Terry Takes It by Robert Halstead
CHAPTER ONE
Junior year. The night I turned to 21 I went to the club everyone was talking about. It was called "Hunt." How blunt, eh? I already knew how bent I was. Three dudes had all together turned me into the best cocksucker on campus. Drew's actually an admissions counselor I met when I was cruising Pandle Park. He's 24 and has an apartment with his friend Greg. I like sucking Greg's dick better than Drew's because Greg coaches me, telling me exactly how I'm to move my mouth and tongue to give him maximum pleasure. He calls me "faggot cocksucker" a lot and for some reason that really gets me hard. The third guy is Patrick. He's a junior like me and knows Drew and Greg so that connection got made quickly enough.
Patrick is, let's say, the most demanding of the three. A tough Irish kid but thank God he's cut because most Irish guys aren't and I can't deal with that, at least not yet.. Patrick has a single in our dorm so that's very convenient. He's a lot like Greg. He loves to order me around. Suck this, kiss that, lick this, eat that and calls me faggot or slut most of the time—quietly enough so no one else on our floor can hear him. One night we were in his room just talking. He told me he wants me naked when I suck his dick from then on. I stand up and start stripping. I don't remember what provoked it but all of a sudden Patrick slaps me across the face, not too hard, but hey, what the fuck?!!!
"Shit, I'm sorry, dude," he says and then puts his palm to my face where he slapped me and tries to soothe it. "I couldn't help it. It's just that you've got a fucking slappable face. Did you parents ever slap you around, or your brothers or anyone in school? I mean, your face just fucking begs for it. No offense. Just saying." He starts patting my face and starts teasing me and I'm eating it up!
"Like that, little Terry, like getting patted like a sweet little puppy?" and he keeps it up and his voice sounds so fucking sexy that I'm actually responding to it. "My favorite cocksucker needs to be told how to service me and he does just what I tell him to like a good boy, or else, he knows he'll get punished!" And he hauls off and gives me a good solid slap. And this time I take it. What the fuck?
Right away he soothes me again. "Maybe you can get over here and get my dick in your mouth, faggot, and I'll slap you nice while you're blowing me. Come on, right now, Terry. Down on your knees." He pulls his jeans and boxers halfway down. He's already hard. "Oh look, Terry boy, my dick got hard cause I was slapping you. Come make it feel good, cocksucker, and I'll make your face feel good at the same time."
Shit, I do what he wants. Before long he's holding the back of my head and working my mouth over his dick just the way he likes it. His other hand is on my face and he slaps it lightly every once in a while. "Yeah, faggot, just like that. We'll add getting slapped to the list of things I like doing with you. But now, just fucking jerk me off with that fag mouth. Make it tight. There, that's it, boy. SLAP See, Terry, what I mean? That face was made to be slapped by better men than you." And with that he cries out and fills my mouth with his bland Irish cum. "You fucking spill a drop of that and I'll fucking slap you from one end of this dorm to the other, faggot!"
I swallow it as fast as I possibly can without tasting it. I'm still having trouble swallowing cum now but they all insist on it. These are the first guys I could ever get naked with when I suck them, and it's driving me out of my mind how turned on I am. "You realize you're what they call a sub, don't you? Sub stands for submissive," Patrick tells me. "One of these days you're gonna fucking lick my feet clean too, faggot. Soon, boy. soon. Then I'll start using my strap on you instead of just my hands. Turn you into a real faggot slaveboy."
That was too much too soon for me. After that I backed off from Patrick as much as I could. Fortunately, he didn't make a stink about it. Maybe he knew he had freaked me out just too much too soon.
I lost touch with him after we graduated, unfortunately. I did manage to "grow" as a slave to the point where I would have eagerly offered myself to Patrick, telling him he could decide how he wanted to train me to be what he wanted. So anyway, that's where I am now. That's how much I want it. Now I can admit that I need it, even.
Drew had been talking about taking me to the "Hunt" as soon as I'm legal. It just happens to turn out that my birthday falls on a Friday night. Perfect. Patrick is pissed because he's only 19. He made me let him spank my ass that afternoon, 21 smacks for my 21st birthday. I thought it was just in fun, but goddam, he hauled out and thrashed the fuck out of me. By the time he hit 21 I had tears in my eyes. Then he pushed me off his lap to the floor and ordered me to suck his cock before he gives me another 21. After it's over and I'm getting myself together he wishes me luck. "I figured I'd get you in the right mood. Now don't you dare fucking jerk off before you get there. Keep yourself real horny and real submissive, just the way I like you. You'll be a big hit there, I'm sure, faggot." And then to drive the point home, he hauls off and slaps my face so hard that his handprint is still on my cheek when we get to the Hunt that night. Fortunately it was so dark in there that nobody could see it.
You know something, I just love the way Patrick talks to me, even if sometimes he gets carried away. It's all a learning experience for a novice slaveboy like me!
Drew took me out the week before to pick out boots and some cheap black t-shirts. I wore one of those with my jeans and boots and nothing but a jockstrap on underneath the jeans. I'd been doing that since I was in high school. I always liked the feel of the denim on my bare ass. It will feel especially good tonight after Patrick had spanked me so hard. For some reason the right kind of pain can make me feel good all over. Drew told me that means that in addition to being a submissive, I'm also a masochist. "What do you get when you put those two things together, Terry?" He asked me.
"I don't know, Drew. What?"
"You get someone who's meant to be a slave." And he nodded at me. "You'll find out Friday night."
So on Friday night Drew and I smoke a couple joints before we head on out the club. He asked me if I ever got fucked before. Not yet, was my reply. Ha, ha. "You offering to be the first?" He said he thinks Patrick should be the first guy to fuck me after he spanks my ass the way he did this afternoon. Patrick already told him. Fuck. I have no privacy when it comes to these guys. Always like a slave on display. Perfect! And I would rather that Greg be the first to spank me. Greg will be gentle. All Patrick would do is outright rape me, never giving a damn about how much he's hurting me. No way! Not gonna make myself vulnerable to that! Maybe I'm meant to be a slave. Okay. SAFE and SANE, dudes. That doesn't describe Patrick lately.
The Hunt is down by the docks. It's in the basement of some warehouse and damn, is it huge! Poor lighting, probably for effect. Lots of little alcoves and little rooms with benches but no door. Right away when we walk in I hear some dude getting spanked. Weird music playing. Lots of hot men. I'm probably the youngest here. Fuck, I'm DEFINITELY the youngest here, just on my 21st birthday. The guy at the door says he's gonna give me a birthday spanking as soon as he's on break. "Already got one," I told him. "Nah, kid. Here you'll get 21 of them!" Uh-oh.
Drew brings a friend of his over to meet me. Vincent. Some kind of Asian. "Pull up your shirt. Show him your nipples," Drew tells me and I'm just stoned enough to do it. Right away this guy takes one of them in his fingers and looks into my eyes. "Happy birthday, baby fag," he says to me. "Virgin nipples, aren't they?" I nod. The pressure in his fingers increases almost imperceptibly but I know it's there. He takes something out of his pocket. Shit, it's a fucking paper clip on a string! He hooks it over my nipple. It bites just a little. But then he starts toying with the string then puts a hand on my shoulder and presses, so I kneel down looking up at him. He keeps working the string and holy shit, I'm hurting in a weird sort of way and he's actually getting me to move around on my knees, then on all fours, controlling me with that fucking string.
And as I'm crawling around he spits on me. All of a sudden there's a hard cock poking at my face. I put my mouth around it and start toying with its crown while Japan boy is still making me crazy with that fucking paper clip. I've heard that Japanese Doms are experts at giving pain to subs and slaves. I guess I just had a little taste of it.
Then it's all over and I'm still kneeling there alone feeling like I'm in some kind of trance. I get myself back up on my feet somehow. I see a couch against a wall in a larger one of those alcoves. I go sit down and take a minute to catch my breath. The music is haunting me and I realize that it's perfect. Damn, I'm feeling nice. Glad I'm here now. Just those little tastes of pain have endorphins flowing through my system along with the pot.
This guy he comes over to me, his name is Rusty, I find out later. He's holding a set of handcuffs. He shows them to me and right away I know he wants put them on my wrists. They both fascinate and frighten me. He holds them open and motions towards my wrist. Um, no, I don't think so. But damn, my blood is pounding all over.
Nothing. He stands there watching me. He opens one of the cuffs and then begins to close it very slowly. There's a click. It's hypnotic. My eyes open wide and my blood starts pounding even more
The second click sounds so much louder than the first and its effect is all the greater. Damn, I feel like I should fall to the ground and kiss His boots, maybe even lick them. But I don't think that's what he's after right now. I think he's after my fucking wrists.
"Rusty," he says. "Terry," I answer. "Boy," he says. Huh? "He's naming you," says Drew, who suddenly appears out of nowhere. "'His name is Rusty. You're boy." I just shrug. Drew takes Rusty aside. They leave me alone. What the fuck is happening? Rusty comes back. "Birthday Boy" he says. Suddenly I'm feeling submissive. I nod, shyly.
"Little boy for you, Sir?" I ask and then wonder where the fuck those words just came from.
"I want more than that from you, boy," he says, and then walks away again. I'm thinking that he can have whatever he wants from me. I decide to get up and walk around, check out some of the things that are going on. The music just barely covers the sounds of all sorts of sordid acts taking place. Lots of slapping and grunting.
I see a couple bare-chested guys with dog collars on. I decide to take off my shirt as well. I mean, it was awkward halfway up my body when the guy was toying with my nipple. Besides, that felt pretty wild, I think I'd like some more of that. I reach up and toy with my own nipples a little. This tall man is leaning up against the wall watching me. It feels very sensuous to me, looking like a slut as I sit here toying with my nipples as if I'm jerking the both of them off.
He walks up to me and when I see the look in his eyes something comes over me. I take my fingers off my nipples and put my hands behind my back. He smiles. "Good boy." He reaches for my right nipple with his large fingers and I brace myself. He lets go of my nipple and puts his hand on my head. "You must let yourself loose so I can take you. When you brace yourself, I stop."
Sounds good to me. It's a physical safe word. And I have to tell you, I fought like the dickens not to tense up, especially as he brought me deeper into what I guess I can call "pain-space" than I have ever been before. I couldn't stay loose any longer. "You did well, pup, for a baby slave," he says to me as he lets go of it. "I'll save the other nipple for later, pup. Count on it. Now come with me. Gotta strip you down, make you look like what you are, slaveboy." It feels so weird that I have one nipple that's very sore and the other practically untouched. He worked the same nipple that the Japanese guy had put the paper clip on. I have to fight the urge to reach up and toy with the other one myself but something tells me it's inappropriate for a slave to play with itself. That's for sluts that don't know their place. How is it that all these ideas are popping into my head. Is it because I'm feeling some pain, not only in my nipple but also in where Patrick slapped my face so hard this afternoon. I'm beginning to think he bruised my cheek bone or something. Shit! I think to myself: "that would really perfect the look. A stripped and bruised slaveboy still at loose."
So write me. I'm not posting chapter two until I get three emails. subkodak25@gmail.com
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