It really happened to me. A few years ago. I was sharing a place with some girl. She was looking for a roommate, I took a look at the place and moved in. To save up money on rent. And yes, I was one of those morons sending dick pics to random girls, or women across the internet. I did it through some fake accounts. And you can imagine, until now, it never worked out. Not even once. I only got blocked, banned or reported. But stupid as I was, I didn’t give up. I only perfected the art of taking a dick pick. I was hunting the perfect one. By using my phone. And storing them all.

One day, my roommate called. She was out doing some shopping. And forgot her list for groceries at home. That damn thing was on the kitchen counter. She asked me to take a picture of it and send it to her over the phone. I just did as she said. Yes, I was raised that way. To do as told, and to help others when they needed it. You could say I am a good boy by nature, or at least my parents, mostly my mom, turned me into one.

So I went over to the picture, snapped a pick in camera mode and opened up my messenger app: Without thinking to much I loaded a picture into it and send it of to my roommate. Probably with some caption like “If you need something else, drop a message.”

A few seconds later a message came back: “Maybe later, but for now, can you sent me the list?”

At first I was confused. But then I realized, I nearly collapsed, had a panic attack as I found out that I sent her a pick of my rock hard cock. I had to breath in and out slowly. To regain myself. Than I sent her the right picture, captioned: Sorry, wrong pic. She just sent back a big twinkling smiley. I wasn’t sure what to do after that. Should I head off to some friend. Or hide myself in my room. Or play it cool, as if nothing has ever happened?

I decided to go to my room. And play it cool. Tow out of three, so to say. But when I heard her coming back home, I just went nuts. Panic attack. A tough one. And it got worse. She called me to come over and help her putting away the groceries. Well, that good boy thing, and the fact that she brought some stuff for me with her, made going over into the kitchen.

After entering the kitchen, my roommate looked at me. With a strange smile on her face. She looked at me from tip to toe. In the end, she stopped at the bulge between my legs. Just stared at it. With a lusty stare. I tried to ignore her as good as I could. Went over and started to put away the groceries. Until I heard a strict voice from behind: “Haven’t you sent me something? Be a good boy. Show me the real thing.”

My heart stopped beating for a while. And I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming. A dream I never had before. Or it admit it, maybe once, or twice. Who counts that anyways. Again, a harsh voice from behind: “I don’t have to repeat myself, don’t I?”

“No, you have not.”

So I turned around, my face, just out of pure embarrassment, more purple than anything else. My body was trembling: Excitement, fear and I don’t know what. She was standing there, unimpressed, cold as a rock: “I am waiting. Drop your pants.”

And I did as ordered. I dropped my pants. And was standing in the middle of the kitchen, with a naked lower half of my body, my balls and my cock dangling in front of me. No, I had no hard one. My roommate just kept on starring. In my face. At my cock and my balls: “Play with it. Make it hard. Be a good boy.”

And I did as told. Rubbed my penis. Squeezed my balls. While she was watching. Just watching. I took me a while to get hard. She waited patiently: “Now, shoot out a big messy load for mommy. Do it. Fast”

I went on, rubbing my dick fast and hard with one hand, squeezing my balls really hard with the other one. I worked hard to get out a big and nasty load. As fast as possible. And finally, I came. I came a lot. A big and nasty load shot towards my roommate. Drew a straight line between me and her. Lots of nasty sticky cum juice on the floor. She smiled. A big relieved satisfied smile: “Now be a good boy and clean up your mess.”

I was heading over to the kitchen sink, looking for some cleaning cloth, but she stopped me, with her commanding voice: “No. Down with you. Use your tongue to clean up your filth.”

Disgust filled me. Licking up my own sperm. My belly felt strange. She got angry: “Do it, now. On your knees.”

And I am not sure if I was afraid of her, or if I did it because I just was used to follow orders, I got down on all my fours and began to lick up my own sperm. With disgust. Probably visible on my face. Mom, meanwhile bowed down to be able to still watch my face, just went on: “Enjoy it. Enjoy cleaning up your filthy juice.”

And I tried to put up a happy face. Tried to enjoy the taste of my own sperm in my mouth. And no I hadn’t swallowed anything after I was finished cleaning up. Not a single drop. Naturally, my roommate took notice of it. She ordered me to get on my knees with the rest of my body standing straight. Than she came over to me. Ordered me to look up. Placed her face over mine. Placed her mouth over mine. Told me to open up my mouth. Dropped a big load of spit into my wide opened mouth: “Swallow. Enjoy your drink. Do it, like every other good boy does.”
I swallowed it all. Resisted the urge to puke kept it down there. A minute of silence later, she began talking again: “Now, dress yourself again. And put away the groceries. A friend of mine will be here soon. I take a shower, then I’ll cook dinner. You get a portion, for being a good boy.”

And she left to the bathroom. I stayed in the kitchen, my head still going crazy because of the stuff that has happened minutes before, and put away the groceries. Than I went to my room, just sitting in there, trying to comprehend what has been happening to me. What my roommate has done to me. And boy, if I tell you, it just was the beginning of a great adventure.