Hosting Skater Dudes
By Ben C.
This story contains sexual acts (oral, domination, humiliation) between young males.
If you don't like it, or it is illegal in your country or state, please stop reading.
Please keep in mind that Nifty needs our donations to keep this great free service running.
Some of the readers have criticized me for the unfair treatment of Rob in this story and suggested more or less romantic turns for the next chapters. I'm sorry guys, but this is a story of domination and submission, and it's written for readers who enjoy these kind of things – in fiction, not in real life. Please keep in mind that this is 100 % fiction, and no fags were harmed during the writing process of this story.
If you like this story, you might like these also:
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/game-sessions/
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/scottys-tailor/
Part 5
Chaz looked me in the eyes for a long time, like inspecting the contents of my head.
"You said that you're my bitch. But I don't see it in your eyes. You need a lesson, faggot."
Chaz gave me the come on -sign with his finger, jumped on his bike and started the engine. I followed him and we were on the road again. His GPS planned us a shortcut to the highway through a small town.
I was nervous, as Chaz told me he was going to teach me a lesson. He said he wasn't going to hurt me, which was a relief of course, but I knew that the lesson would be merciless. I cursed myself for hitting the roof in front of Chaz like that, forgetting Danny's advice. And now I was going to pay for my stupidity in one way or another.
On the outskirts of the town were the usual fast-food joints, waiting for the inhabitants of the sleepy town. Chaz seemed to be looking for something particular there, as he slowed down, scanning the surroundings. He stopped in front of a hamburger joint and studied it for a while with the engine running idle. There were families with little kids having a late lunch along with some office workers. That seemed not to be what he was looking for, so he kicked the bike in gear and we were on the move again.
A few hundred yards down the road stood a tall sign of an ice cream parlor, Iceman Bob's. On top of the sign was the stupid logo of the place, a fat guy sitting on a huge cone. Chaz stopped the bike again and observed the place. It was really just a booth with some tables outside. The only customers were three kids sitting at one of the tables. The guy on duty was leaning out of the hatch and seemed to be chatting with the kids. Chaz made a u-turn, rolled his bike to the parking lot and turned the engine off.
"Time for a break," he said.
We hung our helmets on the handlebar and walked over to the parlor.
The three boys sitting at the table were maybe fourteen years old. The vendor, a teen guy about my age, waved his hand to us.
Chaz shook hands with the guy and greeted the kids with a wide grin.
"Hi guys, I'm Chaz. How's everybody doin' today?" he asked and received a round of okays from the boys.
He sat down at a table next to the kids and took a look at the little plastic-covered menu on the table.
"Go get me a Coke," he said.
The kids looked surprised by his blunt command. They exchanged wide-eyed looks, whispering and giggling expectantly.
I went over to the booth to place Chaz's order. The guy behind the counter was a really nice-looking boy-next-door type; the kind of a guy that joints like this hire for keeping up a youthful and cheery atmosphere. Blue eyes, straight blond hair, combed behind his ears that were decorated with small golden studs. The Iceman Bob's ball cap he was expected to wear on duty was turned backwards, sprouts of blond hair flooding over the strap. The three top buttons of his blue uniform shirt were unbuttoned to show some tanned skin to the young ladies coming over to have some ice cream and to flirt with the pretty boy working there. The tag pinned to the shirt told me his name was Jason.
He greeted me with a broad white smile.
"Welcome to Iceman Bob's, man. What can I get for you?"
I smiled back and was just about to answer when Chaz's raspy voice made me freeze.
"Hey, bitch!"
I was too embarrassed to turn around and face him. I heard the kids giggle behind me.
"Gone deaf, bitch?"
I turned around, showing Chaz and the kids my beet-red face. It seemed like my lesson had just started.
"I changed my mind. Bring me a vanilla shake. And make it quick, faggot, I ain't got whole day."
Jason had difficulties holding back laughter. I was about to repeat Chaz's order to him but he put his hand up.
"I heard your boss," he chuckled.
"That'll be four-ninety," he said. I handed him five bucks and told him to keep the change.
"Gee, thanks," he said sarcastically and dropped a dime into his tip box.
I waited while Jason buzzed with his blender. He handed me the shake and I took it to our table and sat down, sulking.
Chaz started to chat with the kids, just shooting shit about chicks and football and motorbikes. That went on for a while and then:
"Hey, how about some ice cream guys? I'm buying."
"Sure, thanks Chaz!"
"No problem. Just tell the faggot what you want and he'll get it for you."
The boys were having a blast. Even more than the offer of free ice cream, they were thrilled about the go-ahead to boss around and humiliate a guy three years their senior. They had gotten their share of it from the older boys, of course, and now they were able to pay back through me. They knew Chaz had their back and I couldn't do anything.
The brashest of the pack, Tim, an angelic-looking dude with long, blond wavy hair, was the first to give me his order.
"Listen, faggot," he started and glanced at Chaz to make sure he was not walking on thin ice. Chaz just sat back with an approving smile on his face, so Tim went on.
"Go get me a Chocolate Bomber with extra cherries, bitch!" he snapped, making everybody but me laugh. The other two followed suit.
"I'll have a Tropical Sunshine with cocoa chips. And hurry up, queer-boy!" said Josh, a skinny rocker-guy with unruly black hair down to his shoulders.
"Sunshine Rover with strawberries but don't cream on it, homo!" That was Matt, a jockish type with spiky blond hair.
Chaz and the boys were laughing their asses off as I walked to the counter, trying to remember the orders.
Jason waited me behind the counter, grinning.
"Whaddya want, bitch?" he asked loud enough to cause a fit of laughter.
I tried to remember the boys' orders.
"One Tropical Bomber with extra cherries and... and a Chocolate Rover," I stuttered.
Jason snickered.
"You gotta do better than that, fag," he said and handed me a piece of paper and a pen.
"Write down their orders and try again. And hey, be polite, they are our regular customers."
I went to face the grinning kids again.
Better get this over with, I thought, and stopped in front of Tim. I looked him straight in the eyes. He didn't flinch, just stared back with his blue eyes with an evil sneer on his young face; lounging low on his chair, hands deep in the pockets of his faded jeans. I had never felt so humiliated, but on the other hand, standing in front of this younger teen and waiting for his command was a huge turn-on for me. I was worried that the guys would notice the growing bulge in my pants.
"What can I get for you, Sir?" I asked and the boys exploded in laughter.
One by one the boys repeated their orders, laughing and calling me faggot, queer, cocksucker, homo, dick-licker, nancy-boy and all the other degrading names stored in their adolescent vocabulary, and I just stood there and wrote down their wishes. Then I took the paper to Jason and read it aloud. He tapped the screen of his cash register.
"That'll be twenty-nine dollars and eighty-five cents," he told me.
This seemed to be a pretty expensive ice cream parlor, but I didn't feel like arguing with him. I pulled three ten-dollar bills from my wallet. Jason took them, put twenty bucks into the cash box and slipped the third bill into the back pocket of his jeans.
It took quite a while for Jason to prepare the ice cream cocktails with all the extras, but finally he placed three plastic bowls on a tray and handed it to me.
I carried the tray carefully to the boys' table. I had been tripped up so many times in the school yard by the jocks that I knew what to expect and managed to dodge Tim's foot when he suddenly extended it as I went past him.
The boys indulged with their sumptuous ice cream treats, occasionally throwing a cherry or a strawberry at me. Finally Josh, the skinniest of the group, burped and set his spoon aside. He hadn't finished his ice cream.
"You don't wanna eat that, Josh?" Tim asked.
"No, I'm good. Thanks a lot, Chaz."
A smug smile appeared on Tim's face. Kids tend to be cruel by nature, and Tim definitely was no exception.
He raised Josh's bowl.
"Chaz, your bitch didn't get any ice cream. Can I feed him?"
Chaz laughed.
"Sure, go ahead, man."
Tim moved over to our table with the bowl. He sat down next to me and smiled. Then he lifted the bowl, hocked up an ample loogie and let it run slowly down into the bowl. He stirred the mixture carefully with the long spoon.
"Hey Tim, wait!" Jason called and jogged over.
He took the bowl from Tim, leaned down and blew his nostrils one by one into it.
He grinned at me.
"Thanks for the ten cent tip, faggot," he said and sat down at the table to enjoy the show.
Tim took the bowl again, stirred the stuff a bit and raised a spoonful for everybody to see. A long string of slime hung off the spoon.
"Open up, fag-boy," he said cheerfully.
Now, you might ask me why the hell didn't I just leave at that point. I still had more than enough money to buy a bus ticket home.
Well, that's a good question. But by now I was totally hooked with the guys who had taken over our house. I kinda felt that as cool straight boys they were entitled to certain privileges, and I had already adjusted to that. I knew that if I pissed Chaz off, then Luke and Danny would be pissed with me, and might decide to leave. I hated the idea of them leaving, and if I had to suffer a bit to prevent it, so be it.
I opened my mouth and Tim brought the spoon slowly closer.
"Wrooom, here comes the big truck bringing goodies to faggee," he babbled like a dad feeding his toddler.
Tim dumped the sticky stuff into my mouth, encouraged by jeering and cat-calls from his audience. Everybody watched as I swallowed the stuff with some difficulty. It didn't actually taste that bad, but the idea of eating Tim's and Jason's slimy snot was not pleasant.
Tim dug out another spoonful.
"Faggee, yum-yum coming," he babbled and fed me more of the viscous stuff.
He fed me probably ten spoonfuls of that slimy substance and smeared my lips and cheeks with every load.
"There," he finally said and put the bowl and the spoon aside.
The boys seemed to be tired of tormenting me now, and they just lounged at their table, looking bored. After a while a black fancy SUV pulled over to the parking lot and the driver, a blond woman, honked the horn. She lowered the tinted window and leaned out.
"Hi, honey!"
"Hi mom!" Tim greeted her back.
"Hello, guys!" she greeted us. "Did you have a good time?"
We all waived back and told her we were having fun.
"Time to go home, guys! Say goodbye to your friends!"
The boys exchanged high-fives with Chaz and Jason. Tim put his hand on my shoulder and leaned closer, as if to say goodbyes, with his back to her mom. He spat me in the face.
"Bye, faggot," he said and ran over to the car.
I wiped Tim's spit and the snotty ice cream off my face with Tim's crumpled napkin. The only feeling I had left in my mind was relief that my lesson was now over.
Little did I know.
Jason came over and sat down at our table. He offered Chaz a cigarette, and they enjoyed their smokes for a minute or two. Then Chaz broke the silence.
"Jase, you know your way around here. Any idea where I could buy some good weed?"
Jason hesitated before answering.
"Well, yeah, I do know, Chaz, but I don't think they'd sell to strangers. You know, undercover cops and shit."
"Okay. I get that. But how about you buying the stuff for me? "
Jason looked uncomfortable.
"I dunno, man. This is a small town and I go to school here. If I'd get caught selling pot, I'd get a lot of shit on my face."
"I see."
Chaz pondered his next line for some time. He blew a skillful smoke ring.
"Have you ever had a first-class blowjob, Jase? I mean, really got your cock sucked, until you shoot a load?"
"What? Fuck, no."
"Well, this is the chance of your lifetime, Jase. My business offer comes with a free professional blowjob. This faggot sucks like a fucking vacuum cleaner, man. Take my word for it. Want him to lick your balls? Sure. Wanna come in his mouth? No problem."
"Really?"
And so Chaz got his weed – which I paid, of course – and Jason got his blowjob.
Jason closed the parlor and hung a "Sorry, we're closed" sign on the hatch. Chaz waited at his table while I sucked Jason off on my knees on the tiled floor of his booth. That wasn't bad at all, his boy-next-door fuck muscle was clean and he had trimmed his crotch meticulously . I licked his smooth balls and made love to his eager jeans-snake, squeezing his tight jock-boy buttocks, until he shot his load into my mouth.
Jason panted and leaned on the counter with his pants around his ankles until his cock softened. Then he took a large ice cream bowl off the rack, filled it with water and washed his cock in it. I took a wad of napkins, moistened them in the bowl and wiped his cum off my lips and chin. Jason emptied the bowl into the sewer and put it back in the rack. I made a mental note to avoid ice cream parlors for a while.
I got up, hoping that this had been the finale of my lesson.
Jason smiled at me and patted my shoulder as I left his realm.
"No hard feelings, right?"
I sighed.
"No hard feelings, Jason."
Chaz was waiting for me with a friendly smile on his face. I walked over and stopped in front of him with my gaze down. I didn't want any more education.
"Sit down, man."
I sat down.
"Was Jase satisfied with the head?"
"Yeah."
"Good."
"So, anything you would like to tell me?"
I took a deep breath and lifted my gaze to meet his.
"Yes. I'm your bitch, Chaz."
He leaned over and took my chin between his fingers. He looked into my eyes for a long while, just as he had done at the boat house, moving my head gently back and forth. Finally he smiled and patted my cheek.
"Yeah, I can see it in your eyes now. "
He got up and stretched.
"Now, it's time to get back to our house. I want pizza for dinner."
"Yes, boss."
Chaz put his arm around my shoulder as we strolled towards the parking lot.
"Too bad I had to teach you the hard way, faggot. You disrespected me and I had to take action. I've got a reputation to protect. But your lesson's over now and everything's forgotten. I treat my bitches well as long as they behave themselves. Okay?"
"Okay. Thanks Chaz."
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