I’m just starting to feel the effects of downing five vodka-piss drinks as Master Rob prepares to make me his hand puppet. Not only has he never fisted me before, nobody else has, either. And it’s been years since four fingers have been inside my cunt. Nick’s reassuring words, whispered in my ear at Master Rob’s direction, only temporarily eased my anxiety, and Master Rob can sense it.
“Look, faggot, we both know this is going to happen,” he says, no doubt shooting an evil grin in Nick’s direction which I, with my face in Nick’s crotch, cannot see. “You need to relax. What could be better for a pussyboy than to have more of his master inside him than ever before?”
Of course Master Rob is right. He always is. That’s why I’m here, with a belly full of piss and chewed food and a pussy filled with the loads of five hot men, four of whom dumped in me while Master Rob’s awesome dick was also up there. I need this. I want it. I want Master Rob to enjoy his privileges. But I’m still scared.
“Focus on Nick’s balls, pussyboy,” Master Rob says. “Don’t even think about what’s going on in that slimy pussy of yours.”
“I’m all for that, dude,” Nick said. “OK, cunt, lick those balls nice and gentle while my friend Rob makes a mess out of that pussy we used as a cumdump.”
I’m starting to worry that if Nick continues to get into the concept of fag ownership that Master Rob might let him have me at a discount, creating who knows how much mayhem for me. I trust Master Rob, but I’ve only known Nick for about 30 hours or so, and most of that time was spent with him treating me like he owned me. If he acts like that now, what would he be like if he had me alone? Without Master Rob to protect me from pain above and beyond the call of faggot duty?
Speaking of pain, there’s a lot of it in my most personal space as Master Rob works on getting his fist inside me. He was right, of course, about how much I want this. I want to be able to say I’m a FF bottom, but far more than that I want Master Rob to be the first to do something to me. I want him to know I will do ANYTHING for his pleasure or amusement, and unless his fingers are going to shoot cum into me this is pure amusement. And that’s fine. He could fist me in a department store window if he wanted to, and I would thank him afterward.
But a first time is still a first time, and just as I take one of Nick’s balls completely into my mouth I hear Master Rob exclaim, “Oh fuck yeah!” “Are you in?” asks Nick. “Well, I can’t see my thumb if that’s what you mean, but that doesn’t mean I’m in. But phase one is done, and this faggot has no idea how fucking hot this looks.”
“Neither do I,” says Nick, who slides out from under me and walks around the sofa to get a better look. I’d rather be licking his balls than have him seeing what kind of abuse my hole can take, but that’s not my call. But he starts oohing and aahing at Master Rob’s penetration, and you just know the wheels are turning in his head.
Master Rob knows it, too. “Dude, listen, this is a big deal. This will not be on the menu of services. Nobody else is doing this without me being with him.”
I love my Master Rob. I truly do. And for the second (or was it the third?) time today I’m left wondering if he’s developing feeings for his faggot slave. Lots of guys have long-term, loving relationships with a true dom and a true sub, so it wouldn’t be out of the question. And he is gay, after all, even if a couple of his guests today were not. And hey, even if he doesn’t have feelings for me, I still can fantasize, right? He’s so handsome, his body is so hot, his dick is so awesome, his fluids so tasty … why the hell wouldn’t I want to dream about being his?
But in the non-emotional sense, I already am, owned lock, stock and barrel by one of the hottest guys I’ve ever been with. And that hot guy is determined to open me up and get his fist farther in. “Relax that hole, bitch,” he says. “Would you smack that ass for me, bud? My right hand is busy and I’m in an awkward spot to use my left.”
Nick’s sadistic streak returns to the surface as he gives me a hard whack on my sore ass cheek. I whimper, but do not cry out, as much as I want to. “Good boy,” Master Rob said. As hard as it is to feel any pride while one man is working on getting his arm up your pussy while another just smacked you on the ass, I feel pride. Any time Master Rob praises me — and obviously I do mean ANY time — I feel the pride of a job well done. I guess only another faggot would understand, and maybe some alphas. Not all, because a lot of them don’t put any time into thinking about these things. But Master Rob is very into the psychology and philosophy of owning faggots, another reason I love him so much.
The alcohol — or is it the piss? — is starting to make me a little woozy, and that’s just fine. Maybe I’ll pass out and wake up with both of their arms inside me. Or I could wake up to them doing just about anything. But in my weakening state I realize that no matter how tired I might be, five drinks is not going to make me pass out. I’m going to feel every bit of this, even if increasing drunkeness eases the pain a bit.
Suddenly, a whole new sensation develops. I’ve never felt this way before, as if all of my insides are about to come falling out. The pain hits a new level, but I fight the instinct to tense up. Master Rob has done it. His fist is inside, past Heaven’s Gate, and now he’s cleared for fist-fucking. He still does that slight twisting motion as he slides his hand in and out of me, and slowly I get used to this previously unknown level of anal assault.
Nick is awestruck. “Holy fucking shit, man,” Nick says. “I cannot believe this faggot can take that beefy hand of yours. Never saw a pussy that loose in my life. What a fag.”
“Damn right, and he’s MY fag,” Master Rob says. “This is even more fun than I expected. His entire body is at my mercy, and I bet before long he’ll be loving it.”
I’m not exactly in agreement there. My ass is on fire, and as much as I treasure the feel of Master Rob’s strong hand inside of me, the pain is still there. But that wouldn’t stop Master Rob anyway, and crying about it would just bring on punishment. But the sweat is starting to stream down my face, which also helps disguise any tears. And yes, there are tears.
“Why don’t you go get a good look at his faggot face and enjoy seeing the reaction to this,” Master Rob said to Nick. At first, Nick is disappointed, because I know he’s enjoying the show almost as much as Master Rob is enjoying putting it on. But when he comes around and lifts my head up and sees the near-agony on my tear- and sweat-soaked face, his mood brightens quickly.
“Dude, you are brutalizing this pussyboy,” Nick said with the most enthusiasm he’s had all day. “The look on his face is hot as hell. You can read the pain. And you should see how much this bitch has been crying. Keep going!”
“Part of that crying is his subconscious realization that his submission is now complete, past the point of no return,” Master Rob says. What? I’ve craved submitting fully to him. Haven’t I shown him that? “You see, somewhere deep down inside, a faggot is still ad adult male human. And somewhere inside he still thinks like one. You have to keep pushing the limits until that is gone.
“You ever hear of cunting a faggot? It’s when the rape is so thorough, so complete, so dominating that it emasculates a fag for good. After being cunted, a fag realizes his ass is his sex organ and means of pleasure, and his desire to penetrate anyone else is buried forever. Even submissive fags need to be truly cunted before they can be owned for real. Their dick becomes useless, and they crave dick in their ass more than ever because it’s the only way they can have pleasure.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Nick said. “I just want to get off on using a fag.”
“That’s fine,” Master Rob said. “There are few rules when it comes to Alphas using fags, and there’s no need for you to get too deep about it, no pun intended. You just enjoy the results of my work.”
I can’t believe I’m learning more about Master Rob today than I have in the months he’s been using me, slowly moving toward ownership. But I definitely remember the night what he calls cunting happened, and it was spiritual. It truly was. The next day, Master Rob showed me a website that explained the Alpha-Fag relationship in terms I had not considered. I just knew I wanted to serve superior men. Now I had a place in the universe. A low, insignificant place in which I was nothing more than a cumdump, a urinal, a spittoon and a servant, but a place nonetheless.
And right now that place is on the couch as Master Rob has done enough to start truly fucking me with his arm. I’m just about numb, and in my mind my eyes have that zombie look of a faggot at a gang bang who has lost count of how many men have breeded him. There is no me, there is just a body to be used.
Then Master Rob slides his hand out of my pussy. “Push out, fagboy,” he says, and I do. Then I feel the most amazing tingling sensation I’ve ever had.
To be continued …
