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 →
Scott has Michael’s balls locked in the cock stock so that he can’t even thrust his hips to get himself off, and subjects him to a cruel edging. The 22-year-old asks seven times for permission to shoot his load, and Scott denies him.
