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I hadn’t even taken off my shoes from walking into my apartment when I heard my roommate calling me from his bedroom.

“Hey Joey, come in here!”

Jesus. I just got in from work and already I have to deal with Ben again. Sometimes you just want a minute to yourself to relax, right? And it felt lately like I never had a quiet second alone- Ben had always acted like he owned the entire place since day one, and it had only gotten worse since he’d started working remotely. It seems like he only leaves to go to the gym or to go get drunk with one of his ex-frat bro friends.

I sighed and set my bag down.

“What is it, Ben?”

“You won’t believe who I ran into today at the gym,” he called, as I slumped up the hallway to his room.

Another empty-headed jock? I wanted to say. How can you even tell them apart?

“Who’s that?” I asked, feigning interest.

“Michael,” said Ben. “Your ex.”

I stopped. Great. When assholes collide. I turned into Ben’s room. He sat on his bed shirtless, leaning against his headboard, his meaty legs barely contained by a pair of blue gym shorts.

“We talked about you,” Ben continued. “I told him you’d been a pain in the ass lately.”

“Hey, fuck you!” I snapped, my anger rising.

“Michael said you can get that way,” Ben said calmly, seeming not to notice or care. “He said he had a little solution for when you got too uptight.”

Oh fuck. I thought. He wouldn’t fucking dare.

“Don’t you even fucki-”

“Sleepy Boy.”

The shout died in my throat. It felt like a battering ram had just hit my chest.

“Well, I’ll be fucked,” said Ben, grinning.

“Don’t… you…” I mumbled. “Fuck you, you….”

“Sleepy Boy,” said Ben again, assertive.

My hands fell to my side.

“Sleepy boy.”

My jaw hung loose. Unwanted relaxation flooded my body. I was… I was angry? Right? Wasn’t I? About… something…

“Sleepy boy.”

Mmmm, that warm feeling, flooding my shoulders, suddenly no longer tight. I was almost swaying on my feet. So relaxed, so… calm.

“Like I was saying,” Ben continued. “You’ve been a real upright prick lately. Annoying as fuck when you get home.”

Hmm? Had I been? Huh.

“But now you’re not,” he smiled. “Because you’re my dumb little Sleepy Boy.”

Mmmm, yeah. That sounded nice.

“No stress. No nagging your roommate. Just happy and dumb, knowing that I’m in charge here, right, Sleepy Boy?”

“You’re… in charge….” I mumbled.

“In fact, whenever you come home, your brain just empties right out, doesn’t it, Sleepy Boy?”

Yeah. Just empty. That’s why it was so relaxing to come home. I didn’t have to worry about anything here.

“Whenever you see me, you get happy, and relaxed, because you never have to think anymore.”

So happy to see Ben. Because he’s in charge. So nice that he can think for me.

“And when I’m shirtless, Sleepy Boy, you get excited. Because you like to see me shirtless, don’t you?”

My heart leapt in my chest as I looked at Ben’s hairy pecs. They were… so nice to look at. So meaty, and… I wished I could just stare at them forever.

“Mmmm….” I managed.

“Because you’re whoever I want you be when you’re home, right Sleepy Boy?”

Every time he said those magic words…. it just felt so… right, so, relaxing. My brain feeling like it was being continuously dunked in a warm bath.

“Like, if I want you to be my little Pit Pig, you’ll want to smell my pits, won’t you, Sleepy Boy?”

He raised his arm.

Fuck, I did. I really did.

“Because you know if you smell me, you’ll get even happier and dumber, and more relaxed, won’t you?”

I would. Oh god, if I could just bury my nose in there.

I must have been almost drooling.

“Awww,” cooed Ben. “You’re my dumb little pit bitch, aren’t you? My empty-headed, little scent whore.”

I was.

“You need my smell, don’t you, Sleepy Boy?”

It hit like fire in my chest. God, yes, I needed it. I needed his hot, musky smell deep in my lungs.

“It makes you so dumb, and so horny, doesn’t it, boy?”

My boner twitched in my pants.

“Yes….” I whispered.

Ben gave a cocky half-grin, staring at me.

“Well come get it, Sleepy Boy.”

I practically jumped toward his upraised arm, burying my face in his pit.

Fuck.

As I inhaled, I could feel my whole mind crumble. His manly scent, I just needed-

I inhaled again.

It just washed over everything, no other thoughts, just that-

Ben. Smell.

“Good boy,” Ben said, and I could faintly feel his hand on the back of my head, pulling me in further.

Ben. Inhale. His. Him. Ben, in charge. So happy.

“Good Sleepy Boy.”

So dumb, so empty. Breathe. Fuck, his dumb little pit boy. Breathe, more.

Some part of my brain barely registered Ben as he continued to say… something.

How I wasn’t his roommate anymore, just his stupid little pit whore. How grateful I was to live with him, to be owned by him.

Breathe. Him. His. So lucky.

How I couldn’t hold a thought in my head the second I saw him shirtless. How much I needed his smell, how submissive it made me feel.

Breathe. Full, empty, need.

How horny I’d be when he smiled. How even eye contact would bring me to my knees.

Breathe, so… happy, so…

“Now give me a smile, Sleepy Boy,”

I grinned, stupidly. I was fully collapsed on his massive frame.

There’s was only Ben. His smell. His chest. Breathe.

“That’s the way things are going to be now, Sleepy Boy. Say goodbye to any other thoughts.”

Goodbye.

“Good Sleepy Boy. My dumb little Sleepy Boy.”

Breathe. Yes. Again. His. His. Dumb. His.

Breathe, proof of him, his. Yes.

Dumb. Full. Empty.

Breathe.

Sleepy.

Breathe.

Picture Source: @blueravenwolf

"Hey, did you finish your chores, yet?" Tristan asked his cousin who he let stay with him since he didn't have a place to live.

"Yes, Sir, I have. It's all done." Ronny said as he came back in to the living room. He saw his cousin Tristan with the controller in hand playing a game and his boyriend Nate on his laptop next to him. Tristan agreed to let him stay on one condition. He would have to serve as his and his boyfriend's servant and slave. He started to refuse, but realized he had no where else to go. It was his only option. At least it was a place to stay, he thought to himself when he agreed to those terms.

"Good, you know what to do next then. Start with Nate first." Tristan smirked as he continued to game.

Ronny got on his knees before Nate. He saw Nate give him a degrading smirk and wiggle his toes at him. He started massaging and sniffing his dingy socked feet. There was a raunchy odor coming form them. He could tell that Nate had worn this pair for at least two days already. He felt Nate press the sock against his nose as he sniffed. "Love that rotten cheese down there, boy?" He heard Nate say to him.

The first time Nate said something degrading to him, he complained to his cousin. His cousin then reminded him that he agreed to these terms. His boyfriend owned him jusat as much as he did. There was no getting around it. Ronny saw his reality if he wanted to have a place to stay.

"Yes, Sir." Ronny replied, not really enjoying it that much. But it was what his two masters wanted him to do nearly every day since he had moved in over eight months ago. He heard Nate order him to lick it. He really hated that part. The socks always tasted nasty, yet he obeyed. He began to lick the dingy socks with his musky taste to it.

"Why does your cousin agree to do this every time?" Nate asked his boyfriend.

"He has nowhere else to go, honestly. So, it's his only option if he wants a roof over his head." Tristan replied back, still gaming and not paying any attention to the foot slave at their feet. "Enough of his feet now, get to work on mine, boy." He demanded.

Ronny switched over to his cousin's feet. He started massaging his feet. The good thing was that his socks weren't as smelly as his boyfriend's. Yet, it was still smelly none the less. He started kissing his rank socks as well as sniffing them. It was humiliating and degrading but it provided a place to stay.

Two hours later, Nate put his his laptop down and closed it. Tristan switched the game over to Netflix. Ronny saw Tristian snapped his fingers. He knew exactly what that meant. He pushed the table back some and assumed the position as Nate and Tristan got closer on the couch. He saw both rest their feet and legs on his back without a single thought.

"Stay still and don't move this time." Nate ordered him.

"Hey, neighbour, enjoying the show here?", Mostafa shouted to me.

"Haha, no just having a cup of coffee", we shared the backyard, so I walked from my porch over to him. "It's so early in the morning and you're already working out"

"This body won't build itself," he raised his arm, flexed the bicep and kissed it with a smirk, "You know, you could have a use of some morning exercises too".

"Yeah, maybe"

"I mean, look at you," he poked me in the stomach, "There's some fat, you could lose. Look what a real man's body should look like," he patted his carved abs and laughs.

I looked at his sixpack, covered with some hair and involuntary my gaze followed the happy trail down to his waistband. A bit further down there was an obvious outline of a thick shaft. I quickly looked up and saw Mostafa with a cocky grin.

"You like what you see down there? Bet you're small there too"

I was too shocked to reply something, my face just turned red from embarassment.

"Show me what you've got there," he grabbed the coffee from my hand and took a sip of it.

I stood there frozen, unable to squeeze a word out of me.

"Wasn't I clear enough?" Mostafa made a step to me and grabbed my chin with his thumb and index finger, forcing me to look up into his eyes.

"Fuck, no," I gather all the courage I have and push his hand away, "What are you talking about?" But I seen in his eyes, that he was not going to let me behave like this.

"You wanna do it the hard way, that's fine," he grabbed me at armpits and lifted me into the air. In a swift motion I landed on his shoulder and he turned around carrying me to his house.

“Score any pussy yet?” I inquired, entering his room with a towel around my waist.

“You think I’d still be sitting here?” he snapped back. “Jesus Christ. What does it take for a guy to get his dick wet on a Saturday night?”

“Did you text Marissa?” I asked, sitting on the bed next to him.

“Yeah. Her parents are in town,” he answered, not taking his eyes off his phone screen.

“Fuck. What about Katy?” I suggested as I removed my towel and stretched out naked and face down on his bed.

“Katy’s up at the lake for the weekend,” he groaned, oblivious to me.

“How about Gina?” I offered, grabbing a bottle of lube from his bed table and proceeding to work a greased finger into my hole.

“The bitch is ignoring my texts,” he scoffed. “Man, my balls are gonna pop. I just need to get this dick in a snatch.”

“What about my snatch?” I proposed, raising my ass slightly off the bed.

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed, turning his head, his eyes finally upon me.

I buried my face in his pillow. If this was going to work, he needed to forget it was me, and imagine I was just another one of his easy sluts presenting my cunt to him.

“I can’t believe it’s fuckin’ come to this,” he muttered under his breath as I heard him undoing his belt. Then came the unzipping of his pants. His meaty hands were at the small of my back. His knees were pushing my legs wider. And then—WHAM—he was inside me.

“Fuuuck,” he exhaled, going balls deep in my wet cunt. I could tell he was huge—easily nine inches by the depths he was reaching inside me.

Wordlessly, he began to plank above me, his muscular arms on either side of me. He was brutal in the way he began to pound me with his big dick—a primeval predator conquering his prey.

I wanted to scream and release the waves of pleasure and pain coursing through me. But I was silent, not wanting to break the savage spell that had washed over him. I needed to be silent, soulless—an inanimate vessel in which he could dump his load. It wouldn’t take long.

A deep growl emitted from him, building with each thrust that he delivered. His balls were smacking my ass. His sweat was raining upon my back. And then suddenly—“SHIT” as his cock throbbed and released his load inside me, coating the walls of my cunt.

“Fuck, I needed that,” he announced as he withdrew from me and collapsed on the bed, his thick cum gushing from the cavernous void of my wrecked hole.

His phone buzzed suddenly. “Is that one of your bitches?” I asked, still motionless on the bed.

“Nah. It’s my buddy Dylan,” my roommate answered, reading a text. “He’s trying to get laid tonight, and wants to know if I can hook him up with some pussy.”

“What’d you tell him?” I inquired eagerly.

“I invited Dylan here,” he replied, putting down his phone. “Told him I’ve got a slut on my bed who wants to get tagged all night.”

Logan had just finished the scene. It was the end of the day after a 16 hour day of shooting and most of the crew had been desperate to head out. Most had already left. It was just Logan, the actress he shared the scene with, the director, and a production assistant. When they wrapped up, the actress took her leave. The director said “Alright Logan good work …” he turned to the actress as she left and said “you too… See you both tomorrow morning …” The actress left and the assistant and director and Logan remained. Logan waited patiently, chit chatting with the director and assistant while he waited to be untied.

What he didn’t know was that both the director and his assistant were huge pervs. Pervs who had Logan all to themselves now. And they had no intention of untying him just yet.

The director repeated “good work today Logan …” as he stepped up to the foot of the bed and patted Logan’s bare foot. Logan thought it was an odd but harmless friendly pat and said “thanks. Can’t wait to get out of here and sleep!” He expected the director to just untie the straps around his ankle right then.

But instead the director kneeled down in front of the bed. He started, “sorry Logan we’re not done just yet,” and rested his hand on the top of Logan’s right foot, and then the assistant also kneeled beside the bed near Logan’s feet, and rested his hand on Logan’s left foot. “We are definitely not done yet,” the assistant agreed.

Logan was confused. “What do you guys mean? Do we have to shoot something else?”

“Not quite …” Now Logan was getting nervous. “So what’s the hold up? What do you guys need to tell me?” The director and assistant both looked greedily, hungrily, lustfully at Logan’s tight tied up body … then to Logan’s horror they leaned forward … and started sniffing his feet! What the fuck!

“What are you guys doing?! Why are you sniffing my feet?!” Logan started struggling but couldn’t get out. they didn’t pay attention to him as the perverts pressed their noses against Logan’s helpless bare soles.

The director had purposely left this scene for the very end of the day, after a full day of filming a bunch of outdoor scenes in the hot sun, while Logan was wearing heavy shoes he knew would make Logan’s feet sweat. In fact, it was the director who added the kink scene to the movie in the first place. So Logan’s bare feet really stank, having been in those hot sweaty socks and boots all day. The director and assistant hungrily sniffed poor Logan’s smelly feet as he continued to protest. “Cmon guys what the hell! Stop sniffing my feet! What’s going on? You’ve gotta stop!”

But they didn’t. They sniffed under Logan’s toes, his smelly sweaty soles, huffing on the young actor’s foot stink. “Damn your feet stink good, Logan,” the director said. “His feet really are as smelly as we thought they’d be,” the assistant chimed in between whiffs. “Damn his feet smell good,” the director said after a long hard sniff. All the while Logan struggled to free himself.

Finally, the two perverts blew their loads while sniffing the poor jock actor’s vulnerable feet. Their plan had worked and they’d satisfied themselves on Logan’s foot stink. They finally let him go. But they revealed that they’d recorded the whole thing. They warned him that they’d upload the video to a fetish site of he didn’t let them sniff his feet whenever they wanted!

After that night the director called Logan into his trailer a few times a day between scenes. Each time, Logan knew what he’d be expected to do: present his smelly bare feet for the director and his assistant to sniff. They continued to blackmail Logan into letting them sniff his feet all through post production and screenings, often bringing him up to their hotel rooms to have their way with his feet. They smelled too good to let up!

One night after a premiere screening Logan went up to the directors hotel room and was surprised to see his own agent there. “Alright Logan,” he said. “Time for me to finally find out what those feet of yours smell like.” The director chuckled. “Oh you’re in for a treat. Logan’s feet really stink great. You’ll see for yourself very soon. You’ll be addicted. Plus he’s been on his feet all day and we’ve had him wearing the same socks for a week. Alright Logan, get on the bed so we can get those shoes and socks off you. We’ll let your agent get the first sniff today.”

“Nah. I’m good,” I assured him, grabbing the greasy bag through my window, tossing it onto the passenger seat. “You’re Brax, right? Brax Jennings?”

“Uh—yeah,” he acknowledged quizzically, not recognizing me.

“I’m Dylan—Dylan Parker,” I reminded him. “We went to Central High together.”

“Okay,” Brax shrugged with no apparent recollection of me.

“You don’t remember me?” I prompted. “You fucked me once.”

“Dude. You must be thinking of someone else,” he spat. “I don’t fuck guys.”

“Umm—you fucked me,” I insisted. “You and Curtis Wright and about twelve other guys. You all tagged me in my basement.”

“Jesus,” his eyes got wide. “That was you?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I’m not surprised you don’t recognize my face, since you mostly saw my ass and the back of my head.”

“Right,” Brax laughed awkwardly. “Some crazy shit went down that night.”

Some crazy shit, indeed.

My parents went out of town a week after graduation. Repressed and closeted, I was determined to finally get my ass cherry popped. But how? I had been the only gay guy at my school, a lone wolf with no playmate in sight. But I soon had a plan.

My next door neighbor was Curtis Wright, quarterback of the football team. Curtis and I were hardly friends, but he was at least nice to me. When I offered up my house to Curtis and a few of his football buddies, along with a shitload of beer, Curtis gladly seized the opportunity.

Getting the guys was easy. Procuring the beer was more of a challenge, since I wasn’t yet twenty-one. But with a little ingenuity, I was able to score a free keg at the local beer shop. Ten minutes after closing, the balding, married owner fed me his load in exchange for a keg of Bud. His cum was thick and pungent, but getting that free keg was worth swallowing every last drop of his warm jizz. Everything was going to plan.

That evening, with my parents away for the night, Curtis and twelve of his buds from the football team, including the legendarily hung Brax Jennings, showed up to my house. With an ample supply of beer, and pussy porn playing on my dad’s big screen in the basement, it wasn’t long before they were all drunk. Soon, with their big dicks pulled out, they were jacking to a blonde porn bitch in a cheerleader skirt getting banged by a crowd of hung porn jocks.

Bending over a chair adjacent to the TV, my hole pre-prepped and ready, it was only a matter of minutes before one of the football studs mounted my virgin cunt, grunting his load into me as the other guys watched and cheered ecstatically.

For the next six hours, the hung football studs—guys who would never dare to acknowledge me in school—tagged me over and over, dumping load after load in me. Go big or go home, right?

Brax had the biggest dick in the group, which was no surprise. His conquests were extensive. Girls at school opened their legs for him simply for the bragging rights. His ten-incher was the Mount Everest of Central High—a mountain I climbed five times that crazy night, Brax dumping his load in me each time.

And so, four years later, when I had finished college and moved back home with my parents until I got a job, I made it a priority to get Brax’s ten-inch dick in me once more. When I found out he was working at a fast food place up the street, the chips fell into place.

“How long you worked here?” I asked Brax as he stood awkwardly at my car, in no hurry to get back to work.

“Six months. It’s just a job,” he shrugged. Brax had always been the epitome of the dumb jock at school. All his brains were in his big cock, it was often joked. “College didn’t really work out for me.”

“You wanna hang out some time?” I offered, knowing his answer in advance.

“I dunno, dude,” he evaded predictably. “I’m kinda busy most of the time.”

“You wanna fuck my ass again?”

“What?”

“You heard me. You want to fuck my tight ass again? Get that big cock in me?”

“I don’t—I’m not sure—” he stammered, his cock expanding in his pants, betraying his intentions.

“I tell you what, Brax,” I announced. “I’m going to park here and go inside to use the bathroom. If you want to fuck my ass within the next five minutes, you’ll know where to find me.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled dismissively before turning to go back inside the restaurant.

I followed Brax inside, hanging a right at the pickup counter, and traversing the long hallway to the men’s room. It was a single occupancy bathroom, thankfully. I wasn’t in there thirty seconds before Brax barged inside.

“We gotta make this quick,” he barked, securing the latch on the door. “I could get my ass fired for this.”

Dropping my pants and bending over the sink, my ass pre-prepped and ready like before, I presented my pink, puckered hole to Brax. “Shove it in me,” I commanded, knowing time was of the essence.

“I can’t believe I’m fuckin’ doing this again,” he mumbled under his breath, unzipping his pants, pulling out that ten-incher. His meaty hands were at my hips and then—BAM—Brax was inside me.

His hands moving to my shoulders, Brax began his assault on my hole, pounding the living shit out of me. My hands gripped the sink, his big cock routing my depths, stretching my hole to the max.

“You take a lot of dick in college?” Brax asked, his balls smacking my ass.

“Yeah,” I exhaled, barely able to speak, my mind flooded with memories of the many fraternity parties in which, locked away in some remote room, I took cock after cock—frat guys breeding me over and over. “Yeah—I guess you could say I was a bit of a slut.”

“That’s fuckin’ hot,” Brax approved, smacking my ass. “I love a slutty bitch.”

This slutty bitch was loving him—more specifically, his huge ten-incher. Jesus, it felt good inside me, my eyes rolling back into my head as Brax pummeled me.

“I’m getting close,” he barked urgently. I tightened my sphincter, gripping him from within, milking him. “FUCK—Oh SHIT—Here it comes.”

A shock wave pulsed through my depths, an orgasm so intense that Brax shoved me forward, my head hitting the mirror over the sink. But I didn’t care. I was too busy relishing the feeling of his cum inside me once more, grinding my ass on him as his balls emptied in my void.

“I gotta get back to work,” he announced abruptly, pulling out of me, his load escaping my gaping hole and splatting onto the nasty bathroom tile.

I went back the next day, but this time I didn’t bother placing an order. Brax caught my eye as soon as I walked in the door. Five minutes later, he pounded another load into me as I gripped the bathroom sink. And so our daily fucks in the restaurant bathroom commenced. Brax never turning me away, always eager to dump a load in me.

It was over an order of curly fries, during his lunch break one day, that Brax confessed why he was always so eager to fuck me. It turned out having a big dick was no longer enough to score pussy. Girls our age wanted more than bragging rights—they wanted flowers, jewelry, expensive dinners. On Brax’s meager paycheck, he couldn’t afford any of that. Thus, his right hand became his only partner for sex—until my hole became available to him.

We had a good thing in that bathroom every afternoon, but all good things must come to an end. Brax was balls deep in me one day, at the precipice of orgasm, when his manager walked in on us. Brax had forgotten to latch the door. Startled at being caught, Brax pulled out of me just as he was cumming, his pearly load spraying my ass and the floor. Brax was fired immediately, grateful the manager didn’t press charges for public indecency.

Things only got worse for Brax. His parents, tired of supporting his lazy ass when he couldn’t keep a job, gave him a week to move out. When he texted me, wanting to meet behind the bowling alley to fuck me in my car, I gave Brax the good news.

I had gotten a job and no longer needed to live with my parents, having signed a lease for an apartment that morning. The place was a one bedroom, but Brax was welcome to share my bed—provided he was willing to drain his balls in my ass on a regular basis. It was an offer he couldn’t refuse.

So Brax now lives with me. I’m not going to pretend that he’s my boyfriend—it’s nothing like that. Brax is more like a living, breathing, life-size, fuck doll with a ten-inch cock who drinks all my beer and never remembers to lower the toilet seat. But it’s a small price to pay for living with an enormously hung himbo who pounds my eager ass with his big cock as often as I want.