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The White Stud presents

Kevin goes to the pride parade

By ShadowJack

Kevin was a femboy, of that there was no doubt.  But Kevin lived in a small conservative town called Pine Grove, and there was no place for femboys in Pine Grove.  He was saving up to get out of this place, to go to college in California somewhere, but in the meantime he had to live with his parents and pretend he was straight.

It wasn’t like he was fooling anyone, other than his parents. Anyone else who heard him speak or watched the way he moved could tell he was gay immediately.  Nevertheless, Kevin had to pretend, so he wore blue jeans, white tee-shirts and open plaid flannel shirts like everyone else, and when his co-workers at the supermarket talked about girls, Kevin said the things he was expected to say.

Kevin was floored when he heard there was going to be a Gay Pride Parade in Pine Grove.  It was scheduled for the same day as the big one that happened in the city, and was billed as a demonstration of the progressive spirit of the new, twenty-first century Pine Grove.

At first Kevin was skeptical.  He didn’t know anyone in Pine Grove who was progressive.  But he had to admit, he didn’t know all of the seven thousand people who lived there.  Maybe he just lived in the wrong part of town.  When the local news started hyping the parade and talking about it like it was a real thing, Kevin actually started getting excited about it.

Kevin had never gone outside his room wearing the kind of clothes he wanted to wear.  He had never been able to hold his head up and act like himself, never flaunted his gayness.  He had never even had a real boyfriend.  This Pride Parade was going to be his big chance to finally be who he wanted to be, to join his peers in gay solidarity, to shake off the shame he had always carried.

Kevin had a month and a half to plan his outfit.  He agonized over it, spent hours on the internet looking at clothes.  Part of him wanted to go full-on femme, but when he really thought about it, Kevin realized that wasn’t actually what he wanted.  He didn’t want to be a girl, he just wanted to be a feminine boy.  He wallowed in indecision right up until the day of the parade, but finally, he made up his mind.

He wore pointy-toed gray half-boots with two-inch heels on his feet.  He wore skin-tight, bright-white yoga pants with a low-cut waist.  For a top he wore a white halter-top that had a men’s collar and buttoned in front, but cinched in tight and ended just below his chest and left his arms and midriff bare.  He put a shiny brass bracelet on one wrist and a rainbow bracelet on the other.  He made up his eyes with mascara, and hung piratical brass earrings from his newly-pierced ears.  His hair was the same untrimmed blonde mop it always was.

He fretted because his panties made visible lines through the thin, tight fabric of the yoga pants, and when he experimented he found that he had visible panty lines no matter what underwear he wore.  Finally he tried wearing no underwear at all, and he liked the result.  His junk was a very visible bulge, but the yoga pants were opaque, and it wasn’t like he was trying to hide his maleness.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  On reflection, he felt having a visible bulge made a statement.

On the big day, Kevin sneaked out of the house without his parents seeing him, and drove his beat-up baby-blue bug down to the parade.  He parked blocks away, hid his keys in the box stuck to the inside of the fender, and walked up to Main Street just as the first float was going by.

He was as excited as he’d ever been, but now that he was out here on Main Street wearing his femboy clothes, fear began to set in. Perhaps this was a horrible mistake, outing himself like this.  He looked around, and noticed that there were people in the crowd that he recognized. What’s more, they had recognized him, and he caught some of them giving him the side-eye.  Well, it was too late to worry about that now!  Kevin was out, and he was proud!  Not as proud as he was frightened, but proud nonetheless.

The parade was somewhat less than spectacular.  Being the town’s first attempt at mustering a Pride Parade, it didn’t have the polish or the size that more established parades had.  But it was an effort, and the crowd clapped reservedly at each entry.  Kevin clapped along with them, perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than most.

After the parade had gone by, the crowds of spectators began to thin, while at the same time the barricaded street filled with revelers. Many were obviously gay, like the leathermen, while others were less obvious.  At first Kevin thought these were all his people, the hidden gay population of Pine Grove.  But the more he looked, the more he realized they couldn’t all be Pine Grovers. Nobody could live in Pine Grove with those haircuts, those piercings and those tattoos.  Most of them, he realized, must be from out of town, here to kick off the parade and encourage the local gay population to come out of hiding.

In just ten minutes, the central two blocks of downtown had been transformed from a parade route to a gay street fair, a thing Kevin had never imagined could happen in his tight-assed little town.  Street vendors sold rainbow necklaces, tee-shirts and beer in plastic cups.  Musicians played on street corners, and gay men openly hugged and kissed each other.  Kevin joined the crowd, grinning and greeting everyone he met.  This was what he’d hardly dared to hope for, a chance to meet other gay folks. 

The first time Kevin saw a leatherman leading his slaveboy down the street on a leash, he felt a strange thrill shoot through him.  He stared, astonished.  He’d never seen anything like it in real life before. He’d seen pictures on the internet, but had always thought it was just porn, not real.  He found himself following the pair, and before he knew it, he was among the leathermen.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” said a voice from beside him.

“What?” said Kevin, as if snapping out of a trance. He turned to see who had spoken.

The man was tall and well-muscled, his black leather vest open to reveal a thick, hairy chest.  He appeared to be in his forties, a touch of gray at his temples, with warm, friendly brown eyes and a sincere smile.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.  “I couldn’t help noticing you watching Al and his slaveboy.”

Kevin felt the heat in his cheeks as he blushed.  He looked away, embarrassed.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” said the man. “They’re doing their thing in public, they want people to watch them.”  The man turned to look at Al and his slaveboy.  “Al has absolute power over his slave.  At any moment he can order him to suck his cock, and the slave has to obey.”

As if the man’s words were a premonition, the slaveboy abruptly dropped to his knees, his hands clasping behind him.  His master unzipped his leather pants and pulled out a thick, heavy-looking cock.  He stepped up to the slaveboy, straddling his knees, and inserted it into the slaveboy’s mouth.

“Well sonofabitch, there they go now,” the man chuckled.

Kevin’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide in shock.  They were out in the open, in the middle of the street! He looked around nervously.  There were no police in sight, and the crowds of Pine Grove residents who had come for the parade had all left.  There was no one around now but the gay guys in the street, and they were stopping to watch the scene unfold, obvious approval on their faces.

Kevin had never imagined something like that could happen right there on Main Street.  But shocked as he was, it was the implications of what he was seeing that affected him the most strongly.  The man had just been saying that the slaveboy had to obey any time his master demanded satisfaction, and now he was seeing that happening.  In his mind, Kevin was imagining what it would be like to be that slaveboy, to have to take his master’s cock whenever and wherever his master felt like it.  It made him feel all soft and gooey inside.

“You must be a local boy,” said the man beside him.  “I love your outfit.  My name’s Francis, by the way.”  He held out his hand.

“I’m Kevin,” said Kevin, shaking the man’s hand. Francis’ grip was firm and strong, and held him a little longer than was comfortable.

“Care for a beer, Kevin?”  Francis held up the can of beer in his hand.

“Sure,” said Kevin.

The leathermen had an outreach trailer right there in the street, displaying rows of pamphlets and informational packets, and a sign that identified them as visitors from out of town, as Kevin had suspected.  But inside, the  trailer also held coolers of beer and who knew what else.

Francis pulled one out of the ice, popped the top, and handed it to Kevin.  Kevin drank gratefully, his eyes returning once more to the slaveboy avidly sucking his master’s cock just twenty feet away.

“Dominance and submission,” said Francis.  “That’s what we’re all about.  Some of us have the instinctive need to dominate, and some have a need to submit, sexually.  The two fit together, and both get what they need.  Like Yin and Yang.”

“I’ve never done anything like that,” said Kevin wistfully.

“But you’ve imagined it, haven’t you?” Francis said softly into his ear.

“Yes…” said Kevin, shocking himself.  He’d never admitted that to anyone!  He felt himself blushing again.

Slowly and deliberately, Francis reached his free hand over to cup the bulge in Kevin’s yoga pants.  Kevin’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the hand coming, hardly believing it was happening.  Despite knowing it was going to touch him, he couldn’t help gasping as it closed gently around his balls.

Oh my god, he’s touching me!

It felt so good, and it had been so long since anyone had touched him there!  The fabric of his yoga pants was so thin he could feel the heat of Francis’ hand, the tiniest subtlety of his caress.

“You’re submissive, I can tell,” murmured Francis as he skillfully stroked Kevin’s cotton-sheathed cock and balls.  “In your fantasies you’ve served stronger men with your body, and let them use you for their own pleasure… haven’t you, Kevin?”

“Yes,” Kevin whispered, shivering and closing his eyes.

He felt his cock stiffening under Francis’ ministrations. There was an alarm going off in his head, telling him he shouldn’t be letting a stranger do this to him out here on the street in front of everybody, but god, it felt so good, and he’d yearned for someone to touch him like this for so, so long… Soon he was rock-hard, and Francis just kept rubbing and caressing him, stoking his libido until he couldn’t even think.

“I’m going to put this collar on you now, Kevin,” said Francis.

“What?”  Kevin opened his eyes, and Francis was holding a black leather collar with glittering silvery hardware in front of his face.  Where had he gotten that?  His other hand had never stopped stroking Kevin’s stiff cock.

“It means that you’re my slaveboy, Kevin.  It means you have to do whatever I say.  But since you’re new to this, you can choose not to be a slave at any time, and I’ll take it off.  Okay?”

Kevin was speechless, but the collar went around his neck all the same.  This was happening way too fast, but he was so excited now that he didn’t want to resist. He had fantasized being an older man’s slave thousands of times, and suddenly it was really happening!

A leash was snapped onto the front of the collar.  Francis relieved him of his half-finished beer, then his strong hands were pulling Kevin’s wrists behind his back, and handcuffs were being fitted around them.  Kevin let it happen, his desire overpowering his caution, his head full of fantasies.

Then Francis was leading him around by his leash, pulling him first one way, then another, and Kevin was helpless, concentrating all his effort on staying upright.  His master finally stopped him behind the outreach trailer.

“Down on your knees, Kevin,” he commanded, and Kevin dropped to his knees without hesitation.

Kevin licked his lips in anticipation as Francis unzipped his tight leather pants inches from his face.  The cock he pulled out was so thick Kevin could hardly believe it.  He opened his mouth as wide as he could, and Francis stuffed the fat, meaty appendage inside.

It didn’t go well.  No matter how wide Kevin opened his mouth, that cock barely fit into it. His teeth scraped the top and bottom, and deep in the back of his mouth the massive cockhead was rubbing against his back teeth on both sides.  As the cock stiffened and swelled, things only got worse.  It didn’t take long for Francis to realize this wasn’t going to work.  He withdrew, and tucked the monster back into its den.

“Up!” said Francis, yanking the leash.  Kevin rose quickly to his feet, his brain trying to frame an apology of some kind.  “Okay,” said Francis, “you’re not going to be a suck-slave.  Ain’t got the mouth for it.”  Kevin felt a big, warm hand caress his right bottom-cheek.  “No, Kevin, you’re going to be a butt-slave.”

He led Kevin to the back end of the trailer, and opened up the cabinet doors there.  Inside, there were shelves, deep enough to hold the large sandwich-board signs they had distributed around their area.  Francis put a hand on Kevin’s head and bent him over, guided his head into a low, empty shelf.  He pushed him inside, all the way in, until only Kevin’s ass was sticking out of the trailer.  It was just the right height that his feet were firmly on the pavement, and he was bent over at a hard right angle, his entire upper body wedged into a narrow alcove that smelled of plywood.

Kevin was starting to tremble.  He knew what Francis had in mind, and it frightened him. He had played with other boys in high school, and on a couple of occasions he and another boy had tried butt-sex.  It had been awkward and difficult, their inexperience making a hash of it, and Kevin’s memories of those experimental penetrations were unpleasant.  Now suddenly he was bent over and helpless, and he knew Francis intended to stuff that monster cock of his into his tight little hole!

He knew if he started yelling Francis would let him go, at least he thought he would, but he’d fantasized about being another man’s slaveboy for so long, the last thing he wanted was to chicken out and end it. So Kevin kept still, closing his eyes and bracing himself for the ordeal he knew was coming.

Francis’ hands caressed his lean, rounded ass-cheeks lecherously through the thin white fabric of his yoga pants.  His thumbs delved into the crevice between, spreading it, pressing the cloth tight against its deepest features.  Kevin could feel the questing thumbs seeking and finding the puckered dimple of his anus.  Then fingers pinched the fabric in exactly that spot and pulled it out, pulled it far out. There was a snipping sound, the sound that only scissors make, and then the stretchy cloth snapped back into place.

Kevin’s eyes widened in sudden shock.  He could feel a cool draft of air right on his anus and nowhere else.  Francis must have cut a hole in his yoga pants, right where his anus was!  His suspicion was confirmed a moment later when he felt a finger touch the sensitive puckered flesh, skin-to-skin. Kevin yelped and squirmed, but he was entirely helpless as Francis tickled and teased his nervous asshole with his fingers.  Before long the fingers were smearing a thick lubricant onto the clenching orifice, and a few moments after that they began forcing their way up inside.

He’s going inside my butt! His finger is sliding in…

Inside his little plywood enclosure, Kevin yelped and whimpered as strong, skillful fingers explored his nervous rectum.  Every noise he made was amplified in his own ears, and he was embarrassed at how pathetic he sounded.  Francis was experienced and careful, but he was relentless, and while he never caused Kevin any true pain, he kept on pushing the boundaries of his tolerance, stretching the tiny, frightened orifice wider and wider. Finally the fingers withdrew, and Kevin felt the thick, spongey head of Francis’ monster cock pressing against his anus.

Oh god, oh god, he’s going to fuck my bottom!

Kevin had only taken a cock in his ass twice, but he had never given up control to his little friend in high school.  This was entirely different.  Kevin had no control at all here, and on top of that, Francis’ cock was more than three times the size of his high school friend’s little dick!

God, it’s going in!

Kevin began to panic.  He tried to twist away, to switch his ass from side to side, to somehow evade the inevitable.  He managed to dislodge the invader twice, but then Francis gripped his hips tightly, holding him still while he pushed.  Kevin’s terrified ass clenched spasmodically, but the massive cock was inexorable.  The tiny hole stretched around the immense cockhead, and suddenly it was inside.

Kevin squealed, the sound almost deafening to his own ears, but barely audible outside.  The pain was intense, and Francis paused there, only the head of his cock inside the femboy, and waited until the squealing stopped.  Gradually the pain subsided, Kevin’s tortured anus adjusting to the intrusion. When the squealing petered out into a soft, breathless whimpering, Francis resumed his invasion, and the giant cock forced its way deeper into Kevin’s ass.

Despite a series of pitiful wailings, groans and yelps from inside the plywood alcove, Francis drove his cock all the way into the femboy’s hot, tight ass.  Finally, buried to the hilt, he sighed and waited, enjoying the involuntary spasms that squeezed his cock for several minutes.

His cock is inside me! The whole thing!  It must be pressing against my lungs, I can hardly breathe!

Kevin gasped for air like a fish out of water, making desperate whimpering noises.  So many times he’d fantasized what it might be like to take a man’s cock in his ass, but he’d never imagined what he felt now.  His emotions roiled as his body tried to adjust to its impalement.  It was agony, the massive cock buried so deep in his entrails he feared he might die.  He felt the muscles of his anus still trying to close, their involuntary constriction only making the pain worse.  Kevin felt tears stinging his eyes, his body shuddering violently.  Gradually, the spasms subsided, easing his pain, but no sooner had he reached a point where it was tolerable, than the monster cock inside him began to slowly slide in and out with long, deep strokes.

Oh my god, he’s fucking me! I’m being fucked!

Francis loved these repressed, small-town femboys.  He knew exactly what they needed, far better than they themselves ever did, and he made a party out of giving it to them. He knew their yearning for submission, and he could tell this one, like most of them, had never experienced real submission before.  By putting them in a position where they had no recourse but to submit, he could break through the barriers of their inhibitions and bring them their first experience of being truly dominated.  The result was nearly always spectacular.

Francis fucked the femboy’s tight, inexperienced ass like it was his own, personal fuck-toy.  He fucked it slow and deep, fast and hard, any way he pleased.  Sometimes he popped his cock out of the hole entirely, just so he could slowly force it back inside.  The desperate noises and protests that issued from the plywood enclosure were so muffled that only he could hear them, and to him they were sweet, sweet music that only fed his libido.  The cabinet doors hung open, blocking the view of any casual passerby, and he knew he could take as long as he wanted.

Francis fucked Kevin for a full forty-five minutes. After the first twenty, the femboy’s cries had lost their urgency, and the begging and protests had stopped. The groans and whimpers he listened to toward the end were the sounds of a submissive femboy deep in the throes of his submission, a real, honest slaveboy giving in for the first time to the domination of his master’s cock.  When Francis finally allowed himself to cum, his hot flood of semen filling the femboy’s well-stretched rectum, he let out a cry of triumph.

When Kevin was finally pulled forth from the cabinet and allowed to straighten up, he was barely coherent.  His bright red cheeks were streaked with mascara from the tears he’d cried while being fucked, and his glassy eyes were wide with awe.  He voluntarily dropped to his knees and gazed up at Francis as though he were a god, and Francis smiled, basking in the moment. There was nothing quite like introducing a repressed, inexperienced femboy to the joy of submission!

Kevin’s new master tugged on his leash, signaling him to rise to his feet, and he obeyed quickly, though he was a bit unsteady.  The world around him seemed unreal, the only reality his master’s desires… and his own.

“C’mon, Butt-boy, we’re going for a little walk,” Francis said gruffly, yanking Kevin’s leash for emphasis.

Francis led Kevin down the street, pulling him along by his leash just as Kevin had seen that other slave being led.  Even through the warm haze of his desire, Kevin was aware of where he was and how he must look, being led like a dog down the street, his wrists cuffed behind him.  He was acutely aware of the fact that he was in the middle of Main Street, in the ultraconservative town of Pine Grove, and that there were bound to be locals nearby who could see him.  He felt his cheeks burn as he blushed, and he lowered his eyes for fear of seeing someone he knew.

But with his eyes lowered, he suddenly discovered something he hadn’t realized before now; his cock was erect, and it was pushing out very visibly against the thin fabric of his white yoga pants.  Worse, the white fabric had been soaked with pre-cum, and had become translucent all the way down to the base of his cock.  Everyone they passed could see his rock-hard erection, plain as day!  It was glaringly obvious the way it stood out from his abdomen, and every feature was clearly visible to everyone they passed.  And with his hands cuffed behind him, there was no way he could hide it!

A minute ago Kevin had been glowing with the first flush of true submission.  Now he was burning with humiliation.  It was more than he could bear, and yet somehow his penis remained hard.  Nearly everyone they passed stopped to stare, many of them pointing at his stiff dick and laughing, but Francis seemed oblivious as he led him down the block.  One guy, a member of a large group of local men and women, did a spit-take when he saw Kevin, and the whole group erupted in uproarious laughter.  Francis led him on a winding course the entire length of the enclosure, finally approaching another cluster of black-clad leathermen, another chapter from out of town.  It was the longest walk Kevin had ever taken.

Abruptly, Francis stopped to greet a friend, a fellow leatherman. No longer being dragged forward, Kevin turned away from the crowds, trying to hide his embarrassment.  That didn’t last long.  After less than a minute, Francis was showing off his enslaved femboy to his friend, turning him to face the man and yanking upward on his leash to make him straighten up.  The friend, a muscular, dark-haired man with a pointed goatee, grinned and stroked Kevin’s hard cock familiarly through the wet, translucent fabric that covered it, as though he were petting a cat.

He commented that Kevin was a very nice-looking femboy, and just like that, Francis asked his friend if he’d like to fuck him. Ignoring Kevin’s shocked reaction, the friend, whose name was Kirk, said he would.  Next thing Kevin knew, he was being dragged into a cluster of leather-clad men.  They all seemed to know Francis, and were obliging enough to arrange themselves very close together, forming a tight circle and blocking the view of passersby with their bodies.  Meanwhile, Francis made Kevin bend over so that Kirk could fuck him.

Kevin felt his panic rising as rough fingers inserted themselves through the convenient hole in his leggings, probing the well-lubricated orifice inside.  Despite the thorough buggering Francis had given him, his ass felt as tight as ever. After a very brief probing, Kirk brought out an impressive cock and began stuffing it into Kevin’s shuddering, reluctant ass.

It went in far easier than Kevin thought it would, but the initial pain of it made him wail loudly.  There was a ripple of laughter from the leathermen, and one of them covered Kevin’s mouth to keep the noise from attracting attention.  Two others held him still while Kirk began fucking him.

The sensation of another thick, meaty cock plunging in and out of his rectum soon put Kevin back into the submissive state he’d been in before. It still hurt, but the pain was mitigated by a growing strain of pleasure and overshadowed by his desire to be desired, to be used by stronger men.

When Kirk was done with him, another man stepped up behind him.  Another cock drove its way into him, then began sawing in and out.  By now Kevin was only whimpering and grunting softly as he was fucked, so the hand was removed from his mouth.  The stranger fucked him for a long time, but eventually he fired his load and withdrew.  There was another man waiting to take his place, then another and another.  At some point Francis slipped away to find a restroom, and never came back.

All in all, eleven men took their pleasure inside Kevin’s tight little bottom-hole.  When there were no more takers, a short, burly guy he’d never seen before cheerfully took his leash and led him away.

Kevin was beyond questioning anyone at this point.  Apparently, this guy was now his master.  In his mind he was nothing but a slaveboy, an ass that belonged to anyone with a hard cock.  He was lost in the rapture of his submission, and didn’t want to have to think.  He was still aware of how visible his hard cock was in the pre-cum-soaked yoga pants, but now it was dusk, and the people they passed were shadowed, without detail.  He hoped he looked the same to them.

His new master stopped him at a kiosk that was selling arcane-looking gay sex aids.  He barely got a glimpse of the oddly-shaped butt-plugs and shiny cock-rings before his burly master bent him over the counter.  A moment later he felt a cock forcing its way into his ass through the hole in his pants, and then he was being fucked, right there, out in the open. He tried to keep as quiet as he could, but toward the end he was really being pounded, and he couldn’t keep from wailing.

When his master was finished, Kevin found himself being passed off to another man, who took his leash and led him a little ways down the street until he met someone he knew.  Soon Kevin felt fingers slipping into his well-used bottom-hole, and then he was being bent over and sodomized again, right there in the street.

This is what it’s like to be a slaveboy.  Anyone can use my bottom-hole, any time, anywhere.

Another load of semen was pumped into Kevin’s ass, then he was turned around and another guy stuck his cock into him.  He pounded him mercilessly, then finally came with a loud groan, which was followed by a round of applause.  When Kevin straightened up, someone new had ahold of his leash, but Kevin didn’t question it.  Soon this guy, too, was fucking him, and when he was finished there was someone else.

Kevin lost track of how many times he was used.  He was so deep in a state of submission it hardly mattered any more.  Things changed when he noticed that the guy who was leading him now seemed very young. He was skinny, a little gawky, and reminded Kevin of his high school days.  The young guy led him down the block, texting on his smartphone.  When they got to American Burger, he led Kevin inside, and headed straight for the men’s restroom.  There were a lot of guys using the restroom, so the young guy took Kevin into one of the toilet stalls, the big one that was designed to accommodate a wheelchair. 

In the light of the restroom, Kevin could see that his new master was even younger than he’d thought, much younger than he was, probably still in high school.  He was a little taller than Kevin, but then nearly everyone was.  The kid looked him up and down, grinning.  “You’re a cute little femboy,” he said.  “We’re gonna have fun fucking you.”

He bent down and removed Kevin’s boots, having him lift his feet one at a time.  When he was barefoot, the kid ordered him to get up and stand on the toilet seat, then turn around and face the wall.  Kevin obeyed him without question.  Then he made him squat down, making his ass stick out and spreading his cheeks wide. A moment later he felt the kid’s fingers touching his tender anus through the hole in his yoga pants.  He shivered, bracing himself for what he knew came next.  The fingers slipped up inside him, and Kevin discovered his ass was sore from all the fucking.  He only whimpered softly, and rested his head against the wall to brace himself, his hands tugging futilely against the handcuffs.  After a few moments the fingers withdrew, and then he felt the blunt head of a cock against his hole.

The kid entered him slowly, letting him get used to being stretched again.  But once he had his whole cock inside, he began pumping away, making Kevin gasp and groan.  “Fuuuuuuck,” said the kid softly, “I can’t believe you’re so tight after that gang-bang!”

Kevin tried to make sense of the words, his thoughts scattered. Had he been gang-banged?  He had been fucked by a lot of men, but not all at once.  Still, now that he thought about it, if you added them all together, it probably did count as a gang-bang.  Then his ability to think slipped away, his attention focused on the cock plunging in and out of his ass.

The fucking had been going on for several minutes when there was a discrete knock on the stall door.  The kid yanked his cock out of Kevin abruptly, and turned to open the door. Four more high school kids slipped into the stall, giggling nervously.  A couple of them looked even younger than the kid who’d brought Kevin here. The kid shushed them, locked the door, and turned back to Kevin’s butt.  “I’m first,” he said.  “I’ll be done in a few minutes.”

The kids gathered around, uncomfortably close, as the first one stuck his slick cock back into Kevin’s ass.  Hands grasped his shoulders, steadying him and moving him away from the wall so that he didn’t need to lean his head on it to keep his balance.  The fucking resumed, the other kids whispering and brushing Kevin’s hair from his face so they could watch him as he took cock.  They cooed and giggled, and he heard several times how cute they thought he was.  They were all high school age gay boys, but Kevin noted that none of them was as femmy as he was.  They probably passed for straight here in Pine Grove.

After the first kid came inside Kevin’s ass, another one stepped up and began fucking him.  Kevin felt weird about being dominated and used by high school kids, but when he had a cock inside him his thoughts scattered.  He was only two years out of high school himself, so they weren’t that much younger than he was anyway, and he was certainly no more experienced than they were.

The second boy was soon squirting inside him, and when the cock pulled out of him Kevin just waited for the next cock.  But the other kids were holding an intense whispered conversation, and nobody was stepping in behind him.

“He’s not from out of town,” one kid was saying.  “I recognize him, he works at the grocery store.”

“Okay,” said another, “then let’s ask him.”

The kids helped Kevin down off the toilet, letting him sit down on it instead.  When they each told him their names, just like he was a real person, Kevin had to slip out of his submissive trance and re-engage his brain.  He told them his name was Kevin, and soon they were having a normal conversation, talking about high school and how hard it was being gay in a town like Pine Grove.  They were friendly and open, and Kevin liked them.  When they asked him if he’d like to come with them to their clubhouse, he agreed, especially after they mentioned they had a handcuff key there.

The kids had formed a secret gay club of about a dozen boys, and their clubhouse was a small guest-house in the back yard of an elderly, secretly gay man who had taken pity on them and let them rent the place for half the going rate.  Since they all still lived with their parents, they were rarely all there at once, so it wasn’t crowded despite its small size.  The bondage equipment prominently displayed in the main room was an easy giveaway as to their predilections.  Within half an hour of Kevin’s arrival, they had him naked, blindfolded and helplessly chained, standing on the low coffee table in the center of the room, hands cuffed over his head.

This was a game Kevin had never played before, but he knew the rules.  He was theirs to do with as they pleased, and he had a safeword if he needed it.  At first they explored his lean, smooth-shaven body with curious fingers, admiring his feminine attributes as no one ever had before.  But soon they were paddling his bottom with an assortment of implements, delighting in the way he squealed in pain just like a girl.  Next they toyed with his cock and balls, tying them up and teasing them, oiling his hard shaft and stroking it until Kevin was panting with unrequited arousal, almost begging them to let him cum. 

They were inexperienced, exploring their own desires even as they explored his body.  They fumbled a lot, and some of them touched and stroked him like they had never handled another person before.  Nevertheless, Kevin was entirely at their mercy, his helpless body theirs to play with. For all their inexperience, again and again they stroked him almost to orgasm, only to deny him every time.

Finally, after an hour of teasing torments, they laid him down on the table, tied him with his legs folded against his chest, and took turns fucking him.  Only after they had all cum inside his hot, squishy rectum did one of them finally stroke his desperate cock until he came, squealing helplessly, shooting streamer after streamer of hot semen into his own open mouth.

When it was all over they asked Kevin if he would join their club and let them play with him regularly.  Without hesitation, Kevin agreed to be their unconditional slaveboy. They may have been young, but Kevin had finally found his masters.  Twelve of them.

This piece appeared originally on Shadowjack's website