You thought all those stories about fags being beaten up and used as the town fag fuck hole down south we're just that, fake stories. So you moved down South to a small town and found a job at the local bank and thought this is nice, I'll be happier, it's nice and quiet I'm sick of the city, people here are friendly laid-back Southerners and probably much nicer and friendlier than up north. And it'll be less stressful. Well, after being there for 2 weeks you got beaten up four times. And one of those four guys started stalking you. He ended up beating you up 10 times. On the 10th time he said I'm going to keep beating you up until you're nothing but pulp unless you move into my house and become my slave. You take care of my house and all other duties having to do with my property. And you'll be thankful and you'll sleep in the crawl space under my trailer. You were terrified but you looked at him and said, you're kidding of course I wouldn't do that. He beat you down again worse than ever. Then he said how about now? You said yes Sir. Before you knew it you had sold all your stuff and broke your lease and moved in with him. Part of your job every day he came home from work was to kneel down at his feet and take off his work boots and sniff kiss worship and massage his sweaty smelly stinky socked feet. He only changed them like once or twice a month. He would take a nice nap and relax while you did that for however long he slept. Sometimes it could be half an hour, sometimes it could be 2 hours, and when he woke up he'd slap you across the face with his stinking socked feet and say go make my dinner faggot.
