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<Authoritarian, m/m, high school, feet>
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I have a sort of warning note at the beginning of Chapter 20 regarding the contents of this series.
SERVANT TO A SOCCER STUD CHAPTER 23
It was the last weekend of Pride Month 2019. There was a rainbow parade in New York and elsewhere. Millions of LGBTQ+ people around the world were celebrating their identity.
I, on the other hand, was celebrating Kyle Peterson.
The day before, I was on my knees as usual making out with Kyle's stinky jock feet, when Kyle filled me in on his plans.
"So faggot, tomorrow you're gonna come over as a girl. That's what you already are, so it should be easy. Put on a wig, make-up, nail polish, a dress, and high heels. Under your dress you had better be wearing girls' panties. And put on a bra stuffed full of tissues. The bigger your boobs the better."
Although I never dissent from anything Kyle said, this time, I said, "Uh, what?"
My face was met with a swift hard kick by Kyle's soccer-trained right foot.
"What the fuck did you say to me, fuck face? Do you want to die?"
Kyle's kick and words snapped me back to reality. "I'm, I'm sorry, Master, I just, I don't know how I'm going to pull that off. Anyone could see me on the way here."
Another kick to the face, harder than before. "How the fuck is that my problem, fag? You really do get stupider every day, don't you? God, I should mess you up so badly. FIGURE IT OUT, SHITHEAD!"
"Yes, Master," I croaked and went back to dutifully making mouth love to Kyle's feet, licking off the lint and sweat, smelling and breathing in as hard as I possibly could, constantly speaking directly to those feet, professing my love to them, begging for permission to marry them, etc.
As soon as Kyle dismissed me (my mouth was still filled with his cum), I ran to the car and googled nearby costume stores. I could buy the other stuff at Wal-mart or something, but the wig, well I didn't think Wal-mart sold wigs. I found one and went with blonde. The sluttier the better, right? I was still rock hard while I was doing this shopping. As usual, Kyle knew just what buttons to push. He correctly discerned that him physically turning me into a girl was yet another way to humiliate and degrade me, and that my sub homo DNA would love it.
Why a teenage boy is buying a blonde wig, well, who cared at this point. Maybe the checkout guy figured I was gay, and this actually was some drag outfit for pride, or maybe he thought it was for some prank.
Then off to Wal-mart to pick up the rest. I couldn't fit into any of my mother's or sister's dresses (nor did I want to wear their clothes). The hardest part was the shoes. I didn't know women's shoe sizes, so I had to look that up in advance and guess. The store clerk got these red heels in "my size" and I made up some story about buying a gift for my girlfriend. The panties were easier; I just picked what looked like a fairly large size. Ditto for the bras. As for the dress, I picked something that was mostly pink that gave off the "slutty teenage girl" vibe. Then onto lipstick, nail polish, eye liner, foundation, and blush. This Wal-mart had a self-checkout line, and of course that's where I bolted with thankfully little fanfare. I hurriedly put everything into shopping bags, paid, and ran out of the store.
The next day was a Saturday. I had to get my parents and sister out of the house, but then realized it was still too risky. I would instead bring all the stuff to some remote area and change into my outfit in the car. That morning though, for the first time in my life, I shaved my legs -- and my arms -- and everywhere else I had hair except on my head. Kyle didn't ask me to do that, but I knew it was greatly in my self-interest to go all out. He wanted a transformation, and I was going to give him one. Short of cutting off my dick, I did everything else I could to transform into a girl. Plus, me showing Kyle my rock hard dick added to my humiliation. I would turn myself into a girl for Kyle's amusement, despite my inescapable biology that I was male and that the center of my maleness -- the thing my dick craved and made it hard -- was precisely the humiliation Kyle decided to inflict on me.
So that was that. Right after lunch, I grabbed everything that was not already in the car, including tissues for my boobs and makeup and nail polish remover for on the way back. Then I drove to a secluded area and started changing. First I took off all my boy clothes. Then I put on the panties, tissue-stuffed bra, and the dress. Then the nail polish (like the dress, I chose pink to accentuate the femininity I was to put on display for Kyle). I did both my fingers and my toes. Then I started doing my make-up -- going over the top to look extra slutty. I think it was 5 layers of bright red lipstick. I wasn't really good with the rest of the make-up, but I tried my best. When I looked in the rearview mirror, I no longer saw me, or maybe for the first time I was seeing me -- this was the me in Kyle's world. I had the A/C on the whole time because it was already getting hot. Finally, I put on the wig.
I drove to Kyle's house and parked in the driveway. I had no idea whether anyone else was home but didn't dare ask Kyle. I put on the red high heels and got out of the car. I was self-conscious, but in one sense, I didn't need to be. Anyone looking at me from afar would have simply seen a girl going into a house where girls had gone into -- wearing these kinds of outfits -- for years, mainly for Brad, but now for Kyle as well. I was just one of those Peterson bro-hungry chicks. So I went to the door and found it unlocked. I went in. Didn't seem like anyone else was home. I made my way up the stairs, obviously making more noise than usual in those shoes.
Kyle's door was closed. I knocked but no one answered or said anything. Not knowing what to do next, I opened the door and walked in. Kyle Peterson and Gemma Carter were completely naked, in bed, and making out. I wanted to escape but was frozen solid. All of a sudden, Kyle looked at me and said, "Lookie what we have here." Gemma looked up also and screamed.
Kyle said, "Shhh, babe. As great as you are, sometimes I need two girls to take care of me, you know what I'm saying?"
I have not mentioned much about Gemma, partly because this was the first time an encounter like this happened. A few chapters back, I suggested that Gemma was playing hard to get, and Kyle had some trouble getting her attention. Well, after about 2 months of dating, things have completely changed. Kyle was so charismatic and dominant that Gemma soon found herself falling for him -- not anywhere remotely close to the way I was a servant to this soccer stud, but Gemma was not going to get up and leave, much less break up with Kyle, just because Kyle said he wanted another chick in the picture, and Kyle knew it.
"Ugh," Gemma said. "But who is this? I've never seen her before? And why is she wearing all that make-up? Looks nasty."
"Because I ordered him to."
"Him?" Gemma said.
"Oh yeah, baby. This isn't really a girl. I just made him look like one, and I will say, he followed directions pretty darn well. Nice pink dress for this sissy. No, this is my faggot. And you know him."
My heart sank. No one other than Brad and Tommy before now had learned the truth of my servitude to Kyle, and now a new person was about to.
"Huh?" Gemma said. "What are you talking about? You have a what? I don't like that word."
"I don't give a fuck whether you like it or not," Kyle huffed. "He is my faggot. And since you're being a bitch, I won't tell you who he is. You can try to figure it out yourself." Then turning to me, Kyle commanded, "Knees now, faggot. I should beat the shit out of you for not getting on your knees immediately. Oh, and when you speak, speak in high-pitched voice. We'll see whether Gemma here can identify who you are." Meanwhile, Kyle reached for his phone and took a bunch of pictures of me as a girl prostrating myself before him and Gemma.
Gemma stopped her protesting, too. She looked hard at me and then started laughing. "Yeah, I can tell now that it's a boy under there. Wow, you have your own personal slave? And he goes to our school?"
Kyle laughed, too, "Oh yeah, baby. You see how lucky you are to be with me? People are just dying to serve me."
With that, Kyle ordered me to start kissing his feet. Then he grabbed Gemma and resumed kissing her. I was sick to my stomach (mostly from the jealousy that I would never, ever get to kiss Kyle on the mouth), but what choice did I have. I started kissing Kyle's feet, passionately of course, leaving globs of lip-shaped red on those precious feet. I was fascinated by the dozens of lip shapes now pasted onto the soles of Kyle's feet. It truly was a celebration ... for his feet. Some of that red would then transfer back on my face which in turn was getting redder with each caress. Since Kyle was obviously taller than Gemma, there was basically no issue with keeping my kissing only on Kyle's feet. I had absolutely zero interest in any part of a woman's body, and I was thankful Kyle had not ordered me to come into contact with any of Gemma's (at least not on that day).
"Tsk, tsk, faggot. Aren't you supposed to be verbalizing your fuckin' lust for me while you're doing that? You trying to make me look bad in front of my girl here?"
I immediately started proclaiming, in as high-pitched a voice as I can muster, "Of course, Master Kyle. Thank you so much for letting my worthless mouth show its unconditional appreciation for your glorious, manly, soccer jock feet."
Gemma was stunned. "Wow, Kyle, that's the stuff you make him say?"
"No, babe. That's the stuff this fag piece of shit wants to say. When he says this stuff, he is pouring his heart out to me, aren't ya, homo?"
"Yes, Master. I want to praise you and glorify you and worship you in every which way possible because it is the truth. I am here to serve you because every inch of my being wants to serve you, however you command. Thank you so much for this opportunity, Great Master Kyle."
"Shut the fuck up, fag."
Meanwhile, Kyle kept writhing in his bed, making out with Gemma while I made out with his feet. Although Tommy and I had together served Kyle many, many times before, this was a new sensation. Tommy and I were sort of in a fictional world. Gemma was Kyle's actual girlfriend. For the first time, Kyle was intersecting his two worlds, and therefore solidifying my servitude of Kyle into more a reality. Like Avengers: Endgame. My existence was no longer part of some separate dimension. My faggotry for Kyle was now front and center in Dimension 1.
After a while, Kyle sat up and so did Gemma. My face was a mess of red from the lipstick and black from the mascara. "Take off that dress, cunt." I did. Kyle snapped some more photos of me wearing just the bra and the panties. "Now the panties, bitch." I did. Underneath was my rock hard dick. Kyle snapped some more photos, proving that the face of a girl in a wig and covered in make-up actually was on a male body. Kyle said to Gemma, "See, baby? The faggot totally wants to be doing this." Gemma laughed. Kyle ordered Gemma to give me her lipstick to reapply it to my lips. It was a much lighter shade of red. Then he said, "Now Gemma you sit next to me while the faggot shows you how to give a blowjob properly."
After I thanked Kyle profusely for the honor, I made my way up Kyle 8.5-inch manhood (I mentioned this length last time without confirming that Kyle's cock had grown another half inch, now as long as Brad's). As I was sucking Kyle's cock, Kyle resumed kissing Gemma, but would take breaks to tell Gemma to take note of this technique or that technique. Gemma cooed compliantly. Then Kyle ordered Gemma to suck on his nipples, a delicacy that after 9 months I still had not gotten to taste. It made me more jealous that Gemma's mouth had access to part of Kyle's body that I didn't. While he was thrusting his cock forcefully into my mouth, Kyle also said some choice things to me, like, "So you enjoying your pride month, faggot?"
I did not miss a beat, "Yes, Master Kyle. I am proud to be sucking the cock of a straight stud. It is the only thing in my life that I am proud of. So what Pride Month means to me is You giving me the opportunity to be proud of being your servant, your slave, your girl, your toy, your furniture, your foot stool, your piss drinker, your cum eater, your fart sniffer, your ass rimmer, YOUR COCKSUCKING FAGGOT PIECE OF SHIT GAY FUCK." I was continuing the high-pitched voice, and literally screamed the last part at the top of my lungs.
Combined with Gemma's mouth worshipping his nipples and my mouth worshipping his cock, the over-the-top words I had just spoken got Kyle so horny, his libido in such overdrive, that he shot his load into my mouth right there. It goes to show you how much psychology is involved in my relationship with Kyle beyond the physical. I get hard on being a gay sub, he gets hard on being a straight dom. My complete submission to him spoken with 100% sincerity confirmed his supreme power over another human being. That power trip accelerated Kyle's warm and gooey ejaculation. Although Kyle's sudden climax was a surprise, I was skilled enough at this point to keep most of his cum in my mouth.
After Kyle's climax subsided, he asked Gemma, "So you figured it out yet who the fag is?"
Gemma shrugged. "Maybe next time I can see him without the disguise."
Kyle chuckled. "Ok, but as punishment for not figuring it out, you don't get to spend more time with me. Get the fuck out of my house, bitch."
Gemma gave him a look, but put on her clothes obediently while I had returned to my knees waiting patiently for Kyle's next command. Gemma leaned in for one last kiss from Kyle, but Kyle pushed her away. "No, bitch. You're being punished. Now get out." Gemma made a disgusted sound, but left. Kyle having just gotten off, his sexual needs were satisfied, and he wanted to make the point (in front of me) that his power was real. Even in his real boyfriend-girlfriend relationship, he was the total alpha, even with a girl who had been so standoffish for so long.
As we heard her walk down the stairs, Kyle turned back to me and commanded, "Open your mouth, dumbass." I opened, showing him that his cum was still there. "Now swallow, faggot." I did. Delicious as always. Flavorful and fragrant. And with the wig and make-up and nail polish still on, my body completely hairless, my "boobs" still largely in place, and my fag dick still sticking straight up in the air, Kyle said, "Now the real fun can begin."
TO BE CONTINUED ...