Bait and Switch

Recap:

Asher is a promising college football player on the back-up team desperate to make first-team who has a career ending secret: he craves being dominated by men. When he rudely rejects the Dom Henry because he's on first-team, Henry gets revenge by catfishing Asher, tying him up, and forcing his load down Asher's throat.

Horrified, Asher vows to never see Henry again, but crawls back when Henry promises he can improve Asher's football, if Asher agrees to become Henry's sex slave. Asher submits and is forced into chastity. After a bratty refusal to be fucked, Asher was punished with earning four facials, including his own straight roommate Mike.

Finally done, Asher gets tied naked to Henry's doorframe and fucked until he blows handsfree. The next day, a rumor swirls at football practice about Asher. Henry finds the blackmailer, and fucks him into submission for Asher. Asher devotes himself fully to Henry in gratitude - but his trials are about to climax.

Chapter 7

The next few days at practice went great, besides the fact that I was walking side to side. The rumors seemed to melt away like water.  My football seemed to be transforming into the best it had ever been with my cock locked up in chastity. And after practice nearly every day, Henry was using my ass like his own personal dumping ground for his cum. Any day he wasn't, I was at his dorm room on my knees, his cock in my mouth, begging him to.

"Please Sir," I said, drool coming out of my full mouth. Which I swear just made his cock bulge harder and thrust even deeper in my throat.

The football, the chastity, the fucking, the hands-free orgasms. Everything seemed to be working. I felt... happy.

The first hiccup came in the middle of the week when I walked into my dorm room after practice, vision blurred through bliss, and nearly tripped getting to my bed.

Staring down, I saw what had almost tripped me was a huge pile of laundry that wasn't mine. On top was yellowed socks and dirty underwear that stunk like they hadn't been washed in years.

"Get to it, faggot," Mike said. "I don't have anything to wear." I turned and saw him, feet up in his desk chair, playing some phone game. He was in boxers, broad muscles relaxed.

"W-what?" I asked.

"Well, I realized," Mike said, not looking away from his phone game. "Since you're a faggot, right? I'm actually doing you a favor letting you suck down my jizz."

I stared at his bare, dirty feet.

"So now you're gonna need to earn the right to my cock. Is that an issue, gay boy?"

I swallowed. Great. Add laundry to my list of services I had to do for dominant assholes. Still, I was a sub, and my place was below men like him. If he told me to clean his clothes with my tongue, I'd have to do it.

"Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir," I said.

He laughed, shaking the desk. "Faggots sure are weird. Bully them and they thank you."

I grabbed the clothes, trying not to let him see how red my face was. "Yes Sir."

In the laundry room, I put Mike's clothes in and waited. As I was pulling the clothes out of the dryer and folding them, I heard footsteps. Glancing over I saw another frat boy-like guy that I thought I'd seen with Mike before. I quickly glanced back.

"Wha- hey isn't that Mikey's shirt?" the frat boy asked, barging in and unfolding the top shirt.

I felt my face shudder, and tried to stammer out an answer.

"Hey, this one too..." he started undoing all the shirts. I tried not to let out a groan of agony.

"Please, S-," I said, almost calling him Sir by force of habit. "-stop."

He looked up, like a cat had just meowed. "You're not doing his laundry for him, are you bro?" A shit-eating smirk was on his face.

"I..." I desperately tried to think of something, anything to say. "I lost a bet. He's my roommate."

"Fuck! That's embarrassing!" the frat boy said. He shook his head, then threw the shirt at me. As I refolded everything, he tossed his clothes in the washer. "Next time, you're doing my laundry too," he said with a smile that felt a little too ominous.

"R-right," I said, trying to laugh it off.

A few minutes later, I walked back with the re-folded laundry. What had just happened? Other men never used to treat me like that. Like I wasn't there, or like I was... like they knew what kind of person I was, deep inside. A fag. Did he somehow know? Had Mike told him? Or even worse... was it just obvious?

Mike was lying in his bed on his laptop when I got back. He glanced up with a half nod, still in his underwear. "Put the clothes where they belong, fag," he said, pointing to the closet.

As I did, I watched as he got out his headphones and sleeping mask. The bulge in his underwear was already at full mast by the time I was done. I got on my knees, and got ready to swallow his thick, sweaty cock.

"Beg for it," Mike said with brutal power.

I paused, mind still in the laundry room.

"Hey!" Mike said. "Or I can just stroke off."

He took his hand and started to beat his meat through his boxers, staring at his laptop. Straight porn was visible.

"I'm sorry Sir," I said, swallowing.

I looked up. Up at Mike's pristine muscular chest. There was a reason his clothes smelled so musky, so much like a man. Even here, he was glistening with sweat. I took a deep breath in and let it intoxicate me.

"Fuck, I need your cock Sir. I need cock to be whole. I need to suck cock to get any sexual satisfaction."

"You get off on this shit?" Mike asked.

"Yes Sir."

"It turned you on to do my fucking laundry?"

I thought to the frat boy. If he knew that I had been a fag, if he had whispered in my ear right then that he'd fuck me raw in that room...

"Yes Sir. It did."

"Then get your prize stupid faggot."

He took out his ripe cock and slid down his sleeping mask. As my mouth enveloped his member, sounds of moaning females escaped his headphones. I really was just a hole to him.

The thought made me go faster. I was going to give this man the blowjob of his life. I slammed down to the base and all the way to the tip of his head.

His moans got me drunk. I'd make him addicted to me sucking his cock. Make him use me every day.

Faster and faster. His cock got stiffer in my mouth. He was getting close. Fuck yeah. I'd make him make me clean for him. Fold for him. Cook for him. I needed to serve men. All men.

"I'm cumming bitch!" he cried out. I dove down onto his cock and felt the wades of cum blast down my throat in glorious heat. A deep sigh of relief escaped his lips, and my body shuddered.

After a minute, he pulled out. I stared up at this alpha who used to just be my roommate. I was bound to serve him. Not like Henry, not as a slave. But as a fag should serve any man willing. Another minute passed, and he took off his mask and headphones.

The intensity was gone from his eyes, replaced by flickering to the side. His Adam's apple twitched. Something was different. For a horrible moment, I thought he regretted it.

"You... you liked that, right?" he asked, voice softer now.

It took me by such surprise I couldn't say anything.

"I mean, me using you as a chore slave. I don't know any of this gay shit, and you're such a faggot I could traumatize you and wouldn't even know."

I couldn't help but smile. Yeah, not like Henry at all.

"I loved it," I said.

Mike nodded, shoulders falling in one relaxed motion. Then, he smirked at me.

"I loved it what?"

I felt my face burn red. "I loved it, Sir," I said, staring at the floor.

I felt a cool slap to the face. "Yeah, pretty nice to have a free bitch to use," Mike said. "And when next you see a pile of laundry, I better not need to remind you."

"Yes Sir!" I said.

The next day after practice at Henry's house, I was tied to Henry's bed as he glided ice cubes over my naked body. The more I thrashed in pain, the harder he pressed. So I gritted my teeth and endured it.

"You know why I'm doing this, right slave?" Henry asked.

"No, Master," I said. I wanted to say because watching me in pain turned him on, but I didn't dare.

"You're tense, fag. Your muscles need relaxing. Think of this as an ice bath."

Fuck. Just when I thought I knew Henry, he'd always swerve. "Thank you, Master," I said, mouth hung open in shock.

A moment later, he unbuttoned his pants. His raging hard cock came out. "And while we're doing that, I might as well get enjoyment," he said with a smile, as he plunged his cock into my gaping mouth. I tried to scream in anger, but the cock tasted so good, I let him face fuck me as frozen ice melted on my chest.

"Also, boy," Henry said through each thrust. "There's something happening Friday night I'll need you for."

"Yss Sss?" I asked, mouth full of cock. Henry's low laugh rumbled my back.

"I'm attending a little party, with a few members of first team. And you're coming."

My eyes lit up at the words. A first team party? This was my chance. To network. To get to know the team, and prove that they could trust me.

His massive cock was rhythmically fucking my face. "Well... you're not coming. But everyone else will be".

My mouth spit out the cock at the realization of what he said.

"Hey!" Henry said, and slammed his cock deep in my throat. I gagged hard. "Did I say you could stop."

"Pll Sss," I said through cock. The party for first team was an orgy? But that would mean...

Henry sighed. He nodded, as if realizing he was speaking to a dog. Then pulled out. I called to him, but he walked off. Straining against the restraints until he came back, his cock glistening with lube, and hand full of something.

In one motion, he dumped a dozen ice cubes on my chest, and then lifted my ass up to press his cock against it. I squealed in overwhelming pain as the cold overtook my chest. His cock entered my hole as the ice slid back and forth on my bare chest with each thrust.

"Speak then, slave," Henry said as he fucked me.

"I can't," I said gritting in pain. "Can't go to the party. Is it really... a..."

"Yes," Henry said, mad smile on his face. "How else do you think a bunch of men release all that pent up sexual desire? We're not all fags like you that need chastity, you know."

It was all so much to take in.

"I trust everyone going," Henry said. "It won't be like when that rumor spread. What happens in first team will stay with first team."

"But that means," sick realization washed over me. "Will-" I could barely say the name. "Jonathan be there?" The rival quarterback I needed to replace.

"You'll be on your best behavior. I will not, have, my, slave, embarrass, me," Henry said, each word accompanied by a brutal thrust.

"Please Master... I won't submit to him," I said.

He stopped thrusting and stared down at me. "Really, boy?"

"Submit to you, without question. Real men? Yes. But Jonathan, he's my rival. Submitting to him would be admitting he's superior to me. Both on and off the field."

He considered this. "So this is the one thing your ego won't give up."

I sighed in relief. He understood me. "Yes Sir."

There was quiet. Something was calculating inside his head. Then I felt his cock begin stabbing me again.

"Alright my little faggot. You won't have to worry about Jonathan."

"Thank you Master," I said. Melting into his body.

"So, you'll come."

Going would change everything. Anyone who saw me.

"Yes Sir," I said, meeting Henry's piercing stare. I would be Henry's party slave.

Days flew by before the party, and I was on fire. Each day at practice I kept looking at first team, fantasizing about which of them would be at the party. I was starting to learn their names and play styles. Like Ben, a first team defensive linemen with a brutal rush. Take away my padding, and his hulking body could crush me. The anticipation of what I'd be forced to do made my cock leak in its cage. But each time I saw Jonathan, my mouth would twitch with growing bile.

At practice the day of the party, coach set up another scrimmage between first and second team. The first three quarters second team fought for every point, and we were neck and neck with first. Sweaty and exhausted, I watched as Jonathan threw deep -- right into our safety. The next play, first team defense Ben and Steven rushed me hard. I saw an opening deep by the sidelines. I threw and the receiver caught it right in front of Jonathan's shocked face.

Second team surrounded me in cries and war shouts. I looked up to the blue sky, breathed in the air, and a smirk took over me. Jonathan could never have done what I had done. The cage in my pants, the sexual frustration -- it was all in service to how much better I was becoming on the field.

As first team walked off, Jonathan lagged behind. I jogged up to him, smacking him on the ass. He turned, eyes narrowed. Sweat dripped from his blonde hair down his clean cut, chiseled face that just looked so punchable.

"Come on, don't look so blue," I said, unable to help myself.

"What, excited to finally touch the grass instead of the bench?" he snarled.

I knew I should be quiet, but words that had been building up for months poured out. "Look Jonathan. Your time as QB, it was alright. But it's getting old. It's time for change."

"Wow, must've taken you weeks to think of that," he said.

"I'm gunning for first team QB," I said. I swallowed, and breathed in deep. "And I'm better than you."

Jonathan raised his eyebrows. Then he broadened his shoulders, and leaned in close to me.

"On, and off, the field, I own you," he whispered in a dangerous tone. "I'm better in every way."

When he said own something snapped in me. "The only thing you're better at," I snarled, "is cleaning up my piss stains."

His mouth flicked into a small grin. "You'll regret that," he said, then turned away. It was so unlike Jonathan, for just a moment... I was worried.

Once I went over to Henry's though, I forgot the fight as we prepared for the party. Henry inspected my naked body thoroughly. Fingers gliding over my shaved asscrack, gripping my smooth neck, watching eyes narrowed as I douched out crystal clear water. I got dressed and walked with Henry over to a frat house owned by a first team member. It was a huge three story building with perfect hedges outside hiding the aftermath of obvious beer pong nights. Right before we entered, Henry took out a black blindfold and placed it over my eyes. Darkness was all I could see as his hand gripped mine behind my back and led me in.

From the moment we stepped in, a cacophony of sounds overwhelmed me. Thumping bass from speakers shook the floor, and layers of incoherent chatter echoed across the black void of my blindfold. I was thrusted forward and stumbled with two left feet into the space.

"Keep moving boy," Henry said into my ear.

I tried to swallow, but my throat felt dry. As we walked, I truly had no idea what was happening. Where was I being led to? How many eyes were staring at me? I felt a hand against me. A bump -- or someone wanting to feel?

We stopped for a minute. Unintelligible sentences with just a word I could make out. "Fuck yea!" "Nice" "Really?" "That's hilarious."  Laughs and hollers reached my ears. Were they at me? Or just normal party banter?

Twisting paths eventually led to stopping in a room where the music seemed just a bit muted, though the bass still vibrated through me. Henry's firm hand guided my arms up and back until I was against a wall, arms stretched skywards. Then, I heard a clink, and cold metal wrapped around my wrists. I let out a moan of protest as steel cuffs closed down. With all my strength, I pulled, but I couldn't move from the wall. Even though I had no idea if anyone was looking at me, I felt so exposed.

"Good boy," Henry growled at me. "You're gonna be displayed like this, you got that? After all, you gained quite a few admirers as I paraded you through."

Chuckles and hoots reached my ears as my blood turned cold. Admirers.

"You ever gonna let us get off?" a voice said. I tried to make it out but couldn't.

Henry laughed deeply. "I've tied him up with a sign. If you need more to get off, talk to your doctor, not me."

Ooo's emitted from the crowd, egging him on.

"Fuck you," the voice said, and heavy steps came towards me. A sign? What did that mean, Henry hadn't put any sign on me. Before I could think that through-

"Ahhh!" I cried out.

Two hands gripped my nipples through my shirt and squeezed like I had just spat on his face. Pain surged through me and my arms bulged against their cuffs in futile escape.

Laughter filled the room. By my nipples, my body was dragged towards the hands.

"I'm gonna fuck your bitch up, Henry," the voice said.

I felt my heart skip a beat.

Henry just laughed. And I began to realize just what I had gotten myself into.

The hands let go of my nipples, and I stumbled back. I let out a gasp and tried to steady myself when -- whack! A stinging slap across the face sent me seeing stars. "Please," I gasped out, unaware of who or why I was hit. Totally at the mob's mercy.

Hands snatched my pants and tugged them down, dragging my underwear with it. The cock cage swung out for all to see. I held my breath. Their perception of me was about to change forever. Nothing I could do would rebuild the sight of my cock locked away like a clit.

Laughter erupted from the room.

"No way -- the rumors were true?!" a voice asked between laughs.

"And nothing will leave this house." Henry's voice was absolute. Law.

There was silence for a moment.

"We're bonded in brothership," a different voice said. One that was so familiar... I just couldn't quite place it. "Seriously, good work on training this one Henry. Mind if I move him down a bit to really get some use from those holes?"

They were talking about me like a useful piece of furniture to move. Fuck, why did that make my cage ache? I felt large hands unbuckle the cuffs and then push my head down until I was on my knees on the cold floor.

"Alright, let's see if you've trained his throat as well," he said. I felt a huge, girthy cock push against my mouth. And then I realized who it was.

Ben's seven-inch cock slid down my throat and held all the way in the back as I gagged. Ben, first team's defensive lineman. I tried to move my mouth back to escape, but he just crushed my face harder against his cock. Tears began to well up in my eyes. There was no way out of this.

And then they descended.

Strange hands began to touch my back -- not Ben's. They traveled down to my ass and began to squeeze it. I moaned through cock, which I swear made a spurt of pre-cum ooze down my throat. A third person -- at least I thought it was -- ripped my shirt off and used their tongue against my nipples. I squealed in ecstasy, overwhelmed by sensation. Ben's cock consumed my smell as he refused to budge. Cock and hands and tongue, laughter and taunting and shouts -- all my senses were turned to 11.

"Move him to the table!" I heard someone shout.

Ben's cock mercifully left my throat. I gagged up saliva and air, gasping for breath. Then, I was lifted into the air and slammed down a moment later onto a wooden table, chest up. Before I could recover, I felt a different cock enter my lips. Coughing in shock, I fought against it, but they kept angling it deeper and deeper down my throat.

"It's okay baby boy... I got you," the voice said as he thrusted over and over. I realized it was Steven, first team defensive.

Fuck. Fuck, they were all using me like a dumpster whore.

My body was being desecrated, but conversations were still happening like I wasn't even there. "So how long'd it take to train your fag's gag reflex away?" I heard Ben ask. "I've been testing a few fags myself, but hate how needy they are."

Steven's cock got faster and faster as my mouth hung open.

"We can schedule dual training," Henry said. "Mine and yours servicing us at once. Might be beneficial."