My adventures into becoming a bound gay slave in uniform.
Part 1
I was twenty five years old, fit, lean and tanned. I had never really held a job, despite a good college education, and willingness.
Scanning the newspaper online one day I saw the advert:
Wanted, Young Males for six-month intensive work assignment. Continuous work with only limited free time. Active, physical and disciplined candidates only.
Accommodation, uniform, and all meals and expenses included. $100,000 for the whole six months.
For phone interview send resume, and full length and portrait photos. Subsequent in-person interviews may include offer of immediate start.
$100,000 was more than I could reasonably earn in a year, probably even two, and the advert intrigued me. I have to say somehow the word `uniform' was a part of that. I had never really had a long term relationship with a girl, and suspected I was gay or at least bi-sexual. But I did like the idea of uniforms. I decided that there was nothing to lose so I sent off an email.
Obviously they liked my photos and despite my lack of experience (although, for what?) on the phone the mysterious man asked if I would like to come for an interview in person.
Of course I replied, it would be a pleasure.
He suggested that if successful I could start right away and advised me to inform my friends and family that I was going on a six month trip and would not be able to communicate with them during that time, and to settle any rent, bills and personal affairs. There was no need to bring any luggage or personal effects, though, he added. It all sounded intimidating, but promising. The interview was for a week's time, quite a distance, but with easy travel.
I wore a smart shirt and jacket but decided not to wear a tie, it was July and quite warm.
The address was some kind of lodge or gatehouse on the edge of a substantial private estate, I saw a sweeping drive curl away behind some trees as I was allowed in after holding the buzzer for some time, giving my name and being obviously scrutinised via a camera.
I was led into a well-appointed reception room and asked to wait by someone who looked a bit like a butler or servant, smartly dressed and saying little. After a few minutes a very smartly dressed man, about 40, arrived.
Hello, he said, you must be Mike. I said yes and that I was pleased to meet him. My name is Jenson, he said, we shall go downstairs and begin the process? Which sounded a little weird, but I had no real experience in such things. We descended in a lift, I think to a sub-ground floor about two storeys underground. The lift opened and we went into a large room. Bright, but no windows. There was a desk and he invited me to sit. I apologised for not wearing a tie -- as he was, but he said, not to worry as the uniform I would be wearing did not involve a tie anyway. His use of the word uniform caused my cock to stiffen a little in my pants. And everything seemed somehow like a done-deal. After some of the usual questions about my resume he said that they would like to offer me the job. $20,000 now, paid into my account to cover any expenses while I was away, and $80,000 in six month's time on completion.
Was I interested? He hadn't really explained what the job actually involved, but at that moment into the room walked the most good-looking man I have ever seen.
His head was shaved, his face clean-shaven. He was wearing a smart blue uniform-style shirt with epaulettes and breast pockets. He wore no tie, and his collar was fastened either perfectly , or tightly, around his neck. His chest seemed to stick out as though his nipples were pointed beneath the breast pockets, and his shirt seemed somehow sheer and slightly shiny, although from a distance. But it was what he was wearing - or rather not wearing - below that startled me, and caused me to become pretty much erect in my pants. His shirt was tied in at the waist as though by a cord, and he was naked from the waist down. His cock and balls were secured by a steel ring and a rubber or plastic cock cage which stretched his balls below and caused his cock to be semi-erect and stick straight out in front of him, its head glistening and engorged, as mine also now was. He was barefoot, but there were two steel bands around his ankles. They had no obvious method of removal, but appeared to fit perfectly and did not move when he walked.
Interested? Repeated Mr Jenson. Erm, yes, I think so, I replied, barely able to take my eyes of this new person in the room.
Good. Then sign here, and and 15 here will take measurements for your uniform, he said, pushing a few papers in front of me. I signed without even reading anything, hardly able to think about anything other than being put into a uniform like this hopefully-future colleague was wearing. I didn't just want to be wearing the same as him, I wanted to be wearing exactly his shirt, his cock cage, to be him, be inside him and him to be inside me. It was the strongest feeling of any kind I had ever known..
Er, is that what I will be wearing? I asked.
Yes, replied Jenson. Is that a problem? We require our slaves to be submissive and find that nakedness and restriction is an important part of that. The word slave' entered my head, but was quickly supplanted by nakedness and restriction' as more stimulating and my own cock was now extremely rigid and I could feel leaking pre-cum. Jenson looked down and noticed.
Apparently not a problem, he remarked. Perhaps we could pre-empt things with you removing your clothes, he said.
Almost immediately and without really thinking, I stripped, completely and without needing to be prompted. My glistening cock sprang free as I removed my underwear and I could see a ribbon of pre-cum drip down from it.
The uniformed guy referred to I realised as `15' came over to me, and took a tape measure. He measured my neck, chest, arms, waist, and then suddenly, without any real warning grabbed my cock and ball sack in one hand and measured around it with the other. I almost came with his hand around my cock and balls, but he let go quickly. He then left the room, leaving me standing there, stark naked and still erect in front of a boss about whom I only really knew a name. I realised that the 15 had also taken my clothes, and the papers I had signed, with him.
Well, said Jenson. I think you will fit in well here, and make a good slave.
The word for a second time.
Now beginning to register, and I realised that I had not really read what I had signed. My hard-on started to deflate slightly as it dawned on me that I may be in some kind of trouble.
I mean `worker' of course, force of habit, sorry. You will enjoy it here. It will be hard work, but think of the eighty thousand dollars in six month's time -- unless you decide to stay of course. A new development which suddenly seemed more promise than threat.
I was still processing this when `15' walked back in, with another identically dressed, and equally good looking colleague. This second one was carrying a coat-hanger with an identical shirt on it and came over to me. I could see that both his and -- as I supposed -- my -- shirt was made of a shiny synthetic nylon material. I later discovered that this was because it dried quickly and kept sweat inside when working, preserving a neat appearance -- in their eyes at least. It also meant that slaves could be hosed down while wearing it and would dry off quickly without needing ironing.
To me it felt delightfully sensual as it brushed past me and I started to become erect again, all thought of slave' and deciding to stay' banished from my mind. This new person (22 I was to discover) handed me a belt, and I realised just how their shirts were arranged as they were. I put on the belt. He then produced two suction cups, greased, and applied one each to my nipples. Quite roughly, and it hurt, as my nipples filled each, while I realised why their chests were so prominent, as mine now would be. As the blood engorged my nipples I felt almost everything stiffen, and more pre-cum start to leak from my cock. He then took my cock and scrotum, glanced at Jenson, who nodded slightly, and put on me a rubber cock cage. Like theirs, this had a ball divider and it pushed my scrotum lower and each ball out to the side, whilst propelling my already hard cock out and upwards. Its head was engorged with blood, and shiny from pre-cum.
Then he handed my my shirt. It was silky smooth and nylon and the most erotic thing I had ever put on. As I fastened the front and tucked it over and then under the belt to look as they did, I could feel every fibre of my cock hardening and lengthening, standing entirely upright. He handed me a plastic collar-stay which went over the top button and under each wing of the collar and tightened everything up, constraining the already perfectly fitting shirt around my body.
Good, said Jenson. You look the part. I hope you feel smart -- I can clearly see it is to your taste in some way at least he said as he looked down at my rock-hard cock. 22 and 15 withdrew, and I realised that I now looked exactly the same as them. I almost came.
Well, Jenson said, it's time we explained a few things, isn't it?