Disclaimer: If you are not yet 18 years of age or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, then please stop now. If you are offended by sexually explicit material or situations, discontinue reading immediately, and go somewhere else. This happened to me. Thanks for reading. Please do not reprint without my approval. Copyright me please.
I was never into leather or latex, bondage or masters. I was just a normal gay guy, switching on the gay sex part. More gothic than anything, wearing clumpy doc martens, black clothes, and floppy longish hair.
Thus said, I was forced into the lifestyle one Friday night by my own fuckin stupidness. They say curiousity kills the cats, but it can also enslave the slaves. Here's how i got my first master.
For comments, email me at gothguy25@yahoo.com.
Part Five
Waking up, in my new leather skin, I had to get used to it, and my daily rituals. I didn't think of them as my life, nor even chores or lessons. No matter what was done to me, or I had to do, It seemed like I was learning a ritual to remember. Things stayed the same, for the first week, although the nipple clamps stopped and the long gag was brought back from time to time for me to remember it. I always panicked when it went in, scared I guess of choking and not being able to get it back out. But once I put my mind far away from where I was, I could handle most things that went on. And he was right, the music did help, for no matter how panicked I was, I focused on a song, and soon I was away, and okay. I think the times I panicked the most was when I had my ankles and knees bound, and a straight jacket put on, and the hood on also with gag. While the gag had an air hole in the middle, and my hood had holes at my nostrals, the ability to move was gone, and I just freaked for a bit until I was able to learn to put my mind away from the place, and drift along with the music... or into a dream as I just fell asleep calmly.
It was great learning how to do this, for as time when on, he wanted to put me in weirder and harder positions to be bound up in, and seemed to be always pleased by my ability to adapt, and accept. I guess I should have fought more, or begun planning an escape, but I had no idea how to, and being so bound up, leathered, and helpless, I could not even think of a possibility.
As time went on, I knew I was beginning to accept it, and that bothered me, and excited me, at the same time. I was hard for most of it, and begun to be turned on by the smell/feel/and look of leather, and even the sound of it as it crinkled when he fucked me. And being moved around by his powerful hands, controlled 100%, used and abused, drinking his pee and cum, unable to talk unless he let me, definitely unable to touch myself (periods of chasity devices were still being put on and off), I grew complacient, and then excited and happy by it all.
Why? I still don't understand why I did. Does that mean I was always a sub, but didn't know it? Did I just need a real Dom to grab me, and make me accept my real life? Or, am I just having these feelings because I am caught in this situation, and can't step away to rethink anything, but I have to live in it, daily, 24/7.
In the second week, one day, th tall man told me to start thinking of him as my owner and my master. I know I will tell him I will, but in my mind, no way.
That night, he came down, and said, he was having a party in a few hours, and wanted to show me off. My mind started thinking of me bowing alot, or kneeling beside him, or even serving drinks. But, dressed like I was. I blushed furiously.
He unchained me from the wall. snapped the blindfold on my hood, and walked me across the room and up the stairs. Since this was the first time I had ever been up there, I was curious. But, since I was fully hooded, I would be disappointed.
He walked me to the center of the room, and took my mitts off. I uncurled my fingers. He slid a Leather jacket's sleeve on me and I realized it was his leather straight jacket again. He put it on, and buckled my hands and arms securely against my upper body. I felt him then anchor my boots to the floor spread apart with chains to my manakles. I heard something being wheeled forward, and stop in front of me. That's when he tipped me forward and slowly lowered me onto something flat, yet giving. My mind clicked and I realized it must be a leather sling, but a low one. He pushed me forward until my cock and balls popped through a hole in it, and dropped down. He reattached the weights on my balls below me, surprising me that they had been off at all. My head now drooped some from the front of the sling, but I wasn't thinking on that. He was taking off my chasity device, and slipping some kind of rubber tube over and up on my dick, making me hard. I moaned into my gag.
"Oh, don't be distressed. It's just the milking machine."
{BLINKS} The milking machine???
I felt my buttplug being taken out now, and a long dildo put in.
I moan again.
"That's just the fucking machine. Relax."
The fucking machine???
I heard him move around to the front of me now.
"Not one sound from you while I switch gags. Nod if you understand." I nodded. He took my ballgag out, and put in a dildo one. Something else was attached to my hood.
"Releax now. That's just the other fucking machine for your mouth. I have to show you off properly."
I just groaned now, out of resignation, hoping he didn't notice the difference. I hung there for awhile, speared in both ends, getting used to them in me. I heard a doorbell ring, and he went and answered it. Soon I heard his, and another voice, enter my room.
They stopped walking. The voice said, "You weren't kidding. You really DO have one. May I?"
"Certainly. I need your help to sync up the two machines before the others arrive."
I groaned again, right before I felt handsall over my body, feeling my balls, the cock with the tube over it, and even sliding his fingers around on both sides of the dildo in my ass.
"Very nice. You going to share with your friends?"
"Someday." I silently groaned on that one.. and hung my head, as far as the rigid dildo in my mouth could let me, totally humiliated, embarrassed, and trapped.
"Okay, help me sync these up. I don't want them fucking him at the same time, but pushing him towards each other in a back and forth motion."
"Right."
I heard a switch come on, and I swayed back, being fucked down my throat. Another switch, and I was pushed forward, able to get air as the mouth one retreated almost out of me. Soon the rythmn seemed to be what he wanted, and I swung back and forth, guided by the machines. I heard a third machine being turned on... and soon, my world existed on just being fucked, and milked.
I didn't hear how many people came in, how count how many times I was felt up, or listen to any conversations. I just focused on breathing when I could, and slowly being made to cum for their show.
My mind turned to butter, and the evening blurred. I don't remember much after that point but fucking, breathing, cumming, breathing, fucking, fucking, breathing, cumming, breathing....
And moaning all the time without thinking, into the dildo.
I came out of the glaze, and I was still hanging in the sling. The leather straight jacket still on, legs chained wide. But the fuck machines had been taken away, and my buttplug was back in me. Also, I could feel my chasity device was back on.
Curiously, my hood was off, and my gag out. I seemed to have just a piece of duct tape over my mouth only. I wasn't blindfolded either. I lifted my head.
"Ah, you are awake. Did you enjoy last night?"
My throat and ass and cock hurt, but I nodded my head yes anyways.
"You know what you did wrong last night?"
My head froze in its nodding, and I opened my eyes a little to look at him now. I slowly shook my head no.
"I will have other parties. and I will display you at all, in some fashion. I own you, and being my property, you will be seen like a new car. Understand?"
I nodded slightly.
"But I can NOT have a party where a slave is moaning all the way through it. It is hard to listen to my music and friends talk. They are more inportant, at a party I throw. You messed up last night. The night was not about you. but about me showing you off."
I just stared at him now, a small tear slowly trickling down my face.
"Do not worry, I will allow you to regrow your head hair. How you act in the future, depends on if I allow it to STAY growing."
He flicked on an electric razor, held my head in his large hand, and slowly started to move the razor in straight swipes. I close my eyes crying, amid huge piles of my hair just fallin off and down. Soon, he turned off the electric razor, and lathered up my head, and I felt the straight razor scraping across my scalp. I cried hard, without letting my head move. I don't know how to get fucked without moaning, but I knew I had to try. When I get my hair back, I was going to keep it.
When he finished, he dried my tears, and put the hood back on. It felt so weird, on my shaven bald head. With the blindfold still on, he lifted up and took the duct tape off, and then secured the hood down, and put the gag in, buckling and locking it in place. Then he unchained me from the floor, and lifted me up, and I was led back downstairs and hooked to the wall.
He patted my hood. "Very good, 1031... very good." I heard him walk away and up the stairs.
I just curled up and slipped off to sleep, the first time in my life since I was 15, I didn't have long hair....
end of part 5.