A kinky story written by Naughty Bard | Chapter 6

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

I woke up reeking of piss the next morning with blood-shot eyes and a headache. No, scratch that. You can only wake up if you actually manage to fall asleep. I hadn’t. I had tossed and turned all night long thinking about what had gone down the previous night. The things he had said, the way he had spoken to me and his expression. Of course I had had to get off twice to make my lust at least bearable.

Everything was so vivid in my mind, yet it seemed so surreal. I mean, he had pissed on me and made me his slave. What did that even mean, for god’s sakes? Slaves weren’t something that actually existed in the real world. All right, maybe a million years ago, sure! But not currently. There wasn’t a law that allowed him to do that to me, or anything. I was free to never see him again and forget about everything.

Yeah, right! Who was I kidding. It was exactly as he had said. That was the last thing I wanted to be… Free, I mean.

I don’t think I need to explain why, right? I mean, sure he was using me for his entertainment and he didn’t give a shit about me, he had made that crystal clear with actions as well as his words. But that’s what made it so hot for me. There I was lying in my bed, smelling his piss on my skin and hair, an awful taste in my mouth (and I mean truly disgusting) and yet my dick was hard as a rock.

I got up, grabbed the t-shirt I had worn the night before and locked myself in the bathroom. I pressed it against my face and the acrid, pungent smell of his piss filled my brain. I closed my eyes, thinking of his face, his cocky smirk, his defiling laughter and started to jack off a third time in a few hours. It took me about ten seconds to explode all over the bathroom floor.

I stood there panting and waiting for a little clarity of mind to kick in. It usually does when you stop being so damn horny and it lasts for an hour or two, if you’re lucky. In my case, half an hour was usually all I got. I used my dirty t-shirt to wipe out my cum while my brain was about to start analyzing my situation. It wasn’t that complicated to analyze, quite frankly. Plain and simple, there was no hope for me. I knew that, he knew that and, to my surprise I found myself realizing I was ok with that. I mean why the hell did I have to analyze the whole damn thing anyway? I sure as hell had never done it before! Couldn’t I just live the moment? What I was doing with Kieran didn’t hurt anyone, it was just between the two of us, it wasn’t like everybody knew about it. Just me and him and I was happy to behave like that when we were together! It was fucking hot and I didn’t wanna resist it even if I could. So what the hell was the problem? There wasn’t one, right? The little, almost inaudible voice inside my head was trying to convince me of the opposite, but why listen? I mean, giving in to pleasure was so much easier, not to mention how much better it made me feel, so why worry? I looked at my reflection in the mirror and congratulated myself for the nice little pep talk and temporarily silenced my conscience.

I jumped in the shower and made myself nice and clean again. I brushed my teeth (twice) and my tongue pretty hard because (check this out) the last thing I wanted to do was soil him. My cute master deserved a clean tongue to wash his hot, lean, filthy teen body.

I quickly got dressed and made a mental note that I was either gonna have to wash my piss-stained clothes myself or be prepared for a very awkward conversation with my mom. No problem, I was gonna do that in the afternoon, after lunch.

I rushed downstairs. The house was empty, as usual. I went out, hopped on my bike and started cycling towards his house.

That place was where it had all begun and it had become like a sacred haven for me. I don’t know how to explain it exactly but no matter how lowly and perverted the things he was gonna make me do were, I was safe there, it was me and him and that felt fucking great!

I got there in five minutes, stripped in the entrance hall, put on my collar, went down on all fours, crawled upstairs and entered his room. He was asleep. My fifteen-year-old former friend and current master looked so relaxed. He was wearing only his black Tommy Hilfiger boxers and his whole body was completely exposed to my lustful eyes. His expression was peaceful and calm on his cute face, partially covered by his long ginger hair.

I sat on my hind legs and silently looked at him for a while. I could hear his breathing and looked at his hairless chest going up and down ever so slowly. One of his hands was resting on his flat stomach, the other one was under his pillow. My eyes danced over his flawless fair skin, his thighs, his shins, his perfect feet. Then I went back up to his bulge. He wasn’t soft but not hard either, he was somewhere in the middle  Maybe I was witnessing the beginning of a morning wood, who knows? The point is he didn’t seem to have a care in the world. It was obvious that he had had a good night sleep, no worries, no thoughts, no nothing! The exact opposite of mine. And it all felt so damn right! Why would he be worried? Why? I was the pervert, the lowly, pathetic loser whose life had been taken over by his own faggy, submissive feelings, not him! So it was perfectly fair for me to have all the worries and for him to have all the fun. Damn, that felt good!

Once again, I couldn’t help but acknowledge how much I loved that cheeky skater boy. I know I probably said this before but bear with me, ok? I loved him. I fucking loved him! Not like a healthy bromance, not even romantic gay feelings towards another guy. No, it was anything but healthy, to be honest. I don’t know what it was exactly but it was much more powerful, like an addictive devotion that by now was way beyond my control.

I suddenly had the strong urge to do something I had dreamed about for so long. Kiss him. Like on the mouth. A nice, long, sweet, wet kiss. Of course I suppressed it immediately, then shuddered at the thought. I wasn’t allowed to have those urges, what the hell was I thinking?

“Stupid fucktard!” I said to myself “He’s not a faggot like you! He’s a straight guy which automatically makes him your superior! Not only that! He’s your master! Your MASTER!” I shouted in my head to give myself an overdue reality-check. If I wanted to use my lips that bad there was something I could do. I crawled towards him and gave him a kiss.

“There!” the voice in my head said. “That’s better! That’s where your mouth belongs. On the soles of his boy-feet.” I gave it another kiss. I had licked those feet for two hours the night before but he had clearly walked around barefoot because his soles were pretty damn dirty. They didn’t smell too bad this time, not after all that tongue action I had given them but I couldn’t just ignore it right? Of course I couldn’t! So I stuck my tongue out and started licking. Again, that felt so right!

After a few minutes he started stirring. His feet moved a little, then he turned on his side. His hand moved and I saw him scratch his ass cheeks and wished I could stick my nose between them. Then he groaned and slowly began to wake up. He turned again on his back and lifted his head a little, saw me, smirked, then abandoned his head on his pillow again and mumbled sleepily:

“Morning slave”

“Good morning, master…” I answered and saying it for the first time since the day before felt strangely natural, like I had always done it. He stretched and I watched his lean body tense up and show its muscles.

Then he yawned loudly and said, “Aaaahhhh, slept like a fucking log!” He stretched and yawned again, arching his feet, wiggling his toes and pressing them on my sore eyes. I kept licking, I didn’t know what to answer, I didn’t want to tell him that my night had been horrible.

“I’m happy for you, sir!” I finally said with a bit of embarrassment that made my voice sound higher and stupidly girlish. He smirked at me.

“Oh thank you, you sissy queer. Hehehe!” he snickered after pulling such a polite intonation with the first three words and then going back to his usual butch self. My dick started hardening and my mouth started watering. “Let me guess, you saw my feet were dirty and couldn’t help yourself, could ya?” he said, amused.

“Yeah… I though I cleaned them well last night…” I said apologetically, kinda blaming myself for something that couldn’t possibly be my fault.

He smirked. “Oh, you did, bitch! Hehehe!” he laughed, “but you see, after I kicked you out, Topher and Seth came over and we hung out in the backyard for a couple of hours. Shot some hoops, drank beer, talked about pussy… guy stuff, you know?” he explained smugly, then widened his grin. “Nothing a faggot would understand, hehehe!” Why did his continuous verbal abuse had to make me so horny?

“And you didn’t wear any shoes?” I asked excitedly.

“Nah, didn’t feel like it,” he shrugged, then added with a shit eating grin, “Besides the whole point of putting on shoes when you get out of the house is not to get your feet dirty…” he said “…but why would that be a problem for me?” His tone was so sarcastic. “I knew my dumb faggot slave was gonna lick them clean for me the second he saw them and without me even asking!” he snickered, “cause that’s what slaves are for, right bitch?” I moaned with pleasure before answering.

“Yes Master…” and started licking even harder. He snickered.

“So, you had my sweaty toe jam for dinner…” he teased “…and now this for breakfast…” he continued half laughing “…don’t you just love your life, fagboy?” he asked with his arms crossed behind his head and a smirk that was so hot I can’t even begin to describe it.

“Yes, sir…” I answered “…I do…” I said, so horny. He laughed softly.

“Fucking loser.” he said. Then I felt the foot I was licking getting away from my face. He was slowly bending his knee and I felt compelled to follow it. But just as I was getting closer he slapped my face pretty hard with it. I touched my cheek and looked at him confused. He was staring back at me with the most arrogant expression he could muster. Then he said brightly, “That was fun. Get your face closer, I wanna do it again.” I hesitated for a second or two.

“The longer you make me wait the harder I’ll kick you,” he continued cheerfully, which made me snap out of it. I put my face closer to his foot and watched him raise it until he hit me again, harder than the first time. It hurt a little. He laughed.

“Thank me, bitch.” he ordered smirking.

“Thank you, sir…” I said, going back to lick the foot that had just struck me and he laughed again.

“You know, you’re so pathetic I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it! Hehehe!” he laughed, then “Beg me to kick you again, you stupid cunt,” he added.

To be honest I didn’t wanna be kicked again but the order he had just given me and the arrogant tone of his teen morning baritone was making me so hard I just had to obey.

“Please sir…” I started while still licking his soles “…kick my face one more time, I beg you!”

“Hahaha! Sure thing, fag!” and he did.

“Thank you sir…” was all I had time to say before:

“Do you want another one?” I swallowed hard before shaking my head yes. “Yes sir, plea…” but he slapped me on the side of the mouth with his sole, shutting me up.

“Here!” then “One more?” he asked on the verge of bursting out laughing. I kept nodding against my better judgment.

“Yes please…” I whined but he cracked up, totally noticing my struggle.

“Hahahaha!! Fuck! That’s just fucking hilarious! hahaha!” and let his foot drop in front of my face, without hitting me. “Just keep licking my fucking feet, you stupid fag! Hahahaha!” I turned to him and said with adoring eyes,

“Thank you master, that felt so good…” and I went back to licking, grateful, so damn grateful. He enjoy his snickering for a little while, then exhaled.

“Aaaaahhhh god! You know, bitch, I should have figured out you were a fag years ago! Can’t believe how much fun I’ve missed!” he said with a hint of amused regret. I smiled apologetically.

“Yeah, I’m sorry…” I replied “I should’ve told you sooner…” but then realized that had been a mistake. He was still entertained but he was frowning now.

“What do you mean? You said you just found out.” he said with an enquiring tone and I knew I was pretty much in trouble.

“Well I…” I started, trying to think of a way to get away with that but he smirked at me.

“You lied to me?” he pressed with a shocked expression that was totally fake. Then before I could answer “Bad fag!” he kicked me again, this time directly on my mouth and nose. This time it hurt.

“I’m sorry…” I started apologizing and held his foot in my hand, kissing it adoringly “I’m so sorry, I didn’t really lie to you…” I tried to explain “…I sort of… suspected it but…” he looked at me with his smirk, totally digging the sight of me groveling “…I guess I was lying to myself… I thought it’d simply go away if I ignored it…” I summed up a million fears and emotions I had had to fight in the previous couple of years. A million tears shed, countless sleepless nights, trying to figure out what was wrong with me, why things in my head weren’t as they were supposed to be, why I was different. A teenage hell I had been trapped into and had just begun to accept. He just laughed at that, rather cruelly.

“Yeah, right! Like that could happen! Are all faggots as stupid as you or are you especially retarded? Hahahaha!” he was walking all over me, over my feelings once again and that hurt like hell. But at the same time, boy was it hot! How could I feel those two emotions at the same time it was beyond me but that was exactly what was happening in my screwed up head.

“I… hum… I don’t know, sir…” I answered “I don’t really have any faggot friends…” I answered earnestly. He smirked at me and mused for a couple of seconds.

“Well, guess that means you don’t have ANY friends, then, ” he said with a final tone and a look that spoke volumes. He was expecting an answer, I could tell and I hesitated for a second then figured out where he was going with this.

“Yes sir…” I said trying to keep licking his now clean, wet soles. “You’re right sir, straight boys aren’t my friends… they’re my superiors.” He put on the smuggest face he had in his repertoire.

“Damn right, they are!” he said half laughing “Every single one of them, and don’t you ever forget that, bitch!” he finished with a mysterious cocky smirk.

I simply answered, “No sir, I won’t.” not knowing exactly what was going on. Why had he brought that up? But I didn’t have time to think about that.

“Now then, back to you lying to your Master…” he shook his head disapprovingly with that mock expression that told me he was having the time of his life.

“I’m… I’m really sorry sir…” I said “I know I should have told you…”

“Yeah, you should have.” he said with his calm, entertained tone. I went on trying to justify myself.

“But… but to be fair, when I… hum… lied to you, you weren’t my master yet…” I tried “…we were just friends…” I said then repeated  “I mean, we were friends, right?” he snickered.

“Not even you believe that, fag…” he said, “cause you know that ain’t true.” He continued then explained, “Maybe I wasn’t your Master yet but let’s face it, you’ve always done whatever the hell I wanted, always following me around like an obedient little puppy.” This time he summed up seven years of what I had always thought was the most important friendship of my entire life, completely crushing my soul. “No, you were never really a friend to me.” he said loftily. “Let’s just say you were a convenient someone to have handy. A wimp I could boss around when my real buddies couldn’t come out to play.” He smirked even wider, then said, “I simply didn’t know how much more convenient you could be, hehehe!!!” he finished snickering.

Now I know what you’re thinking but to be perfectly frank, from a certain point of view, every word he had said was kinda true. Ok, he had been unnecessarily harsh but I’ve never known him to be anything but brutally honest. And as much as I wanted to deny it, I had always feared that his skater buds meant way more to him than me. And I had been right. Totally and completely right. I felt like crying.

I looked into his eyes. His hands were still crossed behind his head and his cocky smirk was as hot as ever. He knew he had hurt me with those words and was waiting to see my reaction.

“Got summin’ to say?” he asked arrogantly. My mind raced, sifting through all the memories we shared and trying to recall the true feelings I’d had towards this self-absorbed, overconfident boy over the years, before my naive confession. And suddenly it hit me. I swallowed.

“Well.. if we’re being totally honest…” I said to him “…I guess at some level I’ve always known you… you were… like… better than me…” I confessed hesitantly “…that’s why it kinda felt ok to… you know… always do everything you wanted… even if I didn’t really feel like it…” he kept looking at me smirking “…yeah…” I said more confidently “…in a way I’ve always considered you my… superior…” There, I said it. He simply smiled smugly for a couple of seconds, totally enjoying the moment, before saying.

“Well, then you’re not as stupid as you look, bitch! Hehehe!!” I laughed too, a little. No one said anything for a few seconds. I kept licking his feet while he carelessly wiggled his spit-covered toes.

Then I said, “Master?”


“I’m so sorry for not telling you…” He smirked again.


“Hehehe!! That’s all right, bitch, I’ll kick your balls later as a punishment, how’s that sound?” he asked me and took pleasure in watching me squirm. He was waiting for an answer he knew I was gonna give him, what else could I have answered? But I was scared to death, I really didn’t want him to kick my balls. But he was right, I deserved it. So I took a breath.

“Fair, I guess…” I sighed miserably. He raised an eyebrow.

“You guess?” he said with an amused overtone that was warning me to rethink my answer.

“It’s totally fair, sir.” I corrected my tone, now totally convinced, there was even a little fake eagerness that he didn’t fail to notice. He always noticed everything, I couldn’t really hide any of my emotions. He snickered, now satisfied with my tone.

“Good, now come on!” He got up. “Get your queer ass over here, toilet boy, I gotta take a piss,” he said, now standing in the middle of the room, taking off his boxers and dropping them on the floor between his feet. His cock was out again. His perfectly shaped limp cock was resting on his mighty balls. He was gonna make me drink his piss again which meant that foul taste was gonna make me sick again. I had only ever tasted it the night before and it’s not like I wanted to taste it again but that didn’t matter in the least, now did it? I wasn’t the one who was supposed to take pleasure in all of this. But this is even beside the point, even if I wanted to refuse I simply couldn’t.

Let me elaborate on that. You know what happens to moths when they see a light? Well, my light was his cock. My heart beating faster and faster and a sense of dread in my stomach I crawled over to him without making him wait for a second. I got closer and opened my mouth. He stuck his soft, super tasty dick inside it and pressed my face to his ginger pubes so hard, his teenage stale, sweaty musk was the only thing I could smell. He was looking down at me.

“You know, this is a huge step for you, slave.” he said, entertained. “For the first time I’m gonna piss directly down your faggot throat and only hours after your initiation! Do you know how lucky you are? Hahaha!” A few locks were covering one of his eyes as he was laughing. I tried to smile, but only with my eyes, since my mouth was glued to his pubes. I nodded slowly.

“Good! Hehehe!” he patted my head a little too harshly to be an affectionate gesture. “Oh, by the way…” he added casually “You spill one drop you’ll never see me again, got it?” He couldn’t have gotten my attention better even if he had whacked me in the head with a frigging baseball bat! My eyes went wide open as I started nodding again, this time like crazy. He laughed.

“Hope you’re thirsty, bitch! Here it comes! Hehe!” he said then he started to piss. The first spurt hit my soft palate and my mouth immediately filled with his hot, sour liquid. My heart was frigging pounding and I froze. I was breathing heavily as my cheeks were expanding. I thought, “This is it, I’m gonna spit it all out!” and started to panic but just when his piss was about to start coming out of my nose, the stream stopped. My mouth was full to bursting as I looked up at him in panic.

He was looking down at me and simply said “Swallow it” with his calm but commanding tone and all of a sudden I knew I had to do it. I gulped down the first half of it, I could hear the sound of my swallowing filling the room. Then, with an enormous effort, the second half went down. My heart was still pounding, my breathing was faster than ever and my eyes were watering up but I had managed to swallow his piss. He smiled at me.

“Good toilet! Hehehe!” and he started pissing again. It was truly disgusting, I swear, and a growing sense of dread was nagging me so damn much. How in the world was I gonna manage to swallow the content of his whole bladder? My mouth was rapidly filling up again, but something clicked. This time I didn’t wait for it to start coming out of my nose. Without him telling me I swallowed. My heart kept beating faster and faster as he smiled at me.

“Yeah… that’s right, gulp it all down, hehehe!!” he laughed. “Look at me the whole time, you fucking urinal!” Fuck he made me so horny, I can’t believe how hard I was, again, especially because I was sick to my stomach. There had to be something wrong with me, I mean… right?

I swallowed a third time and then a fourth and as my stomach was filling up my eyes were watering more and more but I had to keep it together. I had no idea if Kieran was serious about not letting me see him again. Come to think of it he probably wasn’t but how could I risk it? I swallowed a fifth time, blinking hard and trying with all my might not to vomit. He noticed my struggle and smiled.

“You’re such a lucky faggot…” he told me “…being able to drink my morning piss directly from my dick…” he snickered “Bet it’s reeeeal tasty, isn’t it?” he waited for me to nod which I did, slightly. He snickered again then continued to tease me:

“You know how many fags would kill to have this honor, bitch? Hehehe!!” He was being so full of himself, my rational self couldn’t believe he was actually saying those words like he meant them. I was drinking his piss, for fuck’s sake, I doubt there was another human being in a fifty-mile radius that was willing to do the same for him, yet he managed to make me feel guilty and jealous at the same time. You gotta admit that ain’t no easy thing to pull off.

I nodded again, ever so slightly before swallowing a sixth mouthful. The sound of my gulping seemed so loud. He was amused and snickered again. “Good, so be grateful for every fucking drop I let you drink, you piss tank. Hehehehe!” he laughed, and I remember my own cock being so hard it hurt. I felt a tear running down my cheek for the huge effort I was making.

“Hehehe! That’s so nice! Look at you… chugging my piss like there’s no fucking tomorrow, hehe!” he snickered “I really must have flipped a switch last night with that nice little talk we had, huh? You went from almost throwing up to loving it overnight, hehehe!” He went on, “That means of course you were born a urinal, you know? It’s in your fucking blood. How else would you explain it?” My throat burned and every fiber in my body was telling me to stop. I didn’t listen cause I was too busy listening to his words.

“Maybe your dad was one too.” He had such a cocky expression on his face and I kept looking at him adoringly, welcoming all his verbal abuse. “I bet in college he was the dorm urinal, hehehe!” he laughed “I bet he didn’t even have a room, his roommate must have decided he didn’t need one and made him sleep on the toilet floor…” Hurting my family was a new low and I’m pretty sure he realized that was a goldmine “Bet they put a dog collar on him and chained him to the urinals so every guy on the floor could have fun pissing down his fucking throat 24/7! Hehehe!!!” He was on a fucking roll, smirking and snickering in the most defiling way “Can you imagine how much piss he must have swallowed?” he asked “Tons! All those straight guys…” he continued. “Bet you’re jealous of him, aren’t you? Hehehe!” I couldn’t really answer him but my eyes were on him and I guess he could tell that was hurting my feelings so bad. But at the same time he knew his verbal abuse was turning me on so damn much.

“Well, you don’t have to worry! From now on I’ll make sure my sissy piss tank is never, EVER thirsty, hehehe!”

Gathering up all my will I swallowed a seventh time. “Too bad you don’t have a brother, though.” he kept teasing. “I’m sure he would have turned out exactly like you and it would have been nice to have two slaves serving me.” He kept smirking so widely, I had no idea how he could come up with such monstrosities.  “Oh well, I guess you’re one lucky faggot, you get to enjoy me all by yourself, hehehe!”

Now I know it sounds weird and all but all his talking helped me out quite a lot. I was so concentrated on listening to his verbal abuse that when I swallowed my eighth mouthful I didn’t even flinch and that was the last big one. He kept pissing after that but the stream was dying down. I had done it. I had done the impossible and I was so damn proud of myself. He was looking down at me with his cocky smirk and I waited for him to finish, then swallowed the last of his piss. He removed his hand from my head and before he could speak I suckled on his dick for a couple of seconds, then opened my mouth and with the most submissive, girlish, adoring tone I said.

“Oh Master… thank you for letting me drink your morning piss, sir…” he smirked and I continued “I know how lucky I am to be your faggot slave, sir… all I want is to make your life easy, it feels so good to be used by you, sir…” I continued “…your happiness is the only thing that matters to me, sir… so please keep using me, sir, if it makes you feel better…” I begged, I wanted to show him how much I was into that new role he had given me and I purposely used the tone he really liked to make fun of. He snickered.

“Not bad bitch! Hehe!” he said slapping my face “I want you to say shit like that to me all the time, got it?” I nodded, happy.

“Yes sir, I will sir!”

“Good! And since I’m such a generous master, I’m gonna empty my balls in your queer face cunt.” he said and I smiled up to him.

“Thank ymmhhh…” he didn’t let me finish. He loved cutting me off like that it was his way of showing me how little my words mattered to him. He put both his hands on my head, closed his eyes and started humping my face like a animal. The constant bumping was hurting my nose a little but I had bigger problems. Within like thirty seconds his cock was as hard as ever and he was gagging me. Now, I was used to that. He had been doing that for a few weeks now but my stomach was now full of his piss and I knew that throwing up on him was NOT an option. But again, that was totally, one hundred percent MY problem, not his. He kept fucking my face like I was no more than a doll. My hands were on his thighs but I wasn’t trying to slow him down or make him stop, if anything I was inviting him to choke me more. I really wanted him to go all out, if that’s what made him happy. He was moaning and snickering at the same time. My eyes were all wet now and once again I was looking at a blurry version of him biting his lower lips and basically jacking him off in my mouth while he was once again thinking about some chick.

He came grunting, didn’t even bother to tell me he was ‘about to feed me’ or some of his other nice phrases. He shot his huge load like a cannon and I felt it slowly coating my throat, sticky and tasty as ever. He let go of my head and I caught my breath while tonguing his piss slit to clean him perfectly. He took a deep breath and looked down, smirking.

“You licked my dirty feet, drank my piss and even swallowed my load, I’m totally spoiling you, bitch, hehehe!” he said and I looked up, smiling. My face must have been a mess ‘cause he looked pretty amused.

I got his cock out of my mouth just the time I needed to say, “Yes master… thank you for that…” and back on his cock I was but he pushed me away with his hand.

“Enough.” he said, then “I think it’s time for your punishment, bitch.” He was smiling quite contentedly but he soon began to smirk when my face drained of all color.

“N… now?” I stuttered.

“Yep, feel like it.” he said shrugging so casually it was obvious he was doing it on purpose. I didn’t answer, my breathing got faster, though.

“Down on all fours, facing the door.” he ordered, pointing at the door to his room that was exactly in front of him. I swallowed hard and did as I was told. I turned around and faced the door.

“Face down, bitch.” I lowered my face till it touched the ground. “Spread your legs.” he said bumping his foot on one of my thighs. I was trembling. I knew what was coming was gonna be so tremendously bad my body was telling me not to rebel against it. But how does the saying go? Mind over matter, right?

So my hind legs spread apart for him leaving my junk completely at his mercy.

“Do you understand why I have to do this bitch?” My heart was pounding and my legs were so tensed they were shaking a little.

“Cause I lied to you, sir…” I whimpered “…but I swear I’ll never do it again!” I added pleadingly.

“Well, I hope so, fag…” he said, amused, “but I don’t know if I can’t trust you.”

I looked back at him. “Of course you can Master!” I said.

“Face down, bitch.” he told me in his calm, imperious tone. I went down again.

“I’m sorry sir, but you can trust me, I swear!” I was whimpering like a little bitch and he was obviously enjoying it.

“Well I guess you’re pretty talented as a slave…” he praised me “…but you disappointed me twice in less that 24 hours…” That felt worse that the kick I was about to get.

“But…” I tried to reply but he went on

“And last night after I punished you, you swore to me you weren’t gonna screw up again… but you did.” he said mercilessly.

“Yeah… I know…” I was breathing so heavily “But this time is different! I swear, Master. I’m never gonna let you down again!” There were a few seconds of silence that seemed like an eternity.

“So you’re saying that I don’t need to worry about you and that you learned your lesson and all that shit?” he asked.

“Yes! Yes!” I immediately answered. Another pause and I swear I could hear my own heart pounding.

“All right, fag…” he said then “If you promise to NEVER disappoint me again I won’t punish you this time…” I couldn’t believe my ears.

“Oh my god, thank you sir, really?” I said half crying, half laughing. I heard him snort.

“Sure, bitch,” and then it happened. I felt a pain so strong I couldn’t even breath. I yelped loudly and collapsed on the floor, clutching the balls he had just kicked so carelessly and cruelly. I was in so much pain I had no coherent thought. I was crying, that I remember, whimpering and sobbing. And I heard him crack up with laughter.

“Hahaha! That was fucking hilarious! hahaha!” he said “Oh my god, really?” he mocked my voice and my hopeful, foolish tone. “You actually believed me, didn’t you, queer boy? Hahaha!” My eyes were shut but I remember I could tell he wasn’t behind me anymore. His feet were inches from my face

“Gawd! You’re so fucking stupid! Hahaha!” he laughed again. I didn’t answer, I couldn’t, the pain was still so bad.

“Look at me!” he ordered. I knew I should have done it but I honestly couldn’t bring myself to do it. I kept sobbing uncontrollably. “I said look at me, slave,” he repeated in a softer but much more commanding tone that told me that I was skating on very, very thin ice. I opened my eyes and looked up to him. He smirked back.

“What do you say to your master after he punishes you?” he asked me. I sobbed loudly a couple of times then managed to whimper.

“I’m so sorry, master…” He kept smirking. He was completely naked, towering over me and looking down at my pathetic sobs.

“Yeah, I bet you are…” he commented. Then, “Now thank me for kicking your balls, faggot.” I sobbed some more, then obliged.

“Thank you, sir…” My backbone hurt, my legs, my everything, I couldn’t even understand where it hurt the most and yet I could totally see the huge, immense difference between the two of us, right in that moment, more than ever. He truly was a god to me and I was nothing.

“You’re welcome, homo. Hehe!” he smirked, satisfied then said cheerfully, “Now I forgive you. Are you happy?” The pain was starting to subside a little.

“Y… yes sir…”

“Good!” he said half laughing. “Here’s a little treat for you, slave,” he said and started hocking up a huge loogie which he then spat between his feet, two inches from my face. I was still breathing heavily but I slowly stuck out my tongue and licked it. At first tentatively, then with more energy. It was pretty disgusting.

“Thank you master…” I said still whimpering a little. He smirked.

“Fucking loser.” he commented then put his foot on the back of my head and pushed my face on the floor. “Here! Fucking lick it off, you dumb homo!” he said amused in his morning teenage baritone.

“Yes, sir!” I sucked up his yellowish, gooey snot and with a bit of effort I swallowed it then I started lapping up the rest of his spit. It was gross, I won’t lie to you, but it wasn’t as bad as his piss. Even after the pain and the suffering I still felt pretty proud of myself for pulling that one off and at that point I felt like I could swallow pretty much anything that came from him.

He looked at me for a few seconds, then asked with an amused tone, “It’s yummy, huh?”

“Yes sir! Thank you so much sir, it’s… it’s delicious!” My voice was still shaky and an octave higher than normal. He snickered.

“Oink for me, fagpig! C’m on! Oink!” I started oinking while sobbing and licking and hurting and it was hilarious for him.

“Hahahaha! Oh fuck, I could do this all day, you know?” he said l and listened to my pig sounds while laughing his balls off, snickering and giggling uncontrollably and still pressing my face down with his foot.

Then after a few seconds he said, “I did a hell of a job, training you!” and I stopped oinking, to listen. “Less than a month ago you told me you were ‘gay’…” he stressed the word as to point out that was way too nice a word to describe shitty faggots “…and asking me if I was ok with that…” he snorted “… and now you’re licking my spit off the floor and thanking me for it…” he said with a much more pleased intonation “…that’s huge progress, bitch! Hehehe!!” he said rolling my head under his foot till I was on my back again and his foot was on my face. I started licking it the instant his sole touched my lips “I think I might have a knack for turning dumb bitches like you into slaves, hehehe!”

“Yes, sir! You’re awesome sir! I’m so lucky to be your slave sir!” it came out weird cause my tongue was out, but I really wanted him to know how I felt.

“You betcha!” he sneered and let me lick him for a few more seconds while he stretched, yawned widely and scratched one of his pits. Then he looked down at me. “I’m gonna go wash my face, bring me my breakfast.” and with that he walked over to the bathroom.

“Yes sir!” was all I could manage.

Now getting up was a bitch. My balls were still so sore and and I didn’t even try to stand up. It wasn’t allowed when I was in his room, anyways. It took me a while to get downstairs, walking straight was painful at every step, but I managed to get to the kitchen and prepared him breakfast. I got his favorite cereals, milk, orange juice and put everything on one of those bed trays. When I got back to his room I found him sprawled on his bed, still naked, with his back against three fluffy cushions and his hands crossed behind his head, lazily watching TV. It was a rerun of one of the shows he liked, something he had already seen more than once, for sure.

“About fucking time bitch! Thought I was gonna have to come down and do it myself!” he said keeping his eyes on the screen. He wasn’t really annoyed, it was just an excuse to belittle and bully me.

“I’m sorry Master I couldn’t find…”

But he cut me off while yawning with a lofty “Shut the fuck up, queer!” I did and I went to him on my knees, set the tray down on the bed and he started eating without looking at me. I sat on my hind legs and waited patiently at his side watching him eat. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then he turned to me, raised an eyebrow and with an annoyed smirk said, “Stop staring at me, bitch, it’s creepy!”

“I’m sorry sir I…” but he cut me off again with that cute little smirk that told me he had just had an idea.

“Your face should be on the floor when you’re not serving me.”

“Uhm…” I murmured very intelligently. He shook his head.

“Sorry, let me say it in Queer,” he sneered, then repeated slowly and clearly, like he was talking to a retard. “Put your hands behind your back…” I did that, crossing them right against my ass. He carried on with that calm, cocky, amused voice of his “…now lower your dumb cocksucker face to the fucking floor.” I did, till my nose and lips touched it.

“That’s better!” he said approvingly and I felt one of his feet resting on my back.  “That’s where faggot slaves belong, hehehe!” he snickered, then went back to watching TV and eating. I could hear the spoon hitting the bowl and the crunching noise of the cereals in his mouth. I wasn’t even allowed to watch him and I knew it was fair. Well, my dick did. Can you believe that even after the kick I was still pretty hard? I mean my balls were still hurting and I was hard! Do you realize how fucked up that is?

After maybe five minutes or so he said, “I’m done” and I straightened up just in time to see him cross his arms behind his back again and lay on the cushions.

“Yes sir.” I said and took the tray. I could never get enough of his teenage body, my God, it was so fucking sexy! So lean and athletic and hairless. His cock was resting on his balls, limp and satisfied, for now. That was fucking priceless. I stole a juicy look before taking the tray back to the kitchen. I quickly got back upstairs and got down in the same position as before, something I was gonna have to get used to, apparently.

The episode went on for a while then he switched off the TV and got up. I quickly saw his feet in front of me but then he walked away. I heard him bustle around the room, whistling tunelessly but quite happily. I realized he was getting dressed. He didn’t speak to me but I knew he was watching my behavior. I didn’t make a sound. When he was done I heard him walking over to me and his worn out sneakers were inches from my eyes.

“That position looks pretty uncomfortable, bitch,” he commented.

“It… It is, sir…” He sneered.

“Awesome, hehehe!” I didn’t respond, there was no need. “So I’m going to the park to see my friends.” His tone was light and careless.

“Have fun sir. I’ll stay here and take care of all your chores, sir,” I replied.

“Good bitch!” he snickered. “Why don’t you say goodbye with a kiss?” I looked up so fast I thought my neck was gonna snap. He was clearly expecting my reaction and he snorted so cockily my dick got even harder.

“Yeah, you wish.” he commented “I meant my shoes you stupid homo!” he said laughing and I laughed too a little stupidly.

“Yes Master, sorry!” I kissed both his sneakers.

“Thank you sir!” He snickered again.

“Glad you like them, bitch!” he said. “You’re licking them clean as soon as I get back today! Hehehe!” he snickered and I looked up again for a second.

“Yes sir…” I said after a moment’s hesitation. He shook his head.

“I’ll text you if I need you but make sure my room is spotless when I come back.” I was still in the same position.

“Yes sir! Thank you for allowing me to do all your chores for you, sir!”

I heard him snicker. “Yeah, yeah! My pleasure, faggot!” Fuck, I loved his arrogance, so much! He walked out of his room and down the stairs and I got up, went to the window and watched my cute Master skate away and I sighed, thinking how lucky I was.

To be continued …

Click here to see all published chapters.


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Naughty Bard

Naughty Bard is obviously a pseudonym. Somehow I feel way freer writing the stuff I write about and knowing that my identity is safe. What I can tell you about myself is that I am Italian born, brought up in the States and currently live in Italy. I have a degree in foreign languages and literatures and a master in linguistics. I have always loved reading, since I was a little kid and I later discovered that well written sex stories are incredibly arousing to me. So I started writing my own, filling them with all the kinks I love. What I write about is mostly fantasy, even though sometimes I use fragments of my own experiences.

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