Dorm Servant to the Rotc

This story is fiction. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. It's copyrighted 2020 by The Jordan Project, all rights reserved outside of Nifty. The reader comes first, so I welcome feedback. Please take some time to provide it to JordanProject@protonmail.com. What works? What doesn't work?

Note: This story starts out a bit slowly. I think credibility in plot, scenes, and characters matters, and that takes words. Reader, your patience will be rewarded. You will find plenty of kink here. I suggest reading all the way through, and then returning to your favorite parts later.

Synopsis: Young Billy, a shy and naturally submissive 18-year-old college freshman, becomes the chastity servant to five tall, strong, stiff-dicked ROTC alpha males in his dorm. Themes include SPH, adult age regression, chastity, and D/S. Enjoy!

Another note: This story will continue. There will be more chapters. Feedback will help, and I will consider making changes in response to criticism and suggestions.

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DORM SERVANT TO THE ROTC – Chapter 1 By Cody Jordan

Billy Wickersham's father drove him to campus a day early on account of a business meeting on the official move-in day. It gave the shy 18-year-old the opportunity to move into his shared dorm room by himself and avoid the following day's chaos. Some other students had arrived early, but the atmosphere was uncrowded and relaxed.

Room 1014 was 12 feet wide and 20 feet long, with a "couch" on each side facing the other, each actually being a bed designed to slide underneath back rests during the day and outward at night, with no more than a few feet between. The rests folded up, revealing shelves inside. There was a large shared desk, with built-in lamps and bookcases. A dresser on one side, split down the middle, and a shared closet on the other. Billy's father had attended the same university on the G.I. Bill after World War II, and whistled in amazement.

"We always complained that they packed us in like sardines, but this is even tighter," he said, with a laugh. "I have to admit that they've done a pretty good job of figuring out every square inch, but this is something! Well, I hope your roommate's feet don't stink, 'cause you're going to smell 'em!"

Billy unpacked his clothes and a hot plate, and filled one side of the dresser and half the closet.

"Dad, maybe you should take two of these suitcases back home," he said, laughing along with his father at the tightness of the accommodations. "There's no room in here!"

"Look on the bright side, son," his father said. "They at least provided a little refrigerator for the beer you're not supposed to have. And you'll have plenty of reasons to spend time with Sally. You won't want to be hanging around in this coffin!"

Sally Healy and Billy had been dating in high school, but his intentions had always been a good deal more serious than hers. He harbored the illusion that they were going steady and would be engaged. Truth be told, she regarded Billy as a safe harbor when she lost control of herself. The times they'd had sex were, for her, part comfort and part pity.

He'd had been a varsity swimmer and sprinter, but not a champion. She was two inches taller than he, and one of the most attractive girls in their class. She enjoyed the attention that she got from all the boys, especially the taller and rougher football players and wrestlers. At some level, Billy was aware of it, but did his best to ignore her excursions. He worshiped the athletes, serving as equipment manager for the football team. They'd informally adopted him as a mascot, extending protective immunity from the exuberant bullying they sometimes meted out to the smaller athletes in the minor sports.

Maybe his faithful friendship would bring her closer in college, he thought.

Billy absented himself from the room, leaving a note for his new roommate welcoming him. It would be crazy enough dodging the crowded hallways, it said, so he'd be back late in the afternoon.

"Hey there!" his new roommate said when he entered. "I'm Rick Jackson. You're Bill Wickersham, then?"

Billy saw his belongings from the dresser stacked neatly on the bed opposite the one he'd claimed, along with what he'd placed in the cubbies behind the bolster.

"I hope you don't mind what I did," Rick said, smiling. "Wherever I go, I always take the right side. I switched the closet, but I figured you'd want to pack your own dresser and all the other stuff."

He was gigantic, standing more than 6 foot 4, plus another 2-1/2 inches for the heels on his boots. Rick extended his hand to shake, and Billy found his embraced by a bear claw attached to the arm of a Viking god.

"You're m-m-my roommate?" he said, awestruck. "You're 18 years old?!"

"Yeah, welcome to the club of people who don't believe it," Rick said with a laugh. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a driver's license from his wallet. "Have a look. I'm really 18 years old, honest. The good side is that everyone thinks I'm 28, so I've been buying beer and booze since I was 15. Never get asked for my I.D."

Rick Jackson had dark blond hair, a square jaw, piercing blue eyes, and a flat-top crewcut. His T-shirt stretched tightly over a wide chest, while his cargo pants hung loosely but didn't disguise his thick legs or hide the bulge below his belt buckle. Billy glanced at his feet, and his new roommate noticed.

"Never wear a size 14," he said, with a chuckle. "You wind up paying way too much for shoes and boots, when you can find them. I started growing when I was eight years old, and I'm not sure if I'm done yet. I was so big so early that by 9th grade I got the nickname 'Dad' from a bunch of 'em. They'd say things like, 'Dad, can you buy us some beer?' Stuff like that."

"Were you on the football team?" Billy asked, staring upward into his new roommate's eyes. "You'd have made a great middle linebacker, being so big and everything."

"Yeah, that's what the coach said too," he answered. "I did it for a while, but when I broke my shin I decided to bag it. Wanted to be a wrestler, but the weight classes didn't fit in my state. Too big and slow for track, and the school was too small for stuff like the hammer throw. So all I did was lift weights a lot."

If Rick looked 10 years older than he was, Billy was 18 going on 14 or maybe even younger. He was short and compact, weighing only 140 pounds and standing 5'4" in his stocking feet, something he tried to augment by wearing boots (size 8) with tall heels and elevator inserts. Light blond, with boyish good looks, his body almost completely hairless, and his face needing a razor maybe once a week. He instantly found himself back in high school with respect to his friendly roommate: the mascot, go along to get along. It was a familiar role and besides, what was he going to do, fight the guy?

Billy's shyness was counterbalanced by an agreeable and cheerful nature, having once been voted "most helpful" by his high school classmates. He'd learned to be cautious in how he expressed this part of his personality, but he was hard-wired to please. He'd be helpful to just about everyone, but especially to the big, strong athletes who comprised the football, baseball and wrestling teams. He knew right away that he'd found a college dad. He could trust his roommate, and would do anything he could for him.

Their issue began with girls, as it often does in college.

It turned out that they were attending the same university for opposite reasons. Rick had contrived to attend this one to get away from his clinging high school girlfriend, while Billy was there in hopes of winning his girl's heart.

"Everyone wanted us to go to the same college and get married," Rick said one night. "My folks and loans are paying the bills, so I applied there and to here. No one knew, but I called the other one and told 'em I didn't want to go. They turned me down like I wanted, so here I am. Free at last!"

Billy confided that he wasn't at all sure if he'd ever convince Sally to get engaged.

"I wanted to, but she wants to wait until graduation," he said, mournfully. "I don't know if she's interested at all."

"Bring her around sometime," Rick said. "Maybe I can help scope it out."

A week later, the three of them met in the cafeteria. It was obvious to Rick that Sally was more interested in him than she was in Billy. No amount of politeness on her part could disguise it, except from Billy, who went into his usual denial mode.

"So what do you think?" Billy asked the next day.

"Not quite sure," Rick lied. "Why don't we go see that one band at the Key on Saturday? You got a fake I.D., or will you have to sit in the kid section?"

The bars in the university town had worked out a deal with the local authorities: Underage students could enter, but had to sit in a balcony on the second floor.

"I'm afraid I'd have to sit upstairs," Billy said. "Sally's got a fake I.D. from home, but I don't."

That weekend, Sally brought a few girls without I.D.s, and they accompanied Billy and a couple of guys from the floor to the bar, leaving Rick and Sally alone together in the adult section.

"So what about Billy?" Rick asked between sets as he poured beer from a pitcher.

"God, he's like a puppy dog!" she said, laughing. "I've been trying to let him down easy, but I swear he won't take a hint."

Billy was a nice enough guy, she said, but he was boring and conventional. No fun at all. Loosened up by the beer, she whispered in Rick's ear.

"He's got a really small one," she said. "I can barely even find it! I bet you don't have that problem! I'm Mustang Sally, and all I want to do is ride, Sally, ride!"

"You just might get the chance, Mustang Sally," he replied with a wink. "And you'll have no problem finding my stick shift."

The following day, Rick gave his roommate the bad news.

"I don't think you ought to chase that one," he said, omitting the one detail. "Your gal Sally isn't ready to be settling down. You might want to start looking around."

Rick made fast friendships with others on the floor, including a football player, a student who was attending on a ROTC scholarship, and a few others. They'd get together in each others' rooms to drink beer, smoke marijuana, play poker, and talk about girls. Billy was often there too, but sometimes felt like an odd man out in the boisterous company.

Inside their room, Rick would often relax with his pants unbuttoned, and sometimes just in shorts that made the size of his endowment clear. It was a game of enticement and Billy did his best not to stare, but Rick would occasionally catch him looking and grin. One morning, when he saw his roommate's wood outlined in tight boxer shorts, Billy realized that Rick's dick was almost as long as two beer cans and nearly as thick.

At one of the card game bullshit sessions, Dave

Smith, a tall, lean agriculture student who was majoring in accounting and business with the intent of using his education to run the Nebraska cattle ranch he was going to inherit, laughed about the first class of the semester.

"The stats class is all guys, so the professor said he'd have a little fun with the basics," said, his voice a Western twang sharp enough to cut glass. "He had everyone measure their dicks, their shoe size, their height, and their hands, and report anonymously. Then he brought a shoe size measurer, a height measurer, and a tape measure for our hands, and picked enough people to make sure we told the truth."

"So how'd it work out?" Rick said, laughing. "Are stats hounds studs or not?"

"The average stiff dick size is 5-3/4," Dave replied. "Anyone above 8 is a super-stud. Anyone below 4-1/4 is a shrimp, and anyone below 3-1/2 is a boy. The stats class average was 6-1/4, which made us studlier than two-thirds of all men. We rule, fellas, so who's gonna get me a beer?"

"Depends on what you measured," another guy said.

"Solid 8," Dave said, laughing. "Want to see it, or will you just get me a beer?"

Everyone laughed, and someone fetched him a beer.

"The professor said that normals should always get the super-studs get a tall boy," Dave said. "Everyone should keep super-studs away from their girlfriends unless they are also studs or super-studs, and shrimps and boys should do whatever the super-studs tell 'em to do."

Rick laughed.

"Someone get me a tallboy," he said. "Big dicks rule!"

"Oh, yeah?" someone said.

"Well, guys, I'm not going to whip it out here unless you're hungering for it," he said, with a laugh. "But I wear a 14-12 EEE shoe. So someone better get me a tallboy or someone's gonna get bent over."

Billy laughed along with everyone else, but cringed inwardly. He had measured his dick in his senior year of high school, and it was just short of 4 inches hard, and 3 inches soft.

Billy had long been self-conscious about his stature, and especially about his dick. He took care not to expose it after the ribbing he'd taken in high school, and continued the pattern in the dorm. One morning he slipped. He emerged from the shower, and before he could grab his towel he found himself face-to-face with Rick. His flaccid member was 6 inches long, and his balls were big and tight.

"I guess we know who'll be fetching the tall boys," he said with a grin, as Billy lowered his eyes in embarrassment. "Hey, don't worry about it! You've got what you've got. Or not."

Rick began leaving one of his dirty magazines out. It was something called "Cuckold Review: Big Men Rule," and it showed pictures of attractive women with big tits, being screwed while their boyfriends watched. There was an article explaining what cuckolding was, and there were story-line pictures showing males in submissive poses, licking the cum left by the bigger Men.

Billy was careful to look at it only when Rick was at class, and always returned it to exactly where his roommate had left it. Until the afternoon when his roommate returned unexpectedly and found him beating off to a picture of a guy licking cum out of a pussy. He hurriedly stopped and rolled over, pretending to be asleep.

His roommate chuckled.

"I thought you might like that one," he said. "Big Men rule, eh Billy boy? But don't worry about it. You've got what you've got. Or not."

His roommate grabbed a couple of books from his side of the desk, and turned to leave.

"You can keep that magazine," Rick said, still chuckling. "Might come in handy again."

Rick began bringing girls to the room for sex. If a string was hanging on the doorknob, Billy had to find something else to do for an hour or two. Same the other way around, but they both knew that wasn't going to happen. Once or twice a week, Billy would find the string.

After the embarrassment in the shower, Billy's roommate was at least as friendly, if not more so. There was a subtle note of condescension involved. In a way that was the worst, because Billy couldn't target Rick for anything, even though there was an ever-present underlying humiliation at work.

At least there was Sally. They'd had sex a couple of times since they arrived. It consisted of Billy licking her pussy to bring her to orgasm while he masturbated, but it gave him hope. Until she dropped the bomb. After one of their sessions, when he began talking of engagement and marriage, she politely listened and then stunned him.

"I do care for you, Billy," she said with a note of pity in her voice. "But I need more. I've been seeing Rick."

It shouldn't have been a surprise. Billy had seen them together in the cafeteria a bunch of times, but he hadn't allowed himself to put two and two together.

"Seeing him?" Billy asked. "You mean ..."

"Yes, we've slept together," Sally answered. "I'm sorry, Billy, but I need more than you can give me."

"What, about twice as much more?" he asked, glumly.

"Come on, Billy," she said, "I did the same thing in high school. I know you knew. Besides, maybe there's a way it can work out this time without us playing this hide and seek."

She explained that she had given Rick the dirty magazine and suggested he leave it out.

"Rick says he found you masturbating to it," Sally said. "Maybe the three of us could do those things. Rick could use his thing on me, and you could clean up and make me orgasm afterwards."

Billy's mind reeled at the multiple shocks.

"I-I-I-I don't know what to say," he replied.

"I know it's hard to take in," she said, sweetly. "Give it some thought. Billy, it's really the only way you and I can continue. I need what Rick has, and maybe you have some needs that you haven't realized."

"Hey, Billy, she was the one who came after me," Rick said that night when Billy confronted him. "I don't need to steal girlfriends. They've been running after me forever."

As for the threesome, Rick explained that he'd done the same thing in high school.

"It wasn't my idea," he said. "The guy wanted to do it, and being the horny bastard that I am, I said okay."

They'd done it together for the better part of a year, until the girl moved away.

"He'd lick my balls while I was screwing her, and sometimes I'd stick it in his mouth and finish off there," Rick said. "After she moved, he wanted to keep on sucking my dick but I told him I wasn't interested in a fulltime queer."

He had nothing against them, he said, but didn't want any guys or even girls falling in love with him.

"Guys were always hitting on me," he said. "I told 'em if they're queer they'd need to find someone else. I even made some matches for 'em."

Billy was amazed and humiliated.

"So if I do this, then I'm not a queer?" he asked. "Because I'm not one."

"You know, it really doesn't matter to me," Rick said, chuckling. "Some guys just want to follow a bigger guy's orders. That's really what the guy in high school was about. Anyway, you can think it over. I'd dump any chick who told me to do that, but everyone's different. Totally your call, Billy. Different strokes for different folks."

Billy asked if his roommate would do him a favor and not screw Sally for a couple weeks while he had time to consider the offer. This was so new he didn't know what to think about it yet.

"Yeah, sure," Rick replied. "I'll even do you better. I'll wait until the end of the month. That's almost four weeks. I've got plenty of other girls to fuck in the meantime."

"Thanks," Billy said. "I just need to think about it."

"Not a problem," Rick said. "Now how about fetching me a tallboy, and then running down to the cafeteria and getting me a couple sandwiches and some chips?"

A week later, Billy told Rick that he'd do the three-ways as long as they both understood that he wasn't queer.

"If you change your mind about that, make sure to say so, because I don't want anyone falling in love with me," Rick replied. "I get chased enough as it is by the girls."

"It's a deal," Billy said.

After that, Rick was just as gregarious and friendly as always, but Billy became more aware of their differences. His roommate's casual confidence, the regular stream of girls, along with his size and now the tentative agreement about Sally, made him even more of a dominant figure for Billy. Rick sensed the change, and subtly played it. He would put his arm around Billy's shoulder on the way to or from the cafeteria, and talk to him in a tender voice, as if he was a son or a little brother.

"I heard back from the guy in high school who I told you about," he said one day back in the dorm room. "He joined the Marines after he graduated. Turns out he worried a lot about being a queer, but once he went through boot camp he realized that he wasn't one."

"What does he think about what happened, then?" Billy asked. "Does he regret it?"

"Hell no," Rick replied. "Matter of fact, he ran into one of his drill sergeants in a bar after he got out of boot camp, and wound up sucking the guy off. Said he didn't get a hardon. Just wanted to be ordered to do it. Different strokes."

"But I've got a question," Rick added. "The one time I walked into the room and you were beating off to the guy licking the other guy's balls and then his cum out of the girl's cunt, were you hard for the guy?"

"I don't know," Billy replied. "I like women, but if a guy's bigger and stronger then he makes the rules. I think the worst would be if some guy wanted to suck my dick. I'm not even sure I'd want a woman to suck it seeing as how small it is."

"I hear that, Billy," Rick said. "When I walked in on you the one time, there wasn't a lot there. What, 3 or 4 inches maybe?"

" Four," Billy replied, mournfully. "More like 3 when it's soft."

"Look, Billy, I'll make you a deal," Rick said. "You just be yourself, and I won't put you down for it. I'll make sure Sally doesn't either.

Okay?"

"That's a deal," Billy said.

"You're what, maybe 5'5" and 145 pounds?" Rick asked one night.

"A little shorter and lighter, but that's pretty close," Billy said. "What's it like to have guys looking up to you? Must be nice."

"It is pretty cool," Rick said, with a chuckle. "Every now and then, some asshole will try to make an issue and then I've got to put him down. But it doesn't happen too often. Pops always told me to walk tall, carry a big stick, and try to be a good guy to everyone."

"In high school, I got bullied for a while and it was really tough to handle," Billy said. "My father told me if I got in good with bigger guys they could be school dads and protect me. So when you told me a while back that a lot of guys called you 'Dad,' it really hit me that maybe you'd be one of those guys."

Rick smiled, moved over to Billy's bed-couch and ruffled his hair.

"I'll be your college dad then," he said. "Comes natural."

"As long as you don't tell anyone," Billy said. "I don't want everyone screwing around with me. I'll never hear the end of it."

"It'll be our word," Rick replied. "Not even Sally will know."

"That's a deal, college dad!" Billy said.

"Okay, little guy," Rick said, chuckling. "Why don't you grab me a tallboy?"

It was only a week before the end of the month, and Rick asked Billy if he'd changed his mind. No, he answered, he had decided.

"Well, just to be sure, I want you to try licking my balls and swallowing my squirt," Rick said. "I don't want any surprises later on, and it'll give me a chance to show you how I like it. Some of the girls I've been screwing like to lick my nuts along the way, and I have to train them to do it right."

"It doesn't mean ..." Billy started to say, before Rick interrupted.

"Look, Billy," he said. "If you're going to do this next week, you might as well try it now to make sure you don't freak out."

"Okay, dad," Billy said. "It sounds reasonable. It threw me there, 'cause I've never even thought about doing anything like that."

"Then grab me a tallboy, little guy," Rick said, as he grabbed a joint and lit it. "Might as well get right to it, then."

He peeled off his shorts, and his erection sprang out. It was gigantic with a big, cut dickhead. His balls were tight and almost as large as a big orange, and he had shaved them.

"Billy, I don't want you to suck my dick," Rick said, as he stroked his hard on. "Just lick my balls, and when I'm ready to cum I'll tell you. Then open your mouth and I'll squirt into it."

"Okay, college dad," he said. "Can I have a hit or two?"

"Sure," Rick said, passing the joint. Billy went to work.

"Nice and gentle," Rick said. "Treat 'em like an ice cream cone, and lick behind 'em too. Get everything good and slick."

Billy followed the order, and his roommate smiled downward.

"Yeah, that's right, little guy," he said, rubbing his scalp with his knuckles. "You're doing it just right."

Rick was sitting on the edge of his couch-bed as Billy knelt on the floor, working.

"Here it comes," he said. "Now open your mouth, little guy."

The spasms started, and Billy felt his mouth filling up. He swallowed, and then Rick reached behind his balls and coated a couple of his fingers with the mixture of his sweat and Billy's saliva. When he'd swallowed the last, Rick rubbed his fingers on Billy's upper lip. He leaned back, finished.

"I want to be sure you taste and smell all that for the rest of the night," he said. "You can tell me tomorrow if you still want to go through with it. Just so you know, you did a real good job for me just now."

The long buildup was over. Sally, Rick, and Billy were in the dorm room, and Rick was screwing her naked while Billy, fully clothed, licked his roommate's balls. It lasted a good deal longer than it had with just the two of them, but eventually he saw Rick's balls and dick spasm. As he'd been told, he lapped up the cum while bringing Sally to orgasm.

Exhausted, Rick and Sally laid on his bed, while Billy laid on his, watching them.

"That was really nice, Billy," Sally said, and Rick complimented him on the good job he had done. She left quickly, and Rick spoke.

"That work out for you?" he asked. "Think you can get used to it?"

"It was better than I thought it would be," Billy replied. "I'm glad I could make both of you happy."

"Good enough, then," Rick said. "By the way, my old man's gonna be stopping by tomorrow. Wants to see the room and meet you. He's a piece of work, alright!"

He handed Billy another magazine.

"Sally gave me this, but you'd better hide it and the other one somewhere good in case my Pops starts looking around," Rick said. "She wanted you to have it."

It was louder than a knock, but short of pounding. Rick had prepared for his father's visit by shaving and dressing early, but Billy was startled out of his sleep. It was only 8 in the morning. Rick opened the door to let his father in, and he bounded into the room.

"Pops, they've got a room down the hall for gatherings," Rick said. "Why don't we hang out there and give Billy a chance to get up."

"Okay, sounds good!" the Man said loudly, casting a glance around the room. "Damn, looks like a shoebox in here. They pack you guys in like rats."

Rick laughed, and led his father out.

"Half hour enough, Billy?" he said over his shoulder.

"Yeah, sure," he answered, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He put a pot of coffee on and went to the bathroom, and when he returned he found Rick dressed in a green and tan Marine Corps uniform.

"What's that all about?" he asked.

"You were probably too sleepy to see my Pops," his roommate answered. "He's a Marine colonel, and he's been on my case to join ROTC. He wanted me to wear it today. He's going to put the arm on me again."

Just then, Rick's father entered the room as Billy was getting dressed.

"Hiya there, Billy!" he fairly shouted, sticking his hand out to shake.

"Hello," Billy said, struggling to find a free hand to press into Col. Douglas Jackson's big mitt. "Do you mind if I finish getting my clothes on and grab a cup of coffee? I'll only be a second."

"Geez, Pops," Rick said in an exasperated tone. "Give the guy a chance to get dressed, okay?"

"Alright, alright," the colonel said with a laugh. "I've been up since 0500. Don't get to sleep in like you spoiled college boys!"

Billy collected himself and sipped some coffee, then faced them. Rick was the spitting image of his father, a powerfully built Man whose muscles bulged against the fabric of his tight uniform shirt. He was in his early 40s, with the same square jaw and piercing blue eyes as his son, but maybe an inch shorter. He glanced below the clasps on their belts, and saw that their uniform trousers couldn't hide what was there.

"They really got you fellas jammed in here," he said. "Billy, I'm surprised there's even any room for you next to Rick here."

"I make do," Billy replied. "I'm not used to military stuff, so do I call you Mr. Jackson or Col. Jackson? What's the right thing?"

"Colonel and 'sir,' " Rick said. "I've been calling my father 'sir' since I could talk, so you might as well too. But I get to call him Pops instead of colonel, unless I join the ROTC like he wants me to."

"Okay sir," Billy said. "Pleased to meet you, sir."

"And my son here is wearing second lieutenant's bars, so it'll be 'lieutenant' and 'sir' to him," the colonel said. "I want him to know how it feels."

"Come on, Pops, he's my damn roommate," Rick protested. "Not only that, but I'm a civilian. Should I even be wearing this?"

"A civilian can wear any uniform he wants to," his father said. "If you go into ROTC, you'll start as enlisted and be subject to regulations. But not now. I just want you to get the feel of it."

Rick groaned, but knew he couldn't argue.

"Damn, son, that shirt's just about busting," he colonel said. "You still lifting weights?"

"Yes sir, I get to the gym as much as I can," he said. "Gained another 5 or 10 pounds, I reckon."

"Anyway, where's a place to get breakfast around here?" the colonel said. "Let's eat."

"Pops, we've got some ROTC students around here," Rick said. "I don't know if they're going to like this too much."

"You let me handle that," the colonel said. "Just make sure to salute 'em along the way if they're in uniform."

"Okay sir," Rick said, his tone embarrassed. "I hope it works, because I'm going to be taking all manner of shit for this, Pops."

A couple of ROTC students inquired when they saw them walking, but gladly accepted his father's explanation and urged Rick to join. They spent the day walking around the campus, and Rick started to like the attention he was getting, especially from the girls.

"Not so bad, is it?" the colonel said. "Billy, see how many looks my boy's been getting' today?"

"Truth be told, sir, he gets plenty of looks anyway, but I have to admit he's been getting more today," Billy said. "You've been getting a few yourself, sir!"

"Yeah, sometimes I got to fight 'em off," the colonel said, with a chuckle. "The older the gals get, the hungrier they get. But it looks like they're plenty hungry here!"

At dinner, the colonel twisted his son's arm. He'd pulled some strings, and Rick could join ROTC any time in his first year and get credit as if he'd been there from the start. It would save a lot of money; his school loans would be cancelled and he'd get a stipend every month.

"Now you know it's your call son," he said, "but it'd be a damn good deal."

Rick thought about it and spoke.

"I'm not saying yes right now, sir, but I want to make a deal if I do say yes," he said.

"Shoot."

"First, if I join ROTC, you and mom have to quit talking to me about Shelly," he said, referring to the girl they'd wanted him to marry. "I just don't want to hear about it. If there's ever something that ought to be up to me alone, that

one's right at the top of the list."

"Agreed," the colonel said. "In fact, we'll stop that right now no matter what you do, because you're right. My old Man tried to tell me who to marry, and it didn't end well for him. So you've got me on that one."

"Second, if I join, it'll be at the end of the year," Rick said. "I want my freedom for a while."

"Fair enough on that too," the colonel said. "But you'd have to do it before the end of the year and then spend your summers in training."

"And third, if I join ROTC, I'll have a military obligation afterwards," Rick said. "If I decide to go civilian after that, you and mom have to accept it. I'm not 21 yet, but I will be, sir, and it'll be my life."

"Can't argue with that either," the colonel said. "I won't like it, but it's your choice."

"Okay, Pops," Rick said, "but I know you're a Man of your word so I can trust the deal. I'll think it over and I'll let you know."

"Okey doke," the colonel said, knowing that his son had just decided to join ROTC. "Meantime, I'm going to leave the uniform here, and I'll send you a couple bigger shirts."

Rick laughed.

"Might not be a bad idea, sir," he said.

It dawned on Billy that the colonel hadn't tried to rope him into the military. His roommate's father was polite and friendly, but the unspoken reality was that he didn't measure up in the colonel's eyes.

"If I know you, I think you'll be getting some use out of that uniform while you're thinking it over," the colonel said, with a twinkle in his eye. "Son, make sure you get enough time to study in between banging every female on campus!"

Billy was amazed by something else: His roommate had driven a bargain with his military father, who had even agreed that his son was right on some things. He could never imagine himself doing something even remotely similar. His roommate was not only big and strong, but his smiles concealed a very tough interior. This was someone who's good side it paid to stay on.

Rick's father had fixed things with the campus ROTC to allow him to wear the uniform on ROTC days. It would help convince him to join up, the colonel said, so he'd appreciate it if his son would get a pass on it as long as the other students knew about it and agreed.

It was the late 1970s, and while the Vietnam turmoil on campuses had subsided, the military was not popular. Anything that raised their status on campus was welcomed within their ranks. As long as Rick adhered to their grooming standards, the ROTC director was fine with it, and so were the students, who were all in favor of a magnetic figure like Rick becoming one of them.

One quick result was that the string hung on the dorm room door more often. Sally was a visitor once a week, but they'd agreed nothing was exclusive. They both had wild oats to sow, and neither of them wanted to settle down. After their second session, Rick asked Billy if he'd had looked at the other magazine at all.

"Only a bit," he replied. "Maybe once or twice, but didn't spend any time with it."

"Take a good look, especially the back half," Rick said. "Sally wants you to do that."

Later, when his roommate wasn't around, Billy retrieved the thick magazine. The back half combined cuckoldery with chastity. The cuckolds not only licked the cum out of their girlfriends' or wives' snatches, but they wore devices that kept them from using their dicks for anything other than pissing.

It was his turn to be stunned again. He reviewed what had happened since arriving in college. His roommate was screwing his girlfriend. He was licking his roommate's balls and eating his cum out of his girlfriend's snatch. And now they wanted to take his dick away. His mind reeled, but he could understand it in a way that he couldn't quite articulate.

They had a third session with Sally, and the subject went unmentioned until the next day. It was an ROTC day, and Rick was in uniform that night. Billy had noticed that on those days, his roommate was still friendly, but more commanding.

"I've got a few things to talk about, but why don't you fetch me a tallboy first," Rick said. As he sat drinking his beer, his legs spread wide and showing what he had, he spoke.

"You know, Billy, I've arranged it so you can still see her, but you've never once thanked me," Rick said. "Why is that, after what I've done for you?"

"I don't know," he said. "I guess it didn't cross my mind."

"That's 'I don't know, sir' when I'm in uniform," Rick said.

"Okay, I don't know, sir," Billy said, chastened. "I guess it didn't cross my mind, sir."

"Well, make sure it does from now on, alright?" Rick said.

"Yes sir, I will," he answered.

"Now what about that other thing?" Rick said. "I can tell it's been on your mind."

"I don't see why I have to do it, sir," Billy said.

"Yeah, I can understand that," Rick said, his voice turning gentle. "It threw me a little when Sally mentioned it, but I got to thinking about it and I figure it makes sense."

"But shouldn't be that my own business, sir?" he replied. "What harm is it if I beat off by myself, anyway?"

"None that I know of, but it's the only way Sally's going to have anything to do with you," Rick said. "It's your decision. Either way's fine by me."

"Can I have some time to think about it, sir?" Billy said.

"Take as long as you want," Rick replied. "I'll be fucking her alone for the time being. But if you want to keep her attention, I wouldn't let a lot of time go by."

"Does it mean I won't ever get to cum?" Billy asked. "I don't know if I can handle that, sir."

"Those things have keys, and I'd hold it," Rick said. "You'd get to squirt off every now and then. Got to keep the pipes cleaned out."

The following Thursday morning, after Billy hadn't said anything, Rick informed him that he'd be screwing his girlfriend that night.

"Find something else to do from 7 to 9," he said.

That night, Billy sat in the library with his books, sulking and trying to suppress a worrying thought: He missed licking his roommate's balls as much as he missed Sally. The next day, he agreed to be caged.

"Next uniform day," Rick said. "It'll give you time to get the rest of your beatin' off in. Make sure to get a squirt in on the day you get locked up. And use my shaver to get rid of any hair down there, including on your balls."

That meant another missed encounter, and on the following Thursday Billy sulked again, thinking more of his roommate's equipment than of Sally. On the appointed day, he masturbated several times, thinking of Rick in his crisp military uniform.

"Okay, Billy, now just relax and hold your dick straight out while I put this on," Rick said, closing a metal ring around the top of his dick and balls and fastening it snugly with two clicks. Another piece consisted of a short, thick wire cage that curved to enclose the end of the wearer's penis, with a chrome tube extending a few inches backwards from a hole at the end of the cage.

Wearing rubber gloves, Rick applied K-Y jelly and inserted the tube into Billy's penis, then pushed inward and connected the attachment to the ring, with another click. Once fully connected, the device rendered Billy's dick about an inch long. Using a metal rod that fit at the top of the device and functioned as the key, Rick locked it and explained how it would allow Billy to piss.

"When you have to take a leak, press on the end and it'll let your piss out," he said. "When you're done, do the same thing to keep anything from coming out when you're walking around."

Rick held up a small metal rod.

"This is the key," he said. "When I put it inside the hole on the side of the ring, it'll unlock. You won't be able to get a hard-on until I do that, but you'll still be able to piss."

Billy stared at his roommate.

"I guess that puts you in charge of everything," he said, softly.

"That's right, little guy," Rick said. "I know this is different, but it will level you out and keep you in place. Once you get used to it, I think you're going to be happy with this."

"Yes sir," Billy replied. "It's probably the right thing."

"Tonight, I want you to lick my balls like you've been doing, but when I start cumming put your mouth right down there so I can pull out and finish off in it," Rick said on the morning of the next day the three of them were due to get together. "Then you lick her out like usual."

That night, when he saw the spasms start, he moved his mouth close to the intersection of Rick's erection and Sally's vagina. When Rick pulled out, he opened his mouth wide and his roommate put his stiffness inside and kept squirting. Billy swallowed furiously and got it all down his throat, and when the flow stopped he licked out the cum that Rick had deposited inside of Sally, and brought her to orgasm.

Billy had been in the habit of masturbating a couple times a day, so his first week was a challenge, both as a matter of frustration and of getting used to the device and the tube in his penis that made erections impossible. But as the days went by, he realized that his roommate had been correct about winding up happier for it. He began asking whether Rick needed a sandwich or a beer, and whether there was anything else he could do. Rick noticed his eagerness to please, and played to it. After a while, Billy was doing the laundry for both of them.

A few weeks into his cage time, Billy's parents and younger brother visited. His mother was a wisp of a woman, barely five feet tall and seemingly scared of her own shadow. His father, an accountant, lean and six feet tall, wore the pants in his family. If Billy took after his mother, his younger brother took after his father in stature, and was the most outgoing of the bunch.

"Billy, why don't you show your mother and John around the campus?" his father said after looking around the room they shared. "He's going to be going

to college here and I'm sure he'd like to see it, and so would your mother. Rick and I will get some lunch, and we'll meet back here in a few hours."

"We've heard all kinds of good things about you," Billy's father said to Rick. "He was a little worried right off the bat when you moved his things, but he said you weren't a bully like some of the kids back in his high school."

Rick nodded, an embarrassed look on his face.

"Sir, I scolded myself for moving his stuff," he said. "It's always been a thing with me to be on the right side of everything, but it probably sent the wrong impression. I'm glad that Billy understood, and when he told me what he'd gone through in high school, I made sure to be nice to him."

"He takes after his mother," the father said. "Not as shy, but he's the kind who can be pushed around."

"Sir, I hope it won't come across as flattery on my part, but you raised him right," Rick said. "He told me about your advice to him back then, and it was really good. I've always been at the other end of the scale, but my Pops took me aside early on and told me not to lord it over on other guys. He's a Marine Corps colonel and was pretty strict, but he always hated bullies and said he'd be damned if I turned into one."

"I guess he told you a lot," the father said. "Did Billy say that he got in with some of the biggest guys in his school? They protected him."

"He said you had told him to find 'school dads,' which made me laugh," Rick replied. "I had the nickname 'Dad' in high school on account of how I could buy beer without being asked for I.D. When I told the guys on the dorm floor, they started calling me 'Dad' too. As long as I can buy the beer!"

The father chuckled.

"He calls you his college dad," he said.

"Billy's a good kid, and I make sure no one hassles him around here," Rick said. "He's pretty eager to please, and that can be taken wrong."

The father nodded.

"Well, I appreciate you looking after him," he said. "I do worry about him pining after that Sally though. It has always seemed one-sided to me."

"That's what I think too, sir," Rick replied. "I think she cares for him, but she doesn't want to be tied down just yet. I'm not sure it matters all that much, sir. I think whoever Billy is with will run the show."

"You're probably right," the father said. "I just hope whoever that is understands him and doesn't turn him into a doormat."

"Sir, I wouldn't put up with it for 20 minutes, but there's a lot of women who wouldn't put up with me for 20 seconds," Rick said, with a grin. "Takes all kinds, I guess. At some point, Billy will have to decide where to draw the line. But that'll be his call."

The night after their fourth session with Sally, Rick had Billy change his cage himself. After Rick unlocked him, Billy removed the tube and the cage, then used Rick's electric shaver to remove the stubble that had grown near the large ring and nearby. He dropped the tube and cage into a pot of water that they'd boiled on their hotplate, and put on a pair of rubber gloves before fishing a second tube and cage out of a jar of alcohol.

Billy lubricated the large ring and reattached it behind his balls and at the top of his little dick and clicked it into place. Then he lubricated the new chrome tube and slid it into his piss slit, and pushed the cage toward the large ring and clicked the studs into matching holes on the big ring. Rick inserted his key, and Billy was locked in for another two weeks.

"Thank you for all of this, dad," Billy said.

"So this agrees with you, then?" Rick replied.

"Yes sir," Billy said. "The cage makes me realize that my father was right about how bigger Men are in charge."

"What about not being able to beat off?" Rick asked. "Isn't that pretty tough?"

"It was frustrating for the first week, but it only got better after that," Billy said. "I read those letters a few times, and I think I'd like to get told what to do, sir. Maybe suck dick if that's what anyone wants."

Rick chuckled.

"So you're not queer but you'll suck dick if that what a guy wants," he said. "And you want to get ordered around. Well, I'm not a bully, so I'm not going to do that. But I could ask Bart down the hall. I bet he'd do it, and so would a couple of his ROTC buddies."

Bart Whelan could have been on a recruiting poster. He stood 6'3", with dark brown hair, a V-shaped torso, and a square jaw and flattop crewcut that matched Rick's. On uniform days, he wore crisply starched tan Army utilities and walked with an aggressive swagger. Billy was almost instantly drawn to him, but now he was a bit worried.

"What does he know about me, sir?" he asked, worry in his voice. "If I did any of that with him, would it get around?"

Rick laughed.

"I can tell you this much right off," he said. "They'd keep it to themselves. In fact, I'm sure Bart will ask me if you can keep it to yourself."

"How do you know he wants to do any of that stuff?" Billy asked. "Did you tell him about me or something?"

"He and a couple buddies used to screw around with a guy in high school," Rick said. "Bart's dad is a state cop, and he and his buddies would play cops and robbers with the guy, so that's why I think they'd want to do what you're looking for."

"Cops and robbers?" Billy asked.

"Yeah, they'd have the guy suck their dicks and stuff," Rick said. "He also was kinda-sorta their equipment manager like you were in high school. Washed their cars and did errands for them. You'd be doing that kind of stuff for them too, I'm sure."

"I have classes and studying to do, so I can't be spending all my time on that," Billy said. "Some time, but it can't be all the time."

"Yeah, I hear that one," Rick said. "You'd probably wind up taking care of their motorcycles and their laundry, and their boots and uniforms. Oh yeah, and you know that cage you're wearing? It wasn't Sally's idea, it was Bart's. They put it on the homo back in high school, and he wore it all the time."

"So he knows all about me?" Billy asked.

"Well, not really," Rick said. "You might not like hearing this, but Bart has screwed Sally a few times. He was the one who told her about dick cages, but she didn't tell him anything about you. But the one you've been wearing started with him."

"Oh geez," Billy replied, his voice sinking.

"Look, I told you that Sally is a wild one," Rick said.

"You're right, dad, you did," Billy replied. "I guess I can't argue with that, sir."

"At least they wouldn't be freaked out," Rick said. "Probably the other way around. If anyone else finds out about you, I can pretty much guarantee it won't be from Bart or any of his ROTC buddies. Anyway, if you want me to, I can find out."

"Could you tell them not to call me a queer or a faggot or any kind of woman, sir?" Billy said. "And not to treat me bad the rest of the time, and leave me enough time for school?"

A couple nights later, Rick told Billy that Bart and his buddies were interested, as long as he kept it to himself and remembered who's boss.

"Bart and the other guys know what they're doing," Rick said. "But don't kid yourself, Billy. You'd better think it through for a few days before you ask me to pull the trigger. Once I pull it, I can't pull it back. Don't come running back to me."

"Okay, dad," he replied. "I won't do that, sir."

"They're not going to take all your time, and Bart says if you take care of them and behave yourself, maybe they'll let you suck their dicks," Rick said.

"It's not that I want them to, dad," Billy replied. "I'm not queer or anything, but I figured it would be something they want."

Rick chuckled.

"Of course you're not," he said, grinning.

The Saturday night card games had become more sporadic on account of the regulars having dates, so this time it was just the three of them playing poker and blackjack in Rick and Billy's room. Rick wore the Marine Corps uniform that his father had given him, and Bart wore his Army khakis with an MP armband.

After thinking it over, Billy had asked Rick to made the match, so Bart knew about the cage and the three-ways with Sally, and Billy's desire to be ordered around. As they played, Billy fetched beers and potato chips.

"Would that be a tallboy or a regular one for you, sir?" he asked Bart.

"That'd be a tallboy, Billy," he answered. "Super stud here, just like your roommate."

"So Rick tells me you want to play cops and robbers," Bart said to Billy, a mischievous grin on his face. "So you're queer for it, then?"

Billy started to answer, but Rick raised his hand to cut him off.

"I've got to speak up for Billy here," he said. "Even before I stuck that cage on him, he wasn't getting hard when he licked my balls while I fucked Sally. Sure, he'll suck your dick, but he really just wants to do what bigger guys tell him to do."

"Thanks for saying that, sir," Billy said to Rick. "Bart, sir, I don't know how much Rick has said to you about me. Did he show you the letters from the guy who used to lick his balls in high school? Rick, maybe you could let him read those so he understand."

"So if I tell you to shine my boots, it's the same as telling you to suck my dick?" Bart asked. "Getting me a beer is like sucking my dick?"

"Look, Bart," Rick interjected, "Billy can't even get a hardon. If he was your average queer, I don't think he'd have agreed to that. He just likes doing what bigger, stronger guys tell him to do, no matter what it is."

The card games were finished and Rick and Bart sprawled out on one side of the room, with Billy on the facing couch. Bart lit a joint, and passed it around, and soon they were all in a haze. Bart leaned back and patted the erection that pressed up against his starched khakis.

"I'd say it's dick sucking time, Billy boy," Bart said. "I don't care what you call yourself. Get on down there."

It would be the first time Billy put his mouth on a Man's dick this way. He had taken Rick's the last time they were with Sally, but it was part of something that wasn't really homosexual in his mind. This time, there was no mental trick available to deny what he was about to happen.

Billy hesitated, not having the experience to know what to do next. Bart picked up on it, and grinned.

"I guess you're right that Billy here hasn't been a dick sucker," Bart said to Rick. "He'll be learning how, starting right now."

"Get down on your knees there," Bart said, pointing between his legs that were spread wide. "Undo my pants and take it on out and put it in your mouth, and start sucking."

Billy moved slowly, and unbuckled the clasp on Bart's web belt. He unzipped his fly, and saw a big lump jutting out sideways in the Man's olive drab shorts. It wasn't as huge as Rick's, but it was at least 8 inches long.

"Unbutton the button there and put it in your mouth," Bart said.

Billy followed the order, and the Man's dick was inside.

"That's right, Billy," Bart said. "Now move your tongue around and start sucking, but keep your teeth off me. Get a good taste."

As Billy worked, Bart spoke to Rick.

"My high school buddies are moving in next door this weekend," he said. "Room next to mine."

Bart was one of a few students who'd managed to get a rare single room by applying early. His room was located at the end of the hall, and together with the room that his buddies would occupy, it faced a blank wall on account of the dorm's exterior sloping inward on the outside. The secluded area was already known as "The Lair," and now it would be a perfect place for the games to come.

"How'd you get those two guys to move?" Rick asked.

"They didn't want to at first, but 500 bucks and a quarter-pound of Thai sticks changed their minds," Bart said, with a chuckle. "Billy's going to have plenty of chances to practice. Cops and robbers. No one's going to know as long as Billy here keeps quiet."

Bart had reasons to be discreet; he was one of the largest marijuana dealers at the school, the go-to source for the best weed. In addition to paying for college, the profits financed his motorcycle and the ones that he'd given to his buddies. By now, Bart's dick was leaking pre-cum, and he told Billy to make sure to finish what he started.

"Now use your hand on it," he said. "When I cum, you swallow it all and then thank me when I'm done."

After Bart left, Rick asked Billy if it was what he wanted.

"It's your last chance to back off," Rick said. "They'll live up to their part of the bargain, I'm sure of it. But you'll have to do the same thing. Understood?"

"Yes sir, I understand," Billy replied. "I want to do it, and thanks for arranging it."

"Okay, then, let me tell you the rules. They've agreed to them, and you have to follow them too," Rick said.

"You'll call them 'sir' when you're alone with any of 'em. They'll have you shine their boots and do their laundry and take care of their uniforms and their motorcycles, and their dicks, but anything more than that's got to be cleared with me. They won't tell anyone what's going on, and you'll shut up about it too. Got it?"

"Yes sir," Billy said. "I appreciate it, dad."

"Good enough, then," Rick said. "But don't come crying back to me if you don't like it."

The day after his buddies occupied the other room, Bart and Rick sat down with them in the cafeteria. His buddies, Jack Riordan and Karl Straw, were powerfully built and stood more than 6 feet tall. As they sat at a table in a corner. Rick explained Billy's history, and emphasized that any sex games had to be kept inside their rooms.

"You'd be best off if you treat him well the rest of the time," Rick said. "He's going to want to be your mascot, and if you treat him like shit then it won't work."

"A lot of the guys on the floor call Rick here 'dad' because he looks old enough to buy beer and booze without getting carded," Bart said to the other two. "He'll be calling the rest of us 'sir' when we're alone and doing errands and laundry and taking care of our boots and uniforms, but Rick's his college dad."

"That's right guys," Rick said. "And no running him ragged. Just keep it easy outside of here, okay?"

They agreed.

"It was pretty much like that with Jimmy once we got him in line," Straw said, referring to the queer they'd dominated in high school. "Except that he was a faggot and it wasn't off-limits to talk about it. In fact, we really had to talk about it to keep him in line. It was a pain in the ass, to tell the truth."

"Well, I don't know what the hell Billy is, and I don't think he does either," Rick said. "But if you bully that kid, it's going to end badly. Keep it in mind. I've met his father, and I promised to keep a watch. Trust me, guys, you don't want to get on my bad side."

"Okay dad, got it," Riordan said, with a chuckle. "But he'd better not give us any trouble either. Jack's right. Jimmy was a real pain in the ass."

"Seriously, guys, if you really want Billy under your thumb, be nice to him," Rick said. "Turn him into whatever you're going to turn him into, but I think you guys will be much better off if you're friendly. He'll do anything you want, and it won't be just sucking your dicks either."

"Jack and Karl are right," Bart said. "Rick, make sure Billy knows that he's got to stay in his place. Jimmy thought he was doing us some kind of favor, and he wouldn't shut up about it. We're not gonna put up with a little brat again."

"I already told him, but I'll make sure he knows, guys," Rick replied. "I think he'll be okay if no one puts him down."

They chatted some more about other things, and a few minutes later Billy joined them at the table. Bart introduced him to his buddies with a smile.

"Rick here has explained the rules," he said. "Jack and Karl have agreed. Take care of us and keep it between us, and you won't have anything to worry about, Billy."

"Thanks, sir," he replied to Bart. "Rick told me about the laundry and the boots and uniforms and the motorcycles. Do you guys mind if I have the whole two weeks between uniform days for those? If I have to do it all on one day, it might get in the way of studying for tests and other school work."

"Not a problem, Billy," Karl replied. "We'll show you how to do all of it, so you have plenty of time."

Jack chuckled, and smiled.

"Karl's right," he said. "You'll have a few things to learn so you'll have to be in more time for a while, but not much once you get the hang of it. So when's your last class done with tomorrow?"

"3 o'clock, sir," Billy replied.

"Got anything going on afterwards?" Jack asked.

"No sir," Billy answered.

"Okay, then," Jack said. "Meet the three of us by our bikes tomorrow afternoon at 4, and we'll show you about taking care of them. Oh yeah, and make us a schedule of your classes and other stuff you have to do, so we know when you'll have time."

Billy was waiting as Bart roared in on his motorcycle, a big, sleek Harley Davidson cafe racer. He wore a black leather jacket and thin, tight black leather gloves, along with a pair of tight, shiny, dark blue police-style motorcycle pants that fit into the tops of a pair of tall, gleaming black motorcycle boots. Jack had arrived a few minutes earlier and quickly excused himself to fetch the cleaning equipment from his room. In his boots, Bart towered over Billy, and the crotch of his pants bulged outward.

"Karl's gonna be here in a few minutes, and when Jack gets back we'll work on my bike so you know what needs to be done," he said. "No one's going to be running your ragged. You'll do one bike a week. Only takes about an hour."

Jack returned just as Karl arrived. Jack had exchanged his tall motorcycle boots for combat boots, and both he and Karl wore riding gloves identical to Bart's. The two of them were in bluejeans, with Karl's covered by black leather motorcycle chaps and motorcycle boots. Jack stood just under 6 feet, with a square head and close-cropped black hair atop an equally square and muscular torso. He wore a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up over bulging biceps.

Karl stood 6'1" and weighed 185 pounds, with light brown hair and a round, handsome face. Jack handed cigars to his two comrades, and all of them stood for a while while the three ROTC members smoked.

"Good you could make it, Billy," Jack said, his tone friendly. "Ready to work?"

"Yes sir," Billy said. "These are really nice motorcycles, especially the Harley."

They showed Billy what needed to be cleaned and waxed.

"There's a water faucet over by the building, so that where you fill up the bucket," Karl said, his tone workmanlike. He went through the array of brushes and cleaners, and the three of them worked together, showing Billy what to do as they went.

"There's some learning to do up front, but it won't be hard at all," he said. "All told, taking care of us shouldn't take more than about 10 hours a week."

When they were done, Bart praised him.

"You did a good job, Billy," he said. "Later this week, you'll do one of the other bikes. After that, it'll be one bike a week."

"Yes sir," he replied, as Bart stood writing in a notebook.

"Why don't you go to the cafeteria and get us sandwiches," he said. "I'm going to give you this meal ticket, and you use it for our food. Use your own for yours, and then come back up to my room."

Jack handed him the bucket containing

the sponges, bushes cloths, wax, soap, and polish.

"Keep this stuff in your room," he said. "And bring that class schedule with you along with the food."

A half-hour later, Billy knocked on the door, and Bart let him in. The three were wearing highway patrol uniforms consisting of gray slacks with black stripes up the side, crisply starched light gray shirts, and the same shined black boots that went with the tan utilities that he'd seen Bart wear on uniform days.

"Here's the food, sir, and here's the schedule," he said. "What are the uniforms you're wearing? I've never seen them before."

Bart explained that his father was a state patrolman, and had given them the uniforms when they were in a junior patrol program in high school.

"When we're done eating, Karl's going to show you how to shine our boots," he said. "For now, why don't you fetch us some beers? There's a Coke in there for you."

At the foot of the spare bed, there was a shoe shine stand of the sort that Billy had seen in train stations and airports. After they ate, Bart hopped up into it and Karl guided Billy over to it.

"You use a little bit of polish, then heat 'em up with this heat gun," he said. "Wait a bit after that, and then you spit shine it with just a little spit and the shine cloth. If we have you lick boots, you wait until they're dry and then do another spit shine afterwards. And you make sure to put the side dressing on the soles, and to clean off the bottoms."

Karl produced a ruler, and held it next to the boot he had shined.

"The standard is 4 inches," he said. "If you don't get that much, then you wait a while and do it over again. Now you try it on the other boot."

Billy went to work, and produced a 4-inch shine on the first try.

"That's a good job, Billy. Better than I thought you'd do on the first try," he said. "Now Jack's going to get up there, and then you can finish off with my boots."

Billy made quick work of the boots, making another 4-inch shine.

"Not bad," Karl said. "Now fetch us some more tall boys, and get yourself another Coke."

Billy carried out the order, and then returned to work on Karl's boots as he sat in the chair, drinking his beer.

"I want you to take that buffing rag with you tonight, and keep it in your backpack," Karl said as Billy worked. "If you meet up with any of us at the bikes, you can give 'em a quick spit shine right there. Our boots and uniforms are real important."

They passed a joint afterwards, and Bart went to a closet and brought out a low chair. He placed it on the floor in front of the bed-couch between Jack and Karl, and motioned for Billy to sit down.

"That's your chair," he said, moving in front of Billy. "Time for some more work, little buddy!"

He stood tall, and his hardon looked like a thick steel rod in his gray uniform pants. He unzipped his fly, reached inside and took it out. Precum was already leaking from the end of his dick, and he added some spit and and rubbed the mixture around Billy's face and lips.

"Open your mouth, little guy," Bart said, pressing the stiff rod against his lips. Billy followed the order, and found himself sucking a man's dick for the second time in only a few days. He didn't really count Rick squirting into his mouth right at the end of screwing Sally as dick sucking, so he thought of this as the second time – and it was with the same guy.

Being well-practiced in the mechanisms of denial beginning in high school when he overlooked Sally's departures with the athletes, he had been able to rationalize everything that had happened since he moved into the dorm. Rick was another 'dad' and his participation in the things they'd been doing with Sally were because he wanted to stay on her radar screen. He could even justify the cage, because it was her idea.

As the dick invaded his mouth, Billy employed his standard technique. He let his mind go blank, just as he'd done the other night when he had first sucked Bart's hardon, and when he'd licked Rick's balls and lapped up the squirt from Sally's cunt. But cracks had been developing in the facade, and now they were opening wider.

Bart pushed his stiff dick backward and forward, stretching his cheeks from the inside, and patiently beckoned him to suck tightly while swirling his tongue around the head, and to relax his throat while he went in deeper.

"That a-Billy," he said, his voice tender and condescending while he scratched affectionately at the back of his neck with one hand. "You put as good a shine on that as you put on my boots. You're doing a real good job, little buddy."

The precum leaked profusely now, and Bart would withdraw completely and rub his dick all over Billy's face.

"There you are, taking care of things," he said. "Now start rubbing my legs nice and slow, just below my butt. After someone cums in your mouth, make sure to swallow it all and then thank them, little buddy."

He felt his mouth filling up and gulped as fast as he could. When the spurts were over with, he took his mouth off and left Bart's softening dick hanging out of his pants. Bart looked down and squeezed the remaining cum out into his hand, spit into it, and rubbed the mixture into Billy's hair.

"Now look me in the eye and thank me," Bart said, gently, as he put his dick back inside and zipped up.

"Thank you, sir," Billy said, staring into Bart's eyes.

Jack slid over and straddled Billy from behind, and leaned over.

"We know you were a little worried about us," he said, his voice gentle. "You did a real good job on Bart's bike, and on our boots. Keep it up, and we're going to be the friendliest cops you ever met, little robber."

Karl leaned over from the side and spoke.

"No one's gonna be hurting you," he said. "Just remember who the cops are, and we'll get along just fine. We'll show you all about sucking our dicks, and all kinds of things. "

"That's right, little robber," Jack said as he gently squeezed Billy's neck and stroked his hair from behind. He tightened his legs, and Billy could feel the stiff rod through Jack's uniform pants. "No one's gonna be giving you any cause to complain."

As he listened to them, Billy thought back to what Rick had told him, and knew that as long as he lived in the dorm, there'd be no way out. And he didn't want there to be.

"Turn your chair around, little robber," Jack said, leaning back and widening his legs. "Unbuckle me and get your mouth on it."

Billy complied, and soon he was sucking a thick, uncut rod.

"Put your tongue all the way in there and suck on it nice and tight," Jack said, as he went to work. "Now skin it back and jack me off. And look me in the eye while you're doing it, little robber."

Billy had expected them to be harsher, and the tenderness threw him off. It penetrated his defenses, and was much more deeply humiliating than if they'd just slapped him around and forced him.

"I'm getting close," Jack said, smiling into Kenny's eyes. "Be sure to swallow everything that comes. That's a little fella, there you go."

Billy felt his mouth fill up, and swallowed hard, just as he'd done with Bart. When he took his mouth off, Jack milked a bit of fluid to the end of his softening dick.

"Missed a little bit there," he said. "Get the last of it."

Billy licked off the rest, and Jack smiled.

"There you go," he said, his voice tender. "Now what do you say?"

"Thank you, sir," Billy answered.

Now it was Bart's turn again.

"Billy, I want you to take off everything but your T-shirt," he said.

Billy frowned, embarrassed.

"Don't worry," Bart said, gently. "We know about your cage. Your dad down the hallway told us he wants us to be running all of that, so we've got to see what we're dealing with."

Billy took off his clothes, showing the cage that kept his dick to an inch and prevented it from getting hard. He noticed the jar of alcohol with the spare cage sitting on the desk.

"Let's change it now," Bart said, getting the spare, a tube of lubricant, an electric shaver, the key to the lock, and a ruler. "What's that without your cage, maybe 3 inches? I think you know the drill, so shave yourself and put the new one on for me."

"Yes sir," he answered, starting to remove the stubble that had grown since he last changed the cage, and then putting the new one on. While he was working, Karl fetched a large, empty coffee can from a closet. Billy finished with the cage, and Bart locked it.

"I could use another tallboy," he said. "Anyone else want one?"

The other two nodded.

"Three tall boys, Billy," Karl said. "We're getting thirsty again. And there's more Coke in the fridge if you want it."

He got the beers for the three and another Coke for himself, and returned to his low chair. Karl had moved over in front of it, and spread his legs.

"Blow on my balls and warm 'em up," he ordered, the tall beer in his hand.

"Yes sir," Billy replied, putting his mouth on the fabric of the Man's uniform below the end of his fly and softly puffing hot breath into Karl's balls.

"That's right," Karl said. "Get me hard."

He ordered Billy to undo his pants and find his dick. It was the longest and thickest of the three, close to 9 inches. The cut head was huge, with a color somewhere between deep red and purple, and the slit glistened with precum.

"Look up at me and try to touch your chin with your tongue," he said. Billy complied, and Karl rubbed his leaking erection around it, and inside his mouth, then back out, and across his lips. Without being told, he tightened his mouth around the erection and sucked hard while moving his tongue.

"That's right," Karl said. "Now use your hand on it, and I'll shoot."

The first spurt hit against the back of his throat, and he swallowed until they stopped. When Karl pulled out of his mouth, he waited. The Man above him milked it to the end and told him to lick it off, and Billy complied.

"You did good there, Billy," Karl said. "You're a quick learner."

"Thank you, sir," he replied.

Satisfied, the three of them sat back and drank their beers. Karl and Jack sat on the bed, with Billy in between on his low chair, while Bart sat in a chair next to the desk. Billy moved to sit on the bed-couch, and Bart shook his head and moved his finger from side to side.

"You did really good today, Billy," said Bart, "but your chairs are the one you were in and the one on the shoe-shine stand."

Billy moved back down and apologized.

"That's okay," Bart said. "You didn't know, but now you know."

Jack ruffled Billy's hair affectionately and spoke.

"I hope it agreed with you," he said. "It agrees with us."

"It's new, but it's fine with me' sir," Billy replied. "Especially the part about it just being between us. My college dad said you guys would worry about me blabbing about it, but that's the last thing I'd ever do, sir."

"Your dad says the cage is working out for you," Bart said. "Is that about right?"

"Yes sir," he answered. "I didn't like it at first, but I've gotten used to it."

"Helps keep you in place, doesn't it?" Bart said. "Now remember, not even Sally's gonna know about you and us. No one else will either. No one's gonna be calling you names or anything like that."

"Thank you, sir, I appreciate that," Billy replied. "I've always looked up to big guys for as long as I can remember. I just haven't ever sucked their dicks before."

"We'll be giving you plenty to look up to, little robber," Jack said. "All kinds of things to do for us, but we'll leave you plenty of time for school."

Bart looked at the schedule that Billy had given him.

"Looks like you got free time day after tomorrow," he said. "After your last class, take care of Karl's bike and then come on by the room. Bring your dad's boots and Jack and Karl will show you how to strip 'em and start with the shine. They'll show you how to keep the uniforms sharp too. I won't be around. Got a girl to screw."

Karl stood up and got the coffee can off the shelf where he had put it, and handed it to Billy. He unzipped his fly and took his dick out and hung it downward.

"Take hold of it while I piss, and aim it into the can," he said. "Jack and Bart probably got to piss too, so you can do them next. Then get yourself dressed and go empty the can in the latrine, take your own piss and come on back."

While he was gone, the three talked among themselves.

"I think Rick's right about how to treat him," Bart said. "As long as we don't call him a queer, he'll be the biggest queer on the planet."

Karl chuckled at the remark.

"He already is the biggest queer on the planet," he said. "I didn't even have to tell him to suck tight. Little Billy just gave me a blowjob better than anything I ever got from Jimmy. That one likes what he's doing."

"Think I ought to fuck him next week?" Jack said.

"I say wait up on that," Karl replied. "Get him used to all this for a while."

"Karl's right," Bart said. "Got to remember, it's really all new for Billy. We'll get him there for sure, but let's take it slow, okay?"

"Yeah, I guess you guys got a point," Jack said. "I'll take it slow. I agree."

"By the way, Jack, that 'little robber' was great," Karl said, chuckling. "I think he might like that one. Little robber and the friendly cops."

Jack looked at his watch. It was 8 o'clock.

"Hey Karl, we gotta go!" he said. "Study group for that PoliSci class is starting right now. We gotta change out of these clothes and get down there."

They left in a hurry, leaving Bart by himself. A few minutes later, Billy arrived with the empty coffee can.

"Karl and Jack had to go to a study group," he said. "But you can hang out here a while if you want."

Billy was happy to stay, and they chatted for a while.

"We've been reading those letters," Bart said. "The guy gets called a queer, but you don't want to. What's up with that?"

Billy explained about the bullies in high school, and how he'd sought the protection of other athletes. He isn't queer, he said. He's only gotten hardons for girls, and he's never wanted a guy to suck his dick, so how could he be queer?

"I hear you, Billy," Bart replied, his voice sympathetic. "See, the guy we messed with in high school was different than you are. Same with the guy who wrote Rick the letters. They had to be taught their place, but you know already know it. Looks like all you've ever needed is to be allowed to be in your place without being put down for it."

Billy sighed with relief.

"No one's really understood me until you guys, sir," he said. "That might include myself, sir. I guess I just like it when bigger guys are in charge and friendly about it."

"Look, all three of us get laid with girls whenever we want, so it's not like we need to have you suck our dicks," Bart said. "A squirt's a good thing, but we really don't have to get it from you, just like we never needed to get it from Jimmy back in high school."

"So it's a matter of who's in charge, sir?" Billy asked.

"I suppose you could call it that," Bart said. "And there are guys like you who want it that way."

Billy nodded in agreement.

"Sir, a long time ago, my father told me that bigger and stronger Men run things, and that I should get used to it," Billy said. "It wasn't hard at all for me, because I always liked to do stuff for bigger guys. I just don't like to be dumped on for it."

Bart moved over next to Billy and ruffled his hair affectionately.

"You are way ahead of Jimmy back in high school," he said. "We started off being real friendly like we are with you, but when he started telling people that he was sucking us off, we had to crack down."

"I can understand that, sir," Billy replied. "So is that why you put him in a cage?"

"Yeah, that's why we caged him," Bart said. "He hated it, but he had no choice. I used one that not only kept him from getting hard, but it shrank his dick from 6 inches to 3-1/2, and cut the size of his balls in half. That's what turned him around."

"Am I going to shrink, sir?" Billy said, with a worried look. "I'm already small, sir."

"The one you're wearing won't shrink anything," Bart replied. "All it does is level you out and make it easier for you. There are other ones that shrink, but not yours."

Billy sighed with relief.

"Thank you for that, sir," he said, exhaling nervously. "Sir, if you guys aren't happy with me, I sure hope you will just tell me what I'm doing wrong so I have a chance to make it right."

"Don't worry, Billy," Bart said, warmly. "You're doing just fine, little fella."

"Hey, Billy!" Karl shouted, as he dismounted his motorcycle. "How's it goin' little guy?"

"Great, sir!" Billy replied, smiling and no longer hiding behind a mask of caution. He wore a set of crisply starched gray coveralls that Karl had dropped off that morning, and was holding the bucket of cleaning supplies.

"Ready to work?"

"You bet, sir!" Billy replied, drinking in the tall Man's leather jacket and tight riding gloves, and the substantial bulge in his bluejeans, framed by the chaps.

"You picked up some scuffs on your boots, sir, and I see some stones around the edges," he said. "Mind if I take care of those?"

Karl looked to make sure that no one else was around, and nodded. Billy went to one knee and picked out the stones, then took his shine rag out of a pocket.

"If you'll put your boot on my knee I'll give it a quick buff, sir," he said, "then the other one."

"When you're done with my bike, come on up and knock on my door," Karl said. "Bring Rick's boots with you so I can show you about stripping them."

"Sir, I was thinking about that," Billy said. "You told me it would take a couple days, but tomorrow's uniform day and my college dad only has one pair of boots."

"Damn, I forgot about that," Karl replied. "Bring 'em anyway and you can just do the caps this time. That's a big job, and I figured you could split the work over two or three days so you don't get run ragged."

"How long does the whole thing take, sir?" Billy asked. "I'm not doing anything tonight, so if it's possible to do it all at once ..."

"It's about a 4-hour job," Karl said. "Most of that is waiting for the layers to dry, but I didn't want to run you ragged. If you do all that today, you'll be working until 9 or 10 o'clock, seeing as how we've got to eat dinner."

"Not a problem for me, sir," Billy replied. "I could take care of the uniforms while waiting for the boots to dry off."

"If you want to, sure," Karl said. "I know Rick would be real happy, but it's a lot of work to do all at once."

"I've got the time, sir," Billy said. "If it's the same by you, I'd rather do it now."

"If you can get this bike done right by 4 o'clock, then you can strip those boots all at once," Karl said. "It's 2:30 now, so I'm gonna split, and we'll see."

"You got it, sir!" Billy replied. "I'd better get moving."

An hour later, he knocked on the door. He was holding Rick's boots and his uniform.

"The motorcycle is clean, sir," he said. "Do you want to take a look, and see if I will have time for those boots?"

Karl's bike was immaculate, and gleamed in the afternoon sun. Billy had scrubbed every bit of road grime from the nooks and crannies, polished the chrome, waxed the gas tank and fenders, picked the gravel from the tire treads, and applied the shining formula to the tires.

"Damn, Billy," he said, "I figured I'd catch some spots, but you did a better job than I ever did."

Billy smiled.

"I used to do this for a guy in high school, sir," he said. "It was a car, but I learned how to keep everything clean inside and out."

They went upstairs to the room, where Karl explained the stripping process. Next would be the uniforms.

"I know how to do the uniforms, sir," Billy said. "About five years ago, my mom got hit by a car and broke both arms. My father, my brother, and I shared laundry and ironing for almost six months while she healed. I got good at it. And I know about military creases because I'd do them for a guy in Junior ROTC."

"Okay, but let's move over to Bart's room," Karl replied. "You're going to be working on boots, and the shine stand will be a lot more comfortable for you."

Billy began to remove his coveralls, but Karl stopped him. He went back to a closet and withdrew another set and handed them over.

"Keep 'em on, Billy," he said. "When you're down here, you're going to be wearing coveralls or just your T-shirt. And keep these coveralls looking sharp."

In the room next door, Karl started by showing Billy how to strip off the layers of polish that were there, so he could rebuild the shine layer by layer.

"Your dad Rick must not have shined his father's boots," Karl said. "We were meaning to show him how to do it right, but that's your job so I'm showing you."

Karl demonstrated the procedure on one boot, and had Billy do the other. Then he set them aside to dry off.

"We each have two sets of uniforms, and all but one set is starched and ironed," Karl said. "If you already know how to do it, then you can do the one set plus do Rick's shirt in between the stages of the boots."

"Sure thing, sir!" Billy said. Karl had set up an ironing board and an iron, and a couple cans of starch, and Billy took 45 minutes to finish Rick's shirt and iron the uniform pants. When he was done, Karl hopped up on the shine chair.

"Take off my boots and put Rick's on my feet, and you can apply the first layer of polish," he said. "Then you buff 'em out, set 'em aside, and put my own boots back on my feet. Make sure to use the cloths while you're handling the boots, or you'll screw up the shine. Then you can get to work on the other uniform."

Just as Billy had finished the second uniform shirt and was at work putting the second layer of polish on the boots, Jack entered the room. He was wearing his motorcycle gear too.

"Billy, I saw Karl's bike," he said. "Damn good job!"

"Thanks, sir!" he replied. "I used to take care of a guy's car in high school, so I know how to do it."

"Turns out Billy knows how to iron military creases too," Karl said. "He pointed out that tomorrow's uniform day, and asked if he could strip Rick's boots and rebuild the shine tonight."

"How about the belts?" Jack asked. "He going to do the brightwork?"

"Oh yeah," Karl said. "I left that stuff in our room. Maybe when he's done with the second coat on these boots you can take him next door to get the belts and show him the uniforms and boots he'll be taking care of. You can talk about the laundry too."

When Billy finished the second coat on the boots, they went to the other room. There were two buckles that needed polish. Jack showed him their uniforms, and pointed to the four pairs of combat boots, two needing shines, and a large olive drab duffel bag.

"Rick says you do laundry on Wednesdays and on Saturdays when there's enough," Jack said. "Everything's marked, so we'll just throw it all in the duffel. If you're down here anyway, we'll just give it to you. Otherwise we'll leave it outside Bart's door after dinner on the night before, and you'll have 24 hours to get it back to us. That sound okay?"

"Yes sir," Billy answered. "I thought I'd ask you guys if you wanted your jeans starched and ironed. It's how they do it in Texas, and it's how all the rodeo cowboys everywhere do it. There was a guy in high school who competed in junior rodeos in the summer, and I used to do his stuff."

"Never heard of it," Jack replied.

"I could do them all once and see if you guys like it," Billy said. "I figured if you like my coveralls starched you might want your jeans starched. It's a sharp look, sir."

They went back to the other room with the belts that needed work, and Billy explained to the two of them what he was thinking.

"I already talked to my college dad about this, and he likes the idea, so I thought I'd run it by you guys, and then you can see what Bart thinks," he said. "Your uniforms look good enough, but they're a little baggy. I found a lady who runs a dry cleaners, and she does tailoring."

Jack chuckled and smiled.

"Billy wants us to be lookin' good," he said. "He wants to starch our jeans too."

"I told Jack that it's how they wear jeans in Texas, and in every rodeo, sir," he said to Karl. "I could starch one pair for each of you, and if you don't like it then just wear a different pair and I'll wash the starch out next time."

Karl nodded in agreement.

"I have a couple more ideas, sir," Billy said. "We're all supposed to keep this to ourselves, right. So if anyone notices me doing laundry or washing motorcycles, just tell them that I do it for meal tickets."

"Good idea, Billy," Karl said. "What's the other one?"

"It's a little more complicated," Billy said. "You know the card games where everyone goes around and around about fetching sandwiches and beers and I usually wind up doing it? I came up with a way where I'd do it all the time, and call everyone 'sir' too."

Jack laughed.

"Now this ought to be good!" he said.

"I was a waiter at a country club

in high school," Billy said. "I worked every Saturday night in exchange for dinner the night I worked and free rounds of golf. I was thinking of getting a restaurant job next year or the year after anyway, so I could do it at the card games."

"Rick did tell us that you like doing things for people," Karl said.

"To make sure they don't figure anything out, have everyone chip in to pay for the food, including mine, sir." Billy said. "In return, I'd be the waiter at those card games. If they promise to add 15%, I'll even wear my waiter's clothes. Sir, I'd do it for nothing, but I think they would wonder why."

"We'll think that one over, Billy," Karl said, turning to write in a notebook and then grab a meal ticket before tearing out the sheet and handing it to him. "Here's the food to get, and this time put yours on the ticket. Before you go, fetch Jack and me a couple tall boys and take those coveralls off."

He fetched the beers, but didn't remove the coveralls.

"Could I shine up your boots before I get the food?" he said. "It won't take long."

Billy returned 20 minutes later with a sack full of sandwiches and potato chips.

"Thanks for buying my food, sir," he said to Karl. "I really appreciate it, sir."

He moved to put the coveralls back on, but Jack stopped him.

"Everything off but your socks, little robber," he said. "And how about a couple more tallboys for us? There's Cokes in there for you."

They sat and ate, the two on the bed couches and Billy on his low chair in front of one of them.

"Bart and Rick tell us that you cage is agreeing with you," Karl said. "How long have you been wearing it?"

"It will be three weeks as of tomorrow, sir," Billy replied.

Karl sat on the couch-bed in back of Billy, and moved over to put his legs on either side. He was still wearing his riding gloves, and squeezed his legs while leaning over and putting his thumb against Billy's lips, and then inside his mouth.

"We'll see if we can get ya squirted off after the next uniform day," he said, as Billy sucked on his thumb through the glove. "We can't have you getting too backed up."

Billy felt a surge throughout his body at the words, and a buzzing below, and he closed his eyes and sucked the gloved thumb even harder. The rod in his dick prevented him from getting hard, which made the orgasm in his head even more satisfying. Jack moved his chair close, and spoke gently.

"Little robber, we're the friendliest cops you're ever going to know," he said. "We aren't going to get in the way of your schooling, and we're not going to let anyone put you down. No one else is gonna know."

Karl withdrew his thumb, and Jack put two gloved fingers in Billy's mouth. He pressed down on Billy's tongue as he spoke, and Billy sucked hard and stared up into Jack's eyes.

"I can tell that all you want to do is have guys like us be in charge, and be told you're doing right," he said, as Billy nodded and sucked in agreement. "We're going to let you do all of it, and you won't have to worry about a single thing, little robber."

"Okay, let's let Billy get to work," Karl said. "He can shine up the buckles, and then get back to work on the boots."

Jack went to the shine stand, opened a drawer, and walked back to Billy's chair with a can of brass polish and two rags. He showed how to apply the polish and then buff out the buckle. Billy made quick work of the others, and the buckles gleamed.

"Okey doke, now back to the boots, Billy, but first I've got to show you something about the shine chair," he said. As Billy watched, Karl demonstrated how to move the chair in and out on a rail attached to the stand, and flipped the back rest back and forth to show that he could sit facing the high perch or away from it.

"Just put it in the middle when you're shining," he said, "but there'll be times when it'll be different."

Billy removed Karl's motorcycle boots again and replaced them with Rick's, and got to work applying a third coating of polish, and then buffing it. The shine was now 4 inches deep, and only one more coat would be needed. Billy replaced the motorcycle boots on Karl's feet, then got up and starched the one remaining set of uniform trousers.

"The uniforms are done, sir," he said. "My college dad's and the other one."

Karl walked over and inspected the job, and smiled.

"Damn good there, Billy," he said. "Now you can do the last coat on the combat boots."

For the fourth time, he polished and shined, and then he was finished. He replaced the boots on Karl's feet, and held up Rick's with a ruler to show that he'd given them a 4" shine.

"That dad of yours is gonna like these," Karl said. "Now fetch me a tallboy, and get another one for Jack if he wants it. Coke for you if you want one."

"Should I get one of Bart's joints?" Jack asked as Billy opened the fridge.

"Yeah, that'd be good," Karl replied. Billy knew what was coming next. They'd get high and he would suck their dicks. He sometimes didn't like marijuana; it could speed up his thinking and make him anxious. But with them, getting high was profoundly relaxing on account of their affectionate and accepting manner. It made things go smoother, and made their praise sweeter.

"Scoot your chair right up here," Karl said when Billy returned with his beer. Jack came over with the joint, and they each took a few hits from the powerful weed, and Karl slipped two of his gloved fingers into Billy's mouth.

"Show me how you're going to treat my stiff dick, Billy," he said.

The Men who he was taking care of had not forced him into anything. He had done that himself. Their gentle manner combined with their size and strength to make their masculinity more authentic. They didn't have to tell him they were in charge; they just were, and all he wanted was to please them. He sucked hard on Karl's fingers and swirled his tongue, looking up into his eyes.

"There you go, Billy," he said. "Now warm me up between my legs."

Billy blew into the bulge in Karl's jeans, and then along the lengthening shaft that extended sideways inside.

"Rub me there with your hand," he said. Billy followed the command, and could feel the enormous head of Karl's dick, now rock hard. "Undo my pants and take it out now. Time to do what you're told."

Billy found the Man's dick, and sucked on it as he'd done with Karl's fingers, while the Man stroked his head.

"That's right, Billy," Karl said, as he worked. Precum began to ooze out of the end, and he swallowed it eagerly this time, his defenses gone. He used his hand, and before long the precum flowed freely. Karl stood up on the small platform that held his chair, and had Billy get on his knees. His long, thick dick extended straight out, and Karl rubbed it around Billy's lips and eased it inside.

"Rub the back of my legs and suck nice and tight," he said, and soon Billy felt the first squirt hit the back of his throat, and his mouth fill up.

"Thank you, sir," he said, as Karl put his softening dick back into his jeans and buckled everything back up.

Jack had taken off all his clothes and laid back on the bed-couch on the other side of the room.

"Come on over here, little robber," he said, his voice smooth and enticing.

Billy turned around and gasped involuntarily. Jack was muscular and hairy, lying on his side with one leg up, his thick, uncut dick in his hand, fully hard. It was the first time he'd seen any of them naked except for his college dad.

"Come on over here and lick my balls, little robber," he said, smiling, his tone playfully mocking. "I hear you do that real good."

He had already shined their boots and cleaned two motorcycles. He called all of them "sir," and they called him "little" this or that. He fetched their sandwiches and beers, and would be doing their laundry. And he did all of it while wearing a device that made it impossible to get hard. He had evaded and even fought bullies in high school for infinitely less, but this was different.

"Now suck my dick, little robber," Jack said, and as he followed the order Billy realized that the humiliation was an addiction. He was being treated the way he wanted to be treated, and it connected down deep. Not only wouldn't he want look for an exit, he wanted every bit he could get. As Jack's squirt filled his throat, he resolved to do exactly what they wanted, so they would do more.