Welcome to Collar Fence Chapter 1
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The following is the first part of a wider story concerning a private BDSM community called Collar Fence. I am endeavoring to write a story that is sexy, fun, and respectful to those people who live this lifestyle. If you have questions, comments, concerns or suggestions I welcome them on my twitter @MasterWill93 (where I also write short scenes from Collar Fence, as well as from other settings), or at my gmail Nerdyswitch93@gmail.com. All I require is that you are polite. Without further ado, the first chapter of the story “Welcome to Collar Fence”
Contains: Rimming, watersports, oral sex, deep throating, and semi-public play. Reader discretion and awareness encouraged.
Chapter 1
To Master Richard Malles and household,
It is with great pleasure that W/we at Collar Fence Community inform You that Your application to join O/our community has been accepted. Congratulations!
In two months time You and Your household will be able to formally take up residence in the Community at the enclosed address. Please note: Do not hire movers that would require entrance to the premises as they would not be permitted entry, this is to ensure the privacy and the safety of our residents. Thank You.
Enclosed with Your address is also a contract, Your approved background check and a map of the community as well as directions to get here from the main highway. Please insure that these are seen by no one but You and members of Your household.
Congratulations and W/we all look forward to welcoming You to Collar Fence!
Sincerely,
The Collar Fence Community Council
“Well?” said Mitch from the doorway “What’s it say, Sir?”
Rich tried to compose himself as best he could, if he was ready to burst than Mitch was probably going to fucking implode.
“Is it good news?” Mitch sounded so anxious. Rich took in a deep breath.
“Well,” he tried to come off level and composed, leave his sub guessing at what the letter said, “We aren’t going to be moving to Collar Gate-”
“I knew it, I fucking knew it!” Mitch leaned his forehead against the doorway, his eyes closed in ready surrender to what he feared.
Rich cleared his throat, he didn’t allow Mitch to curse, he expected any sub on his leash to remain well mannered at all times, even in private. It didn’t help that poor Mitch had spent five years in the Navy and regularly seasoned his language with all manner of swearing.
“Sorry, Sir.” Mitch sounded so despondent “I was just really hoping that we’d finally get out of this fu-freaking milquetoast burb. The cook out last week was excruciating.”
“Well, boy,” Rich put emphasis on ‘boy’, it let Mitch know he was on notice “If you had let me finish what I was going to say,” Mitch lifted his head from the doorway, disbelief and understanding both beginning to light up his face
“We aren’t going to Collar Gate until May.” Rich’s face cracked into a wide smile even as he said it. Mitch’s mouth was hanging open, his eyes looking around for...he didn’t know...something...anything! The shout of exuberation burst out of him and even though Richie had already warned him he couldn’t help but start screaming
“FUCK YES! FUCK FUCKING YES!” Over and over and over again. He ran to the window, he was going to scream it to all the bland ass, boring ass, dumb ass, shallow ass white suburbanites that He. Was. Out. Of. Here! Richie caught Mitch by the chain collar around his neck and made him look in his eyes. Mitch, still bubbling with excitement, still had his hands on the window.
“What on Earth do you think you are doing boy?” Mitch realized then that in his excitement he had cursed...a lot. Master Richard didn’t like his boys cursing. Fuck. Mitch took his hands away from the window.
“I was seeing if the window needed cleaning...Sir.”
Mitch was not a good liar, Rich found it endearing. Rich firmly pulled Mitch away from the window and drew him on to his lap, two fingers pulling the collar tight on the back of Mitch’s neck. But Rich’s other hand was firmly on Mitch’s ass.
Mitch had the most excellent ass, honestly it was what had first drawn Rich to him at Pride three years ago, two massive tan spheres trying to devour the thong that was desperately trying to maintain the illusion of modesty. Two weeks after that they became boyfriends, then Master and boy. Rich began to knead the ass, stretching out the already tight jeans Mitch wore. His ass he thought to himself, Mitch just kept it in good condition.
“What’ve I told you about dirty language boy?” Rich whispered, his lips almost touching Mitch’s. Mitch was biting his lip, he really didn’t want to get spanked, not after the good news they just got. Part of him really wanted to explain that he was just so...so excited. But Sir would call that arguing and Mitch would be in more trouble.
“That good boys use good words.” Mitch whispered.
“Mhm. And what else boy?” Richard pressed
“And bad boys who use bad words get punished.” Mitch said it resigned, Richard was a stickler for the rules, but Mitch had agreed to them. The exercise, the cleaning, hell even the chastity wasn’t as hard as the not swearing rule was.
“That’s right boy,” Richard purred. It was nice feeling power over this submissive little himbo, with a change of tone, a well placed hand, Mitch became his little toy, he felt himself getting hard. He already knew that fucking was going to happen tonight, but he was going to build up to it, for his satisfaction and Mitch’s desperate frustration.
“I think instead of spanking your butt I’m going to try something new.” He got up and Mitch slid to the floor, he knew where he belonged when Richard was in the disciplining mood. Richard pulled off his shirt, his soft fuzzy tummy settled comfortably over the top of his jeans, which he worked down, exposing his furry ass, framed deliciously in the jockstrap he’d been wearing while mowing the lawn. He laid down on his stomach and Mitch looked on, confused as to what was happening. Mitch soon found out.
“We are going to clean out your mouth boy,” said Richard “Get your face in my ass. Now.”
Mitch gulped and crawled over “Yes, Sir.” Rich’s ass was big and soft and hot, and when he tentatively opened the cheeks he felt the heat on his face. The musk was so strong, he recognized it from doing the laundry for his Master for years. Slowly he drew his mouth to the impatient ass. The smell filled his mouth so fully that when his tongue began to caress and worship the cheeks and the tight hole inside, he barely tasted anything.
Richard moaned in pleasure. Worshipping ass was far from Mitch’s favorite thing to do, but he had slowly come around to it, but Richard tried to be nice and only demand it every so often and never for very long. This time, he was going to enjoy it for as long as he wanted and his little slut was going to be good and serve him until he said to stop. But this was just the start of their celebration tonight.
“Where are we going boy?” He said, his wide smile obvious from his voice.
“Collar Fence Sir!” came the muffled response, and surprisingly Mitch began to eat Rich’s ass with more gusto than he had ever before.
“Where are we going to live?” Richard closed his eyes as he got the first decent rimjob he had had in ages
“Collar Fence Sir!” Mitch almost sounded like he was back in bootcamp and his tongue was dancing around his Master’s hole. Richard wanted to see what would happen if…
“I said where the fuck are we moving boy?!”
“Collar Fucking Fence SIR!” came the reply, and before Richard could even teasingly reprimand the sub buried in his ass, he felt, with a wave of pleasure, Mitch’s tongue slip into his hole. As Richard closed his eyes to enjoy this worship he could hear, buried behind him
“Collar fucking Fence”
He let it slide, and let Mitch get better acquainted with what Rich had just decided was going to be a new hobby.
___
The next two months dragged on for what seemed forever to Rich and Mitch. Word soon got around the street that the local gay couple was moving out to California. A few neighbors tried to pry out why the couple was moving, after all didn’t both Mitch and Rich work from home? Why move?
Rich handled the excuses. Mitch would have access to more graphic design opportunities if he moved out to California, and Rich, as an editor could work pretty much anywhere, and the climate of California suited him better than that of the American Midwest. This usually satisfied the neighbors' curiosity who said that they were sad to see them go, that they hoped the taxes wouldn’t be too high, and always with emphasis that they could never live out in California.
“Yeah, that’s why we’re going there.” Mitch joked to Rich one evening while they watched RuPaul, Mitcheating his take out at Rich’s feet. Rich only chuckled.
The home sold very quickly, Rich had always been handy and kept it in great condition, and given that the local school system was so good, the crime rate low, and pretty much anything a young yuppie family would look for in a home and neighborhood. The new family was slated to move in the day after the couple moved out.
Finally the day arrived.
At 5a.m. Richard loaded up the rented moving van with their assorted furniture, gadgets, and a very sizable box labeled “TOYS”. Rich would drive the van while Mitch would drive the car. It would be a two day drive, but Mitch hated flying and Rich enjoyed the open road. By 6:30 the house was empty, the cars gassed and they were off before the neighbors had a chance to delay them with long Midwestern good-byes.
West, the rising sun coming up behind them and the open road ahead. Rich listened to some radio but he couldn’t focus, his gut was too excited, and everytime he thought about where they were going his cock began to grow hard and thick in his pants. Too bad Mitch was in the car behind him, he could use that mouth right now.
Collar Space was a very private community, you had to know someone who lived there to even have a shot at being allowed in. The admissions process was intensive and the community had very strict rules to make sure that the outside world had no reason whatsoever to enter beyond its walls. What would you expect from a community where kinksters of all stripes were able to live a full on 24/7 lifestyle, surrounded by others with the same interests?
Rich had heard about it from his old buddy Daniel, who had gotten in four years earlier and raved about it and dropped sly hints about what a perfect life he would have in Collar Fence. Dan was a Master, had been since the 70’s, he had been the one that had brought Rich into the scene when he was in his early twenties, back in Chicago. Damn those were fun times, Dan was a good Master, taught Rich everything he knew. Dan had also been hung, that had certainly made it fun. Rich felt his ass tingle from the memories.
“Rich, kiddo, you are going to love it here.” Dan had told him on the phone “Everybody knows what they’re about, totally open, no shame, no embarrassment. It’s Eden sweetheart, just Eden.” Rich chuckled. When Dan wasn’t in his leathers he could become the biggest queen. But when he was in Master Daniel mode, it had to be “Yes Sir. No, Sir. Three smacks harder, Sir.”
Dan wouldn’t say much more beyond that Rich and Mitch would love it though; the community took no chances. Even the terms and conditions that had come with the acceptance letter had not spelled out the full flavor of community Collar Fence was. There had been a non-disclosure agreement though, and if someone broke it then it outlined severe legal penalties. Residents could not bring in non-approved guests, no photographs ever, no children were allowed on the premises.
There had been a background check and an interview (thanks to the 2020 pandemic Mitch and Rich had theirs over Skype). Mitch had been on his absolute best behavior during the call. They had outlined their contract and rules and expectations, how they would approach certain scenarios, what experience they had and so much more. The interview had gone on for two hours and afterward Mitch was convinced he had bungled it over minor things “I shouldn’t have been looking in the camera! They’re going to see that as disrespectful!” Rich had calmed him down with some ice cream and weed.
The road rolled along. Cornfields mostly, or maybe soy. Flyover country. When they crossed over into Illinois, Rich found himself looking out the right side of the car, out there was Chicago, and all his memories of being a submissive for Dan. He chuckled, chastity cages hadn’t been as huge back then as they were today. But that just meant that he had to have willpower not to jack-off, Dan was strict about that. Even if cages had been more available Dan wouldn’t have gone for them.
“Look kiddo,” Dan still called Rich ‘kiddo’ even though he was almost 35 now, “I get the whole aesthetic thing, but you know me. If they can, but don’t then that says a whole lot more in my opinion.” Rich had nodded, this was when he was thinking of getting Mitch a cage; the cage Mitch had been wearing for a solid week now to keep him eager and excited for the move.
Still on and on they drove. Mitch called him around 10, or maybe 11? Time Zones sucked.
“Sir, I’m getting really hungry, Sir.” came the plaintive voice.
“I told you to get some nuts or jerky when we filled up the car.” Rich said casually, but with a firm tone in his voice. Mitch said he hadn’t wanted any nuts or jerky, that he was too excited. He had asked if he could get some soda. Rich had said no. Mitch was allowed to get a medium black coffee, a lightly sweetened tea, and a pack of water, Rich wanted to keep the stops to a minimum.
“Please Sir, the gas station coffee is upsetting my tummy.” Mitch was putting on his “pwetty pwease daddy” voice, which Rich didn’t think was totally fair, it always undermined his willpower to be a firm Master. Richard thought for a moment. A sign saying “REST STOP 5 MILES AHEAD” zoomed past.
“Alright boy, here’s what's going to happen.” He said, adopting a tone of voice that made Mitch’s locked nub begin to strain, “There is a rest stop five miles ahead. We are going to stop there. You are going to go into the bathroom and wait for me there. Afterwards we will discuss getting you something to eat.”
“Yes, Sir.” came the breathless reply over the phone.
___
The rest stop was empty, a big map of Illinois showed that they had made good time, and hopefully before they stopped for the night they’d be in Nebraska. Rich looked over the map, not because it particularly interested him, but to make Mitch sweat. Right now the little slut was undressing and kneeling in a stall, door open.
His own cock, having been neglected all morning from the rush to load the van and car was aching with impatience. And he didn’t want to waste too much time, even though the idea of that little jock kneeling naked and exposed was making him smile.
His footsteps echoed in the bathroom. Cleaner than what he had expected for a rest stop shitter. Little blessings. On the far end a stall door was conspicuously wide open. Rich walked slowly to the stall, and there, on his knees wearing only the chain link collar he always wore, clothes carefully folded (as he had been taught) was Mitch. His caged nub stuck out amusingly from the smooth plain below his navel. Rich looked him in the eye, and Mitch’s face turned a deep red.
“So I thought you weren’t going to want breakfast today boy.” His hands were unbuttoning his pants as he spoke
“I’m sorry Sir.” came Mitch’s quiet response.
“Now what were the two options I offered you?” Rich’s pants were on the floor now, a dark stain of precum was wetting the front of his underwear.
“Nuts or jerky, Sir.” whispered Mitch, licking his lips.
“Well boy, we’ve been driving for almost five hours now, and I want some things taken care of before I fix this mess you made for yourself.” his cock was out now, rock hard, the head a glistening cherry. “Open your mouth, slut.”
Obediently Mitch opened his mouth wide, and caught the long stream of piss that came from Rich’s cock. Some of it landed in his mouth, but Rich wasn’t going for a clean job. This stubborn slut was going to learn a lesson about not following orders when given. The yellow stream hit Mitch’s face, his chest and arms as well, what landed in his mouth he diligently swallowed. Rich had to hand it to him, the piss was mostly coffee and had a strong smell to it.
Slowly the stream died down and the last few drops fell mockingly on Mitch’s locked cock. But Rich wasn’t done yet, not by a long shot.
“Alright bitch, since you were too good for the gas station nuts and jerky you’re getting mine.” And with half a step his cock was in Mitch’s face. Mitch began to lick and suck and slobber over the member, especially around where the head met the shaft, and the angle where the shaft connected with the sack. Rich began to moan. His little slave knew all the sweet spots, electricity was pulsing from his cock, through his legs, making his ass clench in pleasure. Then instinctively his hand shot out, grabbed Mitch’s black hair and pulled him all the way down until his nose was buried in his Master’s pubes. Once Rich’s cock felt the familiar warmth and softness of the back of Mitch’s throat he began to cum.
Mitch held on for dear life. When Rich was cumming like this all he could do was just remember to breathe through his nose (easy when Rich smelled so musky), and hold on. Mitch grasped Rich’s ass and massaged it, and Rich gave a guttural groan. After twenty or thirty seconds Rich had squirted out all he had and eased out of Mitch’s throat, but kept his cock in Mitch’s mouth, where Mitch’s tongue coaxed out any remaining drops from the softening member.
Rich took a deep breath, and in the back of his mind was grateful the restroom wasn’t filthy. He just stood there, enjoying himself. At last he had to remember the schedule, Mitch would’ve stayed there all day if he could have. Rich pulled himself out of Mitch’s mouth and began to pull up his pants.
“When I have left you will get dressed. We are not stopping until three for lunch. I will get you something to eat while you get dressed. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir.” Mitch still sounded breathless. Honestly, Rich’s “taste” had gotten a lot stronger over the last couple weeks, he’d cum a lot more, and a lot more thickly, and Mitch was really beginning to enjoy the feeling it left in his mouth and throat (and his ass, he thought longingly, hoping Rich would be up to unloading again in the hotel room). Rich tousled Mitch’s hair and gave the padlock on his collar an affectionate tug and left the restroom.
___
Another car was pulling into the parking lot while Richard looked over the options in the vending machine. He got a pack of chips and a snickers bar for himself, and a large bag of fruit snacks and pretzels for Mitch, unsweet tea for both of them. He paused. There were twinkies at the bottom of the machine, with all the other expensive cakes. $2.50 for a two pack. Mitch did love twinkies…
As he walked over to the car a fat tubby man, a frazzled looking wife and two kids, making a comic over showing of the “gotta pee now” dance were standing by a big red SUV. The dad (presumably) was barking some kind of instructions and the kids zipped past Rich as soon as the red faced man had stopped talking.
“Sorry Mister.” the man said, “Been on the road for hours, know what I mean?” Rich smiled politely
‘Oh it’s fine I totally get it.” He walked over to the car to put Mitch’s snacks on the seat to wait for him. The man however kept talking.
“Where ya headed?” The man seemed to feel he owed Rich polite conversation, or maybe he was just desperate to have an interaction with someone other than his family.
“Oh out to California.”
Where are you boy? Mitch had better hurry his tight little ass up and save him from chatting with this guy. Rich hated small talk, it drove him insane. It was like being held verbally hostage from being polite. He inched towards the moving van.
“Oh California! I never been. Family and I here are headed out to Gatlinburg for a week, we love it out there.”
At that moment running out of the rest stop came Mitch, thank god.
“Ready to go?” Rich asked, trying not to sound too eager. Mitch took a look at the sweating guy leaning on the hood of the SUV and grasped the situation immediately.
“Yessir! Let’s hit the road!” He passed the guy to get into the car.
“Aw geez guy!” The man held his hand over his nose “Take my advice and put some deodorant in your car, you smell like you’ve been hauling mulch all day!”
Mitch froze a smile on his face.
“Yeah, sorry about that, we’ve been driving since six this morning. Thanks for letting me know!”
“Also,” the guy went on, hand still over his nose “XYZPDQ” and nodded towards Mitch’s pants.
Mitch kept smiling. “I’m flattered, you noticed.” And with that he got into the car, Rich got into the van and they hurriedly left the rest stop before the man could start on some new topic.
Some miles later, after laughing to himself over the confused expression of the guy in the parking lot at Mitch’s comments, he remembered his surprise for Mitch. He rang him up.
“Oh hey there buddy!” he said putting on a thick Minnesotan accent “I hope cha got some deodorant in ya cawr there! Wouldn’t want to scare the roadkill witcha stink dontcha know?”
Mitch put on his most camp, flamboyant voice “I shall have you know that my Sir’s piss is considered to be the highest quality boy cologne this season! I never go out without it on! Uncultured philistine! Swine! If you read any magazine beyond Redneck Sister Brides you’d know this!”
They both laughed at that. Mitch had been born out in West Virginia and never missed an opportunity to vent some spleen on the kind of people that had made his life hell. Rich put his Minnesota voice away.
“Well if anyone here is a pig it's you, boy.” he said, a wink in his voice
“All your fault Sir, I was a good navy boy before you corrupted me.” they chuckled again.
“Well, piggy I’ve hid a truffle in your car if you can sniff it out.”
“What do you mean?” Mitch was confused but caught himself “Sir?”
“Look and you’ll find out. Love you!” and Rich hung up, listening to the soft voices of the NPR hosts talking about some farm that was sending kale to Bangladesh or something.
He drove on but caught something in his side mirror. Waving from the opened window was Mitch’s hand, holding the two pack of twinkies. Rich laughed and gave a thumbs up. If Mitch was shouting anything it was being blown away by the speed of the highway.
“Good piggy.” Rich said to himself, and settled into the seat looking out over the long ribbon of road that was leading them home.