The Full Ride

by Gavin Atlas

  * * * *

  My nerves were rattled. Mr. Laszlo drove me to Kentucky to meet with an admissions officer named Martin Kelly. I’d asked Mr. Laszlo why he thought I had a shot at Fenton.

  He blinked twice and said, “I mentioned that scholarship, right? You’re a good match, I promise.”

  Mr. Laszlo dropped me off and told me to meet him in the cafeteria later. While walking to the admissions department, I noticed the buildings. Lots of impressive red-brick edifices with white columns along a well-manicured quad. It seemed dignified, for sure.

  When I entered Mr. Kelly’s office alone, he looked me up and down, but then turned away as if something about me annoyed him. I was surprised by how short he was, and I’m not tall myself. He had a pale complexion and the nervous air of someone busy and distracted. He frowned as he perused my file.

  “I’m not sure why Mr. Laszlo asked me to waive the application deadline for you. Your achievements are impressive except the math score. You’re not qualified for Fenton. I’m sorry.” Mr. Kelly fidgeted in his chair. He did look sorry.

  “It’s okay,” I said, my heart in my shoes. “It figures something as fantastic as this Bardache Scholarship would go to someone with a better record.”

  “Wait…what?” Mr. Kelly sat up straight and looked at me in amazement. “Well now, that makes all the difference! I had no idea you were—oh! Here it is in Laszlo’s note. I thought he was just tormenting me by sending such a hot boy, but he’s not. What are you doing with your clothes on? Get naked, get on my desk, and put your legs in the air!” Mr. Kelly turned the envelope Mr. Laszlo’s recommendation had come in upside down. Condoms and sample packs of lube spilled out.

  “Ex-excuse me?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I have to let you fuck me to get into college?” My dick instantly hardened.

  Mr. Kelly scurried to clear off his desk. “If you’re interested in a Bardache.”

  Holy shit. This is why Mr. Laszlo thought I could get into a prestigious school. Mr. Kelly gave me an impatient look. I couldn’t believe I wanted to go along with this, but I found myself pulling off my shirt and pants. I didn’t understand myself. Why did I want this kind of humiliation?

  “You’re gorgeous.” Mr. Kelly ogled my naked body. “You could be in porn,” he whispered as he fondled my ass. “Get on up there.”

  My heart pounded as I mounted the desk. I was still stunned. I had to give up my ass to get into college! My body hummed with excitement I could feel from my stomach to the top of my head.

  He stripped as fast as he could. He had a pudgy, hairy body—nothing at all like Mr. Laszlo’s. Mr. Kelly’s dick was as large as Mr. Laszlo’s and equally rock-hard. That’s what counted.

  The desk was low. Perhaps Mr. Kelly had requested this desk on purpose as it was the perfect height for him to fuck my ass.

  I needed to hear what I was thinking spoken out loud. “Everyone else admitted gets in because of their brains…but I’d be rejected if I didn’t give up my hole?”

  “That’s exactly right.” His confirmation made me moan. As he barreled into me, I gasped. The invasion had me reeling in heated, but fantastic shame.

  He reamed me as hard as he could, but he suppressed his grunts and groans, probably so his co-workers in nearby offices wouldn’t hear. His dick was too large for me to stay silent, however, and before long, he’d stuffed my underwear in my mouth to keep me quiet. I bit down on the white cloth to help me make it through his vicious pounding. I let him ravish me, offering myself up as if my future depended on it. I felt his hands, greedy and hot, grab me everywhere—my neck, my ass, and my nipples.

  Next he wanted to take me doggy and virtually threw me to the carpet. My head snapped back as he rammed his thick dick back inside me. I bit down on the cloth and shut my eyes tight, willing myself to work through the pain. The rocking of his body thrusting into mine knocked a pile of slick brochures down on my head, but he didn’t stop. When I opened my eyes I could see some of the words despite the violent shaking and the sweat. “A culture of respect for our students such as one would give any intellectual peer or colleague.”

  I looked over my shoulder and saw Mr. Kelly’s expression, one of a lust-starved madman. His wild eyes were riveted to my ass. The memory of seeing my nude body arched up to take his dick would be forever seared in my brain. I was not his intellectual peer. There was no way I deserved respect.

  Ten minutes had passed, and I was almost in tears. I felt his breath rise, followed by his voice, and then he shot his load deep inside me. He couldn’t help himself and grunted so loudly it was a roar. I’d never been the cause of such intense, uncontrolled pleasure before, and that made me come as well, shooting as far as the brochures in front of me.

  “Oh my God. Making your ass bounce…is, fuck, the most fabulous sight I’ve ever seen. Everyone will love—you know? We haven’t had a Bardache Scholar in years. Are you always this easy a bottom? And this good?”

  “I try to be, sir,” I said, panting and looking over my shoulder. I let him remain inside me. He seemed to be waiting for me to say more. “And yes, I suppose I’m…easy.” I felt my face heat up. “I mean, I just lost my ass to you after three minutes, and…I’d give it to you again. As much as you want.”

  He started opening a second condom wrapper. “You did well in this interview, Christopher,” he said, as he groped and squeezed the globes of my ass. “Welcome to Fenton University.”

  * * * *

  My parents allowed me to attend Fenton only after the university gave me a stipend on top of the scholarship. Again, Mr. Laszlo had to drive me to campus. My mother waved goodbye from the driveway. My father had a lunch he “couldn’t miss.” Meanwhile, I almost cried when I said farewell to Mr. Laszlo. He told me he’d visit often.

  I figured that getting fucked once wouldn’t be enough to pay for four years of college. Thus, I knew Mr. Kelly would be inside me often. But I was shocked when he told me that each semester it would be my responsibility to get fucked by some, possibly all, of my professors. I should have realized the Bardache Scholarship wasn’t school sanctioned and was funded in secret by participating faculty. Mr. Kelly told me to tell no one. I’d already mentioned that I’d won a scholarship to friends and family, but he didn’t have to worry about me disclosing the details. I was too embarrassed.

  There was one drawback: I couldn’t choose my own classes. Mr. Kelly acted as my advisor, handpicking my courses to satisfy my graduation requirements as well as satisfy the needs of my many “masters.” Also, I wasn’t allowed to make passes at teachers in case they weren’t “part of the program.” My predicament stunned and excited me. How many men would I have to bottom for during my college career?

  For the first week, I went to every lecture with an erection, wondering which of my professors would be in my ass. I was attracted to all of them. My econ prof, Dr. Bellamy, looked like he’d been a linebacker in college. My Spanish professor, Señor Vargas, was a dashing gray-haired god from Venezuela. Calculus, which I couldn’t believe I had to take again, was made less insufferable by Professor Landon, a handsome and amiable bearded bear. But the one who intrigued me the most was Professor Archer, my English instructor. He was short, almost as short as Mr. Kelly, and he was African-American, or more accurately, African-Caribbean, as he was from Saint Lucia. Even behind his little round glasses, I could tell he had beautiful eyelashes, and he wore thick, soft-looking cable-knit sweaters that made me want to snuggle him. His demeanor, however, let me know he was more of a drill sergeant than a cuddly professor. His angry eyes bored into any students who dared to be late, and he shouted corrections along with barbed criticism every time a classmate committed a grammar infraction during an oral presentation. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but his fury made me hard.

  My first paper was on Adrienne Rich’s “Aunt Jennifer’s Tigers,” and it received a big red “F.” There was a note: “See me today. End of office hours.”

  I showed up on time, b
ut he looked at the clock with irritation.

  “Christopher! You’re not fulfilling the requirements of a Bardache Scholar.” He closed the door behind me.

  “I’m…I’m not?”

  “You should be reporting to my office at least once a week.”

  “But I didn’t know you were part of the program.” So far the only person I saw was Mr. Kelly. I had been assigned a single room. I suspected the reason behind that was so Mr. Kelly had a place to screw me besides his office.

  “That’s no excuse. Take off your clothes.”

  It still felt surreal that I’d agreed to such a deal, but I shook off my disbelief and stripped. Before I could finish, he yanked down my underwear and grabbed my ass.

  “Excellent firmness,” he said. “Beautiful buttocks. Bend over the desk.” I did so. My dick stiffened as I expected to be lubed up and penetrated. The first crack of his hand on my buttocks shocked me. I gasped as warmth and pain radiated through my rump. He groped and squeezed my ass with strong hands, creating a delicious ache in my groin.

  “What a hot boy,” he murmured. Then he resumed punishing me, the blows raining down in quick succession, drawing an involuntary response from me. I moaned, helplessly.

  He beat me with his bare hand for several minutes. After, my ass throbbed with stinging soreness and heat, and he bent down and blew cool air on my butt. He kissed the rise of my cheeks, the contact causing me to jerk away.

  He spun me around and pressed on my shoulder until I was on my knees, my face in front of his erect cock. He was as big as Mr. Kelly. Was it a requirement to have a large dick to be on staff at Fenton?

  He pressed against my lips, and I opened my mouth to accept him. I had much less experience with oral sex than being fucked, but I knew to open wide enough so my teeth wouldn’t graze him. He seemed to know I wasn’t expert and stayed still, letting me adapt to his girth by moving my mouth back and forth down his shaft. He tasted of warm salt, and I sucked with fervor, eager to prove I deserved my scholarship. I was rewarded by a noticeable lengthening of his dick.

  “That’s good. That’s enough,” he said, pushing me off of him. “I want to come in your ass, not your mouth.” Mr. Kelly had told me to carry lube and condoms at all times. I produced them from my backpack without rising from my knees. With the practice I had during the summer with Mr. Laszlo, I was able to sheath my professor in latex while keeping him hard by kissing and fondling the shaft.

  He pushed me back to lie supine on the floor, massaging my hole with a generous amount of lube. “I can tell you like my dick, but look me in the eyes while I’m inside you.”

  I did as I was told. He watched my expression while he guided his penis into me. When he succeeded, he gave me a delighted smile. He seemed transformed from the martinet he’d been during class or during my spanking. It made me happy I’d earned kindness from him. He thrust in slowly with one hand caressing my brow and cheek.

  “Mmmm,” he purred. “You are a good bottom. Mr. Kelly chose well.”

  “Thank you, Professor Archer.” I moaned and spread my legs as wide as I could to allow him total access.

  “Do you know you are an eromenos instead of a bardache?”

  “A what? I thought the scholarship was named after a guy. Joe Bardache or whomever.”

  “No.” He licked my nipple while keeping up his slow thrusting. “‘Bardache’…is French for bottom boy, unnhh,…or young male prostitute…From, unnh,…the Arabic ‘bardaj’ meaning ‘slave.’”

  My eyes widened in alarm. “Bardache means that?”

  “Yes,” he said, nipping at my neck. “But an eromenos is not just fucked, but cared for and educated. It’s a Greek term.” His thrusts began to speed up. “I’m sorry, but this ass feels so good. I wanted to be a patient lover, but I can no longer hold back. I must ravish you with abandon. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all, sir.”

  I gasped as he began nailing my hole in earnest. He no longer looked me in the eye but watched his dick slam into me. I rolled back farther to make myself more available and vulnerable. He growled in appreciation.

  The smacking of his body against mine was almost as loud as the spanking had been. Each thrust in was so huge it pushed me backwards across the hard floor until my head began to bump the wall. That didn’t stop him. Soon his thrusts were so strong and deep that I was shouting. If there were people in the adjoining offices, there was no way they wouldn’t have heard. I was still in shock that anyone I’d told I was a Bardache Scholar—my friends, my parents—could know I was an ass slave by looking in a French dictionary. That humiliation combined with Professor Archer’s unbelievable assault made me climax so hard I shot come up to my chin. Professor Archer pushed in to the hilt, bellowing and grunting as he came inside me.

  As his orgasm subsided, he bent down to give me a fierce kiss. “I should have taken Kelly at his word,” he said, still breathing hard. “He told me it was impossible to stay quiet while screwing you. How did you get to be such a talented bottom at such a young age?”

  “I just love getting fucked.”

  “And I already know I love fucking you, but Christopher, the way you move beneath me, the way you spread your legs so wide, you’re letting your top know that you want to be treated like a whore. In addition to composition, perhaps I need to show you how to respect yourself.”

  “No thank you, sir. I want to be nailed,” I said.

  Professor Archer gave me a thoughtful look and then nodded. “Very well, then. Let’s discuss your Adrienne Rich paper. In truth, instead of an F, you deserved a B plus. Let’s review your arguments, and perhaps when you submit the Derek Walcott paper, you’ll earn an A.”

  * * * *

  I learned my father had dug through my room at home and discovered a porn magazine. It hurt that Dad had another reason to dislike me. At least I no longer had to hide. However, now I wasn’t invited home for the holidays. My mom assured me my father would get over it “eventually,” but I didn’t know what I’d do until then.

  I had made a few friends within the school’s gay alliance, but I kept my distance. I’m not great with secrets. I didn’t want to let it slip that I only studied at Fenton because the faculty and staff “get to make my ass bounce.” I was embarrassed by my predicament, but it was a hot embarrassed. What really mattered was making sure no one could reveal anything that would create a scandal and hurt my professors. Maybe this scholarship would end up leaving me feeling lonely.

  It seemed all my teachers gave me extra attention, but Professor Landon was the next to let me know I was to give up my ass to him. I loved pleasing the huge and hairy instructor. While I admired the lean frame of Professor Archer, seeing Professor Landon’s big belly made me just as horny. Still, as much as I wanted him inside me, he spent a lot more time tutoring me than fucking me. The day I found out I wasn’t invited home, he’d sat me down in his office and told me we had to have a talk.

  “Gosh, it’s bad news, isn’t it? I’ve already had some.” I explained what my father had decided.

  “Oh, Christopher,” he said in a soothing voice. “I’m so sorry. You know, of course, you can spend the holidays with me.”

  As Professor Landon put his arm around my shoulder, my mood lightened. My professors were so nice. Perhaps I wouldn’t be lonely after all.

  “But…you said there’s something you need to talk about?”

  “I never want to give up on a student, Christopher, and I know from the amount of time I’m spending with you that you’re trying your best. However, I can’t give you a grade higher than you’re earning. And so far, you’re getting a C. If you want to drop for the sake of your GPA, I’d understand.”

  I sighed. “Am I dumber than other Bardache Scholars? Am I a disappointment to you?”

  Professor Landon’s eyes softened, and he rubbed my stomach through my cotton T-shirt. “No, buddy, you please me in every way you can, and I’ve seen you try your hardest. It’s not fair to you to have to take a clas
s you’d never dream of signing up for simply because I’m a Bardache mentor.”

  “I don’t want to lose you as a teacher! I promise I’m doing better in math than before. Maybe I need to give you more than I have been since you have to spend so much time tutoring me.” I stood up to strip. Mr. Kelly had told me to make my ass as accessible as possible, so now I always wore dorm shorts that could be tugged off with one pull and no underwear. Bare-assed, I leaned over Professor Landon’s desk and arched my rump.

  Professor Landon chuckled softly and caressed my rear. “You were the right choice for this scholarship. I’ve never met such a horny little bottom.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m here to serve.”

  He pulled my shorts back up. “I tell you what. You’re doing plenty to justify your scholarship, but if you want extra credit, you can earn some tonight.” He wrote down an address and patted my butt. “Come by my house, and we’ll try to satisfy your bottomless need to bottom. For now, keep your pants on and solve these equations.”

  A few hours later a cab dropped me off at Professor Landon’s house, and when he let me in, I did a double take. He was dressed in full leather gear.

  “Strip off your clothes, handsome, and leave them in the foyer.” I was nude in moments and he led me upstairs to his bedroom. “I have good news. You will be getting to see a friend from home at Christmas. Mr. Laszlo will stay with us over the break.”

  My mood soared. “You arranged that for me?” Whoa, I saw his bedroom. It was lit by scores of candles. I shivered with pleasure when I saw ropes attached to each bedpost.

  “I was told this was your number one fantasy.”

  “It is, sir.”

  “Lie down, Christopher,” Professor Landon commanded. I did and then lifted my legs. He tied them so my ankles were suspended in mid-air. Oh, God, I was helpless to stop him from fucking me.