King Stephen

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Fagboy serves straight alpha.
3.5k words
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For years I'd worshipped Stephen C from afar. We met when we lived in a group household in San Francisco. There were four off us, all students. Stephen was quick to establish himself as the alpha male of that house. I know he scolded me more than once for neglecting house chores. I at first was indignant, feeling - "who the hell does he think he is, my father?" Indignant, yes, but I was also rattled by Stephen's fierce energy and vehemence when he reprimanded me. Those brief, explosive tongue-lashings also began to make my penis squirm with delight inside my pants. I would hear his rebuke, and, while receiving his harsh words, I'd be envisioning myself on my knees behind him, kissing his ass while he chewed me out. It wouldn't matter if he were clothed or not. Just the pure symbolic power of kissing a strong man's ass in a show of submission made me feel like a happy whore - and, indeed, I am a self-effacing weakling, truly less than a man. In this life, I only wish to devote myself to a real man, a whole man; as his servant - his helpful underling.

Now, after a period of subtle suggestions on my part that I was ready and very willing to be his boy, Stephen has come to acknowledge our bond.

I think he began to discover the pleasure of having an inferior man grovel (symbolically), at his feet, which I did with increasing boldness, over time, always submitting to his wishes without hesitation. Soon, though, I would literally grovel at the Master's feet and be his faithful little dog.

Today, Stephen lives alone in a nice apartment on Russian Hill. I go there three times a week to clean the apartment and to do his laundry. I have all kinds of cleaning products - brooms, brushes, and mops - stored there. I've never loved work before, but the 'pay' I get is sooooo good, I can't wait to get into harness! So, on a typical cleaning day, I go to work. Stephen might lounge on the sofa watching sports, or he may have business to conduct. He does much of his work from home.

After I work, Stephen inspects. This is a nail-biting event for me. He looks at everything, and he's more than ready to twist my ears if he finds something amiss. Once he slapped my face really hard for allowing a dishtowel to fall to the floor. Boy! that made my head spin! But as the image of his hand emerged redly on my cheek, my ears ringing, I stood there looking down at the floor between us, and I knew. I knew that this was what I wanted. I wanted to serve Stephen. Not just some guy like him. I wanted to be on my knees kissing his feet. I wanted to be his boy. Later, I relived the moment in my mind. I realized with a start that I wanted to feel his hand against my cheek again, to hear that "crack!" as it makes contact and reverberates.

Lately, Stephen has chosen to be naked when I'm there. Or he might just wear an old T-shirt and socks, if it's chilly. In either case, I get to see that fine swinging dick of his! Prominent, full helmeted, five and a half inches long when soft, low hanging balls, and all crowned with a thick black pubic bush! What a dream cock! And what a man it hangs from, too.

Well before I ever admired it in the flesh, I've had something like a schoolgirl's crush on Stephen's ass. I simply remember walking a bit of a distance behind him, once or twice,

by happenstance. Going for a bus, let's say, when he'd preceded me out the door by a minute.

And, I could see as I looked hungrily at him - my mind could envision - the beauty of his behind. And it truly is a manly ass. One that deserves, is due, in fact, the admiration of others; especially of a fag like me.

Even back then, I would hurry home to our shared apartment if I'd been lucky enough to walk behind him earlier that day. With the image of his, warm, white, slightly hairy ass fresh before my needy mind, I would rush to my room and discharge my passion in warm viscous loops of semen as I moaned his name.

That "pay" I mentioned? It's this: If the inspection goes well, then I get to service him! Oh, happy day!

And remember, I'm crawling behind this man who is naked from the waist down. Talk about a carrot on a stick. So I am so very ready to get behind him and show my respect! He'll normally give me a passing grade by tousling my hair and saying "good boy". This makes me so relieved because then I can show him my other talents!

Stephen likes to have my full attention when I service him. Of course, there's nothing I'd rather do more! He will sit in a leather armchair in the living room, relaxed, in charge, his penis already showing interest in what's to come. I kneel on the carpet about five feet away from him. I'm usually very excited at this point. And nervous.

Stephen will drape his tall, rangy frame into the chair. his arms over the sides, and his legs spread wide. The night I refer to here was no different.

"What are you thinking, Jimmy?" he asked me, point blank.. And, scary as it is to reveal all my bad and dirty thoughts to him, I do it. The answers shock even me, as I speak them softly to him.

"I can barely hear you. Speak up! Be a man!" He said in his firm, assertive voice., and this embarrassed me. I sometimes blush and look down. But I obey.

"Mr Stephen, sir. I was thinking about smelling the seat of your chair if you were to get up from it."

A smile spread across his face. He laced his fingers behind his head, and slumped more comfortably into the chair while I thought of what I'd just said. God, how embarrassing. A grown man, or so my years would lead one to believe. While normal men were basking in the sun of success - in both the world of money and business, and in mating and having progeny, I crept in the shadows, my small penis throbbing at one perverse thought or another.

Stephen chuckled at my embarrassment.

"And what would you expect to find there?"

"Sir?"

He gave an exasperated sigh. "The seat of my chair, dumb ass. When I get up? Remember?" he said, shaking his head. "Pathetic."

"Oh! Of course, sir. I'm so sorry. I was confused for a second." I said. I could hear my heart thumping in my chest.

"Whatever. Now give me the reasons for your smell-the-chair fantasy."

Sir, I was thinking how sweet it would be if you rose up from your chair and left the room. Then, feeling very excited and naughty, I would rush to your chair and bury my face into it."

"To what result would you take such action?" he asked casually, knowing full well the answer.

Sir, it would be to get the smell of your anus up my nose." I stuttered. Now I was really blushing! The more deeply I blushed, the louder and more hearty was Stephen's laughter.

"You really are a pig, jimmie!" Master said, still laughing. "Do you agree?"

Oh, certainly, Sir! A groveling little faggot pig who loves cleaning the Master's asshole!" I blurted out.

"Well said, boy! So we might conclude that you're fond of the way my asshole smells?" he said, tauntingly.

By now, blood was also rushing to my groin, and my small, stiff penis bobbed and jerked uncontrollably. Stephen seemed to enjoy watching it.

Stephen continued. "Wouldn't you rather smell the real article, Jimmy?"

"Oh, my, yes! Oh certainly I would!" I said, and never was I so ready to get my face between his soft, warm buttocks.

I began shifting around on the carpet before him, not unlike the way a dog behaves when he knows master has a special treat in his hand. I was quite excited at the coming prospect!

I'll give you some background. Mr Stephen sometimes withholds access to his buttocks and asshole as a way of flexing his muscle, showing he is boss. I remember the longest absence - 9 days. I broke down into a sniveling heap on the morning of day 5. He'd been treating me so coldly, torturing me with his indifference to my pain. I just cried at his feet. He paid no mind, just read his paper, then pushed me aside with his foot as he left.

Now, with a clean record, and Master's approval of my housework, I could practically smell and taste the exquisite odors that develop in a man's butt crevice from shower to shower - reminiscent of aged cheese.

"Jimmy, I'm going to let you make love to my buttocks here in a moment." Stephen stated without much emotion or even interest. He loves to play cool.

I began to feature the robust, manly - shaped ass of Mr Stephen. Mmmmmmmm! Even resting my face against one of his cheeks - it feels like a baby finding its mother's breast!

Mr Stephen rose from the chair.

"Come and sniff, if you want." he said. I felt so embarrassed, though.

"Get it while it's still warm, boy." he instructed, and I crawled to his chair and buried my face in the warm leather, and breathed in his manhood.

Master stood, arms folded, with his back to me. I took in the exquisite image of his ass. He had his hip cocked to one side, so that one cheek was more contracted and higher than the other. They both looked so soft and warm. And manly! At the snap of his

fingers, I approached and softly pressed my lips to his right ass cheek. So warm! So beautiful. I covered every square inch of the right cheek, then continued on with the left. All the time, Mr Stephen was calling me names like "loser faggot" and "asslicking pigboy". Naturally, this only made me more stimulated, for I was those things, and needed to hear it.

"Now, in order to enjoy the pleasures to be found between my handsome cheeks, there is a test." he announced happily.

Reaching to the side of his chair, he picked up something and held it enclosed in his hands, in his lap. I could see that it was a piece of cloth of some sort. When he unfurled the cloth before me, I saw with shock that it was a pair of Master's underwear briefs.

were white with a colorful waistband, classic. As Mr Stephen played with the briefs, I could see that they'd been worn.

"I decided I'd like to see my jimmy being my personal washing machine." He said holding up the stained underwear.

"And if you get my drift, you won't be using soap." He said mischievously.

"Now this brown streak is going to be challenging," he said, displaying the principle stain. There was the streak, darker toward the middle, then fading towards the tips.

"So, what do you say, pardner, can you make these really clean for me?" he said, twirling the briefs on his index finger. My eager eyes and trembling body answered unequivocally.

Master came forward and draped his undies over my head.

"Get to work, boy. Clean it up. That's a good boy." he whispered.

I pressed my face on the dead center of the stain, and breathed. The barn-like, musty odor of his fecal stains aroused me considerably.

"Rules are simple. It's all mouth. The stains go into your mouth, and you gently chew them until they're gone. Chew, swallow. Chew, swallow. You'll need to take them out off your mouth to gage your progress. I suppose you'll figure out your own system."

"Mr Stephen?"

"Yes, jimmy?"

"Sir, could I please keep a glass of water nearby so that I can keep the saliva fresh and effective?" I queried, thinking ahead. The cotton of the brief would be absorbing much of the saliva.

"Of course, lad.", he said. "What a question! " He gave me a playful knock on the head with a knuckle. "We want your mouth to work at its best, don't we?"

I went for the water, and asked Master if I could possibly have a pillow to kneel on while I did the cleaning.

"I want my underwear cleaning boy to have every advantage." he said in a mocking tone. "Of course, a pillow. I don't want you moaning about your sensitive faggot knees halfway through."

He returned to his chair. I knelt on the sofa pillow I'd chosen. I lifted the briefs to my face. Hmmmmm. How to start... I wondered.

"Get going fag. I've got things to do today."

"Yes, Master!" I said, noting with alarm his tone of chagrin.

Naturally, I knew that what I was doing was completely degrading, and I loved that. Yes. I would do this for my man, for my Master. I would eat, no, make that drink ,his shit. And he, there, just watching me as if I were some strange, rare animal in a cage.

I must admit, I made a bit of a spectacle of myself as I set to my work. After less than a minute, I'd abandoned my methodical game plan. I took the entire stained section into my mouth and I moaned like an animal as I gnawed on it, sucking Master's essence from the cloth. I took it out and looked it over feverishly. I couldn't wait to present the

fully cleaned garment to Master! I pressed the - now quite moist - section I'd been working on to my face, inhaling his ass funk smell. God! It made me high! I loved it.

Mr Stephen ordered me closer so that he could rest his legs on my shoulders while I worked. I moved my head from one side to the other, kissing his calves in turn. Mr Stephen, his arms crossed on his chest, watched with a look of great interest and amusement. He was now erect. He obviously liked what he saw.

So, now, as I enjoyed making special broth from my Master's underwear, I could steal glances at his swollen hard-on. The head, as always when he's aroused, was a taut, shining, purple bulb, awaiting the attention that it knew would soon come.

It must have been close to an hour when I nervously appraised the condition of the briefs, holding them up to the lamplight. 'Yes', I thought. 'These are now clean. I've got it all.' I told Master that I was ready to present my work.

He took the underwear from me and brought it under the light of the lamp beside him.

"Good work, jimmy! I'd say those are as clean as when they were in the store. Good boy!"

I always loved his encouraging words, his praise.

Oh! Thank you mr Stephen. I worked hard on them." I said, softly, trying not to get emotional.

"I could see that, jimmy! Very nice work. Hey! I've got a name for you.' he said coyly.

"Yes, master?"

"Maytag mouth! Ha! My very own maytag mouth faggot. How sweet is that!"

"Good one, Sir! Ha, ha! And I'm a front-loader!" I said, laughing giddily.

Master roared with glee.

"It doesn't get any better than this!" Master enthused, drying his eyes.

"Put these by the window to dry, boy." he said, handing me the briefs. "We'll have to do this more often, eh?" Master said, and I could sense his excitement. That delighted me so. Another way to please him!

"Now, my boy, your reward." Master said solemnly.

Mr Stephen, knowing full well the great respect and admiration I have for him, presented his ass to me. There I knelt while Master stood, his back to me. I had already worshipped his ass cheeks, but I nevertheless gave each a soft audible kiss. Then, at the hand gesture of Mr Stephen, one he had established as "giving permission", I began to run the tip of my nose up and down his ass crack. Mr Stephen stood there, naked, a wide-legged stance, arms folded on his chest.

With each pass up or down his crack, I allowed my nose to go lower. At this point, my nosetip was getting more heat, and more moisture, due to its being in a dark, enclosed area. The smell was heavenly -rich, earthy, masculine.

Finally, my nose came to rest on Master's anus. When it touched, the anus puckered reflexively, almost as though it had given my nose a kiss! But after that, the kissing and licking and sucking would all be done by me.

Master pulled at my head so that my face came away from his crevice. I knelt silently looking at, revering, the soft, warm globes of his ass. Master, always ready to tease, lifted up one of his buttocks, and the let it go. I watched hungrily as the buttock swayed languidly before me.

"You are in love with my ass, isn't that right, jimmy?" Master said in a kindly confidential tone. He knew that it's a hard thing for me to talk about. It. Too intimate, I guess. Naturally, I blushed, feeling foolish in doing so. Master, looking over his shoulder at me on the floor, shook his head in amusement and gave my head a few pats.

"Are you in love with , you know, the whole thing, the whole ass, or just a

certain part...?" Master coaxed. He knew that once I became excited by the sight of his ass, I would open up more, and talk about my feelings.

I cleared my throat. " The anus, Sir." I said.

"Ah! The place where I discharge my waste every day?"

"Yes, Sir.", I said, my eyes glued to the soft, warm ass cheeks before me.

"Why is that such a special place for you, jimmy. Why there?"

"Sir, I worship you. My natural position in life is to be on my knees before or behind men like yourself. And because you are much greater than I am, I naturally feel at home at your lowest point; your anus." I said. "I am no better than a pile of shit compared to you." I said, feeling a euphoria wash over me as I spoke the words.

"Well let me tell you something, jimmie boy." Master said, now facing me, his hand under my chin, lifting my eyes to him. "I thinks it's great that you love my asshole the way you do. I feel so special and, well, strong , when you're back there making love to it." he said.

"As you know, I've had other faggots in the past. And they were all very motivated, You know, In my opinion, the dog isn't man's best friend, the faggot is!" he said, laughing.

"And you, jimmy, are the kind of fag I really click with."

"I'm so happy to hear you say that, Sir!" I said as I knelt face-to-face with his sweet cock and low-hangers. Yum! Perhaps later I will serve there as well! I gave the penis head a quick, secretive wink.

Master went to the back of his armchair, rested his forearms on the top of it, spread his legs wide, and ordered me over. I scampered across the carpet until I was behind him.

And there it was in its magnificence. His warm, brown pucker proudly took center stage. Such beauty, flanked by the white buttocks, was indescribable. It was regal; like a king on his throne. I moved into position, and brought my lips to rest onto Master's warm, tacky asshole. Oh, sweet reunion!

I very passionately french-kissed him there for a good fifteen minutes. Boy! Did I make love to it! Master gave words of exhortation as I sucked.

"Yes! jimmie! Mmmmm! Goddam!, you sure know my asshole inside out."

Actually It seemed like I was trying to turn his asshole inside out, I was sucking it so hard! His sweet asshole is my sustenance. I licked and sucked the essence of a real man. I made it mine, and I gained great respect for it.

So, I worked assiduously at cleaning and stimulating Master. And his words of appreciation, so sweetly expressed, were a benediction to me. I thanked him.

"I love being your ass-sucking fag-boy, Sir.You have the sweetest ass." I said to him as though giving a confession.

"And, jimmy, no kidding, son, you honor me with the depth of your devotion to it. You are a one of a king faggot, and I'm glad I found you! I don't think there's a man anywhere in this wide world who has a cleaner or happier asshole than me!"

"Oh! Thank you dear Master! You have made me happy as well." I stammered, tears clouding my vision.

To be continued...

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AnonymousAnonymousover 5 years ago
FUCK.NO.

I DON'T LIKE BULLUES OR BULLY STORIES.

1*

63lsmith63lsmithabout 8 years ago
A FAIR START

Not real sure about this one, but would be willing to read the next chapter.

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