Date: Sun, 5 Dec 2010 08:51:47 -0800 (PST) From: Vincent Vincent Subject: Fagboy & Fagdad - Part 20 First, the disclaimers. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, Copyright 2010. The narrative that follows did not happen to me or to anyone else I know. The characters in the story, like myself, are all of legal age. Don't contact Me to meet these slaves. DO contact Me if you want to become one of these slaves. Also contact me with any praise, criticism, or suggestions. All feedback is good. And for the curious, the fratboys' reference to Delta Psi can be learned about in "frat-boys-bitch-boy", also under Nifty/Gay/Authoritarian. (http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/frat-boys-bitch-boy/) Fagboy & Fagdad - Part 20 The fagboy was exhausted from the cherry-busting fuck of his dreams. All he wanted to do was crawl into his cell and rest, floating off the high of his orgasm. But the fagboy knew nobody cared, nobody should care, what a fagboy wants. So he crawled into the Sirs' room, which was once his room not-so-long-ago. Back when he was Ryan, back when he had an identity. "So," Duncan snickered, "I don't have to ask if the fagboy got fucked. That's fucking obvious. But tell us, who just fucked you?" "Master did, Sir," the fagboy weakly replied. Mitchell laughed. "Dude, you owe me twenty bucks!" "Dammit," Duncan responded, "I thought for sure your fagdad would get it up, considering how horny he was when we screwed his ass the other night. I want a twenty dollar bill taken out of My wallet in the dresser. Give it to Mitchell." The fagboy obeyed, like all good fagboys do, handing the money to Mitchell. Mitchell didn't bother taking the cash. "I want the twenty put in -my- wallet back in the dresser." "Yes, Sir." Everybody knew this is what a fagboy does. Takes care of shit real Men don't want to bother with. Once finished, the fagboy knelt in the middle of the room between the two frat brothers, his Sirs. Sir Mitchell reached behind Himself and pulled out a key. "Alexi told us about how he wants to make the fagboy an insatiable cocksucker. So we have a key to the dickcage. Whenever you're servicing either of our cocks, the fagdick is free to get hard. So, you want to get hard, you'll just have to beg us to let you suck us off." The fagboy's slavedick wasn't able to get more than thick and tumescent during his orgasm, even as powerful as it was. It would feel so fucking good to be fully hard. "Please, Sirs, show a fagboy some mercy and let me suck You two off. Please?" Sir Duncan smiled cruelly. "Let `me' suck you two off? `Me?' Like you're a person or something? You'd think by now a fagboy would know better." "Please, Sir, please allow -it- the pleasure of sucking Your prick and eating Your cum. Please, Sir? It wants to taste Your dick so bad....." "Let's make this fucking clear. If I allow it to suck me off, that means any time either faggot talks to any of the three of us, it uses `it'. Faggots ain't people; they're just faggots. Does it agree?" "Oh God yes, Sir. It agrees. It understands. It's just a faggot. A thing to be used for Your pleasure, Sir. For any of Your pleasures, Sirs. All it wants, no, all it needs is to serve You." The fagboy was broken hard. "Please, Sirs, allow it that honor. Anything You want, Sirs." Sir Duncan smiled at Sir Mitchell. "OK. Then obey. Take my pillows off the bed here and arrange them nicely on the floor so I'll be comfortable sitting against them on the floor. I shouldn't have to adjust them in any way whatsoever." The fagboy quickly obeyed, pushing the pillows so that they'd support His back comfortably. Sir Duncan got up, pulled off His pants, and sat on the pillows. "The fagboy did a nice job." The bitch smiled. "Thank You, Sir." "Now, get the key to that cockcage from Mitchell." The fagboy crept up to Sir Mitchell, and held out his hands, wondering if he, if it, should beg for the key. Apparently not, because Sir Mitchell just placed it in its hands. Sir Duncan spoke again. "Now bring the key to me." The fagboy respectfully crept to Sir Duncan and put the key in His palm. It then knelt, head down, crotch pushed a little forward so Sir Duncan could unlock it if He so chose. "Now, using only that faggot tongue, pull my dick out of my boxers. Once it's out, don't suck it. Just put that homo tongue underneath it, just like when it presents itself to us, laying out its tongue as an invitation for our pricks." The fagboy whimpered and went to work, snaking its tongue into Sir Duncan's boxers, trying to fish out His thickening cock. Sir Mitchell looked down from His bed and chuckled. Finally the fagboy managed to wrap its tongue around His cock. The fagboy sucked against His flesh and pulled, freeing Sir Duncan's prick from the fly of His boxers. It then got on the floor between His legs and stuck out its tongue, laying it underneath His tumescent prick. It looked up at Sir Duncan and silently begged. "Mitchell, did you read the assignment on transcedentalism in literature? I've got a few questions about it." The two of Them talked shop, oblivious to the fagboy. It silently lay on the floor, nearly cross-eyed as it stared at Sir Duncan's engorged cock on its tongue, His dickhead poised at lips of its starving mouth. As their discussion slid from English to trig, Sir Duncan's dick pulsed softly and began to trickle out some piss. The fagboy softly slurped His pissload while the frat brother Sirs continued their exchange, completely ignoring it and adding to its humiliation. It deserved no comment; it would be like talking about how amazing it was that a toaster heated up. This is just what it was: a fagboy being used for what fagboys are used for. "So, Mitchell, you're sure that's how it works? Because I thought ... excuse me, Mitchell." Sir Duncan spat at the fagboy, "Suck. So, Mitchell, as I was saying, I thought that the value of the sine would indicate...." The fagboy sucked, again completely ignored by its Owners. Sir Duncan pulled it up, unlocked its prick, and pushed it back down to continue the sucking. All without pulling His focus away from Sir Mitchell's explanation of how the trig theorems will be useful once Sir Duncan takes calculus next year. As they started talking about their expected course loads next fall, Sir Mitchell pulled Himself off the bed, spit-lubed His cock, and pushed it against the fagboy's well-fucked hole. "Arrgh. Duncan, don't you think taking Advanced Lit...", Sir Mitchell grunted, "and Great Books at the same time will be too much reading for your other" ... grunt... "classes? I mean, sure, you can have a faggot take care of your homework, but you're" ... grunt ... "still going to have to know that shit." "Yeah, Mitchell, that makes sense. I guess I'll hold off on Great Books. Maybe I'll take that advanced Chem class." He slapped the fagboy across the top of its head. "Switch. Mitchell, what have you heard about Professor Atkins? How much of a hardass is he?" The fagboy wondered for a moment just what it was ordered to do. Then it lifted itself up and spun around, putting its lips up to Sir Mitchell's cock and spreading its buttcheeks to sit on Sir Duncan's prick. Its tongue tasted its ass on Sir Mitchell's cock, a combination of the remnants of Master's cum, fagdad's spit, and its own juices. It moaned from the flavor of raw sex. "So, yeah, Duncan, I wouldn't sweat Atkins. You'll do fine with him. By the way, did you hear about Delta Psi?" Fagboy was now impaling itself between both Sirs' cocks. Sliding up and down on Sir Duncan's dick while pushing its mouth back and forth on Sir Mitchell's meat. This was real exercise and it was grunting while working up a sweat. Its drooling fagdick would have been rock hard except for its deep exhaustion. The Sirs continued their discussion, completely oblivious to its effort. "No, Mitchell. Oh, wait, you mean that stupid rumor about their having an in-house bitch-boy? Come on, you think that's true?" Sir Duncan saw Sir Mitchell briefly raise an eyebrow while twitching His head down to Their own faggot. "Oh, yeah, I see. Huh. I'll have to talk to Bryce next time I see him. He'll give me the inside scoop. Shit, man, I'm getting close; how about you?" "Any time, buddy. Any time you're ready." The fagboy's head and ass were now held by the Fratboys, rocking him hard back and forth between the two of Them. Its prick was dripping like mad in celebration of its release. The fagboy pulsed its cock repeatedly as the rocking paced against its prostate. The fagboy's tongue got Sir Mitchell off first and it moaned as His salty load filled its mouth and throat. For a fagboy, this was the taste of God. As it let Sir Mitchell's cum slide down its throat, it felt Sir Duncan's speed and fervor increase as He emptied Himself inside its guts. Once the two had finished, Sir Mitchell slapped it hard across its face as Sir Duncan locked its fagdick back up. "Clean us up and get the fuck out of here." The fagboy sucked the cum off of both Their cocks, put Sir Duncan's pillows back on the bed, and took Their dirty clothes into the hamper, its cell, with it. It collapsed atop the fagdad's body, making sure dad's alarm was set to go off so he ... or was that now it? ... would get to work on time in the morning.