Morning

I heard my phone buzz on the nightstand indicating an incoming text. I looked at the clock. It was 5:30 a.m. My wife was still sl**ping above me in her bed. As usual, I lay on the floor on my simple pallet. I knew who the text was from. Nobody but our owner would text before six in the morning. The only question was who did he want, me or her?

Sighing I reached over and grabbed the phone. The green text box glowed in the darkness. “Cumball for her. I leave at 7”

So there it was.

I rose quietly, but my wife stirred when my leash clinked slightly as I unhitched myself from the bed rail. “What is it?” she said.
"Master texted. Cumball for you this morning, Ma’am."

"Oh God," she said in a disgusted tone. "Hurry up. I have a thing at 8:30. Do a good job. And make sure you are clean down there or I will seriously fuck you up later."

"Yes, Ma’am," I said as I headed for the bathroom.

Closing the door behind me, I flicked on the light and and looked at myself in the mirror.
As usual, I was naked and collared. I looked at the name my owner had given me displayed prominently on the over-sized dog tag. It always made me feel ashamed to read my slave name. It reminded me of what I had become.

I surveyed my body. I was in good shape for a forty-four year-old guy, lean and well-muscled. As per my owner’s instructions I remained completely hairless below the neck. Inevitably, my eyes were drawn down to my once proud phallus.

My flaccid penis was now a shriveled hairless mouse encased in a clear plastic chastity cage. I hadn’t been allowed to touch my own cock in over six months. I was no longer permitted to achieve an erection. My wife would report any infractions immediately to our owner.

The cage came off once a week under the watchful eye of my wife, who had become my reluctant overseer. She would soap me down and clean me with a damp wash cloth before locking me back up. She usually hummed while she did it, like she was washing the dishes. The ritual was completely devoid of any hint of sexuality, it was simply a chore she had been ordered to complete by our mutual owner. I was always plugged and cuffed during these ablutions. Other than that I kept myself clean down there by rinsing through my little cage in the shower and blow drying afterward.

I squatted on the toilet and emptied myself. The next ritual took some getting used to. Wincing slightly, I picked up the enema nozzle and guided it up my ass. I was not permitted to use lube. I cleaned myself out as I had been trained and got in the shower.

In the shower I shaved myself above and below the waist as usual. I was careful and methodical. Any stray hairs found by my wife or owner would result in swift punishment.

When I was done I stepped out of the shower and dried off. I put my collar back on and opened the medicine cabinet and took down two items: a small bottle of lube and a large 2 1/2 inch butt plug.

I applied the lube and squatted. I felt another twinge of shame at how easily the large plug entered my trained asshole. It was used to such invasions by now.

I left the bathroom and dressed quietly in the Pre-dawn gloom. My wife was asl**p again. I slipped out of the bedroom and down the stairs and into the garage. In my car, I removed my collar and hit the remote to open the garage door. I backed out. The ride to my owner’s house took only six minutes. I had timed it on many occasions. It was still dark outside.

Soon enough my headlights found my owner’s driveway. He lived in an impressive house with a broad manicured lawn. I parked my car and used my key to enter the side door of his attached garage. Once inside, I stripped and put on my collar. I also put on my hood.

I was always hooded during use. My hood was made out of spandex (for easy washing). It had a single large hole for my mouth, but no eye holes. The material was thin enough so that I could see out, but nobody could see in. My eyes and facial expressions were invisible. This is how my owner liked it. He said the hood helped reinf***e my new role as a service a****l instead of a human being. Plus, he thought it made me look funny, which added to my humiliation and amused him. But the hood had a practical purpose as well: it preserved my anonymity when my owner lent me out to others or used me to entertain his frequent guests, male and female. My wife had a similar hood she wore when being used.

Once inside. I silently ascended the stairs to his bedroom. The door was ajar. The house was completely quiet. I hesitated for only a moment before dropping to my knees and crawling inside.

I approached the bed and assumed my position, kneeling with my face pressed to the floor and my hands clasped behind my back. I waited.
No words were exchanged. Master seldom talked to me because he thought of me as a pet, not a person. After about a minute, I heard him snap his fingers, which was my signal to begin. I slowly rose up and pulled back the covers revealing my owner’s nude form. Even as a straight male, I could appreciate the magnificence of his body. At 33' he was toned and sculpted. He had minimal body hair and flawless skin. with minimal body hair. He was on his back with his hands at his sides. His eyes were closed. I gently reached down and spread his legs apart, creating a place for me to settle in between them. After that, no hands were allowed.

I leaned forward and nuzzled his cock and balls with my face. Then I began to gently lick his balls, giving both equal attention. After a few minutes, he spread his legs further, indicating that he wanted his ass reamed. I leaned in further, spreading him with my face so that my tongue could lave his asshole deeply and broadly. I did my best to service my owner’s asshole for about twenty minutes. I took pride in my work. My shriveled cock twitched in its cage when I heard him grunt in satisfaction.

By now, his cock was starting to rise. He was well endowed with a thick eight inches. He reached down and directed my mouth to his shaft. I had been training as his cocksucker for six months. I was now an expert. I swirled my tongue around his head, then quickly engulfed him to the hilt. My gag reflex was long gone and he slid in without so much as a hiccup from me. I quickly established a rhythm, breathing easily through my nose. I could suck his cock like this for hours without stopping (and had done so during training as he watched football and drank beer), but this was not why I was here.

Abruptly he pulled out of my mouth with an audible “plop.” He raised himself up on his knees and said conversationally, “Unplug.”
I got on all fours facing away from my owner and reached back and removed my plug. There was another audible “plop” as it was pulled free from its lubricated suction. As i had been trained, I transferred the plug to my mouth where my lips closed around it like an obscene pacifier. I pressed my head down into the pillow and eached back with both hands to spread my ass cheeks.

Like my slave hood, my butt plug was used for both symbolic and practical purposes. My owner explained on many occasions that the plug demonstrated his ownership of my ass. It signified that my asshole no longer belonged to me, but to him, to be used as a wet hole for his pleasure. He laughed when he called the plug “his placeholder” and ordered me to wear it to work. While in place, the plug was a constant reminder that I was another man's ass-whore.

But the plug also had a more pragmatic purpose, which was being demonstrated this morning: It stretched my asshole out, so it could more easily accommodate his large cock. My hole was open and lubricated My owner would not be inconvenienced by having to methodically work his cock in slowly. I was trained for easy use. Presently, felt the head pressed up against me. It entered easily and he set to fucking me at a leisurely pace. it used to hurt when my owner used my ass, but that was many months ago. Now I sometimes found myself enjoying the feeling of fullness as he thrust in to me and found his rhythm.

As my owner fucked my ass, I reflected on the irony of my situation. I was a straight, married, successful suburban male being ass-fucked by a much younger straight male. I sometimes found it frustrating that my owner was not gay, but that he still desired to use me in this way. He said he enjoyed making me his faggot whore, especially in front of my wife, because it demonstrated, like nothing else, his complete ownership of my very being. For him, it wasn’t the gay sex that turned him on, it was my complete surrender and submission. To emphasize this point, my owner would often make me look up at him as I swallowed his cum, so he could witness the final extinction of resistance in my eyes. On those occasions, I was not allowed to break eye contact until I thanked him for his cum.

I was snapped out of my reverie when I felt the cock in my ass quicken its pace. As trained, I clenched my ass cheeks to help increase his pleasure and milk his cock into me. I felt the familiar jack-hammer staccato tempo as he neared his climax. I pushed back against him to allow him to penetrate me as deeply as possible. My flaccid, denuded penis flapped uselessly against my belly in its plastic cage as my owner bore into me. At last I felt a subtle swelling of the head of his cock followed by a few quick thrusts and a final exclamatory, impaling plunge. I felt his cock twitch as he pumped his cum deep in to my ass. I whimpered against the plug in my mouth as he grabbed both ass cheeks and squeezed hard, emptying himself into me.

Then it was over. I felt my owner’s cock start to soften in my ass. I was breathing heavily through my nose and drooling around the plug in my mouth. “Re-plug,” he said in that same conversational tone as he pulled out of me. I removed the plug from my mouth and re-inserted it in my ass, sealing his cum deep inside.

"Clean," he said as he shoved his cum covered cock in my face. I was glad I had cleaned myself out well prior to my ass fucking as I took him in my mouth and sucked him clean. He laid back and flipped on the TV as I continued my ministrations.

After about fifteen minutes of suckling, my owner brusquely kicked me out of his bed. I knew the routine; I was excused. I crawled to the door then crept naked back to the cold garage. I removed my collar and quickly dressed in the dark. It was time to go home to my wife.

I arrived home at about 6:45 a.m. After pulling in to the garage and shutting the door, I got out of the car and stripped and put on my collar. The butt plug squished in my ass as I walked through the house and made my way back upstairs to our bedroom.

My wife was still asl**p in her bed. Silently, I knelt down on my pallet and re-attached my leash to my collar. The leather handle of the leash was looped over the bed rail. This is how I slept since our owner had come in to our lives. I lay down and waited for her to awaken.

I must have dozed off. When I awoke, my wife was standing over me. She was nude.

“How was it?” she asked.

"It went well, Ma’am," I said. "I think he was pleased."

"Such a good little cocksucker. Let’s get this over with," she said.

"Yes, Ma’am."

I stood up, detaching the leash from my collar. My wife lay flat on her back on the bed. I climbed on and squatted over her face.

"Are you ready, Ma’am?" I said.

"Yes, just hurry, OK?"

I reached back and slowly pulled the plug out of my ass. Per my usual instructions, I placed the plug in my mouth. Then I pushed.
I could feel Master’s cum starting to leak out of my ass. I had been on the receiving end of these “cumballs” several times, slurping cum out of my wife’s ass for my master’s amusement. I knew that she would be seeing a pearlescent ball of semen gradually expanding on the rim of my open anus. Her orders were to wait until the ball stopped growing and then to slurp the entire gob of cum in to her mouth. I felt her kneading my ass, trying to make sure all the cum was out. If she failed to get it all, I would have to tell master and she would be punished. I continued to push.

"I think that’s it," she said.

I felt her tongue on my ass and then heard a loud slurping sound as she sucked in the cumball. She knew not to swallow.

Quickly she sat up. She looked at me and opened her mouth. I could see the large pool of cum on the floor of her mouth. I grabbed my iPhone and took a picture which clearly showed her face and the cum. Master always required photos.

It was my turn. I lay down on the bed and removed the plug from my mouth. I opened as wide as I could. My wife leaned down and let the cum dribble from her mouth to mine. I didn’t swallow.

I sat up and my wife got my iPhone and got ready to take my picture for master. She hesitated. “Look at you with all that cum in your mouth. Did you ever think you’d end up like this? Swallowing another man’s cum that came out of your own asshole?”

I averted my gaze and looked down. I couldn’t speak with master’s cum in my mouth and I couldn’t swallow until she took the picture confirming that I had completed my task as ordered.

I thought about my life. This was how it was now. Since our owner came in to our life, my designated role was cum-eater. I no longer produced cum, I only consumed it. Whenever a man ejaculated in my presence, it was my duty to seek out and eat his cum. It didn’t matter if he came on the floor or in my ass or inside my wife. I was always got the cum. My master liked to watch me gobble it up wherever it was. If I missed any, I would be punished, so I always attended to the task with alacrity. It made my owner laugh. It was doubly frustrating for me because I myself was rarely allowed to achieve orgasm, so my only contact with semen was when I was eating the cum from another man.

My wife smiled and looked down at the tag on my collar. “Well, the name fits,” she said.

She aimed the phone and took the picture. “Smile!” she said.

I did not smile. I held my mouth open so that the puddle of cum would be clearly visible. She took the picture.

Only then could I swallow my master’s cum. I didn’t grimace. I was used to the taste. My wife looked at me as she handed me the phone. “Good job, slut,” she said.

I looked at the image which had been captured. There I was, my face clearly visible. You could also see the leaden mass of cum on the floor of my open mouth. Also, clearly visible, was my collar and tag. It was an over-sized plastic dog tag, red background with white lettering, shaped like a heart. My name was clearly visible for all to see: “Cumboi.”