As a faggot I had always yearned to dedicate my life to the service of Men and eagerly took advantage of the opportunity when He offered to add me to the stable of faggots He kept at His farm up north. At last I would be a 24/7 faggot focusing solely on fulfilling my purpose - to serve, worship, and obey Men.
When I arrived, He had me strip. I obeyed and watched nervously as He sized me up. He nodded His approval and said, “Welcome to the rest of your life faggot. You’ll be happy here. You’ll earn your keep, but I’m sure you’ll find your duties fulfilling.”
He paused to press a button on the wall; moments later, a young Man - a muscle cub - appeared at the door. “This here is Logan. He’s my stable manager” He explained and turning to address Logan, He added, “Do the normal intake, Logan. Test it and make sure it’s healthy. Then shave it and hose it down. We should also get it fitted for a chastity - this one’s hung so let’s go for a full nullifier nub cage. We’ll see how it tolerates that, and can always go for castration if the cage isn’t working. Anyway. Get it fed and get it settled in its stall. I’ll swing by tomorrow morning for inspection.
As I listened to Their conversation, my heart raced - thinking to myself, “this is really happening! At last!”
Logan led me away to a paddock and told me to kneel. I obeyed and watched as He drew blood from my arm. “You have any diseases I should know about, faggot?” he asked. I said I was HIV undetectable but otherwise clean. He nodded, “that’s alright, the Boss will decide if He wants to keep you on meds or not.”
Finished with the blood draw, Logan examined me closely - inspecting my mouth and teeth, examining every inch of my body, finishing with my fagcunt. He grunted His approval and then used clippers to shave my entire body.
After getting hosed down and fed, He took my to my stall - the place I would call home for the rest of my life. It was surprising large - 6x8 feet - with a bucket for a toilet and a hose for water. The floor was covered in fresh hay - it smelled like the countryside.
There were another 11 stalls in total, with 8 of them occupied by other faggots owned by the Boss. Logan told me to kneel and then explained the rules and daily routine.
“There are only a few major rules, faggot. First, you’re here to serve, worship, and obey the Boss or anyone the Boss tells you to serve, worship, and obey. Second, unless the Boss says otherwise, you are never to interact or communicate with other faggots stabled here. And third, you are never to speak unless spoken to. Basically, you are an object - the property of the Boss - and you’ll do whatever He commands you to do. Understood?”
I nodded my understanding.
“Good. Now, while the Boss enjoys using His faggots, this is a commercial stable and He expects His faggots to earn Him money. He breeds most of the faggots here for eventual sale to buyers from around the world.
As part of the breeding program He rents out His faggots on an hourly basis to Customers for them to use, abuse, and enjoy however They please. Some may just want to have Their feet worshipped, or need a warm, wet hole to breed. Others may be looking for a faggot to beat down and torture. We even have a few who like nothing more than to take a big steaming shit in a faggots mouth.”
He paused to take a sip from His mug, “Since you’re HIV positive, the Boss may decide add you to our specialist menu - some Men pay a premium to fuck and breed a Poz faggot like you. But we’ll see what He wants to do with you.”
He scratched His balls and continued, “Your days will be spent serving the Boss and His Customers, and when you’re not doing that, you’ll be training. It’s my responsibility to keep you at a minimum health and fitness. I’ll work you hard, but you’ll be doing it to please the Boss, so I’m sure you won’t want to disappoint Him.”
He then pointed across the stable to a large space filled with stocks and hosing, “You’ll be milked 3 times a week - you are not permitted to milk yourself. The Boss owns you - all of you - including your fagseed.”
He turned back to look at my kneeling, “Wake up is at 5am. Every morning you’ll be fed and groomed. You’ll be given two enemas every morning and another in the afternoon - the Boss likes a clean fagcunt. He performs daily inspection every morning at 8am. You’ll be fed before bedtime; lights out is at 10pm unless you’re serving the Boss or His customers.”
Scratching His head, He continued, “You’ll be branded tomorrow after the Boss does His inspection. You’ll be fitted with a chastity cage this afternoon. I strongly suggest that you don’t complain or mess around with it. There are 4 faggots in here that we call the Ken dolls - when the Boss says castration - it won’t just be your balls.”
He looked down at me and smiled, “don’t worry faggot, you’ll do just fine and you’ll end up loving it here.”
Logan walked away and I remained kneeling, thinking of the life I had to look forward to - a life of full-time servitude and complete submission to Men - and I couldn’t have been happier.
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