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Special thanks to Casey for his insight into the inner headspace of a faggot.
We drove the short distance from the gym to my place. I parked in the garage and Kevin parked in the street. We met up at the door. I ushered him in and marched him right to the bedroom. Once there, I manhandled him into the dressing area and then roughly slid my oversized hand down the back of his pants.
“Yes, please Sir,” he moaned as I squeezed his rump.
I noticed he had tent-poled, well, as much as he could in the cage. A respectable wet spot was appearing. I tapped his cunt a bit and could feel the slick that was his used crack. A bit of jizz had leaked into the space between his cheeks and down his onto his taint and the back of his sack. Soon his cunt would be thoroughly wet and slippery again.
I pushed him down on his knees and grabbed the chair from the corner, never breaking eye contact.
“Take off my shoes faggot.”
“Yes, of course, sir. I…yes,” he huskily replied. By now I could see he was totally in heat. His pupils were dilated, and he was panting like a dog about to get his treat. He untied the laces and then carefully decanted each of my feet from their musky leather prisons. I leaned back in the chair and stretched out.
“So, faggot…how you feeling?” I asked as I flexed my feet and toes. He stared at them for just a bit too long. The only sound was him sucking in air. He looked up at me.
“It’s ok faggot, I know you want them. It’s funny, we’ve spent so much time on the higher level items that we seem to have forgone your love of feet.”
“Oh, sir. I…. it’s just… it’s embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing? Faggot, embrace who you are. Don’t be ashamed. Especially now. I mean, look how you were just used in the sauna of a public gym.”
He shuddered. “I know. I…god…I can’t believe that you did me like that.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I did. And you loved every second.” I sat and looked at him thoughtfully. "So, you must be tired. It’s late and I’m sure you want to sleep.”
He pitifully groaned then stammered. “I…I still have not gotten off.”
“Oh, I see…and all that activity….”
“…Just made it worse, sir. I’m raging. My cage is so tight.” He whined, his voice sounding like a teenager who needed to get laid.
“Well faggot, I think I should make something clear. You only cum when I say. And if you want to cum sooner than I say, well, there’s a price to pay.”
“A…a price sir?”
I could hear a combination of terror and excitement in his tone of voice. Fear of what was going to happen coupled with his urgent need to do whatever it took to pop his load. That sweet spot for an Alpha where you know your fag is hooked but will still have just enough resistance to make reeling him in fun. “A price. Tell me, how would you like to get off? My dick in your ass? My dick in your throat? How do you see this happening.”
“I, well, honestly sir, my ass is just so full of cum still. More than anything, I’d like to take another load in my throat, sir. I could jerk off at the same time…you’d not have to do anything.”
I could hear the relief in his voice. He relaxed slightly. Now came the fun part of the head fuck. He thought he was home free but the twist was about to descend. “OK…well, you don’t just get that for nothing faggot. You need to work up to it. Tell me faggot. How much would you give me to service my right foot?”
“Give you?” That nice smell of fear had returned.
“Faggot!” I stood up, and walked around him. I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “Oh fuck!” he exclaimed as he shuddered. I knew in that moment that I had him. I had a whole new level to debase him to.
“I know you’re playing coy with me.”
“Shit…sir…please….I….oh god….oh god….”
That’s right fag, let’s make this fun. A slight pull on the line “Heh, did I hit a nerve there?” I casually asked as if I cared.
“Sir, this…I was hoping…I mean…” he sputtered as he felt my grip around him tighten. He could feel what was coming. It was as if I was inserting my cock directly into his brain…to fuck him mentally.
“Well, well…tell me faggot. Has this been a problem for you in the past? Cuz I’m feeling like you really want to………Tribute?”
“Tribute…Shit…I…shit…I don’t want…but…I mean, I do….”
And there is, it was “but”…yep he was going down. I yanked on him his brain a little. “Shut the fuck up, faggot.” I opened the wallet to find it flush with bills, 10s, 20s, 50’s, and a couple of 100s. I took out a $10 bill, closed the wallet, and put it down on the table. I stared at the faggot while I fingered the bill.
“I’m going to put this over here…in my drawer.”
“Oh, shit…shit…I…oh FUCK….” My faggot was trembling with excitement, his brain shorting out as he repeated himself. I could see it. Coursing through him. Just when I thought this guy could not be any more turned on, he went higher….or was it lower? I guess it depends on how you measure, right guys? I could see in the way he watched me finger the money, the way he watched me casually put it in the drawer, the way I sat back upright in the chair. I was dominating him again, when he thought he could not be more owned.
I leaned back again….and held out my foot.
“Oh, sir, fuck, yes…”, he lunged forward and began worshipping my sweaty foot, bathing it with his tongue and lips, getting into every crack and crevice. Mumbling to himself as he did so, “Sfffo hofff….mmmmmpfff…yefffff….” I watched as he looked up from time to time, looking at me, looking at the drawer, looking down at his situation. He was fucked. He kept on it, licking and drooling and slathering.
After 5ish minutes, I pulled my foot back. I reached over and opened the wallet. His whole body was trembling with excitement, his eyes wide, his cock undoubtedly throbbing in its little plastic prison.
“Oh…fuck….FUCK….” He continued to wimper.
I pulled a $20 out. He watched intently…clearly feeling inside the ultimate in faggery. Having his money, his hard-earned cash, taken from him by me, by his Alpha male. I fingered it again and then put it with the other in the top drawer. I closed the drawer slowly and turned back again.
He was beside himself now. He was making noises but nothing intelligible. His fag head was on overload. I extended my other foot slowly and again he pounced, coating it with spit and fondling it with his hands and tongue and lips as he quietly moaned a small tiny whine. Like a puppy with his first toy, he was whimpering and drooling like the pathetic faggot he was.
After another 5 minutes, I pulled my foot back again. He looked dejected and cold…like a drug addict whose fix had been taken away.
“I picked up the wallet again. “Tell me…how much fun did you have tonight faggot?
“Sir, I…it was…it was the experience of a lifetime. I never thought… The intensity. The heat. And…I knew I was safe with you there. I knew that I was in danger, but also not in danger. I was under your wing, not just your thumb. I knew you‘d not let anything happen, not to me but to……your property.” He babbled. The front of his pants was showing a large wet spot and I could see the faint outline of his precum bubbles appearing on the surface of his pants. This fag was leaking hard.
“Good faggot.” I smiled. “We’ll have to settle up for that another day…but for now…”. I pulled the wallet open a third time and fingered the bills. Then I pulled a $50 out. He freaked and squirmed a bit and I watched as he grabbed his ass. Looking around, not in fear or panic, but in excitement. Those two loads of cum sloshing in his ass…they were starting to leak. As he kneeled, I could see the tension in him. His cum filled ass, his position of servitude, his caged clit, me towering over him and now being cash fagged. It was all too much such a huge turn-on and, at the same time, conflicted with everything he had been brought up to believe.
He watched intently as I fingered the bill.
“Fuck, sir…that…you’re…you’re draining me… ” he groaned yet, a thrill in his voice as he continued sucking in air.
I noticed the look in his eyes. The way they were darting around my body, the room, the drawer. He loved it.
“Yeah faggot, I am. It seems you know the terminology. How does that feel pussy-boy? It certainly looks like you’re getting off on me controlling you, controlling your book.” I took the bill and scraped it across my scruff real slowly. My eyes bored into him. He was so fucking jazzed. Kneeling there, my handsome mug looked down, holding his cash, scraping it along the scruff of my jaw. I turned, opened the drawer for a third time, and added the bill to the others. I turned back, stood up, and reached into my pocket. I continued to watch him, there at my feet, and slowly took out my keys. I sat down.
He watched, suddenly realizing that the key to his cage was on my keychain. My real, everyday keychain. Not hidden in some drawer, it was there at the ready and on display for everyone to see. The one brass key on a chain of silver ones. A beacon. Nobody would see it as anything more than a key, but its presence hit the faggot to the core of his being. This was real, this was being owned, this was his dream.
“Ohhhhh…its on your….fuck…its on your keychain…anybody, everybody…oh FUCK….”
I chuckled and fingered them a bit longer than would be necessary. I’m sure at that moment the chain looked like a trophy case. All things of value had a key and now the faggot knew that he was on that chain too. I watched as his ego slightly inflated. Calmly, I looked back at him. “Take off your clothes faggot.”
“Yes sir,” he said, jumping up off the floor and stripping to nothing.
“Step forward,” I said and reached out to grab his wet cage, the cock inside, and his balls. His balls were full, very full. I squeezed them…first gently, but then harder. He just took it with a grunt. My other hand went out to unlock the snug, constricting cage. I pulled it free.
“Knees faggot, now,” I ordered and he immediately fell to his knees before me. I looked down at my crotch, spread my knees a bit wider, and grabbed my stiff bone inside my tight jeans. My hand slid back and forth over the long, hard tube outlined inside.
“See something you like faggot?”
“Sir, yes, yes I do.” He breathlessly replied.
“And how does your clit feel? Better?”
“Oh, sir, yes…my faggot clit…much better….”
“Good. Now, faggot. You’d like another load in your throat, is that right?”
“Oh sir, yes, please…I….I’m so horny and full of cum and I just….” He stopped.
I stared at him a moment.
“Sir, I know my place though. This is so confusing. On the one hand, I’m so excited all the time. Not cumming has brought me a new level of sexual arousal and excitement and I love being under your control. But…at the same time…I’m just ready to burst. I will do whatever you say, sir. You know that.”
I smiled a toothy grin at my little queer pussy.
I reached over toward the wallet again.
“Oh, oh…fuck sir…please…yes, I….” He begged excitedly, suddenly realizing that it was on. That I was going to allow him to get his nut. He reached for the wallet but I got to it first and smacked his arm away. I looked it over again, opening it and then closing it and generally inspecting it, fondling it, letting my fingers trace the stitching as if I was running them over his body. Real slow, then I glared at this fucked up little loser and leaned into him close—my face was just inches from his. He could feel my hot breath on his face as I hovered there…so close…I just held it there for a few moments. Then I pulled back a little, “Make good choices, faggot.” I passed him his wallet.
‘No…I…ohhhhh…I’m going to…I’m really going to….,’ he stopped short, whimpered even as he opened it himself. He struggled, clearly caught in a dilemma between propriety and sexual desire, sexual fetish, sexual heat.
He fingered the bills, trembling with excitement. First, his fingers went to the remaining $50. He looked up from the wallet and into my eyes. I shook my head slightly from side to side.
“Please Sir, I…yes, of course…” he whimpered and looked down as his trembling fingers moved on toward the $100. I could see his erection waving. More precum oozed from it’s slit.
Again he raised his eyes, almost pleadingly yet still showing he was in fag heaven. It was so satisfying, watching the sexual charge go higher, as he slowly tributed me.
I raised my left eyebrow slowly. He stopped again, conflicted but wanting so badly to please me. Finally, he moved his finger over to hold both $100s. I smiled a sly smile, and he slowly removed the bills as my eyes bore into him.
“I’m such a loser,” he moaned, “but….I can’t help….myself. I’m so…so…excited…” he bowed his head, “for you.…” He passed me the two bills, his face red with embarrassment but his cock angry red, swollen, drooling like a faucet onto the rug while bouncing up and down. I waited and watched him. He had been nicely reeling. I knew that he had cash fagged before, but not like this—not to such an extreme. The intensity of the scene, the intimacy of me being so close, my muscled body so taught, my face right in his…he’d never experienced something like this.
But if he had done it, he had not done it in a while. Now that his cash fag cherry was re-popped, he would be more compliant doing it again. Just like he’d be more open to cleaning a kitchen or getting railed in public by a stranger. Still, the thrill of that first cash fuck with me was something to savor. Something for him to play over and over in his mind. He’d never forget this and it would never not give him a raging bone on the replay in his mind. The money was unimportant, it was the act that wasn’t just pressing his fag button, it was punching it…hard.
‘Sir,” he lightly mumbled. It was said almost dreamily as if to say how happy he was that I was before him.
But even more, what I could see was his excitement, his lust, but also his admiration…and…happiness. Lost in the overpowering stimulation of this new level of humiliation, his mind was losing control. He was ruled by his cock now. That and his deepest desires were calling all the shots now, forcing his thinking brain back into the closet so that they could have freedom. After a few seconds, I sat back upright. I fingered the bills as I watched him and then turned. I slowly opened the drawer and put the two bills inside with the rest.
Then I turned back to him. Looking up, I raised my arms, stretching my upper body—my pits wide open, pecs bursting—thick and heavy, my abs casually flexed. After a few seconds, I looked down into his eyes. “Undo my pants……"
His eyes lit up at the prospect. Slowly, tentatively he reached out, touching the outline of my dick. The only sound was his heavy breathing. At one point he leaned his head in and gently nuzzled his face against my denim-clad erection. I could hear him faintly moan as he took in a deep sniff of my crotch’s scent—feeling so at home with his head, his face, in my lap, my crotch. Safe in some respect, but just millimeters from the danger of my big gun.
“That’s right fill your lungs, baby boy,”, I softly whispered as he pressed his face further into my crotch. My hand came around to the back and pushed him in deeper.
His hands reached up and around me, awkwardly hugging my waist. After a minute of sniffing, hugging, and snuggling, he retreated slightly and gingerly undid my belt, even as his face continued nuzzling against my bone.
“That’s it, baby,” I softly whispered, encouraging him. “Breathe me in…mark yourself with my scent.”
He moved his face slightly away and looked up at me. His eyes were completely unfocused, now set temporarily to the depth of field of the task before him. His hands undid my zipper and he began to pull down my pants. I lifted up and he slid them down and pulled them from my feet. Putting them to the side, he returned, inspecting my hard cock as it wrapped horizontally along my cum gutter and then back around my hip, trapped within the confines of my jockeys. After another deep sniff, he’d taken an even more concentrated dose of my pheromones into his nose and lungs. He was imprinting hard and in way over his head. As he gently lowered them, my cock became caught in the elastic, eventually, with a tug, it sprung free, slapping his face hard. When it did an almost animalistic grone of desire came from him. He kneeled there, mesmerized by a cock that he already knew better than the back of his hand.
I leaned over sideways and looked down to see that his cock had continued to dribble out more pre-cum. It hung from his slit down to the floor looking like a glittering pearl chain to form a little puddle at his knees. I could also see that his quads had improved in size and definition and his abs had the definite beginning of a 6 pack.
I sat back up. “Ok, faggot, gonna show you this again. You don’t cum until I say so, understood?”
He nodded vigorously.
“You stay right on the edge for me. On. The. Edge.”
He nodded.
I pulled his head forward and as he opened his mouth my bone slid right into him, like my key into his cage lock just minutes early, the fit was perfect. He was truly a pro now at taking my cock and slurping it directly into his throat, his slime factory already at full tilt. After a minute I allowed him to come up and off.
“Spit faggot”.
“Thank you sir” he replied as he coughed up some of his throat slime to stroke off his cock. Then I pushed him back down onto my tool. His lips perfectly sealed around the shaft, tongue swirling around its girth as it slid back to its home in his throat. I pushed deeper and his eyes popped a bit as he whimpered, his right hand sliding up and down his own stiff dick.
“Ats it faggot, finally getting yours. Hold off for me though…not just yet.” I whispered, keeping him focused on not cumming even while his hand was making his cock go crazy with pleasure. He whimpered and shuddered his way up and down both shafts now, as if in unison, keeping the strokes perfectly timed. My cock, already drained once, was rapidly building up a buzz…and my balls were coordinating an equivalent load of jizz.
“God faggot, you’ve really gotten good at this. Guess it feels like second nature to you now, my cock sliding into your throat. Have you ever had even close to this much cock in you faggot?”
He shook his head sideways. My dirty chatter was pressing into his overloaded system and pushing him down even more.
“Yeah, stroke that little clit for me faggot. Polish it well. Stay right there…oh yeah…right there…I can see it…” He was looking up at me, locked on. “I can see you on the edge…right faggot?”
He shook his head up and down, but gently so his teeth would not impact my cock. Up and down he slid. I leaned over gently again to get a look at his hand which was a blur of action. Up and down on his own cock the same way he had done to me. If he didn’t have his hands around my balls I’m sure they’d be around his, gently tugging. By now I was ready. My balls were churning from an intense day of sex.
I sat back up. “Faster faggot…faster…edge…closer…that’s it you fucking pussy. Get down on my cock…all the way…tug…tug…tug harder…shit faggot, you gonna make me shoot…and as soon as you feel me unload you go too….understood.”
He shook his head frantically now, like a spastic pile of muscle, his cock and dirty faggot sex drive had taken complete control…he was at the breaking point.
“Fuck faggot…FFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKK….UNGHHHHH….” I bellowed as I let out another huge load of my spooge. Shooting like a hose into his throat and mouth as he worked my stick. He suddenly seized up and squealed like a pig…I leaned over and watched as his faggot pricklet started pulsing and spraying the floor with cum. Again and again and again, his huge weeks-long load dumped hard. He kept on it, milking us both until we were dry… slowing to a crawl…finally, he rolled back and pulled his mouth off my cock.
“Good job faggot.” I said through heavy breathing. He was still huffing hard himself, but then rolled off his knees and onto his side…just like he had after his fuck. He was spent. I got up and went and showered. On my return, he was already cleaning up the rug that he had shot onto.
“I’m sorry sir. I’ll have this professionally cleaned tomorrow. I should have put a towel down or something. I was not thinking clearly.
“No, you were not faggot. But that’s ok.”
I walked passed him to the back closet and slid the mirrored door over to one side. He looked over to see a narrow mattress, pillow, and blanket on the floor inside.
“This is where a faggot sleeps. After you shower, make yourself at home. I’ll expect breakfast at 7:30.”
He looked at me, and his jaw dropped. He’d just cum but this new offering, a bed in a closet, hit his faggot kink so hard he’d done a double take…and I could see he was horned again already.
I glared at him, turned, and walked back to the bedroom and went to sleep.