Be Careful What You Click

Henry was the frat’s president. As a result, he got to live in the house year-round, but had to pay whenever school was not in session. It was the start of his final summer break, and he was online shopping for pillows and other small items to help accentuate the household. It was getting a bit late, though, and Henry was getting sleepy. He dozed off for just a second, but was rudely awaken to this statement: “Your Male unit will be processed and sent to you ASAP.”

He looked down, and lo and behold, it was on some sort of slave offshoot of Amazon.

“Fuck!” he said. He said it again when he noticed in bright, bold letters at the top of the page: ALL SALES ARE FINAL. “Shit. I’m going to have a nonreturnable slave.”

A couple days later, his mailman knocked on his door. “Here’s your robot, Henry. Next time, order from somebody a bit less busy.” He chugged a water bottle as Henry lugged the human inside. A note was attached to his navel. “Insert finger into me so that I know who my master is.” Henry tentatively did so, and the presumed robot suddenly became very animated.

“Hello! My name is X4665DHHFD45665. What would you like to call me?”


“Noted. My new name is Gary. How can I assist you today, Master?”

“First off, drop the master shtick. My name is Henry.”

“I will call you Henry then.”

“Do you know what? How well is your interior design?”

“Not too bad. I assisted my spouse in decorating before becoming a Male unit.” Henry then stared at the human, who was waiting for elaboration.

“Oh, um, I bought some pillows and a spread. Can you make my house look nice?”

“Certainly, Henry.” Gary got to work as Henry called his best friend.

“Zekky, I bought a fucking guy.”

“An actual human being?”

“Yes. And I can’t fucking return him because even though I accidentally bought him, all sales are final.”

“How do you…?”

“It’s a long fucking story.”

“So, why’d you call me?”

“You’re my vice president. Should he be considered a fratbro or a maid?”

“Is he hot enough?”

“He’s a bit on the older side, but remarkably fit and chiselled.”

“Then he’s a part of it. He will need an executive position, though. Can he do sexual favours?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Then he’ll be the E-Board fuckboi,” noted Zekky, as he hung up.

“The couch is finished!” announced Gary. Henry went downstairs and saw something out of Architecture Digest’s staged photos, with an immaculate looking couch.

“Wow. That’s really fucking nice. Let’s talk for a little bit.” Henry explained his new role, and Gary started preparing for it wholeheartedly.

Pup Play, Forever

Jorge Jr. and his wife, Carmilla, were visiting one of Jorge’s close family friends. Jorge hadn’t seen John in a while, so the guys would catch up while the girls did some shopping. The couple arrived at John’s house, and some introductions later, the two groups split up. Jorge and John were talking for a while, when John brought up his new dog’s name, Gorebyss. Jorge’s eyes immediately glazed over, and his face changed to one resembling a puppy dog. John was lucky Jorge never heard the obscure Pokémon’s name before, so his trigger worked. He unfortunately didn’t have a leash or collar, but his tie would do for now.

“Who’s a good boy?” John asked.

“Ruff-ruff!” Jorge responded. He didn’t have that strained look in his eyes that people unwillingly following commands sometimes had. He truly considered himself a pup.

Meanwhile, at the mall, Carmilla and Luann, John’s wife, were shopping. They got quite a few doggy items, as Luann told Carmilla about their new dog. She also divulged that John was a bit submissive, and so they went to the Adult Store, and bought a chastity cage and a buttplug. Carmilla had no idea this was all for her husband. Luann then got a text stating he was ready. The two females left.

As they were unloading the carriage, Luann slipped on some earplugs she had stowed away in the trunk. She then asked Carmilla if she could play her favorite album for the ride home. Carmilla agreed. While it was technically a Matchbox Twenty album, it was laced with subliminal messages geared specifically towards spouses of the men John turned into pups. By the time the two arrived back at Luann’s house, Carmilla didn’t even know any person named Jorge. She then drove home, while Luann walked inside.

Jorge then lived his life out as a dog. The rest of the family was already conditioned, as Jorge Sr. had John over quite a bit, including to some family gatherings. Carmilla eventually remarried another Jorge, not knowing why she was so attracted to that name.

Zac had just opened a sext from Dwayne Johnson. This had naturally started on the Baywatch set, when Dwayne peeked in to ask to run lines.

“Hey, man, the girls are- Oh.”

“Fuck, Dwayne! Leave or close the damn door!” He chose to step inside and close it.

“Do you normally do this on set?”

“Our schedule’s been unnaturally busy, so I couldn’t get my rocks off at home. Why’d you step inside, though? Don’t you have a baby?”

“I do, but I’m only with her because she was the last woman I fucked while I identified as bi.”

“Oh, okay. So you’re gay now?”

“Pretty much. The only reason I chose to do this shitshow of a movie was to be with you.”

“Excuse me? What makes you think I’m gay?”

“You’ve literally gotten harder looking at my shirtless body. If you’re not gay, you’re repressing it.”

“You’re right. It all started on the set of HSM with Corbin and the boys.”

“That’s nice and all, but do you actually want to run lines? I was out with an escort last night and forgot to practice.”

“Sure thing.”

The two Hollywood studs had an undercover relationship going on. Dwayne confessed to his wife that she was really, and truly, the only female that did anything for him sexually, and that he was in a relationship with Zac Efron. She didn’t mind too much, as Dwayne promised his biological family came first.

Zac made sure to never get a serious girlfriend, as that would complicate matters immensely. He still put up a straight façade, but he was fucking Dwayne every chance he could get. He quickly closed the sext, and made sure no paparazzi saw it. Thankfully, they were all head-on, ostensibly to take photos of his arms for some post about his jacked muscles. Zac went a different way down the mountain, one that he knew was much quicker.

He pulled up to his house to find Dwayne and a stranger’s car there. To his surprise, John Cena answered the door. He actually didn’t answer the door, but was walking through the main hallway when Zac walked inside.

“Oh, hello. Where’s Dwayne?”

“In the kitchen.”

“Thanks.” Zac walked into the kitchen, only to find a giant pan on top of the stove.

“It’s paella. I thought we could try something new for our special guest.”

“Why is John here?”

“Nikki’s a bit kinky, and actually likes watching John in gay sex. We hadn’t caught up in a while, so I decided to kill two birds with one stone.”

“Aren’t we afraid of revealing ourselves to the world?”

“Federico is on that. He’s putting twelve layers of encryption on the cameras.”

“How much is that going to cost us?”

“Nothing! He just wants a copy for himself!”

“And what makes you think he won’t release it?”

“We’re into some super kinky shit, Zac, and I’ve never heard about it anywhere, even on TMZ.”

“Fine.” The three had a cordial dinner. To no one’s surprise, they ran out of paella, and after some more small talk, they went to the bedroom. The three stripped, and John revealed a massive cock.

“You know that Trainwreck scene? That was my actual erect cock. They actually had to cut a bit out in post-production.”

“Is he lying?” asked Zac, to Dwayne.

“No. He was as hung as a horse in WWE, and I know for a fact he was still there when the McMahons brought in those penis steroids.” John beamed as Zac tried to get that mental image out of his head.

“Let’s fuck,” he said. Because he was the smallest out of the three, he was in the middle. He was sucking off John, while he bottomed for Dwayne, as usual. Getting that cock down his throat took some effort, but it was well worth in the end when John’s ejaculation happened past his Adam’s apple. Meanwhile, Dwayne was fucking him like he normally did. He wasn’t as strong, as he didn’t want him to choke. The three then switched positions after Dwayne came, and they lasted the whole night.

“Fuck,” said John, laying in a pool of sweat and cum. “That was hot. Have you guys ever thought about throwing an underground celeb orgy? I know tons of guys would be interested in that.”

“I’ll talk to my real estate agent,” said Dwayne. “I can always put it under my wife’s name to hide it even better.”

“This sounds like it’s going to be fucking hot. I’ll alert my gay porn friend,” noted Zac.

“Well, I’ll tell the guys at WWE, but I need to leave. Total Divas shooting is happening today, and Nikki and I have been invited to a party.” John quickly got dressed and left. Dwayne got out of bed and started to make the orgy a reality.

(Author’s note: I normally don’t do this, but how many would like a continuation of this? This definitely has a lot of open-ended potential, compared to some of my other stories.)

Gronk’s Beer Can

The NFL was getting a bit tired about Rob Gronkowski’s crazy antics, both on and off the field. They contacted Tom Brady, Julian Edelman, and Danny Amendola, all current Patriots that season. Their ultimate plan involved the parade celebrating their Super Bowl victory. To do so, they of course needed to win. Tom was a well-known player, regardless of where one lived in the country, so it wasn’t too difficult to talk to all the teams they were playing, and let them on their long-term plan.

Surprisingly, they all acquiesced, and the Patriots did win that year. Phase Two of the plan could now get started. Tom contacted Bud Light, and negotiated a contract with them. He had one stipulation, and the product involved was perfected quickly. He made sure those cans of Bud Light were in the same vehicle Gronk was going to be in. Danny was in that same vehicle, and watched as Gronk drank. He eventually stood on top of the bus, shirtless. Danny was waiting for it to kick in. Those beers were laced with Viagra and an ejaculatory agent, so it came as no shock to Danny when Gronk came in front of tons of people, including some children.

The police quickly got involved, but they too were in on the plan. Gronk was to be taken straight to the courthouse, where a judge would see a video, recorded by Mark Wahlberg, and sentence Gronk to two years in prison. He tried to fight, but the evidence was quite clear-cut.

The final part of the plan involved the prison transport truck. Instead of taking Gronk to prison, it took him to an abandoned warehouse in the Berkshires. The driver told him this was a special celebrity prison, so regular inmates wouldn’t bother him. It wasn’t. Gronk was injected with a knockout agent as soon as he stepped inside.

When he came to, he was strapped to a chair, with a tube on his dick. A panoramic video was playing, of a spiral, with both audio and subliminal messages. By the end of the day, Gronk was fully gonked. The facility he was sent to was a black market sperm clinic. It specialized in celebrity clients. Gronk, however, would be their first in-house producer.

The rest of the world was told Gronk died in a car crash, which actually did happen, to an extent. They found his DNA on a charred body, which was naturally a plant. Tom had to thank the NFL and their deep pockets for orchestrating such an elaborate, but ultimately successful, scheme.

Preppy Slave

Xander got into Harvard Law. The only problem was that he couldn’t afford it. His family was rich, but his father was involved in a Ponzi scheme that had not gone public yet. He contacted the financial aid office.

“What can I do? I didn’t send in any forms; is it too late?”

“Yes, we’ve already allocated the money. But I’ll send you an opportunity. You might not like it, but the pay is exorbitantly high, which is great.”

“I’ll do anything!” A few minutes later, he received an email from the office. It was titled, “Houseboy”. Xander opened it up.

“A rich middle-aged man is looking for a college aged stud, preferably attending Harvard, to be his houseboy. Everything is provided, and the weekly stipend is generous. He understands college comes first, but requests you be available at least one full weekend day. Please send a shirtless photo and a letter stating why you would be a good fit to this address.”

The rest of the letter was legalese and nothing too special, until he got to his salary. It was $1,000 daily. He would be a millionaire by the time he got out of college. He quickly wrote up the letter and snapped a new pic. He sent them in, and then had a meeting with his lawyer to discuss the fallout of the Ponzi scheme.

About a week later, he received an email back from that same address.

“Xander Hotchkiss, you have the job. I ask that you come a week before school starts to acquaint yourself with the household. As noted, starting from that date, this will be a year-round position, including Christmas and your birthday. If there are any other questions, please do not hesitate to email or call.” That part was a bit shocking, but he was in it for the money.


He arrived at Alex Worshester’s house. Harvard was literally across the street, so travel would not be an issue. He knocked on the front door.

“Hello Xander! It’s nice to finally meet you in person. Please, come on in.”

“Thank you, sir. Where should I put my bags?”

“I’ll walk you to your room. Your first task is washing and drying your clothes. I’m a bit of a germophobe, so I want to make sure the clothes are cleaned to my standards.”

“Certainly, sir.” Xander was brought to the laundry room, where he unpacked everything that could be washed. He stripped down to his boxer briefs, and poured in the detergent. What Alex neglected to tell him was that the detergent actually wasn’t detergent. It was a corrosive agent that only affected fabric. That’s how it was able to stay in the container, and pouring it in caused no immediate damage.

Xander was then shown the rest of the house. His room was very spacious, but had a door to Alex’s bedroom inside of it, much like a hotel room. He was able to unpack everything else, and then went to check on his laundry. When he opened the washer, he was in for a shock. At the bottom was tons of strands of clothing and towels, all of them corroded by the “detergent”.

“Alex! Come in here! I think something’s wrong with your detergent!”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he replied, stepping out from behind the doorframe. “I think you might have glanced over your contract. You will be nude in my house, unless guests are coming over. Then you will put on underwear of my choosing. I will also allow you one pair of socks for wintertime weather purposes.”

“And what about my towels?”

“Oh, you’ll shower, but under my terms. If I need to travel for business, and can not take you, you will use this towel.” Alex handed him a washcloth.

“Correct, boy.”

“But I’ll need to wear actual clothes for college.”

“You won’t be going to college, boy. See, I orchestrated this whole thing. I was the whistleblower on your dad’s Ponzi scheme, and the admissions director at Harvard is a close family friend. You did read the addendum to your contract, right?”

“My lawyer said addenda are usually small, nitpicky things.”

“I forgot George was on my payroll as well. I’ll explain the contract. You signed away all your rights. I legally own you now. Since you are legally no longer a person, you can’t sue me. You will do everything I say, or there will be consequences. Becoming an eunuch will be the least of your worries.”

“But I got into Harvard! I was on all the paperwork and stuff!”

“My friend’s been there for a very long time, Xander. No one really cares if he bends the rule a bit. And, hey, Harvard isn’t going to say no to another rich white male attending!” Alex had a nice chuckle at his topical comment. Xander used that chance to dart away.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” announced Alex. “You see, you have literally no rights outside this house. You can’t do anything, because legally, you’re not a human being anymore.”

Xander closed the door. He thought, “What the fuck did I just get myself into?” as he went back to the laundry room, to listen to his new master.

You! Yes, you, the reader! Help me! This dude has a razor next to my head, and he’s not even looking at me! I don’t know how this happened, but I need your help.

I’m a gay porn star, but none of my shoots have been this crazy. There was this one time I was part of a bukkake, but that’s besides the point. I could fucking die here, people!

And Miguel? He’s what we call in the business a himbo. Normally, he doesn’t do shoots like this, and I don’t see why the fucking director thought a shoot with razors would be good for a person who confuses brain and Brian!

So, I know there’s really nothing you can actually do to help. Luckily, one of the PAs unplugged the razor, so when Miguel naturally dropped it, it only scratched me harmlessly before bouncing to the floor. I got paid extra for the shoot though.

But here’s where I actually need your help. I will be sending a petition to management that Miguel only does fuck scenes, with no plot. He’s too much of a risk to the community. He’s still fucking hot, though, so I don’t want him to leave completely. You can sign the petition at I hope you join me in signing. And thanks for reading!

Roleplay Limits

Officer Brown responded to the call. It was on his beat, and besides, today was boring. He arrived at 923 Beacon Ave. No other emergency vehicles were there, so he went and knocked on the front door. A man in cuffs answered it.

“Oh, hello, Officer.”

“What’s the matter here?”

“Well, it’s a funny story. My boyfriend and I were roleplaying, and he was the sexy cop. Unfortunately, he slammed my phone to the ground after I called 911. The call evidently went through, because you’re here now.”

“Prank calling the police is a felony. Are you aware of this fact?”

“I know, Officer. That’s why I didn’t press call; the impact must have caused it.”

“Hey, are your nipples hard?”

“Yes, Officer.”

“Can I touch them?” Without waiting, Brown touched a hard male nipple for the first time.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you guys were super kinky and shit.”

“Not all of us, Officer.”

“So, why’d you answer the door? I thought you were the ‘prisoner’.”

“I am, but he lost the keys. He’s chained to the bed, while I have these on. These are police-issued handcuffs from back when he was on the force, and he knows all cops keep a master key on them.”

“That’s right. I’ll uncuff you right now.” Harry was excited to be free, then grabbed Brown and looked at him in sheer terror.

“My boyfriend is batshit crazy. We weren’t roleplaying. He really was going to cuff me and rape me, and since he is a police officer, there’s nothing I could do about it.”

“I’ll arrest him then.”

“No! He has my family tied up to some bombs. If he finds out you know, they’re dead!”

“And your clearly psychotic boyfriend is still an officer of the law?”

“Allentown has low standards. So, what’s the plan?”

“I’ll call in SWAT. They have a signal jammer, so your family won’t get killed when he presses the button.”

“Thank you, Officer.”


“In breaking news today, Londonville has lost one of its finest, Officer Leroy Brown. He was killed in an explosion set off by psychotic fellow officer, Sean Jenkins. His boyfriend did not know of his previous psychological issues, and so was as alarmed as Officer Brown was when the situation became clear. We are sending our thoughts and prayers to the families of the deceased. And in other breaking news:”