A Man and his fag 2*,*
by fatsow
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M/m, Humil.
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Disclaimer: The story is fictionalised, contains descriptions of sex and is here for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY. If you are not an adult, stop reading. If reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, read no further. If you read further, you accept that you wilfully gained access to this material, that you are an adult aged 21 years old or older and that this story does not offend the standards or violate any law in your area.
The fag had arrived a couple of days before. It had let the Master know it would be coming, but the Master had said that he might be away. Despite this, the fag had texted the Master as soon as it reached its hotel. In the meantime, though the fag had heard nothing, it had kept its phone on 24/7, in its pocket or on its bedside table, just in case. The fag knew it was the Master's property and that it existed to serve the Master whenever the Master wished. So its phone was on, in case the Master called.
This morning it was strolling through the town square, browsing through shops, looking at souvenirs. Suddenly it heard its phone ringing. Heart pounding, the fag scrabbled to get its phone out. It answered the phone.
"Morning faggot." said a familiar voice.
"Morning Master." replied the fag, wondering if anyone had heard it, but it didn't really matter if they had.
"Where are you faggot?" the Master asked. The fag explained. The Master told him the name of a Metro station and the line to go on. He told the fag to repeat the information. The fag did.
"Good," said the Master, "phone me when you get there. I expect to hear from you in 20 minutes." The line went dead. The fag looked round, puzzling the quickest way to the nearest station, then set off. At the station, the fag bought a single, caught the train, and sat down, its cock stirring in its pants. Twenty minutes later it emerged into the daylight and phoned the Master.
"Good," said the Master, "go uphill and I'll meet you." The fag set off. It had no idea where it was. It had never been there before. In previous meetings the fag had shown the Master to its hotel room. This time the Master had simply given the name of a station. The fag walked slowly up the steep hill.
After a while it saw a familiar figure turning the corner in front. The figure stopped. The fag walked up to the figure, bowed its head, and croaked "Hello Master". The Master grinned.
"Hello faggot." he said. Then he ordered "Follow me". It followed the Master to a cafe and they sat down. One was young, slender and fit. The other was older and fatter. The younger one, the Master, ordered a coffee for the fat sow and a large fruit juice for himself. When the drinks arrived, the Master looked at the fruit juice and smiled.
When they had finished, the Master stood up, paid and walked out. The fag followed. It had to. It was property. It was owned. Property should be with its owner. The Master strode on, turned a couple of corners, then stopped.
"My flat is upstairs." he said. Then he unlocked the front door and went in. The fag followed as the Master climbed the stairs. The Master paused outside a flat door, unlocked it and went in. The fag followed and closed the door behind it. The Master was waiting in the living room.
As the fag entered, the Master turned round to look at it. The fag stopped in the doorway. And started to undress. As the fag stripped naked, the Master grinned. When it was naked, the fag kneeled and crawled over to the Master's feet. There it bowed its head to the floor, bowed down to worship the Master.
"Thank you Master. Thank you for giving your faggot the opportunity to serve you again Master. Thank you Master." it babbled.
"You're welcome faggot." he replied. "You will have plenty of time to serve today. I will fuck your face hard. As hard as I want. When I want." he added.
"Yes Master, thank you Master", the fag replied.
"And I will rape you. As hard as I want. When I want." he went on.
"Yes Master, thank you Master", said the fag.
"And, if I want, you will stay here overnight." finished the Master.
"Yes Master thank you Master", said the fag again, confirming its total servility to its Owner.
"Up" said the Master. The fag looked up. The Master had taken his jacket off. His slender, wiry body was silhouetted against the window. He put a hand on his waistband. The fag could see the outline of a bulge in the Master's jeans. He looked up at the Master. The Master slowly unbuttoned his jeans. He had no underwear on and so his cock sprang out. A beautiful cock, an almost painfully perfect cock to look at.
"You may kiss it." said the Master. The fag did not hesitate. It raised its head to the cock and kissed it, gently, longingly, reverentially. "Good." said the Master. And then he walked away. He walked to the sofa and sat down, stroking his cock. The fag crawled towards him and as it reached him, he raised one foot.
"Clean it." ordered the Master. "I want to see it shine." The fag looked at the trainer, took hold of the heel, gently raised the foot and started to lick. It licked the sides, the front, the top. Long, slow loving licks, up and down and side to side.
"Don't you want to clean it all, faggot?" asked the Master.
"Your faggot wants to do whatever Master wants it to do." replied the fag.
"NO!" snarled the Master. "Do you WANT to lick the sole?"
"Yes Master. Your faggot wants and needs to lick the sole clean." answered the fag.
"Good. I want to see it shine too." added the Master.
The fag put its face under the trainer and licked. Licked the dirt off the trainer. Swallowed the dirt that its tongue had brushed off. Cleaned the trainer. Polished the trainer. Then the fag did the whole thing all over again with the other trainer, its tongue licking every crack and corner until the Master pulled his foot away.
He loosened the laces of both trainers then put both feet back down. The fag knew what it had to do and took the Master's trainers off. Immediately the smell of the Master's socks hit its nose. They didn't smell like they were fresh on that morning.
"You like the smell of my socks, scum?" asked the Master.
"Yes Master, thank you Master", replied the fag.
"Good," said the Master, "you can taste them as well."
"Thank you Master." said the fag and then it licked the nearest sock. Long, slow, loving strokes of the tongue. The fabric tasted of sweat. Man sweat. Master's sweat. Then it sucked on the big toe and slowly squeezed the front of the foot into its mouth and as it did so the Master pushed his foot in, filling the fag's mouth. The fag sucked on the sock until the Master pulled his foot away. Then the fag got to work on the other sock. And the fag kept on sucking until the socks were soggy.
"The socks, faggot" he said and the fag removed the Master's socks. "Good." said the Master, "Now you may clean my feet. And don't forget to clean in between the toes."
"Yes Master, thank you Master", the fag replied. It suckled on the Master's big toe, then slowly sucked on every toe in turn, stretching its tongue down the sides of each, removing the dirt between each toe. Then it did the same to the other foot. It took the foot into its mouth and again the Master pushed. A little harder this time and the foot went deep into the fag's mouth.
The Master left it there a while, then swapped feet. When he was satisfied his feet were clean the Master lifted them, allowing the fag to lick the soles. After a bit the Master put his feet on the fag's shoulders and the fag crawled towards the Master. The Master relaxed, feet on his fag stool, and switched on his laptop. The fag could hear the keyboard rattle and the sound of messages coming in, but had no idea of what was happening.
"Faggot. Balls." snapped the Master, uncrossing his legs. The faggot raised its head, saw the Master stroking his cock and his balls surrounded by the Master's perfect bush. Instantly it was reminded of its status. The Master had a wonderful bush but the fag's pubes were shaved. The Master was a man, the fag was a thing. It reached its mouth up and began to lick the Master's balls. It licked up and down. It licked side to side.
"Mouth." snapped the Master and the fag took first one ball then the other into its mouth and sucked on them gently. Meanwhile the Master continued typing.
Suddenly the Master stood up. He stopped stroking his cock and instead pointed it at the fag's mouth. The fag opened its mouth and the Master rammed his cock in, hard, fast and deep. The fag had no time to react as the Master removed his cock and plunged in again, grabbing the fag's ears, pulling the fag's throat over his cock and then fucking its face hard as he held the fag's head still. The fag knelt still, arms by its sides, snatching breaths when it could as the Master pounded its throat.
Eventually the Master pulled out and aimed his cock at the fag's face. He stroked it a few times. As the cum burst out, the Master leant back and let go of his cock. Cum squirted everywhere. Over the fag's face and hair. Over the Master's belly and body. Over the floor. The Master looked down, panting, at the fag.
"Clean up this mess." he ordered.
The fag got to work. It licked the floor. It licked the Master's beautiful bush, then his belly and up higher still to reach every drop and lick it clean.
When it had finished, the Master sat down and said, "The cock, faggot." The fag returned to the cock. The Master squeezed his foreskin. The fag gratefully licked up the cum that came out, then slowly slipped its lips over the cock and gently sucked on it.
This story is copyright 2012 by fatsow. You may download and keep a copy for personal use if the author's byline and this paragraph remain on the copy. Please do not post this story to any other web site without the author's permission. All other rights reserved. No alteration of the contents is permitted. Feedback is welcome. Flames are ignored. fatsow can be reached at the address on this story.