Another night of fruitless searching. Anthony was exhausted–he’d been at this for months now, and he was beginning to think he’d never find his Master, as he took another inhale of the boxer briefs. The clothes had come in an unlabeled box on his doorstep–the rank, filthy clothes of his Master, or at least, that’s who Anthony knew he was now that he’d become addicted to the stench. 

He couldn’t bring himself to wear anything else–he’d quit his job and spent his days scouring the city, sniffing dirty men, hoping he would recognize the smell of his Master. He’d just finished jacking off in an alley, feeling hopeless, when his nose caught something–something fresh. He scurried out of the alley, eyes wild, nose snorting, and he bounded off down the sidewalk. 

There he was–he had found him! He could see his Master’s filthy clothes up ahead, and he charged on, tackling him to the ground, burying his nose deep in his Master’s pit and inhaling the rich, fresh musk he’d spent months searching for. Hide and seek was over–he had proven his devotion, and now, he would truly serve.

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