Brady Cannon’s Unexpected Medical Exam 4a: Brady Earns His Cums (bb bt nc)

Introduction:Here is chapter 4, part “a” of Brady Cannon. Brady is about to learn that getting unlocked from his cock cage is more difficult than he can imagine. Once again, I have had men share their intimate early sexual experiences with me. I have tried to faithfully capture them in the scenes of my stories, honoring them even as I add my own touch. Those of you who enjoy my writing and with stories to share, I hope you will contact me. If you are underage or offended by such fantasies, please do not read this story, it is not meant for you. This is a stroke story for mature guys who understand the difference between fiction and reality.

I would of course be grateful for any feedback from those of you who find my stories engaging, and critical input from the other excellent writers on the net. My stories are heavily weighted to the sexual, rather than the story content, but I hope I have provided enough of a framework to keep your interest.

This story is about a straight Southern California teenager who falls into the clutches of two savvy pre-teen boys, and the series of events that emanate from one night of baby-sitting. At this point I will be adding chapters that have not been written or even outlined. Hence it may take 3-4 weeks for new chapters to emerge.

July 31, 2010


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Brady awoke the next morning on his back, the sheet kicked out from the base of the bed, and one of his big boy feet hanging off to the side. One hand was flung over his head, and the other was gripping his crotch through a portion of the skewed sheet that covered the middle of his torso and crotch. His hand was gently caressing his encased prick; unconsciously. As he gained his senses, he groaned softly. It all came back, he realized that the dreams he had during the night were not delusions. Brady Cannon, blond surf hunk and middle school basketball star, was a cock caged punk. Jesus, his parents were downstairs and would greet him cheerfully, ask what he had planned for the day and how the babysitting went last night, how the Jeffries boys were, and make small talk not realizing that their beautiful son was now a cock slut and had his dick imprisoned. Brady knew he would hardly be able to hear them or look at them. Instead, he would be thinking of the steel trap that was keeping him helpless. Oh Christ…how did this happen to him…how did he become the slave to two pre-teen boys, oh fuck, he was screwed, fucked…oh God.

As he lay in bed, his eyes closed, a tear rolling from his eye down his cheek, he recalled when he first saw the boys and tousled the hair on their heads. They were nothing to him, just some dumb kids. He had smiled at them like any older boy looks at kids. He doesn’t even know they are alive. They are girls he’s interested in fucking, they are not siblings that he has to pay attention to, they’re just punks like all little dudes. But now those kids had taken control of his life and his cock. “Fuck,” he suddenly shivered and his heart rate spiked…how would he get the God damn cage off his cock?

Brady swung his legs out of the bed and planted his feet on the floor as he sat on the edge. He rested his head in his hands, covering his face, trying to come to terms with what had happened to him. Then he stood up, and stumbled into his bathroom, his full bladder making him automatically stand in front of the toilet. It was at that moment that he realized that his prick hurt because his morning piss hard was forcing the big knobbed shaft into an aborted tumescence within the metal cage that surrounded it. “Shit….” he groaned out loud. He dumbly stood in front of the toilet where he was unable to control the direction of his pissing, so clenching his bladder muscle and hunching over he sat down. Miserable and defeated, he made sure his junk was below the toilet seat like some girl, and with tremendous effort, he began to squirt piss through his partially erect cock until if finally softened enough to create a long and continuous stream through the windows of the cage. Christ, at least he could shit without some contraption blocking that. As he pissed he tried to focus, and by the time he was done, he realized what he would have to do. Brady Cannon would have to abase himself to Jemmy, and humbly ask the boy to give him the key to take off the cage. He fucking hated the thought of it…but what the hell could he do? Shit, fuck, he would have to do it. Brady got up from the toilet and finishing both his piss and dump, wiped his ass and dabbed toilet paper around the wet end of his cage. Brushing the toilet paper against his anus had made him clench his glutes. Fuck, just the sensation of the paper against his shit slit made him twitch and his cock flex again. Fuuuccckk he thought to himself in disgust at his own body’s response… then he quickly stepped into the shower to cleanse himself of last night’s residue and he wished, last night’s memories.

Like a female rape victim, he needed to clean himself of any ostensible filth that seemed to still be clinging to his body. But when his hand reached again between his ass cheeks to wash his anus, the touch of his fingers on his pucker sent a chill through him and made his cock yet again strain against the cage. “Oh Christ…..” he grunted, knowing that his anus was no longer just his shit shute, but was a part of his body that now itched in a way he had never previously experienced. Brady bit his lip gently, knowing that his tits had also hardened, his anus itched in a way that made him finger the hole, and his God damn cock needed to be free. But more frightening to him, he needed them free so Jem and Jake could play with them, touch them, use them. Tears began to roll down his cheeks hidden amongst the flow of shower water cascading over him, helping him keep the secret that Brady Cannon knew he was a cock slut slave to the boys next door.

Next door, Jem Jeffries was in his bed awake while his little bro was still fast asleep. Jem had one hand behind his head, and his knees were up and spread, feet planted on the bed. Under the covers, his right hand was inside his pajama fly, and his fingers were teasing around the fat little bulb of his five inch pricklet. His boy bone was hard and the tip wet. Jem’s fingers teased around the corona, over the piss lips, and scratched gently against his circumcision scar. He could not help himself. The mere thought of what he and Jake had done to Brady, locking his big boy penis into the cock cage, made Jem crazy hard. His toes curled deliciously as his finger tips dragged over the ticklish glans of his cocklet, making him drive his tight little ass cheeks into his bed. He understood fundamentally that he and Jake were not fully in control of the boy next door. He was not sure what to do with this power, but he sure as fuck was going to enjoy it as long as he could. He hoped, assumed, that sometime today Brady would contact him to demand/ask to have the key to the lock on his big prick. But Jem had no intention of giving it to him. He was going to give Brady access to his penis as long as he and Jake were in charge of it, and only after he had performed some types of penance or offered some type of tribute to earn the privilege of having his big teen cock released from its new prison.

Jem groaned softly, cupping his cock head from the sheer excitement of the images flashing through his fertile pre-teen imagination. His cocklet throbbed, and with hardly three palm rolls over his prick knob, his toes dug into the bed, his ass raised off of it bowing his lithe young body, and he pulsed through a fifteen second dry cum…panting and groaning softly so that Jake did not wake. “Ohhhhhhh Gooooddd dddammmnnn…… fuuuuuccccckkkkk…. he whispered below his breath, helplessly enjoying the aching, ticklish sensation that he craved and he knew he was denying to that teenage slut, Brady Cannon. What other eleven year old kid was so fucking in heat and getting his bone off like Jem Jeffries.

Brady finished his shower, and dried his big body, gently dabbing his metal cock sheath, his big penis still pushing uncomfortably against the closed tip. Fuck, when he rubbed the towel between his hairy ass cheeks, it made his nips harden and his cock actually hurt yet again. Christ, he could not go all day this way. He dressed in shorts, a t-shirt and his flips, and went downstairs to have breakfast. He hardly listened as his Mom chatter as he ate his pancakes that she made for him before she and his dad left the house. As she droned on, and he tried to get his breakfast down, all he could do was move his ass around the stool he was sitting on at the kitchen bar, trying desperately to find a way to get comfortable as his penis continued to flex against its steel restraint. He finished his breakfast, and after curtly thanking his mother, he rushed back upstairs to his bedroom. It was 9:30 a.m., and Brady was unable to control himself. The mere fact that his cock was beyond his control and restrained was making him horny, and yet, the very catalyst of his excitement was also ironically preventing him from achieving the very condition he needed as a result of his confinement. Oh God, Brady felt like he was descending into madness. Scarcely two weeks earlier he was a normal teenage boy, and now he was a depraved cock slut. He needed his penis freed so that it could be rubbed, teased and milked… and by two fucking kids! Aaaaaaggghhhhh…..God he needed help, but he was helpless. No one could know, and even that made his prick push against the steel cage. Brady knew what he had to do….but even if he was disgusted by that knowledge, he also knew it was making his sex crazy horny. Fuck….!

Brady heard his parents leaving the house. His dad yelled up to him that they would be back by dinner, and asked if he needed money to buy lunch. He yelled back he was fine, and he heard the car leave the driveway. As they drove off, he began to hyperventilate knowing it was time. He closed his eyes trying to gain some semblance of self-control then he picked up his cell phone. He opened his eyes and he slowly punched in the numbers of Jem’s cell. The kid had given him a piece of paper with his number on it. He found it in the pocket of the shorts he had worn the previous night when he took out the money he was paid by Mr. Jeffries that he had jammed into that pocket when he stumbled home. Now he dialed the numbers and waited, perspiration forming under his arms and at his brow as he listened to the phone ring and waited nervously for Jem to answer.

Finally he heard the click of the phone pick-up, and as quickly, he began to hear a message. Jem was not answering the phone, but he had left a message….and fuck, the message was for Brady! The fucking nerve, the kid knew that his first call on Saturday would be his teenage neighbor and he left Brady a humiliating message:

“Dude, if yer getting’ this message, it means yer callin’ me ‘fore noon on Saturday. Don’t be such a pussy….you know that I’ve got the upper hand…yer just a punk. Don’t be a fag and hang in there. I’ll call you after lunch and tell you what’s up dude.”

Brady listened to the message in disbelief and then hit the replay so he could hear it again. His cock flexed hard against the cage, making him reach down with his free hand and squeeze his junk. Oh fuck it ached, and his balls that had just been drained the night before, seemed full and heavy. The mere sound of Jem’s voice was making Brady fuck horny, and even as he wanted to yell obscenities into the receiver, he also knew that the fuckin’ kid had him by the short hairs. Tears began to drip down his cheeks again…he coked up. He nodded his head sideways, as if to say “no” to his own feelings and humiliation. But even as he sobbed softly his big toes curled in hard on his flip flops….reflecting his hapless and useless resistance to Jem’s authority. He pressed the end button, and closed his flip phone. He would have to wait, three and a half hours….hoping that when he finally heard his new young master’s voice, Jem would offer Brady a way to end his subjugation.

The minutes and hours passed by interminably. Brady was shifting his gaze from a baseball he was tossing to the minute hand of his X-Men-Silver Surfer clock on the wall . Laying on his bed after lunch, he was throwing a baseball up to the ceiling, and then catching it on its descent in his baseball glove; waiting…trying to make the time pass as quickly as possible, but without having to think. He knew if he started thinking, his cock would harden in its prison because his thoughts would stray back to the place they had been going since the first night he babysat the boys next door. But when he was younger, whenever he just wanted to clear his head, he would take out his glove and play catch with himself. It was a boy thing…all guys do this kind of shit, shoot free-throws ad nauseam, play catch with a buddy or themselves, toss a football. Every guy knows that’s what you do when you want to chill. So Brady was waiting…trying to keep calm. He was also chewing gum, masticating it like he was trying to squeeze the flavor and life out of the two pieces of bubble gum he’d popped into his mouth. Baseball players always chew gum or tobacco to stem the boredom. It was a less obvious way of doing the boy thing, and another way not to be scratching their balls or jerking their pricks. [You see a guy who is always chewing gum and you gotta believe he strokes his cock like some dogs hump legs!]. As Brady blew his bubbles while he tossed the ball, he popped them hard. You knew he was angry as fuck and trying to keep his cool. At least these activities allowed him to show his teenage testosterone in some way, even if it was meaningless. His long toes flicked nervously, the index toes crossing over the big toes, the only sign of his tension. Then, finally, his cell phone rang.

The noisy tones of “I wish they all could be California girls” snapped Brady out of his stupor, and as his eyes flashed to his cell phone next to him on the nightstand, his baseball dropped from the last toss and hit his firm stomach with a thud. His concentration distracted by the moment he had been dreading and desperately waiting for. His cock hardened with each lyric sung by the Beach Boys. He cast off his glove and swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, grasping the phone. He flipped it open a bit too anxiously and then faked calm, saying flatly “Yeah…”

Jem was not fooled for a minute…He knew the earlier call was one of desperation. “Dude, I saw your parents left the house, how long are they gonna be gone?” Jem spoke in his own dull monotone, much more convincingly.

“Why?” Brady asked defensively.

“Dude, you don’t ask questions, you answer ‘em. Now tell me when yer parents are comin’ home!” Jem’s voice was hard. He knew he had the upper hand.

There was a long pause, and then Brady answered with the voice of a defeated boy: “They’re out till dinner time.”

“Good, I’m comin’ over. Jake is at at a swim lesson till 3:00 with my mom, and my dad’s playing golf with his buddies. I’ll be over in 5 minutes. When I get there, I want you on the desk in yer room…naked, with your face down on the desk, your ass up, yer big feet hanging over the edge and yer knees spread….Got it.”

“Jesus Christ, what’re ya talking about? That’s fucking sick!” Brady snapped, and immediately regretted it. He squeezed his eyes shut, his heart racing, goosebumps popped out on his neck, and his prick was trying to smash through the unyielding metal mesh. He reached down and squeezed his trapped junk from the pain.

This time, the pause was on Jem’s end of the line. “You’re the sick fuck…yer the one with the lock on yer cock…so shaddap….! When I get there, be like I said, or else.”

Brady understood the “or else.” He already had the proof of that on his prick, and in the pictures that Jem and Jake had sent to his e-mail address. He would follow instructions. Then without answering, Brady heard the line go dead. Jem did not need for him to respond. Instead he went directly downstairs, unlocked the back door, and returned to his room…to strip….”

When Jem entered the Connor’s house, it was quiet, almost like it was deserted. He walked through the kitchen and family room, heading to the staircase that lead to the second floor. He had only been in the house once before to deliver some eggs to Mrs. Connor that she had borrowed from Mrs. Jeffries. But that trip had given him a sense of the layout, and he knew where the staircase was located. As he moved up the stairs, all he could hear was the snap of his flips on the carpet, and the sound of his heart pounding. Could it be that Brady was going to willingly submit, or would there still be resistance from the cock caged fifteen year old? After all, this was the first time he was going to be with Brady by himself. At the landing on the second floor, Jem saw a door with a large poster of Paris Hilton in a bikini that allowed her nipples to pop and seemed to reveal every curve of her pussy. That would be Brady’s room, and so Jem turned the door handle and walked in.

The room was dark for the middle of the day, the Leveler blinds that covered the windows to his right were turned down and shut. To his left was a unmade bed, the sheet and coverlet askew, a night-table. At the end of the bed was a doorway that led to a what must be a bathroom….he could see the white tile illuminated by natural light from a window. Straight ahead was a long oak computer table, with built in casing above it filled with books, trophies and boy memorabilia. But the most remarkable element in the room was on that desk. Brady Connor was naked, on his knees, his big feet hanging over one end, his head down resting on his hands, his ass up in the air. He had placed a folded towel under his knees to protect them. His eyes were shut and he was shivering slightly. Fuck, Jem’s cocklet was tumescent when he entered the house, and it immediately went stone hard, almost throbbing in his briefs and shorts.

“Dude, good thing you didn’t fuck up” Jem said boldly even though he was shaking from the magnitude of his own success. He took the digital camera he had brought and started to snap pictures, first from the front angle to get Brady’s face in them, and then from the side and then the back. When he went to the back, he used his free hand to spread Brady’s firm ass cheeks and expose his hairy anal trough and the ragged slit. His middle finger and thumb kept the cheeks apart, and he dragged his index finger down the slit making Brady hiss and grunt:

“Aaaaaaahhhhhhh fuuuuccccckkkkk…what’re ya doing…c'mon dude, unlock me, get me outta this thing….pleaaaassssseeee!”

“Stop whining you big fag, yer not gonna get out of that cage until I say so.”

“Shit, get it off…my prick, it’s killin’ me….it hurts….fuuuuucccckkkk!”

“How come dude, you gotta boner…that the problem, yeah, that’s it, yer nothin’ but a big fag. You love being my slut, and yer gonna do everything I say or I’m not gonna take that lock off yer slimy cock, and yer never gonna cum again dude.”

“Oh Gooooddddd…please, please lemme outta it…I’ll do whatever ya say…please Jem, lemme out!” Brady, chocked back a sob, and Jem realized once again that he had more power over this fifteen year old blond jock than he could have possibly imagined when he and Jake started this whole escapade.

“Roll over on yer back, and put yer hands over yer head…” Brady awkwardly made the maneuver, his legs dangling over the end of the table now, and his metal cage standing out in the middle of his crotch. Jem put down the camera, and took out the cuffs he brought in his school backpack, then snapped them on along with a spreader bar with Velcro cuffs they had ordered off the internet using their dad’s credit card. When Brady was secured, he was ordered to get off the table and go sit on his bed. He looked miserable and beaten, and once again he asked his captor to please remove the cock lock. Jem, told him that if he continued to follow orders, he would be released soon, but not before.

Brady was confused, what more could he do? He was already a helpless captive to this kid, how could he do more to prove himself? Shit…what next? He shuffled over to the bed and sad down on the edge, hoping that Jem would not make him wait long. His cock continued to throb as it fought vainly against its prison. Jem did not wait long.

“Dude, is that yer laptop, open yer e-mail, I wanna see who writes ya.”

“Why, how come…what’ya want with my e-mail?”

“Look fucker, I don’t want any shit from you…I said open it if you want that lock off!”

Lowering his eyes and gritting his teeth, Brady took his laptop off his nightstand and put it on the bed next to him, his fingers typing quickly to open his Yahoo application and get to his g-mail account. Once he was in, Jem took the laptop away from him and putting it on the nightstand, he began going through the mail. He had noticed the laptop when he walked into the room, and it struck him that there might be a way to extend his control over and fun with Brady.

“Who’s this?” Jem asked about one message that had been sent the previous night, and which Brady had not opened.

Brady looked at the screen when Jem turned it toward him and pointed to a message. “It’s from a guy on my summer league basketball team, why?” The expression on his face was perplexed.

Jem read the message, asking Brady if he wanted to get together next Friday night. “Tell me about him” he asked Brady.

Brady looked puzzled, but the pressure on his cock head was like a dull ache, distracting him. He just wanted to be free from the lock. “He’s our point guard. He’s in high school I think, I heard him tell one of the guys on the team that he’s 17. His name is Danny Paterson. He and his family moved here at the beginning of the summer, from Arizona. He wants to play for the varsity at the high school, so he joined the summer league to work on his skills before fall practice begins. We got to be friends since I’m one of the leading scorers, and he’s the guy who runs the show. Now can I take this damn lock off, please, fuck it’s killin’ me.”

“Are your parents gonna be home on Friday night…the night he wanted to get together?” Brady looked up a bit defensively, while Jem looked back at him with an intense stare. Then Brady responded, and Jem broke out into a knowing smile. “No….cool. Write this Danny dude and tell him to come over next Friday.”

“What’ya mean…why do care if he comes over,” Brady asked naively.

“Look fucker, if you wanna get outta that lock, you better send him a message to come over, and make sure he makes it. Because if he don’t, I may not let you cum today, and for sure you’ll be locked up after today until I meet this dude.” Jem’s firm voice and his claim that he would be joining Brady and Danny, made the older boy begin to realize what was going on.

“Meet him? No….what’ya mean…no…look you got me into this fucked up deal, but I’m not bringin’ over any of my friends or the guys I know…hell no.” Brady tried to sound brave and face up to the young tyrant. But Jem would have none of it.

“Listen asshole, you’ll do what I say, and you know why. We’ve got enough pictures to screw you with all of your friends and teammates, and your family. You’ve got nothin’ to do but send out the message, and do what I tell you, get it!”

Brady whimpered softy, let his eyes fall as well as his expression. Without responding to Jem’s cynical comments, he took the laptop slowly and hit the reply button to Danny’s message, and said he’d like to get together next Friday night, and wouldn’t he like to come to Brady’s house since his parents would be away. He hit the send key, and looked up to Jem with a pleading expression. Jem smiled, and took Brady’s chin in one hand and put two fingers up to the older boy’s lips. Silently, obediently, Brady opened his mouth, and let Jem’s index and middle finger slide into his mouth, and like the good dog he was becoming, he began to suck them…closing his eyes in abject humiliation. Jem let go of his chin, and reached down to gently pinch one of Brady’s nipples, and he heard the older boy hiss, then groan from the pain of his helpless cock, fighting to be free.

Danny Paterson was sitting at his desk in his room, checking his e-mail when Brady Cannon’s message popped into his “In-Box.” He opened it quickly and saw that Brady was willing to get together. Danny had hoped they could go down to the Beach and check out the women, but if the kid wanted him to come over, that would be okay. Why not? But before he typed a quick affirmative response to Brady’s invitation, he paused.

The Patersons had moved from Arizona at the end of the spring, and truth be told, Danny was downright ecstatic. He’d always been the jock, at 5’10”, red hair and freckles, but dark auburn rather than strawberry hair color he had never had a problem making friends. In fact, he’d always been a bit cocky. Girls wanted to be with him, and guys admired his skills on the basketball court and baseball field. He played basketball in school, and baseball during the summer. He was always the leader, both point guard and shortstop. But Danny Paterson had a secret, and no one knew. Well, no one knew until the spring semester of his junior year.

He had been visiting the house of one of the young players on his Pony Colt team, a kid who at fifteen had been moved up from the end of the bench because of an injury to another player and given a chance to play with the older, more experienced kids. Basketball season had ended in March, so Danny was already thinking about the summer baseball league, so while the kid---Jason Palmer was not anything special, as one of the regulars on the team he decided he would take him under his wing. Jason was a bit like him as well. He had a kind of cocky attitude, but he always seemed to be trying to get Danny’s attention and friendship. Danny didn’t think about Jason one way or the other…except…well, Jason was actually big for his age. He was already almost 6’ tall, dark haired and big boned. And those size 9 feet, high arched, wide, narrow-heeled, long-toed, whenever the kid walked into the lockerroom at the high school where the summer games were played, his socks damp and outlining his muscular feet, in his leggings, there was something about the kid he could not figure.

Danny kept a personal journal in a notebook where he could also draw images. It was the only reason he didn’t put it on his laptop. He had made several drawings of baseball players feet, in their socks and leggings---up to their calves, in the notebook, and what he imagined their cocks looked like erect. By each of them, he had scribbled Jason’s name, and more…strange stuff…like how good it felt when he fucked the pillow in his room and thought of Jason’s feet. So that day, when he stopped by Jason’s house, only three blocks from his own, the notebook was in his backpack. He threw his backpack on the couch when he arrived, and then, after they had discussed the coming season and other shit, he picked it up and left. Except when he got home, he found that the notebook was missing. He searched like a madman, but could not find it in his backpack or in his room. Did he drop it on the way home, at school? No, he remembered looking at it during his free period at the end of the day in school. So the only place he stopped on the way home was at Jason’s house. He flipped open his cell phone and called Jason immediately. When the younger boy answered, his tone seemed so flat, too distant, not like the enthusiasm he usually expressed when Danny would call.

“Dude, what can I do for ya?”

“Hey Jas, I think I may have lost something over at your house today, can I come by and check?” Danny tried to sound casual, to hide his trembling and fear.

“What was it?” Jason asked flatly.

“Ah, just something that was in my backpack. So can I come over?” He sounded too eager.

“No need dude…I found it. It’s a notebook, and you got some weird shit it there. So yeah, c'mon over…and we’ll talk bout it.”

Jason hung up, something he had never done before, and suddenly Danny felt a cold chill run up his back. After always being the smug and confident redhead, he began to sweat. He got up, told his parents he needed to visit one of his friends, and walked out the door. That night almost changed his life. When he got to Jason’s place, he was greeted by the younger boy in his baseball pants, leggings and stockings, bare-chested, with his baseball cap on. He paid brief, almost unnoticed respects to Jason’s parents, and quietly they walked upstairs to Jason’s bedroom.

That night, Danny cried tears of abject humiliation. When the front door of Jason’s house closed, the younger ballplayer made it clear that he was going to keep the notebook, and all the “sick shit” that Danny had written about other dudes, masturbation, and all that “perv. shit.” Jason knew that Danny dated girls, and performed as expected. But he also knew, from the notebook that Danny did more than that, he dreamed of being on his hands and knees kissing the feet of many of the guys with whom he played basketball and baseball. Of course, Jason was one of them, and the prospect of having a private cocksucker for his own use was a dream come true. No longer would he have to jerk his pud; spank his own monkey. Instead, he had a fucking cock slave to service him and his young, teenage body, and he made sure that Danny understood the terms. At first Danny was mad, and he threatened Jason. But the younger boy just laughed cynically. Threatened him with what? As Jason wisely pointed out, he was holding all the cards; most notably, the notebook. When Danny realized just how fucked he was, he began to cry, and to plead. But Jason was so full of himself, and so fucking hard from the thought of having control of this older boy who had been the wet dream of most of the girls and probably some of the fags in high school, well, he could feel no compassion. In fact the more Danny abased himself, the harder Jason’s attitude got. All he could think about was how his throbbing penis was going to get relieved on a regular basis.

Sitting back on the chair at his desk, Jason crossed his legs and put his hands behind his head and began issuing Danny orders:

1. Strip fag, strip naked

2. Get on hour hands and knees, that’s what you’ve dreamed of doing…so do it!

3. Crawl over here and start sniffing my socks, dude, then take ‘em off and start sucking my toes. Maybe if yer good, I’ll let ya suck my dick….

As the tears rolled down his cheeks, and he continued to plead, Danny slowly stripped. At first he tried to use reason, suggesting that Jason’s parents might walk in on them. But Jason’s confidence dismissed any challenge. So first he unbuttoned and removed his shirt, then kicked off his trainers and pulled off his socks, then finally his fingers reached the fly of his shorts. He gave one last pleading expression to his former sycophant and when he say only cold contempt…he began to unsnap and lower the zipper of his shorts. As he was going through this painful humiliation, he did not realize that during this time he was completely hard. His cock was straining against his bikini briefs, leaking, and he did not even realize it. But Jas cold see it plainly, which was why he had no sympathy for the athlete. Apparently, Danny was finally living his hidden, secret fantasy.

Jason slowed the process, making Danny drop the shorts to his ankles, and then put one hand behind his head while he used the other to stroke his chest, nipples, and the wet front of his bulging bikini briefs, punched out by his demanding erection seeking to force itself outside the cloth confines. During this part of his humiliation, Danny continued to cry softly, still vainly pleading. But when he was finally allowed to lower and remove his briefs, he still had one final debasement to perform. Jason made him turn around, bend over, and spread his firm ass cheeks, and expose the hairy trough and ragged anal split. His tears came more profusely, and sobbing increased as he was instructed to drag an index finger up and down his anus, scratching the tight portal. Worse yet, his cock shaft hardened to a rigid projectile, leaking copious strands of clear fluid from his wide piss lips to the floor.

When Jas allowed Danny to turn around, he was required to get on his hands and knees, and crawl slowly over to the outstretched feet of his younger captor who was stretched out slouching in his desk chair. Danny smelled the leather baseball shoe/cleats and sweat stink of the soiled socks, not rancid, but rather the same scent that he privately enjoyed when he took off his own socks and leggings at home, or when alone in the lockerroom. As he approached Jason’s feet, the long toes flicked inside the socks. Danny’s tears began to give way, give way to the excitement of being prostrate at the feet of one of the boy’s that made his cock spurt wads of gism against the pillow as he fucked it with wild abandon in the privacy of his bedroom. Jason made Danny pull off the legging straps with his teeth and let them snap up to his calves. Then he was allowed to pull down the long baseball socks to Jason’s heels. From there, he was required to use his teeth to tug them off. When the boy’s long, thick toes were freed, Danny’s heart was pounding. And when Jason inserted his long toes of one foot into Danny’s mouth, and ordered him to suck, the older boy began to squirt ropes of thick teenage spunk between his legs onto the wood floor of the bedroom. Six long spurts bolted from his bloated cock head, and coated the floor, while Danny, eyes shut, suckled on the muscular big toe and its neighbor.

Jason made Danny pause, and to his abject humiliation, lick his own spooge up from the floor and swallow it, then service both of his feet before he was given the privilege of sucking the younger boy’s seven inch prick with its fat cock head. This was just the beginning. Danny learned to service every inch of Jason’s body, to lick his tight bung hole, to suckle his nips to add to Jason’s pleasure, to suck Jason in the lockerroom at school, in the toilet of one of the away parks where one of their rivals played their games. He was even made to masturbate in the bus on the way to a tournament, and to strip naked and masturbate in his own car, lying on the back seat while Jas snapped pictures. Danny’s prick went hard the moment he saw Jason, and he would sometimes cum without touching himself while servicing the younger boy. For those transgressions, Jason would paddle his ass with a ping pong paddle before he put on a condom and fucked the helpless boy, making him squirt again without touching his penis. Jason continued to date girls, and would no doubt begin to fuck them soon. But for the remainder of the semester, Danny was his helpless cock slut.

Then out of the blue, at the end of the semester, Danny’s father held a family meeting after dinner and explained that he had been offered a position in California that would double his salary. He knew it would be a hardship on Danny, leaving his school and friends as he was going into his senior year. But he hoped that Danny and his sister would understand. Danny acted as if he was depressed and angry, but inside he was thankful. He had received a reprieve, and without letting Jason know, he and his family left town. Jason would begin to screw girls regularly and Danny could only hope that he would fade into obscurity. Now, at this new school in the coming fall he could start fresh. His summer friendship with Brady Connor was natural in Danny’s mind. The kid was a great player on the court, and easy off of it. And yes, Danny stole glances at the kid’s big feet, his long toes, and his high arches. But he told himself he would never get into the same situation he had been in Arizona with Jason. Yeah, he would go to Brady’s on Friday ngiht. Why not…it would be fun…. He hit the send key and confirmed his message to Brady: “Sure dude, see ya. Dan”

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