The week was routine, if you could consider my life routine as a total bottom at only age 17. A life that involved me wearing a cum soaked jockstrap 24/7 and a butt plug in my ass under my school uniform around boys who would probably have beaten me if they suspected I was gay (let alone knew how much of an active bottom bitch I had become).
The things I took for routine were probably things most open gay adults would never consider and certainly beyond the comprehension of my schoolmates.
That week I showered at weird times on Saturday and Sunday "as usual" so no one would see my red arse which I now took as normal.
I slipped into the last bathroom stall in the senior school locker-room with my school bag before changing for sports every day (on days I had gym I would do this twice) to remove the butt plug and stow it in the bag to be replaced in the same stall when sports or gym was over. This stall I thought of as my second home. It was here where I douched on Saturday before I went to Brian's and here where Robert face fucked me. And face fuck me he did?.
Robert became more daring and demanding that week. Three times over the course of the week - Monday, Wednesday and again Thursday - he had me meet him in that stall in the senior locker-room after dinner, 15 minutes before he had to be in prep.
I would wait in the stall on the toilet with the door closed, but not locked, and when he would open the stall door I would quietly slip to my knees as he closed the door, locked it and undid his pants.
The first time (on Monday) I tried to undo his pants when he arrived and he pushed my hands away so from then on I simply knelt there waiting for him to free his cock and shove it into my open waiting mouth.
Robert would then proceed to take hold of my head and fuck my mouth and throat at a fairly fast pace.
Kneeling there I fought my gag reflex and let him use my mouth and throat as he wanted. I tried not to gag as unlike Saturday morning there was a greater chance someone would be in the locker-room in the evening during the week. But most of all I fought the instinct to gag to give Rob pleasure.
He didn't seem to mind my putting my hands on his ass as he fucked my mouth; and I knew better to try to influence his speed by holding his hips (I just wanted to hold his ass as he fucked my mouth).
About a minute before he had to be in the prep hall (a classroom where all the grade 9 & 10 boarders did their homework under the supervision of a teacher or prefect) he would pull his cock from my mouth and jack it for the remaining strokes he needed to bring himself off, shooting his cum all over my face.
As there was an hour between dinner and prep, and it never took more than half an hour for dinner to be finished, he could have had me meet him earlier and taken his time fucking my mouth. Or he could have let me suck him off and do all the work myself (though there was the risk we could be caught the longer we spent in that stall). Or he could have fucked my mouth harder as we ran out of time and cum down my throat.
The fact Robert liked to meet at 15 minutes before prep and fuck my mouth in steady strokes and then jack himself as fast as he needed to cum at the last moment meant, first, my mouth was peripheral to his orgasm (compared to my being on my knees a willing participant) and, second, coming on my face by his own hand was the humiliation - my humiliation - that he wanted or needed for release.
I had become my worst fear when this all began: one of the sluts he used to get off.
For my part I was a willing participant. I liked him using my mouth and throat which is why I had agreed to take greater risk by meeting him on a school night three times during that week.
I might be getting more comfortable with being a bottom bitch, but I hadn't forgotten where I was. You can't survive in a private boys boarding school if people think you have gay tendencies and the risks I was taking would not only get me ostracised, or beaten, but some of my choices could get me expelled.
And it wasn't just him fucking my face I liked. I definitely liked him cumming on my face.
This week I didn't orgasm without touching myself the way I had the previous Saturday when he came on my face, but I was hard even before he arrived in the bathroom stall and was leaking precum throughout and came close to orgasm when those shots of cum hit my mouth, my eyes, up my nose, and into my hair.
Boy the boy could produce cum, given that he was using me three times a week and for all I knew was jacking off and still using his girl sluts for release in addition to me.
For my part, I not only didn't cum when Robert came on my face, I didn't jack off during the week because the butt plug would have been intolerable once I came. Though at night on those three days he used my mouth and came on my face I went to sleep trying to recall every second I had spent on my knees in front of him. Picturing his young compact physique, his hard cock and balls, every contour of which I could imagine as it scraped against my tongue and tonsils, his pubes against my nose, my hands on his firm ass, his blue briefs and pants around his ankles, even the toilet stall, the cold porcelain of the toilet bowl pressed against my back as he fucked my head, the mix of gym smell of sweat from that day and cleaning fluid from night that lingered in the air, were all part of my memories as I drifted off to sleep.
The other nights I fell asleep thinking of Brian. I would start by thinking of Brian's cock. Though that week I would end up thinking of Brian's four fingers inside my ass and how close I came to cumming. Damn, I had started by hating his working my ass with his fingers and now I was missing it. Sometimes I would also think of Brian slapping or spanking my ass. By the time I dozed off, my mind was scrolling through multiple images of me and Brian, his fingers and cock in my ass, his spanking me and him putting me down as a worthless fat piece of shit blissful in knowing that he was paying attention to me and was kind enough to use me so many different sexual ways, exploding my world.
It may have seemed like a pitiful existence but I was in heaven. Sure I was starting to do badly in school and had alienated all of my friends by being so distant and inattentive. Sure I had lost Robert as a friend (though I now had Robert's cum in my belly regularly). But I was happily and nervously looking forward to Saturday, wondering what my punishment would be and 'when' (no longer 'if') he would go back to fucking me.
When Saturday rolled around, I went and douched myself in 'my' stall in the locker-room bathroom. I even took a shower in the locker-room shower so I was clean outside and in. And then I put in my butt plug, pulled on Brian's cousin's tight jockstrap which was now my real 'uniform', dressed in my Saturday casual clothes (cords and a polo shirt) and headed for Brian's.
When I let myself in and climbed the stairs I found Brian in the TV room sitting on the couch in a housecoat with the bottle of lube in his hand.
I was so surprised that this made me pause for a second; only a second.
My heart started to beat fast hoping beyond hope that this meant I was going to get fucked.
Quickly, not wanting to jinx it, I moved to the centre of the room, stripped to the jock and assumed the position, hands on top of my head and legs spread.
Brian got up from the couch without speaking a word and came around me and knelt.
Kneeling behind me he removed the butt plug.
He put some lube on the fingers of his left hand (not his right like last week) and began, starting with two fingers, applying it to my hole.
His two fingers worked around the hole and gently worked into it, going around the pucker just inside before working deeper.
Brian worked my hole in a circular fashion for a while and every so often, when I didn't think he could see, I stole a look back to his lap and I could see his cock hard under his housecoat.
I was going to get fucked!!
The more he worked my hole and the more I glanced surreptitiously back at his enormous cock pushing his housecoat way above his lap and the hornier he seemed the hornier I became.
He must have worked my hole with his two fingers for a good fifteen minutes, and I could feel my hole stretching. This confused me as he had told me he liked me tight. Yet there was his big cock under his housecoat hard in anticipation.
I WAS GOING TO GET FUCKED!
When Brian removed his fingers I couldn't help myself, I looked back fully. As I did I saw Brian apply lube to all five fingers which he held up pointed towards the ceiling.
My heart, which was already pounding in anticipation of being fucked by the cock I desperately needed in my ass, skipped a beat.
He was planning on putting five fingers - his hole hand - in me!!!!
There was a word for this, what was it?
My mind raced.
Panic took over and I thought about protesting, or better yet fleeing.
I was so overwhelmed that I forgot I wasn't to look back and not only was I looking back, but I was staring at him applying lube to his hand. Brian didn't seem to care or notice.
Brian looked like a man (well boy) with a mission.
Staring back at his lubed fingers as he knelt behind me I watched him undo his housecoat and saw the object of desire of every fibre in my being, his massive cock in all its glory. He shucked off the housecoat and naked he began stroking his cock with his right hand as his lubed left hand, fingers pointed, moved slowly towards my ass.
I say slowly but the truth is I had no concept of time.
When I looked to those fingers they seemed to move in slow motion toward my hole, and when I looked at his right hand it was equally moving slowly up and down on his mammoth cock. They seemed to move in time to my heart, which seconds before I had thought was racing but now everything was going so slow.
Brian was going to? going to? FIST ME (that was the word, how did I know that? why did I care what it was called? what I did care about was he seemed turned on by the idea of fisting me? his cock was so hard and he was STROKING HIMSELF while looking at MY ASS).
I wanted to make him happy and, oh my fucking god, there was that huge cock of his!
As his pointed fingers began to push into my hole I surprised myself and didn't tense but rather pushed back against him.
The five fingers slid into my hole and as they did time changed. It returned to normal and then sped-up.
Suddenly my mind blocked out everything but the feeling in my ass as I felt his fingers enter me and stretch my hole.
I LIKED IT.
Damn did I like it!
As he shoved his fingers in I could feel my cock, which hadn't had any release for a week and had been hard since I walked up the stairs and saw him in a bathrobe, begin to unload in my jockstrap.
My knees began to buckle.
If his hand hadn't been pushing up into my ass I would not have stayed upright.
Brian sank his fingers deeper into my hole as I shot again and again into my jockstrap.
The more his fingers burrowed into me the more I came.
I only stopped cumming when I felt Brian's fingers pull back out of my ass.
In fact, I only regained consciousness when I stopped cumming and when his fingers were fully out of me was only when I had the presence of mind to look back again and there was Brian, kneeling naked, his cum all over the hardwood floor.
I had been so turned on by him blush fisting me I forgot to even watch him stroke his cock.
And he had jacked himself off over fisting my ass? MY ASS? I had turned him on so much he came and came as quickly as I had.
For a second I felt guilty for being too busy cumming from the pleasure of all of his fingers being shoved into my ass that I hadn't even noticed his needs. But I had fulfilled his needs. The evidence was on the floor.
Brian had cum because of my ass!!!!
Brian got up and went to the washroom and, before closing the door, said "get out".
I quickly focussed, which was no small feat to do as I had just had the biggest orgasm in my life (Brian was giving me those a lot more than I thought possible and in ways I would have never imagined).
I put the butt plug in my ass. It didn't even feel like it was going in. That made me wonder how far his hand had gone into me (to the knuckles, beyond the knuckles?).
My hole felt so stretched but I had no time to wonder how stretched as I didn't want to be there when Brian came out of the bathroom and ruin what was a great experience fpr both of us.
In fact, it was such a great experience that I briefly lost sight of my goal, which was to get him to resume fucking me, but a quick glance at the cum on the floor brought my priorities back into line.
He had given me pleasure and I had turned him on and I was not going to mess this up. It was only a matter of time before he began fucking me again.
I needed to get out of there before he regretted any moment.
Ok, I did take a second to get down on my hands and knees and lick up some of his cum from the floor. But I was quick.
Pulling on my clothes I leapt down the stairs and out the house and ran until I hit the park where I stopped and sat on a bench and tried to store everything that had just happened in my long term memory.
The sight of Brian in a housecoat. Brian naked. Yea, Brian naked?
God Brian was so fucking hot (so lean and blond and tall and smooth).
Brian's big cock (Oh my fucking God, that is the biggest cock in the school and it had been in my ass and probably will be again!).
Brian stroking (this boy who I don't deserve to have talk to me had been naked kneeling behind me interested and turned on by my ass).
Brian's cum on the floor (so thick and white and so much of it, more than Robert had ever shot on my face), and Brian's cum still on my tongue (it tasted so much sweeter than any I had ever tasted, including Robert's).
And me getting? damn, I got FISTED (how did I even know that term and how did Brian know to do that and why was I so happy at that accomplishment).
I got fisted and it didn't hurt? it made me cum!
No BRIAN made me cum. I owe every great sexual experience to BRIAN. I am damn lucky to be Brian's bitch!
I basically skipped back to school, my hole so stretched that any illusion I was like the other boys in my school stripped away. Though I didn't care. I wasn't like other boys. I was Brian's bitch!!
I probably should have been embarrassed about what I had just done but I saw it as an accomplishment.
I had been FISTED.
I don't know how I knew it but most adult fags couldn't do that and at only 17 I had!
I was Brian's happy little fag.
I knew it was going to be hard not jacking off during the next week as I waited to find out what Brian had in store for me next. I also knew that I wasn't going to service Robert (or have sex with anyone else) ever again.
I was Brian's property and I only wanted him? to use me as he wished? and how I wanted to please him in whatever way he wanted!
This would definitely be a long week as I waited for Brian to surprise me again.
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