by Drew Sera
“Anth,” Colin said, and I looked up at him. “Almost there?”
I nodded and looked back down at the clothespins on Chloe’s nipples. Colin reached around and took hold of the clothespins, and I reached down for the clit clamp. Colin stilled his body and suddenly filled the room with the sounds of the release of his orgasm. He pulled the clothespins off, and I removed the clit clamp as her pussy was gripping my cock for all it was worth. Faintly over my own loud release, I think I could hear Chloe’s tiny voice yelling out in ecstasy.
I have never, ever had an orgasm like that. Maybe it was because the girl was so tight. It was amazing. I was pretty sure that my preferred way to come now was when there was another cock in the girl to make her tighter.
“Fuck,” I sighed as the three of us came down.
Over Colin’s shoulders, I could see a lot of spectators but needed to focus on what was going on right in front of me.
Chloe’s head was smashed into my chest, and my stomach was wet from her drool. Her blindfold was askew, and she needed down.
“Be still, I’m going to pull out, Chloe,” Colin announced.
I let go of the bar above Chloe’s head and held her hips still as Colin pulled out. As soon as he was out, he took his condom to the trash and pulled his jeans on. While Chloe leaned against me, my cock slipped from her as I released her wrists from the restraints. Colin had her ankles released, and all of Chloe’s weight fell against me.
“I have you, Chloe,” I said and pulled her blindfold off.
I lifted her and put her in Colin’s arms so I could pull on my jeans. We took her to the care station area and sat with her for a while. I never had a girl go that “trance-like” on me before.
Colin was really good with this girl. He held her close and stroked her hair. He rubbed her arms and legs while he talked with her. Colin was phenomenal at after care. I could learn a lot from him.
After we finished the after care, Colin and I went upstairs to the bar where Matt, Blake and a handful of other people were waiting for us. Matt slapped his hands down on Colin’s shoulders and playfully punched my upper arm.
“Damn, you guys. That was an awesome scene!” Matt said and handed Colin and I bottled water.
I was standing there chugging the water when I overheard some Domme’s commenting about how hot I looked holding the bar above Chloe’s head. Colin and I were looking at each other with smirks on our face as we both listened to the women.
“He’s so sexy,” one said to the other.
“He’s a little devil, that one. Damn, Anthony’s hot.”
My face fell when one said, “His body would be perfect minus that terrible scar on his side.”
I looked down at my bottle of water and then at my watch, trying to look busy and occupied.
“How did you get it?” Colin asked me quietly.
I shook my head. Blake was right there too and heard.
“I was doing something stupid at the time.”
I took a long sip from the bottle, emptying it and walked between Matt, Blake, and Colin to the bar.
“Warren…Coke, please. Lots of ice.”
I tapped my thumb on the bar, hoping Warren would hurry it up. Colin appeared next to me.
“Make that two, Warren.”
With my glass in my hand, I turned and headed outside. Colin was right behind me, but I stopped and looked at him.
“Sorry, I was just going to sit outside and drink this Coke. Nothing exciting. My balls are empty so there won’t be any hot, sexy scenes,” I told Colin.
He peered over his glass at me and shrugged.
“That’s perfect because my balls are empty too and I’m fucking exhausted. I’m not looking for entertainment or conversation. I just want to sit quietly and drink this Coke.”
It was really strange, but it was actually nice to just sit outside and drink my Coke with Colin. I thought it would be odd with Colin just sitting there, but it wasn’t. He was easy to be around, just like Blake. And after all, he and I just shared a woman in a pretty fucking hot scene.
I had hoped that he wasn’t going to ask me about my scar again. Every damn time I see it or get asked about it, I transport back to that night. And I absolutely hate going back there. Colin didn’t ask though. He did eventually start up a small conversation, but it was a good one that I was very comfortable with.
“So, when’s our next co-topping scene?” he asked as I was finishing my Coke.
“You liked it, huh?”
“Hell yeah. You and I rocked that girl.” Colin said, and I nodded. “Seriously, I’d like to continue, if and whenever you’re up to it. I had a great time, and I think you and I have good communication regarding scenes.”
I was kind of surprised, but I agreed with him. I needed to think about this some and not rush into anything else until I have a few days to think. By Monday I’ll have things sorted out and can talk to Blake if I need to.
“Do you and Matt co-top?” I asked.
“No. We don’t. Matt and I have been friends since before we were born and while I consider him my brother, he and I wouldn’t be good co-top partners. Matt is very methodical. He loves being the only one in control.”
I nodded and shook the ice in my glass. Colin raised his eyebrows at me and held his glass up to show me he was out too.
“Refills or are you done?” he asked.
“I should get going,” I said and stood.
Colin and I went inside, and he mentioned that he was going to Blake’s tomorrow for the football games. I was glad because I thought it might give me more of a chance to get to know him.
Once we were inside, I was looking around for Blake to say goodbye to him and eventually found him standing near the stairs to the dungeon with Paul. Blake was standing calmly with his arms folded across his chest and Paul looked worked up about something. Colin noticed and said something.
“That guy seems agitated,” Colin commented.
“Anything gets that guy in a fit. Probably noticed a change in the club provided lube or condoms,” I said under my breath as I continued to watch Blake calmly take the verbal assault from Paul.
Moments later Paul looked my way and gestured with his hand at me before he turned his back to me.
“Got an admirer in him, huh?” Colin asked.
Colin’s a bright guy, and I had a feeling he probably had Paul sized up.
“Yeah, something like that. Stay away from him, Colin. He’s wrapped really tight.”
“I can see that. You and him ever get into it?”
“He’s all bark...but has the potential to bite. His hobby is to mouth off.”
I said goodnight to Colin and Matt, and Blake caught me on the way out and walked with me to my truck.
“How did you like your scene with Chloe and Colin?”
“I fucking loved it. I don’t know how to explain it though.”
“You don’t have to explain it. Reflect on it, and we’ll chat Monday about it.” I nodded and unlocked my truck. “Anthony, that was an amazing scene to watch you in.”
“Thanks, Blake. I had fun with it.”
By the time I got home, I was pretty certain that these were the kind of scenes I was interested in, preferably. I quickly took a shower and some ibuprofen for my side that flared up during the scene. I think it happened when I held onto the bar overhead as I fucked Chloe. Think I just tweaked it or something.
I flopped on my bed, face down, but with a pillow under my right side. Sometimes the pillow or my football help ease the aches when they pop up.
I was hungry and crept down the hall to the kitchen but stopped in my tracks when I heard Bruce’s voice. I tried to avoid being anywhere near him when possible. My mom and Bruce were sitting at the table talking, and there were a bunch of papers spread out on the table.
“I know he’s in the way a lot, but I’m not sure that I can give him up,” my mom said.
Bruce was angry and slammed his hands on the table.
; “If you were so unsure, then why did you even bother getting the paperwork, bitch?”
“I don’t know, I hadn’t thought of the loss of money each month from his father,” she yelled back at Bruce.
He grabbed her by the hair and slapped her across the face, making her cry.
“Hey!” I yelled and ran towards the kitchen. “Don’t hit her in the face! It hurts!”
Bruce let go of my mom and shoved her away from him and stalked towards me. He grabbed a fistful of my shirt and shook me hard before slapping the side of my head.
“Is this better, you little fuck? Is it better that you take it instead of your bitch mother?”
I tried to shield my face, but Bruce was stronger. He punched me in the stomach, sending me to the ground. As he pulled his belt off, I held my hand up, begging him not to hurt me.
“Scared, now? Not so brave, are you? Fucking little baby.”
“I’m not a baby! I’m four!”
“You still pee your pants. You’re a baby!”
Bruce dragged me to the living room, pulled my pajama pants off, put me over his knee and began spanking me with the belt.
“Mom!” I cried out as she stood in the kitchen.
“The bitch doesn’t care about you!”
“Mom! Help me! Make him stop!” I cried.
She was ignoring me. Why wouldn’t she help me?
“See, she hates you too. Just like I do. She hates you so much that she was filling out papers to give you away.”
What?
I started pounding my fists on Bruce’s leg and tried moving off his lap, but his grip was so firm. I screamed for my mom, and Bruce slapped my mouth and gripped it in his hands.
“But if she gives you away, then she won’t collect the money your dad sends her for you. So, we’re fucking stuck with you!”
Bruce shoved me off his lap and walked out of the room. I quickly got to my feet, pulled my pants up and ran to the kitchen, crying. I looked at the papers, and though I couldn’t read most of the words, I saw my name.
“Mom! Why are you giving me away?”
I didn’t understand what was going on and what was going to happen. Where would I end up? Her hand slapped me in the back of my head, and she snatched up the papers.
“I’m not giving you away! Your father pays me too much each month! If I got rid of you, then Bruce would have to find a full-time job. But, you really need to be a good boy, Anthony.”
“I will. I promise.”
“No more complaining about shit or saying you want or need something.”
I nodded and put my hand over my tummy. I wouldn’t tell her that I was hungry. I would show her that I could be good. I don’t need anything.
Chapter Three
December 1996
As I stood in my living room with my arm wrapped around Cathy, I couldn’t help but feel lighthearted as I watched Anthony laugh effortlessly with Colin and Matt.
Cathy and I hosted our annual Christmas party, and our extended family was a little bigger this year with Anthony, Colin, and Matt. I knew that Matt came from a very well-off family and that Colin had been an extension of that. Matt and Colin were flying to California tomorrow to spend the Christmas holiday with Matt’s family. I wasn’t worried about them having place to go.
Anthony was the one I was worried about. It was his first year without his father, and I knew he didn’t have anywhere to go but would spend this Christmas alone. And I’ll be damned if he’s going to spend it alone. I truly felt that if his dad could see him now, he’d rest easier knowing that his son found his niche and a few guys that I think he would become great friends with. I didn’t know his dad and only met him the one time, but I could tell that he cared and worried about Anthony.
Leading up to Christmas, I noticed Anthony beginning to withdraw again and I feared that he may be leaning toward thinking that he needed another physical session. I couldn’t nag on him, but I hoped that he would tell me if that need in him arose. Could I carry out that kind of session for him? I wasn’t so sure. But I knew that I didn’t want him seeing strangers for it either.
It was the day before Christmas Eve, and I was trying to get Anthony to agree to spend the holiday with Cathy and me along with my brother, sister and their families. He hadn’t committed to it but hadn’t declined either.
I was able to talk Anthony into helping me get a Christmas tree at a local lot. I knew that he was aware that I was deliberately doing damn near anything to make sure he wasn’t alone. He played along and that was fine. I wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone and that I cared.
“Glad you have a truck, Anthony. Thank you for helping me get the tree. My nieces and nephews will be thrilled,” I said as we pulled into my driveway with it.
“It’s no trouble. I wasn’t doing anything. You could have found a moderately sized tree, though.”
“Anthony, you’ve been in my living room; if I put a moderately sized tree in there, it would look tiny and like an afterthought. This is a statement tree.”
“It’s a big fucking tree.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as I helped him pull the giant tree out of the bed of his truck. As we set it up, I thought it might be nice to chat about Christmases of our youth.
“Did your family get a Christmas tree each year?” I asked him.
“Uh, no. Hand me the lights and I’ll get up on the ladder.”
I plugged in the light strings and handed him an end.
“No tree, huh?”
Anthony didn’t respond but was immersed in the placement of the strings of lights. I let him work in peace for a few minutes.
“We always had a nice tree. A few weeks before Christmas, my parents would take my brother and sister and I to pick it out. We always fought over which tree we wanted. I always hated the sap though.”
“Yeah, I’m finding a lot of sap in this monster tree of yours,” he sarcastically jabbed.
“At least you never had to argue with a sibling over a tree,” I commented.
“Yeah, thankfully.”
Anthony’s tone and demeanor had changed drastically since we came inside and began setting up the tree.
“Did you ever stay up and wait for Santa?” I asked him.
“No. Hand me that light string over there,” Anthony said and pointed to a set of lights that were twinkling.
“Did he just magically surprise you on Christmas morning?”
“No…Do you have an extra surge protector for all of these plugs?”
“It’s by your foot, Anthony.” He grabbed it and plugged it into the wall with all the light strings plugged into it. “Santa never surprised you with something, huh?”
“No, Blake!”
Anthony shut his eyes and rubbed his hand over his face. I obviously annoyed him and began to apologize.
“I’m sorry, Blake. I didn’t mean to snap. Santa never came to my house. I was bad. Always. He never stopped for me. I never had a tree…never set out cookies…nothing.”
I was stunned. I felt horrible for talking up Christmas so much when it was apparent that Christmas meant nothing special to him.
“I’m sorry, Anthony.”
“Nothing to be sorry over. I just…was a really bad kid.”
“I have a hard time believing that.”
“Believe it.”
I relented with the Christmas talk and let him get comfortable again. He was worked up and kept rubbing his chest. I think by the time he went home, he was back to his usual self, but I was still a little worried. I told Cathy about it and I could tell her heart went out to him too.
Chapter Four
December 1996
“Did any mail come for me?” I eagerly asked when Bruce was carrying in the mail and sorted it as he walked.
“No, you little shit. Unless you want to pay the fucking bills.”
Bruce put his hand on my head and shoved me away. I followed him to the table and watched as he sorted the mail.
“I told
you there isn’t anything here for you. I don’t see anything addressed to an asshole mistake,” Bruce said as he flipped through the mail. “I’ll be so fucking happy when school is back in. At least it’s a few hours away from you.”
I hated Bruce.
“Oh, fuck, here. There is some mail for you.”
I stopped in mid-stride on my way to my room and ran back to the table. Bruce held up a red envelope and waved it in front of me.
“Says here it’s from the North fucking Pole.” I reached for the letter that I had been waiting for since Thanksgiving. I wrote him early because last year I hadn’t written him early enough. This year would be different. “Wait, did you write Santa a letter?”
“Yes,” I said anxiously.
Bruce laughed and motioned for me to come closer to him. I went right away. I wanted my letter. He could do whatever he wanted to me. I just wanted my letter. He pulled me onto his lap, and I flinched when he lit a cigarette. He let go of my letter, and his hands went under my shirt.
I held the perfect red envelope in my hands and ran my finger over my name. A candy cane sticker sealed the envelope, and I carefully peeled it off and stuck it to my shirt. I opened the letter and saw a gold “SC” seal at the bottom. This was official! My eyes raced to the top of the letter, and I began reading.
Dear Anthony,
I received your letter, and I’m surprised you even bothered to write to me. You were a very bad boy last year, and you haven’t been any better this year. You’ve had to visit the principal’s office at school; only bad boys visit the principal. And you have accidents. Very naughty. I’m sorry to tell you that you will not be getting the jacket, football or backpack that you asked for. Try to be a better boy next year, Anthony.
Santa Claus
What? No! I was good this year! He has the wrong Anthony!
Eventually, Bruce let go of me, and I ran to my room with my letter. I was going to write him again and politely tell him that I think he has the wrong Anthony. I had to plan this perfectly.