Think They’d Be Fun In Some Circumstances

But where are there diapers!?

This is the difference between a boy who’s accepted his reality and a boy who’s still holding out hope it’s a phase. It’s not. Accept yourself. Dress appropriately. Find yourself a real man and serve.

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He doesn't let fags anywhere near His cock. He has plenty of chicks to take care of that. but He finds it funny to watch a pathetic queer loser slobber all over His feet after He's been walking around barefoot all day.

He’s even got the neighbors 23 year old son checking in with Him through text message several times a day to make sure His feet are clean enough. He usually just ignores the text, only responding when His feet are truly filthy; and in those instances the fag rushes over eagerly to devour the filth from the bottoms of His massive feet.

It all started as a joke. The little fag couldn’t stop staring whenever He’d kick His feet up on the porch, and the Man was starting to notice it. After noticing the fag’s staring a few times, the Man called out jokingly one tipsy night “why don’t you come over here and kiss them since you’re so captivated by them”

And the rest was history. He knew He had the bitch by the balls when he first walked up the stairs and leaned in to kiss His big, stinking feet. It wasn’t sexual for Him, but He did enjoy it in a non sexual way. Once the Man had the fag’s brain hooked on His feet, He ordered a small, cheap chastity belt off the internet and demanded the bitch put it on if he wanted to continue being allowed to worship. The fag, desperate to secure his place at His addicting feet, put it on without a second thought, and the Man kept the keys.

He never really told the fag, but He had absolutely zero intention of ever letting him free from his metal cage. It was so effortless, stealing the young fag’s sexuality from him at age 18, and then constantly dangling His feet in his helpless face. The bitch had asked a few different times to have it taken off, if only for 10 minutes, but the Man insisted that if He took it off He would have to move away and never let the fag see His feet again. He had complete control of his mind, making him stay at home living with his parents where it’s cheaper so that he could send more of his paycheck to Him. The fag lived on a very strict budget, ensuring that he could send as much money as possible to the Man next door who kept a close eye on his finances. It was the perfect win- extra money for doing nothing, the thrill of controlling another man, and there was something particularly amusing about watching his eyes glaze over whenever he would lick His feet. It was the only ‘sex’ the fag would ever know, and boy did he enjoy it!

The Man knew he would own this faggot for as long as He wanted to, and his parents didn’t seem to mind him living at home, so there was no foreseeable obstacle anywhere in the future. The Man smirked when His phone lit up beside Him on the table. “New Message from Forever Virgin”

‘Sir, may I please offer my cleaning services to You and Your perfect Feet?’ He clicked the reply button and lit up a joint, eagerly waiting for the sick little fuck to come in and serve his filthy purpose at the bottoms of His cruel and taunting feet.

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The afternoon had been a perfect blend of easy conversation and soft laughter. His place was comfortable, a haven of familiar furniture and shared jokes. Then the door opened, and everything shifted, the easy-going atmosphere replaced with a silent tension that made my heart pound. His mother, a woman I had only met briefly, walked in, carrying a package that shattered my sense of normalcy. A package of diapers. I froze, my mind reeling.

The moment that she was in the room, I felt my world turn upside down. Was she really holding a package of Pampers?

“Oh, you are still here?” She asked him, a question that cut through me, like I was a stranger. It was then, that my heart really skipped a beat.

My eyes flicked to the package, the brightly colored label a stark contrast to the seriousness of her expression. She looked at me, and her smile felt too sweet. Almost predatory. Then she looked at him. Then back to me.

"Oh, these are for my little son," she said, her gaze lingering on me, too long. "He needs them you know." She looked at me again, her eyes piercing my soul, as she walked into the kitchen, and put them down. Then she came back to us. “He has a little bit of a problem, but you will understand soon.” It was a clear threat.

Then it happened. She looked at him, and asked: "Show her" His face paled, then he sighed, and slowly lifted his t-shirt, to reveal the telltale bulge. A huge, padded diaper was beneath. My jaw dropped. What was going on?

"Oh yes, it does seem like he does. Please put this new package away, and show your friend what you have been hiding," She added, as if it was just a passing thought. It was always so calm with her. Too calm.

I watched as he shuffled off to what I now understood was a diaper storage room, and I watched as he started to place his diapers on the highest shelves, as if this was a normal occurrence. It was then that I knew, that I had stumbled into something far more complex, something I wasn't sure I understood. And then I just saw him, as he came back to me, and I knew that I had to change my view of him. He was something else. He was something more.

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