Twisted sub

The humble faggot was struggling with the weight of its Owner as it crawled from garage to dining room, the spurs digging into its sides, the crop used enthusiastically to encourage it. Once inside, just for fun, SIR made it do a circuit of the downstairs living quarters driving to to the point of collapse, before directing it to His chair at the head of the table. He dismounted and clicked his fingers the signal for the servant to pull out the chair for Him and help its Owner to sit. it then stood up and poured SIRs wine which had been opened earlier and left to breathe...just as SIR liked it. SIR sipped it and nodding His approval told it to proceed. the fag was about to run to the kitchen when SIR called it back...'BEND OVER SLUT', the faggot was rewarded with the cork being stuck up its cunt. 'KEEP THAT UNTIL I TELL IT TO REMOVE IT PUSSY' The faggot had worked hard preparing SIR's dinner. He just needed to grill His steak. SIR demanded it medium/rare and it had been punished more than once for overcooking it. Last time, not wanting to waste the meat completely, SIR had ordered His property to bury the overcooked steak in His garden. 2 days later the puppy dug it up and was forced to eat the filthy, spoiled piece of meat..its only food for the day. So when it served SIRS dinner it held its breath as He cut, SIR said nothing, but clicked His fingers, the signal for fag to get under the table. the fag was so relieved, SIRs silence the only thanks it needed for its work.  OK MY LITTLE PRINCESS, IT MAY SLOWLY LICK MY CRITCH...DONT GET TOO EXCITED BITCH, NICE N SLOW, TAKE ITS TIME'. the faggot blushed at being called a little princess, knew it was SSIR's way of reminding it that it had no control over how it was seen, its identity. Knew SIR could have it prancing around like a girly slut one minute and transformed into His fight hound the next. fags have no control over such things, SIR decides. Object or living creature. Masculine, feminine or animal. it sniffed the leather deeply, slowly traced its tongue from SIR's seat to His waste. The bulge of His cock and balls teasing the faggot, making it whine pathetically, trying to tease SIRS zip open with its teeth, needy pup, addicted to its God. SIR slapped it gently. 'LATER FAGGOT, IT'S GOING TO GET A TREAT AFTER DINNER IF SHE IS A GOOD GIRL'. SIRS, leather gloved hands tickled the fag behind the ear and it groaned in pleasure. Next a piece of the fat from the steak was held to its mouth, it went to snatch it between its teeth but SIR pulled it back...'NOT SO QUICK MY GREEDY FAGGOT PUP, BEG, COME ON GIRL...BEG! pup stuck its tongue out and panted and whined pathetically like it had been taught, held its paws up in a begging position, making SIR smile and pat its head. Held the food closer so His puppy could take it gently in its mouth from His hand. A few pieces of potato and some salad followed, all fed to the pup in the same way. the pup knew it must have done a good job with dinner as it got more than usual and was even rewarded further when SIR put His plate down on the floor for pup to lick clean. 

SIRs boot found its way into His pups crotch and the pup couldn't help but start to hump it, its little clit, stuffed away in chastity but still it couldn't help trying to rub it which always made SIR laugh. Sometimes He would order the fag to do this for hours just for His amusement, there was something so perverted, so desperate, so animalistic about the pup frantically rubbing its locked dicklet against His Superior leather that made SIR rock hard. He loved the moment when after an hour of this He might say 'OK THATS ENOUGH PUP, PUT IT AWAY' leaving the horny puppy groaning with lust and the need to shoot...ignored. Or He might give it 1 minute to shoot its faggy load and laugh as it frantically tried to meet the time limit, humping in sight everything like a true slutty whore. . Once the fag had cleared away, washed the dishes, tidied the kitchen, it crawled back to SIR in the Living Room. He clicked His fingers...'WHISKY' fag ran and poured 2 fingers, neat, as SIR liked it, and presented it to Him. 'CIGAR' ...fag crawled to the humidor which it maintained for SIR and took one of His big asylum cigars out, prepared it as it had been taught and then held it up for SIR to take it in His mouth. SIR lit a match and then stuck the dry end into His fags mouth, transforming it into a lighter. He puffed thick clouds of smoke into the fags face as He lit it, watching the flame creep nearer and nearer to the fags mouth. He knew even if it started to burn the fag wouldn't drop it, it had been conditioned too well. So just as the flame was about to burn the fag lips He inhaled deeply and blew smoke in the fags face, blowing the match out,  telling the faggot to swallow the burnt remains of the match. 'FOOTSTOOL, ASHTRAY' was all He needed to say for the faggot to get into position on all 4's, mouth open. SIRS boots thumped heavily onto its back, the cigar was held to its open mouth, ash flicked in. the faggot focused on being the best footstool, the best ashtray, it could for SSIR as He watched a film on TV, ignoring the faggot until He had finished His cigar. 

Time to test His faggots pussy control. 'PUSH THAT CORK OUT OF ITS CUNT SLOWLY BITCH, IT BETTER NOT DROP IT, I JUST WANT TO SEE THE END STICKING OUT'. the faggot strained its trained pussy, until it felt the cork from the wine bottle poke out of its hole. 'GOOD GIRL, STOP THERE AND STAY PERFECTLY STILL, DONT MOVE A MUSCLE BITCH'. the faggot focused on controlling its pussy, tightening as it has been taught. SIR then lent forward and ground his cigar out on the end of the cork, the faggot could hardly breathe as it felt some embers drop on to its butt cheeks, but it was well trained, didn't move. Once the cigar was extinguished, SIR used it to first stuff the cork back in the hole and then the cigar stub, the fag would feel even fuller soon but for now He sat back and enjoyed the rest of His programme, amusing Himself by occasionally nudging His fags balls with His boot...eating an apple and then feeding the fag the half chewed core, 

SIR reached into his holster and pulled out His pistol, hard, cold steel. He remembered when He had first shown it to His fag. The wide eyed fear mixed with lust, the way it had pissed itself in terror, the care it had taken when He had told it to suck the barrels. SIRs eyes locked with the faggots, What He saw there: trusting, submissive, obedient, in awe, worshipful. Time to step it up. He held it to the faggots head, making it jump, making it whine. Being in the presence of SIR with His gun once again made the faggot piss itself. SIR chuckled, slapped his faggot in mock anger but really enjoying the natural reaction from his inferior to its Superior. it would slurp it all up later but for now He let it kneel in its waste. Then traced the gun slowly down its spine. The fag could barely breathe at this display of power. Gasped when it stopped at its hole...waited....panting now...'READY PUP?' it panted out..'Yes SIR, thank You SIR. Yet still SIR, teased it, tantalised it, prodding, stroking, circling, until finally He pushed it hard into the faggot cunt making it groan, making it dizzy, making it fall in love with its Owner even more. 

Part 3 to follow