A Journey to Hell

A journey to hell

By Naughty Bard

Warning: this story contains sexual acts (oral, domination, humiliation, watersports) both straight and gay.

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

Hey everyone!

Thank you so much for all the support and the messages you sent me. I can't tell you how much I appreciate them. Please keep them coming :-) naughtybard@gmail.com

Big thanks to my friend John for editing my work as usual and to my friend Luca for being there since the very beginning.

Please keep in mind that Nifty needs our donations to keep this awesome service running!

That being said... enjoy!

Chapter 2

They were alone in a dimly lit room, sitting right next to one another. Shawn had put his hand on Francis's shoulder, just like that day, in his bedroom. They were so close. What an unbelievable sensation, even just being able to watch him, stare at every chiseled detail of his gorgeous face. His hypnotic hazel eyes, always so confident, his breathtaking full lips, his impressive jawline, his arousing body odor. The college boy would have given the world for that moment to last forever. Just the two of them. Shawn was smiling his million dollar smile and was being so kind to him... everything was more than perfect... and then...

Francis groaned as he was unceremoniously torn away from his dream. Something had hit his face and it took him a few seconds to realize what was actually going on. He squinted his eyes in the morning light that was seeping through from the cracks in the splintered blinds. A pair of feet were still moving not two inches from his nose. Someone had just kicked his face and the sleepy young man realized it had been none other than that sweet god-like boy Francis had been dreaming of. It probably hadn't been on purpose. Shawn was still fast asleep after all. But Francis was now quite convinced that the dreamy jock wouldn't have hesitated to kick his face while awake, in order to entertain his friends. Yeah. He should have been mad about it, probably. But they were Shawn's feet. Francis realized he didn't even mind the smell much. His soles were smooth and the color of his skin matched the fair complexion the boy had. There was a bit of lint here and there, the gray ankle socks he had worn the night before, no doubt. Truth be told he had never examined a foot so thoroughly before and all in all decided that as long as it belonged to his beloved Shawn, it wasn't unpleasant. Not one bit. Francis blinked a couple of times then turned his head slightly to the left and his lips touched the heel of a different set of feet. Jesse's, Shawn's best friend. The college student cringed a little. Somehow, they weren't as enjoyable. It wasn't the smell, really. He had gotten used to it by now. He had been breathing it for hours, after all. Not that he had had any choice in the matter. But there was something about that kid that intimidated Francis more than usual which was saying something. Fragments of nightmarish memories suddenly rushed into his brain and his stomach turned. A disgusting burp came up to his mouth forcing him to taste piss again and he almost barfed. They had made him drink a ton of it only a few short hours earlier. And then they had blissfully gone to sleep cackling like drunken monkeys. It was a hard thing to process. Not exactly your typical Tuesday night, right? No. Francis had laid on the dirty floor of that bedroom for hours trying to figure out what exactly had happened, why they had behaved like that and most importantly what to do now. He had cried silently for a while and only managed to fall asleep at the crack of dawn, out of sheer emotional exhaustion. It wasn't supposed to go like that. It was supposed to be just a boys' vacation. Nothing more. This was pure, unmitigated hell. Nothing more to say, really. Nonetheless, he just couldn't help believing that Shawn actually cared for him. Obviously he wasn't stupid. He knew the straight boy was never going to reciprocate the feelings he had for him but, even so, Francis would have settled for simply being allowed to be in his company. It was weak of him to think that way but it was indeed within Francis's character. On the other hand, hanging out with his sister's boyfriend apparently meant being subjected to the practical jokes the `bro-code' demanded by him and his buddies which is where things became slightly more confusing in Francis's mind. Yes, confusing, because the college boy just couldn't deny the fact that he had been hard as a rock through the entire ordeal they had put him through. And that went against everything he'd been taught.

He slowly slid down the narrow aisle he was trapped in, carefully trying not to wake them and managed to finally get to his feet. He felt filthy and realized the shirt he was wearing smelled of piss, their piss. The piss they had made him drink. Sorry but it bears repeating. Meanwhile, the four teenagers were sleeping soundly completely abandoned on their beds. They had clearly been partying hard and come back extremely late. Now they were catching some well deserved beauty sleep. Not that they were in need of any, really, because, boy, were they stupidly good-looking!? Their bodies were chiseled like well trained athletes' should be: lean, toned, hunky. They simply looked stunning. It was like being in the presence of demigods from the old myths and they came in every flavor of the specimen spectrum: Caucasian, Norse, Latino and Asian. Unbelievable. Not much else you could ask for, quite frankly, as far as looks could go. And he was to spend the next six days and nights being humiliated and laughed at by them. Could be worse...' he thought bitterly At least they're great to look at...'

Now he would have likely spent the whole day staring at Shawn's abs and the light trail of dark hair guiding down to his crotch but his eyes noticed the clock on the wall. 8.23. He realized he was expected to make them breakfast. It was one of the many `perks' he had acquired by becoming a member of their little gang. Another pang clenched his stomach. For the umpteenth time, since the night before, Francis had the sudden urge to call his sister and tell her what they had done to him, how they had hazed and bullied him, how unfair and mean they had been. He wanted to vent to her so badly. He swallowed hard. Something was stopping him yet again. Doubt. The young man wondered if he was, maybe, overreacting. What did he really know about jocks and the way they treat their friends? Nothing, really. He had never hung out with anyone that was a part of that elite posse. And of course he had seen them horse around in the halls, calling each other names, just for fun. Now that he thought about it, that's all he remembered them doing. Like all the time. How was that any different from what they had done to him? How was he sure that they hadn't simply been a little rough with him to make him feel part of the group for real. As crazy as that might sound, the more he thought about it, the more he felt slightly silly. And again, didn't his erection mean he kinda liked it, to begin with?

Flustered and a little puzzled he walked to the kitchen and focused back on what he had to do. He opened every cupboard in sight and found them predictably empty. Nothing to cook, or eat, not even a box of crackers because they had indeed rented a dump in the middle of nowhere and of course none of them had actually thought of buying at least the essentials. He stared desolately at the empty fridge.

What am I gonna do now?' he started panicking a little. There was no way he was gonna leave them without breakfast. He wasn't gonna screw up the first task he had been given. No. He was gonna be cool about it for once in his life and go with the flow' as they say. Groceries... downtown...' he thought. How though? For a second he considered borrowing Jesse's car but then shuddered at the sheer notion, wondering what he might have done to him had he found out. He grabbed his phone from the counter and looked for a taxi service. About an hour later he was on his way back to the apartment with tons of bags filled to the brim with unnecessary stuff that the overbearing lady at the grocery store had deemed absolutely necessary for a good American breakfast'. That little stunt hadn't been cheap either but Francis had way more pressing business to worry about. He prayed to God that the four boys were still asleep and felt a wave of relief wash over him when he found out they were still snoring softly. He put the groceries on the table and started rummaging for pans and kitchen utensils trying to be as quiet as he could. Cooking was actually one of the very few practical things he could actually do. It was easy, all you had to do was follow the recipe. Instructions, simple instructions, no complications. Real life? That was another story. There were only four chairs around that table.

Shawn Donovan woke up to the smell of fried eggs and sizzling bacon. He rubbed his eyes lazily as images from the night before were coming back to him. Two very skilled tongues slobbering on his junk, a pretty brunette's tits bobbing right in front of his face while he was fucking her. His morning wood was harder than ever. And then of course his girlfriend's faggot brother Francis. He found himself smirking while seeing himself and his friends pissing in a fucking water jar.

"Morning toilet!" he heard the sleepy snickers of his friends so he opened his eyes and looked up. In the bed opposite his, Jesse was sitting up, stretching and yawning. Shawn followed his gaze and found that gangly queer at the door, barely answering.

"...morning..." he mumbled as Mark and Alex were getting up.

"Slept well?" asked Alex pushing past the fag.

"Yeah..." he answered as miserable as ever.

"Good! Hehehe!" snickered Jesse giving him a couple of `friendly' slaps on the cheek.

"Woah!! That's what I'm talking about!" Shawn heard Mark call from the kitchen "Good job, toilet!" as the unmistakable noises of a loud breakfast started.

Shawn sat up and noticed the fag looking at him like his puppy had just died. Now that he thought about it he realized that what had happened the night before had been way worse and sudden than they had ever talked about. The plan was to slowly ease into the whole fag-maid idea but the weed and the booze must have taken over and they had probably gone a little overboard. Of course it was fun but still... Had they fucked the whole thing up? What if the little fucker had blabbed to his sister? Was he a fucking dead man or something? Shawn was not feeling so hot all of a sudden.

"Morning..." he said to the fag, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened "So, happy that you're part of the group now?" he asked to test the waters.

"Y... yeah..." the fag mumbled "...but... last night you..." he didn't finish, which was so fucking typical. This pushover didn't even have the balls to talk like a normal person, which automatically kinda fueled the urge for any normal guy to fucking bully his ass. It was like he asked for it. Anyways. Ok, so the situation was still unclear but maybe he was not a dead man just yet.

"What?" Shawn carried on. The fag looked worried and the young jock figured that it was time to pull off one of his fucking Jedi mind tricks if he wanted to keep this from Julie. That was IF she didn't already know "You didn't get offended, did you?" he snorted like the whole concept was ridiculous "Cause, dude, it's just part of the game!"

"Y... yeah... but that was way too..." the queer protested meekly and couldn't even look him in the eye. Man, he wanted to beat the shit outta this wimpy bitch.

"Look, you wanted to be part of the group, right? We told you we were gonna haze you a little, there's nothing wrong with that!" Shawn even impressed himself for the straight face he was keeping. He watched the fag's expression relax, only slightly though "We all went through it, dude. It's how it works!"

"R... really?" Un-fucking-believable! He was buying this shit for real! Was he retarded?

"Yeah, man! Totally! There's no need to worry!" he was being so fucking sleek he deserved a prize "Look, just be chill about it and follow the rules, you'll be fine! You'll even enjoy it once you get into it, ok?"

He was selling something highly unsalable and any other person would have flipped him off or something. Not this queer. He was considering what Shawn had told him but still didn't look completely convinced.

"But... but... last night you..." his objections were getting even milder which was driving Shawn up the fucking wall.

"Jesus Christ! What? What?!" he spat "Last night we had a bit of fun, Francis! That's all! Didn't YOU have fun?! You said you did last night!" he observed the expression change on the fag's ugly mug and was pretty happy to see that little outburst had done the trick. Whoever said 'attack is the best form of defense' was a fucking genius.

"Y... yes... of course..." the stupid sissy stammered looking down at his feet.

`Too fucking easy!' Shawn thought.

"Then what the fuck's the problem?" he added with the same exasperated tone.

"N... no problem, Shawn... sorry..." he even fucking apologized. Unreal.

"Good!" he said curtly, as he got up from his bed "Smells pretty damn good. What did you make us?" nothing like a little `stick and carrot' play to train a pet.

"Uhm... eggs, bacon and..." the queer said almost proudly.

"Awesome! It's exactly what we needed after all that fuck... dancing, all the dancing we did last night." Shawn bit his tongue just in time. Shit! He couldn't let him know about that! He was still Julie's fucking brother after all. The hot athlete grinned at the fag and deliberately scratched his balls right in front of him. The fag's eyes predictably went to his crotch in a second. Fucking stupid queer. "Well, I'm starving!" he said innocently and walked towards the door. Then to make sure his little comment hadn't just fucked everything up he added "Oh, by the way, you must never tell anyone about anything you do or see or hear when you're with us, ok?" He walked right back to him and placed both his hands at the back of his head, sort of like a bro-hug-kind-of gesture. "It's a secret, remember?" He winked at him and thought the bitch was gonna melt right there and then. He knew that he was completely powerless against his charms.

"Ok, yes! I promise!" the supid sissy answered, visibly relieved and even chipper all of a sudden.

"Yeah, buddy!" Shawn smiled at him then, sincerely curious he asked: "Anyway, where did you get all that grub?"

"I called a cab and went shopping downtown," the fag replied eager as fuck.

"Hahaha! Nice job, toilet! Showing initiative, I see! I like that! Good for you!" he chuckled turning away from him but apparently the fag wasn' done.

"Shawn..." the boy turned around again. The bitch looked like he was about to deliver some seriously important speech or something "...I... I trust you... completely... if you say that I have to follow the rules of the `game' I'll do it... for sure... but there is a limit, right? I mean, we need to draw the line somewhere, right? I need you to tell me, please... I... I don't know anything about hazing or... or practical jokes, I mean I've never really... you know... and I might think something is a big deal when it's not and I don't wanna ruin the fun for you guys or bum you out, that's the last thing I wanna do... but... but if you help me... I mean... what I'm trying to say is that I REALLY wanna be one of you guys... please... no matter what..."

It was by far the longest sentence he had ever heard him say. And also the dumbest. Was this loser for real? Shawn was having the hardest time not to crack up right in front of him but he somehow managed. He smiled at him instead.

"Best decision you could ever make, buddy! I'll tell you where the line is. No sense bitching about every little thing we tell you to do, right?"

"Right!"

"Yeah, you just do whatever I say and we'll have so much fun, deal?" he had to start snickering. He couldn't possibly contain himself anymore.

"Yes Shawn! Thank you! I really appreciate it!" the bitch actually laughed with him, all fucking happy about that little chat they just had. Fucking pathetic.

"Hehehe! Sure! No problem, toilet!" the boy turned around again and added "Make our beds while we eat!"

Now everything was good again. He knew he could trust Shawn. How could he ever have questioned that? What an idiot! He was a hell of a guy and he loved his little sister so much. God, Julie really had been lucky. He would have never made her cry and that was simply a fact. Now Francis just had to sit tight and listen to what Shawn would tell him. In a way it was such a relief, not having to make decisions. Just let someone else do it for you. It was a rush, non doubt, a rush Francis didn't mind one bit if he was being honest with himself. It made him feel... safe. He could hear them yell and guffaw like they always did. Loudly, brazenly, shamelessly. They sounded so carefree. He envied them a little. He envied their confidence and the hard-line way they lived their lives. While accurately smoothing up the sheets on their beds he found himself hoping one day he could actually be laughing with them instead of being laughed at. Wishful thinking one might say. It sort of felt like him and them came from different planets. Francis sighed. He looked around the room and noticed all their clothes were scattered on the floor. He picked them up, folded them and put them on their respective beds. What a good little housekeeper he had turned out to be. Lately he had been having certain thoughts. Thoughts he hadn't shared with anybody. He was starting to feel trapped in that male body of his and the worst part was that there was nothing he could do about it. Why couldn't he be a pretty girl so Shawn would love her tenderly. And make love to her. He picked up his sister's boyfriend's t-shirt and smelled it lovingly. God, all that testosterone sent him to heaven. He wanted to touch and kiss his body so bad... and lick it...

He was abruptly brought back to earth by a strange noise. It sounded like the boys had done something they thought was funny and they were predictably cackling about it.

"Yo, toilet! Get over here!"

Francis hurried to the kitchen. They were sitting at the table, all except for Mark, the blond, blue-eyed surfer dude who was standing next to the fridge. The floor was pretty much covered in Honey Nut Cheerios. They must have knocked over a box while they were horsing around. It was everywhere. Under the table, around their bare feet, near the cooker.

Mark tossed him an old broom.

"Clean it up!" he barked and sat back on his chair.

Francis obeyed instantly and the boys started chatting again.

"Breakfast was pretty fucking great, toilet!" commented Jesse, smirking "Better keep this up!"

"O... ok... sure... Jesse, I will..." Francis replied. They just wouldn't quit snickering. Obviously watching him humiliate himself pretty much voluntarily for their sole entertainment was to their liking. But it was no problem. Shawn said it was ok, that it was part of the game, so it was all good. He finished gathering everything in the dustpan and was looking for a trash can of some kind but then remembered that he couldn't find one before, while he was cooking.

"Here! Use this!" Alex was handing him the bowl he had used to eat his cereals. Francis smiled gratefully at him, maybe trying to find some amount of pity in the boy's almond shaped eyes. Unfortunately the smirk the asian kid had on his strikingly handsome face spoke of nothing but derision. Francis took the bowl and emptied the dustpan inside it. "Hold on, give it back." it was Alex again "I got some of that shit pasted under my feet." He said and used the brim of the bowl like a spatula to slide the bottom of both his feet on, collecting the crumbs from the crushed cereals mixed with the dirt from that filthy floor into that same receptacle.

"Pass it around when you're done, got the same problem." Mark said and Shawn seconded him. They all did it. They cleaned their feet on the brim of that bowl that Francis made a mental note not to use anymore, ever. He watched them do it one by one until Shawn handed him back the bowl so he could throw everything away.

"Hold on a second!" interjected Jesse, sporting an evil sneer that spoke volumes "Why would you throw that out? You didn't have breakfast, yet, did you?" he enquired mercilessly and the others, quite predictably, snickered.

"No fucking way! Hahaha!" chortled Alex, extremely entertained.

"N... no..." Francis answered disheartened.

"Tsk, tsk!" Jesse raised up a finger with mock disappointment "Now, that's not good, toilet! Don't you know breakfast is the most important meal of the day?"

"Hahaha! Yeah, toilet, you don't wanna skip breakfast!" Mark scoffed at him "C'mon, take a seat! This is gonna be good! Hehe!" the blond boy continued, giving up his chair and grabbing him by the arm. He forced him to sit in front of that disgusting mix of frosted cereals, dust, toejam and lint. Jesse poured in some cold milk left in Shawn's bowl and some from his own. The white liquid made the grime stand out even more.

"Hehehe! There you go! Now we're talking! My mom's always bitching about the waste of perfectly good food in America, now I can quit feeling guilty about it! Hahaha!"

"Amen to that, brother! Hehehe!" cackled Alex.

Jesse was still sneering as he leaned back on his chair with his arms crossed behind his head expectantly. God that face was so dreamy, those hazel eyes and the chiseled features. Those thick lips. Why was Francis getting hard again? Why couldn't he stop picturing the boy's dick, all of a sudden? That massive piece of meat he had gotten a glimpse of the day before. And why, in god's name, was he enjoying being degraded like that? It made no sense. No, no, it was ridiculous! He was NOT enjoying that.

"Do... Do I have to?" Francis protested ever so meekly.

"What's the matter, toilet? If you can drink our piss you can eat that shit too!" Jesse said oozing self-confidence and unchallenged authority in equal measure. Francis hesitantly looked at Shawn, not entirely clear on what to do even though he had a feeling this didn't really cross the line they had talked about. Not if drinking piss didn't. In a way, Jesse's words made sense. That's why Francis wasn't exactly surprised to see that his sister's boyfriend was having the time of his life like the rest of them.

"What the fuck are you waiting for, toilet? Hoover it!" That's all he got from the love of his life. That meant it was all good. No matter how gross that might be, Shawn had spoken. Francis picked up a spoon and swallowed the first mouthful of that concoction. Everyone cracked up.

"C'mon, get the ball!" Shawn yelled, about a half hour later. They had decided to go shoot some hoops in a makeshift court they had spotted the day before, when they had arrived. It was maybe about half a mile from the apartament. The stupid fagmaid was cleaning up after them. It was unbelievable how easy it was to make him do stuff. All you had to do was tell him and he'd obeyed like the little bitch he was. Were all faggots that fucking submissive? They should have been. It made perfect sense to Shawn since they were clearly LESS than men, that was not up for debate. All that fucking equality propaganda could kiss Shawn's ass. It was bullshit. Like hell they were equal. The stupid fucker had chugged down a gallon of piss just cause he had told him to. No straight guy would ever degrade himself like that, no matter what was at stake. That's too low. It's fucking subhuman, for Christ's sake! No, faggots were simply not on the same level as normal guys, period! And it was time society reminded them of that. The young jock sure was ready to do his part. Besides it was fucking hilarious, quite frankly. That had definitely been some way to wake up. The little queer had pretty much told him he'd do whatever the fuck he wanted. How cool was that? He was already his fucking doormat, and it hadn't even been 24 hours. He had swallowed the whole fucking content of that bowl and Jesse had even managed to make him thank them for the yummy breakfast. That was a fucking riot. They had laughed so hard their stomach hurt.

His three buddies walked out of the bedroom wearing shorts and wife beaters. Jesse was balancing the ball on his head.

"We'll be back in a couple of hours." Shawn informed the fag.

"We'd take you with us but you better start on lunch!" Jesse mocked him. God he was so good at doing that!

"And everything better be fucking delish or..." Alex didn't finish. He started laughing at the sight of Mark petting the bitch on the head a bit too violently. Shawn chukled. His friends were having as much fun as he was bullying the fag which was pretty fucking great. Not that he had any doubts.

The little bitch was looking at them like he wanted to say something.

"What is it?" Shawn asked him.

"Uhm... I... I gotta get more groceries..." he whimpered, all fucking embarrassed.

"So? Do it!" Shawn replied as cold as fuck "Not our problem!"

"W... well... can... can I borrow your car... to get to the nearest store..." it was pretty evident the bitch had struggled like crazy to ask that.

"Sure thing, man!" said Jesse, almost sweetly, which surprised Shawn and the others a bit "Here!" Jesse tossed him the keys. The queer nearly looked like he was about to cry. He smiled incredulously.

"T... thank you..." he mumbled.

"Yeah, no problem, toilet!" replied Jesse grinning from ear to ear, "Oh, while you're at it, you don't mind washing it and filling it up, right?" And that was it. They all started cackling and didn't wait for the fag's reply. They closed the front door on his stupid face and headed for the basketball court.

They literally couldn't walk straight, they were laughing so hard. Shawn had told them about the conversation he had had with the fag.

"Does he get off on being treated like shit or something? What the fuck is his problem? Haha!" Mark chortled.

"Oh, Shawn, can I be your slave for the rest of my life, pretty please? Hahaha!!" Alex was mimicking the bitch's voice.

"Hahaha!! Dude, you got him by the fucking balls!" Jesse said, "You know what? We can do waaaay better than just use him as a fucking maid!"

"Hahaha! I'll say! Just gimme a little time, bro! Just gimme time! Hahaha!!"

"Yo, toilet! Whassup!"

The table was set for four and Francis was stirring stuff in a pan when they got back. It smelled rather good in there and he could hear their stomachs growling.

"Did you buy something to drink?" asked Mark. His fair skin and blond hair were all matted with sweat.

"Uhm... there are sodas and beer in the fridge..." the college boy replied and watched them all horse around towards the fridge. It was extremely hot and he figured something cold and fizzy was exactly what they needed. They chatted among themselves for a few minutes while they were cooling off, then they sat themselves at the table. Francis started serving them the food he had prepared without anyone asking him to. They acted like he wasn't even there. No thanks' or anything, not even a smirk or a sneer. They began to wolf everything down like they hadn't eaten in days and, for all intents and purposes, ignored the hell out of him. How could he not admire their confidence, their bravado? It was stupid and even a little scary but that selfish attitude that should have made him angry, instead did nothing but make them look hotter, if possible. Francis stepped away from the table and leaned against the cooker, in the corner of the room. The four jocks were talking about the game they had just played and didn't even acknowledge his presence. He had killed himself to get everything ready in less than two hours. He had done the shopping, washed Jesse's car and filled it up just like he had been asked to do. And then he had prepared all that food. Not to mention that between breakfast, lunch and gas he had blown away way more than he could afford. But Shawn's voice resonated in him It's part of the game, buddy!' and no one could resist that voice, or at least he knew he couldn't. And why should he? It felt good not resisting. He took a bite of the paella he had cooked. `It's not bad... maybe a little salty...' he thought and opened the fridge to get a soda. When he popped it open Jesse turned around to look at him.

"What are you doing?" the boy demanded, rather aggressively, smirking as per usual.

"Well... I'm... thirsty..." Francis said it almost like he was asking for permission.

"Yeah, I bet you are but don't even think about drinking that!" Jesse was frowning like the idea was completely ludicrous "you don't throw perfectly good soda in the toilet, do ya?" the gorgeous latino had stood up "Besides, your special drink is `in brewing', hehehe!" he added while grabbing his crotch obscenely. The others doubled over. Big surprise. Jesse downed the can he had in his hands and burped loudly in Francis face. Then he crushed the can in his fist and threw it on the floor "Just give us half an hour and you can drink as muuuuuch as you want, hahaha!" He grabbed the soda Francis had opened and sat back down, cackling with the others.

Francis couldn't believe this was coming again. He hated it. He hated it so much. He was sure of it. Then how come his penis was telling him otherwise?

It hadn't even been twenty minutes of hard core ignoring from their part when the handsome surfer dude, Mark, smirked at Francis and said:

"Guess what?! Mine's ready, you lucky bastard!" He chugged the last of his beer then lowered his arm under the table and started tinkering with the waistband of his shorts.

"Hehe! Welcome to pisstopia, hahaha!"

The others were absolutely digging the scene, guffawing and commenting rudely with their mouths full of that food he had lovingly cooked for Shawn. Francis couldn't resist this time. Something took hold of him and he leaned forward a little, just enough to get the blond boy's lower half into view. His penis was out. Francis felt his heart racing, just like the day before with Jesse in the gas station restroom. Mark was holding over four inches of limp, uncut, fat meat that was coming out of a thick bush of dark blond pubes. Francis' mouth started watering instantly. He felt inadequate, once again, biologically speaking. Because that thing was big. Maybe not quite as massive as Jesse's but still way, way bigger than his own. Was he handicapped? Every single thing about these boys was undoubtedly better looking, it was so crushingly humbling. Yet, Francis couldn't keep his lust in check around them. Even now. Mark was pissing inside the beer bottle he had just emptied and the stream that was shooting off his cockhead was strong and fierce which made the whole scene incredibly erotic to Francis.

"Wanna see how he makes it?" shouted Jesse right in his ear. Francis jumped out of his skin. The latino stud had creeped behind him and caught him red handed. Everybody cackled.

"Well, it's only fair. He's gotta drink it, bro!" Shawn teased "Probably just wanna make sure it's the real stuff, not some cheap off-brand shit! Hahahaha!"

"Hahaha! He can look as much as he wants. It's good, old, top-quality piss, straight from the tap! Hahaha!" joked Mark as he was finishing emptying his bladder. He rubbed the tip of his penis on the mouth of the bottle, peeling back his foreskin several times, to make sure he didn't spill any. Francis swallowed hard. That was the same bottle he was about to put in his mouth. His own penis was now down right hard and he had no control over it because he simply couldn't understand why this was happening. It was so degrading. Once again Francis couldn't even find the right adjective to describe what they were doing to him and yet he was hard. He hoped to God they didn't notice. That would have been too much.

Mark handed him the bottle which was now half full and the gay boy could feel the warmth of the straw colored liquid through the glass.

"There! From `farm to fork'! Hahahaha!!" quipped Alex.

Francis slowly lifted the bottle up to his mouth trying to sort out his feelings. From a rational point of view, the idea of drinking urine was obviously gross. But rationality, which seemed to have always been the boy's strongest weapon, wasn't really working for him that well anymore. Sure he was indeed about to drink urine again, but the idea that Mark had cleaned his penis on that very bottle mere seconds before and right in front of him, was pumping so much blood down to his groin it was impossible to ignore.

"Better savor it!" Mark snickered. The handsome foursome were all watching him, expectantly. He was, in fact, their entertainment, after all. He didn't even mind their cackling anymore and quite frankly he was chomping at the bit to find out what Mark's penis tasted like. Without further ado, Francis gingerly licked the piss coated mouth of the bottle and let the content fill his own mouth. The taste was as bitter and gross as the day before. And yet his own penis was about to explode in his pants. He thanked God he was wearing jeans. It was easier to hide it even though he was far from being as well-endowed as the boy whose piss he was swallowing.

"Well?" taunted Jesse, standing right next to him. He smelled quite strongly of sweat.

"It's... perfect..." Francis almost choked. His throat was burning slightly. The boys were doubling over as he stood there with a stupidly vacant expression. He drank again without them telling him to, then he turned to the gorgeous blond surfer and went "Thanks Mark..." it had come to him as such a natural thing to say which positively surprised him.

"Hahahaha! Sure thing, toilet! I mean, look how thirsty you are. It's the least I could do! Hahaha!" Mark replied snickering and exchanging entertained looks with Shawn "Besides I'm having a great time using you as a fucking piss tank!" he guffawed with such a smug expression "Who knows, if you play your cards right maybe someday I might even let you drink it straight as it comes outta my dick! Hahaha! Would you like that?" they cackled again as Francis was about to finish the last of the boy's piss. Unfortunately that very last statement combined with the tone and attitude the blond stud put in his voice was too much for the older boy to handle. He would have done anything, ANYTHING to get his mouth near that penis... any penis, really. And to his horror, he powerlessly realized he was having a violent orgasm, made quite uncomfortable by his own tighty whities. His legs felt like they were made of butter and he fell down on his knees, moaning like some animal in heat as a wet blotch darkened the front of his pants.

The boys went into hysterics.

"Do you like his piss that much! Hahaha!!" Jesse cackled as Francis kept licking and smooching the mouth of that bottle even though it was now empty. He just couldn't stop slurping the tip where Mark had rubbed his penis.

"He came! This freak came drinking my fucking piss!! Did anybody get that on camera?! Hahahaha!!"

"You're such a fucking loser, toilet! Hahahaha!!" Alex cackled.

"Man, I think you broke him. Look at him! Hahaha!" it was Shawn's voice this time and Francis kept licking that now tasteless bottle like there was no tomorrow.

"I'm the motherfucking pissking! Hahahaha!!" Mark struck a pose, showing off his biceps and giving them something more to laugh about.

Francis was still in a daze. His underpants felt slimy and he had never been so humiliated in his whole life. His post orgasm confusion was weird and hazy. Part of him wanted to cry. But part of him didn't. Part of him wanted to shout at them and run away. And part of him couldn't wait to get more. It was uncomfortable but Jesse didn't really give him time to recover his wits. He snatched the bottle from his hands unceremoniously.

"Hey, snap out of it, toilet! We all gotta piss, you know!" He was so close, towering over him and looking down at him with such a belittling evil smirk. His body odor was attacking the older boy's brain. And then he lowered his shorts, freeing his majestic penis, this time inches from Francis' face, mesmerizing the helpless young man and started filling up the bottle again, right in front of him, presenting him with his next fix.

Shawn and his buddies had moved to the bedroom after lunch. There was no way they were going out, not in that heat. Besides there was nothing to do downtown till late afternoon. They had thrown themselves on their neatly made beds, trying to enjoy the little air the fan on the ceiling was providing. The stupid fag bitch was right where he was supposed to be, in the kitchen, cleaning up again. What a fucking freak!' Shawn thought. They had passed around that beer bottle and had pissed in it, one by one and watched that fucking fairy empty it every single time. And then he was thanking them left and right. That was so fucking awesome. He had thanked each and every one of them for letting him drink their piss. Un-fucking-believable. The boy snickered to himself. The stupid wish to be part of their little posse pretty much made him their fucking slave and whenever the bitch wavered all he had to do was just nod at him or look at him funny or something. And he really did get off on being treated like that anyway. He had fucking cummed in front of them just from drinking Mark's fucking piss! Shawn had never seen anything so fucking pathetic in his life. Never. Shawn, I trust you completely...' the fag had whined to him that morning. No. He was never gonna say a word to Julie. Nothing to worry about there. It was like he pretty much had the bitch's life in his own hands. Now that was some rush!

Mark and Jesse had started bickering about football, as usual and Alex was listening to their banter pretty entertained. Shawn put on his airpods and started to chill. There was something that bugged him, though. His feet felt uncomfortable, constrained in those worn out Vans. He was about to kick them off, but he stopped himself and smirked.

"Yo, toilet! Get your ass in here!" the boy yelled, cutting off the football discussion. Sure enough the fag came running from the kitchen in like point five seconds, ready to serve. Nice. "My feet hurt, gimme a foot massage while I chill." It felt good using that tone with him and it felt even better seeing that he didn't even have to finish telling him that the dumb bitch was already at the foot of his bed, kneeling.

"Yes, Shawn..." he said all fucking enthusiastic which, of course, made them all cackle.

"Nice one, bro! Hey, toilet! I want one too when you're done with your hero! Hehe!" Alex teased while the bitch was already removing his sneakers.

"Yes, Alex..." the fag mumbled. Shawn took off his airpods. There was no need for them. They had all the entertainment they needed right there.

When the shoes came off, Shawn felt that typical fresh sensation you get when your socks are all damp with sweat and all of a sudden you get to wiggle your toes. The bitch took one of his feet in his hands and started massaging it while looking at him with pure, unmistakable love. It was almost adoration, really, which was weirdly the one thing he had in common with his sister. It was uncanny. Sure she could be a pain in the ass sometimes but she did love him a lot and Shawn had often used that to his advantage. The boy sat up on his elbows to observe the faggot better. The room smelled like a fucking locker room after practice and he noticed he was turning his face slightly to try and breath as far from his feet as he possibly could without being obvious about it. He snickered.

"Do they smell?" he asked, vastly entertained.

"Uhm... well... a little... but it's not like... I mean..." the bitch stumbled on his words.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jesse cut in "Last night you said you liked it!" he had put his ankles on the bitch's shoulders and his socked feet were now patting the fag's cheeks. Mark and Alex were enjoy the show immensely "I mean you spent a whole fucking night with your face glued to his feet and mine and now you're bitching about a little massage?" Jesse shook his head and clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"No... I..." the fag tried to answer while Jesse's feet were practically all over his face.

"So you're lying to us, now??" Shawn pushed him with mock indignation.

"N... no! Absolutely, I would never lie to you..." the bitch whimpered.

"Well, then?" Shawn asked expectantly, raising his eyebrows and spreading his arms.

"I... I do like them..."

Alex was laughing his balls off.

"Mmmmm..." insisted Jesse "You better be sure, toilet! We don't want any liars in our group!" Shawn watched as his old buddy used his foot to push the fag's face into his own feet. Awesome. He felt him gasp for air, trapped as he was in that foot clutch. It was impossible not to snicker.

"Well, what do you say? Smell good?" Jesse asked, easing up the pressure.

"Yes... they smell great..." Shawn threw his head back on the pillow and cracked up. It was hard to believe how easy he was to manipulate. `Loser' didn't even begin to describe him. It took them a while to stop laughing and in all that time the bitch never stopped massaging his foot for a fucking second.

"Alright, you know what?" Jesse said, asking for silence with his hands "Let's play a little game, shall we?" they all calmed down to listen "Since you got such a great sense of smell, better put it to the test!" snickers, here and there "I say, we make you memorize the smell of all our feet, then we blindfold you..." Jesse kept exchanging looks with Shawn while talking to the bitch "...you smell our socks and you gotta tell us who they belong to!" Then he turned to them "What do you guys say?"

The cheers and the cackles were overwhelming. Francis felt a shiver down his spine. That had to be too much! It was... gross... and... and disgusting. He didn't like that. Right? Anyways he had to be careful. He had definitely risked being kicked out of the gang a minute earlier. Francis looked hopeful at Shawn but the god-like teenager simply said.

"Hahaha! That sounds pretty fucking entertaining, haha!" Yet another sign that the boys were just having a bit of innocent fun which meant that he needed to soldier on and endure it. He swallowed. His throat still stung a little.

"Hahaha! Yeah, like one of those police dogs!" chuckled Alex "Go on! Get on all fours!" Francis obeyed. Not much else he could do, really.

"Hahaha! That's a gooood doggy!" Jesse petted him on the head with his foot.

Then, completely unexpectedly the boy of his dreams said something that made Francis's heart skip a beat.

"Hey! If you get each and every one of them right, tonight you can go out with us, deal?" And that was the ultimate, overwhelming proof that Shawn had his best interest at heart. He was giving him an opportunity that he couldn't waste. He wouldn't.

"O... ok... let's do it..." Francis said, now showing a little more enthusiasm.

"Hahaha! Awesome! That's the spirit!" Said Jesse, using his foot to pat his cheek again. Damn that guy was ripe "Now, like every doggy we gotta train you, first, ok?! So, now you get to smell each of our feet for like... a minute? What do you guys say?" he asked the others.

"Make it two!" chimed in Mark "We don't wanna rush this! Hehe!"

"Fine, THREE minutes it is!" Jesse stated, receiving cheers of approval "So, you got it doggie?"

"Yes..." Francis said simply but Jesse kicked him on the head.

"Hey! Doggies don't talk!" he said and looked down at him expectantly. The handsome latino was being especially wicked. Why did he want to humiliate him like that? Wasn't it enough that he was such a superior specimen? Francis thought about the whole thing for a second. He was on all fours being told to bark like a dog for the sole entertainment of a bunch of teenage kids. The brilliant student, first in every academic trial, a little Physics genius, or at least that's what half the faculty at UCLA thought of him. Why did he have to lower himself so much in front of those guys? And why did a small part of him want to do it? No matter. There was too much at stake. The college boy took a shaky breath and went:

"Woof! Woof!" laughers all around him.

"Hahaha! That's fucking priceless! Haha!!" Cackled Alex, the hot asian dude "Go on! Might as well start with Shawn, since you like him sooooo much!" he continued scratching one of his legs. For some reason, Francis noticed the boy was almost completely hairless.

"Yeah, c'mon! Get sniffing! Hahaha!" echoed Mark.

Francis turned to Shawn again, waiting for some sort of last second sign to get out of that situation. He knew he wasn't gonna get one and, sure as shooting, the boy was grinning at him.

"Well? Whatchu waiting for, doggy?" he said to him.

So Francis looked at those feet. Shawn's ankle socks were supposed to be white but they weren't. Or at least the soles. They were darkened and they did, in fact, smell pretty strongly. He gathered all his will and without anyone to force him, he pressed his face to the feet of the boy he was madly in love with. He breathed in his overbearing masculinity which he, himself, knew he could never have.

"Yeah! That's what I'm talking about! Hahaha!" Shawn snickered

"Hey don't go jerking off on us, got it doggy? We don't wanna see that!" Jesse quipped and everyone laughed.

"Haha! Just memorize it, toilet! You don't wanna lose this game, do ya?" Shawn said, covering Francis's whole face with his manly feet, rubbing them against his nose, his eyes, his lips.

The smell was so intense it went straight to his brain. It was pretty gross... sure... and yet Francis found himself inadvertently sniffing like a madman. His own penis was inexplicably back to happy. `Not again!' Why? Why did he find that incredibly degrading stuff so arousing? He kept asking himself that same thorny question every time they threw new stuff at him. There had to be something so wrong with him.

"How's it going, doggy?" Jesse taunted.

Francis was about to reply that it was difficult to memorize that smell. It was just the stench of sweaty feet. How could he tell one person from another? But he didn't say any of that. Because he wasn't gonna break the same rule of the game twice.

"Woof! Woof!" he humored them.

"Hahaha! Good doggy!" Jesse repeated, tapping his foot on the back of his head.

Alex Jin was keeping time. Still one more minute to go. When he had found out a couple of weeks before that this fag loser was tagging along he hadn't exactly been cool about it. Quite the opposite actually. He had bitched, pretty blatantly. Sure, Shawn and Jesse had let him in on the plan to make him their little bitch slave or whatever but it had taken major convincing to make him stop complaining about the whole thing. Boy, was he happy he had been wrong! This shit was fucking hilarious. He couldn't stop himself from snickering while watching the fag smell Shawn's feet with so much devotion. And his buddies had similarly entertained expressions on their faces.

"Time's up! C'mon do mine next!" Alex barked and the fag obediently unglued his stupid face from Shawn's nasty fuckers and pressed it to his own. He had a fucking college student, an older guy, litterally under his feet and this stupid ass bitch was rubbing his fag face on his socks like they fucking smelled like roses. What a fucking power trip that was. "Well? Which ones do you prefer? His or mine?" Talking to him like that was actually the best part.

"Woof! Woof!" was the only answer he got.

"Hahaha! Doggy has learned his lesson!" Jesse said.

"Haha! Yeah! He's a college genius, after all!" cackled Shawn.

"You know, what? This dog looks more like a bitch to me!" Mark said, lying on his bed "I mean, did you see the way he looked at me pissing?"

No reaction from the fag. He kept sniffing Alex's feet in silence. Jesse kept on teasing him.

"That true doggy? You a bitch?" It took him a few seconds to answer that.

"Woof..." this time it was a half hazard reply, like he was just realizing that now.

"Hahaha! Should've told us before!" Jesse cackled "Maybe you'd rather smell our dicks instead, then! Hahaha!"

"Hahaha! No shit he would!" Shawn laughed. Alex turned to him snickering.

"Yeah, but it looks to me he looooooves our feet just as much, right bitch?"

Another "Woof!" made them crack up again.

"Alright, that's enough!" Alex pushed his face away "Go to Mark, bitch!"

Jesse was blindfolding him with a pair of Alex's used underwear and some tape. They had decided it was the perfect get-up for the game. Francis was a little nauseated. But most of all he was confused. He felt hazy and dazed in that whirlwind of sweaty teenage testosterone, almost like he was high on it. His penis didn't even try to go soft. On the contrary every name calling, every humiliating comment made it pulse dangerously. Francis still didn't even fathom how this could be but it didn't really matter at this point. He had no brain power left to analyze the situation. Bottom line was he actually had noticed some differences in the way their feet smelled. He really had. It was subtle and hard to explain, but it was a fact. So he was indeed a dog after all. Or a bitch, like they said.

"Alright, guys! You ready? Socks off!" Francis couldn't see a thing but he could hear Jesse's voice and he gathered from the noises what they were all doing "There, let's make a niiiice pile right in front of him, hehe!" Jesse continued, then "C'mon bitch! get smelling and recognize your masters' feet!" Francis stopped in his tracks. `My masters?' He thought. What a strange concept. Jesse was still playing... wasn't he? The older boy felt his heart racing and asked himself why his penis was reacting so strongly to that particular word? But he didn't have time to mull it over. Someone had put a foot on the back of his head and had plunged his face into a tangle of dirty socks, snickering "Hurry up, bitch!"

He started to sniff around. It was impossible, everything was mixing up, creating nothing but confusion. All he knew was that it smelled so bad.

"Hey, you can't just smell all of them at once! You're never gonna tell them apart!" Mark seemed to have read his mind "Sniff `em one by one and when you're sure, put it on each of our beds, got it?" Francis was actually grateful for the help and would have loved to reply in human words. Instead he went:

"Woof!"

"Hey, that's cheating! You're helping the bitch!" jeered Alex.

"Yeah, she's gotta earn the prize! Hahaha!" Shawn said.

"Hahaha! Well, that's all part of the training, guys!" They were all cackling like crazy.

Francis took the first sock with his hand but he received a kick right in the middle of his back. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" it was Jesse again "Since when do bitches use their hands?" The pain he was feeling was more psychological than physical "Use your fucking mouth, stupid!" Francis cursed himself for not thinking about it. He parted his lips and dived down to pick the damp sock up. He separated it from the others and started working on it. Sniffing and sniffing. The boys were snickering childishly, all in expectation. The smell was familiar. How could it not be? He might know who it belonged to. Weirdly enough he thought of professor Stein, the head of the department of Physics back at UCLA, and all the times she had praised him: `You'll go far Mr. Grant, you'll see!' Francis felt a pang of guilt and discomfort. He picked up the sock again, stuffing it in his mouth, turned around and gingerly put it on Alex's bed. The boys' cheers exploded.

After a few minutes he was sorting out their socks like a champ. Among their jeering comments and name calling, he realized he was indeed able to tell them apart. He actually recognized the smell of their feet. He couldn't believe it. Maybe he'd get to go out with them, it was like a dream. The boys were doubling over and he figured it must have been hilarious to see him on all fours tasting their stinky socks.

And the moment of truth came. He worked on the very last one a little longer than the others. He was one step away from a night out with the boys. He wanted to be extra careful not to lose. He wanted the prize so bad. But he was sure, there was no doubt. He put the sock on Shawn's bed and the boys went crazy.

"Hahaha! Bitch, you did it! Hahaha!!" Shawn had put his bare feet on his head and face. He was petting him again and Francis found himself quite partial to that treatment, as long as it came from him "Get down there and roll around like a real bitch, c'mon!!" he was pushed down on the floor and passively obeyed. He laid on his back and lifted his limbs trying to resemble a dog as best he could. They seemed to like that.

"That's a real foot bitch right there, guys!! Give it up! hahaha!" Jesse taunted. Their laughter kept roaring which Francis figured was a good thing. He felt them all. They were rubbing their feet on his face and chest and he simply didn't have his wits about him anymore. He could smell and taste those feet, slapping him, soaking his skin with their smell while the teenagers were laughing hoarsely up there:

"You see? Bitch training is key, guys! Always listen to the piss king! Hahaha!!" said Mark as he tore away the homemade blindfold. That made everything even more confusing since Francis was now trying to catch a glimpse of their smirks and their faces but all he could see were feet. Feet. Feet. Feet. It felt neverending and he simply let them have all the fun they wanted. Needless to say, his penis was still as hard as steel.

They stopped after a few minutes leaving him exhausted, mentally and physically.

"Hahahaha! That was pretty fucking impressive, foot bitch!" Alex said, rolling his face under his foot a couple of times. Francis couldn't help feeling weirdly proud of that compliment. The gorgeous high-schoolers started chatting among themselves, commenting on the humiliating feat he, the foot bitch, had just completed which gave Francis a few seconds to rest. God, all that had made him so horny. Why? That same question running over and over in his mind.

"Alright, guys, we actually got at least three more hours before we need to start getting ready for dinner. What do you say we chill for a bit?" Shawn had suggested that, pushing Francis out of his daydream.

"Sounds like a plan!" said Mark and then burped loudly.

"And you..." Shawn looked down at him, with the most handsome, godly smile anyone had ever seen and Francis lost himself in his hazel eyes, "Since you've been such a good little foot bitch, I think it's only fair we give you a niiiice treat!" Francis found himself smiling with joy as everyone else was snickering "So, let me think..." Shawn continued, pensive. Then he smirked widely "Got it! How bout we finally let you taste our feet? I mean you like them so much you must be dying to lick them, right?"

"Haha! Yeah, the bitch's even got another boner, look!" Alex said and Francis covered his crotch embarrassed. They were roaring with laughter again.

"Hahaha! Right! Guess it's just natural for a foot bitch! Hahaha!" Shawn said.

"Must be!!" snickered Jesse.

"Alright, then it's settled! You're licking our feet clean till we tell you to stop!" Shawn informed him then he added "What's with the face? Aren't you happy?" They all laughed and fist bumped each other.

Francis couldn't hide the sorrow anymore. They could read it in his expression. `Why Shawn...' the boy thought desperately. But was complaining about it even an option anymore? Was it right to complain about it when he was as hard as a rock? Was it right when deep down that disturbing little part of him was indeed dying to get his tongue on those feet? Why should he complain? Why couldn't he just give in to his lust. Just this once.

"Woof!" he replied and as they predictably laughed at him while they lay down on their beds as comfortably as they could, Francis didn't wait for any of them to add another word. He leaned forward and started to lick Shawn's feet. His friend's feet... no. His master's feet had a much better ring to it.