Surprising housewarming party

It was a sunny Saturday morning and I had to run some errands, go grocery shopping and all these boring real-life problems, you know. I put on a pair of short Adidas jogging trousers, Calvin Klein boxer briefs, Under Armour t-shirt, black Adidas crew socks and my Vans, size 46. When leaving the house, I realized how it would drive most of my fag followers crazy if they’d see me like that. Not wanting to spare them the opportunity, I took a picture and posted it on multiple of my kink social media accounts with the message “Who of you filthy faggots is eager to sniff my musky Vans after a hot summer day?”.  

I headed out and upon arriving at the shop, my phone had pinged already a few times. I checked whether anyone had actually written something. Turned out that “hoerigerJunge1995” (something like “obedientBoy1995” in English) had texted me: “Sir Aleks, this obedient, worthless fag boy would appreciate every single breath he could take from your huge, musky, godly Vans. Although I know that I will never be worthy enough to serve you.” Attached came a picture of a black-haired, naked guy kneeling in front of the camera, face down on the ground and arms stretched out towards the camera. It was funny how this boy was probably my age given his name and looks, but addressed me as ‘Sir’. He was not too bad looking from what I could see on the picture: neither fat nor too slim, no body hair, and neat appearance. His profile told me he was about 90 km away. Sad… no time for such a distance. I was invited to a friend’s housewarming party that evening quite far away and still some things to do.

So, I went on with my day, lunch, sexting, getting rid of some business stuff piled up from the week, etc. For the evening event, I changed my Adidas jogger for an A&F jeans and my Under Armour t-shirt for a well-fitting, black Hugo Boss business shirt accentuating my six pack and biceps.

An hour’s drive later, I arrived at my friend’s house. Jacob and his wife had prepared an awesome BBQ, salads, garlic bread and all the stuff you’d dream of. They were foodies, especially Jacob, and you could tell, but because of their friendliness and wholeheartedness, we had become close friends years ago. Any attempts from my side to get them working out a little more was in vain while their attempts to have me well-fed when coming around always succeeded. He gave me a house tour of all three floors and they’d modernized it quite well. Even the basement looked habitable by now with a sleepover couch in one room and a 3rd spare bathroom. However, Jacob made clear that there was still a lot to do down there. I had helped also once or twice so not everything was new to me, but the new furniture really elevated the place.

I also realized that there were quite some people at the party, mostly older neighbors, but also friends our age whom I haven’t met before. We introduced each other, music was playing, and as I was the newcomer to the group, I had some talking to do. However, me being an extrovert, I had no issue in doing so and became somewhat the center of conversation. Some female friends were eager to know how I kept so fit and lean when they saw how much was on my plate. “Cheat days, you know?”, I just grinned.

One of Jacob’s friends, he introduced himself as Chris, came back from the buffet and took a seat. He somewhat looked familiar to me, but I couldn’t quite fit him in. Also, it was the first time meeting this friend group, so… But then, when he looked down at his plate, his pitch-black hair directed towards me, it struck me. Could he be…? But that would have been too much of a coincidence, wouldn’t it? I remembered the app where you could see the distance to your chat counterparts and pulled out my phone. “hoerigerJunge1995” less than 1 km away, it read. I burst a short laughter and when all eyes turned on me, I just went for the “funny insta reel”. I fixed my gaze on Chris and made up a plan...

I waited for him to finish eating and when he brought his plate into the kitchen, I followed him. When he put down his plate on the counter, I came very close and whispered loud enough for him to hear “follow me, hoeriger Junge [obedient boy]” and headed down the stairs into the basement room with the extra couch. It took him another minute to follow suit, but when he entered the room, where I stood arms crossed, I could see he was shaking. His face red from shame and his eyes wide in horror. “Hey Aleks, s…see, I don't know what you meant, you are mistaking me, could you please… maybe” he was babbling nonsense trying to make up a story of him not being the faggot who wanted to breath the putrid sweat odor out of my Vans. I walked to the door and locked it. I turned and commanded “Strip now and kneel down if you meant what you wrote or let your chance pass by, faggot.” He took a second to consider his options and started unclothing. Once he was fully naked, he knelt in front of me. I took a moment to assess my new fag boy. I was not disappointed, Chris was almost my height when standing, well-trimmed body hair, and even some visible muscles. However, when I looked down, I needed to withhold laughter. His little wiener was fully erect, but surely couldn’t measure more than 5 cm in length. He must have read my mind and blurted out: “Yes, I know Aleks. I do have a rather small penis and that is also why I see myself as a bottom…What’s wrong?” I kicked his upper body so that he fell over and was lying flat on his back now, my right Van pressing down on his chest with his hands to my ankle apparently trying to lift the pressure a little. “Why is it always that you faggot boys can’t stop babbling in my presence and that while you ARE talking, there is utter bullshit flowing out of your glory holes? First, you address me as Master Aleks or God Aleks or something creative showing my status compared to subs like you. When in public, you are free to refrain to ‘Sir’ so that it’s a little less obvious what a submissive cunt you are. Second, let go of my ankle. Your fag hands touch me only when I allow them to.” He obeyed immediately. “And third, you tiny dicklet has nothing to do with you being a cum-eating, feet-sniffing, cock-worshipping sissy boy. It’s just who you are. Like a personal trait, part of your character. You know, I like to read fantasy literature and you like to inhale the damp odors of young alpha Gods like me. And now I don’t wanna hear one more word. Crawl over to the couch and start licking the bottom of my Vans. You have to work for my shoe smog first.” With that I lifted my shoe and made myself comfortable on the guest couch with my shoes on the edge. Chris stayed on all fours like I demanded and almost came running. If he had had a tail butt plug in, it would have wiggled like the one of a really happy doggo. He started licking my soles up and down, even biting at some very crusty spots. He seemed to even swallow sometimes. I was surprised as to how thoroughly he performed the task. “Open up! I’m gonna give you some more liquid cleaner.” He opened his mouth, poked out his tongue and I spit on it. He didn’t swallow. “Continue, slave.”

After a couple of minutes, I was satisfied. This shouldn’t take too long since we were at a party and he had clearly shown his obedience. “Get off my soles!” He looked surprised and rather sad. But when I finally took off my right shoe, placed it in front of him, while he sat there on hands and knees again looking at me like a puppy, I made him the happiest slave when I said the words “You are free to sniff, boy.” He was on it as if I called dinner time. He buried his nose deep down in my shoes and inhaled, deep. His tongue started licking the inside trying to get every bit of my alpha sweat. I had to record a short video; this was too much fun to look at. He was too intrigued by my God odor to even notice. When he suddenly started “stroking” his excuse of a penis, I yelled: “Stop immediately or I will crush your balls so you will never ever cum again in your pathetic life!” He looked shocked, stopped without hesitation, brought his forehead to the ground and cried out: “I am sorry, Master. I was overwhelmed by the situation. Your smell is like a sex pheromone to me. It drives me crazy. I know this is no real excuse, but please accept my sincere apology.” “No offense taken. I hadn’t laid out all the rules to you yet. But remember that when I’m around, I am the only one to cum as long as I don’t allow you to. Now come here.” He crawled to my feet again, probably hoping for the second shoe, but I had different plans. “Have you ever sucked dick, fag boy?” He looked up at me wide-eyed. “No, Master. Only tried to practice with some dildos as I am not outed, yet…” “Well, first-timers always put in the little extra effort which I am looking for today.”

I unbuttoned my shirt and jeans and gave Chris a look at what was hidden within. My now almost fully hard 20 centimeters were still covered by my Calvins, but some pre-cum was leaking. I commanded him to kneel in front of me and lick through the boxers and have a little pre-taste. He started licking and I could see a little hesitation in his moves showing that he was unsure whether he could take the whole thing. “We will do that slow and easy first.” And with those words, I let my alpha rod slip out of my boxers into the boy’s face. The veins were clearly visible and the head was pulsing on the search for a willing target. Chris opened up, tongue out like an obedient fag. I steadily pushed my dick into his hole and he welcomed my first 10 cm without complain. I asked him to lick a little and make himself more comfortable even allowing him to grab my feet or legs to steady himself. His tongue was in action now and I quite enjoyed his effort to please me. He licked off my pre-cum and even went back and forth, now slowly reaching up to 13 to 15 cm of my rod. I moaned a little and took hold of his head. He put in even more effort to make me cum. “Prepare…” I said and I think he actually prepared for me to cum, but I wasn’t ready for that yet. I pushed deep, his nose hit my pubic area and the tip of my love rod went into his throat. He wasn’t prepared and tried to push back, but I had the leverage and held him tight in place. His eyes watered and his gag reflex chimed in, just a little more… And I pulled out. My little obedient fag fought for air desperately, coughed again and again. “Ok, we will have to work on that, but for now we will steady ourselves on the 13 to 15 cm you can already take. Are you ready to continue, fag?” “Yes, Sir, I want to taste your cum, please. May I have it, please?” I just smiled and brought my rod back to his lips which parted as if I’d said “Open sesame!”. Now, Chris was not holding back, he went back and forth, worked his tongue around my shaft, top and bottom. Even working on my balls without me asking. When I felt I was close to climax, I took hold of his head, increased the speed even further, in and out, in and out, his saliva dropping from his chin and BOOM. At the high point of my orgasm, I rammed my entire length into Chris’ hungry mouth and shot 5 loads of premium cream into his throat, but it was too much for him to take and he had to cough practically bringing some of the alpha juice back up through nose and mouth. I didn’t care whether he would suffocate at the spot and held him in place until my last drop was out. Then, I let go of his head and fell back onto the couch, totally satisfied with the world and my little fag boy. He was coughing and tried to pull in the snot-cum mixture running out of his nostrils. “When you’re done over there, clean me up” I ordered and it didn’t take him a second to crawl onto the couch and lick my rod and my pubic area clean. I just looked at him shortly. He was a mess with cum on his lips, his chin and his own sweat from the high effort he put in, but he obeyed my orders anyhow. 

When he was done, I just said “I am going upstairs now. You can now do whatever you like, but I expect you to be back in no more than 10 minutes and fetch me a coke on your way. You have been a good cock sucker today and I plan on using you more often now when I’m around. Remember how you’re supposed to treat me from now on, even with your friends around.” He still kneeled when I left the room, but as it didn’t take him more than 3 minutes to return with my coke in his hand, I am sure he didn’t need much time to help himself. The night got quite pleasant with having Chris around. I wasn’t commanding him around, it was more of a subtle “Oh, my coke is empty already” and before I even put in effort to get up, he was already on his toes “Mine too, gonna grab one for you, too” and when he put it in front of me, I jokingly said things like “It’s actually convenient to have someone serve you” and he took the joke, bowed like a butler and responded “at your service, Sir”. Everyone laughed, but no one caught the truth behind. When we were only a few people left and sat at the fire side, I even pushed our luck a little further and said to no one in particular “shit, my feet are killing me. Those Vans sure are comfortable, but my feet ache after a day with them on. Those foot massages during my last vacation sure were a treat. I’d kill for one now…” Chris took the hint immediately and said “well, I know how to give a good one and I wouldn’t mind if you don’t feel uncomfortable about it, Sir” again half bowing while seated to make it sound like a joke. At this point, no one even paid attention as the remaining people were talking or watching the fire absentmindedly, so I slipped off my Vans and brought my black Adidas crew socks up to the boy’s lap. His eyes were shining, he started massaging and whenever no one was looking into his direction he brought his nose just a liiiittle closer to take a whiff. I was relaxed and amused about how the night had turned out so surprisingly naughty and I think Chris was the happiest fag boy on earth…

No part 2! 😉