I wake up very early the next morning because my mind is filled with unfinished thoughts from last night. All that talk about this being nothing but a game really irks me. Damn it, I really don't want this to be just a game. I want to be Craig's slave. Craig's REAL SLAVE. And Craig, bless his heart, is doing everything he can to make sure I feel just how real it is.
Sure, I freaked out and tried to run away. Look at what happened to me. Not only did I get whipped really hard, but now Craig has curtailed a lot of my freedom and he's come up with a way for me to realize I'm his slave through and through. Now I know better than to ever try to escape again. And dammit, some guys will tell me I'm sick, but the truth is that I want to be trapped. I want all my freedom taken away from me. Besides, everything Craig arranged only applies to life in the dorm and in our room.
Yes, I hate it that Craig and Larry rearranged my classes and my major. I get to stay in school, but it's clear that the purpose of being educated here is to condition me and the way I think, to turn me into an intelligent and thoughtful slave, not some dumb piece of property or some ignorant slut. We talked about that over the break. Craig wants to form my mind as well as my body and my heart. Craig wants to own every part of me, every aspect, as his property. That's the way I want it to be. That's the way I need it to be. So I guess I shouldn't have freaked out when they started taking charge of my studies. Even that's being done for their sake. Craig promised he would let me graduate, otherwise even that might not happen. But he didn't promise I'd get to decide what to study.
The alarm goes off at 7. I rush to turn it off. "Good boy." Craig is already awake. "Saw you pacing around back and forth, boy. What's on your mind?"
I think a bit before deciding what to say. He doesn't need to hear me whining about anything. "I was thinking about how serious you're taking all this, Craig."
"I'm a fucking engineering student, dude. I'm serious about everything, and that includes you. This whole bdsm thing springing up all of a sudden. Wanting you to be my slave. Weird. Never had feelings like this before. But with you, Q, fuck, you need me need to break you. Then put you together exactly the way I want you to be, and it will be a much better Q than you are right now. You are fucking meant to be a slave, Q. You were probably also a slave in your past lives, maybe even a Greek slave who falls in love with its young Master. That's why we got you taking that course. It all fits, Q. Seriously."
I don't know how to respond to that. I just think it all over. So much power in his words. Never thought about past lives before. Not even sure I think it's true despite what a lot of people say. If it is true, I wonder whether I got whipped a lot in one of them. Maybe even started to want it? Shit.
Craig speaks again. "Take five dollars out of my wallet. Throw on gym shorts and a dirty T. Go get us coffee. You know how."
When I'm getting the money I remember that I'm no longer allowed to have any money of my own ever again. "Penniless," he said, and it sent a twinge to my cramped up little dick. I get the money, get dressed, and head out. It's getting cold already today and I'm shivering by the time I get back here with the coffee. When I get to the room, Craig is sitting at his desk printing something out.
"You got an email from Danny. I'm printing it so you can read it while I go take a shower." He leaves me there, butterflies in my stomach over what Danny wrote me.
@@@@@
SLAVEBOY Q,
My Brother Master sent me the clip he took from the other night. I enjoyed hearing you cry when your Master thrashed you. Doing it while you're wet: a nice touch. Somehow it makes it all seem a lot more humiliating, especially while others were watching. I watched it several times when I was getting my cock sucked. I actually shot my load when the third lash landed on your ass. You were lucky, faggot, that Craig stopped after only 3. I really think he should have gone to 5 after the shit you pulled. You're fucking lucky that he's still planning to keep you. Should have sent you out into the streets to hustle yourself the way that kid you gave your jacket to was doing. Too back prices are so low right now. I wonder how much a guy would pay to use you as a urinal.
Yes, I got a clip of that as well. Larry got a hold of it and sent it. It did my heart good to see that. To see it's no longer a big deal—I mean, you don't need to be coaxed (or threatened) to get you to do it. You know what you are. Some day, Q, you're going to do that for me too. Yes, indeed. Gulp me down. And it will be the best drink you ever had, faggot. From the first man who showed you what you were. First cock ever, if I remember.
Oh, by the way, I sent the clip of your whipping to Jeffrey. I'm sure he'll enjoy knowing you're still getting urinal training. I never did find out what Craig wanted as far as Jeffrey's concerned. I imagine that since he now completely owns you (I was in on that decision we made to let go of you) things will look different all around. Maybe Jeffrey will no longer want anything to do with you. Despite the fact that his piss was the first piss you ever tasted.
I don't think you'd get sick from it unless you had to drink down several loads at once, although I think you'd just puke because you drank so much. You'd puke if you drank too much of any liquid. What you need to keep in mind is that very few males drink what you're going to be drinking on a regular basis. Most of them would think it's just disgusting.
I'm glad you're writing by hand now. I agree that it's more personal. It's a way of being naked. When someone reads your handwriting, they're seeing a piece of you. On that score, you should always write to me naked, too. Although I imagine that Craig will probably be keeping you naked all the time.
I wonder what other new things he's put in place for you. it's going to be interesting to find out. We talked about some possibilities a while back, but I'm sure he's got his own list for you. Next time you write me, give me a list of the rules he has for you. Actually, this is even better than New Year's Resolutions. Your Master gave you those rules. The man who owns you. You wouldn't dare . . .
I'm not surprised Craig is treating spanking you as an art. Craig is studying to be an engineer. I could see how thoroughly he considers things by what he looked like when he was punishing you. One sees only a bit of him in the films. And speaking of seeing, I was lovely watching how your flesh responded to such a severe beating. One lash at a time. I've watched it slow motion a few times as well. It's quite interesting to watch the welts slowly appear on your naked ass.
I'm sure men all over the world are probably watching you get punished by your Master. Too bad your face isn't in it.
I like the new line-up of your classes this semester. I have to meet this Larry some day. Sounds like a very interesting man. Does he have slaves of his own? Oh, and I'm glad they got the idea to redesign your academic program. And that you're in Schillinger's class! That guy is a true fucking pervert. I'm sure he'll be making plans to molest you the minute you walk into his class with that slave collar around your neck. Don't drop a pencil around him, kid. I'm not kidding!
Gotta run. Don't forget to send me the rules. Zeke says hi. He's here for a visit.
MASTER DANNY
@@@@@@@
When Craig gets back from the shower he says, "I didn't dry my feet so you could lick the water off them for me. Get over here." He's still standing by the door. Quickly I crawl over and fuck, this is hot. The water on his feet probably dripped off his body. I'm really drinking him up in a way. He stops me after a little while and I'm disappointed. He drops his towel on my head. "Use the towel now," he says. "Then you can kind of wipe yourself off with my damp towel. That will be your bath for the day, slaveboy. Not gonna waste any more water on you."
HFS. Holy fucking shit! Maybe I can use that as something for my smut-writing class. Simple enough and If I take out any mention of the word `boy', the slave could be either sex so it doesn't necessarily have to be a gay story.
So there I am, on the floor by the door, wiping down my body with Craig's damp towel, really concentrating on the parts that stink the fastest. I look up and Craig is sitting in his desk chair facing me, watching the whole show and stroking his dick. "That was fucking hot watching you wipe my dirty towel all over your body like a homeless waif. Now crawl over here and suck my cock and I'll let you put on some deodorant so you don't stink in class to day."
His cock is still so nicely damp and cool and it feels harder than ever when I start licking my way up it. Damn I love my Master's cock. Good thing. And I also love the little noises he makes when I'm worshipping his dick like the hungry faggot I am. Faggot for Craig. The Master's Cocksucker. Damn he's really hot. He comes in no time and it shoots out of his hole hot and hard. Best breakfast of all. "I pissed in the shower, so I don't have any more to give you right now, Q. I'll save some up later for you to drink like a good faggot."
AS I often say, he sure has a way with words. He goes to his toiletry bag and takes out his GayBar deodorant. I thought he'd just toss it to me. Nope. He brings it over. "Raise your arms up over your head, Q." When I do so, he leans over and swipes the deodorant over my pits himself. Why does it turn me on so much I feel like he just fucked me again?
"Okay. Get dressed quickly so we have time for breakfast. And oh yea, I have a surprise for you. You'll get it this afternoon. A nice surprise. Come'on. And oh, why don't you just give me your food card. No need for you to have it any longer since I'll always be there when you get food."
Another micro-humiliation as I take it out of my wallet and surrender it to him.
We head downstairs. I have to walk across campus for Schillinger's class later so I wear sneakers. And Craig gives me his heavy hoodie to wear. I love it because it smells like him. I'll feel like he's hugging me all day long.
I reach for a donut when we're in the breakfast line and Craig slaps my hand. "I give you your food," he says, and the guy next to him overhears and stares at me funny. "He retarded or something?" he asks Craig. "Yeah right, dude, like he'd be in college if he was. And stop using the word retarded, you moron. It's not polite." And with that he evades the question. Four points to Craig. But the guy is still looking at me funny. I just lower my eyes while we move along and Craig fills my tray. Good. At least I know he's not going to starve me. And, bless him, he even gives me the donut. Well, half of it. We're splitting it.
I follow him to the table he wants us to sit at. "Go get us coffee," he tells me before I sit down, so I go do it. When I get back, the guy who said "retard" is sitting next to Craig. Fuck. I hand Craig his coffee and sit down. I lower my eyes.
"So, here's the deal, Claude," he says. "See the collar he's wearing?" When Claude nods, Craig goes on. "It's a slave collar. The boy's a faggot slaveboy. Belongs to me. I run its life. It serves me. Sometimes it even blows my friends. So if you can handle it, maybe I'll even make it suck your dick as well."
I can't believe Craig is saying all this to this dude who really came off as pretty ignorant! How can he take such a chance? I must have a shocked look on my face, because all of a sudden Craig starts laughing and then Claude joins in as well.
Craig reaches out and lightly slaps my face, making it look like just a friendly gesture. "We're fucking with you, Q. This is a guy I know from my department. He's totally cool with us, with what you are."
"Am I supposed to say thank you, Sir, for your doing this to entertain me?"
"No, but you are going to make arrangements to give my buddy Claude here a nice blow job tonight after supper. And make sure you swallow his cum."
I lower my eyes again. "Yes, Sir."
"Howard Hall. Room 203. 7pm. Don't be late, faggot," says Claude.
Fuck. "I won't, Sir. I promise."
And so, while I'm trying to eat my breakfast while wallowing in humiliation, Craig decides to heap another log onto the fire.
"Q, you have my permission to go take a shower before you head over there. I don't want him to have to smell you if he makes you get naked before you suck him off."
"Yes, Sir. thank you, Sir."
Craig turns to Claude. "Showers are privileges in this slave's life. This morning I just let it wipe itself clean with my used towel. It might be a little ripe by evening."
Fuck! H times 12! But at least I know now that Craig realizes there might be complications if he keeps me unwashed for very long. I might not smell good naked. He wouldn't want the men he sends me to service have to smell my stink if they order me to get naked before kneeling at their feet.
THE END OF THIS CHAPTER
My name's Greg. ogt009966@gmail.com Write me any time, please?
I've lifted a few pics to represent Danny, Jeffrey, Matt, Craig, and the sub. Tell me about your reaction to the story and I'll send them to you.
I'm on Facebook as Gary X Gordon. Friend me.
I'm also on Telegram. Email me and I'll give you my account name.
When not send a little money to Nifty: https://donate.nifty.org so we can keep the site going with all these hot stories?