Gustavo Finds Himself A Fag-Slave

"Oh yes, baby, give me more of those soft kisses." Yo, she's so soft. I love just twirling her hair and seeing her make out with me. I love seeing her kind of crawl up to me, her hair dangling, her tits almost dangling out of her bra, God she is gorgeous. "You are so beautiful." I love to spoil her with affection- she's like my Queen.

"I love you too, baby." I love when she crawls up on me and speaks into my lips like that. She knows how to rub her hand into my chest, make me feel good, make me feel like a man. 

I didn't see myself finishing out college with a girlfriend, but you know, I really like it. The past three years of fucking basic-ass sorority bitches get's really fucking old. At least in the summers going back down to Brazil I can pull some of the older women. Angela's kind of like a beautiful mix of both. She's not older, she's a junior, but she acts like she is. She's wise and smart and beautiful, she's far from basic. I needed to meet a rich latina girl totally not involved in greek life. I got it. 

We kept making out. Ow. Faggot nearly bit me. "Watch what the fuck you're doing!" I took my foot out of his mouth and banged it on his bitch-ass head. Want to piss off me off? Want to have a 6'5", 260 lbs, ripped-ass dude on you? Interrupt me when I'm making out with my girl. This faggot's really the only one who has the privilege of being around me when I'm intimate with my girl. When her and I are together at night, I'm all in her world, and she's in mine, but probably more so with me.

"Kiss me harder, Gustavo." I think I'm starting to love Angela because she's the first girl who really makes me work for it. Yeah I love playing King, and I still am her King, but it's nice for a change being wrapped around someone else's finger. She really is my fucking Queen and I will protect her to the death. She's teaching me that all these girls these past years, coming up to and running up to me like I'm the Rock, really just can't cut it for something bigger and better.

I leaned back on the couch further, feeling my dick harden just watching my sexy Queen climb her 5'8" gorgeous body up on me. What the couch is to me, I basically become to her, she has all fours on, her hands up on my shoulders and chest, treating me like her King, rubbing and caressing me, her knees just beside my crotch getting me even harder. Then of course to make this all perfect is fucking faggot boy down there wedging his ugly-ass face in between the soles of my feet.

I told Angela from the beginning that I have a regular faggot. She didn't care, she thought it was hot that I'm just that type of man capable of making a weaker man his bitch. She thinks it's especially hot in moments like this, where she gets to love me like her King, who's at the same time having his feet worshipped by his faggot.

"Yeah, lick those soles boy." God what he does feels so good. My feet get sore and sweat like crazy, even now, after deciding not to do football this year, I still get home after class a sweaty mess. But faggot's there. He waits. He knows my schedule. He's only allowed to leave the apartment when he has class. He can't fail out. I need him, and on nights when I don't need him, I kick him out back to his dorm.

---

I met faggot last year when he started some trouble with my bro and roommate. Kid was only a sophomore, talking back to us with such disrespect, sassing us like he didn't know his place, he was with all his faggoty girlfriends trying to show off. Kid got so drunk at that bar he thought he was almost tough enough to lay a hand on my friend. Jordan's tough enough to take care of his own, but when I see someone get up in my friends faces, especially a faggot-ass like that, Hulk comes out. I took the kid by his arms, a head and a half shorter than me I dragged this kid out to the backside of the bar, all in front of his girlfriends who screamed and had no idea what to do. They didn't bother to follow him us outside. Jordan came with, and after I beat the kid's face a bit against the brick wall, I threw him to the ground and we started kicking the shit out of him. Faggot started to cry so we stopped and felt bad, we realized what we were doing. Jordan went back inside, as the door opened I could hear the faggot's bitches trying to get the barman to do something, little to they know I'm cool with the owners of that bar and can get away with almost anything. It's not bullying- faggot did lay his faggoty-ass hand on my friend. He started it.

The kid was so weak on the floor, shivering, so shaken he could barely cry, his face was just a mess of blood and tears. My compassionate side came out. I'm not Mother Theresa, but sometimes I have a heart. I picked the kid up, threw him on the shoulder, and carried him the few blocks to our place while Jordan was still at the bar. I sat him down on the kitchen chair, got some bandages, ice, and got him a glass of water. I sat down across to him.

"I'm sorry man, I went too much. But you gotta know absolutely nobody lays their hand on my friend like that..." I tried explaining sternly, but without yelling, "what the fuck were you thinking disrespecting us like that?" I almost wanted to smack him, not to further his pain, just to wake the kid up out of his tough-boy delusion. I think my beating let him know for sure already that he's no tough-boy. 

The kid just kind of whimpered and shaked. He tried to look up at me. One eye covered with the ice pack he was holding, he shot me a look with the other eye. Not afraid, he just looked confused. "What's your name?" I asked him.

He didn't answer. Kind of frustrated I got up and just paced to the living room and back for a second. "Fabio," he finally answered. I stood still and just looked at him, then down at my feet, my shoes were still on. These new, pristine white Nikes, thank God there was no blood on them. I looked back behind me then back at the kid. He watched my ankle as I shook my foot up and down out of nervousness. I slipped my one foot out of my shoe. "You have really big shoes," the kid told me.

"I know." I said back. How does one respond to that? He just kept staring as I slid my foot in and out of my shoe.

"They look nice. Maybe I should clean them since I probably got blood and dirt on them." There was no blood, a little dirt. I didn't say anything, I was just interested in the fact he offered to clean my shoes. The little devil in my head thought, Yeah, bitch, get to it, but I couldn't get myself to actually say that.

Without saying anything, the kid got up from the chair, putting his ice pack down on the table. He went over to our sink and grabbed a paper towel, wet it a bit, and then came to me, kneeling before my shoes, and gently dabbed the paper towel over the tops of my shoes. I kind of just looked down at him, over six feet down beneath me on the floor cleaning my shoes. Now this is some respect, I thought. It's almost like he made up for the bitch he was before, I almost totally forgave him and for a second wanted to befriend the kid, but that was short lived.

I slipped my foot out of the shoe he was cleaning, thinking to make it easier for him. All of a sudden his cleaning stopped and he fixed his head up looking at my toes. I kicked him in the forehead thinking, don't stop cleaning. "Sorry, I didn't mean to do that." I apologized. I tipped my toes back into my shoe as he got back to cleaning, but eyes didn't stop looking at my feet. 

It was kind of weird, so I slipped both feet out of those shoes and walked into the living room, leaving him in the kitchen to do his cleaning. I remember then stepping into the bathroom, I'd been needing to take a piss really bad. As I pissed I remembered the story one of the guys on the team told me about a faggot he kept around in high school who did his chores and what not all the time. I chuckled to myself thinking that I'd found myself in a similar situation.

Faggot must have not heard the door open to realize I was coming, because when I turned from the living room back into the kitchen guess who I find fucking nose deep in my shoe. "WHAT THE FUCK!" I must've screamed loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Faggot fucking jumped and backed away into the hallway looking at me petrified. Kid was caught fucking red handed being the faggot he is. I stood over my shoes, pointed down the floor, "Get the fuck over here. Where the fuck do you think you're going?" I talked to him like I was some teacher about to give him detention. That's almost what this felt like, except detention in this case meant something a little more extreme.

He knew from the tone of my voice not to mess with me, and he sort of tip-toed back, shivering again, petrified for his life what was about to happen. I wasn't going to beat him up, that thought didn't even come to my head. I didn't know what the fuck he was just doing, and frankly, it kind of interested me. He finally got about a person's distance away from me, and I looked down at him dead in his eyes. He shrugged and looked down to the floor. The kid couldn't be more than 5'8".

"What the fuck were you just doing?" I asked sternly.

"Nothing." He shrugged and couldn't look up.

"Nothing!" I almost bent down in face. "That didn't fucking look like nothing." I waited for a response, was naive enough to think I would get one. I hesitated for a bit thinking of what to do. I snapped and pointed back down into my shoe. "Get back down there. I wanna see exactly what the fuck I just caught you doing." He hesitated. "NOW!" Not willing to risk my rage any further he collapsed back down to a crawl on the floor, his head over the opening of my shoe. He looked down into the sole of my shoe for a second, before looking back up at me, looking at me like I was this dominant God about to punish him.

Should I do this? I did it. I rose my left leg and held the sole of my foot to his face. "So you're a foot faggot, aren't you?" I moved my socked foot around to the back of his head and then forced his face back into my shoe with full pressure. He had no choice but to breathe in the air in my shoe. "You like that?" No response. "I ASKED. DID YOU LIKE THAT?" He struggled to shrug his head yes, caught between the pressure of my sole and my shoe on the floor. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU."

"Yes, Sir!" He mumbled. He actually called me 'Sir'. I could get used to this. For about thirty seconds more I just held his face down in my shoe, watching and hearing the soft sound of him breathing in my foot air, watching him breath in that air like it was that of his God. It was almost like he was praying to me.

I was satisfied, watching him basically meditate in my shoe. I kicked his head, throwing him back so that he flopped over, his back to the floor, his face looking up at the ceiling. I made sure the next thing he saw was my giant socked foot, incoming down on his face. The kid even fucking squirmed, I made sure to keep enough pressure to watch him squirm more. "Smell it, faggot!" I watched him frantically smell the bottom of my sock, big, audible sniffs, knowing that his life depended on it. My foot dropping deeper into his face, just enough to hear him squeal. I didn't want to break his nose. "Kiss it!" I commanded. "KISS IT!" To the best of his power I could feel his lips moving on my foot. I can feel him trying to even move his face muscles under the weight.

What the fuck am I going to do with him? I thought. Am I giving faggot what he wants? What do I want out of this? I took my foot off his face and just stood in front, stood 6'5" tall above this puny-little, ground-ridden, gay-ass fuckboi. He looked up at me with the right amount of fear. "Come kiss them. Keep kissing them!" I watched him slowly crawl over to my feet, look at my shoes behind me, and plant soft, intimidated kisses on one foot, then the other. I wanted him to kiss harder but I liked watching him weak and terrified like this.

I picked up my one shoe and sat on the kitchen table. I'm so tall my feet still touch the ground. I leaned in to grab faggot by his neck and pull him towards me, shoving my shoe back on his face, pushing it in, scrunching it with all my might, until I knew his lips made contact with the sole. "Lick it faggot!" I watched him dutifully come to lick the soles of my shoe, making a small grimace as he did. "You fucking love it. Don't pretend like you don't." It was such a power rush to see this kid, who thought he was big enough to disrespect us, fucking reduced to a foot-sweat licking faggot. I felt like a faggot myself for enjoying this as much as I did. But hey, it felt good.

I dropped my shoe and now went to sit on the kitchen floor beside him. I dragged his head with me, keeping it basically plugged in to the arch of my foot. "You have really big feet, Sir."

"Yeah, I do. Size 15s." That's when the idea came to me. I'm not sure why I wanted it, but I did. I ripped my socks off and fed the faggot's face my bare feet, barely sweaty, but dry and musky. "Lick them clean faggot!"

He was shy at first. "LICK THEM!" I watched him pick up the pace cleaning my bare feet. He struggled to move his neck up and down, and cover the whole surface area of my soles. It felt kind of good. But what felt better was seeing him, knowing he was down there showing me proper respect like that. 

I played with his head. I shuffled my feet around his head like it were a soccer ball, watching him move trying to get his tongue to cover my heels, arches and soles. After a while, my feet actually felt really clean and good. I fed the bitch my feet for another twenty minutes, watching him really start to appreciate his work, get into it. That's when Jordan texted me that he was coming home soon, planning to bring home a girl.

I gave faggot one last kick in the head, "Alright, faggot. You're done for the day. Now, get the fuck out of here." He was off in a flash.

---

For the rest of the year we had kept it a secret. He clearly wanted no one to find out he was a foot-fag, and I wanted to keep it clear of Jordan to not make things weird. So it was during those weekend Jordan went home, or when he spent the night at his girlfriend's, or those Tuesdays and Thursdays Jordan had class for eight-hours straight, when I make faggot pay respectful visits. 

The kid was actually good at giving foot massages, and he didn't sweat it when he'd peel off my shoes to discover sweat-caked size 15 Brazilian feet after a long day of classes, football practice, etc. Faggot would just dig his face in loving every drop of my sweat. He'd spend hours rubbing, massaging, and kissing my sweat soaked socked feet.

Now it's been a few months. It's a new school year, and from the beginning I instructed faggot that he would be spending 90% of his time as my new single apartment, and should be ready to relinquish whatever free time he had. He happily agreed, this faggot is really pathetic for me. I don't even really have anymore sympathy, he's just a total pathetic faggot.

I'm kissing my girl, and he's down there licking my feet clean, making sure to clean off whatever sweat I had accumulated during the day. He knows that's his place. He's licked my feet and sucked my toes so many times that he's essentially a pro. But every now and then I like to train him to do something new, like he's doing right now.

Oh my god, it feels amazing. The combination of my Queen making out with me, and faggot sucking my each individual toe like his mouth were a vacuum, God I am truly the King. "Yeah, suck those toes, faggot." Sometimes Angela would chuckle when I treated faggot like the bitch he is. My tongue wiggling in Angela's mouth, my toes wiggling in faggot's mouth, ahhhh.

Angela kissed me on the cheek and just laid on my side, my arm around her. Together we just watched faggot do his thing, cleaning my big ass feet like it was how he stayed alive. "Hey, bitch, want to lick her toes today to?" I loved teasing him and watching him get nervous. He hated having to service a girl, but sometimes I make him do it, just because he hates it, and it's great to see it. "Alright, fine, not today then." I just pushed my feet further into his face, his licking got faster.

"Besides, Gustavo, baby..." Angela started, I looked back into her eyes so happily.

"Besides what, baby?" Her hand found her way south, and soon her fingers crawled into my pants. I titled my head up, blissfully sighing as she found my hard cock and gave it the finger work she does. Pulling my shorts down just enough, she gave me a kiss on the cheek and then found her way into my lap. Oh my God. My hand on the back of her head, she likes when I gently push her up and down on my cock. She likes when I make her choke just a little bit. It's so hot to see her lips work their way around me, even if she can only really take in half my cock at once. "Keep going, keep licking baby." Oh my God, it felt so good. "And you keep licking too faggot!" My tone changes to stern whenever I keep faggot in his place.