All posts by Greg Alexander

Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 07

By Greg Alexander

After Trevor face fucked me and made me drink his piss, Collin took his turn. When the two frat boys had had their fill of abusing me for the day and were finally spent, they changed into fresh clothes and then headed out for another night with some of their frat buddies. Problem was, they didn’t bother to untie me first. So I spent the rest of the night suspended in the air between two stools.

Trevor finally let my aching body down the next morning, gave me some food and water, and allowed me some rest for the remainder of the day. But needless to say, my respite was temporary.

Over the course of the next several weeks, my roommate turned frat boy master seemed to take a fiendish delight in devising new ways to torment, dominate and generally humiliate me. In every conceivable way, my life at college had changed to become completely unrecognizable, just as Trevor had promised.

Trevor slept every night in the new double bed he had managed to create by confiscating mine. I on the other hand slept in a small steel dog cage Trevor had purchased at a local pet store, and inside of which I was securely locked, with one dog bowl of water, every night right before bed. Of course, I was always kept naked. When Trevor was in a benevolent mood, he would slip a small pad into my cage on which I could curl up and go to sleep. But on many nights, whenever he felt the need to punish me, he would give me nothing to sleep on at all, and I would have no choice but to put my head down on the hard freezing metal floor of my cage.

Continue reading Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 07

Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 06

By Greg Alexander

By the time they got back, I was a mess.

The vibrations in my cock cage had caused me to involuntarily squeeze my muscles to pump my cock harder for god knows how many hours, despite the worsening ache in my dick that it caused. Unable to reach my cock, my pelvis was doing small involuntary thrusts to try to get relief. So much pre-cum had dripped onto the floor that it actually looked like I had taken a major piss. And all the while, I was compelled to bite down on Trevor’s salty flip-flop which served only to make the ache in my dick worse. Meanwhile, my entire torso began to ache, as my body strained helplessly, unsupported by anything, yet unable to even sag toward the ground, given how tightly stretched I was.

When at last the door opened, Trevor and Collin came in. One of them was carrying three six packs of coronas, and the other was carrying a bag of chips and a box I couldn’t see what was in the box. They set their supplies down next to the chairs, and then came over to examine me.

Trevor’s eyes immediately feel to the floor. “God! You’re dripping like a leaky faucet. What a fucking mess,” he exclaimed.

Continue reading Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 06

Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 05

By Greg Alexander

Trevor walked into Dirty Nick’s, sat down at the bar, and ordered a Guinness. Dirty Nick’s was a favorite for the boys of Delta Psi — for one thing because it was right down the street from the frat house, and for another because the owner was a former frat boy, which meant that guys like Trevor never got carded. Granted, Trevor had a fake, like everyone at Delta Psi. And anyway, he was coming up on 21 in a matter of months — he was old for his year. But it was good not to get carded.

Trevor spotted his group of friends sitting at one of the tables in the corner. They were all Delta Psi brothers, except for one or two dudes on the crew team. It wasn’t that Trevor had any particular problem hanging out with guys who weren’t in the frat, or on one of his teams, every now and then, but he found most of the guys at school to be tools, wusses, douche bags, or probably a little gay. The brothers of Delta Psi were the one exception — everyone one of them was a real bro, someone Trevor felt like he could chill with.

Continue reading Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 05

Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 04

By Greg Alexander

I tried to dart past them, springing forward with a surge of adrenaline and aiming for the narrow gap between them. Using just one hand, Collin casually grabbed my arm and arrested me in mid-stride.

Still I kicked and struggled frantically. But at just 5’9”, with a lithe but nevertheless scrawny build, I didn’t stand a prayer against two muscular jocks at the height of their athletic abilities. Without even breaking a sweat, Collin dragged me back into the room, and Trevor quietly shut the door.

At that point I was a little hysterical. Figuring I had nothing to lose, I opened my mouth and started to scream at the top of my lungs.

Calmly, Trevor reached into the workout bag that he was carrying and fished out a role of duct tape. I tried to run away. But Collin effortlessly took my head into a vice-like grip and held me still while Trevor yanked a long piece of tape off and wrapped it around my face, covering my mouth. Still I tried to scream, but Trevor quickly wrapped the tape around my head in several loops, until my voice had been completely muffled.

Continue reading Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 04

Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 03

By Greg Alexander

Unsurprisingly, I didn’t sleep well that night.

For one thing, since I had now been tied in a spread eagle position, my hands bound behind my back and my torso pressed down onto the coffee table because the dog collar around my neck was connected by a tight leash to my balls underneath the table, it’s small wonder that I wasn’t very comfortable. Just try leaning all the way forward, with your ass sticking out in the air and your legs tied apart in a spread eagle position. It hurts like hell — all your calf muscles are burning with pain and your lower back kills. Then imagine the pain of having a taut rope looped securely around your balls, which is pulled on whenever you try to raise your head. Then imagine sleeping that way.

What was worse, my ass was still on fire from the 64 plus fierce, all out spankings Trevor had sadistically delivered to me with his paddle before climbing into bed.

But most urgently, I desperately needed to cum, and my inability to do so — to even so much as stroke my cock — was preventing me from sleeping a wink.

Trevor, on the other hand, slept like a log, as was evident from the sound of his heavy breathing throughout the night. Of course, all I could really see throughout the entire night were the massive soles of Trevor’s feet, which dominated my field of vision — they still had a strong manly smell, which in any event I couldn’t get away from, as my face was completely immobilized. The smell of his feet only served to make me hornier than ever.

Continue reading Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 03

Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 02

By Greg Alexander

Trevor lay there for a while, just staring at the ceiling and thinking as I licked the soles of his feet. Finally, he grabbed his cellphone and flipped it on. I saw him speed dial someone. “Hey dude…” I heard him say. “Yeah, man. This is Trevor. Yeah, I know, awesome game, fucking right down to the wire . . . yeah I watched the whole thing . . .Listen — I gotta big favor to ask. Are you at the frat right now? Yeah? No shit? Well, would you mind sending one of the pledges over to my dorm room with one of the paddles from downstairs? The really wicked looking long one, yeah . . . no, bro, I’m not fucking around with you. I need it. Why?” He looked down at me and his eyebrows flickered mischievously. “Cuz I wanna show it to my roommate, that’s why. I think he deserves to see it . . . yeah, yeah, I’ll explain later man . . . hey, thanks dude, see ya at practice tomorrow.”

Trevor hung up, and we sat there in silence for a few minutes, Trevor just rubbing his cock idly and examining me.

There was a knock on the door. Trevor got up off the bed, wearing only his T-shirt, and not bothering to cover his ramrod cock, went over to the door. I was of course unable to turn around, but I heard him open it, talk to someone in a muffled voice, and then close it.

As he approached me from behind, I could hear him swinging something wooden against the palm of his hand over and over, making a sadistic slapping sound each time.

“Alright, my little bitch,” Trevor said. “I want you to meet a very special friend of mine.”

Trevor ungagged me, for the second time that day, and set his foul athletic socks, now soaked with my saliva, off to the side. Grinning happily, he dangled his new toy in front of my eyes.

Continue reading Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 02

Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 01

By Greg Alexander

I could hardly contain my excitement when I walked into my freshman dorm room and saw Trevor standing there.

Sure, I had known I was going to be rooming with a big jock, a much discussed new recruit for both the university crew team and tennis teams, and I’d heard he was already planning on pledging Delta Psi, the most hardcore frat on campus.  But I hadn’t realized how stunningly hot he’d be.

When I walked in, he was just wearing work-out shorts, a tight undershirt, and a big pair of white sneakers with no socks, so that his ankle bones were clearly visible.  I almost sprang a boner there on the spot.  He was incredibly tall, with a lean and muscular frame, and broad shoulders.  He had jet black hair, curly yet cropped very short and close to his head, which made him look even more masculine.  His face was boyish, cleanly shaved and with delicate features, but you could tell from his fiery blue eyes the boy meant business.  I knew right away I didn’t want to cross Trevor.

I tried to make conversation with him when I walked in — he was unpacking his socks and underwear and athletic gear from a large, old fashioned trunk in which he seemed to have packed most of his clothing.  As he removed his undershirts and underwear by the bundles, he spread them out onto a padded reclining chair and a large coffee table he had already moved into the room.  He was distant, and his mind was definitely otherwise engaged.

“Whatya up to?”  I asked.

“Nothin.  I’m late for practice,” he grunted.  On his way out of the dorm room, he kicked off his shoes for a second to pull on a pair of thick white tennis socks.  For that one brief second, I caught a glimpse of his bare feet, and my jaw almost dropped.  They were big feet, beautifully tanned, nice and moist too.  I got the idea that Trevor always liked to keep his feet shielded — not a big fan of walking around the dorm room barefoot, judging by his unmarked soles.  Maybe he wanted to make sure they didn’t get spoiled for his tennis games, I thought to myself.

Continue reading Frat Boy’s Bitch Boy – Part 01