Chapter 14 – Adventures of Fag Dad
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Please check out my other Nifty.org stories:
Born https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/born/ Dad Likes to Watch https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/dad-likes-to-watch Downward Spiral of Jim http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/downward-spiral-of-jim Growing Up Naked http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/growing-up-naked/ Naked Whore http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/naked-whore Put Out to Pasture http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/put-out-to-pasture Santa's Slave Training http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/santas-slave-training Special Product Design http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/special-product-design The Trunk http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-trunk
Chapter 14
The boss wondered the rest of the day what was going to happen. Mr. Sinclair was obviously going to do more to him, but what?
The boss was so turned on that he had to sit at his desk without a break because his cock was dripping so badly. While this had not occurred to the boss, because he's not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, he hadn't thought of Paul all day. His mind became absorbed and obsessed with Mr. Sinclair.
Five o'clock came. The boss got up from his desk walked out of the office to the standard waiting car. Out of nowhere Mr. Sinclair walked up behind him and whispered in his ear, "Take your clothes off and get in the car."
He thought nothing of stripping naked on the street corner before getting into the car. Mr. Sinclair asked. He obeyed. That would be his story the rest of his useful existence.
Remember slaves have an expiration date. Some slaves expire early because of poor treatment or mental attitude. Those typically end up on the streets or in mental institutions or dead.
Others last longer because of their skill level, good looks and proper care. Slaves are like an automobile. With proper maintenance they can last 20-years and 300,000 miles depending on how well built they were originally. Others barely make it 10-years and 80,000 miles. Or they crash and are thrown in the dump for recycling. Then there are classic models that are cleaned up and put in museums or private collections for Sunday enjoyment.
Rare is the slave that enters that status just as for every million cars maybe 20 become collector items.
Unlike cars, slaves age as if they were human beings. So a car can be repainted and polished and look pretty good.
Eventually a slave will be ugly and old no matter how much care is taken. Most will end up in the crusher. A few will be allowed to wither under the Master's care.
The boss, while not smart, knew how to obey; knew how to take care of his body. Luckily he would be Mr. Sinclair's slave. And Mr. Sinclair knew how to properly handle a fag.
The driver was only slightly taken aback by a full grown, handsome man naked in the back seat of his car.
"Sir, where are we going? I was told to take him to this house." The driver asked Mr. Sinclair.
"That's still the plan, driver. Take him and me to the original location ordered. Now fag sniff my crotch all the way there."
The boss slowly, deliberately lowered his head to just above Mr. Sinclair's crotch. He knew better than to touch. He was only supposed to breathe in the intoxication of his Sir.
When they arrived at Paul and Joe's home Mr. Sinclair said, "Fold your clothes. Get out. Walk two steps behind me with clothes in hand."
Once again the boss was naked in public. The neighbors were used to this daily act. In fact, one of the neighbors would secretly jack off peering out the window at this Monday-Friday show.
Mr. Sinclair rang the doorbell. Joe answered naked of course. "Hello Sir. Who are you?"
"The name is Sinclair. I'm this fag's new boss. I've come to speak to your Master if his is available."
"Sir. He is not here at the moment; however, he will be home for dinner. Won't you come in?"
Joe was beside himself. He started to get hard at the sight of Mr. Sinclair. He felt so ashamed for getting aroused. What about Paul? Would Paul be upset with him? Mr. Sinclair just smiled that knowing smile of a master.
Mr. Sinclair told the boss to go to his cage. The boss was disappointed that one more time he was alone and naked in the basement. He kept thinking. I just want to serve; yet, they keep me down here. Joe gets to be a servant and slave. I'm just an object.
There is nothing worse than a sulking slave. Mr. Sinclair noticed that look on the boss's face. This would not do, but he would take care of that later. He wanted the fag to sulk and feel his feelings. That way he would learn the art of fag patience. Mr. Sinclair also knew that the boss was an easy mind fix. Within short order, Mr. Sinclair would make sure that the boss' mind lost all feelings and only became useful for movement and service.
"Mr. Sinclair, may I get you a drink?"
"Yes. I'll have a scotch, neat."
Joe came back with the drink and a light snack. Joe didn't exactly know what to do with all this. He was going to have to have conversation with this powerful man. Mr. Sinclair reassured.
"Joe. It's ok. It's ok that you got hard. It's ok that your mind is racing a little seeing me. I have that effect on faggots. Your master will understand. You are not being disloyal."
"Thank you Sir. May I ask why you are here?"
"I've come to ask you master if I can take the fag in the basement as mine."
Joe was thrilled to hear this but didn't not express it in his face or voice. Joe didn't particularly like the boss being in the basement. There was some jealously because Paul had not put Joe down there.
The newness of ordering the boss around was gone. Joe would love to see him depart.
Joe heard the garage door open. Paul was home. Not a moment too soon. Joe excused himself from Mr. Sinclair. He walked to the door to the garage, knelt down and waited. He was hard as he always knowing that his Master was home.
Paul opened the door and smiled at his love and slave. "Hey Joe. Good boy. Get up now and give me a kiss."
Joe stood up. Their lips met. Paul took his big arms and enveloped Joe with his body. Joe was dripping and got some pre-cum on Paul's pants.
"Sir. There is a gentleman here to see you about the thing in the basement."
"Oh?"
"Yes Sir. Please allow me to introduce to you Mr. Sinclair."
The shook hands and sat down.
Joe asked, "Can I get you anything Sir?" "Get me a water. Then work on dinner. Our guest will be staying."
"Yes Sir."
It was all Joe could do not to beat off in the kitchen after being in a room with such powerful men. This was going to be an interesting evening.
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