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I Have Never Seen My Master's Face
Part 1 – Rules
I started college as an 18yo, average student, not really applying myself, spending too much of my time in the gym or getting stoned. At 5'11", 175, mostly smooth and lean, I had great glutes, and a respectable dick, nice pecs and shoulders. Medium brown hair and brown eyes, if you're wondering. Also deeply closeted primarily due to my upbringing.
A couple buddies and I went to one of the casinos in town and I caught The Bug. I ended up borrowing more money than I could repay, and before the end of the year, I had flunked out of school, my parents cut me off, and I was homeless trying to scrape up enough money to buy food, and being hounded daily by the loan shark's thugs. They `encouraged' me to start blowing guys for money, and then leaned on me for more. One day I was in an alley on my knees in front of an ordinary looking guy, giving him the sucking of his life. He blew a watery load down my throat and pulled out, and before I knew it someone behind me pulled some kind of sack over my head, and something soft was pressed over my face. My head swam and I passed out.
I woke up slowly, gradually becoming aware of what was happening. I didn't know where I was. Some kind of dark room with huge bright lights pointed at me. On my knees, with my hands secured behind me. I guess I struggled and some guy kicked me in the crotch and shouted `Keep still, bitch!". I couldn't see much with the lights and I guess whatever they dosed me with made it hard to form words. I was just coherent enough to figure out I was in trouble, and the only thing I could do at the moment was not make anyone mad.
A hand grabbed at my hair and pulled my head back. A shadow passed in front of me that I somehow realized was a camera. It disappeared, replaced again by the lights. Someone grabbed me by the upper arms and held me up, and someone else I guess grabbed the front of my tshirt and tore or cut it off me. The camera came back. Then the hands pulled down my sweats, and I was forced over onto my face. I felt a heavy boot between my shoulder blades and someone pulling my sweats and sneakers off. Someone's boot came up between my legs, not gently, pulling my ass into the air.
There were at least three men. The one with the camera was murmuring to himself, I thought, but I guess he was on a radio or a headset. After a while the sack or whatever was pulled over my head again, they stood me up and marched me across the room and put me into some kind of crate. It felt like rough plywood with 2x4 framing. They nailed it shut and I was stuck. I could smell the knock out stuff they used. There was some kind of towel or something soaked in it boarded up with me.
I don't remember much after that until I was jolted awake with a spray of cold water. I was naked, and my head uncovered, but my arms were still tied. The cold water was followed with something soapy and the more water. I was able to focus on two men, one with the hose, the other with a big gun pointed right at my head.
"You awake now, kid?"
I tried to say something, but my head was still spinning and I couldn't form words. I tried to make a noise and all that came out was a kind of croak.
WHAM! He kicked me in the crotch. "Don't make another sound, motherfucker. You owe Mr D—a whole lot of money, and he's tired of waiting for it. He found someone who's gonna pay off your debt for you. From now on, you belong to him. I don't know what he wants with you and I don't care. This is how it is, kid. You do was you're told and you might get out of this with all brains on the inside of your skull. If not..." He pressed the gun against my forehead and that was pretty much that.
Still not entirely sure what was going on, my head was covered with the sack again. I was hoisted up and frogmarched what seemed like a long way. Over grass, over concrete, turning one way, up some stairs, down some others
Eventually we entered what sounded like a large room. The air was cool, and the floor cold. They put me on my knees again. I felt one of them fumble with the front of the wet sack covering my head and rip open a slit at about chin level. I saw someone pull it open and a large, half hard penis was pushed in
My head was pushed forward and I felt the hot wet head of the cock brush my chin and lips. I was still pretty groggy, but I guess I'd gotten to the point where I just sucked any dick that got shoved at me. I put my tongue out and licked the underside of his cock which was wet with salty pre. I opened my lips and pressed as far forward as the men's arms on my shoulders would let me and took about four inches of a thick throbbing cock into my mouth. I could tell I still had a long way to go before the whole thing was in.
I licked and sucked and twisted my head back and forth. I began to hum and grunt softly into the cock, and walk my lips further and further down the shaft. It got harder and thicker until I could barely stretch my lips around it. When it got to the back of my throat, I choked and tried to pull away. Someone grabbed my head and he pushed his hips at me, forcing his thick meat further down my throat. Trying to overcome my gag reflex and unable to breathe, I swallowed, feeling my throat pull his cock deeper into my gullet with him pushing even further. Finally I felt my face press against his body and I knew I'd hit the bottom of the biggest cock I've ever sucked.
He held me there as my throat spasmed and tried to eject him. My jaw ached and just as I started to really worry if I was going to suffocate on a stranger's cock, he pulled out and stepped away from me. "Nice. He has potential," he said. "Tell D— we'll try him out. The first payment should be there by the time you get back to him." Everyone seemed to walked away at this point, and suddenly I was alone.
Alone, naked except for the torn hood over my head, kneeling on some cold tile with my wrists tied in behind me, I wasn't sure what had happened. I'd been kidnapped and shipped somewhere, a man put his cock through a hole in my hood, had me suck him for a bit, and then left, apparently approving of his purchase. He didn't fuck my throat, or cum. He just got hard, choked me on his meat, and left.
Before I could think about standing or trying to get free, I heard someone else enter the room. "Close your eyes," he said. "The lights are dim in here, but your eyes will be very sensitive for a while." He fumbled with the hood and pulled it off my head. He whistled. "You are a beauty. I can see why Mr K— invested in you."
He helped me to my feet. "I'm called Mason, I am Mr K—'s assistant. Open your eyes, just a bit, so your eyes can adjust." I opened my eyes, and made out a tall, muscular man, probably 35 or 40, in a well-tailored suit. "I have some instructions for you, but before that I should show you to your room."
I glanced around, and I was in a sex dungeon. Not a sleazy basement, but a full-blown, carefully planned room for bondage and discipline sex. The walls, ceilings and floors were black, but instead of concrete, the floor at least was gleaming black granite tile. I couldn't make out much of the rest of the room, except the walls were covered with and hooks holding whips and ropes and chains. There was at least one long shelf full of dildos and plugs and who knows what else. I had been kneeling in front of what looked like a large table covered with a leather pad. Mason ushered me through a narrow door to one side.
"This is where you will sleep when you're not put somewhere else." I looked around, the small room was long and narrow, much of it taken up with a small cot. There was a folding chair at the foot of the cot and beyond that a shower curtain and some kind of toilet/shower space. "For the time being, you are not to leave this room without permission. When you are wanted, someone will come get you and take you to where you are needed. Your meals will be brought to you. Eventually, Mr K– will arrange for someone to make sure you get some exercise and that your other needs are met. At some point, you may be allowed into the playroom by yourself, and eventually into other parts of the estate." He looked at me. "Do you have any questions?"
"I don't understand what's happening." I croaked flatly.
"Mr K– has purchased you as a slave. He has had several others, and mostly he uses them for his own sexual entertainment. He is a busy, important man, and demands total obedience from all of his servants. And especially his slaves. That's all you need to know."
"But –"
Mason's voice was calm and steady, but stern. He meant business. "You have no choice in this. As a slave, you have no rights, and no recourse. You will do as you are told." He went on. "You are never to question or delay obeying his commands, or you will be punished. Mr K's punishments can be quite harsh. I have seen injuries to disobedient slaves that required medical attention.
"You are his property," he cautioned. "He can and will do whatever he wants with you, to you, whenever he wants, and you will thank him for it. He will keep you until he tires of you, or you have repaid your debt to his satisfaction, or until he orders your departure."
"Departure?" I asked stupidly.
"If you displease him greatly—well, his last slave just -- One morning he wasn't here anymore. I don't know if he was sold off, freed, or ... well, disposed of in some other way. And I don't ask. Mr K owes none of us any explanations."
Mason went over more rules. I was to keep myself absolutely clean `inside and out' at all times. I was to be naked at all times, unless given permission to dress in clothing Mr K would provide. I was to be ready at any time of the day or night to entertain Mr K as required.
"And finally," Mason ended, "you are never to look Mr K in the face. When he enters a room you are in, you are to immediately kneel and bow your head, and stay that way until you are ordered to move, or he leaves. If you are together and he tells you to move, you are required to avert your eyes or close them. My advice is to just keep your eyes closed unless he tells you to open them. If he ever catches you anywhere close to making eye-contact ... Well, just don't.
"There's a button by the bedstand." He pointed at the small bare table by the head of the cot. "If there is an emergency, it will ring upstairs and someone will check on you. There are also security cameras everywhere, including in here." He pointed up at a corner of the ceiling and I made out a blinking red light. The only place you can't be monitored is in there," he indicated the bathroom end of the room, "but if you disappear in there for too long, security will notice and send someone down to check. Don't hide in there any more than you have to.
"Speaking of which, you should probably get cleaned up and get some rest. Even though you've been unconscious, the gas takes a lot out of you. I'll come down in a while with some food. Mr K will be looking for you later tonight." With that, he cut the ropes off my wrists and closed the door behind him.
By then, my eyes were adjusting. There was a dim, bare lightbulb in the ceiling, but no switch or cord I could see. There was a small narrow window by the ceiling. The glass was frosted but I could see there was bright light on the other side. It was daytime.
I took a quick shower. There was only cold water that came from a bare pipe with no shower head. There was a dispenser with plain hair and body wash. I also found a hose and a pipe. Realizing what `inside and out' meant, I took care of that too. I used a rough towel hanging on a hook to dry off as best I could, climbed onto the cot and stared at the cold red light on the camera.
I must have dozed off, because I woke suddenly with the sound of the door opening. It was Mason with a large plastic blender-cup thing with a thick, gray looking sludge in side. "It doesn't look like much, but it doesn't taste bad. It's all you'll get for a while until you get used to the routine and Mr K decides to vary your diet. There's also a small dose of sedative in it designed to keep you ... calm ... until Mr K is certain you understand your place." I don't know how long it had been since I'd eaten, and before I realized it, I'd chugged the whole thing down. "Good," Mason said. "This is for water," he set a large plastic tumbler on the table. "I'll leave you to rest now. I'll probably have another shake for you tonight before Mr K comes to see you." He bent down, putting his face next to mine. "Do yourself a favor," he said softly but sternly, "and just forget your old life. It doesn't matter anymore. Forget your old name too. He'll give you a new one when he's ready."
After he left, I tried the door and it was unlocked. I looked up at the camera and decided not to chance it. I started to wonder how I was going to get out of this, whether I should try to escape or overpower Mason or `Mr K'.
I settled back in the cot and pulled the old blanket over my naked body. I'd spent the last several weeks homeless, in debt I couldn't repay. This room wasn't comfortable, but it was warm and dry. There was food, I guess, and I didn't imagine being a rich man's sex slave could be much worse than selling myself to total strangers on the streets. The sedative started to set in and I could only like back and close my eyes. I drifted back to sleep more relaxed than I'd been in a long time.