Okay, guys, I appreciate the comments I have gotten, both positive and negative. Nice to know there are others like me with this fantasy. Oddly, most of you said you liked the pace I was setting, and that the delay to sex felt more realistic -- so I am going to go with the flow of the story as it comes, and the sex is gonna happen when it happens. Gonna have Matt establish his control, then the sex, but the humiliation most of ya want will still happen, because that is a key to his control. So probably will be towards end of the next chapter or maybe beginning of fourth one before they do any fucking. Sorry to those of ya just wanting a quick jerk off -- gonna go with the audience ;-)
Again, feel free to shoot me emails to DanB31210@yahoo.com about your thoughts and suggestions and critiques -- but flames will be deleted. And now, on with the show...
I washed up the dishes and tidied the kitchen, then went to find Matt. He was in the den, watching a movie (I never could tell the difference in the movies kids watched these days -- everything just blew up to the tune of some loud rock song). He was sitting with one leg on the sofa and the other down the side so his foot was on the floor. He had taken off his shirt, but still had on his track pants. I took a second to admire the physique of the guy -- he was amazingly well muscled, with defined abs even relaxed, and for some reason I watched as he breathed, imagining the feel of the ridges and valleys between his six pack stomach. He was mostly smooth, though there was a small patch of hair between his pecs, and a line running down the bottom of his belly leading that led to down below, but the view of that was blocked by the track pants. His feet were bare, and for some reason, I stared at his foot on the floor, noticing the curve of it, and that even the top of his foot was tanned -- most people who are into sports have a stark tan line around the ankle or a little higher.
My reverie was broken as Matt, snapped his fingers and pointed to the spot in front of him. I blushed, ashamed of myself for having thought about him that way, but I still moved to stand in front of him. He looked past me at first, still watching the tv, until he abruptly sat up, so both feet were on the floor. "Okay, time for you to learn how to please me beyond doing my cooking and cleaning -- kneel down in front of me, boy."
At the word `boy' I started -- if anything he was the boy, half my age and all!!! But when I started to open my mouth, all Matt did was shoot his hand out and grab my crotch, his grip so tight on my nuts it made me whimper instantly, and I sank to my knees. He let go of them as I dropped, and instead grabbed me by the hair and used that as a handle to push my down. "When I give an order, you stupid fucking bitch-boy, I expect it to be obeyed INSTANTLY -- got it?" As he finished, he slapped me lightly across the face, just hard enough to sting and get my attention, but not enough to leave a mark.
I swallowed, and looked down, which was the wrong thing to do -- again I got slapped, this time backhand across the face, almost knocking me backward. "I asked a question, you such a stupid cunt you cannot answer me?" I steadied myself, then answered "Yeah, Matt, I understand...."
Again, the words were obviously wrong, as Matt slapped me twice more across the face. "No, no -- you are the fucking pussy here, you address me as Sir. Your stupid ass is the one on the DVD abusing me -- an underage, unwilling kid -- for sex. Now you pay the price -- which is you lose the life ya have." As he said this, he pulled me around and back into the couch, so I was sitting on the floor with my back against the cushion, and his left leg draped over my shoulder. "Okay, boy -- massage my feet -- and you better do it good or I'll really whip ya, got it?"
I nodded, but luckily I recalled the lesson from a brief moment before and said "Yessir" before I pulled his foot up into my hands. I worked the muscles, trying to release stress and such, and I am told I give great massages, so I was sure I would do a good job for him. When he let out a low sigh, something inside me felt good at making him feel good.
But my mind raced at the circumstances -- I had been enslaved in my own home, by a 17yo kid, and I was not fighting back. What the hell was wrong with me? And worse -- I was fucking hard again!!! I mean, I was not attracted to him that way, but something about the situation -- about being turned into a submissive little bitch -- made my dick hard. I prayed he did not notice, but I knew he could see the growing tent in my pants.
After a few minutes, he pulled his other leg up and without a word, I took that foot in my hands and worked on it. But it was not too long before he got bored with this, and began to rub the other foot across my groin, feeling my hardon. He did not say anything, which was even worse. Instead he just began to press harder on it, moving his foot up and down the mound, which only made it worse, of course. I began leaking pre-cum just from the friction, and slowly a spot appeared, showing my new shame. I turned beet red as I realized it was obvious.
When I started to slow down on the massage, however, he took his foot off me and slapped the back of my head. "See, you stupid cunt, when I do nice things for you, you fuck it up by letting me down. Not gonna let that go." As he said this he shoved me forward, so I ended up halfway over the coffee table, trying to get up. But Matt had other ideas -- his hand shoved me back down, and at the same time pushed me further ahead, so I was now bent over the table, my knees on the floor and my arms splayed out across it.
As he did this, he used his other hand to reach around me and undo my belt, and began pulling it out of the loops. "See, like any bad little boy, you have to be punished. And we both know what it takes to get thru to stubborn assholes, right?" As he said that, I heard the belt snap, as he doubled it over and popped it.
I started to push up off the table, thinking this had gone more then far enough. "Okay Matt... sir... you can't do this to..." My words were cut off as the belt whistled thru the air and landed hard on my ass. I yelped and fell back to the table. Matt used the moment to put his hand on the nape of my neck, and pressed down -- I was trapped.
The belt landed over and over, until I was crying, like a baby. The whole time, two thoughts were running thru my head: one, what the hell could I do to stop this maniac who was whipping my ass raw, and two, why the hell was my dick so fucking hard -- each blow made me jerk against the table, and everytime I was reminded that at least that part of me loved what it was feeling.
After several minutes -- I had stopped counting the number of blows after the fifth one tore me up -- Matt let up on my neck and sat back down on the couch. I slowly managed to collect myself, and moved to stand up. But when I was halfway there, he snapped his fingers and pointed down at his feet. Still sobbing, I sank back down to my knees in front of him.
"Okay fucker, now you have a bit of a clue that I will not be disrespected, not by a little faggot shit like you. I would say I hated doing that to ya, but truth is, I loved it. So anytime... ANYTIME... you wanna give me another excuse to beat the hell out of ya, feel free. And we both know that you like it -- " his foot pressed hard on my cock, still rock solid as a testament to my shame -- "so do not try and give me any fuckin' bullshit about it."
He leaned down in my face, perfectly calm and composed compared to my still sniffling self. "Now, time for me to see what that fucking pretty mouth of yours can do." He stood up and pulled off his pants, and again I was staring at his naked body. He spent a lot of time in the gym as well as in sports, and I swear he looked just like one of the guys you see on men's fitness mags -- he even looked the age, you know young enough to make us want to be them but not like he was jailbait (ironic, huh?). He had been using tanning beds, so even now in November he had a nice healthy looking tan, broken only where he wore shorts. His dick was hanging down, and I had to admit god had blessed this kid with a healthy dose of manhood -- hard, I bet it would have made my own dick look ... well, not small but not large.
He got my attention away from his body with a snap of his fingers on my right ear. He laughed as he said, "Fucking awesome, already have you lusting after my bod, huh, boy? See, I pegged you for a fag when I first realized you were watching me do the lawn work. All ya needed was a tough guy to bring it out, huh?" He flexed as he said that, and goddammit, my dick jumped as I watched his muscles move.
He sat back down, his legs spread, and pointed to his feet. "Start with them, bet they will taste good. But hey, even if they don't -- you are gonna take care of `em." He watched my face, to see when... not if, WHEN... I would give in to him.
It took about ten seconds, but when his hand began to pick up the belt again, I decided I could not handle another beating, and that licking his feet would not be THAT bad, right? Besides, that was as far as it was going to go... I mean, he might like sex with guys, but would not make me do it... would he?
The small voice in the back of my head told me not to count on it...
DanB31210@yahoo.com