This is a work of fiction. All characters in it are over 18 and you must be over 18 to read it. It takes place in an alternative America where slavery is legal and slaves over 18 can be used for sex. The main character enslaves himself and finds out what it actually means to be another man's property.
Never do anything like this in real life. Respect others, report any suspected abuse, and wear protection in real life.
Don't let your hormones get you into trouble.
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Interfering with a slave collar
Part Ten
A part of me shut down after what happened in the shower. I knew there was no way I could live and stay sane if I let myself remember he was my dad and that this was the house I grew up in and so I tried to forget. I became Cula, in a way, to survive. I stopped seeing him as my dad and feared him the way a slave fears it's master. I think he sensed it, too. He stopped calling for me at night. Instead, he used me however and whenever he wanted. I would serve him breakfast at the table and he would casually unzip and say, "Under the table, slave." He didn't have to tell me to suck at that point. I knew what under the table meant. Other times it would be a gesture while he talked on the phone in his office or watched a movie or television. I would obediently kneel down and gag and choke on his cock, until the inevitable flooding of my mouth with his cum. Then it was like it never happened. Until the next time. He didn't fuck me again for a week. And when he did, it was because we had company.
Part Eleven
Male slaves aren't allowed to wear anything, but the orange slave shorts. The one exception to this is in their master's or another private home and for no more than 1 day per week. It was a compromise worked out by politicians to ensure masters had some freedom over their property without overly increasing the risk of escape. This was the first time since that cell I had wore anything other than the shorts. I had woken up to Freddy shaking me, handing me a plastic bag, and telling me to shower and then dress for the master. In the bag was my old jockstrap, my old baseball jersey, and my custom mouth guard from last year. My cleats were in there too, along with tube socks. But my compression pants and the rest of the uniform wasn't. Once I was clean, I put it all on and wore it to serve my master breakfast. His eyes lit up when he saw me and he stood up without taking a bite of his food. He had me open my mouth and moved his finger in between my lips with the mouth guard in. Then he turned me around and bent me over the table. I tensed, expecting a hard fuck. But he just slapped my ass and then said, "Perfect." He sat back down to eat and I started to leave, but he stopped me by grabbing my arm and turning me to face him. Then he said, "You called me dad last week in the shower. You're getting whipped today or tomorrow on the post. Forty full lashes or until I feel you've learned your place." I started shaking. 5 had damaged me enough I still hurt and blocked out the memories. Forty would scar me for life, if not kill me. He hesitated, as if thinking up something, and then said: Of course, if you prove you know your place tonight and serve without hesitation, eagerly, no matter what is asked, I could reconsider. I will give our guests all a comment card. For every point out of ten they give you, I will deduct one lash. The outfit will allow easy access and the mouth guard protect your teeth. How's that sound? I thanked him. And then I went into the kitchen and tried to calm down. I didn't know what was going to happen, but I needed to be on my best behavior. The most eager happy subservient willing slave in the world.
Part 12
Coach Haden
I couldn't believe it when Jackson offered to host poker at his house, but there were rumors about his son and I guess this was his way of dispelling them. I actually really liked the kid. He wasn't a brat like most of the wealthier kids in the neighborhood and he had been a hell of a baseball player before he quit. And cute, too, but didn't treat girls like shit the way some boys do. That's why I was shocked when he opened the door. He had a slave haircut and was wearing nothing but our team jersey, a jockstrap, cleats, socks, and a slave collar. I asked, "Davey??" He nodded and said, "Yes, master. This way, master." I followed, unable to wrap my head around the reality of Davey being a slave. But I also couldn't help but stare at his ass as he walked away. He was smooth as a baby, every bit of him I could see, and my dick was hardening just looking at him. I hadn't ever fucked a boy, not even a slave, but I could see the appeal looking at him. The other guys were already in the room when I got there. Davey pulled out my seat, then knelt facedown in the position of those full use slaves at a whore house. Jackson saw me glance at the boy and said, "Yes, that's Davey. He collared himself. A judge heard his testimony and turned him over to me as a full use piece of chattel. Isn't that right, slave?" Davey nodded and said, "Yes, master." I asked, "Why the outfit?" Instead of answering, Jackson looked at Davey. Davey hesitated, started to speak, stopped, then continued, "It is to make it easier for my master and his guests to use me and punish me if I don't please them. This slave exists only to serve and please, sir." My dick finished chubbing up at that.
Davey
Coach Haden had always been a hero of mine. His son and I were the same age so he had coached every baseball team I had played on since I was a kid. But I remembered what my dad had said and I knew I had to do anything to please him. He was 45, 5'10, and 185 pounds. He had coal black hair and tan skin from being outdoors coaching. He was wearing red basketball type shorts and a plain t-shirt. When I said why I was there, he looked shocked. He looked at my dad and said, "Is he serious?" My dad nodded and replied: He wasn't a slave for a week before he was on his knees for a business associate of mine. I would never have allowed it, but the boy begged. He even spread his legs like a slut and licked the man clean after. I insisted he wear the mouthguard today because he likes it rough and wants to get punched. Isn't that right, boy? Tell him about Tex. I looked down at the floor, but said, "I sucked his dick during dinner, master, and then he fucked me on the dinner table. Afterwards, I licked him clean and thanked him." My dad spoke quietly to Coach. I heard him saying, "He wants to be used hard today and fully broken in. That's why I invited you over." My dad whispered into my ear, "A black eye or a busted lip might be worth a a few lashes." I crawled to Coach Haden and looked up at him. Then I whispered, "Hurt me, master?" And he did. He started out slapping me across the face. Left side and right side and then back and forth. Then he stood up and pulled me up off my knees.
Coach Haden
It was like this kid released something in me I didn't know was there. I slapped him and watched his face turn red as I hit him. Then I gripped him by the collar and dragged him into his old bedroom. I'd always felt bad about the way slaves were treated, but this was different. He had collared himself and his own dad said he was a faggot and pain slut. And it was Davey. There was something special about a piece of property you practically helped raise. I pushed him face down on the bed and then went into the closet to try and find a belt. The only one in there was kind of a thin brown leather, but I figured it'd do well enough. I looked at his smooth little butt, pulled back my arm, and let it fly. It cracked against his ass and his whole body jumped. I could see the red line of it against his pale butt. I liked the way it looked so I did it again and again. He was blubbering like a baby, tears and snot running down his face. I asked him, "Do you really like that, Davey? You a pain slut?" He looked at me, messy faced, and said, "Yes, master. Thank you, master." I pulled back the belt to spank him again, but then realized something. My dick was a hundred percent hard. A few more times smacking that butt and I might jizz in my pants. I'd waste that load and the opportunity to see what recently free slaveboy cunt was like. I pushed him down into the bed and pulled my shorts and underwear off. Then I spit on my dick, rubbed that saliva all around my dick until it was nice and wet, kicked his legs apart, and fucked him. But it wasn't even him I was really fucking. It was all those cocky young assholes I had coached who thought they were hot shit because they got teenage pussy when they wanted it. All the disrespectful teenage jocks who talked shit about me behind my back or who I had to all but fight to get to do their goddamned jobs on the team. It was every teenage boy with a nice ass I saw in the shower who could use an attitude adjustment and to learn his place. And it felt good. My eight inch dick tore into his ass. I shoved hard and deep, not giving a fuck how it felt to him. I slobbered and spit on his face, letting him know he was a worthless slut and cumdump. I wrapped my hands around his throat and choked him as I railed him hard and fast and deep. And then I flipped him over, pushed his legs up, and looked in his eyes as I fucked him. The pain was there. My dick was hurting him. But he was also rock hard. His little dick was solid and leaking slime all over itself. It was so fucking queer it pissed me off. How do you teach a slut a lesson if they like it? I leaned down and bit into his smooth neck, making him cry out. Then I pulled up and hit him hard across the face. Once, twice, three times. I could see where both cheeks would be bruised, but I wanted more. I busted his lip with my fist and then hit him in the gut. The sounds he made were like an aphrodisiac. It took me about thirty more seconds to jizz his asshole.
Davey
My body hurt. My ass stung from the belt. Even with the mouthpiece to protect me, my face and lip hurt. My ribs felt bruised. Coach's sweat had dripped all over me, leaving me wet with his stink. And my butthole felt torn. I could feel his nut leaking out of it. I gasped when he pulled his dick out of me. But I also knew what was expected of slaves like me by now. As he stood up, I got to my knees as quickly as my wounded body would let me. And I cleaned his dick. I licked his cock clean and his balls. I sucked off the mess from him using me. Then I said, "Thank you, master." He looked down at me for a second and shook his head. He replied, "You were such a good kid. Shame you like this shit. You can nut now." I was confused for a second, then realized what he wanted. I spit on my cock and started jerking it. He gripped my face and looked into my eyes as I was fucking my hand, just watching my face as I got closer and closer. When I came, he shook his head again, spit in my face, called me a faggot, and left the room. I sat covered in my own nut and cried.
Jackson
When Haden came out, covered in sweat and smelling like sex, the whole room cheered. The other guys were more than ready for their turns. When they saw Davey, they actually started patting Haden on the back. The kid finally looked fully like a slave. His lip was puffy and cheeks were swelling up. He had the beginning of black eyes. His pale skin showed the red marks on his ass. The bank would know I was taking this seriously. And once the guys here signed the paperwork saying the kid was meant to be a slave and enjoyed it, the court would extend his slave contract from ten years to life and double the lien amount. I unzipped and gestured for my son to come over. I needed to take a piss and it was time he learned to drink it.