realmennnnn

[realmennnnn]

You scrub the dishes frantically as you overhear Connor watching videos on his phone. Connor is known to take long shits - it’s his time to get caught up on all things sports, text his buddies, and check all the relevant social media platforms. With an average time of 20 minutes, it should be just long enough for you to thoroughly clean each and every dish.

As the 15-minute mark approaches, you somehow finalize the dishes and decide to move on to the counters, making sure each surface is impeccable. Finally, with two minutes to go, you drop to your hands and knees and lick up the dirty sneaker marks Connor has left in the entryway and living room. Naturally, you use your tongue, reveling in the taste.

When you finally hear the toilet flush, you grab Connor’s bag and place it on the coffee table. You then move into a kneeling position with your head bowed downwards - of course. Right as you do so, Connor exits the bathroom, leaving even more dirty sneaker marks on the floors. He approaches the couch and sits down. “Thanks for grabbing my bag, faggy. I’m sure you’re excited to know what’s inside. I left you a gnarly mess in the bathroom. You gotta clean that up before I can let you see your new presents.”

You crawl to the bathroom with the stench of Connor’s shit getting stronger and stronger as you approach. You look into the toilet bowl to see shit streaks covering the entire thing. You give it a thorough clean and reluctantly spray some Febreeze. You wish you could sniff and stare at that toilet all night.

After crawling back to the couch, you look down at Connor’s sneakers. “Alright, faggot, the time has come. Let’s start the faggot ceremony and look at all of your new presents.” He opens the backpack and excitedly pulls out a chastity cage. “First, you’ll need to put this on. I’m sure you have a raging boner whenever you’re around me, and even when you’re cleaning up after me,” he says with a laugh, “but that has to change. You are not allowed to perve out on me.”

He hands you the cage. With no hesitation, you open the packaging and pull it out. “Sir Connor, do I have permission to remove my pathetic dicklet from the secrecy of my clothing?” you ask. He nods his head in agreement while letting out yet another laugh. You pull your pants down and look up at him, thinking he may want to be the one to put it on. “Go ahead, faggy. Come on, you know I have no reason to touch that itty-bitty thing.” You put the chastity cage on your tiny erect dicklet, cramming it into the even tinier device. You’ve never been harder in your life, so it’s nearly impossible to fit on. Your tiny dicklet strains as you take the key and officially lock the cage on. You pass the key to Connor before he pulls out the next item.

“Next, I have a chain I bought. Now that I’m no longer trying to abide by your liberal fag agenda, I got myself a cross chain. I thought it would add to my extremely masculine demeanor, especially given that I am a Christian who doesn’t believe in loser fags like yourself. Thank you for finally being honest about who you are. We have no place being in a relationship.” He takes the chain out of the bag and slips the key on to it. He then wraps it around his neck and lets it slowly dangle down his chest. Your fag dicklet strains harder.

“For the next gift, I have a maid’s costume. It includes a skirt and stockings. I thought both would help feminize my faggot housewife. It also comes with an apron, which you can use while cleaning. You’ll be expected to wear this anytime you’re around me, whether in the home or outside of it.” He hands the costume to you and gestures for you to head to the other room. You crawl into the bathroom once again and pull on the costume. You give yourself a brief glance in the mirror before exiting. You can’t believe how girly you look. You’d never looked this faggotty before, even when you’d done drag on Halloween.

As you head outside on all fours, Connor can’t help but let out a long and boastful laugh. “Stand up for me, faggy, just this once. I want to see it in full effect.” As you rise, Connor lets out yet another laugh. You feel humiliated. “Remember to keep yourself fully shaven per usual. I don’t want to see a single hair on my little housewife.” You love when he calls you that, and you’ll do anything to make it stick.

“Now, I have three flags to show you. Since I won’t be abiding to your homo liberal policies anymore, I got a MAGA flag, an American flag, and a “Saturdays Are For the Boys” flag. The first one will be hung in the living room, and the latter two will go in my bedroom.” He reaches into the bag again. “Oh shit, and I got some LED lights since I’ll be having many, many more guys over. The boys told me these really help set the mood with chicks. I assume the same can be said about gay men. These will go in my bedroom. You can hang all of this up tomorrow.” Your dicklet strains even harder than before. You’re not sure it can get any more painful than this.

“I also purchased you a dildo that sticks to the wall. It has a counting device at the end that will measure how many times you touch your nose to the back of the device. I know my cock is only 7 inches, but this dildo is 9. I want to make sure that you are completely ready to take my dick anytime I don’t have a boy over.” He sticks his hand back in the bag, feeling around for another item. “Oh, I also got you a device that will keep your teeth off my dick and keep your mouth wide open when I’m face fucking you. I am going to enjoy all of our sessions, and I hope that you will grow to love them too. A brutal face fucking will be the closest thing you get to sex for the rest of your life”, he says with a laugh. He sticks the dildo on the wall and gestures for you to try. You slide your mouth up and down the thing for nearly five minutes, doing everything in your power to hit the button. You hit it nearly 15 times while gagging incessantly. Connor tells you that he’s …. somewhat impressed.

“You know, I almost picked up some condoms, but then I realized I won’t ever need those. I’ll just go raw like I did last night with that boy! What was his name again?” he asks with a laugh. “I also realized that I won’t be giving you your credit card back. I’ll just keep it for my personal use. You can keep your other one, though. You know, in case you’re ever out buying stuff for me, but that’s all it’s meant for now. No spending on yourself allowed!”

Connor stands up and heads toward the front door. You look up at him with a perplexed face. “Come on, faggy. Your last gift is outside. I was too drunk to carry it in earlier.” As he approaches the front door, he opens it, and you crawl towards him. You crawl down the front porch and onto the gravel driveway. Your knees sting. Connor follows behind you, giving you butt a slight kick. He opens the trunk of his car, and you look up to see a dog cage. Your heart drops. “Do you like it, faggy?”

While terrified, you know you have to show Connor that you’re excited. You have to please your master, especially now that it’s become official. You let out a couple barks and wag your butt back and forth. You then shower his sneakers with kisses. “Good boy,” he says, “let’s get it moved inside.” Connor grabs the dog cage and carries it into the house. You follow behind on hands and knees. You pray no one is watching you crawl in your maids outfit.

As you get back inside the house, you follow Connor into the living room. He sets the cage down against the wall that separates the living area from his bedroom. “This is perfect. You won’t need to sleep in my room anymore, but you’ll still certainly hear me fucking any guys I have over,” he says, letting out another laugh. This faggot ceremony certainly seems to be more about Connor than it is about yourself.

Connor gestures for you to climb inside the cage. As you crawl in and lay down, you notice how uncomfortable it is. There’s no padding at all. You pray that Connor will give you some dirty clothes to sleep on. However, you just washed all of them, aside from his current outfit, so you know you won’t be sleeping very well tonight. Connor lets out a huge laugh as you crawl inside the cage. You turn to kneel within it and notice his flash go off. He’s just taken a photo of you. You wonder who it’ll be sent to, maybe the lads already know about your new arrangement. For the first time ever, you speak out of turn. “Sir Connor, who is that for?” you say. He replies back with “oh, come on, faggy. You know I had to tell my friends about your new life at the bar today. When I showed them the cage in my car, they begged for a photo update. I think they’re going to come over one day this week to watch you in all your glory as my new foot faggot! They’ll expect some services too I’m sure.”

Connor locks you into the cage and pulls a chair over in front of it. He sits down and pulls his sneakers off as he continues texting the boys. You stare at his socked feet, feeling deflated that you aren’t being allowed near them. They look incredible with dirt stains all over them. You press your nose up against the cage, hoping he’ll show you some action. “Oh yeah, faggot? You desperate for the pups?” he says with another laugh. He presses one of his feet up against the cage. He fans and flexes his toes over your nose multiple times, listening to you take large whiffs as he texts. You look up at Connor whose eyes are still glued to his phone. While still taking big sniffs, you say “Sir Connor, may I be allowed out of the cage to properly service your feet? They’ve been locked in those foot prisons all day, and they deserve some proper tending to.” Connor looks down from his phone and towards you. “Oh yeah, faggot? You think so? Don’t I get to decide what my feet need? More importantly, don’t I get to decide what you need and deserve?” You look down with a deflated face as Connor pulls his foot away. You say nothing back, knowing he’s right and that he has no desire to hear your opinion. Connor’s eyes wander back to his phone, and you can’t help but stare at how perfect his socked feet look. You examine each one separately, staring at the dirt marks as we wiggles his toes and stretches his feet. Your loser dicklet strains yet again in its cage.

After 15 minutes of pure torture, Connor unlocks the dog cage, asking if you’ve learned your lesson. “Yes, Lord Connor, I should never question you. You know what’s best for you and me, Sir. Thank you for showing me that, Master.” He walks to the couch and lays down, kicking his feet back. You’re sad you didn’t get to experience his feet in their full glory - straight from their sneakers. However, you’re still hopeful he’ll allow you to tend to them now. He beckons you over to the couch, and you kneel by his beautiful socked feet.

He scrolls on his phone while you wait patiently, unable to look away from his feet. Your fag clit has never hurt so bad, now having been pressed up against its metal cage for nearly an hour. “Peel ‘em off, faggot. You’ve worked hard today, aside from questioning my decision. You know that I know what’s best. Don’t forget it.”

You peel off each of Connor’s socks and give them a good sniff. You dive into his feet, licking every nook and cranny. You suck on each toe and lick every crevice in between. You glide your tongue up and down his entire sole, paying special attention to his heels. You’re sure to scrape off any dead skin with your teeth, enjoying the incredible flavor.

After 20 minutes of Connor scrolling and you licking, he pulls down his shorts. He points to the mouth spreading device on the coffee table. You grab it, strapping it on to your mouth. Connor moves into a sitting position on the couch and kicks his bare feet up on to the coffee table. You climb under one leg and pop up in between that one and the other. You try to ask if you should start, but the device makes it impossible to talk. Connor puts his phone down as one hand raises up and grabs the back of your head. He pulls your face down full force on to his cock.

With instinct, Connor begins bouncing your head like a basketball, bringing it up and down on his cock. You sputter spit everywhere, unable to swallow it since your mouth is locked open. This goes on for five minutes before Connor stands up and pushes you against a wall. He begins face fucking you with extreme force. His cock hits the back of your throat repeatedly. Tears begin streaming down your face while Connor looks at you for the first time since starting. He notices the tears while letting out a laugh. “It’s okay, faggot. I’ll take care of you.”

Somehow his momentum picks up. Your head bangs against the wall time and time again. Then, finally, he groans “I’m gonna cum.” You make noises begging for him to do so since you’re completely unable to talk. The cum finally spews and goes straight down your throat, not even gracing your tongue once. His dick slams your head against the wall one last time while string after string of cum flows down your throat.

He holds still for a moment, reveling in his accomplishment. He finally pulls out of your mouth, and a stream of piss immediately begins filling up your mouth. You keep your headed tilted upwards with your open hole of a mouth left for Connor to fill. As he’s finishing up, he tells you not to swallow. You try your best and soon your mouth is full of piss, all of the flavor just sitting on your tongue. You refuse to upset your master.

He makes you crawl into the dog cage, and only then does he tell you to swallow. He removes the mouth opener and drops it on the ground, disgusted that he’s even touched it. You sit patiently on your knees in the cage as Connor grabs his socks, shorts, underwear, and sneakers, tossing them inside with you. He pulls his shirt off, revealing his gorgeous body and cross chain. Your dicklet desperately tries to grow.

With that he locks the cage and puts a bell and rope on the door. “This rope is so you can unlock yourself from the cage tomorrow morning when you go to clean my car. I expect it done around 6am. The bell is to ensure that you don’t leave until instructed. I’ll set an alarm on your phone so you know when to get up. Oh, and my new flags and LEDs - you can hang those once I’m awake. I’m so happy you’ll get to stare at the MAGA flag every night from your cage. It’ll help remind you of your lowly status. Goodnight, faggot.” He sticks his toe through one of the slots of the cage, and you instinctually give it a good suck. You then watch intently as he walks into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him and never once looking back at you.

It’s officially been a full day in your new role as Connor’s foot faggot, and you couldn’t be happier. Think about all of the things you’ve accomplished in the last 28 hours! Have you been fulfilled? Don’t answer that; it’s a rhetorical question.

[realmennnnn]

With Connor away on his 5-mile hike, you thoroughly clean everything in sight. You start with his laundry, including each of the glorious socks he had worn over the past week. You give all of them a brief sniff before placing them in the laundry machine. While sniffing, you become terrified that you may not have a single item of clothing to sleep with that night. You pray that Connor will give you the clothes he wore on his hike or at least his destroyed Nike sneakers to sleep with. Next, you clean the entire home, scrubbing every room and organizing any out of place items, including Connor’s massive stack of dirty dishes. You also spend a particularly long amount of time in both his mudroom and bathroom, using your tongue to clean his muddy footprints off the floor as well as all of his pee off the toilet. Afterwards, you give each of his sneakers a good cleaning, yet again using your tongue with impeccable detail while savoring each blade of grass and splotch of dirt.

With the first load of laundry done, you throw all of his bedding in the washer. You iron and fold each clothing item and can’t help but stare at his XL sized shirts, shorts, underwear, and socks once they’ve been perfectly cleaned and pressed. You recognize how lucky you are to even be in the presence of these items.

By now, it’s been three hours, and you’ve heard nothing from Connor. You become nervous that something may have happened but neglect to reach out since it’s not your place to bother your potential alpha. Instead, you move outside, mowing the entire lawn and weeding Connor’s select number of plants.

With sweat running down your entire body, you head back inside to make Connor’s bed with his freshly cleaned and pressed sheets. Finally, you head out of the house on your way to grocery store, dropping the trash into the necessary bin on your way out. You hope you’ll be allowed to wash his car tomorrow since you weren’t given access today.

Halfway to the store, and nearly five hours after Connor left, you receive a message from your Lord. “Hey, faggy. The lads wanted to do some day drinking, so I’m out with them. I’ll be home in a couple hours. You better be keeping yourself busy. By the way, pick up some dog food if you make it to the grocery store.”

You have no idea why Connor would need dog food. He certainly doesn’t have a dog. However, you refuse to question your master. You’re certain that if Connor says he needs dog food, then he needs dog food. He’s an alpha after all, so he knows best! You’re just happy that you had anticipated Connor’s desire for you to grocery shop.

As you enter the store, you couldn’t help but look at every possible item. You needed to make sure that you bought every item Connor could possibly want. You pick up six varieties of fresh meat and fish, a large helping of fruits and vegetables, and several hearty grains. Finally, you make your way to the dog food. As you look into your cart, you realize that you were likely to spend more than $200 on Connor’s food alone. You hoped he’d share some of his scraps since you hadn’t bought anything for yourself. With finances in mind, you went for the cheapest dog food possible, made with purely synthetic materials. After all, Connor didn’t have a dog, so you didn’t see a point in overspending on this item - your mistake.

After checking out at a whopping $275, you walk home, carrying an obscene amount of groceries. With four bags hanging off either arm and a bag of dog food wrapped between them, your body aches by the time you reach the grocery store parking lot! You walk as fast as you can, making it back to Connor’s house in roughly 25 minutes. You breathe heavily the entire way and nearly start crying. You remind yourself that this is only true since you’re a weak, pathetic faggot.

As soon as your home, you start your final chore of the day, cooking Connor’s glorious Sunday night meal. You realize he could be home any moment, so you get to work rapidly. You carefully put together a salad and start cooking a box of pasta. Then, you cut up even more vegetables, making a batch of tomato sauce from scratch. You don’t dare prepare a subpar dinner, and you know you must have it done on time. Connor comes first after all! You race to the finish line, hearing keys jingling in the door nearly 40 minutes later. With only the food done, you realize the dishes will have to wait until later, and you pray Connor won’t be upset.

You run over to the front door and drop to your knees. You bow your head as anticipation grows within you. You hope Connor will be pleased with your housework and cooking. Even more, though, you simply cannot wait to see your 6’3” and 220 pound master as well as his glorious size 13s. Connor steps through the front door, and you stare down at his beautiful sneakers and socks. They’re caked in dirt, and their pungent smell hits your nose with gusto. You’re immediately enamored and begin showering each sneaker with kisses, taking great joy in their scent and appearance.

Connor stumbles a bit and leans back against the door. He crosses one foot over the other and flashes a devilishly sexy grin at you. With his balance back, he steps around your weak frame. You can tell that he’s wasted and, as a result, likely highly sadistic. He drops his bag on the ground and makes his way to the couch. With such a hefty bang, you know the bag is full; you’re happy to know that his shopping trip was successful.

He lays back on the couch and turns his eyes toward the football game you had turned on for him. His sneakered feet dangle beautifully off the side of the sofa. He lets out a huge belch, and you wish you were next to him, giving it a sniff. However, like a proper fag, you wait patently by the front door for further instruction. He pulls his pants down on the couch, leaving them hanging by his knees. You look at his beautiful cock, remembering that just two days ago, you were afforded the privilege of sucking and riding it. He calls you over, using his fingers to gesture as well. “I need to take a nap, but I want my dick to be well taken care of while I’m asleep. Come over here and hold my cock in your mouth until I wake up.”

You crawl over to the couch and kneel in front of his crotch. You look up and notice that his eyes are already shut. You wonder if it would be proper to remove his sneakers from his feet. You hold off since he hasn’t directed you to do so. You wonder how sweaty his feet will be by the time his sneakers finally come off.

You crank your neck into an extremely uncomfortable position and wrap your lips around his cock. Your knees already hurt from the wooden floors, and you can tell that your neck will be in immense pain within minutes. You know it’s going to be a long few hours, but you also know you won’t get access to his feet unless you do exactly what Connor tells you.

As soon as your lips wrap around Connor’s cock, he lets out an ungodly amount of piss, made up of 100% beer. You hear him snicker for a second, laughing at the fact that you had no idea that his piss would be flooding your mouth. He knows you’ll do whatever it takes to swallow every drop. And, he’s right; per usual, you diligently swallow every single drop.

When he finishes peeing, you keep his cock in your mouth, the taste of leftover piss and dick sweat rubbing against your tongue. You take his balls into your mouth, and the flavors grow exponentially. “Good boy,” you hear Connor say. With that, you try your hardest to get comfortable, knowing you’ll be kneeling here tasting his funk and piss for hours to come - just as he asked you to do.

Connor doesn’t wake up once during his three hour nap but somehow lets out several large farts. You take pride in knowing you helped coax and keep him asleep. You also take enjoyment in the flavor of his dick funk as well as the smell of his farts. You can tell that those farts were inspired by an immense amount of greasy food and beer. They smell wonderful.

As Connor finally comes back to life, your head and knees begin to wobble. You can tell that your neck will be in pain for days to come. He reaches for his phone and starts scrolling. With Connor awake, you continue to hold his dick in your mouth but now count down the moments until you’ll be allowed to move. The anticipation of potentially being allowed out of your current position makes the pain grow ten fold.

For the third time of the day, piss starts filling your mouth, and you hope this will mark the end of your time as a human dick pouch. The piss tastes even more stale than the one from a few hours ago, but you revel in every second of it. Maybe swallowing piss is not only a godly blessing but also the purest indulgence known to a faggot.

“Get your mouth off my cock, faggot,” Connor says abruptly with his piss complete. “Time for some of that sauce you got cooking. The pasta better be ready. I ain’t waiting. Go make me a plate.” You’re happy to know that you planned appropriately for this evening.

He begins to sit up from his nap and nearly kicks you in the face. “I told you to get moving. Chop chop.” You give each sneaker another kiss and crawl to the kitchen. You hope you’ll be allowed to enjoy the dirt from his shoes as well as the foot sweat from his socks as he eats. After all, you haven’t consumed a single thing all day.

You stand up and pull the pasta out of the fridge. You place a heaping serving on to a plate, adding your homemade tomato sauce and salad on top. As you get back down on to your knees, you place the plate on your back as well as a set of silverware and a glass of water in each hand. As you crawl back to his feet, you keep your back and hands as straight as possible, refusing to let any food or water end up on the floor. However, you wouldn’t have minded being forced to lick it up. Your stomach was rumbling louder and louder by the minute.

After approaching the couch, Connor takes the plate from your back and puts it on the coffee table. You hand him his water and silverware and then bow your head, so it is resting on his sneakers. You pray he’ll let you peel them off; the steam floating off of them is far too temping. Instead, Connor rises up from the couch unexpectedly, nearly kicking you in the face once again.

“Ay, faggot. Where’s the dog food? I can hear your stomach rumbling. It’s fucking annoying.”

It’s at this time that it clicks for you. The dog food is for you. You’ll be eating dog food in place of human food for the remainder of your life - should Connor allow you to serve him for that long. “Umm, Sir Connor, it’s in the pantry, my Lord,” you say with your head still bowed.

You hear the pantry door open and the big bag of dog food moved around. Connor grabs a bowl and starts filling it. “You know how much of this you’re supposed to feed a dog? I don’t want to underfeed you.” He pauses for a second, letting out a light laugh. “Eh, never mind. You’re a faggot. What would you know?” he snickers, dumping another serving into the bowl.

He makes his way back to the couch and drops the bowl of food on to the floor. “Aw shit, faggy. You just emptied my bladder. I ain’t got any liquid for your food.” Your head remains bowed, sniffing at your meal, but the only thing you can smell are his glorious feet. You hope that smell will help you get this treacherous dog food down. “Move your head, faggot,” Connor says. He works up a loogie and spits it into the bowl. “That will have to do I guess. Now give me a bark and show me how excited you are for your first faggot meal. I thought you’d enjoy this type of food given how much time you spend with the pups,” he says as he wiggles his toes within his sneakers. “Show me how serious you are about serving me. Remember, service doesn’t only include paying for my livelihood and doing all of the chores. It also includes finding ways to spend as little money on yourself as possible. By only eating dog food and drinking my recycled beverages, I estimate nearly $60 in savings each week! That money goes straight back into my pocket! Now bark, faggy.”

You immediately start barking, letting your butt wiggle back and forth too. He didn’t ask for that, but you thought it would play into the effect nicely. He lets out another laugh. “Alright, faggot, go ahead.” You’re happy to know that he enjoyed your act.

You dive your head into the bowl and enjoy your first few loogie-covered bites. By bite number four, all of the loogie is gone, and the flavor becomes progressively worse. You don’t slow down on eating, though; you’ve never felt this hungry before in your entire life. On top of that, you’d never wanted to please someone this much in your entire life. Maybe it was a good thing that Connor dropped you as your boyfriend and made you his faggot. You seemed to be far more productive that way.

Connor attacks his meal nearly as quickly as you do yours, his eyes glued to either the TV or his food the entire time. He lets out a humongous fart followed up by an even bigger burp as his last bite slides down his throat. You sniff at both as you try to finish up your last few bites, terrified that Connor may take it away if you’re not done within seconds of his own completion. As you take your final bite, you realize you’ll have to do all of this over again tomorrow. You pray you’ll get a decent piss to help the food down.

“Ayy, faggy. Good job. You ate all of your food! I am stuffed. That pasta was pretty good, maybe a seven out of ten. Two of those are pity points, though, since I’m sure you put so much of your faggotry into making it.”

Connor turns toward the TV just in time to see the game winning point. Yet again, he nearly kicks you with his sneakered feet as he stands to cheer for the Patriots. After lobbing off a few texts to the boys about the big win, he continues his monologue. “It’s almost time for the faggot ceremony. You’ve earned it. The house and yard look great, my meal was… good enough, and you’ve done a decent job supporting my various needs. I gotta take a shit, so get to cleaning. The kitchen won’t scrub itself,” he says, letting out another laugh. Connor rises from the couch, and you give his sneakered feet yet another kiss. You pray that this so-called “faggot ceremony” will include some foot worship, but you have no idea what to expect. Maybe if you scrub the kitchen at a rapid pace, it’ll earn you some time at his feet.

Look at you, faggot. You’re doing everything in your power to impress your ex-boyfriend, Connor. You’ll literally do anything it takes to sniff and lick those size nasty 13 sneakers, socks, and feet. Think about how pathetic you are! Doesn’t matter, though, you’re loving your new life. You can’t wait to make it official with the faggot ceremony tonight!

[realmennnnn]

That night, you lay on the closet floor. Surprisingly, you sleep pretty well with Connor’s dirty sneakers and socks as your pillow and sweat stained t-shirts and shorts as your blanket. The mix of his musk, cologne, and deodorant create the ultimate relaxation scent… for a faggot at least. However, every couple of hours, you’re awaken from your sleep. Throughout the night, you listen to two more rounds of sex within just a few hours! You can’t help but take big whiffs of Connor’s clothing and sneakers as you listen to the loud sounds of creaking, thrusting, and moaning. You know Connor is beat when you hear his new friend giving the blowjob performance of his life around 8am. Connor must’ve been seriously attracted to this boy since he never asked you for a late night quickie or early morning blowie. Maybe it was just that you weren’t attractive enough.

Shortly after Connor audibly orgasms and cums in the boy’s mouth, you hear your name called loudly. You feel an immediate wave of excitement since you hadn’t been allowed out of the closet at all last night. You were given no opportunity to clean up any lube and cum nor swallow any piss after both cum dumps! You imagine this is by design given the amount of pure elation you feel this morning. You push open the closet doors and crawl to the side of the bed. You kneel there as the boy’s head pops over the side. You hear Connor tell you to open your mouth. As you do, you see his new friend begin to spit out all of Connor’s cum. You open as wide as possible, accepting Connor’s massive load into your mouth. You have no idea how he is capable of producing so much cum after four rounds of sex and a blowjob, especially in less than an eight hour span! You’ll absolutely never object though. The boy lets out a boastful laugh as you lick your lips.

Immediately after, Connor kicks his legs off the side of the bed, and you know to crawl in between them. You wrap your lips around his cock and accept yet another glorious piss as he continues to sit. It is the longest piss you’ve ever taken, and you can taste how yellow it would look in a toilet bowl. After all, he hasn’t drank water or pissed since last night, and he has certainly let out a fair number of loads since you last accepted your fag beverage. The typical smirk covers his face, and you’re so happy to be out of the closet. You can’t wait to serve Connor in whatever capacity he sees fit for that entire Sunday.

After finalizing his piss, Connor signals for you to stay kneeled in front of him as you listen to him work up his morning loogie. You open your mouth wide and look up at him with baited breath. You can tell he’s making you wait on purpose - another tactic to make you more diligent in your unofficial servitude. Finally, he spits the loogie into your mouth, and you savor the flavor. He notices your level of pleasure and commands you to swallow immediately.

“Grab me some gym clothes, fag. Time to work off this hangover with a nice, long hike,” Connor says. The boy gives Connor a sad look and asks if he’s really leaving. Connor replies back “Hell yeah I am, and so are you. You’ve fulfilled your purpose, unless you’d like to become my second loser fag.” The boy goes into a fury, grabbing all of his clothes and storming out of the apartment. “Gay guys, am I right? Thank god I have a real fag, like you. You understand what a man like me needs,” Connor scoffs. He remains in bed and starts scrolling on his phone.

You crawl to Connor’s closet and pick out the perfect workout outfit. His college-branded athletic t-shirt, Nike shorts, a pair of UA mid calf socks, and his beat up Nike Pegasus sneakers. You sneak a quick whiff of his godly size 13 sneakers before laying out all of his clothing on the side of the bed. Since you don’t dare stand in the presence of your self-described master, you neglect grabbing a hat, knowing he’ll do so instead. You pray you made the right decision. You don’t want to give up an opportunity to lick those post-hike feet.

As Connor continues relaxing in bed, you wait patiently on your knees with your head bowed. He finally gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. “Fill my water bottle and grab me a snack. I’ll need something for the road,” he says. You crawl to the kitchen and fill his backpack with the necessities. Once completed, you wait patiently at the front door with his socks, sneakers, and backpack in hand. He makes his way towards you and sits on the bench in the entryway, grabbing his backpack. You notice that he’s adorned a Patagonia ball cap on his head - backwards of course! Your heart skips a beat. He looks so perfect.

You slip his socks on to his feet, taking pleasure in how beautiful they look. You then tie his perfectly worn-in sneakers, noticing that amazing hole near his right big toe. You can’t wait to see how dirty it will become on his hike. Connor stands once the shoes are on, and you gaze at his feet and legs. Your eyes slowly rise up his perfect outfit and body. He couldn’t have looked any sexier.

“Do some cleaning while I’m gone. I’ll be back in a few hours. I gotta make a couple purchases after the hike to officiate your new status. Tonight, you become my true foot faggot, so prove your worth while I’m away. I know how amazing you are at being a domestic,” Connor says. You hand him your credit card, and he gives your hair a pet, like the good dog that you are. You quickly drop your head downwards and give each sneaker a kiss. Well, a make out if we’re being totally honest. You look up to see the usual smirk, and you smile back. He exits the door, and you know it’s time to jump to work.

So much has happened in your new fag life, and it hasn’t even been 12 hours! Hopefully, if all goes well, this will become your official role, and you can live this life everyday! Can you imagine having an actual master to admire and support day-in and day-out? You’d be the luckiest sub-human alive!

[realmennnnn]

“I’m coming home now. Boy in hand. He thinks it’s cute that you’re cucking yourself out. He’s certain you won’t be my boyfriend after tonight. Be there in 20.”

Connor, your 6’3”, muscular boyfriend, strolls through the door. As you kneel in front of him, you stare at his Nike sneakers and mismatched mid calf socks. Your eyes scan up his huge calves and toward his Vineyard Vines shorts and t-shirt. Finally, your gaze reaches his face. He looks so perfect with his backwards MAGA hat and a smirk that spreads across his visage. He holds the door open for the adorable twink behind him. He’s 5’9” and blonde with just enough muscle. He certainly passes for straight, and you can immediately tell why your oh so confident and masculine boyfriend picked him up. The boy shoots you a smile while a small laugh escapes his lips. Neither of them addresses you.

Connor makes his way to the couch, finding the two beers you had left for him and his new friend. He sits down on the couch as his friend crawls on top of his lap and begins to makeout with him. As he slowly raises his feet on to the coffee table, you crawl over to where Connor’s size 13 shoes are resting. You lean into the left shoe and pull off the sneaker. You bring it to your nose, taking several big inhales. You look up as you do so and see Connor’s hands rubbing his new friend’s ass as they continue to make out. He pulls away for a second and tells the boy to watch you. You continue to sniff as his new friend laughs and returns to taking Connor’s tongue down his throat. You take off the right shoe and take a few more sniffs as you watch Connor’s socked toes begin to wiggle. You put both sneakers down right in front of you, the smell wafting up to your nose. You pull each of Connor’s socks off and unleash his glorious feet. You hear him subtly moan as his “puppies” are released from their “foot prisons” - as he likes to refer to them. You give the socks a good sniff and stuff them into Connor’s sneakers.

You watch as Connor diligently wiggles, flicks, and stretches his toes. Immediately, you dive in and lick from the heel to the ball of his foot. Soon, you’re sucking on each toe one by one, making sure to lick every crevice. You hear another burst of laughter as Connor’s friend also gets down to his knees. Connor unleashes his beautiful cock as the boy lets out a simple “wow”. He gets to work quickly, slobbering all over Connor’s cock and enjoying every moment of it. You look up at Connor to find a face of pure bliss. You’re happy to know that you’re contributing to his pleasure.

Several minutes go by, and Connor invites his friend to come into his room. He picks him up and carries him into the room, throwing him onto the bed upon entry. Connor slams the door shut, and you get to work cleaning the soles of his sneakers. You listen as they start to makeout again, and Connor’s friend compliments his domination over loser fags like yourself. You concentrate on his sneakers, enjoying their taste, appearance, and smell. Suddenly, you hear Connor call you to his room. Upon entry, he and his friend are naked, lying on top of one another. Connor stands up with a full boner as he says “watch this” and turns away from his new partner. He tips his hard cock down and rubs it up against your lips. You drop your jaw as he begins to piss down your throat. You vow not to make a mess as you taste the shots and beers he’s enjoyed over the past several hours. As his peeing slows, you feel it dribble down your face and chest. He jumps back on the bed, and you know to exit the room.

Your return to Connor’s sneakers and socks. You immediately get back to work cleaning them. You hear Connor as he rubs lube on his bare cock and pulls the boy to the side of the bed. He lurches into his friend’s ass, and the moaning response is immediate. The bed creaks with every thrust. Connor and his friend pant with every thrust. They moan. The whole time, Connor continually tells the boy how hot he is. The boy is unable to do anything but pant and moan as Connor’s cock reaches deep within him and his tongue remains far down his throat. At many points, you hear Connor pull the boy closer to the edge of his bed, quickly switching back to a strong pounding motion each time. You dare not move as you sit in the living room - you don’t dare ruin your shot at listening to such glorious sounds.

You hear Connor tell his friend that he’s going to cum. The boy ensures he will too - no dick rubbing necessary. Connor tells him once again how hot he is, realizing the power he has over both you and his new friend. It doesn’t take long for either of them to cum, only about 10 minutes into sex. Connor reaches climax as his moans and pants grow louder, burlier, and sexier. With each moan and thrust, you shove your tongue harder and harder against each sneaker sole, licking up every possible morsel of dirt and grime.

You hear kissing begin once again and your name called loudly by Connor. You crawl to the room and enter. Connor’s member remains snug inside the boy; his arms are flexed as he hold his position above the boy. You crawl underneath the boy’s ass and Connor’s penis as he begins to pull out. Lube and sperm fill your mouth. You begin licking the boy's ass rapidly, cleaning up the mess Connor has left behind. You then quickly turn towards Connor, shoving his cock down your own throat. You clean up any leftover lube and cum on his penis and balls, preparing for piss number two of the night. He releases gloriously as you stare up at yet another grin on his face.

He looks to the boy and asks if he wants to spend the night. Connor warns him that he may wake up a few times and require quickies to fall back asleep. When the boy smiles and shakes his head excitedly, you know to make your way to the closet. As you crawl inwards, Connor dumps his laundry basket full of dirty clothes on top of you, which you will use as your pillow and blanket for the night. You hear him walk away as he fetches the pair of shoes and socks he had warn that night too. As he tosses them in, he closes the closet door. You hear the boy audibly giggle, and Connor gets in bed, pulling the boy into his body. “You know what? I actually might be ready for round 2 now. Shall we?” Before the boy even has time to answer, Connor is back on top of him, and the sound of kissing begins again.

By now, you knew you and Connor’s relationship would never be the same. You were destined to forever play the role of his diligent foot faggot. You’d be expected to pick up all costs of living, to conduct all chores, and to appreciate all of the new men in Connor’s life. That’s how you’d earn your keep of course! Those feet weren’t going to come for free, and Connor certainly had no use for you as his boyfriend any longer. Welcome to your new life, faggot.