Content Warning
The following story contains themes and language some readers may not find acceptable. These include musk, complete domination, and derogatory language. If you find any of this to be not to your liking, may I suggest you checkout my catalog.
Mark strolled through the doorway of the small, detached house he owned. ‘Own’ is a relative term here. The bank owned it and he was paying the mortgage. A few months prior and this distinction would have been irrelevant to Mark; after getting laid off, this distinction was critical. No more could he pay the full bill on the greatly reduced income he was making in the gig economy. Cuts had to be made.
The specific cut was currently lounging on the couch playing the latest FPS in what appeared to be the same workout clothes he’d left in this morning. Named Tyler, or Ty as he insisted, the cut Mark had to make was giving up his home office and letting someone rent the room.
Ty had only been living there a couple of days, but already he was making his presence known. While they each had their own rooms, the bathroom, living room, and kitchen were shared. In none of these places was Ty greedy in his allocation of space but the sudden cramptness was jarring to a man who’d been living solo up until now.
Stepping out of the mud room, the primary area of Ty’s encroachment hit Mark like a brick wall. An oppressive wall of stench assaulted Mark’s olfactory as his eyes watered. “Jesus Christ!” he yelled out as his watery vision began to clear. “Did you not shower after work, Tyl…Ty!” Mark corrected himself before his new roommate would comment.
Without breaking eye content with the TV, Ty lifted his arm and sniffed his pit. “Guess not, oh well. Not that bad bro.”
Ty was an up and coming personal trainer and was quickly gaining a following on Instagram and twitter from his natty results. Work for him was hanging out in the gym, coaching people here and there, and posing for pictures. Already making good money from his bulging arms, beefy chest, and sculped back, he could have easily afforded his own place. When probed about his, his response was simple. He didn’t need that much space.
Mark walked, nearly storming, through the living room and into his last remnant of unquestioned authority. Closing the door, his head finally began to clear. Subconsciously, Mark knew he’d overreacted.
From a young age, Mark always had a strong sense of smell. While there were many odors that he wasn’t fond of, the one Mark hated the most was BO. Even as a teen he would spend great lengths of time and money to ensure he never had even the slightest whiff of BO.
Shaking the last of the scent from his scenes, Mark sat down at his computer for a relaxing night of gaming, leaving Ty to do his own thing.
A week later…
Mark stepped into his house and was met by a scent he was begrudgingly getting used to. Ty was lounging on the couch playing some FPS with is feet on the coffee table as always. In the back of his mind, Mark noted that he was wearing red socks today.
The rest of what Ty wore was interchangeable stringer tees and trunks. Almost devoid of logos or identifiable marks, his socks were different. Every day was the same nike crew cut, just in a different color.
Mark made no comment as he walked to his room and closed the door behind him. Shaking the scent form his nose, he was shocked to find it would not vacate! Quickly he started scanning the room for a source. He found none.
Having left his door open today by mistake, Mark turned back towards the door. Sticking his head out, he yelled over the TV, “Hey Ty, been in my room today?”
Without breaking his focus, Ty called back “Nay brah.” And returned to gaming.
‘Must have just wafted in.’ Mark closed the door and reached for the nearest bottle of air freshener. He hated using it for the overpowering stench of another kind it produced, but he couldn’t relax in this state. Spraying it heavily, Mark was relieved that the BO was gone.
He sat down at his computer and fired up the latest 4X game and geared himself up for an all nighter. The game dropped today after all.
Slowly as he gamed, the scent of Ty returned. Easily missindefinable at first, its potency increased at the rate of molasses over the next hour until Mark could smell nothing else. Aggravated by its return, Mark left the game and hosed the room down in air freshener once more before returning to the game he’d already fallen in love with.
The air freshener did not hold. If anything, Ty’s BO returned in half the time. Once again aggravated, Mark decided to ignore it this time. He sat there gaming as Ty’s overpowering stench filled every receptor in his nose.
Hours later, Mark emerged from his room at daybreak. Passively in his sleep deprived mind, Mark noted that the stench out here wasn’t as bad as it was in his room.
Nearly zombified, he grabbed something to eat and climbed in bed. Somewhere between sleep and wake, Mark thought he heard his door open and then close a moment later. In his current state, that thought was categorized as a dream and was quickly forgotten.
A few days later…
Mark pulled into his driveway. A scowl was already forming on his face as he looked at Ty’s mustang. Mark had hopped to get home first today. The potency of Ty’s foul stench in his room had only grown over the last few days and air freshener no longer did anything. He needed to get to the bottom of it.
Through the front window, Mark could clearly see Ty stepping out of his room and closing the door. Having not noticed Mark, Ty walked to his own room.
Mark was furious that Ty would violate one of the only rules of the house and ecstatic that he’d just caught him in the act. He proceeded to sneak into his own house and into his room. As always, it smelled far worse than it had when he’d left this morning.
Scouring the room, searching high and low, Mark finally found it. Just under his bed out of easy eyeshot but within reach, Mark pulled forth Ty’s reeking size 14 gym shoes.
So close to his face, the stench was overpowering. Every instinct was telling Mark to confront Ty now but he couldn’t. The scent was so overpowering that his head was swimming. ‘So rancid. So discussing. So strong. So… hot…’ Against his will, Mark pulled the reeking shoe to his face as his cock grew hard.
Gently inhaling, the scent was so strong that he couldn’t think of anything. A thick haze covered his conscious and unconscious minds so thoroughly that all he could do was continue to sit there and smell the dirty shoe.
The orgasm crept up on him. As cum flied from his cock, Mark was finally able to pull the shoe away. With his head clearing Mark felt lost. ‘W-when did I pull my cock out… and when did I start masturbating…?’
A week later…
Mark stepped into his room and sighed. He was racked with guilt and shame over his action of the past week and for the action he was about to make. Despite himself, the first thing he’d done upon getting home was pulling out Ty’s potent gym shoes from under his bed and smelling them while he jerked off.
Before meeting Ty, he would have been repulsed at the action. Even now, guilt coated the post nut clarity with ever growing margins. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself.
After finishing his shameful act and coursing with extra guilt, Mark made his way to the kitchen. To his luck, Ty was in his room. Mark couldn’t look at Ty anymore. Afraid to accidently convey his guilt through eye contact and afraid to stare at the big manly feet that produced the stench he found so horny, Mark tried to avoid all contact.
Almost there, something caught his attention. Laying on the back of the couch was one of Ty’s clearly used jockstraps. Immediately the piece of cloth consumed Mark’s attention. Even at this distance, he could already smell it. Taking a step closer, Mark could already smell that it was indeed Ty’s.
Grabbing the jock and pulling it close to his face, he inhaled deeply. The potent smell filled his nose and brain. Even though his fogged state, Mark could tell it was different than Ty’s shoes. It held a strong testicular note that danced across his neurons all the same. His cock was getting hard once again.
Snapped out of his scent fueled haze, Mark heard the door to Ty’s room open. He threw the jock into his back pocket like lightning. Regaining his composure, he attempted to mask the bulge in his pants. They greeted cordially as Ty jumped on the couch and Mark entered the kitchen. A passing thought crossed his mind before he started. ‘Ty’s bulge seemed very large today.’
The next morning Mark awoke with horror. Laying right there on the pillow, next to where his head had been lay a dirty, smelly jockstrap a different color than the one he’d unconsciously swiped the night before.
Attempting to ponder how it got there, he kept getting distracted. The strong odder so close to him made his body feel hot as he began to pant. Mind fully consumed, he pulled the jock to his face and laid back down. Huffing deeply, he stroked his cock to completion and was rewarded with a mind numbing orgasm.
As the post nut clarity rolled in, Mark snuck the jocks into Ty’s laundry.
A few days later…
Mark was on edge. Returning the jocks had apparently been a mistake he was already regretting. Ty had stopped leaving his smelly, stinky workout shoes under Mark’s bed. Previously, this would have made Mark happy, instead it left him in a pickle.
For whatever reason, Mark couldn’t get fully hard for porn anymore. Regardless of genre or intensity, Mark couldn’t fully get it up. On top of that, Ty had clearly stopped showering altogether, leaving his stench so potent that Mark got a chubby every time he came in contact.
After another failed attempt at jerking off, Mark pulled up his pants and moved to get a drink of water.
In the living room, Ty was in his normal place playing some FPS with his feet on the coffee table. ‘His big feet. His smelly feet. His…sexy feet.’ Mark’s attention was instantly consumed. So horny and desperate for the erotic aroma they produced, he stepped towards them. Ty was saying something but Mark didn’t know what. All he could think of was the big sexy feet wearing Ty’s standard crew cut nike socks. Black today.
Without any trace of recognition for his surroundings, Mark got on his knees and pressed his face into the nearest foot. His cock was already throbbing as he inhaled deeply and loudly. The glorious smell already dancing on his mind, he inhaled again and again. He stayed there smelling until he felt the wetness of his orgasm in his pants.
Today’s post nut clarity hit like nothing else. In a near out of body experience, Mark identified every detail. He was kneeling in front of Ty, smelling his dirty feet, and just came. Ty, for his part, just sat there with a jeer across his face and a raging bulge.
Out of sheer panic, Mark darted to his room and slammed the door behind him. He would not leave his room for the rest of the night, regardless of how hungry or thirsty he got.
The following morning Mark finally left his room. What greeted him was both unsettling but comforting.
Ty was in the kitchen cooking, completing his weekly meal prep. Acting as if nothing happened the night before, he reached out. “Want some food. Made to much prep.”
Mark cautiously agreed and sat down at the table. Ty brought over a bowl of heavily spiced and herbed food before taking the seat opposite. Mark, could not look at Ty, so he stared at his food and ate.
Halfway through, Ty finally spoke again. “Feelin’ better, faggot?”
Mark was taken aback for a moment, then composed all his confidence. “I’m not a faggot.” He spoke as cool and emotionless as he could.
“Then what about last night, faggot? Did I imagine you walking up to my big musky feet and takin’ strong huffs until your little fag dick came?” The jeer had returned to Ty’s face as he spoke.
Mark knew he was caught. There wasn’t any passable explanation for his actions. Feeling trapped, he tried to hold his ground. “I said, I’m not a faggot, dick.”
“Alright, alright. Tell ya’ what. You pass one little test and I’ll know you ain’t a fag.” The jeer had subsided but Ty was still clearly enjoying himself.
“What’s the test?” Mark spoke without fully thinking. Subtly, he’d just admitted that he could be a fag and that a test would be necessary.
Ty reached under the table and grabbed something. He then moved the bowl of food out of the way and placed one of his dirty, smelly gym shoes in its place. “Haven’t taken ‘em off yet. Let it sit there for five minutes, and you ain’t a fag. Simple as that.”
The gears of Mark’s mind were spinning the moment the scent, or musk as Ty seemed to call it, hit his nose. All he had to do was survive a few short minutes. ‘I don’t need it.’ Played on repeat in his head. Time began so slow as he stared at the shoe teasing his senses made his dick throb.
After what felt like an eternity, Ty finally spoke again. “Guess I was wrong.” He reached to remove the shoe.
Right before Ty’s hand made contact with his shoe, the resistance within Mark finally broke. He did need it. He needed to smell that dirty, rancid shoe more than he needed anything else. Even with the orgasm the night before, Mark had never experienced this level of arousal.
Mark grabbed the shoe and pulled it to his face. Upon making contact, he inhaled deeply and moaned into the shoe. Even through hazed eyes, he could see the jeer growing on Ty.
Ty got up and grabbed Mark by the collar, dragging him. At the couch, he threw Mark onto his back. In a swift motion, he removed Mark’s pants and exposed the raging dick. On hand pinning the chest, he forced the legs to spread. He lined up his cock and before thrusting it in, he forced his shoe back onto Mark’s face.
Ty thrust in. “Yeah, you a dirty little fag, aren’t ya?”
Mark tried to keep his ass closed, but with every inhale the musculature relaxed. With little effort, Ty’s huge, lubbed cock was sliding into him. Working its way into his virginal hole as a pressure began to build. As Ty pulled out and thrust back in, Mark was in no condition to argue. All he could do was moan.
“Feel that big alpha cock fag? Lettin’ my man stank fill you up? That’s right you are. Such a pathetic little musk fag. Yeah, breath it in faggit. You’re so fuckin’ hot when you worship my musk as you should.” Ty continued speaking as he fucked. With fire in his eyes, he utilized all of his musculature to fuck the sexy fag high on his musk.
Ty’s cock throbbed in Mark’s ass after one final thrust. The pressure the shaft was enforcing on that one spot that felt so good and the high of the musky shoe brought Mark to the breaking point. Cum dribbled out of his untouched cock as a moan crossed his lips.
The shoe was removed and Mark could finally see again. Still above him, Ty looked radiant. The spattering of hair was a perfect outline, muscles glimmering in musk producing sweat, and a jeer that left Mark both excited and nervous. A new instinct took over as he was finally able to speak again through heavy breathing. “T-thank yo…u M-ma-master.”
The jeer of Ty’s face only grew larger at hearing this. “God damn, you’re perfect, little fag.”
Sometime later…
Mark lay in a position that was now normal to him. Everyday upon getting home from work, Mark would strip down and wait for Master Ty’s first order. Said order was rarely explicit, rather it was a subtle kicking of his foot, scratching of his crotch, or raising of his arm that instructed Mark where to go and what to do.
Today’s position of choice had Mark laying on his back, feet pointed towards Ty. For his part, Ty’s big, socked feet rested on Mark’s chest. The toes were long enough to reach Mark’s noise as he huffed while working his little fag dick.
Ty was wearing his black nike crew cuts once again. Actually, that’s not quite right; ‘once again’ implies Ty ever took them off. In actuality, Ty had been wearing the same pair of socks since Mark first huffed his feet.
Between matches, Ty would make comments to the fag busy worshiping him. “Such a good fag, huffing my big smelly feet while bating that little fag dick. Lettin’ my musk keep you hazy and horny. You want some more?” While he spoke, Ty would gently stoke his cock through his shorts as he relished the sight before him.
“Nnnnggmgghff.” A string of inarticulate sounds worked their way out of Mark, muffled by the socks.
Ty was well aware that his was the closest his hazed out little musk fag could get to a real response, but he knew he wanted more. Ty pressed his feet onto Mark’s face harder, forcing Marks’ big nose right between the toes. “Alright fag, cum for my musk.”
Mark didn’t need to be instructed twice. He picked up the pace of his bating, the inarticulate moans growing in severity. Finally his orgasm arrived, marked by an extra pathetic sounding moan as his cum covered his belly.
Before entering the queue for the next match, Ty gently slapped his foot against Mark’s face. This was Ty’s subtle instruction that he wasn’t done yet. Ty pointed to his pit as he raised his arm. Mark climbed onto the couch and sat down before leaning in close, face buried in a new source of musk to worship.
Mark resumed his stroked as he huffed. His cock, or little fag dick as he thought of it now thanks to Ty, was rarely flaccid at home. The constant presence of Ty’s powerful musk was so pervasive and Mark had become so deeply hooked on Ty’s musk that he was constantly aroused.
Ty gazed down at Mark with excitement as he watched the fag huff. “You listening, fag?” Mark responded with an inarticulate moan while nodding. “Good, I have a proposition for you.” He paused for effect. “I’m going to take over all the finances and you’ll stop working. Instead, you’ll handle all the chores, cooking and cleaning, and get to fag out to my manly musk 24/7. So, my dirty little musk fag, you in?”
Mark’s response was succinct. Another orgasm shot from his cock as a more pathetic moan escaped his lips.
The jeer on Ty’s face was in full force as he pulled his shorts down, revealing his big throbbing cock. “Good. Now get to work fag!”
Mark dove onto the cock and began working on his master’s pleasure.
One year later…
Kneeling in the living room, Mark had a dirty jock pressed to his face while stroking his little fag dick. All of his chores for the day were complete, leaving him some free time to do what he loved.
Ty was currently occupied with a livestream for his ever growing internet following. Even from the other room, Mark could tell Ty had worked up a fierce musk producing sweat. Having converted Mark’s bedroom into a home gym, the time differential between Ty’s glorious musk production and Mark’s enthusiastic worship was nonexistent.
The knowledge that Ty would soon emerge drenched in sweat drove Mark closer to the edge; an edge he would not cross. Mark was well aware he needed his master’s permission to cum, so he dutifully edged himself.
Sometime later, Ty finally emerged from the home gym. The sweat covering him shined in the afternoon light. Upon seeing his perfect little musk fag fagging out to his jock, his cock began to stir. He grabbed the back of his fag’s head and pulled him upward. Once standing, he placed his fag’s head in his damp pit and ordered the fag to cum.
While watching yet another load shoot from his fag’s dick, Ty reminisced over the past year or so. Identifying Mark as a possible musk fag had gone better then he could have ever hopped. Watching him fag out to his manly musk always filled Ty with dominant carnal desire.
Passively, he remembered that it was an important day. It was the one year anniversary of Mark becoming his full time, live in, musk fag. In that moment, he decided to celebrate the special occasion. Tonight, he’d pump many a load into his fag and he’d let Mark fag out over every musky place like the perfect little musk fag he was.
As Mark continued huffing and licking, Ty couldn’t think of a more perfect arrangement.
Magic Fable 