Serving Casey

By Ben Coolen

Published on Feb 25, 2018

Gay

Serving Casey

By Ben Coolen

bencoolen1212@gmail.com

This story contains sexual acts (domination, submission, humiliation, oral sex, masturbation) between young males. If you don't like it, or it is illegal in your country, state or community, please stop reading it immediately.

This story is 100% fiction.

Please keep in mind that Nifty needs our donations to keep this great free service running.

Thanks to Naughty Bard for proofreading the text.

Chapter 6


A powerful orgasm shook my body, and I shot a spray of cum all over my shirt.

I recuperated for a few minutes, panting and looking at the cum stains on my shirt and Casey's dirty underwear that I was still holding in my hand.

Then something occurred to me. Casey, Logan and Shane had called me awful names. But I knew they were right. Wimp, pussy, fag, faggot, homo and cocksucker. That was me.


It was a beautiful day, and our young English teacher, Mr. Stafford, decided to bring his class to the little park across the street from our school. There was a nice small opening with wooden benches in a ring -- a perfect place to discuss Mark Twain's books.

And that's just what we did. I had read all Twain's books and loved them, so I was enjoying our discussion enormously -- until I saw Shane. He stepped out of a red Corvette he had parked in a reserved-for-staff-only spot in front of our school. I saw him enter the schoolyard and talk with some of the kids there. To my horror one of them pointed straight to us. Shane waved his hand as thanks and walked towards us. I froze in horror and held my book in front of my face, hoping in despair that he wouldn't recognize me.

But in less than 30 seconds Shane stepped right into the middle of our literature class, paying no attention to the teacher. I stared at him, as did everybody else. And boy, was he worth staring at.

Shane was wearing a white tank-top that hugged his ripped body, showing off his broad shoulders, softball-like biceps and tight sixpack. The shirt was tugged in a pair of snug worn jeans that had large rips in the thigh area, revealing slices of tanned skin. The right pocket of his jeans was poking out from a rip, and through another rip the leg of leopard-patterned boxers was visible. A wide leather belt with a large brass buckle pointed nicely out the contrast between his narrow hips and muscular torso.

Shane had finalized his appearance with a white backwards ball cap, a pair of white-framed sunglasses propped on top of the brim, a golden necklace with a dog-tag, and a diamond earring shining in his left earlobe.

He stopped in front of the circle with his thumbs under his belt, totally comfortable with being stared at by twenty kids and their teacher. He smiled at me.

"What's up dude?" he asked.

I lowered the book and muttered:

"Nothing much. Got class now."

"Yeah, I can see that," he chuckled.

Mr. Stafford seemed to wake up from a trance. A popular rumor claimed that he was gay, and indeed, he had been staring at Shane with his eyes wide.

"What is this? Who are you, young man?" he asked, trying to show authority.

Shane didn't pay any attention to him. He nodded at me.

"We have an assignment for you. Logan will meet you at five sharp in the backyard of the gym and fill you in with the details. Don't be late."

Mr. Stafford stood up and touched Shane's arm. Before he could say anything, Shane spoke without looking at the teacher. His voice was steady, but there was a clear warning.

"Don't touch me, motherfucker."

Mr. Stafford took a step back and sat down, causing snickering among the students. Shane spoke to me again.

"Understood?"

"Yes."

"Good boy," he said and winked his eye at Betty, a pretty girl sitting next to me, who had been measuring Shane from head to toe with her eyes. Betty blushed and Shane grinned.

He leaned over and took the pen from my hand. He scribbled his phone number on a page of the book I was holding and ripped it off. Then he folded the paper and dropped it in Betty's lap.

"Call me babe," he said loud enough for everyone to hear, and strolled away.

Betty was red like a tomato, but she picked up the paper and slipped it into his bag.

The girls giggled and whispered to each other while the guys started questioning me.

"Who was that cocky asshole? Why did you let him boss you around like that?"

I just sat there, mumbling something but not really knowing any logical answer. Soon enough the class continued, but I couldn't concentrate any more. What was this assignment Shane had been talking about?


I didn't want to be late so I arrived 15 minutes early and found a vacant spot for my car one block from the gym. I waited in the car, listening to the radio and thinking about the massive changes in my life that I had experienced lately.

Three guys my own age were now treating me like I didn't have a will of my own at all. They made fun of me and humiliated me in public when they wanted and Casey was using me as an outlet for his sexual needs. They told me what to do and I obeyed. Like that very day; Shane had ordered -- not asked -- me to be at their gym at five, and here I was, waiting for Logan giving me an assignment, whatever that meant.

I knew that I should've stood up for myself a long time ago and cut all my ties with all these guys. But I couldn't do it. Casey had been my best friend since we were little kids, and I still loved him, although he treated me like shit nowadays. Shane and Logan then -- just looking at these teen hotties made me feel small and meaningless. They were handsome, athletic, confident, popular, brave -- all those manly features that Alpha males were made of. They saw my weakness and used it for their own benefit. And no matter how degrading and humiliating that ever was, a force inside me told me that it was just the natural way: as a weakling it was my place to submit and serve stronger males.

Suddenly I awoke from my thoughts and glanced at the clock: 5:05. I got out and ran to the backyard of the gym. I looked around: all the windows of the gym were dark and the back door was locked. Then I saw light in a little window over a door in some sort of an annex building. I walked over and knocked the door. I heard steps, and then Logan opened the door. He was wearing a slim black shirt and snug black jeans.

"You're late, dude," he greeted me.

"I'm sorry man, the traffic, you know," I stammered but Logan would not have any of that.

He looked at me with his hard, dark eyes. This was the first time I had actually seen him standing, and I noticed he was a good three inches taller than me, over 6 feet. His black hair was now untied, combed back behind his ears and flowing down almost to his shoulders. I noticed that he was sporting a black shadow on his upper lip and chin, clear signs of his approaching adulthood. I had to look up to meet his gaze.

"Don't be late next time we tell you to come over."

"I won't. I promise."

But Logan had already turned his back to me. I followed him through a hallway into a room. A handwritten paper pinned to the door said "Office". I looked around. It was a spacious, sparsely furnished room that was in desperate need of cleaning. `Some fresh paint would be nice too!', I thought. The only pieces of furniture in the room were a large office desk, a reclining chair, and a bed on the opposite wall. It looked a bit like a sheriff's office in a Western movie, only the cells and gun racks were missing.

Logan sat down in the chair behind the desk and propped his feet on the table. There was no place for me to sit, so I remained standing in front of him. He sat there for a good while chewing gum, saying nothing, just looking at me while I stood there uncomfortably, shifting my weight from time to time.

Finally he spoke.

"Shane and I rented this room from the Coach. We use it as our office as team leaders, so the rent is nominal, just fifty bucks a month. We can use this space as we want, but we are supposed to keep it in decent condition, you know, wipe the floors, keep the can and shower clean and take the trash out."

"Sounds like a fair deal," I said.

"It is. But you see, there's a problem. You know guys like Shane and me, we aren't really interested in any kind of housework. So, the cleaning part of our rental agreement is a problem," he said and spat the gum from his mouth towards the trash bin, missing by five inches.

"And that's where you come in, dude."

I was speechless for a moment. They had the balls to ask me to become their housekeeper? No, not ask me. Tell me.

"You want me to take care of your chores here?"

"Yes."

"How often?"

He thought for a minute.

"Twice a week, Tuesdays and Fridays, would probably be enough to keep the coach happy."

Clean their office twice a week? What an outrage!

"And our intention is to use this as our fuck nest too." he added, pointing at the bed.

"So, when one of us gets lucky, he'll send you a message afterwards to come change the bed sheets."

"Logan, that's quite a lot of work actually. What's in it for me?"

Logan raised his eyebrows.

"For you? This is voluntary work, there's no salary. But the assignment has benefits. From time to time you will have an opportunity to meet Shane or me in person and spend a little time with us. And what's most important, you will know that you're working for a cause, that is, to make life easier for me and Shane."

The possibility of spending time in the company of such studs was tempting, of course. On the other hand, I would never know what kind of pranks they would have in store for me. I had enough experience to be suspicious. And I had my guitar lessons on Tuesdays after school.

"Well, I dunno man. I've got a lot of homework nowadays and..."

He cut me off.

"And we would make sure that none of the video clips we possess would accidentally go viral."

I gulped. If that wasn't blackmail, then what was?

I tried to bargain.

"Well, I guess I could do it once a week."

Logan smiled.

"I said twice a week. And whenever the sheets need to be changed."

I sighed.

"Well, okay."

"Good, that settles it. You can start today."

"Uh, sure."

"I'll send you our contact information. Make a special ringtone to your phone for our calls and messages, so you'll know it's important."

"Well, I guess I'll start cleaning then."

But Logan had another idea. He stood up. unbuttoned his shirt and folded it on the table. Then he sat down again, spread his legs and pointed to a spot between them.

"What?" I asked, puzzled.

"Casey told me about the blowjobs you give him. He said I should try you out. Well, I'm horny as fuck right now, so just get down on your knees and suck me off."

I just stood in front of him, frozen. He was going to use me, just like that, without any interest in my feelings about the arrangement.

"Well?" he asked and gave me a hard look.

That look in his dark eyes was all that was needed for me to comply. I kneeled down between his legs. He unbuckled his belt, popped the top button of his jeans and lowered the zipper, revealing a pair of pearl-white Armani boxer trunks. He pulled the waistband down so that his cock and plump ball sack hung over it.

I inspected his cock. I had seen it on my first visit at the locker room and I knew it was big. It was still soft, but I could see that the shaft was sturdy and probably close to six inches long. When fully hard, I figured, it would be a massive sex tool.

Logan hooked his finger and gave me the come-here sing. I moved closer on my knees so that his cock was just two inches from my lips. I parted my lips, and he slid the crown of his rod into my mouth, placing his hand behind my head to pull me closer. I expected him to push his cock further in, but he just stopped there and fished his phone from the pocket of his jeans. He pressed a quick dial and waited.

"Speak," Casey's familiar voice said above me -- Logan's phone was on speaker mode.

"Man, you told me about the blowjobs you get from the fag."

"Yup. What about it?"

"You said I should try him out, right?"

"Sure thing."

"Well, I've got the fag here right now and I would like to make sure I'm doing everything right. Hold on a sec," he said and turned the screen of his phone towards me.

I was looking at Casey's face on Whatsapp video call screen. My own face with a sturdy cock pushed partly into my mouth, was shown on a smaller square on the corner of the screen; on Casey's end it would fill most of his screen.

Casey exploded in laughter.

"Hahahaa, that's awesome man! He's just waiting to be skull-fucked by you. Well done, man!"

"Say hello to Casey, fag," Logan instructed.

I tried to pull my head back so I could speak, but he held it in place and pushed an inch more of his cock into my mouth.

"I told you to say hello to Casey."

"Hewwo Wawey," I slurred, and the guys went hysterical.

"Haha, your bitch is funny. What's his name again?"

Casey was just about to tell Logan my name, but then he got another idea. A smug smile appeared on his face on the screen.

"I don't remember, he's just `bitch' to me. Why don't you ask him."

"What's your name, fag?"

"Wandy," I replied and the guys laughed at it for a long time.

"Come again. What's your name?" Casey asked.

"Wy wawe iw Wandy," I said.

"His name is Wendy," Logan told Casey.

"Wendy? Hahahaha, what a perfect name for a cocksucker," Casey laughed, hardly able to speak.

"Ahaha, yeah, that's a real fag name. You're gonna suck my cock in a moment, Wendy, isn' t that yummy?"

I knew he expected me to answer his question, so I nodded.

"Yew."

The guys questioned me until they got tired in laughing at my slurred answers.

Logan ended the Whatsapp call.

"Okay, time for my blowjob now. I'll fill you in about the filthy details later."

"Can't wait! Enjoy, and make the fag work hard for it," Casey encouraged him and hung up.

Logan let go of my head.

"Do your thing, fag."

I pulled my head back and his cock came out with a plop. I wiped my mouth and asked:

"Do you want me to take your shoes and pants off?"

He seemed pleasantly surprised by my subservient attitude. He smiled.

"Yeah."

I untied and loosened the laces of his black hi-top Vans and pulled them off his feet. His moist ankle socks came off too, and I folded them neatly on top of his shoes. He lifted his butt so I was able to yank his jeans and underwear off.

I noticed that his cock was already partly hard; he had enjoyed humiliating me in front of Casey. It had grown in length considerably and looking at it scared me a bit. Would I be able to fit it in my mouth without gagging when it was at full mast? Well, I would soon find out.

I folded Logan's jeans and Armani boxers carefully and placed them on the table. Then I leaned over and took hold of his cock. I lifted it up so I could lick it from root to top.

"Yeah," he whispered, and I took that as a permission to lick his rod again, rubbing it with my fingers at the same time. In no time I was looking at a fully hard young man's sex organ, rising majestically towards the ceiling from a bush of black pubic hair.

I felt suddenly overwhelmed with emotion and lust. This stunning young stud was there to be served and worshipped by me, me of all the young gay guys of our town, and I felt privileged. I would do my best to please him.

I thought that an arrogant guy like him would probably like to hear a little flattering. I looked up until I met his gaze.

"You're a fucking stud, Logan," I said, truthfully.

He gave me a self-conscious smile and clasped his hands behind his head, letting me admire his bulging biceps and the black hair of his pits.

"You think so? Well, I guess I am. Keep talking fag, I like that."

I felt I had made good progress with Logan. Maybe I could win him over, well, not as a friend, but as someone who would hold me in favor.

I brushed his hairy calf with my fingers.

"Just look at yourself, we are about the same age but you look like a man, not like a boy like me."

"Yeah, that's so true. Go on," he encouraged, stroking his cock.

"And look at me, I'm on my knees in front of you and that's just like it's supposed to be because you're a man and I' m not. I'm here just to make you feel good. You have all the right in the world to use me. Really, it's an honor for a guy like me to serve a man like you."

"I'm glad you realize that. Are you gonna swallow my load and thank me for the privilege, fag?"

"I sure am. "

"Good boy, Wendy."

Hearing that nickname made me look down, and he laughed.

"You don't like me calling you Wendy, do you?"

"Well, not really."

"Ahahah, but that's just what I'm gonna call you from now on, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Well, I guess not."

"You guess? Tell me your name, fag."

I sighed. I knew the answer he wanted to hear.

"Wendy. My name is Wendy."

"Haha, that's right. What are you, Wendy?"

"A guy?"

"Wrong answer. You're not a guy, Wendy. Think again."

"I'm a fag."

"That's right. You're a fag, Wendy. I'm glad you admit it. What else are you?"

"Ummm... I dunno."

"You said that you are gonna suck me off and swallow my load. What does that make you?"

"A cocksucker?"

"Yes, that makes you a cocksucker. Now try again. What are you, Wendy?"

"I'm a fag and a cocksucker."

"Something was missing. Try again."

Missing? Oh yes, of course.

"My name is Wendy. I' m a fag and a cocksucker."

"Good. What are you gonna do to make me feel good, Wendy?"

"Just tell me what you want. I'll do anything to make you feel good, Logan. I promise."

He thought about it for a minute.

"Well, I've received a blowjob or two from chicks. But I've never met anyone who would be so into it like a fag like you. So, I'll teach you to please me the way I want. Show me what you can do, and I'll tell you if I like it or not. For example, I've never had my balls licked. You can start with that."

"And keep saying what I just taught you about yourself," he added.

"Yes Sir."

He chuckled.

"You're obedient. I like that. Go on."

I had absolutely nothing against licking that plump, hairy sack hanging between Logan's legs. But repeating that mantra made the task more humiliating. And that was just what he wanted, of course.

"My name is Wendy."

Slurp, I licked Logan's balls, while he kept stroking his cock. They smelled and tasted mostly clean, just a little sweaty. The coarse black hairs of his sack tickled my tongue.

"I'm a fag."

Slurp. Logan spread his legs to grant me access to his entire scrotum.

"And a cocksucker."

Slurp. I licked the spot that connected his ball sack to his left thigh. It tasted considerably sweatier, but I liked it. I took a whiff of his manly odor.

"My name is Wendy."

Slurp. My knees were hurting already and my legs were becoming numb. I knew I had to try to speed things up and get him off soon. I leaned closer, supporting my hands on his thighs. They felt like warm, hard logs.

"I'm a fag."

Slurp. I licked the root of his cock. He let go of his rod to let me lick the entire shaft.

"And a cocksucker."

I took hold of his cock and wrapped my lips around it.

"Wy wame iw wenwy."

Logan leaned back and relaxed his body. I started to suck his cock with all my recently acquired skills. To my surprise I was able to take in most of his macho rod, all the way down until his curly bush brushed my nose. Some more practice and my lips would reach the very root.

I inhaled Logan's manliness and sex drive. `What a fucking stallion he is', I thought, and felt his rock-hard abs with my right hand.

He grabbed my head and started to fuck my face in earnest. Most guys wouldn't be able to do that for long -- fuck upwards while seated -- but his athletic body was trained to achieve whatever he wanted. I adjusted my movements to his rhythm: when he pulled out, I sucked in, my hands holding his hips to help intensify his thrusts. And yes, his powerful upwards thrusts together with the downward movements of my head brought my lips in contact with the skin around the root of his cock -- I had taken all of Logan's manhood in my hungry mouth.

And then he came.

"Uhhhh...." he groaned, spraying his seed into his cocksucker's mouth. I kept sucking until his balls were empty. Then I pulled out and swallowed his cum. After a pause for recovery I lapped up the remains of his load off his cock that was now shining from jizz and my spit.

He looked down and caught my eye. I hadn't forgotten.

"Thank you for letting me suck you off, Logan."

"You're welcome, fag. Now go clean your face and start cleaning this place."

I rinsed my face in the filthy sink and dried it with my hoodie. Then I went to look at the little closet next to the office door. It was empty.

"There's a problem," I told Logan who was washing his cock in the sink.

"Huh?"

"There's nothing to clean the place with. No broom, no rags, no detergent."

"Really? We hadn't thought about that. Well, you'll just buy what you need. You can come back tomorrow to do the cleaning."

So, I would have to buy the equipment myself. Something else occurred to me.

"And Logan?"

"What now?" he asked, clearly annoyed.

"You told me to change the bed sheets."

"Yeah, I did."

"But there are no sheets in the bed."

Logan poked out of the bathroom and looked at the bed.

"Is that so? Well, you'll just have to get some."

"You mean I have to buy all the cleaning equipment and new bed sheets and pay for them myself?"

"Dude, do I look like a guy who goes to the discount store to buy brooms and bed sheets? Think again."

He took a key from the drawer of the desk and held it up for me to see.

"I'm gonna give you this key. Take good care of it, because if you lose it, you'll have to pay the costs of changing the locks. Understand?"

"Yes."

He gave the key to me. Then he opened the bottom drawer and took out an empty candy box .

"See this box?"

"Yeah."

"We collect a maintenance fee from anyone outside the club using these premises. You know, to cover the costs, like housekeeping and shit. It's not much, just five bucks every time you visit the office."

Housekeeping? That was me.

"Just put a fiver into the box every time you come here. We'll check the balance every now on then, so don't try to cheat."

"You... you want me to pay you for cleaning your office twice a week?"

He smiled.

"Yes. Plus the extra visits for changing the sheets."

He held the box up and raised his eyebrows. I sighed and took out my wallet.

"Do you have change for ten bucks?"

He snatched the bill -- my only one -- from my hand.

"No. Besides, you were late. That costs you an extra five bucks."

I felt like crying.

"Do I have to pay another five bucks when I come back tomorrow to clean this place?"

"Of course."

And thus started my career as Wendy, the maid of Logan's and Shane's office.

Driving home, I tried to see something good in the arrangement. Well, being able to admire Logan and Shane was a plus of course. And my cock had definitely gotten hard when Logan made me repeat those degrading words about myself while licking his cock. It had stayed hard until he told me that I had to pay for the privilege of taking care of their chores.

The maintenance fees would hit my already meagre budget pretty hard. But on the other hand, I told myself, my life would become steadier. From then on I would know what my position with Logan and Shane was, and there would be less humiliating surprises for me. And I was pretty sure the guys would keep my embarrassing nickname to themselves, to be used at the office only.

I was wrong.

Want the story to continue? Then drop me a line or two: bencoolen1212@gmail.com

Next: Chapter 7


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