Disclaimer: The following is fictional account of explicit sexual activity between adult males. If this offensive to you or it is prohibited for you to read this material because of your age of community laws, please do not read further. This fictional account does use the names of some real persons. The characters based on these names have no basis in fact. The author has no knowledge of the sexual preference or orientation of the persons named as characters. In other words, this fictional account is pure fantasy, created solely for the private entertainment of the reader.
Longhorn Justice: Part 3 - Conclusion"
"So what's it going to be, Williams?" Will repeated. "Heads or tails? I wanna git this shit over with. I got me a real date tonight."
Brock eyed Chris's body lustfully, tugging urgently on his raging hard-on, turned on by Chris's submissive posture - on his knees on the bench, slumped forward with his head resting on the bench, his chest still heaving from struggling to regain his breath. "I don't know. . . . " he began, considering. "Chrissy seems pretty talented on both ends . . . . What was that shit you were telling Major about 'worshiping his body with your tongue'? I never had none of that shit done to me; I wanna try me some of that shit! Hmmm . . ." he considered holding his chin. "Where do we start? Where do we start? Well, shit! Let's start at the bottom and work our way up. Lick my feet, Chrissy. Lick my feet, suck my toes, and then you can work your way up." Brock put his heel on the bench, his foot up, toes wriggling enticingly. Chris twisted his head to the side, stuck out his tongue, and began to lap at the bottom of Brock's foot. It tasted pungent, the stale, musky odor of the locker room shower. "Oooh yeah!" Brock sighed. "That feels good! Lick it clean, Chrissy boy, lick that locker room funk from my feet. Suck it clean from each one of my toes. You tongue feels soooo good."
Chris lapped fervently, lavishing the soles of Brock's foot with caresses of his tongue. He was completely broken; he would do anything his teammates told him to do to get this ordeal over with, to not feel the searing pain of the paddle smacking his ass again. He worked his way up Brock's foot, lapping his tongue between the crevice of each toe, then sucking hungrily on each of Brock's toes. He was sucking loudly on Brock's big toe when Brock pulled it away. "Stop Chrissy, stop!" he teased. "You're so good you're going to make me cum, and I want this to last! Do my other foot." While he used a teasing voice, Brock stroked his rigid cock with rapidly raising enthusiasm. Will turned his head away, shaking it in disgust. Major watched the scene before him with increasing interest. Brock put his other foot on the bench, and Chris readily repeated his lavish worship of Brock's foot. He licked and sucked his way up the sole of Brock's foot, slavering each toe generously with his saliva, then sucking the toe like it was a cock, trying to milk their juices from within.
"Jesus, Chrissy!" Brock breathed lustfully. "Your soooo fucking good! Work your way up my leg. Suck and kiss your way up my leg." Brock turned and put his leg on the bench, so the back of his leg was to Chris's face. Chris licked Brock's ankle, swirling his tongue, working his way slowly up the calf. He sucked and slurped at the back his Brock's knees, then worked his way up his thigh lapping, sucking, and kissing every inch of the hairy, muscular thigh. He reached Brock's ass, and nibbled on the lose, fleshly skin. "Oh yeah, oh yeah!" Brock sighed, now pumping furiously on his raging hard-on. He leaned forward and thrust his ass backward, revealing his tightly pucker asshole. "Eat my ass Chrissy!" he commanded. "I wanna feel your hot tongue in my ass." Chris had never done such a thing before; he lapped tentatively at the base of Brock's crack. It was musky, masculine and something completely unlike he'd ever experienced. He lapped with increased urgency, licking his way up Brock's crack to his rosebud. He licked hungrily around the wrinkled entrance, instinctively pressing the tip of his tongue inside. "Oh yeah!" Brock breathed. "Stick that tongue in my ass. Do it! Do it man! I fucking love it!". Encouraged, Chris thrust his tongue in and out of Major's hole. "Oh yeah, you're good" Brock assured him. "Now suck it! Suck my hole really hard!" Chris sucked hungrily on Brock's hole. Brock pumped his cock furiously. Chris alternated between sucking hungrily on Brock's hole then thrusting his tongue in deeply. With his tongue embedded deeply, he nibbled on the assring. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" Brock cried out. He spun around and convulsed as his load sprayed out onto Chris's face and head.
"What the fuck are you doing Edwards!" Will screamed. "What the fuck are you doing shooting your load on Chrissy? That's gotta go INSIDE Chrissy!"
Brock turned to face his teammates, an embarrassed, sheepish expression on his face. "Sorry, fellas," he said apologetically. "Guess is got a little carried away there. Chrissy's really good with his tongue. But, it works. I humiliated Chrissy, and then he got me off."
"No, dumbshit!" Will scolded sternly. "It doesn't fucking 'work'. Rule Three: 'Each Administer of Justice shall individually humiliate the Receiver of the Justice, then violate him anally or orally, and ejaculate into that orifice'. In other words, dumbass, you gotta shoot in his mouth or ass. Now work up another load and shoot it INSIDE him. I wanna git the fuck outta here!"
"Oh" Brock began, "Sorry. I didn't realize they made the rules so . . . . damn technical. Well, I'm not fucking Superman" he said with a shrug. "I just shot a load. It's gonna take awhile for me to work up another load."
"I don't want to be here all fucking night!" Will complained loudly. "I got me a real date waiting for me. I want to get the fuck outta here!"
"This here a private party?" the deep voice boomed from behind them.
The three teammates spun around to see Mike Williams examining the scene before him. "You . . . you don't want to me here" Major told him, holding up his hand. "Longhorn Justice" he said simply.
"I see . . . . I see" Mike said, stroking his chin, eying Chris's spent, prostrate form, cum dripping from his face. "Well, that explains a few things." He looked Major squarely I the eyes. "Well, I knows and understand the rules. Noone'll ever hear shit from me."
The three teammates relaxed. "We're just about finished" Will explained. "Major and me done our deed. Brock here fucked up, and we gotta wait for him to do his part."
"I see," Mike began, eying Chris with increasing interest. "This here an all-white boy affair, or is there any chance a' me gittin' a piece a' dat?" he asked, nodding toward Chris.
"No, shit no, man" Major assured Mike. "Of course you're welcome to be here. We just never thought about asking you. We didn't think you'd be up for this shit."
"Well, I'm just as pissed at Chris as you are boys, for him blowing the game" Mike returned evenly. He rubbed the growing bulge in his crotch. "And, I never gits me 'nuff pussy to keep ol' Mikey Junior here happy. I'd have a go at ol' Chris, if you fellas have no 'jection."
"Hmmmm" Major considered, turning to his teammates. "Well, there is no rule against substituting players." He assured them. "Mike could take Brock's place . . . ."
"Done deal!" Will agreed enthusiastically. "You're the man, Mike!" he said, slapping Mike on the shoulder. "Come on fellas" he told his teammates. "Let's git dressed and git the hell outta here. Emy Lou's awaitin' for me." They dressed hurriedly, and made their way past Mike. "You'll love Chrissy's pussy" Will called out over his shoulder. "He's got one hell of a hungry hole - IF you don't mind sloppy seconds" he said with a laugh. "Just be sure to untie him and turn him loose when you're done using him. Wouldn't want the janitor to find him in the morning - he might have a go at him, too."
Mike waited until the steps of the three disappeared into silence. He walked behind Chris, examining his ass. The cheeks were a patchwork of angry red welts. Yet the dusting of fine curly blonde hair, the full roundness of his ass was so familiar. 'It has to be' . . . Mike's mind raced. 'It had to be him . . . . . but, it can't be'. Chris stirred below him. "Come on, Mike" Chris groaned. "Let's get this over with. Go ahead. Fuck me. Ride me like a whore." Mike shook his head, still disbelieving. The same ass . . . the same words 'ride me like a whore'.
"That WUZ you!" Mike said incredulously. "That wus you last night in the video both, wasn't it?"
Chris clenched his eyes shut tightly, fighting back the tears. What else did he have to lose? he reasoned. "Yeah Mike" he began, "That was me in that booth last night. It was me you fucked last night."
Mike shook his head slowly. "What the fuck were you doing in a place like that, Chris?" he scolded gently.
"What the fuck do you think I was doing there?" Chris retorted. "I was looking to get exactly what you gave me - a good, solid fucking. Do I need to spell it out for you? I'm queer, Mike. I'm queer! A goddamn fag. A fucking h-mo! What the fuck were YOU doing in a place like that?" Ignoring the question, Mike reached down and began to untie the rope binding Chris's legs to the bench. Freeing them, he pulled Chris to a sitting position. He sat down next to Chris, and pulled him to him, Chris's head pressed firmly into his chest. Chris began to softly sob. "Well, now you know, Mike. I guess I'll never play football again" he sobbed. "Guess I'll have to quit the university."
"Why you say that?" Mike asked softly. Chris pulled his head away, looking Mike in the eyes, his teary eyes holding an expression of surprise.
"I just told you I'm gay. And once Major, Will and Brock spread the word of what they made me do, I'll never be able to play football again. I'll never be able to look at anyone on campus in the eye again."
"You don't need to worry about dem' boys" Mike assured him. "They'll never breath a word to anyone 'bout what went on here today. 'Rule Four: Should any Administer Of Justice ever reveal any of the details of a Longhorn Justice, that person shall become the next Receiver of Justice, and shall have the same punishment administered to him'. I can tell you none of dem boys want any part of what they done to you" Mike laughed. "They'll never say shit to no one. And" he continued, "What's between you and me stays between you and me."
Chris looked up at Mike, his eyes full of gratitude. He wanted to kiss Mike, but resisted the urge. "You asked what I was doing in that place last night" Mike carefully began. "Well, I was looking for a fella . . . . a fella to git me off, the way you did. It was the first time I ever went there . . . . it was the first time I ever worked the courage to go there. You see, the first time I ever got my rocks off wuz with a fella, when I was thirteen. Dis white boy begged me to show him my dick. I did, and then he sucked me off. I liked it, and he sucked me off plenty of times after dat. I got my first taste of girl pussy when I was fourteen. I liked dat, too. Had me plenty of girl pussy ever since. But, I always had me a little boy pussy on the side. Way I figured it, the mo' the merrier" he chuckled. "But . . . . he began slowly, "to tell you the truth . . . . . I've kinda been thinking lately I like the fellas a little better. A little more fire to it when I'm with a fella. Know what I mean?" he asked, his eyes apprehensive.
Chris smiled broadly. "I kind of know what you mean" he admitted. "But, for me here's no fire at all with women. And, nothing but fire when I'm with a guy." He smiled at Mike. "And, you really got my fire going last night!"
Mike returned the smile. "Yeah. That wuz some funky shit we did last night, wasn't it?"
"Funky shit?" Chris repeated. "It was the best! It the best I've ever had! I kept getting a hard-on during the game when I looked at you, and thought about what you said about making me your bitch, your steady bitch."
Mike looked into Chris's eyes carefully, scrutinizing. "Yeah? You think you could ever do something like that?"
"What?" Chris questioned. "Be your bitch?"
"Yeah," Mike nodded, "Be my . . . regular . . . steady . . . fella."
"In a flash!" Chris responded, his eyes beaming and moistening again with tears. Holding Chris's gaze steadily, Mike lowered his head and kissed Chris gently on his lips. Chris reached his arms around Mike, holding him tightly, and returned the kiss passionately.
"Come on" Mike said softly when they finally broke their kiss. "Let's git you dressed and git out of here."
"Whaat?" Chris questioned in surprise. "You don't want to fuck?"
Mike kissed Chris again. "If you're going to be my fella," he began, "Let's git one thing straight: I'll always be up for fucking you. But, I think 'nuff has gone on in his locker room today. Let's git you home. I want to take you home, to my place. We'll git you cleaned up, check you out, make sure you're OK. Maybe we'll grab us a couple a beers, order a pizza, catch the Oregon game on TV. Then," he said with a evil glint, "I'm gonna fuck you all night long." Chris scrambled to get dressed.
So, I hear Coach Brown has named Major as starting Quarterback for the Holiday Bowl. Guess the pressure's on him, now. He knows what'll happen if he fucks up bad. If he does fuck up, Chris will be ready. Chris has been perfect in practice, every pass right on target. He doesn't seem distracted any more. In fact, he looks pretty damn confident, pretty damn happy and satisfied with himself. He has a kind of glow on his face. I've never seem Mike happier, either. Guess he finally has enough pussy to keep ol' Mikey Junior happy. The Major and Brock seem to spending a lot more time with each other, too. All's well that ends well.
I guess there's justice after all - Longhorn Justice! I just hope they never figure out it was me that told you this story. Rule Five: 'Should any member of the Longhorn team make publish the details of a Longhorn Justice, he shall be punished with SIX Administers of Justice' . . . . . .