Date: Fri, 1 May 2015 19:22:42 +0100
From: scotland calling <braghaidalbainn@gmail.com>
Subject: A Man and his fag: A Pig Part 2

A Man and his fag: A Pig Part 2

by fatsow


*M/m, Humil.*


*Disclaimer: The story is fictionalised, contains descriptions of sex and
is here for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY. If you are not an adult, stop
reading. If reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, read no further.
If you read further, you accept that you wilfully gained access to this
material, that you are an adult aged 21 years old or older and that this
story does not offend the standards or violate any law in your area.*



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*** The next day the fag woke early. It knew it had better not disappoint,
but then it didn't want to disappointed its Master. It existed to serve and
to please its Master. It had breakfast and made its way over to its
Master's apartment. It let itself in with the keys its Master had given it
and set to work.

It cleaned the pots and pans, it cleaned the crockery and cutlery, and it
cleaned the work surfaces. It swept the floors in every room, it mopped the
floors in every room. As it started work on cleaning the bathroom, it hard
keys rattle in the front door. It looked out and saw its Master coming in.
"Haven't got time to stop now, faggot. Get on with your work." he snapped.
The fag obeyed and returned to the bathroom but after a short while it
heard its Master's voice ordering, "Come here, faggot!"

It hurried out of the bathroom to the lounge where its Master stood
stroking his cock. "Kneel!" he said. The fag knelt. "Open!" he ordered. So
the fag opened its mouth. Then the Master rammed his cock into the fag's
throat cunt. Fully in. Balls deep. And left it there as the sides of the
fag's throat stroked it. "Yessssssss!" hissed the Master as he enjoyed the
sensation, then withdrew his dick, adjusted his pants and zipped up.

"How much have you done?" he asked the fag. The fag explained. "Good" said
the Master. "After you've finished cleaning, there are shirts and pants in
the wardrobe. Iron them." Then the Master strode out. The faggot accepted
its status. Domestic slave, existing to serve. Created to serve the Alpha
who had discovered it, trained it and now owned it's mind and body.

So the fag continued to work. It finished cleaning the bathroom then got
out the iron and ironing board. Its heart beat a little faster when it
realised it was being allowed to handle its Master's clothes. The shirts
that covered his beautiful slim body. The trousers that surrounded his
Alpha cock and balls and pert firm ass.

Eventually it was mid-afternoon and time for the Master to return. So
dutifully the fag stripped naked and knelt in the middle of the lounge and
waited. A little later the Master returned. Looking at the naked kneeling
fag, he said "Get dressed faggot, we're going out to eat." As the Master
led the fag to the restaurant it looked for all the world like a young man
showing his uncle around the town. Except the young man was the dominant
man, real man, the only man of the two. He was an Alpha, a Master. He was
the Owner of the older man. The older man was a docile subservient faggot,
groomed to obey and to serve and that dutifully trotted along beside its
Lord. "Tell me" asked the Master as they walked along "is there anything in
particular you'd like to eat - other than my cock, that is?" The fag
blushed and looked round to see if anyone had heard. But it wouldn't have
mattered if they had. "Don't worry about getting enough to drink though,
there'll be plenty later." added the Master, smiling.

At the restaurant the Master ordered. Courses of the Master's choosing came
and went. At the end of the meal the waiter brought the bill to the Master.
After all he had done all the talking, all the ordering. The fag had sat
still and silent and only spoke in reply to a question from its Owner. The
Master glanced down the bill, then tossed it across the table to the
faggot. "Pay it" he said. So the worm did.

On the way back to the Master's apartment, the Master reminded the fag that
he was going out for the evening but would let it know when it was to turn
up the next day. As they entered the apartment they walked into the lounge.
As they entered the lounge the faggot knelt, head bowed. The Master
unzipped his flies. The fag opened its sewer face and took the head of the
cock into it. Then the Master began to piss. Less strong than the day
before but just as much. On and on he pissed and the fag swallowed and
swallowed, only raising its hand a few times. Practice was making perfect.
The flow was almost seamless. It was becoming natural for the faggot to act
as a urinal and swallow piss. Almost second nature.

Once the Master had emptied his bladder into his slave's toilet mouth he
wandered into his bedroom, calling "Come!" So the faggot scrambled after
him. The Master took off his shirt and flopped down on his bed. "Sit!" he
said, and the faggot sat on the floor. "No. On the chair in the corner."
explained its Owner.

Soon the fag was rewarded for its loyalty and docility in doing nothing
except waiting to serve. The Master pointed to his feet and nodded. The
faggot knelt on the bed and started to worship. Its Master was its god and
it worshipped him as its god. First the feet. With socks on as its Master
directed. Then when commanded, with socks off, licking the toes, the gaps
in between, the soles, the heels. Licking in silent worship of its god as
its Lord and Owner started to gently stroke his cock.

Soon the Master settled down and slipped his pants below his knees.
"Balls!" was all he had to say for the slave to crawl up the bed to suckle
first one, then the other, then both as the Master stroked harder. "Up!" he
commanded and the fag raised its face. The Master angled his cock towards
the faggots face and the faggot opened its face cunt to receive it. As it
slid in, its Master took hold of its ears and slowly, almost absent
mindedly, pumped his cock in and out of the throat pussy. After a while he
slowed down, his cock became even harder, then it burst into life and
pumped burst after burst of jizz straight into the fag's belly. When the
Master had relaxed he said "Clean it!" and the worm gently started to lick.
Inside the foreskin and out. Around the head and the piss slit. Along the
shaft.

As his cock began to stir again, the Master raised his knees. "Clean my
ass!" he ordered. The pig slid down lower and began to lick its Master's
beautiful ass. Broad sweeping strokes. Light fluttery strokes. Cleaning.
Polishing. Then the Master said "Eat me out!" and rolled over. The pig
slave had the joy of seeing his two firm butt cheeks roll into view. It
used its hands to carefully part the cheeks, then dove down to lick its
Master's ass hole. To suck on its Master's ass hole. To taste its Master's
ass hole. To try to enter its Master's ass hole with its tongue.

Eventually the Master rolled back over and started to stroke his cock
vigorously. The faggot slave, obeying its orders continued to use its
tongue on its Master's ass hole. Soon the Master's body tightened, then
relaxed. The faggot looked up. "Don't just look at it scum, lick it up!"
commanded its Owner. The faggot dived forward to lick the line that ran
from the Master's navel to his shoulder. As it cleaned higher up its
Master's body it was surprised to hear what sounded like its Owner
growling. But it was. Deep resonant growls of an Alpha Lord taking his
rightful place and using what was rightfully his for his own personal
satisfaction. It was a wonderful natural dominant sound. It was awesome.

After a while the Master stood up. "Come!" he said as he strode off. The
worm scuttled after him. As it followed him to the bathroom the Master
explained. "I'm going to have a shower. You will undress me, then sit and
wait. Then you will dry me and dress me." Inside the bathroom the fag knelt
and helped the Master take off his pants and underpants. Then the Master
stepped into the shower. He soaped himself up and cleaned himself making
sure that his slave got to see his whole body. But for now, agonisingly,
the faggot was not allowed to touch.
When he had rinsed himself, he pointed to the red towel. The faggot took it
off the hook. Its Lord and Owner stepped out of the shower and the faggot
bitch knelt to dry him. His feet, his legs, his manhood, his ass, his
chest, his back. Then it helped its god into his underpants. The underpants
and their contents just opposite its head, just opposite its lips. So
close, but now forbidden until further notice. Then it helped him into his
pants.

Its Owner strode off back to the bedroom and put a shirt on, then sat at
the end of the bed and indicated to the faggot where the clean socks were
kept. The faggot knelt and put the Master's socks on the Master's feet,
then the Master's trainers. As he stood up to adjust himself in the mirror
he leaned over his property and spat on its face. "Leave that." he ordered.
"Come!" The spit drooled down off the fag's forehead, round its eye and
cheek as it followed its Owner to the door. "Keys." he said crisply. The
faggot handed over the set of keys he had received the day before. Then
they left.

The fag followed its Master to the bus stop. As they arrived at it he said
"It's about ten minutes till my bus comes. You will stand there and wait
until it does. Check your emails tomorrow morning. I will let you know when
you are to come." So the faggot waited until the bus came, as the spit
which marked it as both owned and subhuman slowly dried on its cheek.