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 2012
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The House Fag, Chapter 19
First I had to try to separate twenty-four firemen boots into pairs, just by touch. I was surprised to find some variety in the boots; I figured they were paid by the city as part of the uniform, but maybe it just gave an allowance. Or maybe some just bought boots on their own. It didn't matter to a bootlicking faggot. But even still, I had 6 boots that seemed indistinguishable from each other. I felt for the amount of mud or dirt and recognized that one pair was far dirtier than the other two. But among the final four, I couldn't feel any difference in any way. I tried tasting the dirty soles to see if I was savvy enough to taste any difference. My inferior taste buds failed me. I felt so fucking stupid, such a dumbfuck, to not even be able to separate the boots of my Superiors. Then, as the top of one of the boots grazed my nose, I realized that I might be able to smell the difference between them. I tried to clear my nose and then put one
of the boots to my face and deeply inhaled.
"Jesus, that faghole is such a fuckin' perv! Do you see it over there, getting off on our stench?"
I knew better than to correct Him. No doubt He was right, I was getting off on it. I deeply inhaled from the other boots as well, and could find a subtle tone of difference in the dried foot-sweat. I hoped I successfully separated them into pairs. So now it was only a matter of tongue-scrubbing them all down. I started at one end, brought the boot to my stupid lips, and started my job of boot-worshiping Men I've never even seen. I wished Their feet were still in these boots while I worshipped them, but that was selfish of me; these Firemen had better things to do than indulge some perverted fag.
It was such an unbelievable torture to be unable to even glimpse these Men. I knew what firemen look like; I've seen the calendars. And here I was, surrounded by Them, used by Them, humiliated by Them, serving Them, and I couldn't even savor the sight of Their incredible bodies. Not Their cocks, not Their asses, not Their chests, not Their arms, not even Their delicious feet.
But then I was brought back to the present with a hard kick to my sorry ass. "Thank You, Sir. I don't deserve such attention, Sir, but if You don't mind, I've love some more, Sir." "Thank You again, Sir. That felt so wonderful, Sir. Please, Sir, could You do it again, Sir, to remind me of my insignificance, Sir?"
"No, shithead. Crawl under the table and make love to our feet and toes while we have lunch. Then we'll start cooking your dinner for you." More guffaws around the table as I scurried underneath and found a pair of bare feet.
I tongue-washed them as well I could, but my mouth was getting so incredibly dry. My User apparently understood the situation and unzipped His fly. He softly kicked my face up so I could hear Him mutter, "drink up, bitch." I felt my way to His cock and gratefully drank His savory urine.
"Oh, God, thank You so much, Sir."
"Get back to work, bitch." I returned to His feet. After a moment, He kicked me to the side and I found the next pair of feet to gratefully worship. I was fed another bladderful of Fireman piss. And on it went around the table. I realized lunch was over when all but one of the Firemen got up at once and returned to the other room, stomping all over the progress I'd made on Their boots in the meantime. I could hear Them dragging and tossing the boots all around, erasing any progress I had made, laughing and enjoying Themselves as They did so. I couldn't be sure, but it sounded like one or two emptied Their bladders once again on the pile of boots I was about to re-clean.
"Fagwhore, get out from under there. It's time to slow-cook your dinner."
"Yes, Sir. How can I help You, Sir?"
"We have a garden in the back. Some of us like growing our own food. We got some heads of lettuce and some spinach out there. Good nutritious food, but not quite nutritious enough for a fag.
"So here's the favor we're all doing for you, fagwipe. We've taken leaves of the lettuce and spinach and have them in our briefs, being marinated against our crotches and the cracks of our asses. We know much a fag loves the taste of Fireman ass and Fireman crotch, isn't that right?"
"Oh, God, yes, Sir. Thank You all so fucking much, Sir."
"Well, think about that while you get to work on our fucking boots. Shit, looks like you didn't do a damn thing all fucking day; they're just sitting here in a pile. Thank God we all have a pair to use in the meantime."
Soon after I got back to work, sucking dirt and now piss off of Fireman boots, a firebell went off and everyone hurried out. I remained behind, of course, a dumbfuck minion whose only duty was to clean boots. I admit that I did take the opportunity to remove my blindfold and look around the place. I found Their lockers, and some of the Men had family photos on them. The Firemen, were, of course, incredibly muscled and handsome. All it did was add to my frustration because I knew I'd never know which Fireman I would be serving at any moment. With that realized aggravation, I went back to where I had been stationed, looked over the boots briefly to see if I'd missed anything, and slid the hood back down and quietly went back to work. That's how the fag bitch was found hours later when the Firemen returned from the call.
By this time They were ready to cook Their dinner. I lined up Their boots for inspection and announced that I had finished the assignment. Someone came over to inspect the fag's work.
"Not bad, fag. Good work. We'll pick up our boots when we're done eating dinner."
"Thank You, Sir, for inspecting and approving my work. It means a lot to such a worthless fag to get that kind of approval, Sir." He grunted and walked away, not caring about what a stupid fag thinks or cares about.
"Dinner's ready, guys." Everyone came in to eat. One person stopped in front of the fag and a rainfall of edible leaves fell over its head. "Enjoy your dinner, fag." I moaned my way throughout the meal savoring the stench of Fireman sweat and pheromones.
"Hey! It found the red-leaf." Everyone stopped chatting upon that announcement. One of the Firemen spoke up. "OK, fag, here's the test. We know how much fags love the taste of our asses. One of us had that leaf deep in his crack, practically up his shithole, all day long. We've all placed our bets, so show us who's right. Go around the table, kiss each of our asses, and compare them to the taste of that leaf of lettuce. Show us if you're a butt-connoisseur enough to match the taste and pick the right Fireman."
I moaned at the opportunity to once again worship hot Fireman hole. I crawled to the table, leaf in my Fireman-worshipping fag-mouth as They each unzipped and bared Their incredible asses for me to sample. I found the first Fireman's ass and slurped down His crack and in His hole. The other firemen hooted and snickered as I worshipped His ass, then quickly took a bite of the lettuce and compared.
"Nice, fag. Now do the same to the guy to my left and take another bite of the lettuce leaf and compare it to his ass juice. Go around the table. Make sure there's enough lettuce to go around, fag. And then let us know whose butt had been flavoring it for you all afternoon."
All around the table, the fag worshipped Fireman ass and swallowed some of its dinner. When it finished, it returned to the first Fireman and nodded. The Firemen applauded its performance, making it blush in embarrassment.
"Good work, fag. Now we're going to enjoy our dinner. You enjoy yours as well. Get on your fucking back, legs up high, exposing your fuckhole to us. Then eat your dinner like the whore we all know you really are."
I provided the meal's entertainment. There was barely a word spoken as I felt twelve pairs of unknown Firemen's eyes burn into my flesh as I humiliated myself in front of Them, displaying to Them my painful hunger to be used and filled. As awful as it was to be teased by positioning myself whorishly for Master Thomas while He watched TV, this was twelve times worse with a dozen incredibly hot Firemen quietly stoking my hunger. I could feel my hole opening and closing, instinctively grabbing on to cocks that were not there. When I took the last bite of the dinner and used my hands to spread my cheeks for Them, I heard one of Them softly say, "Wow." The first of Them got up from the table and picked up His boots, kicking Me in the balls as He passed. "Thank You, Sir, for reminding me that I'm just a worthless idiot, Sir. Could You kick my nuts again, please, Sir?" Each followed in kind. Then twelve more pairs of boots were thrown at me to work on
during the night.
I was such an imbecile. Such an ignorant faghole. It never occurred to me that these Firemen would have real no sexual use or desire for a fag, as there are plenty of women who would gladly offer their bodies for sexual use as well. I was used just as something new during my first few days. But now as the days dragged on, at night while I spit-shined boots, I could hear an occasional Fireman enjoy Himself with one of the women who came by for that purpose. And so this was my routine. Boot shiner all day and night and Fireman ass-kisser on demand. Fed as a urinal, but more for my nutritional needs than for Their pleasure. A pathetic firehouse fag.
I finally realized just how inconsequential fags like me are to Men. How close to useless. How completely insignificant. I felt so fucking worthless. Humiliated by just my mere presence in Their midst. A filthy loser polluting Their air with its presence.
One night brought this realization deep into my worthless faggot soul. I was called into Their sleeping area where one of the Fireman was enjoying one of the ladies who came by. As I approached, I could hear her moans as she rode His cock. "Come closer, fag. So that if the hood were off, you'd get a great view of my big beautiful balls."
I moaned at His suggestion while I positioned myself between His legs where He sat. I could hear, smell, almost touch the primal sexuality that filled the room. "You want some of this, fag? You want to lick my hairy nuts while I let this nice lady ride my cock?" She chuckled her amusement.
I nodded my head earnestly like some four-year-old. "Yes, Sir. More than You could possibly understand Sir. Please, Sir, would You allow a fag to add to Your pleasure, Sir?"
"It's damn fucking unlikely. My cock would probably lose its hardon as soon as you touched Me, you fucking queer." Of course. Make it hurt, Sir. As only a Man like You can.
"I understand, Sir. How can such a creature amuse You, Sir? Please, Sir, anything I could do for You would be an honor, Sir."
"I enjoy seein' just how desperate you are, fag. Kneel like a dog. Bend your elbows and your wrists. Yeah, that's it, fag-doggie. Now stick out that ass-wipe of a tongue, muttface. Now beg. No, don't bark. Just pant like a good little doggie at the thought of licking my hairy nuts while I fuck this beautiful woman who came by tonight."
I learned the difference between having no pride and having no shame. I had no pride in fulfilling His whim that night. But I had plenty of shame. I was filled with shame. Shame for being so pathetic. Shame for being so much less, so inferior, so substandard in comparison to these Men, to this Man. I caressed the sound of the two of Them fucking, both of Them occasionally laughing at the pathetic scum in front of Them. I was so fucking subhuman, barely worth the oxygen I was allowed to breathe. I heard Them whisper, conspiring a plan involving the fag.
"I bet you'd love to take off that hood and see this, huh, fag?"
"Yes, Sir. I've been dreaming about what all of You look like since Master Thomas first dropped me off here, Sir. It would mean so much to such a pathetic loser faggot like me, Sir. Would you allow such a thing, Sir?"
"I have one condition. If you kneel here to My left and remove your hood, I will keep bitch-slapping you over and over until you put it back on again. Bitchslaps as hard as I fucking can. Might loosen a tooth or two, fag. But you'll be able to see something."
"Sir, it will be an honor, Sir. May I get in position, Sir?"
"Jesus fucking Christ. You -are- a loser, fag. No fucking doubt. Sure, get in position so I can slap some sense into your cocksucking brain."
I quickly complied and put my hands on the side of the hood. "Sir, before I remove the hood, I want to thank You so fucking much. . . ."
"Shut the fuck up, fag, and make it happen. Not another fucking word until I tell you to put the hood back on."
The fag shut up and removed the hood. The Fireman neglected to mention that there was a light shining from the other side of His face directly into mine. It wasn't very bright, but having been blindfolded for so long, I had to squint so not to blind myself. I could barely see the outline of His lean and muscular body, nothing more.
SLAP
I winced from the instant assault on my stupid face. "Thank You, Sir. . . ."
"What the fuck did I say, fag? NOT A FUCKING WORD!" This time He simply punched me in the jaw, practically dislocating it. I didn't say a word, just moaned in fear, pain, and appreciation.
I was rewarded with an endless barrage of hard, burning slaps across my doltish faggot face. Hard and fast, never relenting. Getting more and more intense as They both got closer to release. Then bitchslaps morphing into punches as He grunted His seed deep inside Her.
As They caught their breath and relaxed in Their pleasure, He groaned His satisfaction to His fag. "Put on your hood, bitch, and get the fuck out of My sight. Maybe next time we'll let you lick My seed out of her pussy, fag." They both laughed as I went back to work spit-shining the crew's boots with a new understanding of just what a fag is to a Man.