When Danny awakens me in the morning, he rolls me off the bed and onto the floor. "Crawl to the bathroom, Mikey, and get into the tub. Kneel up and close your eyes. Don't peek."
I crawl on the carpet, hardly awake, my head hanging and my eyes down and fixed on the backs of his feet as he leads me into the bathroom. It hurts a bit to have to crawl on the tiles, but I don't have to go too far before I'm up against the tub. I get in arms first and then lift one leg into the tub and Danny helps me with my right leg.
I kneel up and close my eyes as ordered. I know what is coming and much to my surprise I'm thrilled to get covered by Danny's morning piss, so warm, so symbolic. I realize how much stronger it is in the mornings but I'd never had any reason to pay any attention to it before. I'm relieved that Danny doesn't make me drink it, but I find myself wondering if the day will come when that won't matter to him and he'll be relieving himself down my throat before he even gets out of bed. The thought both terrifies me and sets something stirring within me, from that part of me what is nudging me further into the darkness of the type of slavery I always wished to experience.
As if he anticipates what might be on my mind, he reminds me that "piss is a much bigger part of your life now, Mikey, that will always be true for a lowly-regarded faggot slave like you're meant to become." What really blows my mind and almost knocks me into another dimension is that Danny says this to me in his tender affectionate voice and it makes me purr despite any remaining sense of dignity I'm trying to hang on to like a life raft in a tumultuous sea. What can I say other than "yes, Master," please take me where you want me to go."????? I say those words and he reaches out to caress my cheek. He swipes his finger lightly through his piss on my face and sticks his finger to my lips. I suckle, surrendering even further, praying he won't feed me any more. No sense delaying the inevitable, especially since I understand that by doing so I give him exquisite pleasure, the pleasure of a marauding Dom invading and conquering new territory.
He runs the shower and bids me clean myself of every trace of nighttime slime and morning piss. He leaves the shower curtain open and leans up against the counter watching me. This makes me feel even more naked than ever, especially when he orders me to "bend over and scrub that crack and hole." The blood rushes to my head as I try to use both hands to wash what he conquered last night until he give me permission to stand up again. I get dizzy and almost lose my balance but he steadies me by clamping a hand over my pec and then proving to himself that my nipples are still sore enough to get a reaction out of me.
I knew this was an important issue for him because he texted me Thursday afternoon. "If your nipples aren't still sore, use clothespins or other clamps and make sure they're sore when I pick you up tomorrow afternoon. I expect you to make sure that your nipples are always sore whenever I bring you to myself. It's a good practice for all part-time slaves to do to regulate themselves even when a particular Master doesn't have a claim on them for a period of time. It helps keep the submissive mindset fresh in a slave's mind at all times."
Why was I not surprised that when Craig opened the door to our room to go take a piss in the morning, he found two clothespins leaning up against our door? He tossed them on top of my while I was still lying in my bed. "I think he sent these for you, Gary," he told me. Sure enough. It made sense later that day. And of course, I used them. I even discovered that I came hard when I jerked off while they were still hurting me. Of course I pulled them off as soon as I shot my load. I just yanked them right off and then bit down on the pain. Pain. Part of my life as much as piss. For a brief instant I was willing to consider calling all of this off. I'm just an ordinary fag and that's the way it will be. None of this Alpha or Dom energy taking over my life. It was only a brief instant, because I quickly realized that my life would be so boring without what Danny and even Scott have dragged me into.
...Saturday morning with Danny . . .
Speaking of being dragged. Danny makes himself a cup of coffee then makes me drink some of it—from his mouth. That was all I get. Just a taste. No breakfast. Right away he clips a small chain to the collar he put around my neck last night and leads me into the dungeon area he had created in a large back bedroom. He has me lie on a table up against a wall. He binds my wrists to the sides of the table. Then he puts leather manacles around my ankles, clips my feet together and hooks them to a chain which he uses to raise my legs up over my head and clip the chains to the wall above the table. My ass and upper thighs are exposed and I feel terribly vulnerable.
He leans down on the table at my ass and spreads my cheeks apart so he can inspect my hole to see what shape it was in after he fucked me several times last night. "No bruising at all. It paid to fuck you gently, Mikey. Don't wanna damage the slaveboy's pussy."
Fuck! I hate that word. But he quickly gets my mind off it because he proceeds to swat my exposed ass with a thin whippy cane again and again and I get lost in a big outcry which was more panic than pain, so afraid was I that he's going to turn that part of my body into mincemeat, like I'd seen in one of the porn clips I used to view when jerking off. There are no illusions here. I know what he can to do me if he wants. I'm completely at his mercy.
He stops soon and I was gratefully surprised although I sing quite a bit when he caresses the flesh he just thrashed albeit rather gently. so to speak.
"Look at me," he commands. You realize what I could do to you if I wanted to right now?"
I didn't know whether I was supposed to answer. I got a quick answer. "DO YOU?!!!" he shouted as he slapped my crack and hole with his outstretched palm. "Yes, Master, please, Master, you can do whatever you want to this slave, Master. It is at your mercy."
I've read enough bdsm porn to know how to address a Master who is talking about beating me harder than he already has. And then, surprise of surprises, he starts toying with my dick. "This the very last time this little dick of yours will feel this kind of pleasure, Mikey. I'm taking that right away from you this morning."
Much to my relief, Danny took me down again and led me back into the kitchen. He gently showed me how to make a sort of oatmeal from a jar of mix he had in the cupboard. A simple word was on the jar: gruel. A mixture of water and milk is warmed in a saucepan and when it starts to bubble I'm to slowly add in the mix, stirring continually until it becomes a pot of warm "stuff"—gruel, I guess. Then I'm to put the saucepan aside and scramble a couple eggs for him while he puts in toast. The eggs go into a single dish, the toast is buttered and place on the side of the dish, and the dish is set at the table with a fork and an fresh cup of coffee.
I get the picture. I'm not stupid. The slop in the pot is for me. He gets the normal breakfast while my slop is cooling off. He snaps his fingers and points to the floor. I fall to the floor and feel him nudge my face with an outstretched foot. "Get under there and service your Master's feet, faggot." I get it. I suck his feet while he enjoys his breakfast. When he's done he nudges me again. I kneel up alongside his seat. He leans my head back and pries my mouth open. Next thing I know, he's dribbling more coffee from his mouth into mind and this is the hottest thing that has ever happened to me or so it seems.
"Spoon the gruel from the pot into your bowl and lay it on the floor. Soak the pot. Get down again and eat your breakfast. Make sure you eat it all and lick the bowl clean. Then use your hands to clean your face and lick them clean as well. After you show me your clean bowl I'll allow you to stand and clean up in here. Then crawl to me inside, wherever I may be."
He sits and watches as I eat my slop which tastes better than I thought it would taste. Holy fucking shit, I'm damn glad I'm not 24/7. I don't think I could handle having to eat this way every morning. The worst part is licking my fingers clean after I used them to clean off the gruel that ended up on my face instead of in my belly.
Danny has esp, I swear. Just as resentment was setting in, when I crawl inside to him he has a warm cloth waiting that he uses to do a better job cleaning off my face. He's completely dressed by now in jeans and a tight black t-shirt with a thick leather belt around his waist that I find myself hoping I don't get to feel. He helps me up from the floor and into his arms like he did yesterday and he cuddles me as if I'm a precious pet that he's so happy to own and care for. It makes up for everything and I realize that he's well aware of the way he's dealing with me, alternating sweetness and severity and leaving me wanting more of anything he wants to give me.
It all abruptly ends. "Stand up," he commands. "Get in the car," he orders. I'm a bit puzzled. What will I wear. Does he really want me to walk out of his house stark naked?
He does. He gets in the car himself. "Seatbelt on. Legs always spread. Hands beneath your legs. You may look to see where we're going until I order you to drop your eyes again."
It's a nice ride on a lovely morning. I'm a little chilly but that doesn't matter to him. We end up driving down a country road until we get to a long driveway. A large letter E identifies what is at the end of the road. "Evander's," he tells me. I've heard of this place before but I've never been there. I'm surprised at how many cars are parked there. We get out of the car and I follow him into the lovely store. "Slaves and subs must always be naked here. I don't like having to bother making you strip inside. Just as easy to get here with you already naked. Follow me. You don't have to drop your eyes, but don't be staring around like you're some tourist in a new and interesting part of town. Show some custody of the eyes, Mikey. Notice that there are straps available just about everywhere in case a Master needs to discipline a slave who's getting too distracted to pay attention to what the Master wants."
Several naked boys—and men---are there so I don't feel totally on display. My attention is drawn to a hairless man with a sagging ass who looks old enough to be my grandfather led on a leash by a Master hardly any older than I am. At first it looks like the naked old man has had his dick removed, but as we draw closer to him I can see that it's simply a question of it being locked into a very tiny cage.
"The size of a slaveboy's dick can be reduced by a series of progressively smaller cages. I'm only getting you into one that's snug. I have no intention of modifying your body. After all, I haven't decided that I would want to own you completely. The college doesn't allow for students to be turned into full-time slaves before the beginning of sophomore year. You have more time to roam free, Mikey. Enjoy it while you can."
Danny puts his arm around my neck in a quasi-affectionate way and guides me through the amazingly well-stocked show room into a back room where he brings me right up to the good looking older man standing there in business attire with the letter E on his shirt. "This is a very new slaveboy I'm taking under my wing at times as it explores the nature of its own submissiveness. I want it to experience being locked into chastity, at least for as much time as it spends with me. I'd like something fairly snug but not restricting. I have no right to make any reductions at this point. I simply want this neophyte to learn what will eventually be part of its life as an owned slave."
"May I?" the man says, reaching out his hands towards me. Danny says, "please, proceed however you think best."
"Spread your legs more, boi," the man orders me. I discover his name is William. He reaches out with both hands. It seems like he's just copping a feel, a very thorough feel. "This is how I measure a slave," he says to Danny. "I don't need a tape measure. If you excuse me for a couple minutes, I'll go in the back and return with some devices that should fit. At this point, it would be better for the slave if you would blindfold it. A lot of slaveboys get anxious the first time they see what they're going to end up getting their dicks locked into."
I'm deftly blinded. My fucking mind is blown. What next?
William comes back. "Either of these three should be fine," he tells Danny. They discuss the three and how they differ as if I'm not even there.
"Let's try this one," says Danny.
So: one of them wraps his fingers around my sac and pulls it down while the other sticks something a around the bottom of my dick then something a little cold over my cock. He pushes the two together and I start moaning because it kind of hurts. "Shut up, boy!" says Danny. There's fiddling around and my poor dick gets squashed a bit. More fiddling around. Both hands release me and there I am with this thing on my dick. "Looks good," says Danny. "Feels weird," I say. "You'll get used to it, boy," William assures me.
That's all. Blindfold comes off. I look down. Fuck. My dick is inside a wire cage. I can see it's squished.
"That's it?" I ask. Danny messes up my hair as if that's gonna distract me. William hands him a couple little keys. "He'll have trouble sleeping the first couple nights but boys like him quickly get used to it." I'm not stupid. I've seen guys locked into these things in porn and for some crazy reason they all seem to look pretty happy. Proud of themselves, even. Fuck. Shit. Damn. I can't get hard any more. No matter what.
I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. Tears come to my eyes when it really hits home. I'm not a free boy any longer. I can't get it off. Fuck! I can't fucking GET OFF!
Danny makes me look into his eyes. "Now you'll be able to give your full attention to my cock without getting distracted by a selfish desire to get off yourself. You don't get off anymore, Mikey. You sit down to piss and it will drip down through the cage. Always pour some warm water over yourself when you're done then dry underneath it with some toilet paper. When you're in the shower, make a lot of suds in your hands and then let the water wash the suds down into the cage so it doesn't end up stinking."
He's lecturing me as if I'm a fucking ten-year-old and I'm schooling myself not to look pissed off at what he's done to me. Sure, I knew this was coming but now that it's here I fucking don't like it. I want to break free. I grab it and try to shake it but it juggles my balls, the I start trying to get high. Blocked. Fuck.
I break free of his glance and walk around the room swinging my arms but having no where to go.
"newly caged boys often act like this," says William. "Let him go free for a bit. Meanwhile let's you and I go into the back room and I'll show you the collars."
They both turn around and leave me alone there, seething with frustration. Angry tears are in my eyes and I want to scream out loud but don't dare. I want to escape. I don't fucking want this any more. I'm sorry I ever thought I'd ever want to be some shithead's slave boy. What the fuck am I getting myself into?
I try to squat down and notice what it feels like down below when I do. Everything is different now. I'm a fucking caged slaveboy and I'm fucking pissed off that this is happening to me. The reality is very different than the idea of it all. This is me. This is happening to me, not to some faggot in a porn clip. This is real. There's no getting out of this damn thing. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I try to calm myself down. I can't believe I'm reacting this strongly. I never thought it would affect me the way it is. Shit. Even when I'm totally alone I'm a slave. No pretending I'm not. And when we walk back out into the showroom, everyone will know I've been locked up. A faggot slave. What I thought I wanted. How the fuck am I gonna be able to handle this? How the fuck will i...
William and Master come back into the room holding a few things. I turn my back on them. Throw them some attitude. But that doesn't last well. I didn't notice, but Danny has a strap in his hand. Next thing I know he whips my butt with it. I holler out. He hits me again. And again. I put out my hands to stop him and he hits my hands with the strap. Fuck that hurts!!!!!
"Keep hitting the faggot until it calms down," says William. I bet that fucking pervert William is really getting off on all this. Danny hits me again and I fall to the ground and try to scamper away from him. "Calm the fuck down, Mikey or I'll beat you black and blue like Scott did!"
Finally I get the message. I'm crying like a fucking little boy again. Finally I stop fighting and crawl over to him and wrap my arms around his legs and bury my face in his jeans up by his knees. He drops the strap and puts a hand on my head and runs his fingers through my hair. "Ssshhh SSSShhhhe, baby. You knew this was coming. Be a good boy. Be my good boy. Calm down now. Don't humiliate yourself any more in front of Mr. William here."
He waits patiently for me to calm myself down. "There is peace in submitting," he says to me calmly, "submitting to me as I help you understand what you're meant to be, baby." Now he's using his kind and sweet voice and its tones help me calm down. The pressure of the damn cage on my poor dick never lets up. "I promise you you'll get used to it," he tells me.
Finally I'm breathing normally. I reach up and wipe the tears out of my eyes with one hand while the other hand reaches back and tries to sooth the places where he hit me with that damn strap. What makes all of this even harder to take is that the creep William stands there silently watching the drama taking place between me and the man I'm beginning to think of as my Master.
"Stand up now, Mikey," he says at last and holds down a hand to help me stand. "I've got a present for you. Lower your head a little, boy." He takes something and puts it around my neck, locking it in back. It's not heavy. "Go look in the mirror, boy," he tells me. I go to look and Danny stands behind me with his hands on the sides of my arms. It's a piece of black jewelry, really nice.
William comes near us and speaks to us. "This is becoming quite fashionable with slaveboys who aren't permanently bound to any Master. It's an attractive piece of jewelry, and that's all it looks like to those who aren't aware of the scene. To you both, of course, it's a slave collar, one that the boy can wear all the time no matter where he goes. It won't be questioned by anyone; in fact it will be admired. The lock in the back can be opened only by someone who has the key. In essence, the boy is now collared 24/7 yet allowed to move about freely among those who don't know anything about what it means to be a gay bdsm slaveboy. Incidentally, it can be worn in the shower without being subject to rust or any other kind of damage. It also can be easily broken apart by putting one hand on each side of the neck and pulling strongly."
I get the point. Unless I convince Danny to unlock it and take it off me when I go back to my room this weekend, I can wear it all the time. Even if I'm not owned by Danny or anyone else, I'll know I'm a slave—or at least, that I'm going to become some man's slave one of these days.
All in all, it's far easier to surrender to wearing this collar than to be wearing the fucking cage around my dick. I'll be goddamned that I'll be wearing this all the time now. Fuck. What about the cage? I can't fucking imagine myself being seen in the dorm showers with my dick locked up this way.
On the way home Danny tells me that the collar is a gift from him to me. I protest that it must have cost a lot. "That's my concern, Mikey. I'll unlock it before you go home if you really want me to, but I'm kind of hoping you'll agree to keep wearing it. After all, if you really want to get out of it and I'm not around, William explained how easy it would be to break out of it. But just think about it, Mikey. I'm giving you the chance to begin thinking of yourself as a slave no matter where you go or what you do. See if you can get used to the idea. And if next week you really want me to take it off you, just ask. I'll do it if you want. I'd rather take it off you myself than have you break it apart."
"What about the cage, Sir?" I ask, tearing up again.
"I promise I'll take it off you before you leave, but I'd really like you to sleep with it on tonight. I won't make you wear it home. I know you haven't agreed to anything permanent and that's perfectly okay. But at least wear it when you're with me, okay? Will you please me that way, pup?"
He never called me "pup" before. Why does that sound so hot to me?
"Okay. Yes, Sir," I answer him. He takes his hand and pats me on my bare inner thigh then moves his hand over to toy with the cage he's locked me into. Like I said, I've seen lots of guys locked into cages before, and I realize this cage is really bigger than the ones I've seen on porn sites. Yes, indeed. Just as he promised, Danny's not trying to reduce the size of my dick. After all, it's already small enough. So okay. I'll wear it. I'll surrender to his wishes. Just until tomorrow afternoon. He promised to take it off me before I go back to my dorm. I'll take him up on it, that's for sure. After all, enough is enough. Sure, I'll wear the collar. Actually, I like the idea of wearing a slave collar all the time while most people never realize that's what it is. It's like having a big secret wrapped around my neck. Far better than what's wrapped around my poor little cock right now.
So that's all for now. Hope you like how it's developing. My name's Greg. ogt009966@gmail.com Write me any time, please?
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