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"Kyle , can we use your faggot".
Master and I had been out for just over an houR. I was wearing probably the most clothes I had for some time. Leather trousers, boots, and a leather shirt. After many months of not wearing them they were not exactly a perfect fit, that's what made me realise I had lost some weight, due to the restricted diet Master and others had imposed on me. This had been the first time out of the house for sometime, and I was initially apprehensive at the thought of being on the tube. The carriage was only half full but Master and I stood on either side of the sliding door for the whole journey. I had been instructed to look at him directly in the eye throughout. His eyes bore through me. At time they seemed cold and indifferent, and others warm and caring but always controlling. I had been told as I was walked behind him from the tube to the bar that that tonightI should be prepared to be known as faggot, or fag, "Consider it another step on your journey"
The warm air on my skin told me we were now in the middle of summer, one of those balmy August days that I used to cherish when I lived under the illusion that I was a man, a free one at that. I had been kneeling at Master's feet since we had arrived. I had spent the last 30 minutes or so at Master's feet, either on my knees silently, or on all fours licking his boots. Earlier he had taken great delight in parading me around the bar stopping to talk to anyone who I may have served over the years, taking the opportunity to point out that he was the one who had acted on what he called my natural slave status. This it became clear this was less to taunt his fellow leather man, but to remind me of my status.
"Kyle. Your fag."
"Of course you can Andy. Faggot get over there NOW." In the past I had often played with Andy. 5ft 7 , a well trimmed moustache . A night out without tasting the leather of his boots was always a disappointment. After the boot worship we would always chat and catch up on what we had been up to since we last met. Not this night.
He was there with his regular sidekick Phil, a fifty something muscle bear, I had always been wary of him, and had never approached him and in my new position that weariness was even stronger
"Ok faggot, stay there " He dropped a load of spit on to his boot, now get licking. I reached down and started to worship. As I did Phil boot moved over and stepped on my hand, he ground his foot making clear he had no intention of removing it just yet. This had the result that I was only able to focus on a small part of Andy's boot, the leather was now slick and wet, and if his comment to his co-tormentor was correct he could feel the wetness seep through the leather to his foot. Andy moved slightly allowing me access the shaft of the boot, at the same time Phil removed the pressure from my hand allowing me to grab Phil's boots with both hands, as I licked the shaft of the boot I felt a crop hit my butt. "Thank You Sir" then another, and another. This beating continued, the two leather men above me alternating their blows as I continued to worship the boot.
"Faggot watch" I looked up as Andy leant over and with a single tap a two inch ball of ash fellow to his boot, Greedily my attention moved to this gift and I swallowed the still warm morsel. The ash almost melted on my tongue, but it wasn't long before more spit indicated that I was expected to resume the licking. Phil's boot pressed onto my back pushing me further into the ground, as he did so the two men resumed the beating with the riding crops. I was starting tire and my reaction to the beating must have indicated that I needed a rest. I was pulled back up onto my knees, Andy lifted my head. His Muir cap almost obscured his eyes but he could clearly see mine as he spat directly into my face.
"That's enough for now Faggot get back to Kyle. We'll call you when we need you again."
"Enjoy that faggot?" I wanted to tell Master that I hated that word but was unsure how to, or indeed why, after all as his property he could call me anything he wanted. "Yes, Master" He leant down and whispered in my ear. "Good Boy"
Master led me back inside. Inside sitting down Master spotted a young leatherman, mid twenties at most. Master walked up to him, at first the man looked rather dubious, then he smiled and nodded. Master came back to me, go over there and ask permission to clean his boots, and start with the soles.
I crawled over, and knelt in front of him, I watched as he took a swig from a bottle of beer, then another. He spat on the floor, it was unclear if the fact that it missed me was intentional or not, "Speak" "Sir can I lick your boots?" "What?, why would I let you near these, they cost a fortune." He took another sip of his beer. I looked around nervously Master water was leaning against the opposite wall. He nodded and waved his hand. "Please Sir may I lick your boots" "No." He lifted one of the boots, the light from the bar reflected in the leather.I moved closer
He suddenly stood up, and slapped me round the face. "Now ask me properly. And no you won't be licking them you will be worshipping them, like the fag slave that you are." He slapped me hard again.
"Sir can this faggot please worship Sir's boots?"
"I thought you'd never fucking ask you pathetic little cunt. Now get going"
He stepped back against his spot along the wall, I hurried forward I had to make sure i did nor lose the opportunity to worship his boots. As I did he caught my head in a pincer my neck was now between each boot. He wasn't going to make it easy to carry out his order. When he relaxed the grip I took a deep breath and finally my tongue was travelling g down the length of the leather .He hopped back on his seat and tapped his inside thigh I positioned my self between them as he placed on leg on each shoulder. "Smell the leather cunt. Taste the leather." He then poured some of the beer from his bottle along the left boot. I continued to worship. From the corner of my eye I saw him removed a crop from his boot I was apprehensive at first but relaxed when he tapped his right boot. I transferred my attention to where he had tapped, this continued for the next twenty minutes or so left the right, the toe , then the heel, the sole , then back to the toe. As I worshipped he spat, the back of my head the target.
"Turn round" I positioned my self so I was kneeling and looked up at him. He lent over and a huge gob of spittle covered my face. "Thank You Sir" "So faggot do you like serving younger men. I should have got you to call me Daddy" I felt my face go red, He was right I was almost old enough to be his father, but here he was towering over me, a Man, whilst I was a pathetic slave. "Go on call me Daddy, and thank me" "Thank You D.d.d.d daddy"I stuttered. He kicked me "Thank me again." "Thank you" "Thank you what?" I was about to say Daddy again when "That's it that enough. Come here Boy" It was Phil. He was eye to eye to the young man there was at least twenty years difference between them probably thirty.
As Phil held my face against his muscular thigh, almost petting me he squared up to my tormenter. "You need to learn boundaries, and remember you are not so old that I can't put you over my knee and give you a spanking. Understand" The nervous "Yes Sir" that came out of his mouth was such a contrast that I was taken aback.
"Come on Boy , let's go outside. I need an ashtray" "Yes Sir" I whispered as I crawled after him back to the warm summer air.
"Stay there You" Phil unzipped his trousers, he reached in and pulled out his dick. "I've been bursting for a piss" I looked up and saw a smile across his face. He mouthed an encouraging " go on"
As the last few drops of piss fellow down my throat Phil pushed his dick back into his trousers.
"Hold my leg boy, let me know when you are settled, and we can begin" Although serving as his urinal had settled me slightly I was still shaken after my session with the young leatherman, but the scent of Phil's leather soon started to have an effect on me, and I slide down his leg and began to lick his boot.
"Good faggot" In the space of a few minutes I had turned from Boy to Fag. For the first time in ages I felt the agony of my dick as it strained against the cage. I whimpered "Thank You Sir as I spat on to the boot before resuming my worship. He suddenly tapped me on the head. "Over there". He pointed to a chair I crawled over I turned my head and watched as he looked at the tip of his cigar, and smiled. Walking over he stood above me "Kneel" Open" I got on to my knees and open my mouth, over an inch of ash was placed on my tongue. I watched as he removed the cigar placed it back in his mouth"Swallow" He sat down, removing his riding crop he tapped his boot. "Back to work Faggot"