This is a work of gay fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely unintentional. This story's main themes are dominance, mind- control and reluctance. Please do not take this more seriously than it is intended.
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Chapter 1 - Travis
"DUDE!!! COME UP HERE!!! YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!!!"
My best friend Taylor, who is normally super chill, sounds as excited as a five-year-old on Christmas morning. He is upstairs, screaming at the top of his lungs for me to come join him.
I don't understand why he is this worked up. We just got to my place after baseball practice, and he seemed his normal laidback self when we got here. Of the two of us, I am the higher strung one, so this is pretty unusual. I was pretty set on grabbing a big ass glass of water. Instead, I decide to head upstairs, given that by the sound of Taylor's voice, there is apparently a dead body or at least a ghost that I need to see ASAP.
"DUDE!!!! You are not going to believe this! Hurry your ass up here. I am in Josh's room"
Now I am really confused. What is Taylor doing in that annoying little dweeb's room?
Josh van Hooser, son of Larry van Hooser, also known as Larry the Boozer, also known as Larry the Loser, also known as my dad's previous business partner, moved in with us roughly two months ago.
Josh's dad decided that he did not want to be Larry the Boozer any longer. After successfully completing 28 days in rehab, Larry signed up with one of those contractors that rips off our government somewhere in the Middle East. He signed up for a two-year commitment that will erase, as he put it, "the debt that has accumulated as a result of poor decisions I've made in the past four decades." My dad, always the helper, told Larry that Josh was welcome to stay with us for however long he needed to.
This move has had terrible consequences on the quality of my life.
Ever since my mom left us over a decade ago, I have had the house pretty much to myself. My dad works insane hours and travels all the time for his company. Even when he is here during the weekend, he spends more time out on the golf course than here in the house. And even when he is home, he basically stays in his sprawling bedroom suite, which is downstairs, giving me free reign and lots of privacy occupying the second floor.
I find Taylor sitting at Josh's desk, apparently reading a web page that he has pulled up on the screen. I give him my most intense "this better be fucking worth my time" look. He is beaming and is about as giddy as I have ever seen him.
As soon as I enter the room, he begins to talk.
"Ok, so remember how I told you I needed to run up to your room to grab your laptop?"
Yes, I remember. Taylor is asking me about something that happened literally minutes ago.
He continues.
"So I am on my way to your room, and as I walk past Josh's room, I notice that his laptop is open, and that the screen isn't locked. I can see even from the hall that there is some kind of an error message that is keeping his laptop from going into standby mode. Being the Good Samaritan that you know me to be, I decide to check on his error message, you know, so his computer won't overheat and shit?"
Hmmm. I don't know that I think of Taylor as a Good Samaritan, however, he is my best bud, so I am definitely not gonna argue with him.
He goes on.
"When I get to his laptop and click on the error message, I cannot help but notice his browser being open. I decide to take a tiny little peek at the browsing history. Would you like to guess what came up?"
Ok, so Taylor knows me better than anyone on this earth. He knows what I like, dislike, love and hate. He knows that playing a guessing game is not something I like to do. He also knows that he now has my undivided attention.
I take a stab.
"What did you see? All his porn is gay?"
Taylor laughs, and shakes his head no.
"Ha-ha, I knew you were gonna say that. Nope, guess again."
I am halfway annoyed with Taylor's guessing game, but I also know that he is doing this because he found something truly juicy.
"He found some kind of cult to join, meaning he is moving out by the end of the week?"
Taylor laughs and shakes his head.
"No dude. That's not a guess, that's wishful thinking."
I decide to humor him one more time.
"He found a secret medication that will help him grow taller than four feet?"
Taylor laughs out-loud.
Josh is definitely taller than four feet, but not by that much. He's right around 5'4" or 5'5". My dad and I are both 6'2", and Taylor is six feet tall himself, so yea, Josh definitely stands out in the height, or better said, lack of height department in our home.
"Damn dude, no, that's not what I saw, but that's a really close guess. You wanna try again?"
I do not and I decide to let Taylor know this as diplomatically as possible.
"I don't. I am ready for you to tell me what all this is about."
Taylor knows he needs to cut the crap, and he does. Like I said, he is a good dude. He gestures me to get closer to the screen.
"Dude, look at this. Josh has been all over the internet looking for a cure for MICRO DICK AND MICRO BALLS!"
Taylor stops and looks at me. His facial expression tells me that my next line should be either "NO FUCKING WAY" or "OH MY FUCKING GOD". Problem is I don't get it why this should matter to Taylor and me.
I mean, it's kind of funny actually that Josh's junk is micro sized. But why does my best bud assume that I wanna spend any time thinking about the size of my unwanted housemate's pea sized nuts?
Taylor breaks the silence. "Dude, do you not see what this means?"
I do not. Therefore, I don't say a word, I just look at him. I have never thought of or cared about Josh's dick or balls. Or their size. Or lack thereof. So no, I am definitely not seeing what this means.
Taylor continues.
"Remember the other day when we were talking about mind control and you said that you were pretty sure that there wasn't anyone in this town who you couldn't wrap around your finger with a good believable story?"
I do remember saying that. I am, and I say this with humility, a fucking Master in the art of deception, distraction, manipulation, etc. It's a gift, if I might say so myself. I don't have any idea what this has to do with Josh having an "innie" instead of an "outie" as far as his peepee goes.
I nod and Taylor continues. He seems relieved to see me coming back to a more animated state.
"Ok, and, how often have you and I talked about being tired of all these bitches in this shithole town that wanna be our girlfriends, but they don't wanna put out?"
Short answer to that question is "a lot."
Our town is currently in the throes of the worst fad in human history: Purity Pledges. Instead of teenagers doing what teenagers are meant to do, our dumb ass town is obsessed with preventing any and all premarital sex. As a result, healthy eighteen-year-olds like Taylor and me are not getting laid hardly at all.
Taylor continues.
"Ok, so look at this page that he was reading. It's all this semi-scientific snake oil bullshit about Human Growth Hormone and the effects that they have on the male body. Seems to me that our buddy Josh believes that he needs a steady supply of Human Growth Hormone running through his veins to see some growth in his micro sausage."
I don't think that Josh is our "buddy". Also, I have no clue where he is going with this.
Taylor continues.
"So, what if you convinced 'little' Josh (he pauses for dramatic effect and we both snicker) that the best source of Human Growth Hormone is human cum? As soon as he buys that, he will be searching for a reliable source of high quality jizz! You know anyone who can help him with that?"
I reply, and I sound more annoyed than I mean to. I am frustrated not seeing what is apparently so very clear to by best bud.
"So your big idea is for Josh to ingest our jizz so that his junk will become visible to the naked eye. How is this a good thing for you and me?"
Taylor's eyes twinkle and I can tell that I am finally going to hear the punchline.
"Dude. This will turn into a good thing for you and me the minute that you convince Josh that the only way to get our delicious and very therapeutic cum in his belly is to suck it right out of our cocks!"
Mic drop.
Total silence.
How did I not think of this?
This is brilliant and given my skills of persuasion, guaranteed to work.
I reply to Taylor with enthusiasm.
"Dude. This is why I keep you around! Your idea is brilliant. How did I not think of that myself???"
Taylor is grinning ear to ear, looking proud and a bit relieved. I guess he didn't feel 100% confident that I would embrace his proposal.
"Ok, let's go to my room and put pen to paper; I say we are gonna need beer, weed and obviously pizza. We have a lot of work to do. We can't just spring this upon him over breakfast. We gotta plan this shit out!"
Taylor nods in agreement as we both get up to leave Josh's room. I am in full planning mode. This is the best thing that has happened to Taylor and me in a really long time.
"Why don't you run down to the kitchen and grab us a couple of beers. I will get the bong ready, and yea, I will use that good shit we got last week. There is no time to lose. Tonight, you and I will produce the ultimate 'how to brainwash your unwanted house guest into your personal cock sucker' Master Plan."
Taylor howls with laughter and high fives me on his way to the stairs. I walk to my room feeling excited about the task at hand. This is the best thing that has happened to me in a long time.
This plot cannot fail. Josh needs our jizz. We need to get blown. It's a win-win! Give it a week or two, and Taylor and I will have our very own daily cock-sucking service set up!