First, the disclaimers. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, Copyright 2010. The narrative that follows did not happen to me or to anyone else I know. The characters in the story, like myself, are all of legal age. Don't contact Me to meet these slaves. DO contact Me if you want to become one of these slaves. Also contact me with any praise, criticism, or suggestions. All feedback is good.
Fagboy & Fagdad - Part 15
The fagboy Ryan came back home Saturday evening, to what was now his Master's home, finding a lot going on. Everyone had apparently already eaten and Sirs Mitchell and Duncan were getting ready to go out for the night. "We're hanging out at the frat, then going out with a few of the guys lookin' to get laid. When we get home you can clean off our dicks," Sir Duncan sneered. Master was putting something together in the garage and the fagdad seemed to be about done tossing out everything that was once "theirs," Tyler's or Ryan's. Ryan stripped in the cell, leaving his clothes on the mattress, and crawled into Master's bedroom to put the laptop on His bed and open it up to display a spreadsheet of His apartment. He could look through it at His leisure and decide what needed to be brought into His new home and what should be thrown or given away. Ryan had spent the day describing each item in detail to avoid any confusion.
It was dull, tedious work, but then again, that's why Master now owned slaves. Ryan was able to admit to a strange arousal in touching things his Master owned, whether it was His underwear (14 tighty-whities, 7 white boxers, 6 boxers of different plaids), or His DVDs (concentration of war movies, some comedies, and a huge box of straight porn). Ryan now knew the kind of women his Master lusted after: blonde, slender, surprisingly small in the chest. And he knew his Master got off on fantasy lesbian porn. No man-on-man porn in the collection, proving to Ryan that he and his dad really were just holes of opportunity for Master to use. In any way He might wish.
The fagboy also learned that his Master was very smart. There were lots of books in His home, on all sorts of subjects. Not so many novels, but plenty of books on how to do things, make things, learn things. Ryan suspected Master spoke, or at least read, 4 languages, although he only heard Him speak English. The fagboy had also inventoried books about computers and the internet, metal-working ... it seemed Master could learn anything He chose to learn.
The fagboy went into the second bedroom to help his fagdad toss everything out. It looked like the fagdad had a rough time tearing apart their old lives. They both knew it was necessary to live new lives as owned slaves. The fagdad was going through the dresser, tossing almost everything into trash bags. "I saved you what I think are your favorite jeans and a heavy sweatshirt. Is that ok?"
"Sure," the fagboy Ryan answered. "It doesn't really matter since we'll both be naked most of the time. By the way, um, i'm really proud of the fagdad. i know how sudden and difficult this has been."
"i couldn't have done it without your help, Ry ... er ... the fagboy's help. You need to know how proud i am of you, too. So you're ok with quitting college? i'd push for you to continue, but i understand the need to not be distracted from life as a slave. The thing is, though, do you want to be nothing but a fagboy for the rest of your life? That's a long time...."
"i've never been surer of anything else. Really. It's the only thing that makes me happy."
"OK. Then i'm on board with it. After all, if nothing else, i've learned that i'm not in any position to tell anyone how to live their lives," the fagdad smiled, continuing to toss everything that defined the fagboy as Ryan into the trash. The fagboy joined in, exorcising any sense of identity into the garbage.
Within an hour, everything in the home that had belonged to Tyler or Ryan was now the property of Alexi or in the trash. The fagboy and fagdad crawled into the garage where Master was still working and knelt quietly waiting to be of use.
Although there was no way to specifically identify what Master was working on, it was clearly a device for use on the two faggots. There were two identical metal stockades built to hold a slave doggie-style, each of which were attached to wooden dollies. There were also two metal c-style rods that looked like they could hold the wheels of the dollies in place. Master saw his two fagslaves and smiled. "Hey there, bitches. Get the handcuffs from the workbench." The fagboy reached up and retrieved them. Master locked one of each of the two faggots` ankles together. "In my bathroom there are a couple of enema kits. Use them. Clean out your asscunts. Deeply and thoroughly."
The two faggots crawled together into Alexi's bath. The fagboy's face was deep red. "How do we...."
The fagdad answered, "I'll take care of it. Just relax your hole. This won't hurt. The worst part will just be the sound." The fagboy winced as he felt his hole being invaded by a flow of water. "Keep your head and upper body down. Let the water flow into your guts." The fagdad kept the flow slow and steady so the fagboy was able to hold it all in. "Good. Now just relax and keep it in as long as possible." It was only possible to hold it in for a minute before he felt the water straining to get out. With their ankles cuffed together, he had to rush to get past his fagdad and on the toilet in time. The fagboy was thoroughly humiliated having to shit out his guts out in front of his dad. The fagdad looked up at him and smiled encouragingly. "OK, now do the same for me. Keep it nice and slow so it can settle in a bit."
The fagboy inserted the enema tube into his fagdad's ass, silently crying in shame. Jesus, he had done so much depraved shit, but he never felt so ashamed in his life. It was clearly because his dad was there as well. Well, the man who was his dad, who was now his fagdad. The fagboy took a deep breath and slowly started squeezing on the enema bottle, letting its contents slowly run into the fagdad's guts. The fagboy's other hand was on his fagdad's abs, instinctively caressing and relaxing him. The fagboy noticed with some pride how well his fagdad had taken care of his body. Though not a six-pack, his abs were tight and in good shape. The fagdad soon pushed the fagboy aside and sat on the john, crudely voiding the enema. They repeated this process several times before they both ran clear and were thoroughly emptied. They rejoined Master in the garage.
Master smiled warmly. "Great timing. I'm about done here. Each of you grab one of these dollies and push it into the great room. I'll grab the rest." The fagboy saw Master grab a large bag along with the metal rods. He hadn't noticed that the two C-rods were soldered to smaller rods, keeping them a fixed distance from each other.
Once in the great room, Master sat down. "I've done a lot of reading on how to take care of fagbitches like you two. Seems one of the more important things I need to do to keep your shit together is provide structure. That doesn't just mean routine, asswipes; that means a known set of consequences for when you fuck up. So that's what I've been working on today. I'm doing you two the favor of showing you how you will be punished for fucking up."
Master pulled a small winch out of the bag. Of the small rods that held the two C-rods into place, at the center was one with an inset into which Master placed the winch. He then slid the two dollies into either end of the C-rods. Apparently the fagboy and the fagdad would be on opposite ends, facing away from each other. This looked menacing. "My faggots need to get their asses into place in these shackles." The faggots compliantly crawled into Master's new stockades.
Master locked them in place at their wrist, ankles, and collars. There was no way to escape. Master then fastened a small strip of leather around each of their nutsacks and fastened something to the strips. He then lubed up their fuckholes. Master stood in front of the fagboy with a long, fat, double-headed dildo. "See this? It's going up both of your fuckholes. In a minute or so, I'm going to push in just the heads. The rest will come later." He walked around to show it to the fagdad. "I've attached the winch to both of your nutsacks. The two of you will slowly be pulled by your balls toward each other, swallowing up this dildo as you get closer and closer. It'll take an hour or so for the winch to bring the two of you together. Then I'll just keep you in place as you try to accommodate all 30 inches of this fucker. Since this isn't for punishment tonight, we'll make it a contest. There's a black line at the center of this dildo. Whoever has the line up their fuckhole when time's up is the winner." Master got between them and pushed both their holes open for the dildo. He then flicked a switch on the winch and the fagboy felt a soft pull on his nuts. "I'll set the timer for... hmm... 2 hours. Have fun, faggots! May the best whore win!" Master sat on the sofa, put His feet up, one on each faggot, and grabbed the remote to start channel surfing while His faggots grunted as the discomfort in their nuts and holes grew.
First, the fagboy just dealt with the pain of his entire body being pulled along by his balls. It didn't take long for the dildo to start sliding deeper inside him. The fagboy's hole was still virginic and unused to being filled. He instinctively pushed and heard his fagdad moan as the dildo was forced inside him. He felt awful for making his fagdad suffer, vowing to work to open his hole as much as possible for this invasion.
Master was apparently a channel surfer, so it was hard to judge the passing of time. The fagboy's hole was brutally distended. He felt a push as his fagdad's hole had apparently reacted to the same stimulus by pushing the dildo even deeper into the fagboy. He started to cry, trying to do so quietly so his fagdad wouldn't hear.
Eventually their asses touched each other and the winch stopped its insistent pulling. It did, however, keep them in place, preventing any attempt to back away from each other and ease the pain of the dildo's intrusion. The fagboy felt still more push into him as his fagdad tried to find some solace. He instinctively pushed back, making his fagdad grunt. "I'm sorry," the fagboy said.
Master slammed His boots on both their backs. "Keep quiet, faggots. I'm trying to watch TV."
The fagboy felt his fagdad answer by sensually rotating his butt back and forth, trying to turn this pain into a sensual fuck. The fagboy responded by twisting his hips back and forth to counter these movements, increasing the rotation of the dildo inside both their holes. They started fucking themselves, and each other, with the dildo.
For the fagboy, this was a mixed blessing. Both their pricks were encaged, making the fulfillment of this sensuality impossible. There was no way to get off, no way to even get hard. The only result was to crave an even deeper fucking, making the desire snowball. After awhile, he started to thrust his hole around the dildo. The fagdad joined in and the two of them became lost in the delirium of fucking themselves, and each other, with an endless prick.
The timer went off and Master laughed, pulling His legs off His faggots. "I see that was a pleasant punishment. Good. I'll remember that. But now consider how much worse it could be if I added some hot pepper into the lube. Or used some menthol rub like ben-gay. Keep that in mind, fagwhores. So, let's see who was our winner." Master got up and inspected the dildo. "Well, we definitely have a winner. I'll unhook these fagnuts and see which one of you bitches is caressing the center line with your fuckhole." The fagboy felt his Master's hands pulling him and his fagdad away from each other. "Congratulations to the fagboy. You outfucked your fagdad." The fagboy smiled. "Your reward is spending the evening with Me. Go into My bedroom and await Me there. For our loser, I have a special reward. After I unlock the fagdad, I expect him to follow Me into Mitchell's and Duncan's room."
The fagboy eagerly crawled into Master's bedroom awaiting the chance to service Him.