THE DOWNFALL OF NATE RAMSEY
This story is a gay fantasy; no part of it is based in fact, and none of the characters are intended to resemble real persons. This story chronicles the humiliating ordeals an 18- year-old high school senior is unwillingly subjected to. Some of these humiliations have a strong sexual component. If you are underage, or do not want to read about such matters, you should leave this webpage at once. Assuming you do not fall into either category (and you should not have come this far if you did), I bid you: onward!
---------------------- CHAPTER SIX: "Revenge is a dish best served hot."
For Bobby Rawlins, it was as if both Christmas and his birthday had arrived early that year. The previous night, when his neighbor's floodlights had come on, Bobby had looked out of his bedroom window and could have sworn he saw Nate's naked figure fleeing the floodlit lawn. His heart had skipped a beat - could it really be possible? His hunky but ever-cautious neighbor, actually streaking across his lawn? Surely not! His eyes must be playing tricks on him. After all, it had been some months since Bobby had laid eyes on even Nate's bare torso, thanks to that jerk informing Bobby's parents of his voyeurism.
Robert Senior had returned from his investigative trip to the Ramsey house displeased and not at all forthcoming to his son about the reason for the triggering of the floodlights. But Bobby later overheard a conversation between his two parents about the matter, and phrases like "barely decent" and "practically obscene" had lent fuel to the flames of Bobby's fertile imagination. He resolved to keep a careful watch on the house next door for any further signs of such activity. He was not disappointed when, the next morning, a bunch of teenagers herded a naked Nate out into his backyard, where he was washed with the garden hose and then left to dry in the open air. The sight of his arrogant neighbor at the mercy of a band of jocks had provided more than substantial material for a jerk-off, and Bobby climaxed twice between the times Nate was brought out of the house until he was let back in.
When he had finally come down from the post-orgasmic high, he tried to piece together what was going on in the house next door. Some sort of team initiation perhaps? Bobby wasn't in a sports team, but he had heard of such things happening. However, the fact that more than half of Nate's captors seemed younger than him made him doubt that theory. He then debated going over to Nate's house and had just made up his mind to do so when the occupants of the Ramsey house had come out and driven away to parts unknown. Bitterly disappointed, Bobby resigned himself to waiting. What if, upon their return, Nate was fully clothed? That would mean he'd missed his only chance to see the stud in the buff, up close and personal.
But fortune smiled down on Bobby that day. The sound of several cars arriving in quick succession on his quiet street drew his attention away from his homework and to the window, where he saw Nate, naked from the waist down, being led back to his house. Determined not to let the chance slip away again, Bobby hurried over, not even sure what his excuse would be for appearing on the Ramseys' front doorstep.
As it turned out, no excuses were necessary. He hadn't even rung the bell when the front door swung open and a lanky, older redhead ushered him indoors. "Come inside - Bobby, is it?"
Practically in a daze, Bobby stepped into the Ramseys' foyer. He estimated there were two dozen guys already in it, but his eyes were instantly drawn to the only one amongst them who was naked. He drank in the exquisite sight of the tanned, muscular chest, the tight abs, the smooth groin with dick and balls hanging low. Nate, as soon as he saw Bobby's gaze upon him, hastened to cover himself up with both hands but, to Bobby's surprise, the pair of twins standing beside him immediately wrenched his hands apart, once more giving Bobby a full-frontal look at Nate's nudity.
"Hellooo? Bobby?" Owen waved his hand in front of Bobby's face, bringing him out of his stupor.
Bobby blinked, several times, before finally tearing his eyes away from Nate and transferring his attention to Owen. The questions came rushing out like a torrent."Who are you? How do you know my name? And what in the world's going on here?"
Owen grinned genially. "Let me answer your questions in order. I'm Owen; this is Wesley; Jason; Troy; Ethan; Andrew ..." He gestured to each as he spoke. "I'll let the rest introduce themselves to you later. As for how we knew your name, that's easy: Nathaniel told us who you were - and yes, he also enlightened us to what previously transpired between the two of you."
Bobby looked up, alarmed, but Owen continued to speak. "The answer to your last question is a bit more complex, but I'll try to sum it up briefly. Ramsey here managed to piss off quite a number of us, so, when the opportunity presented itself, we decided to get back at him. You see, we have some rather incriminating photos of him that he would rather not have released to the general public, and that makes him to do whatever we want ..."
"Whatever?" Bobby croaked, scarcely able to believe what he was hearing.
Owen nodded. "I understand you yourself have suffered at his hands."
This comment sparked a change in the previously-awestruck Bobby. He angrily vented, "Yeah, he told my parents lies about me being a peeping Tom, just because I happened to be looking out my window when he was changing in his room. It wasn't my fault he had his curtains open!"
Nate couldn't hold his tongue any longer. "You did a lot more than look when my curtains were open, you little shit! What about the binoc-"
Owen glibly cut him off with an elbow to his ribs. "So THAT's why you have your bedroom curtains closed all the time." He put a hand on Bobby's shoulder and started to lead him into the den. "Bobby, I had this idea before you came along and, now that you have, it strikes me that you're just the person to ensure it's carried out."
"What plan?"
"From now on, Nate's bedroom curtains are going to be always kept open. It doesn't matter if he's getting changed, or jerking himself off -"
Nate looked at him in horror. "But my room doesn't just face Bobby's, it faces the street too!"
Owen smiled in satisfaction. "Precisely. And you, Bobby, can help us out by making sure Nathaniel here does adhere to this rule at all times."
"You said - you said even when he jerks off," repeated Bobby in disbelief.
"Ah, yes. Once each day, in the evening, at a time of YOUR choosing, Bobby, Nathaniel will jerk himself off in front of the window."
Bobby's eyes fairly popped out of his head at this. Nate, however, was beside himself. "I'm not going to put on a show for this pervert!"
"It seems to me you've been calling others perverts a lot recently, Nathaniel, yet I suspect it will be YOU people will regard as the pervert if they see those photos," Owen remarked coldly.
"This isn't fair," whined Nate. "Do you know how much trouble I could -"
"You know what isn't fair?" interrupted Bobby. "Your accusations almost got me sent to the shrink! If Mom hadn't dissuaded Dad, I'd probably be in therapy right now." Then his furious expression was slowly replaced by a grin. "Though, after your behavior last night, I don't think my dad will be in a rush to believe your lies any time soon."
Bobby's words confirmed one of Nate's worst fears: the previous night's incident had tarnished his neighbor's perception of him ... and what Owen was now ordering him to do might well ruin his reputation to the rest of the neighborhood.
"Bobby, do you by any chance have a camera?" asked Drew.
"Yeah, a pretty good one as a matter of fact," he replied. "Why?"
"Well, I was thinking if you took photos of Nate, you could upload them to the secure website I've built - you know, add to our collection to help keep him in line."
"Cool!" exclaimed Bobby. "My camera has a wicked zoom feature; I could take paparazzi-style shots from my window."
Nate didn't like at all where this was headed, but he was the only one in the room with misgivings. Wes, smiling at the younger boy's obvious gusto, had an idea. "That would be perfect. Devlin, why don't you and Drew show Bobby how to access the site?"
Startled, Devlin blurted out, "Me?" Wes nodded, and Devlin glanced towards Bobby. The two boys exchanged shy smiles.
"Hold on a second though," said Owen. "First we have to take care of another matter -punishment."
"Punishment?" echoed Nate.
"Yes, Nathaniel - punishment. As you may recall, we told you to obey our every command immediately and enthusiastically. There were several times this morning alone when you hesitated to execute those orders, and for that you will be punished. Let me get the paddle - oh, thank you, Clifford." The freshman was already at Owen's elbow, paddle at the ready. Owen took it from him and declared, "Everyone gets one swat. Nathaniel, you know the position. This time over the stairs."
Nate turned around and obeyed without protest; he was too relieved that there would only be one swat per person. From his experience some twelve hours ago Nate knew how to brace himself for the blows, particularly for the hard ones that the seniors would inflict. He did notice that the freshmen and sophomores, who had never hit hard the previous night, were even less inclined to do so this afternoon. The indication that the tide was changing in his favor, at least amongst the younger guys, gave Nate cause for optimism. Maybe his torment would be over sooner than he thought. He hoped this phenomenon had passed unobserved by Owen. He was sadly mistaken. His chief tormentor had indeed observed, and prepared, for this eventuality, as Nate would learn to his despair later that day.
Owen noticed Bobby standing on the sidelines, entranced by the sight of his hunky neighbor getting paddled. Nate's smooth, bubble butt was bright crimson by this time, and a fine sheen of sweat was forming on his skin. "Bobby, would you like a go?"
"You mean I could?" asked Bobby excitedly.
"Sure. In fact, since you missed out on last night, why don't you have two turns?"
He didn't have to ask the eager fifteen-year-old twice. Hearing this conversation, Nate cringed, certain that Bobby would not fall into the category of those inclined towards sympathy for him. Sure enough, Bobby's pent-up rage came to the fore as he faced his studly neighbor's back, and he delivered a resounding thwack across each of Nate's buttcheeks with a force that belied his slight stature.
"Alright, that's it," announced Wes when Nate's butt had been paddled for the twenty-fifth time. "Why don't we all chill out and watch whatever game's on TV at the moment?"
This suggestion was greeted positively by the guys who were drowsy after lunch and most of them flopped down in front of the widescreen TV in the den. Drew and Devlin sat on either side of Bobby in front of the laptop to show him the videos and photos. Nate, his butt smarting from the paddlings, gladly welcomed the respite until ...
"Hey, who said YOU were getting a rest? You can go make us something to drink," ordered Ethan.
This command roused a chorus of comments:
"I think I saw some lemonade in the kitchen."
"Yeah, iced lemonade would really hit the spot."
"You heard your order, slave: make us some lemonade."
Nate was perturbed by how seriously his teammates were taking his `slavery' but, at the same time, he was relieved that their orders were so simple and not as degrading as they could've been. The thought was premature.
"Oh, Nathaniel," Owen called as he was about to go into the kitchen. "I think I'd like a coffee instead. Black, with one spoon of sugar. Make sure it's just above room temperature."
"Actually, I've changed my mind too," grinned Dave. "I want a Coke. With ice."
"Coke with lemonade!" yelled Parker.
"A cold beer for me!" shouted someone else.
Within minutes Nate had over a dozen very different, and very specific, drink requests.
"I hope you aren't going to forget or mix up any of those orders," commented Owen slyly. "That would call for further punishment."
Nate shuddered at the thought of his still-tender butt taking any more swats with the paddle - or worse - and prayed that he was remembering the requests correctly. Unfortunately, the guys were not done with him yet.
"Oh, and you can deliver the drinks the way proper slaves do - on your knees," said Troy.
"No, better yet, on all fours. Between here and the kitchen."
"What?" Nate squawked in protest.
"You heard us. Get a move on," said Owen.
Over the next couple of hours Nate's duty was to crawl back and forth between the kitchen and the den, balancing his masters' drinks and, on occasion, snacks. More than once he was sent back to the kitchen because the beverage he brought supposedly didn't fit the requester's specifications.
There were other cruel tricks of course. As he crawled across the foyer with a glass of lemonade in his hand Jason maliciously gave him a boot in the rear. The unexpected didn't make Nate drop the glass, but some of the lemonade did splash onto the tiled floor.
Nate boiled with fury but he contained it in silence. He stood up to fetch a drying cloth from the kitchen, but Jason had other ideas. "Aren't you going to clean that up?" he asked.
"I'm going to get a cloth from the kitchen," Nate snapped.
"Oh, I don't think you need to do that. Not when you've got a perfectly good tongue for that job."
Nate stared at him. "You've got to be kidding if you think I'm going to lick that off the floor."
"Did you hear that, Troy?" Upon hearing his name, their gay teammate stepped into the foyer. Jason briefly explained the situation to him, "Ramsey says he won't lick up lemonade from the floor."
Turning back to Nate, he said, "You've drunk cum - twice now - and a smoothie made with a banana that was up your ass. I don't think you can draw the line at lemonade that's been on the floor. Not even ..." His eyes never leaving Nate's face, Jason very deliberately placed his bare foot in the puddle of lemonade. "... if I step in it."
Nate looked pleadingly at the pair of them. They stared back at him mercilessly. Wearily, Nate got back down on his knees and started lapping at the ring of spilled lemonade around Jason's foot, doing his best to avoid it. But Jason was having none of that. As Troy filmed the latest degradation to befall Nate, Jason mashed his sodden foot in Nate's face. "Lick up every drop, slave. Don't forget in between my toes."
Nate almost sobbed in rage and despair. He could not for the life of him figure out why the normally easygoing Jason seemed to have it in for him. A thought suddenly crossed his mind ... but no, surely it was impossible that Jason knew about that? She'd sworn she would tell no one, not even him.
Meanwhile, Troy had spotted an ice-cube in the puddle of lemonade and, stooping to pick it up, he viciously shoved it down Nate's rear end. Nate's two tormentors didn't let him go until they were satisfied that both the floor tiles and Jason's left foot had been licked clean of lemonade. They left behind an utterly demeaned slave, with water from the melting ice-cube dripping down his crack ... and also an increasingly puzzled Wes, who, after observing the episode, remained in the dark as to the reason for Jason's animosity towards Nate.
Of course, Owen was quick to reassert his position as the biggest sadist of all, when Nate served up his coffee. "Wait a second. Stand up." Nate painfully got to his feet, his knees sore from all the crawling.
"You remember how I told you to prepare my coffee, right?"
Nate wracked his brains, trying to recall Owen's exact instructions. "Yes ..."
"Good. Then come closer." Nate approached him nervously. He was soon proved right to be cautious. Without warning, Owen grabbed Nate's dick and dipped it into the steaming liquid inside his mug.
Nate screamed. He was fortunate that the coffee wasn't scalding, but it was still hot enough to deliver a painful shock. His scream provoked some laughter, but there was a greater number of concerned looks. Several freshmen and sophomores looked distinctly troubled by this sadistic trick.
"Just above room temperature, I said," Owen coolly reminded Nate. "I'd say this is markedly above room temperature, wouldn't you?"
Nursing the tender head of his dick, Nate had no choice but to nod in agreement.
"Well then, YOU can drink this up, and go and make ME the coffee I told you to."
Nate obeyed, blinking back tears of pain. Returning to the kitchen, he found Devlin waiting for him. "Are you alright?" the freshman asked anxiously. "I mean, you weren't scalded, right?"
"No - luckily. But it did fucking hurt. Owen's a bastard."
"He shouldn't have done that to you," agreed Devlin. "That was mean and totally uncalled for."
"Oh yeah? Then how come you've been happily participating in all the stuff they've been doing to me?"
Devlin winced and said weakly, "It was just a bit of fun. The guys didn't mean any harm! Sure, they were a little pissed with you and you can't really blame them. I mean, you never bothered with us younger guys unless it was to boast about yourself."
Nate couldn't believe his ears. "So, for that, you trap me naked in my own house, grope me, make me jerk off in front of you guys, and when you're not content with that, you make me do this stuff to me in public too? All this because I BOASTED about myself?"
Devlin wilted under Nate's forceful accusations. But Nate wasn't done with him yet. All the rage that had been simmering under the surface without any outlet now came pouring out on the hapless freshman. "Stop lying about why you did all that shit to me, Dev! You just wanted the chance to see me naked and touch my dick, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU? You fucking fag-"
Wes appeared suddenly in the kitchen. "That's enough, Nate! I believe you still have a few drinks to serve up. After which you can check with Owen for further instructions. Devlin, come with me." Putting his hands on Devlin's shoulders, he steered him out to the foyer and halfway up the stairs, where he sat down and gestured for the freshman to do the same.
"Are you okay, Dev?" He had felt the boy trembling as he'd led him out of the kitchen. "Don't pay Nate any attention; he's just venting his frustration and I'm sorry you had to bear the brunt of it."
"But he was right ..." said Devlin so softly that it was barely audible.
"Trust me, Devlin, you haven't had to put with him for as long as some of us have, or you wouldn't be so quick to sympathize with him."
"I know how the other guys feel about Nate. The thing is, I don't really feel the same way. I know he could do with some attitude adjustment, but some of the stuff we've been doing ... it hasn't really been fair, and lately, it's been cruel even."
Wes glanced at the younger boy. "You know, Dev, if you don't feel comfortable doing this, you can always leave."
Devlin looked up, startled. "I can?"
Wes laughed. "Of course! Don't sound so surprised. We're not expecting anyone to take part in stuff they're not comfortable with."
"Except Nate," Devlin pointed out.
"Except Nate," Wes agreed. "There is just one thing though: you've got to keep this whole thing within the team, okay?"
"No worries on that score, captain," Devlin assured him. "I promise it'll be a team secret."
"Attaboy, Dev." Wes ruffled the freshman's hair fondly.
Devlin got up and started to descend the stairs and then paused to look back at his captain. "Cap? You won't ... do anything worse to Nate, will you?"
Wes hesitated for the briefest of moments before replying, "No, Devlin, we won't."
Reassured, the freshman returned to the crowd inside the den. Wes, however, was feeling less and less sure of himself by the second.
& & & & &
Meanwhile, inside the den, the Hamilton twins moved the exercise bike from where it stood in a corner of the room to the space in front of the large window. The floor-to-ceiling glass faced the front lawn, and while it was set some way back from the street, it was still possible for someone walking their dog to get a glimpse of the bike in its new position.
"Now, we've already said that your becoming a slave doesn't mean you should miss out on your daily exercise," stated Owen.
"Yeah, we don't want you to lose that six-pack," said Ethan sarcastically.
"You've got to look your best the next time you end up naked in public," added Lucas.
"Which I'm betting will be very soon," finished Dave.
Parker came into the den, holding something gingerly in his right hand. "Well, I couldn't find the towel you asked for, Owen, but I did find something even better." He brandished the object in his hand: the cum-encrusted rag from Nate's nightstand. The boys hooted with laughter as he carefully laid it as a covering for the seat of the exercise bike.
"Get on the bike, then," ordered Jason. Nate climbed onto the seat of the bike, agonizingly aware of how exposed he was to people outside his house from his location.
"It's not going to be all fun and games either; you're going to have targets that you have to meet, or face even more punishment." Owen gave an evil grin. "Don't think I've forgotten that you owe me for that mistake with the coffee."
Nate gulped. Spotting Wes reentering the den, Owen asked him, "Wesley, do you want to set Nathaniel's first target then?"
Wes had been distracted by his thoughts. "Uh, yeah, sure. Fifteen kilometers in half an hour?"
Owen grunted. "It'll do for a start, I guess. You heard your master, slave; start cycling!"
Nate hastily obeyed, pedaling for all he was worth. After watching him for a few minutes, his teammates became bored and returned to what they were doing before. Even Ethan had set the camera up to record from a nearby bookcase. Nate was tempted to slack off, but he knew the penalty would be severe. And at least exercising on the bike - even naked - was far less demeaning than getting paddled or having objects shoved up his butt.
Fifteen minutes into the regime, Owen came over and, upon observing that Nate had cycled nine kilometers already, turned up the difficulty level. Nate had to pedal doubly fast to ensure he achieved the target. With the sweat pouring off of him, his body glistening with it and his muscles stretched taut as he bent over the bike, he looked good enough to eat - though no one in that room was about to tell him that! They did, however, burst out into raucous laughter when Nate got off the bike at the end of the thirty minutes, because the cum rag had become entrenched in his buttcrack. Blushing furiously, Nate pulled it out.
Owen was quite disappointed that Nate had managed to meet the goal, and thus wasn't going to need punishing, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he ordered Nate to get on the floor in front of the window and do five dozen crunches.
"Can't let your abs turn to flab," he declared cheerfully. "You have twelve minutes."
Of course, Nate was exhausted from the cycling and, as hard as he tried, twelve minutes later, he'd only managed 57 crunches.
"Please, just give another minute, I can finish 60!"
Owen shook his head. "I said twelve minutes, and that's all you're going to get. But if it's any consolation, we've decided to allow your punishments to build up before we execute it at some later date."
Nate didn't know whether to be relieved or not at this pronouncement. "Can I get some water to drink?"
"Sure, but you don't need to go to the kitchen, not when there's plenty on you already."
Nate looked down at his body, dripping with sweat as it was. He wanted to say he wasn't that thirsty, but then he remembered what Jason had said earlier. Wearily, he scooped up as much sweat from his skin as possible and lapped it up from his palm. His teammates made disgusted faces at his depravity.
"I was only kidding, you know," said Owen, belatedly and insincerely. "But since you seem to like the taste of bodily fluids so much I guess you might as well continue what you're doing."
Nate felt extremely stupid. He sheepishly lowered his hand from his mouth, just as Drew announced, "By the way, guys, Bobby here has a suggestion he wants to share." He gave the bespectacled sophomore an encouraging look.
Bobby spoke up a little hesitantly, "Well, I was thinking - since I live next door anyway - I could watch out for Nate if he's going to sunbathe in his yard."
"It's not like you don't do that anyway," Nate muttered under his breath.
But Bobby hadn't finished his suggestion yet. "Except maybe, next time, he could leave off the shorts."
Owen guffawed at this. "You know, that's a great idea. Nathaniel can work on those unsightly tan lines."
"You can help him out with his tanning lotion too, if you want," suggested Troy. "The ball's in your court with this one; roll with it any way you like."
Nate groaned silently, knowing better than to protest. It was bad enough having to put on a wank-show every evening for Bobby; now he'd have to endure the little pervert's hands all over him as he sunbathed naked in his yard!
Almost as if he could hear Nate's thoughts, Jason suddenly said, "What's the time? We must be getting close to Nate's appointment with his dick and a bottle of lotion."
"You're right," replied Ethan, looking at his watch. "It's a quarter to five."
Owen jumped into action. "Right! Robert, do you want to pop back over to your house and gear up at the window? I trust Andrew told you how to upload any images you take onto the website?"
Bobby nodded. "Thanks for inviting me into this. It's been great!"
Owen waved his hand magnanimously. "Oh, don't thank us. We're just glad we could help. Don't forget, if you get any trouble from Nathaniel, call me or Andrew." He shot Nate a hard look. "Though if the slave knows what's good for him, he won't give you any."
"Speaking of which, please take the slave to his bedroom," Jason told Shane and Stuart. The twins frog-marched the naked stud up the stairs and to his room, the rest of the entourage (minus Bobby) following behind them.
Nate's bedroom featured a large corner-window, one of those intended to showcase the architect's prowess in not needing a column at a corner of the house structure. The shorter expanse of glass had pretty much the same view as the den below it: of the front lawn and the street beyond. The longer length of glass faced the adjacent Rawlins residence, and Bobby's room in particular. Nate's study table was located below this portion, its top surface just coming up to the windowsill.
"On top of the table and on your knees," instructed Owen. That way, Nate's entire body would be visible full-frontal from Bobby's room, and side-on from his own lawn.
Seeing no way out of his predicament, Nate obeyed. The fear of being seen by people on the street weighed heavily on his mind; he could only hope his neighbors would keep their eyes at ground level and not glance up towards his first-floor window. Gazing out towards Bobby's room window, he could see the brat already in position, a powerful-looking camera in hand.
Someone passed him the bottle of lotion from his nightstand. "I don't think you need explicit instructions on what to do," joked Troy.
"A couple of caveats though," added Owen. "Take your time with this one - at least twenty minutes." Nate knew this meant twenty minutes where he'd be observable from the street, naked and stroking a hard-on. He swallowed back a sob.
"And when you cum, make sure you spray your stuff onto the window. That way, Bobby can be sure that you did jerk off to climax."
Mindful of his audience, Nate squirted some lotion onto his right hand and began to stroke his dick with it. Working up an erection was difficult for, every time he tried to think of sexy things, his mind went instead to the humiliating torments of the past 24 hours. And that had the opposite effect of deflating his dick.
"If you can't get it up, Ramsey, you don't need us to tell you the surefire way of getting past that," Jason reminded him.
Nate knew alright; he'd just hoped it wouldn't be necessary, not in his current position. But he could sense his teammates getting impatient and, wary of the penalties he might add to his present tally, he had no choice but to grease three fingers of his left hand with some residual lotion and begin sliding them into his asshole, one at a time. It worked.
Across the distance between the two houses, Bobby Rawlins was ensuring that he captured every second of his neighbor's torment. What his camera couldn't capture was taken care of by Ethan's camera, which recorded the stud finger-fucking himself. Put together, the two videos would be the definitive visual aid to humiliating a helpless jock.
To the jeers and taunts of his teammates, Nate came, pumping his sticky load onto the window pane, as instructed. But if he thought that was the end of his ordeal, he was mistaken.
"Now lick it up," commanded Owen. Too emotionally numb to even protest, and already accustomed to the taste of his own cum by this time (though he still found it disgusting), Nate leaned forwards and licked the glass clean.
"Alright, boys, that'll be it for today," announced Wes when he was done. To the volley of disappointed groans that greeted this statement, he mentioned, "Don't worry, guys; we'll upload the pics from Nate's clubbing `adventures' onto the website."
This seemed to mollify somewhat the under-18 crowd, who weren't of legal age to enter clubs. Owen added, "Anyone who still wants to join us tomorrow can meet us at the Atlantic Parade at twelve. We'll be shopping for Nathaniel's new wardrobe, among other things."
This suggestion earned several chuckles, as the boys debated whether Nate would be more embarrassed to be caught in a leopard g-string or lacy panties. The crowd began to disperse, spreading out to hunt for anything they might've left behind in the rooms where they'd spent the night. Owen gave them one last reminder to keep the whole affair within the team.
"Go Marlins!" the boys chorused. The ringleaders grinned, satisfied that the secret would be kept.
"Well then, Nathaniel, time for you to hit the shower," said Owen. "I think he can manage unsupervised for once, don't you?"
Nate stumbled down from the table and ran off to his bathroom, relieved that, for once, he could escape the constant surveillance.
"Make sure you clean yourself thoroughly!" called out Troy.
"Unless he wants to be hosed down outside again," said Drew.
"His neighbors would get a free show with their dinner if that happened," laughed Ethan.
Nate emerged from the bathroom a half-hour later, a towel wrapped tentatively around his waist. He was hoping he might be allowed to keep the towel on, but no such luck.
"Hey, naked slaves aren't supposed to cover up!" protested Dave, who was about to go downstairs. He ripped the towel off, returning Nate to his natural state. Nate sighed in frustration. Following Dave downstairs, he found that half the team had already left, and half the remaining number were about to follow suit.
"Well, enjoy yourselves, guys," said Parker, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He looked disappointed to be leaving. "Not you though," he added suddenly, looking at Nate.
Lucas directed his words at the six 18-year-olds who were staying behind to continue Nate's ordeal. "Give him hell for us."
"C'mon, Cliff. Out you go, bro," said Dave, leading his younger sibling out. As they passed Nate, Dave groped his dick roughly - setting the tone for his teammates' farewell gestures to the enslaved stud. Nate received a smack on his butt, a slap across the abs, a vicious twist of his nipple, and a squeeze of his balls (in that order) as they filed past him and out the front door.
"We've ordered Chinese, so I guess you'll have some more cleaning to do after dinner, but I suggest that you get this out of the way first," said Wes, gesturing to the dirty crockery lying around the room."
"In the meantime, I'm going to take a shower," Troy informed his friends. "I hope you don't mind me borrowing some of your clothes for the club?" He didn't wait for Nate's reply before disappearing up the stairs.
Over the next hour, Owen, Wes, Jason, Drew and Ethan each took their turn at one of the house's three bathrooms, making sure Nate was never left unsupervised. When the Chinese takeaway arrived, Nate had to answer the door naked. His masters had thrown him a bone this time by allowing him the tiny piece of fabric he used as a cum rag to cover his dick with. That didn't stop the Asian delivery boy from gaping at Nate's nudity, but at least it was less embarrassing than the full-frontal view the pizza delivery boy of the night before had gotten.
His face burning with shame, Nate paid the delivery boy and brought the food into the den. He found the boys watching the video of his first masturbation on the laptop, laughing their heads off as the onscreen Nate pumped the banana in and out of his ass.
"You can have your dinner sitting on the floor," said Wes. Nate was just grateful that he was getting dinner at all. He noticed that his six masters (he couldn't believe he'd started thinking of them as that!) were dressed in the best clothes from HIS wardrobe. He wondered what club they were going to, and what sort of `adventures' he would have there, as alluded to earlier by Wes.
It was only after he'd been seated in Owen's truck (still naked, on top of his folded clothes from that morning) that he gathered his courage to ask where they were headed.
"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," was all Troy would say, though his wicked grin as he spoke made Nate's heart sink.
The drive into town was uneventful; the seats in Owen's truck were raised so there was less likelihood of Nate's nudity being noticed by other road users. This didn't mean, however, that Nate was at ease with being naked on a public thoroughfare. He was trembling with fear by the time they pulled up in front of a nightclub in one of the seedier town quarters. Wes and Jason, who'd traveled there in Nate's car, parked behind them.
Looking at the exterior of the club, Nate found his concerns to be more than justified. It was obviously a gay club.
"I've never been to a gay club before," mused Drew. "What do you guys do for entertainment?" he asked Troy.
"Well, tonight, NATE is going to be the entertainment," Troy cackled evilly. "Put your clothes on then, or do you really want to enter a gay club naked?"
"Whatever happens inside," added Owen, "you say yes. If at any point you disagree with us, the website goes public and your parents, teachers and Melanie get pictorial proof of your perversions. Understand?"
Nate understood. With shaky hands, he pulled on his t-shirt and shorts. His consternation grew as Troy led them into the club, not by its front entrance, but rather the back door. A stout and balding middle-aged man, who was going over some accounts at a desk, looked up as they entered.
"Troy! I know you said a guy your age but I didn't expect so many!" the man exclaimed.
Troy grinned. "Not all of them, Claude, just this one here." He nudged Nate forward. "The rest of us are just here for, um, moral support. Guys, this is Claude, who owns the club."
Claude was not interested in introductions; he was eyeing the young stud appreciatively. The tight, sleeveless tee and low-slung shorts looked particularly good on his muscular frame. Claude looked sharply at Troy. "You're sure he's legal though?"
Troy dug into Nate's short and extricated his driving license from the wallet within. "All of eighteen years and two months," he proclaimed.
Claude whistled as he took a look at the license. "Christ! I know you said fresh meat, Troy, but I didn't think you meant this fresh."
"As fresh as they come," Troy said, barely keeping the grin out of his voice.
Nate flinched, hearing himself discussed in such terms in front of a stranger. It really brought home how his teammates now thought of him: a piece of meat.
"Let's see what he's got then."
Nate looked at Troy, who seemed to be the leader in this particular expedition. He gave the slightest of nods. Resigned, Nate stripped off his tee-shirt and, after a brief hesitation, pulled down his pants as well. Since he wasn't wearing any underwear, this rendered him completely naked for Claude's eagle-eyed gaze. He walked around Nate slowly, giving him the once-over. The naked stud nervously twisted the discarded shirt in his hands as he waited for the visual inspection to be over.
Claude was clearly quite taken by the sight. "He's certainly got a fantastic body. I have got to agree that it needs to be showed off. Real pity about the no-touching rule we've had to put in, thanks to some strippers insisting on `personal space' or some such rubbish. I bet the boys would've loved to run their hands over this one's bod."
Troy and Owen looked at each other. Troy spoke. "Well I don't think Nate minds a little touching, do you?"
He was still smiling, but Nate caught the hard glint in his eye that reminded him of the repercussions any refusal to do as he was told would bring. "No," he croaked, "I don't mind."
Claude shook his head in wonderment. "Well, the boys are certainly in for a treat then!"
Nate looked desperately at Wes. "Um, I think Troy spoke to you about the issue of anonymity?"
Claude glanced at Wes briefly. "Yes, he did. As a matter of fact, I have an idea that will go perfectly ... a superhero theme ... I've found that to be quite popular with the clientele, and the mask will protect his identity at the same time." He gave Nate another lecherous look. "Just come into the backroom whenever you're ready and we'll get you suited up."
As soon as Claude disappeared into the backroom, Nate rushed to Wes to make a last-ditch attempt at saving his dignity. "You can't seriously be expecting me to strip in front of a gay crowd!"
"That is exactly what we expect," Jason answered for him.
"But what if someone recognizes me? You said you wouldn't let this spread beyond the team, and you've already let in Bobby Rawlins -"
Ethan rolled his eyes. "You heard what Claude said: you'll be wearing a mask. No one will recognize you. Why would they? Unless you've been frequenting gay clubs in your spare time that similar club-goers should recognize you?"
"Of course not! But this is way beyond what we agreed!"
Owen decided to put an end to the argument. "Nathaniel, your options are simple: either you go out there and put on a show for a club full of gay guys, who won't recognize you and probably won't even remember you by tomorrow night, or you can choose to become jerk-off fodder for every gay guy between here and China for years to come. The choice is yours."
Put like that, Nate's choice became obvious. He gave one last pleading look at his tormentors, before conceding defeat and approaching the backroom.
"Don't worry, Nate. We'll be in the audience for moral support as promised!" Troy called out. The other boys giggled. "Ethan, you brought the camera, right? Claude said it's okay for us to film Nate's act."
Ethan tapped the saddlebag containing the camera, and Troy led them round to the front of the club, where they waited for Nate's debut on the gay club stage.
& & & & &
"Gentlemen, please welcome on stage, our newest performer, eighteen-year-old Robin!"
Claude got off the floorlit platform that ran halfway down the middle of the room as, from the curtains behind him, emerged "Robin". Dressed in the Batman sidekick's trademark outfit, the top half of Nate's face was hidden behind a black mask, with only his bright blue eyes showing. The rest of the costume was so tight-fitting it might have been molded for his body.
Doing his best to emulate the moves Claude had gotten another stripper in the backroom to teach him, Nate made his way down the platform to the pole at the end of it. He was one of the first acts of the night, and the crowd - mostly men thirty and over - were thrilled to have a beautifully- built teenaged stud performing for a change. They voiced their appreciation with catcalls and wolf-whistles. Ethan, from the back of the room, zoomed in on Nate grinding his crotch against the pole. All six boys were smirking at their slave demeaning himself like this in front of a crowd of people he instinctively disliked.
After a few minutes of pole-dancing, Nate saw, out of the corner of his eye, Claude giving him the signal to begin the next stage of his act. Reluctantly, he reached behind to unzip the costume from the back and peeled it down to his waist. The crowd became even more enthusiastic as he ran his hands over his tight abs and slid one hand down under the waistband to grab his crotch. The crowd's cries of "Strip! Strip! Strip!" were beginning to drown out the music.
Claude gave the next signal and Nate, with even greater reluctance, began to shimmy out of the costume completely. All he had on underneath was a tiny, yellow thong, with red sequins forming a bullseye on the pouch at the front. It left his perfect, bubble butt utterly exposed, and the sight of those muscular glutes sent the crowd wild. But there was still one more delight to come. Before stepping out of his costume, Nate extricated the pair of prop guns attached to the belt around his waist and handed them to two onlookers.
Both club-goers had clearly been there before, and knew exactly what to do with the props. They took careful aim at Nate's almost-naked body and squeezed the trigger. Nate was spattered on the chest and on the butt - with baby oil!
As he'd been told to, Nate rubbed the oil into his bare skin, giving it a sheen that highlighted his charms further. He thought he'd felt humiliated by the things his teammates had made him do in private, but it was nothing compared to being turned into cheap titillation for a crowd of horny gay club-goers.
Of course, there was a reason why there was a sequined bullseye on the front of Nate's thong. As the oil-squirting props were passed around, several members of the audience took a shot at it. The result was that the thin, yellow fabric began to turn translucent and heavy with the oil. The thong started to droop, revealing the root of Nate's dick to the onlooking crowd. His attempts to pull it up were futile. Like the Speedos he'd worn only that morning, the thong made no secret of the fact that his crotch was shaved bare, or that his dick was circumcised. Nate's blue eyes filled with tears at the number of people who were finding out these intimate details about his body. Luckily, the eyes of the audience were on Nate's magnificent physique, not his tearful face.
However bad the exposure of the past few minutes had been, the worst was yet to come. Claude climbed back onto the stage briefly to make a small announcement. "Gentlemen, I'm sure you'll be as pleased as I was to hear that Robin is waiving the no-touching rule."
The cheers at this proclamation were quite deafening, and the hapless Nate instantly found himself the target of many wandering hands. He was molested and groped in every way possible: there were fingers in his crack, hands trying to get into the pouch of his thong, palms rubbing the excess oil into his abs ...
"I almost feel sorry for Nate," remarked Drew from the boys' vantage point at the back of the room. "He looks positively terrified."
"Good," said Jason quite ruthlessly. "I hope it scares the wits out of him."
A patron had somehow managed to pull Nate down onto his lap, and was grinding his crotch against Nate's ass. Nate was quite sure the man was going commando under his jeans; he could feel the hard dick rubbing at his crack through the denim. It freaked him out and he hurriedly climbed off the man's lap. The man, however, was clearly pleased with his one-on-one time with the naked stud, if the ten-dollar bill he stuffed into the pouch of Nate's thong (grabbing a quick feel of his dick at the same time) was anything to judge by.
Deciding he'd had enough of this, and no amount of blackmail was going to get him to endure any more pawing, Nate tore himself away from the crowd and disappeared behind the curtains, much to the disappointment of his audience. He found an ecstatic Claude waiting for him in the backroom.
"Well done, my boy!" exclaimed the club owner, clapping Nate hard across his bare back. Upon seeing Troy and the rest entering the backroom, he rushed across to them. "An excellent find, Troy, I don't think I've ever seen the crowd get so worked up. It would be a pity if this was his only performance ..." he suggested.
Troy glanced at Nate and then grinned at Claude. "Oh, I'm sure we can manage a regular booking every Saturday from now on ..." Nate stared at him in horror and shook his head frantically, before Owen gave him a sharp nudge. Claude hadn't seen, and Troy was still talking. "My friend here actually took some really great shots of the Robin act; maybe you could use some of them as promotional material for next week. You know, really draw in the crowd ..."
"That would be fantastic! I'll even give you a better rate. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go and introduce the next act. A bit of a letdown after this hunk of flesh, no doubt, but it can't be helped ..." Claude gave Nate's bulge a friendly grope on his way out.
Alone in the room with his six tormentors, Nate vented his anger. "That was absolutely -"
"Humiliating? Demeaning? Degrading?" supplied Owen. "But, my dear Nathaniel, that was the point."
Nate knew there was no point in trying to reason with Owen. He turned his attention to Troy instead. "You never said anything about this being a regular act!"
His gay teammate shrugged. "I could hardly say no to Claude now, could I? He seemed to really appreciate your, er, talents."
"So did the crowd out there," added Drew. "You should be glad that you're of SOME use."
Wes located Nate's discarded clothes nearby and tossed them at him. "Get dressed. We've still got stuff to do back home." He glanced at Owen. "We'll meet you back at Nate's?"
Owen nodded. Wes and Jason exited the club and got into Nate's car.
Jason started the conversation. "That was kinda fun, huh? I mean, seeing Nate squirm on the platform with all those oblivious guys around him totally focused on his body?"
"Yeah, it sure was," replied Wes. In his mind's eye he could see Nate, naked except for the thong, rubbing oil into his torso. He blinked to clear the vision and turned his attention back to the road.
"So," Jason began very casually, "how long have you been attracted to Nate?"
Wes almost lost control of the car. It swerved dangerously into the adjacent, empty lane before Wes managed to regain control of the wheel.
"Wh-what are you talking about?" he blustered, avoiding eye contact with Jason.
"Come on, Wes. We've been best buds since the fifth grade. I've seen the way you look at him in the showers. Back there in the club, the look on your face was identical to those on the patrons' faces."
Wes knew he couldn't lie his way out of this one. "Okay. Maybe I am attracted to Nate. So what?"
"So nothing." Jason shrugged. "I just never had you pegged as gay."
"You're getting ahead off yourself, Jase. I never said I was gay. I still like girls, and Nate's the only guy I've ever been attracted to."
"Fine, bisexual then. I can see where you're coming from. Nate may be a jerk, but I can't deny that he's got a good body. As long as you don't tell me you're in love with him."
Wes snorted. "I'm not. Lust, maybe, but not love."
"Thank God. I can deal with lust, but not my best friend being in love with that fucking asshole."
Wes looked sideways at Jason. "You know, since we're being so honest here ... why don't you tell me why you hate his guts so much?"
"Uh, that." Jason cleared his throat nervously. "Look, if I tell you, you've got to keep it a secret, okay?"
"You know you can trust me."
"It started last summer. I had this feeling that my sister was seeing someone."
"Jessie? Whoa, don't tell me this is going where I think it is!"
"Just ... hear me out, okay?" Jason waited for Wes's nod before continuing. "So one day, I see this envelope pushed through the mail slot at home, and I pick it up. It's got Jessie's name on the front - nothing else. And I thought it was going to be one of those cheesy love letters freshmen write to one another. I called her to come down and started opening the envelope, wanting to tease her about whatever bad lyrics her secret boyfriend wrote for her. Only ... it wasn't a stupid poem, or anything romantic at all."
Jason paused, and the silence went on for so long that Wes had to prod him for the rest of the tale. "What was inside?"
"A photo ... of Jessie ... She didn't have any clothes on. The bastard took it while she was asleep."
"Oh my-!"
"Can you imagine seeing your kid sister like that? My sixteen-year-old baby sister! I couldn't even bring myself to look at the photo properly. I just wanted to rip the head off the bastard who took and sent the photo to her."
"It was Nate?"
"She wouldn't tell me. She came down and saw me with the photo, and she started crying. I told her to just say the guy's name and he'd wish he'd never been born, but she said that he'd threatened to distribute the photos to the entire school if she revealed who he was, especially to me. From that I knew it had to be someone I knew."
"So how'd you figure out it was Nate? I mean, I know he's a jerk, but I wouldn't have expected this from him -"
"Oh, it was him alright. The one thing I remember from that photo - I had to look somewhere other than at Jessie - was the pair of guy's underwear lying on the bed. It was pretty distinctive. I can tell you that, from then on, I kept my eyes peeled for anyone wearing designer bikini briefs like those ..."
"Wait, did you say bikini briefs?" Realization dawned on Wes. "Like the ones Nate was wearing yesterday!"
Jason nodded. "The moment I saw him in those, I knew. No one else I know wears those but him. And when I saw his bedroom - the same one in the photo - it sealed the deal. I promised myself the fucker would pay for terrorizing my sister. And when Drew snapped that photo to blackmail him with - it was like karma, catching up with him."
"Shit, I can't believe he did that to Jessie. He's an even bigger bastard than I imagined. Here I was thinking his attempts at displacing me as captain were bad -"
"He tried that?"
"Yeah, Owen told me. You mean you didn't know? Then again, I'm not surprised; he's not that stupid to think you'd support him over an old friend."
"That fucking bastard deserves everything he gets," spat Jason. "I'm going to fuck the living daylights out of him." He glanced at Wes. "You're not going to go soft on him, right?"
"Hell no! Truth be told, I was starting to feel a little sorry for him, but now that I know what he did to Jessie ... it just makes me sick. He'll pay for what he did, you can count on that."
& & & & &
The two best friends arrived at the Ramsey residence after the others in Owen's truck, due largely to the distraction of their conversation about Nate's past misdeeds. Troy let them into the house.
"We've got him tied up in the guest bedroom," he informed them. "We didn't want to do it upstairs in case young Bobby next door gets more than he bargained for if he looks out his window."
The two boys nodded and followed Troy into the ground-floor bedroom where Nate was spread-eagled, naked, on the queen- sized bed in the room's center. His four limbs formed an X as they were secured to the corners of the bed. The oil on his body had not been absorbed by the clothes he'd presumably been allowed to wear for the journey home, so his skin still gleamed with that oily sheen.
He kept raising his head, trying to see what the guys were doing. Drew was setting up the camera on the edge of the writing desk, so that it could capture the side view of Nate's body. Owen brought his bag of provisions in from the den and set it down on the floor next to the bed. Nate's heart was pounding in his chest.
"Guys," he asked tentatively, "what are you doing?"
"Only what we always meant to do," replied Owen. "Teach you a lesson you'll never forget." He glanced at Wes, who recognized his cue. He stepped up to the foot of the bed and began to unbuckle his belt.
Nate's eyes were bugging out in fear as he babbled, "I've learnt my lesson, guys, I promise. I'll never act like a jerk again."
"Oh, we know you won't," responded Jason. "Because we're going to make sure that arrogance is knocked right out of you."
Wes stared unwaveringly at the captive stud as he slid his jeans down to his ankles and stepped out of them. After a brief contemplation, he unbuttoned his shirt as well and stood there in his boxers, thumbs inserted into the waistband and ready to pull them off at any moment.
The reality of what was about to happen to him really hit home and Nate went beserk. He struggled wildly against his bonds, shouting, "Let me go, you bastards! You can't do this to me! This is rape! Let me go, you fuckers!"
Ethan, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable, interrupted. "Wait, guys. Can we have a time out?"
Owen had prepared for this possibility and led him out into the foyer. "What's the problem, Ethan?"
"Nate is right. God knows I'm the last person to stick up for that bastard but if we're going to do what I think we are, it will be rape. We could all be in serious trouble if he reports it."
"Do you think he'll report it? You think he's going to go to the cops and tell them he let himself be fucked at both ends by six guys?"
"I don't want to fuck him, Owen. I'm not even into sex with other guys."
"Neither are the rest of us - well, except Troy, for obvious reasons. This here isn't about sex; it's about power, teaching Ramsey a lesson. If you don't want to participate in the fucking, fine. But think about it this way: if your positions were reversed, do you see Ramsey sticking up for you?"
Ethan's eyes met Owen's, and he knew it was true. "Okay. I'm just going to watch though. I'm not going to fuck him."
Owen held up his hands in concession. "Hey, that's fine. If you change your mind, just say so."
The two boys returned to the bedroom, where they found Nate still thrashing against his bonds and yelling profanities at his captors. Wes had already stripped off his boxers and was stroking his dick to hardness before sheathing it in a condom.
Owen walked over to the side of the bed and, calmly, slapped Nate across the face. That stopped his shouting. "Listen up, slave. You can either do this the hard way or the easy way. The hard way involves a lot of pain and you getting fucked dry. You can make things easier on yourself by agreeing to give us each a blowjob and maybe - maybe - we'll slick up our dicks before we put it in you."
He glanced at Wes and the team captain climbed onto the bed. Lifting Nate's legs up to gain access to his asshole, Wes pressed the head of his dick against Nate's tight sphincter.
The stud winced and glared at Owen with a mix of anger, disbelief and fear. "You sick bastard! You may think you can rape me, but there's no way you're getting me to open my mouth willingly to suck you off."
Owen sighed. "Pity. I knew you'd be difficult, which is why I came prepared." He brought out a taser from his bag of provisions and held it against Nate's abs. Nate looked in terror from the taser to Owen's merciless face.
"One last chance to make it easy on yourself, Nathaniel. So what will it be? Either way, you're fucked - literally!"
To Be Continued . . .
I know I promised the rape in this chapter but this was too good a cliffhanger moment to pass up. And it has the additional benefit of leaving you excited for the next installment ;-)
Suggestions are always welcome, and I'd love to hear what you thought of this chapter. I'm sorry I couldn't respond to every email I got the last time (there were so many!) but thank you to everyone who wrote in. I promise to try and get back to each of you, especially if you have questions. My email address can be found at the top of the page.
Special thanks to Andy Robson [author of "Gym Slave"] for inspiring the licking-cum-off-the-window scenario. (Andy, if you're out there, please continue your story! Love, A Faithful Fan.)