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 17
Ryan waited in Alexi's bedroom at the foot of His bed, head bowed in respect. The fagboy tried to put a label on what he felt for his Master. It wasn't love, at least not in any traditional respect. But as every event of this weekend unfolded, there was some intangible, unknowable bond developing. The mere glimpse of Master, or even Sir Mitchell or Sir Duncan, made his whole body tingle and shiver, his slavedick pulse in its damnable cage of agony. The fagboy's heart raced nearly every moment since "slave day." He found fulfillment being a whore for these three Men to use in any way They desired. He found strength and purpose where normal folks would find horror and disgust. He was running toward what normal folks would be running from. And it gave him a sense of joyful peace. Euphoria.
Master strode back into His room. "Wow, what planet is this fagboy on? Certainly nowhere near here?"
"Master? Did I displease you? Oh, shit, Master ..."
Master chuckled, "No, no. The faggot has nothing to worry about. You were just a million miles away. What were you thinking about?"
Ryan swallowed hard. "Master, are You sure You want to know?"
Master's face changed to one of sternness. "Fuck yes. There are no more secrets in these walls. There's been enough of that for the past 19 years."
"Yes, Master. OK.... I was trying to decide what it was I was feeling for you." Fagboy looked up at Alexi with concern.
"And? What is it?"
"Master, I really don't know how to describe it. It's good, whatever it is."
"OK. Here's an assignment. Before crawling off to bed tonight, I want the fagboy to figure it out and tell me. In the meantime, let me say what's been going on in my mind. Remember back when that I was talking to Mitchell and Duncan about that lock around your fagdick? About how it was a great tool for a Master to modify his slave's desires, simply by allowing the fagdick freedom to get erect when doing a particular task? We've been talking it over, trying to decide what chore should be the one that you desire more than anything else. We decided upon the chore that we like you best doing: sucking our cocks. From now on, whenever the fagboy's mouth is servicing cock, your fagdick will be uncaged. Soon you'll be constantly begging us to be sucking cock -- if not one of ours, then someone else's -- just so your stupid slavedick can be free to drool.
"But the fagboy will not be allowed to touch it or rub it against anything. This is simply permission for it to get erect. And as for the three of us, we don't want to feel your stupid fag-on against our flesh. Make sure that doesn't happen, or else you and the fagdad will suffer."
"Yes, Master. But ... will I be allowed to cum?"
"If you cum without humping anything, sure. But that's true all the time, even when locked up. Any time the fagboy can shoot, go right ahead. Not that I think it will be easy, or even possible, locked up in the cage. On the other hand, your fagdad almost shot the other night." Alexi shrugged. "We'll find out. For now, though, you should concentrate on tonight's activity.
"I'm going to strip down and go to bed. Toss my clothes into the hamper, your cell. Then get back on My bed. I'll unlock the fagdick and you start worshiping My prick. As long as your faglips are wrapped around My dick, all is well. But as soon as those fagboy lips are off my cock, for any reason, for even a fraction of a second, we're done for the night and your queercock gets locked back up. Any questions?"
"No, Master." The fagboy watched his Master strip and slide into bed. He gathered up Master's dirty clothes and dragged them into the closet, tossing them into the cell. He then climbed back on the bed and kissed the head of his Master's cock while his dick was freed from its prison of torment. The fagboy slid his legs under him and pulled himself between his Master's legs and softly swallowed His prick.
The fagboy's mouth instinctively made love to Master's cock, caressing it, pulling precum from it, sliding it down the fagboy's throat. At one point, Master pulled the fagboy's head, forcing His cock even deeper down his throat. The fagboy gagged and started to pull back.
"Keep those lips wrapped around My meat, cuntface." The fagboy had to quickly learn to reset his throat from the gag without expelling Master's cock. He was able to do this by wrapping his lips around Master's dickhead, letting the spit pool in his mouth a moment, and then swallowing everything, spit and dick, back down his throat. He felt Master's prick throb as He chuckled. "My fagboy's got great instincts. Keep it up."
The fagboy's prick, free to get fully hard, did exactly that. Relishing the sensation of sucking cock, loving the pulse of his own erection, Ryan didn't care that he wasn't allowed to stroke it. After the many weeks of constant aching frustration and the ruined orgasm of the other night, just being fully hard was pleasure enough.
The fagboy focused on the other night, the blowjob he unknowingly shared with his father, now the house fagdad. The orgasm would have been mind-blowing, but the shock of seeing his dad sucking his cock, dressed like some cheap whore, totally destroyed the pleasure. The fagboy had never experienced a ruined orgasm and prayed he'd never have to again. This experience was the exact opposite of that. It was a rewarding erection without any hope of orgasm. But it still held fulfillment, just of a different kind. The fagdick throbbed, hour after hour, in celebration of its own erection. Yes, the fagboy could suck cock like this for days at a time and love every fucking minute of it.
Master had apparently slipped into a light slumber and was shifting onto His side. The fagboy matched His every move to maintain his mouth's lock on Master's prick. Master started softly thrusting His prick into the fagboy's throat. The slave moaned happily as his face was softly fucked by his Master's cock.
Master woke up from the semi-sleep to find Himself face-fucking His fagboy. "Jesus, bitch, you are born for this job, aren't you?"
Ryan looked up at his Master and smiled, nodding in place while keeping his lips wrapped around Master's erection. Master rolled back on his back, grabbed His fagboy's ears, and fucked his face in earnest. When Master's erection expanded and pulsed, the fagboy could tell He was about to cum. He wrapped his faggot tongue around Master's cock and sucked hard, pulling the cum out of His delicious dick.
"Holy fuck. Yeah, suck my load out, faggot. Pull it from my balls."
The fagboy gulped as his mouth filled with his Master's tasty seed. He practically cried in joy. This is what he was born for. This was his purpose and his home. This was what he wanted for the rest of his life. Master's pleasure, Master's orgasm, fulfilled and validated him like nothing else. His fagdick pulsed and drooled even harder, but the fagboy didn't need any orgasm but the one he was just granted. He felt like he just shot his own load from Master's cock. He stayed in place and continued to softly worship his Master's cock, hoping for the nourishment of His piss.
It took awhile, but eventually he was granted that gift as well. Master apparently hadn't gone for awhile, because the flow was fast and full. But by this time, the fagboy had become an expert at being a useful urinal and had no problem keeping up with the flow. He heard Master sigh softly as He finished emptying His bladder down his fagboy's throat. The fagboy, Master's fagboy, sucked and pulled the remaining piss from His Master's cock.
"Fuck, yes," Master moaned, half asleep. He woke himself up and looked at the clock. It was just after midnight. "If the fagboy behaves well, you can nurse My meat all night long." The fagboy moaned in joy.
The next thing the fagboy knew was a kick to his head. "Wake up, dipshit. Apparently you fell asleep and let my cock out of your mouth. Time to lock you back up and send you to your cell."
The fagboy obeyed, sliding his crotch up the bed so Master could push the fagdick back into its prison. "Master, I can answer your question. I know what I feel for you."
"OK. Then it's time for the fagboy to spill the beans. Let's hear it."
"Master, You saved my life. I mean, I don't think I would have killed myself or anything, but there's no way I'd ever have felt this kind of happiness without You. You've given my life meaning. You are my savior, Master. You're like my goddamn God."
Master chuckled, liking the way that was phrased. "I'm going to replay those words in my head for the rest of the night. Now go to bed."
The fagboy crawled into the cell and curled up next to his fagdad. His entire body shook with pleasure as his father, still asleep, wrapped his arm around his fagboy. Yes, this was fucking perfect. He had so much to be thankful for. There was no way he could ever repay his Master, no matter what was demanded of him.