This is a work of fiction and all the standard warnings & disclaimers apply. No intended resemblance to actual people. No minors should be reading this material. If you are offended by frank adult reading, leave now. etc.
Another one-chapter stand-alone to stoke the flames. It's possible that I'll expand it, but My focus is on a large story that's coming together; this is a piece that simply didn't fit that storyline.
Reach Me at not_your_typical_Master@yahoo.com
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3PM. It was time to look for today's urinal.
In a few hours, once Orion's workday would be over, he'd be on his way home to the wife and kids. He'd already set up the sitter and made reservations for dinner at a favorite romantic restaurant for their 10th anniversary. Dawn had been his high school sweetheart; they got married right after college graduation. He was lucky to be in such a beautiful relationship with such a beautiful woman. She was everything a man could possibly want.
But sometimes a man enjoys a urinal. Some pathetic homo that knows its place in a man's world. A dick-worshipping whore that treats him not as an equal to respect, but a God to venerate. A faggot that expects to be pushed around, used, debased, shown exactly what it is: a pathetic piece of degenerate filth. A parasite that exists to literally suck a man's masculinity down its cocksucking throat.
Orion enjoyed using his urinals.
He met his first a few years back. He was at a hotel bar while out of town on business. He wasn't looking for anything; he really loved his wife and was faithful to her. The dude sitting next to him was involved in some strange sexual energy with some nelly little faggot in the room. The fag was sitting alone at a table near the bar, staring at the dude but not at his face. The dude would turn around once in a while, chuckle at the queen at the table, and turn back around to watch whatever was on the TV screen.
Orion couldn't say what it was exactly that made the fag's orientation so obvious. But it -was- obvious. The guy wasn't just gay; he was queer. He was a fairy.
At one point, the dude left to use the men's room, an empty glass in his hand. He softly hit the back of the queer's head with the glass as he passed by. Orion waited to see if the fag was going to follow him into the bathroom. Orion had no issue with gay guys, but he hoping not to have to deal with two of them making out if he wanted to use the toilet. Thankfully, the queen stayed in place. The dude came back, put his glass on the table in front of the fag, and sat back down at the bar. The glass wasn't empty any more. The fag stared at it, licking his lips.
"You're fucking kidding me." Orion said it out loud without even realizing it. The dude looked him in the eye and laughed.
"I know, right? It's hard to believe, but there it is. I mean, seriously, right there." He pointed at the faggot and his chuckle invited Orion's laughter to join in. The faggot cringed, turning bright red as it started swallowing the glassful of piss.
"So, what, are you two a couple?"
The dude laughed. "Never met the bitch before tonight, here at the bar. I'd arranged this online and you're watching the result of it."
Orion's face was one big question mark.
"Let me explain. The name's Brad."
"I'm Orion. Yeah, I know, like the constellation. My folks were, well, you can figure it out."
"Age of Aquarius types?"
"You got it, bud. So what the fuck is going on?"
"OK. Real simple. Sometimes I enjoy using fags."
"You mean gay guys?" Orion thought of the gay couples he knew and didn't think they'd be doing this kind of shit. Then again, he never got into their personal lives. Never asked, so they never told. It was obvious they were coupled, but just like he never discussed making love to Dawn with them, they didn't talk about their sex with him. All cool.
"No, Orion. Fags. Queers into being used by real men. Here, let me make this easy. You mind if the faggot talks to us?"
Orion shrugged his consent, wondering what he might be getting himself into.
Brad turned to face the fag, his left hand at his crotch. He curled his index finger inward and the faggot jumped up. Orion stifled a laugh as the faggot pranced toward them with his hips, a stereotypically gay movement Orion hadn't seen except in old movies.
Brad's voice lost its friendly edge as he snarled to the cocksucker. "OK, sissy. Tell this man here what's going on."
"I don't understand, Sir." The cocksucker spoke with what was not quite a lisp, but a small display of yet more obvious fag behavior.
"Oh, Jesus, you moron. This man is curious. Hell, turn around and show off. That's a start."
The faggot spun like a ballet dancer half way around. His butt pouted up from the arch of his back, feline and feminine. And his jeans were low enough to show off some bright pink lace panties. Well, no, from what he could see, it was more like a jock strap made of lace. Odd. Queer. Faggy.
Orion didn't say a word, but his groan said it all. Disgust. Revulsion. The faggot spun back around, head down, humiliated by his honest reaction.
"I'm a sissyboy, Sir. A fag aching to be used by men like you. I know you have places you'd rather put your cock than in my homo holes, Sir, so anything I can do to please you helps make my day a ...."
Brad started talking, overriding the faggot. "Every once in a while, I look for one of these online. Queens that are openly looking to be used. I don't fuck em, but it's so hot to use these fagbitches at little slaves to do whatever the fuck I want. Get me a beer, bitch.' Clean my house, faggot.' Go mow my lawn, homo.' And no matter what I say, it gets done. Ain't that right, fagcunt?"
"Anything you want, Sir. It's an honor to serve you, Sir."
"So I look for sissy bitches who aren't trying to be women, but be the faggots they were born to be. Nice little sissies. I tell `em to swish their hips, lisp, limp their wrists, be proud of the fags they are. That if I don't see a clear and obvious queer when I walk into the room, I'm leaving. And this," he shrugged toward the fag, "is what I get."
"Thank you, Sir. I'm proud to be your sissy faggot, Sir."
Brad's face lightened up as he turned to Orion. "Hey, buddy, how's your bladder?"
"Huh?"
"Ever had a fag drink your piss?" The cocksucker cringed as Brad turned toward it, his face cooling from a grin to a sneer. "Go get the glass from the table, cuntboy." The sissy returned to the table, grabbed the nearly empty glass, and came back to the men. "Now hold it in your hands in front of your faggot face and beg this stranger for his pee."
The cocksucker cringed and turned to face him. His head angled up to Orion's, but his eyes looked down humbly. "Please, Sir, if it's not too much trouble, it would mean so much to a faggot like me to drink some of your delicious piss. I've never had the piss of two men in me at the same time, and just the thought of it makes me unbelievably hot, Sir. I could never do enough to thank you, Sir. I will be your faggot bitch for the rest of my sorry life, Sir, doing anything you wanted done for you, Sir. Taking care of all the shit you don't want to deal with. Sir, I'll fucking pay you for your piss, Sir."
"What?" Orion didn't see that one coming.
The queen blushed. "Yes, Sir. I'll pay you for your piss, Sir. $50, Sir."
"So, what, I'm your fucking whore, faggot?"
"Oh, God, no, Sir. I'm YOUR whore. It's just that money is power. So, Sir, money should be in your hands, not mine."
Orion had a quick business sense, and the obvious response was to bargain. "I'll do it for $100, faggot. A Franklin for my urine."
"Yes, Sir. May I go use the ATM, Sir?"
Orion paused just a second as it all started to sink in. "Yes, but stop by the front desk and exchange it. I want a single bill, cocksucker. Literally, a Franklin for my urine."
Brad chimed in. `Shit, man, you think fast. You know what, fag, I'll take a $100 finder's fee."
"Yes, Sir!" The queer gulped the remains of piss in the glass before offering it to Orion.
Orion nodded to his glass on the bar. "Thanks, fagbitch, but I got my own. Get moving." The homo ran, faggot-style, out of the room.
"You think he's coming back?"
"I'll bet you your hundred he does," Brad answered.
"Nah, just curious. But cool." Orion finished his drink and took his glass into the men's room. He was amazed at his cock's fullness as he drained himself into the tumbler. It wasn't the fag's sexuality that turned him on; he had no sexual interest in the fag at all. This was all about power. Orion felt the testosterone oozing out of his pores as the warmth of his piss filled the glass. He sauntered out into the bar as Brad chuckled.
"You were born for this, buddy."
As the faggot raced back into the bar, a $100 bill in each hand, Orion decided Brad was right. He was born for this. He thrust his glassful of piss at the sissy as he pulled the bill from its hand. "All yours, cocksucker. Gulp it all down."
He watched the fag guzzle his nasty piss, moaning with pleasure at each swallow. The queer panted once the tumbler was empty. "Oh, God, thank you so much, Sir. Here's my card..."
"Shut up, faggot. I don't want your phone number. I'm flyin' home tomorrow morning. You can spend the rest of your life hungering for me. From now on, though, you give this dude your life. Anything he wants done, gets done. got it, bitchboy?" Brad smiled from deep inside his eyes, appreciating Orion's innate skill at handling the fag.
"Yes, Sir."
"I'm getting the fuck outta here. I got lots to think about." He turned to Brad, offering his hand. "Thanks, dude. This was an experience."
Orion smiled upon the reminiscence, and got back to his need for today. He'd already posted his ad online, using the template he always found productive:
STR8 DUDE SEEKS URINAL
I'm a straight husband and father who enjoys using the occasional fag as my urinal on the way home. I'll be leaving downtown tonight at 6PM, taking transit to Wrigleyville.
You are a fag who knows the value of draining a man's piss down your throat, straight from my plumbing to your own, cocksucker. I've been tanking up, so be prepared to gulp down a full bladder. If you can't swallow open-mouthed, you're not skilled enough for my use.
I'm just going to knock on your door. You open it, kneel, and I unleash and unload. Then zip up and walk away. I don't even want you to say hello or goodbye. Urinals don't talk.
Ideally, you're comfortable enough as a fag to not even try to be a man. But you're not a woman either. I respect women, so don't insult them by pretending to be one of them. You're a fag. That's all you are, all you ever will be. Wanna impress me? Be wearing some pretty fag panties when I stop by.
I'm looking for fags who are within 2 blocks of any stop on the red line between downtown and Wrigley. If you're not at an on-the-way stop, it ain't my problem, cocksucker; move.
Reply with your address. I don't give a fuck what you look like, pissbitch, so don't bother with the pics. You got a photo of my 7 uncut inches in front of you; that's all a fag like you needs to know. I'm not answering any ad except by knocking on one faggot's door this evening. So all of you will be waiting and hoping, but only one lucky faggot gets to quench its thirst. Yeah, I get off on that kinda shit. Deal with it.
If you want to sweeten the deal, you can be my pay toilet and show your gratitude for my liquid gold. The best offer will get my knock on the door between 6 and 6:30 tonight. The rest of you will be thirsting for me.
You'll want to serve and service me in other ways, too. Yeah, I know that. You'll wanna suck my dick. Ain't gonna happen, fagbitch. I got my wife for that. I may be the best thing that's ever happened to you: a real man who'll let you be nourished by my fluids. But to me, you're just a urinal on my way home.
Orion looked over the responses and found an offer for $150. Poor little fag must be pretty fucking desperate; it'll be paying for his dinner with his wife. Orion noted the address and looked through the list of pisspots he'd already used to see if any were nearby. He found 3 that had paid located between the train stop and this new urinal's address, all in the gay part of town, of course. He sent an email to the 3 previous urinals:
You know who I am. I'll stopping by at a new urinal's place that's not far from you. If the fag flakes out and you want my piss instead, just hit reply before I leave here at 6. Don't bother me with any words, faggot; all I need is to see that you replied. Of course, if you reply and I knock on your door and you don't answer, you're off my list and will never again be blessed with my urine. Nice and simple, faggot. Have your payment in your hand when you open the door for me.
Orion knew he'd be hearing from at least one of these desperate homos, so he was all set. A little amusement on the way home, followed a fag-paid romantic evening with his wife. Once they got back home, a night of tender and sensual lovemaking with the woman he loved.
Orion loved his life.