Caught Me Tied Up 02

Everyone is 18 and fully consenting.

Chapter 2: Roommate Situation

The next morning, we both acted like literally nothing had happened. Connor  rolled out of bed and stretched. I looked at his crotch and saw his morning wood through his underwear. My mind flashed back to him fucking me while I was bound. He just looked at me and asked if I’d eaten yet, snapping me out of it.

"No," I said, "Does it look like I did?" I gestured to my body still under the covers, not even having gotten up yet.

"Shut up," he said and laughed.

We headed out to grab breakfast like it was any other day on campus. The whole walk there my feelings were incomprehensible. I kept replaying flashes in my head, but he didn’t give any sign that he was thinking about it too. We talked about assignments, sports scores, the rain that was coming, anything except the obvious. Every laugh and every mundane word made it easier to pretend it had never happened, and by the time we got back to the dorm, it almost felt like we’d convinced ourselves it was just another day. Almost.

Stella came over that afternoon while Connor was out, and the second she walked in, the energy was obviously heightened. She was practically glowing, and before we even said hi to each other, she was on me. The idea that I had actually been fucked by my roommate had her so turned on she didn’t hold back. She fucked my ass with thick toys, and she even let me cum over and over, dragging every drop out of me like it was my birthday or something. My ass was raw in the best way, every nerve inside me lit up, and she every part of her body to pleasure every part of me. My nipples were red and raw by the time she was done draining me, and I was in what I could only call sub boy heaven. Zombied out on pure pleasure.

For the next couple days, everything felt right. Connor and I never talked about what happened, and I walked around with a sort of smugness, like it was kind of badass in a way that I had taken a big dick. I was proud of it. I found myself replaying it all in my head every time Stella played with my body.

But a couple days later, out of nowhere, she didn’t text me. Not a single word. I kept telling myself not to overthink it, but it was impossible not to notice. It wasn’t like her, and the gap in communication gave me a visceral reaction. I felt a ball of lead in my stomach. By nightfall, I was checking my phone every few minutes, waiting for something that wasn't coming.

When Connor came back that night, something about him felt off. He was moving around the room like he didn’t want to look at me, keeping his eyes on his phone or his desk. There was a tension in the air that made my chest tighten, but he wasn’t giving anything away. I had a feeling it had something to do with Stella, but I didn't want to admit it was a possibility. I caught little flashes of irritability when I would walk by him, like I was in his way or something, or like something was gnawing at him, but I couldn’t tell if it had anything to do with me. I decided not to push it. I had a stack of schoolwork to get through anyway, and with no word from Stella all day, I figured she wasn’t coming over. I threw myself into my laptop, trying to lose focus in assignments, pretending not to notice anything was off.

Then my phone buzzed.

A text from Stella: “Hey cuck.”

I stared at it, confused, and shot back a question mark reaction. Seconds later another message came through, this time a photo. It was taken from her POV, looking down her body. Connor was on top of her, balls deep inside her in missionary, his face and chest right there in the frame. It was clearly her, as I would recognize those tits and that flat stomach anywhere.

My stomach dropped so fast it felt like a physical hit. That was my Stella. My girlfriend. Seeing it spelled out in pixels knocked the air out of me.

I turned toward Connor. He was sprawled out face down on his bed in nothing but his underwear, scrolling on his phone. I knew why he was being closed off now. I stood there for a second, watching him, and my pulse picked up. When I stepped closer, he glanced up at me, his expression tightening into mild annoyance, like I’d just interrupted whatever he was reading. But then his eyes locked on mine, and the seriousness in my face must have registered, because the annoyance faded. His whole posture shifted, his shoulders easing as his head tilted slightly. He just looked at me, quiet, as if he already knew what I had seen and didn’t need to pretend otherwise.

"Dude..." I said. I couldn't find the words.

He just stared at me for a long second, then leaned back on his bed and half-smirked. “If it would make you feel better, I’d fuck you too.”

My brow furrowed. I wasn't sure if I was going to freak out or what, but my brain froze, caught between shock and a sudden tingling heat crawling up my neck. I didn’t even know how to respond. Then, slowly, the thought started to make sense in a taboo, fucked up way.

He pulled down his boxer briefs and hooked them under his balls. There was that fat hog again. I thought about how much I had liked it. And, if it's obviously ok with Stella... The thought spun in my head.

I opened my mouth, still not fully convinced. I calmed down as I stared at the man meat in front of me. I had lost my sense of aggression, quickly subdued by his superiority in manhood.

A shrug was all I managed, before he cut me off by standing up like my half-answer was all he needed. In one smooth move, he was in front of me, scooping me up like I weighed nothing. It was a strange sensation being carried like that, but it was oddly comforting. The next thing I knew, I was on my back on my bed, the air knocked out of me from the toss.

Before I could process, my legs were lifted high, and I reached down to pull my shorts enough to expose my ass. 

His spit quickly landed warm on my hole. He reached straight for the lube in my desk drawer, the same place it was last time. His shorts hit the floor, and suddenly all I could see was the sheer size of him, the thickness of his cock, the heavy swing of his balls, and the thick muscle of his thighs closing in, until he pushed into me quickly.

He started rocking into me without even warming me up, and he talked the whole time. He laid out every detail of how they had been sneaking around, where they met while I was in class, what she did for him, what he did to her. Each new admission landed like a punch and a pull at the same time, twisting something deep in me. I hated hearing it, but my body didn’t match my head. I was getting harder with every sentence, my hand moving faster without me even thinking about it, each filthy detail making me throb more. It was so weirdly hot knowing exactly what she’d felt from him, and that he was giving me that same thing right now.

His hand found my jaw, pushing two fingers deep into my mouth, holding them there until I met his eyes. "Lick her pussy juice off me," he said between breaths. I tasted her immediately, faint but undeniable, and it made my chest feel like it was caving in. The sting of betrayal was still there, but it didn't hurt so bad while he was pleasuring me at the same time. I had to admit to myself that I had wanted this since the first time he banged me when he walked in on me tied up and naked.

I hated that it felt almost logical now. She’d had him, I’d had him, and maybe that meant the score was settled in some twisted way. I massaged his fingers with my tongue, and felt him fill me up as he started to slap his body against me harder, and I felt the last bit of fight drain out of me. Somewhere between the salt of her and the weight of him pressing down on my bent body, I made my peace with everything. Whatever this was turning into, I was into it.

He finished inside me, and this time I wasn’t even tied up. There was no excuse to hide behind, no way to frame it like I had just gone along with it because I was bound. This was me choosing to stay there, choosing to take it, and liking it a lot. I felt the warmth spilling out of me and reached down, touching the slimy mess as it slid down my thighs. The urge to taste it hit fast and hard, and I gave in, bringing my fingers to my mouth. The taste was intense, nothing like pre-cum. Pungent. Heavy and musky. It made my heart pound. He caught me mid-lick, eyebrows pulling together with a half-grimace.

“That’s gay as hell,” he said, his tone almost teasing. I let out a short laugh anyway, because the truth was, I didn’t care.

Stella texted me late that night just to remind me that I was her cuck now. She didn’t explain exactly what it meant, but it was clear that stuff like this would keep happening.

This is the new form of being straight.