Taking Out the Competition: Theo

I've only ever had a handful of regrets. Mine was the type of life many wished for. But it wasn't just because I was lucky. I was careful in my actions. I was proud to say that I was the reason for my success; I was never too rash to do something stupid, never too hesitant to miss the things I wanted. That didn't mean everything always went the way I wanted. There were a few times when I thought things should have gone differently.

I regretted losing Ashleen. Our time together was the best I'd ever had. With her, it didn't matter if I was athletic or popular. It was enough that I made her happy and that she did the same for me. I never suspected that I could be the type to fall so far down the pit of love. Maybe if I had been as detached as I normally was, I wouldn't have lost her. At the very least I wouldn't feel like a gutted man, living life without my essential organs.

Ashleen and I met up at the park. She broke the news to me behind mental walls she'd put up. It was as if she was totally detached from the whole thing, and that made it so much worse. I was wrong to think that was the lowest things would get for me. After the events that transpired in John's basement, I went home in a daze, dark emotions swirling in my stomach. Without any distractions, the weight of it all pushed down on me. Ashleen had moved on so quickly and she did so with Alan. How could either of them do that to me?

But then, how could I have done what I did to Alan? As careful as I usually was, there were times when I would act out of character. It reminded me of a time when I was much younger.

The first time I'd ever hung out with John, we were both six. He pushed up a chair to my kitchen stove and said, "look at this!" Smiling back at me with teeth missing and an impish glint in his eyes. He turned one of the knobs on the surface of the stove and, after a crack of spark met gas, flames danced up from beneath the metal plate.

My mom warned me about playing with fire, and her voice resonated in me, warning me. But I ignored it. I stood up by John on the chair, mesmerized by flames. I was in awe that he could bring such a thing to exist just as grownups could. He said, "touch it!" and I did. I brought my hand forward and even though I felt the heat, I brought my fingers toward the plate and pressed down confidently on metal.

I'd never felt anything so painful before. When I yelled out, John look surprised. We both fell from the chair. My mom came rushing into the kitchen with a crazed look on her face and put my hand under cold water. She cursed herself for leaving us to use the bathroom. But she probably blamed John just as much. She never really did like him. To her, he was the bad influence that could corrupt her son. She warned me to be careful around him, to make my own decisions. Most of the time I did, but sometimes I just wanted to impress the boy who could make fire.

I imagined that was part of the reason for my actions. I grasped at that, trying to blame John instead of myself. Really, it was mostly me. When John told me that Alan had been fucking around with my girl, my anger had been palpable. It was like a thick sweltering cloud over my head. I couldn't think properly, I saw everything through tinted eyes. I couldn't be blamed for what I did. It was Ashleen. I just..

I just wanted to believe that. I made it back to my house, lay in my bed, and stared blankly as the ceiling fan whipped around. In truth, Alan didn't deserve what he got. That's what my conscience told me. But I still couldn't bring myself to fully accept that. As bad as it was, I should have felt worse than I did. What did that say about me? I wondered. There was only one thing I cared about, then. One thing I needed to understand.

I picked up my phone and dialed her number. The motion was perfunctory, I half believed that I was dreaming.

"You should stop calling me," Ashleen answered.

"You should stop picking up." I said. I couldn't recognize my voice. "...why?" I croaked.

"Why what? Why do I pick up the phone? I don't know."

"Why... with Alan."

She was silent for a long time. It must have been true then. I realized that part of me was hoping that it wasn't. That part dissolved quickly—a painful process.

"Just leave it, Theo." She said with some finality. I could tell she was turning off her emotions. Ashleen was good at that.

"I don't want you to see him again," I could hear the anger boiling up in my tone.

"I know it sucks, Theodore. I'm not sure how you found out... But you'll just have to move on, ok? Take care of yourself."

She hung up.

How could she not understand? Did she actually like Alan? The guy didn't care about her; he cared about getting his rocks off. I had to protect her from that, even if she didn't care about me anymore. Despite what my conscience told me, I didn't feel bad about what I did to Alan. He deserved what he got.

***

Having a slave had its benefits. I realized that for the first time after my intense workout at home one summer evening in July, seven days after I realized Alan deserved the worst treatment I could muster. I'd worked up a nice sweat and felt pretty good after my two hour session. Alan came crawling up to me, begging with his eyes to do his duty. I slapped him around a bit before I allowed him to have what he wanted. Once he looked thoroughly embarrassed, I traced the inside of my shorts with both thumbs and pulled them down.

My cock was already hard from expectation (this had been our routine for a few days now), and it smacked him on the face when it was freed from my underwear. As usual, Alan sat there on the ground, dumbfounded, mouth open. He was no doubt admiring the vision before him. My perfect body, rippling with muscles and gleaming with sweat, and my massive cock standing at attention waiting for service. "Get to it, bitch." I commanded.

It was the only prompting he needed. At first, I had to kick him around quite a bit before he would let me use his mouth. Now, he moved forward, opening wide to take in all my girth. I sighed when his wet tongue found the bottom of my shaft, but I wanted more, and he was going too slow. I grabbed a fistful of his dark hair in both hands and forced him deeper onto my cock. I don't know why he was so hesitant about it. He hardly even gagged anymore. John and I trained this slut pretty well.

I discovered that I loved getting head right after a workout. My ex had always been disgusted by the idea, and refused to even touch me until I had taken a shower. But Alan knew to take my cock whenever I told him to, no questions asked. And he took my cock all the way down and I made sure to choke him with it a couple times, just so he wouldn't forget who was in control.

When I finally came, I saw stars. I kept humping his face as I shot off streams of my massive load in his mouth. The cockslut started to choke and spilled my seed all over his chin and on the floor. Needless to say, I was pissed. I had given him the gift of my manly nectar and he was wasting it. "You dumb little fag! Clean it up." I said.

He licked his lips, used a hand to gather up my thick cream on his chin, and then licked that hand clean. He missed some. I pushed him down with my foot, forcing him to the ground. He looked at the tiny puddles of my shining seed and proceeded to lick that up as well. Seriously. How low was this slut willing to go?

Feeling great after working out my muscles and my cock, I went to the bathroom and turned on the water, nice and cool. Alan followed behind on all fours. When I finally had enough water for a bath, I dipped in and reclined in the tub with my knees sticking up out of the water just a bit. Alan knew his job and proceeded to lather shampoo in his hand. He massaged my scalp, thanking me for letting him clean my perfect body.

I just sat there and enjoyed as he worked every part of my body with his hands, massaging and washing me, one of his masters. He was completely under my control. There was no one here to help him; my parents were going to be out of town for the rest of the month. I never told Alan that though. I wanted him to believe that this treatment could last for only so long. But it could go on for as long as I wanted, the only exception being when John wanted to use him.

I started to get hard again thinking of all the things I wanted to do to Alan. After sleeping with the only girl I ever loved, he deserved every bit of humiliation I could dish out. Dominating him sexually was the most amazing feeling, and there was no way for him to come back from it. He had been my friend for a long time up to this point, always competing with me and trying to make me look bad. But it was hard to believe that that same guy was now lovingly running his hands over my abs and saying, "your body is so amazing, master."

After drying me off and getting me some fresh clothes to wear, I told him to go downstairs to the kitchen to make me some dinner. But first, I had him open his mouth and I started to stuff my dirty jockstrap inside. "I want you to suck on this while making my food," I explained. "I know how much you need the taste of my cock in your mouth, bitch."

It was the first time he protested in a long time. He stepped back and spit the jock out onto the bathroom tile. "Goddammit, dude... would you please quit it with this nasty shit? Haven't you had enough yet?"

I hated when he tried to talk to me as if we were still equals.

After John and I owned him that first time in John's basement, he was completely under our control. John had kept Alan at his house the whole weekend, having him do all his chores and using his body as often as he wanted. When I came over Monday evening after another baseball game, John had me sit down on the couch in his basement, with Alan on the ground, silent. I wondered how he got Alan to go along with this but he quickly explained.

John had taped our first session with his dad's camcorder, hiding it discreetly on a bookshelf. He plugged the camera into his t.v. and we watched our homemade porno. He had expertly placed the camera in a way that neither he nor I could be recognized, but Alan was in full view. He'd done a good job for someone who was normally such a dumb jock.

"Now this dumbass has to do whatever we tell him to do or this video is going out to all his little girlfriends." John had said.

Something had snapped in me when I talked to Ashleen a few days back. Whatever changed destroyed any hesitation I had. I was totally on board with keeping Alan as a slave and fuck toy.

Now, standing in the bathroom, Alan could not have forgotten about that video. There was absolutely nothing he could do except obey me and John indefinitely. But he still had a little bit of defiance left that we hadn't managed to destroy yet.

"I get it, alright? What I did... It was really stupid. I'm sorry Theo. I just want things to go back to the way they used to be." He offered his hand and smiled weakly. I decided to play along.

"Alright, dude. Here's the deal: you do whatever I tell you to do tonight, and we'll call it even. I'll even try to smooth things over with John." I took his hand and shook it with an overly firm grip.

"Now, bitch," I said. "Put my jock in your mouth and make me some dinner."

He was surprisingly obedient, probably because he thought that all of this would be over soon. After he left for the kitchen, I went to my room to relax. The sun was still fully out, pouring heat into my room and warming my sheets just the way I liked them. My room had been surprisingly clean since I started keeping Alan over as my slave. He did all my housework, as part of our agreement. As we went along, I got more creative, telling him he had to address me as "master" and walk on all fours.

Recently, I forced him to strip every time he came over to my place. The only thing he was allowed to wear now was a worn, old jockstrap that I found in the back of my drawer. It was way too small for him and his huge sculpted ass spilled out the back. The sight of it drove me crazy. The guy had a nicer ass than most women I knew and I wanted to fuck it pretty bad.

Something stopped me from doing it whenever I got the urge though. It felt like I would be stepping over the line if I stuck my dick up his ass. I wasn't gay. I didn't mind getting head from him because that was just a fun way to choke the bitch... When I went downstairs to the kitchen and saw that beautiful ass flexing and jiggling as he worked, I knew that any self-restraint I had was going to go out the window. I was going to ruin that ass that night, and I knew it.

I was sitting on the couch in my living room. Alan was taking a break from the kitchen, sucking on my toes, when John called. "Whats up, dickhead?" He said when I answered.

"Not much dumbass, just got our little bitch here worshipping my feet."

"Is that right? Well, I'm gonna need him over here pronto. Daddy needs some relief."

We both laughed. I told him that I'd send him over as soon as my food was done, and he seemed to be satisfied with that answer. In truth, I had no plans of giving Alan up. I was too riled up and ready to fuck that ass, and John wasn't going to get in the way of that. I had Alan finish up dinner and helped myself to the nice spread. Alan was always pretty good at cooking, and I was glad that he didn't pull any punches with my food. He made chicken breast, salad, mashed potatoes and gravy, and biscuits.

I devoured my food and had him shake his ass for me while I ate. It only made me hungrier for a piece of his backside. When I was finished eating, Alan cleaned up the kitchen quickly and started to get dressed in the living room. I never gave him permission to do that so I asked what he was doing.

"I-I'm getting ready to go to John's...master," he belated added.

"I don't think so, bitch. Get your ass over here." He did. I ripped up his shirt and threw it and his shorts in the trash. "You're not going anywhere."

He turned beet red. "B-But... John will get pissed at ME, if you make me late!" He sputtered.

I slapped him hard across the face so that he stumbled to the ground. He knew better than to talk to me like that. "Let's get this straight. You're my bitch before anyone else's, you got that? John's going to wait because I'm not done with you yet."

I dragged him by the hair to my couch and slung him over my knee. That beautiful round ass was sticking up, and out of his tight jock. I gave it an experimental slap and loved the way it moved when I did that. I started to wail on his ass until he was crying out and both cheeks were as red as cherries. "Now, take my clothes off." I commanded. With trembling hands, he pulled off my shirt, and with some effort, got my shorts around my ankles. I wasn't wearing anything beneath them so my leaden cock was out, the head sitting up past my bellybutton.

I made him turn around so that his ass was in front of my face and then had him bend down and touch his toes with his fingers. He was pretty flexible, but I made him stay like that for a while so I knew he was uncomfortable. Having him in that position gave me a full sight of his beautiful, tight, pink hole. Even though John had probably stretched it out numerous times with his thick cock, it still looked untouched. I wanted to make it gape.

After a minute of keeping him like this, he started to tremble and whimper quietly. I decided then was the best time to get started. I pushed my face between his well-defined ass and went to work on his hole. I could tell he loved it. Even though he was uncomfortable in his current position, he was cooing and sighing like a bitch in heat. I took my time tracing his anal ring with my wet tongue. And occasionally I would dive into his tight hole as far as he would let me. He always moaned in surprised delight every time I did this.

I put both hands on the mounds of his ass and pulled him back on my tongue. I made exaggerated sucking sounds as I lapped my tongue between his crack and he couldn't help but cry out. "I'm going to fuck this ass now," I announced when I thought his hole was nice and ready.

I had him lay on the couch with his legs spread open. I could see that he wanted this bad. He was breathing heavily, his hole was twitching, and the jock he wore could barely contain his large boner. I decided to play this to my advantage. I placed the head of my cock on the top of Alan's hole and stared down at him. His eyes were hooded and pleading. But the way he moaned as I rubbed my cock up and down made me certain he wasn't looking for mercy. He didn't want it to stop. He needed to say it.

I kept at it for a long time, smirking down at him with lust and loathing. His face was flushed red—he kept opening his mouth to say something but stopped himself. The bitch still had too much pride to ask for what he wanted. His cut abs expanded and contracted as his breathing quickened and sweat began to cover his body. But we hadn't even started yet.

"P-please," he muttered.

"Please what?" I asked in mock confusion.

"Don't make me...ahh... don't make me say it."

I poked the tip of my dick into his pecker and he pushed himself forward to receive it. I didn't let him get any further than the head though, and that frustrated him.

"God—please!" He moaned.

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me, master! Stick your cock inside me!"

I always knew he wanted it. He could thank me later for helping him realize that. But first thing was first. I leaned forward, both arms on either side of his head, and pushed into him with some effort. He was so tight! I'd never felt anything like it before. The pressure of his hole wrapping around my raging member made me leak with precum. I couldn't wait for him to get used to my girth. I kept moving forward until I was balls-deep in his ass.

Then I really went to work. I moved back and forward, picking up speed every moment, encouraged by his slutty squeals and moans. He wrapped his arms around my back to brace himself for the pummeling of his life. I wanted him to know that he was my property before John's. I hammered into him harder than I'd ever done before, harder than John had in his basement.

Alan's screams were so loud that I wouldn't be surprised if we'd receive a noise violation. I told him to shut up but he couldn't. It gave me a rush to know that I was the one forcing those noises out of him. This jock stud who went around fucking his pick of women was my complete anal slut. I saw it in his eyes. Complete ecstasy. He loved getting hammered like this by my powerful body. He moved his hands up and down my back, admiring the muscles there.

I yelled out because that tight ass was just too good for me to handle. I came inside him without slowing my pace at all. I wasn't ready to quit. Feeling my hot cream pour out inside was one of the hottest things I'd ever experienced. There was barely any room for my cock in his hole, shooting my massive load inside him completely filled him up.

It made jackhammering him easier though. His ass was so slick and hot I had no trouble maintaining my erection. I rammed him into the couch and he screamed out every time my balls slapped against his juicy ass. Cum spilled out, running down his ass and forming a puddle on the cushion. I pulled out of his ass and he moaned in disappointment. I, however, was quite pleased by what I saw.

"Hot damn, boy. Your slutty as is all mine now. I busted you open pretty good didn't I?"

His hole was open, gaping, begging me to put my cock, shining with cum, back where it belonged. I turned him around and decided to finish him off doggy style. His bubble butt stuck up, hole still gaping. I grabbed the elastic band of his jock and pulled him all the way back onto my cock until his luscious buns were pressed against my body.