A kinky story written by Naughty Bard | Chapter 5

Click here to see all published chapters. | Illustration by Theo Blaze.

As it turned out, Kieran’s idea of the dog thing was a little more literal than I had anticipated. He had even gone to the trouble of buying me a collar and a leash that I had to wear at all times while we were together. The moment I set foot into his house I was to take off all of my clothes in the entrance hall (‘cause obviously dogs don’t need them, right?), put on the collar, attach the leash to it, put the leash in my mouth, go down on all fours, crawl upstairs and meet his cute face. I usually found him in bed, stretching, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his bright green eyes so I would crawl over to him, happily handing him the leash and he would smile at me.

“Hey bitch…” he would grumble in his cocky morning baritone, patting my head while waking up from yet another hot and sticky night Florida-summer-style.

“Hop on the bed, time to feed you.”

He would say cheerfully and I would oblige with a happy “Yes Kieran!” His glorious morning wood would appear to me under his clammy, piss-stained boxers and I would rub my face on them for a few seconds just to inhale his pungent, dominant boyish smell, then I would take them off impatiently, put his unwashed, super tasty cock in my cumdump mouth and start servicing him. He would usually let me suck it for a minute or so still yawning or scratching his pits, then he would grab my head and start thrusting his hips upwards, screwing my throat the way he liked to do to maximize HIS pleasure which at this point was pretty much the only thing that really mattered to the both of us. I didn’t usually have to wait too long for him to shoot my extra sticky breakfast down my throat. Damn, what a feeling! After his balls were pleasantly emptied and he was satisfied he would let go of my head, sigh contentedly and relax a little while letting me clean him up good.

This is when I would take the time to say stuff like, “Thank you so much for your cum Kieran!” in a corny stupid, almost girlish voice to which he hardly ever responded anymore, if not with a snicker, as I would hungrily continue to use my tongue on his sweaty pubes, balls and dick till his perfect crotch was nice and clean.

He would then say, “Get to work bitch!” usually accompanied with a couple of slaps on my face or a decisive nudge on my head and I would get off the bed and start cleaning his room. I was only allowed to stand up and use my hands if I had to hoover or clean his bathroom or stuff like that. Everything else I would do with my mouth, which meant it took me a hell of lot longer than before. But it was so worth it! Yeah, you heard me! I mean, come on! Being on all fours (and naked) all the time had totally added new excitement to the whole thing! I got to look at him from the position I liked best, it felt so… well… natural I’d say… to be like that in front of him and to have him ruffle my head or praise me whenever I was particularly good or quick at something. Besides I just loved using my mouth on his things. Ok, not the trash, but his clothes and shoes! I would always make sure I could smell his odor while I was biting on his sweaty t-shirt or his worn out sneakers.

His feet, oh my god! They had become my new fixation. They smelled so bad all the time but I couldn’t help putting my face near them. They were so perfectly soft and pink, it was annoying! I had no control whatsoever! I know I’ve said it before but fuck, it’s what it felt like! There was this thing I’d do every now and then: when he wasn’t paying attention to me, maybe because he was leisurely texting or playing one of his games: I would lower my face to the ground and kiss one of his feet a couple of times, gently, then I would look at him and say: “Thanks for letting me serve you like this Kieran…” with the most grateful smile I could muster and, if I was lucky, he would flash his hot cocky smirk at me, and in my head it was like he was smiling back. Some other times he wouldn’t even look at me but he would at least say something like  “No problem, bitch!” always with that amused, conceited expression of his which kept my dick hard 24/7.

I don’t really know why but that simple gesture of kissing his feet felt so intimate and personal, sort of like it was our thing, you know what I’m saying? It was my way of expressing what I felt for him, which was clearly very different from what he felt for me, but I was ok with that! He could treat me however he wanted it was still our thing, and it felt like it was kinda… sacred. There I said it! Hey what do you want? I think you can tell by now that this ain’t gonna be one of your typical happy-ending, feel-good, lovey dovey, mumbo-jumbo bedtime stories your mummy used to read to you when you were a kid! I had fallen for him. Hook, line and fucking sinker! He knew it and he was taking advantage of me, big fucking time! Ok maybe it took me a little longer to realize it completely but I was just living the moment, you know? No time to overthink things! I just went with what felt good. Can you blame me?

Anyway, a few days passed by and on a Thursday morning I found myself getting to his house a little later than usual and I was about to take my clothes off but his head popped out the door of his room.

“Good, you’re here. Don’t get naked.” He said coming down the stairs “Just follow me.” He only had his shorts on and was barefooted. He opened the front door and got out in the bright sunshine. I followed him curiously to the tool shed they had in the backyard.

“All right…” he started. “I talked my mom into giving me 40 bucks if I mow the lawn, so…” he opened the door of the shed “…here’s the mower, fag, get to work!” he said happily. I hesitated a second.

“…o…ok… but what about cleaning your room?” I said, a little disappointed that I wasn’t gonna spend the morning with him.

“You’ll do that later of course, bitch!” he answered like it was such an obvious thing that my question all of a sudden sounded so stupid.

“Hum… but I won’t get to spend any time with you…” I sounded so sad you would have thought someone had run over my puppy or something.

“I’m heading to the beach anyways, I won’t be home until later this afternoon.” he said highly unconcerned, stretching his arms and yawning widely.

“Ok…” I murmured with such a devastated tone it was way beyond ridiculous. He looked at me for a second, grinned and shook his head.

“Fuck, you’re hopeless!” He commented, then “Hey! Look at it this way!” He said “I get to hang out with my friends while you’re stuck here busting your ass for me so I can get some cash! Can you think of anything that would make a submissive faggot bitch like you happier?” he spread his hands and looked at me, sneering waiting to see how I would react. I mused for a moment.

“Well I… I hadn’t thought of that…” I said and he smirked.

“Of course you didn’t, cause you’re stupid!” he derided me “You should really leave the thinking to me, faggot, hehehe!!” he added arrogantly.

Slowly I smiled “…thank you Kieran!” I said and without even checking if some of the neighbours were looking I fell on my knees and lowered myself till my lips were on his feet.

“Anytime faggot! Any-fucking-time! Hehehe!” he snickered. I kissed them a few times and he let me. “You know, I think every straight guy should have a pathetic homo like you to serve them!” he said after a few seconds “It should be in the friggin’ constitution or something! One of those rights we get when we turn twelve or thirteen, hehe!”  I kept kissing trying to picture what he was saying “There should be like… ‘fag shelters’ where they should round you up like mutts and let us pick the one we want! Wouldn’t it be awesome, bitch?” he snickered.

Well to be honest, that was a pretty horrifying scenario and I didn’t know what other ‘homos’ would think of his brilliant idea but I sure was grateful to have found him! Of course that wasn’t my reply. All I said was: “Yes Kieran, you’re right…” He cackled, pleased.

“And you should all have like a sign…” he continued “…or even better, a tattoo, that says ‘I’m a fag’ or something…” I was tenting up now “…right here on your forehead so we straight boys would know how to treat you.” He was being particularly mean this morning which I, for one, didn’t mind at all. “School would be much more fun for us that way, wouldn’t you say?” he teased and I simply went: “Uh huh…” and kept kissing. He snorted, then, after a few more moments:

“Awright, enough with this shit, get to work bitch!” and he walked towards the house leaving me there.

And so I obediently started to cut the grass. I decided to do his front lawn first and by the time he came out of the house, half an hour later, with his skateboard, sunglasses on, looking like a million bugs, I had already worked up a sweat. He smiled at me and said casually and loud enough for everyone to hear, “Later fag!” and within seconds the only thing that was left of him was the sound of his skateboard on the asphalt.

I sighed following him with my gaze until he disappeared at the end of the street then went back to work, as determined as ever, to make him proud… you know… as his dog.

It took me hours to finish. Their backyard was ginormous, they even had a small pool with a slide we had used many times together. But I didn’t mind. I actually took my sweet time to finish, I didn’t wanna risk doing a hasty job. Like I said, I wanted him to be proud of me.

At about one thirty I put the mower back in the shed and moved into the house. I was so sweaty I went to the bathroom to freshen up a little. I realized that I was hungry as hell after all that exercise but I thought it was probably better to finish all my chores before taking a break, in case he decided to come back home earlier.

So I went to his room. I immediately noticed a pair of used boxers on the floor. I picked them up, sniffed them and smiled contently. I put them in my mouth and started tidying up. I was done in less than an hour. I moved to the bathroom and cleaned it as well.

His hamper was practically empty, so there was no point in doing his laundry yet.

Regretfully there was nothing else I could do so I just sank on the floor crosslegged and waited for him, chewing, famished, on his dirty underwear.

Now, you know how the mind works, right? When you got nothing to do you start thinking, then obsessing and you usually end up doing something pretty dumb. It was almost four when I lost it. I missed him so much I thought I was gonna go crazy. I know, I know… Drama Queen, I get it, ok? Anyways, I grabbed my phone and called him.

“What do you want?” Saying that his tone was annoyed when he answered would be putting it mildly. My heart was racing like a fucking horse.

“Uhm… Kieran… uhm… hi…” I stammered “are… are you… like… coming home?” I left it hanging. He snorted on the other side.

“What the fuck, bitch! What are you, my girlfriend?” I heard a lot of laughs on the line, and not just his. My face turned beet-red. All of a sudden I knew I had screwed up. Big time.

“No… I just…”

“Leave me the fuck alone! I’ll call you when I need you!” and with that he hung up.

I stared at the screen of my phone, speechless. His voice had been so… mean. He sounded angry… which was kinda weird for him. Of course I was hurt pretty bad and my eyes started to water up. No surprise there. I was a fucking wimp! I wallowed in my pain and self-pity for a few tragic minutes, drying up my tears with the back of my hand. Then when the waterworks were finally over I decided that I was done and, dropping his boxers in the hamper, I went home.

Wow, I had made him mad probably for the first time… like ever. What a colossal moron I’d been. And I thought he was gonna ruffle my hair and tell me what a good job I had done. Yeah, fat chance! I was miserable, really miserable for the next couple of hours, probably more miserable than I had ever been.  Then my phone made a familiar noise. It was a text… from him… my heart started pounding again.

“Hey fag! My place 7:30, the ‘rents are out. Ordered pizza at Luigi’s. Pick it up!” and there was a smiling face.

You know that sense of relief you get when something bad you were afraid was gonna happen doesn’t actually happen and it’s like someone is pouring fresh water on you to wash away all of your fears and shit? Well, that’s exactly what was going on with me in that precise moment. With one little text all of a sudden all my worries had disappeared like nothing bad had ever happened between us! He wasn’t angry at me at all, he was probably just goofing off on the phone cause his friends were around and I hadn’t picked up on it. Fuck, now that I thought about it, it was a Thursday night! What an idiot, of course he was texting me! Thursday was movie night for us! You know, one of those cheesy things you do when you’re a kid! But we liked it and even if we hadn’t done it in a while I was positive it was gonna be just perfect! We were gonna watch some new flick he had downloaded while eating pizza, then raid his mom’s pantry and stuff our faces with all kinds of junk food until we were nauseated. Just a typical Thursday night. I was on friggin’ cloud nine again.

I happily told my mom that I was going to Kieran’s for dinner and surprisingly she didn’t give me any trouble even if it was almost dinner time. Go figure!

I quickly showered and changed, hopped on my bike and hurried to Luigi’s. The pizza guy gave me one medium one. Now that was odd. It was pretty big for one guy but for two hungry teenagers… I asked him if he was sure about it but he nodded convinced. Frowning a little, I paid and left, but I didn’t make a big deal out of it! Who cared about the friggin’ pizza!

I got to his house ten minutes earlier, opened the door and let myself in: “Kieran!” I said excitedly.

“I’m up here!” His voice was predictably coming from his room. I smiled and climbed the stairs two at a time to enter his room which, guess what? Was a mess. Already. It was unbelievable how fast he could mess it up. It had to be a record of some sort, I mean, c’m on! He turned to me and gave me a WTF look that spoke volumes.

“Why are you wearing clothes?” he said annoyed, “and why the fuck are you standing, bitch?” he continued with his arms spread.

“Oh… I…. I’m sorry…” I stuttered, put the pizza on the nightstand and stripped naked in like six seconds. He stood there looking at me. He wasn’t wearing a shirt which already made my dick stir. I went down on all fours and apologized again “I’m sorry Kieran, I forgot…” I said lamely looking up to him.

“You’re a lousy dog.” he informed me with a cocky grin and a lofty tone in his voice sitting himself on the edge of his bed “First you call me in the middle of the afternoon while I’m having fun with my friends to check if I’m coming home?” he said with defiling fake outrage “To you? Seriously? What the fuck was that about?” he asked  “That’s not how this works, bitch! I call you, not the other way around!” he told me arrogantly, then added with a smirk “Stupid faggots like you are not allowed to fucking do that!” he happily continued to patronize me while I didn’t make a sound. “And now you fucking forget to crawl in MY presence?!” again fake outrage permeated his tone as he shook his head disapprovingly. “Tsk, tsk! Bad dog!”

I looked down, then mumbled submissively: “I… I said I was sorry…”

“Yeah, ‘sorry’ ain’t gonna cut it this time, fag!” he said amused “You need to be punished.” he gave me a shit eating grin.

“What?” I said.

“You heard me,” he replied. “I could yell at you and tell you not to do it again but you wouldn’t understand, you’re just a dog, right?” he looked at me with one of his eyebrows raised.

After a few seconds I smiled too and admitted: “Yeah, and apparently not a very smart one…” I joked hoping to amuse him a little so that I could maybe get away with the whole thing. It only partially worked.

He laughed all right but: “Hehehe! Damn true, fag! You’re a stupid bitch that needs to be punished!”

I looked down again and groaned, “Yes Kieran…” His worn out Nikes were in front of me.

“Now, let’s see… lay on your back.” I heard his voice and I looked up at him.

“Come on, do it!” he said getting up from the bed. I did as I was told.

“Good. Now spread your legs for me.” I frowned slightly but obeyed. He lifted his foot and pressed it slightly on my crotch. I flinched and instinctively closed my legs to protect my junk but…

“Keep your legs open, bitch.” he ordered, amused.

“Kieran… what are you going to do?” I asked now seriously worried. He grinned evilly at me.

“What do you think, fag?” he said and decisively pressed his foot down on my balls. I yelped loudly and my hands went to stop him. “No hands, bitch!” he said and I removed them from his sneaker. The pressure eased up a little.

“Kieran… I’m sorry… so sorry…” I whimpered and he grinned.

“Sorry for what, cum tank?” my heart was racing.

“For calling you to…today…” I stuttered. He moved his foot a bit pressing lightly on my dick and my balls, totally digging the power-rush he was getting.

“And why is that?” I hesitated a second too long.

“Wh… why is…” I repeated stupidly and he pressed hard again.

“Yes bitch, why are you sorry you called me?” he said louder than my moans of pain, then eased up again.

“B… because I shouldn’t have…” my eyes were watering from the pain but there was literally nothing I could do, he was trampling my friggin’ balls.

“And why not?” he asked ever so amused. Again I hesitated and the pain came back stronger than ever. Fuck, he was crushing them!

“Aaaaaahhhhhh!!! Kieran please!” I pleaded but he continued:

“Tell me why YOU shouldn’t have called ME, you worthless cocksucker!” he raised his voice. I was crying now and broke down completely.

“Aaaaaahhhhh!!! Because I’m not allowed to do that!” I screamed “I’m not your girlfriend! I’m… I’m… I’m not even your friend anymore! Aaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!! I’m just your fap toy, a stupid, inferior, submissive faggot bitch who worships you so much he’ll do anything for you!!! ANYTHING!!!! Aaaaaaahhhhh!!!” I blurted out desperately and I heard him laugh his ass off as he removed his foot and I rolled over clutching my sore junk sobbing. He started clapping.

“Hahahaha! Well said, bitch! hahaha! I wasn’t sure you had it in you yet!” he sneered as I heard him walk round me till his shoes were right in front of my face. I looked up at him still crying. I was fucking mad at him! He had gone too far this time!

“Oh, come on don’t gimme that look, faggot, you know you deserved it!” he said. I lowered my eyes and didn’t say a thing, I just laid there pouting, sobbing and looking terribly hurt. He snorted, rolling his eyes upwards.

“Come on bitch, I didn’t hurt you all that bad!” he said with an appealing hint of sympathy he definitely did not want me to miss. He crouched down. Reluctantly I looked up at his ginger hair, his cute green eyes, his confident grin, his sexy hairless torso and, against my better judgement, I instantly realized that there was no way I could hold a grudge, not towards him.

I wiped off the tears and gave him a tentative smile, shaking my head. He held his grin, still cocky and arrogant but maybe not so evil anymore, or so it appeared to me.

“I’m… I’m sorry Kieran… for real…” I whimpered. “It won’t happen again… I swear…” He snickered, pretty pleased with my words and even more so with my shamelessly doormat-like tone.

“That’s a good little faggot bitch!” He ruffled my hair and everything was all right again.

I think I almost purred when I said, “Can we have dinner now?” He frowned, amused. Then smirked.

“Guess I forgot to feed you today, didn’t I?” he snickered “Well I got a nice pepperoni pizza all for me…” he pointed out casually “…but what could I feed you?” he taunted. I would lie if I told you I wasn’t a little surprised or disappointed by that answer but I guess I should have seen it coming. “Mmmmm…. I gotta think about this for a second…” he said standing up and smirking down at me.

“Hold still!” he said as he lifted his foot. He used my head as a lever to take off his sneakers. Then he lifted one of his socked feet and pressed it down heavily on my face. “Here, have a little treat while I figure this one out, hehehe!” I thought I was gonna pass out. The warm masculine musk was so nasty it almost made me gag. His boy foot was so damp I clasped it in my hands, afraid he might take it away from me and I inhaled deeply.

“Mmmm… it smells so strong Kieran…” I said in a trance. When I opened my eyes his phone was in his hands.

“Hehe! I’ll bet, it was like 110 degrees today and I’ve been skating in those shoes since this morning! Never took ‘em off for a second!” he sneered distractedly while answering a text probably from one of his annoying skater-buddies “Those fuckers must be all ripe and sweaty and they need to be washed so bad…” he continued with an amused tone without looking at me.

I was good, I actually resisted for a whole second and a half before I offered: “Let me me lick them! Please Kieran!” he smirked, still not looking at me.

“What was that bitch?” he said amused rolling my head under his foot like he would a soccer ball.

“Let me lick your feet clean, please!” he looked down at me.

“Hang on a second bitch!” he said trying really hard not to laugh “What about your dinner?” Now what do you think I answered? Yep!

“But… but that is my dinner Kieran!” I urged him, begging. He laughed a little, still holding the phone in his hand.

“Really?” he said with heavy sarcasm. “Is that what you wanna eat, bitch? My toe-jam?” he was giggling between words now it was painful to watch. And yet so fucking hot!

“Yes! Yes! I’ll lick the sweat and grime off your feet for you while you watch the movie! Please Kieran! Let me do it! Please! There’s nothing I want more!” at this point he cracked up again.

“Hahahahaha! Well that’s settled then! Hahaha! Now that you mention it, that’s the perfect dinner for a lowly faggot like you, don’t you think? Hahahaha!” I knew he was playing me like a little puppet. That was his idea all along but making me do it wasn’t enough. I had to beg for it and he was 100% positive that I was gonna go for it. How did he know? No idea. Of course he was right, there was no chance in hell I was gonna pass up that kind of opportunity!

He pressed my face down and held me there ignoring me and letting me sniff his stink for a few seconds longer while he was still texting and snickering at whatever his friends were writing back. Then he grabbed his pizza and went to sit on his reclining chair in front of his 60-inch screen. My body acted on his own. He didn’t have to say a word. I was freakishly quick to slip myself under him and then I looked at him expectantly with an eagerness to serve that was becoming pathological. I wanted him to be comfortable even though I wasn’t and in that position he could rest his feet directly on my face. It was just perfect. Of course that wasn’t lost on him. He sneered.

“Know what bitch? I think I need to squash your nuts more often…” he said amused. “That pathetic look you got on you fag face is fucking awesome! Hahaha!” He didn’t give me time to process his words, he just covered my face with his stinky feet, cackling:

“Enjoy your dinner, homo!”

Almost two hours later I had pins and needles all over my legs and butt. I had licked every inch of those feet so thoroughly my tongue was killing me. All the sweat, the filth, the toe-jam, the dirt was gone. My face was a mess. It was all sticky and smelly and gross, not to mention my mouth. Gawd! I had the most awful taste glued to my buds. But that didn’t really matter all that much. His feet were clean now and I was so fucking proud of myself.

He had watched the entire film without talking to me. Not once. He had eaten almost all of his pizza, drunk a couple of beers he had snatched from his dad’s stash, smoked a few cigs and chillaxed big time, commenting on the hot chicks or the cool action scenes in front of his eyes. I wasn’t stupid enough to think he was sharing those comments with me, I knew better by then. To be fair he had glanced in my direction a few times but just to smirk at me and then had gone back to his main entertainment. When the end titles started to roll he switched off the TV and finally looked down.

“That was awesome…” he said to me cheerfully, then he mocked “…too bad you didn’t get to see it, hehehe!”

“It’s ok…” I tried to answer without stopping my tongue which was not easy. “ Licking your feet clean was way better…” He snickered.

“And why is that?” I decided to go for the truth.

“Well it was more important…” I said adoringly “They were so dirty and gross and you wanted them nice and clean… I just had to do it…” I wanted to make it up to him for the way I had screwed up before. Besides I was pretty much being honest with my feelings. He laughed at me.

“Hahahaha! Fuckin’ A right, bitch! I love they way your inferior fag brain works! Hahahaha!” he said totally entertained.

“It was so nice of you to let me lick them, you know?” I tried to overdo it a little. My voice was girly and stupid again. He ignored me and lit up another cigarette. So I tried again.

“Thank you for such a tasmmmmmmppppfff….” he slid forward in his chair to get more comfortable, crossed his feet at the ankle and pressed the soles hard down on my mouth completely shutting me up with such an overbearing couldn’t-give-a-shit attitude which was impressive even for him.

“Aaaahhhh… this is the fucking life…” he commented self-satisfied, blowing out the smoke. I didn’t answer that. I couldn’t. It was pretty obvious that he had lost interest in me. All he wanted was to feel my tongue worship his perfect feet and not hear my petulant voice fawn over him. And I could totally understand that! I mean even I was annoyed by it! But it was like I wasn’t even important enough to him to actually tell me to shut the fuck up. Cause that would have meant wasting his breath on a stupid faggot bitch and I sure as hell knew I didn’t deserve that much regard. I had all these emotions in me and I couldn’t stop staring at the way he was ignoring me. God he was so butch and cocky, my mind went blank. I tripled my efforts and licked his soft skin like there was no fucking tomorrow, stuck in a position that was now even more uncomfortable than before.

He grabbed his iPhone and started playing with it. I was wondering when I would be allowed to stop but he must have liked having me there a lot cause he didn’t give any sign that he was gonna let me out any time soon.

It was just as well. Ok I was totally uncomfortable all cramped up under his chair but it’s not like I wasn’t having the time of my life! Besides I had something on my mind and I guessed that was as good a time as ever to ask a question I had been mulling over. But I had to wait for the right moment, I didn’t wanna bother him! What if he was gonna get angry again? So I held my breath and savored his now clean feet.

After fifteen minutes or so he looked up from his phone to get another cigarette. There was my chance!

“Kieran?” He blew the smoke out of his nose.

“What?” I was kinda nervous but I took a deep breath.

“What I said before… when you were… hum… punishing me…” he smiled.

“Which part?” he answered cruelly. He knew exactly what I was talking about but he wanted me to say it again. Why was my dick so hard?

“You know… that I’m just your fap toy, a stupid, inferior, submissive faggot bitch who worships you so much he’ll do anything for you…” I recited in one breath. Hell if I know how I had memorized that phrase! He enjoyed my words even more than the first time.

“Oh, that bit…” he teased smirking “yeah, what about it?” And there I went.

“Is… is that really what you think of me? Honest…” my voice was almost begging on that last word. I had to know for sure.

He smiled at me for an instant before giving me a crushing, “Yep, pretty much…”

I stuck my tongue between two of his toes for the umpteenth time that night.

“So… we’re really like… not friends anymore?” I kinda suspected the answer of course but I guess I needed to hear it from him. I know, pure masochism, right?

He snorted. “Dude, be serious! How the fuck can you ask me that after spending two hours licking my feet! Not even homos can be that stupid!” he said with such an arrogant tone I started salivating like crazy. But I wasn’t through humiliating myself in front of the boy who had become pretty much the only reason I woke up in the morning.

“So you don’t care about me?” I asked in that same petulant voice. He laughed coldly:

“Hahahaha! Sure faggot! You’re my fucking soul mate! Hahahaha!” He derided me with such a defiling tone he gave me chills. I moaned, still licking passionately, waiting for him to stop laughing.

“So you’re just… using me?” I asked forcing my aching tongue to lick better and faster. He looked at me for another second like he was thinking about it. He didn’t need to of course, he probably wanted to savor the moment while his beautiful smirk kept crushing me with every passing instant.


“And abusing me?” he gave another one of his honest answers.

“Yep!” I was licking furiously now.

“Just for fun?” my voice was back on that corny, adoring drawl and he was so amused.

“Yep!” then he laughed so full of himself I almost cummed “Took you long enough to figure it out, fag! You really are a stupid one, aren’t you? Hehehe!” I smiled at him a little ashamed but kept licking.

“So… I really am your plaything?” he smirked.

“My plaything?” he took a puff, held it in for a couple of seconds, then put his feet on my chest and stood up.

“I think we’re way past that, bitch.” his smoky words came out as he placed his foot on my face and crushed it. “You…” he said balancing his whole weight on me “…are my slave…” he informed me as calm and entertained as always and a chill ran through my whole body as my slow mind, in all its obtuse naiveté, was finally making out a blurred notion that had been there for a while but was now crystal clear. “I own your queer ass, you hear me?” he was looking down at me, waiting for an answer.

“Yes Kieran…” I managed to say under his foot. He was hurting me a little but his  triumphant smile was awesome.

“Say it bitch! Come on! Say you’ll be my slave for as long as I wanna use you.” he ordered trying to stand on my face with both his feet. My skin was hurting like crazy but I was so excited about the news!

“Yes Kieran!” I said promptly “I’ll be your slave for as long as you want!” my words were all muffled and he was crushing my nose so I turned my head sideways to make it easier for him to keep his balance. He laughed a little.

“Hehe! Damn right you will, faggot! Hehehe!” he answered, then added “And stop calling me by my name! You’re not even a person to me anymore, you should show me some respect!” he chuckled. “Call me Sir or Master!” He was having the time of his life and I just couldn’t ruin it.

“Yes Master!” I said as the last of my dignity was sacrificed to him “Thank you Master!” I added and he started laughing and threw himself back on his chair.

“Jesus Christ! You’re so fucking pathetic it’s hilarious, cum-breath! Hahahaha!” he said and he slapped my face with his foot a few times “I bet your stuck-up parents would be sooooo proud of the way you turned out! Hahahahaha!!!” he teased and I laughed too. Come on that was funny!  I started licking his foot again. God I couldn’t get enough!

“Mmmmmmm…. Master… why can’t I stop tasting your feet?” I whined. He shook his head.

“Haven’t we been over this? You’re hooked, that’s why!” he explained simply “See, there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it! That’s the kinda shit you were born for, slave!” He was so dead on, every single fucking time he spoke!

“You always have all the answers…” I said adoringly “…it’s like you… you…”  I struggled to give voice to my thoughts “…you understand my feelings way better than I do…” I continued in an impulse. He laughed.

“Of course I do, bitch! I’m your Master, I know what’s best for you! Hehehe!” he said matter-of-factly. Then after a couple of seconds he confessed “Besides that website I told you about helped me understand how your faggot mind works!” I looked at him not knowing exactly what to say but still unable to stop my tongue from licking his feet. He smirked. He could read me like an open book.

“Don’t worry homo, I’ll make it easy for you!” he said “There are winners, like me who always get what they want in life…” he started explaining holding up a hand “…then there are losers who have to do what we tell them…” he continued taking another puff.

“And I’m a loser, right?” I asked like an eager fifth grader. He laughed.

“No, bitch.” he said amused “You’re lower than that.” he informed me. “Stupid faggot slaves like you are like objects we get to use to have fun… just like you said, hehehe!” he said snickering, but I was pretty sure he meant every word. I didn’t know what to make of it! It was way too much information for one time. Reading my expression:

“Still confused? Let me put it this way, cocksucker…” he said and took another puff probably for suspense.

“Licking straight guys’ stinky feet will probably be the greatest thing you’ll ever do in your sorry life! Hehehe!” he mocked. I giggled stupidly and he continued even more amused.

“And the fact that you’re so fucked up you’re laughing about it is so fucking pathetic I could almost feel sorry for you…” He left it hanging, rubbing his spit-covered soles on my face with the same defiling smirk on his cute face before crushing me yet again with an indifferent “…if I gave a shit, that is. Hehehehe!!” he snickered and I don’t know how but with every nasty comment he shot at me I was loving him more and more. But not like a lover! No. Like he really was my master. Fuck, he had been right! He was! A god, even! I remember I started to moan softly while my sore tongue was going nuts.

He took another puff and stood silent for a minute or so. Then a smile brightened his piercing eyes. He looked at me with that impish expression he always had when he had just come up with another way to… shall we say ‘misbehave’?

“You know what? We gotta celebrate your new status! Hehehe!” he snickered and I smiled.

“Sure! How?” I asked excitedly and he grinned.

“I was saving this for a little later in your training but what the hell!” he took an empty beer bottle from the floor and stood up, this time not on me fortunately, he spread his legs and put his feet on the floor, one at each side of my body. Then he put his cigarette in his mouth, took out his dick, put the bottle underneath it and started pissing inside it.

I watched in horror because although it was clear to me now that I was a stupid, inferior faggot bitch, I guess I was smart enough to suspected what was coming. Big drops of his hot piss fell down on my naked chest. He wasn’t trying very hard to aim accurately but I couldn’t blame him. His slave was there after all, underneath him, it’s not like he was pissing on the floor, right? After a few seconds he stopped, though. Looked at me and smirked noticing my splashed chest.

“Ooops! hehehe!!!” he said mockingly, then he deliberately shook his still trickling dick all over my face. I took everything without even trying to dodge the piss drops. I laid still without making a sound and he kept snickering at how totally submissive I was.

“Here bitch!” he said then, bending over just a little to hand me the bottle “This is what faggot slaves like you should be drinking all the fucking time!” I took the bottle and looked at the liquid inside it. There wasn’t much of it. Maybe three quarters of a glass or so. But my stomach was closed as was my throat. My heart was racing as my whole body was telling… no, no… screaming at me, that that was NOT something I should have poured down my throat. I really did not wanna do it, and I was suddenly dreading what I knew I was gonna do anyway. Yes, because there he was asking… again, wrong word… more like telling me to drink it. And of course, he knew better, didn’t he? He was my master and no matter how miserable the things he wanted made me feel… you get the gist, right? I sat up and he sat back on his chair watching me. Seconds passed in silence.

“Do you… really want me to drink it?” I asked him stupidly. He gave me his best shit eating grin.

“Do it, bitch. Now.” he said with his usual amused calm. His voice had some sort of power over me, I swear.

“Yes Master…” I said. Then thought ‘Grin and bear, fag!’ so I smiled bitterly. “Cheers…” I said and he shook his head amused.

“Stupid faggot,” he sneered.

I put the bottle on my lips and all I could taste was acid. I licked it for a couple of seconds to get used to it. It was one thing licking the drops off his dick before blowing him, but this was so disgusting.

“Come on foot-licker…” he urged half laughing “Drink my fucking piss already! I bet it’s reeeeal tasty! Hahahaha!” with his hands behind his head, cig in his mouth, watching the scene with absolute delight.

And so I took a gulp. My first. I don’t think I can ever forget it. It was so hot and foamy. I grimaced and swallowed it almost immediately to avoid the taste as much as I could. I looked at him and he smirked approvingly.

“Taste good?”

Now I was gonna shrug and play it ‘cool’ and say something like “Yeah, it’s pretty refreshing, actually! Thanks!” But the moment I opened my mouth to speak I felt so sick I couldn’t control it. I covered my mouth with my hand and looked at him desperately.

“Don’t even think of barfing in my room, bitch, I’ll fucking kill you!!” he warned probably worried that I was gonna throw up all over him. So I got up and bolted for the toilet.

It felt like I was puking my guts out. Yet there was nothing there but a mouthful of his disgusting, yellow, foamy piss. My stomach was empty, I hadn’t had lunch or dinner (well except for his toe-jam but that hadn’t exactly filled me up) so there was literally nothing to puke. I coughed a few times, spitting out what I could.

“Well, well, well… guess my piss was a little too much for you after all, bitch?” he said in a mocking voice. I looked up at him truly mortified while I was hugging the toilet.

“I’m sorry Kieran… I mean Master!!” I corrected myself just in time. He flashed me a meaningful look. Then snickered and leaned against the wall standing next to the toilet.

“You know…” he continued with a lofty tone “I read that all faggot slaves love their master’s piss but maybe you don’t worship me enough…” he said shrugging ever so casually, like it was no big deal and happily watched my face turn to ash.

“No! No! Of course I like your piss Master! I love it! I’m sorry, I’m so stupid!” I exclaimed hitting my head hard a couple of times. You know that fine line that divides sanity from madness? Well, with that little phrase he had willingly given me a forceful push towards the latter. I was panicking big time and probably sounded like a raving lunatic and he was loving every second of it.

“I wanna drink your piss, Master! I wanna drink it so baaaad!!” I whined miserably. “Please train me! I swear I’ll learn! Please Master!” I begged deprived of anything even remotely resembling shame “Gimme one more chance, please!” I was completely out of my mind. The sole thought of disappointing him was unbearable. He was grinning from ear to ear and hearing my words made him burst out laughing.

“Hahahaha! You are so fucking predictable! You’re making this even too easy! Hahaha!!” he cackled. Then shook his head. “I really CAN do whatever the fuck I want with you! Hahahaha!!!” he said maybe more to himself than to me. My eyes were so earnest when I nodded and he smiled.

“All right, you dumb queer! Here comes lesson number one!” he said “Stick your head in the toilet.” I obeyed. But then I felt his foot pushing me further down “All the way, come on!” my lips were almost touching the water now and he pressure on my head disappeared. “That’s it! Now prepared to be baptized, bitch! Hahaha!!!” and with that he started to piss on my head.

“Thank you Master…” I murmured like a fanatic as I instinctively closed my eyes to avoid the urine. My heart was pounding with all the adrenaline rush.

“Aaaahhhhh! This is a great way to wash your hair, faggot! I gotta write it on that guy’s blog! Hahahaha!!!” he said entertained. “Come on! Start drinking it from the toilet! Don’t let it go to waste! I wanna fucking hear you slurp!” I stuck out my tongue and did as I was told. The second time was just as bad but I managed to hold it down. Then there was a third time… and a fourth.

“Come on bitch! Until you’ve learned to swallow my piss you won’t get to taste my cum!” he threatened and that of course was more than enough to make me start lapping up that piss water like it was fucking maple syrup. Needless to say he loved that. “Hahahaha!! That’s just awesome! Hahaha!!” I heard him laugh.  And after I gulped down a few more hot mouthful his golden stream started to become weaker.

“Aaaaahhhhh! Best leak I ever took! Hahaha!!” I heard him say when he was finished as I was still licking the toilet. “Look at me!” he ordered and I lifted my head but I couldn’t really open my eyes. He was snickering like crazy. “So how does it feel to be marked as my property, bitch?” he asked amused. I was a mess, physically and most of all emotionally but I smiled in the direction of his bossy teenage voice.

“It’s good, Sir…” I said. “Thank you for making me your slave…” I purred for his sole entertainment.

“Hehehe! Yeah, no problem, faggot!” he answered then.

“Tell me how happy you are that you’re gonna be drinking my piss from now on, bitch?” he continued, trying without much success not to laugh.

“I’m so happy, Master!” I said eagerly “So fucking happy!” I added even more convinced.

“Look at you! You’re fucking soaked in piss and your little clit is as hard as a rock!” he said disgusted “You’re the single most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen!” there was contempt in his words and he was right. My dick and balls were actually hurting with all that… stimulation. Why? Why was I like that? I was a freak, a crazy you-should-get-locked-up-in-an-asylum kinda freak. How could I be hard? How, for God’s sakes?

“I’m… I’m sorry Master…” was the only thing I managed to say.

“Open that hole on your stupid face, you fucking toilet!” he ordered more and more aggressively and I obeyed. He spit on my face twice. I didn’t move. Why bother at this point? Then he hocked up a huge loogie and dropped it on my tongue. “Swallow it!” he urged impatiently.

I did, then to make up for being so pathetic I said, “Thank you for your spit, Sir…” trying not to sound disgusted by it, which I was… a little. And aroused… a lot.

“That’s just perfect!” he snickered and as I tried to open my eyes I saw him playing with his phone again. Then he looked at me with revulsion.

“Here! Dry up!” his voice was less aggressive now. He gave me a piece of cloth and I started cleaning up a bit. I stank like a urinal. Literally. I looked at his smirk. He truly owned me. I hadn’t realized it before but now I did, it was obvious! How could I not see it? He had owned me from the moment I had agreed to give him head that first time, only a few weeks earlier.

But now I understood. And I know you won’t believe me when I say this but despite how anxious and scared and disgusted by myself I was, I couldn’t deny that deep down I was happy. In that moment I really felt happy and excited to be his slave. Whatever that meant. I was so transfixed by his green eyes that were completely ignoring me again, busy reading more funny texts from his buddy friends. Geez, he had spent the whole day with them! What could be so important?

Anyways I hadn’t even realized that what he had handed me was my t-shirt. I was drying his stinking piss from my face and hair with my t-shirt.

Looking up from his phone, he briefly smiled at me. “Now put it on and go home!” he ordered much to my dismay “And don’t you dare shower until tomorrow! Got it, slave?” I nodded enthusiastically. He smiled. “Never disobey me bitch, got it?” he said in a low dangerous tone. I shook my head vigorously.

“No Sir!” and he laughed.

“Hahaha!! Good! Now get outta here before my parents see you like that!”

I got up, got dressed and went home trying to hide my colossal boner, with so many thoughts in my head I knew I wasn’t gonna get much sleep, if any at all.

To be continued …

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