The next morning, I awoke early and before getting started on any morning chores, I went toy bedroom and found my copy of the Declaration of Dependence I wrote several weeks prior. I thought it a good idea to reground myself after yesterday’s events.
Then I went to take a leak and check out my wounds in the bathroom mirror. I had several lacerations from the single tail, and a few black and blue bruises. My face was crusty from dried cum. It was a small price to pay, I would die on a sword for my King, the center of my universe.
I decided I would laminate this faggot manifesto when I went to work and leave one on my desk, one in my bedroom, one in the kitchen, the laundry room, and anywhere else I could to have a constant reminder of my faggot vows.
I was waking gingerly that morning, it was a struggle, but I pushed through. I started coffee and kneeled beside Sir Jace’s bedside to accept his morning piss. Sir rose with much energy that morning, a full stretch and an enthusiasm I hadn’t seen in a few days. Beating me and then fucking me seemed to be that special spark my Sir needed to feel reinvigorated.
“Good Morning, faggot.”
I opened my mouth and took in my Sir’s cock and in seconds was drinking up his urine. Not a spilled drop as I gulped it down my gullet, savoring the tangy and pungent liquid.
“How are you feeling this morning, faggot? Are you sore?”
“I am, Sir, but I’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me, Sir.”
“Faggot, you are my property, of course I’m going to worry about you. I care a lot about my possessions. I went hard on you last night, you’re bruised.”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle, Sir.”
“We’ll make sure you put some ointment on those wounds, I don’t need you getting any infections. Is my coffee ready?”
“Yes Sir, I’ll pour you a cup.”
“I’m going to shower, I’ll be out in a minute. I want an omelet today.”
I ran off to get the paper, then began to cut up some ham and cheese so that when Sir shave was reading the paper and drinking coffee I’d make his omelet. I also bagged his lunch.
I never get tired of seeing my Sir, my King, every morning in his boxer briefs. That body is that of a warrior, a brawny beard, fur covered chest, he’s a cross between Cutler X and FullMetalTwunk. A man like this can fuck any faggot he wants. I am honored and humbled that I am his, I belong to him, I serve him, he is the center of my life’s purpose. I have to stop myself from staring at him.
Sir ate his breakfast so quickly, I barely had enough time to iron his clothes. I rushed to prepare his to go mug of coffee. He dropped my cell phone on the small table by the front door, and left for his workday.
I made sure to clean the kitchen and tend to myself and made it to work. My ass sure was hurting sitting at my desk all morning long. I had to walk around some just to get off of it for even a few minutes.
After an hour or so, I couldn’t help but think about what happened the night before, and the idea of Sir Jace sending a pic of my cum-covered face to my mother, or all over his social media. I looked around my office and said to myself, “everyone in this office knows I’m a faggot. What would be the big deal if a pic of me would be shared on social media?” I didnt remember signing any code of conduct document that would get me fired if I became an infamous faggot in the webisphere.
My desk phone rang and brought me back down to earth. It was my mother.
“Hello son. You never pick up your phone after work anymore. What’s going on with you? Is that man treating you well? It’s like you’ve disappeared from the face of the earth!”
I had to hold the phone away from my ear, she was speaking very loudly and not taking a breath.
“I’m fine mother. I do not have phone privileges at night, mother. I’m fine, mother. Stop worrying about me.”
“Phone privileges? You are not a child! That’s it, I’m taking your sister with me and taking you to lunch. I don’t like the sound of this, Richard!”, and then she hung up the receiver so I had no chance to refuse the invitation.
My mother is a very stubborn woman who does not take no for an answer. I contemplated texting Sir Jace. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to go to lunch with my mother or my sister without his approval.
I texted him right away.
“Good Morning, Sir. I’m so sorry to bother you at work, Sir. Just wanted to ask if it would be alright for me to have lunch with my mother and sister today?”
My cell phone rang within 30 seconds after I hit send.
“Hello Sir!”
“How did your mother contact you, faggot? I didn’t get any notification that she texted or called you on this phone? How do I know you’re not lying to me?”
“Sir, I am not lying. My mother called my work phone. I swear.”
“Where are you going? What time? I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go with them without me. I don’t trust that woman.”
“I’ll text you, Sir when they tell me where to meet them.”
“No, that won’t work. I’m going to call your sister now and we’ll go to lunch on my terms or you won’t be going to lunch at all.”
Within ten minutes Sir texted me where to meet him at 12:15. When I arrived to the intersection, my leash was in his hand. I was sort of surprised that he went all the way home to get it.
“Hello Sir”, I said as I approached him.
I dared not protest the leash, I recalled my faggot Declaration and knew better than to resist. Sir Jace clipped the leash on my collar and we walked briskly to the bistro with a purpose.
My sister and mother were already seated at the table and my mother’s jaw was open wide in disbelief. My sister just laughed and rolled her eyes.
I pulled out the chair opposite my mother for my Sir, who did not bother to unclip the leash. He tied it to the base of the table. He sat down and turned to me, “you may sit down, faggot.”
“Must you talk to my son like that in public?”
“Yes, I’ve told you many times, I will never use your son’s given name as long as he is my possession, and lovely to see you, too, Mary (my mother). Then Sir Jace winked at my sister, “you’re looking well, my dear.”
Our waiter sensed some tension at our table and temporarily eased it by taking drink orders. Sir ordered me an iced tea he ordered a beer. I assumed he wasn’t going to work.
My mother didn’t hold back.
“Listen up, this nonsense must stop at once. You cannot keep my son a prisoner in your house! Why can’t he use his phone at night?”
“Faggot, why don’t you tell your mother why you cannot be trusted to use your phone at night?”
“Mother, Sir Jace found pornography, inappropriate pictures and videos of me, and gay hook up apps on my phone. I am only allowed to use it during the workday to text or call you, Emily or my Sir.”
“You see, Mary, you think I’m a bad influence on your son, but as you heard for yourself, I’m only protecting him from himself.”
“I keep telling you, mom, Jace is a good man. It’s your son who can’t be trusted. You never want to believe me!”
“You stay out of this Emily! This is between me and this man who is controlling my son, who is still your brother in case you’ve forgotten! And Richard, when were you going to tell me you moved? And why have you cleaned out your bank account? Are you stealing from my son!”
“Faggot, tell your mother about your finances.”
“I live with Sir Jace now in his home. To help pay for the expenses, I’ve signed over my savings and paycheck to my Sir. I did this on my own, I was not coerced. I promise you mother.”
“You see, again Mary, you think I’m a beast? I put a good roof under your son’s head and keep him safe. You should be thanking me. Let’s be honest, your son is not a man, he’s a faggot and faggots need a firm hand. They need guidance, they need correction. I told you many times I look after my possessions.”
Emily couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
“Mom, you know Jace is right. Richard was always getting into trouble. You remember that time he almost got arrested for public indecency? At least you don’t have to worry about that anymore. This is a good thing, mom. Open your mind for Pete’s sake!”
“Emily, that’s enough out of you. I should never have let you go to that liberal college filling your head with so much nonsense. You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
The waiter cane to bring our drinks and take a food order. Sir ordered me French fries and chicken tenders while he ordered the deluxe burger and onion rings, then he ordered a second beer.
“Why are you parading my son around on a leash in public? That’s not right. Richard, why do you let this man do that?”
Oh my, my mother was like a dog with a bone, she wouldn’t let go!
“Faggot, tell your mother why you need to be led around on a leash in public.”
“Mother, I cannot be trusted not to stray away from my Sir when we are out of the house. Also, I’m proud to be tethered to my King for everyone to see. He is the center of my universe.”
“There you have it, Mary. From your own son’s lips. He wants to be on my leash. In fact, I think it was his idea after one of our nights out at the bar and I couldn’t find him.”
“Richard, what do you mean, your King? This isn’t England, there is no King here!
“Faggot, tell your mother the truth, have I ever forced you to refer to me as your King?”
“No mother, I’ve never been forced. But I do worship Sir Jace like a God, like a King, so I call him that willingly.”
“You see, Mary, none of this is forced on your son. Your son is my faggot now. Hey, faggot maybe you should tell your mother about your declaration of dependence that you wrote. For the record, I did not ask him to write it.”
“Enough, I think I get the picture, his mother said.”
Emily said, “I want to hear all about it! What did you write?
I looked at Sir Jace for permission to speak.
“Go on, tell your sister.”
“I wrote that I committed to serve Sir in all ways; to clean his house, do his laundry, iron his clothes, cook his meals and do all the grocery shopping, that I would be silent and speak only when given permission or to answer a question, that I would contribute financially to the household, that I would always think about how to please my Sir from the minute I wake up to the minute a fall asleep and that I would fulfill Sir’s sexual needs. There is more but I will spare those details. That is my faggot manifesto.”
“Oh my God, Richard, you are really into this!”, Emily said. “I mean I had a sense you were always submissive when we were growing up, but you’ve taken things to the next level.”
“Richard, that does not sound like a legally binding contract, you can leave and come home with me. I promise your father will not ask any questions.”
“I knew it! I told my faggot you would be up to something. Faggot, if you want to leave, my house is not a prison!”
“Sir, no, no, I have no intention of leaving you. I am fully committed!” I unbuttoned my shirt and showed my mother and Emily my “King Jace’s FAGGOT”, tattoo on my chest. I needed to shut my mother up for once and for all!
“Richard, what the hell did you do? Why would you do such a thing to desecrate your body?”
“Faggot, tell your mother why you have that tattoo on your chest.”
“After I wrote my declaration of dependence, my Sir wanted to do something special to acknowledge my commitment. I did not protest. I allowed it, I am proud to wear it and I’ve been seen in public already mother.”
My mother put her head in her hands and Emily laughed and said the tattoo was cool.
“What did I do to deserve this? My own son. I just don’t understand. So disgraceful, so degrading. I’m so ashamed to call you my son.”
My mother pushed her plate of food away. All of this had ruined her appetite.
“Mary, you should be proud of your son…my faggot. He is being his authentic self. This is who your son is. He is not a man. He is a faggot! Maybe I should show you these pics on my phone from last night so you see for yourself. Maybe you need to see them so you give up this idea that your son has any semblance of a man!”
“Of course my son is a man! He has testicles and a penis, he shaves his face!”
“Faggot, tell your mother about your penis and your body hair. Are you a man?”
“No mother, I am Sir Jace’s faggot. My penis has been locked in chastity for almost a full year. I shave all my body hair, faggots do not have hair, only men have body hair.”
“Again, Mary, look at it. Your son is gone forever. Take a look at this!”
Sir Jace held up a picture of my face plastered in cum with Chad’s cock resting on my chin.
“Would a real man do this? No, I don’t think so. That is your son. Last night, Mary! Now he’s my faggot and you need to learn to live with that! Now I’ve had enough.”
Sir Jace threw $80 in cash on the table, stood up and pulled on the leash. We walked outside.
“I’m taking you back to work, then I’m going home. Your mother pisses me off, faggot! It’s not your fault. She just doesn’t want to accept you for who you are. Your sister is cool, though. I like her.”
I just listened as I was not invited into the discussion.
Sir unclipped the leash in the lobby of my building.
“See you later, faggot.”
My office mates were so used to this by now it was not a big deal any longer.
As I sat at my desk, I thought about my mother’s face when Sir Jace showed her that picture. She was mortified, I was excited to have been exposed. I no longer had to hide under this deep feeling of shame.
I texted Sir Jace, “thank you, Sir”
“For what, faggot?”
“For freeing me from shame, Sir. I am proud to be your faggot, my King!”
“You’re welcome, faggot. See you later.”
I raced home. I needed to be physically close to my Sir. I had an inexplicable desire to feel Sir Jace ejaculate in my mouth.
When I arrived home, Sir was watching ESPN on his throne. I stripped and handed my phone over to him. After a minute, satisfied I’d not used my phone for any unauthorized activity, he turned it off and set it down.
I looked at him.
“You need to say something, faggot?”
“Yes, please Sir, may I blow you?”
“I don’t see why not? Go ahead, suck my dick.”
I knelt between Sir’s thighs and pulled his shorts down to his ankles exposing his cock to me. I took his shaft in my hand and swirled my tongue around the head to wake it up. When it was nice and hard, I rose, and formed a nice seal around the head with my lips, then I descended lower a few more inches. I held it right there for a minute. Then I held Sir Jace’s thighs and plunged all the way down until my nose was in his bush and my chin had hit his balls. I noticed Sir Jace had stopped trimming his pubes and stopped shaving his balls, both were prickly, but that did not stop me.
Once I hit bottom, I inhaled deeply to take in his scent, that scent I dream about all day and all night. And then I did what I know my Sir likes, sloppy, deep throating, no hands, no teeth, no gagging. Up and down I went up that shaft my mouth had serviced hundreds of times. I could spot this cock in a dick line-up I knew every vein, every cranny, the shape of its head, its exact girth. My throat wrapped around Sir’s cock like a glove.
I didn’t prolong this blowjob, I still had to cook a meal, so I upped my pace and twisted Sir’s nipples. Sir planted his hand on the back of my head and thrust his cock upward into my throat. It took all of seven minutes, but I got Sir Jace to empty his balls down my throat.
With my need to blow him, to taste his seed, sated, I cooked a spectacular meal and tended to my chores…it was an eventful day with a wonderful ending.
