Life had not been easy for me. I had moved into a house on my own but was absolutely skint. I was finding that what little money I did have was going straight out as soon as I had it. Indeed, I was practically living off handouts from my parents.
A little bit about the teller of this story. My name is Marcus, I lived in a rural part of the country, about an hour and a half away from my parents and not knowing a single soul in this neck of the woods. I suppose it is customary to describe what I look like as well. I am 6ft, black hair, blue eyes, with a lean physique and a cock which could reach nine inches when he was particularly in the mood. I'm 23 and have always known I was gay and tended to lean on the more bottom side of the sexual experimentation. No matter how many times I've tried to top, my cock couldn't get hard as soon as it was near an arsehole.
My luck changed for the better and in a way that I couldn't have expected. First of all, I had a break when the tax man decided that I had been paying too much tax and ended up giving me half a month's wages extra back. This gave me enough money to go and get a deposit for somewhere a little more affordable.
I found a little bit of luck and found a room in a house sharing with a couple and was 10 minutes walk from my old place. The advert also said the couple were out of the house a lot so there were many weekends where they would have free reign. A quick phone call later chatting to a guy with a Scottish accent called Scott and I was on my way for a quick look to inspect the room I would soon be calling home. At least I hoped.
After enjoying a rare time when things were going okay, I found I had arrived at the place and knocked on the door. Nothing prepared me for what Scott looked like. He was a good 6ft 4, towering over me with a beefy rugby player type build and with small amounts of chest hair poking out of a polo shirt. He had short brown hair and piercing blue eyes. I tried to avoid gawping at him but suspect I probably did for an unnaturally long time.
"You must be Marcus," he said in an accent which could have melted even the most hardened ice maidens.
"Yeah I am, nice to meet you," extending my hand to his. A firm handshake. The kind you would expect from a man of his stature.
He showed me in and we were chatting about work, where we both came from, football teams (soccer if you're in the States) while he was showing me the rooms around the house. It was a good sized place and hopefully the room I was renting would be a good one.
So lo and behold, he showed me the room and it was a good size. More than enough for a double bed and plenty of room for a television and everything I could possibly need on the nights when I wasn't feeling particularly social.
"What do you think of the room?" He asked.
"It's £350 isn't it?"
"Yeah, about that. Before you say yes to things. I think there is something I need to clarify with you. My partner is another man. Does that bother you?"
Even though this revelation came as news to me, I didn't think anything more because one the guy has a partner and two, thought it would be fairly unlikely it would bother me.
"No, doesn't bother me at all. I'm gay too," I replied.
"That's interesting," he said with a smile on his face. "Don't worry, I wouldn't try and break you two up. Where is your other half, if you don't mind me asking?"
"He's out fucking someone," he said, matter of factly. Like this was a regular occurrence.
"That doesn't bother you."
"We have an open relationship. We are both tops."
At this point, he had a phone call. He excused himself and went away to answer his phone.
I had to admit at getting more than a little turned on at this precise moment. There was something so controlling about this man. His manner, tone and presence was both reassuring and dominant at the same time. If he wasn't in a relationship, he would have been ideal boyfriend material for me. But he is in a relationship, so wouldn't do anything to rock that boat.
He came back and asked me something.
"So, I'll give you an option. Option 1, the rent is £350 a month, all inclusive of bills and no extra costs to worry about."
"That sounds fine to me."
"Or you can go for option 2. The rent will be £200 a month but there'll be certain things you have to do for both of us."
"What kind of things?"
I was worried now. What were these other things?
"Let me show you," he said. And with that, any nerves seemed to go away.
I was taken back downstairs to another room in the house. One that I hadn't been shown on the initial tour. It was connected to the house towards the back garden but was clearly an extension. The lights were off as we entered the room, but they were quickly turned on.
What I could see was a whole host of equipment. It ranged from dildos and butt plugs through to some of the more extreme stuff. Leather, rubber, nipple clamps, whips, paddies All sorts of stuff. Stuff that I had only ever seen on an internet screen as opposed to real life.
"I think you can probably guess. We are not just tops, we are both dominant tops. I can give you a taste of what your life would be like if you chose option 2. I won't force you to make a decision tonight, but if you are intrigued, you'll get to see what it would be like."
"What is option 2?"
"Option two is that you become a sex slave for us. There will be limits in place and things that we do not expect you to do, but to all intents and purposes, you'll be available should either of us want to use you."
"What if your other half doesn't like me?," my brain picking out probably the least obvious question of the whole thing.
"He will," Scott said.
It was at this point that everything started spinning around my head. I could try this lifestyle that I had always fantasised about even though there were several alarm bells going off in my head. It was at this point, I flicked my attention briefly over to the wall and saw a cross, with two pieces of wood going diagonally with some leather straps on it.
"I think you want to try it," he said, breaking a silence which felt like minutes rather than seconds.
"Why do you say that?"
"I can see your cock through your jeans."
Any anxiety that I had about the whole thing was being betrayed by my cock, which was rock hard in my pants.
It was at this point that he guided me towards the cross I had been looking and he kissed me softly while doing so. He was gentle, perhaps understanding how nervous I was. He started by taking my unbuttoning the shirt I was wearing, once it was off, I felt my naked back against the wood.
He grabbed my left wrist and tied my arm to one of the straps and then did the same with my right wrist.
It was then that he got a leather blindfold out and strapped it across my eyes.
My anxiety increased while my nipples were gently teased with tiny flicks from his fingertips. i literally was reliant on my sense of smell and touch to tell what was going on around me.
I felt the belt of my jeans being slowly removed from the waist. The longer I was tied to the cross, the more vulnerable I was feeling. Even though it can't have been more than a minute, it felt like a lot longer. I felt a hand rubbing my cock which was getting stiffer than I thought was possible.
I then smelt him get nearer to me, to my right hand side. He started nibbling at my ear lobe, occasionally using his teeth to give a short sharp burst of pain. His lips then moved right next to my ear.
"Tell me about your experience with a dominant guys?" he said.
"I've never been with a dominant guy." I responded.
"Then I am going to enjoy breaking you. What have you tried?"
"Just vanilla sex, nothing kinky."
"But I bet you've jerked your big cock watching lots of kinky porn."
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
I failed to grasp what he was asking for me. So the room stayed silent. But not for long. He pinched my nipples aggressively, making it clear to me who was in charge of this situation.
"Yes, what?" he asked again, with an extra semi tone's worth of anger in his voice.
"Yes sir," I replied meekly. Not really certain of myself.
The blindfold was removed and after a little disorientation, I saw that Scott was still fully clothed. I thought he might have removed some clothing if I was to be used as a sex slave.
He then forcefully pulled my trousers and boxers down so they were around my ankles. My hard on sprung up, harder than it had ever been before. If there was one organ doing the thinking, it was definitely my cock.
Scott then got a tape measure and took a reading from the bottom of my shaft.
"Nine-and-a-half inches," he said. Matter of factly. "Bet a lot of guys like playing with this," Scott added, grabbing my swelling meat.
"They do sir."
"A shame that neither of us have any use for it." It was then that I saw him rub a cream all over my hands and then all over my throbbing member. It was more or less smeared into my flesh when I finally plucked up the courage to ask what it was.
"What is that sir?"
"It's a cream boy, one that once in the skin can removes an erection almost instantaneously. It lasts long enough."
"Long enough for what sir?"
I didn't get an answer. But then maybe this was one of those occasions where actions spoke louder than words. He went over to a draw on the other side of the room and took out a small square white cardboard box. While he was searching, he asked me questions.
"Tell me boy, do you look at pornography?"
"Yes sir."
"Fetish and kink videos?"
"Sometimes sir?"
"And do you clean your internet history on a regular basis?"
"No sir."
"Good," he responded. Having found what he was looking for, he walked back over to me. Scott looked down at my cock, I matched his efforts in looking down and what was once a throbbing erection was completely flaccid.
He looked back up at me and had a wicked grin on his face.
"If you are going to be a sex slave to us, there is one thing that we will insist upon. This is the test to whether you can truly be our sex slave. We will not see each other for seven days and in the mean time, you must be prepared to admit that you are under ownership. And the easiest way to do that, is this."
He pulled a metal object out of the cardboard box. It was made up of several parts. I wasn't sure what it was and in a way, I didn't want to know. Like the most gruesome bit of a horror movie, I simply looked away while I felt some tugging and adjusting of my penis and scrotum. I was starting to worry and decided to have a look down. I felt the coldness of a ring being put around my balls coming up to my pubic area. Scott then put another piece of metal which went through two holes in the base ring. Another piece of metal, a small tube went through the second piece and then another piece secured the whole lot together.
"Do you know what this is boy?" Scott asked.
"No sir"
I looked down and another piece of metal was going around the tube. Meanwhile my dick was still as soft as anything and showing no sign of getting hard despite being constantly touched.
Meanwhile a further piece of metal, about the size to fully enclose my penis was then added to the frame that had already been put around my cock. He then took a small plastic tag and rigged through the devices securing everything together. There was no way I was getting out of this device. Scott then took a picture of the device, or more specifically the lock.
"This is a chastity device. It will prevent you from masturbating, getting hard, ejaculating and will keep you as horny as hell. You will be desperate to cum. But know this slave boy, if you go for option 2, this device will be on you for 24 hours a day, seven days a week. We will ensure you are happy though and you will have plenty of freedom. And more sex than you can dream of, and some of your wildest fantasies fulfilled. Only you can make this choice and in order to know what it is like, you will have to live with this for a week. The lock has a number on it, and that ensures you won't cheat your way out of this scenario. I will demand pictures of your locked cock at the most random times."
He moved over and unlocked the straps on the cross. The chastity device stayed on. For now, I came to the realisation that I was a trial slave and had seven more days to wait until I got my next orgasm. I hanged my head down as I was beckoned out of the door without my shirt on a freezing cold night. Scared at what I had just agreed to but excited enough to see what would happen next.