A Deal's a Deal! Vol. 01: Capture

A Deal

's a Deal!

A series of short stories

Part 1: Capture

Foreword

This is my first attempt to turn years of notes and scribbles into a cohesive story with a narrative. It is intended to be three parts.

I had planned to release all three parts at the same time, but I soon learned how much effort goes into creative writing and decided to release part one and follow on with the rest, once I have time to work on it.

I was unable to find an editor and there may be some grammatical errors in the story. I apologise, and I hope you manage to enjoy the story anyway. If you feel willing to offer advice on this then please send me a DM.

Special thanks to CalMaple and KenjiSato for their help to get this story written.

Abstract

This is part of a series of erotic short stories featuring two men. This is written in the second person, so it's a story where you are one of the two men.

The story finds you as a young heterosexual man in college, and through playful mischief, you find yourself on an erotic journey with an unlikely partner. This will be written in the past tense.

This first part describes the events leading to the protagonist performing a sexual act on his gay friend and the unusual dynamic leading to its continuance. It also covers the disappearance of feelings of revulsion from the protagonist, and the antagonist trying to remain ethical when placed in an unexpected position of power.

Despite the thoughts of resistance, reluctance or denial, the experiences are all consensual.

Characters

There are only two main characters.

You

A college student staying in a dorm with several other students, you are (initially) a heterosexual man who enjoys wrestling, working out at the gym and playing video games. You have a girlfriend named Claire, who also stays in the dormitory.

John

A little taller than you, but somewhat overweight; John is mischievous, but a well-meaning person, who also stays in your dorm. When the story begins, you and John have known each other for some time, and generally enjoy one another's company. You have spent time drinking, playing video games, and playing pranks on one another.

John presents himself as a typical college guy, and you have respect for John, since he was also athletic before becoming injured and gaining weight. John is gay, but it's not something he broadcasts, and generally, only mentions when asked about it.

John has blue eyes and black hair, and typically wears denim jeans and a T-shirt. He has a loud laugh and a bright smile; a devious smile that sometimes gives away an upcoming prank.

Humble Beginnings

You stared coldly at John. You could almost feel the desperation emanating from him. He sat with his shoulders sunk, staring back at you. You checked your own cards for the first time, and thought 'oh my,' but kept your face blank.

John was not having a good night; he never did though, and you found yourself feeling slightly guilty. He probably only came for the social aspect of the evening.

John went another fifty dollars down; fortunately, going fifty dollars down to you wasn't the worst outcome, since you were friends.

The game finished up and you and John sat drinking a beer. It was Claire's birthday later in the week, and John revealed that he couldn't afford to go out. You, sensing an opportunity, offered to forgive John's debt, but only if he arrived at Claire's birthday in drag, without telling anyone.

"Are you fucking serious, dude?" John replied, laughing and somewhat relieved. You confirmed your demand and laughed at John's predicament. This was the latest in an ever-escalating series of pranks between you and John.

"A deal's a deal, then," John said, offering a handshake.

Which you received, and mockingly replied, "A pleasure doing business with you."

Later in the week, you were waiting at the bar, gleefully awaiting John's humiliation when he finally walked in. He had gone the distance — miniskirt, stuffed bra, wig, makeup, and high-heeled wedges. The whole bar turned around and laughed, you could barely control yourself, when John arrived next to you at the bar.

His clown-like made up face uttered, "Okay... are you satisfied now? I'm changing."

To which you replied, "Nuh-uh. We never agreed on how long you had to wear it. A deal's a deal."

For the entire night, John was the butt of every joke; you felt a little guilty. Your prank had gone a little too far and a few times, you saw John without his signature smile.

"All right, that's enough," you said cheerfully, slapping a hand onto John's back. "Head back, and get changed."

John turned to you, smiling, before his signature mischievous grin appeared on his face. "I can't go back on my deal, we'll need another bet," he said, before feigning thoughtfulness, and continued. "If you can beat me in a best of three at wrestling, then I'll give you fifty dollars, but if I win, then..."

Clearly, John had intended, or assumed, he would lose because he hadn't thought about what he would like to win.

"Ahhh, lick my balls," John continued abruptly, causing you both to erupt in laughter.

The next day, John summoned you to the common room, which was empty, aside from some basic furniture and a television. As usual, a giant bag impacted you almost as soon as you entered the room, almost sending you back out the door. You laughed and threw the bag to one side, as John, who was clearly ready for action, said, "Right... Best of three, loser has to forfeit."

You began to laugh immediately, and said, "John, buddy, I have wrestled for years, wouldn't it be easier to just hand that over?" whilst gesturing to the fifty dollars on the table. It seemed fairly obvious that John had accepted the outcome in advance.

"You pussying out?" John said, mockingly.

"Fine, I just hope I don't hurt him, actually," you thought to yourself, suddenly realising you're wrestling in a room with wooden furniture. You were a little hungover, but John wasn't exactly Brock Lesnar.

John took off his hoodie; it was the kind without a zip on the front and you shook your head and let out a barely audible laugh, as John inadvertently exposed the bottom of his belly. John, then removed his shoes, leaving him wearing a T-shirt and jeans. You thought the jeans should make the job a little easier, the strong material making for a good grip.

You were only wearing gym shorts, having removed your T-shirt to avoid it being damaged during the bout.

The first round went as you expected, you pinned John on his back with relative ease. He fell over like an upside-down bowling pin.

The second round appeared to be going slower as expected, until John used his bulk to bullrush you, causing you both to trip over a chair.

"Oh sh— are you okay?" John asked, with a genuine look of concern. He had landed on top of you, and knocked the wind out of your lungs.

You gave a thumbs up with a smile, and wheezed, "Guess that one's yours!" causing John to laugh and look relieved.

A creeping dread began to overcome you as you realised you were in a one-one tie in a best of three, and another mishap would mean you face a rather unpleasant forfeit.

The third round began, with both you and John being somewhat more cautious. John, being significantly heavier, didn't want the silly bet to end in injury. Humiliation was a good outcome, but a wheelchair would not have been.

You realising losing was a possibility, started fearing that your tongue may actually touch John's ballsack. A wheelchair may have seemed a somewhat comparable outcome for you.

As luck would have it, you would have plenty of time to think about the outcome. John had pressed your back against the wall, and given the weight difference you were essentially stuck there. John was laughing hysterically at this point, his shoulder pressed against your sternum, keeping you stuck to the wall. Neither of you were going anywhere.

John stopped laughing and paused momentarily, before dropping to his knees and then lifting you clear of the ground. Your heart thumped for a moment, and you wondered if John was about to suplex you onto a wooden floor?

Your fears subsided, well sort of.

You no longer feared being suplexed, but John had rotated you a full ninety degrees and you were now pinned against the wall horizontally. You had managed to put a hand on the floor to stop John pinning you; however, this resulted in John rotating you a further ninety degrees. You found yourself upside down, pinned to a wall with John's crotch pressed against your cheek. It seemed that you were facing the inevitable now.

Your heart sank and you dreaded what he had in store...

You lay on the floor, listening to John laughing hysterically. Unfortunately, you landed in a North-South pin (also known as a sixty-nine), so you were listening to John laughing whilst, his crotch was resting on your cheek. Somehow, John's crotch felt warmer than the rest of his body, and it radiated into your cheek.

"Oh my god," John said, chuckling, as he got to his feet. He offered you a hand, which you took, and he pulled you to your feet.

"I'm not sure that was tournament legal!" you laughed, as you protested.

"Them's my rules, son!" John says, the mischievous grin now on his face. John takes one if the wooden chairs, which had been placed to the side, after both of you tumbled over it, and dragged it to the centre of the room; making as much noise as possible by dragging the legs of the chair along the floor.

"I believe you remember the terms of our arrangement," John said, as he sat on the chair and dramatically began searching in his pants, as though he was having trouble finding his balls. "Would sir kindly assume the position?" John said, with a grin on his face. "Or, will sir be pussying out this afternoon?"

"What the f—" you gasped, as John burst out laughing. Feeling lightheaded, you walked over to John and knelt in front of the chair, between his legs, but a little too far away. You weren't actually about to do this, right?

"You're playing chicken with the wrong guy," John said, smirking. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his hairless balls.

"Gahh... Jesus," you whispered, as John placed one hand behind his own head and with his other hand hung his balls near the edge of the chair.

"They aren't going to lick themselves," John chuckled, believing he was about to call your bluff and would soon be gloating about you 'pussying out' to the same friends, who had laughed at him in drag.

You thought about telling John to fuck off and walking away.

"A deal's a deal," you said, looking up at John. The sweet and sharp smell of sweat hit your nose, as you got close; followed by the velvety-soft feel of skin on your tongue, as you tried not to gag and move your tongue over John's ball sack. As your tongue ran along his balls, you got the taste of salt and sweat in your mouth.

"Hah-ahhhhhhhh." John's laugh was interrupted by a mixture of surprise and pleasure. You could have pulled back then, your forfeit completed and your humiliation accomplished. You knew John was going to have a field day when he told people about this.

You felt dread at the humiliation of licking another man's balls, and revulsion because you were straight, and this felt wrong. You took your tongue off of John's sack, made it wet, and then made your tongue broad and flat, as you bathed the other ball.

John's mobile phone jingled and he started screwing around with it. You ignored it, you made your tongue wet and worked it from the bottom middle of his sack to where the sack meets the shaft.

"A deal's a deal," you thought, and he had gone full drag with no half measures. "He's going to embellish this story anyway," you thought to yourself. The musky scent of John's balls filled your nostrils, you wet your tongue again, and went back to the first ball. "Better make sure I got it all," you tell yourself.

John sighed and moaned gently, his demeanour had changed from mischievous to something else. You realised he was holding his cock up in his hand. "Wait a minute... is he—" your thought, interrupted by the sound of someone coming up the hall toward the common room.

You bolted upright in a panic, and then immediately thought you'd made the situation worse by trying to hide it. After all, it was just a dumb forfeit after a bet.

Your girlfriend Claire walked in, and politely greeted you and John. "Oh, hey guys, how's it going?"

You were prepared for John to gloat, and tell her about your humiliation, but he said nothing. In fact, he told Claire that you both had moved the furniture because he lost his ID. You realised during the conversation, that you could still smell and taste John's ball juices on your lips.

Claire left the room eventually and you and John looked at each other and burst out laughing. Thank god that's over, you thought to yourself. You washed your face but you were sure you could still smell John's musk clinging to you.

Later that night, Claire and the dorm mates headed out, and you were sitting alone at the computer in your room, looking at some schoolwork. Your phone vibrated, and it was a message from John reading, "What r u upto? Just got fortnite, come have a look!"

You felt slightly nervous, the humiliation of being 'forced' to lick his balls was still fresh in your mind, as well as his musk, which you were sure you could still detect, despite washing your face several times. You ignored the nervous feeling, reasoning that the forfeit had been done, and it was in the past.

The schoolwork was boring, so you headed through to John's room. You opened the door and exclaimed, "Motherfucker!" as you saw John sitting there on the wooden chair from the common room, wearing only a T-shirt.

"Did he actually bring the same chair into his room?" was somehow the first thought that entered your mind.

John had pulled his T-shirt up slightly, leaving the bottom of his belly exposed. Lacking any trousers, John's large, hairy and surprisingly muscular legs were exposed. He sat with his feet planted firmly on the floor and his legs apart.

"What the fuck, dude," you said, laughing at him. John beamed a smile which slowly became a mischievous grin.

"We got interrupted." John wagged his finger for you to come and kneel between his knees. The bastard was right, you thought, reasoning that since it was interrupted the forfeit had not been completed.

"A deal's a—" John started to say.

But, you interrupted, "A deal, yeah, yeah. I was wondering why you let me off the hook, my face still smells like your fucking balls," you said somewhat exasperated, John erupted in laughter.

"At least you're used to the smell, and I guess, familiar with the taste," retorted John, grinning and enjoying your torment.

You groaned, as you walked over and placed your hands on his knees; you lowered yourself down.

"Do you really need to have your dick out, man?" you asked, hoping he might cover it up; as you were eye level with it, and having it pointed directly at you was somewhat disconcerting. It was flaccid at least, you reasoned with yourself.

"Deal's a deal, bro. Let me help you out, though," he said laughing, as he took his cock in one hand.

You leaned forward and reasoned it would be better to just do it quickly, and hope that he would get bored and let you off the hook.

Your tongue felt the soft, hot skin of John's ball sack, still as salty as before; as clearly, the bastard hadn't showered. You licked John's balls like you were lapping an ice cream, and not really paying much attention— until John let out a big groan. You moved your eyes from his balls, and looked upward to see that John, he had relaxed his head back. Even worse, John had a massive erection, which you deduced from seeing the top of his cock poking out from his hand.

John brought his head forward and looked down on you, into your eyes.

"Did I say stop?" he asked, his demeanour again slightly changed.

A thought in your mind told you to say, "Fuck off," and end the forfeit. You began to feel your cheeks flushing in response to John's question.

Another thought, louder and unfamiliar, said, "He did not say stop." You made your tongue wet, and started slowly massaging him with your tongue. You made sure your tongue was always wet, and that you always licked with your tongue relaxed, to make sure you licked as much of his ballsack as possible with each stroke. You also found that your eyes were firmly locked to his. He took his phone out, and started doing something with it. With eye contact broken, you focussed only on making sure you kept polishing his balls. You found yourself thinking you were doing a good job, as his balls were now dripping with your saliva, and every part of them had been thoroughly massaged by your tongue.

Your heart sank, as John began to move his hand slowly up and down his cock. The sick fuck had started masturbating, and he was definitely watching porn on his phone, you thought to yourself. At this point, you thought about stopping; this had gone too far, now he was using you to lick his balls while he jerked off. Just as you began to pull back, John locked eyes with you again, and began to tremble. You stopped licking, and remained still, with his left ball resting on your tongue.

"Oh my go-AHHhhhh!" John screamed.

You were terrified stiff, as you watched a huge shot of cum fire directly upward from John's dick, whilst he was jerking extremely quickly. It felt like you watched in slow motion, as the cum shot up and then dropped back down on his hand, his dick, his balls— as well as your tongue and your cheek.

For a moment, you felt like you were watching this happen, rather than taking part in it. You could see John cumming, as your tongue was on his ball, your face between his legs.

You were frozen, as the salty sizzle of cum was assaulting your tastebuds. The distinct smell of spunk flooded your nostrils. You could feel the hot, sticky, wet mass that landed on your cheek, as it slowly began to drip down your face and off your chin.

"What the fuck..." you thought to yourself, "did he—"

"I didn't say stop," John said, staring directly into your eyes.

And once again, you are fixed on making sure his balls are thoroughly massaged and cleaned by your tongue. As your tongue gently transited over his skin, you started finding little bits of cum, which attached themselves to your tongue, constantly intensifying the flavour of spunk.

John let out a long, satisfied sigh, and he stared down at you diligently cleaning up his mess.

Being in a state of shock, you felt your emotions muted and dissociated from reality. The globs of spunk sticking to your tongue was only a sensation without meaning. At least, until John spoke again.

"The sweet taste of victory... well that's probably not what you're tasting right?" John said smiling, one hand still holding his cock and the other on the back of his head. You were too stunned to react and simply just kept licking John's balls gently, as smaller drops of semen continued to drip down onto your cheek from his cock laden hand. He briefly looked at his phone again and smiled, and then he made eye contact with you again and finally put down his phone.

"Oh, payback is a bitch, right?" John said mischievously, and laughed, as he released his cock and it slapped down softly onto your face, causing a few more dregs of cum to land on your cheek. John placed a hand on the top of your head and gently pulled you close, so that his balls and cock were splayed over your face. His balls were spread out either side of your nose, the end of his cock rested just above your left eye. He then slowly pushed your face away, so his balls dragged over your chin, spreading out the cum that was already on your face, and his cock painted a line of residual semen over your eye and down your cheek.