Conquered

All characters in this story are 18 or older. In addition, this story contains a scene with a graphic description of incest. Reader discretion is advised.

God I hope Krell doesn't cause drama when he finds me and Grayson in handcuffs.

Noticing that my expression had changed to worry, Grayson said, "Hey, aren't you happy? We're gonna get out of here."

"Of course I am, Grayson. I was just thinking... he's gonna find me here, naked..."

The doorbell rang again.

"Don't worry about it. My son would never make you feel uncomfortable."

Um, Grayson... how well exactly do you know your son?

Finally, after nobody answered the front door, we heard it open.

Then, surprisingly, a female voice called out, "Hello? Grayson? Nathaniel?"

"We're in the bathroom, honey!" Grayson called over to her.

"Your wife?" I said, my heart dropping to the bottom of my stomach. Grayson nodded.

I cringed. I'd not only made a move on her husband, I'd outright tricked him into fucking me! She was about the only person in the world I wanted to see even less than Krell. Not only was I about to see her, but she was about to walk in on me in the bathroom, where I stood naked, handcuffed to her husband.

This is gonna suckkkkk.

She knocked on the door. I was so nervous.

If I had a husband like Grayson and some trifling whore tried to steal him from me, I'd lock that bitch in a basement dungeon somewhere and throw away the key.

"Come in honey! We've been handcuffed!" Grayson said.

Mrs. Nash opened the door. She was pretty. She had long blonde hair and a kind face.

"We're OK, honey," said Grayson.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" Mrs. Nash asked. I could tell by the tone in her voice that she was really worried about Grayson. And she had every reason to be. I'd gotten her husband held up at gunpoint the day before. For all she knew, I'd lured Grayson to my apartment on purpose to get held up and forced to have sex again.

I know exactly what I'd be thinking if I were her -- 'This stupid whore wanted my husband's hot dick again and tricked him into coming over.'

"Nothing happened to me, honey. Buddy paid Nathaniel a visit. He pulled a gun on us and handcuffed us to these pipes. We've just been waiting a couple hours now for someone to come free us."

"Oh," said Mrs. Nash. "And, Buddy? Did he have a gun?"

"Yes," said Grayson. "But he didn't point it at me. Just at Nathaniel. And before I got here... well... Buddy sexually assaulted him," Grayson explained. I was embarrassed that he was sharing the details, but also kind of happy. Maybe Mrs. Nash would feel bad for me and forget how angry she was with me.

"I'm fine," I finally said. "Really. Only thing he hurt was my ego."

I'm sure it was awkward, but I wanted the subject to change. Mrs. Nash already knew enough details about my sex life. As it was, it was strange enough having her there in this small bathroom as I stood there naked. My dick was shriveled and my nipples were hard because the water in the tub had gone cold by this point.

"I'm surprised you came here yourself instead of sending Krell," Grayson said, finally breaking the awkwardness.

"I'm glad I didn't send Krell," she said. "My gosh, Grayson, a crazed gunman was here and you're saying I should have sent our 18 year old son?"

"He's a man, Vanessa. Krell can take care of himself. Why didn't you send him?"

"Krell said he wouldn't be able to make it because they needed volunteers at the soup kitchen tonight," Mrs. Nash replied.

I had to suppress a laugh. Krell had lied to his mother. I knew that he was getting fucked by Craig, not volunteering at some soup kitchen. I figured Craig was probably fucking him over and over and over. Krell had a cute little twink ass, and Craig was a horny jock.

"How much longer is this going to go on, Grayson? How long do I have to worry about the gunman hurting you or one of our kids? I can't live like this."

"I'm not going to let anything happen to the kids. And he showed us tonight that his gun was unloaded. It was all just to play mind games with us."

"It wasn't just mind games, Grayson!" Mrs. Nash said loudly, almost yelling. "I'm calling the police, right now."

"Mrs. Nash," I said. "Please don't do that. I know this is a terrible time for this, but I really want to apologize to you. It's bad enough what's happened to Grayson because of me. If you call the police, everyone will know. I have enough on my conscience. I can't be responsible for ruining Grayson's reputation too. Please," I begged.

"I don't believe this," said Mrs. Nash.

"He's not going to come back," I said. "He just wanted to prove something to me by degrading me. It's over."

"Nathaniel's right, honey. Now how about getting us out of here? Do you see keys lying around anywhere for these handcuffs?" Grayson asked.

"I'll have to look around the apartment," Mrs. Nash replied.

As she left the room to look for the keys, I looked over guiltily at Grayson.

"Grayson, I am so, so, so sorry for all of this."

"I know you are, Nathaniel."

"But now... meeting her. I feel even worse. Grayson--"

"Nathaniel. Tell her. Not me. OK?"

I paid someone to pull a gun on her husband and make him fuck me. I'm lucky she didn't hold my head underwater.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Nash came back with the keys. First she uncuffed Grayson, and then he uncuffed me.

Finally when we were free, Grayson asked me if I could stay in the restroom for a minute and give him the chance to talk to Mrs. Nash in private.

So as they left the room, I grabbed a big white bath sheet to dry off with.

She's his life partner, not me. She's his soul mate, not me. I'm nothing to him.

They were probably only talking for about 10 minutes, but to me it felt like an hour. I was overcome with jealousy.

What makes her so fucking special anyway? She's pretty, but she's got thin old lady arms and wrinkles. Why would he want this aging wench? I doubt she lets Grayson fuck her as hard as he wants to. He's a man. He's raging with testosterone. He deserves someone who can fulfill his needs. I hope her fucking cancer comes back and kills the bitch. Then I can step in to comfort the poor grieving widower.

I know my thoughts were cruel, but love makes people think and do crazy things. Sometimes humans think nasty thoughts that we don't really mean; I'd like to think I'm a better person now than I was then, but the truth is that, deep down, every single one of us has the capacity for hatred.

After a while, Grayson came back into the room.

"I told my wife that you're going to stay the night with us and come to church with us tomorrow. She said it was OK with her, but she wants you to drive with her."

"Grayson, I don't want to be alone with her!" I whined.

"Don't you think you owe it to her? You told me you wanted to change. Part of change is showing contrition."

I nodded.

"Thattaboy. I'm gonna go now and my wife is gonna wait downstairs in the car for you. Why don't you pack a bag, and don't forget church clothes."

I was so nervous about riding with Mrs. Nash that I didn't pay much attention to what I packed.

I wonder what she'll say when he's not around. She told him she forgave me. But when it's just me and her..."

I was thinking of Karen Hill in "Goodfellas." When she told the "whore in 2R" to "get your own Goddamn man." I laughed, as I couldn't picture Grayson's timid, plain wife reacting like that. But a dick as good as Grayson's can make bitches do some crazy motherfucking things.

I walked down to the lobby of my building and looked outside. I could see Mrs. Nash pulled up in front of the building in her car.

OK. Here we go...

I opened the door to her car. "Thanks for the ride," I said as I sat down and buckled my seat belt.

"You're welcome, hon," she replied.

The ride with Mrs. Nash wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. She was very kind. She asked me questions about myself, my family, and my work. The fact that she was nice made me feel so guilty about what I'd done, and about the cruel thoughts I'd had about her.

Finally, I had to unburden myself.

"Mrs. Nash... I am so sorry about what I did. I really wish I hadn't done it. It was seriously selfish and reckless and I can't believe I stooped that low. I just wish I could take it back."

"You can't take it back, Nathaniel, but you can try to change."

"I want to change. When I look at what I did, I never knew I could do something that dark and twisted."

"Nathaniel, it's never too late to change. You're coming to church with us tomorrow. Maybe this is your second chance. Maybe you'll feel something at church, and you'll let Jesus in. There is no higher changing power than the power of Jesus."

It had been several years since I'd thought about Jesus, probably not since I was a little kid. But looking at Grayson and his wife, they clearly had something that I lacked. I couldn't believe I was thinking it, but maybe they were right. Maybe religion would fill the hole that I'd been trying to fill with compulsively seducing straight men. Maybe I just needed to have more of an open mind about it.

"Do you really think so?" I asked. "Maybe it's too late for me. I've already done something so terrible. Maybe I'm irredeemable."

"You're not irredeemable, sweetie. And, Nathaniel? I forgive you for what you did."

I was shocked. Grayson and his wife had both forgiven me for such a serious transgression. It was remarkable. I felt so indebted to both of them for showing me that kind of grace. I really wanted to prove to them that I was serious about changing. And I wanted to prove it to myself, too.

It took about half an hour to arrive at the Nash residence. I lived in a hip, high-middle-income East Bay suburb full of twentysomething tech workers. Grayson and family lived further out in a wealthy exurb that attracted families who wanted nothing to do with nightlife or any other riffraff that comes with city living.

I knew most of my friends and coworkers would mock Grayson's house as a "McMansion" but I liked it. It was huge for a 4 bedroom house. It was 2 stories, plus he had a finished basement, big backyard with a garden and a pool, and a three car garage. He'd made quite a life for himself.

Grayson gave me the grand tour. He was proud of showing me the trees and bushes he'd planted, and bragged that he did all of his own landscaping.

They had a huge family portrait in their foyer, which had marble floors and a grand staircase. Of course I recognized Krell, but the whole family was attractive. The best-looking son was definitely Kabb, the second-oldest who was playing college football at UCLA on a scholarship. Grayson had a manly body with bulging biceps, juicy forearms, pecs, and cut abs, but Kabb's body made his dad's look small by comparison. Kabb was absolutely

jacked

. He was huge and imposing, just a big wall of solid muscle. It was hard for me not to drool.

Obviously Krell has a thing for his dad, but I wonder if he jerks off thinking about his brothers too.

I didn't realize just how hungry I was until Mrs. Nash served dinner. It was comfort food -- meatloaf and mashed potatoes, far different from the food I was used to eating. But it was so good, and I gratefully scarfed it down.

Finally, Grayson brought me to the room I'd be staying in. The room was a typical jock's bedroom, with trophies and posters of sports stars. There was one shirtless poster of a football player named JJ Watt. I'd never heard of him, but he had exactly the same tall, solidly muscular build and blonde hair as Kabb. This bedroom was so much different from my childhood bedroom where I'd kept posters of Taylor Swift and Hannah Montana. This was the room that his eldest sons, Kuhn and Kabb, had shared when they were growing up.

Grayson and I said good night to each other and I changed into the pajamas that I'd packed in my night bag. Once the door was shut, I headed immediately for Kabb's dresser, hoping he'd left behind some underwear or a jockstrap or something that I could put over my head as I jerked off thinking about Grayson.

But as I opened the top drawer to rifle through Kabb's things, I saw my reflection in the full body mirror on the other side of the room.

What am I doing? I thought I was better than this.

I shut the drawer without disturbing Kabb's things.

If I'm serious about changing, the time to start is now. I can't do this anymore.

For the first time since I was a little kid, I knelt down and said a prayer before bed. I prayed not to make Grayson love me, but just to open his heart. "And open mine, too," I added.

I dreamt about Buddy. I dreamt about him pinning me down, and mocking me, and dehumanizing me. And in the dream, I liked it. The rougher he was, the more turned on I got. In my dream, I wasn't disgusted at all by him. His simian, blue collar, dangerous energy was intoxicating to me, and I begged him for his dick. Just as he was about to fuck me, I woke up. My first emotion was disappointment that I'd woken up before the good part of the dream. Then I was disappointed in myself for dreaming about Buddy, and for getting turned on by being degraded.

I haven't changed at all. I never will. Why try to be something I'm not instead of the sick queer that I am?

So I went back over to Kabb's dresser. The digital clock on top of it said it was 10:00 PM. I was surprised it was still so early in the night. Then I opened up Kabb's top dresser drawer and started leafing through it. I quickly found a pair of his boxers. I snatched them up as if I'd found buried treasure, took off my pants, and went back to bed.

I lied down, and covered my face with Kabb's underwear. I breathed in, and even though the underwear were clean, I undoubtedly smelled the masculine pheromones that only a young, straight jock can emit. Kabb must have been 22 or something, so he was at the height of his masculine allure. My dick got so hard as I inhaled all of the manly scents that he'd left behind in his flannel boxers.

To my shame, I jerked off thinking not about Grayson, but about Buddy. I pictured Buddy's hairy, dirty, sweaty naked body. I imagined him with a curly dark bush and thick, cut cock. I pictured him fucking me. I imagined hearing him taunt me about how much I wanted him, and what a nice obedient little twink I was, and how much he loved my asshole. What I imagined was not sensual lovemaking -- it was brutal fucking. As I fantasized about Buddy and took my whiffs of Kabb's underwear, I jerked myself off furiously.

But before I could cum, the door opened!

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" It was Mrs. Nash. I took the boxers off of my face and covered my dick.

Unbelievably, I was being walked in on while masturbating for the second day in a row! The first time, it had been Craig. Now it was Grayson's wife.

"I knocked, but you must not have heard me," Mrs. Nash said. "I just -- nevermind. Good night."

Well, that had killed the mood. I knew she would tell Grayson about what she'd walked in on. How fucking humiliating.

I wanted to finish jerking off, but I couldn't get hard again. The adrenaline rush or maybe the humiliation from getting caught made it impossible to get turned on just from thoughts.

I considered watching some porn on my iPhone, but then I remembered I was in a muscular straight jock's bedroom. There had to be something else in there. Maybe I'd find a used cum rag, or some nude selfies -- something I could use to finish myself off.

I went through his closet. There were old yearbooks, sports cards he'd collected, board games, sports equipment and other normal items. So I kept digging. And then deep under a bunch of other junk, I saw a shoebox. Inside the shoebox, there was a fleshlight!

Well, well, well. I guess Kabb isn't as squeaky clean as his dad is.

I was incredibly turned on by the forbidden fruit of Kabb's used fleshlight. I placed my dick inside, and as I started the fleshlight's sucking, I got so turned on thinking about how my dick was in the exact spot Kabb's dick had likely been so many times before.

As the fleshlight simulated sucking my dick, I pictured Kabb thrusting in and out of the fleshlight, his big manly butt muscles flexing as he did. Then I pictured Kabb's balls, low hanging in my mind, contracting as Kabb came inside of the fleshlight, filling it with his man juice.

And that caused me to erupt. I came and came and came as the fleshlight kept dutifully sucking me off.

When I was done, I used Kabb's underwear to clean myself off, and I threw them into my overnight bag to keep as a souvenir. Then I put my pajama pants back on, and brought the fleshlight to the bathroom to rinse it out and wash with soap.

I put everything in the closet back where it was when I'd found it. Then I went to bed and fell back asleep.

I woke up at 6:30 AM. Grayson and his wife were still asleep, so I remembered my mission to search Krell's bedroom for Grayson's sperm and to recover it if possible.

I knew which bedroom was Krell's because there was only one with Ariana Grande posters. I didn't have to do much searching, because he had a mini fridge next to his desk. If he had Grayson's sperm, I figured it would be in the mini fridge.

I was right.

Sitting in Krell's fridge was the mug filled with Grayson's sperm. I couldn't believe it. He really had bought it from Buddy! I took the sperm with me and walked back over to Kabb's bedroom. Kabb also had a mini fridge, so I stashed the sperm inside, figuring I could grab it later and put it in my overnight bag when it was time to go home.

Just after I'd put it in the fridge, I heard a knock at the door. "Come in," I said.

Grayson opened the door. "Good morning, Nathaniel," he said cheerily. I knew Mrs. Nash had likely told him about catching me masturbating, but, much to my relief, he didn't say anything about it.

"Good morning Grayson! How did you sleep?"

"Very well, thank you. How about you?"

"Great. Very comfortable mattress, thank you."

"I'm glad to hear that. How are you feeling about what happened yesterday?"

"You mean with Buddy? It's fine, Grayson. I'm just happy to be alive."

"Have you given any more thought to what I said about going to the police?"

"Yes, and I still don't think we should. I think Buddy proved whatever point he was trying to prove yesterday, and he's not going to bother us again."

"OK," Grayson said, uneasily. "But if you hear even one more peep from him, we're going to the police. I can't spend every day worrying that he's going to attack you the second you're out of my sight."

"Agreed. If he pops back up, we'll go to the police," I said.

"Great. Anyway, why don't you take a shower and get dressed and ready for church? My son Krell is on his way home and he'll probably want to take a shower too."

"Too late, Daddy!" Krell announced, coming up behind Grayson.

"Krell! I'd like you to meet..."

"Nathaniel, isn't it? I think we follow each other on Instagram. But it's nice to finally meet you in person!" Krell extended his hand to mine, and we shook. "My dad tells me you're a very gifted graphic designer."

"Actually, Krell is a great graphic designer as well, Nathaniel. He's the only kid who will probably take after the old man and go into the tech industry."

"I guess we have a lot in common, Krell," I said, barely concealing the irony.

"Well I'm going to leave you two to get to know each other. I am going to go get dressed and ready for church. Don't take too long getting ready, you two."

After Grayson exited the room, Krell immediately dropped the sweet act.

"Where is it, Nathaniel?" he asked menacingly.

"Where's what?" I responded, playing dumb.