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<Authoritarian, m/m, high school, feet>
SERVANT TO A SOCCER STUD CHAPTER 3
"Shut the fuck up, fag. And get the fuck out of my house."
I quickly put my clothes back on and scurried out of Kyle's house. Kyle clearly did want to "debrief" after he got what he wanted, and it didn't seem like my servitude to him was just bedroom role playing. No, our dynamic had permanently changed. Maybe in public it would be like old times, but I instinctively came to the conclusion that when I was alone with him, we were no longer equals, no longer friends. And why was I subjecting myself to this? Well, this was making Kyle happy, and Kyle being happy made me happy.
I checked my phone. "Fine, but don't make a habit of it," was my Mom's text response to me telling her I was going to miss curfew. I jumped into my car, and drove the minute it took to get back to my house. The house was dark; my parents and younger sister must have gone to bed. I went into my room. For a moment, I thought about whether I was allowed to jerk off now. Crazy, right? It was my dick in my room. Who was going to stop me? But I did think about it. Well, Kyle said I wasn't allowed to cum without permission in his presence. He never said I couldn't cum in the privacy of my own house. I decided there was no rule about this matter.
Plus, the taste of Kyle's cum was still strong in my mouth. I had never tasted anyone's cum before, including my own. But Kyle's cum was Kyle's cum, and I knew I would come to treasure it more and more as his gift to me, as the fruits of my labor to pleasure him. Adding to my already-higher-than-ever level of horniness, as I brought my hands to my nose, I could still smell Kyle's one-of-a-kind smell -- a mixture of mostly feet and socks that I was now using to recreate the events of the night. A shame I didn't actually have Kyle's socks to sniff; my mind drifted to how I could get Kyle to donate his worn stuff to me, maybe if I volunteered to do his laundry.... After about 2 minutes, while swirling my tongue to try to taste the remnants of Kyle's cum, with my right palm on my face and my nose sniffing obscenely hard to detect the last traces of Kyle's essence, along with my mind focused on the mental picture of Kyle's face, the shape of his feet, his kicks to my head, etc., and my left hand doing its thing on my dick, I shot my very large load.
Post-release, I went back to thinking about Kyle and my new relationship. I was still gonna see him in school all the time. What should I do? How should I behave? Was he going to out me? Should I just come out myself? All of these questions returned to one single factor: what would Kyle want. I didn't think Kyle would want my sexual orientation, much less our "situation", to be known to others. If no one else knew I was gay, Kyle could use me more freely with less concern about what others might think when we were "hanging out." My mind then went to a darker place, would Kyle blackmail me? Again, I didn't think so. If Kyle wanted to have his fun with me for as long as he wanted, having others find out just how perverted I was would only restrict his use of me. Less than four hours since we left the diner, and I was already planning my life around Kyle's happiness. The heaviness of those thoughts combined with the intensity of my orgasm put me to sleep.
Saturday came and went without any word from Kyle. Sure, I thought about him all day long, wondering whether I should text him and wishing he would text me. But I thought better than to initiate contact. I ran 2 miles in the morning, browsed Instagram, had some pointless conversations on Snapchat, the family went to Olive Garden for dinner, and that was the day.
Sunday arrived. At 8:30am, I was about to go for a run when Kyle's text came. "Get your fag ass over here. My Mom knows you're coming; just head up to my room." My mind started racing. I started running around and almost tripped over myself, accomplishing nothing. I took a deep breath. "Okay, I can do this." I decided to skip a shower but for whatever reason brushed my teeth. My mouth was only going to end up on Kyle's feet and cock, but I still felt the urge to present Kyle's below-the-waist body parts with a minty fresh mouth. I put my shoes on, ran down the stairs, got in the car, and drove speedily to Kyle's house.
As I pulled up, I realized, "Oh shit." I hadn't planned out how I would greet Kyle. A high five and a "hey dude" would probably have been met with a hard slap to my face. By the time I rang Kyle's doorbell, I had some ideas, but will basically have to improv.
"Hi, Mrs. Peterson," I said as Kyle's mom opened the door. She greeted me and let me upstairs while she went back to the kitchen.
I knocked softly on Kyle's closed door.
"Come in."
My hand was shaking as I turned the knob. I entered, saw Kyle still sprawled out on his bed, covers falling off the edge, and he was totally naked. He was such a tease. I proceeded to close and lock the door.
Here goes. I fell to my knees and proclaimed, "Good morning, Master Kyle. Thank you so much for summoning me. I am so happy to be here to do whatever pleases you." I then bowed down three times, forehead to floor, and after the third bow kept my head down waiting for instructions.
I heard the sound of Kyle stretching and grunting lazily. I could also hear him laughing. I felt all warm inside that this was entertaining for him.
"Oh fag, I'm gonna have so much fun with you. Get over here and greet my feet."
I crawled to Kyle's feet and had my morning make out session with them, constantly praising them and saying all sorts of things to boost Kyle's self-esteem at my expense. One of the things I said that I thought he particularly enjoyed was, "I so wish I could be inside your cleats cuddling your stinky, sweaty feet while you're scoring the game winning goal."
Kyle interrupted my foot devotion with that sexy voice of his, "So guess what I was doing yesterday, buddy?" The fact that he called me "buddy" instead of one his usual derogatory homophobic insults did not make me feel better. But I did get to start to get a feel for Kyle's different modes and moods. Today was a lazy Sunday morning, very different from Friday night's more urgent push by Kyle to get off. Kyle was not going to be intense every single time. He was too cool for that. When he felt relaxed, he could project relaxation, and he knew his fag was obedient enough -- and more importantly so fuckin' madly in love with him -- that the fag would still be at 100% all the time, ready to take and do whatever Kyle was in the mood for.
"What, sir?" I asked, before immediately going back to making out with his feet.
"I came up with a list of things I can order you to do on demand. One letter of the alphabet for each thing. I call it my remote control. You'll memorize the list of course, and if you fuck up, the punishment will be severe beyond belief. I'll have the list and call out the letter or letters I want. You, like a robot, will then perform the ordered service with zeal and gusto." With his every word, I got harder.
"Come up here and fetch a copy." I scooted up and he slid a copy of the list in between my lips. He also sat up on the bed and picked up his own copy. "Read the list now, faggot, out loud."
Starting with "A: Foot massage", I started reading the list out loud.
A: Foot massage B: Leg massage C: Back massage D: Take Kyle's shoes off and sniff the insides of them, hard E: Sniff and kiss Kyle's socked feet F: Take Kyle's socks off and worship the socks G: Bury nose in between Kyle's toes H: Suck big toe I: Suck second toe J: Suck middle toe K: Suck fourth toe L: Suck pinky toe H-L Combo: Fit all toes in mouth M: Tongue in between each toe N: Lick foot from heel to toes O: Worship armpit P: Worship nipple Q: Bring face close enough for Kyle to slap R: Take Kyle's underwear off, turn inside out, and sniff the pouch, hard S: Fetch another piece of clothing from Kyle's room and make out with that T: Bury nose in Kyle's ball sac U: Lick Kyle's balls V: Suck on Kyle's balls W: Hold Kyle's cock in hands and jerk the tip into waiting fag mouth X: Full blowjob Y: Kiss Kyle's ass all over Z: Eat Kyle's ass like there's no tomorrow
"Z: Eat Kyle's ass like there's no tomorrow," I finished. Once again, I was leaking pre. I thought about those last two items. I had not yet done that, or some of the other stuff on the list. But Kyle was thinking ahead. These 26 items were going to become the staple of my interactions with Kyle.
He was apparently thinking similar thoughts when he said, "So yeah, that's what you'll be doing, like all the time. Excited, buddy?"
"Oh yes, Master Kyle. Everything on your list, if it makes you happy, then it automatically makes me happy. Thank you so much for taking time out of your day yesterday to put the list together. I'm honored you take even a second out of your precious time to spend on me."
Kyle laughed, "Yeah, yeah, enough. Anyway, some of the items depend on right versus left. I'll say the number one for right and two for left. So, let's see ... L1 would mean suck my right pinky toe. P2 would mean worship my left nipple. By the next time I see you, which could be whenever the hell I want, you had better have the list completely memorized. Got it, bitch?"
He was back to the name-calling. "Yes, Master Kyle."
"Now this 'remote control' is by no means the whole list of ways you'll serve me. At any time I want, I can make you do more and different things. Or I can do more and different things to you. But of course you knew that already, right?"
"Yes, Master Kyle. My job is to anticipate your wishes in advance." I carefully folded the list and put it in my pocket.
"Good, good." There was a long silence, so I went back to kissing his feet. If that's the default position for me whenever I was alone with him, then I wasn't going to complain.
"You know, homo, we're gonna be spending lots of quality time together, but for this to work, we're gonna have to pretend in public that you're not my faggot servant. I mean, don't piss me off in public, but obviously you can't grovel all over me like you do in here." I can't remember when I ever pissed him off, in public or otherwise. I was already so deferential to him even before this all started that I doubt anyone else would even notice the difference.
"I understand, Master."
"And when we're alone, you better be so servile that even I think you're trying too hard. Don't you dare relax or slow down or not put in 100%. And don't you dare think we are actually friends again. My sole use for you from now on is, well, to use you as I please. Got it, cum breath?"
"Got it, Master Kyle!" I eagerly exclaimed.
More foot worshipping ensued when I suddenly heard Kyle say, "S." Shit, the remote control. Time to perform on demand. When I reviewed it the first time and read it out loud, I was already making a strong effort to memorize it. It wasn't perfect yet, but I wanted to impress him even if I was only 80% sure. So without looking back at the list, I crawled to Kyle's closet and saw his gym bag. I opened it. Total treasure trove. The jock strap stared back at me. I had no question. I picked it up, brought it back to Kyle's bed, and went to town on that jock strap.
"Fuck, you are such a fag. Oh, and make sure you swallow my pubes stuck to that thing." Like he had to ask. I had already swallowed every pubic hair down my greedy throat. "How low do you have to be to be making out with some guy's jock strap? Oh, that's right, you are that low, you stupid faggot." Relaxed Kyle was waking up and turning back into intense Kyle. No matter, I was ready and harder than ever.
"Thank you, Master Kyle's jock strap, for letting me make out with you. I want to date you. I want to marry you. I want to spend every waking moment with you. But even that is more than I deserve."
Kyle's reply? "W." OK, this was the one before full blowjob, right? X was the full blowjob, I remember that one. This one, he wants me to hold his manhood in my hands and jerk it into my mouth. He must enjoy that sensation and the idea that I am holding his cock like some sort of gift from God. I respectfully placed the jockstrap to the side of the bed and proceeded to put my nervous hands around his semi-hard member. Oh, it felt so warm, so virile. Even semi-hard, I fulfilled letter W by putting Kyle's cock tip in my mouth. And while the remote control didn't explicitly say this, I knew that it was only shorthand. If my mouth was on any part of Kyle's cock, it had better be doing work. So as my hand jacked the shaft, my tongue was doing all sorts of gymnastics on his frenulum and piss slit. Kyle sighed approvingly and hardened to full mast quickly.
"X, bitch."
I took my hands off his 8-inch monster and went full throttle on it with my mouth. This time, Kyle pressed my head down harder than last time. Still inexperienced, I coughed and gagged.
"You had better work on that, cunt. Get a dildo or something. I am going to want my cock head to feel the inside of your throat."
I nodded, thankful that he didn't punish me more for this obvious disappointment. Nonetheless, Kyle moved my head up and down on his cock, and I kept adding as much variety to the blowjob as I could. Just as he was about to climax, Kyle pulled me off, grabbed my hair with one hand and masturbated himself to completion, shooting six full loads onto my face (one went directly into my nostrils; I loved it) and then moving my mouth back onto his cock to nurse it while he deposited the last drops into my mouth.
"All right, cocksucker. You have lots of homework to do. For now, get back to my feet, and you know what to do with all the cum that gets on my feet."
I sure did. I was only a few sentences into thanking and praising Master Kyle's cum -- yes, his cum -- before I heard the now all-too-familiar, "Shut the fuck up, fag."
TO BE CONTINUED ...