First, the basics. This is, once again, a work of FICTION. Real-life considerations will take a back seat to erotic pleasure and story-telling; this slave, these Masters do not exist. Wanna change that? Or just wanna share comments/praise/criticism? Fine: Not_your_Typical_Master@yahoo.com
Copyright © 2011
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The House Fag, Chapter 10
Some weeks later, I'd been in my cell for a few hours after Lord Zachary returned home from school that afternoon, so I guessed it was around dinner time for the Men of the house. I heard Master Thomas come in from the garage, shouting that He brought dinner home with Him.
They had turned on the TV and were settling in to watch a game. I was called out of my cell.
"Hey, fag, want some dinner?"
This was extraordinary; I was usually just allowed to eat whatever They generously left on Their plates after They'd finished and gone to bed for the night. I crawled out from my cell and into the family room. Master Thomas' movie-star smile told me They were about to have a lot of fun. My heart throbbed in a mad combination of lust and fear.
"I didn't think we'd have much in the way of leftovers for you tonight, fag, so I picked up a spare burger while at the joint."
"Dad? Did you get the fag a happy meal?" Lord Zachary smirked.
"No, just a burger and some fries." He tossed them on the floor at my feet. I stared at the wrapped fast food and suddenly recognized how long it had been since I'd had the pleasure of warm food in my mouth. Everything I'd eaten for months now had been tepid, lukewarm, mere remnants of Master Thomas' fine cooking. Apparently what they said about firemen was true; He was a great chef. But by the time I got to eat it, it was only a recollection of the flavor it must have held earlier.
Even though My mouth was watering for this cheap burger, I'd finally learned better than to reach for what was within my grasp. "Please, Master Thomas, may I have the burger and fries you placed on the floor in front of me?"
Master Thomas looked at His Son. "Zach? It's ok with me, but what do you think?"
Lord Zachary shrugged. I took that as a yes and hungrily unwrapped the burger. "Thank You, Lord Zachary and Master Thomas!"
As I raised the burger to my mouth, Lord Zachary reconsidered. "Just a moment, fag. That's probably not such a good idea. You've gotten so used to the taste of us in your dinner. That burger, without our taste in it, will probably make you sick. Give it to me."
I handed it over, crestfallen. What were They going to do to me now?
Lord Zachary took a bite out of the burger, chewing it in giant, exaggerated movements. Once again making sure Their stupid faggot got the point. After about a minute of chewing, He spat it out on the tile in front of me. "There you go, fag. Much better, isn't it?"
There was only one answer. "Yes, Lord Zachary. Thank You so much for chewing my dinner for me, Sir. That was very kind of you." I began sucking up the chewed and spat bits of burger off the floor.
Master Thomas laughed. "Good one, Zach." Zach's eyes lit up as He ran back into His room, yelling behind Him that the fag shouldn't take another bite until He came back. He returned moments later, still in His jeans and muscle-T, but now wearing his soccer cleats, scraping them against the tile of the floor.
"Seems to me, Dad, that these places really don't tenderize their food as much as they should. A fag deserves its food nice and tender, doesn't it?"
Master Thomas shrugged his shoulders. Clearly He was letting His Son call the shots this evening. Lord Zachary unbuttoned His jeans and slid the bun of the burger up and down His sweet, sweaty crack. "First, it needs a little extra seasoning." He farted into the bread, wiping His hole with what was soon to be my dinner. Then He dropped the burger and bun onto the floor and used His cleats to grind them into the tile. Pulverizing my dinner with the weight of his body and the filth of the fields where he'd been playing earlier that day.
After many such grindings into the floor, Lord Zachary sat back down on the sofa. "There you go, fag. Dinner is served." He gave a grand flourish onto the disgusting mess spread on the floor beneath Him.
I began to crawl over as Master Thomas arose from His recliner. "Aw, shit, Zachary. I forgot to get it anything to drink while I was out. I better fix that, huh?" He stood above my pulverized burger and unleashed His beautiful, massive cock to piss on His fag's dinner.
Watching all this gave me true insight into the word "belittling". I felt truly "be-littled": small, insignificant, a mere fleck of filth on Their windshield, empty except as Their playtoy. I started crying as I sucked up my chewed-up, stomped-down, farted-on, pissed-in dinner. How and why could I let such Men do this to me?
And there was the answer. Such Men. I was lucky to be in the same room as Such Men. To be allowed to even look at Such Men. To be breathing the same air as Such Men. It was all so fucking simple.
"And, you know, Zach, I wouldn't be much of a man if I didn't help our fag out with the fries." Instead of leaning back into His recliner, He sat up, fries at His feet. I watched, sucking up my piss- and dirt-enhanced dinner crumbs from the tiled floor, as He began to scrunch the fries between His hairy, fragrant toes. "I wonder how long it's been since the fag last had mashed potatoes, Zachary?" The two of them laughed, bonding over the abuse They were providing for Their fag. Master Thomas curled the fries between and beneath His toes and feet, turning them into complete mush. "Once you've licked your room-size plate clean, fag, you can have these yummy mashed potatoes. Then you should probably tongue-wash My son's cleats." Lord Zachary used His toes and heels to spit them off His feet and onto the floor with an angry clatter.
Dammit. Even while I felt like my soul had been ripped out of me, Master Thomas made my dick throb in its imprisonment. I was drooling at the thought of sucking His delicious feet clean. I hated myself for what He did to me. I was nothing but a cocksucking, toe-licking, ass-worshiping fag. And there was nothing else I could have wanted more.
Having sucked up the last of the burger from Their floor, I crawled to Master Thomas' recliner and moaned as I was allowed to suck the mashed crumbs from between His toes and under His soles. I wondered if His cock was aroused from this abject display of power and helplessness, but from my position on the floor, there was no way to tell as I abjectly sucked my food from His impeccable soles. So all I did was worship this Man and His beautiful, delicious feet.
I continued crying, more in gratitude now, as I was ignored while They enjoyed the game on TV, finished with the game of tormenting Their fag. After Master Thomas' feet and Lord Zachary's cleats were cleaned up, Their homely fag quietly crawled back into its cell, closing the door and focusing on the screen continuously reinforcing its insignificant place in the world. Its insignificant place in Their world. It shivered with the realization of just what a lucky fag it was to have been taken in by Such Men.