Slave Boy James

Downfall of an alpha, chapter one: the past catching up

I'm still good. I'm still a good boyfriend. Jake endlessly tried to convince himself as he stared off into the distance from his front yard, lost in his own bubble. I am a good guy. This is the last time, I swear. I'm only doing it because I have needs. Molly's going away for a whole weekend, so I'm sure she'd understand. This is the last time, I promise. 

He was a good guy. At least that's what Jake would have everyone, including himself, believe without a doubt. Sure, he wasn't perfect. He made mistakes just like everyone else, but he was doing the best he could, which has got a count for something, right? 

A good guy and a fucking great boyfriend. 

Jake exhaled a sigh of relief as he stood on the grass, basking in the afternoon light. Finally, things were starting to feel normal again, like he wasn't constantly being watched or he didn't have to continually look over his shoulder anymore. It only took six months, but Jake was beginning to feel safe. Moving into the country, ditching his home time, and leaving his old life behind really did do the trick

"I'm ready, babe," came a sweet, soft-as-silk voice that made Jake let out a seductive whistle as he spun around and admired his baby girl.

Molly Parker stepped out the front door with a suitcase in hand, looking as pretty as ever. Molly's natural beauty, glowing eyes and dark brown, glistening hair always took Jake's breath away whenever he stared at her for long enough. As a result, he always felt an overwhelming amount of happiness and the tiniest stab of guilt. 

Fuck me. Am I the luckiest guy in the world, or what? This wouldn't have even been possible without you. The moment Molly returns from her trip, I will be the man she deserves. No more secrets.

 Molly didn't even have to lift a finger. As soon as Jake got his sightseeing fix for the day, he rushed over to his girl, picked up the large suitcase and placed it in the back of Molly's pink car.

"I'm gone for the whole weekend, you know," Molly said in her subtle, southern accent that made everything she said so goddamn sexy, brushing her small fair hands through Jake\'s blonde mop of hair. "Don't miss me too much, darling.'

"Sorry, who are you again?" Jake teased. He couldn't resist.

"Asshole."

"Of course, I'm gonna miss you, babe. I mean, someone's gotta appreciate the sexiest handyman that ever lived, after all."

"Gosh, Jake. You're so immature," Jake could listen to that voice for hours. He could never tell if she was mocking, complimenting or insulting him. "I often forget that I live with a big, dumb idiot."

"That may be true, but I'm not just any big, dumb idiot. I'm YOUR big, dumb idiot."

"Mm-hm."

This was how it always was between the two of them. They joked, and they took shots at each other; slut, bitch, moron, doofus. But it always ended the same way, boy and girl bursting into a fit of laughter, staring at each other so passionately, so intensely--having a whole conversation without any words. 

"Oh, Jakey," Molly said to her perfect boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his hunky chest. "I know I thought this was insane at first, but I'm so glad we did this. Moving into this house was the best thing we ever did."

Molly was happy. She was on cloud nine, and that's all Jake wanted. She never really talked about the move anymore, despite there still being many unanswered questions; What was the rush? Why drop everything and everyone? They're only 22/23, so why couldn't they wait a few months or even a couple of years before taking such a giant plunge and moving to the country, just the two of them? Jake wouldn't talk about their life before as if he genuinely believed he could sweep his past under the rug and pretend like it never existed. Over the months, Molly slowly, albeit reluctantly, began to accept that they would never talk about it. Still, the sudden, drastic move left this huge question mark in her mind. 

It was just so random. That's what always played on Molly's mind. That day was already insane, and when she came home after a long and tiring day's work, she found her boyfriend had practically moved them both out. It was clear something had happened, and something had indeed happened. 

Callum, Mike, Nick, probably the closest thing to family Jake had ever known. The four boys were inseparable, basically like brothers—the manly, macho college jocks who always had each other's back and did everything together. Molly barely saw her boyfriend most weekends as he insisted on going around Cal's house and having some good old bro time. They were the tightest of buds.

When you find out the people closest to you are not who they say they are, it can be devastating, making you make rash delicious, And that's precisely what happened to Jake. On what should've been a quiet, sunny afternoon, Jake's three best friends in the whole wide world had been arrested and charged with multiple accounts of rape and assault, being dragged out of their homes in handcuffs and shoved into the back of police cars. From that day forward, the three muscular jock boys were labelled as criminal scum.

But not Jakey. Jakey was different. Jakey was innocent. She didn't know how she knew, but Molly just knew that Jake had nothing to do with that fucked-up shit. He was too sweet and gentle and loving and kind. Besides, apparently, they only exclusively raped guys, so it didn't make any practical sense for someone like Jake to be involved.

Molly knew that Jake would be suffering. His mind would be wandering to deep, dark places, wondering how the hell the people he was so close to be these inhuman monsters. Jack would be suffering on his own, so she rushed straight home. She was going to be there for him and support him every step of the way. They would survive this.

When Molly entered the house, it was like a bomb or a tornado had gone off inside it. Dresses, shirts, shoes, pants, jockstraps, and everything else were scattered and tossed carelessly around the living room. Molly's first thought was that thugs had broken into the house, but that thought was quickly shut down when she noticed that, in the centre of the room, four or five briefcases were hanging on the sofa, packed with clothes and bathroom essentials.

"Yo, Molly. Perfect time," Jake appeared, rushing down the stairs in a frantic, hectic rush, not even looking Molly in the eye as he carried down a big, uneven stack of socks and jeans, which he threw in an overflowing suitcase. "I kinda suck at this, so go ahead and double-check everything. Make sure I've got everything we need."

"Huh? Everything for what? Jake, what are you doing? Why are you packing?" But Jake didn't answer at first. He didn't hear. He was too busy muttering to himself, shaking nervously like a dog and picking up all the clothes on the floor to notice his girlfriend. It took Molly three times shouting his name for her boyfriend to eventually acknowledge her.

"Look, Molly. We really don't have time for this. I assume you've seen the news, right? What Cal and those guys did, yeah? It's horrible, and people actually believe I have something to do with it. No, no fucking way. We can't stay here. My name is burned, but don't worry, babe. I've got a plan."

Jake's plan was a simple yet effective one. Simply skip town. Leave all this shit behind them and start afresh. Jake had the perfect place. Well, Molly technically did. Molly's favourite grandmother, god rest her soul, had recently passed away and decided to leave her house to her favourite granddaughter. Nice place with two bedrooms, a good, quiet, peaceful location, deep in the country, and ample space, but the house was ancient. It was definitely a fixer-upper. Jake never showed any interest in it when she bought it up before, but for whatever reason living in that old house, deep in the middle of nowhere, was Jake's Master plan. However, Molly wasn't buying it. Jake's justification for leaving was because of his friend's rape scandal. He insisted he had nothing to do with it, and she genuinely believed him, so she wasn't ready to abandon everything she's worked for just because a couple of loudmouth bitches wanted to accuse her sweet boyfriend of such a heinous crime. That was when Jake gave the performance of his life. 

"Molly, I've always admired you. You're so fucking strong. That's one of the many, many things I love about you. You don't take shit from anybody. You don't let what other people say get to you. You're honestly incredible. Me? Not so much. I'm not strong. I'm pathetic. My problem is I let things get to me. I almost passed out when I read the news this morning and saw what my so-called friends have been up to behind my back. I never felt more betrayed. To think my best friends were capable of such an unforgivable crime makes my skin crawl every time I think about it. Well, they're not my friends anymore. I want nothing to do with them. They're dead to me. But that's not enough. Molly, people in this town don't see me for me. All they see is the big, blonde, popular jock who hangs out with his raping bros and does whatever the fuck he wants. I mean, have you seen my Twitter? It's already filled with tons of hateful death threats and comments saying how they hate my guts. People literally want me to burn for a crime I did not commit. People are rioting for either my arrest Or death, which is why I can't stay. But Molly...I, I want you to come with me. I need you. I love you. I don't want this shit to be the thing that breaks us. I want us to build the family we always dreamed of. And this...this is our chance to make it happen. I know this is a huge and drastic jump, and I know change is scary, but there's no one in this world with whom I'd rather do this with. You inherited that house in the country, right? What's stopping us? What's stopping us from taking the plunge and making our dreams a reality? I can't predict the future, Molly, but I can promise you this: if you do this with me, I will spend every day trying to make myself a man deserving of your love. So, Molly, what do you say? Wanna take this chance with me?"

After that heart-warming speech, Molly was drowning in her tears. How could she refuse him after that Masterpiece? He needed her now more than ever. She'd be as sinister as the devil if she abandoned him. Sure, moving into a completely new place when you're still so incredibly young was filled with numerous risks, and yes, to turn that old, shabby, neglected house into a decent, modern-day home would take a hell of a lot of work, but Molly knew that she and Jake could and would make it work. As long as they have each other, they can do anything. 

"So, I'm going to be away for the whole weekend, Jakey,"  Molly said, giving her boyfriend a long, loving hug before getting into the driver's seat of her pink car. "What do you plan on doing while your gal is away."

"Hmmm..." Jake pondered for a few moments, leaving Molly to guess what devious scheme he was plotting. "You know, I was thinking about doing fuck all, but seeing as it's you, I'm gonna go ahead and make you proud. As soon as you leave, I'm gonna go straight to the hardware store, pick up a few bits and work on the shelf for the living room you keep going on about."

"Good boy. You do a good job, and I may have to reward you."

"If that's the case, be prepared. You know me. I always get what I want. Anyways, you should probably go while the sun's up. Tell your mum I said hey, and sorry I couldn't make it."

"Will do. Love you."

"Love you, too

Jake never took his eyes off Molly's pink car as it drove down the road. His foot constantly, nervously tapping his foot against the front porch until she was out of sight. Once satisfied he was alone, Jake busted into his house as if he was the flash, running into the kitchen to grab hold of his keys and dash straight to his car, not bothering to look and admire and appreciate the four walls he claims to love with a fiery passion. There was just too much on his mind.

Jake's urges were calling him. 

I'm serious. This is the last time, I swear. Fuck, I hate that I'm doing this, but after this, I'm done. It's over. Never again. 

Jake did technically keep his word. The second Molly had left for her parent's house, Jake rushed in his car and headed to the outskirts of town to a nice, quiet hardware store. This would actually be his second visit of the day, but the funny thing was, this would be the second time he wouldn't make a purchase. In all fairness, Jake did intend to buy a tool on his first visit, but after a conversation with one of the young employees, it slipped his mind.

See, for better or for worse. Jake has been a regular visitor to the hardware store since they moved here. For the first few months, it was genuine, Jake honestly did want to better himself, be a better boyfriend and turn that inherited building into a house Molly could call home, but lately, these frequent visits only served as an excuse. An excuse to divert back to old habits. Jake hated himself for giving in to his urges, but he couldn't deny them. It turns out you can't run from who you really are, and when Jake discovered there was a  roadside truck stop rest area constantly filled with strangers, young male hitchhikers and men, who just needed a quick and discreet way to get their rocks off, Jake couldn't resist. Again, Jake despised that he was doing it, but that never stopped him from undoing his jeans, grunting in relief as his big, meaty boner sprung from his parts and barking at some kneeling hitchhiker to service him.

'Suck my cock, bitch-boy fag.'

Old habits are just so hard to break sometimes.

Jake couldn't pinpoint the exact reason why he loved it so much, but to him, there was nothing quite so satisfying as ordering a stupid pathetic, cock-craving fag to get on his knees and get to work, skullfuck a fag so that he hears them endlessly choke and gurgle on his dick until they're on the verge of passing out or relentlessly pounding some tight fag pussy, balls deep, in the woods. Not even having passionate sex with sweet, sexy Molly made him feel so good. Why did he feel like this? Why did abusing boys he deemed inferior turn him on so much? Jake didn't know. All he knew was that an exhilarating thrill or an insane rush of power flowed through his veins whenever he was using a faggot fuck-hole, willing or not. 

When Jake arrived at the hardware store, the sunlight had vanished, and the tall woodland trees began to glow with the moonlight. He parked his car by the lake, put his keys in his back pocket and Bolted for the hardware store. If this were going to be the last time, Jake would make it one to remember. He was finally going to put a cock-tease to work.

Again, Jake visited the store earlier, but a particular employee persuaded Jake to return later. Benji, a hardworking, honest, ginger, good-looking employee who was the living embodiment of 'service with a smile'. It didn't take long for Jake to clock on to the fact that Benji is a bit overly friendly when it comes to the guy customers and has even caught Benji, once or twice, checking out his boner bulge from afar. Not that Jake minded. He enjoyed knowing his body was torturing yet another thirsty fag, tormenting him with what will never be his. Nothing had happened between them, and they hadn't really spoken much until Benji approached the straight jock browsing the aisles. 

"Hey there, sir...Jake, right?" Benji somewhat nervously said, as if Jake was the next Tom Hanks. "Do you need help? Can I help you find what you're looking for?"

"Oh, er, um, right," the urge to just ignore the desperate fag boy was definitely there, but Jake figured it best to remain polite for now. Besides, it's always a turn-on when a boy knows his superiors. "Na, I think I got it. I've gotta build some shelves or something. My girlfriend's going out of town for the weekend, and if I don't do something productive, she'll get all up in my grill, and I can't be bothered with that, you know."

"Wait, your girlfriend...she's out of town? For the whole weekend?"

"Yeah, dude."

"Does that...does that mean you'll be at the truck stop later...?" Benji asked in a hushed, excited tone.

"Wait...what? How do you...how do you know about that place?" Jake was so close to allowing his anger to control him. If they weren't in a public store where anyone could walk in at any moment, Benji would most certainly be on his knees while Jake's massive fuck-stick harshly smacked against his face. Instead, Jake wore a deadly look. He thought the stupid faggot was about to try something stupid and attempt to blackmail him, so it came as a surprise when Benji cracked a smile and let out an innocent yet playful chuckle.

"Sorry, Jake, sir. I wasn't spying on you. It's just...well...every gay guy from here knows what that truck stop is mainly used for. It's the go-to place for men like you to blow off some steam and for boys like us to practice our cock slobbering skills. I only ask about you because I have a few friends that go down there a lot, and you're practically a living legend. Apparently, you've got the most massive, most juiciest cock dog around that is a must-try, and I definitely wanna try it. I don't get to go down to the truck stop that much, but the second my shift ends, I'm heading straight down there to have some slutty fun. I'm not saying you have to, but I'd love to feel a real man's dick deep inside me. If you cum, I'd work so damn hard to please you...so fucking hard."

After hearing that convincing speech, Jake's mind was made up. He never paid much attention to Benji, but the straight boy knew a good fuck when he saw it, and one look at the ginger buck told Jake he was a great fuck. 

When Jake arrived at the rest area, he was instantly greeted by the sound of grunts and groans, wet-sounding sucks and slurps coming from all directions.

Fuck me. This place is insane. I still don't get how such a place can even exist. These men...these stupid, dumb faggots...they don't even try to hide what they're doing...like sucking on a man's dick is their livelihood or something...it's pathetic...

It was impossible to escape the sight. Everywhere you looked, grown-ass men were proudly, triumphantly standing as confident as ever, and beneath them were kneeling, submissive queer boys doing what pathetic faggot-bitches like them do best. Flys were undone, the potent scent of ball sweat and musk filled the evening air like smoke, and young throats were soon impaled by cock snakes of all sizes. The sight of cock meat being sucked and slobbered on, alone, was enough to make Jake's dick stir in his pants. He was more than ready to dive straight in, but there was only one fuck-hole on the straight boy's mind.

Unfortunately for Jake, the ginger-haired faggot was nowhere to be found.

Fucking pussy-ass faggot cunt. Too scared to handle a real man. 

It was annoying, but it wasn't the end of the world. The rest area was pretty crowded tonight, so there'd be plenty of holes to stick his cock into. But before that, Jake opted to get pissing before he started drilling. When he entered the grimy restroom, filled with grimy urinals, he saw what he was looking for, and it made his dick twitch.

"Hehe...I fucking knew it...knew you were nothing but a basic boy-bitch, Benji." Jake couldn't help but scoff mockingly at what was before him. He found Benji, in a vulgar bathroom of all places, but he wasn't alone. The young boy was obediently on his knees in front of some bearded redneck trucker, who Jake could've sworn was a regular customer at the hardware store, and Benji's mouth and lips were eagerly slobbering on that swollen prick 

Predictable and pathetic.

"Hfffmmm eeeiiirrr..." Benji greeted with the trucker's dick still in his mouth.

"Hehe, I can see you got your mouth full, bitch. I'll come back later for the fuck you so desperately need."

"Nonsense, boy. There's no need to leave. Come join me," the man urged before Jake could turn around. "The bitch has two holes, doesn't he? And believe me. You don't wanna wait. This one was built for cock, let me tell ya."

The trucker didn't give Jake a chance to respond. Instead, he immediately pulled Benji's pants down to his ankles, exposing his hairless buttcheeks, almost looking like the body of a naked mole rat, and to position himself on all fours, doggie-style, exposing that smooth, tight hole. Typically, Jake's heterosexual, close-minded mind would question and scrutinise the offer to fuck a bitch alongside a random, ugly-ass queer, but Benji's quivering, squirming ass crevice just looked warm, friendly and inviting. A hole that seemed so unbelievably tight that it made Jake wonder if he could even stick two fingers up that chute. It didn't take long for Jake to reach a decision. One look, and he was hooked. Jake didn't just want. He needed to get a taste of that hungry, hungry hole that was built for a real man's cock like his. 

'"You need a good long fuck, don't you, bitch-boy? I'm going to give you exactly what you need," Jake's boner bulge was piercing through his jeans as he circled tonight's prey. The choking squelches his throat made while drooling on the trucker's dick bone and the constant needy moan Benji made turned Jake on so fucking much. His horniness consumed him. He was ready. This final fuck was going to go down in history.

Unfortunately, Jake didn't get to experience Benji's magnificent cunt.

Jake was too engrossed in the enticing cocksucker, down on his knees, to notice that a man had been behind him the whole time, lurking, observing in the shadows, waiting for the right time to pounce. Now was that time. The straight boy had no idea he had walked into a trap until a pair of beefy, muscular arms tightly wrapped around Jake's throat, suddenly smothering a chloroform-soaked rag up to his nose.

"MmmmMMMfFfFFPPHHHMMM!!!" Jake screamed, fought and struggled with everything he had, but the more he inhaled that foul, clinical-smelling cloth, the weaker and sleepier he became. And while Jake was screaming through the rag; while he was fighting a losing battle; while he struggled to stay conscious, Beni never once intervened or looked in Jake's direction. Instead, he happily gulped and slurped on the twitching fuck-tool that stabbed the back of his throat, occasionally letting out, ' mn-hm...smells delicious', moans blocking Jake's cries for help.

Jake's vision was distorted. His mind had all but shut down. The last thing Jake heard before falling into his drugged slumber was the fat trucker letting out jolly, jeering laughter in between grunts of ecstasy as he shot his load deep down Benji's throat.

"Hehehe...great work, everyone...caught ourselves another one..."

(This is a story based on a roleplay I’m doing with the super talented @Masterbinder it is so freaking hot that I just had to try and make a story out of it. Hope you all enjoy.)

All chapters: https://slaveboyjg.bdsmlr.com/post/588431397