He was a good-looking guy, and I enjoyed his company. A lot. We met at the gym, and he had a six pack and nice pecs. He had a bubble butt and a youthful face. He made me laugh and seemed to have a sense of fun. He was incredibly fit and fast. Once he made a bet that he could beat a Rickshaw pony slave to the next stop. He beat the slave hands down. This was a feat hard to achieve. We became close. Super close.
Little did I know he once followed me to a brothel. I used to go and fuck a tight young slave there I knew as a free man years ago. Looking back, the signs were there, but I never saw him watching me fuck that tight hole senseless.
Then we got drunk. He told me everything. He told me that he was gay, and he used the term "fag" because he said it felt a better choice of word to describe him. He was submissive and liked the humiliation. He wanted a real man, and he saw me fuck. He told me his plan.
I went on the Internet and did research. He could do this and offer himself to me. I didn't have to agree at any point, and if I didn't, then he would be sold, I was in control. I could do anything I wanted. I had a small place, but a slave would help a lot. I decided to say yes. I didn't have to go to court. Everything including his property that I decided to sell was mine.
There were loads of history on such beings, including the history of faggot slavery. Such contracts were offered 15 years ago. Since then, many had been offered. It almost suggested that I would be doing him a favour by taking his freedom. Incredible stuff.
He was delivered to my door.
The slave police came in first and then the faggot slave boy followed with its head downwards. It wasn't allowed to speak, and the police spoke to me about the finer points, including his estate. The point that he was estimated worth ten times as myself shocked me. How could a man want this? The answer from one of the officers was that he wasn't a true man. It was and always has been a lesser being. A faggot slave. A server of true men.
They asked me if I wanted a demonstration. I said yes. The Slave Police yanked on the slave's leash and forced him to kneel before all three of us. The officer with the shaved head and arm tattoos put his hand behind the slave's neck and made him get down to his elbows.
He pushed the slave's face on to his black leather boot and told him to lick it clean. The slave did so as all three of us watched. My cock was beginning to stir. The slave had no resistance to the rough handling of the officer as it stuck it's tongue out and licked this man's boot. The officer kept his tattooed arm on the slave's neck as it continued to lick. It began to whimper.
"What's that? You want what's inside, faggot?"
The other officer, a man with cropped brown hair, took the leash from the tattooed officer and yanked the slave back up to its knees. Its hands went to a begging position like the kind I see the pups use when they're waiting for an Alpha's bone. The slave's chaste cock was pushing through its tiny cage, and it looked up at me. I could see lust in its eyes. It was hungry for degradation, and I could tell it was about to get it.
The tattooed officer unlaced his boot and pulled it off and grabbed the back of the slave's head again as the other officer kept the leash tight in his grasp. The tattooed officer then pushed the slave's face into his boot.
"Sniff my boot you pathetic little fag."
The slave did so quicky, and without hesitation. I could hear it inhale the boot musk deeply and I saw its body shiver with anticipation. The officer chuckled and ran the boot around the slave's face and pushed further into its face. Knowing it was a warm day out, and the boot was leather, I could tell the scent would be strong. But the slave was relishing it. This is what it wanted. To be used and abused and humiliated like this. The officer took the boot off the slave's face and held it aloft.
"Beg for more."