At the behest of our most dear MOA, a fictional short (given my non-fiction at best gets mixed reviews)...

Some stories begin about a quiet girl, moving to a small rainy town. Vampires hide in plain sight. Tribal werewolves are stolid custodians of the land for generations long since passed. Love and lust fuel conflict and calamity, where the only thing more powerful than fleeting life is love's immortality. This is not that shitty story. No, this tells a far more gripping tale... one of obedience, of struggle, and of two owned fags quarrelling on command.

It all begin in the dead of the night. A man, some say more than that, had been out at the pub. It'd been a long day in a longer year, and the evening's end whispered. Though he spends his day working, he couldn't help but drift back to it for a quick chat. Sure enough, some light banter was afoot. A sissy and a tame fag were exchanging pleasantries. The banality of it all simply did not suit the Supreme. He stepped in swiftly, "Sos. Subcorey. The two of you will duel. I want to know whom among these lowly bottoms would be the top. Amuse the Master of all." The soft music that wandered through the café's dim lit air stumbled to a halt as the vinyl's needle fell out of the groove. The barback, a long-time member of the café by the name coloslutty, stopped breathless as he wiped the countertops. 

MOA's voice boomed, "All the tables to the wall. I want a space in the middle. Time for some fun..."

The two slaves knew what was to come next. Sheepishly, they stripped down to the nude. The café snickered with laughter in anticipation. In the corner, stood a brooding figure, chomping a thick, long, dark cigar. Clad in leather, only two steely eyes cut their way across the room. He gave MOA a nod. No more was needed. In the other corner, a headless figure sat, with his pen floating across the page. He seemed to be noting the events at hand. He too gave MOA that same knowing nod.

Permissions set. There would... a tussle. The naked fags stood just a few paces apart. The café tense with eager excitement.

Seconds of silence felt like hours. An entire room of baited breaths... and then, "Begin!" MOA sternly shouted.

With a feral pounce, sissy lunged beneath corey's lumbering arm, to quickly take his back. Regardless of being lowly slaves, watching two men wiggle and writhe in struggle had the whole room in heat... whispers of approval quickly turned to bellowing cheers, save the two respective owners who watched on in silence. The sissy clung the corey's buxom chest, but the Canadian faggot used every ounce of his heft to shake off the dainty damsel. Losing no time, the slut leapt back at corey, wrestling face to face, their lips just inches apart. Seeming half dance, half distress both fags' little cocks quickly began to twitch. Despite the hunger to win, it was obvious everyone in the room was savouring the ecstasy at play. With a burly toss, corey picked up the sissy and tossed her to the floor, landing on top of her. That heavy stomach pressed down on her delicate frame, but her lithe limbs kept his control at bay. Mounted, the little whore seemed almost wanting the thick fag to press down upon her, but she knew she needed to win for her Master. A quick twist of corey's dicklet, and he squealed in agony... quickly MOA stated, "I'll allow it."

With corey's tiny cock in the slut's hand, she knew that leverage would be her only way to victory. A barreling leg struck away the sissy's grasp, and corey crawled back up to his knees. Sweat began to sprinkle the floor. Two alabaster bodies glistening as the sheer endurance of tussling began to set in... Sheepishly, the sissy ambled forward toward corey gasping for air. In reply, corey hardly managed to defend her assault. The only body parts clearly still at the ready were their puny cocklets, now leaking precum across the café floor mixing in with the many droplets of sweat...

Through the crowd, came a mountain of a man. Strangely, he was naked wearing only a pendant on a string. A piercing sapphire amulet with cyan and white rings.

MOA ceased the fighting, "Stop. Chub stands before us. Chub... say what you must."

The towering titan spoke, "Why not bumper cars instead?"

And then they played bumper cars and neither won. The end.