Disclaimer: This story is a gay authoritarian fantasy. No part of it is based in fact, and none of the characters are intended to resemble real persons, living or dead. It features a domination/submission relationship between two consenting men above 18. If this type of content is offensive to you or illegal in your area, or if you are under the age of 18, please do not proceed.
Next morning, I woke up in a hurry at 07:45, changed into a new maid uniform, washed up, brushed my teeth, and headed to Master Garrett's bedroom.
Garrett was sleeping naked in a 70°F degree, with his thighs spread, and cock and nuts hanging between them.
I had no idea why, but just over a day of serving as his slave had changed something inside me. Nothing felt disgusting or offensive anymore. If anything, I was beginning to feel good about my life with Garrett.
At 08:00, I climbed onto Garrett's bed, and started to lap his ballsack. I could feel the rough hairs of his nuts soften on my tongue as I licked from the taint up.
"It's Saturday," he said in a relatively deep voice while stretching.
Remembering what I had gone through on the day before for failing to realize his desired morning routine...
"Sir, I'm so sorry, Sir. Sir, please forgive me, Sir"
...I was trying to imagine the kind of punishment he had in store for me this time.
But he didn't seem that bothered.
"Hey, don't beat yourself up. You haven't had a day off since...", he paused for a few seconds. "Well, since you were someone paying rent with their money, not their mouth."
I was relieved. But now that I was his sex slave, a carefree weekend for him was most likely going to be extra work for me.
"Seriously, you did a good job waking me up. It shows that you learned your lesson."
That was probably the least offensive thing he had said to me in the past two days.
"Does there happen to be an empty beer bottle?", Garrett asked while I was tonguing his taint and licking his inner thighs.
"Sir, yes, Sir. Sir, I held onto the one from the other day for recycling, Sir."
"You bet it will be recycled. Bring it over here."
"Sir, yes, Sir."
When I came back, he was sitting up.
"Hold my cockhead to the mouth of the bottle, and wait."
Seconds after I obeyed his order, he relaxed himself to shoot golden piss into the bottle, and I could feel the warmth on my hand through the glass. When his bladder was drained, the bottle was halfway full.
"You're going to take a big gulp of my piss every 15 minutes, starting now."
Instantly, I popped the bottle into my mouth, took a big mouthful, and swallowed my first load of Garrett's acidic morning piss for the day.
"What a good faggot!", he chuckled, getting out of bed.
Garrett stood in his place for a moment, like he was waiting for something. I instantly got the hint, kneeling, squeezing my nose between his buttcheeks, and crawling behind him towards the bathroom.
"I have a big steam loaf to drop. In the meantime, you can suck on my toes."
"Sir, yes, Sir."
While Garrett started to take his morning dump, spreading its fragrant smell in the air, I picked up his right foot in my hands and sucked on each and every one of his toes, making sure to stick my tongue into the cracks between them.
When he was finished, he simply pulled a piece of toilet paper, handed it over, and turned his ass to me.
"Get in there, fuckboy."
"Sir, yes, Sir."
I firmly pressed my fingers into his asshole through the toilet paper while swiping it up his buttcrack. When I got it out, I was surprised to find nothing but a mild stain.
"Flush."
"Sir, yes, Sir."
I threw the used piece into the bowl, and watched Garrett's solid, brown log along with the used toilet paper disappear into the drain.
"You're going to do this whenever I need to drop a bomb. Understood?"
"Sir, yes, Sir."
Garrett spent the next hour at the gym, while I showered, tidied up his bedroom, and cleaned his bathroom. I remembered to take a sip of his cold, stale piss every now and then until the bottle was empty.
When Garrett came back, breathless, I groveled before his legs, mouthing both pairs of his sneakers, and pulling his shoestrings out with my teeth. I made sure to hold onto his shoes so he could take them off by dragging his feet out.
He stripped naked, leaving me to collect his drenched shorts and tank top while he walked towards the coffee table, where I had set a hearty breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausage, and buttered toast for him.
"Get under the table, faggot," was all he said.
"Sir, yes, Sir."
While Garrett enjoyed his breakfast, he made me go down on him. I no longer felt like I was sucking cock because it was my job, I was beginning to like doing it.
"You're learning so fast," he said between the bites. "You get better and better every time I use your mouth."
While throating his cock, I even felt the urge to gag on purpose, just to send waves of pleasure through his shaft.