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The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 01

By: PeterOmez



AUTHOR'S NOTE: The following is a tale of horrific abuse of a poor, hapless innocent who in no way deserves it. It is written only for people who enjoy such tales. Call this a spoiler, or call it fair warning, but my stories NEVER contain revenge or table-turning. This one is no exception. Enjoy!

*****

Well. Here I am, I thought. This is the best Sunday afternoon ever. I am ready to start my adult life. 18 years old, a freshman at Trentstown University, my parents have just left for the drive back to my hometown of Bellewood. I'm signed up for my classes, which start tomorrow. I have my books. I've arranged my desk just the way I want it. The room has a private bathroom attached, which I didn't expect. But I was quite relieved to know I wouldn't have to use common showers in college. My toiletries, towels, and washrags are all placed in the bathroom where I want them.

My roommate, who I have yet to meet, has taken the top bunk, which is fine. There's a futon couch in the room, which doesn't match the other furniture, so it must be his. There's a flat-screen TV on top of a dresser. The TV must be his as well. He left his dirty socks and underwear all over the room, and towels on the floor in the bathroom, but I've gathered those up and put them in a pile on his unmade bed. I also threw away food wrappers he left around, and empty soda bottles. Maybe now, since I'm here, he will try to keep the place straightened up.

I didn't know where my roommate was, or when he would show up, but I thought I'd take advantage of the quiet to take a look at my books for my courses. Maybe I could read ahead a little, and be prepared for whatever my professors might discuss tomorrow. My desk was situated back-to-back with my roommate's. Each had backs, with shelves, so if you were both sitting at them, you couldn't see each other. My chair was in the corner of the room; behind me was a wall; to my right, a window, and to my left, the bunk beds. 

I read, and took a few notes in one of my notebooks. After about 45 minutes, someone walked through the door. He came around beside the bunkbeds, and, seeing me sitting at my desk, said, "Oh. Hey. You must be my roommate. I'm Tyler." He approached and extended his hand. 

I shook it and said, "Hi. I'm David."

"You a freshman?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, me, too. Where you from?"

"Bellewood."

"Oh, that's cool. I'm from Keenesburg."

"Where's that?"

"It's way east of here. About 8 hours."

"Oh. I haven't been to that part of the state much."

"So, you're, what? 18?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, me, too. I'll be 19 next month."

"I guess you must have got here yesterday? Or before?"

"Yeah, I got here Friday. Wanted to check out the city a little before classes started. And the campus, too. They got a nice weight room here, right in this dorm. You work out?"

"No."

"Ha. Didn't think so. No offense, but you don't look like the type. So... you gay or somethin'?"

"What? No."

"Ha. Well, then, what are you doing sittin' in here? You should come out and walk around campus, man. Hot chicks everywhere. You're not gonna see any out that window, walking through our parking lot. 'Course, I got a girlfriend back home, but that doesn't mean I can't look, right?"

"Is your girlfriend still in high school?"

"Naw, man. She graduated. We both did, last year. She didn't wanna go to college, though. She waits tables back in Keenesburg."

"Is she 18 also?"

"Yeah. She turns 19 in March."

"So she's just living at home and waitressing?"

"Well, actually, she moved in with my mom."

"Really?"

"Yeah, haha. My mom loves her. Shelly - that's my girlfriend - she's got younger brothers and sisters, it's crowded at home, so she really wanted to get her own place, but my mom was like, 'Nooo, honey, don't do that, save your money. Move in here, then I won't be so lonely when Tyler leaves.'"

"Wow. I can't see my parents letting a girlfriend move in."

"Yeah, well, it's just my mom. My dad died when I was 5."

"Aw. I'm sorry."

"You got a girlfriend, by the way?"

"No."

"Well, that's why you should be outside! Get out there and meet some chicks here, man!"

"I'll meet 'em soon enough. Today I wanna get a jump on classes."

"Hahaha, what?? Is that what you're doin', studying??"

"Yeah."

"Dude, what for? There's nothin' to do yet. You're a strange one, Davey. Dude, check out my abs, man. They're gettin' tight!" With that, he lifted up his sweaty shirt to show me his stomach. I just nodded. "Those are lookin' good, huh?"

I shrugged. "I guess so."

"Yeah, man, I had a nice workout today." He stripped his shirt off and tossed it in the middle of the floor. "We got a nice basketball court right out there, too." He pointed in a direction that told me the court was on a certain side of the building. "Thinkin' of goin' out there for a pick-up game. What about basketball, you play?"

"No. Oh, by the way, um... I picked up clothes that were lying around..."

"Yeah, I see that."

"... and, um... well, do you have a laundry basket or something?"

"I got a bag."

"Well, you think, maybe... you could... you know... keep your clothes picked up? You know, and... put them in the bag, then?"

"Well, it's right here," he said, opening the closet door and rifling through a box. He pulled out the empty laundry bag, and tossed it in my direction. It landed on the floor beside my chair. "It hangs on the inside of the closet door, if you want." He then got a basketball out of the closet and started bouncing it.

"Um... well, no, I mean... could you... you know... keep your clothes... you know, off the floor so they're out of the way? Could you put them in the bag? And keep the bag in the closet?"

"Haha. Well, I'm not too good about that kinda stuff. My mom and girlfriend always pick up after me."

"Um... Oh kayyy... but... they're not here, so..."

"Ha, no, they're not. So I guess that'll be your job. Hey, I'm gonna head down to the court for some hoops, so I'll see ya later. Get outside, dude. Meet some girls." With that, he dribbled the basketball on our floor as he headed out the door.

Ugh. What the hell? He wants me to pick up after him because he's used to his mom and girlfriend doing it? In a huff, I picked up his laundry bag from the floor, and his sweaty shirt, and put them on his bed with the other clothes I'd picked up earlier. He can put them in the bag himself, or sleep in the bed with them, I don't care.

For the next hour or so, I continued studying, though now and then someone in the dorm played music loud, so it was hard to concentrate. When Tyler came back in from playing basketball, he laughed to see I was still sitting at my desk. "Damn, Davey. I never heard of anyone studying before school even starts. Look how sweaty I am, dude. That was a good game. I played on the skins team, obviously. Shit, I'm hot." He dropped the ball on the floor and let it roll under my bed, kicked both his shoes off in a random direction, then stripped his socks off. Coming near me, he held them atop the palm of his outstretched hand, and said, "See how sweaty those are? Do they stink? Can you smell 'em from there?"

"Uhhh... no, I can't... smell 'em... but I'm sure they are very sweaty."

"Oh, yeah." He brought them closer to my face, and said, "Smell 'em and see if they do stink. I bet they do."

I pulled my face away from them, grimacing, and saying, "Nooo. I don't wanna smell your socks. Yes, I'm sure they do stink, but-"

"Come on, smell 'em. Come onnnn. Just smell 'em. It's no big deal, c'mon."

"I don't WANT to smell your socks, Tyler, cut it out," I said, trying to push his hand away.

"Come onnnn. Just take a sniff. Come on."

"No! Cut it out! Smell your own socks if you wanna know if they stink."

"Davey, come on, quit bein' a pussy." He came right up beside me, more or less trapping me, because if I scooted the chair back, I'd just hit the wall. Otherwise, I was boxed in, between him and the window. He brought his hand up to my face, with the smelly socks in them. I tried to turn my head to the side, and when I did, he grabbed ahold of my hair with his free hand.

"Owwww. Tyler! Let go of my hair, owww."

"I will, just smell my socks. Come on."

I sniveled, and winced, reaching up with both hands toward the wrist attached to the hand holding my hair, but then realizing there was nothing I could do but pull that wrist and thereby hurt myself more. "Ugh. OK, OK, I'll smell your socks. Jesus." I quickly sniffed. "There. Now will you let go, please?"

"No, you really need to get a good whiff. Really breathe 'em in, dude. Savor the flavor."

I sniveled. "Tyler, come on," I whined. "I don't wanna-"

"Come on. Just relax. Just take a few deep breaths so you can really savor my socks, dude. That's the smell of basketball victory, haha. Our team kicked ass."

OK, fine, I thought. I relaxed, breathed in and out a few times, and grimaced at the odor of Tyler's socks, which were indeed quite strong. At the same moment, Tyler let go of my hair and also dropped the socks onto my desk, right on my notebook. Then he turned to face away from me, and looking at me over his shoulder, said, "Look how sweaty my butt got, dude. These shorts are soaked."

I didn't say anything, but picked up the socks and tossed them in the air to land on his bed in the top bunk. Tyler nodded his head toward the pile of clothes already there and said, "You gonna put those away before I go to bed? 'Cause if they're still there at bedtime, you know I'm just gonna shove 'em onto the floor."

"Ugh. Can't YOU put them in the bag, and put the bag in the closet?"

"No, dude, I told you. I don't do that."

I sighed. "Fine. I'll put them away."

"Sweet. We'll be good roommates, I can tell." At that point, he stripped off his shorts, and tossed them to the side, onto the floor. "How's my underwear look, dude? Are they totally wet? Or is there sweat just down the crack?"

Mildly disgusted, I made a face. Trying to focus on my book again, I said, "I don't know. I'm sure they're sweaty, though."

"Look at 'em, dude. Tell me. Check out my ass in these jockeys, too, man. It looks great, doesn't it?"

Check out my ass? What kind of thing is that to say to your roommate? I tried to ignore him.

"Davey. Look at my ass, dude. I love jockeys like this. They make my ass look hot. My girlfriend loves 'em, too. Lotta times I just walk around in only these. What kind of underwear you wear?"

I just shook my head a little, and rolled my eyes, continuing to look at my book.

"What kind, Davey? You wear jockeys, too? Boxers? Briefs?"

"Briefs," I said, curtly. 

"Let's see 'em. Take your pants off."

"No!"

"Come on, let's see what you look like in those briefs."

"Ugh. Why do you wanna see what I look like in my underwear? Would you just... would you go over THERE, please, and ... let me ..."

"Dude, come on, take your pants off, it's no big deal."

"I don't WANT to take my pants off."

"Come onnn. Do it. Come on," he said, and suddenly grabbed my hair again, pulling upward so I'd get out of my chair.

"Tyler! Let go, what the hell!?!? Would you stop!? What is wrong with you??" I tried in vain to free my hair from his grasp, and soon he had me standing. Even if I could get his hand out of my hair, I couldn't really get past and around him, since he was standing between the desks and bunk beds, and behind me was only a wall. 

"Haha, nothin's wrong, dude. I just wanna compare. I wanna see if you look as hot as I do in your underwear. Kinda doubt it, 'cause you're so skinny, but..."

"Well, I DON'T-"

"Here, dude, undo your belt." He reached toward my belt buckle with his free hand, which made me move both my hands there, to stop him from undoing it. 

"Tyler ... *sigh* ... let go of my hair! Dude, I don't wanna take my pants off. Jesus Christ. Let go of me!"

"Come on. Dude, I've got ahold of your hair, you know you're gonna have to do it. Just drop 'em. Let's see."

"Tylerrrrr," I whined.

"Come on."

With a final defeated sigh, I unbuckled my belt. I unfastened my pants, and let them drop to my ankles. "There. OK? Satisfied? Here I am in my underwear." He still held me by the hair, and said, "Turn yourself around, let's see what your butt looks like in those briefs." I rolled my eyes, but turned around. I had little choice, really, because Tyler twisted his hand so that at least my head would HAVE to pivot.

"Hmm. They look kinda baggy, dude. Can't really see the shape of your butt. You should wear jockeys, and get tight ones like these, so girls can really see your ass, you know? 'Course you should get on the weight machines and tighten up your glutes, too. Here, step out of your pants, kick 'em all the way off."

"Dude, I don't want my pants all the way off. Would you stop this, please? Look, I don't... I don't lift weights and I don't care about ... my glutes, and... I don't care what I look like in my underwear, OK? And I certainly don't care what YOU look like in yours, so..."

"Aw, dude, you gotta care about that stuff. See, that's why you don't have a girlfriend. Here, step out of... lift your feet up, let's get those pants off."

"Why?? I don't want my pants off. Tyler! God dammit! Let gooooo of my HAIR!"

"Come onnnn! Quit bein' a little bitch. There you go, step out of those, that's good." Once I had stepped out of my pants, he let go of my hair, but he still stood in front of me, so I had nowhere to go. "Go ahead and take that shirt off, and your shoes and socks. Let's check you out here."

I stretched my hands out in front of me, toward Tyler, and tried to be stern as I said, "Look. Tyler. You asked me if *I* was gay, but I'm beginning to think maybe you are. This is kinda gay, don't you think?"

"No, man, this isn't gay."

"I don't care about... Look... why don't you just go ahead and do your thing... you know... lift your weights, play basketball... enjoy your jockey shorts, whatever... I don't care about that stuff, OK? I don't wanna stand in my room in my underwear with my roommate, and ... talk about... what our asses look like..."

"Come on, dude, it's no big deal. Take your shirt off."

He stayed put, standing in front of me and blocking off any escape. I sighed. "And what if I don't?"

"You will. You know you're gonna do it sooner or later. Just do it. I'll just grab you by the hair again."

Fine. With an annoyed sigh, I stripped my shirt off. Then I took off my shoes and socks, and stood in my underwear. "There. Now ... can I get dressed, please? And will you leave me alone?"

"Turn around again. Lemme see your butt. Hmm. Yeah. You need some jockeys, dude. Really small ones, so they're tight... until you start building up some muscle. Turn back around, lemme see the front. Hmmm. Can't even see your package, dude. You DO have a dick in there, right? Hahaha. Can't even see it. Look at mine. That's another thing I love about these. Check that out." He grabbed his "package" and manhandled it a bit, in self-admiration. When he removed his hand again, he said, "Looks great, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," I said, sarcastically, with my eyes unfocused and directed off in the distance, not looking at the "package", his face, or anything else. "Great. Now can we get dressed and-"

"Come get a really close look."

"What?"

"Get on your knees and come take a close look."

At that, I scoffed, and reached for my clothes to re-dress myself. Tyler sprang into action, saying, "Ah-ah! No, not time to get dressed yet," and grabbed my clothes first, flinging them around behind him. 

"Tyler, COME ONNNN!" I whined. 

"Haha. Dude, I don't know why you keep giving me such a hard time, you know you're gonna have to do what I say. Come on, I want you to get a good look at how great my stuff looks in these jockeys. I want you to get a really close look." At that, he grabbed my hair once again. I don't know how he managed to surprise me a THIRD time with that move, but he did. And he pushed me to my knees, while I whined and sniveled. Once I was down, he grabbed the hair atop my head with *both* hands, and planted himself standing right in front of my face. The front of his jockey shorts were just an inch in front of me, with his "package" just beyond. I turned my head, and started to push on his stomach to get him to move back. He responded by getting a better grip in my hair, grabbing large fistfuls of my hair, bringing tears to my eyes.

"OWWWW! Tyler, ow, ow, owwwww, stop!"

"Put your hands down," he said. "Just let your arms hang down. Don't move them. Keep 'em down."

"OK, OK! Owww, let go, please... owww... oh, god, that hurts, Tyler."

When I stopped resisting, he did ease up on my hair so it didn't hurt so much. Then he said, "OK, now, just look at my junk. Check it out. Looks good, huh?" I didn't say anything, so he tightened his grip and shook my head a little, by the hair. "Looks good, huh!?"

"Ow! Yes. Looks good. Looks great," I said, unconvincingly, I'm sure.

"Just look at it." 

So I stared ... at his FREAKING jockey-clad "package", on my knees in front of him, feeling like an idiot.

"Can you smell it? Sometimes I put cologne there. You smell cologne?"

"I can smell a little, yeah."

"Ever put cologne on your junk, or on your underwear?"

"No."

"Didn't think so. You should try it. First you gotta work on your presentation, though, you know... you need the right kind of underwear."

I didn't say anything.

"Here, get up really close," he said, pulling me in a little closer so his dick was almost touching my nose. "Smell it." 

I scoffed, and started to complain. "Tyler..."

"Just smell it. Doesn't stink, does it? Even after I've been workin' out today, and played basketball. Haven't showered since this morning, but I bet it still smells good, doesn't it?"

"Not to me," I said. Despite the cologne, it did smell pretty strong. Not like body odor, but very musky and sweaty.

"Chicks love it."

"Well, I don't know if you noticed, but I don't happen to be a 'chick'."

"Haha. Doesn't matter. You can still tell me if it smells good. God, I wish Shelly was here. I'd have her on her knees just like this, and she'd give me a nice post-game blow job. She loves goin' down on me after I've been workin' out, and I'm all sweaty. It's fuckin' hot, dude."

I sighed. "That's great. Now can I please get up, and get dressed?"

"Just stay still, dude. Check out how my dick looks in these when I get hard."

"What??"

"Just stay there. I'm gonna get hard thinkin' about Shelly."

"Oh... god... Tyler..."

"Just be cool, dude. Just stay still. Watch my dick, when it starts to get hard."

"Awww! I don't wanna-"

"Come on, dude, it's no big deal. Watch my dick."

I didn't want to watch his dick. Yet, I kept my eyes open, because I had no idea what he intended to do next. So I guess I wanted to be able to see any sudden move that might follow. Despite sensing that my eye muscles were trying to retract my eyeballs as far back into their sockets as possible, to increase the distance between them and his dick, I kept watching. His penis did start to engorge, right in front of me, rising and growing behind the fabric right in front of my nose. I heard him start to breathe more heavily, and felt his fingers moving slightly in my hair.

Once he was fully aroused, he started to push himself forward just a little, enough that his dick made brief contact with my nose. I winced, and he pulled back an inch or two. Then he brought himself forward again. He started to rock himself back and forth, gently, bringing his crotch right up and bumping it gently against my face. I complained, "Tyler... dude, come on."

"Just relax. Just be cool."

"Be cool? Tyler, this is not cool, come on, mannn..." I whined.

He paid no attention. He just kept bumping up against my face. Slowly he increased the rhythm, and also with each forward thrust began to pull my head into his crotch. In time he was banging up against me, essentially humping my face.


The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 01



Then something happened which horrified me. As I breathed his musky, slightly-cologne-tinted scent, and felt his hard dick banging against not just my nose anymore, but basically my whole face, and as I became fully aware of being trapped and helpless on my knees, his hands grasping my hair and holding me in place, something about the vulnerability and humiliation of the whole situation made my... dick... start to get hard! 

Just then Tyler said, "Davey, bring your hands up and put 'em on my ass." 

"What?? No! Tyler, come on, this is-"

"Come on, just do it. That's what Shelly does. Sometimes I do her just like this, and grind on her face before I let her suck my dick. I make her beg for it, haha."

"Well, I'm not Shelly! Oh god, Tyler, I swear, if you take your dick out of your-"

"Shhh. Too much talk, Davey. Put your hands on my ass. And don't worry, I'm not gonna make you suck my dick."

"Oh, God, thank God for that, but this is-"

"Put your hands on my ass, Davey. Stop arguing, you know you're gonna have to do what I say. You need to just get used to doing what I tell you. You know you can't stop me. I'm stronger than you, and I'll always-"

"Tylerrrr... come onnnn." I almost wanted to cry, the situation was just so embarrassing and belittling. I wondered what would happen if one of the other guys on our floor walked in on us, what they would think.

I rested one hand on each of Tyler's butt cheeks, as he continued humping my face through his jockeys. After a minute or two, he said, "Pretend you're Shelly, and say, 'Oh god, Tyler, I want your dick so bad. Please let me suck it!'"

"Nooo!! I'm not gonna say THAT!"

This time, instead of trying to harangue me into doing it, he simply squeezed my hair tighter. His grip was pulling my hair very hard, and naturally I repsonded with, "Ow, OWWWWW! OWWWW! Ow, stop! OWWWWWWW!!" 

Tyler said nothing, but continued banging his dick against my face, maintaining his tight grip on my hair, making me tear up to the point that I was leaving some tears on the front of his jockey shorts. Finally I said, "OK, OK!! Ugh. Tyler... I want your... dick so bad..."

"Say, 'Oh god, Tyler, I want your dick so bad. Please let me suck it!' That's what she would say."

I repeated his words, though certainly devoid of any passion. "Oh god, Tyler, I want your dick so bad. Please let me suck it."

"No, come on, say it like you mean it."

I sniveled, but tried again, with a little more feeling, but of course, anyone listening would have only sensed the humiliation of BEING A MALE and having to utter such words to my ALSO MALE roommate!

"Try it again, come on. Say it like you really mean it."

I tried. "Oh god! Tyler! I want your dick so bad! Please let me suck it!"

"Oooh, that was pretty good. OK, now just keep pretending you're Shelly. Say what you think she'd say. Yeah, baby, you wanna suck my big dick?"

"Yes! I wanna suck your big dick! I want to so bad!"

"Yeah, you wanna suck it? Beg me, baby. Beg to suck my big hard cock."

"Please! Please let me suck your big hard cock!"

"Say my name."

"Please, Tyler! Please let me suck your big hard cock! I want it so bad, Tyler! Please let me suck it!"

"OK, baby. Suck it. Suck my big hard cock!" At that, he released one hand from my hair, and, quick as lightning, slipped his thumb into his waistband, and jerked his shorts down past his hip on the one side. It was enough to make his dick spring out, and on the next thrust, he shoved his naked dick right into my face!

"Auugh," I blurted, in surprise. He held my head in place, a few inches in front of his bobbing cock, and he said, "You wanna suck my big hard cock?"

Thinking that he wanted me to continue to pretend, I replied (though with a grimace on my face), "Yes, Tyler! I wanna suck your big hard cock! Please let me suck it!"

"Hahaha. OK. Open up, baby." At that, returning his free hand to my head so that both were in my hair again, he pulled me toward his groin, lining up his dick as though to thrust it into my mouth!

"Auuugh, what are you doing? Eww! I thought you just wanted me to act like Shelly! *I* don't wanna suck your dick! I told you I wasn't gonna do that!"

"Correction: *I* told *you* I wasn't gonna MAKE you do it. Hahaha. My bad. I thought you really wanted to."

"Oh, God! No! I told you I wasn't gay!"

"Well, that doesn't matter."

"What do you mean, of course it does!"

"Whoa, heyyyyyy... what's THIS?" Just then he had spotted something which I'd hoped had gone away: my erection! Oh my god... how would I convince him *now* that I wasn't gay??

"Oh my god, Davey, is your dick hard?" he asked, obviously rhetorically. "It is! Hahaha. Well... see? I told you... this isn't about being gay, dude, it's just... you know, when you're thinking about a girl giving you a blow job, of course it's hot. I know you're probably thinking about Shelly sucking my dick... and it IS a nice dick, isn't it? No big deal, dude. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

I didn't really know what to say, though I *was* kind of glad Tyler didn't try to make ME into the gay one, when as far as I was concerned, HE was, well, bisexual at the very least.

"Gettin' turned on, huh, Davey? Hmmm. Well, here. Let's help you out. Here, move yourself back. Move up against the wall." I shuffled on my knees, to keep pace with the hands in my hair, pushing me back toward the wall. "There you go. Now here, just sit back, on your ankles. Yeah, like that. OK, now, put your hands on my butt again. There you go ... Now just hold still. I'm gonna cum, and you can, too."

"What?"

Tyler didn't answer, but he slipped his jockey shorts back up to cover himself again, planted one foot on the floor beside my thigh. The other one, he brought up to my crotch, resting his large foot right on top of my underwear-clad dick. I drew in a quick breath when I felt it, and in the next moment, as he again held me by the hair with both hands, he resumed humping my face. I just kept my mouth closed, and winced against his thrusts, sometimes closing my eyes. His foot didn't really move around on my crotch, but still, the pressure kept a little bit of rhythm in concert with the rest of his body. 

Even though Tyler was pumping his crotch, I certainly was NOT pumping mine. I would have tried squirming away from his foot, but there was nowhere to go. I just wished my dick would go soft. But it wouldn't. My entire "package" tingled and buzzed, against my will, as I sat on my ankles feeling helpless and trapped. With my hands I felt Tyler's muscular buttocks, and the heat coming from them. And of course my face continued to feel the assault of his musky genitals through his aromatic jockey shorts. 

After a while, instead of banging his crotch into my face, he kept it pressed against it, and started to grind up and down. The back of my head was trapped against the wall, and I sat sniveling, wondering if he really did intend to make himself cum this way. I felt so ridiculous being made into some kind of masturbation tool for my roommate, who didn't seem to care at all that I was TOTALLY unwilling. This bordered on rape.

Yet Tyler's foot, which I desperately wanted OUT of my crotch, kept pressing in time with each of his thrusts, and wouldn't let my arousal abate. I tried in vain to squirm just enough that maybe the shaft of my dick could work itself to the side and not feel so much pressure from his foot. But my squirming made the stimulation even worse... or better, from my dick's perspective. Soon I realized, in horror, that I was getting pretty close to cumming. I had to stop it. I couldn't cum under my roommate's foot! How disgusting! I reached around, put a hand around his ankle, and when Tyler felt it, he pushed downward in a very quick thrust, wracking my balls. 

"Ngggghhh!!" I grunted, suddenly feeling lightheaded. But... I can say this... my dick went soft.

"Put your hands behind you, I said."

I returned the offending hand to its position behind my back. Tyler kept grinding up and down on my face, and in a few moments my dick started to get hard again. Then Tyler quickened his pace, started to breathe very heavy, and soon I heard, "Auuuuugggghhh," and felt his first spasm of orgasm. Warm, wet cum started to seep through his boxers, and I could feel it on my forehead. 

I winced and grimaced with my eyes and mouth tightly shut, as Tyler continued several hard thrusts against my face. He groaned, and swiveled his hips vigorously to rub his dick all up and down my face, smearing on it the cum that was seeping through. It left traces on my forehead, my nose, my lips, and even my chin. 

When he was done, he removed his foot from my crotch, released my hair, and took a step back. "Whew!! Man... that was intense. Dude, look at the mess I made in these. I don't usually cum in my underwear, look at that." He pulled the waistband down and away, in front. "Damn. Shelly usually swallows all my cum. Or it goes in her pussy. I don't usually see it. That's a lot, isn't it? Look at that." He stepped forward to give me a better look. I reflexively recoiled from it, though there was really nowhere for my head to go. 

I nodded, my head turned slightly sideways. "Mm hm. I'm looking, I'm looking. I see it." 

"What am I gonna do with it?"

"I don't know. Just... let the shorts soak it up, and let it dry?"

"I think it might stain 'em, though."

"Soooo... wash 'em out in the sink? I don't know. Could you please not hold it so close to me, though?"

"I don't think it'll just wash out with water. Why don't you wipe it out with your hand. Or most of it, anyway. Whatever you can get."

"Ewww. Ugh. Um... why don't YOU wipe it out... with... I don't know, toilet paper or something."

"You could suck it out of my shorts. That's probably what Shelly would do, hahaha."

"Auuugh. No, thank you. Can I get up and get dressed now?"

"After we take care of this. Here." He grabbed the small waste basket I had placed under my desk. It was just a plastic cylinder and didn't have any kind of liner in it, because I only intended to put dry garbage in it, paper and such. "I'll hold the shorts over this, and you use your hands and just kinda wipe it, or scrape it, into the trash can."

"What? I don't want that in my trash can."

"Well, you can wipe it out later."

"Why can't we wipe it out NOW, into... actually, why can't YOU wipe it into the toilet or something?"

"No, dude, the trash can's right here."

"But I don't-"

"Come on, here, I'm holding 'em. Look, some's dripping in already. Now you use your hands and wipe the rest off."

"Eww. Why don't YOU wipe it?"

"I don't wanna touch that stuff, I don't wanna get my hands all cummy."

"Well, neither do *I*! Especially when it's YOUR-"

"Davey, stop arguin', come on. Remember what I said? You better just get used to doing what I say. Come on. I'm about to just wipe these off on your face and if you don't shut up. Come on. Wipe the cum into the trash can."

I huffed, but scooted forward, and pressed the shorts between my hands, as Tyler held them by the waistband. I slid my hands down, like two squeegees, and rubbed, forcing the cum downward, and most of it dripped off my hands into the bucket below. I repeated two more times, until it was clear no more could be squeezed out.

"OK, cool," said Tyler. "So you think they'll stain? Do you need to do something to them before you wash 'em?"

"Before *I* wash 'em? What do you mean?"

"I mean can they just go in the dirty laundry now? Or do you need to soak 'em in something, or whatever?"

"Why are you asking if *I* need to ... soak them... or..."

"'Cause you're the one who's gonna be doing laundry, so-"

I scoffed. "What do you... *I*'m gonna be... what are you saying? You want me to do *your* laundry?"

"Yeah, you're gonna have to. I don't know how to do laundry. My mom and girlfriend take care of that."

"Ugh. Well... once again, Tyler, your mom and girlfriend aren't here... what... what did you think you were gonna have to do? I mean... they didn't teach you to do laundry so you could do it yourself?"

"No, I figured I'd have to learn, but now that I've met you, I see I'm not gonna have to. I'll just let you do it."

"LET me?" I scoffed. "OK... I'll tell you what... when it comes time both of us need laundry done, I'll *teach* you how to do it. OK? And then-"

"Haha, no, man. No need for that." I looked up at him, stupidly, my mouth hanging open, amazed at his audacity. "Just do my laundry, too, whenever you do yours. So you didn't cum?"

"Uhh... no... I didn't."

"Bummer. Well, later on if you start to feel like rubbing one out, lemme know and I'll help you with it."

I scoffed. I thought, Help me with it? What the hell? That's OK, thanks. I don't need help "rubbing one out".

Then he pointed at me. "I mean it," he said. "Don't be playing with that thing when I'm not around. I'll help you get off. Hey, what are roommates for."

I just looked at him in confused disgust. I started to protest that I did not need his PERMISSION to "play" with my "thing"... but ... I was quickly learning that arguing with Tyler would not get me very far.

After dropping his soiled jockey shorts on the floor, Tyler gestured to his sloppy crotch, and asked me, "So... what do we do about THIS mess?"

"I don't know," I replied, casting my gaze his way, suspiciously. I feared he already had an idea... that I wouldn't like.



The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 02



"Why don't you wipe that off with your hands, too."

"Ugh. Tyler," I complained.

"Come on, it's no big deal. You've already got cum on your hands. Of course, if you'd rather use your mouth, you know, that's cool."

I scoffed. "No. I do NOT wanna use my mouth."

"I don't know, I think maybe you should. You've been using your mouth to argue with me. That's gettin' a little old. I think I'd rather you use it to clean my dick off, and suck this cum outta my pubic hair. But... if you stop arguing, I'll let you use your hands."

Sniveling, I scooted forward, still on my knees, and, as best I could, used my hands to try to wipe off the cum on his dick. I shook it into the trash can, and then, using my fingers, tried wiping and scooping the cum that had settled in his pubic hair. When he was satisfied, he said, "OK, that looks good. Now, before you get dressed, get me a nice hot rag to clean up the rest of this." Then he strode, naked, across the room to the futon couch and plopped down on it. With a remote sitting nearby, he turned on his TV.

I hurried into the bathroom, wearing only my briefs, and immediately washed my hands and face with soap and hot water. I grabbed a washrag and soaked it with hot water. Then I brought it to Tyler, holding my arm out to hand it to him. Instead of taking it, he spread his legs obscenely, and said, "Ah, OK, there we go... yeah, go ahead and finish me up there."

I scoffed, knowing he obviously wanted ME to wipe him clean. He pointed at me. "Remember. No arguing. Or I'll put your mouth to work another way, hahaha."

So I knelt in front of him, and started wiping his crotch with the rag. 

"Ooooh," he said. "Mmmm. Feels good. That *is* nice and hot. Hey, before you get dressed, get those clothes off my bed, too. You can go ahead and make use of that laundry bag. Hey, by the way, feel free to put your stuff in there, too, since you'll be doing laundry. Might as well have it all together."

Something about kneeling before him and cleaning his crotch of drying cum, and hearing him give me orders, was making me feel vulnerable and helpless again. I could feel my balls tingle and buzz. I silently cursed them as I felt blood rushing back into my dick. I could feel it swelling, as I glanced up to see Tyler pointing the remote at the TV and pushing buttons.

Somehow he was pushing my buttons, too. How the hell was he doing that? I am not gay, and I do not want to wash his crotch, or do his damn laundry. Then I thought about how he told me not to play with myself. Like... say I decided right now to go back in the bathroom and shut the door, and "rub one out"? He said - no, he basically *commanded* me - not to do that. Where does he get off telling me not to touch my own dick... without his "help"? 

When I felt he was wiped pretty clean, I folded the rag over itself, got up very quickly, and turned to scurry into the bathroom. I didn't want Tyler to spot the bulge in my underwear, as my dick was still hard. I started to close the door behind me, but Tyler said, "Hey, whoa, whoa! Leave that door open. Bathroom door stays open all the time, dude. It's just us here, so there's no reason to close it." I just looked at him for a moment, like, Are you serious? But in the next moment, I thought, Of course he is. So I left the door ajar. 

Fortunately, from his angle, Tyler still couldn't see me very well, and I turned away from him, to rinse out the rag. I also took the time to try and get my dick to go down... thinking about my mother... running through tomorrow's schedule of classes in my mind... doing arithmetic problems: What is 571 plus 443?

Once I was flaccid again, I emerged from the bathroom, intending to fill up the laundry bag next. But before I passed in front of him, Tyler said, "OK, before you take care of the laundry, kneel here in front of me again." I stopped in my tracks, regarded him suspiciously for a moment, but then knelt. Oh, God, I thought. What now?

"Just kinda blow on my crotch to dry it off. I want a blow job, hahaha."

Funny. Very funny. Feeling ridiculous, I sat on my ankles in front of him, put my hands on my knees, and leaned forward to blow-dry his crotch.

After I gathered up his laundry in his cloth bag, I hung it inside the closet. There was only one closet, and the floor of it was full of his shoes, and a couple of boxes of sports equipment, and dumbells and such. He had a few clothes on hangers, and I'd found room to hang some of my clothes as well. The top shelf was free for whatever I might want to put there. We each had a dresser, provided with the room, so most of my clothes and other things had been placed in my dresser's drawers.

Once I'd closed the closet door, I couldn't wait to put my clothes back on. I scurried over to where they lay on the floor, close to Tyler's desk, where he had flung them earlier. After I picked them up, though, I hesitated. My roommate had sprung so many surprises on me over the last hour-and-a-half that something made me stop... and turn to him... I held my clothes in my arms, looked at Tyler, and asked, "Can I ... get dressed now?"

Tyler shrugged. "If ya want to. Is your dick hard?"

"No."

"You don't feel like rubbin' one out? 'Cause if you do, I'll help you."

Sniveling a bit, I said, "I-I-I-I... I'd, uh..."

"What?"

"Tyler... um... I'd really rather... I don't... um..."

"You don't what?"

"I don't... need... um... help to, uh..."

"Oh, you're gonna say you wanna just jerk off alone?"

"Yes!"

"Sorry, roomie. Not allowed. I'm not-"

"Not allowed!?? Ugh. Tyler..."

"Right, not allowed. We'll take care of each other, dude. That's what roommates are for. I don't have my girlfriend here, you don't HAVE a girlfriend. I'll look out for you, and you're gonna help me out, too."

"I don't WANT looking out for."

"There you go arguing again, Davey. I keep tellin' ya you're just gonna need to do what I say, 'cause I'm gonna get my way. I work out. I have muscles. You're ... scrawny, dude. No offense. I like you OK. You're weird as hell, studying the day before classes even start. Hahaha. You're a little out there. And I can see you're kinda anal, worried about clothes on the floor and shit. But that's OK. You can keep the place picked up for us, keep our laundry clean - that'll be a big help - that's cool as shit. 

"But anyway, I'm kinda used to having my own way at home, so I need you to help me out that way, here at college. Especially if I get horny. Shelly's hours away, I'm gonna need you to help me out. So yeah, you can't just be jerkin' it whenever you want, when I'm not around. You'll help me get off, and I'll help you get off."

I just scoffed again, and thought, Of all the other freshman guys at this university, why, oh WHY, did they assign THIS one as my roommate? I stood sighing, and shaking my head, looking upward as though to the heavens. Then that helpless feeling washed over me again. Glancing at Tyler, reclining stark naked on the futon, watching some game on TV, I felt that familiar buzz in my balls again. Oh, shit. Are you kidding me? I'm starting to get hard again? 

I turned away from Tyler and stepped into my pants. I tried some mental tricks again, to get rid of my erection. By the time I was fully dressed, I was soft. I pulled Tyler's desk chair out, and rested a minute, staring blankly at the TV. I couldn't even tell you now what sport he was watching. 

I decided that since direct defiance didn't work, perhaps there was a way I could negotiate with Tyler, so that he would not expect me to participate in ... well ... rather GAY ... what would you call it? Masturbation play? What could I offer him that might get him to agree NOT to grab me by the hair and force my face into his crotch?

I *could* have offered to do his laundry all semester if he left me alone. But obviously... I didn't have *that* as a bargaining chip. I didn't have a car, or I could have offered him the use of that. 

"Tyler," I asked. "What kind of student are you? I mean ... what kinda grades do you get?"

"Ha. All of 'em! Hahaha. You name a grade, I've gotten it. I get As, I get Fs. Just depends on whether I like the class or not."

"What courses are you taking this semester?"

"Ohh, I don't even remember. My schedule's there on the desk somewhere."

I fished around, and sorted through various papers lying on his desk, until I found it. I looked it over, then said, "OK, tell me how you think you'll do in each of these. Anthropology?"

"Uhhh... I don't even know what that is, hahaha. What is it?"

"Uh, it's like... um... ancient cultures... um..."

"So kinda like history?"

"Kinda."

"That one should be all right, then. I can remember history stuff pretty well."

"OK... how 'bout College Algebra 2?"

"Mmm... I'm not bad in math. I should get at least a C."

"English Composition?"

"Mm, not a favorite. That one I might need your help with."

"OK, well... how about this: If I tutor you in English ... no charge ... and like, proofread your papers and help you with those-"

"Oh, yeah, you're definitely gonna HAVE to, 'cause I always mess up grammar shit, and my spelling's not the best..."

"Well, but what I mean is... what I'm offering is, I can help you with English, and-"

"Well, yeah, that goes without saying. I mean, like I said, my mom and girlfriend aren't here - they would usually help me with school stuff - they're not here, so you're like my mom-and-Shelly-away-from-home. So yeah, I'm obviously gonna make you help me with any of my classes when I need it. Yeah, that's part of the deal, too."

I stared at Tyler, my mouth agape, clutching his schedule in my hand. The deal? The DEAL?? What the hell was he talking about? *I* didn't make any deal! First he tells me that since he never learned to do laundry, and since I'm his roommate, and *do* know how to do it, somehow that means I am *required* to do his and mine?? Then he tells me that since his girlfriend isn't here with him at college, and I am, that somehow *obligates* me to "help" him with his sexual needs?? Then he basically tells me I'm NOT ALLOWED to take care of my *own* needs, and have to go to him for "help"? Now he's saying he expects me to help him with his schoolwork, whether I want to or not, for free, because he's used to having his mom and girlfriend do that?? What planet is this guy from?!? What kind of mutant breed of humans is inhabiting the eastern part of our state??

With a bit of a whine creeping into my voice, I said, "Tyler... *sigh* ... isn't there something I could offer you ... um ... in exchange for ... well ... see, I really ... didn't like ... you ... you know ... um, bringing yourself off, uh... you know ... on my face." I gave a nervous laugh at that point.

"Yeah, you did. You had a big ol' boner, Davey. You forget I felt it with my foot?"

"Well, I mean... *sigh* ..."

"Davey, here you go again, tryin' to start an argument. Just stop, dude. Stop arguing. Just do whatever I tell you, with no arguing, no talking back. Just do it, whatever it is. You'll be fine. You'll see."

"What about money? I have money saved up. If I give you, like... I don't know, so much money a month-"

"No, dude, I don't want your money. I'm not gonna take your money. I've got my own money, I'm good."

After I sniveled some more, feeling ever more exasperated by his intransigence, he put an end to the discussion: "Davey. Look. You need to just stop whining, dude. Just accept it, you're gonna do anything I say. You're gonna follow whatever rules I make, and you're gonna do what I want. You just are. There's no point in arguing or trying to get out of it. Like I told you, I'm used to getting my way. And I'm gonna get it, 'cause you're not the kind of guy who can fight back. Not against me, anyway. I mean, it's not like I'm gonna bully you or anything. 'Cause I like you. But you just need to let me take the lead, and you just need to follow and do what I say. Then we'll get along great. You'll see. Hey, that reminds me, bring me my phone. It's layin' there on the desk somewhere."

I brought him his phone. "Gimme your number so I can put you in my phone. Hold on ... Davey ... D ... A ... V ... E ... Y ... OK, what's your number?"

I told him, and he immediately dialed the number. My phone, which was sitting on my desk, rang, and he said, "OK, now save my number." I did.

When he was finished watching his game, he suggested we go get something to eat. In the lower level of the dorm next to ours was a food court. When we got there, he handed me money and said, "Get me a beef bowl there at the Chimi Hut, and a Coke, and I'll find us somewhere to sit." I got myself a slice of pizza at another place, then went to the Chimi Hut to get his, and then got two drinks. I scanned the seating area until I spotted Tyler, already seated at a table with two girls. He introduced me as "Davey" (I prefer to be called David; no one has ever called me "Davey" before), and we sat with the two girls and ate. I didn't say much, but Tyler flirted with both of them, and they seemed entertained by his wit. When we were done, he said, "All right, come on, Davey. We'll see you two around." He winked at them, and they said, "OK, bye. Nice to meet you, Tyler. Bye, Daaaavey." I cringed, but decided it would seem unfriendly if I corrected them as to my preferred moniker. TU was a big place, too. I might never see them again, for all I knew.

We passed the evening with me continuing to look over my books and take some notes, while Tyler watched sports on TV. Every now and then, he'd tell me to get him something. Bring him his phone. Go down to the vending machines to get him a snack. I heard him talking on the phone with his mother, and Shelly. He said, "Yeah. Met my roommate. Davey. He's from... where'd you say you were from?"

"Bellewood," I said.

"Right, Bellewood. Uh, it's west of here, I think."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, west. Yeah, he's cool. I like him. We're gonna get along great."

I thought, Well... YOU're gonna get along great. I don't know about me.

When I was ready for bed, I changed into some pajamas. Tyler laughed and said, "You wear pajamas? Ohhh, man. You're definitely a strange one, Davey." I didn't care what he wore, or didn't, when he went to bed, but he volunteered, "I just sleep in my underwear. Sometimes I even sleep naked. But that's usually after sex with Shelly, so... probably underwear here." Then he got off the futon, stood up, and said, "Well, hey, before you go to bed, let's take care of gettin' you off. You didn't cum earlier, so let's take care of that."

I sniveled, and said, "Uh, no, that's OK. I really just wanna-"

"Ahh, come on now, Davey, don't start arguin' again. Come on, come into the bathroom with me." He walked ahead, obviously fully confident I would follow. I slumped my shoulders, stood still a moment, but then realized that whatever was coming, I would probably hate it more if I tried to resist. So I followed. 

After stepping through the bathroom doorway, Tyler stripped off his shorts. He was not wearing a shirt, so after he tossed the shorts out of the bathroom and onto the floor, where they skidded past me, he stood in only his jockeys. "Go ahead and take those pajamas and your underwear off. Get naked." Feeling helpless, I complied, setting my clothes in a pile beside me. "OK, come over here behind me." He moved aside, and I stepped behind him. He positioned himself in the bathroom doorway, facing away from me, while I stood between him and the sink. Looking over his shoulder at me, he said, "OK, get on your knees, and put your hands behind your back." 

When I did, he backed up toward me, and brought his butt to within an inch or two of my face. "You never got a good look at my ass in these, did you? Looks good, doesn't it?"

I just scoffed, hoping he didn't expect an actual answer. 

"You know what we need? Some kind of lube. You don't have any lube, do you, Davey?"

"Lube?"

"Yeah, you know, like... wait, what about lotion? You have any kind of lotion?"

"Yeah. Some hand lotion."

"Is it in here? In the cabinet or something?"

"Yeah."

"OK, stay right there." He then turned around, and leaned into me to reach for the medicine cabinet above the sink. In doing so, he pressed his jockey-clad dick right up against my face, which had nowhere to go because the porcelain sink was right behind my head. I winced as he shifted himself this way and that, to find the lotion bottle. When he found it, he stepped back (thank God), and squirted some of the lotion into one hand.

He turned back around and said, "OK, now come forward on your knees so you can get a really good look at my butt. Does it smell sweaty, by the way? I never did shower after playin' basketball today. These are clean jockeys, though, so it shouldn't stink too much. Does it?"

"Umm... no, it... doesn't... stink."

"Does it smell sweaty, though?"

"A little."

"Put your nose right up to my shorts so you can get a really good whiff."

"Ugh. Tyler," I whined.

"Come on. You know how this works. You're gonna do what I say eventually, so just do it."

I put my nose against the fabric of his jockeys, trying, if possible, to make only one molecule of each come in contact. Just then he bent forward at the waist, pushing his butt up against my face. Reflexively, I pulled my head back. 

"Come on," he said, "Press your nose up to my crack. Right in the crack. Keep it in there. Keep your hands behind your back, too. Push your hips forward a little, so I can reach your dick."

"What?"

"Stop ARGUING, Davey. You heard what I said. In fact ... hold on..." Just then he walked away from me, leaving me kneeling on the hard tile floor, with my hands behind my back, and as I looked down, I saw... god dammit ... my dick was sticking straight out. I sighed, drinking in just how ridiculous this whole situation was, thinking, WHYYYYYY couldn't I have gotten a NORMAL guy as a roommate?

Tyler went to the closet, opened it, and rooted around in one of the boxes on the floor. When he came back, he held a roll of duct tape. He tore off a piece, and said, "OK, this will help. I don't wanna hear you whining and arguing, and also I want you to be able to really breathe my ass." As I looked up at him with my helpless, pleading eyes, he slapped the piece of duct tape right over my mouth. I started to bring my hands out from behind my back, in a reflexive act of defense, but quickly realized that was pointless. I put them back, and held my right wrist in my left hand. "I could use this on your wrists, too, but hopefully we won't have to do that? Will we?" I nodded in the negative. "Good. I've got some rope in there, too, which I'll probably have to use on you some time, but tonight you'll just be a good roomie and do what you're told, right?" I nodded.

He resumed his position in front of me, facing away, and bent forward again, telling me to press my nose into the crack of his jockey-clad butt. Now I had no choice but to fully breathe his ass scent through my nose. I flinched for a moment when I felt his lotioned hand wrap around my dick, and grip it. It was already hard, and as he started to stroke it, I knew I was going to be helpless against eventually cumming, on my knees with my nose in his ass.

He was saying things like, "Oh, yeah. Breathe my ass. I know it has to smell good. Shelly says it always does. If I'm right out of the shower, if I just worked out, if I've just been playing basketball... any time. I put some cologne back there, too, sometimes. Shelly even likes to lick my ass. She'll lick all the sweat off it, it's great." 

I didn't think it smelled so great. I thought it smelled like dried sweat on an ass. One that poops and farts. I knew he had farted into those jockeys several times that evening, because I'd heard him. He had no qualms about ripping one out loud, while I thought farting in anyone else's presence was rude. 




The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 02



"Oh, yeah," he said. "I'm gettin' hard, too, thinkin' about Shelly with her face in my ass. I might have to call her here in a bit."

I tried to hold it off, because I really didn't want to cum with my dick in a GUY's hand. I guess I hoped that, maybe, if I could keep myself from cumming, Tyler would give up, and just let me go to bed. But he kept stroking, and varying the rhythm enough, and working my dick so that there was no way to really turn my focus away from what he was doing. Soon I knew ejaculation was inevitable, and I started to grunt, breathing heavily through my nose, which was filled with the tormenting scent of his butt-sweat. 

"Mmmmnnnnggggg!" I grunted, as the first spasm of my orgasm finally hit. I kept grunting as Tyler stroked me masterfully, and my cum shot out in front of us, just past his feet, all over the bathroom tile, and the room tile beyond. When I was done, he squeezed my dick hard one last time, coaxing the last drop out of the tip, and with a finger of his other hand, scooped it up. He then let go, stepped forward, and wiped the last drop on the floor beside the puddle. 

"Damn," he said. "See? You really did need to cum. Jesus, what a mess. OK, scoop this up with your hands, and let's put it in the toilet."

I grimaced, but then realized I shouldn't be surprised. I did think, Why the hell can't I just use some toilet paper that's right here?? 

"Actually, you know what?" he said. "Scoop it up, as much as you can, in both hands, but don't put it in the toilet just yet. I'll be right back." He disappeared from view, while I scooted forward, then sat back on my ankles, and leaned my upper body forward to start wiping and scooping my cum into my hands. When I got as much as I could, I just sat and waited, holding my hands together and looking down at the globby pool of white goo in them. I sighed through my nose, as of course my mouth was still covered with the strip of duct tape.

When Tyler returned, he was holding his phone to his ear. "Stay there, just like that, don't move," he said to me, and then I heard, "Hey. Whatcha doin'? Yeah? Whatcha watchin'? Hmm. Never seen that." He pulled his jockey shorts down with his free hand, stripped them off, and tossed them behind him. He then reached for the lotion bottle, held the phone on his shoulder, and squirted some into his hand. "God, I wish you were here. I miss you so bad already. I don't know how I'm gonna make it to Thanksgiving. God, that's like three months away. Huh? No. No, you know I won't do that. No one else can do what you do, baby. I wish you were here to do it now. Yeah? What would you do? I'm feelin' horny. What would you do for me? Yeah. Yeah, he's here. No, it's all right. I'm sure he doesn't mind listenin'. Haha. Yeah? Well, that doesn't matter, either. She knows what we do. She'd probably like listenin', too. Hahaha. Tell me, baby. What would you do for me?"

As he started into some phone-sex talk with Shelly, he stroked his dick, right in front of me. I sat on my ankles looking up at him, with my hands held out in front of both of us, my cum cupped in my hands and now forming a cloudy, thin, pool. He was pointing the end of his dick slightly downward, toward that pool, and I realized that when he came, he intended to do so right into my cupped hands. He was saying things like "Oh, yeah, baby, go all the way down on it, balls deep", and I just knelt, helplessly, gagged with duct tape, waiting for the inevitable task of having to be my roommate's cum-catcher.

When he came, with a loud "AhhhhhhAAAHHH!!" the first splat hit the existing puddle hard, and some little drops splashed back onto my wrists. A glob displaced from the surface also landed on my chest, and I winced as I felt it running down. My head was turned sideways slightly, in disgust, as he finished shooting spurt after spurt into my hands, and thrusting his hips and grunting like an animal.

"Whewwwwww. Ohhhhh, yeah, baby, that was good," he told Shelly. "Mmmmmm. Oh, yeah. Haha, yeah, of course I did. Ha. Yeah, he's still here. Of course he did. Haha, what difference does it make? Naw, we're roommates, why would he mind if I jack off talkin' to my girlfriend? Well, yeah! Of course. Well, if I'm gonna jack off, why wouldn't I cum? Haha, yeah, but... I mean, he's got a dick, too, he knows what happens. All right, babe. I'm gonna head to bed. Uhhh, first one's at 9, I think. Or 9:30? I can't remember. OK, baby. I love you. Oh. OK. Hey, Mom. Yep. Headin' to bed now. I don't remember, 9, 9:30, something like that. I don't remember that, either, haha. OK. Yeah. OK. All right, love you, too. G'nite.

"OK, Davey... you can go ahead and dump that into the toilet now. As much as you can get to drip off your hands. This is a good way to catch cum when we need to, so we don't waste toilet paper. Yeah, just hold your hands there and let it drip until it stops. There's some still back here on the floor, too, so... here's what's gonna happen: I'm gonna take this tape off your mouth, and as soon as I do, you're gonna lick your hands clean."

I would have said, "WHAT!!??" but of course couldn't, due to the duct tape gag. Instead I sniveled through my nose, and looked up at him with pleading eyes, thinking, Oh, come on! 

"Lick the rest of it off your hands, 'cause I'm not gonna let you wash your hands and I'm sure you don't want to wipe cum on your sheets, or your PJs there. Then when your hands are nice and clean, I want you to lick the remaining cum off the floor here. Oh, and there's a little on your chest there, too, I see. Go ahead and scoop that up and lick it."

I scoffed yet again, and my eyes darted around. To what end, you ask? I don't know. Looking for a non-existent escape route, I suppose.

"Now when I take that tape off, it's licking time, understand? I don't wanna hear complaining. I helped you get off, so if I hear you whining and complaining, it might be a few more days before I let you get off again. Are you gonna be a good roomie? When I take this tape off, you gonna lick your hands clean? And the floor, like I said? Are you gonna do it right away without complaining?"

With one more final snivel, and a sigh through my nose, I nodded.

"OK," he said, and with that, ripped the tape off my mouth in a quick swipe. 

"Owwwww," I said, not too loudly. But I couldn't help it. I never had duct tape over my mouth before, and didn't know it would sting so bad coming off. I was hoping that didn't count as complaining, and I immediately brought a hand to my tongue, and started licking. Cum on my tongue was something else I'd never had before, and it was a little bit salty, but other than that wasn't too bad. It had a consistency like olive oil or something. I licked both palms, then out along the fingers. Now and then I glanced up at Tyler, with my helpless-looking eyes. 

"Get that drop on your chest there, too," he said, and I scooped it with a finger, and then put the finger in my mouth. That one had a stronger salty taste. Finally, I bent forward on hands and knees and began the task of licking up what was left on the floor. I cringed thinking about all the dust I might also be licking up, and made a mental note to get a broom and mop so I could keep the floors clean in case I had to do this again. I hadn't brought such supplies from home, and I was sure Tyler didn't have them. No doubt Mom and Shelly did all the cleaning at home and Tyler didn't even know how to work a mop.

When I thought the job was finished, I looked up at Tyler and said, "OK... um... can I get ready for bed now?"

"You mean, can you put your PJs back on? Haha. Yes. Do you usually brush your teeth?"

"Yes."

"Did you already?"

"No."

"OK, well, you can do that in the morning. I'm sure you don't wanna get your toothbrush all cummy, haha."

"Um. I don't really mind, under the circum-"

"No, you can brush your teeth in the morning. OK, here you go," he said, as he used his foot to slide my pajamas and underwear along the floor to where I knelt. "Go ahead and get dressed, and let's go to bed."

I sighed heavily, and, still sitting on the floor, and pulled my underwear on. Beside me, I heard the water running in the sink. As I glanced over, Tyler's naked, sweaty butt stared back at me. He was bent over, washing his hands, evidently to get the lotion off his palm. I slipped my pajama bottoms back on, then my shirt, and scurried over to get into my bed. I couldn't wait to sleep, and get this nightmarish day over with. I never really had bad dreams, but even if I did tonight, nothing could be worse than my last 8 hours awake.

As I got under my covers, and lay my head down, I could hear Tyler in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. I had a salty, slightly musky taste in my mouth, and scoffed at how ridiculous it was that my roommate would NOT ALLOW ME to brush MY teeth before going to sleep. When he finished, he came around the bunk beds, and as I glanced his direction, from my bottom bunk, I saw he was still naked. "Think I'm gonna just sleep in the raw tonight," he said, and then stepped onto my bed with one foot, nearly stepping on my arm, and pressing the mattress down beside me as he thrust himself up onto the top bunk. Lamps were still on in the room, and when I looked over, I saw that the bathroom light was also still on. 

I heard Tyler sigh as he settled himself into his bed. Then he said, "OK, Davey. Go ahead and turn all the lights off. Oh, before that, go ahead and put my toothbrush and toothpaste away, and that lotion bottle. And pick up my jockeys, I left 'em on the floor somewhere. I know you want to keep the place straightened up, so go ahead and take care of that so everything'll be in its place in the morning."

I scoffed, silently this time, as I knew doing it out loud would have no effect. Like Tyler said, I was just gonna have to get used to doing what he said. Why the hell couldn't HE at least have turned the bathroom light off??? He walked right past the switch! So ridiculous. With a silent sigh, I pulled my covers aside, got out of bed, and went to the middle of the room, where Tyler's underwear lay. His shorts lay nearby, and a shirt he had on earlier was sitting on the futon. I picked them up, walked to the closet, and put them in the laundry bag. Noticing an empty soda bottle on a little stand next to the futon, I picked that up, and put it in a little trash bin in the bathroom. I made a mental note to take it out to the recycling bin in the hallway in the morning. Next I put Tyler's toothbrush and toothpaste in the medicine cabinet, on the shelves reserved for his things. 

As I then reached for the lotion bottle, I realized something. My dick was starting to get a little hard again. God *dammit*! Why was my dick getting hard? Why would picking up after my jerk of a roommate ... somehow stimulate me? Fuck. My eyes caught sight of something as I reached for the lotion bottle. Craning forward to look at the floor on the other side of the toilet, I saw the piece of duct tape Tyler had used to stop my "whining and complaining", and to make sure I could fully breathe his ass while he jerked my dick. My mind shot back to the sight of his jockey shorts right in front of my face, and the musky scent of his butt in my nose. My dick got even harder. Fuck! Stop that! I thought. 

I picked up the duct tape and put it in the trash bin, and put the lotion bottle away. Then I switched the bathroom light off, went to the switch by our room door, and turned the overhead light off. Finally, I walked to a lamp beside the futon, and turned that off. Then the room was dark, and I got back in my bed. 

"Good night, Davey," said Tyler.

"Good night," I said, and turned on my side. 

I sighed a few times, and tried to settle in so I could sleep. But my eyes wouldn't close. I should have been looking forward to the next day's classes, and thinking about other adventures that might await me as a college student. But all I could think about was, How am I possibly going to endure being Tyler's roommate? I don't know what kind of roommate I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't one who forced me to put my face in his ass while he masturbated me onto the bathroom floor. Or one who would make me be ... like ... the room maid or something ... picking up after both of us, doing both our laundry. Then he was gonna make me help him with his school work, too? I'm sure that's gonna be FUN. 

I probably lay awake for two hours. I didn't hear a peep from above, so it was clear Tyler was sleeping soundly. I never even heard him roll over or change position. I went through the day's events over and over, and occasionally started to get hard again. Thinking of Tyler holding me by the hair with both hands, and humping my face with his hard dick, through his jockey shorts, would get me in a trance for seemingly minutes at a time, but then when I'd realize my dick was hard and throbbing in my pajama bottoms, I'd get pissed off, huff, and turn over onto my other side in an attempt to snap myself out of it.



The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 03



When my alarm went off in the morning, the sound didn't register at first. In about the same moment I realized what it was, I heard Tyler's voice above me, mumbling, "Davey." I rolled out of bed and grabbed my phone sitting on my desk, and turned the alarm off. I sat back down on the bed, sighed, and quietly said, "Ohhh... God."

"What time is it?" Tyler asked.

"7:30."

His arm came into view above me, and he pointed in the general direction of his desk. "Look at my schedule over there. What time is my first class?"

I got up from my bed and went to his desk, picked up the schedule, and looked. "9:30."

"What time's your first?"

"8:30."

"Mmm. Wake me up before you leave the room, then. If I'm not up."

"OK." 

Thankful of the likelihood I wouldn't have to deal with Tyler for the next hour, I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I finished, I grabbed a clean towel and washrag, set the towel on the sink, closed the bathroom door, and turned on the light. I got into the shower with the washrag, and ran the water. When it was the right temperature, I got under it and let it run over my hair. As I started to soap up the washrag, I heard a noise. I stopped to listen, and realized it was a knocking on the bathroom door. Figuring it must be Tyler, I called out, "Yeah!?" 

The knocking continued, so I said, "Come in!" I didn't hear the door open, and in a moment I heard more knocking. Annoyed, I pulled the shower curtain back, leaned forward and said, "Come in! It's not locked!" I could only hear a faint voice, and no one was coming in. So I turned the water off, stepped out of the tub, and, naked and dripping on the floor, I opened the door. At that point I realized Tyler could reach the door from his top bunk, and he had been knocking but was still in his bed. "Yeah?" I said.

"Door stays open, Davey. Remember? I said yesterday, we don't ever need to close the bathroom door."

It was a long moment before I could process the fact that he actually woke up when he realized I was in the bathroom showering with the door closed, and troubled himself to lean over and knock on the door from his bed, to tell me to open it. "Oh," I said. "Um..."

"You're forgetting the rules already? Door stays open, Davey, it's just us. We don't need privacy."

"Oh, I ... um... I did forget that, I'm sorry. Habit. You know."

"Come over here to the other side of the beds, Davey."

"Well... I'm all wet."

"That's OK. It's just water. You can drip, it's OK. Don't get a towel. Come over here."

I thought, What in the hell for!?! But I didn't dare ask. I still had the washrag in my hand, which was probably dripping as much water as my body was. I walked gingerly, as though doing so would minimize the amount of water that ended up on the floor. I came around to the other side of the beds, between the beds and the desks. Tyler said, "The penalty for breaking my rules or not doing what you're told, Davey, is you won't get to cum as much. Did you appreciate getting to cum last night?"

"Uhhhhh..."

"What, you didn't? You don't like cumming? Hahaha. I know that can't be right. Everyone likes cumming."

"Well... ummmm... I mean... I would rather... um... OK, can I be honest?"

"Of course."

"I don't wanna cum from YOU ... you know ... jerking me. And ... I don't want ... your butt in my face."

"You let me worry about how you cum, Davey. I'll take care of that part. If you wanna get off, you'll do it how I want."

Oh, shit. His talk is making my balls start to tingle. Shit. Shit!! Not again. I was gonna start to get hard. Fuck. No. NO!! Go down, god dammit!

At that point, he thrust a foot out from under his sheet. "Kiss my foot, Davey, and tell me thank you for letting you get off last night." 

I scoffed... out loud this time, taken off guard by this latest outrageous ... command, I guess you'd say. With a tone of warning in his voice, he said, "Davey."

"OK," I sighed. I walked over to his foot, looked at it for a moment like it might bite me or something, and gave it a quick, tentative kiss. "Thank you for letting me get off last night."

"Kiss it some more. Kiss it a few times."

Sniveling, I obeyed. I kissed his foot five or six times. On about the sixth kiss I realized my dick was fully hard. I was just glad it was way below Tyler's sightline. "OK," he said, "You can get back in the shower." As I started to walk back, past the beds, he said, "How 'bout a thank you?"

"Oh. Uh, thank you."

"Wait," he said, and quickly rolled over to hang his head over the side of the bed. It actually blocked my path and prevented me from proceeding further. He looked down. "Ahhhh. Your little guy is fully awake, huh?"

I stood frozen, still awkwardly holding the dripping rag in one hand. Tyler reached down over the edge of his bed, and I flinched when I felt him slapping at my dick lightly. It bounced, and he slapped it again on its way back up. "What are you, a foot fetishist?" he asked, turning to me and wearing a smug grin.

"No."

"Hmm, well, I don't know." He playfully batted my dick around a little more, as I just stood still and thought, Ohh, please stop. Just let me get back to my shower, please. "I know the rest of my body smells... and tastes... great. I never really thought about my feet, though. I wonder if they smell and taste good after I play basketball. We'll have to find that out. I'm gonna let you get a taste of 'em today." 

I thought, Oh, God. Are you kidding me? A *taste* of them?

"Tyler... I'm not *gay*."

"Dude, we've already established that. I know that. Well... actually I guess I don't *know* that for sure. I don't really have any proof you're not. Come to think of it, you didn't show much interest in those girls yesterday. But, whatever. I believe you. It doesn't matter anyway."

"Well... would you please stop touching my dick? That's ... I mean, to me, that's GAY."

"No, it isn't. I'm just lookin' out for you, dude. I'm gonna make sure-"

"I don't... *sigh* ... never mind."

"You're gettin' attitude, Davey, I don't know... Whiner!" he said, amplifying with a harder slap to my dick. "Complainer!" he said, slapping it again. "Rule-breaker!" giving it a third slap. "All right, Davey. Since you're being so difficult, I'm not gonna let you get off today. If you're good, I'll get you off tomorrow. So remember," he said, putting a pointed finger a centimeter from my nose, "Keep your hand off that thing. You don't touch without roomie's permission."

He continued pointing, giving me a stern look, until I said, "OK."

"OK, back in the shower. Don't worry about this water on the floor until you're done with your shower. As soon as you're out and dry, let me know."

I hurried back to the bathroom, and actually reached for the door on my way in. Again, habit. Realizing I was about to break the (ridiculous) open-door rule again, I retracted my hand. I stepped back into the tub, pulled the curtain closed, turned the water back on, and finished my shower. 

When I finished, I pulled the curtain back, grabbed my towel off the sink, and dried myself. I dried each foot as I stepped out, trying to find dry patches of the floor on which I could step. With the towel wrapped around my waist, I said, "OK... Tyler? I'm done. And I'm dry."

He was still lying in his bed, and I heard him say, "OK. Hang your towel up, and before you get dressed, you need to lick up all the water on the bathroom floor, and out here, too. That way I'll have a dry floor when I get outta bed." 

Oh, God. Do these ridiculous, humiliating tasks ever end? I just stood in place for a moment. 

"That'll remind you to keep the bathroom door open. Plus ... licking the floor is probably a good thing for me to have you do... you know, any time there's something on it. So we can keep it nice and clean."

*Sigh*. Floor-licking. As a regular chore. 

"Can't I please just wipe it up with my towel?"

"No, dude, it's the floor. You don't wanna get your towel dirty."

So it was better to get the dirt from the floor in my MOUTH? I sighed, but ... knowing I'd have no choice, and fearing Tyler would end up making me do something even MORE ridiculous if I didn't just hurry up and get the job done, I dropped to my hands and knees and started licking water off the bathroom floor. There was enough of it that I knew I couldn't just soak it up, like my tongue was a sponge, so at times I slurped, trying to draw in as much as I could.

Since Tyler didn't hear anything for a minute or so, he asked, "Are you licking?"

"Yes."

"Good roomie. See, doing what you're told is not that hard. Just gotta do it."

As I inched my way out of the bathroom, working my way through the trail I left in the room, I realized this was going to take longer than I expected. I was already behind schedule since Tyler interrupted my shower. I wish he had just stayed asleep, I was a little worried now that he'd keep bugging me and make me have to skip breakfast to get to my first class on time.

Tyler said, "I'm sure you'll have to make a second pass to get it completely dry. You could just use your cheeks, and rub them on the floor to wipe it up and get it dry all the way. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah," I said, and continued my task, trying to get it done as fast as possible... and cursing my hard dick! It was hard AGAIN. From being on my hands and knees licking water off the fucking floor?? How could I ever convince Tyler that I did NOT wanna do this kinda stuff, if my dick seemed to have a mind of its own? 

At least if Tyler looked down at me now, my upper body would hide my dick. I didn't think he could see it from any vantage point in his bed. Please don't get out bed, I thought. After licking and slurping up as much as I could (and some of it was a little bit soapy, because of the soapy water that dripped off the rag, so that didn't taste very good), I used my cheeks, as Tyler advised, to wipe the floor on my return pass to the bathroom. I also used my lips a little, sort of pursing them, and rubbing the floor with them. I even tried to use my forehead a little, but that was awkward, and a little water dripped from my wet hair, so it was also counterproductive. 

From my hands and knees, on the bathroom floor, I called to Tyler. "OK... I think I'm done. Can I get dressed now?"

"Yes. You can." 

I stood up, and without really thinking, I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around my waist before walking back into the room. As I picked out clothes, Tyler said, "That was good that you asked permission like that. That shows you're trying to be a good roomie for me. I think we'll just make a rule ... one that will actually help you remember to keep the other rules in mind ... basically before you do anything, you should ask my permission."

I was turned away from Tyler at that moment, and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, and sighed through my nose. I just wanted to get dressed and get the fuck OUT of this room.

"Of course you don't have to ask to do regular chores, like straightening up. But... basically... when in doubt, ask for permission. Leaving the room... going to the bathroom... studying... watching TV ... making a phone call... just any time you're thinkin' of doing something, and you're not sure if I want you to, ask. That'll help us both a lot. It'll help you remember I'm in charge, and it'll keep you from getting in trouble and having to be punished."

Again, as I listened to this ... ABSURD ... talk from my roommate ... Jesus, where the hell does he get off, thinking he can just ... totally control everything I do like this!? But as I listened, I could only sigh silently, knowing that if I allowed him to hear my exasperation, he would only find some way to make this whole thing worse. 

"You understand?" he asked.

"Yes."

"You're gonna be a good roomie, then, and always ask my permission to do things?"

"Yes."

"Good. Come kiss my foot, then, and say 'Thank you for making good rules that will help us get along and be great roommates'." 

Having just pulled my briefs up, and with my pants in my hands preparing to put them on, I again let out a silent sigh, and walked over beside the bunk beds. I tried to hold my pants in such a way as to block Tyler's view of my hard dick. As he continued relaxing in bed, I stepped alongside his bed, and brought my face up to his foot. "Kiss the bottom of it, and face me."

I kissed, and said, "Thank you... for making good rules that will... help us get along... and be great roommates." I kissed again, for good measure, and started to walk back over to my dresser. But I only took about half-a-step, before I stopped myself, and said, "Um... can I continue getting dressed?"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

Returning to my dresser, I pulled my pants on, put on a belt, buckled it, put on a shirt, and then sat down on the futon with my socks, to pull them on. By that time, Tyler was sitting up in bed. "Bring me my phone, Davey," he said, and I got back up to walk to his desk and get his phone. "You thought it was OK to sit on the futon without asking permission?" 

I stopped in my tracks for a second, cast a pair of questioning eyes his direction briefly, then reached for his phone. "I'm sorry," I said. "I... um... I guess I didn't..."

"I woulda let you, of course. It's just... you know, you should probably play it safe."

As I handed him his phone, I said, "Um... OK... I'm sorry. Is it OK if I sit on the futon to put my socks and shoes on?"

"Yes. Kiss my feet. Both of them, on the bottom, and say thank you."

Since his legs were now dangling over the bed, I had to bend down and brace myself with one knee on my bed. Then I put my head under one foot, and kissed it. "Thank you." I then kissed the other foot, and thanked him again.

I walked back to the futon to put my socks and shoes on. "Hmm. 8:08," he said. "Your class is at 8:30?"

"Yeah." 

"OK. Hurry up and get dressed, 'cause I'm gonna need you to run down to get me some breakfast and bring it back here."

"I won't have time, I need to eat, too, and it takes like 15 minutes-"

"*Sighhhh* Davey, Davey, Davey... OK, now... let's see... next time you get to cum is gonna be Wednesday."

"But-"

"Make that Thursday. Break the rules, Davey, you get punished. No cumming 'til Thursday. And I don't think you're gonna like that, 'cause *I'm* gonna get off. Probably 6 or 7 times by the time you do, haha. And you'll be here to help with that, so..."

"OK. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. What do you want for breakfast?"

"Uh, like a bacon and egg biscuit, I guess. You can get it from the food court where we went yesterday. It won't take long. If you hustle, you can get yourself something, too, and walk fast to class. You'll make it."

"OK."

"Take a couple bucks out of my wallet there. Oh, get me a cup of coffee, too. Three creams, three sugars."

"OK."

When I returned to the room with his breakfast, he was sitting on the futon watching TV, and I handed him his biscuit and coffee. I then hurried back to my desk and loaded my backpack with my books and notebooks. I tossed the biscuit I bought myself into the front pocket; I could fish it out later and eat it on the walk to class. I checked my phone. 8:24. 

I started to hurry past Tyler and out of the room. About a foot from the door, I stopped, whipped around, and said, "Oh. Um... can I go to class now?"

"Uh, just a minute. You got your schedule there?"

"It's in my bag."

"Get it out real quick. Let me look at it."

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and set it down hard on the floor. Squatting, I unzipped it and frantically tried to locate the paper my printed schedule was on. When I found it, I practically threw it at Tyler.

"OK," he said, "8:30, 11:30, and 1:30. OK, so after your 8:30 come back here, and I'll see you here at 10:30." He handed my schedule back. I snatched it from his hand, stuffed it in my bag, and zipped it back up. Standing, and slinging the backpack over my shoulder, I asked again, "Can I go now?"

"Yes. Have a good class, roomie."

"Thank you."

After stuffing the uneaten portion of my biscuit (about two-thirds of it) in the front pocket of my bag, and after shaking my shirt a little to cool myself after a very fast, and somewhat sweaty, walk, I entered my first classroom at about 8:33. Trying to keep my head low and not be noticed, I quickly found a seat. I was glad to spend the next 47 minutes doing what I came to TU to do: learn, and study. Of course, the first 20 minutes or so was just policy and such, and a preview of what the course was about. But at least it got my mind off my crazy roommate.

When I got back to the room, I relished the quiet, and looked forward to the next hour alone. I saw Tyler had left the wrapper to his biscuit on the futon. As I picked it up, I noticed a piece of egg on the floor, so I picked that up, put it in the wrapper, and crumpled it up. I took it to the bathroom waste can, and tossed it in. At that point I noticed the plastic bottle from the night before, so I took that out, to take it into the hallway and deposit it in the recycle bin.

Tyler's coffee cup sat on the stand beside the futon, and when I picked it up, I could feel that it wasn't quite empty. Not sure if he might want to finish it later, I set it back down. Tyler left a wet towel in the middle of the floor. I picked that up, and hung it in the bathroom. There wasn't any other mess in the room, except for our unmade beds. I preferred to make my bed, but I hadn't had time that morning. So I made my bed. 

Just as I finished, I heard my phone beep. When I looked at it, I saw I had a text. From Tyler. Oh, that's right. He has my number. It said, "r u back in the room?"

I texted back, "yes".

"straitning it up?"

"yes"

"good roomie. i dropped a piece of egg on the floor did u lick that up?"

Oh, shit. Thinking fast, I texted back, "not yet"

"u will tho?"

"yes"

"remember all spills u use ur tongue"

"can i get a broom and mop to clean the floors?"

"yes but even then all spills u lick"

"ok"

Ugh. This was so ridiculous. I sighed, and put my phone down. OK. Now, for some study time at my desk. I got my notes out from the class I just returned from, and pulled out the syllabus to re-read it and look over the topics and assignments for the semester. I entered test dates in my phone. 

Then Tyler texted again: "egg licked up?"

Oh, for Christ's sake. I started to reply... then I thought, I don't know... if I lie and say yes... somehow he'll know. He might know. I'm not a very good liar. I certainly can't lie to someone's face. They always know. But ... could someone even tell if three letters of a text I send is a lie?

I bolted up out of my desk chair, and ran to the bathroom waste basket. I pulled the biscuit wrapper out, opened it, and rushed over to the futon. Picking out the same piece of egg I'd put in the wrapper before, I dropped it on the floor. I went down to my hands and knees, bent down, and scooped the piece of egg into my mouth. I considered spitting it into the wrapper, but then had a sudden fear Tyler would ask for details, or something. So I swallowed it. Holding the crumpled wrapper in my hand, I rushed back over to my desk, and quickly typed out "yes". 

There. I told the truth ... and followed my roommate's stupid rules. 

"good roomie"

I tossed the phone on the desk, and scoffed. Angrily throwing the wrapper into the trash can under my desk, I sat back down to resume what I was doing. Then I heard a beep. Picking up the phone, I read, "anything u need to ask my permission for?"

*Sighhhh* I texted back, "is it ok if i study now til u get back?"

"take off all ur clothes. get naked first, then u can study"

Ohhhhhh... for Christ's sake! 

I texted back "ok"

With a defeated sigh, I undressed, then sat back down at my desk, stark naked.




The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 03



When Tyler returned to the room, he looked around and said, "OK. Good job straightening up. I see you made your bed. Looks nice. How 'bout my bed? It's not made."

"Um... I could... make it... if you-"

"Yeah, go ahead and make mine. We already said all those kinds of jobs are yours, so ... I guess on days I get up after you leave, you can just make it whenever you get back to the room. You only leave the room to go to classes. Make sure you ask permission to go anywhere else. You can always text me, 'cause, as you probably figured out, I still have my phone on in class, and can text."

I stood on my bed and tried to make Tyler's bed without getting up onto it. But I soon realized I wouldn't really be able to reach everything. So I pulled myself onto it. Meanwhile, Tyler was in the closet, and when I saw him turn around, he appeared to be holding some yellow rope. He took it into the bathroom. 

When I finished making his bed, I climbed down off it, and suddenly Tyler was there beside me. He was dressed, I was naked. He was holding the rope, and the lotion bottle. "Your dick's not hard, huh?"

"Um. No."

"Well, it will be in a minute, probably. Haha. Put your hands behind you, and stand still." 

He took the piece of rope (which he said was just one of many he'd brought from home, where he often used it to tie Shelly up), and tied one end around my dick. The other end he tied to the lotion bottle, along the "neck" under the squirt nozzle. Then, dropping the lotion bottle, he let it hang from my dick. At first it hung pretty much straight down. But then I started to get hard, and he watched the lotion bottle rise. 

He chuckled, and then made me walk around the room with the lotion bottle swinging from my dick, not allowing me to touch, or try to stop its swinging. It was light enough that my dick could still point straight up when fully erect. But evidently he didn't want that, because he went back into the bathroom to get a much heavier shampoo bottle. 

When he replaced the lotion bottle with the shampoo bottle, my dick was pulled down even though it was fully hard. I winced from the discomfort, and the rope slid down to the head of my dick, almost sliding off. Tyler responded by refastening that end of the rope so it was much tighter. He made me walk around again, and the shampoo bottle kept banging against my thighs as it swung all around and tugged on my dick. 

Then he made me crawl around on my hands and knees, and the bottle hung low enough to touch the floor, but not fully rest on it. So I dragged the bottle around the floor as I crawled, and the bottle pulled my dick down, and back between my legs. 

Finally, Tyler had me position myself on hands and knees facing the futon. He went to the closet and found another length of rope. Kneeling down to tie one end around the bottle, he then stood up, pulled the rope behind and away from me, and tied the other end to the bathroom doorknob. In doing so, he suspended the bottle between my dick and the doorknob, the bottle pulling both of them tightly. Whenever my dick twitched, I winced, since the bottle pulled against it.

Satisfied, he plopped himself in front of me on the futon. "OK," he said. "I promised you a taste of my feet today." Oh, God, I thought. He slipped his shoes off, and placed a socked foot right on my face. 

Needless to say, for the next half hour or so, he made me smell and kiss his socked feet, then smell and kiss his bare feet. I had to kiss them, lick them, just hold my tongue out so he could rest his foot on it, and ask me how it tasted. I had to lick his heels, the balls of his feet, between his toes... The whole time I cursed the fact that my dick was not only twitching, it was leaking pre-cum fluid, which was dripping on the floor. And I knew I'd end up having to lick that up.

He put his feet down flat on the floor in front of me, and made me lower my face to kiss and lick the tops of his feet, too. Leaning forward like that pulled the rope even tighter, and I kept wincing every time my dick twitched. When he pulled his feet back up onto the futon, he told me he might have left sweat on the floor, so I needed to lick the floor where his feet had just been. While my face was still down there, he reached for his shoes, and then slid them in front of my face, telling me to put my nose down into one, close my mouth, and breathe in the scent of his shoes.

"Does it smell good?"

"Um. No. Not really. It smells like a shoe."

"Keep your nose in it, then. Eventually it'll smell good to you. I know it will."

I thought to myself, So... if I had said it smelled good, he would probably "treat" me to more of it. But if it smells bad to me, then I just need to smell it more.

After making me breathe one shoe, and then the other, for a while, he told me to bring my head back up, and he proceeded to press his socks against my nostrils. He then laid the socks on the futon, as he got up from it, and told me to move my head forward to rest my nose on the socks, and breathe them some more. He went to his dresser, and got a clean pair of socks. Leaving the dresser drawer open, he put the clean socks on, then came and took the dirty socks. "I'm gonna put these in your backpack. When you get out of your 11:30 class, the first thing I want you to do is go to the nearest bathroom, go into a stall and close it, and take these socks out of your bag. Hold 'em both against your face, and close your mouth, and breathe the socks for two minutes. Count to 120 in your mind. I know it's gonna make you get hard, but remember, you don't get to cum 'til Thursday. So no touching. After two minutes, put the socks away, and call me. We'll meet for lunch, and I'll tell you where to go."

Of course after he untied my dick, he did indeed make me lick my pre-cum off the floor.

For the next few days, apart from the hours I could concentrate on studying, my mind was constantly on Tyler, as he was controlling my every move. I had to ask permission for every little thing I did, and though there were many hours where he was in class, or working out in the weight room, or playing basketball, or somewhere socializing, he still texted me every few minutes, or I would have to text him to ask him if I could do something. (I wasn't even allowed to go in the bathroom and pee without texting him first and waiting for his answer!) I stayed in the room pretty much all the time, because even if I got thirsty and wanted to go to the vending machines for a drink, it was just easier to do without. I would just go in the bathroom, run water in the sink, and scoop up some water for a drink from my hand. 

When I had to poop, I waited until Tyler was out of the room, since I wasn't allowed to close the door, and I didn't like the idea of someone being able to see me while I was taking a dump. Plus it seemed quite rude to me to poop in front of someone, especially if the smell would obviously waft out to them. But of course, Tyler had no compunctions about pooping when I was there. He would ask me how it smelled, and if I could tell what he'd eaten. Also, whether he pooped or peed, he never flushed the toilet. Whenever he was done, he would tell me to go flush it, and put the seat and lid down. If he peed, he wanted me to wipe the rim with a single square of toilet paper, to wipe up any pee that he happened to splash on it. To prove to him that I did a good, careful job with the one square of toilet paper, he wouldn't let me wash my hand, and would make me lick it, and my fingers, in front of him.

About the third time he subjected me to one of his open-door dumps, he called to me from the toilet and told me to crawl into the bathroom. I was sitting at my desk naked, as Tyler seemed to always prefer me nude when he was in the room with me. Sighing, I slid down off my desk chair, and crawled to the bathroom. When I got there, he made me stay on hands and knees, with my face right between his knees, while he pooped. He made me close my mouth and only breathe through my nose. When he was finished, he got an idea. He told me to crawl to the closet and get him a piece of rope, and the roll of duct tape. "Since you're crawling, bring them to me in your mouth."

I crawled back with the rope and duct tape in my mouth, and he took them. He then leaned forward and tied one end of the rope around my neck. Then he tore off a piece of duct tape and put it over my mouth. The rest of the rope he used as a kind of leash, and pulled me forward, between his legs. He made me put my face up to his balls. I grimaced as I smelled mostly poop, but a little of his sweaty balls as well. His dick was getting fully hard. Holding the rope in one hand, he started stroking his dick with the other. After a couple minutes, he maneuvered the rope to get the knot around to the back of my neck. Then he held it, but also pressed against the back of my head, to keep my face against his balls. The front of my neck rested against the front of the bowl, down in the opening of the seat front. 

All at once, Tyler pulled back on the rope, bringing my head out away from him a little, and to my horror, I saw that he was pointing his dick right at my face as he vigorously stroked it. Before I even had time to fear that he might cum in my face, a jet of his jizz sprayed out, and splatted right on my nose. I flinched, and shut my eyes tightly, groaning through the duct tape, as he continued squirting his cum onto my mouth, my cheeks, my forehead, and my eyes. 

When he was done, he got up off the toilet and lifted the seat, and pushed me forward, telling me to hold my face over the bowl and let his cum drip off. He pushed my neck so that my face was below the rim, and though I couldn't see it (because I kept my eyes closed to avoid getting cum in them), I could smell his poop still sitting there. He still hadn't flushed. In fact, he hadn't even wiped yet, and as I held my head over the toilet, on hands and knees, I heard the toilet paper roll spin, and then could hear him wiping his ass. I heard pieces of poopy toilet paper fall into the water, along with the dripping cum. 

Pretty soon, he pulled my hair in the back, to bring my face up so he could take a look. I still had my eyes closed, but he said, "OK, I think that's probably all that's gonna drip off." After flushing the toilet, he said, "OK, I'm gonna take the duct tape off, but it's got cum on the outside here, so as soon as I take it off, I'm gonna hand it to you, and you're gonna lick it clean. Then I want you to use your fingers to wipe the rest of the cum off your face, and suck it off your fingers. Shelly loves eating my cum off of her face. Next time I think I'll just have you eat all of it."

Tyler liked to cum two or three times a day if possible, so about three hours later, when he got horny again, he put a towel down on the futon, and made me lie down with my head on the towel. He tied my dick with rope, which was then strung over to the door of the room, and attached to the doorknob, so once again my dick was pulled down toward my legs, and every twitch caused discomfort. He still wasn't going to let me cum for another day - IF I remembered to follow all his rules and didn't complain about anything, of course. 

This time I had to lie still and kind of purse my lips, almost like I was kissing, and he proceeded to rub his dick along my lips. He said it was almost like sliding his dick along the outside of Shelly's pussy. His balls kept hitting my ear, and he held my chin in one hand, and the top of my head in the other, as he slid his dick back and forth. I assumed that when he came, he would squirt his jizz past my face and onto the towel. After all, that was supposedly the purpose of the towel, to catch his cum and keep it off the futon cover. But in fact, as he came, he splattered some on my mouth, and then rubbed his dick in it as he continued thrusting. I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt it spreading all over my mouth and cheeks, some of it running onto my neck. 

When he was done, he made me lick my lips, and get as much cum as I could with my tongue. Then I had to use my fingers to scrape the rest of the cum on my face to my mouth, so I could eat it. Since he had smeared cum all over his dick, he made me stick my tongue out, and I sniveled as he rubbed his dick on my tongue, wiping it off. Finally, he pulled the towel out from under me, and wouldn't let me get up until I sucked the remaining cum out of the towel. 

That night, at bedtime, he "tucked me in" himself. I was required to sleep naked, and using four pieces of rope, he tied me to the bed, spread-eagle on my back. Each ankle, and each wrist, was tied to a post, and with a fifth rope, he tied my dick so that, once again, it was pulled downward, and tied above, to the support frame for his bed. (The rope formed about a 45 degree angle to my legs and the bed.) He covered the upper half of my body with my sheet, then pulled it down past my crotch on both sides as far as it would go. The rope tied to my dick prevented it from coming down all the way. Finally, he put a strip of duct tape over my mouth, and pulled a pair of his jockey shorts over my head, so that the back of them were over my face. I had to try and go to sleep, breathing his butt and not being able to move much, while rope pulled against my dick every time it tried to get hard.

Once I was allowed to cum again (though, to me, it felt like being *required* to cum, since I never got to decide when or how), some of the ways he "helped me get off" were as follows:

1. Standing in the shower with my palms and elbows up against the shower wall, Tyler made me hump the wall until I came on it. Then I had to lick all my cum off the shower wall.

2. He made me lie face-down in the middle of the tile floor in the room, with my dick pointing down between my legs. He stood behind me, between my legs, and with the toes of one foot, manipulated my dick until I came. Then I had to get up, turn around, and lick my cum off the floor and off his foot.

3. He made me lie on my back on the bed, and tied my wrists to posts, and then tied my ankles and knees to the same posts, behind me, in such a way as to bring my legs way over my head. Basically only my shoulders were supporting me. My dick pointed right at my face, and Tyler pinched my nose shut and stroked my dick so that I came directly into my own mouth. I hated that, because licking up cum that had been the air for a little while was one thing - it tended to thin out a bit, and become more syrupy - but cum directly from the dick was all globby and sticky. I hated the consistency.

Once I had caught my own cum in my mouth, Tyler decided it should be no big deal for me to catch HIS cum in my open mouth, too. So he started jacking himself right into my mouth. But once he'd done that a few times, he figured I might as well suck his dick to catch his cum. So I started spending a lot of time on my knees in front of the futon, blowing him while he tugged on ropes attached to my neck, and dick. 

When school work began to pick up, and we had assignments to complete, tests to take, and papers to write, Tyler would make me help him study for tests by quizzing him for an hour or more, the night before. But to do that I would have to read all his notes, and his book chapters and study guides, so I knew what was being tested. (I might as well have taken all his classes as well as my own, because I was learning all of it anyway.) For his math class, I'd have to check all his work and let him know which problems he did wrong. For his English and Anthropology papers, he would write the first draft, and then as far as he was concerned, he was done. He said Shelly used to fix up his papers for him after he wrote one draft, and that system worked out well. Sure, I thought. Worked out well for you. So I would sit (naked) at his desk, on his laptop, and fix his spelling and grammatical errors, reorganize his topics, add stuff, take stuff out... whatever the professor's guidelines warranted. He got As on almost all of those papers. (Fortunately, he didn't *demand* As. He didn't care enough about grades for that. As long as the work was better than what he would have turned in, he was satisfied.)

I spent HOURS and HOURS each week smelling and licking Tyler's body. He was constantly thrusting his crotch, his butt, and his feet into my face. First they would be clothed and I'd have to breathe his scent. Eventually he'd be naked and I'd have to smell, lick, and suck. He loved to have me smell and lick him after he worked out with weights, or played basketball. I'd have to lick sweat off his feet, his legs, his balls... suck sweat out of his pubic hair, lick his ass all over, lick his ass crack, even lick his armpits sometimes. Usually this would end up with me having to suck his dick, too, and bring him to an orgasm and swallow his cum.

But where it all really became too much for me was when he started to require my help with his toilet business. I had to kneel beside him on the bathroom floor when he took a piss, and hold his dick. If any piss ended up on the rim of the bowl (which it usually did), he would make me lick it off. "That will teach you better aim," he said. He started making me get on my hands and knees and put my face between his thighs when he took a shit, so he could ask me how it smelled. Then he'd make me wipe his ass. To prove to him I'd done a good job, I had to lick his butt crack afterward, and then insert my tongue into his anus! Ack! So disgusting. 

But once he'd made me do that, he discovered he liked the feel of a tongue in his ass. He said Shelly licked his ass all the time, but she'd never stuck her tongue in it. He was going to have to make her do that, he said. In the meantime, he made me do it every day.

I decided having to stick my tongue in my roommate's butthole was the last straw. I mean, of course, I hated everything he made me do (which was virtually everything), I hated having NO freedom and having him controlling every aspect of my life, I hated eating cum, and sucking his dick... He spoke of us "helping each other" to get off, but he didn't suck MY dick (not that I wanted him to), stick his tongue in MY ass, or eat MY cum. Everything was what HE wanted to do, which he justified with the notion that when you put any two people together, one has to be the leader. Apparently I was too much of a dumbass to make any decisions myself, or to make myself cum on my own without his "help". He talked of us being "great roommates" and "getting along well", but of course achieving that was a matter of him being in total control.

I had to do something.



The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 04



So one Thursday afternoon, I decided to skip my 2:15 class and go see about a roommate reassignment. Since Tyler kept tabs on me every minute of the day, I could only do this when he thought I was in class. I went to the office of the Director of Resident Life, one Kelly Smeltzer, and asked the receptionist if she was in, and if I could see her. What about? I was asked. "My roommate and I don't get along, and I'd like to request a change." I was told I needed to fill out a request form, and Ms. Smeltzer would review it and contact me. Damn, I thought. I wonder how long that takes. 

I filled out the form and left it with the receptionist. Ms. Smeltzer e-mailed me the following Monday, and told me she'd scheduled an appointment for me, for 9:45 AM Wednesday. I thought, Crap. I don't have class then, and Tyler knows it. He would expect me to be in the dorm room. But HE would be in class during that time, so he wouldn't know I wasn't actually there. As long as the meeting was over and I could get back to the room by, say, 10:25, I should be safe.

Kelly Smeltzer called me into her office, from the reception area, at 9:51 Wednesday. She was quite a stunning woman, dressed very smartly in business attire. She had very piercing eyes which made me feel kind of intimidated. I guessed she was in her late 20s. We sat down, and she said, "So David, I read your request. You didn't provide much detail. You just said you're not getting along with your roommate. So... why not? What's going on?"

"Well... um... my roommate, Tyler... um... well, we don't have any common interests. He works out with weights, he plays basketball... you know... he likes to watch sports on TV. I'm not really into any of that. Um... you know, I'm here to learn... I'm here for academics... um... He's an OK student, but... um..."

"OK, so you and Tyler have different interests. Guess what? When I was in school, my roommate and I had different interests. What did you expect? Someone who was exactly like you?"

"Well, no, but... I mean, I understand I can't expect... um..."

"Do you have any brothers and sisters, David?"

"No."

"So you're an only child. Well, you know, one of the things you'll have to learn in college, then, is how to share a room with someone else. Developing relationship skills is just as important as anything else you learn in college."

"I know, but-"

"So let me guess. Tyler has some habits you find annoying."

"Yes!"

"Like what?"

"Well... ummm..." What could I tell her here? That he makes me suck his dick? THAT annoyed me. But I couldn't very well tell her that, or that he makes me stick my tongue in his butthole, or lick his feet. "OK, here's one: He insists we leave the bathroom door open. All the time."

"Why does he want the door open?"

"I don't know, really. He wants us to still be able to talk, I guess? When one of us is in there and the other is out in the room?"

She shrugged. "Well, he sounds friendly, like he wants you two to get to know each other well, and be friends. Is your privacy so important that you can't accommodate this preference of his?"

"Uhhh... well, it's just... I mean... let's say he's... you know... going number two... um..."

"He leaves the door open and talks to you? And the smell comes out into the room?"

"Yes! And... you know, I don't-"

"David, you two are *guys*. I guess you haven't seen very many movies, but you know what? Guys in dorms find taking dumps to be a rich source of entertainment: humor, games, contests, hahaha. Bonding, even. Yeah. 'Hey, check out this one, it's like a foot long!' Hahaha. 'NICE, dude!' And as far as the smell, the more rank it is, the more you two can laugh. *Congratulate* him! Hahaha. Or... if you absolutely can't stand it, then get some air freshener and spray it in the room. This is just not a big deal, David." Her tone was very matter-of-fact and, I thought, a touch hostile.

"Well, but... OK, fine, maybe I can deal with him leaving the door open when he's in there... but... I'd like to have some privacy... you know... when I..."

"But David, if he thinks leaving the door open and talking to you when HE's in there helps you guys bond, then it's kinda rude for you not to return the favor. You see what I mean? How do you think it would make HIM feel for you to shut the door on him?"

I sighed, and decided to try a different complaint. "OK... forget about the door, then. Um... another thing is, He's messy..."

"And you're a neat freak?"

"Um... I don't know if I'm a neat *freak*, but-"

"You like to keep the place straightened up."

"Yes."

"Well, if his stuff is in your way, ask him to pick it up. If he won't, move it out of your way. When you really can't stand stuff lying around, pick it up yourself. Problem solved. You know what? If you just pick it up, and don't complain, or bitch at him, I bet he will appreciate it, and he might even start picking up after himself, to be considerate towards you. But you're gonna need to make an effort here, David. You can't just grumble and complain every time your roommate does something that slightly annoys you. 

"You've had 18 years at home as an only child, and never had to worry about this kind of stuff. But now it's time for you to learn how to live with your peers, David. It's time to learn we are all different, we all have different habits, some people are neater, some people are messier, some people are outgoing, some are more reserved, some like sports, some don't, and on and on and on. We can't reassign people every time someone is slightly annoyed by their roommate.

"Try to be Tyler's friend, David. Learn to get along with him. You're not getting a new roommate. Good day."

I sat in my chair, stunned, feeling like I'd just gotten in trouble. I thought to myself, But wait! We've only scratched the surface of this roommate issue! He's made me a total slave! I knew I couldn't really tell her THAT; I doubted anyone would believe it. And those details were so intensely embarrassing for me that I knew I couldn't bring myself to speak of them. Plus, something told me Kelly Smeltzer would advise me to just *refuse* to do things Tyler "commanded" me to do. 

But... even without that, there was still more I COULD tell her. What about him expecting me to do his laundry? What about him texting me all the time and keeping tabs on my whereabouts? (Well, on second thought, I probably couldn't bring that up without being asked to show her texts that said things like 'may i go potty now?') 

As I thought about these things, I opened my mouth once or twice, false starts to further complaints, which I decided not to voice. Ms. Smeltzer fixed her intimidating stare on me, and finally raised an eyebrow as if to say, "Well? Are you going to leave now?" I slumped my shoulders, and got up to leave. As I got to the door, I said, "Um... thank you for your time."

"And I forgive you for wasting it," she said.

After closing her office door, I checked my phone and saw that Tyler had sent a text about five minutes earlier. It said "where r u?" Quickly I replied and said "in the room". 

Arriving back at the room at 10:22, I unlocked the door, walked through it, and stopped in my tracks. There was Tyler, sitting on the futon! His phone lay beside him. I closed the door, and Tyler, his eyes fixed on the TV screen, said, "Put your backpack down right there, and take all your clothes off." 

Once I was naked, he said, "My class let out early today. I came back early and found roomie not where he's supposed to be. Mm, mm, mm. Bad roomie. Bad roomie who will have to go a week without cumming now. Where were you?"

"I had to go to an appointment."

"What kind of appointment?"

"Um... I had to go see the Director of Resident Life. She called me in."

"For what?"

"Um... I guess just to ask me how my first semester was going."

"When did she call you?"

"Well, she e-mailed me, actually."

"When?"

"Monday."

"Monday? And gave you an appointment for this morning?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"Um... well, I forgot about it until after class today."

"What time was the appointment?"

"9:45."

"Your class lets out at 9:20. You had time to text me and tell me where you were going. You know you can't go anywhere without letting me know."

"Um... I'm sorry... I just... um... felt in a hurry."

"Hmmmm... well, you know... that doesn't explain why you lied to me five minutes ago, and told me you were here in the room, when you were not."

"I know... um... I, uh... I just thought... since I hadn't told you about the appointment... you'd be mad if I told you about it afterward... so..."

"So you figured since I should be in class and not here, you could lie to me and I wouldn't know."

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"Put your clothes back on." As I did so, he went to his desk and looked at his laptop. "Let's see... Director of Resident Life... Kelly Smeltzer... Pantana Hall... Room 156. OK, Davey. Let's go down to Pantana Hall."

When we got there, Tyler went to the receptionist and said, "Hi. I wonder if we could see Ms. Smeltzer. Do you think you could let her know that David has come back, with his roommate Tyler, and if she has just a few minutes, we'd like to talk to her?" 

The receptionist called Kelly Smeltzer, and then said, "Go right in."

When we entered, Ms. Smeltzer stood up, walked out from behind her desk, and approached Tyler. "Hiiii. You're Tyler?" She extended her hand.

"Yes, ma'am." Tyler shook her hand. 

"Pleasure to meet you."

"Ah, the pleasure's all mine. My goodness, Davey didn't mention what a beautiful woman you are."

"Ahhhh," she pointed at him in a gesture of mock-scolding. "Now, now. Be careful, big boy."

"You must be pretty new in this job, what are you, about 23?"

"Ha! I'm 31, actually."

"Oh my god. I honestly can't believe that. You look so young. You're so fit. You must work out."

"I do, actually, and thank you. Have a seat, boys. What's up?"

"Well," Tyler said. "Davey told me he'd just met with you, to discuss how college life was going so far."

"Um. Yeah, kind of. The subject, specifically, was how you and he were getting along."

"Oh, I see. So do you call all the freshmen in to check in with them on that? Because I haven't yet gotten any e-mail about an appointment like that."

"Well, no, students usually make appointments with us if they have an issue they want to discuss."

Oh, shit, I thought. So Tyler has just caught me in another lie, since I told him *she* initiated our appointment. 

"Oh, OK, well, you know, Davey told me about the meeting, and I suggested we both come in so that the three of us could work out any issues. He agreed that that'd be a good idea. So that's why we're here."

Kelly Smeltzer gave a nod of impressed approval, and said, "Well, good. I think that was an excellent suggestion, Tyler, and I commend you, David, for agreeing to it. So Tyler, from your point of view, how are you two getting along?"

"I think we get along great! We spend a lot of time together, and, you know, even though Davey isn't into lifting weights and sports and stuff, he helps me study for tests, and helps me keep the room clean, and stuff like that. He offered to teach me to do laundry. I never did stuff like that at home. So, you know... I like Davey a lot. He's cool."

"I notice you call him Davey. Is that what most people call you, David?"

"No," I said. "I've always gone by David."

"Well, see... Tyler's found a friendly nickname for you. David sounds a little formal, don't you think? Davey is more familiar, something you'd call a buddy."

I found "Davey" belitting, but, OK, whatever.

"I guess from our conversation earlier, David," she continued, "I underestimated the degree to which you really are trying to make it work with your roommate. You didn't tell me you helped Tyler with school work, and offered to teach him how to do laundry. Very nice. Did he teach you to do laundry, Tyler?"

"Well, he ended up just agreeing to do mine and his. It's just easier that way. My mom and girlfriend have always done mine, you know, and picked up after me and stuff. I never really learned any of that."

"Do you have brothers and sisters, Tyler?"

"No."

"Oh, so you're an only child, too. So you and David have that in common."

"Yes."

"Oh, well, see, David? Actually I'll call you Davey. Because, like I said, David is more formal, and you know what, Davey? If there's any problem here at all - which I don't think there is - but if there's ANY problem, it's that you need to learn to loosen up and not be so uptight. Don't you agree, Tyler? Don't you think Davey needs to loosen up a little?"

"Yes," he said. "In fact, I've told him that. I mean, don't get me wrong, I think Davey's great. I like him a lot. But you know what he was doing the first day I met him, the day before classes started? He was sitting at his desk reading the books for his classes - that hadn't even started yet! - and taking notes. Haha. I mean..."

"Oh my god," Ms. Smeltzer said, shaking her head. "That's not normal, Davey."

"I know, right?" said Tyler, and they both continued to laugh at me. I wished the ground would swallow me up.

"Well, Tyler," Ms. Smeltzer continued, "I appreciate the fact that you can accept Davey's personality and habits, and that they are different from yours. I think, so far, you're doing a great job of trying to get along with your roommate. You are an example of how it should be done. Many freshmen have difficulty adjusting to living with someone else for the first time, and most of the challenge is just to accept that any two people are always different. And also, each one has to take responsibility for making it work. If one won't, the other still needs to make an effort. So you've shown the willingness to make that effort regardless of whether Davey will.

"So it's clear to me that Davey just needs a little push from you to learn how to loosen up, and not to be so uptight. So Davey, what I expect from you now, is to accept those little pushes from Tyler. He has already taken the lead to make sure you two get along well, and Tyler, I want you to continue to take the lead. Now, Davey had mentioned to me that you like to keep the bathroom door open?"

"Yeah. You know, I think, why not? It's just us there. We can still talk to each other... you know..." He shrugged.

"Right. That's what I told Davey. It's a male bonding thing. So I'm gonna establish that as a rule. The door stays open all the time."

"I'm cool with that," Tyler replied. Of course he was.

"Good. Now as far as other privacy matters, I know this subject will probably make you uncomfortable, Davey, but in college you need to get used to open talk about certain subjects. Sexuality, for example. You mentioned you have a girlfriend, Tyler? Is she local? Are you from here in Trentstown, or somewhere else?"

"I'm from Keenesburg. My girlfriend's there."

"Oh, wow, Keenesburg. That's pretty far away. How about here? Are you dating anyone here?"

"No."

"OK, how about you, Davey? Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No," I replied.

"I didn't think so. Are you gay, straight, or bi, Davey?"

"Um. I'm straight."

"Do you think Tyler's a nice-lookin' guy?"

"Uh. What?"

"It's a simple question. You say you're straight, and I believe you. But do you think Tyler's a nice-looking guy?"

"Well... um... yeah, he is."

"Good, so you're able to say that. And you're right, he is. He's really fit, he takes good care of himself. He carries himself with confidence. He speaks with confidence. You could learn a lot from him. Oh, and he has a girlfriend, and you don't. That should tell you something, too. So, anyway, back to sexuality. Since neither of you has a girl here, and since you're both young men, obviously you each masturbate. Have you worked out any kind of agreement involving your privacy in that respect?"

"No," said Tyler. "What do you suggest?"

"Well, I am quite certain Davey needs to loosen up when it comes to sex, just like with practically everything else. I want you to help him. Do you watch porn in the room, Tyler?"

"No... I don't really need it. I usually just talk to my girlfriend on the phone."

"Ohhh. I see." Kelly Smeltzer smiled. "OK, so when you masturbate, you're on the phone with her?"

"Yeah."

"Would you be willing to put the phone on speaker and let Davey listen to these conversations?"

"Sure," Tyler shrugged.

"OK, so... I'm going to set some rules here. Rule number one: Tyler, I want you to masturbate with Davey present, and Davey, I want you to watch. Listen to Tyler and his girlfriend while they talk, and pay close attention, and watch Tyler masturbate. Davey, you will not be allowed to also masturbate during these sessions. You will instead focus on what Tyler and his girlfriend are doing. You should also assist them if they desire. So Tyler, if you need a tissue, or... I don't know, need Davey to bring you something. Need him to help you clean up afterward. Or if your girlfriend has something in mind, a way Davey can help. Whatever. 

"See, Davey, you're a good student when it comes to academics, and you help Tyler with that stuff. But you need to become a student of sexuality, too, and Tyler can help you with that. So I want you to be just as studious with Tyler's lessons as you are in classes.

"Now, like I said, while you're masturbating, Tyler, Davey is not allowed to touch himself. But when you are finished, if you think Davey has been an attentive enough student, then you can allow him to masturbate as well, under your supervision and direction - still involving your girlfriend if you want, but that's up to you. So, when YOU masturbate, Davey, class is still in session, and Tyler is the teacher. Rule number two is: Davey, you will only masturbate with Tyler's permission. If there is any reason you are not willing to allow it, Tyler, then Davey cannot do it. Now, I know what you're thinking, Davey: How will Tyler know whether I'm playing with myself when he's not around? Well, I have a solution to that problem. When we are done here, you and I will talk alone for a few minutes, Tyler.

"Does all this sound good to you, Tyler?"

"Yes! These are very good rules, I think. Are there other rules you think would be good for us?"

"Well, I think that should do it for now. Like I said, the bathroom door open is a rule. And I'll leave it to you, Tyler, to set whatever other rules you think would be good. And Davey, you will accept them, whatever they are, because like I said, Tyler has shown the ability to take the lead in seeing that you two get along. So... I guess another rule is, Davey, you are never allowed to complain about anything. Not to Tyler, and not to me. Or anyone else, for that matter. Because, quite frankly, Davey, you're a whiner. And you need to learn to accept things that are out of your control.

"Like I said, Tyler, any time Davey complains, or breaks any rules, a good punishment is to withhold masturbation from him. And again, I have a way to ensure that you're able to do that. We'll talk after I dismiss Davey. Davey, what I want you to do, today, is write out a very nice, very long, detailed, handwritten thank-you letter to me, expressing appreciation for all the time I've taken out of my schedule to help you and Tyler adjust to college life, and to living together. It should be at least one entire page, but I would err on the long side, if I were you. 

"Then I want you to write another, similar letter to Tyler, thanking him for his friendship, his tolerance of some of your annoying personality traits, and for being so willing to put a lot of energy into making your roommate situation good. You will also express to him your desire to be schooled in the ways of sex, and pledge your complete cooperation for anything he wants to do in this regard, and promise to follow any rules he sets for your roommate arrangment, now and in the future. You're dismissed, Davey."




The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 04



Mortified, I rose from my chair, and slowly lifted my backpack to my shoulder. Noting the time, I said to Tyler, "Um. Should I... go ahead and go to my 11:30 class, you think?"

"Yes. Call me when you get out."

Ms. Smeltzer said, "Oh, that was very considerate and respectful, Davey. See, I think if you make a regular habit of showing Tyler respect, things will work out much better for you."

"Um. Yes, ma'am," I said, with my eyes lowered.

"I'll expect that letter by tomorrow morning, Davey."

"Yes... ma'am... um... Thank you again for your time."

Walking to my 11:30 class, I almost couldn't see the sidewalk in front of me, thanks to the tears in my eyes.

Later that day, Tyler said, "Wow, that was a GREAT meeting! I'm really glad you went in to see her. See, she confirmed we've been doing everything right! Of course, you lied to me about her being the one that called you in, Davey. So I'm a little upset about that. So that's gonna be another week with no cumming for you. And you ALSO lied about the purpose of the meeting. You said she just wanted to ask how things were going; actually you went to her with complaints. Kinda hurts my feelings, Davey, to be honest with you. Instead of telling me about it, you went around me and went to her. So that's worth a third week of no cumming, I think. Three weeks. Whew! That's gonna be rough, Davey. But it's OK. I know you're a little stubborn sometimes, but you eventually learn."

I can't win. Tell *him* my complaints? Are you kidding me?? I've TRIED! He ignores them, or just thinks I'm wrong, or punishes me and make things even worse than whatever I originally complained about.

I asked him what he and Ms. Smeltzer talked about after I left, and he said, "Well, like she said, she had a way to make sure you couldn't masturbate without my permission. I already know I don't really need to worry about that, because I know you don't. But her idea WAS better. I'm not supposed to tell you about it yet, though. She's gonna call us in to meet with her next week, and tell us both."

"But YOU know what it is?"

"Yeah, I know. But she told me not to tell you yet."

The next few nights, thanks to Kelly Smeltzer, my humiliation took on an added dimension as I had to listen in on Tyler and Shelly's phone sex. With Shelly on speaker, Tyler told her all about how Ms. Smeltzer had put Tyler in charge of my masturbation, and how I was required to listen in when they talked. How I wasn't allowed to touch myself while they were talking, and how when I DID touch myself, it could only be with Tyler present, approving, and directing. Shelly listened with great interest. She was absolutely fascinated. I can't count the number of times she said, "Wowwwwwww", or "Oh my gaaahhhhhhd." And any time he told her of anything that involved Tyler being in complete control, and me being completely powerless, she'd say, "Sweeeet." 

He told her, "She also said when we're on the phone, if there's anything YOU wanna tell Davey, or make him do, that would help us out, you could feel free to tell him."

"Sweeeet," she said.

"So I was thinking, you know... a lot of times you describe exactly how you would lick my balls, or stroke my dick, or suck it... I was thinking, why don't we have Davey actually DO what you're describing. You know, he can be like your substitute. Not only would it give him first-hand experience on particular sex acts, but you'd have the satisfaction of knowing that what you wanted to do to me is actually being done."

"So you're allowed to actually tell him to... do things like that?"

"Yeah, Ms. Smeltzer said anything we needed."

"Sweet! Yes! That's a great idea!"

I disagreed. Not that anyone was asking me. And of course, Tyler had already been making me suck his dick. He just hadn't ever told Shelly he was doing so. I was absolutely shocked that Tyler's girlfriend would think it was "sweet" for anyone else but her to be sucking his dick - let alone a guy! But I guess in her mind, it was better for a guy, who didn't enjoy it, to do it, than another girl who WOULD. 

So now I had to endure sessions where Shelly would describe all the things she wanted to do to Tyler, and I was required to actually carry out the acts. One night, while "Shelly" was licking Tyler's ass, he said, "Mmm, that's good, baby. Why don't you slip your tongue right IN my ass... you wanna do that, baby?"

"Oooooh. Nasty. You nasty boy. You want my tongue IN your ass? Like right in your asshole?"

"Mmm, yeah, baby, slide it in. Come on, taste my ass, you nasty bitch."

"Ohhhh, I can't believe you're gonna make me do something so dirty."

"You know you want to. Look, I'm grabbing you by the hair. Come on, you know you're a dirty little slut, tongue my asshole."

"Ohhhhh. OK... OK, I'll do it. I'm slipping my tongue in. Mmmmmmm. Oh my gahhhhd. Oh my god, you taste so hot."

"Yeah, you like that, baby?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Yeah, lick it some more, come on. That's it, you nasty bitch, get your tongue way up in my asshole."

"Mmmmmmmmmm."

"Tell me you're a dirty little slut for me."

"Oh yeah, you know I'm a dirty little slut for you."

"Ohhh yeah..."

"Mm, wait. Did Davey say it, too? Did Davey say 'I'm a dirty little slut for you' when I said it? Did he also say it?"

"No."

"Well, he should say it, too, don't you think?"

"Mm, yeah, you're right."

So, from then on, whenever he told her to say something like that, I had to say it, too. And Shelly loved hearing it. She would say, "Oh my gahhhhhd, that is so hot."

One night, Shelly said she really wanted Tyler to fuck her. She still wanted me to act out what they were doing, in her place. So they got the idea that I could put lotion in my butt-crack, which would substitute for Shelly's pussy. If Tyler was supposedly fucking her from behind, he would have me either on my belly, or on hands and knees, and he would slide his dick between my butt cheeks to simulate fucking. Or he might have me on my back (if they wanted to do it in the missionary position), and I'd hold my dick and balls away, so he could slide his dick underneath, but still use my butt cheeks like a pussy. 

After he came, he'd say things like, "Ohhhh that was good, baby. Why don't you put a finger in your pussy and then taste my cum off your finger."

She'd say, "Mmmmm. Yeahhh. Mmmm, that tastes good. I'm licking your cum off my finger." Then, "Is Davey doing it? Is he tasting your cum off his finger?"

Tyler would confirm that I was, and she'd say, "Oh my gahhhhhd. That is SOOOO hot. Wowwwwww."

When Tyler and I met with Kelly Smeltzer in her office the following week, she locked her door behind us. She invited Tyler to take a seat if he wanted, but directed me to stand in a certain spot. She sat down behind her desk, and said, "OK. Davey. I want you to drop your pants and underwear."

"What!!??"

"Did I stutter? Drop your pants, and your underwear, to your ankles. I know it will be slightly embarrassing for you, but I already know that since you and Tyler have been following the masturbation rules, you've seen his penis, and if he hasn't already seen yours, he will. It's not a big deal. Think of me as a doctor if it helps, but on the other hand, here's a pretty woman telling you she wants to see you with your pants down, so what's the problem?"

"But... I mean... Is this... allowed? I mean, you're... Does the university..."

"Would it be allowed in a doctor's office? You're being uptight, Davey, and this is one of the things we've said we need to work on, isn't it? Come on, loosen up. Drop your pants and your underwear."

"OK..." I complied. 

"OK, good. Now I want you to put your hands behind your back." 

Again, I complied. At that point, she opened a desk drawer and produced two sets of handcuffs. I thought, What the fuck!!?? As she walked around behind me, she said, "OK, Davey. I want you to stay here, in place, so just to make sure you do, I'm going to cuff your wrists, and also your ankles. Don't be alarmed. Tyler is here to witness what's happening. You're perfectly safe. And of course, ha! Don't start getting excited, because this is not some kinky sex play. If I were going to fool around with a student, it certainly wouldn't be you."

Gee, thanks, I thought.

Though I was nervous, I did not, in fact, become alarmed by the cuffs. But I *certainly* became alarmed when I found out why my pants were down. Ms. Smeltzer produced some other equipment from her desk drawer, some pieces of steel. Sitting in her desk chair and rolling it forward to me, she proceeded to attach these pieces of steel to my genitals! 

"What is that???" I asked, looking down in fear.

"This, Davey, is what is called a chastity device. This is a *locking* device which can be placed on the penis to ensure masturbation cannot occur. This tube will keep your penis pointed downward, making ejaculation impossible. Even erection will cause discomfort, although as you can see, the end of this tube is hollow, so your penis can, in fact, become fully rigid, if you're very aroused. It will just be forced to point downward, so it'll be uncomfortable."

Even though she said the thing was lockable, my eyes widened when she slipped a padlock on it and then removed the key! "This," she said, "is for you, Tyler. I'll also let you take these cuffs with you. This way, if you like, you can cuff him before you take the device off him, to ensure that he'll let you put it back on later. And you might find other uses for those cuffs, who knows, haha." She handed the key to Tyler, and then went back around her desk to sit behind it. 

"What if I have to go to the bathroom?" I asked.

She answered, "Well, you won't be able to use a urinal, but other than that, there's no problem. You'll just have to sit down to pee. Like a girl. It won't hurt you to become more familiar with what it's like to be a girl."

Reclining in her office chair, she smirked at me and said, "So... how do you feel, Davey?"

I sniveled, and said, "I... feel... kind of ridiculous... and embarrassed."

"Do you?" She smiled. "Well, I won't deny you look a little ridiculous. Haha." Then I saw something that Tyler could not see. I saw Kelly Smeltzer slide a hand down the front of her skirt. I stared in disbelief at the hand, unable to turn my gaze away from it, wondering where it was going, or what it would do next. Her desk shielded Tyler from seeing what she was doing. But I could see it quite clearly.

"What do you think, Tyler. Do you think this device will be helpful?"

"Yes. Definitely!"

"I think so, too. So you're in control of that key. Only use it when you're fully satisfied by Davey's... shall we say, submission... to your tutelage." Ms. Smeltzer had by now unfastened the top of her skirt, in front, revealing the top of her panties. I thought to myself, Surely the university would not allow something like THIS? Thinking of her as a doctor didn't seem to still apply; I never had a doctor partially undress in front of me.

"Tyler, could I ask you for two favors?"

"Absolutely."

"First, could you remain seated there until I ask you to get up?"

"Sure."

By now her hand had completely disappeared below the waistband of her panties. The fingers of her other hand were tucked slightly between two of the buttons of her blouse. She seemed to be lightly touching her bra, just near her cleavage. "The second thing is, I want Davey to have some time to get used to wearing that device. Will you promise me you won't unlock it for at least a week?" I could see now from the movement of Ms. Smeltzer's wrist above her panties, that the fingers below were doing something. 

"Oh, that won't be a problem," Tyler said. "He told me a couple of fibs, so he's not scheduled to cum again for another two weeks."

"Hhhhhh, really?" Ms. Smeltzer swallowed, and I saw that her face appeared to be a little flushed. I stood watching her, with a pained look on my face. What she was doing right in front of me seemed highly inappropriate. And I didn't understand what exactly it was that made her feel in the mood to do it anyway. I did find out what kind of effect the steel tube on my dick had, though, when I became aroused. I winced as my dick pointed painfully downward. 

"What did he fib to you about?" she asked.

"His whereabouts. Kinda hurt my feelings, you know? We're supposed to be friends," was Tyler's answer.

"Mmmmm. Indeed. Lying is not good for a friendship."

"I agree. Plus I don't see why he can't tell me where he is, if I ask."

"I hadn't thought of withholding masturbation from him for doing things you feel are inconsistent with your friendship. You really have a good handle on how this roommate/friendship/getting-along should work, Tyler. I'm not sure you really need me to make suggestions. I think from here on, you should just make any rules you think are appropriate, to guide and correct Davey's behavior. Perhaps one should be that he's required to inform you of his whereabouts at all times," she offered, as I saw her lick her lips, then bite her bottom lip as she fingered herself a bit more rapidly.

"Oh, that's already a rule I made."

"Really? Hhhhh..."

For a few moments nothing was said. Ms. Smeltzer was obviously trying very hard to control her breathing, but Tyler and I could both hear it through her nose. I glanced at Tyler a couple of times, and he was looking back and forth between us, inquisitively. 

Finally she cleared her throat, and tried to act nonchalant as she grabbed a tissue from her desk. I saw her bring it below, and wipe the fingers that been in her panties. She refastened her skirt in a sly way so Tyler wouldn't know what she was doing, and regained her composure. She got up from her chair to bend down and inspect my chastity tube. "Hmmm. Come take a look, Tyler. He is erect inside here, see? It's possible that the head may actually poke out the end if he's very *very* aroused. His penis may be too small for that, though."

Then she stood up, in front of me, and licked her lips. "OK, boys. I guess that's all. Here are the keys to the cuffs, Tyler. I'll let you go ahead and un-do the cuffs, if you're ready. Do you have any instructions for him first, or anything?"

Tyler said, "Well, I think maybe before his pants are up, and before I take the cuffs off, maybe he should show you his gratitude - by the way, Davey, Ms. Smeltzer bought these items for us. She paid for them out of her own pocket. So I think maybe it'd be nice if Davey went to his knees? And scooted up to you to thank you for everything you've done for us?"

"Oh," said Ms. Smeltzer, by now seated again in her chair. "Well, if you think that's the most appropriate way to say thank you... sure. I mean, like I've said, you're in charge, so whatever you think is best."

After dropping to my knees, scooting forward a foot or two, and looking up at Kelly Smeltzer to express my thanks for all she'd done "for us", Tyler asked her if she would be comfortable placing her feet flat on the floor in front of me, as he thought it would be very nice of me to kiss the tops of her shoes. She said, "Oh, my. Well, again... sure, if you think that's best." So I had to sit back on my heels, and then strain forward, to reach Ms. Smeltzer's shoes and kiss her feet, again expressing my thanks. When I raised my head back up, she said, "Well, you're welcome, and that was very considerate and respectful of you, Davey." I saw that her face was flushed again, just as when she'd had her hand down her panties.

Once Tyler un-cuffed me, and I pulled my pants back up, Ms. Smeltzer said, "OK, Tyler, drop by any time to tell me how things are going. And when he does, Davey, I had better receive a good report on you."

In a resigned voice, I said, "Yes, ma'am." As we left, I thought I heard Kelly Smeltzer's breathing intensifying again.



The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 05



The first night sleeping in the chastity device was SUCH intense frustration. I actually cried. I hadn't cum for a week, and I thought, Oh God, how am I going to last TWO MORE in this thing? Of course, bedtime was preceded by a session with Tyler and Shelly on the phone, first listening to her amazed fascination with the chastity tube and how "oh my gahhhhhhd" it was "SOOOOO hot" that my dick was locked up and there was no way I could cum without the device off me, and how it was "sweet" that Tyler had the key. 

That was followed by me acting as Shelly's stand-in as Tyler got his balls and dick gobbled, his ass licked, his asshole tongued, and then got to fuck "Shelly" from behind. Afterwards, "she" scooped his cum out of "her pussy" and licked it all up. When they were done, Shelly said, "So she gave you handcuffs, too? Are you gonna use 'em to cuff Davey's wrists to the bedposts tonight and make him sleep that way?"

"Do you think I should?" he asked.

"Oh my gahhhhd. That would be so hot."

"Yeah, I'll do that. I'll use ropes to tie his ankles to the other posts, too."

"So is he hard now?"

"Yeah, his dick head is just sorta peeking out the bottom. He's got precum leaking from it."

"Wowwwww. But he can't cum?"

"Nope."

"Oh my gahhhd. So hot. So if he's lying in bed, and all horny like that, will he be able to sleep?"

"Eventually. Probably. I don't know."

"But he might just lie there all night and be horny and not be able to do anything about it?"

"Maybe."

"Then in the morning he'd have to go to class, but he'd still be all horny. Oh my gahhhd, that'd be hot. Would he start whimpering, you think?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe you should put a piece of duct tape on his mouth, in case he does."

"Good idea. Yeah, I'll do that."

"Oh my gahhhhhd. Oh wait! I just had an idea. Can you put your phone like... somewhere on that thing that's on his dick? Like, can you attach it somehow? And put it on vibrate? 'Cause if you can, I think I'm gonna stay up late tonight, and keep calling the phone. It would vibrate on his dick. You think you can do that!?"

"I can probably just duct-tape it. Yeah, that would work."

"Oh my gahhhd. I might just stay up all night. I don't have to work 'til the dinner shift tomorrow. Oh my god I can just keep calling. You think that'll drive him crazy? With the phone buzzing on there?"

"Hahaha, I'm sure it will."

"Wowww, oh my gahhhd. So hot."

Hot for her, maybe. Sheer torture for me. Almost the entire night, I felt periodic buzzing on the tube encasing my dick. Even if I managed to nod off, I'd awaken every time she called. No doubt she was watching TV or enjoying herself there in Kennesburg, 8 hours away, gleefully reveling in the torment of a poor boy she'd never even met, knowing he was lying in the dark, spread-eagle on his back, cuffed and tied, sleepless and intensely horny, but helpless against her capricious torture. She would call about a dozen times in a row, then maybe wait a minute, and call another eight or nine times. Then I'd get a break for 10 or 20 minutes, and she would start again. I prayed Tyler's phone battery would run down before morning. It didn't, but I think she did fall asleep around 3 or 4 AM, and I got a little uniterrupted sleep.

Three weeks without cumming just about drove me insane. I felt like I was in a trance almost all the time. Every moment, whether I was awake or asleep, I was thoroughly and completely powerless. Every single move I made was under Tyler's control. I did my schoolwork (and helped him with his) like an automaton, and the rest of the time I was cleaning the room, or licking Tyler's feet or butt, or licking his piss off the toilet bowl rim, or wiping his ass after he took a dump, submitting to his bondage and his socks in my face, and acting as Shelly's stand-in almost every night... getting my lotioned-up "pussy" fucked, sucking Tyler's dick, licking his asshole, and swallowing or licking up all of his cum. 

One night Tyler told Shelly he'd really like to try anal sex with her; did she think he'd be able to take his cock in her back door? She said, "Ooooh... I don't know. I've never done that. I'm a little nervous about it." So Tyler said they could start slow: First he'd lube up a finger and put it in her ass. Of course, HER ass was not available, so he put lotion on his finger and put it in MY ass. 

"Does that feel good, baby?"

"Mmmm," she cooed. "Yes. Oh, I love that. So you have your finger in Davey's ass, right?"

"Yep."

"Mmmm. So hot."

"Here, baby, taste it. I want you to taste your ass. I'm putting that finger to your mouth."

"Oh my gahhhhd. So nasty. OK, I'll taste it. ... Davey's tasting your finger, right?"

"Of course."

"Oh my gahhd. Wowww. Try putting two fingers in my ass, baby."

So of course Tyler worked up to two fingers, and then three, in MY ass, regularly pulling them out to have me suck them. I didn't like it. His fingers tasted... like ass, obviously. Not that I wasn't used to that taste by then. Better my own ass than his, I suppose.

It really hurt when he tried to put four fingers in, but he thought he might have stretched me out enough to try his dick. Even though he used plenty of lotion, he could barely fit the head in before I begged him to stop. It hurt too much. So he and Shelly agreed that we should stretch out "her" ass some more, over the next few days. That meant I was going to have either my fingers or his stuck up my ass at about every opportunity, all through the day. As for that night, they made me try and hold my asshole open with the index fingers of my two hands, and Tyler jacked off into my asshole, with his dickhead right up against it, so as much of his cum as possible would go in. Then Shelly said she wanted Tyler to put his finger in "her" ass and scoop his cum out so "she" could eat it. 

By the time my three weeks without cumming finally ended, Tyler and Shelly were able to have anal sex... meaning, of course, that I could listen to Shelly on the phone, saying "Oh my gahhhhd" and "sooo hot" while Tyler fucked my ass. Incredible amounts of pre-cum drooled from my dick, leaving wet spots all over my bedsheet. When Tyler and Shelly allowed me to cum that night, they decided it would be good for me to have to sleep with my cum all over my face to remind me, as I went to sleep that night, to continue to be "a good friend" to Tyler, and "be cooperative" as a roommate. So, after unlocking my chastity device, Tyler trussed me up so that my legs were over my head, and my dick pointed at my own face. He then jerked me off, aiming my dick so cum would splatter on every part of my face. Then he got a hot washrag and wiped my crotch, then let me air-dry as he untied the ropes, re-doing them after I was lying down. He asked if I needed to piss, and I did, so he got a jar and had me pee into it. Then he put the chastity tube back on me and locked it. He and Shelly said good night, and Tyler got in bed. But after about a half-hour, he decided he was horny again, so he decided to add another load of cum to my face. He slipped off his bunkbed, got into my bed, straddled my chest, and jerked himself onto my face. After taking a piss, he clumbed up into his bunk without a word, and went to sleep.

When fall semester ended, I asked Tyler to remove the chastity tube from me before I went home for the 3-week winter break. He said, "Just because you'll be in Bellewood and I'll be in Keenesburg doesn't mean we stop being friends. You'll still have rules to follow. I'll still need to know where you are at all times, you'll still need to ask my permission to do things, and I still need to know you can't jack off without me letting you."

"But how can you let me if the key is with you, a 12-hour drive away?"

"Hahaha. Simple. Make the 12-hour drive and come to Kennesburg."

"But I don't have a car. And I don't think my parents will let me borrow the car to go that far. They want me home for the whole break anyway."

"Well... your parents are coming to pick you up in a couple days, right?"

"Yeah."

"How about if I leave the key with your mom, and she and I-"

"Uhhhh... *no* ... that won't work."

"Why not??"

"I don't want my MOM to know there's a steel tube on my penis!"

"Why not? What's the big deal. Just explain to her why. She'd probably be thrilled to hear how Ms. Smeltzer is helping her son to be a cooperative roommate, and-"

"No. No. That... just... no, that won't work."

Tyler shrugged. "OK, well... there's not much I can do, then, Davey. You'll just have to wait 'til we get back here for you to cum, then."

I sniveled, and whimpered. Three weeks?? Again?? I barely survived the maddening frustration last time. It might be bearable if I could go home, and just enjoy the holidays and my family, and forget all about school, and - most importantly - forget all about Tyler! But obviously he intended to continue his complete control over my life, even long-distance. The first thing I had to do was order a dildo online, and have it sent to my house in Bellewood, so my asshole would stay stretched out and still be ready for Tyler's use when spring semester started. 

A couple days after getting home to Bellewood, Shelly and I finally got a look at each other. I was required to skype with Tyler and Shelly from my room whenever they wanted. I thought Shelly was OK-looking, but she was very skinny, her hair was bleached and her roots showed, and she wore too much eye shadow. She reminded me of all the girls from Bellewood High who didn't go to college, thought they were better than me, drove beat-up old sports cars, and now worked in the restaurants and factories. 

Every night I had to watch Tyler and Shelly have sex while they made me imitate whatever Shelly was doing, with the dildo in place of Tyler's cock. If he was fucking her, I had to fuck my ass and keep pace with him. If he pulled his dick out of her pussy to have her suck it, then I had to pull the dildo out of my ass and suck it. 

Shelly seemed to love seeing me do these things. She said sex with Tyler had always been hot, but it was super-hot having me involved. She couldn't wait to see me sucking Tyler's dick in person, licking his balls, his ass, his feet, having him fuck my ass. She asked me if I knew any gay guys in Bellewood. I said no. She said, "Ohhh, man... that sucks. I wanna see you doing those things to an actual person while Tyler and I are having sex here... Oh my god. That'd be SOOOO hot."

Tyler said he knew where I could find a man who might be willing. "Davey, there must be one of those porn shops around there, right? Like the kind of place with booths where you sit and pump quarters in to watch videos? There are always horny dudes hangin' around those places. I'm sure you could get one of those guys to come back to your house with you. You might have to suck him off there in the store first to let him know you're serious."

I sniveled. "You guyyyysss! I'm not GAY you know!"

"We know!" they said in unison. Shelly said, "That's not the point. The point is you do those things for Tyler at school, but Tyler's not there now. So there should be someone there to substitute for him. And the kind of guy we're talking about probably wouldn't be gay, either. He'd just be one of these guys that never gets any sex with women. Ooooh, and I just realized," she said, as she turned to Tyler, "What if it was some old, fat guy? You know? Or maybe he's just like really... rough and scuzzy, you know? Oh my god, just think how hot it would be for him, watching us by skype... he'd get to watch real, LIVE sex instead of watching videos at the porn place... and while he's watching us, Davey could be sucking him off and licking his ass or whatever he wanted... and he'd know he wouldn't have to worry about Davey because Davey's dick is locked up. Oh my gaaahhhhhhhhd! That'd be soooo hot!"

I whined. "You guys... I can't bring some strange guy back here to my house! What am I supposed to tell my parents??"

"You can go to his house," Tyler said. "Just take your computer and skype from there."

"You guys. Please don't make me do this. What am I supposed to do, go into the place and wander around and ask every guy I see if he wants to... to... go to his house and..."

"No, Davey, here's what you do: Go in there and sit in one of those booths and just watch videos. If the booth has a door, leave it open, but sometimes there's no door. When I've been in those places, guys will just lurk around, and one will poke his head into your booth. If you ignore him, he'll go away, because he knows you're not interested in what he's got in mind. But if you look at him, and say hello, he'll ask to join you. So all you have to do is look at him. He'll take it from there. He'll ask YOU if you wanna do something. He might ask if you want to come out to his car, or go get a hotel room, or whatever. 

"So just go in there and make yourself bait. That's all you have to do. When he finds out you're interested, wait for the right time and tell him you want to go to his place, and why. Tell him about us, and how we're gonna skype, and all that."

Shelly added, "Make sure he's an old guy, too. Preferably fat."

"Yeah," Tyler agreed. "If a younger guy comes by, don't look at him. Let him move on. Wait for an old, fat guy, haha."

So that night, I asked my parents to borrow the car so I could visit friends. After they went to bed, around 10:00, I jumped in the car, with my laptop, and drove to the seedy little porn shop at the Bellewood exit off the interstate. There was a truckstop at that exit, too, and a motel. All my life, I knew that little porn shop was there, but I'd never been in it. I figured it was probably mostly frequented by people passing through, but surely some local people went in there, too. I prayed to God none would be in there tonight to recognize me.

I followed Tyler's instructions and, after getting a fistful of quarters from the clerk, settled down into one of the viewing booths. Sure enough, men would appear like so many ghosts out of the shadows, and just hang around outside my door. Trying to judge their age with my peripheral vision, I reckoned the first three or four to be too young. But then a scraggly-looking man with a big beer belly darkened the entrance, and when I glanced up at his face, I guessed him to be in his 40s, or maybe even 50s. In a raspy voice, he said, "Hi. How 'bout some company?"

"OK," I said, nervously. He waddled into the booth, which was small enough that his belly nearly bumped against my face, then he turned around and started to sit. I realized I'd have to scoot way over to make room on the little bench for his wide behind. He grunted and wheezed as he sat. I was practically scrunched against the side wall.

Then he turned his face toward me, licked his lips, and said, "Hmmm. You're a spring chicken, ain't ya?" He had a thick Southern accent, so I knew he wasn't from Bellewood. "Must be a naughty little fagboy, hangin' 'round here lookin' for ol' bears like me."

Ol' bears?? I didn't even know what the hell he was talking about, but I didn't really have time to think about it, as he immediately reached around to fondle me, pull up my shirt and look at my chest, which he said he liked because it wasn't hairy. "Skinny little faggot, too, aren'tcha?" He was very intimidating as he leaned into me. His head was above the level of mine, and as he leaned in, I reflexively leaned away. But two walls kept me from really going anywhere. I felt his beard on my face as he took my earlobe in his mouth, and held it in his teeth, biting on it a little. He plopped his fat fingers right on my crotch, and I quickly took in breath. "God damn," he said, "Hard as a rock already. Horny lil' fucker... Wait. Wait a minute... That yer dick? That ain't yer dick, what is that?"

"Um... it's a ... it's a ... chastity device."

"Ha ha ha. Chazzy what? What the hell's a chazzy device?"

"Um... well... um... can we, uh... can we, maybe... go outside? So I can explain it to you, and ... um... explain why I'm here?"

"Heh heh. I think I know why you're here. I'll tell ya what, I'll do you one better. Let's go to my truck. It's right over here at the truck stop. C'mon."

Ah. A trucker. Well, this probably wouldn't work. Since the man wasn't local, we couldn't go to his house. And if he was a trucker, he probably wouldn't want to get a motel room. But when we got outside, I immediately started explaining the situation to the man. I wanted to finish before we got to his truck, because I really didn't want to get in it with him. I told him there was a couple, both 19 years old, who had the key to my chastity tube. For all practical purposes, I was their slave, and they were 12 hours away, so there was no way the device was coming off my dick that night. But they had made me come to the porn shop to find a man like him, who might want to watch them have sex by skype, and meanwhile use me for his pleasure.

"Hot... damn!" he said. "My lucky night. Yours too. I got satellite internet in my truck, boy. You call up your ... your masters there... or whatever you call 'em, and tell 'em we're in business!"

"Um... OK," I said (thoroughly disappointed). I called Tyler to tell him the news. He wanted to speak to the man, so I handed off my phone, and meanwhile got my laptop from my parents' car. 

The man's name was Dale. He was 46, a long-haul trucker who lived in South Carolina but traveled all over the country. He had never been married but had had occasional live-in girlfriends. His time on the road always made these relationships untenable, plus, as he'd gotten older, he'd developed a taste for young men, even though he insisted he wasn't gay. He'd just found that all over the country were "horny lil' faggots" who would do whatever he wanted, for free, and not expect him to do anything at all for them. He had a DVD player in his truck and would watch heterosexual porn while getting serviced by such young men. This was going to be even better.

I felt very vulnerable when we climbed into his sleeper cab and he pulled the curtain. He took up most of the space back there, and I felt dwarfed. Tyler and Shelly made it clear that Dale could do anything he wanted to me, and that I'd do anything he wanted for him.

He took full advantage. I had to suck Dale's dick, and lick his sweaty balls. "Been drivin' all day, boy, I know I must be sweaty down there." While he watched Shelly suck Tyler's dick, he made me lay on my back, and he got on his knees and straddled my chest. Facing the computer, and away from me, he stroked his dick while he sat on my face. Bringing his huge butt down on my mouth, he said, "Lick my hemorrhoids, ya little faggot." I almost gagged at the thought, plus I could see brown streaks when he spread his butt cheeks. "I had me a nice shit after dinner tonight, too... Not sure I wiped real good. You can take care o' that for me, though. Yeah, get yer little faggot tongue in there. Good boy."

I coughed a couple times to keep from gagging as I licked his sweaty, stinky ass. I heard Shelly say, "Oh my gahhhhhd. Look, Tyler. That is SOOOO hot. Dale... can you put the camera where we can see his chastity tube? Is his dick head pokin' out? Oh my god, it is, look. Look, it's poking out the end."

"Yep," said Dale. "Yer lil' slaveboy's leakin', too. Looka that." He showed them how I was oozing pre-cum from the end of my dick. Then he started flicking the head of my dick with his finger. I grunted, and flinched with my hips, as he flicked it over and over. "Mmmmmmph!" I complained, but he kept flicking, while Shelly said, "Oh my gahhhd, that's hot. Dale... do you wanna put a finger in his butt? Will you?"

"Whatever you want, little lady," he answered, and started fingering my butthole with one had while still flicking my dickhead with the other. This obviously distracted me from what I was supposed to be doing, so Dale said, "Hey, boy! I didn't tell ya to stop lickin' did I? Better keep that tongue workin', boy, I might have to take my belt to ya."




The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 05



"Oh my god," Shelly said. "Spanking him with your belt? I think you should, if he's not doing what you want him to."

"Reckon I should?" Dale asked.

"Oh my god, yes. You totally should if he's not doing a good enough job."

"Hear that, boy? The little lady says you're due for a whoopin'. I reckon she's right." 

He grasped me by the hair and pulled me around so I was on my hands and knees, facing away from the laptop, so my butt would be on display to Shelly and Tyler. I was told I'd better stay still. Shelly said, "Do you have any rope, Dale? Tyler uses rope when he doesn't want him to move."

"Yeah, I got me a rope here somewhere."

"What about duct tape?" Shelly asked. "If you're gonna spank him hard, you don't want someone outside to hear him."

"Oh, yeah, always got duct tape. I like the way you think, girl."

Dale tied a rope around my neck and then trussed me to a railing that ran along the side of the cab, above me. I couldn't pull my head downward at all. Then he used other ropes to tie my wrists and ankles so I had to stay put on all fours. Finally, he put a strip of duct tape over my mouth. 

Then began a hard beating to my ass, from his belt. He didn't hold back a bit, and I screamed into the duct tape. He kept whacking me, and soon tears flooded my eyes from the sting. I heard Shelly gush over how hot the sight was, and then Dale started whipping my back, and the backs of my thighs. He asked Shelly, "Reckon I oughtta give his balls a few whacks?"

"Oh my god, yes!"

So Dale applied the belt to my balls. Oh my god! The pain! I screamed and squealed, and did a little dance with my knees, in a futile attempt to escape the blows, or at least divert the sensations to another part of my body. 

I heard Shelly say, "Oh my god, Tyler, fuck me! Fuck me. Ohhhh my gahhhd. Dale, please don't stop. Keep whipping him while we fuck. Please?"

"You got it, darlin'," replied Dale, but mercifully, he resumed the blows to my ass, back, and thighs. It almost felt good after having my balls battered, and listening to Shelly's moans of pleasure made my dick twitch, throb, and leak all over Dale's sleeper mattress.

When Tyler and Shelly were done fucking, Dale enjoyed watching Shelly scoop his cum out of her pussy and lick it up. "God damn, Tyler, you got you a good one there, boy." Dale untied me, and while Shelly and Tyler watched, he fucked my ass. He turned me on my belly, spread eagle, with my feet facing the laptop, and he tied my wrists and ankles so I'd be fully splayed. Then he lowered his huge body onto mine. I could barely breathe with so much of his weight across my back. He spit on his fingers and lubed up my ass with his fingers, and then shoved his dick in. At least when Tyler fucked me in the ass, he made sure it was generously lubed, but Dale didn't care. If a little of his spit didn't do the job, too bad. He rammed into me again and again, and I grunted as I bounced against the sleeper mattress and mainly just tried to breathe. Naturally, Shelly found my suffering "so hot", as she watched this fat trucker, older than my father, pound me into his mattress again and again.

After he came in my ass, Shelly said she wanted me to see her eat his cum. This would be the first time she'd actually seen cum go in my mouth. She'd been waiting for this for months. Dale said, "Well, how 'bout I just move that cum outta his ass and right into mine, little lady? Whattaya thinka that?"

"Oh my gahhhd, really? Wowwww. Yeah, do that."

"Yer wish is my command, darlin'. Watch this." 

First Dale untied me, and then he thrust his fingers roughly into my ass to retrieve his cum. Those fingers then went directly to his butt crack, and I could see him screw up his face in concentration as he slipped them into his hole, trying to get as much of his cum in as he could. After doing that a few times, he grabbed my hair, and pulled my face between his huge ass cheeks. "Lick that outta there, boy. Therrrre ya go. Yeah, *suck* my cum outta there, ya little faggot. Yeah, that's it. Suck my fingers clean, too, boy, here ya go. Suck 'em. Now get yer tongue back in my ass."

Dale, Tyler, and Shelly all exchanged phone numbers, and I also had to give Dale my phone number. Tyler and Shelly told him he could call or text me anytime, and also, they wanted Dale to keep in touch and let them know whenever he would be in our area, so we could meet up again. "Do you know where Keenesburg is?" Tyler asked.

"Oh yeah, I know Keenesburg. Nice lil' rest'runt there called Maggie's, I eat there ever' time I pass through."

"That's where I work!" said Shelly.

"No shit? How long you worked there, darlin'?"

"About a year."

"Oh... well, I been through there in the last year, but I don't 'member seein' ya. I'll ask for ya next time. Well, course next time, you'll know I'm comin' anyway." 

Dale asked them if I minded if their "little faggot slaveboy" spent the night with him in his truck. Shelly immediately said, "No, we don't mind," but right on the heels of her eager agreement, I objected, "But I need to get home. My parents-"

"What time do you have to get up, Dale?" Shelly asked.

"Ohhhh, darlin', I gotta be on the road by 6. Probbly gettin' up about 5:30."

"So if you get home by 6, Davey, that's no problem, right?"

"Well... umm..." I knew *technically* it wasn't a problem - my parents would just be getting up around 6, so they certainly didn't need the car before then - but I did NOT want to have to spend the night in this truck! With this fat old belt-wielding man-rapist?? 

"Yeah, that's fine, Dale," she said. "Davey can get home by 6. If his parents are up, he can just say he spent the night at a friend's house."

"Works for me," Dale said. No one cared if it worked for me.

"Hey, Dale?" Shelly asked. "Can you leave the cam on? I'll be up pretty late tonight, and I'd like to see if anything else happens. Like if you get horny again and need Davey to suck you off or something. And I wanna see where and how you'll have him sleep, and ... just all that. Sometimes Davey's too horny to sleep very well, too. I wanna see that if it happens. Actually... if I talked to Davey, would that keep you awake?"

"Oh, hell, no, darlin', I can sleep through anything. You learn that real quick out here on the road, how to sleep when it's time. Don't matter if there's fireworks goin' off, or lights everywhere. Don't matter. When it's time to sleep, I sleep."

"Great."

"I'm gonna need to take a piss before I turn in. What about you, boy, you need to piss?"

I nodded. Shelly quickly said, "Say 'yes sir' Davey."

"Um... yes, sir."

"Make sure you call him 'sir'. Don't you think he should call you 'sir', Dale?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Dale said, in the typical Southern gentleman way. "Sure do."

Dale brought a plastic jug, half-filled with piss already (obviously his), up to the head of my dick. I peed into the jug, and then he said, "Now I'm gonna need me a piss." To Shelly he said, "You know, hun, us truckers, we use these jugs all the time, but whenever I find me a little fagboy out here on the road, sometimes I can just piss right in their mouths. Some of these fags can take piss right down their throats and not spill a drop. Y'ever make him drink piss?"

"Oh my gahhhd, really? No, we haven't."

"Well, be a shame to fill up my jug too fast, don'tcha think? I'd rather it just go down slaveboy's throat here."

"Oh my gahhhd, yes, that's fine." 

"I don't reckon he's gonna be able to take it all if he ain't done it before, so I'monna get a towel here." He then wrapped the towel around my neck, hanging it like a sort of bib, and made me take his dick in my mouth. When he unleashed his piss, it flooded my mouth so fast that most of it popped right back out, spilling on the towel and on his belly. I gagged and struggled as I tried to swallow as much as I could. It tasted so acrid and strong, it brought tears to my eyes. Yuck! And I thought cum was bad. 

When he was done and pulled his dick out, I said, "Auugh." Shelly thought the scene was hot, of course. I was learning that anything that was awful for me, was "hot" for her. And the more awful it was for me, the more "sooo hot" it was for her.

She found our sleeping arrangements especially hot. Dale tied my wrists behind me, and tied my ankles together. He slept on his side, with my neck between his thighs, and my face in his butt. I was supposed to tongue his asshole until he went to sleep. Shelly could see the back of my head, and Dale's huge ass, but since I was turned away, I couldn't see Shelly. Tyler had gone to bed, but Shelly stayed up and watched. I heard her say it was "so hot" watching the back of my head bobbing back and forth as I tried pushing my tongue in and out of Dale's ass, struggling to breathe through my nose despite his big butt cheeks squeezing my face, and I heard her say "oh my gahhhd" when Dale farted loudly into my face. When he fell asleep, and started snoring, Shelly asked me if his snoring was keeping me awake. I said yes. She thought that was "so hot". She asked me if it was hard to breathe with his heavy thigh on my neck. I said yes. She thought THAT was "so hot". She asked me if I was still horny and if my dick was throbbing in my tube. I said yes. I don't have to tell you what she thought of that.

While I lay smelling Dale's ass, and whimpering from my immobility and difficulty breathing, I listened to Shelly finger herself to at least two orgasms. She may have had a third, I don't know, because at some point, somehow, I managed to drift off to sleep.



The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 06



In the morning Dale required a quick blow job before he let me go. At about 5:50, I bolted out of the cab of his truck like a bat out of hell, laptop under my arm, and raced to my parents' car to drive home.

When spring semester started and we were back at TU, I resumed my hellish existence as Tyler's (and Shelly's) complete and total slave - or, "good friend" and "cooperative roommate", as he preferred to call it. The first night back, Tyler said he was pleased enough with my "cooperation" (read, complete and total obedience, and submission to unspeakable humiliations) that he would allow me to release my three weeks' worth of pent-up cum. It ended up dripping off, and drying on, my face that night as I lay in bed.

He said he met with Kelly Smeltzer to discuss our progress, and gave her a very good report on me. He told me she was happy to hear about all we were doing and said Tyler was doing a fine job maintaining our "friendship". 

I said, "Yeah, but... I mean... I'm sure you didn't tell her EVERYTHING that's going on."

"What do you mean? Sure I did."

"No, you couldn't have told her EVERYTHING. What about Dale?"

"Yeah, I told her about him."

"What?? What did you tell her?"

"Everything. I told her about your night in Dale's truck, and how we skyped with him and all that. Sure."

I was speechless for several minutes. I tried to process how this was possible. Was he really claiming he told Ms. Smeltzer about making me go to a seedy porn shop, "pick up" an old, fat trucker, and spend the night with him in his cab while he, Tyler, and Shelly all abused me? And Tyler is saying Ms. Smeltzer APPROVED of this, and thought it was an appropriate part of making me an agreeable and cooperative roommate?? There's just no way. As an employee of the university - as the Director of Resident Life, even! - there's no way she could condone what, first of all, amounted to slavery, and secondly, resulted in (what I considered) RAPE of one of the students whose welfare she was supposed to be guarding! No... way.

My first thought was to try and slip away from Tyler long enough to have another one-on-one meeting with Kelly Smeltzer. But I knew if I went to her office alone, the first thing she would ask me is whether Tyler knew I was there. She herself had approved of the rule (in fact, she had even independently thought of it) that I had to inform Tyler of my whereabouts at all times. I was overwhelmed by the sense of helplessness that came from knowing that she was the ONLY person in any position to help me in my predicament, yet she was also Tyler's greatest ally. Up until now, I thought that was only because she didn't know the full extent of Tyler's pervasive control over me. I thought if she knew ALL the details of what was going on, she would put a stop to the madness immediately. But now, Tyler was claiming that she really DID know all of it. And according to him, she approved!

I just had to find out if that was true. But I realized the only way I could talk to Ms. Smeltzer was if Tyler was present, too. There was just no way around it. So I asked Tyler, "Um... do you think... we could go and meet with Ms. Smeltzer... um... both of us together?"

"How come?"

"Well... um... I haven't seen her in a few months, but you have... um... I guess I'd just like to hear it from her that, uh... that she's pleased with everything... and ... um, I'd like to ask her if there's anything else she thinks I should do... or could do... you know."

Tyler shrugged. "Sounds good to me. I'll call her. She said I could call her anytime. She gave me her cell phone number."

She did? I thought. Then I heard Tyler say, "Kelly? It's Tyler. Hey. Good, good. You think Davey and I could come in to talk to you some time soon? You have any time today? OK. Yeah, that'd be good. Neither one of us has class then. OK. OK, I will. Thanks. Yep, we'll see you then."

He called her Kelly? When did he get on a first-name basis with Ms. Smeltzer? And why did she give him her cell phone number?

When we met her in her office, she locked the door behind us. She allowed Tyler to sit, but made me stand and drop my pants and underwear. She also cuffed my hands behind my back. As soon as she sat down behind her desk, where Tyler couldn't see her but I could, she loosened her skirt and put a hand down in her panties. She told me Tyler had told her all about winter break, and how he and Shelly had skyped with me, how they made me suck a dildo, and fuck myself with it, while they fucked, how Tyler took the chastity tube key with him to Kennesburg, and how, since I couldn't drive to where they were, I had to go the entire break without any relief for my pent-up balls. She said Tyler had told her about the night at the truck stop, with Dale, and how Dale enjoyed himself with me in his sleeper cab, while skyping with Shelly and Tyler. 

Tyler had told her how he and Shelly had had the best sex they'd ever had over winter break, because my participation in their sex life made Shelly especially hot, how it was obvious that Shelly came like a waterfall watching, and listening, as Dale beat me with his belt. Ms. Smeltzer said she was thrilled that I was applying myself so well to Tyler and Shelly's "sex lessons", and that, truth to tell, all the stories Tyler told her made her "soooo wet" as well. And that included the story of how Dale had pissed into my mouth. 

She was making no attempt to hide from Tyler the fact that she was fingering herself behind her desk. "Oh, my," Tyler said. "Kelly, are you playing with yourself back there? Hahaha."

She grinned widely and proudly admitted, "Yes, I am." 

"Well... ha ... as long as you're doing that, and as long as Davey's right there, maybe you'd just rather have his tongue down there to help you out. I can't think of a better way for him to show his thanks for all you've done for us."

"You know, I think you're right. That WOULD be a very appropriate way for him to show his gratitude... and *respect*, too, I might add. Davey, you heard your roomie. Get down here on your knees and lick my pussy."

I looked at Kelly Smeltzer incredulously. "Ms. Smeltzer... you can't be serious."

She glared at me. "Look in my eyes, Davey. Tell me I'm not serious. And then feel my hand slap the shit out of your face."

I did look in her eyes for a brief instant. And it was terrifying. She WAS serious. Deadly serious. But how could she do this?? Even if there was no university rule about sexual contact between employees and students, there CERTAINLY had to be a rule against slapping a student, which she was threatening, or FORCING sexual contact. 

But it was beyond obvious that any such rules were not going to stop Kelly Smeltzer, so I dropped to my knees, scooted forward, and lowered my face toward her crotch. At the same time, she slipped her panties down just past her hips, and raised her legs to indicate I should duck my head under her panties. Once I did, she lowered her thighs and trapped my head between her panties and pussy, and grabbed my head in her hands, and I started licking. Tyler asked if he could watch, and Ms. Smeltzer said, "Of course." So he moved his chair over to where I'd been standing. 

After she came on my face, she told me to stay on my knees while she put herself back together. Tyler was sitting right behind me in a chair, and Ms. Smeltzer sat in front of me, so I felt sandwiched between them. Ms. Smeltzer said, "Davey... I understand this meeting was your idea. So, I want you to tell me, honestly, why you were so anxious to come in here and have a meeting with me."

"Um... well... it's just that... um... ahem... OK, you've said you approve of Tyler's, um... sex lessons... and... all the rules I have to follow. Um... but... I thought the point of it all was to learn how to get along in college, and, uh... get along with a roommate, and everything. Um... so... do you think... maybe... some time soon, I could... um, like... graduate? From this training? You know? Um... maybe not have to wear this thing [I gestured toward the chastity tube]... I can get along with my roommate without this thing on, and ... I don't need to, uh... you know, have all these rules."

"You know, this sounds a lot like complaining to me. Complaining and whining. Haven't we made it clear you're not allowed to complain about anything, Davey? Doesn't this sound like complaining to you, Tyler?"

"Yeah, kinda does," Tyler agreed, and he sighed. "I don't know if Davey will ever learn not to complain, Kelly. God knows we've tried, but... you know how he is."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm not trying to complain. I've tried really hard to do everything I'm supposed to. I've followed all the rules. It's just..."

"Uh oh," said Ms. Smeltzer, "here comes more complaining."

"I can't help it, Ms. Smeltzer. It's all just too much! I mean... I'm... I'm not GAY! And ... I've had to ... to suck... um... you know, suck penises, and ... take penises in my ... my butt... um... and... and I mean, drinking a man's pee?? I don't see how you can condone that. I mean, you ... your job... is... you know, to look out for TU students, and-"

"You don't think I'm looking out for you, Davey?"

I whimpered. "Ms. Smeltzer... I don't wanna have to do gay things... and... and also, has Tyler told you he makes me wipe his butt after he poops, and then I have to lick his butt and ... put my tongue in it?? I mean..."

"Oh my god, Davey... Are you tattling on your roommate? You know... you keep claiming to be Tyler's friend, but ... honest to God, Davey, from DAY ONE, you've been nothing but a little squealer. You're STILL betraying your friend, after all this time, just like you did the first time you came in here to meet with me.

"Tyler, you know what? Gimme that chastity tube key. I think it's time I held onto that key. I bought that thing anyway, so I'm takin' it back. Gimme the key, Tyler. That's why I told you to bring it today, 'cause I thought this just might happen." Tyler pulled the key from his pocket and handed it to Kelly Smeltzer.

"Ms. Smeltzer, I just don't see how you can condone all this," I continued to... well, complain... in their minds, anyway. "I mean... that man RAPED me in his truck."

"Hahaha. Oh my god, what a little drama queen. Raped you?? Bullshit, Davey. Did you, or did you not, drive yourself to that porn shop?"

"Well, yeah... I did. But I had no choice!"

"Of course you had a choice. You know what, Davey, shut up! Shut the fuck up, right now. If you open your mouth and say one more word, you know what's gonna happen?" With that, she held up the key to my chastity tube and displayed it in front of my eyes. "*I* have this key now, and if you say another word, you won't see it again for a month. You wanna go a month without cumming? Don't speak! But answer. You wanna go a month without cumming?"

I shook my head.

"Didn't think so." At that, she leaned back in her chair, and crossed her legs. I watched one high-heeled foot bounce up and down in front of my face, as I was still in my kneeling position before her. She let several moments pass, and, I suppose satisfied that I had remained silent, she spoke: "You wanna know something, Davey?" She leaned forward and bent her head toward mine. "I don't like you," she said, and leaned back to her reclined position. "I didn't like you from the minute I first saw you. You're a whining, complaining, spineless little weasel. A little bookworm nerd who came to college thinking everything would be just the way your little tight ass wants it, all the time. So when you said you wanted another roommate, you know what I said to myself? I said, If this little pussy wants something, then I'm gonna make sure he DOESN'T get it. That first meeting we had, if I could've gotten away with it then, you know what I would've done?"

I just stared, wearing a very worried expression ... once again rather terrified of Kelly Smeltzer.

"This," she said, and quickly leaned forward to put one hand over my mouth while she grabbed my nose with the other, and twisted hard. I yelped into her hand, and tears came to my eyes immediately. "Shhhh," she said. "Don't you dare make a fuckin' sound, Davey, 'cause if you do, you'll never see the key to that chastity tube again. I might have done this, too," and with that, she grabbed a handful of hair from the top of my head, and yanked my head around a few times. I whimpered involuntarily, but quietly, and just looked at her with shocked, terrified eyes.

"But now," she said, "since I have that tube on you, and hold the key right here, I can do anything I want. And I will. And you will take it, whatever it is. Because if you try and cause any kind of trouble for me, if you try and squeal on me to the university, like you squeal on Tyler... like I said... you will never... EVER... see this key again.

"You're right, Davey. In my position here at TU, I shouldn't condone what Tyler is doing with you. And to you. But ... just as a person, as an ordinary woman... I DO. I ... LOVE it! The university wouldn't approve, but the university is never gonna find out about it, are they? I had no idea you'd end up being basically a total slave to your roommate. But once I found out that DID happen... ohhh my GOD! It has made me SOOOO hot! I love hearing about your tight ass getting fucked. It's just what a little pussy like you deserves. The more you suffer, Davey, the more humiliation you're subjected to... the better my orgasms are when I'm at home at night. I ... LOVE ... the way they are treating you. And I'm gonna make sure it only gets worse for you.

"Tyler. I haven't seen Davey sucking your cock yet. Do you feel like a blowjob? How about if Davey starts, and I finish?"

"Sure!" Tyler said.

"Hahaha. You sure, now? I don't want to get in trouble with Shelly. I'm sure I will meet her some day."

"Well..."

"You know what, maybe we better not this time. Let's wait until I've met Shelly, and ... we'll just see. Today, we'll just let Davey do the whole job."

And so the unthinkable happened. The Trentstown University Director of Resident Life made a student perform oral sex, against his will, on another student, right in her office! The first student in question submitted to the wishes of that Director of Resident Life, in helpless awareness that he'd been fully betrayed by one of the people his parents were paying to protect his well-being. That student also knew, by dint of the metal locking device imprisoning his penis, that he had no recourse, nowhere to turn, no ONE to turn TO, and no way out of his humiliating predicament.

Over the rest of the spring semester, all I could do was accept my fate as a total slave, ultimately to Ms. Kelly Smeltzer. She held the key to my dick tube and had appointed Tyler as my ... guardian, you might say. I was in his custody, on her behalf, and he had her complete blessing to totally rule my life... which of course, he had already been doing. Tyler still talked of "friendship" and "being a good roommate" and "being cooperative" and all that, but I knew, and Kelly Smeltzer certainly knew, that those pretenses were complete bullshit. The point of all the control he and Shelly wielded over me was simply to keep me as a humble, humiliated, tormented, degraded little slave, for Tyler's convenience and gratification, for Shelly's twisted fascination, and for Kelly Smeltzer's ears, and pussy juices.

Every week or two, if I was "good", Tyler and I would go to Ms. Smeltzer's office, where she would cuff me to a chair, gag me, and unlock my chastity tube. With a disposable rubber glove on her hand, she would stroke my dick into a cup and then un-gag me and make me drink my cum. Then she'd re-attach the chastity device and lock it, and send us on our way.

In March, we heard from Dale, who said he'd be passing through Trentstown on a Wednesday night, and then he'd pass through again, going the other way, on Saturday. When Ms. Smeltzer found out about that (via her regular cell phone chats with Tyler), she sprang into action, to arrange the following hellish scenario which almost made me piss my pants hearing about it. She was going to pick up me and Tyler from campus, in her car, at 7:00 Wednesday night. She would then drive to the truck stop where Dale planned to leave his truck, meeting him at 7:30. The four of us would then drive to Ms. Smeltzer's house. We'd get there around 7:45. Shelly had to work at Maggie's Restaurant in Kennesburg until 9ish, so she would connect with us by skype whenever she got home (to the house where she and Tyler's mother lived). 

The entire evening would be spent abusing me. Of course Dale would make me lick his sweaty balls and asshole, and suck his dick. At some point he would likely spank me with his belt. Tyler would also have me licking any part of his body he desired: feet, balls, armpits, ass, whatever. Ms. Smeltzer would have plenty of handcuffs, rope, and duct tape on hand. She also had whips and paddles, she said, and of course she would join in. I would be drinking piss (Tyler had started making me drink his since we'd gotten back to campus): Dale's, Tyler's, and hers. Or they might put me in the tub and pee all over me, or they might piss on me in her back yard, or in her tile-floor kitchen. 

But this wasn't the worst of the whole plan. Ms. Smeltzer e-mailed all my professors and told them that due to a family emergency, I would miss all of my Thursday and Friday classes. She asked them, on my behalf, to excuse me and allow me to make up any missed work. Where would I actually be Thursday and Friday? On the road with Dale, tied up in his sleeper cab during the day, and servicing him completely, any way he wanted, at night. And sleeping Thursday and Friday night with my neck between his legs and my face in his ass.

When Dale passed back through Trentstown Saturday, he would stop at the truck stop and deliver me back to Kelly Smeltzer, who would be there waiting.

The actual ordeal was even worse than I imagined. I was collared and leashed the whole time, and not only did I have to drink piss right from the sources, I had to lick it off the kitchen tile and suck it from the ground outside. And when Dale took a shit, Ms. Smeltzer pushed my head into his hairy, fat ass and make me lick him clean without him even wiping first. I had already licked faint brown streaks from his ass a few months before, but this time it was thick, brown smears of poop. Ack! I almost vomited, but that just made Ms. Smeltzer want to be even more cruel. "Don't you dare puke! You're lucky I didn't let him shit right into your mouth. This isn't the last time you're gonna taste poop, you little pussy. Better get used to the taste."

Later that night, Ms. Smeltzer herself had to poop, and she made me lick her ass clean also. Before she flushed, she put on a plastic glove and reached into the toilet to take a little piece of her poop out. She dropped it right on the bathroom floor, then grabbed me by the hair of my head with her ungloved hand. She pushed my face down. "Eat that!" she hissed.

"No... Ms. Smeltzer, please... pllleeeease!" I started crying.

"Eat it! Get your mouth down there. Eat my shit, come on!"

I blubbered and sobbed as I opened my mouth and wrapped it around the little turd. It was only about the size of a gumball, but still... I tried not to think about the taste or the feel as I took it into my mouth. I thought it would be best if I tried to swallow it hard and fast, and get it over with. As soon as it slid down my throat, though, I started coughing and gagging. I felt like I had an immediate fever, and I lurched forward, toward the toilet, where the smell of the water, and the remaining poop, put my gag impulse over the edge. I vomited into the toilet with a loud "rrrraaaaulllgggh!"

Ms. Smeltzer responded with a riding crop that she quickly grabbed from the living room. She came back in the bathroom and brought it down on my ass and back, over and over, berating me for my ingratitude, and for not swallowing her "delicious poop". If that happened again, she said, I'd better puke on the floor, and I'd be licking that up when I was done. 




The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 06



I cried and sobbed, not from her whipping me but from the overwhelming helplessness of my plight. This woman was crazy!! And I couldn't escape her. She had my dick imprisoned and held the only key. I was terrified of her, but I was completely at her mercy. And I wasn't sure she had any!

After she made me lick the poopy glove and flush the toilet, she led me by the leash back into the living room, crawling behind her, and she, Tyler, and Dale all abused me some more. Shelly watched the "soooo hot" scene of Tyler fucking my ass while I sucked Dale's dick. After Tyler came in my ass, Ms. Smeltzer made me squat over a glass so the cum would run into it, and then she made me drink it. 

"Oh my gahhhhhd," reacted Shelly. "Wowwwww."

On that Wednesday night, Ms. Smeltzer not only allowed Dale to spend the night at her house, she let him fuck her as a reward for "looking after" me for a couple of days. (She promised him a blow job on Saturday on his way back through, too.) She made me sit on the floor in front of her couch, and lean my head back onto it. Then she had Dale plop his fat ass on my face. Then she climbed on his lap and rode his dick, while his ass bounced on my face, and I struggled to breathe. After he came inside her, she rolled over on the couch and made me slide my face up to her pussy, and lick his cum out of her. 

That night I actually got to sleep in Ms. Kelly Smeltzer's king-sized bed. And she was even in the bed! But so was Dale, and as they lay side-by-side, I lay with my neck between his legs, and my face in his ass. My lower body was angled over onto Ms. Smeltzer's side of the bed, so all night long, I felt her bare feet kick into my crotch, either carelessly, in her sleep, when she changed position, or, before that, when she intentionally batted at my chastity device, or my balls, with a foot, just to torment me.

Once I was on the road with Dale, things weren't much better. I was trapped in his truck the entire time, cuffed and tied so I could never leave it. When Dale would go into a truck stop to eat, I had to stay in the sleeper cab, and he would bring me leftovers to eat. But my food dish was a cat litter box he bought, and he would toss his food scraps into it and then pour a little of his piss, from his plastic jug, in with it, unless he happened to need to urinate right then. In that case he'd piss a little onto my food, then stop himself and make me put my mouth around his dick to swallow the rest. 

And of course whenever he pissed, he did so into my mouth. By that point I was becoming pretty capable of swallowing it all. Sometimes I had to come to the front of the truck while he was driving. He warned me to keep my head below the level of the dashboard, and climb into the seat next to him, and lean over to take my dick in his mouth. I also sucked him off this way if he felt like a blowjob while driving.

When he needed to shit, he squatted over the cat litter box. When he finished, he would make me lick his ass clean, no toilet paper. Then I'd have to scoop the shit out of the litter box with my bare hands, into a plastic bag. When I got as much of it up as I could, I had to lick my hands clean, but leave whatever residue was in the litter box there. It would provide "a little seasoning" for my next meal, he'd say. We dealt with my poop the same way, except of course I'd have to use toilet paper, which would go into the plastic bag. Whenever we stopped, he'd dispose of the poop bag in a trash can.

When we got back to Trentstown Saturday afternoon, Ms. Smeltzer was waiting at the truck stop. Dale said he had to keep moving but did want to collect on that promised blow job. So Ms. Smeltzer climbed back into the sleeper cab with both of us, sucked Dale off, and took all his cum into her mouth. She then spit it into my mouth and made me swallow it. Then she drove me to her house, as she informed me I'd be spending the next 24 hours there, before she took me back to campus. As much as I'd already been through, I was even more terrified of this next ordeal than what I'd just been released from.

Ms. Smeltzer had duct tape over my mouth most of the time, which prevented any neighbors from hearing my crying and screaming, which was regular. Not only did she use all her paddles and whips on me, but she also had a few "presents" she had bought "for me". One was a buttplug with a hand-held remote that made it vibrate. So she made me put that in my ass, and said from then on, I would not be allowed to remove it without Tyler's permission. She was going to pass along the new rule that I could never leave my dorm room without the butt plug in, so I'd have to have it in my ass for all my classes. 

A second "present" was a little leather cuff that slipped around my balls behind the "ball cuff" of my chastity tube. It had little metal things on the inside, and, using another hand-held remote, she showed me what those did. She pressed a button and I screamed and squealed, as an electric shock hit the back of my balls. That remote would also end up in Tyler's hands, but in the meantime, she used it liberally whenever I didn't jump immediately to comply with any of her demands. 

Those demands included crawling around her kitchen floor, licking and eating half-chewed food she spit onto it, licking her piss up off the kitchen floor, licking her spit off the walls of her house, licking every inch of the outside of her toilet, and then the lid and seat, and then around the rim, and lapping up water out of her toilet. Needless to say, when she pooped she made me lick her ass clean without wiping first. 

Speaking of licking, she had my face between her legs late into the night, and I licked her pussy and her asshole over and over. Most of time she whipped me with cat-o-nine tails, vibrated my butt plug, or pressed the remote to shock my balls. She laughed hearing my shrieks, as I tried to concentrate on licking her fast enough, or just the way she said to do it. When she was finally ready to go to sleep, she cuffed and tied me to a chair inside a small hallway closet. I had to sleep sitting up, and my head bobbed around all night long.

On Sunday morning she cooked breakfast, with bacon, eggs, toast, and fruit, but she wouldn't let me eat a nice big plate like she had. First she scraped some eggs out of the skillet and onto the tile floor, where I was of course naked on hands and knees. She said, "Wait," and suddenly went out the sliding glass door into her back yard. The blinds were closed, so I couldn't see what she was doing out there, but when she came in, I could see her bare feet had bits of wet grass on them, and when she lifted them up enough, I saw she had evidently trudged through some dirt as well.

She put a foot down smack into the pile of eggs, and then made me lick the eggs off the bottom of her foot, along with the dirt and grass. After trampling the eggs a bit more, she returned to her high stool, at her kitchen table, and told me to eat the rest of the eggs off the floor, and then put my tongue to her feet and clean them up.

The bacon, toast, and fruit were all served to me in similar fashion, one, and then the next.

The morning was spent doing all kinds of chores at her house: dishes, laundry, scrubbing, etc. That part was a relief, because most of the time she left me alone. But naturally, when I was in range she pressed the remotes to make my butt plug vibrate, to shock my balls, or both. She told me if I did a really good job with all the chores, I'd be able to cum (for the first time in about 3-and-a-half weeks) before she took me back to campus.

When the chores were done, and she announced that I would indeed get to cum, "if I wanted" (of course I did!), she led me into a bathroom. There she produced a little baggie, in which she had saved a piece of her poop. I thought, Oh God... no more poop. She said, "All right, Davey. You see this piece of my poop is a little bigger than the one I made you eat the other night. I want you to eat it. The good news is, You don't have to! You can choose not to eat it. Or... you can choose to cum today. If you wanna cum, you're gonna cum right on that piece of poop and then eat the whole thing. If you don't wanna cum, fine. Then you don't have to eat the poop. But then you won't cum today, and you won't have another chance for at least a month."

I whimpered, and said, "Please, Ms. Smeltzer. Please don't make me eat poop. I can handle everything else you do to me, but poop is just so disgu-"

"Listen to you whine, Davey. 'Ohhh, Ms. Smeltzer, poop is so disguuustiiiing.' This isn't just any poop, Davey. It's MY poop. Are you saying I'm disgusting, Davey?"

"No, Ms. Smeltzer, of course not, but-"

"Davey, first of all, you owe me a HUGE thank-you for not making you eat my whole dump right out of my ass. The other night I only made you eat a little bitty piece. And I didn't give you a choice! Today I'm giving you a choice. You don't HAVE to eat it. So quit whining, Davey, and make your choice, you little pussy. Are you gonna cum, and eat this poop? Or are you gonna choose not to cum? Decide!"

Over three weeks without cumming was such intense frustration, and I knew once Tyler and Shelly started enjoying the "presents" Ms. Smeltzer was sending me back to campus with - the butt plug and ball-shocker - the stimulation to my genitals would be ruthless and constant, intensifying the torment of the chastity tube even more than usual. I feared I would honestly lose my mind after another month (*at least*... she had said 'at least'!) so I knew a total of 8 weeks without emptying my balls would just be unbearable. I was just going to have to swallow... poop. And cum. 

"OK. I'll eat it."

"Good!" Ms. Smeltzer responded, brightly. "But remember... this time, no throwing up. This time... if you DO throw up, you're gonna do it on the floor, and then... you're just gonna have to eat up the mess. Which will be even more disgusting, obviously. So... better keep it down. Hey, who knows, maybe the cum will help it go down easier. You're used to eating cum, so, maybe that'll help."

She made me get on my knees and then rest my elbows on the floor, with my forearms flat out in front of me. This brought my crotch low to the ground, and she put the piece of poop right under where my dick head poked out of the chastity tube. Then she started to stimulate the metal tube with some kind of vibrator, which she also rubbed on my balls some of the time. She pressed the remote for the vibrating butt plug, and kept it buzzing in my ass. Now and then she also shocked my balls and laughed as I grunted or shrieked, depending on how high she had the shock setting. 

"I bet you thought I was going to unlock your chastity tube for this, huh?" In a patronizing voice, she said, "Did you think Ms. Smeltzer was gonna stroke your little dickie this time, huhhhh? Did you think you'd get Ms. Smeltzer's pretty hand on your little pee pee?" I realized that all the various forms of stimulation she was applying were combining to keep me at full, raging arousal, and even though every twitch of my dick against the unyielding metal tube hurt, the sensations seemed to actually be bringing me close to an orgasm. Was it even possible for me to cum with this cursed tube still locked on me??

I found out what Ms. Smeltzer evidently already knew. It IS possible to cum, even with a chastity device on, and as she continued rubbing the vibrator all over my balls, and the tube itself, I started to squirt. As soon as one contraction sent a jet of cum right down onto the piece of poop, Ms. Smeltzer shocked my balls, and again laughed as I howled in pain, wiggling my knees on the bathroom tile. My cum kept squirting out, but I didn't get to enjoy a second of it, as she continued shocking me over and over.

I was sobbing when all my cum was finally emptied, and she grabbed my hair to bring my head around for the awful task of eating the cum-covered turd. Tears fell onto it as she pushed my face down, saying, "OK, Davey, time to keep your end of the bargain. I let you cum, so clean up that mess. If you puke, not only are you gonna have to eat that STILL, but you won't cum again for another two months! Which means you will have eaten shit for nothing, hahahaha!" 

Tormented with Kelly Smeltzer's evil laugh the whole time, I munched about half of the turd, tried to swallow it fast, burst out sobbing some more, and for a moment thought I would pass out. I knew vomiting was just NOT an option, but I think my body actually started to go into shock from this horrific situation. Oh, God! Why was all this happening to me? What had happened to my life in less than a year's time? Why, oh WHY didn't I go to Western, instead of deciding on TU??

If only it were possible to turn back time somehow. Or wake up from this nightmare, if that's what it was.

All at once, though, I realized that if I continued to let myself be overwhelmed, my body would make me lose consciousness, or vomit, one or the other. I had to pull myself together, and just finish what I could not avoid. I quickly gobbled up the other half of the cum-tears-and-poop mixture, and swallowed it. I turned my mind to imagine something delicious, like one of those frozen orange push-up things I used to get from the ice cream truck as a kid. Mmmm. One of those would be GREAT right now. I imagined I was tasting it, and somehow, the trick worked. It had to. 

I did it. I made it. I'm done. As I brought my head up, and panted, I felt dizzy, trying hard not to pass out. Ms. Smeltzer stood above me, imperiously, smirking down at me. I watched her graceful fingers squeeze the remote in her hand, and felt another shock to my balls. I yelped. She chuckled.



The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 07



Since I always had to get Tyler's permission for every little thing I did, I asked him, one day in April, if I could call one of the factories in Bellewood to ask about summer work. His reply shocked me. He said, "No, you're not gonna be in Bellewood this summer, Davey, you're comin' home to Keenesburg with me." 

"What? No. No, I... I can't do that, no... um..."

"Of course you can, Davey."

"No, no... I need to work for the summer."

"No, you don't."

"Yes. I do. I need to save money."

"For what?"

"For... well... I don't know, I just do."

"Nah. You're comin' home with me this summer. You don't need to have a summer job."

"You mean... the *whole* summer? In Keenesburg?"

"Yeah. That's where *I'll* be the whole summer. So that's where you'll be."

"But... but... I, uh... I don't think my parents will *let* me spend the whole summer away. I mean..."

"They don't have a say. You're an adult, Davey, you don't have to do what they want."

"Well... OK... um... as an adult... who can do what I want... um... I wanna work for the summer in Bellewood."

"Ha! Well, I didn't say you could do what YOU want. I said you don't have to do what THEY want."

"But... I have to do what YOU want."

"Well, I mean... yeah, unless you wanna go the whole summer without cumming. You won't have the key to your dick tube, obviously."

"Well, I'm sure I could come to Keenesburg some weekend. Maybe even two or three times this summer. I'm sure my parents would be OK with me taking a trip to visit my roommate. By the way, Ms. Smeltzer IS gonna give you the key, for the summer... right?"

"Uh, ya know what, we haven't talked about that. Lemme call her and see."

He dialed Kelly Smeltzer's cell phone. "Hey, Kelly. Good. Hey, Davey's kinda whining about wanting-... haha, yeah. Well... you know how he is. He was talking about going home to Bellewood to work this summer, and I told him, no, you're comin' home with me for the summer. He was wondering if I'm gonna have the key to his tube. OK. Dude, she wants to talk to you."

He handed me the phone. With great trepidation, I took it, and said, "Hello?"

"Hello, little pussy," she said, flatly, and with no small measure of hostility. "So you thought you were gonna go home and have a summer job, huh?"

"Well-"

"Listen carefully. You will do what Tyler says. Period. And you will not argue, and you will not complain. And you will not try to change his mind. You will go home with him this summer. Because he says so. And you will always do what Tyler says, and what Shelly says, and what I say, and what Dale says... and what anybody else says who any of us put in authority over you."

Sternly, and emphatically, she continued, "You... are... a slave. A little pussyboy plaything for the amusement and pleasure of people who are better than you. Your job is to say 'yes, sir' and 'yes, ma'am', and do everything you're told without any talking back, or arguing, or complaining. THAT is your job. You know what's NOT your job?"

I thought the question was rhetorical, so I responded with silence, terrified to speak out of turn.

"I asked you a question, slave."

"I'm sorry. Uh... no... um, what's... not my job?"

"To ask questions like, Where's the key to my chastity device? Who has it? When will I get to cum? If Tyler says you'll spend the summer with him, you just go. You go to Keenesburg, and do as you're told when you're there. Period. That's all you do. You don't ask questions.

"Now... not that I have to tell you this, but... what the hell, I feel like it... *I* will have the key to your chastity device, all summer long. And I, of course, have work to do here, and have to be here in Trentstown... you know, where I live. But, if you're lucky we might see each other this summer, maybe even more than once. I *will* be taking vacation time this summer, there's always the possibility that Tyler and Shelly will want to come here some time, and if they do, they can stay with me. Obviously they're likely to bring you along. And then there's always Dale, who might be able to transport you here, or me there. But THAT... is OUR business. Not yours. 

"So listen carefully, you little pussified worm. You're nothing more than a SLAVE. You don't get to make plans. You don't get to make decisions. You don't get to ask questions. You just do as you're told. And since you're such an ungrateful little slave, who doesn't even appreciate the fact that Tyler and I HAVE let you cum on occasion, I'm making a new rule: You never ask questions about your chastity key... who has it, when will they use it, when will you get to cum, etc. 

"Now here's something else: Your punishment for trying to make your own plans, and for asking about your chastity key, is you don't get to cum for the rest of April. Which means when the semester is over in a month, you go to Keenesburg with Tyler, and you'll have no idea if you'll ever get to cum this summer, or not. And if you DARE to complain, and if you DON'T go home with Tyler this summer, then not only will you go the whole summer without cumming, but you won't see that key for all of fall semester, either. Now say 'Yes, Ms. Smeltzer' and put Tyler back on the phone, you little shithead."

"Yes, Ms. Smeltzer," I said, and then dropped my head and wept as I extended my arm, to hand Tyler back his phone.

Later, I did get Tyler's permission to call my parents to notify them that I'd be spending the whole summer with my roommate in Keenesburg. He made me put the call on speaker, so he could listen. They were not happy, and they asked if I'd be spending any time at all, at home in Bellewood. I suddenly realized I did not know the answer to that; it would be completely up to Tyler. So I said I did not know.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" asked my mom. "We thought you were gonna try and work down at Feedler this summer anyway. Didn't you call Mr. Mueller to ask him about a job?"

"Well... I don't really need to work."

"I thought you wanted to save up for your own car," my dad said.

"Well... I don't really need a car here. I guess while I'm still in college, I don't really need one."

"I don't really get why you'd wanna spend the *whole* summer there," he said. "I mean I know you said you and Tyler get along fine, but I didn't realize you'd become such good buddies that you'd wanna hang out all summer long. Didn't you say you have almost nothing in common? You know, he lifts weights, plays basketball, watches sports... none of the stuff you're into. I just don't see it. What are you gonna *do* all summer?"

I didn't give them very satisfying answers to those kinds of questions. What could I tell them? That what I was gonna *do* all summer was lick balls, dick, ass, and feet, and be continually raped and abused? Oh, and maybe get beaten, too? After the phone call, Tyler said, "Dude, I can't believe after all this time, you've given your parents the impression that we're not best buds. You still act like I'm not your friend sometimes, Davey. Kinda hurts my feelings. I think maybe you've got a belt-spanking coming to you. That's probably the first thing we'll have to do when we get to Keenesburg. Besides, I know Shelly will enjoy that. Christ, man, she went wild when Dale was spanking you. She fucked my brains out."

My parents insisted on coming to Trentstown to visit me for a weekend before the semester ended. They got a hotel room, and took me and Tyler out for meals. Tyler said I should do my best to convince them, by the way I acted around him, that he and I were the best friends ever. Actually Tyler did most of the convincing, talking about how we did everything together: ate meals on campus together, worked on our studies together, watched sports together, talked late into the night, often with his girlfriend on the phone with us... how Shelly really liked me, too, and how Shelly and I got along well. I know my parents disapproved of the fact that Shelly lived at Tyler's house even though they were not married. They did not say so to Tyler, but I knew that was one of the things that concerned them about me spending the summer there.

When the semester ended, Shelly and Tyler's mom made the 8-hour drive to Trentstown while I packed up my and Tyler's stuff. There would be four of us in the car for the ride back, and not much room, but TU would not allow us to leave anything in the dorm; the dorm rooms had to be completely vacated. Since there wouldn't be enough room in the car to take everything, my stuff was to be stored at Ms. Smeltzer's house for the summer. ALL my stuff. I wasn't even taking clothes. When I needed clothes, I'd be able to wear Tyler's, but most of the time, he said, I wouldn't even need clothes. I thought, Holy Christ... does that mean I'll be naked almost all the time? If so, then that means I'll be shut up in a bedroom or something... probably tied up or cuffed. Surely I wouldn't be wandering around the house naked, with Tyler's mother there.

But I didn't ask about what to expect, because even though almost a month had passed since my last conversation, on the phone, with Ms. Smeltzer, I remembered well what she told me: I was not to ask questions, but just do as I was told.

But I more or less got my answer when Shelly, and Tyler's mother Candice, arrived at TU. They did not want to pay for a hotel room for the overnight stay, so they stayed in the dorm room with us. Before they arrived at our room door, Tyler put me on my knees in the closet, naked except for the chastity tube on my dick, butt plug in my ass, a collar and leash (items borrowed for the summer from Ms. Smeltzer), and duct tape on my mouth. I heard Shelly and Candice come in, and everyone exchanging hellos, and hugs and kisses. After a few minutes, Tyler announced that it was time for Candice to finally meet his roommate, and for Shelly to finally see him in person. He opened the closet door, grabbed my leash, and said, "Crawl on out, Davey." 

Shelly immediately said, "Wowwwww. Hi, Daveyyyy. At last we meet."

Candice registered total shock on her face. "Ohhhhh my... goodness! This is Davey?"

"Yep," said Tyler, "This is my roomie."

"You keep him in your closet?"

"Ha, no, not usually, I just had him waiting in here so we could have a few minutes of family time before I introduced him."

"You keep him on a leash, though? Do you keep him naked like this?"

"He's naked most of the time, yeah."

"Oh my goodness."

"Davey, this is my mom. You can just call her Mom. I know you can't really kiss 'em right now, with duct tape on your mouth, but put your mouth to her feet and say hello. Pretend you're kissin' her feet."

As he led me to her, and I crawled up and put my face to the tops of her shoes, she said, "Hahaha. Oh my goodness. Kissing my feet. What a way to say hello. Does he do everything you say?"

"Yes, he does."

"Wow. So he's... what? Like your slave?"

"Pretty much."

"Wow."

Then Shelly said, "Hey, I want my hello, too", whereupon Tyler led me over to put my mouth to the tops of Shelly's shoes as well.

All three sat on the futon and had me on hands and knees in front of it, sideways, so they could all put their feet up on my back, while they talked. In addition to the usual topics you would expect relatives to discuss when reuniting after a long separation, they also talked about how I would be on hand all summer long to cater to the needs of all three of them, at the house in Keenesburg. Candice learned that she and Shelly would get a three-month break from all household chores, as I would be able to "help out" by doing them all. 

That night, the sleeping arrangements were as follows: Shelly in the top bunk, Candice in the bottom, and Tyler on the futon. Where did I sleep? Well, prior to going to bed, Tyler and Shelly had sex; they had no qualms about doing it with Candice right there in the room. Not only did she not seem to mind, but Tyler and Shelly were eager to show off the total control they had over me, and, while one or the other continually held onto my leash, they made me suck Tyler's dick, lick his balls and his ass, his feet, her feet, her pussy, her asshole, whatever they wanted. They used the remote for the ball shocker to make me yelp while I was licking, as Candice sat and watched from the futon, giggling, and saying "Oh, my."

After Tyler came in Shelly's pussy, she had me lie down on the floor, and she squatted over my face, lowered her sloppy pussy onto it, and made me lick her to orgasm. In the process she smeared juices all over my chin, nose, and forehead. After that, Tyler had to piss, so he made me close my mouth around his dick to swallow all his urine. Candice said, "Oh my goodness! You mean thanks to Davey, you don't even need to go to the toilet to pee?"

"Nope," said Tyler, and Shelly said, "Oh my gahhhhhd I can't wait to do that, too. I've been wanting to piss in his mouth for months." She didn't have to wait any longer. As soon as Tyler was done, I was put back on the floor, and Shelly sat down on my face again, this time to press her pussy into my open mouth and unleash her urine. 

Candice watched in amazed fascination, and I realized that, just as had been the case with Shelly, the whole practice of using somebody as a tool and a plaything, with no regard whatsoever for his feelings, desires, or pleasure, bothered her not in the least. Earlier, as the three had discussed my chastity device, Candice had said, "So he can't play with himself, or cum, or get any pleasure at all... and with that butt plug and ball shocker there, too, that whole area of his body just gets nothing but torment and misery, huh? So that way he can focus all his attention on you two getting pleasure, huh? Wow. That's great!"

After I had swallowed Shelly's piss, Tyler said, "How about you, Mom? You need to pee?"

"Hahaha," she said. "Well... no, not right now, but... ha... I donno, I think I would feel really funny doing that. I'm not sure I could. I'd laugh too much, I think."

Shelly said, "Oh, nooo, Mom, you should totally do it. I loved it! I know you will, too."

"Well," Candace said, "maybe I'll try it when we get back home."

"Well, in the meantime," Tyler said, "you can at least have Davey lick you clean after you pee in the toilet. In fact, he licks me clean after I poop, too. He can do that for all of us this summer."

"After you poop? You mean... you don't even wipe, you just... you have him-"

"Yeah, I just have him lick my ass clean. It's SO much better than toilet paper. His tongue feels better, and does a better job."

"Oh, my. That DOES sound nice."

"How ya feelin' after watchin' me and Shelly, Mom? Feelin' kinda horny?"

"Oh, goodness. Yes. Hahaha."

"Well, you know Davey's tongue is available. Feel free to use him for whatever you need. That's what he's here for."

"Ohhhhhh... MY. And that goes for all summer long?"

"Of course."

"Ohhhhhh... myyyyyy... GOODness. That is going to be niiiiice. Can I... can I pull my slacks off right now, and-"

"Of course!" 

So obviously she did just that. She pulled her slacks off, and her plain white "granny panties" off. Tyler handed her my leash, and she pulled my face into her musky, hairy pussy. She felt funny being partially nude in front of her son and his girlfriend, but Tyler and Shelly cheered her on, and I licked her to orgasm. Shelly said, "Have him put his tongue in your asshole, Mom. It feels really good."

That brings us to where I slept that night: in my own bed. Or at least in the lower part of it. Tyler had me lie on my belly with my hands cuffed behind me, with cuffs on my ankles which he tied to the cuffs on my wrists so my calves were bent back over my thighs, and with my face in Tyler's mother's pussy. All night long. 

The next day, for the entire 8-hour drive to Keenesburg, I was never out of the car. Shelly, Candice, and Tyler took turns in the back seat with me, where I lay on my belly under a blanket while one of them sat sideways on the seat, against a pillow propped up against the side. Candice wore a dress so I could get up under it to lick her pussy; Shelly had a short skirt on that day. I spent the whole time providing orgasms for all three of them, with my mouth and tongue. Shelly had a glass jar she made me use when I needed to pee, but then she made me drink it. When they stopped to eat, the three of them went into the restaurant to sit down and have their meal. I had to stay in the back seat of the car, completely covered by the blanket, and wait. I would have tried to take a little nap during that time, but Shelly took the remote for the ball shocker into the restaurant to see if it would work from there. She texted me to ask if it did work; I replied that it did. So she used it on me about every minute or two, and I lay under the blanket, flinching and yelping, while they enjoyed lunch.

When they returned to the car, Shelly got in back with me and lay on her stomach across the back seat. She pulled down her skirt and panties. Then she asked Candice to mix the leftovers from all three of their meals, and put it all on Shelly's bare ass. Kneeling on the floor behind the front passenger seat, I ate my lunch (forbidden to use my hands) off of Shelly's butt. Since the blanket was not covering us, it's possible that some truckers passing by did double-takes catching sight of that.

At the house in Kennesburg, my every waking moment was spent... well... as a total slave. Just doing what I was told. Candice and Shelly both liked cooking, so they did that, but every other household chore was my job. I did dishes, I did everyone's laundry, I vacuumed, I swept, I picked up after all three of them, I made beds, I mowed the lawn, washed the car, everything. All I got to drink - well, besides piss - was water, which I drank from a bowl on the kitchen floor. When I wasn't doing chores I spent plenty of time licking. Licking feet, balls, ass, pussy, licking everyone's ass clean after they pooped, and of course drinking everyone's pee. All three of them used the remotes to vibrate my butt plug or shock my balls whenever they felt like it. And of course, Tyler would fuck my ass when he was so inclined, or any of the three of them would fuck me with my dildo, or have me fucking myself with it.

As Tyler had promised, the first night in Keenesburg included a belt-whipping. Since he knew watching it would turn Shelly on, and she would want to fuck him, Candice was appointed to administer it. I was placed on my hands and knees on the floor, facing Tyler and Shelly's bed, while Shelly rested on her elbows and hung her face over the side as Tyler fucked her from behind. This meant her face was just a few inches away, and she could savor the pain on my face, and the tears Candice brought to my eyes, by beating me with a belt on my ass, my back, my thighs, and my balls. Shelly also held the remote for the ball-shocker in one hand, and regularly shocked me during the whipping. Her face was a vision of ecstasy the whole time.

The first whipping was supposedly punishment for having given my parents the impression that Tyler and I were less than "best buds". But the subsequent beatings, which occurred several times weekly, were quite obviously just for Shelly's pleasure and not punishment for anything. There was nothing to punish me for, because I did everything I was told immediately and without complaint. My behavior and obedience were impeccable, but did that mean I'd be spared ball-shockings and belt-whippings? Of course not.

I almost never got several hours of uninterrupted sleep. Tyler was always home unless he and Shelly went to a movie or went out for some time alone. Candice had a regular 8 to 5 job; she would come home during the noon hour for lunch. Shelly's hours were irregular, but she never worked before 11, and if she worked a dinner shift, she'd be home around 9 or 10. She always stayed up latest. Even if she got in bed with Tyler until he fell asleep (usually around 12 or 1), she might get back out of bed and stay up until 3 or 4. If so, she might require me to be up with her, to crawl into the kitchen and fetch her something, to be her footstool, to eat her out, etc. But then I always had to wake "Mom" up at 6:30 by coming into the room with coffee. Then I'd have to slither under her covers, get between her thighs and lick her pussy to help her wake up. Then I'd drink her morning piss when she was ready, and crawl into the bathroom with her, to lick her pussy softly while she took her morning dump. Then of course, I'd lick her ass clean, after which I had to just kneel outside the tub while she showered, dry her off afterwards, help her get dressed, and help her make breakfast, which she would eat from a plate. But whatever she fixed, she mixed my portion all together and made a little pile right on the kitchen floor. 




The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 07



Other meals I often ate off of someone's ass. It was always leftovers. Everyone ate before me, and my food was always mixed into a slop. Tyler, Candice, and Shelly all enjoyed having a pile of food dumped onto their ass while they lay on their stomach, watching TV. One time Shelly even had me wait until she took a dump, and then she came out of the bathroom, without wiping, to have my dinner placed in her ass crack. 

Once Candice left for work, about 7:40, I could sleep until Tyler got up. But often that was around 9, and sometimes even earlier. Whenever Shelly went to work, and only Tyler and I were there, he would sometimes allow me a nap if he sensed I was super-tired. He was the only one who ever cared enough to let me catch up on some rest. I'm not sure Candice or Shelly would have noticed or cared if I never slept at all.

When Dale called to say he was passing through, Tyler asked his mother if she'd be OK with Dale spending the night at the house. She said she would prefer to meet him first, so we all went down to Maggie's Restaurant, while Shelly was working, and had dinner. I was served water and nothing else; I'd be allowed to eat leftovers when we got back home. Dale did manage to charm Candice with his Southern gentlemanly ways. Even though he was fat, it became clear very quickly that she was attracted to him. 

We stayed at the restaurant until Shelly got off work, and then led Dale back to the house. He parked his truck there on the property so he'd be able to leave at 6 the next morning, before anyone was up, and without requiring a ride back to his truck. The other three were eager to show Dale how they made me eat meals off asses and wondered if he would like HIS ass to be my dinner plate. They took all the leftovers from the restaurant (which by now were thoroughly cold from sitting for over two hours), mixed them all together, and dumped them on Dale's ass. Shelly and Candice each grabbed one of his big butt cheeks to spread his ass apart, while Tyler dumped the mess in. Tyler thought it would be fun to fuck my ass while I was eating, so he did, and meanwhile Shelly, Candace, and Dale passed the ball-shocking remote around. 

That night Dale "treated" me - well, the real treat was for Shelly, of course - to a hard belt-whipping while she and Tyler had sex. The whipping continued while I licked Tyler's cum from Shelly's pussy, and then Shelly sucked Dale's dick for a little while to thank him. When he was ready to cum, though, she grabbed me by the hair and pushed my face down onto Dale's dick, so I could take and swallow his load.

Dale got himself some pussy that night, too, for a change. As far as I knew, apart from the time Ms. Smeltzer had fucked him at her house, Dale had not had intercourse since I met him. But Candice was more than happy to fuck him, because she genuinely liked him. I was thankful that there was another outlet (a *welcoming* one, even) for his dick besides my mouth or ass.

In late July, Kelly Smeltzer took her vacation from TU, and she came to visit. The ONLY reason I wanted to see her was that she held the key to my chastity tube, and I hadn't cum for three-and-a-half months. If I had known beforehand what her visit would be like, and had been given the choice of whether to have her come to Keenesburg, or not, I would have just endured the sexual frustration for the rest of the summer.

She got a motel room in Keenesburg, but she did come to the house to see (and savor) all of the abuse and humiliation that Tyler, Shelly, and Candice subjected me to, and of course to join into it herself. Tyler got to have a threesome with his 19-year-old girlfriend and the 32-year-old Director of Resident Life from his college. Both women sucked his dick at the same time, and they kissed and fondled each other, and all kinds of other sexy things. 

Ms. Smeltzer also staged a scenario in Tyler's bedroom, with just him and me. She took my chastity tube off of me, and also removed my butt plug, and collar-and-leash. She made me kneel before Tyler, with my hard-on poking out obscenely in front of me, and my long-neglected dick dripping pre-cum. She held her phone in a way that made me think she was taking pictures, or capturing the scene on video, and beforehand she had coached me to tell Tyler I wanted to suck his dick, how much I loved doing that for him, and how glad I was that I'd met him and we'd been assigned as roommates. I sucked him to completion and swallowed his cum. Afterwards I was to say, "Mmmmm. You came in my mouth, and I swallowed it. I love that." 

I thought my reward for acting out this scenario would be that I'd get to cum somehow, but Ms. Smeltzer put my chastity tube back on (much to my disappointment), re-inserted the butt plug, and put the collar and leash back on. She then amplified my frustration, disappointment, and helplessness by shocking the hell out of my balls until I was dancing around like some kind of frantic monkey, and tears were practically flying out of my eyes. When she stopped I sobbed and panted, and my nose ran. She just laughed at me.

Then Ms. Smeltzer fiddled with her phone and with Shelly's laptop. She called Shelly in to help her. I didn't know what they were doing, but Tyler led me out of the room by the leash anyway, so he and his mother could... do whatever they did to me next. Who the hell knows, the abuse and humiliation never ceased, and the memories of that hellacious summer in Keensburg all run together.

Yet... one of those memories definitely stands out. The second day Ms. Smeltzer was in town, she took me with her from Tyler's house, and said she was taking me on vacation with her. She was planning to travel to the neighboring state and see some sights there. She'd deliver me back in a week. But we stayed in Keenesburg that night. She got dressed to go out. I always saw her in professional attire, very sophisticated and business-like clothing. But that night, she donned some knee-high leather boots, a short skirt, and a revealing top. She had me dressed in some clothes borrowed from Tyler: an old pair of slacks he'd outgrown, with legs not long enough to come down to my shoes, black socks, and some old dress shoes. The white shirt was a button-down, with long sleeves, a little too small for me. She made me tuck the shirt into the pants, with which I wore no belt. I thought it looked a little silly, but then the whole outfit looked a little silly to me. 

We got in her car and she took me to a bar just outside of Kennesburg, an isolated roadside place, set on a little hill beside the road. The entrance was gravel, and you had to drive up the hill to the large gravel parking lot surrounding the place. Beside, and behind, were just woods and fields. 

We parked, and she gave me a 10 dollar bill. She said to go inside, and go to the bar but don't sit down. She said to stand at the bar until someone waited on me, and tell him or her I wanted a diet soda. If they didn't have diet soda, get a regular soda. When I got my drink, I should pay for it and then go sit at a table or booth. 

She said she would come in after a few minutes. She would sit at the bar. If she zapped my balls with the remote (which she would have in her purse), I was to bring my soda and come to the bar, come up behind her, and tap her on the shoulder. 

I walked in, and almost every eye turned to check me out. I felt, and I'm sure I looked, completely out of place. All the patrons were men in their 30s, 40s, and 50s. I stood awkwardly at the bar. A female bartender who was probably in her mid-30s asked immediately to see my ID. I told her I only wanted a diet soda, and she said, "Yeah, hun, we don't have diet soda." Regular soda, then, please. She served me, which was fortunate because I thought she was going to say I still needed to be 21 even to be in the place, and I had no ID. All I had on me was the 10 dollar bill. I gave the bartender the 10, and she brought back change. I said, "Um... OK... what do I tip you? Um, 15%?"

"Whatever you want, hun." I calculated that about 28 cents should be appropriate, so I counted that out, and left it on the counter. Then I went to sit at a table away from everyone, where I could see the bar. In a few mintues Ms. Smeltzer came in and sat at the bar. She drew immediate attention from all the men close enough to talk to her. One of them held up the money he kept on the bar in front of him, and told the bartender, "The lady's is on me."

The two were sitting at right angles due to the L shape of the bar, but he was three or four stools down from her. They talked for several minutes. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but at one point it seemed Ms. Smeltzer gestured for him to come and sit beside her. In the next moment, he picked up his things and made the move. After another few minutes, I saw Ms. Smeltzer reach into her purse, and then felt the zap on my balls. 

I grabbed my soda, got up, and walked up to the bar, where Ms. Smeltzer was already facing away from me. I stepped up behind her, and as I did so, I saw that the man was watching me. I tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned around and looked at me as if I was a total stranger. "Yeah??" she demanded, as though I wanted something, and I just stood stupidly for a moment. When I started to open my mouth, she said, "Get lost, creep." Then she turned her back to me. 

Not knowing what was required of me at that point, I turned to walk back to my table. But I only took 5 or 6 paces before she zapped me again. I stopped in my tracks, and turned back around, assuming she wanted me to come to her again. I stepped up behind her and waited a moment, figuring she knew I was there. But then I tapped on her shoulder. Again she whipped around and looked at me as though severely annoyed. She said, "What!? What do you *want*?? Get lost!" Then she turned to the man and said, "What the fuck is this guy's problem?"

At that, the man immediately rose from his seat and advanced toward me, intimidatingly. He said, "Hey, pal... What's your problem? You're botherin' the lady." I shrunk away from him, and said, "I'm sorry. I... I... didn't mean to."

"Yeah, well, you did. So why don't you just go back over there, and stay away from her."

"OK. I'm sorry." As I started to turn to walk away, Ms. Smeltzer said, "You should say, 'yes sir'."

"Um... yes, sir."

A few minutes later, as I sat at my table, I felt the ball shocker zap me again. Oh, no, I thought. I think I know what's going on here. She wants me to come up there and tap her on the shoulder, and get her new friend even more pissed off at me. But I didn't dare stay seated and thereby defy Ms. Smeltzer's instructions. I was more scared of her than anyone else in the world, so I proceeded to the bar.

This time I saw her glance over her shoulder briefly as I approached. She turned back to say something to the man, and he got off his bar stool and came toward me. He blocked my path to her and said, "Hey, buddy. Where are you goin'? I thought I told you not to bother the lady." Just then Ms. Smeltzer zapped me again, so I tried to move around the man to get to her. He took that as an act of defying him, so he said "Hey, back off, fella. Get the fuck outta here!" and pushed me so that I fell onto a nearby table. My soda flew out of my hand and landed somewhere along the wall. The table wobbled as I fell onto it, and a candle fell off of it, onto the floor. As I slid off the table and tried to right myself, I stumbled against one of the chairs and nearly fell on the floor myself. Ms. Smeltzer laughed, as did a couple of people sitting at the bar. She said, "This little creep needs his ass kicked. What the hell is WITH him??"

The man said, "He's GONNA get his ass kicked if he don't stay the hell away from you. Hey, buddy, why don't you just hit the road and get outta this place altogether?" I stood looking at him, and Ms. Smeltzer, for a moment, not knowing what to do, and then I turned to walk back to my table. The man called after me. "Hey! Hey! Hey, I'm talkin' to you, you little punk. Take your scrawny ass and get the hell outta here!" 

When I didn't, the man solicited help from some of his buddies at the bar, whom he called by name. "Let's get this little creep out of here," he said, and I turned around to see a total of five men approaching me. I flinched, and then stood frozen as they gathered around me and grabbed me. Lifting me, and then carrying me toward the door, horizontally, with my belly down, they used to my head to bust open the door, and then they tossed me right out into the gravel. 

When I landed, it knocked the wind out of me, and also nearly broke at least one of my elbows, with which I'd tried to break my fall. The fall put a little rip in one of the long sleeves of my shirt, and both my hands and forearms were bleeding a little bit from being skinned up. 

I lay in the dark, on the gravel, stunned, for a few minutes, then stood up. What was I supposed to do now? I started to walk over to the side of the building, where I thought I'd just sit and lean against the building until Ms. Smeltzer came out. But then I felt my balls get shocked again. Oh, shit, I thought. Does that mean she wants me to come back in? It probably does. 

I sighed, and looked at the entrance. I didn't want to go back in but I knew the longer I delayed, the more trouble I'd likely be in. As soon as I walked through the door, I heard Ms. Smeltzer say, "You gotta be fucking kidding me. Look. It's him again." Her new friend turned around, saw me, and got off his stool. "You better turn yourself right back around, boy. You take another step and you're gonna get a fist in the face." Just then Ms. Smeltzer shocked me again, and I knew that meant to come toward her, risking the man's fist. I did, and he immediately thrust forward with a punch right to my nose. I yelped and fell backward, against the door and onto the floor. The sting of his fist had immediately brought tears to my eyes, and I could tell my nose was bleeding, too. 

Ms. Smeltzer said, "I really don't think this idiot's gonna get the message even with that punch. I think he needs one from you and every other guy in here. Why don't you and your friends take him outside and *really* fuck him up."

He said, "I think you might be right," then to me, "You gonna crawl your skinny ass outta here for good?? Or are we all gonna have to take this outside?"

Ms. Smeltzer forced my "answer". She zapped my balls, and I pushed myself off the floor and stood. I faced away from the door, toward the man, and took a step. Her friend immediately said, "God damn. What a fuckin' idiot. C'mon, guys, we're gonna have to take this punk outside." He grabbed me by the collar of my white button-down shirt, and dragged me out the door. Nearly everyone in the bar followed, including Ms. Smeltzer. Since the place emptied out and there was no one to serve, even the bartender came out to watch what would happen. 

Over the next few minutes, whenever I was able to catch a glimpse of Ms. Smeltzer, I saw that her attention was rapt, and she was licking her lips or smirking. That is, if she wasn't saying, "Yeah, kick this fuckin' creep's ass!" Which all the men did. I got punched and kicked and tossed around. I grunted or sometimes squealed, not only from their blows but from the ball shocker which Ms. Smeltzer could easily access with a hand in her purse. Men held me by the hair at times and pulled me this way or that, I got punched in each eye, my nose, or my mouth at one time or another. My blood got sprinkled all over the gravel parking lot, both of my sleeves ripped, as did both pant legs, and several of the buttons of my shirt got popped off. My hands got all skinned up from trying to crawl away across the rocks, only to have a booted foot kick me in the butt or even the balls. 

I was crying and pleading, when I was able to speak, saying, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please stop! Please don't hit me any more, OWWWW! Ow-ow-ow-ow-owwwwww!! Pleeeease!" Most of the crowd just laughed at me, saying, "Jeeezus! Listen to him scream like a girl." At one point I saw the bartender laughing, and she chimed in, "Kick the little faggot in the nuts for me, he left me a 28 cent tip!"

Ms. Smeltzer called out, "Guys, rip his clothes off so you can drag his naked ass all over this gravel!" I screamed out, "No! Noooo, pllleeeease! No, don't, don't!" I started sobbing as I attempted to run or crawl away from the men, frantically panicking. I knew if they stripped me naked they would see my chastity tube and butt plug, and know for sure - in their minds - that I was a "faggot". God only knew what kind of horrifically violent impulses that might trigger among these homophobic rednecks. 

But it was clear that my evil, psychopathic chastity-key holder wanted to find out!



The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 08



The men ripped my clothes off, per Ms. Smeltzer's request, tugging at my shirt or pants or whatever each could reach. In the process I was pulled or dragged this way and that along the gravel. Once everything was ripped off, including my socks, someone grabbed at my white briefs. With several forceful tugs, he finally succeeded in ripping them off, whereupon nearly everyone gasped and said, "What the fuck!!??? What the fuck is THAT thing??" Then someone noticed there appeared to be some black circular thing in between my butt cheeks. It was the base of my butt plug, and someone said, "Oh my god, he's got somethin' up his ass!"

Ms. Smeltzer yelled out, "Holy shit, I know what that is! It's a fuckin' butt plug! Hold him for me, you guys, lemme show you. I'll pull that thing out." Two of the men pulled me up by my arms so I was on my knees in the gravel, and Ms. Smeltzer came up behind me. She roughly pulled the butt plug out of my ass, making me scream. She held it up a moment so people could see it, and I'm sure most, if not all, of them had never seen such a thing. I heard people saying, "What the fuck??"

Ms. Smeltzer said, "Hold him, you guys," and she started jamming the butt plug in my mouth, pushing it roughly in and out, making me gag. Everyone laughed, knowing the cone-shaped thing had just been in my ass and now she was making me taste it. As the men continued to hold me, she bent at the waist, pretending to inspect my chastity device, as if she had no idea it was there before I was stripped naked. She said, "What the fuck? There's a lock on that thing? And you were hitting on me with a locked-up dick? Who put that thing on you, your mommy? Hahaha. What did you think was gonna happen if you got with me? We were just gonna go make out somewhere? Hahaha, what a fuckin' idiot!" 

I was staring up at her face with pleading eyes and a mouthful of butt plug as she said these things, and I didn't see her foot rare back as she said, "Just so you know you would never have a chance with me" and gave my tube-encased dick a swift kick. I went "mmmmmnnnphgnnn!!" as tears filled my eyes.

Then she said, "OK, you little pussy, here's the deal. If you keep that thing in your mouth while these guys drag your naked ass all over this parking lot, I'll tell 'em to stop beating you up. But if it falls out, you're on your own, faggot. Boys, teach him his final lesson, will you?" and she smiled sweetly at the two men holding me. They said, "You got it," and started pulling me by the wrists, dragging me across the gravel. I screamed and squealed, but my jaws held onto the butt plug for dear life. I just prayed that I wouldn't get jarred in such a way that the tip of it would hit the back of my throat and make me forcefully cough it out. My butt was ripped to shreds from the gravel underneath, and then at some point the men turned me over so I was belly-down, and dragged me along that way until my chest was thoroughly skinned and bloodied. 

Finally I heard Ms. Smeltzer call out, "OK, guys, let him go! I think Rick and I can take it from here." I didn't know who Rick was, but I was overjoyed to be released from the two men whose dragging torture left me writhing and moaning in the rocks. The voices, and laughter, and other sounds around me swirled together for a moment as I wallowed in agony, but then one voice pierced the blur, and I heard swift steps in the gravel, as the bartender advanced on me, and I looked up to see her carrying a glass. She said, "Here, I brought him another soda. This one's on the house," and she dumped a soda all over me. Most of it doused my head, neck, and chest. She laughed as she retreated with the empty glass. 

Next I saw that Ms. Smeltzer was talking with two or three of the guys in a kind of huddle, and then one of them broke off to talk to the bartender and ask her something. The two then went into the bar, and in a minute or so the man came back out with a flashlight, and clear rubber gloves on his hands. Soon he disappeared from my view, and I just lay on my back, looking up at the sky, and resting. I still had the butt plug in my mouth, so I breathed through my nose and occasionally closed my eyes. But doing so just seemed to accentuate my awareness of the stinging pain affecting nearly every part of my body, so I would open them again, and they seemed to float in my sockets, in my near-delirium.

I don't know how much time passed, but the next episode, in what I feared was a nightmare that would never end, began when Ms. Smeltzer and the man she'd been sitting with at the bar, who I learned was Rick, took me by the arms, and Ms. Smeltzer said, "Get on your hands and knees, ya little pussy. Hahaha, that's right, keep that butt plug in your mouth." Once I was in a hands-and-knees position, Ms. Smeltzer said to Rick, "Is he coming back? Will you check on him, see if he's finding it down there?" I didn't know what she was talking about, but Rick said, "Yeah, I'll check." 

He walked away from us, and once he was out of earshot, Ms. Smeltzer bent down and put her head close to my ear. She said, "At some point I'm gonna say, 'Go home to mommy, you little pussy', and when I do, you run and get your clothes, and run off like you're leaving. But just go down the hill and hide where you can see up here. When we all go back in the bar, sneak back up here and get in the back seat of my car. I left it open. There's a blanket in the back seat. Lay down on that blanket and just wait for me in the car."

Soon Rick returned, with another man. They were behind me, so I couldn't see what was going on. I heard Ms. Smeltzer say, "Did you find some?" and the other man said, "Yep." 

Ms. Smeltzer said, "Rub it on his ass, and his balls. Hahaha." I stayed put, and soon felt something tickling my butt and balls. 

"There you go," said the man. "Here, I'll get his legs, too. Now he's got something to remember you by for the next couple weeks. He'll be itchin' like a motherfucker in a day or two."

"Hahaha, good! Thank you!" 

"No problem." As the man walked past me and headed toward the bar entrance, I saw that he was the same man who had come out with rubber gloves and a flashlight. It was then that I realized Ms. Smeltzer had sent him into the adjacent woods to find some poison ivy or poison oak.

Next Ms. Smeltzer kissed Rick deeply, and said, "Now let me give you a proper thank you." She led him by the hand to the side of the building, and said to me, "You just stay right where you are, you little pussy, and watch what I'm gonna do for him that I would NEVER do for you."

As I stayed put on hands and knees, with the butt plug in my mouth, the two embraced and kissed passionately. Ms. Smeltzer's hand trailed down to Rick's crotch, and as they kissed, she unzipped his pants and un-did his belt. Soon she squatted down, and pulled Rick's boxer shorts down to free his dick. She sucked it in front of me, occasionally looking over at me and smirking. 

There were still three or four men standing around in the parking lot, and they lingered long enough to see what was developing, and to watch the sexy action for a few minutes. Naturally they laughed at how Rick and Ms. Smeltzer were forcing me to watch them, naked on my knees, scuffed, skinned, bruised, and bloodied from the beating and dragging I'd gotten. But at some point they decided respect for their friend Rick dictated that they not stay for the whole show, so they went back inside, leaving just the three of us in the parking lot. 

Therefore, only Rick witnessed the final humiliation, one he was not expecting but which gave him obvious amusement. I, on the other hand, was not shocked in the least, when Rick emptied his load, and Ms. Smeltzer held his cum in her mouth, then came over to me, removed the butt plug, pinched my nose shut, and then spit his cum into my mouth. Rick exploded in laughter when Ms. Smeltzer demanded that I swallow it, then put the butt plug back in my mouth. Then she said, "Now go home to mommy, you little pussy!" I bolted to my feet and scurried to gather up my clothing, or at least the shreds thereof, and ran off into the darkness and down the gravel driveway toward the road. I prayed that no car would come along the road at that moment, as when I got to the bottom I realized I'd have to cross the road to get to some vantage point where I could see the hilltop on which the bar stood.

I hid among some grasses and wild flowers on the other side of the road, in a spot where I knew no passing headlights would hit me, and from where I could see the parking lot and the bar's entrance. I was only there a moment when it occurred to me that I could remove the butt plug from my mouth. No one was outside the bar, and I couldn't wait to reach the safety of Ms. Smeltzer's car so I could lie down. First, though, I wondered if Ms. Smeltzer would expect me to have the butt plug back in my ass whenever she next saw me, or if it was OK to leave it out. Then I decided that was a stupid question, as I had visions of her freaking out and doing God-knows-what to me if I didn't have it back in. In any event, at least I wouldn't have to carry it in my hand if I put it back in my ass. So I slobbered and drooled over it as much as I could, and grunted as I replaced it.

Sneaking across the road and up the hill, slinking through the darkness and hiding behind various cars in the lot, I worked my way to Ms. Smeltzer's car. I quietly opened one of her back doors, and climbed into the seat. Indeed she had a ratty old blanket spread over the seat, and I lay down on it. Feeling some semblance of safety at last, I brought my hands up to examine my face with my fingers. I was swollen around both eyes and lips, and sticky from the soda the bartender had dumped on me. All over my body I felt stinging and throbbing from cuts, and in the low light I tried to see if some gashes had dirt or gravel dust in them, and rub some of that off if possible. 

As far as I knew, I hadn't suffered any broken bones. My arms and legs seemed to work well enough, so they seemed safe. But I couldn't be sure none of my ribs were broken or cracked, since there were so many painful places all over my body. 

Once I stopped taking stock of my wounds, I lay on my back, covered my eyes and forehead with my hands, shook my head, and broke out sobbing. The trauma of what this absolute MANIAC had just subjected me to hit me full-force. How in the world could the Trentstown University Director of Resident Life set up a poor, innocent TU freshman for a beating from a whole bar-full of older men? What else would I have to endure on the rest of her vacation? What "sights" would we be visiting over the next week? More rough-and-rowdy roadside bars like this one?? 

I must have dozed off for at least a few minutes, because I was startled when Ms. Smeltzer opened her driver's side door and got in. As soon as she closed it, she pressed the remote for the ball shocker and gave me a sustained shock on the high setting. She laughed as I grunted and whimpered, and writhed in the back seat. When she stopped, she said, "Well, wasn't it nice to get out for a while? Have you ever even been to a bar before?"

"No, ma'am."

"Oh, well, then this was a special treat for you. You should thank me."

Despite feeling anything BUT thankful, I immediately said, "Thank you, Ms. Smeltzer."

"Oh, you're welcome. It was my pleasure, believe me. Haha. I'm just sorry you didn't get to see Rick fucking me right outside the building here, just now. But don't worry, I brought you a little souvenir. I've got another load of his cum in my pussy for you to swallow as soon as we get back to the motel."

And so the first order of business, as soon as we got in the room, was for me to lie on my back on the bed. Ms. Smeltzer straddled my face and made me clean out her pussy. Then she started to grind on my face, and bounce on it, pounding on all my swollen places and making me grunt and call out, "Umph! Auugh! Ohhh! Oww! Oh-ho-ho, uggghhh, owww!"

When she was satisfied, she grabbed me by the hair and led me into the bathroom. "Get in the tub," she said. Once I did, she said, "Lie down." Then she stepped into the tub as well, and stood over me with her hands on her hips. I just looked up at her naked body quizzically, and then saw the first stream of her piss shoot out from between her legs. She pissed all over me, and I winced as the piss hit the cuts all over my body. Then she stepped out, pulled the stopper in the tub, and started running water. She sat on the toilet, lifted up one foot and then the other, and made me lick the piss from the bottoms of her feet. Then she found a washrag and tossed it to me. "I'll leave you alone for a while so you can clean yourself up."

As she walked out of the bathroom, I said, "Thank you, ma'am." This time, I really was thankful.

After we checked out of the motel the next morning, Ms. Smeltzer had me sit in the front passenger seat of her car, and she cuffed both my ankles and wrists. She told me not to speak unless spoken to. It struck me that such a rule was altogether unnecessary; what would possess me to try and make chit-chat with my insane captress anyway? I just sat in a daze and stared out the windshield, still traumatized from the night before.

As we were leaving Keenesburg, I noticed that Ms. Smeltzer kept slowing down and looking around, obviously looking for something. Then I heard her say, "Ah," as she wheeled into the parking lot of a grocery store. She pulled up along the curb and stopped. Then she stepped out of the car, carrying a padded envelope, which she dropped into a mailbox. After getting back in the car, she drove us out of Keenesburg, onto the freeway, and into the neighboring state.

Over the next week, Ms. Smeltzer really did do some sight-seeing, and we stayed in nicer hotels. But I have no idea what sights she saw, as I spent the days cuffed, bound, and gagged in closets or bathrooms whenever she went out. After two days my poison ivy rash set in, so I would spend these hours writhing in itchy agony. Ms. Smeltzer would not give me any sort of lotion for relief, and every night she would look at the rash and savor it, laughing. My pleading eyes evoked no sympathy in her, though; on the contrary, it would just make her want to reach for the ball-shocker remote.

Ever since the day in April when Tyler had made me put my phone on speaker so he could listen in when I told my parents I would not be coming home for the summer, he had made a rule that I was never allowed to make, or take, calls without him listening. While we were still at school, he would regularly check my phone to see if there were placed, or received, calls during the times I was not in his presence. He would also read all the texts I received (and read all my e-mails, too, as he'd made me give him my login info). Then, once school was out and the summer began, I was never alone anyway, so there was no opportunity for any private conversations on my part. Now, on the road with Ms. Smeltzer, my phone was in her purse, and I was not allowed to text, or place calls. If anyone texted, she would read it, and may or may not tell me what it said. As for calls, no one made any to my phone in the first three days or so. 

But on the third night after leaving Keenesburg, my phone rang in the middle of Ms. Smeltzer grinding her pussy on my face. She looked at the phone and said, "It's Mommy and Daddy calling! Let's answer it." She put the phone on speaker and laid it beside my head. As she sat on my chest, she listened in. 

"Hello?" I said.

"David."

"Hi, Dad."

"We got your package."

"My... package?"

After a long silence, my father said, "Yes. The video you sent us."

"What video?"

"Oh, you know goddam well what video I'm talking about! You're gonna try and act coy with me!? Obviously your mother and I are... DISGUSTED that you would choose such a ... a TASTELESS and... and disrespectful way to... to tell us... you're... you're ... gay."

Suddenly it hit me what he was talking about. I looked up to see Ms. Smeltzer smirking at me as she savored the horror on my face. Now I knew what was in that padded envelope she mailed from Keenesburg as we left. That envelope had my parents' address on it, as Ms. Smeltzer could easily access that address from TU's information database. And now I understood why she staged that scene of me sucking Tyler off, seemingly willingly, and expressing how glad I was that we'd been assigned as roommates. Now my parents believed that I had sent them a video to provide them with the full explanation of why I was so intent on spending the entire summer in Keenesburg with Tyler.

"Your mother is just beside herself, David. This is just unforgiveable, what you've done. But you've made your choice. Now let me tell you the consequences. We're cutting you off. You're on your own now. You'd rather spend the whole summer with your gay lover than spend any time with your parents? Fine. You have no parents now. There will be no tuition support, or support of any kind, for that matter. We will shut off your phone in two weeks. So you have two weeks to get yourself a phone. If you ever call us, we will hang up. When we find out what your new number is, if you call us, we'll block your number. By next month all of your things will be in storage in your Aunt Jane's garage. So if you want to go there and get your stuff, fine. But don't ever come to our house, or we will call the police on you. 

"That's it. Goodbye, David." And he hung up.

All of three seconds elapsed before I cried out, "Oh my GAAAAHHD!" Ms. Smeltzer chuckled as I burst into tears. I must have looked like a toddler who suddenly cries when he realizes his hand is caught in something and he's in pain. I sobbed and wailed, and blubbered like a baby. When I tried to bring my hands to my face, Ms. Smeltzer grabbed my wrists, pulled them down, and then pinned my arms down with her knees. But I was so awash in overwhelming grief that I risked angering her by bucking my chest up and down, and sobbing more forcefully. She slapped my face several times to warn me not to cry out too loudly, since we were in a hotel and she didn't want someone passing by in the hallway to hear. 

Tears flooded my reddened face, and I thrashed my head back and forth. "Ohhhh my god! What am I gonna dooooo *sob sob sob sobbbb* what am I gonna doooo???" Ms. Smeltzer continued chuckling as she sat atop my chest, and her enjoyment of her latest outrageously cruel triumph just made me sob more and more... and more. 

"Don't worry, Davey. I guess you won't be able to go to school anymore, but at least you won't be homeless. I'll take you in. Hahaha."

I bawled audibly, and could not stop. Ms. Smeltzer seemed to be waiting for me to calm down. But I couldn't. My parents, and my Aunt Jane, were the only family I had. My hometown was my lifeline. I had planned to move back there after graduating. Now I was an outcast and an exile. And it happened over the course of less than two minutes. It was just too much. It was even worse than if I'd found out both my parents had been killed in a car accident or something. 

And here was the Director of Resident Life, the person at TU you would go to if you had such a family crisis, to help you work through it. A person you should be able to count on for compassion in such difficult situations. Here she was... pinning me down, sitting on my chest, and laughing at the overwhelming, unbearable pain she had caused me and my parents. Thoughtlessly severing the cord between us, purely for her sadistic pleasure. 

When it became clear my sobbing would not abate any time soon, Ms. Smeltzer scooted forward, and started to smother my soaking wet, tear-streaked face. She rubbed her pussy all over it, saying, "Mmmm, yes... keep crying, Davey, your tears feel soooo good on my pussy." I continued bawling in grief under her grinding hips while she brought herself to orgasm.




The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 08



On the night before we were to return to Keenesburg, Ms. Smeltzer said, "I think you deserve a very special reward tonight, Davey." When a saw a smirk on her face, I was immediately overcome with fear. I almost felt panicky. To me, "special reward" sounded like a phrase she would use to describe some kind of traumatic, hellacious ordeal that would somehow be even more evil and outrageous than anything she had already put me through. 

When she saw the terror in my face, she chuckled and said, "You're scared. Haha. Good. I like when you're scared, and you *should* be scared of me. But ... you've found that out already. But I'm serious, Davey. I really am going to give you a special reward. You know why?"

"Why, ma'am?"

"Because it's been about 4 months now since you've gotten to squirt your pathetic goo from that pathetic thing between your legs, and all this time, you haven't complained, or said a peep about that. You even got out of your chastity tube back at Tyler's house... ha ... back when I made that little 'family' video for you, hahaha... and then when I put it back on you afterward... not a single word of complaint from you. And that's good. That tells me it's really sunk in what I told you back in April. You are nothing more... than a slave! You make NO choices. You have NO control. You have NO say over anything. And, as you obviously know now, and have obviously accepted, it is not your place to complain about ANYTHING. You do as you're told, and you accept anything done to you. Because that's your place in life. 

"You think I've destroyed your life, Davey? No. Not at all. I've devoted more time, energy, and effort to you than any other TU student I've worked with the whole time I've been there. And I've gone WAAAAY out of my way to give you ... the *perfect* life for you. The life of a slave. It's happened even sooner than I thought, in fact. I had no idea your parents would just cut you off like *that*. But that is just... *outstanding*."

She smiled broadly as she took a moment to savor what had obviously been to her an unexpected and delightful surprise: With one little parcel mailed to my parents, she had rendered me homeless and helpless. Not a single person in the world would now care enough about me to come looking for me and check on my well-being. My Aunt Jane would be willing to receive me in Bellewood long enough for me to retrieve my things, but I knew she wouldn't try to come to me, and I knew she would cut me off, just as my parents had done, after I picked up my things. No one else in Bellewood (among the few friends I had there) would know where to find me, even if they did have any inkling I was in trouble. 

That left only the people I knew outside of Bellewood. The complete list was: Ms. Smeltzer, Tyler, Shelly, Candice, and Dale. And as far as all of them were concerned, I was NOT in any trouble. I was living the perfect life for me.

But that night, I really did receive what, to me, was an incredibly kind and generous reward, considering its source. After Ms. Smeltzer unlocked my chastity tube and took it off me, I was allowed to lie on my back on the bed, and throw my knees back over my shoulders. Ms. Smeltzer smeared toothpaste on my butt plug and then jammed it in my ass. In a few seconds my ass started to burn, with pretty intense pain that lasted several minutes, until I adapted to it somewhat. Then she allowed me to stroke my dick with my own hand. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd been allowed to do that. She directed me to open my mouth and jack my dick, and be ready to swallow my own cum. She allowed me to pump it just the way I wanted, to enjoy a fully satisfying orgasm, notwithstanding the results of it going right into my mouth. Though the ball-shocker was still wrapped around my balls, and she held the remote in her hand, she didn't even use it... at least until I was finished and she had the chastity tube locked back on me. Then she couldn't wait to make me dance around the room a little.

Back at the house in Keenesburg, Ms. Smeltzer told Tyler, Shelly, and Candice that somehow my parents had come to the conclusion that I was gay, and that Tyler was my boyfriend. They thought that's why I wanted to spend the summer in Keenesburg, so, being homophobic bigots, they had disowned their son. I was now homeless and had no way to pay my tuition to stay at TU. Consequently, Ms. Smeltzer was taking me in, and I would live at her house. She asked the family if they would rather she go ahead and take me back to Trentstown with her now, or would they prefer me to stay with them for the next two weeks until it was time for Tyler to come back to school?

They said they would really appreciate me staying there, since, over the last week, no one had done any housework, and the place was an absolute wreck... which it was. Dishes were piled in both sinks and all over the counters and the stove. Laundry had piled up (or rather been strewn about, in every room). The living room and bedrooms were littered with plates, glasses, wrappers, etc. Obviously they had been counting on me returning to the house, so Shelly and Candice, who would otherwise have kept the place tidy, had done nothing. (And of course Tyler never did anything anyway, since his mother and girlfriend doted on him and did everything for him before I came into the picture.)

So I stayed there until the day came for us all to ride back to Trentstown. The 8-hour drive back was a repeat of our beginning-of-summer trip, involving me in the back seat orally servicing Tyler, Shelly, and Candice, as they took turns. Tyler said, "Davey, I'm really gonna miss you being my roommate. They might give me a new roommate, and who knows if I'll get along with him as well as you and I get along. But... Kelly said I'll be able to come over to her house and visit you as much as I want. I can just take the bus over there, it won't be too bad."

When they dropped me off at Ms. Kelly Smeltzer's house, I wore only a pair of Tyler's shorts, and one of his shirts. No shoes, socks, or underwear. I had nothing with me but a deactivated phone in my hand, which Ms. Smeltzer took from me when I came in. She had already confiscated my wallet three weeks earlier, and had made me use my bank card to empty my account of the couple thousand dollars I'd saved, to help finance her vacation (as though she needed my money). Everything I owned, apart from what was now at my Aunt Jane's house, had been stored at Ms. Smeltzer's house over the summer. I never again saw any of those items except the clothes. Tyler, Shelly, and Candice handed the remotes, to my vibrating butt plug and ball shocker, to Ms. Smeltzer, in essence transferring me into her custody. 

For the next eight months, I was a prisoner in Ms. Smeltzer's house. The only time I ever stepped out of it was when she drove me to the truck stop because Dale would be passing through and he was going to "look after me" for some time on the road. The time intervals depended on his itinerary, so I might be imprisoned in his sleeper cab for anywhere from 3 days to 3 weeks. On two occasions Dale found a "little fagboy" in a porn shop and brought him back to the truck. Each time it was a 19- or 20-year-old, thin and scrawny like me. First Dale would abuse the young man, and then Dale would let the guy have his way with me. 

On a few other occasions, Dale would meet another trucker over dinner in a truck stop restaurant, and, if they started talking about their particular proclivities, Dale might feel safe in informing his new friend that he had a "little fagboy slave", waiting in his sleeper cab to service them both.

But, as I said, at Ms. Smeltzer's house I was a prisoner. I was naked all the time, and of course I did all the chores when she was home. But when she was not home, she kept me shackled and chained in a finished attic. There was carpet, but no furniture in the room besides a rather plush chair, and an end table beside it. The chain did not allow me to reach either, so all I could really do was sit or lie on the floor all day long while she was at work. She left me with a dog dish of water, and a bucket for a toilet. She gave me no food all day long. At first the hunger was hard to endure, but after the first week I got used to it. And I usually just lay on the floor and slept all day long anyway, especially if she had forced me to stay up all night the night before, either doing useful chores, or doing something tedious like licking every inch of all the floors while she slept. Some nights Ms. Smeltzer went to bed and left me skyping with Shelly, who would watch as I fucked my ass with dildos and vibrators, or spanked myself, or tortured myself in whatever capricious way Shelly dreamed up. And there were also nights when Tyler rode the bus to the house and visited, and Shelly was always connected, to see what he would make me do. 

When she came home, she might release me right away, or she might make me wait an hour or two. Sometimes she would unhook the chain and make me sit in front of the chair in the attic, and lay my head back on it. Then she would sit on my face and enjoy a glass of wine while I was expected to tongue her asshole and try to breathe, which was obviously next-to-impossible.

When she took me downstairs, it was time for her to feed me by dumping food on the kitchen floor and making me eat it. Eventually, she indulged her desire to shit right into my mouth and make me eat it, and needless to say she inflicted on me unspeakable amounts of pain with whips and paddles. Beating me would make her pussy gush, and she would ride my face while I was still sobbing from the pain. Sometimes she wouldn't even remove the ball gag, as my tongue was apparently not necessary.

After five or six months of never-ending torture and abuse, I had become mentally rather numb. I had lost any sense of hope that I would I ever escape the "perfect life" into which Ms. Smeltzer had ensconced - more accurate to say entrapped - me. Just as she had said, it was not my place to make any decisions or have any control. My purpose for being alive at all, for being an animated creature, was just to do as I was told and accept whatever was done to me. 

So in March, when Dale and I passed through Bellewood, and stopped at my Aunt Jane's house per Ms. Smeltzer's command, I faithfully carried out the order she had given me: I was to go to my aunt's door with Dale and say, "Hi, Aunt Jane. This is my new boyfriend, and we've come to get my stuff." Aunt Jane was thoroughly disgusted that I was "dating" a man who was obviously as old as my father. She opened her garage and then stood on her porch with her arms crossed while Dale and I loaded the boxes into his empty trailer. He strapped the boxes down, and I gave my aunt a sad wave as we climbed into his truck and hit the road. 

Back in Trentstown, at the truck stop, Dale and Ms. Smeltzer climbed into his sleeper cab so she could give him a blowjob while I transferred the boxes to her car. At the house, we put all the boxes in the living room, and she sat on her living room sofa and watched while I unpacked them all. As I removed each item, she casually sipped wine and either said, "I can probably use that", or "Throw that away." 

Old yearbooks? Tossed. Pictures I drew or colored when I was a kid? Tossed. Trophies or medals I'd been awarded during my school years? Tossed. 

And so after that night, every link to my old life, my "imperfect" former life, was broken. Never again would I be David, from Bellewood, son of my parents, and nephew to my aunt. Now I was Davey, the complete slave to a woman in Trentstown. 

And I thought it would remain so forever. But looking back now, I realize that Ms. Smeltzer probably reached a point where the novelty of having a completely helpless boy at her mercy, and using him to indulge sadistic fantasies that she had perhaps contemplated for years, began to wear off. Or maybe once she had fully carried out her conquest of my life and spirit, I was no longer any kind of challenge. So when a new girl named Brandi started working at Maggie's Restaurant, and befriended Shelly, there was a new face watching my torments from Keenesburg, by skype. Brandi was 18; by that time I was 20, and as she watched Tyler, or Ms. Smeltzer, or both, abuse me, and make me lick and suck ass, pussy, balls, dick, or feet, once again I heard "wowwww" and "that's sooo hot" from a newly-fascinated neophyte to our world of degrading kink.

Brandi was fat and not at all attractive to me, plus she had a loud, annoying laugh, and just an overall way about her I found rankling and abrasive. She also smoked cigarettes, which I always had found a turn-off. As far as I knew, she had never had a boyfriend. She made it clear that if she DID have a boyfriend, she would want one who was as wimpy and compliant as I obviously was. She was DYING to meet me, and since she had a car, Ms. Smeltzer told her she was welcome to drive it to Trentstown and come get to know me better. "I don't think Davey's ever had a girlfriend, but as you can see, we've taught him well how to please, and serve. So if you like him, I might just let you two date."

My stomach turned at the thought. Eating Ms. Smeltzer's shit was almost less revolting. But sure enough, a couple of weeks later Brandi managed to get herself three days off from the restaurant: Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. When she got off work Sunday night, she couldn't wait to leave. She jumped in her car and drove through the night to Trentstown, arriving at dawn. After Ms. Smeltzer let her in, she told Brandi to wait in the living room "while I go get your boyfriend." She led me by a leash, crawling into the living room, where I was to greet Brandi by kissing her feet, which I did. Then Brandi turned around so I could kiss her enormous ass as well, and with that, Ms. Smeltzer handed Brandi the leash. Brandi pulled it up and had me stand, so she could survey me fully. She licked her lips as she savored the sight of the weak, scrawny, helpless figure before her. I was about an inch shorter and probably weighed half as much. Ms. Smeltzer's sparse diet for me meant that I was skin-and-bones, and always lacking energy or strength. 

Brandi got a close look at my chastity tube and ball-shocker, and had me turn around to get a look at the vibrating butt plug. Ms. Smeltzer handed her both remotes, and she tried them out with relish; she had been looking forward to using them for weeks. Ms. Smeltzer showed her where all the "tools" were kept: whips, paddles, dildos, vibrators, chains, shackles, cuffs, etc. She showed her the upstairs room where I had spent so many hours whenever Ms. Smeltzer was out of the house. Then she showed her a guest room, with a bed, in which Brandi could sleep. Where I slept, during Brandi's visit, would be totally up to her. 

When it was time for Ms. Smeltzer to go to work, she said, "OK, I'll be home around 5:30. You two have fun getting to know each other." 

"Oh, I will," said Brandi. "I don't know if HE will, HAHAHA. But I don't really care, HAHAHAHA!"

I bristled at her loud, annoying laugh. Ms. Smeltzer winked at her, and headed out the door to go to work.



The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 09



Brandi was obviously tired from the drive, and from being up all night. But she was also excited, so she took the time to whip me, fuck me in the ass with a dildo, make me suck it, make me drink her piss, make me eat food off the floor, and constantly shock my balls, or vibrate my butt plug, with the remotes. When she gave me a command, I didn't know if I was supposed to say "yes ma'am" or something similar, so I didn't say anything; I just did what I was told. So at one point, she said, "I really like how you don't talk. I don't really want my boyfriend to talk. I just want him to do as he's told. And you do that. I like that. I'm not interested in anything you have to say, anyway."

It was nearly noon before she began to get sleepy, so she announced we were going to bed. She had kept the collar and leash on me, and when she got in bed, she wore nothing but a shirt. She pulled my leash, to lead my face between her thighs and up to her hairy pussy. "Eat your girlfriend out," she said, and tugged on the leash, keeping a rhythm as I licked her. She tasted very strong and musky; it was quite a contrast from Ms. Smeltzer's pussy, which was always fresh and clean (and shaved). She lay back and relaxed as I serviced her, saying, "Ohhhhhh. Mmmmmmm, yes. Please your girlfriend." 

After she came once, while still holding my leash, she flipped herself over, to lie on her stomach. She pulled the leash again, and this time pulled my face into her huge ass. It was even bigger than Dale's. My head must have looked like she had a peach between her cheeks. She made me tongue her asshole, telling me to make sure I continued to do it until she was asleep, and then I could lay my head down on "my girlfriend's butt" and use it for a pillow. 

During Brandi's visit, Ms. Smeltzer played a supporting role, allowing Brandi to direct all the action. If I had to pick one word which best summarized Ms. Smeltzer's overall style, in terms of how she treated me, it would be 'terrifying'. She was a truly frightening, unpredictable maniac who had put me through the most traumatic and hellacious experiences of my life. Just a month or two before Brandi came along, Ms. Smeltzer got very drunk on wine one night and put me in elaborate bondage, with a dildo in my mouth that she warned me not to spit out. Then she put me in the bathtub and, while I lay helpless, she filled up the water and stood over me, drinking wine and savoring my frightened face, with her evil smirk. When the water reached the level of my mouth, she pulled the dildo out and said, "Bye bye Davey. It's been nice destroying you." I tried desperately to raise my face out of the water, but soon I had to hold my breath, as the water covered my mouth and nose, and my wide eyes looked up at her through the water. I thought, This is it. This psychotic sadist is the last person I'll ever see. She's grown tired of me, so now she's killing me. When I could no longer hold my breath, water rushed into my mouth and nostrils, and I started bucking and thrashing wildly. Just then she reached in and yanked on my collar, and pulled me up, so she could enjoy watching me spit and cough, and choke and gasp for the next ten minutes. 

So I had to admit Brandi's overall style was a huge improvement, even though I found her so thoroughly unattractive. The best word to describe Brandi's style was 'smothering' (literally and figuratively). She loved the fact that I was smaller and weaker, and that she could lead me around and just treat me like a plaything, or a piece of furniture. She enjoyed having me lie on the couch with my arms beside me, while she would sit on my stomach and chest. Her weight already made it hard to breathe, but then she might lay her big, meaty hand on my mouth and make it even harder. She loved making me just lie there and suffer in silence, while she watched TV, or talked with Ms. Smeltzer, or talked on the phone. She liked sitting on my face as well, both for her sexual pleasure, and just to enjoy her still, suffering "boyfriend", powerless under her large frame. 

Whereas nothing gave Ms. Smeltzer more pleasure than to see me crying, screaming, squealing, or looking at her with terrified eyes, Brandi's enjoyment came from my stoic acceptance of anything she wanted to do. "I just love how he's so wimpy and I can just do whatever I want. Oh god, it just makes me hot. And with this thing on his dick, it's like he doesn't even have a dick. I'll never even need to think about pleasing him. It's like he's a doll and doesn't even need sex, so I can just focus on my own pleasure." 

So on Wednesday when Ms. Smeltzer came home from work, she asked Brandi if she'd like to take me back to Keenesburg to stay there for a while. She eagerly agreed. I had mixed feelings about that. (Not that my feelings mattered one iota.) On one hand, I found everything about Brandi annoying, and she was ugly to me. But on the other hand, at least I didn't have to worry about her doing something that would make me fear for my life! 

Ms. Smeltzer gave Brandi "tools" she would need, like collar and leash, remotes, etc. If she gave Brandi the key to my chastity tube, I didn't see her do it. And I certainly didn't ask, because #1, Ms. Smeltzer had long ago forbidden me to even bring it up, and #2, Brandi preferred that I never open my mouth to utter anything. 

On that Wednesday night, I sat beside Brandi in the front passenger seat of her car for the ride to Keenesburg. She had a compact car, and her huge frame seemed almost to spill over into my seat. Her presence loomed large right beside me. She smoked cigarettes all the way there, and though her window was cracked, she made me keep mine rolled up. She would also purposely blow smoke at my head, and expected me to just sit there still and look dumb while she tormented me with it. She played music loud, and sang out of key, thoroughly enjoying the ride. When we stopped, she would get fast food, and when we got back on the road, I'd have to feed it to her while she drove. Now and then she'd say, "Mmm. That's really good, here, take a bite," and she'd spit her half-chewed food into her hand, and make me eat it out of her hand. Then I'd hear her loud, abrasive laugh. 

Thursday morning, we reached her house in Keenesburg just as her parents were getting up to get ready for work. She put the collar and leash on me, and led me through the front door, through the living room, yanking on my leash and pulling me with her into the kitchen, where her parents were having breakfast. I struggled to keep my balance until she came to a stop. "Mom, Dad," she said, "This is my boyfriend Davey. Don't be offended if he doesn't say hello, he's never allowed to talk."

I don't know if *I* should have been offended, but I wasn't surprised when neither of them said hello to me. Her dad said, "Ha. Jesus Christ. You found you a pussywhipped one, huh?"

"Uh huh," Brandi said, smiling. "I love it. He just does whatever he's told. It's great." 

Her mother just shook her head, and chuckled. 

Brandi said, "Oh my god, Mom, I have to show you this, look." She undid my belt and unfastened my pants. I just stood there, unresisting, looking and feeling like a moron, but by now that feeling was very familiar.

"Ummmm... what are you doing?" her mom asked.

"Just look, you gotta see this." She pulled my pants and underwear down to reveal my steel chastity tube. Then she took me by the shoulders to turn me around so they could see my butt plug. Finally, she demonstrated the ball-shocking remote, and her parents watched me grunt and wince while she shocked me and pierced the room with her hearty, annoying laugh.

"Wow," her mom said. "So you just have *complete* control over him, huh?"

"Yep. So you can be sure he'll be a *good boy* while he's here. When I'm at work, if you have anything for him to do, like chores or anything, just tell him and he'll do it with no argument. But I can take him over to Shelly's and leave him there instead, if you want. They already know him over there. So, either way... it's up to you."

"How long is he staying?"

"Well... I don't know. He kinda belongs to this lady there [by which she meant back in Trentstown], Kelly... like she's the one who's trained him to be a slave, you know? So ... like ... I don't really know how this is gonna work, but ... I'd like to just keep him if she'll let me."

Her dad said, "He doesn't have any choice in the matter, huh?"

"Haha, nope."

"None at all?"

"None at all. Like right now, he's my boyfriend 'cause me and Kelly say so. HAHAHAHA!! He doesn't ever have any choice about *anything*, Dad."

"Ohhh *kay*," her dad said, shrugging and taking another bite of his eggs. "I guess if that's the kind of boyfriend you want, then I'm happy for ya."

"Oh, it totally is."

Soon we went to bed, and of course Brandi pulled me by the leash into her pussy, where my face was buried until she had an orgasm. After that, she turned on her stomach so I could tongue her asshole until she fell asleep. (That became a regular bedtime ritual.) Her bedroom was a total mess, as she was a complete slob. Her bedsheets stank; there was no telling how long it had been since she had changed them. She only showered about every 5 or 6 days; when she got ready for work she would just wash her face and armpits, and put on deodorant. She didn't keep her pussy or ass clean, only washing them during her infrequent showers, so they always tasted strong. As time went on, I found that I was even required to eat her pussy when she had her period, something even Ms. Smeltzer hadn't made me do. (She preferred to just beat me more during that time of the month.) At first, it made me cough and gag, but she would just laugh, and pull my leash to bring my face back into her pussy.

After these pussy-on-the-rag eating sessions, she loved to lead me by the leash out of her bedroom and parade me around the house so her parents could see the dried blood and menstrual goo on my face. She just wanted to show off how complete her control over me was. One time her dad said, "God damn, girl. Even if you ARE gonna make him do that, at least wash his face before you bring him out here, so WE don't have to look at that."

I was on the leash all the time, as Brandi loved nothing more than to lead me around, and pull me this way and that, keeping me very close all the time. She loved how powerful that made her feel. She loved to take a drag on a cigarette and then pull my face to hers so she could blow the smoke right at my nostrils. I was just glad I never had to kiss her mouth.

Brandi's parents preferred her to leave me at Candice's house when Brandi went to work, because it made them uncomfortable to have someone there who wasn't allowed to speak. So of course I kept up all the household chores at Candice's, as Shelly and Candice would leave those tasks for when I was there and Brandi was at work. But when Brandi and I were together in the same place, she much preferred to sit on me, crush and smother me, and blow smoke in my face, than have me do chores. She saw me more as a plaything than a servant. So typically, Candice (and/or Shelly, if she was off work) would set me to chores, and then when Brandi got off work, I'd be yanked around, manhandled, and sat on by her. 

I stayed with Brandi for a little over three months, and at no time did I ever notice that she had the key to my chastity device, nor was anything ever said about it. Obviously, as Ms. Smeltzer (who I still considered my ultimate "owner") had made clear to me long ago, I was forbidden to ask about it. But in addition, Brandi never permitted me to speak at all, plus she was obviously opposed to me having any kind of pleasure. Our "boyfriend-girlfriend relationship" was about her power and pleasure only. 

When school let out at TU, Tyler was back home in Keenesburg. He congratulated me: "Hey, you finally got a girlfriend! Way to go, buddy!" The fact that I did not choose her, and never would have, was, I'm sure, in his mind, totally irrelevant since, from the first day we met, he obviously believed that others knew what was good for me, and I had no clue. 

Tyler's return meant that Brandi had new uses for my leash, such as pulling my face up to Tyler's ass and balls while he and Shelly were fucking. Brandi also began to help out her friend Shelly in another way: One of Shelly's favorite things was to watch my face grimacing in pain from a belt-whipping while Tyler fucked her from behind. So Brandi started whipping me while they fucked... and she could really swing a belt! 

And of course, we got occasional visits from Dale when he passed through, so I would have to lick Dale's hairy ass or suck his dick. Dale and Candice always fucked, and they allowed Brandi to join in. In other words, Dale got to enjoy threesomes once Brandi was on the scene. He had never gotten to fuck Candice and Shelly together, since Shelly was faithful to Tyler, and I'm sure Candice would have been jealous if Dale fucked Shelly anyway. But she wasn't jealous of Brandi, because even though Brandi was only 18 and Candice was nearly 50, Candice was still reasonably pretty, and had a pretty good body, too. On the other hand, Brandi, though young, was fat and ugly. (But then so was Dale, so he was fine with fucking Brandi.) 

At any rate, these threesomes were really foursomes if you count me. Not that my *pleasure* counted, obviously. But my mouth was there, and it got used, tonguing everyone's asshole, licking Dale's balls, and sucking Dale's cum out of Candice's and Brandi's pussies.

At the end of June, Ms. Smeltzer called Brandi, while all of us (except Dale) were over at Candice's house, and Brandi put the call on speaker. Ms. Smeltzer said she was overjoyed that Brandi and I had hit it off so well, and that our relationship was working out. But, she said, I still belonged to her, so she would have Dale pick me up in a few days, on his next pass through Keenesburg, and return me to Trentstown. She and I could still "date", but if Brandi would like to make me her own, Ms. Smeltzer said she was open to that. If Brandi would like to hear it, she had a proposition for her.

Brandi eagerly agreed, and Ms. Smeltzer said, "OK, well, it's rather simple: What I will need from you is 250 dollars in cash, and Davey is yours. When you have it, I will even personally deliver him to you by driving there the next weekend. But you cannot borrow it from anyone, and no one may give it to you. It will need to be money you have earned completely from your job. I know Tyler and Shelly and Candice can hear me, so I'm trusting them not to give you any money toward this. I want you to be able to say that you bought Davey completely on your own, and you earned him fair and square. Agreed?"

"OK! Agreed!" 

Ms. Smeltzer obviously knew that Brandi had no money saved. Her parents had sold her the crappy little compact car she drove and made her pay so much per month, so all the money she earned at Maggie's went toward that, and food, and gas, and cigarettes. On a bad night at Maggie's she might only bring home 10 or 15 dollars in tips, so, considering her regular expenses, it was going to take her 3-6 weeks to be able to accumulate 250 bucks to... well, buy her "boyfriend". 

As unattractive and annoying as Brandi was, and as much as I hated having my face in her stinky pussy and ass, I dreaded going back to Ms. Smeltzer's house and hoped that Brandi really was serious about coming up with ... what would you call it? My dowry? I was rooting for her to save up the money as quickly as possible. Being "owned" by Brandi was certainly more bearable than being the captive of the sadistic lunatic Ms. Smeltzer. 

Indeed, the night Dale returned me to Trentstown, he passed the evening at Ms. Smeltzer's, and the two of them engaged in a virtual frenzy of painful torture on me. She had purchased an absolutely enormous dildo, much bigger than anything that had been in my ass before, and they took turns raping me with it. One would drill my ass while the other beat me. I was ball-gagged (to prevent the neighbors from hearing my screams), but they used whips, paddles, his belt, and candle wax all over my body. Tears flew out of my eyes practically the whole time, and again I had one of those episodes where I felt I was going into shock and might pass out. It was as if Ms. Smeltzer was making up for the last three months of lost time. And if there was any chance I'd forgotten how dangerous she was, I got an unmistakeable reminder that night.

While I'd been away, Ms. Smeltzer had installed various hooks in the ceiling, so when they finally stopped torturing me, Ms. Smeltzer tied a cord around my neck and strung me up so I was almost hanging, standing on my tip-toes with my wrists cuffed behind me. Then she and Dale had sex on the living room sofa. I think he got the best pussy of his life that night, because she was drunk on wine and extremely passionate. (Also my pain and suffering made her pussy gush.)

After that, the three of us went to her bedroom, where she again hooked me to the ceiling, and I had to stand all night long facing her bed while they slept. I could not sleep at all, because if my head dropped down, I choked. I don't know if you've ever had to just stand in one spot for 6 hours (mercifully it wasn't longer than that, since Ms. Smeltzer had to get up for work), but it is BRUTAL! All night long I whimpered into my ball gag because of the pain in my legs and feet.

In the morning, Ms. Smeltzer dragged me up to the finished attic and chained me there. I dropped onto the floor and passed out. I didn't wake up once until she got home from work that afternoon.

The month I waited for Brandi to save enough money to make me her own was the worst of my life. Ms. Smeltzer told Brandi she could come visit me, if she wished, but no one would speak with me by phone, or skype with me until she had raised the money. The phone restriction didn't really matter to anyone, but the skyping ban did, because Brandi (and indeed Shelly and Tyler, too) enjoyed being able to see what was going on at Ms. Smeltzer's house, and to have some input on what particular indignities I would suffer. In a way, the skyping ban mattered to me, too, because Ms. Smeltzer was not quite as cruel to me when others were watching. 

And so Ms. Smeltzer had me terrified and crying almost constantly. Whether it was whips, candle wax, shit-eating, nearly starving me, hanging me, kicking me with her high heels, scraping the shit out of me with her nails, fucking me with the enormous dildo (perhaps with toothpaste or hot sauce on it)... oh, and let's not forget the ball-shocker ... she put me through hell. And occasionally she would say, "You better hope your girlfriend comes up with that money soon, because I don't know how much longer I can resist killing your little pussy ass!"

Her whole manner had become generally more menacing. She would bust into the house when she came home from work, slam the door, storm up to the attic, charge toward me and start hitting me and kicking me. She kept me in a constant state of terror.

Finally, on a Wednesday morning, the call came. Ms. Smeltzer was downstairs having her breakfast. I had already been put in the attic and was to be left there all day with no food. But Ms. Smeltzer came up and put the call on speaker so I could hear. Brandi had the money. It took her 4 weeks, but she did it. After last night's shift at Maggie's, she had made her goal. She had the 250 dollars. Ms. Smeltzer said, "That is GREAT, kiddo! You did it! I am SO proud of you. And now I know you're serious about giving Davey a good life, a life that he deserves. And of course, you deserve it, too. We will leave Friday after I get off work, and I'll bring him right to you. Congratulations!"

When the call ended, Ms. Smeltzer shocked me, and I don't mean with the ball-shocker. She smiled. Like a genuine smile, not an evil smirk. She said, "Did you hear that, Davey? Your girlfriend came through for you. You're gonna have a new home. I'm happy for you. Be right back." 




The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 09



Then she went downstairs for a few minutes, and when she returned, she had with her a hot plate of food. Bacon. Eggs. Toast. Fruit. A pretty large helping, too, and NOT all mixed together. She set it on the floor beside me, and even gave me a napkin. "You deserve this, Davey, because you've learned and accepted your place in life. Before I met you, you never would have known that a girl like Brandi was exactly the right kind of girl for you. But now you know. I know you do. You've been an excellent student. So ... eat up. Then get some sleep and dream of the happy life ahead of you."

I was so shocked that as she descended the stairs, I almost forgot to say, "Thank you, Ms. Smeltzer."

And that night, when she got home, she closed the front door quietly, and came softly up the stairs. Seeing I was awake, she asked if I was still tired. I said I was, so she said, "Well, pee in the bucket if you need to, and then I'm gonna put you in a bed. You can rest there a while." I thanked her, urinated, and then followed her to the guest bedroom. She attached a cord from my collar to a hook in the ceiling, but otherwise I was unrestrained, lying on my back on an actual bed. "Call me if you need anything," she said. "I'm gonna close these blinds, and you can sleep here as long as you want."

I slept through right until Thursday morning. A solid month of horrific abuse had made me much in need of a good, long, uninterrupted slumber. 

When Ms. Smeltzer came into the room that morning, she asked, "Did you sleep the whole time?" I said I had. She just smiled, and led me out of the room into the kitchen. "I have another nice, big breakfast for you today." I thanked her. She had me on hands and knees on the tile floor, and she set another hearty breakfast in front of me, on a plate. This time it was eggs, sausages, and pancakes. She said, "Hold on, though. Don't eat yet." Then she pulled her panties out from under her skirt, stepped out of the panties, and squatted over the plate, whereupon she pissed all over my breakfast. It flooded the plate and also spilled out onto the floor. "Now you can eat. Make sure you clean up the rest of this mess when you're done, too."

Well. I couldn't expect to eat like a normal person two days in a row.

After breakfast, she took me up to the attic, but chained me in such a way that I could reach, and even sit in, the chair that was in the room. 

Thursday night, she had me doing chores, but she did not beat or torture me at all. The physical abuse had stopped right after that phone call, and never returned. She told me, "Now you belong to Brandi, so I respect her ownership of you. I am keeping you well cared for until she takes possession, and from now on it's up to her what is done to you, and what you have to do. I'm sure you will see me again from time to time. I'll come visit. But now, it's not my place to subject you to things that she doesn't want.

"Of course you know I have no need of 250 dollars, and you know it's also a considerable sum for someone like Brandi to come up with. But I did that for you, Davey, because I needed to know she was really serious about owning you. I wasn't gonna hand you over to just anyone. I wasn't gonna give you to someone who would tire of you in a year or so. I've tried to arrange the perfect life for you.

"So ... you better not fuck this up, because I'll be sure and tell her that if she ever decides she doesn't want you anymore, she can feel free to bring you back to me. I know you don't want that. You'd have to be crazy to want that, hahaha. So ... better behave for your girlfriend. I know you will. I'm actually very proud of you, Davey. You used to be an annoying, anal, uptight little jerk. I hated you, you were such a little prick. Thinking everything had to be *just so*, just exactly your way. But, I'll give you credit: You've learned that in fact, you don't deserve to have anything your way. You've become a perfect little slave. You never complain, you never resist, and you never try to make any decisions. You accept the decisions made for you.

"So... tonight I'm going to reward you. I have no idea how long it's been since you've gotten to cum, but I have a feeling that after I hand you over to Brandi, it may be a LONG, LONG time before you get another chance... if you EVER do, hahahaha! I get the feeling she doesn't care AT ALL if you EVER cum again. So ... tonight, I'm unlocking that chastity tube, and you're gonna get to cum. I'm gonna get completely naked, and sit here on the sofa in front of you, and you're gonna get to look at me for as long as you want, and bring yourself to orgasm. I'm not even gonna beat you, or shock you, or anything. You WILL have to eat your cum, of course, but ... at least you won't have to eat a turd with it, hahaha!"

With profuse respect, and bowed head, I thanked Ms. Smeltzer again and again. She did indeed release my penis from chastity, and I was allowed to lie on my stomach on the hardwood floor, place my palms flat in front of me, gaze upon her glorious naked body lounging on the sofa, and hump the floor. When I came, I was allowed to pump to complete satisfaction, without a shock to the balls or any other interruption. When I finished, I continued thanking her over and over, as I slithered down to lick up the pool of cum I'd left. 

Again Thursday night she let me sleep in the bed in the guest bedroom, and again Friday morning I was served a full breakfast, albeit soaked in piss. Friday afternoon was again spent in the attic, but with use of the chair if I desired. Then, finally, 5:30 came, and Ms. Smeltzer arrived home, changed into casual clothes, loaded me into the backseat of her car, and headed to Keenesburg.

We arrived at Candice's house around 2 AM. I can't recall the exact date, but it was mid-July. Everyone was up and awaiting my arrival. The women had decorated the house and prepared a festive celebration. There were signs that said, "Congratulations, Brandi!" and "Davey luvs Brandi" (though none said "Brandi luvs Davey") and "Brandi owns Davey 4ever", and there were obscene cartoon drawings of the two of us. Brandi was drawn to look at least twice as big as me, and was shown clothed, smiling broadly, and holding my leash, while I was shown naked, trembling, and sad-looking. Or some drawings didn't include my face but instead showed my head buried in Brandi's ass. 

There was cake, and cookies, and punch, as well as hot food, and beer, liquor, and wine. I got none of it unless it was smeared on the floor by someone's foot, or smooshed into someone's ass. Brandi never let go of my leash the entire time, and the celebration went until dawn (although Candice and Tyler had each crashed around 3:30 or 4). 

For Brandi's 250 dollars, she received the key to my chastity tube, the ultimate token of my ownership. She immediately asked Shelly to figure out a safe place to put it. She said, "I really doubt I'll ever need it, I mean... one of the things I love about having a boyfriend like Davey is I never have to care about his pleasure, EVER. But... if I keep it, I'll lose it for sure, so... just in case we need it, can you keep it safe?" 

Shelly agreed. But I haven't seen the key since. And Shelly is not in Keenesburg anymore. Just under two years after I officially became Brandi's, Tyler graduated from TU, and he and Shelly got married. He got a job in Trentstown, where they now live. Before that happened, Brandi and I lived at her parents' house, but once Tyler and Shelly were both gone, Candice, never wanting to be alone, invited us to live with her. We pay no rent (or I should say, Brandi pays no rent; I have no income or money) but Brandi contributes to the utilities and cable and such. Needless to say, I do all the household chores, but to be honest, I'm glad Candice prefers the house orderly, because Brandi's room at her parents' house was a pig sty.

I still have a butt plug in most of the time, but my ass rarely gets fucked anymore. Dale visits whenever he can, and thankfully, his dick spends all its time in the womens' mouths and pussies. So obviously I still have to eat cum, but no longer directly from the source. Brandi doesn't let Dale take me on the road with him anymore, but then he, ever the Southern gentleman to the ladies, has never asked.

Perhaps since her best friend was now a married woman, Brandi decided she'd like to be, too, so during one of Dale's visits, he, Candice, Brandi's parents, and Brandi and I, went down to the Justice of the Peace and tied the knot. I took her last name. A reception followed at Candice's house. It was pretty tame, for the sake of Brandi's parents. She still stripped me naked and put my collar and leash back on so she could tug me around as she ate cake, and opened "our" wedding presents (which were just things Brandi had requested that had nothing to do with marriage - for example, a new laptop was one present). She waited until her parents left to make me eat cake out of Dale's ass, though.

So now I'm 22 years old. I thought at this point in my life, I'd be a TU graduate, starting a career with a company in Bellewood, finding my first apartment there, enjoying regular dinners with my parents, with two or three years to go before I even started thinking about marriage. Instead, I'm a stay-at-home husband, a college dropout, living in Keenesburg with my 20-year-old wife, who waits tables. My wife allows me no sex apart from licking her hairy, musky pussy and sweaty, stinky ass. She is a happily married young woman who loves pulling her hubby around by a leash, and loves the fact that he silently accepts her treatment, and she never needs to think about pleasing him in any way. 

I thought attending Trentstown University would prepare me for the perfect life. According to one of their employees, it did just that.

END