Submissive Girlfriend

Have to link to my new blog, hope I don't have any more issues. I'm tired of having to reupload everything...

still I am going to try and post once a day to get my work back out there.

This story is completely fictional, is for 18+, and includes fetish and kink material, such as fart sniffing, ass worship, master/slave play, and manly musk. If any of this is an issue with you, do NOT continue. Otherwise, enjoy!

This is an old story that I wrote, inspired by a similar fetish one I read years ago. Again, I have to warn you guys; this is another gross look into my perverted mind, and if the idea of being forced to sniff farts grosses you out, don’t read this filth! But if this filth excites you, then do continue, my fellow stink pig.

...

~3.4 words

Guy makes a new friend at the gym and invites him to go camping. But this friend has his own agenda...

...

It was three in the afternoon; I sat in my grey seat at my grey desk under grey fluorescent lighting. I was tapping my pen against my grey desk. I even wore a grey shirt. But I was smiling.

It was the first Friday of May, and after 5 o’clock my vacation would begin. Every year I get 10 vacation days, and I make sure to save them up so I can use them all in spring. There’s a campsite I like to go to; no wifi, no neighbors, no stupid coworkers, no annoying parents, just me in the forest. I was staring at the clock at the corner of the screen. It took forever for the numbers to roll by.

Never mind, it won’t be just me this year. I have to bring Cliff along. I ran into Cliff one morning at the gym; he asked me to spot him while he did his bench presses. I didn’t like going to the gym, I’m the kind of guy who only goes so he could get away with eating junk food. But Cliff was one of those guys who lived at the gym. He was taller than me, and bigger than me; all muscle. He looked like the kind of guy who could squeeze your head just by flexing against you. He had short brown hair, stubble, and of course a much better body than I could ever dream of having. But for some reason, he started chatting with me a few weeks ago, and we accidentally became gym partners. He’s even been helping me bulk up a bit. I’m still kind of a wimp, but now I’m toned and can look in the mirror, easily imagining myself walking up to the hot girl at the bar.

But when I told him I was going away camping for two weeks, he insisted on coming along. Cliff’s a cool guy, don’t get me wrong, but these camping trips were always my thing; my alone time. I tried to be nice and talk him out of it, but he invited himself to come along anyway. Once he set his mind on something, it was happening, I’d slowly begin to learn. But he seems like a cool guy, and he’s great to hang out and work out with, so I didn’t want to hurt his feelings [Mom did say I’m too soft for my own good]. Sure, camping’s my thing, but maybe it’ll be fun to have a friend tag along. To dudes just hanging out, drinking beers, fishing…it’ll be fun.

…

I’d been driving upstate for an hour, Cliff was in the passenger seat. I could smell his pits’ BO from all the way over here. And I’m sure that I caught a faint whiff of his ball funk. After keeping my mouth shut for so long, and gagging though the past hour, I had to say something. “No offence, but man, you reek!”

“Today was my day off,” He shrugged, “So I spent more time working out.”

I grimaced, “You didn’t shower dude?”

“Haha, no, sorry” He lifted his arm and sniffed his pit, “Pew! Didn’t know I stunk this bad! I’ll haveta wash off in the lake.”

“Yeah, you fucking better,” I laughed. Today was his day off…? And he was taking the next two weeks off? “What do you do, exactly?” I realized I’d never asked.

I glanced over and saw a sly smirk across his face, “Specialty services.”

I guess he was just a private guy; keep things to himself. Maybe we’ll open up a bit to each other during these next two weeks.

He rustled open his backpack, “Mind if I eat in the car? I didn’t grab lunch.”

“No problem, I could stop somewhere for dinner,” I looked around, “There might be an oasis or something I could go to the drive through.”

“That’s alright,” He pulled out a sandwich, “I got food.” He opened the bag and the queasy smell of eggs hit me.

“Ugh, what is that?!” I coughed.

“Egg salad.” He laughed, “Tastes great, it’s good for me. But it gives me the worst gas.” He kept laughing.

“Gross,” I laughed too, but he seemed to be cackling, and for longer than I could fake it. Laughing this hard at a fart joke? How old is this guy?

“Sorry dude, hope you don’t mind I’ll be pretty gassy later.”

“We’ve each got our own tents.” My smile faded a bit. I hoped he wouldn’t be this annoying when we got to the camp.

It was getting late, and I saw a gas station marked up ahead.

“Hey, speaking of gas, I need to fill the tank real quick.” I got off the highway and pulled into the station. The place seemed empty. I pulled up to a pump near the street so I could get back on the road quickly. I got out the car and walked over to the pump. I saw Cliff was looking for something in his bag. He lowered the window, “Hey dude, do you mind picking up a dozen fiber one bars? I’ll pay you back.”

I shrugged, “Sure.” I walked across the lot and into the station, grabbed the bars, paid the cashier, and walked back out. I got to the car and opened the door to push the gas cap lever, but Cliff wasn’t in his seat.

I stood up and looked around, but couldn’t see him. Did he go to the bathroom? “Cliff?” I called out.

Everything went black. I felt some kind of sheet go over my head and torso. Before I could react, I was pushed forward against the car and I hit my head hard. The pain shot through my skull and I lost my train of thought. I felt my arms get tied behind my back. My survival instincts kicked in and I started thrashing, but then I felt a swift kick against the back of my knee. The pain was so great my leg collapsed under me. Before I hit the ground, I felt a sharp pinch in my neck, like a bug bite. Then I felt my limbs go limp. I was picked up and dragged. My head was hurting like crazy, and I couldn’t move my arms, and I felt myself being stuffed into the trunk of my car. I was getting dizzy. Oh fuck, what’s happening to me?!

…

“Wakey wakey, faggot!” I heard Cliff’s voice spit down at me. I opened my eyes, which felt as dry as my throat. Cliff?! What the fuck was going on? I couldn’t speak, and I realized I couldn’t move. My arms were bound behind me, and my legs were also tied up. I couldn’t turn my head to see where I was.

“What the FUCK is going on?!” My voice cracked.

His nostrils were flaring and he brought his arm up in a fist. I winced and let out a small moan. He started laughing with an evil grin.

“P-Please,” I was ashamed to cry but I couldn’t help myself, “Please don’t hurt me!”

He stood up. From this angle, he looked like a giant. And I noticed that he only wore his muscle shirt from earlier. Otherwise, he was naked: no pants, no underwear, just his large cock and balls hanging freely in my line of vision. In his hand he held a dirty sock and a roll of duck tape.

“I know you want this cock real bad,” He grabbed it, “All the faggots do, but none of them get it. You don’t deserve to taste a real man’s meat.”

What the fuck is going on? I’m not even gay, what the fuck?!

Before I could say anything, I felt him give a quick stiff kick straight to my balls. I screamed out from the blinding pain, and while my mouth was open, he stuffed the sock into it. I started gagging on the taste; pure foot sweat, but I couldn’t spit it out before sticking a strip of tape on me. I could only breath through my nose.

“You can’t see yourself right now,” He had his hands on his hips, “but I’ve made a nice little set up for you. You’re tied down in my special recliner; your body’s sticking out under the front, and your face is just poking through the hole in the seat.”

What? I’m tied up in a chair? What the fuck is going on?! My head was spinning from the pain.

Then, he turned around. His giant ass was facing me, the top cut off by the bottom of his shirt. Like I said, he was a gym rat, and his butt cheeks were like two giant globes. They were covered in brown hair, which got thicker and thicker near the crack. I could smell his disgusting unwashed sweat from here…locker room ass…with a faint ball sweat lingering in the background.

It seemed to get bigger. My eyes widened; he was about to sit on my face! I was crying out; my voice muffled by the sock, but then his cheeks spread apart and I saw the thick jungle of ass crack hair that swirled around his puckered pink hole. He rested down on my face. Everything went dark.

The smell was abhorrent. Thick, hot, ass funk was all I could smell. And I felt him move around a bit until the tip of my nose was poking up the ring of his asshole. I was gagging, from the ass sweat that was sticky onto my face, from the taste of the old sock…I started to sweat from his body’s heat and the heat of this place. Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?!

“You wouldn’t believe how happy I was,” His voice boomed above me, “When I heard you were going camping near these parts. See, I come up here all the time.” He leaned back and somehow I felt my face dig deeper into his ass crack. I started screaming as loud as I could, even though my mouth was taped shut.

Then, he screamed, “SCREAM ALL YOU WANT, FAGGOT!!!” My heart jumped, he continued, his voice lowered a bit, “Because we are in the MIDDLE of NOWHERE!!! And NO ONE is going to look for you for the next TWO WEEKS!!!”

I felt tears come to my eyes again. The stench of his ass was burning my nose, and I could barely breath. There was no air down here; only ass fumes.

He continued, “Earlier, you asked me what I did for a living? This is what I do. Faggots pay to worship me. Some wanna lick my pits, some wanna drink my piss, some want me to step on them…fuck some just wanna serve me grapes. Like Julius Fucking Caesar. Think of all the faggots that wish they could serve a real man like me. Making them pay for these privileges is my way of helping out the community. But all of them, my favorite part, pay me to sit on their pathetic faces. I could tell you were one of them moment I saw you. I don’t care if you think you’re not a faggot, but you are. I can easily tell a faggot in denial. Don’t worry; I’m here to help you realize your true place in life. For the next two weeks, you’ll get to enjoy being stuffed nose first up my ass.”

This can’t be happening to me! This was too disgusting!! I tried to fight against my restraints, or at least move my face out of his ass crack, but I was completely trapped.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I heard him turn the TV on, “In my cabin, you’ll be spending all of your time in my ass. Think of it like…I’m the king, and you’re my throne. Sure, you think you hate it now, but I know for a fact that by the end of this week, you’ll be begging me to fart down your throat while you make out with my asshole. Begging me. All the faggots I find end up doing that.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This guy was a psychopath and a rapist. I didn’t care how much he hurt me; there was no way I would stoop so low that I would to something as humiliating as that.

“Speaking of farts; I get gassy a lot. And my farts smell god-awful. And I’m sick of smelling them. The only reason I even talk to faggots like you is because I know that your kind would give anything to smell them for me. So, that’s gonna your job this weekend: you are gonna sniff up every single fart I rip. And you better do a good job, because I do NOT wanna even get a hint of my own gas. Don’t make me warn you more than once, faggot.”

Without warning, he grunted and I felt his naked asshole press against the tip of my nose, and a giant eggy fart erupted out of it,

PPPPPPPPPPRPRPRPRRRRPRPRPRRRTRTRTRRT

It was the worst smell I’ve ever smelt in my life. It smelt like a carton of rotten eggs was stuffed up a dead skunk’s ass. It was so hot and thick in my nose. I was coughing and gagging and ready to throw up, trying to hold it down. God, I could die under here!

“what did I JUST say, faggot?” He yelled, “Sniff it! Sniff the whole thing!!!”

I was so afraid he’d crush my balls again, I did what he asked me. I sniffed up all of the fart. It took ten sniffs of the disgusting gas to breath it all in, and even then, the scent still lingered. I could barely breathe with my face smashed up in his ass crack.

“That’s better,” His voice was cheery, “My ass’ll be your new home. Every night, I’ll watch my shows while you suck up my farts. When I go to sleep, you’ll sleep with your face buried in my ass. I got a harness online to keep your face there, so you won’t roll over. I’ll wake you up in the mornings by letting out my morning farts. The pantry and fridge are full of egg salad and canned baked beans. My favorite foods. I’ll be ripping so much ass, you’re little fag nose won’t get enough of it.”

I heard his intestines grumble above me, and I started screaming again. This couldn’t be happening to me. This felt like a nightmare.

He ignored my screams, “After the first few days, I’ll have you lick all of the sweat off my ass cheeks and crack. This place doesn’t have a shower, so I’ll be using your tongue to clean me off. After that, I’ll let you kiss my ass cheeks and hole. Finally, during the last week, I’ll let you make out with my asshole. And I’ll be farting up your nose and down your throat. And by then, I’ll stop using toilet paper. Your tongue will be my new toilet paper. Because let’s face it; you’re useless when you aren’t snorting farts and cleaning my shitty asshole.”

I started crying again. This was pure insanity. I couldn’t even think clearly because of that last fart, and everything he was telling me was beyond belief. This guy’s been planning this evil torture for weeks…and there was no way I could call for help. I was going to be stuck in his ass…two weeks?!

“Here comes another one; get ready faggot” With another grunt, a giant fart exploded into my poor nose. I fought against the urge to get again, and this time I sniffed it up as quickly as I could. It burned my nostrils. I felt him shake with laughter above me,

“See? You’re getting the hang of it already! Fags are quick learners, after all.”

This was going to be the worst two weeks of my life. I wouldn’t stand for it. Once he let me go, I would go to the police and have him arrested. And the second I get the chance, I’ll fight him off and make a run for it. I don’t care that he’s bigger than me, I have ot try. I’ll sniff his farts for now, but I will NOT kiss his ass, I will NOT “make out” with his ass hole, I will NOT clean his disgusting ass with my tongue, and I will NEVER, NEVER beg for his farts!

…

One month later.

…

It was three in the afternoon; I sat in my grey seat at my grey desk under grey fluorescent lighting. I was tapping my pen against my grey desk. I even wore a grey shirt. But I was smiling.

It was Friday. The email gave me the address to go to at 10 pm that night.

After the office closed, I stopped into 7-11 to pick up an egg salad sandwich. Then I sat in my apartment, the TV on but I wasn’t watching it. My eyes were bouncing from the TV screen to the clock, wishing the hours would tick by faster.

I got to the apartment building at 10 pm. The email told me to wait outside the door of 307; no knocking, just wait.

I stood there, staring at my watch, tapping my toes. I was breathing heavily, licking my lips. My mouth was dry.

The door opened and a little blond faggot stepped out. He glanced at me, for a second, then immediately dropped his eyes to the floor. Sir Clifford was standing at the door, he said, “See you next week, Faggot Number 16” The blonde faggot walked down the hall in a rush, his head down.

“Egg salad! My favorite!” Sir Clifford took it from my hands. He gestured me to follow him into his apartment building. “Thanks Faggot Number 17.” My heart was beating fast and I smiled.

“I live to serve you, Sir Clifford.”

He smirked at me, his godlike figure standing next to the counter, “Why did you get me egg salad, Faggot Number 17?”

My voice was shaky, “Because it makes you fart, sir.”

“And why do you want me to fart?”

“Because it’s my job to sniff up all of your farts, sir” I could feel my faggot prick grow hard in my jeans, “And…I was hoping…you would,”

“Speak up, faggot.”

“…I was hoping you would let me make out with your asshole, sir.” I gulped. He stared down at me, a smirk growing on his face. I added, ‘P-Please Sir?”

Sir Clifford laughed at me. He took the sandwich out of the package and wolfed it down. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he said,

“Like I wrote in the email, our sessions cost $100. Show me you have that money, faggot.”

I pulled out five 20s from my pocket and held it out to him.

“Tell me exactly what you’re doing faggot.”

“I’m paying you to fart up my nose, and hopefully into my open mouth.”

He snatched the bills from my hand, “That’s what I like to hear,” His smile was beautiful.

He turned around and pulled his pants down, “I’m going to sit down and watch a movie, using you as a chair, but first I want you to thank my asshole for accepting you into my line of faggots.”

He spread his beautiful, god like ass cheeks apart, and his hole looked back at me. His globes were covered in manly hair. I imagined the scent, I imagined the sweat. I dropped to my knees and crawled over to him, stuffing my fag snout into his asshole. I kissed it, deeply, and said, “Thank you, Sir Clifford’s asshole, for letting me worship you. I know you don’t need me because you have 16 other faggots who kiss you and sniff your farts and clean you. I know I’m worthless and below you, but thank you for giving me the chance to worship you with the others. Please fart in my mouth, Sir Clifford’s asshole, it’s what I’ve been looking forward to all week!”

“Yes Sir….”

“And that’s when you came clean and confessed to him that You’d been giving me all your money for months and were totally fucked?”

“Yes Sir…”

“And then he broke up with you?”

“Yes… *sob* … Sir…”

“Hahaha! Now what?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m so in debt, Sir. I have to move back in with my parents but then I’ll have to quit my job because I won’t be able to get there.”

“Because I made you sell your car for my trip to the Caribbean, right?”

“Yes Sir….”

“Hilarious. Well, if you’re totally broke I guess this is goodbye, faggot. Leave the door unlocked on your way out. One of my rich Cash piggies is on his way over to clean, drink some piss and worship some alpha feet. All the things you’ll never have the privilege of doing again haha.”

“Please Sir….”

“Oh alright. How much do you have left in that bank account?”

“$27, Sir. It’s… literally all I have.”

“PayPal. Now. All of it.”

“Yes *sob* Sir…..”

It was no longer enough to bend and scrape to his orders, today he was teaching me that sniffing his asshole and massive beefy farts was a privilege for a little faggot cuck like me and privileges needed to be earned. Garrett prepped the camera and gave me a wide smile as I kneeled to begin licking his feet and sucking his toes clean, begging heartily for him to please allow me to sniff his farts tonight, that I had been a good girl and loved having him to rule over me now.

My wife laughed, shook her head and came to kiss him after a few minutes of my sobbing and slurping at Garrett’s ripe smelly feet. “Let Vicky have one of your farts Garrett, I think he’s earned it, don’t you? He’s been a good little sissy for us”

My little nub throbbed at her words and I shuddered internally, was Garrett requiring me to crave this nasty new debasement? Was it working? Another tear fell down my face and the salty moisture entered the corner of my mouth just as he lowered his muscular sweaty crack, pants already down around his feet and made himself comfortable on my face. I could feel his stomach rumble above me and the two lovers whispering, giggling and making out as the gas enveloped me. “To new beginnings…”

I gaped at my beautiful stepmother as she sat on the bed, her legs crossed, looking perfectly composed. Her eyes were steady as she looked at me, sternly.

“You aren’t saying anything,” she observed. “You must be trying to think of a way to resist me.”

I was indeed, just as she suspected. I was 18 years old, a college freshman, on my way to becoming the heir to my family’s business. My dad was a corporate owner and CEO. She had just married him a month ago, and now, as I stood there, my body was all abuzz with what she’d just told me: that starting at this moment, she was in complete control of me, that she was going to be setting rules for the house and I would be punished if I broke those rules. She said to start our new arrangement by surrendering to her for my first spanking.

“I am not a little boy,” I finally said. “I’m not getting spanked.”

She smiled slightly. “Yes, you are. What, do you think, will stop me from spanking you?”

“My dad for one,” I quickly spat. “He would never let you spank me.”

She smiled again and I followed the motion as she snapped her fingers. Seconds later the door opened and my dad walked in, blushing, not looking at me.

“Yes Ma’am,” he said. 

“I’m going to lower your pants and undies,” she told him, her eyes still on me. “And spank you in front of your son. He seems to not want to accept that I have all the authority now.”

My jaw dropped as a tear rolled out of my dad’s eyes. “Yes, Ma’am.”

My stepmother reached for his waistband and looked at me.

“You may as well strip naked,” she told me sternly. “After I spank him, you are definitely next.”

She dropped dad’s trousers, and I saw the CEO had his penis locked in a chastity cage! The woman laughed at my surprise.

“You’re getting one of those as well,” she told me. “But we’ll talk about that after your spanking.”

After losing a big bet with one of my work rivals, I find myself being publicly humiliated - the first part of paying off my bet. It is embarrassing and he even has arranged someone to film this humiliation.

Later I must pay off the second half of the bet - the private part of the bet. And that takes place in his hotel room.

Upon arriving, the first thing I notice is the rimming chair in the middle of the room. "Oh god" I think. "I know the bet said that the loser would be the other's sex slave for a night but never imagined I'd be sniffing and licking my rival's asshole!

He's quite smug. Orders me to my knees and bends forward. "Come put your face in my ass and have a good whiff!"

I do as I am told when unexpectedly, he releases a big, deep, smelly fart. "Don't move - just sniff. You'll get used to the smell of my ass before I'm finished with you."

"Now on your back with your head under the rimming chair." My head fits snuggly and my hands and feet are restrained so that I cannot move or resist.

He removes his trousers and underpants and deliberately lowers his ass to my face very slowly.

I spend the night sniffing and licking his asshole, drinking his piss, sucking his cock but finally morning has arrived and I have paid off my bet and think thank god that's over.

But as I am about to leave, he says, "Think it is over? I've videoed the whole thing. You will be my pig whenever I say, or you can expect this tape to be sent to your boss at work and to your family and friends.

Rockwell High: A New Era

Part 4: O'Briens relentless rage

"YEAH...take that fucking fart! A pathetic ass slut like you shouldn't even be considered a man!" Coach O'brien roars mightily, once again using another man as an ass cleaner and seat. This has been a regular occurrence over summer break. Since Carter left, he had no one that was scared of him. What was worse was that Carters betrayal before summer break, causing O'brien to lose the vice principle role to Mr Rankin, sent the demented coach into a spiral. With no one to take his frustrations out on and his frustrations and despise for others growing at the same time, O'brien began to use men his own age as a way to satisfy his moods. Sometimes, they were lucky and only got suffocated for a few hours. However, most of the helpless subs faced his relentless rage, resulting in farts, continuous smothering, breath play, and ass cleaning duties.

"How does Masters shitter taste seat?" The dom taunts. "Fucking delicious master!! May I have a fart?" Jason asks as he continues to lap his tongue at the dirty hole of O'brien. "An eager little thing aren't you...wrap those pathetic little lips around my fart hole and beg into it for its gifts!" O'brien demands. Jason follows the orders of his master and wraps his lips around the hair covered pucker. "Please....give...me...a....fart." Jason mouths into the toxic hole. In return, he receives a stream of hot gas into his mouth. It continues going for almost thirty seconds, never wavering in strength. "Lick around my rim....get it nice and clean if you want another fart from me!" O'brien orders once again. Jason starts to lick around the hole, getting hints of sticky residue every few licks. As the cleaning continues, so does the gas as it blasts on Jason's face during his cleaning duties. "Tongue deep in my hole now!" The words spur new life into the mindless middle aged fart slut. Jason's tongue slid right into the slick, slimy insides of his master. "Fuck....fuck... that chili is really great fuel!" Obrien moans as his rumbling earthquake like farts vibrate against Jason's tongue and into his mouth. The taste and pure smell were too much for even this consistent sub. "Nah ah slut... tongue back in Daddy's ass NOW!! If you don't swallow all my second hand calories then I will send the pics of your face happily in my ass to your loving wife. I doubt you've told her where you've been all summer, right? What's it been now? 16, 17 sessions in a month? And you still kiss her?" O'brien says, blackmailing his sub back into tongueing his gassy ass.

Her heart sank as she knelt down at the feet of the young princess and began to worship them. "I'm sorry, I just want my daughter to be happy at school. Please, don't take it out on her, I'll do whatever you want."

The young bratty bully chuckled "Oh, don't worry about your daughter. I just enjoy seeing you grovel at my feet. It's a nice change from the last time i saw you when you were trying to scold me."

You hated the idea. You complained to your husband, assuming he’d agree it was a ridiculous idea. To your surprise, your husband quietly explained that it is the right thing for you to do and you should comply. You thought he had to be joking, but he wasn’t.

The next day, the three of you went to the beach. She looked perfect and had her barely there bikini under her clothes. You carried her beach bag, towel, and their picnic basket while she walked arm in arm with your husband.

As soon as you got situated and relaxed on your towel, she crouched down right before you, baring her perfect as to you, wiggling it.

The whole of today, Master have been out enjoying himself with his Straight buddies, leaving the slave parched and desperate for water. When Master returns, the slave pathetically begged Master at his feet for the privilege to lick up his foot sweat.

Master allowed, and slipped his foot out of his Nike Airs. The slave stooped down enthusiastically to lick all the nasty slime off Master’s rank feet, knowing that that is all it is going to get that night to quench its thirst.

Today for example, I find myself crawling behind him as he’s just finished his morning fuck of my wife. Jennifer is singing in the shower and Shane is rattling off a list of chores for me to do, the cold floor hard on my knees but I never lose focus on Shane’s words.

He pauses mid sentence and lifts a leg and one finger in his tight boxer briefs. He looks over his shoulder to make sure I’m smiling up at him and hurrying to get in close. This is my signal to kiss his ass and brace myself for one of his “gifts” to me for him taking over my home, wife and me.

I close my eyes and press my lips to the sweaty fabric feeling his ass muscles tense, BRrrrrRRrAUuAaaPppp!!! He’s so crass, almost like a forever frat dude, but maybe that’s why Jessica likes him? The smell of old cabbage fills my lungs and I kiss and sniff, not wanting to face his wrath.

“Fuck that’s a good one! What do you say, faggot?!”

“Thank you Master Shane, you are my god and I am lucky to serve you. I love your manly farts!”

I hear my wife chuckle from the doorway behind me, her hair wrapped in a towel and her double D’s exposed to entice the new man of the house as she shakes her head and grins.

“You’re welcome, faggot, kiss my feet and go make us breakfast”.

Her account got banned and she's taking a break with her husband on an island

While I was chilling out on here messing with weak betas I was approached by this guy who told me my stunning friend prohibited him from attending his best friends funeral. His entire family is gone and he's stone broke and all alone... He's in his 30's desperate and suicidal.

The male chastity device has to be my favorite tool in the world. The amount of power and control it gives to the keyholder is astounding. It can reduce even the most defiant slaves into grovelling, desperate to please worms. 

It starts out somewhat annoying but bearable. But after a week or two the ‘fun’ aspect is almost entirely gone and it’s just pure, unfiltered frustration and desperation for release. And that’s when the real fun begins.

I’ve seen slaves go from not recognizing my superiority over them and refusing to call me Sir to licking clean a full ashtray at the snap of my finger 11 days later. To begging me to clean my Porsche’s rims with their own toothbrush. To offering me €2.500 to hump a table leg for 3 minutes. All of these cases were after my girlfriend, their Goddess, locked them up and handed me the keys.

Of course, this has nothing to do with devotion. I’m not about any of that silly stuff. I prefer ruling by fear. I enjoy seeing the hate in a slaves eyes when I tell him to lick the dogshit and gum from the bottom of my shoes. When I tell him to write me 1.000 useless lines that I’ll just rip up in front of his face and never read anyway. To go stand in the corner holding a coin to the wall for 10 hours right when he was planning on going to bed. 

I like seeing that hate turn into helplessness and pure defeat when I add another month to their chastity sentence the day before their long awaited release. I like staring them down as they gratefully lick the bottom of my shoes and thank me for keeping them locked up longer.

I currently hold 8 keys. That’s all of the slaves my girlfriend had initially locked up. And none of them wanted anything to do with another guy. Now I have 8 losers at my beck and call, ready to jump to every order at the snap of my finger. To exploit and drain mercilessly.