Chapter 8
Many of you were interested in my session with the older fag, as mentioned in the last chapter so here's the story. Follow in this old pigs footsteps and email to tribute.
He was a tourist. Only here for a week. Luckily for him, I finally said yes on his last night here. While I don't care much about the money, it is a symbol of my power and superiority over faggots and when his particular bitch offered me a large sum of $$$ I knew how desperate he was to worship me and that desperation and inferiority is what I want to see.
I walked over to his fancy hotel making my feet and socks all sweaty and smelly. I told him to come out while I took the longer route there just to make him wait like a fucking dog. I love playing these games because I always win. I saw him, and with just a second of eye contact he knew to lower his gaze. I followed him inside,in the elevator and up to his room.
"Shall we get started?" I said.
"Ye sir." He replied and starting taking off his jackets.
"Come on faggot. Hurry up! Don't have all night."
He immediately got down to a single layer of clothing- not interested in it's genatelia- and kneeled down to kiss my white sneakers. I'd worn the dirtiest ones I could find. I hadn't worn these in a few months because an alpha like me wasn't going to clean my shoes and I didn't have fag Jason at the time. He started licking the dry dirt and the stains on top of my shoes while I got myself comfortable on the couch.
I watch him and I see a man, with a dick and balls, much like myself, somebody established in life, much older than me, somebody who has lived and learned and travelled and yet here he is licking up the most disgusting shit from under my soles. But I also see a faggot at its most natural state, he is happy, overjoyed even to lick those shoes because they are attached to me; a young powerful alpha, his superior, who finally gave him the previlege of worship me. That bitch is in bliss under my domination. I realize that's my power. I'm powerful. I could make him do anything.
The dirt under soles turned to mud wet with his saliva. I wiped it all over the fag's face and slapped him with my foot.
"That spot doesn't look so clean bitch. Get to work!"
"Yes sir." He said and started licking.
"Faster!"
He licked faster.
I kicked it's head.
"Bitch I said faster!"
I kicked it's head again and again and made it go faster and faster while I spit on him. After about thirty minutes, his whole face and head was covered in spit. Then I gave him permission to get take off my shoes. He was sniffing my foul smelling socks when I kicked him hard.
"Bitch get me my money"
He took out some bills from his wallet and handed it to me. I put them in my pocket and let him smell my socks. After about 10 minutes of that when he tried to take off my socks, I kicked it's hand away and said, "That's it I'm leaving now."
I saw a look of panic on it's face, so disappointed that he didn't get to worship my bare feet. He grabbed my feet and started begging me to let him worship my feet.
"It'll cost you faggot."
"Anything sir."
And that's how I stayed another 20 minutes and let him worship my bare feet. Occasionally I'll push my feet inside his mouth until it gagged. I spit a few times on the floor for it to lick up.
By the time I left, I had extracted $700 dollars from that old pig. I blew through it in 3 days because after that day I knew I'll always have more. I had gone from a kid who discovered the hierarchy to a young master who embodied it.
The first thing I did when I got back was piss on Faggot Jason. I made him wash up in my piss as a mark of my territory. I owned him fully. There was no going back now.
End of Chapter 8
If you worthless fag's want to give your life some meaning. Get in touch via sjagat395@gmail.com and make a tribute. Happy Jerking pigs!