Peter's Gift, Part I

Two college boys' love for one another leads them to an unusual 
result.

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Peter’s Gift, Part I  --  By Eric S.  

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I pushed the swinging door open with my shoulder as my body swiftly 
took the last corner of the hall.  Release was just a few seconds 
away.  As the bright light reflected from the tiles temporarily 
blinded me, I collided with another body.  Struggling to stay 
upright, one shove was enough and the obstacle gave way.  Oh blessed 
porcelain!  As my knees gave into their buckle, my chin rested on the 
rim as eight hours worth of my first college party gushed forth into 
that cool pool of water.  The chill of the white goddess on my cheek 
gave me enough lucidity to realize that I’d just tackled another kid 
like a ton of bricks, but before my lips could register my words of 
apology another session of refunding was underway.  I felt a soft, 
gentle warmth on my forehead, a hand, a brief and fleeting salvation 
as my body tried in vane to shudder out the poison.  Another moment 
passed, and the urgency in my belly had passed.  



The humming in my ears began to subside and was replaced with a 
kindly voice, "It’ll be okay, just give it a minute."  As my rump 
slid down the hard stone of the stall wall, I looked up for the first 
time.  Another guy was standing above me, trying to keep my head from 
hitting the tile.  He was about my height, six feet or so, with a 
concerned look in his soft hazel eyes.  His dark blond hair was 
slicked back from the dampness of a recent shower, and a thick blue 
cotton robe covered his body.  "Looks like you’ve had quite a night."



"Uh-huh," was all I could manage at first.  My throat was still 
struggling to work in the right way, but I accomplished a brief grunt 
of thanks, "Thanks, buddy.  Sorry for almost mauling you on the way 
in here.  Wasn’t expecting someone in here this time of night."



"It’s okay, no harm done anyway.  I’m just glad I could help you 
out.  I’m Peter."



As I reached up to shake his hand, I realized that I was covered in 
the remnants of my night of excess.  Embarrassed, I withdrew my hand, 
but I was still greeted with Peter’s gentle smile.  "We need to clean 
you up, don’t we?"



"I… seem to have made a mess of myself.  Which building is this 
anyway?  I need to get back to the Hopper Quad so I can get out of 
this filth."



"Well, I don’t really know where Hopper is quite yet.  Sounds like 
its your first day, too."  I responded with a weak nod.  "My name is 
Kevin.  Thanks for all your help, Pete, but I really need to get back 
and sleep this off."



"I can’t just let you go out like this.  I have no idea where to take 
you, or I would.  Why don’t you crash in my room tonight.  I have an 
extra futon, but you need to wash up a bit first."  Peter stood up 
and started walking towards the door, "I’ll be right back."



Somehow, I managed to get my shirt off and half crawled to the shower 
and turned the water on.  It’s chill was a shock to my body, but I 
didn’t have the strength or the coordination to reach again for the 
hot water nozzle.  I sat there for what seemed like an eternity, cold 
water streaming over my bare chest and my soiled jeans.  My shirt was 
in a heap y the toilet.  Pete rushed in again, this time with a towel 
and another robe.  When my eyes opened again, he was unbuttoning my 
fly, then pulling my jeans and boxers down my legs.  With a final 
yank, my sneakers popped off my feet and he was rubbing a bar of soap 
over my nakedness.  I don’t remember much after that – I woke up 
about noon the next day alone in a strange room.  I was naked, but 
well covered in a warm bed, and I had a pounding headache.  My 
clothes were still damp, but fairly clean.  Pete must have rinsed 
them out the night before, but he was no where to be found.  I felt 
really uncomfortable with the situation.  After jotting out a quick 
note of thanks, I dressed quickly and got the hell out of Dodge.



**********************



I didn’t really think much about that night for the next few months.  
Classes had been hard, but fun, and I was getting pretty good 
grades.  I’d developed a number of new friends, and the social scene 
was a blast.  Things were moving so fast that I hadn’t given another 
thought to Peter and his kindness to me that night.  It was a real 
surprise when I opened my door to see him standing there with a stack 
of chemistry books in his arms.  The shock registered on his face, 
too, "Is this 201 Hopper?"  I nodded.  "Did you sign up to be a 
chemistry tutor?"  I nodded.  "Well, I’ve been assigned to you."  
That kindly smile returned to his boyish face as I motioned him in 
the door.



"It’s Pete, right?"



"Yeah, and you’re Kevin.  Nice to see you again.  Looks like you’re 
feeling a lot better than the last time."  The twinkle in his eyes 
was very endearing.  Suddenly I remembered my manners and offered him 
a seat and a coke.  He accepted both, settling in on the foot of my 
bed as I sat in the only chair in my room.



"Thanks again for your help that first week.  I don’t know if I would 
have made it without you, bud.  Hey, you in chem 103 or 104?"



"103.  And it was a pleasure."



"Alrighty, what seems to be the trouble with chemistry?  They office 
hadn’t told me you were coming, so I haven’t really prepared, but I’m 
more than willing to jump right in."



"If you wouldn’t mind, Kevin, I really need to start at the very 
beginning.  I’m so lost with this stuff.  You know, I’m pre-med, but 
I get spooked by all these chem requirements."  The concern was 
obvious in his eyes as he glanced over a syllabus and handed it to me.



"Alrighty, let’s start at the beginning."



Thus began our relationship as tutor and student and our friendship.  
Pete came to my room every Sunday night for a study session and would 
often return two or three other nights of the week to study, hang 
out, or just talk.  As we got to know each other better, I began to 
have more and more uncomfortable feelings about the relationship.  I 
had had a girlfriend for a few weeks, but I found myself wanting to 
kiss Pete every time that special twinkle crossed his gentle eyes.  
What did this mean?  When I was in high school, I had a crush on one 
of my buddies, but that was just a phase, so I ignored my feelings 
and went on with the friendship.  I’d started to really care about 
Pete as buddy, and I didn’t want to do anything stupid to jeopardize 
that relationship.



Everything continued as planned until one cold December night.  It 
was about 3 AM, and I was stretched out on the bed watching TV in 
nothing but a pair of sweat pants when the rapid knock came at my 
door.  When I answered it, a frazzled looking Peter was standing 
there is a snow covered coat.  "Kevin, thank God.  I don’t know what 
I’m going to do.  Tomorrow is the second midterm and I’ve got no clue 
about this stuff.  Can you please help me?"



"Of course, come on in, settle down, and let’s just take it one step 
at the time."  I clicked off he TV and we both plopped down on my bed 
and began to spread out his study sheets.  Peter looked frantic, 
almost on the verge of tears.  I’d never seen him like this before.  
The stress of doing well to get on the pre-med track was really 
getting to him.  "Take it easy, dude.  You’ll be fine, let’s just 
work a few problems and it’ll all work out.   Hang on a sec., I need 
to take a quick leak."  I jumped up and took a quick trip down the 
hall.  When I returned, Peter was pacing in my room.  As I walked in, 
I immediately noticed the wet streaks on his cheeks.  "What’s wrong, 
Peter?  Come here and sit down."



"I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Kev.  I’ve been so preoccupied.  
I can’t concentrate."  I walked around the foot of the bed and put my 
hands on his shoulders and began to rub softly but firmly.  "Just 
relax, Pete.  This stressing out will cause more trouble than it will 
solve."  After a few minutes, Peter’s eyes closed and he seemed to 
relax a little bit, but my heart was racing.  But I settled myself 
down and sat next to him and began to start organizing a study 
session.  Before I knew it, Peter’s head was on my shoulder and he 
was sobbing.  All I could do was hug and rock him gently.  I brushed 
the hair out of his eyes, "What’s really wrong, Peter?  This isn’t 
like you.  Last night you knew this stuff backwards and forwards."  
As he looked up into my eyes, I could feel his face moving closer to 
mine, but it all seemed like slow motion.  Butterflies filled my 
stomach as his lips touched mine.  That sweet first kiss – innocent, 
just lips brushing.  I must have pulled back a little, because Peter 
jumped up off the bed and started gathering his things together.



"I am such an idiot, Kevin.  I am so sorry."  He looked like he was 
about to crack, tears welling in his eyes.  



"What are you sorry for?"



"I just got really confused.  I am so sorry.   It’s just that….  I am 
so stupid."  Then it flooded out.   "It’s just that that first night, 
in the shower, you were….  I mean I misinterpreted things.  I should 
have known you were straight, and that that kiss was just because you 
were so drunk, but you got excited when we kissed then.  So I 
thought… but I was wrong."  He rushed for the door, but I caught his 
arm and pulled him towards me.



I just hugged him hard, nuzzling my nose into the soft hairs on his 
neck.  The sweet scent of his body filled my nostrils and I gently 
began to kiss his neck.  His stiff body relaxed against mine as his 
arms wrapped around my back.  As my hand slid up into his hair, our 
lips met again, but this time, a brush became an embrace.  I 
tentatively probed his mouth with my tongue and Peter moaned softly.



He dropped his backpack, and we sat on the bed once again.  As I 
looked into his eyes, I began to unbutton his shirt.  His finger 
played in the light hair on my chest and stomach.  Once his shirt was 
hanging on the post of the bed, I pulled him close and began to trace 
kisses over his neck and bare shoulders.  The taste of his skin was 
pure pleasure, and I could resist licking and kissing all over his 
chest.  But as soon as I could sate my taste for his skin, my mouth 
returned to his, this time fully engaging his tongue with my own.  A 
sensuous slippery sliding of wet muscle against muscle.  I laid back 
on the bed and pulled him on top of me.  We kissed passionately for 
what seemed like hours as my finger traced every inch of his torso.  
Soon, Peter’s hips began to move against me ever so slightly but 
building with a biological urgency.



I slipped my hands under the waistband of his jeans and felt the firm 
round orbs of his butt covered with soft peach fuzz.  My hands added 
pressure to his thrusts.  As my fingers traced his crack, a quick 
moan escaped his mouth as his humping ceased.  His body became 
completely relaxed as I felt a wet warmth wick through the cloth 
separating our bodies.



"I’m sorry.  I’ve never done this before." He rolled off of me and 
looked deeply into my eyes.  He was honestly sorry, but the stress 
was gone.  "No worries.  It’s my first time, too."  I pulled him 
close to me, and  as I began to play with his armpit hair, I planted 
another kiss on his lips.  "Peter, it feels really right to be with 
you.  Tell me what happened that first night."



"Well, when I was washing you up, you got hard.  And you kissed me.  
These two guys walked in on us and before I knew it, you were passed 
out again.  I practically had to drag you back to my room.  You were 
out cold, so I put you on the bed and slept on the futon."  After a 
moment’s hesitation, he finished, "I have wanted you ever since that 
night.  It was my first kiss.  Every night that I’ve walked home from 
your room, I’ve dreamed of giving myself to you completely."



Again, I snuggled against his warm body, tracing the wet spot on his 
jeans.  "I’ve wanted to be with you for a long time, Pete.  Now 
there’s nothing standing between us.  Except these," I said as I 
rubbed the denim.  I leaned forward and began to lick his chest as I 
unzipped the jeans and pushed them down.  By the time my mouth had 
reached the waistband of his boxers, his hard cock was poking out of 
the flap and was slick with what was left of his cum.  I took a deep 
breath and licked that slippery coating off his head.  The sweet 
salty taste of his seed made me hunger for his cock itself.  I took 
it in my mouth and sucked firmly while licking around the flange of 
Pete’s glans.  Before my head had bobbed five times, I felt a flush 
of thick warm liquid spurt into my mouth.  Peter moaned while I 
luxuriated in the taste and silky feel of cum and cock on my tongue.  
After swallowing, I slipped up to kiss him on the mouth.



"Kevin, will you cum inside me?  I want to sleep tonight feeling you 
deep inside me.  I love you."  I guess this should have been a red 
flag, but I wanted to cum badly, and those warm cheeks were very 
appealing.  I nodded to Peter as I stripped off his shoes, jeans, and 
boxers.  I stood up quickly and dropped my sweat pants to the floor, 
and my penis jumped to the upright position.  I slipped back onto the 
bed and prompted Pete to roll over on his stomach.  I stroked my 
hands down his smooth back and followed them with kisses.  When my 
fingers reached his crack, I spread it open and began to lick the 
soft blond hairs within.  When my tongue reached his hole, it first 
trailed little circles around the pucker.  Pressing harder and 
harder, the tip of my tongue opened his hole and pressed deeply 
within.  With a lot of licking and spit, I finally had Peter ready to 
make a try at fucking.  This was our first time at this, so I took it 
slow.  Pressing gently at first, then firmly as my head began to open 
him.  Once the muscle gave way, my cock slid inside him.  Pete was 
clearly moaning with intense pleasure, but the whiteness of his 
knuckles gave me pause.  I allowed his ass to get used to the 
presence of my member as I kissed his back and tweaked his nipples.



After about five minutes, I began to slowly pump my hips against his 
butt.  The tightness and suction of his ass was so intense that I 
almost shot after the first few humps, but I was able to hold back, 
if just barely.  Exerting all of my control, I could only manage 
about five more minutes before I shot my load into his body.



**************************************



Our life together had begun.  For all practical purposes, Peter moved 
into my room and we lived as lovers giving ourselves to each other 
three or four times a day.  We quickly became so close that we could 
even finish each others thoughts.  We were truly in love, and for the 
first time in my life, I felt complete.



After about six weeks, though, I began to feel that Peter was 
unsatisfied in some way.  A certain anxiousness had returned to his 
demeanor.  I was hesitant to raise the issue until he was ready to 
share it with me, but I finally concluded that I had to broach the 
subject.  Three nights before Peter’s birthday, we were making love, 
when Peter stopped, somewhat exasperated.  I asked, "What’s wrong, 
sweets?"



"You deserve better than what I can give you, Kevin."



"Why do you say that?"



"I’m a sick bastard, and I can’t even keep from cumming for more than 
a minute.  You can’t possibly enjoy being with me.  I can’t give you 
what other people can."



"Peter, listen to me, you give me everything I need.  I love you and 
enjoy being with you in every way.  I doesn’t bother me that you 
don’t last very long.  It just means that I get to enjoy giving you 
pleasure more often, and I really do enjoy it.  You give me YOU, and 
no one else can give me that."



Peter shrugged off my comments and we settled into sleep, but I was 
still uneasy.  On his birthday, after we’d gone out for dinner, we 
came back home.  I had a romantic evening planned, and the birthday 
boy got to choose what we’d do special for his special day.



"Kevin, do you really love me?"  

"Of course I do."

"Would you promise me something?"

"Anything, sweets."



"Promise me that if I ask you to play out a fantasy of mine, you 
won’t get freaked out."



"I promise, what’s the fantasy."  This had certainly piqued my 
interest, but I was certainly unprepared for what was about to come.



"Kevin, I’ve been practicing trying to last longer when we make love, 
and I think I’ve been making a real improvement.   But it involves 
thinking about a particular fantasy."



"Alrighty, we can sure try it out if you think it will make you feel 
better about our love making.  I’ll do anything to make you happy, 
Peter.  Tell me about what you have in  mind."



"Well, it’s very odd….  I don’t quite know how to put it."



"Just tell me, Pete, it’ll be fine whatever it is."



"I think about you taking my penis."



"You mean sucking or fucking?"



After a long pause, "No, I mean taking as in cutting it off."  After 
another long pause, "I can last longer if I have the fantasy in my 
mind that it will be my last time to ever cum.  I want to make the 
most of my last, ultimate orgasm."



I was taken aback, and I’m sure that I appeared freaked out to Peter 
because he immediately began to crawl into himself.  The silence was 
deafening.  I truly had no idea what to say – this was the weirdest 
thing I had ever heard.  I mean I could at least understand some 
other fetishes even though I might not enjoy them myself, but this 
fantasy seemed just too far out to comprehend.



"I love you, Peter.  I can’t say that I understand why you have this 
fantasy, but I want to make you happy.  If you want to try it out, 
I’m willing to give it a shot.  Have you given any thought to the 
specifics of the fantasy?"



"I’ve thought a lot about it recently, and I’ve had a lot of ideas.  
The one I find most exciting is that you force me to give my cock to 
you as compensation for my incompetence in bed.  You tell me that I’m 
not worthy of having a cock, or that my cock is worthless to me 
anyway.  But that you want it for your own, not just figuratively, 
but physically.  You want to make me your eunuch lover so you won’t 
have to worry about my worthless cock any more."



"You know I don’t feel that way.  I love your penis and the pleasure 
it gives you."



"Kevin, it’s just a fantasy, just a tool for making our sex better."



I nodded. " Alrighty, let’s try it."



From that day on, we role played Peter’s fantasy at least several 
times a week, and it really seemed to work for a while.  But the more 
we role played it, the less effective it was at controlling Pete’s 
problem.  After two months of this,  Peter wanted the fantasy every 
time we made love, and it was practically useless to extend his 
orgasms.  Things became more serious about a week later – Peter 
couldn’t cum at all without the fantasy.  It was like an addiction.  
Penectomy became the entire focus of his sexual life.  He was 
becoming more and more depressed about our sex life and our life 
together.  I could feel him slipping away day by day.



Things came to a head when I returned from class one day to find that 
Peter had left his e-mail account active.  By accident (at least 
consciously by accident), I noticed that most of his e-mail was to an 
account named COCKSLICER.  I know I shouldn’t have, but I opened an 
read a number of these messages and became quite alarmed.  Peter had 
confided in his cutter friend that he had decided to kill himself and 
that he was already making arrangements for doing the deed.  He had 
bought a knife and was going to drive out of town, pop his tires, 
walk into the woods, cut off his dick, and bleed to death.  With no 
way to get back to town for medical care, Peter would surely die from 
such a self inflicted wound.



Once I had read these messages, I searched Peter’s drawers and found 
a brand new hunting knife.  What could I do?  I was frantic.  Should 
I call the hospital and have him committed to the psych ward?  Should 
I just throw away the knife and hope he wouldn’t have the resolve to 
get another?  Should I confront him?  None of these alternatives 
seemed workable.  I knew that I would lose him if I followed any of 
these paths – and if I lost him, it would eventually mean he’d take 
his own life.



With this realization, an idea began to form itself in my mind.  
There was only one option left to me.  It was distasteful to me, but 
I had no choice.  Something had to be done.  I hid the knife in a box 
of old high school notes and went about making my plan.  It was 
essential, though, that Peter not catch wind of my plan to save him.



*********************************************************



Another week passed, and my birthday had finally come.  Peter had 
been at class and then work all afternoon, but I had been preparing.  
At the foot of my bed, I had a new black gym bag filled with the 
required items.  When Peter arrived, I would be ready.  I turned the 
lights off and waited to hear the click of a key in the lock.



When it finally came, my heart was nearly pounding out of my chest.  
I stood silently behind the door, and waited for Peter to enter the 
room.  Quickly, I had him in a headlock covering his mouth with my 
arm.  I whispered in his ear, "It’s Kevin, don’t resist me."  With 
that his struggle stopped, but Peter said nothing.  I led him to the 
bed and began to pull six leather straps from the bag.  In the 
twilight of early evening, I strapped his arms and legs to the posts 
of the bed and used the remaining straps to secure his chest and 
stomach motionless to the bed.



I pulled out a gag and slipped it into and over Peter’s mouth.  "I 
love you," I whispered to him.  "I love you, but it’s time you give 
me what I need.  I need you to be happy, and you can’t be happy the 
way things are now.  There’s something standing between you and 
happiness, and that same something stands between me and what I 
want.  Will you give me this small gift for my birthday?"  He nodded 
his head emphatically.  "Peter, do you want to cum one last time?"  
Again he nodded, but weakly.



I settled myself between his spread eagle legs and began to kiss and 
lick his thighs, working my way to the base of his balls. Sucking, 
licking, and kissing, I ceremonially cleaned every square inch of his 
body.  When I returned to his crotch, I sucked Peter’s balls into my 
mouth one at the time, then both together, rolling them with my 
tongue.  Then I moved my lips to the head of his rigidly erect 
penis.  I whispered, "This is mine now, and I thank you, Peter, but I 
will allow you to use it for pleasure one last time."  With that I 
sucked the glans into my mouth and began to nibble, lick and suck it 
from every angle.  Tracing circles with my tongue, then working 
crisscross patterns over his piss slit, then grinding my teeth gently 
behind the head.  Before I knew it, over an hour had passed, and 
Peter’s body was covered with sweat.  The room was filled with the 
scent of his body and smell of precum which flowed freely from his 
member the whole time.  It was then that I began to deep throat his 
cock, pumping it with my mouth with firm suction, circling his shaft 
with my tongue and lips, working his head with the rippling muscles 
of my throat.  As I began to feel Peter’s nuts pulling toward his 
body, I began to stroke his cock vigorously with my fist while 
working the head again with my tongue, lips, and teeth.  As my hand 
and mouth began to cramp from the continuous love making, I felt 
Peter’s body begin to pulse with pleasure and I heard soft moans 
escape around his gag.  When the first spurt exploded into my mouth, 
it did so with such force that it nearly choked me.  Wave after wave 
of rich semen then rolled over my tongue as I applied a constant firm 
suction, swallowing each stream that pulsed from his cock.  His 
spurts lasted nearly a minute.  Once they subsided, his body was 
slack – like a rag doll.



I tightened the straps holding Peter to the bed and checked the gag 
again for fit.  Whispering "thank you" I propped up his head with 
pillow so he could watch what I was doing.  I again opened the black 
bag and pulled out a large bottle of antiseptic, a twelve inch rigid 
plastic catheter,  two lengths of thin gauge tourniquet rubber, and 
Peter’s hunting knife.  I turned on a small flashlight with the beam 
directed just at Peter’s crotch – the only light in the now pitch-
black room.   Immediately I began to swab the area from his navel to 
his knees with the antiseptic solution, then I opened the sterile 
envelop containing the catheter.



Peter’s cock had regained its hardness almost immediately when I 
began to clean his crotch.  I had elected not to shave him since his 
letters to the cyber cutter said he wanted to keep the signs of his 
masculinity during the taking, but the area had to be clean.  I don’t 
know if it was my rough scrubbing or the excitement of what was about 
to happen, but Peter was like a rock.  I began to insert the 
catheter, and it was difficult at first, but I quickly reached the 
bladder.  Next, I took one length of rubber and began to stretch it 
tightly around the base of Peter’s penis.  I left him about two of 
his seven erect inches.  I quickly tied the second length of rubber 
about another inch from the base.



In his letter, Peter had expressed a desire to feel the pain of the 
process, but I wanted to make sure, so I gave him the choice of 
whether to wait for the penis to die and numb.  He shook his head 
vigorously – he wanted to experience the pain for having his penis 
taken.  I whispered, "You’ll probably pass out, Peter, but I’ll abide 
by your wishes.  After all you are giving me this gift, you should 
choose the method of its delivery."  Taking the knife in my hand, I 
quickly began to incise a circle around the shaft of Peter’s penis 
between the two strips of rubber.  The flow of blood was minimal, but 
Peter’s body shook with intense pain as I completed the circuit.  He 
didn’t pass out, but tears streaked his cheeks.  I firmly grasped the 
head of Peter’s penis and slowly pulled it along the now excess 
length of catheter.  Peter’s eyes grew as large as saucers as the 
severed end cleared the plastic tube and I laid the penis on his 
chest.  I immediately injected the stump with a strong local 
anesthetic and injected his arm with a general, long lasting 
painkiller.



As I removed the gag, I slipped into the bed next to Peter and 
snuggled into his body.  Both of us stared at the still hard penis 
laying on his chest……..





END PART I