Owned By TJ

Chapter 1-1

But how could I think these things of TJ? How could I think he needed to inflate his ego when he was the star athlete of the school? He was popular and had numerous girlfriends and buds. He was known by everyone on campus as the all-star pitcher, the quarterback, the all-state wrestler. He didn’t need to bully wimps like me in order to make himself feel better. There had to be some other reason he was doing this.

Maybe my original fantasies of being his friend weren’t far-fetched after all.

Perhaps in the beginning he was trying to befriend me. He gave me an opportunity to do something for him, and in return he planned to be my friend. But then I disappointed him by failing. He couldn’t just ignore my failure, could he? If he just let it slide, what would I think of him? I’d no longer regard him as this powerful and heroic idol. When he first ordered me to do his homework for him, hadn’t that excited me?

Didn’t it thrill me to sit there night after night doing exactly what this hot jock had ordered me to do? Hadn’t I gotten a boner every time I thought about the control he had over me? I’d even jacked off sometimes because it turned me on so much! I couldn’t just throw away what I had with TJ.

My thoughts vacillated between submission and rebellion. Even though the rebellious thoughts still kept popping into my head, and even though I tried to reason with myself that I must make this madness end immediately, I knew in my heart I’d be going with TJ that afternoon. There was no way I could say no to him. I honestly didn’t want to. I wanted to be with him, even if it meant I’d be humiliated or possibly hurt. I wanted to please him. I wanted the attention that he was sure to shower upon me.

At three fifteen, I was standing beside his car, waiting patiently for him. He had a certain look in his eyes as he approached me, perhaps self-satisfaction. It was at that moment I knew for sure he had control over me, and he liked it.

As TJ slid behind the wheel and depressed the power lock button on the driver’s side panel a sinking feeling swept over me. I was trapped. I couldn’t turn back now even if I wanted to, and there was no one I could turn to for help. Captive of this jock bully, I was at his mercy for whatever he chose to dole out.

“Dude, you’re gonna have a lot a work to do tonight when you get home,” he said.

“You gotta get your homework caught up for government class and also do our homework for our next class.” He laughed as he glanced over at me. “And I’m not sure you’re gonna really be in much of a studying mood. You might have your mind on other things.”

I wondered if his warning was a veiled threat, and I instinctively reached for the door handle. He had already pulled out of the parking lot, though, and we were cruising down the road. Plus I wouldn’t have been able to open the door had I tried, because he had engaged the child locks.

As he drove through town, my heart pounded so loudly I thought it would beat right out of my chest. I also felt a lump in my throat, and worried I might start whimpering or crying, simply out of pure fear. When he pulled into his driveway, I didn’t even know we were at our destination since I’d never been to his home before.

I’d just assumed he stayed in the dorms. He hit the garage door remote and glided into his designated slot in the four-car garage. His was the only car there at that point, which led me to believe we were all alone. It wasn’t until he had the garage door completely closed that he unlocked my door and allowed me to get out.

TJ’s house seemed like a mansion compared to my parents’ home. As we stepped inside, he pointed to the basement steps and told me to go ahead. He followed behind me as I descended the staircase. Once in the basement, I looked around to see a huge family room. A large sectional sofa filled one corner of the room, facing an oversized flat screen television. The other side of the spacious room contained a pool table and bar with stools. TJ stepped in front of me and led the way to another open space which appeared to be a gym. TJ’s workout center featured a couple weight benches and all sorts of exercise equipment. I followed him to the left-hand side of the room, through a door. He glanced back to make sure I was behind him, then opened the door and stepped into his bedroom.

“Nice house,” I said, but TJ completely ignored my compliment.

“Take your pants off, fag,” he ordered. He spoke in a casual tone as if offering me a seat or something to drink.

Taken aback, I stammered. “Um, why … um, why do you want me to take off—”

“Take your fuckin’ pants off now, fag!”

I reached down to unbutton my khakis.

“Leave your faggy underwear on though.” He stood there in front of me, as if inspecting me, watching as I nervously unbuttoned and unzipped my pants. I began to tremble, hoping he didn’t notice.

I hurriedly toed off my shoes and stepped out of my pants, sensing his impatience, and stood there in front of him. He grabbed the pants from me and tossed them on the floor.

“Now stand at the edge of the bed and bend over,” he said.

I wasn’t exactly sure what he was planning to do, but I suddenly suspected that he was going to spank me. I felt a bit of relief at the idea, having feared a punishment far worse. I  could handle a spanking. Sure, it would be embarrassing, but at least there were no witnesses and it would be over in a short while. As I bent over the bed and assumed my position, I finally started to breathe a little easier. Just then TJ stepped behind me and grabbed each of my arms, quickly pulling them behind my back. I heard a click and felt the coldness of metal cuffs as they locked my wrists together securely behind my back. Then in one smooth, effortless movement, TJ thrust me forward, bending me at the waist, so I fell onto the bed in front of me.

“When I say bend over, I mean all the fuckin’-way over, faggot!” he said. “Now stay there and don’t fuckin’ move!”

I lay there on the bed for the next few moments, hearing him behind me as he opened the closet door. I had no idea what he was retrieving, perhaps a belt or a paddle. When he returned, he grabbed my left leg and cuffed it to the bedpost. He did the same with my other leg so they were stretched wide apart. The restraints immobilized me and locked me into a rather uncomfortable position. No matter how hard I tried, I wouldn’t be able to stand up.

TJ stepped around the side of the bed so I was able to see him when I turned my head. He stood there, towering over me, holding a large wooden paddle in his hand. He held it up for me to examine, turning it slowly in front of my face so I could see the two air holes carved into it.

“The holes reduce the wind resistance,” he explained. “That way I can deliver a much more powerful swat!” He laughed. “This was one of my shop projects in high school, and you’re gonna be the first victim I use it on. I’ve been looking forward to it.”

He grinned down at me. “Now, do you have anything to say for yourself before I begin, fag?” he asked.  

I shook my head slightly, managing to eke out a respectful “No, sir.”

“Well, think about it, and I’ll ask you again in a few minutes. When you come up with the right response, your punishment will be over, but not until then!”

TJ resumed his position behind me, and I braced myself, knowing the first blow would surely be a shock. In all honesty, though, I didn’t even begin to anticipate what was in store for me. The first swat TJ delivered to my defenseless, brief-clad ass was so forceful it literally lifted my body upward, off the bed. My ankles were securely cuffed to the bedrails so I didn’t go anywhere. I felt the searing pain of the blow against my ass and gritted my teeth. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and tried not to react at all to the pain, but before I knew it, TJ delivered a second blow. He didn’t even allow enough time for the pain to abate before whacking me a third time, the blow even more stinging than the first two. The third was followed immediately by a fourth, then a fifth and a sixth.

On the seventh blow, I finally let out a cry, whimpering from the horrific pain. I squirmed against the mattress, trying to free myself from the imprisonment, though my attempts were of course, futile.

“f**k yeah!” I heard TJ say. “How’s that feel, faggot?” TJ then threw the paddle down on the bed beside my face and grabbed hold of the waistband of my briefs.

“Gonna take these fuckers off after all,” he said. “Gotta see how red your ass is getting.” 

He jerked hard against my briefs and pulled them down as far as they would go down my thighs. Then he jerked real hard and I felt the fabric of my underwear tearing. I heard the sound of him rending the material as he forcefully ripped them off my body.

“Already beet red, faggot,” TJ bragged. “Got anything to say yet?”

“I’m sorry!” I cried. “I’m so sorry, sir!”

“Well that’s good for starters, fag, but not the words I’m waiting to hear.” He then picked up the paddle and stepped back into position. I could hear the whooshing sound before it even connected with my now-bare ass. Oh my god! It was so much worse than the first seven blows. The short respite he’d allowed me only made the pain worse, and now I didn’t even have the thin layer of fabric from my underwear to offer any protection.

TJ seemed glad he’d removed my underwear, and he laughed at the sound of the wooden paddle smacking against my bare skin. He mercilessly continued to deliver blow after blow to my exposed, upraised ass, and as he did so I began to cry. Each and every time he connected with the paddle I cried out in agonizing pain, having never before experienced anything so horrendous. When he finally stopped a second time, having swatted me at least a couple dozen times, I couldn’t even breathe. I sobbed so loudly I couldn’t catch my breath.

TJ again stepped over to the side of me. “Well, fag, got anything else to say?”

“Oh god, please, sir, I beg you! I’m so sorry!”

TJ stared down at me, grinning evilly. “And?”

“And… um…” I let out another sob. My voice cracked as I whimpered, trying so desperately to control myself. “And I’ll do anything for you. I’ll never disobey you again…”

“That’s right, fag,” he said. “And why is that?”

I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to add. Terrified if I did not come up with the right answer he’d resume the beating, I again pleaded with him. “Please, sir!” I cried. “I don’t know…”

“All right, guess you need more time to think.” He then resumed his disciplinary position.

“No!” I cried, pleading with him not to continue. He ignored me and started with the third session of spankings. This time he seemed really pissed as he attacked my ass with a vengeance. Blow after forceful blow rained down upon me with relentless force.

In addition to the horrific pain in my ass and thighs, I also felt the metal of the ankle cuffs against my legs. I’d been unconsciously pulling against them, inflicting even greater pain upon myself.

He ignored both my pain and my sobs as he continued with the discipline. This time he didn’t stop or even slow down until he had delivered over thirty swats. Finally winded for the first time, he rested. He’d worked up a sweat from swinging the paddle.

“Why must you obey me, fag?” he asked me again. “Say it!”

“Because… sir…” I was sobbing. “Because… you… own… me…”

“f**k yeah! Right answer!!” he said, and as if for a reward, he delivered one more powerful blow to my rear. “I own your faggot ass, and you know it! That’s why you do my homework for me. That’s why you eat my snot. That’s why you come to my house so I can punish you. That’s why you’re gonna do every fuckin’ thing I tell you from now on! Ain’t that right, fag?”

“Yes, sir,” I cried, pressing my tear-streaked face against the mattress.

“Fuckin’ a!” he said. “I own your wimpy faggot ass.” Then he stepped over to the side of the bed, this time tossing the paddle down on the floor. A wave of relief washed over me, and I expected him to then un-cuff me and let me up. He didn’t, though.

Instead he climbed onto the bed in front of me, reclined with his crotch near my face, propping two pillows behind him.

He moved his legs down on either side of my body, sliding comfortably into a relaxed position then spread his legs apart so my shoulders were between his thighs. As I tried to gather the strength to look up at him, I could see only the bulge of his hard-on stretching the fabric of his athletic pants. He picked up the remains of my torn underwear and

used it to wipe off my face, then cupped my chin in his hand, forcing me to crane my neck backwards as he wiped the tears from my cheeks and the drool off my chin. He casually tossed the underwear rag to the floor and continued to hold my head in his hands, looking directly into my eyes.

I looked up at him, seeing him for the very first time in this position of absolute dominance. Here I was, lying defenseless on my belly, my ankles shackled to the bedposts and my wrists cuffed painfully behind my back. My ass had been beaten to the point I probably wouldn’t be able to sit on it for a week, and he lay there comfortably with his crotch in my face, staring down at the pathetic-looking wimp that I was. Surely he must have realized the complete power that he held over me. Certainly he must have seen my utter helplessness and my pain. And by the look of his rock hard prick, he definitely enjoyed what he saw.

TJ’s grip on my head tightened as he pushed me down into his lap, grinding my face into his bulge. “Kiss it, fag!” he ordered me. “Kiss my jock c**k like you’ve been wanting to all along.”

“Sir!” I tried to protest, my voice muffled. He allowed me to speak briefly, though, pulling my head slightly away from his hard-on. “Sir, I’m not really a fag. Honest… I’m not!” Somehow I had to communicate to TJ that I wasn’t gay so he wouldn’t make me act like I was. It was horrible enough to be lying here nearly naked in front of him, but now to add insult to injury, he was making me kiss his d**k. What if he made me do more than that? What if he thought I really was a fag and made me give him oral s*x or something? What if he – I couldn’t even think of it!

TJ continued to look at me and smiled. “You are what I say you are, fag,” he stated with confidence. “And after you get my c**k in your mouth, there’s gonna be no way for you to deny that you’re the fag I always knew you were.”

Hearing this statement for the first time caused me to panic, and I immediately began to squirm, trying desperately to pull myself away from him. I tried to jerk my head out of his grasp and flailed against the mattress in an attempt to pull myself into an upright position. Though I strained with all my might to free myself, of course, my efforts were pointless, and TJ just continued to sit there unfazed, holding my head in place.

“Get used to it, fag,” TJ said. “You won’t be going anywhere for a while.”

The terror overwhelmed me, and I began to again cry. “Please, Please, TJ… Please don’t do this!”

He ignored me and pushed my face back down into his crotch. I felt the vise-like grip of his hands on my head as he rubbed my mouth back and forth across the outline of his huge prick. It seemed my squirming must’ve turned him on because he was now harder than ever. The fabric of his pants stretched tightly around his d**k, outlining an enormous rock-hard boner.

In my state of panic, I thought about screaming for help. Maybe there was an open window somewhere. Maybe TJ’s parents would be home soon and hear me. If I could just get someone to hear, then maybe I’d be rescued before it was too late. I took a deep breath and jerked my head back, then cried out as loud as I could, “Help me! Somebody please help me!”

TJ released my head and laughed hysterically. “Go ahead, fag, scream all you want.

Let it out. No one’s gonna hear you. We’re in a soundproofed basement, and nobody’s home.”

Exhausted and terrified, I went silent, relaxing my neck and pressing my own face back down into TJ’s crotch. I laid my cheek against his thigh and pressed my lips onto the outline of his c**k, using his leg as a sort of pillow for my head.

“That’s it faggot,” he said. “Kiss it.”

I had no choice. I had to do as he said, and so I obeyed him. I puckered my lips slightly and softly kissed his boner.

“You know you like it, fag. You know you’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

Oddly, even though I was so terribly humiliated and still in pain, I knew his words were true. All those nights I lay in bed jacking myself off while thinking of TJ were proof that I was gay, just like TJ said. With my head in his lap, kissing his jock c**k, I knew it with absolute certainty. I felt my own erection pressing against the mattress beneath me.

TJ was wearing basketball pants which unbuttoned from the sides, and as I kissed his bulge, he reached down and unsnapped the buttons. He simultaneously unbuttoned both sides and with little effort pulled the two sections of the pants apart, unsnapping them all the way down to the ankles. He then used his palm to push my forehead back, and pulled the front section of his pants off from himself, tossing it on the floor beside him. I stared right at his bulge and saw his jockstrap for the first time. The pouch was wet from his sweat and precum.

“Look at it fag,” he said. “Take a good look at my hard c**k. Here, I’ll get it out for you.” He reached down with one hand and pulled the side of his jockstrap around his bulge, tucking it into the crevice between his thigh and balls. His huge prick, at last free, snapped to attention in front of my face. “Kiss it!” He shoved my face back down and forced me to press my lips against his nine-inch hard-on.

I’d never touched another person’s d**k, and suddenly I was doing so not with my hands, but my lips. I smelled his musky scent as I reverently kissed his prick. The skin felt smooth against my lips, and I was so close to him that I could see every ridge and every vein. Slowly I kissed him while my pulse quickened. I was experiencing a mixture of feelings: humiliation, panic, fear. But at the same time I felt excited, and my c**k throbbed beneath me. I’m kissing TJ’s c**k! “That’s right faggot, worship it. Lick it.”

I wasn’t sure that I could do it, even though I’d secretly been fantasizing about TJ

for a long time. How far did TJ plan to take this? What if he didn’t ever let me go? What if he kept me his prisoner for days and forced me to be his s*x slave as he continued to torture and humiliate me?

I almost started crying again but steeled myself and took control of my emotions. I stuck my tongue out and slowly licked his shaft, just as he’d ordered. The lack of taste surprised me—it was just skin, after all. I ran my tongue back and forth along the underside of his hard prick, carefully avoiding the pool of precum that was oozing down the shaft. “Lick it up!” TJ ordered, as if again being able to read my mind.

I obeyed reluctantly, and tasted TJ’s c*m for the first time. Bitter and slightly salty, it didn’t repulse me. I lapped it up as he leaned back against the pillows and clasped his hands behind his head.

“Think I’ll watch some TV while you worship my cock.” He picked up a remote off the bedside stand and used it to turn on a television behind me.

“Lick my nuts, fag,” TJ ordered as he surfed the TV channels. “Lick the sweat off my balls.”

Again I obeyed his command and slid my tongue all the way down the shaft, then laved his nutsac. I felt his hand press against the back of my head, and he forcefully ground my nose into his pubes. “Lick those fuckin’ nuts, faggot!” he repeated. “Feels good.”

My tongue darted back and forth across TJ’s balls, causing his c**k to throb. He reached down and grabbed it by the base, then used it to slap me. He smacked his c**k repeatedly against the side of my face as I continued to lick on his nuts. “Oh yeah, feels real good.” Suddenly, without further warning, TJ dropped the remote and grabbed hold of both sides of my head. He pulled me up so that I was looking into his face.

“Better get ready, faggot.” He sneered. “’Cause I’m slidin’ it in, and you better open wide so you don’t scrape me with your teeth. I’m warning you, if you do, you’re getting another ass-beating, even worse than the first one.”

I just stared at him, wide-eyed, feeling as if I were in the middle of a horrible nightmare. How could this be happening? He was about to shove his c**k into my mouth and I could  do nothing to resist. I knew I had to open my mouth for him and allow it to happen. What other choice did I have? I squeezed my eyes tightly shut to fend off my tears. I opened my mouth as he pushed my head toward his boner. When the bulbous cockhead first made contact with my tongue, I wrapped my lips around it and began to suck. Hopefully he would allow me to just suck the very tip of it and not force me down any further. I knew I’d probably choke if I tried to get the entire thing into my mouth.

“That’s it, faggot,” TJ said. “Suck it good.”

I could taste the distinct flavor of TJ’s precum as I started to suck the end of his c**k shaft. I heard him moan softly. He obviously enjoyed the feeling, so I sucked a little harder, hoping that if I just did a good job and got it over with, he’d let me go. I inched my way a little farther down his shaft, and as I did so, his hands gripped my head tighter.

He forced me down even more, and when I felt the head of his c**k reach the back of my tongue, I tried to crank my jaw wider in order to inhale. He immediately seized the opportunity to slide into me further, and quickly thrust me down onto his shaft. I tried to pull away from him, realizing that I was going to gag. My attempt was pointless, for he held me in place with vise-like strength. Though I retched and gagged uncontrollably, TJ showed no mercy. He didn’t even let me take a breath, but instead held my head in place and laughed. “Gag on it, b***h!”

His c**k was slimy and wet from my saliva, but he didn’t seem to mind. The slipperiness served as an excellent lubricant as he pulled me up a little ways on his shaft and then quickly rammed me back down. I kept my jaw open as wide as I could, fearing an accidental scrape of his shaft with my teeth. I wrapped my lips completely around my teeth so they’d make no contact with his c**k. He started rhythmically pumping, forcing me all the way down, then bringing me back up. With each thrust he increased the speed, and several times I gagged when his cockhead slammed down my throat.

As his pumping intensified, I was no longer sucking TJ’s c**k. Instead he was merely using my mouth as a hole for him to jack off into. He was skull-f*****g me. I could no longer breathe normally, but somehow managed to suck in quick breaths through my nose on the upstrokes. As he got more into it, he shortened the lengths of the strokes, keeping his c**k buried farther in my throat.

His thrusts made me gag several more times, and I feared I might puke. But I knew if I lost control he’d be furious, so I concentrated on suppressing my gag reflex. This was nearly impossible as he quickened his pace and thrust me up and down on his shaft mercilessly. My jaw was aching and my legs were killing me. My arms hurt from being cinched tightly behind my back, and worst of all, my ass still stung from the paddling. But on top of all that, TJ continued to pound my throat. Tears streamed down my cheeks as he vigorously pumped me up and down on his shaft.

Obviously he was in no pain. He was enjoying every millisecond of my torture. I heard him moan and saw the look of satisfaction in his eyes the few brief seconds I glanced up at his face. “f**k yeah, choke on it, you cocksuckin’ b***h,” he said as he pushed me all the way down his shaft. He held me there and thrust his hips upward, jabbing my throat violently with quick staccato movements. This brought upon another fit of gagging, and I was all but certain I would vomit.

He quickly slid me back up his shaft, and although I did not hurl, I continued to gag. He gave me scant chance to  recover before sliding me back down and repeating the violent assault on my throat. The sounds he was making were a combination of insidious laughter and pleasurable moaning. His grip on my head never loosened, and as he continued to rape my throat, he seemed to be enjoying himself more and more.

“Keep your tongue pressed against my shaft,” he ordered. “I wanna feel it with every down-stroke!”

He held my head tightly in his hands and jacked me up and down. I was nothing more to him than a handheld p***y. He acted as if he was lying there alone in his bed beating off. Only he was using my skull to pump his d**k instead of the palm of his hand. He probably enjoyed both the warm, wet feel of my virgin mouth and the thrill of power he felt as he continued to use me.

“I’m close!” he yelled. “I’m gonna drain it right down your cocksuckin’ throat!” His warning frightened me and, once again out of reflex, I tried to pull away from him. This didn’t deter him in the least, and he pressed forcefully against my head, ramming me all the way down his shaft. His grip tightened as he ground my nose into his pubes. I felt the thrust  of his hips as he bucked his pelvis, all the while holding me firmly in place. He couldn’t have gotten his c**k any deeper into me if he tried. “f**k yeah!” he cried out, and then I felt the pulsing of his c**k against my tongue. His c*m load fired into his shaft. I started to choke and tried once more to pull back a little. He released his load into me like a volcanic eruption, and his seed instantly flooded my throat. At first I didn’t taste anything and tried to gulp as quickly as possible. Then as the cumload began to back up into my mouth, the bleachy bitterness stung my tongue. I had no choice but to continue gulping, sucking down huge quantities of his creamy c*m.

“Unghhh! f**k yeah, take my load you faggot b***h!” His orders were unnecessary, for I had no choice in the matter. I was totally defenseless.

He kept himself buried inside me until he was totally finished, and then he slowly pulled me up his c**k. “Look at me, fag,” he said while still holding my head on  his c**k. “I own you, and don’t fuckin’ forget it!” Then he pushed me back down his shaft and held me there, apparently enjoying the warmth of my mouth. I continued to suck on him, gulping down my own saliva along with his thick c*m. His c**k remained rigid in my mouth and didn’t even begin to soften for a good five minutes after he’d drained himself.

I knew from jacking off that after experiencing an orgasm, my immediate inclination was to simply relax. Often I jacked off before falling asleep, and it felt so good to simply lie back in a relaxed state afterward and doze off. TJ was probably experiencing that same relaxed feeling, that post-coital bliss. Although it truly had nothing to do with me, it sort of felt intimate to simply lie there with him still in my mouth. In spite of the fact I was in pain and had been humiliated, I somehow felt a sense of accomplishment for satisfying him. I  lay there sucking on his softening c**k, tears streaming down my cheeks from the mixture of emotions I felt. I truly wanted this to be over. I prayed he’d let me up now, but on the  other hand I felt a warm and calming sense of gratification.

Perhaps the rush of testosterone TJ felt while slamming my head up and down on his c**k had caused him to experience this placidness after his orgasm. That adrenaline rush was a major high to come down from. That’s probably why he just lay there so long. However, in my naïve and impressionable mindset, I mistook this calmness for tenderness. I felt so intimate just lying there holding him in my mouth.

When TJ finally did rouse from his state of relaxation, I was jolted back to reality.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and jerked me off his c**k, abruptly swung his leg in front of me, and slid off the bed. He dropped me carelessly as he stood up, and then exited the room. A couple minutes later I heard water running and knew he was in the bathroom cleaning up. He had just gone and left me lying there, still in my restraints.

When he returned he was naked and dripping wet, clutching the jockstrap he’d been wearing when I sucked him. He leaned over the bed, bending down to lower himself to my level. Holding the sweaty jockstrap right in front of my face, he said, “Here’s a souvenir for you, fag.” He shoved it toward my mouth, and I opened obediently as he used his middle finger to stuff it in. Then he walked over to the dresser and removed some clothes and got dressed, all the while making no mention of unshackling me.

Finally, after fixing his hair for a few minutes in front of the mirror, he strolled over to stand behind me. He laughed. “f**k, dude, your ass is beet red! I really did a number on you. Bet you won’t wanna sit down for awhile.” Then he wound up his arm and smacked my bare ass with his open palm. I bit down hard on the sweaty jockstrap, moaning in pain. I could taste the distinctly stringent and musky flavor as I gulped down saliva. I suddenly started to feel nauseated, fearing I finally was going to actually hurl.

The feeling washed over me and was quickly replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief when I felt TJ unlocking the ankle cuffs. Although the restraints hadn’t been particularly tight, my own flailing and resistance had caused me enormous pain. My hamstring muscles burned from being stretched so long, and although I was finally free to move, I wasn’t even sure I could. My body slumped forward, exhausted from the torture it had just endured. With my hands still clasped securely behind my back and my mouth stuffed with TJ’s sweaty jock, I buried my face in the mattress and silently wept. I’d never encountered such brutality. I’d never before felt so humiliated and violated.

It then occurred to me that this bully who stood beside me—the one who had just beaten and raped me—must be one of the most cold-hearted people to have ever existed. How  could he victimize a defenseless person such as me, especially with me being so much weaker? His actions demonstrated that perhaps he was void of any conscience. He lacked compassion and seemed to revel in the suffering of others.

I felt so ashamed. Before this incident, I would’ve been mortified to even be naked around a guy like TJ, and now here I was stripped down, wearing only my tee shirt and socks, soaking wet with sweat and tears, my ankles throbbing and my throat raw from the violent assault. My buttocks and thighs were blistered and red, and my chin was sticky and wet from a mixture of my own drool and TJ’s semen. Even my scalp hurt from where TJ had jerked my hair, and my shoulders were throbbing from the way my arms were pulled back mercilessly behind my back. Truly this was the worst nightmare of my life. How could it have happened? How could any of this be real?

Then as if to add insult to injury, TJ addressed me. “Roll over,” he ordered, “there’s something I want you to see.” Fear of continued abuse motivated me to obey, and I did exactly as he said, finally exposing myself completely to him. He stared down at my groin and laughed, seeing my p***s for the first time. “Wow, you might as well be a fuckin’ chick with a pecker that small,” he laughed.

He uncrossed his arms and grinned down at me smugly. Holding up his hand for me to see, he revealed the remote control he’d used earlier to turn on the television. “Look around the room, fag,” he said. “Look at the corner over there, right above the TV.” My eyes followed the invisible line of his finger and I spotted the object which he was pointing out to me. It was a camera. TJ smiled. “There’s another one behind you, above the bed,” he stated. “See, my dad owns a chain of convenience stores, and when he closed one a couple months ago, I was able to snag the security cameras. I got the whole system. I’ll show ya. Bet you’ll find it entertaining.”

He held the remote up and pointed it at the TV. With a single click the image suddenly went to a split screen, displaying four smaller screens simultaneously. “This is the live feed,” he explained. “See yourself?” I stared at the television in disbelief, seeing my own naked body stretched out on the bed. I moved my head slightly and watched the screen for confirmation that it was indeed a live broadcast.

“See, there are two other cameras. One of them is at the base of the staircase so I can see if anyone’s coming downstairs. The fourth one is in that family room in  the corner above the sofa. They’re running 24/7, but they only record when I want them to.

That’s what I was doing with the remote when you were lickin’ my nuts. I just had to have that on film!”

My eyes widened as I stared up at TJ, realizing suddenly I’d just been videotaped with another guy’s c**k in my mouth.

“It’s really cool ’cause there’s an awesome zoom feature with this system. Wanna see a close-up?” Of course I couldn’t answer him with my mouth still gagged, but even if I had, I doubted my desires would have mattered to him. He rewound the tape and queued it to the desired location. When he started playing it full screen, I felt an ache in the pit of my stomach. He zoomed into my face, and I saw myself licking his scrotum. I saw his hands on my head as he slid me up and down his shaft. I stared up at the screen, feeling my face reddening in humiliation as I witnessed my own mouth wrapping around his cockhead.

He switched over to the other camera. It showed a view of the entire bed and TJ

was lying on it comfortably with me stretched out between his legs. I could see in full-color my beet-red ass where he’d whipped me. He zoomed the picture to himself, displaying a full-screen image of him holding my head in his hands. I saw the look of satisfaction on his face when he first forced me all the way down on his c**k. I saw him tightening his grip as I tried pulling my neck back. I saw him smile and then laugh when I began gagging. Then I saw him pumping me on his shaft.

“f**k yeah!” TJ exclaimed. “This is fuckin’ hot! Dude, you’re a porn star!” TJ

clearly enjoyed seeing himself on film. His power and control over me obviously turned him on, and to my   surprise, it was having a bit of an effect upon me. When TJ noticed I was getting hard, he laughed again.

“That turn ya on, fag?” he asked. “You like seeing yourself with a jock’s c**k in your mouth?”

In truth, seeing myself wasn’t the factor that aroused me. The thing causing me to get hard was TJ. Seeing his power, his obvious pleasure, his shear masculinity—the image was mind-blowing. When the film reached the point where TJ drained his load, my c**k throbbed. He was like a dominant god being worshipped by a pathetic inferior.

His powerful release of masculine seed into my throat was the ultimate proof of his superiority! I almost came myself just from watching the replay.

“Fag, this is awesome,” he said. “I guarantee you I’m gonna be watchin’ this film a zillion times. And we’re gonna be makin’ a lot more, too. This is only the beginning!”

When he dropped me off at my house that night, he insisted on coming in with me.

He instructed me to introduce him to my parents and convince them he was my new best friend. My mom seemed to adore TJ and told me so as soon as he’d left.

“Jason, I’m so glad you have such a nice friend. You’ve been such a loner for so long. Maybe you two will be spending a lot of time together.” If she only knew the half of it!  

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