It all began a while ago. Quite a while ago really. But this part began in the morning. Roust-out at 5am as usual but from there on in it all became strange. Instead of being hurried down the corridor to the wash block with the other boys I was stopped at the door of the barrack room by on of the warders who simply reached into the crush to grab me by the arm and pull me to one side as the others hurried out.
Two of the warders followed the boys down the hall while one locked the barracks door then turned to take my other arm. Holding me one to each side the pair quick marched me in the other direction, around a corner and though doors and gates to processing.
On the way in processing had been a drawn out affair of strip searches, cursory medical examinations and procedures, shavings and hosing downs. Outward - and I knew it must be outward for there was no other reason to be there - it seemed my part had been simplified while the bureaucracy had become complex. Me, they just shoved into a travel cage. A two foot cube, sheet steel below, bars around and above it forced me to kneel and hunch down. The paperwork however got examined, shuffled, moved about and written on for more than an hour until part was surrendered to a pneumatic tube to be delivered wherever that might lead and what remained was sealed into a large manilla envelope with legal ribbons and wax then taped to the top of the cage I was in.
Throughout, in fact from the roust-out bell, not a word had been spoken to me and by then I already knew better than to speak out myself without invitation.
The cage went on a dolly and the dolly was rolled through more gates and doors, taken up in lifts and along more halls. I don't know if it was deliberate but they always pushed it along with me in the cage facing backwards so I could only see where we had been, not where we were going. Eventually, after two check points, the dolly, my cage and so I were all rolled together out onto an enclosed loading bay. My cage was lifted off the dolly and pushed along a few feet of concrete, off the edge and into the back of a van. The six inch drop between the bay edge and the floor bed of the van seemed not to concern them but I was going to have bruises. One of them climbed in to dog the cage to the floor then got out again. The vehicle inched forward sufficient for the doors to be slammed and I was left in complete darkness.
Noises and movement however were left and could guess their meanings. Large steel gates opening, a ramp spiralling up, more gates and a pause for a security check. The van wasn't opened nor did any light come on so maybe the interior was monitored with an infra-red camera. Certainly nothing got out of there without being thoroughly inspected. Another ramp up, this one strait, and a last set of gates and the open surface. From there flat and apparently fast with few turns.
I must have been taken quite a distance. By the time I saw outside it was afternoon so at least six hours on the road. When the van came to a halt I heard doors slam but no one came for me. After a while the rear doors were opened and a warder reached in to rip the package of papers off the top of my cage and I was left again. Now however the doors were open and I could at least see out. Although there was little enough to see. A garage door in a long stucco wall. Wood and whitewash. Gravel between me and the door and nothing else in view.
It was well into mid-afternoon before the warders appeared again. This time they opened the cage and dragged me out. Hours crouched in the cage had been no kindness to my legs and they showed their displeasure by buckling and dumping me on the gravel. I instinctively curled up expecting a kicking but the warders just grabbed me, one to each arm, and hauled me up again. The walked me round the van where I saw more wall and windows and a door through which they took me. Along a corridor and through a hall then another door into a large room furnished as a study.
There was a desk and behind the desk a man. One of the warders stepped forward and they exchanged a few words, each signed several papers then the warder turned to the door and his companion let go of my arm and followed him out.
The man seemed to ignore me for a few minutes looking through the papers. At last he pushed most to one side and sat back holding a single sheaf, legal green bound with red ribbon. He read it through slowly then looked up at me. He began to go through the document a clause at a time reading the odd phrase of legalese but mostly paraphrasing the contents in simplified form as if he were explaining it to me. I suppose he was. I'd never seen such a document before but he needn't have troubled. I knew the significant parts and I knew what it was, my articles of indenture. The court, he told me, had determined that society needed protecting from me. It had also decided that with some training I might not turn entirely to the bad and further that the state wasn't going to waste money by trying it. So I had been sentenced to indentured servitude. Since it was a judicial contract I wouldn't be asked to pay an apprentice fee. I almost smiled at that. Nor, he said, did he want or need an apprentice. Rather he had paid a fee to the court to train and use me as a house servant. He pointed out that the length of the indenture was indeterminate and that I would only be released if he applied to the court for permission to do so. Moreover the contract could be transferred. He could, if he wished, sell my contract on and recoup his fee, perhaps even make a profit. He looked at me significantly and was apparently satisfied that I got the implication: this could be a life sentence and the only way of avoiding that would be to ingratiate myself with my master.
After a moment he went on through the rest. I was entirely under his authority and as long as he could present me alive to the court on demand he could do anything he wished with me. I was restricted to his property and were I to cross the boundary except in his company I'd be picked up, get an automatic judicial whipping and be returned to him. This I knew was likely since they marked all the boys with implanted microchips and demonstrated the tracking machines when we were admitted to the post-sentencing detention facility.
Finally the one 'right' allowed me by the terms of the indenture was to decline to serve my time with him. I knew full well that doing so would only result in my being delivered to another potential master and if I declined again the third time I wouldn't have a choice. And a good chance that the third would be an industrial plant as a serf-worker. What little I'd seen of this house looked good, the man was well dressed and well mannered and he wanted a servant. I couldn't imagine that it could be too bad and could all too easily imagine far worse so when he asked if I accepted I just nodded.
He leaned forward, placed the document on the desk and swivelled it about. Uncapping a pen he told me to come forward and sign. I did so. Signature at the foot of each page and on the last the date as well, written in words rather than numerically. I wasn't surprised to see the two witness signatures already filled. Doubtless done by the warders who for an hour to themselves would be quite prepared to tell a court they'd seen me sign in the unlikely event the matter was ever questioned.
He opened an ink pad and told me to make a right thumb print in the box provided what I did. The he lit a sealing stick, dribbled the bright red wax onto the paper and when enough had pooled there in the space allotted for his signature impressed it with his signet ring.
That told me quite a lot. For one thing if he could be sure that his seal would not only be recognised but also be accepted in lieu of a signature then he was either a member of the Hundred Houses or wealthy enough in his own right to be considered their near equal. For another if that were the case then the courts would do his bidding not the other way around. It seemed I'd chosen well in not refusing him although the choice was probably even more hollow than it had seemed at the time. It came to me also that with a master of such power even the theoretical avenues of appeal would be effectively closed. I'd signed myself into his service and not a single authority on the planet would ever question it.
He told me to step back, to stand in the middle of the room where the warders had left me. As I did so he rose and taking my articles of indenture opened an impressively large safe at the side of the room and locked them within. His legal and water-tight proof that he in all but name owned me.
Resuming his seat he told me to strip. That took seconds as all I was wearing was the collarless, sleeveless grey nylon shirt and grey nylon shorts, both too small for me, that were the inmate's uniform in the detention facility. I stood with them bunched in my hand unsure what to do. Well used as I was to being naked and inspected in the facility I was surprised to feel humiliated. He told me to put them on the desk and then resume my position which I did. He got up and slowly walked once around me in silence
Returning to the desk he moved the chair to the side before sitting again. He called me to him and told me to kneel. I hadn't thought I could feel worse than I already did but that did it. He was going for the whole formal ritual which I'd not heard of being used outside of historical novels. Following his quietly give, precise instructions I found myself kneeling right in front of him, head bowed, hands raised together as if in prayer. He reached to the side and his hand came back with a piece of card which he balanced on his knee just within my sight. Placing his hands around mine, read it, he told me. Aloud. So I did, slowly.
Speaking the words I wondered if there were some genuine precedent or if he'd crafted them himself. If it were legal; not that it mattered one whit. The form was that of the apprentice's oath, quite usual for a boy signing indentures - although normally they'd have been spoken standing in some guild hall, dressed in festival best and with a feast in prospect rather than naked and kneeling like this. The terms however were like those of the serf's oath. I swore that I surrendered my person to my master, I swore complete obedience, I swore to work with all effort, I swore to accept discipline. Perhaps he knew that neither deity, honour nor law would make me keep such oaths by my own will but the ritual seemed to satisfy him of itself.
When I'd finished he released my hands and withdrew the card from my sight. I moved to get up but before I could he slapped me open handed on the cheek. It wasn't hard but shocking. He barked at me to stay where I was, the first time I'd heard him raise his voice. Suddenly I wasn't just resigned to being here: I was afraid. He opened a draw in the desk beside him and withdrew something. Bringing it in front of my eyes I saw that it was a collar. He held it there for a moment for me to recognize it and absorb the fact then pulling my head forward whipped the leather around my neck and buckled t tight. He reached again and this time showed me a short chain and padlock nestling in the palm of his hand. Again he pulled me forward and the chain went round my neck and the padlock clicked shut. He adjusted the fall of the chain using it as he did so draw me back into the strait backed kneeling position I'd take up before. The padlock fell cold and hard just resting in the hollow at the base of my throat.
He took my chin in one hand and lifted my head so that I was looking right at him. He smiled very slightly as he looked at me then told me that the dog collar was only a momentary convenience but that the chain would remain as long as I was in his service.
He moved his grip to the back of my head and slowly pressed down. I tried to settle into the posture I'd had before but the pressure continued, slow but firm until my forehead rested on the carpet. Full out on your belly I was told and with his hand still holding my head I wriggled myself flat. His hand withdrew and he used a foot to coax me into turning my head then the foot came down and rested on my cheek, pressing on me so I could feel the pile of the carpet hard against the other side of my face. He rested there for a moment and told me to remember this, that I was now his property. I'd been caught and imprisoned, judged and sentenced but I would remember this as the moment in which I truly realised what it all meant. His foot moved off of me after another lengthy moment and a final push only to come to the carpet directly in front of my nose while I felt his other rest at the back of my head. More rustling then my wrists were cuffed behind my back. Then he reached down a last time and fiddled with the leather collar. He stood and a pressure on the collar brought me up, right up until I was standing. He let his arm drop and moved the collar round so that I saw that I was leashed with a chain the other end of which ended at a wrist strap on his arm. His free hand reached for a last time into the draw and came back into sight holding a riding crop.
He lifted the crop and ran it's end across my chest, tapping a few times at my tits. You will, he told me, address me as "master". You will acknowledge every order by saying "Yes Master". You will not otherwise speak except to answer a direct question and if your answer is anything except yes Master you;d better be sure it's the right answer. If you see a need to speak in other circumstances you will say please Master and wait. If permission is not indicated you remain silent. The I made the stupidest mistake in the book. Asked if I understood I just said yes and immediately the crop moved three times and came down stingingly on my belly and each thigh. The question repeated this time I got it right and said yes Master. He picked up the grey institution uniform form the desk and stuffed it into my bound hands then without a word he walked towards the door and after an instant's tugging while I worked out what he was doing the leash pulled me after him. Out of the door and through the hall that way I'd come in. Down the corridor he opened and entered a door. Kitchen he said, somewhat redundantly as that was very obviously what it was and a well appointed one too. Pointing with the crop to doors on the right he named them, dry store and cold store. Then he lead me to the left into a windowless room. Scullery. Through another door to a room that he didn't bother naming which contained two large low sinks and shelves full of cleaning materials and another door - this one steel with lock on the outside - to a larger equally windowless room.
This space was square, eight meters to a side and the ceiling four high, well out of reach, bright with fluorescent tubes. He carefully showed me the details. At the far side a narrow iron bed pointed into the room it's head standing half a meter away from the wall it was bolted to the floor. Chains hung from rings welded at head, foot and three places on each side. On iron slats a rubber covered foam mattress not three centimetres thick. Folded at the foot a grey blanket and two nylon sheets.
Against the wall to the left of the bed a rail hanging from which hung clothes he pointed at and enumerated. Seven plain white nylon shirts, two dress pattern. Seven pale blue. Three pairs of black trousers, two matching jackets. One waist-coat. A boiler suit and three nylon house jackets. A set of nylon pyjamas. On the shelf below the hanging items carefully stacked were nylon shorts, seven pairs white three black three blue. White vests and T-shirts. Two dozen pairs of over the calf stockings. Black ties of both the strait and bow variety and several sets of braces. Last, and at this I think I blanched, a pile of terry cloth napkins and three pairs of plastic pants to go with them. Yes, he confirmed, I'd be wearing these as part of my uniform so that my service to him wouldn't ever be delayed by toilet breaks.
To the right of the bed two steel cabinets. He unlocked and opened the first and showed me that it was full of more nylon clothes. These he said I might wear if I were allowed outside and if he permitted. Meantime they would remain locked away. Reaching round to take the uniform shirt and shorts from my hands he threw them into the cabinet, closed and locked it then opened the second to display shelves full of chains, shackles and other more complex equipment of restraint. He withdrew two sets of shackles and quickly replaced the leather on my wrists with steel and snapped the others around my ankles. Putting the leather cuffs away in a compartment he closed and locked this cabinet and turned me to look at the rest of the room.
In the corner to the right of the door was fixed a cage. Real bars rather than the mesh of the travelling cages I'd been put in before. A little less than a meter high and wide I was shown how the end element could be slotted in to make the space anything from under a meter to well over two in length.
The walls were rendered in smooth cement, unpainted. On each side three rows of staples held rings, one above two meters up, the second about waist height and the last just above the floor. That was a concrete screed and sloped towards the corner to the left of the door where two taps, a fixed shower head and a hose were fixed in the wall. This he explained was where I'd clean myself. One tap for the hose the other for the shower. Both delivered just warm water and the temperature could not be adjusted. A small shelf held shower heads and enema attachments for the hose and from the ceiling above hung a pair of chains.
That was every detail and finished with his explanations he turned me around and from behind slipped a Lycra hood that I had not know he had over my head. Unable to see he moved me, released the chain between my manacles and attached more that drew my arms above my head. More chains rattled and the leg irons were drawn apart until the chain between them was tight. I heard water running and that was some warning of what was coming but I still gasped when a stream of it hit me. A hard slap on my arse and the command to be silent. He must have gone through the door briefly to the cleaning room for supplies because after a moment I heard the hiss of an aerosol and cold foam was slapped on my arm. Methodically and in silence except for the small noises of aerosol, razor and the occasional splash of water he shaved off every hair I'd possessed below my collar. You will, he said conversationally, keep yourself shaved. To do so you may use the tool washing sinks next door, after all you are one of my tools. You'll find a mirror there too.
Finished and rinsed off the water sounds stopped and I heard him walk over and open one of the cabinets. The hood was lifted to my nose and a tongue gag forced into my mouth. He detached me from the restraining chains and moved me once more, this time up against a wall where again I was chained immobile in place.
Unlike the water no recognisable sound gave me warning of the whip that struck my back. After half a dozen strokes he paused and said that I'd be more obedient and work harder if I knew what the alternative was. It's an education he said and then took up again with the whip. I thought that I could stand anything he did but it didn't take long to disabuse me of that idea. It didn't take long to break me to sobs but he didn't stop for a while even after that.
While I was still crying he moved me so I was restrained with my back to the wall. I was afraid that he'd whip my front but instead he fitted something around my cock and balls then he let me lose from the wall, pushed me to the floor and adjusted the chains on my shackles to very short lengths and connected them together. Another pause and then I felt something cold being applied to my arse, a cream worked into my hole swiftly followed by something hard that was pushed up and forced into me until my sphincter clenched around it. He removed the gag and restored the hood to cover the whole of my head. Then the leash tugged and a slap of the riding crop on my arse to make me crawl. Shuffling along as fast as the short chains permitted I was soon in the cage and I heard the door clang shut. He left without another word.
I don't know how long he left me but by the time he returned I'd recovered from the immediate pain of the beating if not the shock, got over the little anger and begun to settle in my mind the reality that not only could he do this, he had. He drew me out of the cage with tugs on my chains and released me from the manacles and leg irons and my the collar leash drew me up to my feet. Now, he said, you are going to behave aren't you. The inflection was more of a statement than a question but still I replied yes Master and that seemed to satisfy him for he removed the leather dog collar and pulled off the hood.
Collar and hood he dropped on the floor and then instructed me to pick them up and come. At the equipment cabinet he unlocked the door and had me stow them properly, the collar laid flat in a cubby with others and the hood turned right way out and put in a draw.
He re-locked the cabinet and turned away. Under precise orders he had me make up the scant bedding and told me that failing to do so any morning would result in me sleeping for a week without even that much. The he turned then to the clothes rail and explained that the blue shirts were for working in, the white for serving him personally. The dress shirts were for waiting at table lunches and dinners which were formal in this house, the waistcoat for breakfast and other less formal occasions. The uses of the other items would be obvious. Next, using the crop to indicate it, he explained that the device that he'd fitted around my cock and balls would prevent erections and that it would only be removed at his choice. The plug in my arse would come out at a specified time each day to permit defecation and otherwise only if he or one of his guests wished to fuck me. That didn't bother me unduly, after all I was gay but usually I'd been active: I didn't look forward to the prospect of being penetrated.
The he instructed me in dressing. First fold a nappy around myself and hold it in place with a pair of plastic pants. Over these a pair of white nylon shorts, the black were to be used only for heavy outdoor labour. Then a pair of stockings, a vest and a shirt - white for the moment. Trousers with braces to keep them up. Tie knotted tight up to the collar and as I adjusted it I couldn't help but feel the padlock on the collar chain under it. Last the jacket. No shoes as footwear was prohibited in the house and any that might be required later was locked in the clothes cabinet.
He told me that I might change my nappy on rising, immediately before serving a meal or on retiring but only if I had soiled it. He ordered me to follow him through to the service room next door and let me examine the great sinks. I was told that after serving the Master his breakfast and before commencing the rest of my duties I would be permitted to relieve myself and showed me a previously unnoticed door beyond the sinks which lead to a water closet half a meter square, a porcelain squatting hole set in the floor and a flush cord reaching up to a tank above. At that time each morning I was to shower in my 'room', clean my arse with the enema hose and dress for the day. The first task was to wash nappies used the previous day in the sinks; once a week a slightly longer time would be allotted to allow for the laundering of used clothes and sheets which, like the nappies, were to be hung to dry on a rack that lowered from the ceiling. Being nylon they'd dry rapidly and the sheets were to be returned to the bed and the clothes to the rail before dinner.
The next regular task was cleaning the house for which the necessary equipment and materials were all stored in this room. Then I'd prepare lunch. Walking through to the scullery he pointed out dishwashers but said they were only to be used when eight or more dined, glass and silver was always to be polished by hand and pots scoured regardless of numbers. In the kitchen he pointed out the appropriate cupboards and utensils for me to make him coffee during which process he explained the bell board. It would indicate which room had rung and I would immediately present myself wherever that might be for orders. There were a intimidatingly large number of little flags which along with the brass bell hanging above looked decidedly antiquated. Then he showed me a more modern addition, a watch-like device that I could wear on my wrist if out of range of the bell. It would vibrate and display a number on its face when the bell was rung and I would have to learn the association between numbers and rooms. When I'd presented myself if the orders required that I return for some personal service as now with the coffee I was to change into a white shirt before doing so.
When I'd arranged coffee pot and the attendant paraphernalia on a salver the Master bad me follow him out into the corridor. He showed what lay behind the door on the other side from the kitchen complex. One lead to stairs going down to the cellars. Then a laundry with various machines to care for the Master's needs and those of the rest of the household, myself excepted of course. The next a workshop which was locked. The fourth to an expansive garage containing a number of vehicles and the last to a tiny office furnished only with a file cabinet and a small, high desk where I would prepare the household accounts, standing it seemed.
Back down the corridor past the kitchen and out into the hall. He returned to the study and started instructing me in the way he wished to be served. I was to carry the tray in, pause at the door heels together and bow. The advance to the desk and put the tray down, pour coffee and place the cup on the desk by the Master's right hand then step back, feet apart, hands clasped at the small of my back and head bowed to wait for further instructions or to be dismissed.
It was here he explained that he did what work he had to and usually in the mornings after breakfast. Rising and taking the cup he again lead me back to the hall and showed me library, music room, large dining hall, a smaller dining room, a sitting room and a snug parlour. Upstairs he said were large and small drawing rooms and two master suites one of which he occupied. Above that guest rooms and topping all the attics. Keep all of this clean would be my responsibility.
He had me collect the tray from the study and deposited his now empty cup on it and returned to the kitchens where he had me leave it in the scullery. Turning back he opened the door to the cellars and descended, me following. The first level was brick vaulted and stone floored and seemed to run the extent of the house. Much was taken up with wine racks, mostly full and cabinets full of other beverages. The next level down was mixed stone and concrete, thick walls obviously supporting the house above divided the space with steel doors between. The first area had the utility feeds, the second was a corridor on one side of which were two holding cells formed of iron bars while on the other two isolation cells built in brick with more steel doors. The last section could only be described as a dungeon - if it wasn't called a torture chamber. He gave me a moment to absorb the many means of restraining a body and the variety of whips hung on the wall. Then he said that the beating I'd received earlier was just mild instruction. When he felt that I needed punishment this was available to him to ensure that I did not quickly forget the required lesson.
Back upstairs I followed the Mater to the small dining room and under instruction laid the table. For one. In the kitchens he showed me that the makings of a simple meal had been prepared. First I laid out smoked salmon and made slices of Melba toast to accompany it. Then assembled a salad and dressing both of which were taken to the sideboard in the dining room. Then potatoes set to sauté and a steak ready to fry. Rushing back to my room under the stinging encouragement of the riding crop I changed into a dress shirt and black bow tie. Not yet having pissed myself I had no need to chance my nappy. Cloth over my arm I served the Master the smoked salmon and returned to cook the steak, quickly donning a house coat to protect my uniform form chance splashes of fat. Meat and vegetables on chafing dishes for the sideboard I cleared the first course away and served the main then dressed the salad and presented as accompaniment. At first I stood as instructed against the wall between door and sideboard, at attention waiting for some signal that I was required. After some time the Master gestured me over and with hand signals indicated that I was to kneel beside his chair. After a while his hand came down holding a piece of potato delicately between thumb and forefinger. The word open was clear enough and he put the morsel into my mouth. A few more times he did this, on each occasion presenting his fingers for me to wipe with my waiter's cloth.
When he was finished he had me stand and clear the table off to the sideboard, then clear the sideboard to the kitchen. He showed me a low cupboard from which to fetch a dog's bowl into which the remaining food was scraped and all the dishes put in the scullery to be attended to in the morning. Not, he said, that I was to think I would always get away with that but on this evening he wanted me for other things.
In the library the Master had me serve him cognac, warming the glass then pouring the liquor without splashing and presenting it on a small salver. As when he had eaten I stood at the side of the room to start with and again he gestured me forward and had me kneel, this time directly in front of him. The next instructions were given in a cool, precise voice and I followed them, undoing his fly drawing out his gentiles and putting my lips around his cock. The instructions continued as he taught me how he liked to be sucked, a cuff round the ear when I didn't immediately please him. I knelt there and worked on his cock while he sat back and sipped his cognac until I could feel the beginning of pulses running through his genitals. He set the glass aside and grabbed my head, forcing me onto his cock, forcing his cock into me as he came shudderingly and hot right down my throat. It was only those last seconds that he'd been deep within me but it was enough to make me gag. When he withdrew I choked down the convulsions of my stomach with tears in my eyes. He let me for a moment then slapped me, harder than he had that afternoon, to bring me back to attention. The Master had me restore his clothing then after a pause he leant forward and started playing with my tits through the material of my shirt and vest. Not satisfied he ordered that I unbutton my shirts and push up my vest. The he put his hands inside my shirt and resumed his fondling rolling my tits between thumb and forefinger, pinching first one then the other then both at once. At that I tried to draw back slightly but he pinched tighter, holding me. Don't ever, he said, flinch away from me. You belong to me and you'll accept whatever I choose to do. For that your tits will be clamped and for choking earlier you've earned a whipping. Tomorrow will be soon enough for that. He withdrew his hands and sat back.
Without ordering me to re-arrange my clothing he lead me back through kitchen and scullery to the service room. Here he had me strip. Stockings, shorts and vest in the wash basket with the blue shirt I'd worn earlier and the grey prison uniform I'd arrived in retrieved from the cabinet where he'd thrown it. Dress shirt, trousers and jacket returned to the rail. My nappy was inspected and as I still hadn't pissed myself it remained on. Over the plastic pants a pair of the blue nylon shorts. Night wear he said. Come winter I might get to use the pyjamas, or I might not. He lead me back to the kitchen where he lifted the dog's bowl full of scraps to the floor. Kneel and eat. Any other time I might have hesitated or even balked but I'd not yet eaten that day and hunger didn't pause for thought about the circumstances so I reached forward for the bowl only to have the crop come down twice, viciously across my shoulders. No hands he snapped, you'll not earn that privilege for some while. As I ate, mouth in the bowl of left-overs he filled another with water and set it down beside me. Drink he said when I'd finished the food and I did, putting my mouth down to the water.
Done he took me back to the rear room and had me get into the bed. He lifted the chains fixed at the corners and snapped cuffs around my wrists and ankles. There was enough play in them that I could move about and try to get comfortable on the thin mattress but I couldn't have got off the bed. Nor could I bring my hands further down than my chest. He twisted my tits again, smiling at my discomfort and then drew his hand down to my crotch where he squeezed. Despite the nylon, plastic and terry cloth intervening it was painful and to my astonishment I found my cock trying to rise only to feel more pain as the plastic device it was locked in prevented nay such thing. At that he laughed a little, withdrew his hand and covered my with the top sheet and blanket. Eventually, he said, you'll see me to bed and, if I don't want you, bring yourself down here I'll know that you'll behave because I can see. And he pointed into the upper corners of the room where small black domes protruded, doubtless cameras. But for the moment, while you settle in I think I'd like to see you safely chained up for the night. If you're good I might make you cum at the end of the week. Goodnight boy. With those last words he turned and left, shutting the door behind him. I waited long enough to wonder if I was expected to sleep in the bright light when the tubes went out plunging the room into utter darkness. So ended my first day in the service of my Master.
Copyright 2005 Matthew Malthouse