I know, I know. Part 8 and we're only at halftime. I promise you the postgame show will be worth the wait. In the mean time, please consider a donation to Nifty. This site's existence not only allows us to share our erotic fantasies with each other but to sit there alone in the dark getting excited reading the stories of others. If that doesn't deserve our support, I don't know what does.
Part 8
Master Rob continued to feed me, alternating between swallowing a piece of his steak (he did compliment me on cooking it perfectly; he always has been good with the praise, when it's earned) and dropping a partially chewed piece into my mouth. It seemed as if the other eight eyes in the room were locked on him every time he cut a piece of steak, hoping to see the show. Master Rob had made it clear that my food comes only from him, and this new level of faggot degradation clearly had their attention.
"Hey Rob, does your fag need anything to wash down all that meat?" asked Garrett. "The urinal does not close during meals," Master Rob responded. So Garrett got up and walked around the table to where I was kneeling next to Master Rob. "This is so fucking hot," Garrett said, earning a sharp, "Do it if you're going to do it," from Master Rob.
Garrett held his dick about an inch from my mouth. "Open up, faggot. I know you must be thirsty," he said. I opened and looked straight into his eyes while I waited for his stream to start flooding my mouth. It took a few seconds, and I figured he must be new at this. Funny how it's so easy for a straight guy to get used to the idea of shoving his dick in a fag's hole but his mind can't get him to piss in one right away. This wasn't the first case of stage fright I had encountered, but the other guests were impatient. They wanted to see the fag get used. Eric started humming the "Final Jeopardy" song, which got a chuckle out of everyone but Master Rob.
"I had trouble the first time, too," he told Garrett. "Just relax and it will flow."
Garrett seemed relieved Master Rob wasn't angry with him, and sure enough after a few more seconds a little dribble of warm piss was leaking from his piss slit. Of course, my mouth wasn't where it was dribbling, and I knew what that would mean when Garrett was done. But he quickly started a real stream, aimed at my mouth, and I took it all in. A couple of "damns" and one "holy shit" was heard from the table; anyone who used me as a urinal during the first half had put his dick into my mouth to piss, but watching this was different to them somehow. When the stream began to peter out, Garrett placed the head of his dick on my tongue so I wouldn't lose any more of it. "Lick it clean," he said when he was done, and of course I was all set to do that anyway.
"Now get the mess on the floor," Master Rob commanded. And everybody watched as I dropped down and lapped up the first few driblets of piss Garrett had spilled onto the floor.
"Now I've got to piss," Danny said. And the hot college boy came over and did exactly as Garrett did, holding his dick an inch or so from my face and aiming for my wide-open mouth. He got his flow going right away, making me wonder how often he had done this before, and the result was no mess at all on the floor and all of the liquid gold for me. I could almost feel Master Rob's chest swelling with pride as his faggot was doing such a good job taking care of his guests. Nick followed Danny, giving me the nastiest-tasting stream of piss yet, but Eric didn't feel the need.
"Faggot, go get the squares sheet," Master Rob said, and I crawled over to retrieve the picks they had done before the game. I couldn't see it, but Master Rob gestured toward me as I was crawling, and Garrett took the hint and gave my ass a good slap. It wouldn't have hurt much except for the spanking I had earlier, so it stung a bit. But nobody else hit me until I got the sheet and started crawling back to Master Rob, when both Nick and Garrett took a good shot at me. I whimpered (knowing Master Rob loves that sound) and delivered the sheet to Master Rob and waited.
"Well boys, it looks as if Nick has won the second quarter. So Nick, you are in Position Two. But again, if you win one of the last two you can take the better spot and put someone else there."
As Master Rob had not explained what any of that meant, nobody said anything. But he had another announcement. "Boys, you might remember Danny and Garrett were the top two spit golfers. Well, not it's time for their reward. Faggot, you go into the bathroom and wait. I will give Danny and Garrett instructions before they join you. You will be spending the third quarter in the bathroom at their service."
Damn. Aside from Master Rob, the college boy and the swimmer were my favorites, and I was going to be their bitch for the third quarter. That's easily a half-hour, maybe a bit more, to be alone with them. I was practically twitching as I began to crawl past the kitchen and into the bathroom to await my temporary masters.
"Boys, here's the deal. There is lube and some toys on the shelves in there. Do whatever you want with him with the following exceptions -- no scat play, do NOT make him bleed, and do not let him clean up when you're done. Got it?" When Master Rob gives instructions, even other men know enough to listen.
"We got it, Rob. And thanks!" Garrett said, as he and Danny got up from the table.
"Enjoy yourselves," Master Rob said, high-fiving each of them. "I'll knock on the door when the quarter is over."
END OF PART 8