Sans titre

THE INHERITANCE

I was born in 1982. My birth mother died during childbirth and so my Father raised me, together with my older Brother, Logan, who was born 2 years prior to me. Early in my childhood, it became clear to me and most others that I was a “special” boy, or what others might call gay.

My Father was supportive and loving - often shielding me from hateful family members, neighbors, and others. He accepted and loved me no matter my orientation.

When I was 12 and began puberty, things began to change - not only with my body, but with my understanding of what I was. This change was unnoticeable to most, but my Father sensed it too.

I came to realize that I wasn’t just gay. I had a need to please and satisfy others - especially Men. I sought out opportunities to be of service to Them - running errands, doing laundry, cleaning, etc. I found myself seeking out opportunities to see Men naked, and often was drawn to public toilets and locker rooms.

Once in high school, this phenomenon only deepened. I found myself seeking out this abuse. Even as I sought out abuse and humiliation, I also found myself fantasizing about my Tormentors - placing Them on a pedestal and yearning to touch Their bodies. I also sought out more opportunities to be subservient - both to Them and other Men.

During elementary school I was teased and bullied regularly and had hated it. I was miserable. But then, beginning in middle school, I began to notice that the teasing and bullying was something I kinda wanted - I enjoyed seeing how teasing and bullying me made my Bullies happy - and as I neared the end of 8th grade, found myself being aroused by Their abuse.

During my time in high school, I worked hard to be chosen as the assistant manager for the JV, and later varsity, lacrosse team so that I could be in proximity to the Players (many of whom were among my most active Bullies) and spend time in the locker room, collecting used gear, dirty sports kit and towels, and generally subjecting myself to Their abuse, domination, and ridicule.

Still, even as this daily degradation persisted, I couldn’t help but be aroused by it. And I soon found myself stealing away in the locker room after school to do take care of the laundry and restock towels, etc. when I was in fact spending hours per week huffing sneakers and sniffing at the Players’ dirty socks and sweaty jockstraps.

My Father witnessed this transformation and, in my senior year in high school, sat me down for a talk.

“Son, it’s become clear to me that you’ve been going through some changes over the past few years. With puberty, that’s normal. What’s less usual is that you’ve clearly realized that you’re different from others. Most young people don’t gain such self awareness until much older. But this self awareness also will make your life more challenging.”

He took a moment and sat down next to me before continuing. “We’ve both known that you’re gay for a long time. And you know that I and your Brother have supported and loved you as you’ve grown more comfortable with your orientation. Just as I supported Logan who has always been confident and successful with friends and sports - so too I’ve supported you with your creativity and introversion. But now you understand that it’s not just that you’re gay.”

He shifted uncomfortably in His seat, “Son, it’s clear to me - and I think to you too - that you’re what is commonly called a faggot.”

With these last words, I at once felt scared and elated. I burst into tears - not out of sadness, but relief as if a terrible weight had been lifted off my soul. My Father comforted me, holding me close, and whispered, “it’s okay, Son. I’m here and you’re safe and you’re loved.”

I quickly regained my composure and asked Him what this would mean for me.

“Well, the biggest change is that you’re going to see a difference in your relationship to Men. This will include Me and your Brother. Being a faggot is in one sense a great gift - yours will be a very simple and straightforward existence. Your sole purpose now and forever will be to serve, worship, and obey Men. From your recent behavior, I’ve no doubt you’ve already realized you’re not among the hierarchy of beings - you understand and accept that you are lesser, inferior, subservient to others and especially to Men. This is often the greatest challenge faced by faggots. That you’ve embraced this truth already and at 17 is impressive.”

I was listening and felt growing relief with every words. Everything He said spoke authentically to what I had been feeling and experiencing for years.

“Now, just as your relation to Men has necessarily changed, so too has Men’s relationship to you. Men - myself and Logan included - are superior to you, have dominion over you, and may do with you whatever we please. You are no longer a peer, or even a person - you’re an object. You are the property of all Men.” He paused a moment - as if to satisfy Himself that the time was right - before proceeding, “for example, while you have been my son, you are now my faggot. You’re Logan’s faggot. You’re our next door neighbor Mr. cooper’s faggot. You’re every Han’s faggot. And as such, it is both expected and your duty to serve, worship, and obey Us. Do you understand thus? It’s very important that you do.”

I nodded my head in agreement.

“Good, I knew you would.” He inhaled deeply, “Now, at your age it can be very dangerous for a faggot. Without structure and the guidance of a Man, you can quickly succumb to the many, many weaknesses that are inherent to faggotry. You cannot and should not indulge your faggot yearnings unless done so in service to Men.”

He looked directly at me and continued, “When you jerk off, it’s about satisfying your pleasure. Even though I’ve no doubt that you’re fantasizing about being a faggot and doing the duties of a faggot when you’re masturbating, you’re still jerking off for your own pleasure. This is destructive and dangerous for a faggot. Again, you need to be protected from your own faggotry until you have developed the maturity and restraint necessary for you to become a useful faggot to Men.”

He cleared His throat and told me to stand up. I of course obeyed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small 3D-printed object and a set of keys.

“Take off your shorts and underwear.” I again, obeyed - not questioning Him for even a moment.

He motioned me toward Him and began explaining what would be happening next, “this is called a penis cage. It is a male chastity device typically worn by faggots on the orders of their Master. I’m going to put this on you. Once it’s on, it won’t come off unless I want it to. I don’t want you to ask me to unlock it. You’re gonna want to beg Me to remove it, but don’t beg - it won’t work.”

“The cage is meant to prevent you from pleasuring yourself and helps to train you to derive pleasure from serving Men alone. I will make sure you can pee; I’ll make sure your genitals are kept sufficiently clean; and I’ll make sure that you can ejaculate with reasonable frequency. But all of this will be my decision and will be because I permit it to happen. Do you understand?”

I said yes, though I really wasn’t sure.

With that He gently placed my penis through the black plastic ring before pushing my scrotum and testicles through the ring do as to anchor it securely. He then guided the head of my penis into a small plastic basket before sliding it onto to the cockring’s prongs. It was very snug and I winced as it pinched initially, but then there was a satisfying click. My Father inserted the bolt and turned the key - locking me in chastity.

It was strange, but standing there - naked and in chastity - felt good. It felt right. I smiled and thanked Him.

He smiled and sat back. “Now, kneel down. I need to put my feet up.”

At first I didn’t understand what He meant. He repeated Himself: “kneel down on all fours in front of me so I can rest my feet on your back, faggot.”

I immediately obeyed.

END OF PART ONE

I was in my early 20s and had joined friends who had been before. They told me I’d be very popular and within ten minutes of our arrival, I was already on my knees sucking a Man’s fat cock. My friends watched as more Men surrounded me - each pulling out Their cocks in anticipation.

Eventually, there were about 9 Men looking to take Their turn on one or both of my fagholes.

These Men ranged in age from a little older than me to much older. Some were slim and fit, but most were overweight. They were mainly white, but there were 2 that were Latino and 1 that was black. Many were hairy. All were horny, hard, and ready to unload in a hot piece of ass like me.

It was wild - as soon as one Man nutted inside me (whether down my throat or up my ass), another Man would quickly tap in and take Their place. And, while the largest group I served maxed out at about 9 Men, I ended up receiving at least 20 loads that day (including a couple loads from one of my friends - I’d never served Him before, and was surprised when I turned around to see Him sliding into my Fagcunt). I returned the next day, but only ended up serving 3 Guys.

It was a great introduction to group sex and gangbangs. It would be another few years before I experienced anything similar - during a visit to a bathhouse in Chicago. Then, as with the first experience, it was a surreal frenzy of Men. It was if They could sense I was a faggot and, once I started serving the first Men, They zeroed in on me like I was prey.

We met at the vending machines and decided to eat our junk food “dinner” together in His room. As we chatted I learned that He was from a small farming community and that He was from a very religious family. He was active in His church group and attended a Christian college. He had a girlfriend but They hadn’t been intimate as They were waiting until They were married.

I shared some of my background and explained I was headed to Seattle for a week of service (I neglected to mention the nature of my service as we’d just met). Despite my euphemism, He asked “what kind of service? Is it for your church?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle and replied, “Well, you could say that it’s definitely my religion…but no, it’s not with my church. I’m headed there to serve a Man I met online.” I paused for a moment to question whether or not to elaborate, and ultimately added, “I’m a faggot.”

He stopped eating and stared at me with a look of shock and fear.

“You’re what?”

I explained that I was a faggot - these as a faggot I exist to serve, worship, and obey Men. I explained that I had always been a faggot and dedicate myself to finding Men I can serve.

He was clearly uncomfortable but also curious to understand. He remarked that I was the first gay person He’d met and that, in His church, it was a serious sin for a Man to lay with another Man.

I smiled and nodded my head, “yeah, I’ve heard that before. Gotta say, I’m pretty sure You’ve met many gay People before…You just didn’t know it.”

To His credit, He thought about that for a moment and replied, “yeah, I guess that’s probably true…I never thought about it that way…”

I added, “also, respectfully, I need to correct You on some of what You said. First, I’m not a “gay” person - yes I am sexually attracted to Men and have sex with Men, but being gay implies I’m somewhere on the spectrum of human sexuality; I am not. Being a faggot is entirely different from sexuality and exists outside the realm of normal human sexuality. And this goes to my second correction: I’m not a person or a Man. I am a faggot. I’m an object. I am profoundly inferior to Men, or indeed all people.”

He looked confused.

“Let me put it another way,” I continued, “You know about Slaves? Awful scar on the history of Humanity, right?”

He nodded.

“Well, Slaves were considered property but were still acknowledged as Human - even though They were treated inhumanely. Well, faggots like me are not even on the level of Slaves - we’re sub-human, and even that’s pushing it cuz “sub-human” implies we exist in relation to Humans. Faggots like me are objects that exist to be used, abused, and enjoyed by Men. You understand?”

He nodded His head with disbelief and then asked, “so guys just use you for sex?”

I nodded, “not just for sex. For whatever They want. I exist to serve all Men and must obey Their every command.”

He chuckled and joked, “well, that’s a new one for me…the bible definitely doesn’t mention faggots!”

I immediately replied, “Exactly! So faggots aren’t sinful!”

With that last statement hanging in the air, He tilted His head and said, “I guess not.”

Sometimes, these young Men seek out older faggots like me - either because They have a preference for my age and appearance, or because They appreciate being serviced by a more experienced faggot, or both - but often They seek me out because of the pleasure They derive by using, abusing (and often humiliating) an older faggot.

Indeed, the power dynamic and difference - the sheer distance between Man and faggot - is much greater when an infinitely inferior old faggot like me is dominated by an exceptionally superior young Alpha.

And remember, for most of these young Alphas, Their college experience is the first time They’re not being told what to do by parents - so of course They embrace the opportunity to exercise Their innate power and superiority and play claim to Their birthright as Men.

In this case, as soon as I walked into His dorm, He lifted up His phone and began recording.

“Take off your clothes, faggot.”

I immediately obeyed - knowing that my humiliation was likely being recorded or possibly live-streamed.

As I stripped, he shook His head and announced, “fuck you’re an ugly faggot! How old are you?” I answered respectfully and He laughed “damn, I think you’re the oldest faggot l’ve ever let serve Me.”

I nodded and thanked Him for this opportunity.

Once I was completely naked He commanded me to spin around. I obeyed.

Then He told me to bend over and spread my asscheeks so He could laugh at my wrecked, worn out faghole.

“Damn, I’m kinda impressed and kinda worried, faggot; I’d have thought a desperate old faggot like you would have blown out your sphincter years ago. Is your fagcunt cleaned out?”

I nodded affirmatively.

“Good. Not sure if I’ll fuck you, but good to know your hole is cleaned out. Then again, if it wasn’t, I’d have made you suck my dick clean after l finished. I bet you would’ve liked that though, isn’t that true faggot?”

I nodded my head yes.

“Yeah, I knew it. You’re one of those faggots. You like being a toilet and are hungry for whatever l want to feed you, aren’t you?”

I again nodded yes.

“Cum, piss, snot, spit, shit - you love all of it don’t you, you sick fuck?”

As His words washed over me, my worthless fagdick began to get hard and I again nodded yes.

“Damn, you’re pitiful.” He decreed. “Come here and get on your knees, faggot.“ I immediately obeyed and once positioned between His legs bowed my head with respect and anticipation.

"Let’s begin.”

I began at His feet - inhaling the subtle stink emanating from His sweaty socks. I continued to breathe it in as He pressed His feet against my face - soon He was pushing open my lips with His feet and I began sucking on His toes through His dirty socks.

“Use your mouth to pull off my socks, faggot.” I complied and was unsurprised when He leaned forward and stuffed them into my mouth. I continued to suck on His sock gag as His bare feet pressed against my face. What bliss.

He abruptly stopped rubbing His feet against my face and barked, “bury your nose in my crack and smell my ripe ass, faggot!”

I obeyed immediately and, with a mouthful of His socks, buried my face into His backside - inhaling the pungent odor of His ass as He positioned His iPhone to capture my depravity.

Moments later, I felt His hand at the back of my head as He pressed my face deeper and then let loose a loud fart.

“Breathe it in faggot! Inhale my fart!”

I gagged momentarily as I felt the moist heat of His ass gas against my face and filling my nose. I did as He commanded and breathed in His stink deeply. It was a foul smelling fart but I loved inhaling Him nonetheless. I moaned in both disgust and ecstasy.

He let rip a few more farts before releasing me and pulling His now spit-soaked socks from my mouth.

“You liked the stink from my ass, didn’t you faggot?” I nodded. “Well, you’ll have more chances to enjoy that later, but right now I need you to open your mouth and lean your head back.”

I obeyed and watched as He began to twist His socks tightly above my open maw. A small but not insubstantial amount of my spit - mingled with His dirty sock sweat - flowed into my mouth.

“Swallow it, faggot and tell me how much you love the taste of my stinky sweaty feet.”

I could taste His sweat and the grittiness of His dirty socks as the small amount of His sock juice landed on my lips and tongue. It wasn’t unpleasant, but I was pleased He was enjoying my humiliation. As I licked my lips clean and swallowed it down I thanked Him for the privilege of tasting anything from Him and expressed my love for any reward He granted me.

Just as I finished expressing my gratitude He grabbed me by the hair and twisted my head upwards to face Him - “open your mouth” He commanded, and I immediately complied. His loogie hit the mark and landed at the back of my throat.

“Swallow!”

I swallowed and immediately re-opened my mouth to meet a thick strand of His saliva stretching from His lips to my tongue. “Swallow!” I obeyed and He released me from His grip.

He repositioned His phone in its stand - still filming - and then pulled off His shorts and jock. He pressed His sweaty jock against my face, lips, and nose and let me breathe in the intoxicating aroma of His masculine stink. It was powerful and musky and I felt my little fagdick twitch and a small droplet of precum to leak from the slit.

He must’ve seen this because He immediately used His bare foot to slap my balls with two sharp snaps in quick succession.

I groaned and doubled over with pain as He chuckled and remarked, “you’re here for my pleasure, faggot, not the other way around.”

As my stomach turned with nauseating waves of pain, I saw Him grab His spent socks and jockstrap and walk into the other room.

When He returned with a large water bottle and stuffed it with His socks and jockstrap, I

Had an idea what I was in for…

Even soft, His cock was fat with about 4 or 4.5 inches of length. His balls were proportionate and hung loose and full of- framed by a full but well-groomed bush of dark brown pubes.

As I watched, He widened His stance, placed the head of His cut cock over the lip of the bottle, and unleashed a powerful stream of hot, deep yellow piss - soaking his socks and jock as He filled up the bottle to about 2/3rds from the top. He sealed the bottle with its lid and remarked He’d let that steep for a bit before letting me gulp it down. I nodded and was legitimately eager to drink down His sock n’ jock flavored piss tea.

“Lie down on your back,” He ordered as He put down the bottle. I obeyed and was surprised by how cold the floor was against my back. As I remained in positions heard Him head to the toilet. He left the door open and I could hear clearly as He took a shit. It was clearly a large dump and I was surprised when He appeared standing over me with a wicked grin across His lips.

“Damn faggot! Did you hear that? That was nasty shit. But feel kinda stupid. I forgot I’m out of toilet paper, so wasn’t able to wipe my ass. Can you think of any way to help Me out?”

I nodded and accepted my reality as a faggot. Men sometimes don’t wipe, or wipe well when they do for that matter, and it’s my duty to serve Them in whatever capacity They deem worthwhile.

I really didn’t mind all that much and knew that I could’ve been the toilet and the toilet paper in this instance, rather than just the toilet paper. Having choked down a few logs in my time as a toilet fag, I was secretly relieved that I was not getting fed - at least not yet.

He straddled me and lowered Himself onto my face. His ass smelled of shit and as I began to probe with my tongue, could taste a sourness as I lapped at His dirty hole. He moaned and offered encouragement, “yeah faggot, get in there and lick my hole clean…”

After the initial shock of His potent odor, I found myself enjoying the stink (as I almost always did). After all, I regularly would sneak furtive sniffing sessions with random dirty, skidmarked underwear at the gym or when traveling with friends (I’ve raised the dirty laundry bags of my buddies on more than a few occasions)!

I didn’t even mind the taste and, soon enough, I had tongued clean His hole and switched my focus to perform a more conventional rim job. As I sucked on His hole, I felt Him pushing out His pucker but He was empty and I took the opportunity to dig my tongue deeper inside His anus. He tasted amazing and I loved the weight of His body against my face.

He was stroking as I continued to rim and I could feel His balls bouncing against my chin as I chowed down on His hole. I could’ve happily stayed that way for hours, but soon enough, He stood up and repositioned Himself so He could stuff His now rockhard cock down my throat.

His cock was well over 8 inches at full mast and I gagged despite myself as He began to throatfuck me. He didn’t care whether I could breathe - He was enjoying my throat and my discomfort and kept thrusting balls deep as my face was flooded with a combination of my throat slime, saliva, snot, and tears. He continued pummeling my tonsils as I choked down what I assumed was copious amounts of His salty precum.

After about ten more minutes of this He pulled out and admired the destruction He had reaped from my throat. His cock was still rigid with a slight downward curve. It was covered in my glistening throat slime. He laughed, spat across my face, and then said, “damn faggot, you have a great mouth. If your faghole is anything like your throat, I may want to use you again!”

With that He took His hand and cleaned off my face - scraping off the slime, snot, and tears.

“Flip over, faggot.”

I obeyed and felt as He placed His hand roughly between my asscheeks - lubing up my hole with my own mucous and spit.

There was no pause. He didn’t ease into me or take it slow - He took the head of His raw cock, pressed it against my pucker, and drove the full length and breadth of His impressive cock balls deep inside me. I winced momentarily as a wave of burning pain inflamed my sphincter, but bit my tongue for fear He would be displeased and send me home.

Within thirty seconds, the pain had passed and He was already pounding away at my fagcunt with vigor and determination. He wanted to destroy my hole and was going to extract maximum pleasure from His hard, unremitting penetrations.

I was in bliss and felt His sweat against my back as He continued His mighty assault against my faghole.

After an impressive duration that attested to His youthful stamina and Alpha-borne endurance, I felt the unmistakable spasms of His cock pulsating inside me - shooting His load balls deep inside my guts. He pumped strands of His seed for what seemed like a full minute or more - and thrust into me a dozen more times to distribute and churn His cum inside me before pulling out.

My ass was wet and leaked cum. He leaned back and scooped up some of His leaked load and then fed it to me. After licking his fingers cleaned, He slid his softening cock into my mouth so I could suck it clean.

He pulled it out of my mouth and gently slapped my face saying, “fuck yeah, faggot. You’re a good one. Def gonna use you again.” With that, He stood up and took a seat in the chair He’d been sitting in when I arrived.

I was still on the floor - naked, covered in sweat and spit, my ass swollen and still leaking cum. He motioned me towards Him and pointed to the water bottle that was placed next to the chair. “You look parched. Drink every last drop or you may never taste my piss again.”

I didn’t need to hazard, I was thirsty for His piss and eagerly began to gulp it down. How much flavor the jock and his sock brought to the beverage I really don’t know, but His piss was strong and salty - just like I liked it. I had no trouble guzzling it all down, and when I had finished - to demonstrate to Him just how much I appreciated the privilege of serving Him, I opened the bottle, pulled out each item individually, and squeezed every last drop I could into my thirsty mouth.

“Good job, faggot.” He smiled, “you still eager for more?” I nodded my head vigorously, hoping to be rewarded with His fresh piss or another load. “Well, I never flushed when I took that shit and I think I made quite a mess - so I guess the only question is how much of a faggot are you?”

I looked toward the bathroom door, conflicted but resolved, and certain that, as a faggot, I would do anything and everything He commanded of me.

On that day, their Father had baked them a cake and told them they would need to finish the cake together. He said there was a key baked into the cake and that whoever found the key would receive a special gift.

Both brothers attacked the cake with glee - excited to find the key that would unlock a special gift. Within minutes, one of the brothers shouted victoriously - holding up the cake-covered key triumphantly.

As their Father clapped His congratulations, the other brother, soured by disappointment, mustered His own grumbling congrats. Father placed His hand on the winning brother and, together with his Brother, led the winner down the stairs to the basement - stopping in front of a locked door.

Neither the winning brother or the losing Brother had ever seen what was behind the locked door and they could barely contain their excitement and anticipation as their Father told the keyholder to unlock the door.

Hands shaking with excitement, he inserted the key and twisted it - hearing a pleasing click as the deadbolt was released. He then twisted the knob and struggled to pull open the heavy steel door. The room was dark and cold. It smelled of cleaning chemicals. The winning brother felt blindly for a light switch as all three entered the room.

Then, he heard the door close behind them. The harsh fluorescent lights clicked to life and revealed a concrete room that had once served as the boiler room.

The winning brother stared confused.

His Father cleared His throat and, looking directly at the winning brother said, “strip off your clothes, son.”

The winning brother looked more confused but his Father’s tone compelled him to comply. As he began to undress, his Father explained that his prize was “contained in these four walls” and was the greatest gift He could ever give to one of His sons. “It is the gift of service, of obedience, and the opportunity to bring pleasure to those he loves most.”

Standing cold and naked, the winning brother asked “what’s happening? What’s happening to me?”

His Father motioned to His other Son to lead His brother to the boiler doors. There, on the floor, were two sets of shackles and a metal collar. “Place this on your brother, Son…help him redeem his birthday gift.”

The Brother was equally confused, but understood that now wasn’t the time to question His Father. He kneeled down and attached the shackles to His brother’s ankles and then moved on to shackle his wrists. “Behind his back!” His Father barked as the other Brother pulled his wrists together behind his back.

As the shackles were locked, the winning brother began to sob, “I don’t understand, what did I do?”

As his Father placed the collar around his neck, He replied, “you won! Don’t you understand? It was your fate…I left it to fate to decide each of your gifts today. You found the key and unlocked the door to the gift of service. Your brother , on the other hand, didn’t find the key, so his gift is the gift of dominion. His gift is his inheritance. Your gift is your burden.” He finished locking the collar and then calmly attached the chain that was anchored to the wall. “I know you don’t feel it now, but there is no greater gift than the opportunity to serve others - especially those who love you. Your brother will have a life filled with struggles - find a job, earn a living, contend with fear and disappointments - you’ll have none of that. Your world will be limited to these four walls; your only duty will be to serve, worship, and obey me and your brother - to bring us pleasure and joy that can be so difficult to find in the real world. Hell, I know you think this is a punishment, but your brother and I are the ones facing the punishing reality of modern existence. Do you understand?”

He didn’t and weeped loudly as his Father and Brother looked on.

His Father motioned for his Brother to come to His side. “You need to stop your crying now, son.” He slapped him hard across the face. He cried more loudly and his Father shook His head with disapproval. “Don’t be an ingrate! Accept your purpose and place!” He shouted, slapping him again before standing up, “Kick him in the nuts”, He said to His Son, “and keep kicking him in the nuts until he obeys.”

He didn’t want to, but He did as He was told. After 4 or 5 direct kicks, he stopped crying and instead glared angrily at both his Brother and Father.

His Father exhaled, “Good. Now here’s the deal. You behave and do your duty and you’ll be provided for. You’ll have hot food and fresh water. But you throw tantrums and all you’ll get is stale bread and piss. Your brother and I will visit whenever we please and you’ll do as you’re told. If I want a foot massage, you’ll give me the best damned foot massage you’re capable of; if you’re brother has some laundry he needs folded, you’ll fold like a pro and thank him for the opportunity to serve him…you get it?”

He was upset and scared, but he nodded his compliance.

Then Father turned to his Brother, “the sooner you accept your position of dominance over your brother and see him as an object for your pleasure, the easier it will be on us all. I know you are probably confused too, but you need to embrace your power just as he needs to embrace his subservience. You understand?”

He nodded asking, “what should I do with him?”

His Father nodded, “here, watch me” He said turning to his other son, “get on your knees boy and look up at me.” As he complied, his Brother watched as His Father pulled out His penis. “Open your mouth” He barked. His brother opened his mouth, his lower lip trembling, and watched as his Father began to piss into his brother’s mouth.

“Swallow it!” He commanded before turning His head to address His other Son, “see, I needed to take a piss and “presto”, your brother is now a urinal.” He watched as his brother gulped down their Father’s fresh piss. His Father continued, “right, come over and stand where I was standing…” He did as He was told and stood standing in front of His kneeling brother. His Father said, “alright, now pull down your shorts and tell him to suck your dick.” Both brothers turned to look at their Father in disbelief. “Do it, dammit, you need to stop thinking of him as your brother. He’s an object, a tool, for you to do with as you please. Now tell him to suck your dick!”

He turned back to face His brother and said meekly, “suck my dick…please?”

His brother hesitated momentarily, but quickly took his Brother’s cock I to his mouth and began to suck on it. His dick was soft as it entered his mouth but, as he continued to suck, he felt his Brother’s cock thicken and lengthen - growing hard and filling his mouth and throat. As he continued to tongue and suck he heard His Brother moan with pleasure and, to his surprise, felt his own dick growing erect.

Could their Father be right? Was this life of servitude actually a gift? There was an elegant simplicity to such an existence. In this new life, his Brother and Father tell him what They want, he does what They want, and all are fulfilled. They get what They want and he gets the satisfaction of knowing that his service has made them happy.

It was still very new, but it was clicking in his head.

His musings were interrupted by his Brother’s sudden ejaculation and a flood of warm, thick cum filling his mouth.

It tasted sweet and, as he looked up at the ecstasy on his Brother’s face, he swallowed and instantly orgasmed - hands-free - depositing a puddle of his cum on the concrete floor.

“Wait, did you actually enjoy that?” his Brother asked as He noticed the strands of pearl white jizz dripping from his dick.

“I mean, I liked that You liked it, if that makes sense?” he replied.

His Brother nodded, “yeah, I guess. I mean, it did feel really good.” Both brothers laughed awkwardly.

“Alright, glad you boys are figuring it out, but I have other shit to do. Make sure you have him clean up the mess he made on the floor - the protein will be good for him - and then join me upstairs.” With that, Father left and the brothers were alone together for the first time since sharing the birthday cake.

“You okay?” He asked, kneeling down. “I’m not really sure, but I’m gonna do my best to make Father happy - I mean, it’s kinda crazy, but I did really feel happy when I saw how much you were enjoying it. And maybe He knows what He’s talking about. Anyway, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

His Brother nodded, “I guess not. But I promise I’ll come visit you as often as I can. You’re still my brother…well, I guess not anymore, but you know what I mean…”

He nodded, the sobering realization hitting him as his Brother continued, “now I’m gonna need you to clean up the load you dropped…I guess you can use your mouth. And just lick it up?”

With that, He patted his head and stood up - observing as he struggled to lean forward without the use of his arms - and watched as he slurped up his ejaculate from the cold floor.

“Good job, fag.”

Within 20 minutes of being messaged with my load count, He showed up to add His DNA to the flood of random, anonymous cum loads that had filled up my guts and were now dripping from my hole.

He was a big cummer and I felt His massive load as He pumped it inside me balls deep. When He pulled out, a stream of mingled cum squirted from my loose faghole and landed on the motel carpet.

Suffice to say, licking up every last drop - before it soaked into the carpet - was challenging but rewarding nonetheless.

While on the floor, He had messaged suck His cock clean before returning to the bed and assuming the position.

I casge most fags after I fuck them for the first time. Interestingly, this boy showed up locked. It’s nice when they’ve already started the process or as I like to call it, their indoctrination.