Date: Fri, 3 Dec 2010 09:45:53 -0800 (PST)
From: Vincent Vincent <not_your_typical_master@yahoo.com>
Subject: Fagboy & Fagdad - Part 17

First, the disclaimers.  THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, Copyright 2010.  The
narrative that follows did not happen to me or to anyone else I know.  The
characters in the story, like myself, are all of legal age.  Don't contact
Me to meet these slaves.  DO contact Me if you want to become one of these
slaves.  Also contact me with any praise, criticism, or suggestions.  All
feedback is good.

Fagboy & Fagdad - Part 17

Ryan waited in Alexi's bedroom at the foot of His bed, head bowed in
respect.  The fagboy tried to put a label on what he felt for his Master.
It wasn't love, at least not in any traditional respect.  But as every
event of this weekend unfolded, there was some intangible, unknowable bond
developing.  The mere glimpse of Master, or even Sir Mitchell or Sir
Duncan, made his whole body tingle and shiver, his slavedick pulse in its
damnable cage of agony.  The fagboy's heart raced nearly every moment since
"slave day."  He found fulfillment being a whore for these three Men to use
in any way They desired.  He found strength and purpose where normal folks
would find horror and disgust.  He was running toward what normal folks
would be running from.  And it gave him a sense of joyful peace.  Euphoria.

Master strode back into His room.  "Wow, what planet is this fagboy on?
Certainly nowhere near here?"

"Master?  Did I displease you?  Oh, shit, Master ..."

Master chuckled, "No, no.  The faggot has nothing to worry about.  You were
just a million miles away.  What were you thinking about?"

Ryan swallowed hard.  "Master, are You sure You want to know?"

Master's face changed to one of sternness.  "Fuck yes.  There are no more
secrets in these walls.  There's been enough of that for the past 19
years."

"Yes, Master.  OK.... I was trying to decide what it was I was feeling for
you."  Fagboy looked up at Alexi with concern.

"And?  What is it?"

"Master, I really don't know how to describe it.  It's good, whatever it
is."

"OK. Here's an assignment.  Before crawling off to bed tonight, I want the
fagboy to figure it out and tell me.  In the meantime, let me say what's
been going on in my mind.  Remember back when that I was talking to
Mitchell and Duncan about that lock around your fagdick?  About how it was
a great tool for a Master to modify his slave's desires, simply by allowing
the fagdick freedom to get erect when doing a particular task?  We've been
talking it over, trying to decide what chore should be the one that you
desire more than anything else.  We decided upon the chore that we like you
best doing: sucking our cocks.  From now on, whenever the fagboy's mouth is
servicing cock, your fagdick will be uncaged.  Soon you'll be constantly
begging us to be sucking cock -- if not one of ours, then someone else's --
just so your stupid slavedick can be free to drool.

"But the fagboy will not be allowed to touch it or rub it against anything.
This is simply permission for it to get erect.  And as for the three of us,
we don't want to feel your stupid fag-on against our flesh.  Make sure that
doesn't happen, or else you and the fagdad will suffer."

"Yes, Master.  But ... will I be allowed to cum?"

"If you cum without humping anything, sure.  But that's true all the time,
even when locked up.  Any time the fagboy can shoot, go right ahead.  Not
that I think it will be easy, or even possible, locked up in the cage.  On
the other hand, your fagdad almost shot the other night."  Alexi shrugged.
"We'll find out.  For now, though, you should concentrate on tonight's
activity.

"I'm going to strip down and go to bed.  Toss my clothes into the hamper,
your cell.  Then get back on My bed.  I'll unlock the fagdick and you start
worshiping My prick.  As long as your faglips are wrapped around My dick,
all is well. But as soon as those fagboy lips are off my cock, for any
reason, for even a fraction of a second, we're done for the night and your
queercock gets locked back up.  Any questions?"

"No, Master."  The fagboy watched his Master strip and slide into bed.  He
gathered up Master's dirty clothes and dragged them into the closet,
tossing them into the cell.  He then climbed back on the bed and kissed the
head of his Master's cock while his dick was freed from its prison of
torment.  The fagboy slid his legs under him and pulled himself between his
Master's legs and softly swallowed His prick.

The fagboy's mouth instinctively made love to Master's cock, caressing it,
pulling precum from it, sliding it down the fagboy's throat.  At one point,
Master pulled the fagboy's head, forcing His cock even deeper down his
throat.  The fagboy gagged and started to pull back.

"Keep those lips wrapped around My meat, cuntface."  The fagboy had to
quickly learn to reset his throat from the gag without expelling Master's
cock.  He was able to do this by wrapping his lips around Master's
dickhead, letting the spit pool in his mouth a moment, and then swallowing
everything, spit and dick, back down his throat.  He felt Master's prick
throb as He chuckled.  "My fagboy's got great instincts.  Keep it up."

The fagboy's prick, free to get fully hard, did exactly that.  Relishing
the sensation of sucking cock, loving the pulse of his own erection, Ryan
didn't care that he wasn't allowed to stroke it.  After the many weeks of
constant aching frustration and the ruined orgasm of the other night, just
being fully hard was pleasure enough.

The fagboy focused on the other night, the blowjob he unknowingly shared
with his father, now the house fagdad.  The orgasm would have been
mind-blowing, but the shock of seeing his dad sucking his cock, dressed
like some cheap whore, totally destroyed the pleasure.  The fagboy had
never experienced a ruined orgasm and prayed he'd never have to again.
This experience was the exact opposite of that.  It was a rewarding
erection without any hope of orgasm.  But it still held fulfillment, just
of a different kind.  The fagdick throbbed, hour after hour, in celebration
of its own erection.  Yes, the fagboy could suck cock like this for days at
a time and love every fucking minute of it.

Master had apparently slipped into a light slumber and was shifting onto
His side.  The fagboy matched His every move to maintain his mouth's lock
on Master's prick.  Master started softly thrusting His prick into the
fagboy's throat.  The slave moaned happily as his face was softly fucked by
his Master's cock.

Master woke up from the semi-sleep to find Himself face-fucking His fagboy.
"Jesus, bitch, you are born for this job, aren't you?"

Ryan looked up at his Master and smiled, nodding in place while keeping his
lips wrapped around Master's erection.  Master rolled back on his back,
grabbed His fagboy's ears, and fucked his face in earnest.  When Master's
erection expanded and pulsed, the fagboy could tell He was about to cum.
He wrapped his faggot tongue around Master's cock and sucked hard, pulling
the cum out of His delicious dick.

"Holy fuck.  Yeah, suck my load out, faggot.  Pull it from my balls."

The fagboy gulped as his mouth filled with his Master's tasty seed.  He
practically cried in joy.  This is what he was born for.  This was his
purpose and his home.  This was what he wanted for the rest of his life.
Master's pleasure, Master's orgasm, fulfilled and validated him like
nothing else.  His fagdick pulsed and drooled even harder, but the fagboy
didn't need any orgasm but the one he was just granted.  He felt like he
just shot his own load from Master's cock.  He stayed in place and
continued to softly worship his Master's cock, hoping for the nourishment
of His piss.

It took awhile, but eventually he was granted that gift as well.  Master
apparently hadn't gone for awhile, because the flow was fast and full.  But
by this time, the fagboy had become an expert at being a useful urinal and
had no problem keeping up with the flow.  He heard Master sigh softly as He
finished emptying His bladder down his fagboy's throat.  The fagboy,
Master's fagboy, sucked and pulled the remaining piss from His Master's
cock.

"Fuck, yes," Master moaned, half asleep.  He woke himself up and looked at
the clock.  It was just after midnight.  "If the fagboy behaves well, you
can nurse My meat all night long."  The fagboy moaned in joy.

The next thing the fagboy knew was a kick to his head.  "Wake up, dipshit.
Apparently you fell asleep and let my cock out of your mouth.  Time to lock
you back up and send you to your cell."

The fagboy obeyed, sliding his crotch up the bed so Master could push the
fagdick back into its prison.  "Master, I can answer your question.  I know
what I feel for you."

"OK.  Then it's time for the fagboy to spill the beans.  Let's hear it."

"Master, You saved my life.  I mean, I don't think I would have killed
myself or anything, but there's no way I'd ever have felt this kind of
happiness without You.  You've given my life meaning.  You are my savior,
Master.  You're like my goddamn God."

Master chuckled, liking the way that was phrased.  "I'm going to replay
those words in my head for the rest of the night.  Now go to bed."

The fagboy crawled into the cell and curled up next to his fagdad.  His
entire body shook with pleasure as his father, still asleep, wrapped his
arm around his fagboy.  Yes, this was fucking perfect.  He had so much to
be thankful for.  There was no way he could ever repay his Master, no
matter what was demanded of him.