that one...nice and chewy."

      "Quick, gimme the plate!" demanded Brad, who got the plate slid over

to his side of the table just in time to dump his own big load into the

growing puddle of juice.  "Damn," he said, wiping the sweat from his

forehead with the back of his hand.  "That was a nice way to start the

morning.  Hope you enjoy it, faggot!"

      "My turn, guys," said Keith, "and then we can let the boy eat.  Hand

me the plate."  Keith gave his cock a few more quick strokes and let loose

with a torrent of cum that hit the plate so hard that a loose piece of egg

actually broke free and bounced across the table when his first volley of

cum hit it.  There was at least a foot of pre-cum dangling from the head of

my own pounding cock, the bottom of the strand thick with a crystal pearl,

as I watched his second and third volleys join the cum already soaking into

my eggs and toast.  By the time he was finished, there was not a single

piece of food on the plate that had not been contaminated by cum in one way

or another.  Keith's pace slowed as he worked out the last few spasms of

his cock.  "Whew...that was nice...and I feel much better knowing that

Sam is going to get a full, nutritious, well-balanced breakfast this

morning."  After having stowed his cock back inside the boxers, he added,

"Well, get out of his way, guys.  Sam deserves to be able to sit down

while he eats.  I think he has had to wait long enough.  Come on, sit."

      I moved over to the table and looked down at the filthy mess in front

of me on my plate.  The guys were good - not a single drop of cum had

missed the plate to land on the table.  I could barely even see the eggs

anymore.  As I looked at the plate, it dawned on me how different the cum

from different guys could look.  I could tell which load had come from

which guy.  Keith, Tim, and Phillip both shot loads that were average in

consistency - white, certainly not very runny, but not very thick either.

Brad's load had been very thin, most of it was almost clear, with a few

strands of milky white streaking through the liquid.  Kevin's had to be the

thickest.  Shit, his cum looked almost chewy it was so thick.  Long, nasty

cords of it clung to the piece of toast and the remaining strands decorated

the eggs, looking almost like someone had poured Elmer's glue over my

breakfast.  I think I surprised a few of them when I picked up my fork, and

after stirring the eggs once or twice, place a large portion in my mouth

and swallowed.  After another, Kevin interrupted me.

      "Don't forget the toast."