Team Player
Last update
2021-08-24 03:36:32

    Now when I say go you’re going to get a whole 60 seconds with my feet. If you want to kiss them, sniff them, or wash them that’s up to you. Be warned though that if you choose to wash them you better wash them both. If you are in the middle of washing, and washing is all you do, I’ll even extend your time to let you finish. But if you clean only one and then stop to lick, sniff, or whatever else your filthy foot fucker face wants, then at the end of the 60 seconds the clean foot will crush your balls while you lick the dirty foot clean.

    Any questions? Good. 3...2...1...GO!


    Me and Matt taken by Parsa


    He was staring. He was staring at me, and when he saw that I had noticed he whispered something to his friend who smirked and started staring too. I shifted uncomfortably, “Do you boys uh...need something?”

    “Boys?” He shook his head with disapproval, “Try again. Go ahead, ask us if there is anything we need, but do it with respect.”

    I nodded with understanding, “Is there anything I can do for you, gentlemen?”

    His friend tapped his shoe, “Better, that works for him, but I’m not really gentle. What do you think bro? Would you call me gentle?”

    “No,” He shook his head, “I really wouldn’t.”

    “Try again,” His friend demanded, “and this time imagine that you just licked the bottom of my shoe before you choose what to say.”

    I couldn’t help it, my eyes darted down to his friend’s big shoes and my tongue poked through my lips. I managed to pull my tongue back, but not before both of them saw. I gulped, “Please...uh...Sirs,” I nodded at them, “is there anything I can do to be of service?”

    The two of them exchanged a glance, and whatever passed between them caused them both to chuckle. “You owe me an apology,” He sounded stern despite his smile, “for calling me a boy, and you owe my friend here, for calling him gentle. Do you disagree?”

    “No Sir,” I responded quickly, “I’m very sorry Sir. I’m very sorry to you too Sir,” I nodded to his friend. My nods turned into more of a bow, “Please, if there is anything I can do to make it up to either of you...”

    “Yeah,” He nodded, “that’s it. You start out in our debt, at a deficit. You offended us, now you owe us, we don’t even begin as equals.”

    It wasn’t really a question, so I just looked down at their shoes and muttered, “Yes Sir.”

    “As far as how you can make it up to us: you can meet us here two more times. On your third time meeting us here you will be considered forgiven. After that...”

    “Tell me,” His friend held up his hand and chimed in, “what kind of underwear are you wearing right now, and are you currently wearing a butt plug or cock cage?”

    “What?” I glanced up in shock but immediately felt the need to look back at their shoes, “I’m uh...wearing boxers and no, I’m not wearing either of those. Sorry again Sir.”

    His friend looked at him, “Better make him meet us here three more times bro. Given what he’s wearing, and not wearing, this time shouldn’t count. Don’t you think?”

    He just shrugged, “You hear that? You gotta meet us here three more times in order to make everything up to us, and you have to be wearing tighty whities and a butt plug or a cock cage for it to count. We will, of course, need to inspect what you are wearing so you decide what’s easiest of the two.”

    His friend nodded, “Or you could always wear both, you know, if you’re really sorry. Just understand what kind of expectation you’ll be setting. If you do wear only one,” He shot a knowing smirk at his bro, “keep in mind that we can feel a cage through your pants, but you’ll have to show us a butt plug.

    “Now fuck off,” He said, “we’ll see your sorry ass here tomorrow at this time. Don’t try to pretend that you don’t own a butt plug or a cock cage and that tomorrow is too soon, because we know you own at least one of them. We will see you here, tomorrow, and you will be dressed to earn our forgiveness and favor.”


    “Who smells?” He demanded.

    “Me,” I gasped.

    His fist collided firmly with the side of my stomach, “Who smells?” He shook my throat.

    “Me!” I insisted, “I smell!”

    “You smell like shit,” He hit me again, “but not even my shit smells. Nothing about me smells, does it?” He shook my throat so my head swung side to side.

    “That’s right. You don’t...” I coughed, “I’m sorry...please...”

    “If anyone around here smells like they shit their pants it’s you,” He jolted his fist forward, but didn’t connect.

    Like a total wimp my entire body still jumped, and I even felt a small squirt of piss fire out into my underpants. “I smell like shit,” I rapidly assured him, “please, that fart must have been me. It was only a joke, I’m sorry.”

    “Damn right you’re sorry,” He squeezed my throat, “and you’re going to make it up to me.”

    “Yes!” I tried to nod, “Anything you want I’ll do it. Please, I’m sorry!”

    “I want you to piss your pants,” He sounded serious.

    He squeezed and released my throat, forcing me to gasp, “Please...”

    “I want you to piss your pants in front of everyone like a total wimp. Those guys are going to see that, when it comes to opinions on who shit their pants, you have zero integrity. You will restore my reputation with those guys at the expense of your own, do you hear me?”

    “Yes, I hear you!” I tapped his shoulder to show him my submission, “I hear you! I’ll do whatever you say.”

    “Good,” He eased up on my throat, even giving it a massage, “one more thing. Later tonight you will kiss my bare ass. You will comment, believably, that it smells good. You will erase all doubt about who stinks. Now tell me one more time,” His voice was soft and self-assured, “who stinks?”

    “Me,” I sniffled, “I’m the one that stinks.”


    “So, you didn’t actually have him unlock your cock?”

    “Nope,” He shook his head in disbelief, “he didn’t.”

    “He offered to let you lick his unshowered ass and you actually chose to do that instead?”

    He laughed and sighed with satisfaction, “Yeah, he did.”

    “But his gross, unshowered ass probably tastes and smells awful?”

    He shrugged, and chuckled, “So fucking bad.”

    “And still you chose that...over getting your dick back?”

    His smirk was huge, “He did. He really, really did.”

    “Well, that just doesn’t make any fucking sense, but I guess if it’s what you really want who am I to argue? You should absolutely be doing you, and apparently you are still locked in your chastity cage even though I promised to have my hot best friend unlock you. The only problem is, I didn’t exactly have a plan for when to unlock you after today.”

    “Well, you know dude,” He nodded his head at me, “you could just have him check in with me every day or so, and leave the decision in my hands. That is, if you don’t mind giving up that power. I’m interested to find out just how badly he wants me.”

    “Interesting, so you’ll continue to offer him your body?”

    “Yep,” He nodded.

    “And if he takes it you won’t give him back his cock.”

    He shrugged, “I mean, if it’s cool with you dude. I promise he’ll get his cock back when he stops wanting my dirty ass more. I’ll basically just hang on to the key and give him today’s offer every day until he actually wants to unlock.”

    “I guess that sounds fine. A little weird, but fine. Just, he’s still my boyfriend, okay? I’ll just keep fucking him and getting blowjobs, and dating him. You’ll just...”

    He smirked, “I’ll just keep getting my ass licked every day. He’s your boyfriend, I’ll just be the guy with the key to his cock. He can get an unlock from me any time, as long as he really wants it.”

    “And just to be clear, that’s not what he wanted?”

    “Nope,” He shrugged, “or at least he wanted my hairy, sweaty, smelly, dirty ass even more...”


    I couldn’t believe it: he was wasting it. He had drank exactly what I had asked him to. He had developed his flavor all night. He got my account pulled up to extract his payment, and now what? He was wasting it?!

    That didn’t stop him from tapping away at the screen of course. No doubt he was extracting the maximum amount while emptying his custom built piss onto a wall. Aw fuck he was creating a flood: he would have filled an entire bottle, maybe even two!

    “I thought you wanted to taste this piss,” He called back to me, “apparently you didn’t want it straight from the tap? You pay for it fresh from the dick or in a puddle on the dirty ground. I figured you’d want it fresh from the dick,” He leaned forward and ripped a giant fart, his stream slowing to a trickle as the noise died off, “but I guess you prefer the dirty ground flavor mixed in?”

    “But...” I gawked while the machine beeped and he pulled a wade of cash out, “you didn’t...”

    He sighed with relief, “Fuck it was hard to hold all that in for so long.” He shook his dick before stuffing it back into his pants, “Glad I don’t have to hold it for a single second longer. What, not what you had in mind?”  He turned to smirk at me, “I do see you’ve got more cash, so if a puddle of piss on the dirty ground isn’t what you wanted, maybe we can talk about doing this again sometime. Of course I’d want to see you appreciate my hard work this time...”

    I blinked at him with incredulity, not exactly processing what he was saying. It was only when he glanced down at the puddle that I realized what he wanted. He wanted me to suck the drink that I had paid for up off the ground. He was telling me that we could try this again, and that I could be more specific, but first I had to prove that I want it. First I had to drink his custom concoction off of the ground.

    He shrugged and turned to walk away, “Well man, I guess if you don’t really appreciate my product, I’ll just have to...”

    I practically dove for the puddle. Before I even really knew what I was doing my lips were on the ground slurping. I coughed when my brain caught up with my body, but one glance up at him had me slurping again. I could taste the full-bodied, custom-built flavor he had developed. The taste of the ground tainted it, but his flavor was still strong enough to shine through.

    “Glad to see you like it,” He laughed, “I can see from your enthusiasm that you think it was worth the cost. Now remember, if you ever want it bottled you have to pay extra for that. You can also always have it right from the tap for the same price as on the ground, but I make no guarantees about my speed or aim. I’ll do my best to hit your mouth, but if it spills onto the ground you still pay just like you did today. Anyway,” He snapped his fingers and pointed down at me, “I gotta run back to those girls, I’ll expect your call again next week.”

    I looked up at him from my hands and knees and nodded, but it wasn’t a question. He expected me to call again, so that’s what I was going to do. I would call again and request more piss. I’d beg for the opportunity to pay a bottling fee. I’d agree to do anything to keep his custom-brew off the dirty ground.

    If that means kissing his ass and thanking him for the opportunity to purchase his piss, so be it. Even if he farts in my face while denting my account, that’s just the price I pay. After all, I can only get his custom brewed piss in one place: from him, so I’m not doing anything that might piss him off.


    “Thanks for inviting me back man,” He offered me his hand and I enthusiastically took it, “I’m so excited to be here.”

    “I’m excited to have you here,” He squeezed my fingers together and used his free hand to pat the back of mine.

    I involuntarily clenched: from my jaw all the way down to my butthole. For a moment I thought I was afraid of him, but I quickly realized that was just because I wanted to impress him so badly. I admired him, I practically worshipped him, so to feel a little nervous was totally natural. Even my massive boner was obviously a normal reaction to being near such a spectacular guy. Still, I was glad that I had decided to wear a tight pair of speedos under my board shorts like he had recommended.

    “I’m going to show you around today,” He fixed his gorgeous smile somewhere between confident and cocky, “don’t hesitate to ask your stupid questions, dumb ass, an idiot like you is going to have to concentrate hard and listen carefully in order to fully understand your new roll.”

    I shook my head in confusion, trying to form a clear thought despite the fog his power and attractiveness created in my mind, “I...? Work...? Here...?” I managed to get out, but my tongue felt strangely clumsy. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t stop a large bubble of drool escaping from my mouth when I spoke, even though I knew how drooling would make me look like a complete and total moron.

    His smirk, for its part, was definitely cocky now, “You’re so stupid: you work for me,” he clarified, “it doesn’t matter where we are.”

    “I work...for you?” I fumbled around the words as I tried unsuccessfully to speak without drooling. I felt my entire body flush hard with embarrassment.

    “Yep,” He pulled me towards him, released my hand, and then tapped me on the forehead, “you work for me.”

    It was like he had pushed a reset button. My eyes automatically fell shut, and the last thing I saw was him stepping in to stop me from collapsing onto the ground. I was asleep for somewhere between moments and minutes, it was hard to tell, but even as I slept I could still smell and hear him vividly. He was talking about me: letting me know how stupidly unaware and relaxed I was. He was talking about himself: reminding me how great he is, how much he turns me on, and how a guy like me naturally wants to do or agree with everything he says.

    I, of course, agreed. After all, I admire and respect the guy: he should know that I think he deserves my full-throated support. I may have drooled uncontrollably when I tried to tell him so, but it just seemed important that he hears it from me. He deserved to hear directly from my clumsy, drooling mouth that my tongue and lips would be better occupied sucking his dick than voicing an opinion. I had to let him know that as his new “employee” I considered it my job - my purpose - to execute his vision for me with enthusiasm and dedication.

    By the time I opened my eyes and saw his smirk again, I felt weak and helpless. I was so embarrassed by how much better and more attractive than me he was that I couldn’t look him in the eye, so instead my eyes focused on his feet. Still, even that didn’t feel quite respectful enough so I slowly sank towards my knees. He didn’t let me get all the way to the ground though. When he realize what I was doing he lifted me back to my feet.

    “That’s a good boy,” He patted my arm with a chuckle, “but you don’t need to do that now. Right now I need to show you around, you moron. This afternoon, after lunch, you can practice kneeling behind the counter for me. If you do well this morning I’ll even let you practice tasting me. You want to know how I taste, don’t you?”

    “Yesh smer,” I nodded and drooled.

    “Good boy,” He said again, “come on, follow me, let me explain in detail exactly how all of this is going to work.”


    “You ready to have your cock locked for another week?” He reached up and offered me his hand.

    “I really want to beat you,” I lifted my arm and squeezed his hand with mine.

    “I know,” He sounded like he sympathized.

    I squeezed a little harder and softly growled with frustration, “I’m stronger than you.”

    “You are,” He agreed, patiently not squeezing back, “but you’re still not going to win.”

    I shook my head, “Why do I keep losing to you?”

    “Because you’re a loser,” His voice had the confidence of cold hard fact, “and losers always lose. It’s what you do. I’m going to win and you’re going to lose, every time, because you’re you and I’m me.”

    I shook my head, letting my tongue pass diligently over my lower lip as I felt a rush of determination, “No, I’m going to beat you.”

    He shook his head, and I could tell that he didn’t have even the smallest doubt, “I’m a winner. That means I’m going to win. Go ahead, say it, you know I’m right.”

    I sighed, feeling my determination waiver, “You’re gong to win.”

    “Exactly,” He nodded, “it’s not about you, it’s about me: I’m going to win, which means you’re going to lose.”

    I shivered, “That’s so unfair.”

    He chuckled, “You don’t like losing, do you?”

    “I don’t like losing,” I shook my head, “it doesn’t feel good.”

    “It doesn’t feel good,” He agreed, “so instead of suffering defeat, why don’t you just forfeit to me?”

    I sighed and shivered again, glancing down at my shorts and the highly restrained package they contained. I looked up at him, but could see my inevitable doom in his eyes. I licked my lips with a newly resigned determination, “Okay, yeah, I quit, you win.”

    He shook his head, “You don’t quit: you forfeit. Say it, admit it, or I’m going to destroy you. You don’t want that, do you?”

    He continued to shake his head and I slowly followed his lead and started shaking mine, “No...no, I don’t want that. I want to forfeit. You win, I lose, just please don’t lock my cock for another week.”

    “Sorry dude,” He smirked and released my hand, relaxing his body and sitting up on his knees, “you have to beat me to get your cock unlocked. You know that those are the rules. On the bright side, since you didn’t make me work for it, I have enough energy to help you unload.”

    “Don’t even joke about that,” I remained down with both my hands and knees on the floor, “if I’m staying locked you can’t stroke me off either dude!”

    “No,” He looked so sure of himself, “but I can stroke your prostate, if you want.”

    I shivered, suddenly feeling like being on my hands and knees looked more suggestive than I had originally realized, “Oh man, you’re saying losers get fucked?”

    He slowly shook his head, “Fucking feels good. Losing is totally unpleasant. Losing gets you bullied, forfeiting gets you fucked.”

    “I forfeit,” I pointed out, “please, I feel like my balls are going to burst out of my sack.”

    “Then let me help you out,” He held out his hand like he was offering me a favor, “after all, what else is there to lose when you’ve already forfeited the match?”


    “Go ahead,” He pressed the shoe down towards my face, “show me that it’s clean. Prove to me that you did what you were supposed to do. Go ahead and lick the bottom of my fucking shoe.”

    I hesitated for just a second, but he was right: I had cleaned it myself. So I cautiously lifted my face, worried he might choose to kick at any moment. He didn’t though, he patiently waited for me to stick out my tongue and carefully lick his sole.

    "No,” He shook his head, causing his hair to flop this way and that, “I said lick it. Again,” He forced me to lick again with the sheer force of his words. He still seemed unimpressed, “Again, he demanded, “lick it. I want your tongue proving that you cleaned my shoe. Do it, lick it again.”

    I licked again, using the full top of my tongue. I licked again, looking up at him with hope that he would approve. When he didn’t, I sucked his cleats, going one by one straight down the spikes. When that didn’t work I stuck my tongue out and gave the shoe a big lick. I licked desperately, and was thrilled to finally see him nod.

    “That’s it,” He pointed at me like I was on to something, “that’s it, there you go.” He chuckled, still sounding like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, “Lick my shoe again and again. Keep licking you pathetic loser, don’t stop, not until I tell you to.” His chuckle broke out into a laugh, “Yeah...yeah! You obviously think my shoe is clean, and hey, if you think it’s clean then that’s good enough for me.” 

    I shivered with relief when he finally put his foot down. My heart pounded hard and I took deep breaths. I had passed the test without getting stepped on. I had proven to him that his shoe was clean. I wasn’t going to be punished.

    “Now,” He scratched his balls above me, “let’s take a look at this other shoe: the one you were still working on when I came in. Personally, I don’t think it looks very clean, but I’ll still give you the chance to prove to me that it is. You know what do do: go ahead, lick my shoe...”


    Look dude, there is nothing I can do about the color or the bottle being half empty. You pay extra for fresh, and that’s what was in the tank. So do you want it or not? Because if you’re not here to do business then I have no reason to be talking with you. So either pull out your phone and pay, or I’m gonna kick your balls for wasting my time, dump this on the ground, and head back inside.

    Yeah yeah, that’s what I thought. Pull out your fucking phone and pay for the piss. I know, I know: you’re sorry for implying that you didn’t want my delicious, freshly bottled piss. You’re going to give me a 10% tip as an apology, and another 10% because you want me to fart in your face. I don’t actually have to fart, by the way, but you’re still going to tip me because you want me to. That’s it, such a big, fat number typed in and now you just go ahead and hit send.

    There you go. Pay without complaint. My piss is valuable and fucking rare because the only guy that makes it is me. If I won’t sell it to you, you can’t buy it. Which is why you’re going to bow down, kiss my shoe, and thank me for giving you the opportunity to purchase my piss.

    You are going to ask me, beg me even, to hand over the precious liquid you just spent a ridiculous amount of money on. Tell me how badly you want it while it is still warm. You better make me believe it too, because if I don’t I’m going inside and filling the other half of this bottle with ice cold water. You don’t want that do you? That would ruin the flavor or something gross like that, wouldn’t it?

    Yeah, that’s it, get down on your knees and beg. Fuck you’re so pathetic: you actually want my piss. Fine fine, I take pity on you. You can have my golden liquid if you kiss my foot again and thank me. That’s right, appreciate this gift, express your gratitude as you bow to your Prince of Piss.


    See? Just like I promised: you won’t forget what it feels like to touch your dick. You’ll remember, because you’ll get that exact feeling every time you kiss my feet.

    Pressing your lips against my shoe will feel like a hand wrapping around your shaft. Kissing my sock will feel like your shaft just got stroked. And if you get the chance to kiss my smelly, cheesy bare fucking feet that’s going to feel like a warm, wet mouth running up and down your boner.

    Now, close your mouth, open your nose, and get a whiff of this...

    Ahhh, fuck that stinks. Oh shit, here’s one more... Haha, fuck yeah. That felt great, stinks like shit, but that stench must make you feel like you are creaming your pants.

    No, really, I’ve made it so sniffing my farts actually feels like hitting the big-O for you. Don’t worry, you’re not actually able to shoot, in fact every time you smell that shit you’ll feel a massive increase in horniness. Fart sniffing is not actually a form of release for anyone, even you, but damn if you won’t be chasing that feeling anyway.

    Here, I’m going to put my foot right here so you can press your lips against my shoe and position your nose to sniff this next fart. In 3...2...1...SNIFF! Oh fuck that’s a big smelly one. Hahaha, you should see your face. You can’t cum, loser, no matter how many times you kiss that shoe. You can keep kissing and sniffing as much as you want but it will only make you hornier and hornier.

    Okay, that’s enough. I know I know, you want to keep kissing the shoe, but I’m telling you that you can’t. Now back off a bit: give me room to stand up. Don’t worry, I’m not leaving, I just need to take a piss. If you think my farts smell good, just wait until you get a whiff of this: it’s purely orgasmic.

    Not that you can, you know, orgasm or anything like that.


    Okay, yeah, we may have tricked you just a little bit. You didn’t give up an inch to all of us, because the way the ritual works we would have had to split that inch among the six of us. That would have left you a little bigger than half the group. So, I mean, yeah - what you were actually agreeing to was giving up an inch to each of us. This way the smallest guy here is a full six inches, and you...well...you were big enough that we still left you with an inch, maybe even an inch and a half?

    Sorry sorry, we don’t all mean to laugh, but...shit, what does it even look like? It’s gotta be the size of a pinky, right? Too small to reliably reach a clitoris or a prostate, that’s for sure. How does it feel? Knowing you gave all of us above average dicks while rendering your own totally useless. Does it maybe feel a little swollen and impossibly hard?

    Don’t worry, you won’t sustain damage. You just have to live through every inch of erection you were supposed to, in inches and girth, which means you have some long hard days ahead. Fortunately, you’re so tiny now that no one will really notice, but unfortunately - for you - we also managed to steal most of your orgasms. I mean, it’s only fair, right? You gave us upgraded cocks so don’t we deserve to get get as much pleasure as possible out of using them?

    Basically, the ritual grants us enough of your orgasms so that each of us can cum as many times more than you as you said we deserved to during that part when you kissed our balls. By our guess that means you’ll still be cumming once or twice a week. That’s not so bad considering we can also gift back orgasms we stole, if we want to. And I’m sure you’ll do everything you possibly can to make us want to, right? You’ll work so hard to put us in giving moods that I’m sure you’ll still be able empty your balls most days.

    Now, sit down and shut up. The ritual didn’t go wrong, it went exactly as planned. From now on you’re going to be doing what we say, when we say. If you want to cum, which we all know you do, then throw away the word ‘no’ and affix ‘yes Sir’ into your vocabulary. Welcome to your new world, a place where size does matter and you are smaller than every bro you know.


    One of us just came back from a run, one of us just took a shower, and one of us just took a shit. Without knowing which guy just did which thing, you have to lick one guy’s armpits, one guy’s feet, and one guy’s butthole in that order. 90 seconds each pit, 90 seconds each foot, and 180 seconds with your tongue licking butthole since we all only have one of those.

    Now, go ahead and choose. If you don’t declare all 3 you will get the showered pits, runner’s feet, and shitty butt hole. You have 15 seconds...go!


    I must have been making mistakes recently, although he hadn’t told me exactly what. It’s not like I was going to ask him either: if he wanted me to know he would tell me. In the mean time I’d be wearing white, like I was just a trainee, until he told me otherwise. Everything down to my underwear had to be white, and I had to keep it clean or suffer a correction. I had actually forgotten how difficult it was to keep trainee clothes clean, and the fact that the last three days felt like effort just assured me that I had displeased him in some way.

    I mean, I don’t think I’m actually doing anything differently, other than focusing hard on each aspect of my day. I wake up at the same time, and if I have to release gas from my ass I go outside and pull my pants down so I don’t get my underwear dirty. I piss squatting over a seatless toilet, and clean my piss stick before tucking it away. I strip down to my underwear and put on an apron to cook, so I don’t get my white clothes dirty. I put my clothes back on, and then I serve him breakfast before eating myself all without spilling.

    I restrain my bowels until he tells me it is time, and then I strip naked for the dirty act. I keep the door closed and shower afterwards, making sure my body is clean and the air is properly ventilated before I open the door. For the rest of the day I watch myself closely. If I so much as fart too aggressively I would be in some serious trouble. Even a small streak would be considered a massive infraction.

    I do my chores slowly and deliberately. Sweat stains wouldn’t be as bad as streaking my underpants, but they’re still a no-no. I serve calmly and thoroughly, like I always do, but...fuck...wearing white makes it so stressful. I feel like I have to be hyper detailed and vigilant. Which...shit...which means I must not have been as attentive before.

    Yeah, I for sure have been making mistakes recently. There’s just no other possible explanation for why I was wearing a trainee’s uniform. I am going to have to work hard to get out of these clothes again, and when I do I am going to have to remember this lesson: from now on I work like I’m wearing white clothes even when I am not. 


    “That’s very good,” He assured me, “hand in your pocket, just like that. No big deal, so relaxed, so easy to listen, so easy to obey. That’s it, now lift your left leg off the ground and...” He placed his hand on my shoulder as I started to tilt over, “sleep.” My foot dropped to the ground, my eyes snapped shut, and my head slumped into his accepting shoulder. He patted me on the back, “That’s it deeper and deeper, release your tension, accept my control.”

    “I accept your control,” I muttered in confirmation, “I can’t release the tension.”

    “Awww, you’ve gotta take a piss, don’t you? I told you not to drink so much. But I am going to need you to release that tension for me,” He stroked my head, “it’s okay, I’m here. Take a deep breath in, annnd release your hesitation out. Another deep breath in - one-two-three-four - and allll the tension out.”

    I sighed, “I’m relaxed...can’t piss my pants.”

    He patted my back and stroked my head at the same time, “Sure you can buddy, it’s totally okay. You’re going to fully and completely relax for me. You’re going deeper and deeper with every single breath. You’re too relaxed to stay in control. All that tension is going to flood out of you when you take a deep breath in,” He snapped in my ear then patted the back of my head, “all the tension out.”

    My entire body shrugged, I exhaled, and all the tension drained out of me. A warmth rapidly spread around my crotch and I felt a stream running down my leg. I groaned as I lost all fight causing my stream to turn into a full fledged hosing-down. “Oh fuck,” I shivered as I closed in on a quarter tank and the flow started to slow. I stuck my ass out and farted.

    “That’s it, let it all out. Releasing the tension drains you of all control. Do you have to take a shit too?”

    “Mmm,” My gut shifted around, “uh uh,” I shook my head ‘no’.

    “Come on now,” He rubbed circles around my back, “you can trust your best bud, can’t you? You know without a doubt that you can safely confess all your secrets to your best bud. Always be honest with your best bud. Always trust your best bud. Accept your best bud’s authority and control.”

    I took a deep breath in, “I accept,” I sighed as I exhaled, “your control.” He rubbed my cramping stomach and I couldn’t help but force out another fart. I moaned, “I didn’t get to go before class this morning.”

    He chuckled, “I know buddy, I know. Your brother took too long so you didn’t have time to finish your morning routine, and then I kept talking when you wanted to go at lunch. You’ve been holding in that pressure all day, but now it’s time to relax and release it. Don’t push,” He patted my stomach, “just relax. Release all your muscles and relax completely with a deep breath in...and relax your inhibitions out.”

    My guts grumbled as every fart I had held back throughout the day seemed to merge together before dropping out of me with a massive low-pitched rattle. I pressed myself into his body, “Oh fuck, I accept your control,” I told him. Another, equally massive fart ripped out of me and I felt more of my self control flow out of me and into him, “I have to take a really big shit.”

    “I know buddy,” He scratched his fingers behind my ear, “but you can’t take a shit without my permission. You will take a dump only if you obey me completely. You need to accept my control because you need to take a crap, you only want to obey completely.”

    “I only want to obey completely,” I promised him, “I can take a shit as soon as I have your permission.”

    “That feels so good dude, you might even find yourself getting a boner. Don’t worry about anything, your best bro has got your back. Now listen carefully, concentrate hard on comprehending everything I say, listen closely because at some point I might finally tell you to drop that massive, stressful dump that you’re absolutely desperate to release...”

    I farted and moaned in total defeat as my ears strained to hear his words while he began his total takeover with little more than a whisper.


    "Is that really the first thing you want to say to me?” He shrugged, “I guess so huh? Well, that’s minus one point for you, and you are off to a terrible start.” He tapped his shoe and looked expectantly at me, “You’re really clueless, huh? Well that costs you another point, plus another because I’m offering to explain what you’re supposed to do if you immediately bark like a dog.”

    It took my brain a beat to realize what he wanted from me, but I hesitantly started barking. He nodded so I barked even more. I wagged my ass, stuck my tongue out and panted, then barked again.

    He nodded again and worked to suppress a smirk, “That’s it bitch, very funny: plus one point. You see, that’s what you’re trying to do here, you’re trying to please me and guys like me. When we are amused you get a point. When we are not amused, you lose a point. You win the level if, at the end of the hour, you have positive points.

    “Sounds easy, right?” He shook his head, “Wrong bitch. You see, we get to keep 90% of the coin you spend every time you start or restart this level. Not to mention that your points are cumulative from guy to guy. That means when I leave and you have negative points, you will start with negative points if you choose to try again with the next guy. We have every motivation to keep you here as long as possible, which is why this level is nicknamed ‘go for broke’.

    “Plus, the guys they select to do this are notoriously self-satisfied. We’re all things like jocks, hipsters, even some geniuses. What could a bitch like you ever do that would add to the seriously satisfying lives we live? I mean, just look at me. I’ve had farts that are more amusing than you.

    "Let that be a goal for you: to bring me, and guys like me, at least as much pleasure as one of our own farts. Every time you make us feel as good as ripping ass does, you’ll get a point. Oh..and uh...minus one point...because here’s a tip: you can beg us to stay for another round. If you get a guy you think you’re connecting with, and you’re gaining points, beg his generous ass to stay.

    “Now,” He sighed, “I’m going to subtract a point because explaining that was seriously not fun for me. Plus another point because even after listening to all that you haven’t even tried to amuse me yet. That means we’re like...a minute in and you’ve already lost 5 points. Fun fact: if you end the round down five points or more I get to kick you in the balls, plus some extra kicks awarded for every three points you drop below that.

    “And since kicking you in the balls is actually very fun, I’m going to need some pretty good reasons to raise your score at this point. What’s so messed up is that you haven’t even tried to please me yet. Well, I guess that’s minus another point for you and another step closer to a second kick for me...”


    You know, when I first moved in here, I could tell you were going to be a real problem. I saw you, and the type of guy you are, and I could tell that you’d get in my way before long. That’s why I knew that I had to take action, which I did immediately.

    Do you remember that first night? How rude and inconsiderate I was? You must have given me a list of 30 things you wanted to be different the next morning. Remember how good you felt when I apologized and immediately improved my behavior? You must’ve felt such relief when I reacted positively, rather than giving you a beat down.

    Even then though, I was just working you, because I never came close to meeting you half way. Like a fool, you “appreciated” my “effort” when I gave you maybe a third of what you wanted. I didn’t have to give you the big things either, and still you were pleased with my “progress”. Later on, when I "slipped up” on even the little bit I had given you, you didn’t get pissed. At that point you had accepted my behavior, and had even grown to be okay with it.

    Meanwhile, even as I extracted the ability to give you less, you eagerly gave me more and more. You probably thought you were setting an example for me, huh? You do what I want you to do, and maybe I’ll do what you want me to do? Never really worked out for you though, did it? In fact, if you tried to back off on any of the behaviors I was coaxing out of you I actually did get pissed, which always stressed you out a little. That’s why you basically never deviated from the behaviors I wanted out of you, even as I completely ignored the behaviors you wanted to get out of me.

    Slowly, surely, I molded you into the kind of guy that never gets in the way of a guy like me. I’ve turned you into a total pushover, a complete doormat. The fact that you’re down there now, kissing my feet, makes that metaphor almost literal. Like I can wipe my feet on your face, and you’d just let me. Hell, I could wipe them on your tongue and you wouldn’t even complain.

    In fact, stick your tongue out. That’s it, right there. Now, lick my foot from heel to toe. Shiiit that’s it, you feel that? That is what I have fucking reduced you to.

    Now, we’re going to celebrate and finalize this change in our relationship. We’re going to spend the entire weekend together. You are going to show me how much you have, or haven’t, changed and I will reward or punish you accordingly. Be warned that I will be really putting you through the wringer. I am going to test every single one of your mental and physical responses so I can adjust my attack in phase two.

    Oh yeah, haha, you didn’t realize this is just phase one? Dude, this was just the invasion, next comes the occupation. After that comes the lasting surrender, a time I truly am looking forward to.

    At that point I’ll have turned you into the best, most obedient roommate you possibly can be, but for now I’ll just settle for you going ahead and licking my other smelly foot...