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Super Bowl Party (15)

When Master Rob asked Nick if he wanted a beer, what he was saying, of course, was, “Do you want my faggot to get you a beer?” Problem with that was Master Rob still had his hand up my cunt, and even an inexperienced fistee like me knows you don’t just yank it out. But Master Rob made no move to pull out of me.

“Sure, why not?” Nick said. “After all, we probably want to make more piss for him.”

“Good point,” Master Rob responded. “OK, pussyboy. You heard the man. Two beers. Now.”

I figured that meant I was on my own to get off of Master Rob’s arm, so I slowly started to move forward away from him. But he just pushed his hand in farther, confusing the hell out of me. 

“Hey Nick, go over and get his desk chair and wheel it over here for me, OK?” Master Rob asked. Nick got up and dragged the chair (my chair? Master Rob’s chair? Did it matter any more?) over to us. 

“OK, fagboy, you have to work with me. You need to spin your body around so you’re sitting up with my arm in your cunt. Then I am going to slide off of the sofa and into that chair, with my hand still inside you. Then you will walk toward the kitchen to get the beer while I follow along on the chair, keeping my hand inside you the entire time. Then we’ll come back here and see if we can get back on the sofa without losing contact. My arm belongs in your pussy, and I’m starting to like it up there. So make it work.”

Yikes. This would be awkward if we started with Master Ron in the chair, but getting to the chair from the sofa? One of us would have to be in a very uncomfortable position to make this happen, and obviously that was going to be me. 

First I start to lift my upper body off of the sofa, moving into a sitting position. This had the unintended effect of pushing Master Rob’s hand a bit deeper, and I swear I never felt my pussy open as wide as it was right then. Awkward, yes. Painful, yes. But one step closer to ultimate faggotry and pleasing Master Rob on a higher level, I was not going to fail.

By now I was quite used to an audience. I mean, every time anybody did anything with me all day there were four sets of eyes watching the show. But now, with just the two of them, it seemed particularly degrading to have Master Rob fisting me in front of Nick. The feeling that this was an audition, or more accurately an advertisement, returned, and once again I got a bit nervous thinking of Nick having unfettered access to my pussy — and anything else he wanted. 

Focus! I was losing focus. Master Rob had given me my orders, and I had to get in position so he could slide into that chair and wheel into the kitchen with his arm sticking out of what by now was a damn sore cunt. Master Rob’s right hand was inside me, so when I got upright I reached out for the chair and rolled it to my left. 

“Stand up slowly, faggot,” Master Rob said. As if there was any other way I was going to stand up with his beefy hand inside my pussy. (His pussy?) “Hold the chair so it doesn’t roll away. That could make this tougher.” 

Thankfully, Nick holds the chair, because if I tried to do it Master Rob would have to duck under my arms to sit on it while somehow keeping his hand inside me. Even half-drunk I could tell that wasn’t going to work. Eventually, Master Rob figured out that the best way to make this work was for us to stand up together and turn around so Nick could slide the chair under Master Rob. That worked out well, and somehow I forgot that this guy who had raped me just the day before, at Master Rob’s instruction no less, was now watching a faggot he just dumped a load into being pushed by his rectum toward the kitchen. A few months ago this would have seemed insane, but right now it was my life.

Master Rob used his feet to drag the chair along with me to his right. I walked very slowly, hoping he wouldn’t feel a need to really use his hand to drive. I had no idea how deep it could go and wasn’t sure I was ready to find out. Again, my complete trust in Master Rob as a wise man came into play. Master Rob would not cause me permanent injury. Master Rob knew he was lucky to have found such an eager and obedient faggot; he had told them that earlier today. My emotional roller coaster now had me puffed up with pride even as a superior man’s hand guided me by the pussy into the kitchen.

I got two beers out of the refrigerator and started to head back toward the living area. “This is so fucking hot,” Master Rob said. “We might have to start doing this more often. What do you think, fagboy?” “It is an honor to have you inside me, Sir,” was the best I could come up with. Enjoy was too strong a word, pleasure wasn’t quite right — although I had to admit it felt better than when he started — and I promised him when I swore my loyalty that I never, ever would lie to him. And it is an honor, so I left it at that.

If it’s possible for a walk back to the sofa with someone’s hand up your ass to be uneventful, it was uneventful, and I made it back in one piece. Master Rob slowly twisted his hand out of me and said, “Faggot Service Position.” So I dropped to my knees next to the sofa on Master Rob’s side and waited for what was to happen next.

“How’s that dick doing?” Master Rob asked his friend. “Just know you can have him do anything if I’m not using him.”

“Thanks, dude,” said Nick. “Funny how quickly you get used to having someone at your service.”

“And not just for your dick, either,” Master Rob responded. “There are times I’ll just lie down and watch TV and have him eat my ass. And I if know I’m going to rape that faghole I’ll have him lick me all over as foreplay. But my tits are really sensitive, so that’s almost too easy for him. But if it feels good, I’ll have him do it. It’s pretty awesome.”

“But you don’t want a relationship?” Nick asked. “I don’t feel right without a girlfriend, even though I know I can get laid whenever I want.”

“Oh hell no,” Master Rob said. “I know a lot of gay guys are going all domestic, two kids, dog, cat, white picket fence, the whole thing. But I’m an old-fashioned gay guy. And I’m pretty much a loner anyway. Besides, I’ve got the best of everything right now. If I want sex, I take it. If I need housework done, it gets done. Errands, same thing. Fuck, he’s not far away from paying my bills for me and handling my correspondence. I trust him, and he knows better than to screw me over anyway.

“And you can have it all, too. You want a girlfriend, fine. But if she’s not as horny as you, having a fag on the side gives you an outlet. Plus you can really pound away at a faggot the way you never would with a girlfriend. And if she isn’t any good at sucking dick — and from what I understand most of them aren’t, you’ve got great head on command. And for fucking, his ass is tighter than any bitch’s pussy and you know it. Sometimes you need to just go into rut, no-holds-barred, take-no-prisoners fag-raping. Save the making love for home.”

“You make it sound so obvious that everyone should be doing it,” Nick said with a chuckle.

“Pretty much,” Master Rob said. “Fag, how about working on my feet?”

“Yes, Sir,” I respond, happy to be put to use rather than just listening to them talk. Besides, if I’m worshipping his feet, my ass is getting a break, and right now it needs one more than it ever has. I take his big toe into my mouth first, slobbering all over it, then take as much of his foot as I can and fuck my face with it. Soon I’m down under, licking the sole, sometimes scraping my teeth along it because I know he loves that. 

“Fuck that feels good,” Master Rob said. “I’m going to get horny again fast this way.”

Uh-oh. But, oddly, I am saved by Nick. Don’t get me wrong, I want dick, dick and more dick, but my pussy is so sore at the moment between the quadruple-double-dicking and the fisting that I’m not sure I can survive another fucking any time soon.

“Can I get some of that?” Nick asks, and Master Rob, selfish with me but a very generous host, takes the foot that’s not in my mouth and nudges my face toward Nick. As I start to lick his foot from heel to toe, he almost jumps at the sensation.

“Fuck! I had no idea my feet could feel like this,” Nick said, getting a laugh out of Master Rob. I just keep doing what I’m doing, sometimes sucking on a toe, sometimes licking a foot all over, getting both big toes in my mouth and just doing what I can to show I am there to please. 

“Starting to get horny again?” Master Rob teases Nick, who then had one foot in my mouth and the other playing with my clit. 

“Fuck yeah!” answers Nick, and I glance up at his crotch and see his dick is not yet hard but definitely getting there. 

“How about we get back in bed and let the faggot give us pre-rape tongue baths?” Master Rob suggests. I get excited at that, as one of my favorite things in the world is to have a relaxed man enjoy my tongue all over his body. A fag’s buffet, if you will.

“Sounds good,” Nick says, giving my crotch a small kick. They both get up and lie on the bed, Master Rob on his back, Nick on his stomach. 

“Hey fagboy, bring in two more beers,” Master Rob says, but I anticipated that and already was crawling toward the kitchen. 

To be continued …

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