Straighthell-stories

He was just the type of muscle-boy I went for.  Good looking, great body, not particularly intelligent, and totally clueless that he was destined to spend the rest of his life as a faggot bitchboy.  His name was Jason and he was my son’s best friend.  My son, Billy, knew I was into dudes like his bro, but he’d begged me not to fuck his best bro.  And, all through high school, I left Jason alone.  Of course, it wasn’t just, or even primarily, because my boy asked me not to bitch out his friend that I left him alone.  As hot as some high school dudes are, I’ve got no desire to spend five to ten years in the slammer for poaching on underage boys – not when there’s so many good-looking young studs available who are totally legal.  So I just contented myself with watching as Jason grew into quite the fetching stud-pup.

Billy and Jason both graduated this June.  Billy’s off to State where he’ll be majoring in pre-law while Jason was planning on attending community college in town.  Both boys spent the major part of the summer lounging around our backyard pool and, inasmuch as I work from home – which came in real handy after Billy’s mom died of cancer when he was five – I’ve managed to spend a good deal of time with the two of them.  And I’ve got to say that, if anything, Jason has become sexier the older he gets.  Not that Billy is a slouch in the looks department, but he takes much more after his mother, barely reaching 5’9” and small-boned, too.  But his smaller body is packed with the muscles he developed over the years in gymnastics, and he’s got a really hot little ass on him – though being his father I’ve sworn off lusting after it.  Still, my son is sexy as shit, if I do say so myself.

As far as I know, Billy is totally straight.  And popular, too, judging from the number of girls I’ve seen him ushering into his bedroom and the squeals and creaking mattresses I’ve heard at all hours of the night.  Jason, though, has always been more of an enigma.  There was something about his eyes that intrigued me.  For someone as muscular and built up as Jason was, there was always a tentative aspect to them, almost as if he was constantly watching to see if you took him for the masculine dude he clearly intended to project himself as.  It was almost as if he was playing a role he was uncomfortable with, just hoping that he was providing a good enough performance that you’d believe him.

But it wasn’t just Jason’s eyes that gave me pause.  For a dude as good looking as he is, he also didn’t seem to date all that much.  I’d asked Billy about it, and he’d got all defensive about his best bro, although he did let it slip that Jason wasn’t that big in the cock department.

That piece of information, far from dissuading me, actually served to whet my appetite.  Over the years I’ve learned that it’s precisely the boys with big muscles and small cocks that are most likely to be closeted faggots.  They build those muscles up to compensate for the diminutive size of their endowment and, by doing so, unknowingly make themselves more attractive to Men like myself who couldn’t care less how much meat a fagboy is packing.  It’s almost as if Nature, realizing that these boys are unlikely to have much success as breeders, intentionally instills in them this drive to physically develop themselves so that they’ll end up being bred, themselves, and leave the breeding to Real Men who can do so successfully.

So the fact that Jason might be on the small side didn’t affect my interest in the slightest.  I had more than enough cock for the two of us.  Besides, it’s not like he was ever going to be using his little diclet anyway if I had my way.  It’d just be an ornament dangling between his legs.  It was Jason’s asshole – his pussy – that would become the boy’s true sex organ.

Knowing that Jason was going to be around after Billy went on to State, I made it a point to invite the boy to continue coming over even after Billy was gone.  “Feel free to think of this place as your second home, Jase,” I assured him.

Jason was effusive in his thanks, but Billy, knowing full-well that I had the hots for his friend’s body, gave me a hard stare.  I blandly stared right back.  I had promised that I wouldn’t make a move on Billy’s best friend, and I intended to abide by it.  But what Billy hadn’t considered was that once he got to State and started to hang with the dudes there, it wouldn’t be long before some other dude replaced Jason as Billy’s ‘best friend.’  That was just the way things were inevitably going to develop with a young dude like Billy.   He’d always have a warm space in his heart for his high school bro, but his closest buddies – and his new best friend – would ultimately come from his college classmates.  So when I did bitch Jason out, something I now had every intention of doing, I wouldn’t be bitching out Billy’s best friend.

Sure enough, it wasn’t even a week after Billy had left for State that Jason came over to use our pool.  Not surprisingly, I went out of my way to make the boy comfortable, too, letting him help himself to a beer whenever he wanted and, at times, even sharing a joint with him, too.  Soon, I could count on Jason coming by two, three, sometimes four times every week.  And the more the two of us hung out together, the more certain I became that Jason was a closeted fag and that I’d be doing him a favor when I finally bitched him out and yanked him out of the closet.

Three weeks after Billy left, I decided it was time to make my move.  I made sure Jason was coming over that Friday, and then cleared my calendar for the entire weekend.

I was already out on the pool deck when Jason arrived.  I told the boy that I’d decided to take the day off and just relax.  He was cool with that.  Once he’d settled down and stripped down to his board shorts, I went and got us a couple beers.  And I kept them coming.  Jason’s first two had Viagra in them.  By the time I got up to get us a third beer, Jason was showing hard wood through his swimming suit.  Admittedly, it wasn’t a lot of wood, but it was definitely hard.  So I put the roofie in the third beer.

Now, normally, I wouldn’t resort to chemicals to get what I wanted.  I’m a pretty big dude myself and usually I just muscle my prospective partner if he’s of a mind to resist my advances.  But I’d watched Jason working out in my basement gym and he was probably my match in brute strength.  I figured I’d probably be able to take him, if it came to that, because he’d be holding back a little seeing how I was his best friend’s father whereas I’d be going all out.  However, I couldn’t be sure of that and, besides, I didn’t want to be totally exhausted even before I had a chance to bust Jason’s cherry.  It seemed to me that, for the first go-round, a roofie was definitely the smart choice.

It didn’t take long for the roofie to hit Jason.  He had begun slurring his words and there was this confused look in his eye.  Playing the concerned parental figure to the hilt, I told the boy we needed to get him indoors.  Obviously, the hot sun was having an effect on him, I told the boy, which would have made more sense if it wasn’t a mostly cloudy day, but by that point in time, Jason really wasn’t thinking that clearly.

I got him up on his feet and guided the boy back into the house and took him straight to the master bedroom.  After all, I figured I might as well fuck the boy in comfort.  Jason looked really confused when I proceeded to strip his board shorts off of him, but he didn’t put up any fight.  But I could see his eyes widen when I stripped down and he saw my big cock jutting straight out from my crotch.  And when I climbed up on the bed, he managed to squeak out a ‘What…what are you doing…dude?’

A minute later, Jason knew exactly what I was doing.  An agonized cry of raw pain erupted from his lips as I banged my way into his cherry pussy.  I ignored that at first, concentrating on forcing the rest of my throbbing Man-cock into that tight hole.  But once I was fully mounted, I paused to give the teenager a chance to accustom himself to the major piece of Man-meat that was now making itself at home in his guts.

“The worst part is over,” I assured the boy, though I was pretty sure that wasn’t true.  “Now you need to relax.  It’s going to hurt for a while, you being a virgin and all.  But if you relax, it will be a lot easier on you.  Trust me.”

Of course, it was pretty ludicrous asking the boy to ‘trust’ me after I’d fed him a roofie and then raped his virgin ass, but I figured that in his drug-out state, my words might calm Jason down and help him to relax, which would, indeed, ease his pain.  At least until I really started throwing it to him.

I had fully intended to take it easy on Jason that first fuck, but the tightness of his previously untrammeled fuck-chute just got to me and, in less than two minutes, I was fucking him for all I was worth, and Jason was screaming his head off.  Fortunately for Jason, the incredible tightness of his boycunt that had caused me to so quickly lose control also ensured that my first orgasm wouldn’t be long in coming.  And it wasn’t.  Less than five minutes after I mounted up, I was spewing a massive load of my Man-cum deep in his teenage pussy.

I collapsed on the boy’s upturned legs, breathing heavily.  But I kept my cock buried up Jason’s hole and when I managed to catch my breath ten minutes later, my cock was as hard as it had been when it first plowed its way up his hole.  As I re-straightened myself out and got ready to get my second nut, I noticed that Jason was staring at me with a befuddled look, not surprising, I suppose, considering everything that had happened to him in the last hour.

“Don’t worry, Jase,” I tried to reassure the boy.  “This will be a lot easier than the first one.”

This time, though, having taken the edge off my horniness, I was able to make good on my promise.  Not only did I have a lot more control over my own thrusts, but I reached down and grabbed Jason’s cock – and it was really small, just like Billy had told me – and work it while I fucked him.  I have a lot of experience working a boy’s cock while I’m screwing him and I was able to get Jason’s cock as hard as a rock, admittedly a small rock, in less than three minutes.  And I kept working it, keeping it hard even as I picked up my fucking tempo and so managed things that even as I was emptying my nads for a second time up Jason’s incredible hole, the teenager was spewing his own ball-seed all over himself.

Objectively, Jason’s orgasm wasn’t a massive one.  But, considering that his balls were as undersized as his cock, I figured it was probably as good as it could get.  Jason’s face had this dreamy look you often see on boys who’ve just shot their load, but I couldn’t be sure it was because of how much he’d enjoyed his orgasm or simply the effects of the roofie.

I knew I’d need a rest after my second load, but I also figured it would be better for Jason if I kept my big cock wedged inside his cummed-up shitter.  So I maneuvered myself around until I was spooning him from the rear.  I reached around his chest and started fondling and working his big pecs and his boy-tits.  “Squeeze your pussy around my cock, Jase,” I whispered in his ear.  “Squeeze your pussy around my big cock.”

“What?” he queried, obviously still pretty out of it.

I repeated myself.  This time he responded, “oh…yeah,” as if my order was the most reasonable request in the world, and the next thing I knew I could feel his ass muscles contracting around my cock.  It felt fucking fantastic.

With Jason working on my cock, it didn’t take all that long before I was ready for another go-round with the boy’s great fuck-pit.  And I kept at it for the next five hours.  It was dark outside when I finally pulled my softening cock out of Jason’s cum-filled pussy.  I’d been able to tell that in the last hour or so the roofie had worn off and that the boy was now fully cognizant of what was happening to him, even if he was probably totally at sea as to how he had managed to end up in my bedroom with my cock up his teenboy ass.  And, while I thought it was significant that Jason had shot another load of his boy-scuzz during his last cunting-out – his third orgasm of the day – I was still somewhat wary as to how he would react now that he was fully aware of what had been happening to him.

Jason emitted an audible sigh as my cock finally exited his well-used fuck-hole, but other than that he said nothing for a good three minutes and just kept lying on his side, his back to me.  Finally, I reached over to touch his shoulder and softly asked, “You okay, Jase?”

I waited another minute, but having received no response, I slowly forced him onto his back so I could see his face and then I repeated my question, “You okay, Jase?”

Slowly, he turned to look at me.  I could see tears in his eyes as he quietly said, “You…you won’t tell him, will you, sir?  You won’t tell Billy?”

“Tell Billy what, Jase?” I pressed, even though I knew exactly what Jason was afraid of.  “Tell Billy what?”

“About me,” he sobbed.  “About me being a faggot and how I let you fuck me.  You won’t tell Billy that, will you, sir?  Please, sir, don’t do that.  Don’t tell Billy I’m a faggot.”

“Why shouldn’t I tell Billy you’re a faggot?” I asked.  “You are a faggot.  We both know that now.  Why shouldn’t Billy know, too?”

“Oh, please, sir,” Jason started pleading, crying like a little boy.  “Please.  Billy’s my bro.  He’s my best friend in the whole world.  If he finds out I’m a faggot, he’ll…he’ll hate me.  I know he will.”

“Jason,” I responded, reaching over and softly stroking his face, “Billy’s not going to hate you.  I know my son and that’s not the way he’ll react.  He’ll be surprised, I’m sure.  And it will affect his relationship with you.  It’s bound to, Jason.  After all, he thought you were a Real Man, and it turns out you’re a faggot.  He’ll probably start using you like a faggot when he finds out.”

“You mean…you mean, he’ll want to fuck me?” Jason asked, his voice trembling.

“Well, that’s what you do with a faggot, isn’t it, Jason?” I replied with a wry grin on my face.  “Isn’t that what I just did with you?”

Jason looked at me for a long moment and then, slowly, he said, “Yes, sir.  You fucked me.  That’s what Real Men do to faggots, I know that.”

“Then understand this, too, boy,” I said, deciding it was time to establish the new parameters of our relationship, “I’m going to be fucking you all the time from now on.  Every day.  I’m taking you as my personal faggot-bitch, Jason.  And I’ll be calling the shots from now on with respect to every aspect of your life.  Do you understand, boy?”

The stunned look on Jason’s face was almost comical.  “Really?” he finally responded.  “Really, sir? I’m your faggot-bitch now?”

“Yes, boy, you are,” I replied with a tone that brooked no contradiction.  “A muscle-fag like you needs someone guiding him, showing him how to comport himself, teaching him everything he needs to know to fulfill his proper role in life.  You’ve gone far too long without an Alpha properly training you and that ends today.  I’m taking charge of you, boy, and from now on you’re to consider yourself my faggot-bitch, my personal property.  Do you understand, faggot?”

I could see that Jason was stung by being addressed as ‘faggot,’ but he didn’t dispute the appellation.  Instead, he lowered his eyes and simply said, “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” I responded.  “Now it’s time to start your training, boy.  When you go home tonight, you’re going to tell your parents that tomorrow you’re going down to State to spend a week with Billy, though actually you’ll be spending it here, with me.  You’re to bring a small suitcase – empty.  When you get here, you will immediately strip buck naked and place all of your clothes in the suitcase.  You will then lock the suitcase and give me the key.  You will be kept completely naked the entire time you’re here, so be prepared for that.  Faggots are routinely kept naked when they’re at home with their Alphas and this will be good training for you.  Any questions so far, boy?”

“Nnn…No, sir,” Jason replied, his mind reeling as he was taking this all in.  He had just been told he was going to be naked for the entire next week and he couldn’t help but think that would be real embarrassing at times.

“Okay, boy,” I continued.  “Before you get here, though, I want you to go into your bathroom and shave off all of your body hair.  All of it.  Pubes and everything else.  I want your body hairless and smooth from the neck down when you get here.  Do you understand?”

That clearly shook the boy.  “My pubes, sir?  You want me to shave off my pubes.  Oh, please, sir.  Please.  Don’t make me do that.  I’ll look like a little boy if I shave off my pubic hair.”

“Boy,” I responded sharply, “this isn’t a negotiation.  I’m telling you what you WILL do, and you WILL shave off ALL of your body hair, including your pubes.  Men have body hair.  Boys are hairless and smooth.  You’ve been masquerading as a Man long enough.  It’s time you finally embraced your life as a BOY, because that’s what you’ll always be.  A BOY.”

“But…but, sir,” Jason persisted, clearly trying to hold back tears, “if I show up in a locker room with my body completely hairless, what will the other guys think?  It would be so humiliating standing there hairless and pubeless in front of them.  They’d probably all laugh at me and…you know, call me names.”

“Yes, boy,” I readily agreed, “they probably will do that.  But so what?  If Real Men want to make fun of a faggot, it’s their right.  And, boy, you better be prepared to be humiliated all the time from now on.  You’re a faggot and that just comes with the territory.  But don’t worry, I intend to humiliate you a lot myself over the next week and, hopefully, that’ll toughen you up for your future life.”

Jason was blushing something fierce by then and it was obvious that it was all he could do to keep from crying.  I have to admit, though, it was a real turn-on seeing him blushing like a little girl and I knew it was going to be a lot of fun humiliating him whenever I got the chance – at least for me.

Eventually, Jason managed to squeak out a “Yes, sir,” though it was half-hearted at best.  I was pleased with the progress we’d already made and, though I was tempted to give Jason one more good fuck before I sent him home, I decided to wait.  After all, I was going to have the boy with me the entire next week and I’d have more than enough opportunities to really break his cunt in.  But I had one more thing to take care of.

“I’m going to send you home now, boy,” I informed him, “but there’s one other thing you need to start taking care of.  You need to start douching your cunt every day.  No one likes a dirty cunt, so from now on one of the first things you do every day is give your boypussy a good cleaning out.  Do you understand, boy?”

Just hearing that was enough to make his face go from red to a brilliant scarlet.  “I have to douche myself…like a girl?” he finally asked plaintively. 

“Naturally, boy,” I quickly replied.  “You’ve got a cunt between your legs now, just like a girl, and it’s your responsibility to ensure that it’s always clean when a Man wants to use it.  So, yes, it’s your obligation now to douche your boypussy every day, just like a girl.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” he finally managed to squeak out.  “I’ll…I’ll douche my boypussy every day, just…just like a girl.”  I could tell by the way his lips were quivering that the boy had probably never been so humiliated in his life, which amused me considering all the greater humiliations that awaited him in the upcoming week.

“Fine,” I answered.  “Now go home and get some sleep.  I expect you to be back here tomorrow at 10:00 a.m., sharp.  Don’t be late.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, heading out the door.

As ordered, Jason appeared at my front door at precisely 10:00 a.m., wearing just board shorts and flip-flops, carrying an empty small suitcase.  But even though Jason had followed my instructions to the letter, I exploded the minute I saw him.  “Goddammit, faggot,” I screamed in his face.  “How dare you make me wait a full hour?  I ordered you to be here at 9:00 a.m. and you have the fucking nerve to saunter in here over an hour late.  Who the fuck do you think you’re dealing with, faggot?”

Jason was totally taken aback by my tirade.  “But, sir,” he tried explaining, “you told me to come by at 10:00 a.m.”

I acted as if his response had simply served to infuriate me even more.  “Are you contradicting me, faggot?  Are you telling me I don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Obviously scared now which, considering how muscled-up Jason is, was an incredible turn-on, he quickly stammered out an apology.  “Nnno, sir.  I’m sorry, sir.  I…I must have misheard you, sir.  I’m really sorry, sir.”

Clearly unmollified, I roughly ordered.  “Not nearly as sorry as you’re going to be, faggot.  Get out of those clothes.  Get naked.  Now!!!”

Given how little he was wearing, Jason was buck naked in 10 seconds, and I have to say that he looked particularly fetching all smooth and hairless, just like a prepubescent little boy.  I knew I’d have fun groping his totally shaven body but right now I had a different lesson to teach the young faggot.

“Put your panties and flip-flops in the suitcase,” I ordered, ‘then lock it and give me the key.”  Jason was so nervous he fumbled with the key and actually dropped it twice.  Once he handed me the key, I pocketed it and then sat down on the living room couch.

“Okay, faggot,” I directed, “get your naked ass over my lap.”

“Wh…why, sir?” Jason asked, his eyes big as saucers.

“Why do you think, faggot?” I responded with a sneer.  “Because I’m gonna discipline you the way naughty boys are always disciplined.  I’m gonna spank your ass, boy.  Spank it harder than it’s ever been spanked before.  That I can promise you.  Now get your fucking ass over my knees.  Now, faggot.  Now!!”

Jason was visibly trembling as he lowered himself over my lap, but I couldn’t help noticing that his little boy-cock was hard as iron, jutting straight out from his freshly-shaven crotch.  Once Jason had positioned himself over my lap, I reached down with my left hand and grabbed a firm hold of his cock and balls, causing the boy to squeal in surprise.  “Steady, faggot,” I ordered, as I began squeezing his big, hard globes with my right hand.  And then slowly, deliberately, I raised my hand and then brought it smashing down on his right butt-cheek.  The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the room.  A second later I repeated the maneuver with Jason’s left butt-cheek.  It wasn’t long before I was pounding out a tattoo on the teenager’s well-muscled buttocks.

Jason lasted a good five minutes of my increasingly hard ass-thrashing before he started uttering an occasional groan whenever a particularly hard swat fell on one of his ass-cheeks.  Soon, though, he was yelping on every stroke, and I hadn’t been spanking his ass much beyond ten minutes before he began pleading with me to stop.

I didn’t pay him any mind at first.  My general rule always was that you didn’t even consider stopping until the boy you were spanking was crying like a baby, something a boy like Jason would find particularly humiliating.  I have to give Jason credit, though.  He held out longer that I expected.  We were at least twenty minutes into his spanking and his two globes were already a fiery red before he let the first tears begin to flow.  But, once that happened, it wasn’t long before he was audibly sobbing.

I continued the spanking another five minutes, purposely stroking Jason’s boy-dick, making sure it was erect and throbbing when I finally told him to stand up.  Considering how much my own hand was burning by the time I ended Jason’s spanking, I can only imagine how much his boy-ass was hurting by the time I told him to stand up.

He stood in front of me, his head down, obviously completely chagrined at what had just happened to him – he’d been spanked like a little boy and ended up crying like one, too.  And while Jason didn’t realize it yet, this was going to be a daily occurrence, one designed to reinforce in Jason’s own mind the reality that, despite all his muscles, he was still just a little boy who was routinely disciplined and punished by Real Men.  And like all little boys, he didn’t have any option other than to submit to the Real Man’s authority.

Just to make sure the boy’s humiliation was complete, I remarked on his hard boy-cock, though I made a point of referring to it by its new name; it was now Jason’s ‘boy-clit.’  He literally cringed when I remarked that “only a super-faggot like you, Jason, gets a hard boy-clit when he’s being spanked.  You really are a total fag, aren’t you, boy?”

“Yes…yes, sir,” he managed to whisper before a crying jag made speaking impossible.  He was still crying when I bent him over and gave him his first fucking of the day.

That first week I gave Jason an accelerated course in sexual submission.  I fucked his boypussy a minimum of five or six times every day and shot multiple loads of both cum and piss down his throat.  I spent hours at a time just feeling up his body, getting Jason used to the reality that he was now merely a plaything for Real Men to have fun with.  I squeezed, pinched, and bit his boy-tits mercilessly until just the slightest touch made Jason squeal in pain.  The boy spent hours with his tongue buried up my asshole, laving my dirty shit-hole.  And on Saturday night, he served not only as the naked waiter for a dinner party of half-a-dozen of my friends but also provided the post-prandial entertainment that continued on past 3:00 a.m., and that left both of his holes raw and swimming in Man-cum.

That dinner party proved a real eye-opener – to say nothing of a cunt-opener – for Jason.  It was obvious he found it excruciatingly humiliating to be serving total strangers as a naked waiter, strangers who didn’t hesitate to fondle and squeeze his pecs, stroke and play with his little boy junk, finger and prod his boy-hole even as he served them drinks and dinner.  And the ribald comments that they made about the ‘faggot muscle-bitch’ and what they intended to do to him after dinner left the teenager blushing beet red almost the entire time he was serving dinner.

Then, after he had cleared the table after dinner was over and my guests turned their full attention to him, Jason finally got an inkling of what his future life will be like.  I started things off by fucking the boy on the center of the now-cleared dining room table.  He was on his back, his legs draped over my shoulders as I ravaged his boypussy to the cheers and shouts of my assembled guests.  ‘Fuck the little whore,’ ‘cream the faggot’s cunt,’ ‘make the little bitch feel it,’ were just some of the choice epithets thrown in the boy’s direction.

No sooner had I dropped my load of creamy Man-seed in his cunt and yanked my cock out of his pussy, than a pair of my friends forced Jason onto his hands and knees and began feeding him cock from both ends.  This spit-roasting went on for the next two hours, virtually unabated, with a new cock replacing a sated one every time a load of Man-slime was spewed into the teenager.

After those first two hours, things slowed down a little and they let Jason get off the table.  Of course, the assaults on his two fuck-holes didn’t end, but they became more leisurely – at least for my guests – as they moved Jason to the sofa, the chairs, and the floor while they took their pleasure of him.  They’d been using Jason as a urinal, as well as a fuck hole, the entire night and it eventually became obvious from the way his belly was bloating out that the boy was feeling the effects off all the bladder wastes he’d consumed.  So I wasn’t all that surprised when, during a particularly vigorous cunting, a seemingly unending stream of urine was literally fucked out of Jason to his obvious humiliation.

But urine wasn’t the only liquid forced out of Jason’s boy-clit during his long night of sexual use.  The little whore came time and time again as the men were pounding away inside his faggot cock-sleeve.  Any lingering doubts I might have had as to whether or not Jason was a born faggot were totally eliminated that night.  And that helped me make the decision I came to the next day – Jason wouldn’t just be my personal fag-bitch; he’d be my full-time live-in fuckboy.

I informed Jason of my decision the day after the party.  He was going to forego community college and instead become my slave-bitch.  Oh, he could tell his parents he was being hired as my personal assistant and would be living with me as part of his job and I would back him up in that.  I even told him that I would permit him to be ‘normally’ dressed when he visited them, which I would allow twice each month.  But that was the extent of the charade I would permit.  Other than his twice-monthly family visitations he would be naked at all times, and he would be subject to all the rules that normally circumscribe a slave-bitch’s life.

While Jason pleaded with me not to do this to him, I have to say I thought his begging was half-hearted at best.  I think that while, in his heart of hearts, Jason understood that this was the optimal role for him to play in life, it was just hard for him to accept being a Real Man’s slave, even though it was a role to which he was perfectly suited.  Anyway, on Monday morning I sent him home and gave him a week to prepare his parents for his departure.  Exactly a week later, Jason was at my front door, carrying those few possessions that he was permitted.  I had him strip naked on the front steps and only when he was as bare of clothing as the day he was born did I let him come in.  He’s been living as my slave-bitch ever since.

I’d purposely kept my son, Billy, in the dark about Jason’s transformation so, when he came home on semester break, he had no idea what awaited him.  I ordered Jason to stay in my bedroom until I called for him and then, once Billy got re-settled in his own bedroom, he and I had a discussion in the living room.

As you might expect, Billy was just full of his new life at State and, as I had anticipated he’d made a lot of new friends, particularly his roommate, Rog, who was on the university swimming team.  From the way he described him, Rog was a hot little number and for the umpteenth time I wondered whether, just like his old man, Billy was into hot-looking boy-ass.  Eventually, though, as I knew it would, the conversation got around to Jason.

“You know, dad,” Billy observed, “I haven’t heard from Jase in months.  I wonder how he’s doing at Wright Community College.  I thought I’d give him a call and maybe get together with him sometime this week.”

“That won’t be necessary, Billy,” I blandly replied.  “Jason’s already here.”

“What?” Billy exclaimed, obviously completely surprised.  “Jason’s here?”

“Yeah,” I responded.  “Let me give him a call.”  Then, watching my son’s face closely I called out, “Bitch.  Get your naked ass out here.”

Billy turned towards me questioningly when he heard me give my command but, a mere moment later, he showed absolute shock as an obviously embarrassed Jason came slowly walking into the living room buck naked.  The boy’s entire body was blushing a bright red as he turned towards me and said, “Yes, Master.  You called?”

It took Billy a few moments to collect his thoughts and then he turned back to me.  “Dad,” he complained, angrily, “you promised.  You promised you wouldn’t bitch out my best friend.”

“I didn’t,” I responded calmly.  “I bitched out Jason.  He probably was your best friend before you went to college, but I doubt whether that is true anymore, even without taking into consideration that he’s obviously a faggot fuck-bitch.  And you are a faggot fuck-bitch, aren’t you, Jason?” I added, turning to look at my slave bitch, standing there in all his naked glory.

“Yes…yes, Master,” Jason slowly replied, clearly near to tears.  “I am a faggot fuck-bitch.  I’m your faggot slave-bitch.”

“That’s right, bitch,” I agreed, “you’re my faggot slave.  And I need to pop a load right now, bitch,” I continued, loosening my pants and pulling out my cock, “so why don’t you get to work on it.”

His blush visibly deepening, Jason managed a ‘Yes, Master’ and then came up to me and dropped to his knees, studiously avoiding looking at Billy.  Billy, for his part, looked almost as embarrassed as Jason and moved to stand up.  “I’m outta here,” he declared.

“Stay where you are, boy,” I commanded in a domineering voice I’d never before used with my own son.  “That’s an order.  I want you to watch this.”

The look of surprise on his face was priceless, but Billy did as he was told and sat back down.  I turned back to Jason.  “Okay, bitch,” I ordered, “blow me.”

Immediately, Jason leaned forward and engulfed my throbbing Man-cock in his mouth.  Seconds later I could feel it working its way down Jason’s throat as my now well-trained bitch showed my son everything he’d learned over the past four months.  Jason had become quite the cocksucker over that period, and I easily could have cum less than five minutes after the boy had started his ministrations.  But I purposely held off, wanting Billy to see just how avid a cocksucker his friend now was.  And, just as I was approaching the point of no return, I pulled my cock from Jason’s mouth.  “Stand up and show me your pussy,” I now ordered.

I could see the way Jason cringed when he heard that order, but he knew better than to even protest.  Slowly he stood up and then turned around, bent over, and reaching behind himself with both hands, grabbed his butt-cheeks and spread them far apart, exposing his obviously well-used pussy-hole not only to my view but to Billy’s too.  A quick glance towards Billy showed me that my son well-understood exactly what Jason’s swollen and bruised cunt-hole meant – his former best friend had been fucked often and hard in just the last few days.  And, in just moments I was providing Billy with a visual example of just how hard Jason had been fucked.

I didn’t hold anything back while I was fucking my bitch.  I threw everything I had at him.  But even though I knew it was hurting the bitch, he stood his ground and took it.  And when, five minutes into the fuck I reached around the boy and grabbed his little boy-clit I wasn’t surprised to discover it hard as iron and coated with boy-pre.  While I was pleased with my slave-bitch’s performance, this fuck wasn’t for his benefit or even for mine.  It was for Billy’s benefit.  I wanted him to understand just how much of a fag-bitch his former best friend was so, even as I continued to ravage Jason’s hole, I told the boy to describe exactly how it felt to Billy.

Jason’s embarrassment at being cunted out in front of Billy was evident in the tremulous voice in which he responded.  “It…it hurts, Master,” he began, “like it always does when you fuck me hard.  It hurts…but…but it also feels good.  Your big Man-cock feels good in my…in my pussy.  It feels right.  It feels like your cock is…is where it belongs, Master.  Up my pussy.  Up my faggot-cunt.”

“So you like it when I fuck your cunt, bitch?” I pressed.

“Oh, yes, Master,” Jason quickly replied.  “I love it when you fuck me.”

“And do you like it when my friends fuck you, too?” I continued.

There was a slight pause before Jason answered, “Yes, Master, because I know it pleases you to see your friends fucking me.”

Having set the scene, I asked the question that I most wanted answered.  “And would you like it if Billy fucked you?”

This time there was a long pause, long enough for me to slap Jason hard on his butt-cheeks.  “I asked you a question, bitch,” I said with force, “and I expect an honest answer.  Do you want Billy to fuck you?”

Jason’s whole body was quivering as he slowly replied, “Yes…yes, Master.  I want Billy to fuck me.  I…I want it so bad.”

I was looking at Billy as Jason made his confession and while Billy blushed almost as much as Jason was doing, I couldn’t help noticing that his big cock was hard as iron in his jeans.  I was pleased with Jason’s performance, and I wanted both him and Billy to know that.  “Bitch,” I asked, “would you like to shoot one of your loads of fag-scuzz while I’m fucking you?”

This was something I only occasionally permitted my bitch to do, and Jason leapt at the opportunity.  “Oh, yes, Master, I would,” he immediately replied.

“Then you have my permission,” I granted.  “Subject, of course, to the usual restriction, no touching of your little fag-clit.”

“Yes, Master,” Jason responded, gratefully.  “Thank you so much, Master.”

It didn’t take much more than two minutes before Jason was bucking out a load of his fag-slime and, as usual whenever I let the bitch cum, his pussy did a real number on my cock when he did, and I reciprocated by flooding his fag-hole with a huge load of my babymakers.

I rested inside his warm and freshly moistened cunt for two or three minutes and then slowly withdrew my fuck-stick.  Immediately, Jason bent down and began cleaning up his fag effusions with his tongue, like a good little slave-bitch.  I sat down on the sofa and waited for my bitch to finish before I turned to my son.  “Billy,” I said, “I think you and Jason have a lot to discuss.  Why don’t you both go to your bedroom and hash things out?”

Billy was just staring at his former buddy, who was kneeling in front of me now, his head down.  Finally, Billy turned towards me.  “I guess you’re right, dad,” he said slowly.  “Jason and I do have a lot of things to work out between us.”  He stood up.

“Bitch,” I said, addressing Jason now, “you go with Billy and do whatever he tells you.  Understand?  Whatever he tells you.”

“Yes, Master,” Jason softly replied, getting back to his feet and then following Billy as my son headed towards his bedroom.  I stayed in the living room maybe a full hour and then headed off to my own bedroom.  As I passed Billy’s bedroom, I could hear the sounds of squealing inside.  The door had been left partially open – intentionally, I figured – and as I looked in I could see Jason on his back, his legs draped over Billy’s shoulders, as Billy fucked the hell out of his former best friend’s faggot cunt-hole.  Looking at the action, I couldn’t help but smile.  Watching the way my son was ravaging Jason’s boypussy, it was obvious that Billy was a chip off the old block.  Jason was going to have a really sore twat-hole when he finally came to my bed later tonight and, if there was one thing I loved fucking, it was a faggot bitch with a really sore pussy.

And I wasn’t disappointed.  Billy went after Jason a good four hours that first time.  When Jason finally stumbled into my bedroom, he reeked of cum.  But he made no complaint when I tossed him onto my bed and immediately began providing my contribution to his already-leaking fuck-hole.

After I’d worked off my initial horniness, I asked Jason how the session with Billy had gone.  “It went great, Master,” he said, with the smallest smile on his face.  “Billy – ‘Master Billy’ is what he said I should call him now – Master Billy gave me a real good coring-out.  A real good coring-out.  And he said he wanted to continue doing so every day from now on, as long as he’s home.  I told him that it was, of course, fine with me, provided it was fine with you, Master.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, bitch?” I responded.  “You’d like to have Billy fucking you every day?”

“Yes, Master,” Jason admitted, looking a little abashed as he did so.  “I would.  I’d really like having Master Billy fuck me every day.  If it’s alright with you, Master.”

“Well, you can tell Master Billy that it’s alright with me – as long as it doesn’t interfere with my use of you,” I told Jason.  “You are my slave-bitch, after all.”

“I’m definitely your slave bitch, Master,” Jason hastened to assure me.  “Thank you for allowing me to service Master Billy when he wants me to, Master.”

“You’re welcome, bitch,” I responded, not being able to keep a smile off my own face at Jason’s obvious happiness with my decision.

Billy clearly had made his peace with the idea that his former best friend was now a faggot fuck-bitch.  He was soon nailing Jason’s sweet cunt-hole 3 or 4 times every day.  Then, one day, after he’d been home about a week, Billy came into the living room and sat down beside me.  “Dad,” he said, “I want to ask you a favor.”

“Go right ahead, Billy,” I urged him.

“I’d like to have Jason spend the entire night with me tonight, if you’re okay with that,” he proposed.

I couldn’t help laughing.  “Hell, Billy,” I finally responded.  “You’ve sure come a long way from when you asked me NOT to bitch out Jason.”

“I know, dad,” Billy admitted ruefully.  “Looking back at it, I can see how foolish I was.  I guess that, deep down, I always kind of suspected that Jason might be a fag, but I didn’t want to face the reality of what that meant.  Now, I can understand that you bitching him out, turning Jason into your faggot slave-bitch, was not only exactly what he needed – it was the best thing in the world for him.  Now he’s free to live the life he was designed for – servicing Real Men with his mouth and his asspussy.  He’s free to be himself and also be of service to Real Men everywhere.   I understand why you bitched him out, dad.  And I’m grateful that you did.”

“Of course,” I added, “Jason’s not the only one who’s undergone an epiphany.  You seem to have, too, Billy.”

“You’re right, dad,” Billy conceded.  “I think part of it was that I was hung up on the idea that me fucking Jason would mean that I was a fag, too.  But seeing you in action that first time, the way you fucked Jason, pounding the crap out of his poor boytwat, making him squeal and shriek like a little girl, I finally understood that fucking a faggot no more makes you a faggot than fucking a girl makes you a girl.  It seems so obvious now, but it took me some time to get there.  Now, fucking Jason seems the most natural thing in the world – both for him and for me.  Which is kind of why I’d like to spend an entire night or two just fucking him.  I mean, he's a lot of fun to fuck, as I’m sure you’d agree.”

“Oh, Jason’s definitely fun to fuck – no denying that,” I readily agreed.  “And considering that he was your best friend, I’m willing to occasionally – occasionally, mind you – let him spend the entire night with you.  On one condition – that he return every morning at 6:00 a.m. sharp to take care of my morning wood and my morning piss.”

Billy looked at me sharply.  “Your morning piss?” he inquired.

I couldn’t help chuckling.  Young boys always think they were the first to discover sex and it was obvious that Billy, for all of his self-assurance, didn’t know everything about the care and training of faggot bitches.  It’s always fun to deflate a young stud’s self-confidence.  “Yes, Billy,” I replied with a smirk, “my piss.  You do realize, don’t you, that faggot fuck-slaves aren’t just cum-pits?  They’re human urinals, too.  Fuck, I haven’t used the commode to take a piss in in months.  I always piss down Jason’s throat.  Hell, you think it’s water in his bowl.  It’s piss, my piss.  I don’t want to brag, but I bet if you asked him, he now prefers my piss to water.  God knows he’s downed enough of it.  And he’s not beyond asking me to piss down his throat when he’s thirsty.”

Billy couldn’t keep from just gaping as he listened to me.  And, once again, I could see his boy-cock stirring in his pants.  Billy, though, tried to cover his obvious surprise.  “Yeah,” he insisted, “I knew that.  I just didn’t realize you were using Jason that way.”

“Well now you do,” was all I said, though I was laughing inside.  “You can have the little bitch tonight, as long as you make sure he’s back in my bedroom by 6:00 a.m., okay?”

“Yeah, no problem, dad,” Billy agreed.  “I’ll send Jason back to you no later than 6:00 a.m.”

And he did.  Jason stumbled into my bedroom about 5:45 a.m., looking beat to shit.  From the way he looked, and the way he was continuously farting Man-seed, it was obvious that Billy had been fucking him pretty much all night long.  And, when he opened his mouth to take my cum-load, the distinct smell of urine wafted out.  Obviously, Billy had learned something from his old man, though I was sure he’d never admit it.

I let Billy have Jason for an entire night once a week for the rest of his stay.  There was no question that Billy was particularly hard on Jason’s pussy during those all-night fuckathons but, not only did Jason never complain, I could tell he was more than happy to spread his legs for his former best friend.  It was probably something he’d wanted to do for years, though likely on an unconscious level, and, in a sense, it validated my entire training regimen.  He was a classic faggot bitch, and he was fulfilling his deepest, darkest desires, and finally living the life he was designed for.   Naturally, he was happy about all that.

And there was no question that, while Jason was definitely no longer Billy’s best friend, Billy was enamored of him in a totally different way.  So I wasn’t totally surprised when the time came for Billy to go back to school, he asked me if he could have Jason.  I scotched that idea right away.  “Sorry, Billy,” I told my son, “but the answer is a hard ‘No.’  I’m more than happy to share him with you when you’re home, but Jason’s my slave-bitch and I’m not about to part with him.  If you want a faggot slave-bitch, you should get your own.  You’re on a college campus and I’m sure there’s plenty of likely targets.  Hell, your roommate, Rog, sounds like a hot number and just from the way you talked about him, I got the vibe that you’re into him.  He seems like a prime target, if you ask me.”

“But Rog isn’t gay,” Billy complained.

“That’s what you said about Jason,” I retorted, “and see how that turned out.  To be honest, Billy, I just think you’re naturally attracted to closeted gay boys.  Jason was definitely not the only friend of yours that I got a real gay vibe from.  Without even meeting him, I’d be willing to bet money that Rog is just another faggot waiting to be bitched out.  And, having seen you in action with Jason, I’m sure you’re more than capable of doing just that.”

“You really think so, dad?” he asked.

“I don’t have the slightest doubt, son,” I said, purposefully feeding Billy’s confidence.

Billy sat there thinking a long time.  Finally, he looked up at me.  “You know, dad,” he confided, “I think you may be right about Rog.  Just like you were about Jason.  And I’m sure I’d like fucking Rog’s studly ass.  I’m sure of that.”

And, looking at the way Billy’s cock was, once again, tenting out his shorts, I was sure of that, too.  And, as things turned out, we were both right.