First, I will state that everyone and everything in this story is a work of FICTION, and that this story is ONLY intended for those 18 years of age and older. This story contains several dangerous and unusual, potentially hazardous acts, should they be attempted in real life. However, this story IS heavily based on experiences that I have had in my young gay life, even though they are exaggerated and sensationalized for erotic pleasure and story-telling.
If you are a dominant & superior alpha man who would like to chat with a pathetic faggot to learn more about this subset of BDSM, I will happily respond to emails at subfagboyforalphamen@gmail.com. Faggots, feel free to send me your comments, reactions, suggestions, and disapproval as well. I am interested in including themes that my readers would like to see added. This is my first story on Nifty, and I may not be the fastest to update it, so bear with me.
There are many more things coming up for our poor protagonist. He will subject to much more extreme humiliation, bullying, straight feet worship, urination, and rough gay sex. Don't you worry about that.
Chapter 1: Lmao, Dude, You're a Fucking Loser!
I have almost no words to describe the current predicament I find myself in. If you told practically any man on this earth that his fate would be how mine turned out to be, he would laugh at you and think you are fucking with him, and when he realized that it was the truth, he would most likely consider some very extreme options. But while I am shocked each day at what I have become, I can't say that I didn't bring this on myself. To better explain things for you, I think it would be best if I start from the very beginning and give you some background information.
My name is Nicolas Harrington Waters. People generally call me Nick, but my close friends call me Niko (pronounced: N-EE-ko). I'm 20 years old, and I'm a sophomore at the University of Maryland studying political science. My family is from the suburbs of Wilmington, Delaware, and I went to a fancy private school there, so I guess you can say I'm a preppy, East Coast rich kid. My family is well off, as my dad is a high-profile accountant in the Wilmington area, and both he and my mom come from families with money. I have one sister, Megan, who is two years older than me and goes to college on the West Coast.
Growing up, I was never the most popular kid, but I was well known and had a good circle of friends. In high school, I was by no means a jock, as I was only 5'9" and close to 150 lbs- a skinny, but relatively fit guy. What I'm saying is that I was able to get by. I avoided most of the teasing and bullying that some of the weaker boys suffered through. In fact, I was the bully a lot of the time. However, this was most likely my adolescent method for covering the fact that I myself was different from the other boys.
For as long as I can remember, something about other boys has always intrigued me. I remember playing with my older-male cousins at family events when I was younger, how they would take me out in the woods to go swimming in the creek, catch snakes and frogs, tell me scary stories, and just do whatever most young boys do. However, I most vividly remember their muscular bodies and how I felt in my pants when I saw their shirtless torsos. Later on, as I started to undergo puberty, I knew that I was sexually attracted to other boys. But at the time, I didn't really understand that I was gay. Fast forward to high school, and I knew exactly what I was.
When I was 16, my mom looked through my computer and phone one day and found my chat records with an 18-year-old boy in Philadelphia. He wanted to come down and make me suck his cock when my parents were asleep. My mother was devastated that her little boy had been talking to someone who corrupted him so much and gave me a long lecture about the dangers of the internet, but she surprisingly didn't react negatively to the fact that I had been talking to boys and viewing gay porn. She told me that she and dad would always love me no matter what and that the world is a different, more tolerant place for boys like me now. I felt so safe and happy at the time and decided that being gay was not a big deal. I came out to some of my friends at school, and by the time I graduated, pretty much the whole school knew. A lot of people messaged me on Facebook to tell me how brave I was, but I didn't like the individual attention. It was no big deal, people didn't care that I was gay, and that was that.
However, there is one person who didn't receive the news about my sexuality too kindly. His name is Christopher (Chris) Peterson, my childhood best friend.
Chris and I were always very different, but our moms were best friends in college and each other's bride-of-honor, so we spent a lot of time together growing up. His family- the Petersons- were just as well off, if not much more luxurious, than my family. But Chris was always more aggressive, masculine, athletic, and durable than I ever was. By the time high school came around, we weren't really friends, but acquaintances who knew a lot about each other. Let me stress that there were no hostilities between us, we simply grew apart with time into different circles of friends. Chris was the star lacrosse player of our high school who also played football and lacrosse. All the girls thought that he was the sexiest guy alive. He was the top-jock, alpha man of our school, and everyone knew it. By our senior year, Chris was 6'1", 180 lbs of pure athletic muscle, and rocked the typical lacrosse-player (douchebag) wavy black hair. Again, I wasn't a loser, but I wasn't on his level in high school. Yet we continued to see each other a few times a year outside of school because of our mothers' friendship.
When the word got around to Chris that I was gay, he distanced himself from me for a while. This really hurt me, as I always considered him my gateway to straight-macho culture, and thought that if he accepted me, I had protection from some of the more boorish and ignorant jocks at our school. I eventually found out that Chris was concerned I was in love with him, and he didn't want me to get that message, so I confronted him about it over text one day. After that, he was totally cool with me, minus the occasional (and I more frequent than ever before) gay joke directed at me.
During our senior year, it became clear that we would both be moving to College Park, MD, to attend the University of Maryland. I had just received an excellent academic scholarship and would be studying political science, while Chris had been recruited to play midfielder on the UMD Men's Lacrosse Team. One day, our moms were chatting and gossiping over the phone when they came up with a seemingly great idea. If Chris and I are roommates, we can balance each other out and would get along well since we know the other's habits by heart. Chris's mom was concerned that if he lived with other athletes, he would party too much and get bad grades, while my mom was worried that I wouldn't "put myself out there" in college enough to make new friends. Surprisingly, Chris saw nothing wrong with this reasoning and agreed to be my freshman year roommate. After move-in day, things even became friendlier between us, and we actually started to hang out regularly and rekindle our old friendship. I felt so happy to be openly gay as myself and have a serious, take-no-shit straight jock as my best friend and guardian in college. Sure, I had my friends, and he had his, but we also did things as roommates together and talked a lot about our personal lives. I loved hearing about his conquests with the ladies, and he would tease me about how I need to find a boyfriend.
Well, let me tell you, things changed drastically the following year when we moved off-campus.
After freshman year, Chris agreed to move in with me off-campus, describing me as an ideal roommate. So we moved into a small house together in a nice neighborhood near the university. With both of our families being very rich, our parents were paying for us to live in a 3-bedroom home, and we used the extra bedroom for storage and video games. Chris absolutely loved to play shooting games and NCAA on his Xbox, so I let him set up his system in there. That way, I could study in the main room and watch TV without disturbing him.
We had a rule about having people over as well. If he were going to have some girl come by, he would just text me the monkey-face emoji with its eyes covered. After they were done having sex, he sent the monkey with its eyes open. I always thought this was so nice of him, but I also got a little turned on thinking of my hunk of a roommate and friend having sex. But I'm just a horny gay boy, how can you blame me? Admittedly, I didn't want to perv on him? Or so I thoughtÉ
Well, let me tell you now that I didn't have guys over nearly as much as he had girls over. In over a year of living with Chris, I only ever invited guys I was seeing at the time to come over twice. Chris, on the other hand, practically had a new girl over every weekend. But I was just shy, and I watched a lot of porn in my room. I even ran a Tumblr site that was relatively popularÉ Which I will explain to you now.
You see, I found gay BDSM porn when I was just 18. I always thought it excited me more than regular porn. I just loved watching a skinny, submissive boy like me get manhandled and used by a stronger, more athletic, and dominant man. But I always told myself that this is just a fantasy, and I could never do it in person as it may be dangerous even. However, I continued to watch such videos, and I eventually found videos with the tags "alpha/faggot," "foot faggot humiliation," "muscle jock worship," "faggot foot slave" and others. These extremely raunchy, dirty, and taboo videos turned me on a lot. But I thought that they were just a fantasy, something I would only search for online, and nothing else.
Well, one day, I decided that the best way for me to collect the hot porn I found about submissive gay faggots and their dominant (often straight) jock masters was to create my own Tumblr blog. So I created one with the username "Faggot4StraightJockGods." After I created my blog, pretty much every night I would log on, like and reblog hot posts about faggot bitch boys and the nasty ways they were humiliated and used by superior men. I especially loved the posts that showed all these weak twink boys under the feet of athletic, powerful men, being laughed at and verbally degraded.
One day, I came home from class, went into my room and locked my door, logged onto Tumblr, where I had just gotten a message from a dominant bisexual guy in DC asking me if I wanted to be a foot faggot in real life. I was at a loss for words. Until then, I had only ever jerked off to such fantasies. But then I saw the picture he had sent, and I knew that I could not say no to such a sexy man. He was 28, bisexual, Brazilian, very muscular, and had size 14 feet. He told me to send him pictures of myself naked, on my knees, with my hands behind my head and "LOSER" written across my forehead. Naturally, I was nervous about sending such degrading pictures over the internet, but I was just too horny and quickly found myself sending them over to him. About an hour later, I got another message from him.
"Good faggot, you seem like a cunt that knows its place. I messaged you because I like what you post on your blog, you seem to have the right mindset. I think I'll have a good time using a fucking loser foot slave like you, lol."
He asked me to come over to his place that weekend and be his personal foot faggot and obedient human furniture. I was nervous but extremely excited. I thought that this would be the first and last time in a very long time that I did this, so I asked if he would be willing to take pictures and videos of me serving at his feet. He agreed.
So Friday evening came around, and I log back into Tumblr to find another message from the Brazilian foot dom. He asked me if I had any roommates, and I told him about Chris. He said that before I come over, he wants me to send him a video with Chris's dirty underwear over my face and his socks stuffed in my mouth as I say "I'm a pathetic foot faggot and I need to be laughed at by real men." I was nervous about taking Chris's clothes from his room, but he wasn't home, and I would hide them again. So I went and got some of his sweaty, used compression shorts and Nike mid-calfs. I have to admit- I was really turned on to be making such a video with Chris's dirty underwearÉ. After I sent the Brazilian my video, I realized I was late and needed to leave ASAP. So I hurried out of there and took the metro to his place, extremely nervous, shaking and wondering if I should just turn around the whole way. But I didn't. I got off the metro and was almost to his door when my phone buzzed. It was a text from Chris.
"Bro, where you at?"
"Hey Chris, I'm in DC right now, visiting Michaela. Will be back later than usual."
This was a lie, but he didn't need to know where I actually had goneÉ He knows that Michaela, a girl from our high school, goes to Georgetown University in the city, and I figured that he wouldn't press the subject anymore.
"Aight. Wanted to check before I had some of the lax guys over. Cya"
And I was right. With that, I knocked at the Brazilian guy's doorÉ I stood there nervously in the hallway to his apartment, waiting for what seemed like foreverÉ Until he finally arrived at the door and greeted me wearing only athletic shorts and socks. His muscular torso made my knees weak right away. He was big, 6'3" at least and much stronger than I would ever be.
"On your hands and knees, bitch. CRAWL your ass inside," he snapped at me. I was nervous as I had never done this before, but I simply said "yes Sir" in response and got down on my hands and knees to crawl inside. Once inside, he shut the door behind me and turned around to face me.
"Listen up, faggot, you will obey my orders and do EXACTLY as I say. Do you understand, shitface? If that's a yes, then kiss my big stinky feet, pig boy."
This was much more intense than I thought it would be. I already felt defeated and was turning red from embarrassment, but I sniffed his stinky athletic socks on his big, manly feet before kissing them eagerly to show my agreement. He just laughed and told me to "keep my eyes on his feet" and crawl behind him as he began to walk away. I crawled to his living room, and he sat down on the couch and snapped at me to crawl in front of where he was sitting.
"Make that back nice and flat, loser, you are going to be my faggot footstool for a while. Let's see how much of this you can really take."
I told me to stay still as he made me into his footstool and began to play on his phone and watch TV. That was when I heard his camera going off. I knew this was serious, but I was excited to have such photos for myself and only myself, of course. I could smell his big stinky feet as they rested on my back, and I could feel my dick straining in my pants. I was so incredibly horny and willing to do anything he told me to do.
After about 30 minutes of his big feet resting on my back, he ordered me to strip naked and take off his socks. I quickly did just that. Then he ordered me to lay down on my back so that he could stick his huge feet on my face as I sniffed and licked them. My cock had never been so hard, and I thought I was going to cum just from his big stinky feet on my face. I heard his camera go off a few more times, and he would occasionally laugh or just say, "what a fucking stupid foot faggot." But after what seemed like forever, he told me to get dressed and get out of his sight. And that was that. Before I knew it, I was back on the metro to College Park, but this time my face stunk like feet. On the metro ride home, I logged into Tumblr to thank him for such an amazing experience and kindly ask him to send me the pictures he took. He replied and told me I was a good faggot, but would be getting some more intense training later in the month when he is less busy. And of course, he sent me multiple photos. I felt like such a slut when I saw how small, weak, and pathetic, I looked under his big, manly, muscular jock legs and feet. I wanted nothing more than to be back in my room so that I could jerk off and cum before going to sleep. Tonight had been amazing.
By the time I got home, it was almost 1:00 in the morning. I walked into the living room to find a ton of empty beer cans, a sure sign that Chris and his buddies had been getting hammered. I figured that Chris had left for some party with them, just like he usually does. So I headed for my room and opened the door, and that's when I saw Chris, sitting on my bed, with a beer in his hand and a wide grin on his face. I was confused and didn't know how to react.
"Um, Chris, how come you didn't leave with the other guys? Isn't there a frat party tonight? And why are you in my room?"
I was beginning to get really nervous, as something did not seem right. Chris was clearly very drunk, as well.
"Niko, my little man, come have a seat over here. No, not on the bed, you can sit on the floor, I think I'll stretch out right now," said Chris with a drunken slur.
I walked over nervously and sat down on the floor of my room, looking up at my Greek God of a friend and roommate. He was drunk as fuck, but still, this was not usual for him. Then he pulled something out from his pocket, and my blood went cold.
"So, little dude, wanna tell me why I couldn't find these anywhere earlier? You know, I just bought these Nike compression shorts the other week, and I really like them. I noticed that they weren't in my hamper, so I looked all over. And you know, I never come snoop around in here, but I figured maybe, just maybe they were in there. And, well, look at that, my hunch was right! But dude, that's not all I foundÉ Do you have anything to tell me, Niko?"
I was trembling at this point. Chris had caught me perving on his dirty underwear and socks. I was so fucked. But I was more concerned with what he meant when he asked if I had anything for him to tellÉ All I could do was gulp, but no words came out of my mouth. Sensing my terror, he just giggled and continued to go on:
"Little dude, you know that I have no problem with gays. I mean, we've lived together for almost two years now! And you're an awesome roommate, again, I have no problem with the gay thing. But perving on me? Really? I didn't think you were like that, you even told me in high school that it was not like that for you."
"Chris, look, I'm so sorry, let me explain. There is just this um, idea, I had to play with another guy's used underwear. I'm so sorry, I sound like such a pervert. But I've never done this before, and it is just a one-time thing-"
And as I was talking, he cut me off by sticking his big straight foot in my face. He had no socks on, and the smell was strong. It was only a few inches away from my face, and I just stopped talking and stared at it. I didn't know what to do.
"So little dude, you don't want to tell me about your Tumblr blog? Or where you really were tonight? I know you didn't see Michaela, so how about you come clean to me, FAGGOT."
That last word pierced my soul, and I began to tremble even more. Fuck, oh fuck, how did he know about my Tumblr? I sat there in shock and silence with his foot still just inches away from my face.
"Listen up, Nick, don't play stupid with me. After I caught you perving on my ass, I decided to do some snooping of my own. I pay for the WiFi here, so I went through the internet records and saw that you had been downloading a lot of content. I began to get the idea that you were a closet faggot, but damn bro, you are one sick mother-fucker. And your computer password is pretty fucking stupid, you have the same one for all your accounts. So I logged into your laptop and found your blog. I love the title- "Faggot4StraightJockGods," it is very fitting, I must say. And even though going through your gay porn was pretty disgusting at first, I began to find some entertainment out of your humiliation fetish. I love that you call yourself "faggot," "cuntface," "loser," "pigshit," "asswipe," and all sorts of other wonderful names! Tell me, Nick, which one would you prefer for me to call you from now on?"
My head was spinning. I was so fucked. Our friendship would never be the same. I felt so ashamed to be such a dirty foot faggot and wanted to just curl up. Until Chris smacked me across the face with his foot, knocking me to my back. He stood on my chest and aggressively looked down at me with an evil look in his eyes.
"Listen up, Asswipe, I think I like that name the best right now. Things are going to be VERY different around here from now on. You are no longer Nick, Niko, or bro to me, you are ASSWIPE, or CUNTFACE, or whatever the FUCK I think you should be called. Do you fucking understand me?" Chris growled at me as he pressed his foot harder into my chest.
All I could do was nod my head and try not to piss him off further. "Yes, I understand, I'm sorry Chris-"
And with that, he stuck his foot very hard right onto my face and pressed it down so that I was in pain. I was beginning to get scared.
"You fucking loser, don't you EVER call me Chris again. I am not your friend anymore; I am your fucking Master. I mean, you lied to me tonight so that you could go suck on some Brazilian guy's stinky feet and be his fucking human foot stool. How fucking pathetic is that? So no, you are NOT my friend, and you will NOT call me Chris. You will call me SIR or Master, understood, Asswipe?"
"Yes, SIR!" I screamed in pain. I would do anything to calm him down.
"Good faggot. Lmao, dude, you're a fucking loser!" said Chris as he backed off me.
I was about to stand up when he kicked me in the side. I was sent back to my knees in pain.
"Listen up, Asswipe, you are NEVER allowed to stand in my presence. Real men can stand up, but fucking foot faggots like you must crawl. Now look, I am tired and don't feel like entertaining your sorry ass anymore. But I drank a fuck ton of beer, and I need to piss. So open the fuck up."
With that, Chris dropped his shorts, revealing the biggest cock I had ever seen. It must have been at least 7 inches while soft, and as thick as a soda can. I was on my knees, a dizzy mess, when he walked closer to me, grabbed my face, slapped me, and said "OPEN" and began to piss all over my face. I was defeated and could do nothing to fight back. So there I was, on my knees, mouth open, being pissed on all over my face, clothes, and carpet in my room by my straight lacrosse player roommate as he laughed at me and kept saying what fun this year would be. When he was done, he slapped my face again and told me to leave him the fuck alone. He left my room and shut the door behind him.
I was left there stunned, not sure what to think, not sure if what had happened to me was even real. How drunk was Chris? Would he remember this in the morning? Well, I guess I would find out.
The End
I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of my story. Again, this is my first time writing all of this out. Please, share your feedback (positive and negative) with me at subfagboyforalphamen@gmail.com.