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.
To get the full story of the Delta Psi fraternity and their bitchboy, go to "Frat Boy's Bitch Boy" on Nifty/Authoritarian: http://west.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/frat-boys-bitch-boy/
Fagboy & Fagdad - Part 24
The next morning, the fagboy was hard at work deeply tonguing assholes as the three Men of the house were being served breakfast by the fagdad. It was impossible to satisfy all three of Them at once, but it wished it could. Instead it would scurry from hole to hole, trying to keep all three moist and attended to. While doing this, it was able to relive yesterday's adventures as the Sirs narrated the day to Master. Sir Duncan was talking as the fagboy dutifully and reverently wiggled its tongue inside His asshole.
"...quite a show, Alexi. The fagboy and their bitchboy competing as to which one could be the thirstiest urinal ... meanwhile, the fagdad getting punched and kicked to holy hell. Fuckin' beautiful souvenirs on its flesh, huh?"
Master chuckled, "That black eye's gonna be there awhile. Nice. So which one of the two sewer-boys won?"
"I think it never occurred to the bitchboy that there could be a strategy to win that game. Maybe it was just too damn tired. It had been awake for at least two days. The Deltas seem to despise their bitchboy. Lots of hatred in that room. I dunno how that faggot can survive. Once they dumped the fagboy's bucket down its throat, the bitchboy must have had gallons of piss racing through its body and hanging by its nuts. These fags here don't know how lucky they are to have us taking care of them. But anyway, yeah, the fagboy was crowned the best urinal. And it got to celebrate by worshiping all of our pricks. Though a lot of us had already fucked the fagdad by that point."
The fagboy had loved its reward. Mouth and throat wide open taking on any of the Fratboys who wanted His cock worshipped. Its own fagdick released from its prison, allowed to be fully hard, adding to its unquenchable thirst for cum. Each prick slid into its throat was reverently worshiped -- an act of communion with the Men who were its Gods.
Sir Mitchell chimed in. "Yeah, the fagdad was something else as well. Once Tony had used it, it was sort of hypnotized into the most submissive and insatiable state I'd ever seen it, begging, nearly sobbing, to be fucked over and over again."
The fagboy remembered the fagdad's throat-rape and recalled the one it had been given by the same Fratboy weeks ago. Its throat still ached from the experience, but it was no longer an ache of bruising -- it was an ache of hunger. One that would, as Tony had promised, haunt it for the rest of its life.
Sir Mitchell continued. "We ever tell you about Tony, Alexi? We all call him `Horse'. You can guess why. His rule: one rape per fag. They keep begging him for more, and he flat out refuses. We were out one night and one of his used fags bought us all drinks all night long, hoping Tony would change his mind. Nice. I hear those bitches give him all sorts of gifts hoping against hope. Quite a racket he's got going there."
Master thought about it for a second and replied, "Why the fuck not? Fagbitches have an innate need to give. So why not take?" By this time, the fagdad had finished serving Them Their breakfasts and slid underneath Master's ass, leaving the fagboy to take care of the Sirs.
They nodded in agreement with Master's assessment while They continued eating. Master asked, "You guys OK with me taking a fagslave to the garage with me today? I need to get the `vette looked over, and I figure I could bring along some entertainment."
"No problem, Alexi. We need anything, we'll be taken care of by the one left here."
"Great. I gotta get going." Master slid out of His chair and the fagdad slid out from underneath. "I want a fagslave cleaned up and out real quick, then dressed. I'm leaving here in 20 minutes." The fagboy looked at the fagdad to show its desire and left without eating any of the piss & cereal of its breakfast, leaving it all for the fagdad. It was more important to be on time for Master.
Twenty minutes later, the fagboy was in the car with Master, heading to His mechanic's. Although the fagboy had noticed the growing distance between them as they became less friendly and more separated by the chasm between Master and slave, Master seemed to be very warm and talkative this morning. It was a nice change.
"So, did the fagboy enjoy being a frat-bitch?"
"Yes, Master. It was incredible. Non-stop piss and cum all day long. A real-life wet-dream, Master."
"I'm sure the fagboy was hysterical to watch. A sub-human urinal and suckhole. Just what it always wanted to be. How was it watching the fagdad being punched and abused by the frat? I don't think it's ever seen the fagdad used that way, has it?"
"No, Master. It was painful to watch at first until it saw the joy in the fagdad's face. The fagdad seems to find real peace in being used so hard. It doesn't think it could ever do what the fagdad does, Master."
"Faggots shouldn't think; I've talked about that before. And don't fucking worry about it. If I want something like that to happen, it will happen. But I'm smart enough to make it happen correctly."
"Yes, Master. It doesn't think anybody knows just how brilliant You are, Master. How many languages do You speak?"
"Fagboys don't get to ask questions. I'm just going to say that there's no need to make everyone else feel stupid. Leave it at that."
The rest of the ride was spent in silence. The fagboy felt that it might have upset Master by asking a question and was afraid to say anything else unless He asked.
They arrived at the garage. Master's mechanic had apparently just finished working on another Man's TR7 and was lowering it back down.
"Hey, Alexi. Time to check underneath her hood, huh?"
"Yep. Just make sure she's still in tip-top shape for me. Give her your love like you always do so she'll keep running like a dream."
The mechanic approached them and gave the crawling fagboy a second look. "What the fuck is this kid here for?"
"My fagboy? Can't you guess?"
"Sorry, Alexi, I thought you were straight. We never really talked ...."
"Dude, I'm straight. This bitch just does things chicks don't do. Watch." Master's eyes bore into the fagboy's soul. "Show my friend how deeply a fagslave kisses ass." He dropped His pants just enough for it to crawl between His cheeks and slide its tongue lovingly against His asshole.
"Wow. What else does he do?"
"Well, it' does anything I tell it to. Anything. I say drink my piss', its mouth and throat are my sewer. I say `suck my dick' and my cock is swallowed down its fuckthroat. Got a fetish? It'll make it happen."
"Jesus. Where'd you get it?"
"That's a long story, Mike. Come on over one evening and I can tell you all about it over a couple of beers while we get our cocks worshiped by the fagboy and its fagdad."
"What? You got two of `em?"
Master laughed. "Yeah. I won the faggot lottery. So anyway, while you're looking over the Stingray, I'll drag the fagboy into the waiting room and be entertained by it. If you've got a spare slot after working on the `vette, you're welcome to try the fagboy out yourself."
"Shit, I wish you'd said something beforehand. I can't. Got another appointment. But go ahead, make yourself at home."
Master went inside, the fagboy following close behind. Master sat and ordered the fagboy to make love to His feet. Fagboy undid the laces of His sneakers with its tongue and started to use its teeth to pull the back of the sneakers off His feet. It had learned to never use its hands without permission.
The door opened and another client walked in. Probably the owner of the TR7. Master didn't say a word, so the fagboy kept on working, stripping off His socks with its tongue and then laying down on the floor to gently lick and worship the soles of His feet. It could feel the Man staring down at it wondering what was going on. It slid back a bit so He could see "F A G B O Y" inked across its forehead. He stared at it for a moment, smiled, and shook His head.
Master looked at Him and smiled. "Yeah, every man should have a fagslave. Wanna use mine awhile?"
"Definitely. I know how useful faggots can be. Just never saw one used openly in public before." He started to unzip His fly.
"Nah, don't bother. Sit back and let the fagboy work for your prick." Once again, Master's eyes bore into His property. "Get to work. Make this man feel good. But let me unlock that fagdick, since it will be sucking cock." It slid out from under Master's feet and stood for Him to easily unlock the new and more resilient cock cage, installed in both fagslaves once their PA piercings healed. Then it crawled respectfully to the Stranger and pulled His fly open with its teeth. It buried its lips inside the zipper and sought out the Man's cock.
"You know about that compound outside of town?" the Man asked Alexi. He slid His hand in His pants to help release His drooling prick. The fagboy instantly swallowed, savoring the salt of the Stranger's precum. And savoring the sensation of its own drooling, erect fagdick. It could suck cock all day and night -- and it guessed that was the fucking point. Why it was allowed to get hard. To turn it into a completely insatiable hole for Men to use.
"No, but I heard a couple of friends talking about it. Apparently their frat, or some other frat, used it for service while watching a game?" The fagboy was all ears ... well all ears and hole. There was no way it was letting go of a delicious cock unless told to.
"Sure, but it's got lots of other uses, too. You walk in and take your pick of faggots there for the taking. Have it suck you, worship your body, fuck it senseless, slap it around ... whatever you fucking want. If I wasn't able to go there, I'd go fucking crazy. The wife, she's all touchy-feely and emotional ... makes it all about her and never about me, you know? These fagbitches, they get it. They know who's in charge."
"Huh. I'm going to have to look into this place." The fagboy thought it sounded like a wet dream and would have doubted such a place even existed, except it had now heard about it from several different Men. And although the place sounded fantastic for a faggot, it knew it was extremely lucky to have come into service of such careful, intelligent Men. It knew They didn't care for it, but it believed They cared about it. It knew They took care of it. And that was all it needed.
"Is your faggot piss-trained?"
"Help yourself." The fagboy moaned as it was nourished by this Stranger's strong piss stream. As it was sucking the last few sips out of His cock, the door opened again and Mike the mechanic came in.
"Fuck it. I told my next appointment I had to cancel and I'd take care of his Ferrari at no charge tomorrow. You two are having too much fun. I can't concentrate out there."
"Help yourself," Master repeated.
"Can I fuck it? I like assfucking my girlfriend, but she hates it."
"Knock yourself out. It should already be lubed up for you."
"Seriously?" He slid a finger in its hole and it trembled around Him. "Jesus, you weren't kidding. This faggot is a perfect whore." Mike unceremoniously dropped His pants and got on His knees behind it, pulling its cheeks apart. It pushed hungrily toward Him, moaning in anticipation. Mike slid His dick against its hole without penetration. "Oh, god, please....." it moaned around the Man's throbbing hard-on in its throat.
It heard, rather than saw, Mike shrug His shoulders and say, "OK..." He slid His cock inside it, slowly but with purpose. The fagboy's hole slid open and swallowed, pulling Him in even deeper. "Jesus.... How'd you train this bitch?"
Master chuckled. "I read some books. Enjoy yourself. That's what it's here for."
The two strangers took all the pleasure They wanted from the fagboy. Mike got more aggressive with each stroke, and this unnamed Man seemed to love kicking back and letting the fagboy adore every inch of His manhood. It showed its gratitude by deep throating His cock while its tongue slid out of its mouth and danced around His balls. "Oh, fucking christ...." The Man's cock emptied down its throat. Although the fagboy loved the taste of cum, it was learning there was a greater joy in letting Men shoot down too deep for it to get that taste. It closed its throat around His dick and sucked hard, pulling every last seed out of His balls.
All that pleasure flowed through its body and grabbed onto Mike's erection, convulsing around it and giving Him more pleasure than He could stand. "Oh, yeah, oh jesus...." The fagboy felt His prick push a thick gusher of cum up its fuckhole, throbbing against its prostate with every pulse. Its fagdick, hard and throbbing since it started sucking the Stranger, couldn't hold back any longer and the fagboy shot all over His shoes.
"Oh, SIR, oh, it's so sorry, please forgive it SIR!" It leapt from His spent cock and tried to devour any speck of fagscum that had littered His loafers. It slid its tongue along the shoes' toe caps, welts, and outsoles, scraping and sucking every trace of its offensive release.
The man laughed. "Chow down, faggot." Mike was still throbbing against its prostate and its dick was still flowing cum, but now on the dirty waiting room floor.
Master spoke, loudly and sternly. "Clean up every drop, bitch. Every drop off my new friend's shoes, every drop off the floor. Show some fucking respect."
"Yes, Master," it sobbed as it slid its tongue under the soles of the Man's shoes, making sure they were scum-free. It then lowered its head to the filthy floor and sucked up the mud of its cum and the grime of the garage. It was proud to be able to serve this way, to show these Men the depth of its depravity. And it adored its Master all the more for allowing this to happen.