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 13
It felt like hours. It might have only been minutes. I have no way to know. It was agony.
But it was delicious agony. My fagdick was now able to get fully erect from the friction against my prostate. It was the first time in over eight months it had that capability. It didn't take long before I was rock hard, dripping with desire as my arms and legs were burning in pain.
Then I heard Lord Zachary and His Friends coming down the stairs. There was no TV or anything here for Their entertainment. Nothing but the fag.
So They sat around on the floor and watched me.
Watched as my arms gave out and I screamed against the Pony digging deeper into my guts. Watched as I pulled myself back up for awhile and collapsed yet again, over and over. Watched my fagdick throb and drip with the assault.
Watched as my legs gave out and my balls were yanked by their weight. Watched as I also tried to keep pulling them back up, then letting go, compounding my agony with the force of their drop.
Watched as my eyes watered from the intensity of it all. Watched as I started sobbing. Watched as I started fucking myself against the Pony to get what little pleasure I could. Watched as my perverted fagdick got harder and harder, pulsing with desire, drooling uncontrollably, trying to empty months of disgusting fagcum without any direct stimulation.
They watched as I went fucking delirious. And They laughed.
"Jesus, Zach. That sicko fag of yours loves it! Look at its dick!"
"Zach, can we make the machine fuck it harder? Maybe it'll cum!"
"Sure, Josh. Let's see what happens." My moans told Them all They needed to know. “I wonder how long it'll take, Josh. Let's sit back and watch." And they all did.
My agony was now matched by my humiliation. Four pairs of teenage eyes burning holes into my soul, entertained by my complete and abject objectification. A fucking playtoy, no, a fucked playtoy, turned on like an electronic game for Their entertainment. And all I could do was drip, moan, cry, and inch myself closer and closer to orgasm as They watched and laughed.
I could see them starting to get bored and an even worse thought crossed my mind: Their turning off the machine before I could empty my stretched and agonized nuts. I started to truly fuck myself against the Pony, amplifying the machine's effect on my hole.
"Hey, look at it. It fucking loves it!"
"Yeah, it’s a real fagbitch now. How much longer, Zach, until we take it down?"
Lord Zachary turned, facing His friends, His beautiful ass in my face. "I'd say another 10 minutes or so, Cody. We'll see."
Oh, fucking christ. "I gotta get off. I gotta find a way to cum. Oh, fucking please. Please, Lord Zachary, Please!"
“Please what, fag?"
“Please, Lord Zachary, please let me kiss Your magnificent ass so I can cum, Sir. Please?"
That shut everybody up. Nobody saw that coming. Not even me. But as soon as the words spat out of my mouth, I knew it was true. Worshipping His ass could push me over the edge. "Please, Sir, Lord Zachary? Please? How much can I pay You to allow me to kiss Your beautiful asshole?"
He smirked His haunting smirk. "I'd say, given the circumstances, twenty bucks a minute, fag."
"Yes, oh God Yes, Lord Zachary. Please, PLEASE allow me to kiss Your asshole, Sir?"
He tossed His watch at His friends. "Count off the minutes so the fag can keep track of how much money it owes Me, ok?"
Alan set up the stopwatch function. Lord Zachary got on the step-stool and raised His butt up to my face. He lowered His shorts. There was His beautiful hole, nice and ripe, the way fags like me love it. He spoke to me as He nodded to His friends. "Ok, GO!”
I pushed my face into His ass, kissing and licking His crack, working my way toward His hole with my tongue. He wouldn't bend over, making His faggot work extra hard to get its stupid tongue between the fragrant cheeks of His muscular bubble-butt.
"One!"
I finally pushed my head forward enough to get my faggot nose between His buttcheeks and flicked my tongue against His tasty hole.
“Two!"
I started panting, tasting the incredible aphrodisiac of His ass juices. My fag cock throbbed even harder as I pushed myself both into His ass and against the Pony. My breathing started to get shallow. I could nearly taste my orgasm in His ass.
"Three!”
I pushed my tongue even deeper inside Him, surrounding myself with the taste and smell of the vicious Boy who owned me.
"Four!"
“Five!"
"Six!"
Oh, God, oh god, oh god. I needed to cum so fucking bad. I needed something, anything, to push me over the edge. I deepened my sucking of His ass, and there it was. My salvation. Nice and firm and up my Lord's asshole.
I sucked hard, pulling it down into my mouth. I worshipped him in a way I never thought even remotely possible. I was filled with shame and self-disgust. I was repulsive. A shit-eating fag. Oh, God.
I AM PATHETIC
I DESERVE TO BE LAUGHED AT BY MEN
I AM AN ASS-KISSING FAG WHORE
"Ten!”
This unbelievably ruthless Boy made it all happen. This teenage God with His incredible good looks and cruel sense of faggot justice, had somehow turned me, some random fag, into this depraved and repulsive beast. And with that realization, my cock screamed its release and I shot my load against the far wall, nearly hitting Lord Zachary's friends. I sobbed as He released my legs and arms from the hellish bondage and without being told, I hobbled to the wall and licked up my pathetic fagscum while the boys laughed at me. Laughed at Lord Zachary's pathetic shit-eating fagwhore. I don't know if They knew what I'd just swallowed. Probably not. And it probably didn't matter.
Once the wall was clean, Lord Zachary kicked me in the side, His smirk now from ear to ear. "Now get back in your suite. Since we're keeping the Pony down here, You'll find a new friend there waiting for you. It's called `The Stallion.' It's this guy's big brother. Now lock your fagdick back up and get out of our hair. We got better things to do. Oh, and leave the $200 on My desk, fag."
I locked myself back up, climbed upstairs, went to my cell, and there it was. The Stallion, indeed. I stared at It in awe before grabbing the money I needed to bring upstairs to Lord Zachary's desk. I returned, closed the door to my cell, and tried to accommodate this beast of a cock. I was once again unable to sit and relax, only capable of crouching against this new intruder, trying to will my hole into taking it fully inside. And on screen, of course, new images flashed along with the old ones. Fags as men's toilets. Fags licking up piss from filtty floors in bookstores. Fags licking clean public johns. Fags being depraved fags.
My life, on screen, for my education and validation. I was from then on also to be used by Lord Zachary as His complete and total toilet, spit-shining His asshole when He finished and paying Him for the privilege of being fed His shit. One night, in fact, He left the most cruel post-it note in existence. Attached to His dinner plate, I found it when cleaning up Their dinner:
"Dad cooked really a great dinner tonight. Don't worry. You'll get the rest when I'm done with it."
And, dammit, every time I was used that way, my stupid fagdick got hard as hell, straining against its unyielding cage.