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 Seven
I woke, wondering what day it was. All the days had blended together by now, and I had lost keeping track of the days. I think that bothered me the most. Not knowing even if it was a Wednesday or a Saturday, and my life narrowed down to the smell of the leather, pain, being told what to do, just serving, not thinking and mindlessly obeying.... I guess I started to lose sight of my own self.
I remember I had started with just plain anger, after the stunned realization of what had happened to me.. or.. what was still happening to me. But, as days passed, and the freakin pain of the loss of my life, and with the plans of escape never reaching anything but plans in my mind, I started to get scared. Very scared, that I would not be able to get away. No matter what I thought, planned, created, or tried, nothing worked. I gave up on the pulling out the screws, the working on the chains, the wearing down the leather. I don't know if he watched me when he was not giving me orders, or replaced anything after awhile, but not one thing ever seemed to change. No wear ever showed up on the walls, leather or chains. The sameness beat and wore me down. I did not want to give up. I did not wish to stop trying. I think.. I started to forget to try.
I listened to the music he played. It did keep my mind from turning to mush completely, but I was stubburnly trying to keep my mind active otheriwse, so I went through all the tv shows I had ever seen. One at a time. Then movies. By closing my eyes, I found I could see the movie completely, smell the popcorn, hear the people around me, and watch the movie. Sometimes completely. I suddenly was glad I was a TV and Movie buff, and realized, I had a chance. I had a way to never be broken somehow. I had a place, I could escape to. I could close my eyes, and be seeing a movie I loved. I smiled, but then suddenly teared up, in a stupid self obsessed crying jag, wondering if I would ever see a "new" movie again.
After awhile, he chained my ankles together during the day with a short chain so I could shuffle around the entire vast basement. I not only had my area, with the sleeping pillow, and my cage and wall chains, plus the food and water bowls, and the waste buckets in the corner, but I had the opportunity to shuffle about looking at everything. My hood was on, but now the gag was out so I could use my tongue to lick up the water for me from the bowl, and the food. The blindfold was off also. I was still shaved daily, including my head (which will keep happening for the year because of my mistake), and after being bathed, I was put back into my leathers. Tight chaps with no pants on under, so I could do my wastes without hinderance, and my boots, with kneepads on. A leather t shirt and elbow pads, with puppy mitts. At night I sleep without the mitts on, and I sleep in leather shorts with no crotch and ass. But, I was told it was all about presentation and looks, but I didn't understand. Later, during colder months, I would be given a leather motorcycle jacket also. (Or for parties for show.)
The door to upstairs was bolted unless he was home, and my wrists chained to my waist belt, and to each other. It was best if I traveled around on my hands and knees, but I could wabble around on my feet if I tried. Everything on the walls had be put behind giant cages that were locked, but since I had mitts on, I couldn't grip them anyways. My only chance was my teeth, but the item had to have enough of a reach to jut out from the wall to reach into my leather hood far enough for me to grab with my teeth since my gag wasn't there. But then, I wouldn't be able to pull it off, let alone weild it, use it, hide or keep it. Trust me, I have thought through and tried almost everything in the whole basement.
I was listening to the music and fell alseep into a fitful nap, dreaming of just walking free in New York City, shopping.
I woke up to tapping. The music had stopped. A loud tapping was echoing through the basement. It had jarred me up and awake. He had done this once before. He had tapped on a microphone.. to wake me up. Told me, when he did this, I was to find him, where he had his portible mic and see what he wanted. He wasn't going to waste his voice on his pet. That made me realize, I was being called.
I stumbled into a crawl, and looked around, cocking my head. I didn't see him in the basement at all, which meant... he was tapping me for upstairs? I crawled over and looked up. Sure enough, the door stood wide open. I slowly made my way up the hard to manuever stairs and then started to look around for him in the house.
I found him in the living room, in his big easy chair. He was tapping on the mic, on the arm of the chair. I crawled up to him, and cocked my head to the side looking up.
"Ah, good boy. You learned your new trick. Come when called." He unzipped his pants, and pulls his cock out.
"I need to piss. Drink it here. From now on, you will be called wherever I am to do this. That means, not one fuckin drop on my pants or sofa. Do you know how much they are worth? Far more than your worthless piece of shit ass. So slide the cock down far before I start and close your mouth around the top tight, and suck fast. If you fuck up, we may have to go to the next level, or keep your hair shaved for 2 years."
I just held back my whimper, blinked, moved into his crotch, opened my mouth and throat, and let him slide himself in and down. In fear, I let it go way down, and suction it up around the bottom, feeling his balls on my chin and his pubes in my nose. Fighting back the fear and the natural choking that passed already, he let loose, and I started to swallow as fast as I could, drinking his piss straight down into my stomach. I knew some men could pee for a long time, but I swear he must have held back for months, for his piss just kept coming and coming, filling my belly like water filling a balloon. The fear of next level, and the hope of getting my hair back kept me sucking and drinking... even after he had finally stopped. He patted my head.
"Slowly now, I am finishing. Get the last few drops. I am pleased."
I slowed, and realized, he was done, and I had accomplished what I had wanted to do. I started to take my head back, but he held it firmly in place.
"Suck it now, 1031. Make me hard. Suck me off. I like being in you."
I started to suck, and panic. For I was realizing, his cock was down mmy throat firmly, and the ability to breathe was in his control 100%. As I sucked, and his cock grew, I started to have problems breathing. It filled my throat like I was it's own personal glove. He liked the feeling, for he said Good Boy... but I was unable to breathe. I started to move my head slightly back and forth, hoping to get the feeling of him fucking my throat going, so snatches of air I could steal in between the jams of the cock back into throat through my nose holes in my hood. Maybe that would get him excited, and help keep me alive. It did the trick, and slowly, very slowly, he allowed me to rock back and forth, catching those bits and pieces of air through my nose holes when I could. When he came, he gripped my hood like a vise, and the cock was back down the throat again, jammed far far down, with me sucking as best I could, and his cum gushing and squirting out. I swallowed until I didn't think I could anymore, and finally he slowly pulled it out till the tip was just in my mouth.
"Suck the tip softly.. make sure nothing is left."
I did, breathing like crazy through my nose holes, knowing he could hear me, but, desperate for air, I couldn't stop the noises I made. But, I still sucked liked I was asked to, kind of proud of that fact, in a weird way. He finally popped the cock out, looked at it for a few seconds to see if any drops fell. I watched too. Nothing fell. He slid it back into his pants, and zipped up. He looked around the chair and his clothes.
"Okay. Listen for the tapping. You did this perfect. This is part of your world now, forever. Go back downstairs where you belong."
I crawled down the stairs, with my heart beating fast, listening to the music being turned back on. As I laid back onto my bed, my heart was still beating, my mouth and throat hurt, and I cried. But, I was rock hard.
Fuck.
end of part 7.