The Making of a Slave - 14. Self Esteem

Well, I guess I should stick up for myself
But I really think it's better this way
The more you suffer
The more it shows you really care
Right? Yeah, yeah, yeah

Now I'll relate this little bit
That happens more than I'd like to admit

Now I know I'm being used
That's okay man 'cause I like the abuse
Now I know they’re playing with me
That's okay 'cause I've got no self-esteem

I got up and brought the towel to the bathroom. Before rolling it up and placing it on the floor by the toilet, I couldn’t resist taking a whiff. I held it close to my nose and sniffed. Not sure how to describe the smell - similar to mine with a chemical hint to it? I washed my hands and came out. Zack had already turned off the TV and the lights and was lying down flat on his bed under the covers.

My dick was still somewhat hard. I got in bed, slid under the covers and laid there letting the moment catch up to me. I felt so excited and alive. Part of me wanted to talk to him. Was he asleep or just lying in bed thinking about what just happened like I was? I figured if he wanted to talk, he would have said something so I remained silent. Instead, I replayed the whole scene in my mind.

His dick was really nice - straight, long with a perfect pink head. I was amazed at how hard it felt in my hand. He must have great blood circulation. The volume of cum was extraordinary. These weren’t just small spurts, he shot ropes. I’m talking like Spiderman web sling ropes! The 10th shot had almost as much volume as the first. No wonder he want’s a slave - he needs one just to clean up his mess! When I cum, it’s just two spurts at best, then a few dribbles. I imagined how much more powerful his orgasm felt. I mean, it had to. It lasted so much longer.

There was no offer or suggestion by Zack of reciprocation and I was OK with that. I wished that it was Zack that had the same feelings and desires for me as Finn. I would have agreed in a second. Unfortunately, Zack liked girls and that type of relationship with me could never happen. Instead, I have to be careful not to give away my feelings for him and possibly risk losing him as a friend.

After a few minutes, I heard Zack’s rhythmic breathing - he was clearly asleep. We had a long tiring day but I was still too excited to sleep. I reached down and started touching my dick. I was so turned on by what had happened and also knowing he was sleeping a few feet away from me. I brought myself to orgasm quickly and shot right into the bedsheets. I basked in that feeling for a little while and then drifted to sleep.

The next morning started with a bit of awkwardness. When I woke up, Zack was sitting up in bed looking at his phone. “Morning,” I said.

“Morning,” he replied as he kept going through his phone.

A few minutes went by in silence then Zack put down his phone and said, “I’m going to take a shower.”

I watched as he got out of bed and walked naked into the bathroom. His dick soft but still impressive against his swimmer's body. He came out after about 15 minutes wet and wearing a towel around his waist. He went over to his suitcase, took out underwear and clothes, dropped the towel, dried himself a bit and got dressed. I watched quietly how he bent down to slide his underwear on then sat on the bed to put socks on his feet.

I broke the silence and said, “I guess, I’ll take a shower too.”

“OK”, he replied.

Unlike Zack, I had slept in my underwear, tshirt and sleep shorts. I grabbed clean underwear from my overnight bag and went in to take a shower. I noticed the towel with Zack's cum in it on the floor by the toilet where I left it. I took a quick shower and, when I came out of the bathroom wearing just my underwear, Zack was fully dressed and packed to go. It felt strange not saying anything about what happened last night but I started getting dressed and said, “so, we have a breakfast meeting to go to and then back home.”

“Yea,” he replied, “that should be good and we’ll see how good the cafeteria coffee is.”

I finished dressing and packed up my overnight bag. There was a bit more silence but Zack broke it by asking, “umm, are you OK about last night?”

I quickly replied, “I’m totally cool with it, are you?”

“100%,” he replied. “If you’re a good boy I may even let you do it again,” he added while smiling.

“Oh thank you your highness,” I said sarcastically while doing a ‘we’re not worthy’ bow.

He opened up his arms inviting me to a hug. I slid my hands under his as he reached around me holding me and then tapping his hands twice on my back. “You’re the best,” he said.

“You too,” I replied as I felt the awkwardness lift from the room. I sensed an approving tone to his voice - almost like you did good Andrew. Whatever the tone, I was relieved he brought it up. I would have hated having that linger between us.

                                                                      ***

What happened on the trip brought on a reassessment of my sexuality. I knew I wasn’t straight but was I gay bi or pan? I did have somewhat of an attraction to girls and at times jerked off thinking of them. When I did think of girls, I imagined myself having an orgasm. When I thought of guys, I always imagined them having an orgasm. My part was submissive.

There was another shift in my masturbation thoughts and patterns. My focus on someone else’s pleasure didn’t even have to be sexual anymore. The incident with Ian and Finn brought back the memories and feelings of the butt facing and swirly. I started to try and figure out what each person was thinking and feeling while these things were happening to me.

I focused on different people and the tiniest of details and put myself in their shoes. I used the facts I knew and my imagination to surmise what they thought and felt. For example, how did Finn feel the morning of the swirly? Was he conflicted because Zack tried to talk him out of doing it? Was he excited to be part of it? What did it feel like to hold in his morning pee? Was he uncomfortable? Was it so bad that he was afraid of wetting his pants on the way there? What did it feel like when he peed in the toilet with others watching? Did he feel power along with the relief in his bladder? Did he think about how they were going to put my head in there as he was filling the toilet with his piss? What was going through his mind after he finished peeing and stepped away to let Ian take his turn?

What did he feel, after all the peeing was done and he stepped back, having a front row seat to watch me being picked up, turned and dunked? How did he react to the cheering and shouting, knowing he was part of it? What was it like for him walking away with the rest of the crowd after it was done? Was there a feeling of accomplishment? Was it like what an athlete feels walking off the field after a victory? Did he enjoy seeing me humiliated? Did he get the same feeling watching me kiss the bike tire? All these thoughts went through my mind as I masturbated while trying to hone in on his feelings. I became aroused as I connected with what others were feeling while witnessing my humiliation.

While I would still get off imagining Zack cumming, my thoughts would many times shift away from that. Although Finn was the first person I thought of in this way, it would be someone different each time. It included people who participated, people who just watched and people who weren’t even there but heard about it. Even when I thought about Zack, it wasn’t necessarily about him having sex anymore, it could also be about his involvement in the incidents.

I even played out in my mind some of the alternatives to the swirly that Zack told me they considered. Specifically the one where they would hold me down and pee on me. A few times I actually lied in the bathtub and peed on myself imagining it was someone doing it to me.

I had these types of masturbation sessions pretty much each night. It was the last thing I did before bed. I hated that I did it and felt guilty about it but found it difficult to avert my thought process. I knew it showed a severe lack of self esteem but it felt impossible to stop. The only saving grace for me was that I had the ability to compartmentalize things and be able to go on with life and get things accomplished. My sexual thoughts were kept private and separate.

                                                                  ***

Only a few days had passed since we returned from the college trip when I got the first of what eventually became routine calls from Zack. It was during Easter vacation and Zack had spent the day doing spring clean up work in his front and back yard.

“Hey, feel like coming over and giving me a HAND,” he said, emphasizing the work hand.

“Why, what are you doing?” I asked.

“Well, I was mowing, raking and fertilizing the lawn,” he continued, “but that’s not where I need a HAND.”

I laughed and said, “Oh, duh! So you mean, like right now?”

“I mean like ten minutes ago,” he replied.

“Anyone else home?” I asked.

“Just Trevor,'' he replied, “he won’t be a problem.”

“OK,” I said, “I’ll be right over.”

Zack lived just a few houses away and I knew to enter through the back door which was in the kitchen. When I got there the house door was opened so I knocked on the screen door. Trevor was sitting at the kitchen table and said, in his usual slow measured tone, “Zack is in his room.”

“Thanks Trev,” I replied. “Is everything good with you?”

“Yes,” he answered. “I’m having ice cream and I put whipped cream and sprinkles on top. Some of the sprinkles fell on the floor so I have to clean it up.”

I looked down and saw a few sprinkles on the table and some on the floor. “Want me to help you clean?” I asked.

“No,” he replied monotonically. “I’m going to do it when I finish. More of them could fall and then I’d have to clean up twice. I only want to clean up once.”

“That’s good thinking,” I said. As I spoke a smile came across Trevor’s face. “Well, I’ll see you later,” I added.

“See you later, Andrew,” he replied as he waved with one hand.

I walked past the kitchen to the front of the house and climbed up the steps to Zack's room. The house was a standard cape cod with the dining room to the left of the kitchen and the living room in front of the dining room. The rest of the first floor had the master bedroom, bathroom and second bedroom that they used as a den. They had finished the basement, when Zack’s father died and his grandparents stayed there. His grandfather had since passed.

Upstairs were two small bedrooms and a bathroom. The ceilings were slanted. Zack’s room was on the left. I knocked on the door.

“Come in,” he said in a groggy voice.

I walked in and closed the door. The lamp was off and the only light in the room was from the late afternoon sun peeking through the dormer window. He was diagonally lying on the bed on his side, fully clothed, with his head on a pillow and his feet hanging off the side. The bed was unmade with the bedsheet and blanket down by his feet. “Hey, what’s up?” I asked. “Are you OK?”

“Yea, just tired,” he replied. “Can you take off my shoes?” He asked as he slightly moved his foot towards me.

He looked like he wanted to fall asleep rather than get jerked off. I sat on the bed by his feet and started to untie the laces. The boots were a dark tan color with brown laces and a lighter tan rubber bottom. Once untied, I pulled off each boot, one by one, and placed them on the floor.

“Feels good to have them off,” he said with his head still sunk into the pillow. “I’ve been doing yard work for like 5 hours. Every part of me aches. Can you get the socks too?”

I pulled off his socks. “Let’s air out those puppies,” I said as I placed the socks on the floor.

He exhaled, still with his head on the pillow and in a sleepy tone said, “rub them.”

I wasn’t one to generally notice feet but I always thought Zack’s were really nice. There was no curvature to the pinky toe. They were basically the same size as mine even though he was taller. I started to rub them.

“Gently”, he ordered in the same tired voice.

I moved closer and put his feet on my lap and worked my fingers over his toes. They felt warm in my hands. I removed a bit of white link from his socks and then carefully massaged the balls of his feet. I waited to see if he was going to say something and when he didn’t I kept going.

“Oh, that feels good,” he said, “but, c’mon, time to get to work.”

I took his feet off my lap letting them fall on the bed as I stood and paused for a minute. There were no further instructions forthcoming so I figured he wanted me to proceed and take off his pants. I moved to his belt buckle and opened it, then undid the top button of his jeans and slid down the zipper. It felt good to be able to touch him there while he just allowed it.

I reached back to the top of his jeans to slide them off and he lifted slightly off the bed to make it easier for me. I pulled his pants entirely off him leaving him in just a t-shirt and royal blue boxer briefs. His dick was already pretty hard so I carefully maneuvered the waistband over his dick and slid the boxer briefs all the way off him.

“Do you want the shirt off too?” I asked.

“No,” he replied, “that can stay on, but I want you to get totally naked before you touch my dick.”

I pushed back a bit and asked, “Do I have to?”

“Yep, definitely, I want you to,” he replied. He pointed down to the floor by the head of the bed and continued, “also, my cum rag is under the bed tucked in by the frame, get that so it’s ready.”

I didn’t want to protest, but thought maybe I should. In the end, all I could manage after a few second pause was a breathy sigh, “Ugh,” I said as I proceeded to do exactly what he said.

I started to undo my belt buckle and asked, “are you sure Trevor won’t walk in?”

“Positive,” he replied. “He totally listens to me and knows not to interrupt me. If something happened, he would knock and not come in unless I said so.”

I nodded and continued removing every stitch of my clothing. Once naked, I knelt down and reached under the bed to feel for the rag. It was wedged under a slat right where he had pointed. I pulled it out. It was an old dark blue pair of boxer briefs, with holes and dried semen all over. “You want me to sit on the bed to do it?” I asked.

“Na,” he replied, “just stay on the floor.”

The floor in his room was carpeted so kneeling on it was comfortable. I moved to the feet side of his dick and took hold of his cock in my hand. It had the same steel rod feel as last time and I gently started stroking. After a few minutes he said, “Use your other hand to play with the area under my balls.”

I moved two fingers under his balls and lightly applied some pressure. I felt him mildly extend and push against my fingers. “Yea, that’s it, right there,” he said. “Ahhhh.”

I kept stroking with one hand and feeling with the other as I listened to his breathing. When I noticed the subtle change in the pattern I picked up the cum rag. It wasn’t a moment too soon as I heard that same quick intake of air as in the hotel room and he started ejaculting. His dick was pointed up towards him but close to the edge of the bed. I carefully caught it all in the rag.

He came with the same amount of force and volume as I kept jerking him until I heard the secondary soft moans and recovery breathing. “Fuuuuuuck,” he said in a still breathy voice, “I don’t know what your trick is but you’re good.”

I just chuckled but it felt good to hear him say that. I held on to his dick a bit longer until it started to get soft and squeezed any remaining cum from his dick into the rag. “Should I put the rag back where it was?” I asked.

He looked over at it then moved more onto his back and centered in the bed and said, “na, it’s time to throw that one out. Just take it with you and bury it in the trash when you leave.”

“You want me to go now?” I asked.

“Yea,” he replied, “I need to crash. Can you slide my underwear back on?”

“Sure,” I said as I did it - with him lifting up again slightly. His dick was now totally soft. He reached down and pulled the sheet up and slid his legs underneath. I got dressed and picked up the cum rag. I rolled it up and held it in my hand. He had already closed his eyes.

“Thanks, Andrew,” he said without opening his eyes.

I replied, “sure, talk to you later,” as I left the room and closed the door behind me.

When I walked downstairs Trevor was still in the kitchen. He had finished his ice cream and was doing what looked like school work. “Hey Trevor, how was the ice cream?” I asked

“Good,” he responded. “I didn’t make any more mess and I cleaned up the first one.”

“That’s great, Trevor,” I replied, “good job.”

“What’s in your hand?” He asked innocently.

“Oh, it's just garbage,” I replied. “I’m going to throw it out on my way home.”