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 Six
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." -----
I didn't feel hungry after consuming all that snotty ice cream Tim fed me, but the boys were hungry, so I ordered some pizzas for them. They wolfed the food down in the living room, watching football and joking. When they were done, I collected the empty boxes and crumpled napkins and took them to the trash bin. I didn't have anything better to do, so I returned to the living room to watch TV, although I'm not really interested in sports. Luke was lying on the sofa and the two recliners were occupied by Chaz and Danny, so I sat down on the floor in front of Chaz.
After a while he nudged my shoulder with the sole of his shoe.
"Take my shoes off."
I turned around and unlaced his grimy Chucks. I pulled them off his feet and placed them neatly beside his chair.
"Socks."
I peeled his scuffed-white no-show socks off and folded them of the floor next to his shoes. Chaz seemed to concentrate in football again, but then he nudged my shoulder again.
"You know dude, you're kinda okay guy for a fag."
Chaz was being nice to me! I looked up.
"Thanks, Chaz!"
He grinned back.
"You're welcome, faggot."
He leaned down to examine his toes, picking off sock fluff.
"Looks like my toenails need clipping."
He seemed to be speaking to himself, so I didn't react. He kicked my back lightly.
"Bitch?"
"Oh, sorry."
I saw Luke and Danny exchange amused looks.
"Pay attention."
I got up and returned with nail clippers. I sat down at Chaz's feet and clipped carefully a tiny bit of nail off his big toe. It dawned to me very soon that clipping another person's nails isn't easy. I knew cutting Chaz's skin would bring unpleasant consequences to me, so I turned around and lifted his right foot on my thigh to get a better position. It was easier this way and I was soon able to get on with my task – and his bare foot on my thigh felt nice.
Chaz started to chat with the guys about chicks and sports and cars and shit while I clipped his nails. When I was done with his right foot, I moved it gently back to the floor, but Chaz lifted it up and placed it on my shoulder, letting it rest there while I serviced the other one. After a while he interrupted the chat and rubbed my cheek with his foot.
"Got a name, dude?"
"Yeah, sure. I'm Rob."
He laughed.
"Bob? That's a fucking stupid name."
"Umm no, it's Rob. My name is Rob, Chaz."
Chaz rubbed my cheek again with his foot.
"You look more like Bob to me. What do you think, guys?"
"Bob," Danny said without moving his gaze from the TV.
"He's definitely a Bob," Luke confirmed.
And so I became Bob. From then on, when one of the guys wanted something, he just yelled "Bob!" to get service. And they always got what they wanted, of course. I cooked for them, did the dishes, washed their clothes, made their beds and cleaned the bathroom after them. It was hard work, but I didn't complain. The arrangement seemed natural.
I paid special attention to Chaz's needs – partly because I had pledged to be his bitch and partly because I was still scared of him. But he was not an easy guy to please. He could be all smiles, joking with me, ruffling my hair and calling me "good boy". And in the next instance he would be in a sour mood and scold me for some scanty reason or another. He was especially picky about the bathroom. If the toilet wasn't sparkling clean when he wanted to use it, he would yell at me and tell me what a fucking lazy bitch I was.
After one particularly nasty put-down I decided to show him that I was really committed to please him, so that he might stay off my case for a while. I woke up early in the next morning to make him a special breakfast. I knew he would probably sleep late as usual, but I would be ready when he wakes up. My mom had taught me how to bake bread when I was a kid, and I had developed my skills a lot since then. I was particularly proud of my croissants. Even Janet admitted grudgingly that they were really good.
At ten thirty I knocked on the living room door gently.
"Chaz? You awake? I could bring you breakfast if you want."
After a while a sleepy voice answered me.
"Whatever."
I set to work in the kitchen. I had things well prepared, and the oven was already hot, just waiting for the croissants. While they were baking, I boiled two eggs – four minutes, just the way he liked them – and filled a container with freshly brewed coffee. What else? Orange juice, of course. I loaded everything on a large tray, knocked on the door with my elbow and entered Chaz's temporary quarters. He was still sleeping on the couch; lying on his stomach, sheets covering his lower body, his straight black hair sprawled on the pillow. I placed the tray on the table and paused for a while to admire his strong shoulders and wiry back muscles.
"Do you want me to pour your coffee now?"
"Yeah," he grunted.
The smell of fresh coffee seemed to wake him up. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.
"Breakfast in bed. Not bad."
I smiled. This was starting well.
"Yeah. And look what I made for you..."
He looked at the croissants on the tray and poked one with his finger.
"What the fuck is this?"
"It's a fresh croissant Chaz, straight from the oven. I made it just for you."
He poked it again. This time his finger made a hole in the bread.
"It looks like fag food. I don't want it."
"But Chaz, you gotta taste it, it's really..."
He picked up the croissant and threw it at my face.
"I said I don't want it. Go make me toast," he snapped.
I retreated to the kitchen, disheartened. My plan had failed miserably. I cursed myself for offering such fancy food to a guy like Chaz. Now he was pissed with me again. I toasted two slices of bread and offered them to him on a plate with some strawberry marmalade.
"Here you are, Chaz. Sorry about my mistake."
"Just don't do it again," he grunted and took the plate.
In the afternoon I went upstairs to make Luke's and Danny's beds. I found Chaz in front of Janet's bedroom door. He yanked the knob, but it was locked, as always when she was out.
"What's behind this door?"
"Oh, it's just my stepsister's bedroom. It's locked and off-limits."
"Nothing's off-limits for Chaz," he said, and took a Leatherman tool from the back pocket of his jeans. It's a miracle how some guys can store loads of stuff in the pockets of their skinny pants.
It took him about two seconds to unlock the door. He stepped inside and marveled at the great four-poster bed with a silver canopy. He peeked into the bathroom.
"Holy fuck! All marble."
He turned to me, frowning.
"Why the fuck didn't you tell me about this. I'm moving in right away."
"Please Chaz. You can't, it's..."
"Shut up bitch. One more word and I'll slap you in the face. Go get my stuff."
I gathered Chaz's belongings and carried them to Janet's room. I found him already sprawled on Janet's bed, his Chucks resting on the white bedspread.
"Oh fuck. This feels so good. I'll have my breakfasts right here from now on."
There was nothing I could do to make him change his mind, but he seemed to be in a good mood now, so I tried to make some good of the new circumstances.
"Chaz, I guess can I sleep on the couch again, now that you moved in here?"
He chuckled.
"Sorry dude. We are going to have a guest over this weekend."
A guest? This weekend? It was Friday afternoon, so his friend was probably arriving in a few hours. That didn't sound good at all. Things were completely out of my control already, and the idea of having one of Chaz's youth delinquent friends in the house was scary. But I knew it was a waste of time to argue with him.
"Oh. Okay then," I just said and started to fold his t-shirts on the shelf.
"I'm gonna take a nap now," he said and turned his back to me.
I was busy most of the day cleaning the house, ironing the boys' clothes and making lunch. Then it was time for me and Danny to drive to the supermarket for some serious weekend shopping. There would be one more hungry mouth to feed, so I had to dig into my savings account again to pay for the weekend rations of four guys and myself. It's not cheap – any parent of teenage boys (and yours truly) can tell you that.
It was already dark when we got back. I unloaded the car and decided to take a shower. Whoever was coming, I was going to meet him fresh and clean like a good host.
I had just gotten myself into a clean set of gear when the doorbell rang. I went to the door, took a deep breath and made myself ready to face Chaz's fellow criminal.
I opened the door.
"Hello faggot! Happy to see me again?" Tim asked with a wide grin on his pretty face.
The commotion brought Chaz quickly to the door. The guys bumped their fists and exchanged the customary bro-hugs. Chaz snapped his fingers at me.
"Bob, what the fuck are you standing there, take Tim's jacket and backpack."
Luke and Danny came downstairs too to meet the new guy.
"Hi, I'm Luke and this is my bro Danny. You must be Tim. Chaz has told me quite a lot about you," he chuckled and extended his hand.
"Thanks for inviting me guys," Tim beamed.
"Don't mention it. Now that your fifteen, we're going to introduce you to some serious partying. And you'll get your birthday present tomorrow," Chaz said.
After the formalities were over, the boys enjoyed some cold beers (bought by me, three bucks a piece at the back door of the gas station) while I worked the grill. The guys were served sumptuous beef burgers with baked potatoes and salad.
After the dinner the boys gathered in the living room to begin their party. I joined them after clearing the dinner table. I knew well that I wasn't really part of the crowd, but I had nothing else to do, and nobody seemed to object. And besides, observing a bunch of hunky boys was always fascinating – watching their unrestrained behavior, listening to their rude jokes and admiring the effortless movements of their lean bodies; marveling the way they shamelessly scratched their balls and arranged their packages in their jeans in front of everyone. You know, guy life.
Chaz took out his weed he had bought with Jason's help and rolled a joint. Soon the joint was being passed from one guy to another and the air in the living room was thick from smoke. I hated the idea of the guys smoking in our house, but I didn't try to oppose. They wouldn't' t have cared about my opinion anyway.
Soon the boys were snickering and giggling, telling brainless jokes that made them laugh hysterically. The joint was offered to me too, but I politely refused. At that time I hadn't even had a drink in my life and I hated smoking.
Tim looked at me from time to time, grinning. I knew he was planning something for me. I didn't need to wait very long to find out what that was.
"Chaz, can I ask you a favor? I'd like Bob to help me with something."
Chaz laughed.
"Sure, Tim. You're the birthday boy."
"Thanks, Chaz!"
"Watch this guys," Chaz whispered to Luke and Danny – so loud I could hear it.
Tim looked at me with an evil smile on his angelic face for a long time, enjoying my apprehension. Finally he spoke.
"Dude. My feet are sore from playing soccer. I need a foot rub," he said, clasping his hands behind his head and stretching his legs wide. He was wearing cuffed skinny jeans that hugged his lean thighs and calves very closely.
The guys snickered.
I got up, walked slowly over and looked at Tim's red-and-white Nike hi-tops.
"Well, eh, do you want me to take your shoes off?"
He laughed.
"How stupid can a guy be? How the fuck are you supposed to give me a foot rub with my shoes on?"
The guys found his comment hilarious.
I kneeled at Tim's feet and unlaced his shoes. I tried to pull one of them off, but it was still too tight. He pulled his leg back and placed it in my lap.
"Undo the laces properly, fag-boy."
I loosened and loosened the laces until I managed to get both shoes off Tim's feet. Then I started to rub his feet through his moist and warm no-show socks. He enjoyed the feeling of having an older boy serving him for a good while. But he wouldn't stop there, of course.
"Dude."
I looked up to the younger boy's grinning face.
"That feels nice. And you like it too, rubbing my feet, don't you?"
I didn't answer him, but he didn't drop the subject.
"Answer me, dude. You love giving a foot rub to a kid two years younger than you, don't you? And look at me."
I raised my gaze to meet Tim's blue eyes. There was no reason to lie to these guys; they knew me all too well by now. And Tim's smile and his warm foot in my hands and the recollection of him taunting me in the ice cream parlor were already causing me a hard-on. I hoped I would be able to back off the situation without the boys noticing my boner.
"Well, yeah. I like it."
Tim laughed and rubbed the sole of his free foot on my face. His sock had a pretty strong odor of teenage feet constrained in sneakers for several hours.
"Hear that guys? The faggot loves rubbing a guy's sweaty feet. Can you believe this?"
Everybody laughed again and Tim enjoyed being in the center of the older boys' attention.
He turned to Chaz, pointing at me with his finger.
"Man, where did you find this bitch? "
Chaz gave him a paternal smile.
"You don't find bitches like that anywhere, Tim. You make them."
"Make them? How? I want one too."
Luke handed the joint to Chaz and he sucked it eagerly, holding the smoke in his lungs for a long time before exhaling slowly.
"Look Tim, how many guys are there in your school?"
Tim seemed to be counting in his stoned head.
"I dunno. Maybe six hundred."
"Six hundred? Okay, let's see. I'd say at least twenty of them are fags."
"Really? But how do I know who's a fag?"
"You gotta observe carefully, man. Pretty soon you'll notice some guy checking you out when you walk through the hallway. Watch him. In the locker room he'll look at you just a little bit too long. Tease him a bit. Flash him some skin and you'll see him staring at you and drooling. And then you look him right in the eyes and you both know he got busted. That's stage one."
Chaz sipped his beer and continued.
"Let him suffer for a few days; not knowing if you're gonna out him or not. Nothing seems to happen, so he gets gradually relieved and finally thinks you've just decided to let it go because you're such a nice guy. Then you go talk to him. Tell him you know he's a faggot and the whole school will find out. Well, no high school kid wants to be pegged as a fag, so he'll be so fucking scared, I tellya. He'll beg you and say that he'll do anything if you keep his secret. That's stage two."
The joint was passed to Chaz again and he sucked it eagerly. I could see he was totally high already. The weed seemed to have loosened any possible inhibitions he ever might have had, and he seemed to enjoy guiding a younger dude in the art of breaking in a guy.
"You tell him to meet you someplace safe; and when he comes, you really rub it in his face. And remember, you gotta make it as degrading as possible. I told my first bitch to meet me in the boys' locker room after everybody had gone home. The loser showed up in his fancy white pants. I dragged him to the toilet and told him to kneel down on the floor. The fucking floor was all covered with piss and spit and sweat, ha-ha! And the faggot went down on his knees. I made him crawl on the floor and beg me not to out him. He became a great bitch."
"And Tim, when a guy goes down on his knees in front of you and you look him in the eyes – you'll see he's got that certain look. You've broken him in now. That's stage three. He is your bitch from now on. You can make him carry your bags, give you his lunch money, do your chores, whatever you want."
"That's fucking cool. Thanks for telling me this, Chaz! Fuck, that Bennett guy has been checking me out..."
Chaz laughed.
"There you go, Tim. You'll know how to handle him, I'm sure. I saw you in the ice cream parlor."
Tim seemed flattered. He looked down at me.
"Enough."
I got up, holding my hands in front of my crotch to hide my hard-on. I cursed myself for choosing a pair of thin cotton shorts that were now stretched by my pulsing cock. And Tim saw it.
"Hey look guys, the fag's got a boner," he screamed.
"Show it to us, Bob!"
I just stood there with my hands in front of my crotch, hoping the guys would suddenly find something else to amuse themselves with. No hope.
Chaz got up, walked over and pulled my hands apart. Everybody laughed as they saw my tenting shorts.
"Yeah, the poor fag has had a hard day. He loves it when guys rough him up a bit. And now he is horny as fuck and needs to bust a nut. Get the fuck outta here and jerk off somewhere, Bob."
"Wait," Danny said.
Everybody looked at him expectantly.
A smug smile appeared on his handsome face.
"Why don't we let him do it here."
His suggestion was met with disgust.
"Nooo, I don't want to see a fag jacking off," Luke objected.
Danny giggled and everybody looked at him questioningly.
"You don't have to see it, Luke. He can shoot his load in his fucking pants without touching his little weenie."
"What? How?"
"I'll show you."
Danny gave me a stoned smile.
"Bob, I know you snatched my boxers. Go get them."
Oh no. I realized what he was planning.
"Please, Danny," I pleaded.
"Just do it."
"Danny..."
"Do as he says, Bob," Chaz said.
I dragged my feet to the basement and dug out Danny's white Armanis from their hiding place. I went back to the living room, squeezing the boxers in my hand. I wished the floor would open up and swallow me.
Danny saw the look on my face and smiled.
"Come on, Bob, be a sport. This is gonna be fun! Show us."
I held out his boxers in my hand, causing a roar of laughter.
"The poor faggot stole my fucking dirty underwear. You could've have asked for them, Bob!" Danny laughed.
When the boys had laughed enough for the moment, Danny gave me further instructions.
"Get down on the floor in front of me, Bob."
He stretched out his legs and I got down on my knees between them, facing his denim-clad crotch.
Danny smiled and stripped off his t-shirt slowly, looking at me all the time. He was never shy about showing his muscled torso. His broad shoulders, strong chest and tight sixpack were as impressive as always.
"Bob, look at me. Press my boxers on your face and take a deep breath. And keep watching me."
I did as ordered and pressed the white cloth on my face and filled my lungs. Danny's odor was several days old but still intoxicating – the smell of a healthy and virile young man. I could feel all eyes in the room fixed on me.
"Keep looking."
Danny smiled at me and flexed his biceps.
"Like what you see, faggot?" he asked and kissed his right bicep.
I didn't answer him, but I loved the sight in front of me a lot, of course. In spite of my humiliation I felt my cock stretch my pants painfully.
I was startled when I heard Luke's voice right behind me. He was crouching close to me so he could speak directly into my ear. His voice was soft but his words were powerful.
"Yeah, look at Danny real good, Bob. He's a real man, not a faggot like you. Real guys fuck girls, they don't get off by sniffing other guys' dirty underwear."
"Look at you now, Bob. We all knew you're a low-life little faggot, but this is something else, dude."
He paused to let his words really sink in.
"You're sniffing Danny's filthy boxers and breathing in his crotch sweat and piss. And the smell turns you on. That's fucking disgusting. You're a real pervert, aren't you?"
Danny stood up and moved right in front of me. I stared at his belt buckle, the waistband of his bright blue Calvins and the black love trail above it.
"That's me right here, faggot. Take a good look. And keep sniffing my boxers."
Luke spoke again.
"We all know you need to get off real bad, Bob. Just stop resisting and let your fag instincts loose. That's right, shoot your pathetic load of fag-cum into you panties. Go ahead, homo boy."
Luke's taunting and Danny's presence and the smell of his boxers sent me over the limit and I felt my cock shoot an ample load of warm cum into my underwear. My body was shaking; a loud moan escaped my mouth, but it was overwhelmed by the jeering and laughter of the boys around me. I looked at my crotch. My jizz had already leaked through the thin cotton and everybody was able to see how I had creamed my pants.
"No hands, I told you!" Danny boasted and pulled his t-shirt back on. He patted my cheek.
"Great show, Bob! You can keep the boxers, they're already soaked in your drool."
"Fuck, how low can a guy get? Jeez, I can smell his cum already. Somebody open the window, we need to get rid of this fag stink," Tim shouted.
Finally the laughter died down.
"Whoa! That was fun. Now, go clean yourself, Bob," Chaz concluded the show.
I retreated quickly into the relative privacy of our common bathroom. I stripped off my cum-soaked shorts, thinking about the humiliation I had just gone through. It had been cruel, and the boys had no right to treat me that way. But on the other hand, I had enjoyed it enormously; being taunted by that younger kid with long blond hair, boyishly pretty face and evil eyes; and being humiliated and degraded in the worst possible way in front of everyone gave me finally the most powerful orgasm of my young life. Life is strange, I thought to myself while washing my private parts in the sink.
I went to Danny's room to get clean underwear and shorts from my drawer. Suddenly I saw a reflection of car lights in the windows. It looked like a car had just entered our driveway. Strange. Who would want to visit us like that? I opened the window to take a closer look.
It was a taxi. The back door opened, and someone got out on wobbly legs. I didn't need a flashlight to recognize that figure. My stepsister Janet was back.
Want to read more? Then drop me a line or two: bencoolen1212@gmail.com