Owned Cum Dump

This story is a follow up to 'The back alley cum dump'.

The three characters in this story are 20, 26 and 65 plus.

No one under the age of 18 are depicted in any of my stories.

I wrote this story because a few people have asked for some characters to return and not to be used just once. Hope you enjoy this as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

Owned cum dump!

Frankie the fag was back the following day behind the back alley on his knees and worshipping Mal, the young hung alpha. This time he wore some black panties he had with suspenders on them. Mal made it perfectly clear on the app what time he should be there and what he should wear over the next few weeks. He used other fags on the app, but Frankie was convenient as well as very well trained and was a good little fag. He always marked him highly on the app and it affected the faggots score in a good way a little. Frankie got used by other true men still but not as much as Mal. They were forming a bond.

Then there was a turning point. The first of many.

It was a hot summers day and Frankie was sat at the back of the gym on a wall of a grassed area, watching a training session on the track that he knew Mal used for his training sessions. About ten minutes into the faggot's lunch, a man began walking towards him. As this real man got closer to him, he realised that it was Mal. His heartbeat became faster, and his little cock cage became a little more 'cramp', as his restricted minute cock began to take a stab at rising. Naturally like any locked little dicklet it was doomed for failure.

Frankie was relieved that no one else was around. However, Frankie panicked a little but then took a deep breath and then has this true alpha male got closer, he saw his smile. Frankie saw the man he had been serving for weeks at nighttime for the first time in pure daylight. It is what he secretly yearned for.

In the daylight Mal was clearly a god with a beautiful smile. His six pack was exposed, his shirt was tucked into his shorts. His body was one hundred percent perfection. Although he was not muscled like Frankie, the 'Muscle Mary' that had been in his service for a while. The mix race god had more of a male vibe to him than the white faggy bottom boy. Mal's face was certainly more masculine and the way he stood was almost as though he owned the world, or at least this part of it. In a way Mal did have certain assets. A willing slave for starters.

"Come out here to perv on real men!" Mal said in a commanding tone, "Faggot!" he added with a smirk on his face. The young hung Alpha knew exactly what the pitiful fag butt boy game plan was.

"Yes. Sir!" somehow their roles had been established a long time before, the truth was that he had been looking for a glance of this Alpha training on the tracks for weeks. The faggot wanted to see his Alpha in action on the tracks. Frankie could not get enough of the real man.

The genuine man was then directly in front of the faggot and his cock was almost at his lips. His back was towards the running track, cutting out any potential of being caught having his body worshipped by such a pitiful excuse of a male from any of the guys training with him. Having said that Mal didn't care if he was caught being worshiped.

"Kiss it through the fabric boy!" he looked down at the man-boy pushing him a little further out of his comfort zone. Somehow it always seems more humiliating to be caught with a cock in your mouth as propose to a mouth round your cock. As Frankie kissed the fabric he looked up at his king in the eyes. In the daylight. He could smell the morning sweat of Mal's body. It was almost like a bee smelling nectar of a flower. The lesser man kissed with purpose. The purpose to please a real dude.

Frankie the fag looked up at the earthly god, "Thank you, sir!" his words were as meaningful as they could be. His eyes showed the real man how the dirty little faggot whore felt about him. He truly felt in his place. He truly felt he was serving a real man. The man just looked down with contempt in his eyes.

The Alpha then sat down next to the faggot. He moved over to him and pulled out the faggots locked cock, adjusting the dirty cunts track suit bottoms, exposing the sluts cage so it could be seen by Mal. He chuckled at the faggot's cage and the muscle fag just looked down at his tiny cage and then Frankie thanked the man for 'properly dressing' him.

Mal spoke to him, almost whispering. "Would you like to lick my armpits clean?" he sniggered "Noone is looking!"

It was true that no one was looking, but it was also true that anyone could glance over and see his head in this stud's arm pit. He had clearly been working out in the sun all morning. However, it wasn't really an invite but a demand!

Frankie, the fag felt his exposed clit cage jump a little as he thought about the mans demands of him. In silence he placed his salad lunch down on the grass behind the wall and then looked at the man's armpit. Was he really going to do it? Lick a man's armpit in a public space. Was he going to risk his reputation? Any of his gym's clients may see him or worst still a member of his family, who lived close by. Did he want to expose himself like this?

There was only one true answer for an experienced faggot like Frankie was.

The answer was YES! He leaned towards Mal and licked all the way from the bottom of the left armpit to the top. The topman encouraged him with a little moan and lifted his arm a little more. "Pathetic!" the true man used insulting words. Slowly and with eye contact the degraded faggot got up and walked around the man and without sitting down he bowed his head down and licked all the way in, sniffing the armpit. If anyone saw him then it would be clear what just had happened. Fortunately, on this occasion no one was close enough or focused enough to notice.

"Thankyou sir" he softly spoke.

The dirty faggot could feel his cage moving up and down and his restrained ball sack being stretched by his little dicklet trying to get out of its prison. The man smirked at the faggot seeing how comical it looked.

"Good boy. Sit down!" he did, as Mal used the term boy in a demeaning way to show who was in charge of the faggot. "I am going to request you to change your status to 'owned' on the app!" Again, it wasn't really a conversation or request. It was more like a simple fact. Not even a 'are you ok with that!'

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir. I will accept straight away, sir!" Franke wanted to be owned by this true male.

"Good. I will also be in charge with any requests from other men to use you" he said sternly "Do you understand faggot?"

"Yes. Sir. I understand sir".

It was almost a surreal encounter. Mal had planned it in his head for weeks when he realised that Frankie had his lunches looking out at the track. He had waited to a point where he thought that the faggot was ready to be pushed a little further. He liked the idea of humiliating the faggot and making him want him more too. Mal walked away from Frankie with a smile on his face, knowing how much Frankie was his. Mal was going to enjoy the power over the faggot. Not in an evil way but to explore their sexual roles. Frankie was ready for it.

**

Ten minutes later the app had a request put through by Mal for ownership of Muscle Marry, Frankie. Within ten seconds the request was accepted.

Frankie was locking up the gym when the app chimed. It was a request sent through from Mal. The request was for Frankie to be at a boutique hotel in two hours. Now Mal was his owner he could request that Frankie served other men if he wished, and Frankie knew that was a part of the deal. The stranger had been talking to Mal. Frankie then saw a private message from Mal giving him clear instructions of what to wear. It also stated all night. Frankie was off the following day so that was not an issue. He quickly went home to get ready.

Frankie was excited to be owned in this way and excited for him to be told who he could have sex with and who he couldn't. He was beginning to see himself as a sex toy for Mal and that excited him a lot.

One difference between a gay man and a faggot is that a gay man would never do what a faggot would do. A fag would lick the arm pits of a much younger man in public. Wear women's clothes when being fucked regularly up a back alley. Changing their status on an app so someone has the control of you. Only a faggot would do that.

In the gym that afternoon an old song came on. "Some of them want to use you, some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abused!" Frankie thought of how true that was. He most certainly had sweet dreams over his own position in life.

Who was this man anyway? The man that his new owner wanted him to service all night.

**

Frankie knocked on the door after placing the collar round his neck that he was requested to do by his new owner. He became nervous as he waited a moment or two. He didn't want anyone to see him in nothing but a collar, white tea shirt and jeans. He was told to place his thin summer shoes in his little bag and not to wear socks. It was more for practical purposes than anything more. Mal believed that wearing shoes is a privilege for a fag slave and now he 'owned' Frankie, he saw it has his right to stop him from wearing socks and shoes when it was possible.

Frankie imagined the colour of his face if someone had saw him looking to the floor and waiting for the door to open to the room. His feet naked made him feel more like a slave more than the collar did. All men in the world wear something on their feet, taking away that right from someone defines their status as a slave to him. Although others may spot the collar before the feet.

The door opened. Frankie couldn't see the mans face as his head was bowed down. The man simply said, "Come in slave!" the faggot walked in. "Strip off you remaining clothes fag!" The faggot stripped. "Put your hands on your head boy. The faggot stood there, totally naked. His hands on his head and his head tilted down still." Head up straight boy!" The faggot raised his head.

He saw the room was of finery, like the rest of the hotel. The boy knew that this man had money. Frankie the fag looked directly in front of himself and so he couldn't see the man properly at the side of him. All Frankie had on was his cock cage and the collar. The man was inspecting his body. He felt the mans hands feeling up his buttocks as he moved around the back of Frankie. Feeling up his flanks, like he was nothing but meat. Frankie was beginning to understand that was all he was right then.

He had no idea who the man was that was feeling up his body. The fag could feel the mans fat belly pushed against his back as the mans hairy arms reached round and played with his chest and pecs. He could feel the man's hands cupping his torso like they were some prostitute's breasts. That moment he couldn't feel more like a whore.

"Nice body faggot!" the man whispered in Frankies ear.

"Thankyou sir!" he replied, receiving a slap round his face.

"You are not to speak boy!" the man commanded, "Until I say you can speak!" the man made it clear as he placed a blind fold round the boy's eyes. The man then pulled the boy over to the bed. Little did he know what he was preparing him for. Naturally the boy was shaking but he still did everything that he was ordered to.

The faggot was ordered to get onto the bed, little did the faggot know that he was facing a full-length mirror. The next thing the faggot felt was a cane on his bare legs, then his back. He yelped each time he felt the cane and yet stayed in position as he heard the man laughing.

"You have no idea who I am!" he used the cane again on the fag's bollocks, making Frankie the fag yelp once again. "Your master has been paid for a night with you boy!" he paused again "How does that make you feel boy?"

Many thoughts went through the boy's head. How did he feel that Mal had been paid for this night he would spend with this man? He pondered that thought for a moment. "Owned!" he replied with honesty. Deep inside he wanted this. He knew deep down this man was there to humiliate him. He also thought that it was a test from Mal to see how far he would go. He understood what he needed to do. He would show his loyalty to his new owner and go as far as his new owner wished him to, trusting him all the way.

A few moments later and Frankie felt the man get onto the bed, chuckling as he did. "Owned!" he moved forward on the bed. "You are a twenty-six-year-old faggot owned by a twenty-year-old punk!" he moved closer to the faggot, by this time he had realised that soon he would be fucked by this stranger, this unknown man. He could feel the man rub lube on his fag pussy and feel up his clit cage from underneath. The moan he made was involuntary and yet natural. Despite the attraction of being fucked by the man that he had very little idea of who he was or what he looked like.

"Owned!" the man repeated and chuckled again, "Indeed!" The man pressed forward. The man slowly inserted his cock into the faggot's hole. The man was aware what were some of the thoughts of the fag boy would be. He knew that he would also be wondering who was behind him and was about to fuck him. He knew that the boy was wanting to prove his allegiance to his new master. The man began to speed up a little, enjoying the power he had over the slave.

A little quicker fucking always excites a faggot. His p spot was feeling the cock fuck his pussy. Soon enough the magic was working. It didn't matter to the faggot whose cock it was. He didn't care of what the man looked like. He wasn't as large as Mal but that didn't matter, he could still feel sensation of the fuck. The boy lifted his head up and took the fuck, good and hard. Feeling the man's full length inside of him. He felt the man's hands all over him, feeling up his body. The faggot help but moan even loader. He was in full heat.

"Do you like that boy!"

"Yes. Sir!"

The man contemplated when he should whip the blind fold from the boy. The boy was pushing back even more, enjoying the cock inside of him. He wasn't expecting the next change of events.

Suddenly and without warning the real man whipped the blindfold from the faggot's face. His eyes started to adjust to the light, his face pulled up by the man pulling the fags hair back to ensure that he would see who was inside his hole.

"You see when you are a true faggot then it doesn't matter who the cock that is fucking you belongs to!" the man laughed as the fag's eyes adjusted. His heart dropped. His body began to shake as he orgasm, hands free. The man who was fucking him was a guy that he had refused many times on the app and in real life. He was orgasming as he realised that the ugly fat old man who man lude comments to him hundreds of times.

The faggot hated the guy. He found him repulsive and yet he shot his load whilst being fucked by him. Frankie felt the man cumming inside of his pussy hole with the largest grin on the man's face. Frankie felt the man grope him like a cheap whore.

He had become an old man cum dump. An owned cum dump. Nothing but a piece of property.

It was going to be a long night before he could text his true owner and tell him that he had done what he was asked to do. A long night indeed.

Frankie had not agreed to have his pronouns changed. However, the following morning he went onto the app to report into Mal he noticed that his pronoun was updated. He was now an 'it'. Mal was truly showing his rights as the fag's owner.

Whatever next for the dirty little used faggot. It couldn't be any worse than being used by a fat old man like it had been all night. Or could it.

On the way home it couldn't get that stupid song out of his head. "Sweet dreams are made of these, who am I to disagree. I travel the world and seven seas. Everybody's looking for something..."

Hope you enjoyed this story. If enough have and score it well enough. I may write a third part. I have an idea of where to take this. We will see.