The following story is entirely fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. This story contains descriptions of sex between consenting, adult males. If such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, if you are under legal age, or if you are offended by such material DO NOT READ IT. The author retains all rights to this work and you may not copy or transmit it in any way except in it's entirety and with this disclaimer.
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Recap; Pt 1-4 College Jock Joe has a chance encounter with the sports hero of his jack off fantasies during a volunteer outing at the ballpark. Things go terribly wrong for Joe when his hero catches him masturbating in the clubhouse...Major League Baseball player Chris Stone decides it's time to test the limits of how low his new "ball boy" is willing to go.... Thanks to Chris, it doesn't take long for Joe's roommate Kevin, to figure out that Joe is a queer.
Where we left off:
Kevin takes the opportunity to torment his roommate by sharing his morning piss/shower/jack off session while leaving the bathroom door open. Joe cannot fully enjoy the moment; Chris demands his attention on the phone and orders him to meet him for breakfast:
-- He glanced at his watch. In spite of his intense desire to jack off during his roommate's well-intended show, his time was slipping. If he was going to be across town in a half-hour, he needed to move, and fast. He stood and walked to the window. He grabbed the now dry, but crusty jockstrap and slid it on. In record time, he dressed himself. He heard the water from the shower stop as he was tying his sneakers.
"See ya Kev." He blurted as he darted from his bedroom to the door.
"Yeah, I know you did, fuckin faggot". Kevin groaned as he heard the door slam. Kevin reached down and shook the remaining drops of warm cum from the tip of his dick. He looked hard at himself in the mirror. His plan was just warming up.
Part 5
On the bus across town, Joe stared out the window. The heel of his hand was pressed firmly against his stiff dick. The image of Kevin stroking his cock in the shower would not leave his mind. Sorting it out, Joe gathered that someone from the stadium must surely have called the dorm and reached Kevin. Kevin already knew. Joe sighed. How could he have been so stupid?
He decided to work this out with Chris. Things had gone too far. Surely Chris would understand.
The brakes of the bus squealed to its last stop near the warehouse district. Joe hopped off and began a fast paced walk four blocks down to the Pig n Whistle. Somehow, meeting Chris away from the stadium gave him a curious source of pride. As he walked, he remembered the shoebox under his bed that was overflowing with baseball cards, news clippings and photos of Christ Stone. This man was his hero, and now he was becoming a friend.
Entering the diner, Joe adjusted his eyes to the dimly lit space. Cigar smoke lingered throughout the space, causing a fog-like haze. His eyes scanned the space for Chris. A line of men sat on stools at the counter. The sounds of gruff laughter and tableware clinking against cheap porcelain filled his ears. Joe looked beyond the counter and spotted Chris sitting alone in a corner booth at the far end of the diner.
"Morning Chris!" Joe spoke, assembling a tone of cheerful respect.
"Sit down ballboy." Chris replied and smirked as he looked at Joe. Still wearing the dickslime from the night before on his face, Joe looked quite amusing to Chris. Joe slid into the circular booth and sat opposite Chris.
Both men sat quietly. Joe gazed at Chris, absorbing his handsome, rugged good looks. As he gazed at the baseball legend, he retrieved every mental moment that had entered his fantasies. And now, here he was, sitting opposite him - and even wearing his jockstrap! Joe's cock raged as he mentally mapped every inch of his face. Chris studied the menu, pausing only to glare at Joe with a raised eyebrow from time to time.
"What can I do ya for?" boomed the voice of the waiter, snapping Joe from his lust trance. Joe looked up at the man, a hulking, beefy bald man in a greasy white T-shirt. The waiter was the owner, cook and chief bottle washer. His grin revealed a battery of yellowed, rotten, or missing teeth.
"Hey Hank," Chris replied. "I think I'll have the usual." The waiter looked at Joe and then back at Chris and grinned. Without another word, the waiter retreated behind the counter into the kitchen.
"He didn't take my order..." Joe eyes followed the waiter.
"He knows what you want to eat queerboy." Chris let out a chuckle at Joe's naivete'.
"Look Chris," Joe mustered the courage to reason with his hero. "I can't do this...I can't play this game."
Chris leaned back and raised his arms behind his head and gave a thoughtful look at the young, talented college jock before him. On some levels he pitied Joe, but his overwhelming disgust allowed him to abandon any measure of sympathy. Chris reached into his shirt pocket, withdrew a folded piece of paper and placed it on the table.
"Oh, I think you can." Chris slid the piece of paper across the table to Joe and smiled a big toothy grin.
Joe opened the piece of paper and read it. Joe looked back up to Chris as the blood began to drain from his face. Written on the paper was his parent's telephone number!
"It'd be an awful shame if good ol dad were to discover his son is a worthless cocksucker..." Chris glared at him, never allowing his grin to fade. His eyes were sinister, almost menacing. Joe fondled the piece of paper and swallowed hard.
"Chris..." Joe stammered over his words. "Isn't there some way we can work this out? Isn't there something I can do??" His mouth was dry, his plea strained. Joe's dad was a retired US Marine, a career Gunny Sargent. Joe always struggled to earn his dad's respect, and he realized that one phone call from Chris would destroy years of effort.
"Blow me ballboy," Chris leaned back and pointed a finger to his crotch. "While I consider it."
"Here?" Joe's eyes took a quick inventory of the small gathering of men at the counter. "You can't be serious!"
"Here. NOW." Chris yanked Joe's arm firmly, pulling Joe tightly against him. Forcefully, he grabbed Joe's hand and lowered it to his crotch. Joe could feel the firmness of Chris's cock through his sweat pants. His fingers drew around the steel-hard shaft instinctively. Chris held his wrist firm as Joe groped.
"Here ya go buddy." Hank bellowed and dropped a plate of steak and eggs in front of Chris. He stared at the young, college jock pressed tightly against his famous patron and smirked as he watched Joe's arm disappear into Chris's groin. Chris winked up at him.
"Thanks Hank." Chris squeezed Joe's hand as Hank turned away from them. Reaching down, Chris grabbed the waistband of his sweats and yanked it down, his meaty cock springing up, arching up and dripping like a candle. Wide eyed, Joe stared down at the throbbing shaft and licked his lips unconsciously, then back up at Chris.
"Get down there ballboy. I ain't got all morning." Chris slouched down in the booth, reached behind Joe's head and pulled him down hard, forcing his lips onto his dick. He watched in victory as his cocksucker slid from the cool vinyl seat onto his knees below the table. Joe brought his lips up to his hero's manhood and began slurping, suckling like a baby boy and savoring the precum that had formed. Chris carved his steak and smiled as he scanned the room. While Joe began to suck his bone in earnest, Chris made eye contact with each of the men at the counter. The obscene slurping sounds coming from beneath the table were just loud enough to be heard over the din of breakfast chatter. He flashed a sign of accomplishment across the diner. He was only too happy to let these real men know he owned himself a college queer. These were the type of guys that'd fuck anything. Chris knew that and smiled as he looked down at Joe, then back up at them, never adjusting the angle of his head.
Joe, humiliated but determined, bobbed his head up and down on the veiny cock like a madman, occasionally slamming his head up against the table, making a sound loud enough to draw attention to his activities. The men at the counter would glance over and grin as the slurped their coffee. Joe's desire to please Chris had all but overwhelmed his fear of being detected. This man's penis had become his passion, his world. Sucking his hero was, he rationalized, an honor.
Chris took his time eating as his dick was being worked over. He dined like a perfect gentleman while Joe worshipped his bone. The power he had over the little faggot gave him intense pleasure. He felt sperm in his sack begin to churn as he swallowed the last corner of his toast. He slid the table away from him and placed his palm squarely in Joe's head, forcing his shaft deeper down Joe's throat. As Joe began to gag, Chris felt his stomach muscles tighten. He loved the sound of a queer choking of his dick. He pressed Joe's head down harder, jamming Joe's nose tight against his bush. He looked up to Hank and gestured for him to clear the table.
"OH fuck yeah...Drink it down faggot..." He groaned as he felt his sperm begin to drain in Joe's mouth. His thighs twitched as his bullets of cum pumped, load after creamy load, down Joe's warm throat. He smiled up to Hank who stood at the table and watched lustfully while Chris emptied his nuts. Hank rubbed the lump in his pants as he cleared the table with his free hand.
"Oh fuck, Hank," Chris mumbled as he wiped his mouth with the napkin. "That hit the spot!" Joe dared not look up, he remained still and continued to swallow his hero's seed. He could feel Hank's eyes burning through the back of his head.
"Glad you enjoyed the breakfast special Chris!" Hank chuckled, dropped the check on the table and walked away from the lurid scene. He knew what was coming next and his cock lurched in his greasy black n white checkered pants.
Chris yanked Joe's mouth of his dick, causing an obscene "fwap" sound, and tugged the college boy up to a seated position. Joe's face was a bright shade of crimson. Trails of Chris's seed were draining from each side of his mouth. Chris grinned as he hooked his thumbs onto the waistband of his sweatpants and returned his cock back into its enclosure. He patted his crotch, picked up the check from the table and glared at Joe.
"I hope you brought some money to pay for your meal." He grinned. He slid the check across the table. Joe picked up the check, his eyes opening wide as he stared at the fee.
"$50 bucks??" Joe stammered incredulously.
"That's right ballboy." Chris barked. "Pay up!" He held out his hand.
"I don't have that kind of cash!" Joe moaned.
"Gee, that's an awful shame." A twinkle came across Chris' eye as he called Hank back to the table. The hulking waiter waddled from behind the counter and stood at the table, his hands on his hips, a huge bulge snaking down his thigh.
"It seems like we're a little short on cash here Hank." Chris looked at the man and then back at Joe. He patted Joe on the head condescendingly. "This young buck has volunteered to help you out in the kitchen though. He'll do anything you need..." Joe let out a low groan, all at once realizing he had been set up. "Won't you Joe?" Chris fingered the piece of paper with Joe's home phone number on it. Joe nodded submissively. Hank forged an angry expression and sneered at Joe.
"Get in the kitchen son." Hank tugged at his crotch and winked at Chris. "I have some chores you can do." Joe reluctantly slid away from Chris and stood up. Chris stared at the plainly obvious tent in Joe's pants, smirked and grabbed him firmly by the wrist.
"I'm taking batting practice at the park with some Triple A guys this afternoon. I told em I had someone who wants to chase their balls." Chris smiled at Joe and twisted his wrist. Joe grimaced. "Be there at 2:00...ballboy." He released Joe's wrist. As Joe followed the beefy waiter into the kitchen, he heard Chris chortle. The men at the counter eyed Joe as he disappeared behind the chest-high set up counter into the grille area. They glanced at each other, nodded and smiled. They focused their attention on the pass-through window, and waited for the show.
Hank wasted no time in the kitchen. Joe watched at the obese man unhooked his belt, unzipped his fly and in one fell swoop, his pants fell to the greasy floor with a thud. Joe stepped back, all at once repulsed by the hideous bulk in front of him. Hank reached down and tugged on his stubby, thick cock.
"Get over here faggot." His voice was loud and angry. He shook his fat cock at Joe. "You want me to go out there and tell all those sonofabitches I got me a cocksucker back here?"
"I think there's some mistake..." Joe's voice trembled as he stared at the man's hardening prick.
"The only mistake here is you queerboy." Hank snarled. "And now you're gonna get down on your knees and pay for your breakfast!" He shuffled over to Joe and roughly placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. Joe collapsed to his knees on the slimy tile floor. Before he knew what was happening, Hank was slapping him in the face with his cock. Joe opened his mouth. He knew there was no way out of this.
"Yeah" Hank groaned..."Fucking suck it faggot...Eat my hog good." Grabbing the teen by the ears, Hank jammed his throbber deep into his victim's throat. Thrust after thrust he assaulted the kid's mouth. Joe looked up in anguish, repulsed by the man. Hank laughed loud and spit a fat, mucous heavy snot on Joe's face. The oral rape went on and on.
"You fuckin pussy..." Hank roared as he pulled his chubby from Joe's mouth. He stood there and jacked his cock inches away from Joe's face. He turned away from the teen and leaned over, shoving his fat, beefy ass in Joe's face. "Lick my hole faggot...NOW!" Hank bellowed and pulled his hairy ass cheeks wide with each hand.
Joe stared at the crusty ass opening and felt the urge to vomit. Shaking, he closed his eyes and leaned forward, the smell revolting him. His tongue lapped gingerly at the dried shit crevice. He couldn't believe he was doing this. Hank let out a grunt, then a very odorous fart rolled out from the tight hole. Joe closed his eyes tighter as his tongue made contact with the opening.
"Yeah queerboy!" Hank moaned as he felt Joe's tongue collapse up in his asshole. With one hand he steadied himself on the pass through window. With the other, he pounded his cock over the grille. "You like the taste of a real man's ass dontcha? He chortled as he made eye contact with the men sitting at the counter. "C'mon get that tongue WAY up in there!! Yeah...That's right...chow down on Hank's shitpipe real good..."
The men at the counter slurped their coffee and grinned as they watched and listened to ol Hank get his nut. It was the best show in town.
"Oh fuck!" Hank felt Joe's tongue sliding deep into his hole and gave his boner a long mighty jack. Cum shot from his dick and landed with a splat on a short stack of pancakes. His knees shook from the orgasm. He opened his eyes to see his line of customers applauding with him their eyes. Hank winked.
Turning to Joe, he shook the remainder of his cum onto the teen's helpless face. He bent and pulled his briefs and pants back up. He stared hard at Joe as he zipped his fly back up slowly. The sight of the queer on his floor with cum on his face amused and disgusted him simultaneously. He reached down, yanked Joe's hair and pulled him to his feet.
"Come with me." Hank commanded.
"Where are we going?" Joe queried, his voice now above a whisper.
"Shut up and follow." Joe stepped in line behind the man, following him to the men's room. He walked into the small room and inventoried the space; One toilet, no partition, one urinal and a small sink.
"Give me your clothes." Joe stepped back against the door, placing his hand on the knob. "NOW!" Before Joe could react, he felt the full force of Hanks backhand against his cheek. Joe fell to his knees, grabbing the intense sting on his face. Hank pulled his hand back into position for the next blow. Joe recoiled.
"Now faggot!" Joe stood and quickly removed his clothing. Hank inspected the shaking teen. Joe's hard prick revealed more than Hank needed to know. Hank pulled his clothing and sneakers up from the floor and threw them out the men's room door.
"Now get on your knees and clean up this room. When you're done, we're even."
"With what?" Joe fell to his knees and looked around for cleaning materials but found none.
"With your tongue faggot." Hank grabbed Joe by the back the hair and shoved his face against the crusty urinal. "Lick it clean." He pushed hard and waited for Joe to begin lapping away at the dried piss on the rim. "Yeah. That's right...work for your breakfast queer." Hank watched in glee at the plight of the pitiful excuse for a man.
"And don't come out until it's squeaky clean!" Hank warned and exited the door. Picking up the teen's clothes, he walked back to the counter and dropped them in a pile on the floor. He retreated back to the grille area and looked at the cum coated pancakes. Hank scooped the stack up and placed them in a styrofoam take-out box. He looked through the window at the men at the counter as he scribble "ballboy" on the box.
"Last guy in gives him his clothes back." He smiled at the men as they raised their mugs to toast their main man.
To be continued.
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