Dorm Servant to the Rotc

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DORM SERVANT TO THE ROTC – Chapter 2 By Cody Jordan

"Real nice job on my uniform and especially on my boots, Billy!" Rick said the next morning. "Damn, these look great!"

"Thanks, dad," he replied, smiling broadly. "Karl showed me how to strip them down and rebuild the shine, sir."

That night, Rick screwed Sally while Billy licked his balls, culminating with Rick finishing off in Billy's mouth and licking the cum from her snatch.

"They tell me you've been doing a good job for them, Billy," Rick said the next day. "They say you seem to like what you do for them."

"Yes sir, I do," he replied. "I was a little worried about them at first, but I'm not any more. If there's any advice you can give me, I sure would appreciate it, dad. I want them to be satisfied with me, sir. You too, dad."

"Near as I can tell, you're doing everything right, Billy," he said. "Right from the start, I told them not to put you down for wanting to please them."

"They've been treating me great, dad," Billy said. "Whatever you told them is working out just right."

"All I'd say is that you shouldn't forget your place, little fella," Rick said. "Don't argue with them and always remember that it's up to them what they have you do. That one's always got to be their idea and never yours, Billy."

"I'll remember that, dad," he replied. "It's hard to explain, but all I really want is for them to be happy with me and not make fun of me for it, dad."

"That's good," Rick said. "The one guy who sucked them off in high school got out of place, and so did the guy whose letters you've read. If you always remember who's in charge, you'll be fine. Okay?"

"Sure thing, dad!" Billy said. "You probably didn't have to tell me that, but I asked, sir. And I'll remember."

"By the way, all of us liked your idea about what to tell guys if they notice what you're doing for us," Rick said. "Same goes for getting the uniforms tailored. Until I'm in ROTC, I can wear any uniform I want, so Bart's getting me a set of those khakis of his, and you'll have another uniform to take care of."

"It'll be a lot of uniforms, sir, so you'll need to take them to the lady's shop in stages," Billy replied. "I think she'll be insulted if you don't let her clean and starch them, but it'll be the only time I don't do it, sir."

"As far as the waiter idea goes, we're going to put that one on hold while we think about it some more," Rick said. "It sounds okay, but we'll have to figure out how other guys will react to it, so that will get taken slow."

"I can see that, dad," Billy replied. "I can wait, sir."

"One other thing," Rick said. "It's probably another thing I don't have to tell you, but now that we're talking, I will. Just because we like what you're doing, don't start slacking off. If you do a job for us, you do your best."

"Yes sir!" he replied. "I'll remember that too, sir."

On Saturday night, after Billy had done the first laundry duty for all four of them, Rick praised his work and asked him if it was too much.

"No sir, not at all," he answered. "It really wasn't hard at all, dad. I'm glad to do it, honest."

"Does it bug you to do it all?" Rick asked. "We don't pay you or even thank you."

"You guys are in charge, and I like it that way, dad," he replied. "If I screw up, I want to be told about it, sir, but the best way to keep me doing a good job is to let me know when I've satisfied you guys."

Rick reached over and ruffled his hair.

"I'll make sure they know about that, little guy," he said. "See, Billy, you're kind of a rare bird. The guy they messed with didn't really ever have it in him like you do. Neither did the guy whose letters you read."

"The bullies in high school didn't understand, but I think you guys do," Billy replied. "I don't know why I'm this way, but it's the way I am, dad. It really makes me happy. I never really thought about it before, but I think I like having my place if you guys will let me. There's a bunch more stuff I want to do, sir."

Rick chuckled at the words.

"Well you'll have your place, Billy," he said. "Just don't let it get in the way of school, okay?

"I won't, dad," he replied. "I promise. "

Every day, Billy did something for one or more of the three ROTC guys, and for his college dad. Laundry, boots, the motorcycles. He came up with more chores on his own, too. He mopped and waxed the linoleum floors in their rooms, and reconditioned their jackets and riding chaps with leather treatment, his reward being their praise for doing a good job of it.

On the Wednesday after he started doing everyone's laundry, he met Bart after a motorcycle ride, Billy in his coveralls and Bart in his motorcycle gear – shiny, skin tight pants tucked into high boots, black leather jacket, and tight leather gloves. Billy picked the stones from the boots and buffed them, and buffed the shine on the cycle, and cleaned the glass on the fairing.

They went upstairs, and Bart had him take off everything but his T-shirt. Billy removed the cage and tube, and shaved the stubble that had grown above and beneath the ring, and a hair or two from his balls. Before he put the replacement cage on, Bart measured his soft dick again.

"Three inches, same as before," Bart said, his voice gentle. "Okay, you can put the new one on, then."

After he locked him back up, Bart brought out a plastic kit with a bulb and a tip, a triangular piece of chrome with a steel flange and disc on the bottom, and a tube of K-Y jelly. "This stuff comes from Jack," he said. "He couldn't be here, so I'm giving it to you. He wants you to get used to cleaning yourself out with warm water, and then putting this plug inside. After you get used to it, you'll be wearing it sometimes."

Billy looked up, his expression asking why.

"I can tell you're a little bit worried about it," Bart said.

"Well, it's new, sir," he replied.

"The enema part is really just to keep that plug clean," Bart said. "The plug is to remind you of your place. Once you get used to it, you'll wear it every other day and it'll keep your mind right. We think you're going to be happy with this."

"How will I keep it in, sir?" he asked.

"There'll be a way to do that," Bart replied. "I'd like it if you can work on it between now and Saturday, because we talked about your waiter idea and were thinking you could try it out just with us when we get together for cards. You could wear it then, and see how it works."

Billy smiled broadly.

"Thanks sir!" he said. "Could I wear my waiter's clothes? I brought them with me from home."

"Only in here," Bart replied. "First you get the food and bring it up, then change in here. We don't want this getting around. Now why don't you get me a tallboy and a Coke for yourself, and you can work on my boots."

He was getting ready to shine the boots, and Bart stopped him. He lit a joint and took a couple of hits, and gave it to Billy. When he'd taken the smoke, Bart smiled and pointed at his boots.

"Why don't you lick 'em off first, little fella," he said, leaning over the spitting on one of them. "Get 'em good and slick for me, Billy."

As he licked the boot that Bart had spit on, and his saliva blended with the Man's, he realized that he was being drawn deeper and deeper. The chores, the boots, the dick service fit together, secured tightly with their smooth and friendly voices, their touches, and their smiles. The place he'd always felt relative to bigger and stronger guys came alive like lightning, connecting deep within.

"Oh yeah, Billy," Bart said, his voice smooth as the shine on the motorcycle pants he was wearing. "Little guy's comin' along real good."

Bart spit on the other boot, and Billy went to work. He had asked for all of this, he thought to himself. He could have walked away, but he hadn't done that, and had asked for more from Bart and the other two ROTC students who now had him in thrall. It could have been a plan on their part, he thought, but he was a willing participant, and all he wanted was even more. The worst thing that could happen now would be that they'd cut him off.

"Let 'em dry off before you shine 'em up," Bart said when Billy was finished. "Scoot your chair up close for now."

Bart took a swig of his beer, then put two of his fingers above Billy face and spit on them, and let another load of his spit fall on his lips. Smiling downward he rubbed the spit around Billy's face, and put his spit-covered gloves into Billy's mouth.

"Suck on that, little fella," he said, gently, as Billy swirled his tongue around tightly. "There ya go, Billy."

He leaned back and told Billy to warm him up, and in no time at all a big, stiff rod pushed against the slick fabric of his uniform pants.

"Undo my fly and do your thing, little fella," he said. "Look me in the eye while you're doing it."

Billy complied, and looked up into Bart's smile, tasting the precum and sucking the head tightly while the Man above him ran his spit-covered gloves through his hair.

"Here it comes, Billy," he said. "Save a mouthful at the end, buddy boy, then spit it out into my hand."

They each have their specialty, Billy thought. His dad wanted his balls licked and to finish off in his mouth. Jack wanted his ass. Bart was in charge of his cage and liked to rub spit and cum all over him. When Bart came, and Billy deposited the final squirts from his mouth into the gloved hand, he rubbed it through his hair and had him lick off what remained.

"There ya go, little guy," he said, rubbing the spit-cum mixture through his hair and then wiping his gloves on Billy's T-shirt. "This Man likes to mark his territory."

"Thank you, sir!" Billy said, wondering what Karl's angle would be.

Bart had Billy get dressed and sent him to the cafeteria for sandwiches, and when he returned he had Billy take everything but his T-shirt off and they sat and ate together. Rick was the last to arrive. The ROTC students were wearing their newly tailored Army khakis, while Rick was in a camouflage-pattern Marine Corps uniform. The pants Billy had crisply starched were tucked into combat boots that Billy had turned into a pair of leather mirrors.

"Whoa!" Karl exclaimed, mockingly shielding his eyes. "Shiny boots! How'd Billy do it?"

"I came back to the room last night and he said figured out how to put a 6-inch shine on the boots and would I like him to try," Rick said. "An hour later, this is what he did."

"Damn, little robber, between the tailor and this, you got us looking better," Jack said, reaching to accept a tallboy that he'd told Billy to fetch.

"Sir, if you guys like my dad's boots, I can put the same shine on all of yours tonight," Billy said. "We'll have to set up a little assembly line because it takes two coats, but if you guys can play three at a time, I can get them all done tonight. Next week I can start in on your other boots if you want."

"Sounds good to me," Karl said, heading for the chair. "I'll be first! Billy, get me a tallboy while you're at it."

He worked quickly, taking about 10 minutes to lay on the first coat of polish. The ROTC guys rotated in the chair, and after a couple hours, interrupted by breaks to them serve beers and chips, Billy had put gleaming six-inch shines on all the boots.

"I propose a toast to our waiter," Bart said. "This little guy has been doing a damn good job, wouldn't you guys say?"

As the Men complimented him, he realized that the combination of their gentle praise and their acceptance of his nature amounted to a powerfully addictive drug, and the confidentiality of their arrangements made him feel free to be himself with them.

"Sometime between the next uniform day and the one after that, it'll be time for Billy boy to get his first squirt since he's been caged up," Bart said. "I think the little guy is earning it."

Billy smiled broadly.

"Thanks, guys," he said. "The tailoring on the uniforms looks like it worked great, and I'll get the rest of your boots up to that shine over the next couple of weeks."

"You're going to have more of that," Bart said. "Rick's decided to sign up for ROTC at the end of the year, and his father's giving him a cafe racer just like mine."

"What?!" Rick replied. "No one told me!"

"It's a surprise," Bart said. "And me and the other guys are chipping in to get you a pair of motorcycle pants like mine, a pair of high boots, and another pair of combat boots. Your father's also getting you a motorcycle jacket. Billy's gonna have a whole new set of boots and clothes to take care of. Think you can handle it, Billy?"

"You bet, sir!" he said. "Congratulations, dad!"

The game ended early, without any marijuana being smoked at the card table. Rick, Jack, and Bart were heading out to the Key that night. Billy figured he wouldn't be sucking their dicks tonight, but he knew Karl would stay back and wondered what he had in mind.

Alone in the room together, Karl had Billy fetch him a tallboy, and he sat tall in the shoe shine chair. He opened the beer, drew out a joint, and had Billy scoot his chair up between his legs.

"You did a good job on the boots and with waiting on us, Billy," he said, passing the joint so they could both take hits. "We like how you take care of our uniforms, and the 6-inch shine on the boots is outstanding."

"Thank you, sir!" Billy replied. "I like doing whatever you guys want, sir, and that no one puts me down for the way I am, sir."

Karl told Bill to warm him up, and Billy followed the order, Soon Karl's stiff, thick dick stretched out sideways and formed a lump in the starched tan uniform trousers that he was wearing. He stood up and had Billy unzip his fly, and put this dick in his mouth. Karl softly fucked his throat, and then stopped and told Billy to hold his mouth still. His dick softened, and when Billy realized that Karl was pissing, he gagged and retched.

"Whoa there," Karl said. "Don't worry, we drink our own piss in survival training. Just hold your breath and swallow."

Karl had him clean off the floor with a rag from a drawer in the shoe-shine chair, allowing Billy to collect his thoughts. Suddenly it occurred to him that his college dad had passed another letter from his high school old buddy who'd joined the Marine Corps. He had read the letter in a hurry, and hadn't paid attention to the detail, but now he remembered clearly that the Marine had discussed it.

The Marine had written that there's nothing like having a straight guy's soft dick in your mouth to make you feel queer, and nothing more humiliating than having that dick piss in your throat.

Even though one was a lance corporal and the other was a sergeant, he had to call them "sir," and do whatever they told him to and then thank them for it. The worst and best part, he wrote, was that the new roommates were nice to him. The first Marine was rough, but these two were the opposite. Living with them eliminated any separation and put him under their control, but their manner made it impossible for him to complain.

It was a long letter, and Billy had skimmed most of it. He only vaguely remembered Rick asking him what he thought about it, but now he figured his college dad had passed it on. As he swallowed Karl's piss, he wondered what else he hadn't noticed.

Billy had met Bart when he was finished riding. He touched up his motorcycle and his boots, and Bart told him to come to his room to change the cage. By now, they knew the drill: Billy would take off everything but his T-shirt; Bart would unlock the cage; Billy would remove the tube and cage, and use Bart's electric shaver on himself. Then Billy would lubricate the replacement tube and put it inside his dick and slide the cage on so Bart could lock the apparatus.

"Okay, Billy, we're gonna get ya stiff and measure ya, but first there's this," Bart said, producing a thick rubber band, doubling it over, stretching it out, and slipping it onto the base of Billy's dick and balls. "Now when you get hard, I don't want you touching it, you hear?"

"No sir, I won't touch it," he replied, as Bart reached over on the desk and strapped a piece of metal onto his gloved hand. Billy recognized it as a scalp massager of the kind that his barbers used at the end of haircuts. Bart turned it on massaged behind Billy's balls, and he was hard in seconds.

"Three and seven-eighth inches," Bart said with a smile. "Those balls of yours aren't very big, but at least they work. Now take that rubber band off, look me in the eye and think about getting soft. Lower down, Billy. Lower down."

He waited for 15 or 20 seconds, and Billy was still hard.

"Lower down, Billy," he said, reaching out and pinching his dickhead hard. In an instant, Billy was soft.

"There you go, little guy," Bart said. "Now you're going to come on up again."

Bart repeated the process a couple of times. Not only was Billy unable to get soft, but he became increasingly agitated, and suddenly grabbed his own dick.

"No!" Bart said, his voice suddenly a low growl. This time, he not only pinched Billy's dickhead but curled his hand and punched his balls, causing him to cry out. "Lower down, Billy. I told you not to touch yourself!"

"I'm sorry, sir!" he replied, frantically, his dick soft again. "I couldn't help it, sir!"

"That's an explanation but it's not an excuse, Billy," Bart said. "You did something I told you not to do. My own fault for thinking you could control yourself, but you disobeyed me and we're going to have to do something about that right now."

The Man's frown and tone cut deeply, but Billy knew he was right.

"Sir, I'm sor ..." he stammered, but Bart cut him off.

"Shut up and let me think," he said, harshly. "Now put that cage of yours back on and I'll lock you up."

Billy worked in silence, sniffling softly while his hands shook. With difficulty, he lubricated the tube and reinserted it into his penis, and fastened the outer cage to the large ring that circled the base of his balls and dick. Bart clicked the ring into place and locked the apparatus.

"Your job is to do your best with the chores, to follow orders, and to know your place," Bart said. "Our job is to accept you for what you are, and to train you about your place and keep you there. What you did just now wasn't the worst thing you could have done, but it's serious and I can't let it slide."

Bart led him to the end of one of the bed-couches where the wall and a closet enclosure formed a nook. He withdrew a pair of handcuffs from a case on his belt and fastened them around Billy's wrists.

"Okay, you face into the corner," Bart said, his voice beginning to soften. "I don't blame you for not being able to get that little squirt gun soft right away, but it was your doing to touch it. So I want you to stand here and think about what it means for the four of us to be giving orders, and what it means for you to obey them."

"I'm sorry, sir," he replied softly.

"That's fine, so now you just stand here for 45 minutes and think about it," Bart said in a hard voice, before turning away and leaving Billy standing in the corner. Bart picked up a book and began to study, while Billy stood, thinking. It was the first time any of them had reprimanded him, and the withdrawal of approval was devastating.

Now they were embedded deeply in his mind, and he worried that everything would become unraveled. His journey into submission had been ecstatic, and he didn't want to lose it. He would make sure to never disobey another order, no matter how difficult it was to comply.

"Okay, little fella," Bart said after the time had passed, his voice tender and his hand gently on Billy's shoulder. "Learned your lesson in the corner, little guy?"

"Yes sir," he replied, his muscles sore. "I'm really sorry, sir."

He had Billy lie on the bed while he shaved what little hair was on his chest, belly, and arm pits, and then moved to the shoe shine chair and beckoned Billy. As he'd done a few days earlier, he leaned over and spit on one of his tall boots.

"Why don't you lick that off, little fella," he said gently. Billy went to work, and Bart spit on the other boot as he went to work. "That a-little Billy."

When he was done, Bart had him buff the shine, and apply the first coat of polish.

"Now put your clothes back on and run down and get some sandwiches while these dry off," he said. "You can put a 6-inch shine on these tonight."

An hour and a half later, his boots gleaming, Bart stood tall in front of Billy's low chair. Bart had told Billy to upzip his fly and find his dick and put it in his mouth. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was smiling while Billy sucked and licked the enormous head of his dick. Then, in a matter of only 5 seconds, his dick softened while Billy still worked.

Bart pulled his flaccid dick out of Billy's mouth and told him to look up.

"Billy, I decide when I get hardons," he said, dragging his big balls and his soft dick across his face. "I'm also going to be deciding when you get hardons, even when you're not wearing that cage."

He took his dick out and spit on one of his gloves and put it back into Billy's mouth.

"Show me how you'd like to treat my stiff dick if I decide to get hard," Bart said. Billy sucked and licked, continuing to stare upward into Bart's smiling face. Bart got hard again, but this time did didn't put it back into Billy's mouth. Instead, he masturbated in front of him, and after a few minutes Bart squirted a huge load of cum onto his head, then spit into it and coated his hair.

"Leave that in your hair until tomorrow night, Billy," he said, as he put his dick back into his pants and zipped up. "After you take care of your dad and Sally, you can take your shower and wash your hair."

"Yes sir," Billy replied. "Thank you, sir."

The next day, back in his room, Billy asked Rick if he could read the letter again.

"I didn't have much time before, sir," he said.

Rick chuckled and handed it to him.

"You might as well make a copy, but don't let it get around," he said.

Rick's old high school friend had been regularly servicing another Marine, but when he shipped out to Okinawa two other Marines showed up on the night before the one of them left. The one Marine had set up a hidden camera, and showed the other two the pictures. Rick's friend was told to move into their apartment near Camp Pendleton.

The two Marines were straight, and were thoroughly amused by the arrangement. They required him to clean the place, cook their breakfasts and dinners, do their laundry, and take take of their boots and uniforms. The first Marine had outfitted him with a cage with a tube, and a buttplug, and he was told to wear them.

Nothing much happened for the first month, he said, but it all changed when they invited another Marine over. That one screwed him while he was caged. He couldn't have an orgasm, but he discharged on account of being fucked, and then spent the next couple of weeks wanting but unable to cum. The Marine was screwing him just often enough to keep him on edge most of the time, and the straight ones noticed.

They had taken to having him suck their dicks but never getting hard, and ignoring him while he tried to get them stiff. He'd have to spend an entire football game with his mouth on one soft dick or the other, while they drank beers and pissed in his throat. It was their way of humiliating him, and it worked.

As long as he was stationed at Pendleton, the roommates told him, he'd always be taking care of Marines. As soon as they told him, Rick's high school friend wrote that he had arranged to stay at Pendleton for another couple of years.

"I still don't think I'm a queer for everyone," the letter said, "but I'm sure as hell queer for my roommates and for the guy who screwed me."

A couple days later, Billy was back in Bart's room to change his cage.

"I'm going to handcuff you this time, so you won't repeat your mistake," Bart said. He started up the massager and got him hard, and measured again. There really wasn't any need so soon, but they'd do this each time for while anyway.

"Lower down, Billy," he said, snapping his finger and knowing that his dick wouldn't cooperate. "I'll give you 15 seconds."

Billy stayed hard, and Bart pinched the head of Billy's dick, painfully, until it softened. Then he vibrated it again, and repeated the command, the finger snap, and the time limit.

"I can't do it, sir!" Billy exclaimed. "I'm sorry sir, I'm really trying."

"Don't worry, little fella," Bart replied gently. "Rome wasn't built in a day. We'll get you there. I'll train you to get soft on command."

The long-awaited day had arrived: Billy would get his first squirt since being caged. Bart, Karl, and Jack gathered in Bart's room for the event. Clad in just his T-shirt, he buffed their boots.

"Come on over here, Billy boy," Bart said, his voice tender and seductive. "It's time you got yourself squirted off."

He motioned to the couch bed that had been moved to toward the middle of the room. His wrists were bound over his head by leather cuffs and attached hooks on the frame. Smiling warmly, Bart eased his legs back, attached leather straps that attached his calves firmly to his thighs. He spread them wide, and hooked them to the frame.

The tube on Billy's the cage was inside his dick and the metal plug was in his rear end. Another strap went tightly over his abdomen and attached to the frame, rendering him motionless. Jack completed the arrangement by screwing a small handle into the base of the plug.

Gently, the Men went to work. Bart put on his tight motorcycle gloves, put the scalp massager on his hand, and turned it on. Billy had been conditioned to get hard when it came on; the tube in his dick prevented it, but he felt himself buzzing and was consumed by lust as Bart began massaging behind his balls. As his did so, Jack used the handle to move the plug around and stimulate his prostate.

"There ya go, little robber," he said, tenderly. "Little boy's gonna get his squirt."

As the vibrations coursed through his body, Karl unzipped his pants his put his soft dick in Billy's mouth and pissed. As he looked up into Karl's eyes and swallowed, he felt his prostate throbbing and liquid leaving his penis. Bart kept the massager going for a few minutes until no more cum emerged, but there was no orgasm, no erection, and no relief.

"Billy got his first squirt in a month," Bart said, warmly. "How did that feel, little guy?"

"Thank you sir, but it doesn't feel like I came," he replied, breathlessly.

Bart smiled and removed the cage, then gathered Billy's cum with his gloved fingers and fed it to him.

"Your little squirt gun and balls might beg to differ, little buddy," he said, as Billy swallowed his own cum. "Even for a little set of balls, four weeks is more than enough to build up. You leaked out a whole bunch!"

It was an odd, intense feeling to be horny but not be able to become hard. He was slightly on edge all the time; he'd feel his balls buzzing when he saw them, and in spite of his best efforts found it difficult to conceal the intensity of his attraction. Five days later, Bart brought Billy into his room to change his cage.

When Billy removed it, his dick became hard right away without any prompting from the massager. Bart smiled and gently ordered Billy to lose his erection. When it didn't go down after 15 seconds, he squeezed the tip and punched his balls to make him go soft.

"You're backsliding there, little guy," he said. "Going to have to work on that."

"I can't help it, sir," Billy replied, while successfully struggling to keep his hand away.

"We'll do our best to get you there," Bart said, his voice tender and slippery. "Now put the other cage on."

When that was done, Bart strapped Billy to the bed as he'd done before, and used the massager and the butt plug handle to milk his prostate, spreading the fluid on his gloved hand and feeding it to Billy.

"Sir, I'll try as hard as I can," Billy said, his voice pleading.

Bart led Billy to the shoe shine stand and had him work on his boots, starting by licking them, and then shining them. When that was finished, he had Billy find his hardon and suck on it while he mixed his spit and precum and rubbed it on his face and his hair.

"I'm going to have to tell Rick about what happened before," Bart said.

"Yes sir, I understand," Billy said.

"Damn, that milking turned little Billy queer as hell," Karl joked one day at lunch with Bart, Jack, and Rick. "Kid can't help himself."

"It's where the rubber hits the road," Bart said. "I figure on milking him once every week or two. He's gonna be on edge all the time, but we're not gonna pay it any notice at all."

"Oh hell, of course he's queer," Rick said with a chuckle, "I knew it the day I met him. I figure he'll be the one who'll call himself one eventually."

"He's damn close to being there already," Jack said. "I can hardly wait to screw him."

"Hold on there, cowboy," Bart said. "Just keep it to that plug for now. Trust me, you'll get your chance."

A week later, Billy was back in Bart's room to change the cage. Again, Billy was unable to lose his erection, and wound up in the corner, handcuffed and on his knees on a couple of pillows, his nose touching the wall.

"I'll be back in half an hour, and I will be disappointed if you're still hard," he said, before leaving.

When he returned, Billy was in the corner, sniffling softly, still erect. The Men, wearing cock rings that added length and thickness to their already large dicks, were dressed in their newly-tailored highway patrol uniforms that outlined their half erections.

"Little robber looks excited," Jack said, speaking softly.

The gentle and even tender manner of the three ROTC guys was not on account of their care or concern for Billy. By nature, they were bullies, especially Jack, but Rick had warned them away from it, and when Billy responded enthusiastically they were won over. For Rick's part, he had begun without any strong desire to dominate Billy, but his behavior had convinced him to take a more active role.

"What's with the handcuffs, Bart?" Karl asked.

"The other week, when I got him hard, he grabbed his little rod," Bart said. "He swore he'd never do it again, but we know how these little rascals can be."

He spoke gently to Billy.

"Now, the only reason you're hard is so I could measure you," Bart said. "I've told you to lose your erections within 10 seconds, and given you chances to do it. Just now, I gave you a whole half an hour, but here you are."

"I'm sorry, sir!" Billy said. "I'm really trying, sir!"

"Let's give it one more try," Bart said, tenderly. "Lower down, Billy boy. Lower down, now."

Billy was unable to lose his erection, so Bart squeezed the tip hard and punched his balls, causing him to yelp and go soft. Then he led him to a corner of the bed and ordered him to kneel, spread his legs, and bend over. Jack had gone to Billy's backpack and gotten the handle for his buttplug, and then screwed it into the end of the plug and gently withdrew it.

"Okay, now put your cage back on," Bart said, his face a frown, his voice firm, and his tone one of disappointment. "Then put your shorts and your pants back on. While you're up, fetch us some tallboys and get yourself a Coke."

As Billy was carrying out the order, Bart went to the closet and got a thick leather belt. Billy saw it as he was returning with the beers, and knew what was coming. Bart lit a joint and passed it, and the three Men drank their beers while Billy sipped his soda.

"Now kneel on the floor, lean over on the bed, and put your face into the pillow, Billy boy," he said. "I know you've been trying, but I can't let this go."

He gave Billy six swats, the final three of them hard. When he stopped, Billy was whimpering.

"I'm sorry sir!" he said. "I really tried, sir!"

"I know, Billy," Bart replied gently, while rubbing the ass he'd just strapped. "Now let's get you back out of those pants so Jack can get in here."

"There you go, little robber," Jack said, his voice tender. He had donned a tight leather glove and was gently rubbing his asshole with his fingers coated in lubricant infused with a muscle relaxer. "I'm gonna get in there."

He inserted two fingers and slowly probed inward.

"That a-little Billy," he said. "Friendly cop for a good little fella."

Jack stood behind him as he knelt on the floor and laid his torso face down on the bed. He applied lubricant to his hard dick and gently pushed inside.

"Easy does it, little robber," he said, his voice a smooth whisper as he slowly rocked in and out, going a bit deeper each time. "There you go, Billy boy."

As Jack was drilling, Karl straddled the corner of the bed and sat down and moved Billy's face onto the erection outlined in the crotch of his tight gray uniform pants.

"Gonna give you something to suck on while Jack screws you," he said, as he unzipped his fly and displayed his hardon. "Open up, little guy."

Now Billy was impaled in both ends. The muscle relaxer, and Jack's careful technique, made the screwing barely painful at all, and Karl's dick in his mouth provided a useful distraction. Still, the sheer volume of Jack's enormous dick pushing so far in seemed to split him in two. It greatly accentuated his sense of being under control, not just by Jack but by all three Men in the room, and brought home the plug he'd been wearing.

In and out, in and out, relentlessly, the Man pushed his authority all the way inside, then pulled back, then back in. Time after time after time. Billy felt himself entering a different place, a feeling of being stretched and rearranged. He felt like a kind of thing, inanimate, existing for whatever purpose these Men determined.

At Karl's direction, he was using one hand to hold his belt in the back, and the other while sucking his dick, and he could taste the precum leaking. Jack leaned over and whispered into his ear, loud enough for the three of them to hear.

"Nice and easy for the little robber," Jack said, his voice tender yet firm, his dick now going all the way in with each gentle thrust. "There we go."

The stimulation of his prostate, and the penetration of the tight second ring deep inside, brought home the realization that he was entirely under their control, and of how deeply it thrilled him. He recalled the letter from Rick's high school friend about how he didn't know if he was queer but knew he was queer for the roommates he was servicing.

Karl's semen filled his throat, and Billy shuddered as he felt his own cum being pushed out of his dick. Then it was over, and like the last time he'd been milked, he didn't have the kind of orgasm he'd gotten by masturbating. There was no relief, and in fact he was more on edge than he had ever been.

Dad, I think I might be queer," Billy said one night. "I'm always thinking about you guys. I hardly ever think about Sally anymore."

Rick chuckled and spoke gently.

"I think you're the only one of us who's surprised about that," he said. "None of anything we've had you do is because you're queer. You'd be doing it no matter what. Keep up the good work and follow the rules, and you'll be fine. Understood?"

"Yes sir," he replied. "Thanks, dad!

"Now listen to me, and listen good," Rick said, his voice firm. "You don't expect it, ask for it, demand it, or talk about it. We don't want you staring at us either. Men hate being stared at by queers. Understood?"

"Okay, dad," Billy replied. "But could I say one more thing?"

"Okay, but that'll be all," Rick said.

"It's okay with me if you guys call me a queer," Billy said. "Just don't call me a faggot or a girl, sir."

Rick laughed.

"You'll be called whatever anyone feels like calling you," he said. "It's been that way all along. None of us has felt like calling you names. Anyway, remember what I just told you, and keep doing your job."

Karl had a date, and made his plans clear: "I'm going to be fucking that cheerleader again. That chick wears me out!"

That left Rick, Bart, and Jack to gather with Billy in Bart's room. It'd been two weeks since Jack had screwed him, and it was time for another draining. They started with the scalp massager, which caused Billy to become fully erect as soon as Bart turned it on.

Bart gave Billy the chance to lose his erection, knowing he'd fail. After 15 seconds, he squeezed the tip and punched Billy's balls, and he became soft. Then he had Billy attach the new cage, and lean over on the bed. At that point, Jack took over.

"You ever screwed a girl up the ass, Rick?" he asked.

"Tried it once," Rick answered, with a chuckle. "Got a few inches in, and she screamed bloody murder."

Jack laughed.

"You weren't doing it right, brother!" he said as he lubricated Billy's asshole. "Now, only 1 in 10 chicks like it anyway, but only 1 in 10 queers don't. Either way, you've got to know how it goes."

He lubricated his own dick and eased himself inside. He started slow, withdrawing completely and then re-entering and going in farther.

"You don't just shove it in like when you're screwing a pussy," Jack said. "It's a lot tighter up the back way. There's a second asshole up about 6 inches, and ya got to go slow there too. Easy does it."

Billy moaned softly as Jack's rhythm built. Soon, he was sliding in all the way.

"Not a lot of girls like this even if you do it right," Jack said as he screwed. "But once you screw a guy, you own him. And if that guy's a queer like little Billy here, he's got to be watched afterwards so he doesn't turn himself into a faggot bitch backing up against ever dick he sees."

Rick chuckled.

"Damn, Jack, you got the whole snake in there!"

Billy tightened around Jack's steady invasion, his muscles moving involuntarily. Cum oozed through the tube in his cage while Jack's spasms filled his insides. Then it was over and Jack withdrew slowly. Just as before, Billy felt no relief.

"What do you say, little robber?" Jack asked gently.

"Thank you sir!" Billy replied. "Yes sir! Thank you sir!"

Afterwards, Jack sat in the shoe-shine chair while Billy buffed his boots.

"You know, Rick, that Sally loves getting cornholed," he said, laughing. "A few days ago, me and Karl and Bart dicked her in all three holes at once. Damn, she's a wild one. Can't get enough stiffness!"

A few days later, Rick asked Billy how things were working out. It had been a month and a half of taking care of the four Men, and while it was obvious that Billy was satisfied with his role, his roommate and college dad wanted to hear it in Billy's words.

"Little guy, I told you a while back not to come running to me if you didn't like any of it with those guys," he said. "You haven't complained, and in fact it looks like you take to it. But now's your chance to tell me anything you want to change, and we'll consider it."

"Dad, everything you just said is right," he answered. "A lot of it reminds me of the best times I ever had in junior high school. I guess if anything, I'd like more of it, sir."

Rick raised his eyebrows and asked him to explain.

"Sir, before I was in high school, I'd have odd jobs, and I'd have to give all my earnings to my father," Billy said. "He'd give me an allowance and I'd have to write down how I spent it and give the record to him. I'd also be told what to wear to school, and I had a bedtime."

"It sounds like it was pretty strict," Rick said.

"At least until high school, sir," Billy said, his voice wistful. "Then my father started working longer hours and things loosened. It felt weird, like drifting alone or something. I didn't like it much."

"So you liked it better in junior high," Rick replied. "How old were you, 12 or 13? Maybe 5 feet tall?"

"I was 12 when I entered seventh grade," he replied. "I turned 13 during the school year, and I was 14 when I started high school. I think those were the best years, sir. If I could do anything, I'd have it be like that."

"Most guys can't wait to grow up, Billy," Rick said.

"Part of me really wanted to, sir," he said. "In eighth grade I was only 5 feet tall, and I remember getting a hard-on and measuring it. I was only 2-1/2" long. I started getting bullied in high school, and that's when my father told me to find some school dads."

"And you liked that better?" Rick said.

"Yes sir," Billy replied. "They stopped the bullying and they were nice to me like you guys have been."

"But they didn't have you suck their dicks, right?"

"No sir," he replied. "I did a lot of what I've done for you guys, but not that. I would have if they wanted."

"Funny thing is, your father raised you right and you're capable of managing yourself," Rick said. "I'm sure you know that, but you're comfortable having someone else in charge."

"Yes sir," Billy said. "I didn't start growing until high school, sir. My younger brother was taller than me by the time he was in sixth grade, but when he started hassling me for it, my father stepped in and told him to cut it out. I had always wanted to be taller and bigger, but when I look back on it, junior high were my favorite years."

Rick smiled again, and sat next to Billy and put his arm around his shoulder.

"So he was strict but he protected you," he said, warmly. "That's what a good father does."

"Yes sir, that's what he did," Billy said. "He has always treated me well, just like you do, dad."

"I'm sure you weren't always a good boy," Rick said. "So when you did wrong, how did your father punish you?"

"It depended on what I did, sir," Billy replied. "Sometimes I'd get a spanking, or have to stand in the corner. Probably the worst was when I was in high school and I broke curfew and came home drunk. My father used a belt that time, and for the whole year my curfew was 10 o'clock. I also had to turn over my earnings from the country club, and went back onto an allowance."

"Probably not the worst thing, huh?" Rick asked. "Bart told me that he had you stand in a corner when you touched your squirt gun."

"I deserved it, sir."

"So are you trying to tell that you want to be treated like you were in junior high school?" Rick asked. "I suppose you want me to be your dad for real, then, because that's what it would take."

"Yes sir," he replied. "Both of those."

"Well, Billy, that's a big deal," Rick said. "Up to now, this has been kind of a game, but you're wanting me to step into your father's shoes, is that right?"

"Yes sir," he answered. "The only thing about this that I would like to be different is that it wouldn't be a game, sir."

"I want you to be sure," Rick said. "You are talking about putting yourself under my authority all the time. No one has more authority than a father."

"That would be perfect, sir!" he replied.

"It would be three and a half years, Billy."

"Yes sir," he said. "I don't want to be able to call it off. I don't want to be able to back out, sir."

"I'll have to think it over, Billy," he said, "and so do you."

Later that week, after another three-way with Sally, Rick asked if he'd thought it over about being treated as if he was in junior high. The first step would be talking it over with the ROTC guys.

"Yes sir, it's what I want," Billy said. "I'm sure, dad."

A couple more days passed until they talked again.

"Billy, the other guys are okay with it," Rick said. "It won't change what you're doing for us, but there'd be a bunch of other changes."

"Yes sir," he replied. "It's not just about what I do for you and the other guys, sir. It's more than that."

"We're going to have to clear it with your father and mine," Rick replied. "They'll be up here in a few weeks, and we're going to talk it over. In the meantime, I'm going to have to think it through, because it'll be more work for us here."

Billy gave a look of alarm.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to tell them everything," Rick said. "I think they'll be happy about it. But this won't be some game, Billy. If you want me to take your father's place, he's going to have to know about it."

"Okay, sir," Billy replied with relief. "There's some of this that I hope he doesn't know."

"Billy, I know you want to do this, but I'm going to give you some chances to call it off," Rick said. "Once you get locked down, it's going to be for the rest of your time in college. I want you to understand that. If you change your mind, no one will hold it against you. Got it?"

"Yes sir," he replied.

"Okay, your first chance will be on Friday night," Rick said. "You're what, 18 years old?"

"I'll be 19 in January, sir," Billy said.

"And how big was your hard dick before you went with the cage?"

"Just shy of 4 inches, sir."

"No one can make you 12 or 13, and that's a good thing because no one wants to stick their dick into a little kid," Rick said. "But there's a kind of cage that'll shrink you back down to where it was then, and that'll have to be part of it."

"Dad, does it hurt, and is it forever?" he asked.

"Bart told me you wouldn't feel the difference," Rick said. "It'll take a couple months, and you'd grow it all back in a year if you stopped wearing it. So next time Bart changes your cage, you'll tell him whether you want the same cage or the new cage. If you tell him the same cage, I'll call this off."

The day before their fathers were to arrive, Rick sent Billy to meet Karl by the motorcycles after dinner. He arrived there after dark, and 15 minutes later Karl roared in. The small parking space was set apart from the main lots, and dimly lit by a distant flood light, and was deserted.

As he dismounted the bike, Billy gasped at the sight of Karl in his leather jacket, weathered from lots of use, the riding chaps worn over jeans so tight they were almost painted on, bulging outward below the belt buckle. The jeans were worn over the tops of a pair of boots that, along with the motorcycle, Billy had cleaned and polished a few days earlier.

"Get your buffing cloth out and shine up my boots, little guy," Karl said, sitting on the seat with his arms crossed and his feet on the riding pegs. As he drank a tallboy he'd taken out of one of the saddlebags, Billy picked a few pieces of gravel out. He shined one boot and walked to the other side and repeated the order.

"You're looking sharp, Billy," he said. "Now get your cloth out and wipe down my bike."

Billy finished the job in short order, and Karl produced a flashlight from his pocket, grabbed another beer, and led him to the spot where he would fill up his water bucket when giving the motorcycles a thorough cleaning. The spigot was located in a corner enclosed by a labyrinth of low concrete walls, with water pipes serving the dormitory at various heights above the ground.

"When that dad of yours came to us and said you were okay with sucking our dicks, me and Bart weren't sure we wanted any part of it," Karl said as they sat together on one of the pipes. "Jack was the only one who was in favor of it, but we didn't want the hassle."

"Hassle, sir?" Billy asked.

"The queers in high school were brats, at least the ones anyone knew about," Karl replied. "Jimmy thought he was doing us a favor, and then he blabbed about it. He figured that he was special or something, and that he had some sort of right to our dicks. We had a hell of a time with him, and me and Bart didn't want to go through it again."

"I can see that, sir," Billy said.

"See, Jimmy was a smartass little faggot," Karl said, nearly spitting out the words. "Yeah, we got him to behave, but he'll never be anything but a little faggot 'cause he'll never know his place. Didn't bother me that he liked stiff dick, but the little squirrel didn't respect Men, and that doesn't fly."

"No sir, it doesn't," he answered. "I respect Men, sir."

"We'd have dropped all of this in heartbeat if you didn't, and we sure as hell wouldn't have agreed to this next step you want to take," Karl replied. "I don't see it being much different, but Rick says it'll mean that he'll take your father's place for the rest of the time you're in college. So just keep on doing what you've been doing, and it'll be fine."

Billy smiled widely.

"Thank you, sir!"

"You seem to really like taking care of us, and not just our dicks," Karl said. "See, none of us is queer. The squirts are fine, but with us it's more about rank order. Jimmy never understood it, but you do."

"I try, sir," he replied. "If I get it wrong, I hope someone will just tell me, sir. My college dad has given me some rules about being queer, and one of them is not to bring it up. Sir, since you brought it up, I'd like to say some things about it if it's alright with you. But if it's not alright, then I don't have to."

"It's okay, Billy," Karl replied. "What's on your mind?"

"When I told Rick that I'd be okay with sucking your dicks, I figured it was part of making myself useful, sir. That's why I asked not to be called a queer. I guess I didn't want to think I was, sir," he said. "Not only that, but I didn't even like the queers in high school."

"Did they try to come onto you or something?" Karl asked.

"A couple of them saw that I hung around with the jocks," he replied. "They thought I was one of them and asked me how I could get them to let them suck their dicks. I told them that I didn't have any idea because I didn't do it, sir. And it was true until I got here. Anyway, I didn't like them. Looking back, I think it was kind of for the same reason you guys didn't."

Karl smiled, cracked open another beer, and lit a cigar.

"So what changed your mind?" he asked.

"I've been asking myself that, sir," Billy replied. "It wasn't just one thing. I'm in a psychology class with my college dad, and I learned that I've got a service mentality and that there's nothing wrong with it. When Rick told me I'd have to wear the cage if I wanted to see Sally, and I told him I'd think about it, I realized that I was thinking about him and not her.

"The cage, and the way I have been squirted off, and how you guys haven't put me down for it, was part of it, sir. Not being able to masturbate has made me think about you guys a lot. And the rules about not going after you help a lot, because it makes me feel different than the ones in high school.

"I really like taking care of your dicks, but it's more than that, sir. I hope that my college dad will let me suck his dick sometime, but I will never ask him. If he wants me to, it will be great, but I don't ever want to be some fag who chases after dicks. That's about all I've figured out, sir. I hope I haven't said too much about that, sir, but you asked so I'm answering truthfully, sir."

Karl smiled and nodded.

"You're right, I asked, so there's nothing wrong with answering," he said. "But one thing: Can you tell me about this thing about being treated like a little kid? I figure that even a queer wants to grow up."

"I never would have said anything until my college dad asked me how all of this was going for me, sir," Billy replied. "All I can figure out is that when I was in junior high, my father watched over me and I really liked it. I know I'm an adult, but I liked it so much, so I told him when he asked. That's all I can figure out so far, sir."

"All this helps me understand," Karl said. "Sounds like the way you were raised hooked into something pretty deep."

"Yes sir," he answered. "My brother didn't like it at all, but I was different that way. The psych class helped with that. I'm naturally submissive, I guess, but I need to be respected for what I am, and all of you guys see that. I really hope it will stay that way, and that if I do wrong I'll be told so I can try to make it right, sir."

Karl reached over and rubbed Billy's scalp with his knuckles, a rare show of affection.

"Don't worry too much about any of that," he said. "I don't know how it works between two queers, but when a queer does it for a Man who's not queer, he's got to remember his place, and you sure as hell do."

Billy smiled widely.

"Thank you sir!" he said. "I'm really glad that you understand. I promise I'll do my best and follow the rules that my college dad has given me, sir."

Karl finished his beer and his cigar, and withdrew a joint from his pocket. They both took a few hits, and Karl continued.

"I talked to Rick, and he says your father is okay with it. He just wants to be sure," he said. "As long as you obey him and follow his rules, I think he'll come around. Between the four of us, you'll get what you're looking for."

He stood up in front of Billy, rested his elbows on top of the wall behind him, unzipped the fly of his jeans, and withdrew his hose. Even flaccid, it was huge, probably 7 inches long and very thick.

"Open your mouth and look me in the eye," he said, and inserted his dick and began to piss in his throat. It was the third time, and he swallowed eagerly.

"That's right, Billy," he said, his tone neither warm nor cold. "You do what you're told now."

His mind racing, Billy thought that Karl was the most natural commander of the four, a perfect fit for someone born to to make the military a career. He was the least talkative of the four, and the most sparing with affection. The firm yet matter-of-fact way he exercised his authority conveyed a rock-solid self-confidence. All of them were strong and dominant, but the Man who was pissing in his throat was the most confident of the four, and the message couldn't have been clearer: Of course his orders would be followed.

Billy swallowed the stream furiously, intent on not missing a drop. When it ended, he expected to suck him off as he'd done before, but this time Karl withdrew his dick and put it back in his pants and stood with his hands on his hips, looking downward.

"Thank you, sir," Billy said.

"Good job," he said, patting Billy's cheek. "Now go on up to Bart's room. Those guys are waiting for you."

"Yes sir," he replied. "Thank you, sir!"

"Hey there, little robber!" Jack said as he opened the door to Billy's knock. He and Bart were wearing their highway patrol uniforms: gray slacks with a black stripe up the side, light gray shirts, tailored tight, along with tight black motorcycle gloves.

"Why don't you get us some tallboys out of the fridge and a Coke for yourself if you want it," Bart said, as he headed for the shoe-shine chair. "Strip down to just your T-shirt, and then you come on over here."

He sat back in the chair smoking a cigar. When Billy brought him a beer, he spit on one of the boots, and Billy licked it off, and did the same when he spit on the other. He went back and forth, and when he'd had enough he told Billy to move his chair forward. He spit on a glove and put it in Billy's mouth.

"There you are, little guy," he said, his voice tender. "Now show me how you want to take care of my dick."

As he was sucking hard and licking Bart's gloved fingers, Jack moved up from behind. His hard dick stuck out of the fly of his uniform pants and glistened with lubricant. He applied some to his glove.

"Spread your legs, little robber," he whispered. "Friendly cop's gonna clean out the pipes while you suck off the other friendly cop."

Jack entered slowly, and built up a steady rhythm. Billy was electrified by the invasion and by the words that the Men spoke as Bart stood up, spit on his erection and began pumping his mouth.

"Looks like Billy boy decided he was queer once he started getting screwed," Jack said to Bart as he pumped in past his second ring. "I gotta say, this one's the ideal queer. Let's hope he stays that way."

Bart chuckled as he pumped in tandem with Jack.

"I think that dad of his has got him behaving," he said. "Remember Jimmy? Insubordinate little faggot squirrel thought he was special. I feel sorry for any queer who winds up messin' around with that piece of shit. You ready to shoot, buddy? I'm getting' close here."

Jack went all the way in and groaned, and they both came. Bart withdrew and aimed his last spasm into his glove.

"Lick that up, Billy," he said, and when he followed the order Bart rubbed the mixture of spit and cum into his hair. "There ya go, little fella."

"Okay, moment of truth," Bart said after Billy had licked up the jism that Jack had forced from his prostate. "Time to change the cage. Same one or the new one? Your choice. No hard feelings either way."

"I'd like the new one, sir," he replied.

Bart explained that the new cage was the same as the one he'd been wearing; the difference was in the lubricant.

"Two months should have your little stiffer down to 2-1/2 inches, and your soft dick will go down by an inch or so," he said. "Your balls will shrink some too. It lasts for a year, but once you're there I will check every six months to make sure."

"Hiya little squirt!" Billy's father said when he entered their room the next weekend, using what had been one of his affectionate nicknames before he had reached high school. "I brought those clothes you wanted. Rick, when's your father getting here?"

After Billy had requested the change in his status, Rick had called both fathers and explained the situation. Billy's father, long familiar with his son's subservient nature, strongly supported the idea of Rick stepping into his shoes. The same was true with Rick's father, who thought it would be an excellent way for him to acquire leadership experience. He saw nothing unusual about it, having recognized Billy's personality as a type he was familiar with in his years as a military officer.

"My father ought to be here any time, Ron," Rick answered. They'd agreed that first names would be the way to go this time, to underline the differences in status and authority between Rick and Billy. There'd be three Men and one boy among them that day.

"Billy has spoken very highly of you from the beginning," his father said at breakfast in the cafeteria, where the four of them went after Rick's father had arrived. "I was a little surprised by all of this at first, but not entirely. I know he was happy under supervision, but I figured he'd grow out of it as he got older."

"You'd be surprised by how many like Billy there are in the military, Ron," Rick's father said. "It surprised me when I started my career, but over time I saw that there are some who are born to take orders and other who are born to give them. I knew my son was going to be a leader, so I tried to raise him that way."

"You did a good job of it, Pete," Billy's father said. "Rick here is a natural, and Billy tells me that he's never bullied him or ridiculed him, and makes sure no one else does either."

Rick's father smiled at the compliment.

"Ron, I've always told Rick that a leader doesn't lord it over his Men," the colonel replied. "A leader's job is to understand who he's leading and to know what they need. Some of 'em need a kick in the ass and others need an arm around the shoulder."

Billy's father glanced at Billy as Colonel Pete continued.

"There are enlisted men who have no interest in moving up," he said. "We call them eternal corporals. They're not lazy or stupid. They just don't want to be leaders. In my first billet as a second lieutenant, I remember talking to one of them. Smart kid, could've been a sergeant anytime he felt like it, but kept flunking the exam.

"I thought I'd see what I could do to help him pass, and he told me he flunked on purpose. Said flat out that he liked having his decisions made by someone else. Wanted to take orders and not give 'em. I talked to higher-ranking officers about it, and that's when I found out about eternal corporals. Billy here looks like an eternal corporal."

It gave Billy a thrill to hear the Men talk about him the way they were. It reinforced his status, and it was clear that they were on board with the arrangement.

"I guess Billy hasn't told anyone that I spent three years in the Army," his father said. "I was a draftee between the Korean and Vietnam wars. Made my way up to sergeant, and they really wanted me to be an officer. I came close to doing it, but when I fathered a couple kids, I decided that I wouldn't earn enough in the military to support a family the way I wanted to.

"I never heard of these 'eternal corporals,' but now that you mention it, I can see what you're talking about. There was a lot that I appreciated about those three years. I entered the Army as a boy and came out as a Man, and for a time I thought it'd be good for my sons. But it can't happen for Billy because he's under the minimum height, and my other son has no interest."

"Yeah, it's not for everyone," the colonel replied. "I think this might be good for Billy to do it this way. A little different, but he'd get the discipline, and Rick would get the experience in leadership. At least if they both want to do it."

Billy's father turned to his son and spoke.

"I need to know that this is really what you want, son," he said. "You'd be handing over my authority to Rick here, and I want to be sure it's what you want to do. I'm not going to be here, and neither will the colonel. Do you trust him enough to obey him for the next 3-1/2 years?"

"Yes sir," Billy replied. "I've thought it through."

"It's not enough to trust him, son," his father said. "You will need to earn his trust by being trustworthy and obedient."

"Yes sir," Billy said.

"How about you, son?" the colonel said to Rick. "You're taking on a lot of responsibility here. I'm happy that you want to do it, but now that we're talking this over, I guess I'd want to ask you the same question that Ron just asked Billy. Are you sure?"

"You know, Pops, it won't change a whole lot," he replied. "Billy has been calling me 'dad' almost from the week we got here. I can't say it came as a huge surprise when he asked me to make it real."

The colonel smiled and looked at Billy.

"Ron's dead right about trust, Billy," he said. "Don't you forget it, son. You won't be in the military, but it'll be close, and trust is the bedrock."

Ron looked at his son, and spoke.

"You will obey and respect him, little man," his father said, using another childhood nickname. "Don't you ever forget that."

"I won't, sir," he replied. "I promise I won't."

By prearrangement, they split up and left the cafeteria to talk things over separately. Billy and his Rick's father went in one direction, and Rick and Billy's father walked in the other.

"I don't know if you've noticed it, but Billy has had a masturbation problem," Ron said.

"I know he was doing it, but I didn't think it was any of my business," Rick answered. "But I suppose I'll have to make it my business. Do you have any ideas?"

"I locked his hands into special mittens at night," Ron said. "It kept him from masturbating while he was in high school, but I'm not surprised that he started again. I don't think it's good for him. I brought them with me if you want them."

"Sure, I'll take them," Rick said. "He's a real good kid because of the way you raised him. I don't want to make him feel bad. But you're right, it's something I'll have to think about and deal with."

"Good," Ron said. "I know that people masturbate, but I always worried that it might turn Billy into a homosexual, and I can't forgive that."

"I understand," Rick said. "I'll deal with it."

"I appreciate it," Ron said. "I don't want anything getting in the way of his future. Before he came up here, we talked at length about things. He wants to follow me into accounting, so I'd be grateful if you can keep him on track."

"He told me that's what he wants to do, so I'll see to it that takes the right classes for that," Rick replied. "I'll watch his grades and study habits, and fill you in along the way. I'm not going to let him slack off of his schoolwork, and I'll take care of his masturbation problem too."

"Thank you, Rick," Ron said. "I'm sure it will go well."

An hour later, they met again and switched; now Rick and his father had a chance to talk by themselves, and Billy and his father would be alone too.

"I talked to Ron after you called last week," the colonel said. "Well, son, I think Billy's got queer written all over him, so I hope you're ready for all of that. I wasn't going to say it to his father, but a lot of the eternal corporals are queer. It's not a problem as long as they behave."

Rick laughed.

"Yeah, I know, Pops," he said. "Ron told me that he thinks beating off makes guys queer, so he used to lock up Billy's hands in at night. What the hell does he think his kid did in the bathroom in his high school?"

"Ron just wanted to believe," the colonel said with a chuckle. "Anyway, you ever hear of dick cages? They fit around someone's dick and lock up so they can't get to it. That'll be the way to go. I can find one and send it if you want."

Rick did a double-take and laughed again.

"Pops, talk about surprises!" he said. "Don't tell Ron, but the ROTC guys told me about those things. Billy's been wearing one for a couple months now. He tells me he likes it. Says it levels him out."

"Yep, that's what it does, at least for the ones who take to it," the colonel said.

"Bart got him into one that has a tube in his pisshole, and shrinks his dick," Rick said. "The other night Billy told me that his was 2-1/2 inches until he got to high school. That's how far he'll get. It's all in the lubricant. Once he gets there, we'll switch back to the regular lube, and it'll keep him there for a year."

"The ones I knew about never did that, but I guess science marches on!" the colonel said, with a chuckle.

"Pops, I promised Billy not to tell Ron about that," Rick said. "He really doesn't want him to know, okay?"

"You've got my word, son," the colonel replied.

"I can't actually turn Billy into a little kid, but if he want to be treated that way then he ought to have a dick to match," Rick said, smiling.

"So what about that girlfriend of his?" the colonel asked.

"Oh Sally?" Rick said. "First night I met her, she said Billy's dick was too small and wanted me to screw her. I've been doing it. So have the other guys."

"Chip off the old block!" the colonel replied. "Just make sure you treat that kid right. Who knows, maybe he'll take your dick."

Rick smiled and nodded.

"I figured it out right away, and so did the others," he said, explaining what Billy had done with he and Sally, and for the other guys on the dorm floor. "Billy's the only one who didn't want to see it, but last week he came out and told me. Maybe I'll let him sometime, but to be honest I've got more pussy than I can handle around here."

The colonel laughed.

"Looks like the only one who still doesn't know is his chump of a father," he said. "It ain't bad to feed Billy your dick every now and again. But always make damn sure he knows who's boss. The last thing you need is some queer who wants to be your wife and then starts making demands. A wife is enough trouble."

The four of them met again for lunch. Rick explained that Billy had been doing laundry and other chores for him and the ROTC guys on the floor, spending about 10 hours a week at it. He showed the two fathers the notebook Billy had started keeping that showed how he spent his time, including the chores he did.

"Does everyone know he's doing that?" Billy's father asked.

"Some guys do, but Billy only works for the four of us," Rick said. "Billy, I haven't told you until now, but those guys have been paying you $20 a week, and giving me the money. There's some built up, and I'm going to give you an allowance. You'll account for everything you spend."

"Yes sir," he said, smiling from ear to ear. "Thank you, sir!"

"He's going to be practicing to be a waiter by taking care of things at the card games we have, but he'll get paid for that too, Ron," Rick said.

"Rick, when we're done here, we're going to go to the bank," Ron said. "We're going to make you the account custodian and get a new cash machine card, so if Billy wants to make withdrawals he'll need your signature. When he gets that restaurant job, have his work send the money to that account."

"That sounds good," Rick said. "I'll copy you on how Billy spends the money."

Ron waved his hand away.

"No need," he said. "If you're going to step into my shoes then you ought to step all the way in. Billy, I don't want you running to me. Remember, Rick will have all my authority here, so you have to obey him."

"Yes sir!" he replied to his father. "I'm going to do my best."

"That's good, son," Ron said. "I've given Rick my phone number, and I hope he doesn't call me with any disappointing news."

"He won't sir," Billy replied.

"Rick, I want to thank you for your willingness to do this," Ron said. "I was worried about sending Billy here on his own, but I can see he's in good hands. I know you'll keep a close watch like he needs, and I can see that you will protect him and keep in touch with me."

"Ron, you've got my word on all of that," Rick replied. "Now that I've decided to join the military, I figure this will be good leadership experience for me. I'll take good care of your son. You can count on that."

After their fathers left, they talked. Rick told him it was his last chance to call it off.

"Billy, until now, you've been able to back out of any of this," he said. "I want you to think it through once more, because you can still call it off. Forget about the details for a second here, and let's get down to brass tacks. I'm seeing a capable young man who wants to be treated as a boy. Correct?"

"Yes sir, that's right."

"You're going to need to be sure of it, Billy," he said. "I'm willing to do it, and so are the others. I've thought about it myself, including how to make it stick. Remember that obeying your father wasn't always easy, and it won't always be easy with me."

Two days later, Billy repeated his wish.

"Okay, I'm going to give you one more chance to change your mind," Rick said. "Your father told me that you had a masturbation problem, and that he used to lock up your hands to keep you from doing it. You kept masturbating and then you lied to him about it for three years. You disrespected him, and you betrayed his trust. It's the worst thing a boy can do to his father."

"Yes sir," Billy said, his voice downcast. "I felt bad about it, and I still do, sir. It's a big reason why I am grateful for the cage. It keeps me from doing it anymore, sir."

"Okay, Billy, you are going to write me a letter about everything you did as a boy. You'll will tell me how it's being corrected with your cage," Rick said. "You will also write to Sally. You'll tell her that she doesn't deserve to be led along. And you'll give me that letter before you send it to her so I can look it over first."

"But dad, do I have to tell her I'm queer?" he asked.

"Yep, and you'll be doing that in both letters," Rick replied. "This is where the rubber really hits the road, and that's why I'm giving you one last chance. Write those letters, and we'll be on. Change your mind, and we'll drop it. It's a big decision."

"I'll write the letters, dad," Billy replied. "You won't be sorry, sir."

Two days later, they talked again as Rick held the letters in his hand.

"These are good," he said. "I can tell that you're really sorry for what you did as a boy, and that you understand that Sally deserves to be free of any obligation to you. That took some guts, little man."

Billy smiled at the compliment.

"Now, you told me you didn't want to be able to back out of this," Rick continued. "Fact is that I can't actually force you to stick with it, so there are really only two ways to go. One is to do things the way I think you want, which is bullshit. The other is to make the cost of calling it off so high that you won't ever actually do it."

He handed Billy a large manila envelope and told him to look inside. He withdrew a set of pictures that showed him licking Bart's boots and sucking the dicks of the three ROTC guys.

"Wha-wha-what?!" Billy replied, terrified.

"Spy camera for drug busts," Rick said. "If you call this off, or if you betray my trust and I have to call it off, I will meet with your father and your brother and show them the pictures and copies of both letters. "

"Please, sir, don't!" Billy replied. "I'll be good, dad. I promise!"

"I'm sure you will, little man," he said. "I don't want you walking around in fear that I will run to your father for some little screw-up. Just know what I can do if I have to. But I really don't think I will. You've done great up until now, so I've got no reason to think that's going to change."

"It won't, sir," Billy replied. "If I make mistakes, I just hope you will give me the chance to correct them, dad."

"That's a deal, Billy," Rick said. "Now, I've already looked through your things and read the letters you saved. I found your mailbox key, and I'll read what comes in. Before you send any mail, you will give it to me to look over."

"Yes sir," he replied.

"Like I said in the beginning, no one's going to let your schoolwork slide and neither will you," Rick said. "You're a smart kid, and I expect you to get As and Bs here, and you'll show me your tests and papers and your course grades."

"Yes sir," he replied.

The strapping and screwings he'd received, and his new status, broke a dam inside of Billy's head. Now he was on edge all the time, craving humiliation from the four-man fraternity. And they had their own plans.

One day, Rick took Billy to the boys' section of a clothing store in town, where he picked out what he'd be wearing: Half a dozen pair of buckle-back slacks that ended at the ankles; half a dozen button-down shirts; a half-dozen white T-shirts; a half-dozen pair of white crew socks; two pair of white sneakers; a pair of black shoes that matched the ones he wore when he waited on the guys; two clip-on ties. He was to keep everything cleaned and starched, the shoes shined, and the sneakers washed.

The low soles of the sneakers and shoes cut three inches from his height in the boots he would no longer wear, making him more than a foot shorter than Rick when fully clothed. Along with the clothes, the difference between him and the other four was magnified. But rather than call him names, they went in the opposite direction.

"Alright little robber!" Jack said one day as Billy approached the cafeteria table at lunch, dressed in gray slacks, a white shirt, one of the ties and shoes with a 2-inch shine. "Did your dad pick out those duds for you? You're looking good!"

"Thanks, sir!" Billy replied. "Dad picked them out the other day."

It was uniform day, and the Men at the table looked sharp themselves in their starched tan utility uniforms and gleaming boots. They day before, Rick filled them in on everything, and they agreed to step up their friendliness. No name calling, and no stiff-dicking for a while. Just lots of praise and smiles.

"I like that tie," Karl said, smiling and speaking warmly. "Looks sharp, little guy!"

"Thank you, sir," he replied, smiling at the praise. "Dad picked those out too."

When lunch was over, they stood up together. As they walked out of the cafeteria, Karl commented on Billy's height.

"Am I imaging things, or is Billy shorter?" he asked Rick.

"Yep, he was wearing boots with elevators in 'em to make himself taller," Rick replied. "He's actually not much more than 5'4" but the boots made him look like he's 5'8". He won't be wearing them anymore."

"We're going to take you up on that offer to practice being a waiter," Rick told him one night. "Next weekend. I'll make it clear that it's practice, and that they'll have to throw money into your tip fund. After you've done it a couple times, you'll be working twice a week at Rudy's. I know the manager, and he's going to take you on next semester."

"Thanks, dad!" Billy said, smiling widely.

The dinner was held in the floor's activity room. The four were there, along with another four guys from the floor, and Sally and three girls from her dorm. Billy had three tables to wait on, and he did it flawlessly. At one point, Sally approached him and thanked him for the letter he had sent.

"It took a lot of courage, Billy," she said. "Your letter was very sweet, and I really hope you will find happiness. It just wasn't going to be with me."

One of the diners was Dave Brown, the stats guy. He sat with Rick, Jack, and Sally at one of the tables.

"So you're thinking of joining ROTC, I hear," Rick said, making sure Billy overheard at he served the table.

"Yeah, it looks like a good deal," Dave replied. "They pay for school if I give 'em three years. I can handle that, and the uniforms are God's own chick magnet."

They all laughed, including Sally.

"Bart's got a single, but I'm sure he'd be okay with you moving in," Rick said, noticing look of worry cross Billy's face, just as he'd intended. "You'd have to pay Billy $5 a week to take care of your laundry and your uniforms, but he does a damn good job of it. He's great with boots and motorcycles too."

Jack chimed in, with a smile.

"Billy's an artist with boots, that's for sure," he said. "And he knows a tailor, so your uniform will fit like a glove, brother. But you're going to have to move in with Bart, 'cause Billy doesn't have time to do all that stuff for every guy on the floor."

"You're making a good offer, fellas," Dave said with a chuckle.

"I know the guy who runs the motorcycle place," Rick said. "He's got a bike that he'll sell you for $1,000, and Billy will take good care of it. He'll starch your jeans, too."

Dave smiled widely.

"I hate starchin' my jeans," he said. "I got two pair at home that I wear to rodeos, but I didn't bring 'em here because I didn't want to have to take care of 'em. I'd rather ride three bulls in a row than starch another pair of Wranglers. Okay, fellas, I'm in!"

"Sir, I thought you said no one else would know," Billy said nervously to Rick, who joined him at the counter in the corner of the room where he was stacking used dishes after the diners had left.

"That was the plan, but things have changed and I decided we needed some help," Rick replied. "Dave's the only one of us who can keep a watch on you in those accounting classes, we're also going to need help other times."

"But sir, I thought ..." Billy replied, before Rick frowned and cut him off.

"First you just needed me to be the boss," he said, his tone firm. "Then it was doing things for Bart, Karl, and Jack. Then you told me you were queer, and then it was me taking your father's place, which is extra duty. And the masturbation."

"But sir, I promised not to go doing anything," Billy protested. "And it's impossible to masturbate anyway!"

"It was right on the edge to have you wandering around campus by yourself," Rick answered. "But with everything you told me, you can't be alone, and I had to bring on Dave to spread the extra work around." Billy hadn't counted on this being the result of his confession, now wondering what he'd gotten himself into. But he was trapped, given what Rick had on him.

"Does Dave know all about me, dad?" Billy asked.

"Yep, all of it," Rick replied. "That was what I decided."

"Yes sir," he replied, glumly. "I just thought you weren't going to tell anyone else."

"I told you there would be changes, and this is one of them," Rick said. "If I think I need to make a change, that's what I'll do. I will always have a reason, and you can ask me why, but it's my decision to make. Understood?"

"Yes sir," he replied. "I just didn't expect it, that's all."

"You were the one who wanted to be treated like you are in junior high school. Now, when you were that age, did you think about sex and masturbate?"

"No sir," he answered. "I know I shouldn't have done it, but none of that happened until I was in high school, dad."

"Kids and sex don't mix," Rick said. "They didn't mix for you, and you have asked to be treated that way. You told me and your father that you don't want to be able to back out, and you turned down three chances to call it off, correct?"

"Yes sir," Billy replied.

"If you thought that telling me you're queer would mean that you'd get dicked and called names, well, that's not how it'll work," Rick said. "You've still got the plumbing of a Man, so that still has to be drained, but you will have to behave according to how you have asked to be treated. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," he replied quietly.

"Now don't worry, little man. I'm happy with how you're doing, especially at dinner tonight," Rick said, his voice now tender. "And don't worry about Dave. He's not going to be telling anyone about you unless he clears it with me, and the same goes for the rest of them."

Billy brightened.

"Now look me in the eye, little fella," Rick said. "I thought you deserved to know why I decided to add Dave. But there'll be plenty of other times when my answer will be 'because I said so.' Now you just do your job. You're going to be the best little man you can be, and leave the rest your new dad. Got it?"

"Yes sir," he replied. "I will do my best, dad."

The group, now five, met for lunch a couple days later, and Rick spoke about Billy and how to treat him.

"Okay, fellas, I'm gonna let the cat out of the bag here," he said. "We all have to take a psych class for the distribution requirement. The colonel in charge of the ROTC program teaches it. Billy and I are in it together, and it's really interesting. In the first month, the guy talked about power and dominance.

"He thinks it's behind a whole lot of how the world works. He says most women are wired to please Men, and most Men are wired to run things. But it's not always true. About one-third of Men are wired to be commanded, and maybe 10% of them are hard-core about it, and 10% of women are that way."

"I don't know about the numbers, but yeah, it makes sense with Billy," Bart replied. "That guy's a born and raised servant, that's for sure."

"So I went to the colonel's office and told him there was a guy in my dorm who sounds like he's in that 10%, and that some other guys and me were wondering what to do," Rick said. "He said it depended on what the other guys wanted out of it. I said we like having liked having a servant, but we wanted to treat him right."

"Did ya tell him about everything?" Jack asked, chuckling.

"Not all of it, but I did tell him about the cage and Billy wanting to be treated like a kid," Rick said. "He says Billy's the most submissive male he's ever heard of outside of a prison. He said the cage is a kind of castration but more effective because it's not permanent and is a constant reminder of what he is and what he's not.

"And wanting to be treated like a kid is him wanting to be powerless because a father has all the power. He said my job is to act like a father and be his boss and his protector, and that your job is to go along with all of it and not crush him."

"Yeah, that makes a lot of sense," Karl said.

"He says the big thing is for me to make sure that Billy knows that he's getting what he asked for," Rick continued. "He said to tell my friends to lay off any insults even if he wants them, and to go the other way."

"So there's a method to the madness, then," Jack said with a chuckle. "Now I really get it, brother! Or should I say dad?"

Rick smiled at the group.

"One more thing, guys," he said. "Billy's just going to be treated like a kid, but he's still a man and queer as all get-out. I've told him that little kids and sex don't mix, so there'll be no stiff dicking him for quite a while. All smiles, all praise, but no sex including talking about it. Trust me, it'll drive him nuts in the best possible way."

Jack laughed at the remark.

"Sounds like you want him all to yourself," he said, smiling.

"Don't worry, big guy," Rick said. "You'll get plenty of dick time in, just not until next year. As for me, I'm still thinking it over."

The semester would be ending in a month, but the team made a couple of changes that put at least one of the ROTC guys in every class and every study group. One of them walked him between classes, and he ate every meal with one or more of them every day. Rick gave him a curfew of 9 p.m., with lights out at 10, unless he had permission to be up later and had an escort. If he wanted to study at the library, he had to find one of the five to go with him.

They kept the conversations light and friendly, and offered much praise for his work and for his clothes. Bart and Rick handled the weekly "cleaning out the pipes," doing so as a matter of maintenance. They used two gloved fingers inside, pressing on his prostate, and a thumb massaging between his rectum and testicles, all while casually talking among themselves about school-related things.

Wherever he went, he was under someone's watchful eye, and he clung to it. His new position, being treated as much younger, gave him a certain mental freedom to look up to them, and at them when he could.

The Men were perfectly aware of the looks, but they never called him any names, and in fact went in the opposite direction. It was clear to Billy that they might as well be doing it, something that only made him more eager to please them.