Houseboy

The only service he allows from you is acting has his personal taxi. He texts you about twice a week, when he doesn't feel like driving himself. Usually to or from the bar, a date, or the gym. Gym days are your favorite days, and he knows it. As expected, you open the door for him and place his gym bag in the backseat. He smirks at you when he sits down, knowing that his musk drives you crazy.

"You've been a good chauffeur these past few months, boy. As a reward, let's keep the windows up this time. You can bask in the stink of a Real Man our whole drive home."

After a long 15 minute drive, you were about ready to cum in your cage. Thankfully, you pulled into his driveway before that.

"I have a date tonight. I told her I'll send a car for her. Pick her up at 7pm sharp and bring her here."

"yes, Sir"

"Oh, and take that bag home with you. I expect it washed, folded, and returned when you drop her off tonight."

Every Sunday during football season I host a "Watch Party" at my apartment and invite all the men that live in the building.

In all honesty, I do have a large TV with the game on, lots of snacks and beer, and comfortable couches for the Men to relax and enjoy the game with their peers.

The real motivation to join the watch party though, is their gracious host on all fours and blindfolded in the bedroom.

Everyone comes to watch the game of course, if anything to validate the lie they tell their wives or girlfriends, and of course what Man doesn't enjoy a few hours of free beer and snacks?

But most find their way into the bedroom, sometimes just one at a time, sometimes a few or more. They all fuck away their frustrations into my willing holes, and then return to fraternize with their neighbors.

You let your roommate play with your dick once a month in exchange for him paying your half of the rent. The bitch has to keep it above the clothes though. If he starts paying for your bills and food too, then you can maybe start talking about full access.

Hello, Sir. My wife is insisting that I start sending you updates for her drop off like Im a doordash driver. So...... 😥

Part 1 of 2

I was away from my desk maybe ten minutes. Someone on site had a question. When I came back to my office my chair was occupied.

Young guy, handsome, on his phone. It took me a second.

He'd been in once before, maybe three years ago. Fresh out of university myself back then, still figuring out what I was doing here. His father - my boss - had brought him in briefly.

"Connor. Didn't know you were expected."

He glanced up, eyes back on the screen before I'd finished.

"I wasn't."

I picked up a few papers and moved to the small spare desk.

He stayed on his phone. I got back to work.

At some point I looked up and his feet were on the desk, right over the site plans. Still on his phone. He worked one trainer off with the heel of the other and it dropped onto the desk, knocked a pen holder over. He didn't look up. Second one came off slower and landed on top of the paperwork.

The smell from his socks started to fill the room.

Then he took his socks off. Toes peeling them down one at a time and dropping them on my desk.

His soles were pale, the heels a bit rougher than the rest. He spread his toes and went back to scrolling.

I went back to my papers.

The desk phone rang. I crossed back to answer it. Connor didn't move his feet. I reached around them.

It was his father.

"Connor there with you?"

"Yes, just arrived."

"Good. Show him round. Let him see how things are running. He'll be coming in more."

He hung up before I could answer.

I put the phone down. Connor was looking at me now. Still relaxed, still in my chair, feet still up.

"He wants me to show you around the site."

He looked out the window. Looked back at me.

"Later."

I nodded.

"My feet are killing me. Long drive."

All I thought about at that moment was that he was the boss's son and the boss had just told me to take care of him.

I put my hands around his left foot. He didn't react. Didn't look up, didn't say anything. Just let it happen. I worked my thumb along the arch and he exhaled once through his nose.

I kept going. Rubbing his soft sole and toes.

He then looked at me for the first time since he arrived, smirking.

"Faggot."

I pulled my hands back.

He pointed at his right foot.

"Still got the other one. Makes sense why my dad calls you that."

He got back to looking at his phone.

I didn't say anything. I put my hands back and worked his right foot while he scrolled. He didn't say anything else. Neither did I.

After a while he pushed my hands away with his foot.

"Enough. Put them back on."

I picked the socks up off the desk. Pulled the first one over his toes, pulled it up his ankles. Then the second. He watched me do it without expression.

I took his trainers and moved behind the desk and got on my knees. I set his first trainer on the floor in front of him and he pushed his foot in. I pressed the heel down and laced it. Then the other.

He stood up. Picked his phone off my desk.

Part 2 of 2

My door opened without being knocked.

I looked up from my desk to see Connor walking in. He closed the door behind him.

Since last time he'd only been in with his father, two visits, maybe three. Check-ins, quick walkarounds. He hadn't looked at me once.

"Connor. Is your dad coming?"

"No."

He just stood there. Hands in his pockets, eyes on me. Not aggressive. Just still.

"Please have a seat."

I gathered what I needed and moved aside, leaving him the desk.

He sat down.

"Would you like anything? Water, something to eat? You look tired."

He rotated the chair to face me.

"Long drive."

Same words as last time.

I still don't know how he knew. I'd done this before, with partners, people I'd chosen, situations I'd had some say in. Connor was nineteen, maybe twenty. He'd walked in and somehow already knew what I was.

I dropped to my knees right between his legs.

I could feel him looking down at me. I reached for his trainer to untie the lace.

He kicked my hand away.

He leaned forward and untied both himself, slowly, watching me the whole time. Pulled the tongue back. Dropped one shoe, then the other.

He pointed at them.

"Tell me how they smell."

I hadn't expected that. I reached for the nearest one and he shook his head.

"Keep it down."

I set it on the floor and bent forward, nose at the opening. The smell hit me immediately. Warm, worn, moist.

I came back up.

"Warm. A bit moist. Good."

He smirked.

He lifted one foot and held it above my face, sock still on. Just held it there.

I pressed my nose up into the sole and inhaled.

"Same smell here."

He peeled both socks off and rested his foot on my face and waited.

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his sole. Then my tongue. I ran it slowly from the heel up, the skin was warm, slightly rough at the heel, smoother toward the arch. I could taste the salt. I went back to the heel and did it again, slower.

He said nothing.

I worked up the arch. Pressed my tongue flat against it and held it there. I kept going, up toward the ball of his foot, the base of his toes. I took my time there, ran my tongue along each one, between them.

I moved to his toes properly. Took the big one into my mouth, then the others one at a time.

He switched feet without a word. Just pulled one back and set the other in front of me.

I started at the heel again.

This sole was softer. Same smell, same salt. I ran my tongue up slowly, took my time at the arch.

"My dad would find this funny, faggot."

I didn't say anything. I kept going. Toes again, between each one, slow. I could feel his eyes on the top of my head.

I don't know how long I was down there.

At some point I put my hands around his soles to rub them.

He pulled his foot back and kicked me, knocking me onto my back.

He put his socks and shoes on. Stood up. Picked his phone off the desk. Didn't look at me.

The door opened and closed.

A submissive slave's duty is not to compete with strong Men.

It is not to make yourself the center of attention or turn yourself into another source of stress in a hardworking Man’s life.

Your duty is to understand what He carries every day and become a relief for Him.

A powerful Man spends his days handling pressure, responsibility, frustration, and constant demands without breaking because that is what masculine Alpha Men do. They stay composed, focused, and in control. But all that tension still builds inside Him somewhere.

That is where a good submissive becomes useful.

Sometimes your purpose is simply to kneel quietly, open your mouth, and help your Superior release the stress He has been forced to hold inside Himself all day long. Take His cock reverently into your mouth and keep reminding yourself that this is about Him. Feel the respect for His superiority growing deep inside and know what an honor it truly is that He has chosen you to relieve His stress. There is no room for ego or resistance. Don't make it about yourself...this is pure service.

And for the right submissive, there is peace in that simplicity.