City Analyst to Naked Property ( by andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

Chapter 1

I leant back on the soft pillow and closed my eyes.  She was a good fuck all right !  She had gone downstairs to get me an ashtray and a beer after I pounded her pussy well and proper.  As I looked around her apartment, I sighed in contentment and pushed the sheets down my body.  I ran my hand down my chest and looked down my chiselled body, running my hands over my abs and deflating cock.  Another one-night-conquest to describe in detail to my mates in the pub on Monday.

Master of the universe.  Life is good for me.  A 25 year old city analyst, I am making my way slowly but surely up my profession.  At school my potential was recognised early, and I sailed through my qualifications to be top of my class at Oxford.  I now enjoy the luxurious lifestyle of a successful young playboy.  City centre flat, sports car, girls coming at me from every direction, and my team mates on the football team giving me a great social life as I party my way through every weekend.  As their captain and leader, I often decide on when and where we will have our big nights out.  Football guys on tour !!

My looks and my top-of-the-range gear mean that, when I am out clubbing like tonight, the women drip from my arms and I can have my pick of them.  But tonight I have pulled a real cracker.  Top drawer.  My mates were pretty impressed when this fucking beauty turned up and I have had no problem shagging her senseless for the past few hours.  And – as if that isn’t enough – she’s gone downstairs to pamper to my every need.

After a short while, she appeared at the door with a glass of water and ran a finger delicately down my face.  With one large gulp, I downed the water and sat up to get a look at her sexy body.  Slowly, I pulled the cover away and patted the bed.

As she moved towards me, my head lolled backwards, and my vision blurred.  I slipped quickly into unconsciousness. 

…..

When I came around, the sun streamed in through the window, curtains open.  My head pounded – no doubt from a mixture of alcohol and the drug from the water – and my eyes hurt from the bright sunshine.  I tried to raise my head and look at where I was and I became aware of my situation immediately.  I was tied on the bed, my legs and arms spread to the corner where they were cuffed in leather cuffs to the corners of the bed.  The sheet had been removed and I wore only my tight CKs.

“What the fuck …?” I murmured, then began to shout.  “Hey ! Help ! Help ! Let me free” as I struggled vainly against the bonds on my outstretched limbs.

I could hear footsteps approaching the room, before the door burst open and my “great fuck” entered the room.  She smiled at me, and moved towards me.  “What the hell is going on here?” I began, before I stared in horror at the door behind her.  Entering the room behind her was a large, muscular man dressed in a tight sleeveless top.  He stopped at the door and grinned at me.

“Hello Gary!” he smiled, before moving towards me.  “Nice to see you are all tied up and no doubt pleased to see me.”

I could not speak as I stared at him.  Lewis McGuire.  My arch nemesis at work.  The guy who loved to hate me.  The guy who tried to thwart my career at every turn, and yet had still been passed over for promotion, the directors choosing my career progression over his.  Of all the people to see me like this, he was the one I would have least liked.  I felt my face burn with humiliation as he stood over me.

His smile disappeared and he turned towards the girl.  With a monotonous tone, he stated “Thanks Jen.  I’ve left your money on the hall table.  Not sure I will need you again, but your co-operation has been much appreciated.  You will see I have left you a healthy tip as I promised.”

“Right, thanks then Mr McGuire,” she replied.  She turned towards me and smiled.  “Bye,” she whispered.  “Pity.  You were a good fuck.”  And without a backwards glance she turned and left the room.

After seeing her out, he returned into the room and closed the door behind him.  He stood over me and looked into my eyes.

“Look, Lewis, what the fuck is going on here? Let me go,” I shouted.

He stared at me.  “Shhhhh.  Shhhh.  Be quiet if you know whats good for you, you piece of shit.  Not quite so smug and self confident now you are spread out in your undies for me are you?”

I felt my heart flutter as I realised that he held the upper hand here.  I could not move and I was spread in an extremely humiliating position.  I felt my bottom lip shudder, either in cold or fear.  I was not sure which.  And I held my breath in horror as I watched him drag his hand down my pecs, over my abs and hold it over my package.

“Gotcha!” he snarled and laughed aloud.  “Welcome to my flat Mr High and Mighty.  Surprised you didn’t notice it isn’t very girly.  Guess you were just focusing on your cheap fuck eh ?  Well, it may not have been worth your trouble.  I suggest you watch the following video very carefully boy.”

With the press of a switch, I watched in horrified fascination as the curtains closed and a projector screen came down from the ceiling.  As the light dimmed, the image of a young girl came onto the screen.  She was dressed in teenage clothes and looked afraid at the camera.  It was only then that I realised it was Jen.  The girl I had fucked last night.  “Please Gary Sir,” she pleaded.  “Please don’t make me do it.”  I watched a five minute scene that showed a clever mix of shots.  Shots from our real fucking session, clearly showing me pounding her hard and other shots mixed in that revealed her as a young schoolgirl who was submitting to my orders.  If I had not spent the night with her, I would have believed that I had just raped a teenage schoolgirl and that she had been an unwilling participant.  It had cleverly been mixed to reveal a rape that I had not committed.

The show ended.  I stared at the blank screen and tried to comprehend what I had just seen.

Lewis smiled.  “Now you and I know that Jen is not quite as innocent as she seems there boy.  But I doubt that the directors at work would see it that way if I forwarded them a copy.  Or what about a copy playing on that new TV system you installed at the football club ?  What about dear old Sheila and John who I met at that party last week … they were telling me how proud they were of their high and mighty son.  They even told me where they lived.  Could you really allow all of those people to watch you fucking a schoolgirl?”

“Why?  Why are you doing this? You wouldn’t do that to me would you?”

“Of course I would.  I would take delight in doing it.  Its about time you came down a peg or two.  Always the golden boy.  Always the favourite.  Mr Heroic Hunk UK.  I am sick of it.”

I gulped in horror as I realised that he really did hate me, and I had no hesitation in knowing that he would forward the video.  He had clearly already gone to a great deal of trouble in setting this whole scenario up and I was helpless to resist, tied up semi-naked before him.

“In a minute I am going to untie you and let you leave.  Don’t even think about trying to do anything to me.  I have left parcels ready to be delivered in case anything stops me from intercepting them in an hour’s time.  You need to get dressed and leave here.  And then I am giving you 24 hours’ notice boy.”

I stared open-mouthed at him.  His words sinking into my brain seemed surreal.  Detached.  This could not be happening to me.  I felt his fingers caressing against my balls.

“I have you by the balls boy.  You do as I say, or you face the consequences.  Go to the police if you think you can.  Let them look at the video.  But in the meantime, it will have been forwarded before they get to speak to me.  I promise that.”

He looked into my eyes and seemed to drink in my fear.

“Or your other option is to submit to me.  I want you.  I want to change you for the better.  I want to control your life.  If you submit to me, I will keep the videos to myself in a safe place.  No-one need ever know.  And you get to keep your life as it is, with a few adjustments.”

I looked at him and felt my head nodding slowly as I realised that I had no choice.  I didn’t understand what he was talking about, but I knew I had no choice. 

“Return here in 24 hours boy.  10am tomorrow morning.  I want you dressed in your smartest work suit and ready to submit to me.  Understand?”

I nodded and tried to speak, but no noise came from my mouth.  He chuckled and started to undo my limbs.  Without a word, I gathered my clothing from the floor and dressed quickly.  Pausing only at the door to register his apartment number, I fled his apartment and started to run back to my own apartment. 

I ran through the rain, my shirt soaking as I did so.  What was happening to me?  What did Lewis want from me?  Dazed and alarmed, I ran onwards through the rain.

Chapter 2

Needless to say I didn’t sleep well that night as I contemplated what Lewis meant.  He wanted me to submit, and he wanted to control me.  I didn’t understand what this could mean, but I knew that it would not be a pleasant experience.  Clearly, Lewis intended that I would suffer and I began to mentally prepare myself for the climbdown that I knew would be inevitable.  He wanted to reduce my influence.  I had to accept that this could be very awkward and that I was going to have to allow him some form of control over me.  Maybe he would make me help him with a promotion at work, or make me carry out some home repairs for him.  Naively, I couldn’t see what else I could do for him.

And yet as I walked reluctantly, nervously, towards his apartment, I felt certain that I could convince him that this was not the answer.  Trying to blackmail me was not fair, particularly when I had actually done nothing wrong.  I had contemplated calling the police but it seemed that this could only have a devastating effect on my own reputation.  People would inevitably believe what came out, and my clean living reputation would be besmirched.  I did not want this.  A little humble pie before Lewis would be a small price to pay to prevent my reputation being destroyed.

I got into the elevator and adjusted my best tie in the mirror.  Taking in my gelled hair and chiselled jawline, I admired my reflection.  In my sharp suit, polished shoes and expensive clothing I looked every image the successful young businessman and jock boy, and I contemplated my evening at the gym later.  I had already cancelled my afternoon out with Anna, my girlfriend.  We were supposed to be going out for a drive and lunch at my private golf club.  I had made up some excuse about needing to do some work and convinced her to stay away from my apartment.

I hesitated for a second and looked at my watch.  10.06.  I took a deep breath and knocked confidently on Lewis’s door.

Nothing happened.

I waited for a while.  Maybe this was a joke.  I sighed and knocked again.

I heard footsteps instead.  Shit, he was home.  He opened the door and looked me up and down.  Without a hint of emotion, he nodded and stated firmly “IN”.

I walked into the apartment and stood hesitantly as he closed the door.  He walked into his living room and I followed behind him.  Without a word, he proceeded to a large armchair and sat down.  Without a word, he looked me up and down.

I felt uncomfortable.  I wasn’t sure what to do or say.  He sat there and stared at me.

Finally, to break the silence, I ventured “Look Lewis, what’s this all about ? I really …”

“Shut up,” he stated.  Calmly yet with total authority.

I felt so awkward, stood before him like a naughty schoolboy as he sat and stared at me.  I have never had a problem with confidence and yet I squirmed under the pressure of the situation.  With a sideways glance, I moved towards the settee and sat down to escape his gaze.

“Who told you to sit?” he barked, with an icy stare.  And, obediently, I rose to my feet and stood in front of him again.

I waited for a minute before again breaking the deathly silence.  “Look, I know you don’t like me.  Tell me what you want and I’ll do my best to help you man.  I have nothing against you, honestly.  I will try my best to work with you on whatever you want.  Is it money ? Is it help at work ?”

He sat before me and a smile crept across his stony face.

“You haven’t worked it out yet boy, have you?”

“No Lewis.  What do you want?”

“I think we both accept that you are in the shit boy.  You have fucked up badly in raping that innocent schoolgirl and I can wreck your life with three easy parcels.  Agreed?”

“Yes”

“Good.  Well what I want is very simple boy.  I want you boy.  I want to own you.  I want to be your Master, and you will be my slaveboy.  That’s what I want.  And if I don’t get exactly what I want, then your rape story goes through this town faster than you can blink.”

Standing before him, I looked down at him and didn’t know what to say.  I couldn’t understand what he was talking about.  Slavery?  Slavery didn’t exist.  How could I be his slave?  This was 2008, not the 17th century.  I had never even thought about slavery, let alone considered myself as a slave.  I was an educated, good looking, successful, popular jock.  It was an impossible concept to think of being a slave.

“What do you mean, be your slave?  I don’t understand Lewis.”

“Exactly what I said boy.  I will own you.  You will be my personal property, and I will control your life completely.  I will own your body and your mind.  You will have no free choice from now on.  Every decision about you is now mine.  You simply obey my instructions.”

I squirmed under his unending gaze into my eyes.  I looked up at the ceiling and raised my arm to wipe away the sweat forming on my brow.

“And if you try to disobey me.  If you try to rebel against what I do with you, you will be punished.  The ultimate punishment will be for me to reveal our little secret.  Do you understand me boy?”

What could I do? I still couldn’t comprehend how this would work, but the oppressive atmosphere in the room told me that this was no joke.  I looked down at my feet and then up at his face.  “Look, Lewis, this doesn’t make any sense man.  Please, why are you doing this?”

“As far as you are concerned boy, my name is Master.  You refer to me as Master from now on.  Understand?”

The pause hung in the air for a few seconds.  My mind swam in confusion, and I could feel beads of sweat on my brow and under my arms.  I had no choice.  I would need to see what he had planned.

“Yes”

He looked at me and raised his eyebrows.  “Don’t make me punish you slave.”

And thus began my humiliation, as – defeated – I sobbed “Yes …. Master.”

Chapter 3

“Well, we had better get started boy.  Kneel.”

I looked at him blankly.  Stood before him, dressed in my expensive suit, I felt such an idiot calling my work colleague Master.  It felt wrong, immoral.  A ridiculous game that was pointless and yet still demeaning.  And now he appeared to be asking me to kneel.  I waited for a further command, but he just looked at me.

Slowly, unsure of where this was going, I knelt down before him.  I was his superior in every way, and yet I knelt before him on command and felt my manhood begin to diminish.

He leaned forward in his chair and looked me up and down.  Suddenly, without warning, his hand shot out and smacked me hard across the face.  I reeled backwards in shock but he grabbed me by my hair.  My so carefully coifed and gelled hair was pulled up by his fist and I knelt awkwardly, my face pulled next to his.

He whispered into my ear, a low menacing growl.  “I am getting tired of you already boy.  When I give you a command, you obey me instantly.  You need to learn that quickly slave boy.  Understand?”

“Yes, please let my …” I stammered, before he pulled my hair up sharply and smacked me again across the jaw.

“Yes MASTER, slaveboy.  Yes MASTER when you speak to me.”

“Yes Master,” I stuttered, my jaw aching from his blow.  I could easily have overpowered him, my muscular athletic frame massively stronger than his average build.  And yet I submitted.  I knew I had no choice.

He released my hair and I slumped defeated before him.  Once again, the silence hung in the air, and I bowed my head and looked at the floor.  I could feel tears stinging the corner of my eyes at this ridiculous situation. 

The silence was broken by his voice.  “Well look at you.  All  dressed up in your fancy suit,” he said, as he ran his fingers down the front of my suit.  “And I am here dressed casually.  Doesn’t seem to reflect our new status does it?”  He paused and let his words sink in before he continued.  “Slaves don’t wear suits boy.  The clothing of a slave should reflect its status.  You have lost the right to privacy in my presence.  Suits are for men of significance.  Better take it off boy.  Show me my new property how it should be displayed before me.”

Despite the fact that my brain screamed no, my instinct started to move my hands and I obeyed his demeaning words.  My hesitation was only momentary now.  I did as I was told, and started to fumble with my suit jacket buttons.  Carefully, I removed my expensive Italian jacket and laid it down beside me.  Looking at his face and waiting for any further instructions – instructions that did not come – I undid the laces of my leather shoes and removed them, then undid my belt and pulled down my suit trousers.  I placed them carefully on top of my jacket and knelt there in my socks, shirt, tie and underwear.

“Socks boy,” he snarled and I quickly unpeeled my silk socks to kneel there barefooted, my mind reeling at this so obvious change in my status.  Surely enough, he followed with the simple words “tie” and “shirt” and I began to feel my total exposure and vulnerability to him.

I knelt there in my underwear.  The second time in 24 hours that he had seen me this way.  But it would be worse this time and I waited breathlessly for a final command that was inevitable.  “Get them off boy.”

I looked up at him.  “Please, why are you doing this?”

He raised his hand and I squealed “Sorry Master” before the hand clouted my face.  With quivering lip and hating myself for my pathetic submission, I grabbed the band of my designer underwear and slowly pulled down them down my legs and over my ankles to kneel naked before him, underpants in hand.  He held out his hand and obediently I handed over my only scrap of clothing to him.

Wordlessly, he reached behind me and produced a dustbin liner.  Wordlessly, he grabbed my clothes and threw them into the liner.  Wordlessly, he pointed at my Swiss designer watch and added it to the dustbin liner before tying up the bag.

I could not speak nor look at him.  I could feel my legs shaking, and my face reddening.  I knelt there naked and felt more humble and exposed than I have ever felt in my life.  I looked down at my bare chest and groin, my legs spread out and displaying my cock and balls hanging exposed between my bare legs.  This guy was making me do things I could not comprehend and I knew that this could only be the beginning.

“Stand up boy” he stated.  With shaking legs, I rose and stood before him.  I followed his instructions and placed my hands on my head.  I spread my legs as instructed as he left the room.

He left me there, spread naked, for a few minutes before he returned.  A few minutes of torture in which a single tear escaped my eye and ran desperately down my cheek.  It is difficult for me to describe the emotions churning inside me as I stood there naked.  What was happening to me ?  Why was I submitting like this?  What did he want with me?  I could not begin to comprehend my new status.

I heard him come behind me.  I closed my eyes as I felt his hand brush down my spine and enter the crack between my cheeks.  I whimpered as I felt him stand in front of me and run his hands down my chest, my abs and down to my genitals.  He lifted my cock and stroked it, before cupping my balls in his hands.

“Your smart suit is in the dustbin slave.”

I opened my eyes and looked at him.  I opened my mouth to protest, then closed it again in recognition that he held all the aces. 

“ From now on, you will appear before me naked.  Always naked.  You are my property now boy, and there will be big changes in your lifestyle.  You had better get used to it.  Nakedness is your natural state from now on.  I own you and I want to see your exposed flesh at all times.”

He took my chin in his hand and brought my gaze into his eyes.  My cockiness and feelings of superiority over him had disappeared, and were extinguished as he growled

“I am your Master boy.  Your days of big shot city analyst are over.  Welcome to slavery my naked property.  Welcome to your new life.”

Chapter 4

“So let’s get some things straight boy.  I own you completely boy, and you will obey me instantly from now on.  Your body and your mind belong to me, and I will be changing you little by little over the coming weeks and months to adjust you to my requirements.  I may one day give you your freedom back.  But that’s for me to decide.  Don’t ask me for it, or assume it will happen.  Don’t try to test me or try to get out of this in any way or you know what will happen.  And don’t try to get out of doing what I say or you will be punished.  Do we understand each other yet boy?”

I stood there, naked in tears, and listened.  I looked down at my nude body and contemplated the fact that my clothing had been removed from me.  How on earth did this happen to me? Yesterday I had the world at my feet and now I didn’t even have a stitch of clothing on me, stood before a guy who was outlining my future as his slave.

“Yes Master,” I whispered, my toes curling in embarrassment at the submissive pose I adopted.  The contrast between his clothed person and my humble nudity struck home to me as I noticed his fashionable jeans and boots.

“At work tomorrow, you will adopt a submissive nature to me at all times.  You will call me MASTER whenever possible, or SIR when in the hearing of others at work.”

“No, come on, I cant do that.  How can I do that at work?” I pleaded, looking up into his fixed face.  Almost instantaneously, I screamed and  fell to the floor in agony.  I heaved a dry sob of agony and clutched my groin.  Callously, he had kneed me with full force in my balls.  And as I lay there in agony, his boots came closer to my open mouth.  Before I knew anything about it, his boot pressed down on my neck and I sprawled in an undignified naked mess on the floor.

“You don’t fucking get it slave.  I don’t care how much you don’t want to do something, or how much it hurts you or embarrasses you.  You are my fucking slave and you do as you are told. ALWAYS. No matter how much you don’t want to do it.”

I choked as I felt the pressure of his boot on my neck.  “Yes Sir, please …” I shouted.

He laughed and pushed down before moving his boot aside.  With one quick motion I sprang to my feet and squared up to him.  “You bastard Lewis.  You cant do this to me.  I am going to the police.  FUCK YOU!” I spat in his face.

I ran naked across the room, feeling my exposed genitals slapping against my knees and burning in fury and embarrassment as I headed for the door.

It was five minutes later when I re-entered the room to face Lewis.  He was sat in his chair reading something.  I moved towards him and wiped the tears from my face.

“Lewis, please may I talk to you?” I murmured, kneeling on the floor in front of him.

He looked up and stared at me, raising an eyebrow in indignation at me.  Once again I considered how pathetic I must have looked kneeling naked before him.  “Lewis …. Master …. Please ?”

“You’ve got 30 seconds.”

“Please don’t do this to me.  I don’t understand why you want to do this to me.  I will carry out your orders and give you money.  Give you whatever I own.  I will serve you whenever I can, but please don’t humiliate me in public like that.  Let me be your personal servant, but please.  People will notice.”

Lewis sat up in his chair and reached out his hand.  He moved his hand across my head and brushed my fringe to one side, then reached down my face and traced the tracks of my tears.  And then he leaned forward and moved down to my genitals.  With a gentle but firm hold, he grasped my cock and balls in his fist.

“You ran away from me.  Did it take you to get to the door before your temper calmed enough to realise you were stark naked boy ?”

I hung my head in shame.

“Well realise this.  You are not here to be my personal slaveboy on your terms.  You will serve me always on MY terms.  You will know every second of every day that you are owned property.  You think you are struggling at the moment, you have no idea what I have in store for you.  I will control every aspect of your life.  EVERY ASPECT.  I will humiliate you everywhere.  It is what you need to learn your place as my bitch boy.  Do you understand?”

“Yes Master,” I whispered in defeat.  I couldn’t comprehend his hatred for me.  Why would any sane person want to enslave me like this?  I had no understanding of why he would do this to me.

“Now slave, you will listen and not interrupt.  Interrupt me and I throw you out naked onto the street and send these videos.  Do you understand?”

“Yes Master.”

“Now, as I was saying, before you attempted to intervene, tomorrow at work you will refer to me at all times with the utmost respect.  MASTER when alone, or SIR when others are present.  If, at any time, I click my fingers then you will meet me in the toilet.  No questions, no delay.  Understand me so far slave?”

“Yes Master,” I stammered, my mind buzzing with thoughts of how humiliating this new situation would be at work.  And puzzled at why I would meet him in the toilet.

“That’s better.  See, you are learning your place now,” he sniggered as he stood and ruffled my hair like his pet dog.  “Now, there are two more things I want you to do before you arrive at work tomorrow morning.  I will be able to see instantly if you have completed one of your tasks, and you had better do the other one.  It is still morning so you have plenty of time to complete both tasks.”

He moved behind me and dropped a small bag into my hands.  “I want you looking more like my slave,” he stated in that matter-of-fact tone.  “The hair needs to go boy.  I want your head shaved to stubble.  All of it off.  I’d do it myself but I want to join the others at work in their shock at your transformation tomorrow.”

I reeled.  My beautiful hair? Shaved off to stubble.  How could I explain that at work? How could I explain that to my friends, family? To Anna?  “But…” I began.

He raised his arm and I cowered, simpering “Sorry Master”.  I could feel my vision blurring and I felt faint.  This was all too much.

“You will struggle to get an even cut alone with those clippers slave.  Better get someone else to help you do it.”

I shook my head in shock.

“And I warn you now, don’t dare turn up without it done.  The consequences for you will be very, very severe if you do.  Understand?”

“Yes ……………… Master” I managed.

“Now finally, and I don’t mind which of your two tasks you do first today, you will ring the gorgeous Anna today.  I don’t think it is fair that she is dating a slave.  You will have loyalty to me only now, and she deserves to date a real man.  I also wonder how horrified she would be if she saw the pics of who her supposed boyfriend fucks behind her back.  You will ring her and you will finish your relationship.”

“No, no, no….” I whimpered, a rising note of hysteria in my voice shocking myself as I knelt there naked.  I grabbed his leg and slid down it to rest at his expensive shoes.  Naked.  Defeated.  Enslaved.

“Oh be quiet.  We both know you will do as I say so stop the self pity.  It will happen today.  There will be many more things to come over the coming days so get used to it.  I don’t care what you tell her, just do it.  Now, we need to find something more suitable for you to wear for your journey home.”

He left me there naked and alone on the floor.  My life was being ruined and I had done nothing to deserve it.  Three simple steps over the next 24 hours would ensure that I was becoming what he wanted me to be.  I was losing my status and my normality as a successful jock.  And I had no choice other than to obey.

After giving him my home telephone number and mobile number, I managed to beg for my apartment keys to be returned, but he kept my car keys.  He said that slaves had no need for cars and that I would walk anywhere from now on to keep my body in shape for him.

And so it was that I left his house wearing a tight fitting sleeveless top that accentuated my chest muscles and my bulging biceps, but left my stomach exposed, and a pair of tight white shorts that left little to the imagination.  No underwear and barefooted.

It was early afternoon on a Sunday.  As my bare feet pounded the streets and I ran as fast as I could, I prayed that no-one I knew would see me like this, in this ridiculous, almost-pornographic suit.  All eyes seemed to be on me as I ran through the streets.  A group of teenagers laughed out loud as I passed them, their whistles and catcalls making me crimson in embarrassment as I dared not look back.

Finally, I arrived home and closed the door behind me.  I sank to the floor and held my head in my hands in despair.  What had become of me?  Where was my manhood? Why was I letting him do this to me?  I felt sick to the pit of the stomach and yet my mind continued to remind me that I had no choice.  Maybe, he would grow sick of his torments soon.

It seemed unlikely though as I lay defeated on the floor.  I had two imminent acts to commit that would change me forever, and they needed to be done today.  The sound of my mobile phone on the kitchen table roused me and I moved to see who was texting me.

“I forgot to say slave.  From now on you wear no underwear.  Ever.  I will check you at work tomorrow.  MASTER.”

I was safe nowhere from his orders.

Chapter 5

After changing into some normal, decent clothing (  including underwear, fuck him ! he would never know ) I spent an hour or so procrastinating, crashed in front of the TV watching football.  For a short while, I could forget about what was happening to me, and pretend to be normal again as I watched some sport on TV.  For a short while, I was still a free jock boy with a free future ahead of me and I could forget about Lewis’s threats about what would happen to me.

I was brought back into reality with my mobile phone ringing.  For a moment, I thought it would be Lewis, but was relieved to see that it was my football buddy Ben.  He informed me that the guys at football were all waiting to hear my fuck story from the other night at the club.  Normally, I would join him in his banter and look forward to being the centre of attention at the pub tomorrow night as I proclaimed what a stud I was to my mates.  But my mind was confused in my state as it was, and I tried to contemplate turning up to football with a shaved head.  It was unthinkable.  My good looks and immaculate image would look ridiculous with a stubble shaved head.  I mumbled to Ben that I was busy at work, and didn’t know if I would be at football practice this week.  I finished the conversation as quickly as possible and buried my head in my hands.  How could I return to football with a shaved head?

It was time to do something about my predicament.  I needed to get this sorted once and for all, and I needed to do it now.  I picked up the phone and dialled the number.

The conversation with Anna started well – our usual banter – and then, clumsily and awkwardly – I told her that I needed some time to sort my head out and that I wanted our relationship to end.  There was shocked silence, there was anger and there were tears and I simply cried along.  I could offer no realistic reason and was forced to just tell her I needed a fresh start.  I simply sat there on the floor and asked her forgiveness then hung up. 

My life was turning into a nightmare, and I sat there and cried.  What was happening to me ? I was a manly jockboy and yet I was crying.  I was giving my life away to serve Lewis, my Master who was exerting his newfound domination over me.  I lay and tried to think of a way to get out of the situation, and yet the shocking video of me fucking the “schoolgirl” reminded me over and over again that I was ensnared, trapped, enslaved.

As afternoon turned into evening, I opened the package that Lewis had given me.  Inside was a pair of electric hair clippers.  I toyed with them in my hands and ran my hands through my hair.  Could I really go through with this ?  It all seemed so completely pointless, to remove my hair with the sole aim of ridiculing and humiliating me.  It was just so unfair to do this to me.  My expensive hairstyle suited me, and defined my position in life.  How could I even contemplate going to work or football with a stubbled head ?

I toyed with the clippers over and over again.  Trying to get some divine intervention to prevent this.  But it did not come.  No one could rescue me from my continuing humiliation.  And so reluctantly, desperately, with tears welling in my eyes, I rang the front desk of the apartment buildings.  My apartment was based in the trendiest part of town, and contained all of the facilities demanded of top city executives such as myself.  I called the front desk and spoke to George, an older negro guy who I had known since I moved in and who was general assistant for the residents in any matters of help that we needed.  He was kind of a dogsbody and although I had always liked him, I had always looked down on him.  I asked him to come up to my apartment, and contemplated the fact internally that George was from now on far superior to me.  He was not an owned slaveboy like me.

“Evening Mr Walker Sir,” chirped George as I ushered him into my apartment.  “What can George do for you Sir?”

“Er thanks George.  I got a kinda unusual request for you George.”

“Oh you know me Sir, anything I can do to help.”

“Well its just that I ….. “ I hesitated and closed my eyes, willing the words that I did not want to say to escape my mouth.  “I am doing something for charity George and I wondered if you would help me.  You see, I need to use these clippers and shave my hair off.  All of it, just need it to be shaved down to a stubble all over.  Could you do it for me George.”

I sat barechested and barefoot in the kitchen, wearing only my football shorts as George removed my hair.  His raised eyebrows had made me redden, but he went about his task silently and diligently.  Despite my best efforts, I was shaking with embarrassment as I watched my beautiful hair fall around me to the floor.  My blond locks had often been commented on by the women, and now they lay on my kitchen floor.  They were part of my identity but now they were gone, along with another part of my manhood.  Despite myself, I felt the unmistakeable sting of tears again, and a tear silently dropped down my cheek and fell onto my thigh.

Rubbing my eyes, I thanked George when he had finished and handed him a note as payment.  I could feel a change in my status already and dared not look in the mirror as I stared down at the floor.  I was no longer the cocky superior to this man.  He stuffed the note solemnly into his overall and shook his head.  “You know Mr Walker, it sure changes your looks.  Cant understand why a guy like you would do such a thing.  Makes you look like a boy.  Usually when a guy does this for charity, he does it in front of his audience, not semi naked in his own apartment.  And I never seen a guy crying before when he does it.”  He looked deep into my eyes and sensed my submission, watching as I dropped my eyes in shame and then he shook his head and left.  As I closed the door, I realised that the “Sir” had been dropped from his address to me and his face contained a hint of superiority over me.

I looked down at my football shorts, coated in hairs.  With a sigh, I pulled them off and tossed them to one side.  Wearing only my white CKs, I turned to the mirror and looked at my reflection.  I was shocked at the transformation.  Instead of a successful businessman and jock athlete, I stared at the face of a slave.  I looked like a convict and I ran my hand over my stubbly head, the ridges and bumps outlined in its bald state.  Gone was the jock boy.  Staring back at me was the gaunt face and red eyes of a humiliated boy.  Eyes that betrayed my shock and desperation and humiliation.   I looked every inch a thug.  A low life.  I could not even contemplate how I could go to work tomorrow as I stared at the monstrous stubble.

My desperation was disturbed by the sound of a key in the lock.  As I turned, I faced Anna and my humiliation plumbed new levels as she looked at me.  Stood there in only my white CKs and with my head shaved, I faced my former girlfriend.  The woman who I had hoped to marry one day. 

She stared open mouthed and looked me up and down.  “Jesus Gary, I came to talk things through.  But look at you.  What are you? Some sort of gay skinhead?  Fuck me.  Forget it.”  And with a slam, she exited the door.

I collapsed in a heap.  My life was collapsing around me and he had only owned me for a matter of hours.  Why me?  Why was he doing this to me?  Alone and in the depths of despair I thumped my fists against my stubbled head.  This was all so unfair and so unnecessary.  I had done my tasks as he had ordered and yet I felt sick inside.  With no prospect of any improvement tomorrow, I imagined walking into my office at work with my stubbled head.  I imagined Lewis walking in and greeting me, and me answering him with “Yes Master.”  Lying practically naked on my kitchen floor, I collected my thoughts and sat up.  I shuddered with dread.

Chapter 6

It was normally a five minute drive to work in my sports car, but as I dressed the following morning I realised that my car park permit was irrelevant.  My personal parking space in the garage under our office block would remain empty today and I would be walking to work from now on.  My shaved head on permanent display.  I stood under the shower and my heart lurched as I rubbed my hands over my head and felt the stubbled remains of my hair.  I could only hope that the directors would somehow approve of my haircut, and that Lewis would not humiliate me in the presence of others at work.

I towelled myself dry and heard the buzz of my mobile phone as I did so.  I closed my eyes in frustration at the knowledge that it would be Lewis.  It was a stark message from him.  I sat naked on my bed and dragged the towel across my exposed cock and balls.  I read the text silently.   “LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING SHAVED HEAD SLAVE BOY.  MEET ME IN YOUR OFFICE WHEN YOU ARRIVE.  SLAVES DON’T USE LIFTS.”  I sighed in resignation.  It was clear that he revelled in humiliating me, and I could only imagine what would happen when I arrived in my office with him.  The lift comment was completely unfair as well, as I worked on the 20th floor of the office block.  I had never even seen the stairs.

Deep in thought I pulled on my socks and pulled up my tight white CKs.  I pulled out my expensive silk shirt and tie and placed it on before turning to my trousers.  As I pulled one leg into my trouser, I cried out in anguish.  “Fuck!  Fuck you, you bastard!”  I had forgotten that underwear was not allowed for me any more.  Removing my trousers I pulled down my underwear and tossed them to one side.  I pulled up my suit trousers again over my naked crotch and put on my shoes.  I stood up and felt my cock rub against the scratchy inside of my suit trousers.  As I looked at myself in the mirror, an involuntary sob escaped me.  I always felt so smart, so invincible in my office clothing.  Now as I looked at my reflection, I felt only the mark of slavery on me.  My stubby ridiculous head looked back at me and all the rich boy clothing in the world couldn’t hide it.  Hairless and without underwear, I felt somehow exposed.  Vulnerable.  Inferior.

I walked towards the mirror, checking if my free swinging cock could be seen under my suit trousers. I wasn’t sure if it could be seen, but I could certainly feel it there.  It would be a constant reminder of my position.

I left my apartment early to start the walk to work.  Passing George in the hallway, I felt my face redden and I bowed my head as I walked through the hallway.  His normal, cheerful “Morning Mr Walker” was replaced with a solemn stare as he watched me pass. 

I walked out and into the streets of the central business district of the city, passing businessmen like myself.  Dressed like myself, but wearing underwear and possessing hair on their head.  Staring at the ridiculous combination of a smartly dressed man with a stubble hair cut.  I felt the cold of the morning on my bare head, the wind passing over my shaved stubble.  I felt my free hanging cock and balls swinging as I walked and it made me feel exposed.  The difference between myself and the other businessmen that I passed was as stark as if I was naked and I was already beginning to realise that the world of corporate business could not possibly accept someone like me.  How could I stand in front of a client like this ? How could I focus on representing the company at a business lunch when I looked like a convict ?  How could I meet up for a squash session with a client when I was no longer allowed underwear ?

With a sick feeling in my stomach I reached our office building, pausing to notice my sports car in position in my parking space.  Clearly Lewis had used it for his journey to work this morning.

I walked up the main steps and into the foyer, head down, veins in my forehead pulsing violently from the extreme humiliation I felt.  I could not look at the secretary on the main desk, though I knew that she must be staring at me.  Often I would stop and flirt with her as I passed, and she would giggle at my jokey comments.  The other men in the office had commented that she had a crush on me and was always talking about my stunning looks.  I could only imagine what she thought now as she looked at the stubbly bald head of a slave.  Alpha jock boy?  No more.

It was only as I walked towards the lift that I realised Master’s orders and that I must walk up the stairs.  I looked around and saw the stairs in the other corner, past her desk.  Silently, steeling myself, I walked head down past her desk.  My footsteps echoing on the marble floor was the only sound as I almost ran in humiliation past her.

I felt a sense of impending doom as I walked up the twenty flights of stairs.  I wanted to keep walking.  To never reach the suite of offices that would bring me face to face with my tormentor and owner.  To never reach the suite of offices that contained my subordinate office workers.  As I climbed upwards, my heart sank as I considered my thoughts.  How could I consider my office workers as my subordinates any more?  They had not been forced to finish with their lover.  They were no doubt wearing underwear.  They no doubt were allowed hair on their heads.  They were no doubt free to do as they wished, rather than learning to accept that their future was one of slavery.  It was all just unbelievably cruel and unfair.

As I finally reached my floor I took a deep breath before opening the office doors.  I was used to stepping out of the lift confidently, striding past the open plan office workers with a cheery “Good morning” and feeling my superiority over them as I entered my office.  I was used to someone bringing me a coffee as I hung up my jacket and switched on my top-of-the-range PC.

I walked through the office doors and scuttled through the main office area.  They were all there.  They did not speak but looked at me in amazement as I passed them.  I knew that I looked ridiculous.  I knew that my red face had been compounded by the twenty flights I had just climbed.  I could feel my sweaty genitals sticking to my suit trousers as I pushed my way silently through the office, past their amazed and silent expressions, and entered the relative safety of my own office.  As I turned and pushed the door closed behind me, I heard a snigger of laughter in the main room, and a cry of mock indignation as Russell – one of the office boys – shouted “What the fuck is that about? Christ, what does he look like?”.  I closed the door  to a chorus of quiet laughter.

Mentally exhausted I removed my jacket like an automaton, hanging it on the door.  I looked at the sweat patches on my normally immaculate suit and wiped the perspiration from my stubbly head before turning and noticing Lewis sat on my office settee.  He didn’t even look at me as he leafed through a magazine.  “Morning slave,” he stated in a matter-of-fact way.  “Get in the bathroom.”

I closed my eyes momentarily.  Would this constant humiliation never end?  “Yes Master,” I replied before moving quickly into my office’s ensuite bathroom.  “And you know what you will be wearing when I get in there.”

I scuttled into the bathroom and closed the door behind me.  “Keep the door open,” he snarled and I obediently opened it again.  In a daze, I stood there in the small toilet space and began to undress.  Like some cheap whore, I removed my footwear, my shirt, tie and trousers to stand there naked in my own office ensuite, staring into the office at the man who owned me.

He left me standing there for five minutes before he put down his magazine and came into the bathroom.  He stood before me dressed in his suit, and I noticed his immaculately groomed hair.  I felt my nudity like never before, displayed naked before a fully dressed man.  I fought  a feeling of inner disgust as I felt myself kneel before him as he entered and smirked at my appearance.

He snorted in derision.  “Learning your place slowly boy.”  I knelt head down as he pushed his fingers through the stubble on my head.  “Nice job slave, you beginning to look more like a slave boy ” he stated – calmly and matter-of-factly, as if this was a normal everyday occurrence.  “I presume Anna is now history.”

“Yes Master,” I whispered.  I wanted to stand and punch him for what he had done and yet somehow, being naked in this position in my own office – the office that I had worked so hard to gain over the past seven years of Oxford education and graft through the office ranks – I felt more humble and ashamed and humiliated than I could deal with.

“That’s what I like to hear.  An obedient slave boy.  Will serve you well in your ordeals to come to remember that.”

He reached behind him and produced a small bag.  “Clothes in here,” he snarled.  I looked up in confusion, and then reluctantly picked up my ironed clothes from the floor and pushed them into the bag.  With a laugh of contempt, he took the bag from my hands and exited the bathroom, closing the door behind him.  And I knelt there naked.  If anyone came in here now, I could not get dressed.  I was entirely at his mercy.  I was entirely under his control.  The way he liked it.

I don’t know how long I was in there.  My heart pounded as several employees came in and spoke to Lewis, clearly working at my computer and sat at my desk.  I heard him laugh with one of the younger males, discussing the football and the golf at the weekend.  I held my breath so as not to make a noise.

It must have been over an hour before he came into the bathroom.  An hour of kneeling naked imprisoned in the bathroom.  He looked down at me, kneeling naked and shivering in the cold of the air conditioned room.  “I’ve been doing some research on your accounts slave.  I’ve called Bernard down to have a meeting with me in ten minutes.  And I want you to be at the meeting slave.”

I looked up at him puzzled.  What was he planning?  I had no doubts that my cruel tormentor had further plans to intimidate and bully me.  It would not be a conventional meeting.

“Don’t look so worried boy.  We are going to be adjusting your career plans and I think it’s only fair that you should be present when we do that.  I have outlined a new career plan for you slave.”

I felt my heart sinking.  I had always held the upper hand over Lewis.  I was harder working, I was more intelligent.  I was regarded as higher status.  The irony was not lost on me now as I considered my new status, but I also considered the fact that he now held my entire future in his hands.  I was powerless to do anything to resist his “plans” for me.

He smiled as he noticed the recognition across my face.  He knew I understood the certain knowledge that my promising career was about to be handed over to him, and my own future lay in the hands of him as my new Master.  “Hey don’t worry slave boy,” he cooed rubbing his hands across my stubbled head and down across my chest.  “I will give you the chance to interrupt me at any time as I outline it for Bernard.  Just speak up if you disagree with anything and we can discuss it.”

“Now lets go and get ourselves comfortable.  Its going to be a fairly intense meeting boy.”  He opened the door and walked into the office.  I stood still and looked at him.  “My clothes Master?” I begged.

He laughed.  “I’ve told you boy, you only get clothing when I allow it.  Now get out here.”

Terrified and vulnerable, I stumbled into my office stark naked.  Lewis motioned me towards my desk and I stood there naked as he reclined in my leather seat.  “Oh, I forgot to mention where you would be spending the meeting boy,” he stated as he typed a password into my computer.  “Get yourself down here under this mighty big desk.”  He clicked his fingers and motioned me down behind the desk.

It was almost a relief to crawl into the space under the desk, though the sudden realisation hit me that I would be spending the “meeting” as a naked slave.  I could not begin to contemplate how ashamed I would feel lying there naked when my manager Bernard came in.  He would not see me there, but nevertheless it would be an intense humiliation to know he was discussing business with Lewis, as I lay naked at Lewis’s feet.  And the business would undoubtedly be how they could change my life.

Lewis looked down at me and moved me into position so that I lay face up at his feet.  I stared up at his suited body as I lay naked on the carpet under my desk and watched as he removed his shoes and placed them to one side.  “Open your mouth boy,” he snarled.

And without a word of warning, he placed one of his socked feet over my cock and balls.  The other he placed over my open mouth.  He wriggled his toes over my naked cock, and then over my mouth.  I could smell the aroma of a man’s feet filling my nostrils and open mouth, his damp sock against my shocked teeth and I shuddered in self loathing and humiliation.  A successful jock boy, I lay naked under my new owner’s feet and prepared to learn my fate.

He looked down and laughed.  “All about learning your place slaveboy.  You comfortable?”  I looked up at him, my eyes sad and tearful, my mind reeling in the abject horror of my predicament.  He pressed down his foot on my genitals and repeated “Comfortable boy? Speak when your Master speaks to you.”

“Uuuth Mttther” I gagged, my mouth restricted under his sock and my tongue flicking involuntarily on the underside of his sock as I tried to speak.

“Good.  And don’t forget that you are allowed to speak up and contradict me at any stage if you don’t agree with my career plans for you.”

I groaned inwardly.  “uuuth mtther” I repeated pathetically.  There was no way that I would be interjecting, revealing myself naked to my boss, under the feet of my new Master and the guy who was clearly tightening his stranglehood over what remained of my life.

I held my breath in anguish as I heard a brief knock and the sound of Bernard entering the office.  “Hello Lewis, where’s Gary today then?” he boomed as he sat down in front of my desk.  I could just make out the bottoms of his shoes as he sat literally inches from my naked body.

“Well that’s what I need to talk to you about Bernard,” Lewis retorted.  And sadistically, he ran his socked foot across my open mouth and pushed his toes inside my mouth.

Chapter 7

Is this really happening to me?  Am I really lay naked under my own office desk, my hair reduced to stubble and a guy’s feet kneading my mouth and genitals, my mouth gagged full of the stuffy smell of his feet ?  Am I really inches away from the feet of my boss and my controller, who are about to discuss my future and there is nothing I can do about it ?

“Gary’s been having a bad time of it recently Bernard.”

“Really?  I haven’t noticed anything ….”

“Yeah I know, I have been covering up for him.  I have been doing a lot of his work on top of my own work to try and keep his customer accounts in order.  But its reached a stage where he just doesn’t feel he can carry on.”  I rolled my eyes in frustration at Lewis’s arrogance and deception.  Presenting himself as the hero at my expense.

“I am shocked at Gary, Lewis.  I didn’t realise there was anything wrong with him, or that you two were so close.”

“O we are inseparable Bernard.  Gary depends on me now,” he stated with a sincerity that belied the fact that he was resting his socked feet on my humiliated, naked body.

“You see Bernard – between me and you – Gary and Anna have separated.”

“Ah, oh dear.  That’s always difficult for young couples who are so much in love.  It’s always difficult.  And they were such a nice couple.  He must be devastated,” Bernard sighed with an obvious compassion for me.

“Well actually it was Gary that finished it.” Lewis paused and then delivered his devastating blow.  “You see, Gary’s been hiding the fact for a while now that he is actually gay Bernard.”

Lying perfectly still under the table, I felt my stomach turn over as he lied to my boss.  I wanted to scream that I was not gay.  I was a hetero straight jock boy, not a queer,  But I remained motionless and silent.  Standing up naked under Lewis’s desk would not be a wise move.  And the bastard knew the devastation he was causing, as he clenched his toes up and down on my genitals.  A further sign that he controlled me completely and wanted to display his total power over my shattered life.

Bernard was silent for a moment.  “Does anyone else know this Lewis?  About Gary being, you know, being gay?”

Lewis leaned forward and murmured conspiratorially “Well, the thing is Bernard, he’s having a bit of a breakdown about it.  He’s totally confused.  He’s shaved his head like a gay skinhead.  Done some other stuff as well.  Been sleeping around with guys behind Anna’s back.  Allsorts of stuff.  The football team don’t know half of what their captain gets up to with other guys.  If they did, they certainly wouldn’t shower with him.  His head is all screwed up.”  He reached down under the desk as if he was scratching his foot, and with his growing confidence in his control over me, grabbed hold of my cock and stroked it up and down gently as Bernard continued.

“O my God Lewis !  I really feel for the boy, but …. well ….. well we cant have him here like that.  In his position, he can seriously undermine the reputation of the company.”

“I know Bernard.  I know,” simpered Lewis, running his fingers over my cock head and scratching its underside.  “Well I have been thinking about it and I have discussed it with Gary.  He didn’t want to lose the progress he has made since he joined the company, but he knows he needs something more suitable for his talents.  I have made him see the light Bernard.  I have shown him what he needs to do from now on and he is beginning to understand.  You see, I have a plan ….”

“OK.  Go ahead then” Bernard replied, his chair creaking as he adjusted himself.  “I am open to your suggestions Lewis.”

Despite the fact that my career had just joined my private life in tatters, I had to admire Lewis.  He was good.  He had concocted a whole scenario and – as he knew would happen – Bernard was falling for it hook, line and sinker.  I lay there in naked misery and awaited the conclusion of Lewis’s plan.  Gritting my teeth, I closed my eyes as I felt my straight boy cock hardening to the touch of another man, my Owner, as Lewis gently teased it with his fingers.  I waited to see what would become of my hard-worked-for and so promising career.

Lewis released my cock and moved his hand above the table.  In misery, I heard it slap down erect on my abs and looked down at my naked body in horror.  In seconds, my view was stopped by Lewis’s sock, as once more he ran his toes across my mouth.  “You wouldn’t want Gary to be seen in the office the way he looks Bernard.  He did come in this morning and some of the staff saw him.  Caused quite a murmur.  I managed to get him downstairs and I will go and speak with him when you have gone upstairs again, if you agree to my proposal.  I have a plan to keep him out of the sight of clients, permanently.”

“Well done Lewis !  Good to know I can rely on you in a situation like this.”

“Yes well I am doing it for Gary’s welfare really Bernard.  Anyway, we need him out of the way until he calms down.  Gets his head sorted.  And I know you wouldn’t want to see him out of work.  He is unemployable the way he is at the moment.”

I shifted uncomfortably, desperate to remove the taste of man feet from my mouth and desperate to control my cock.  No man had ever touched my cock, let alone stroked it like Lewis had just done.  It wasn’t what footballers did.  It wasn’t my style.

“No indeed not, we must look after him Lewis.  He has been a good worker for the company.”

“Well, I think you know, Bernard, that my mate is Dennis the caretaker.  I went to school with him and I usually have a chat with him at some stage every week.   I know that, as senior management, we need to keep the cleaning staff happy don’t we?”

Bernard murmured an approval and my confused mind raced as to where this was heading.  “I thought it would be a good idea to get Gary doing something that didn’t require any thought.  You know, a job where he can work alone and just get on with things quietly.  So I’ve had a word with Dennis and he is prepared to have him helping him out as his assistant caretaker.  You know - some basic painting, gardening, maintenance, toilet cleaning.  That sort of thing.  Obviously, we would pay him at that basic rate as well, but Gary is keen on the idea.  He knows he needs to get out of managerial work and he feels he would benefit from a more menial role at the moment.  So we would be looking after his interests.  If he gets better, we can get him back up here on the management level.  I will monitor the situation.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing!  Oxford graduate and management trainee of the year, and I was facing the prospects of being a caretaker and gardener until Lewis decided otherwise.  And who was this Dennis?  It was unbelievable.  My earnings and salary were massive, way above the norm for even successful guys of my age and now Lewis had volunteered me to take the wages of a basic manual worker.  It would be a crippling loss of finance, and I couldn’t afford any of my current lifestyle if it came to pass.  My car? Apartment? Holidays? Weekends out? Gold Gym membership? All the trappings of wealth that I had built up.

My thoughts were interrupted as Lewis removed his socked foot from my mouth, slipping on his stylish brogues.  “I’m pleased you agree Bernard.  I think its just right.  Just leave it to me.  Its for the best for Gary.  I’ll take care of everything including his wages.”

Bernard and Lewis exchanged a few pleasantries, oblivious to the naked jock boy whose life was destroyed, lying miserably under his former desk.  Ironically, I felt a dribble of precum drop down from my slit onto my abs, as my cock ached for release after its torment from Lewis.  Even my cock betrayed me now.  I had not had the chance to wank for days, and I rued the thought that my fuck with the girl on Saturday had been its last release.  The start of my misery.

As the door opened, I listened dejectedly as Bernard stated “You know Lewis, there have been times when I have thought you were too career-minded to progress to senior management, not enough compassion.  But you have impressed me today with what you have shown for Gary, taking care of him like this.  I think this may be an opportunity for you to progress.  Move your stuff into this office and take care of Gary’s accounts.  We will review the situation if Gary returns.  Good work Lewis!”

Lewis professed his thanks and ushered Bernard out of the door before coming around the desk and sitting on the chair.  He looked down at me, grovelling naked on the floor  and his eyes moved down to the precum oozing from my engorged cock.  His eyes widened and he started to chuckle.  And then he sat back in his chair and openly laughed.  Despite all of the humiliations, all of the degradation, my face reddened again and I felt the pangs of despair.  No man had ever seen me displayed naked and erect.  Guys didn’t do that.  It was queer.  And now, I lay sprawled naked at his feet, erect and displayed like a common bitch.

I stared at his face.  He was a sadist.  He clearly revelled in what he had done to me, he loved the visible destruction of my manhood before his very eyes and now he had taken my job.  I had done nothing wrong and yet my life was in complete ruins.  I was broken.  My relationship was over, my job was over, my image was ruined and I could not afford to keep my home or car.  All in one weekend.

“Glad you are pleased with your career change boy.  You certainly look very excited,” he chuckled nodding at my erect cock.  “I am certainly pleased with my new office.  Now we need to get you sorted to start your new job so you had better get back into the toilet again.”  He kicked my thigh.  “Come on slave.  Up you get.”

I rose to my feet and scuttled naked into the bathroom, covering my cock with my hands as I went.   I knelt on the cold tiles and waited for Lewis to enter, my rage boiling over as the ramifications of his actions in ruining my life began to slot in place in my mind.

He stood before me and sneered at me, as my cock sank downwards again in defeat.

“You wont get away with this Lewis,” I snarled, looking up at him.  “You may think you are destroying me but I am still a man.  I still have rights.  I know you’ve got me kneeling nude in submission in front of you now.  But I will get my life back.  Somehow, I will find a way out of this and I will destroy you completely when that day comes.”

He laughed aloud.  “My dear slaveboy, don’t be ridiculous.  Your life as a man is over and it is never returning.  I have you right where I want you.  My master plan is all fitting nicely into place.  And you are completely powerless to do anything about it.  The only way you will ever serve a useful existence from now on is as my slave and as the days slip into months you will learn a new existence as my naked property.  The sooner you learn that, the easier it will be for you accept your new status.”

He leaned down before me, and placed a finger under my chin.  He raised my face so that my eyes met his eyes.  “You only have me now boy.  When I have sorted you out with Dennis, I will be changing your salary.  And of course, as a slave, you don’t get paid for work.  So your money will be re-routed from today into my bank account slaveboy.  Money is irrelevant to a slave.  You won’t be getting any pocket money of your own from now on.  Your measly manual wage will all come to me as Your owner.  You will from now on be penniless.”

His eyes bored deep into mine as he tightened the control further inside my mind.  ”So, you had better be nice if you want some pocket money for food and clothes eh?”

I knelt naked on the floor and pushed my hands down in front of me, collapsing in a ball on the tiles.  I sobbed aloud, the reality of my complete dependence on him now beginning to hit home.  I looked up at his suited body, towering above me in the doorway and grinning down at me.  I looked up at him in anguish, tears rolling down my face and drool pooling on the floor from my open sobbing mouth. 

“Please Lewis.  Please Master.  Please let me go Sir.  Please don’t do this to me.  I don’t deserve this treatment.  Please let me free.  Let me start again somewhere else.  You have won.  You have beaten me.  Let me go please Sir.  I can’t live like this.  I can’t cope with this humiliation Sir.  I am a man.  I am a successful man with my whole life ahead of me.  All my dreams, my future.  Please Master, please don’t take them away from me. ”

Lewis watched me, grovelling and begging on the floor at his feet.  And he rose himself up to his full height, no doubt drinking in my degradation with relish.  He paused and waited until my anguished sobs had subsided.

“The more you beg me boy, the more I enjoy it.  I haven’t finished yet boy.  Lots more to do before I have you fully in the position that I want you in.  Welcome to slavery boy! Welcome to slavery!” and with a laugh, he re-entered his office and sat down at his new desk. 

Was he affected by my destruction? Did he feel remorse at my naked grovelling before him?  My answer was soon answered as I heard him press the intercom.  “Sarah, can you bring me a coffee?  Oh, and can you arrange for all of my files to be brought from my desk in the open plan office.  This is my new office now.”

He sat back at my desk and looked across at me, prostrate on the floor.  With a wink at my upturned humble eyes, he crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back on his chair.  “Life is good slaveboy.  Life is good,” he grinned.

Chapter 8

I lay there naked and shaking in both fear and frustration on the floor.  I was  physically and emotionally drained.  Lewis met Sarah at the office door for his coffee, and on his way back stopped half way across the carpet.  Looking at me grovelling on the floor he tutted and shook his head.  “I think your new naked status is the real you now slave, don’t you?”

I raised my head from the cold tiles and murmured “Yes Master”.  I was exhausted mentally as well as physically, my mind contorting in desperate scenarios of how I could try and escape my inevitable slide into slavery. 

I heard him pull at something, and the sound of breaking glass. He had ripped one of my pictures from the office wall.  He came and stood before me, and carefully pulled the picture out of the broken frame.  He sat down on the toilet, and motioned for me to turn and kneel in front of him.  “Regular hero weren’t you boy?” he smiled, turning the picture around and showing me.  It was my prized picture: the montage from last year’s City Cup Final.  Three pictures of myself: one scoring a goal, the other being shouldered off by my teammates and the third showing me lifting the cup.  The stuff that boyhood dreams are made of.   I looked at the delight on my face.  I noticed my muscular legs on the pitch, my athletic body and muscular arms.  I noticed my head of full hair.  I noticed myself as a free boy, carefree and heroic.  In desolation, I closed my eyes and noticed the new me.  The slave.

I looked up at the sound, as slowly and deliberately he began to rip the photograph into small pieces.   “Well unfortunately our hero is no more.  He has gone for good, and has been replaced by a poor trapped naked slaveboy.”  I sniffed and tried to hold back my tears, hold back some dignity, as he lifted the toilet seat and flushed away my past down the toilet.

With a grin, he reached onto a shelf in the toilet and pulled something out. 

He threw an item of clothing at me.  “Get dressed,” he snarled and turned back into his office.  HIS office.  Not mine anymore.  His career had just taken a turn for the better.  My career was ended and henceforth I would work for no wages as a maintenance man.  I shook my head in frustration and disbelief.  My momentary rebellion was squashed before it began and I stood naked and unfurled the rough material in my hands.

I unfolded the garment and stared at it.  It was a pair of flesh coloured dungarees, complete with straps that came over the shoulders and fastened to buttons on the front of the garment.  No pockets.  No style.  The sort of dungarees a young child would wear, even down to the fact that they would reach to just above my knees.  A simple garment made of a coarse material that would signal once and for all my status as a manual worker, dressed in simple work clothing.  Not even a manual worker, I would even look like a slave of olden times in simple, basic slave clothing.  I was used to the finest clothes and the fashionable garment of a well paid and athletic jock in the prime of his youth, not the simple garments of a common slave.  I looked on the floor for the T-shirt but there was none.  Silently, humbly, I slipped my bare legs into the garment and pulled it over my bare genitals, the coarseness of the material immediately making me adjust my cock and balls to avoid rubbing.  I looked out of the door at Lewis, sat in his immaculate suit on his new chair at his new desk and looked back at my own ridiculous clothing.  We were in different worlds.  

“There doesn’t appear to be a shirt Master,” I murmured, immediately startled at the humble and deferential way that I was speaking to him.

“Slaves don’t need shirts.  Count yourself lucky that I am covering your cock boy.  Do your straps up.”

“Yes Master,” I snivelled and pulled the braces over my shoulders to fasten them in front.  I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and shook my head in amazement.  My family and friends would not have recognised the stubbled freak who looked back through the mirror.  Bare chested, my bare chest and arm muscles bulging like some cheap stripper dressed in work gear.  And I looked down in horror to see the outline of my cock and balls clearly in view at the front of my tight, cheap dungarees.  The straps had no means of adjusting themselves and so it seemed I was destined to display the obscene outline of my genitals.  I felt practically naked as I walked into the office and stood before my Master.  I was indeed entirely naked apart from the obscene dungarees, not even given any footwear.  Even my arse seemed exposed, no bagginess at all in the fabric meaning that the material followed the contour of my bubble butt as I tried to stretch the fabric from my crack.  Below the knees, my exposed calf muscles bulged above my shapely feet.  I had always been proud of my legs and feet, totally defined and muscular as a footballer.  I had loved to wear shorts to show them off to women and to Anna, but now that they were on forced display I felt sick to my stomach.

Lewis looked up and did a double take.  He looked at my package and at the extent to which my upper body was completely on display.  Laughing aloud, he jumped to his feet and clapped his hands.  “Perfect,” he sniggered as he pushed my body to turn in a 360 degree turn for him.  “Just perfect.  Hope you like it slave boy as it’s the only thing you will be wearing from now on at work.  Every day, until it wears out and then we will see if we can get you another one.”  A simple statement that resounded in my brain, as I realised this was not a one-off humiliation.  This was my life from now on.  This was my existence.

“Now we need to go down to your new office.  Take a good look around because you wont be coming up here again boy.  It was mean of me not to save your football memorabilia for you, it’s down the toilet.  Still, never mind.  Best to move on from your previous life, eh?”

I looked at the space on the wall where my sporting prowess had been displayed, and looked down at my ridiculous slavewear.  “You will follow me now as we go down to meet your new boss Dennis.  Follow a couple of steps behind me at all times.  And don’t forget your manners if I speak to you boy.”

I felt the now familiar welling up of panic inside me, as I contemplated the humiliation of walking through the building dressed like this.  As the tears pricked the corners of my eyes, I hung my head and replied “Yes Master.”

“Come on then boy, lets get you out in public doing some service,” he said, jumping to his feet and putting on his expensive jacket.  And with a new found confidence he strode towards the door and turned the handle.  I followed behind him like an obedient dog, barefoot and dressed in my obscene costume.  My stubbly head a beacon that displayed to the world that I had a new status in life.

I entered the corridor outside my old office and my ears pricked up at the noticeable cessation of noise.  The office went silent.  A telephone rang and I heard it picked up and slammed down as all eyes fixed on my pornographic costume.  I kept my head down and tried to control the burning sensation in my cheeks.  My teeth chattered and I could feel my whole body convulsing slightly in sick fear at my total humiliation and degradation.  Lewis started to walk and I prayed that he would not take me through the middle of the open plan office. 

It was, of course, a forlorn hope.  I followed behind him silently, humbly, my knees knocking in shame.  I felt the silent and curious eyes burning into me, asking what had happened to the office jock.  I had been the boss that all of the women flirted with, and all of the men secretly wanted to be.  Not any more though.  My life as a figure of admiration was well and truly over and could never return after this episode.  Reduced to this: a humble slave walking silently and ashamed, a pace behind my controller and tormentor.

As the door approached I wanted to run, escape the humiliation.  But Lewis sauntered slowly through the office, letting everyone get a good view of my lewdly displayed body.  And my heart missed a beat as he stopped at the door. 

He turned and faced the office, and cleared his throat.  “Could I have everyone’s attention for a moment please?” he called, unnecessarily in the screaming silence of the office.  With a decisive push, and treating me like some retarded infant, he pushed me in my bare chest and slowly turned me around to face the office too.  

I would have gladly died rather than stand there, obscenely dressed and barefoot, as Lewis completed my total degradation.  “If anyone needs me, I will be gone half an hour.  Got to take this boy down to his new job in the caretakers department,” he shouted.  “Isn’t that right boy?”

I kept my eyes downcast as I whimpered “Yes Sir.” I shuddered in abject misery, and my bottom lip quivered in my total degradation.  Gratefully, I turned and followed him out of the door and down the hall, giving them all one final glimpse of my thinly veiled arse.  Silently I followed like a little boy, my bare feet slapping on the cold tiled floor as we moved towards the lifts.

I followed him into the lift and stood as instructed behind him. We descended to the basement.  I had nothing to say to him.  I was powerless to do anything.  I had no clothing, no job, no money, not even my housekeys anymore as I realised that they were in the bag with my suit upstairs.  I looked at his back and hung my head.  I realised that he was controlling me completely, and that rather than hatred and rage for him, I was afraid of him and what he had done to me.  I wanted to hit him but I couldn’t.  I had to obey.  He controlled everything.

The lift doors opened as we reached the floor marked BASEMENT and we moved out into a scruffy corridor.  I followed Lewis to a locked doorway, and followed him down some steep steps into a basement area.  It was almost a hidden floor, certainly an area I had never thought about before. 

One wall was a cage mesh, and the wind blew a cold breeze over this unheated basement area.   It was a large area consisting of the boilers, various tools and shelves of paints, and some small cupboards containing cleaning equipment.  In one corner sat a large, muscular black man, and we moved towards him.

I couldn’t believe what was happening.  It was like a scene from a gangster movie.  Me following Lewis on an imaginary lead as he walked towards a shady character.  This wasn’t the company I usually kept during working hours.  Normally I would be arranging a lunch in the city, or organising a round of golf for the late afternoon.  But now, like a dog, I followed obediently, my cold feet brushing the harsh concrete floor as I strained through the dim light to get a look at my new workmate, Dennis.

Lewis stopped in front of Dennis, and Dennis reached over to switch off his radio.  “Well here he is Dennis,” Lewis said.   With a chuckle, Dennis stood up and moved towards me.  He stood in front of me, looking me up and down before brushing his hand across my stubbled head like I was some sort of animal.

Lewis came and stood at Dennis’s side, and uttered a single word that I did not want to hear.

“Strip.”

Chapter 9

Lewis glared at me, dressed sharply in his executive suit.  I looked back in disbelief: barefoot and exposed as I was, dressed only in my pathetic slave dungarees.

“Take off your little slave suit boy.  Bare arsed naked display.”

I looked at him.  “Sir?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself boy.”

I gulped.  I looked at Dennis, as if to protest to Lewis that someone else was here.  I had understand our arrangement to be a private scenario – even though today had proved this to be far from the case.  But there was no doubting what he had said.  And so obediently, unquestioningly, I undid my buttons and stepped out of my dungarees.  Feeling the shame of two fully clothed men watching me strip naked, I shrugged my dungarees – my only belonging now - to the side of me, stood up stark naked and faced Master Lewis and Dennis.

Dennis ran his eyes up and down my naked flesh.  His eyes widened and the cigarette in his mouth glowed as he sucked in air through his thick lips.  He chuckled again and walked around me.

“Probably don’t even recognise me boy, do you?” he snarled.  “As far as you is concerned I is just a nigger.  Aint that right boy?”

I looked at him puzzled.  I could not recollect ever seeing him before, and I was certainly not in any way a racist.

“You just walk past me as if I don’t exist when I is painting your name on the wall above your fancy sports car.  Catch my eyes but don’t thank me.  Pretend I is invisible as you laugh with your fancy city boys.”

He glared at me, his face inches from mine and his eyes flashed with anger.  His eyes reflected the years of being treated as a second class citizen.  Now was his opportunity for revenge..  Now he could impose himself.  I watched in horror as he hawked some spit in his mouth.  As if in slow motion, I reeled back as a gob of his spit was propelled at force out of his mouth, landing square in the centre of my face, between my eyes.  Confused, I fell backwards and caught myself in time.

“Get up slave,” Dennis screamed and I scrambled to my feet to face him.  I opened my mouth to protest, as I pulled my arm across to wipe the spit from my face.  But he grabbed it and pulled it down.  I stood there, dazed.  I blinked my eyes and wriggled my nose to no avail.  The ball of spit continued down my cheek and rested on my lip as he continued to shout. 

“Walk across my flower beds with your whiteboy city clients.  See me working on em but just walk across em anyways.  Don’t ask my name.  I is just a nigger to you.  Not worth looking at for you big hotshot whiteboys.”

He stared into my submissive eyes and I dropped my own eyes in dismay, shuddering to think how or when I had obviously upset this man.  He poked his finger into his trail of spit, tracing it down my face and pushing it gently through my closed lips.  I panted through partly closed lips at the panic of the situation, at the total shock of my debasement, and he pushed his spit through my partly opened lips.  I tasted his spit.  His thick, slimy, smoky spit coated my tongue.

He laughed as he watched the repulsion on my face.  A crackly smoker’s laugh.  Then his voice rose in pitch and he continued to rant at me.  “Drive past me in your flash whiteboy car in the rain, splash my clothes as you pass by, music blaring.”

I looked at Lewis in confusion, and wished I hadn’t.  His smug look relishing my uncomfortable silence as I stood naked and confused, my face covered in spit.  Unable to retort.

He poked me in my chest.  “Well not anymore whiteboy.  Not anymore.  Not quite so cocky now you is grovelling butt naked in front of me.  Now you is eating my spit.  I got me the use of my own honky slaveboy now.  Some white bitch boy to take out my frustrations on.”  He roared with laughter, turning to Lewis and sharing the joke with his fellow tormentor.  I opened my mouth to speak, to defend myself.  I had done no harm to this man but I knew my words would only make matters worse. 

Desperately, I closed my eyes as Dennis’s laughter stopped.  Why me? Why did I have to suffer as his naked slave to repay his frustrations at his life?  I had done nothing to deserve this degradation.  I wanted to scream in self-pity.  I wanted to beg them to stop.  I wanted some comfort.  Someone to hold me in their arms and tell me this would all end.  Someone to be kind to me.

It didn’t happen.

Dennis narrowed his eyes and moved behind me.  Though I felt uncomfortable I remained still, legs spread.  I shuddered as I felt his arm wrap onto my abs from behind.  With a push to my back he bent me forwards and I stood there stark naked, bent at the waist.  He relished his domination over me as I stood there bent at the waist, exposed in this cold basement area.

He chuckled again and I gasped as I felt Dennis spreading my arse cheeks.  A rush of cold ran up the crack of my arse and hit my hole.  An area of the body that no man displays at any time, and yet here I was naked in front of two men in the basement, my cheeks spread and my arsehole on full display.  Involuntarily, I raised myself onto my tiptoes and an audible squeal exited my lips as I felt Dennis’s finger push into my hole.  My virgin hole.  My straight hole.  No one touched my hole.  No one.

Until now.

The low deep chuckle sounded again and Dennis’s finger was pulled in and out of my hole, several times.  He moved to the side and I stood up and shook my head, adjusting my unsteady, spread legs as I raised my body.  This was unreal.  I had no privacy, no right to any freedom.  No right to stop the degradation.  Every minute spelled new humiliations, new depths for me.  I stared at Dennis as he appeared in front of me, my desperate eyes appealing for some mercy from him: he had no real axe to grind with me.  He need not assist Lewis in my destruction as a man.  And yet he had just delighted in exploring my sphincter.  He pawed at my naked flesh like I was a piece of cattle, chuckling at my degradation.

Dennis looked older than me, about 30.  He clearly worked out at the gym, his old tshirt displaying thick muscles underneath and his exposed arms thick and muscular.  His flared nose and thick lips broke into a grin and his eyes danced with amusement as he raised his finger to my lips and gently pushed it into my mouth.  Reluctantly, I parted my lips and obeyed his command to suck his finger.  I licked his finger clean and tasted the musky taste of my own arse juices for the first time in my life, mixed in with the spit of my black tormentor.

“Yeah Mr Carlton Sir, he’ll do Sir.  Nice bit of beef for Dennis this is.  I’m going to enjoy training up this whiteboy Sir, teach him his place” he smiled, never taking his brown eyes away from my own gaze as I sucked on his finger.

“Good Dennis.  I am pleased to hear that.  I think your training will be very important in teaching this arrogant jock boy slave his new position”. 

Lewis walked over and stood behind Dennis, and then spoke loudly and clearly to confirm my new role.  “Now as you may have noticed boy, Dennis is fully aware of your new status in life.  You will be spending all of your work time down here with Dennis.  I am your Master: he is your boss.  You will refer to him as “Boss” and you will show him all of the respect and obedience that you show me.  Understand?”

I nodded emptily, and looked into the sparkling eyes of Dennis, watching in horror as he ran his free hands over my chest and down the front of my body.  He licked his lips, clearly revelling at the prospect of his impending total control over my trim, athletic body.

“I didn’t hear you boy,” Lewis snarled, his shoe pressing down on my bare foot.

“Yes Sir I understand Sir.”  I looked down at my feet in dismay and caught a sideways glance at Dennis as he adjusted a clear tent that was evident in his bulging work trousers.  Dennis had enjoyed seeing me naked and playing with my straight boy hole..

“No one ever comes down here boy.  No one but you and Dennis.  You will report here at 8am each day, and leave at 6pm.  When you arrive, you will take off your slave clothes and present yourself naked and kneeling to your boss.  You will kneel here naked, head bowed and silent until Dennis finds a use for you.”

The prospect of this turned my stomach.  I had expected some humiliation when I had heard my new job role, but this seemed unbearable.  The prospect of starting every day kneeling naked at Dennis’s feet.  How low could these sick bastards go in degrading me?

Lewis continued in his Master plan.  “Dennis will be your trainer during the day and decide your tasks.  He decides if you eat, if you wear clothes, if you get any breaks.  His word is law.  And if Dennis tells me you are not totally obedient and eager to please him, I will not be impressed boy.”

Dennis raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips into a mock kiss.  He coughed loudly as he threw his cigarette on the floor.  “I run a tight ship down here boy.  Don’t think of being late or wearing any clothes when you report to me boy.  I want you always butt naked and ready to please me.  Understand boy?”

“Yes Boss,” I groaned and contemplated life as Dennis’s butt naked slave every day.  He appeared to see me as some form of life beneath human.  He seemed unconcerned that I was a man, evaluating me as a piece of flesh to be abused.  I was truly frightened of spending time alone with this man. 

As I contemplated this, I was brought back to reality by his deep voice.  “My cigarette needs putting out slave,” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, nodding to the burning stub on the floor.

I stepped sideways and bent down to pick up the cigarette stub.

He stuck out his leg and pushed me backwards with a kick, sending me sprawling backwards onto the cold floor.  “Not like that slave.  Use your foot to put it out,” he snarled.

Uncertainly, I raised myself and moved towards the lit cigarette on the concrete.  I closed my eyes and winced in pain as I crushed the lit cigarette under the sole of my bare foot, the indignity of my action hurting my pride as much as my foot.

Dennis grinned at my pained expression.  “I hope you aint thinking it is staying there slaveboy,” he barked as I jumped visibly.

Miserably, dejectedly, I knelt down and picked up the cigarette butt from the dirty floor.  Holding it in the palm of my hand, I came and stood naked before Dennis again and bowed my head.  Legs shaking and arms behind my back, I stood before him and bowed my head in submission.  I felt like a little boy in front of a stern teacher, waiting to be punished.

Dennis held out his hand and I dropped the butt into his pink outstretched palm.  Once more he chuckled, revelling in his power over me.  Silently and menacingly, he moved behind me, and my manhood shifted another gear away from me.  I felt his hands prying apart my arse cheeks, exposing my hole for the second time.  With a gentle push from Dennis, I grunted in horror.  I felt the butt being inserted into my arse hole.  I felt its warm gritty invasion inside me and I sobbed in desolation.  I just could not believe it.  The tears flowed freely down my face, mixing with the spit of my tormentor and pooling on the end of my nose and chin.

“Ssssh slaveboy!” the bastard whispered, inches from my inconsolable face.  He adopted a tone of mock concern, the way a parent would speak to a small scolded child.  “Ssssh!  Nothing to get upset about boy.  You is serving a purpose for yo Master boy.  When you is working down here with me boy, yo slave pussy is my ashtray from now on.  Keep that hole clamped shut now boy.  I will allow you to empty your pussy at the end of every day, but only when you get home slaveboy,” he growled menacingly.

“Yes Boss,” I shuddered, instinctively clamping my arsehole closed to hold in the cigarette butt and hating myself for my total submission to this sadist.  I reeled at his description of my arse.  I had always talked with my mates about pussy, about banging some pussy on a Saturday night.  And now I stood before a man who talked about my arse as his pussy.  It just seemed incomprehensible to think of me – Gary Walker, football hero, city executive, athletic stud boy – as a black man’s pussy.  I thought of my best mate Ben and what he would think if he knew I was now pussy meat, and my face burned in crushing defeat.

Dennis turned around towards Lewis and I saw a sly smile of delight creep over Lewis’s face.  He stepped up to me and stood before my naked body.  With a smile he snarled “No one ever shows any respect to Dennis.  But you will boy.  You will attend to his every need on a daily basis from now on boy.  I am sure he will have plenty more uses for a slave like you.”

He raised his eyebrows and pushed me down to my knees.  “Your duty to Dennis starts tomorrow boy.  This afternoon, you will run back to your apartment.”  I opened my mouth to tell him about not having the key, and silently he produced it from his back pocket.  “When I leave work, I will be coming around to your apartment.  When I arrive, I want to see you lying naked, face down on the floor, legs spread wide.  When you get back there, you will strip naked.  You will then work for the afternoon.  You will take all of your clothes and place them in piles on your bed.  All of them.  You will get any paperwork relating to your life – bills, bank accounts, passport, anything, and place them in a pile on the floor.  Do you understand me slave boy?”

“Yes Master,” I replied, feeling the rising cold from the rough basement floor in my bare feet.

“Get dressed and run home ashtray,” he shouted, reaching behind me and slapping my bare arse with a chuckle.

I hung my head as I dressed, two sets of eyes watching me cover my jock athletic body with my obscene dungarees.  The skin-tight fabric of the garment held the cigarette butt firmly in place up my arse chute.  I looked up shyly at Master and responded to his nod.  Desperate to escape the utter humiliation of the basement, I ran up the stairs and out of the building.  My naked feet slapping on the pavement of the city centre as I ran home through the cold, my mind reeling with the humiliations of another day.  A day that was far from over.

Any comments appreciated.

Chapter 10 ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

As soon as I arrived home, I stripped out of the slave dungarees and shook my head as I stared at the revolting garment that was to be my work clothing from now on.  I noticed with disgust the cheap fabric stained a darker colour around the genital area and the crack of my arse, where the sweat had soaked through on my run home from work.  I considered how fortunate I was that none of my neighbours had seen me enter the apartment.  This was a select neighbourhood, and generally filled with the higher echelons of city life.  I closed my eyes and considered my thoughts: I had to stop considering myself in those terms now.  I couldn’t see any way that my lifestyle would continue now that I was a caretaker’s assistant, and an unpaid one at that.  I sat up on the bed and looked around the apartment, kitted out as it was in the latest fashions, gadgets and accessories of a modern playboy.  It was beginning to feel that this wasn’t my place.  My mind seemed to be mentally adjusting itself to the downfall that seemed destined to be imminent.

I collapsed back down again, naked on the bed, and closed my weary eyes.  I reached down and grabbed my cock.  Since yesterday, my cock had seemed almost constantly exposed as it was now, hardly ever covered by any form of clothing.  I was becoming like an animal, my naked flesh always on display.  And when I was given permission to wear clothing, it was in the humiliating slave costume.   This seemed to have been the first moment when I was alone in my nudity, not displaying my intimate parts to another man.  I was glad to have a moment to myself, a moment to recover some normality on my own bed.  Normally at times such as this, alone with an hour to spare, I would take the time to play with myself.  Get my cock hard and manipulated.  Shoot my copious amounts of jockboy cum over my abs and chest before a shower. 

With a sudden sickening wrench, I sat bolt upright.  I realised that I still had a used cigarette butt up my arse.  How could I have forgotten ?  Just the thought of this horrific realisation, the thought as I lay on my own bed that I had been deflowered in such a barbaric way, made me feel sick.  I lay down onto my back again and raised my legs in the air, feeling my semi-hard cock go flaccid against my stomach as I contemplated how I would remove the cigarette butt.  Carefully, the distaste etched on my face, I moved my fingers to my arsehole and pushed one finger into my tight hole, feeling around inside my own arse chute for a cigarette butt.  Dennis had done his job well, and the run home had clearly pushed the butt further up my chute.  I could not even feel it.  I closed my eyes in frustration, and clenched my teeth in rage at this invasion of my manhood.  With a sigh, I moved a smaller finger towards my hole.

At the sound of a voice, I jumped in shock and pulled my hands away from my stretched arse.  “Get your hands out of your arsehole boy,” a deep voice intoned.  In shock, I pushed my legs down abruptly, and sat up.  George, the doorman, was stood at the foot of my bed, watching me spread legs in the air, playing with my arse.  I clambered quickly to the side of the bed, covered my genitals with my hands and stood there naked.

For the first time today, I regained some semblance of manhood.  “What the fuck you doing in here George?  How dare you come into my apartment like this.  Get the fuck out of here.  I will be speaking to your superiors about this.  You cant just come into people’s apartments like this.”

Though I felt the humiliation of standing before George naked, I felt sickened that he had seen me splayed on the bed, legs wide and hand groping my arsehole.  And my anger at everything that had happened to me spilled out.

“I’ll have you sacked for this George.  Get the fuck out of my apartment” I screamed as I moved towards him.  A moment of manhood in an otherwise obedient day.

He stared impassively at me.  “I don’t think the privacy of a slave is something that I need to worry about,” he sneered.

I looked at him in horror.  The whole world seemed to be aware of my misery.  The whole world seemed in on this determined attempt to see me debased into slavery.  There was no escape, not even in my own apartment.

“I’ve just been contacted by your owner, Master Lewis.  He told me to come up here and supervise you boy.  He’s giving me some nice wages to do so too!  I’ve offered to be your supervisor on a regular basis.  So, you see, it’s ME that has been speaking to YOUR superiors slaveboy.  He wanted me to make sure that you empty your ashtray of an arse properly.”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his mobile phone.  Flipping it open he looked at me.  “Shall I ring him and tell him you have shouted at me?  Tell him you got angry with me for entering your apartment?”

I couldn’t believe it.  I simply couldn’t believe it.  I was even enslaved in my own apartment, and there was nothing I could do about it.  He wouldn’t even allow me a few hours alone in peace where I could rest and recover from my constant humiliations.  I had no dignity left, even here in the sanctity of my own home.  With sharp tears stinging my eyes, I gritted my teeth and sank to my knees.  “No, please don’t,” I murmured.  “Please don’t George.”

I looked at him and he closed his telephone.  He paused and stared at my body, making no attempt to hide his interest in my flesh.   “Take your hands away so I can see your cock boy.  And my name to you from now on is not George boy.  I am your superior now.  Here to stop you being a naughty boy.  You can call me Daddy from now on boy.”

Slowly, obediently, I stood up again, fixed my face into the grim expression of a slave and moved my hands to my sides to reveal my genitals to George.  He whistled and tutted.  “An old guy like me don’t get many opportunities like this boy.  I intend to enjoy myself.”

Daddy?  What the fuck?  He smiled and took off his jacket, enjoying the obvious distress and adrenaline rush of his sudden total power over me.  He came back towards me with a dining chair and sat himself down on it.  And as he did so, he rested what appeared to be a thin cane on the bed in front of him.  With his forefinger, he motioned for me to come towards him.

“You’ve been a naughty boy haven’t you?” he stated.

I was speechless.  I had no dignity left.  “Yes ….. Daddy,” I whimpered.  This scene felt completely perverted.  I was in the position of a naked young boy, about to be scolded and punished by my father.  I wondered what my friends at the football club would think if they saw me so humiliated, naked in front of an old black guy who I was forced to call “Daddy”.

“Better come over Daddy’s knee then for your just rewards,” he continued.  No hint of the kind, elderly gentleman who had always treated me with such respect.

Hesitantly, I moved towards him and positioned myself at the side of his chair.  He patted his knee and I moved myself over his lap.  A position I had never considered a guy like me would find myself in, ever.  I lay across his lap, legs one side and my upper torso the other.  I gasped as I felt him reach between my legs and pull my cock and scrotum out from under me, feeling it exposed to his eyes and vulnerable to his hands as he pulled it backwards between my legs.

He ran his hand down my back and over my bare buttocks and I heard him sigh.

“You will count out each stroke for Daddy, and then thank Daddy for punishing you boy, understand?”

“Yes Daddy,” I whispered in shock.

I lay there whimpering as I felt him playing with my buttocks, and then lean forward to pick up his cane.

Wordlessly, he lashed the cane across my buttocks with a force that I had not expected.  I cried out in anguish and closed my eyes in distress.

“One Daddy.  Thank you for punishing me Daddy,” I moaned, through gritted teeth, as I watched the shadow of the second cane come down on my naked arse.

Chapter 11 ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

At the fiftieth stroke I was a sobbing wreck.  I had never felt such pain and my arse throbbed in burning anger at my punishment.  Calmly, George laid the cane onto my bed and slapped my arse hard – needlessly – with his hand.  “Get up boy,” he crooned.

I stood before him, and my hands moved onto my burning buttocks in distress.  I stood there red faced and red arsed - tears streaming down my cheeks.  I could never consider myself to be a man again after submitting to this disgusting scenario.

Through tear-misted eyes I watched as George, Daddy, stood before me and brushed my sweat-tousled hair away from my forehead.  “There, there baby boy.  Now tell Daddy what it is up baby’s bottom.”

I stared at him but did not have the enthusiasm or energy to argue.  He knew what it was.  He was in on my slavery.  He was part of the gang who were out to destroy every part of my former life.  As ever, my role was to go along with the situation.  To submit without question.  I was the butt of the joke: a pensioner was laughing at me as I stood naked before him, head bowed with a complete lack of any dignity left in me.  I sighed and whimpered “A cigarette butt Daddy”.

George raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, clearly enjoying his game of humiliation over me.  “Well let’s get it out then little boy.  Dear, dear, some men are so clumsy where they leave their cigarette butts these days.”

He grabbed me by the arm and turned me around to face the bed, before telling me to kneel on all fours on the bed.  I knelt there, head down on the quilt, my arse on prominent display to him with my cock and balls swinging between my legs.

I flinched in pain as he ran his hands across my exposed arse, the painful stripes tender to the slightest touch.  Mercilessly, he smacked me hard and I screamed down flat on the bed.  “Please!  Please don’t” I squealed.

“Get up now boy before I give you fifty more,” he growled at me, and I slowly raised my abused arse back upwards.  “Now hold still whilst I get this out boy,” he stated.  “It may be uncomfortable but you will not move.”

With one steady push, I grunted as I felt him push the thin cane into my arsehole, and felt it slide remorselessly up my chute until it encountered the butt.  I clenched my fists and sank my teeth into the quilt to prevent myself shouting in agony as he prodded and pushed inside me.  After a few minutes in which he was clearly enjoying his assault on my vulnerable arse, I felt the offending object pop out of my arse with the cane.  George chuckled in delight and grabbed my swinging genitals.  With a sharp tug downwards, he laughed and shouted “Up we get baby boy.”

I stood and looked at him, and looked down at the shit-stained butt on the floor.  “Looks like baby has not cleaned his arse properly.  We will have to sort that out, make sure slaveboy is clean for his Masters.  Now, go and empty that down the toilet.  And whilst you are at it, clean the shit off this cane.  You also need to wipe the backs of your legs as well.”

I walked, slightly bow-legged, into the bathroom and completed the humiliating tasks silently and quickly.  I stared at my haunted and haggard face in the bathroom mirror, shaking my head in amazement.  Where had the successful, handsome executive gone to?  What had become of me?  I turned my arse to the mirror to see the damage caused to the part of me that most hurt.  It revealed a mess of red, angry marks that burnt across my skin.

I cursed George inwardly and walked back into the bedroom.  He was putting on his jacket and closing his mobile phone.  “Your Master is due back in just over one hour he tells me.  He wants you to have completed your tasks.  So get on with it slaveboy.”  And without a backwards glance, he picked up his cane and left.

It didn’t take me too long to complete my assigned tasks.  I was a well organised guy and had all of my financial information in a file.  I shuddered to think what Lewis would do with this, but I knew that he would be having full access to my belongings anyway and it would only lead to trouble if I tried to hide anything from him.  I turned to my clothes, and started the task of making piles of my clothing.  Taking them off their hangers and out of their drawers and stacking them on my bed, ready for Lewis’s inspection.  My athletic wear, my smart casual wear, my trendy nightclub gear and my work suits were piled separately, and then my underwear.  I looked at the piles of my clothing and sighed.  I wondered when next I would be allowed to wear my suit jackets or expensive club gear.  No doubt this action was all a waste of my time, and I would be returning all of my gear into the wardrobe again when he had inspected it all.

Finally finished, I sat down on the floor next to the bed, mopping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand.  I lay for a moment on my back, closed my eyes and felt the drowsiness of sleep.  With a shot I sat myself upright again.  I didn’t know what time Lewis would be coming around and didn’t want him having an excuse to beat me.  I was exhausted from the strains of my day and just wanted to rest.  Falling asleep in any unauthorised place would not have been a wise move though.  And so the best solution seemed to be to do as Lewis had commanded me, and get into my slave position and wait. 

I cursed myself for my submission as I stood up and padded into the hallway.  I lay down and prostrated myself face down on the hall floor.  And, arms and legs spread in a wide X,  I lay naked on the cold stone floor and waited for my tormentor to arrive home from work.  Arrive home to my apartment.  My mind dozed in and out of sleep as I lay there, pathetic and humble like a truly controlled slave on the floor of my own apartment.  Not changing my position, spreadeagled face down and feeling the burning in my arse.

Finally, my stomach fluttered in anxiety as I heard the unlocked door to my apartment being opened, and saw Lewis’s shoes appear in front of me on the floor.  I lay still and held my breath as he walked around me, stopping to run the sole of his shoe over my abused arse and chuckle.  He did not speak.  He simply disappeared into the apartment and I heard him progress into the bedroom, no doubt to check my work.

Naked and spreadeagled, I lay and listened.  The sounds of a normal guy coming home from work, and getting himself ready for a relaxing evening.  A normal domestic scene.  I heard him open my refrigerator and crack open a bottle of beer then carry on with his business.

A normal domestic scene.  Normal except for the fact that he had another human being, another man, lay naked in the hallway waiting silently for his master’s voice. 

I lay expectantly, waiting for a command that did not come.  He came into the hallway and kicked off his shoes without acknowledgement, before returning to the living room and switching on the TV.  I heard him fix himself something to eat and sit down to eat, and I heard my own stomach grumble in complaint that I had not even had an opportunity to eat today.  I licked my lips and imagined Lewis with his food and his beer.  A luxury that I could not even consider at the moment, lay naked in the draughty hallway.

My confused mind tried to make sense of the situation as I lay there unmoving and alone, spreadeagled naked like a piece of furniture on the cold floor.  I was unsure if I should remain here.  He was completely ignoring me, treating me as if I was a doormat that did not deserve acknowledgement.  The minutes ticked on and I became more and more uncomfortable at this utter waste of my time, this total lack of regard for me even being a human being.  He could just leave me like this, spread naked, just because he said so and I was expected to lie and wait for his command.  He could completely ignore me and I would still remain still, mute, waiting.  I was no longer a man, I was a piece of his owned property.  Waiting to be told when I could move.  I heard him get up from his seat and go through to the bedroom, closing the door behind him.  And still I lay there, unmoving.  Out of his sight, but still waiting and yearning for his command to get up.

Chapter 12 ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

I lost track of time, lying there in naked misery.  My body stiff in its X as the wind blew under the doorway and over my exposed flesh.  It was sometime later that the bedroom door opened again and he came into the hallway, casually dressed in my best jeans and one of my shirts.  He threw an item at me and barked “Get dressed.”

Painfully, stiffly, I moved and dragged myself up.  I looked at the item that he had thrown at me.   It was my blue jockstrap, the one I wore under my shorts at weight training and running classes.  I pulled it on over my genitals, for once thankful that my arse cheeks were to be left bare for a while, and walked into the bedroom after Lewis.

At the foot of the bed were several full refuse sacks.  I looked on the bed and quickly realised that the sacks contained almost all of my clothing.  A few selected items lay in a pile on the bed, but most of it had disappeared into the sacks.  At the side of these items was the file of my documents.  The documents that filed the details of my life, now in Lewis’s hands.  Everything.  Everything that signalled my identity as a human being was there in a plastic wallet, in Lewis’s hands.  Looking through the transparent plastic of the document wallet, I noticed in dismay that he had also thrown in my wallet, my house keys and my mobile phone.  He had everything.  I had no belongings left.  Nothing that I could call mine.

Lewis allowed me to notice his work around the room, before stating bluntly “slaves have no need for clothes.”   I turned to him in anguish and confusion, feeling my whole life disappear into his hands.  “I will decide what you wear, if you wear anything.”

I hung my head.  Defeated.

“I have kept a few items for myself, and a few simple necessities, but otherwise you have no need for clothes.  So we are going into town to drop these at the charity shop.  They are about to have a very good day !  Come on slave, we don’t have much time,” he continued and picked up his car keys.

I couldn’t believe I was about to give away my clothes.  All of them.  I would own only my slave dungarees and this blue jockstrap.  Everything else was going.  It seemed unreal.  It simply could not be happening.  My mind was in turmoil but my mouth remained unable to form any meaningful protest, and I moved towards the sacks and paused in horror.  This was my life.  In his hands.  I prayed this nightmare would soon end and he would release me from this constant control.  I pulled myself together quickly, grabbing the four sacks and followed Master out of the room.  He paused to admire his shirt in the mirror and slipped on his sunglasses, as I stood laden with sacks and almost naked, waiting for him to groom himself.

“Come on,” he snarled and opened the door to the apartment, motioning me out.

“Master, I am only wearing a jockstrap,” I reminded him.

“And?  Your little cock is covered.  That’s all that needs covering in public.  You will only be walking across a pavement and into a shop from the car.  Get out slave.”

I wailed in panic.  “Please Master.  My neighbours.  The police.  I cant go out like this.  My caned arse is on display Sir, please …”

“GET OUT!” he shouted.

We passed a smiling George in the hallway as we exited the apartment block.  We must have looked a sight: the confident, smartly dressed Lewis dressed in his finery and wearing his dark sunglasses, keys to my sports car in his hand.  And behind him, laden down with sacks containing my former clothes,the almost naked slaveboy in only his jockstrap, barefoot and with caned arse on full display.   We moved out into the late afternoon sunshine, and walked down the path towards my sports car, my head bowed in torment at the prospect of a neighbour seeing me dressed in this obscene way.

At the car, Lewis pressed the remote and opened the locks before moving around and opening the rear boot of the car.  I dumped the bags inside and stood there, the goosebumps rising on my exposed flesh and my mind screaming at him to allow me inside the car.

“Get in then,” he growled.

I looked at him in confusion.

“The boot is for luggage.  For objects.  You are not a person.  Get in the boot slave,” he continued.  “I don’t want to be seen in public with you.”

An object, not a person.  I climbed into the boot of the car and cowered there as he stood above me.  He looked down and raised his – my – expensive sunglasses to show me his eyes.  They twinkled in delight as he beheld me crouching and squashed, eyes wide in terror, like an animal in the boot.

“And whilst you are in there, you may want to consider this.  I am not entirely merciless slave boy.  Once you have given away all of your clothes, I am allowing one aspect of your life to continue this evening.”

Crouched there in the boot amongst the refuse sacks, I looked up at him.  A glimmer of hope crossed my eyes and I looked up expectantly, gratefully, at the prospect of some relief.

“You will be going to football practice as normal,” he smiled.  And with a chuckle he slammed down the boot.

I crouched in the darkness and considered his words in horror.  How could I go to football ?  My hair shaved to a stubble, my arse shredded to pieces and wracked in pain ?  I could not tell my fuck story as they would demand – I could not buy a pint, being now completely without access to any form of money -  and what is worse I knew for sure that the story of my humiliation at the office today would have got around.  Not to mention Anna having mentioned our break up to some of the guys’ girlfriends.  How could I possibly go to football practice ?  I would be a freak, a laughing stock.  I could not imagine playing my normal role of confident leader and jock.  It didn’t seem right now somehow.  I shuddered as the ramifications of those horrible thoughts hit home: the thought that it didn’t seem right for me to be a confident jock anymore.

I closed my eyes as I heard the engine burst into life, and the sound of music – Lewis’s music – blaring through my car stereo.  Resigned to imminent exposure in public, I resolved to plead with Lewis to allow me to miss football practice.  And as the car lurched away, I braced my exhausted fingers and toes against the sides of the car.  A humble slaveboy crouched desolately in the boot of his car. 

Thankfully, I didn’t realise the other dreadful appointment that awaited me prior to football practice.

Chapter 13  ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

Of course I had never been to the charity shop.  I had never needed to go into the cheaper shops on the edge of town.  As the car sped through the streets, with me locked in my jockstrap in the boot, I tried to envisage exactly where I would be running: running virtually naked across the pavement and into the shop.  I tried to understand in my head how it could possibly have reached a stage where I was prepared to do this ridiculous task.  To accept it as part of my life.

Suddenly, I felt the car pull up and the engine stop.  From his position in the driver’s seat, Lewis shouted “The shop is around the corner from here boy.  Get out and give them your clothes then climb back into the boot again.”

He was not even getting out of his seat.  No doubt he would have a prime view of my humiliation from where he sat, a good opportunity to laugh at my continued demise as I ran naked to give my clothes away to charity.  He clicked the release catch on the car and the bonnet flew open, sending a sharp blast of the cold wind over my cramped body.  Shaking uncontrollably – in fear rather than cold – I stepped gingerly out of the boot and found myself in a small side street.  Ahead of the car, I could see a busy road with cars and a bus passing the gap ahead of me.  Miserably, I considered the fact that it must now have been between 4 and 5pm, and was clearly a busy time of day.

Adrenaline pumped through me as I took a deep breath and picked up the bags.  With a run, I headed for the gap at the top of the alley, my brain screaming for me to stop, the pulses in my temples pounding with fear and my legs shaking.  I turned onto the high street and looked right, then left.  In the blur of noise and people, my eyes were not working correctly and my mind was panicking, hyperventilating in this ridiculous situation.  Stood like some freakish Tarzan, wearing a jockstrap on a main road as it approached rush hour on a Monday afternoon.

A smartly dressed man in a business suit glared at me in disgust, shaking his head at my appearance and making a large semi circle around me so as not to be associated with this ridiculous naked creature that was only days ago a business man like him.  Days ago but a lifetime ago, I reflected. 

“The red light district is up that way love,” an overweight woman around the same age as myself shouted, looking me up and down and laughing aloud to her friend as she walked by.  “How much do you charge?”

I looked down at my bare feet and then jumped as a double decker bus passed yards in front of me.  I noticed a group of teenage girls pointing at me and shrieking with laughter.  I was an object of ridicule.  I was rooted to the spot, visually searching for the shop and afraid to move in the wrong direction.

I shot forward as I felt someone touch my exposed arse cheeks from behind me.  I turned and saw a group of lads, in their early twenties.  They grinned as I turned in panic and met their accusing stares with a frightened glance.  “Alright pretty boy?  Somebody been spanking your arse have they?” shouted a large biker-type, dressed all in black leather.

People everywhere.  Not one of them showing sympathy for my plight.  All of them content to judge me: pervert, sexual deviant, figure of fun.  Not me.  Not the real person that I am.  That I was. 

Suddenly, from out of the mists of panic, I saw the charity shop across the street.  Barefoot, jock-strapped, I ran into the road, and dodged the still traffic queuing at the lights, running up to the shop and flying inside.

I ran to the counter and shoved the bags down quickly.  “These are for you,” I shouted, hiding my red crimson face as best as I could, before turning and exiting as quickly as possible, giving them no doubt a clear view of my cane-striped arse.  And I left my entire collection of clothes to be sold in a shop that I would never have even considered entering only last week.  It flashed across my mind that the blue jock strap I was wearing was one of my only possessions now and - as the horror of this seeped into my brain – I crashed into a man, feeling the warm fabric of his clothing against my skin.  I bumped off him and crashed down onto the pavement.  Without the bags to hide at least some of my flesh, I felt even more naked as I lay sprawled on the floor of the high street.

“Hey! Watch out,” he cried before turning and seeing my ridiculous appearance.  “What the fuck …… Fuck me, Gary is that you?” he gasped, mouth open in amazement.

I looked up and met the eyes of James, midfielder for the football team and one of my social mates.  I yelped in utter despair, backing away from him on the floor before glancing around to get my bearings.  For a second I looked around and the whole world seemed to be staring at me.   James, the people on the pavement, the passengers in cars and a bus on the road.  All staring at naked boy on the floor.  The second etched into my brain before I scrambled to my feet and ran like a startled rabbit, past the beeping horn of a group of girls in a car and down the alleyway back down to the safety of my Master, the safety of my boot.  I no longer cared that James and the rest of the world looked at my sprinting caned arse with bewilderment as the naked man disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.  I just ran as fast as I could to return to slavery.

With one desperate scramble, I leapt into the darkness of the boot and closed the bonnet above me.  I closed my eyes and felt the beating of my heart in my ears, the deafening silence of the boot contrasting with the inner drum beats of panic and adrenaline.  My chest heaved and I felt the hairs on my body standing on end.  There was more room now in the boot, now that my clothing had been disposed of, and I turned my face down to the floor.  In sheer relief, I let the tears flow freely as Master’s car sped away.

We drove for five minutes.  Five minutes in which my heart rate slowed and my breath returned to normal.  Five minutes in which my cheeks continued to glow in the burning shame of having run in such a shameful way in public.  Now that James had seen me, I could only fear what the other guys at rugby would think when they heard about the new Gary.

I heard the handbrake pulled on and the engine die, and instinctively knew that we were not yet home.  I also knew that – wherever we were – it would spell further trouble for me.  I heard the car door slam and the crunch of Lewis’s boots on gravel as he moved away from the car.  Leaving me locked cramped in the boot.

Curled up as I was, imprisoned in the boot, I wished I could stay there, hidden from the eyes of accusing people, the mind of my fiendish captor.  However, five minutes later I heard the crunch of boots again, and the boot flew open.  I looked up at Lewis.  He smiled and laughed softly.

“I need to go and supervise some work that I am having done at my new apartment,” he stated.  “Whilst I am gone, you will be spending an hour getting pampered here boy.  This is the first time I have had my slave in public.  You had better not let me down slave.  Understand?”

“Yes Master,” I whimpered.

“Open your mouth,” snarled Lewis.  I did so and he pushed a pill into my mouth before telling me to get out of the car.  “Follow me.”

I followed him across a gravelled car park, the gravel digging into my bare feet, and around the side of a building.  We walked across a pavement in a normal suburban area and into a shop.  I followed behind Master into what appeared to be some sort of grooming salon, though the occupants were all male.  As a straight jock boy, I always used proper male barber shops.  Expensive but male.  I looked in distaste as a very effeminate man minced over to Lewis and started to simper at him.  Lewis joined in the banter as I looked around at a guy who was having his hair cut, and wondered what I was doing here.  I had no hair any more, only stubble.

“This is my slave Pierre,” Lewis stated moving aside and looking at me.  “I will be back for him in an hour.”

“O yes Lewis.  Quite a hunk isn’t he?” minced the gay boy, eyeing me up and down like a piece of meat.

Lewis turned and exited and I stood facing the queer, unsure of what to do.

Chapter 14 ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

Lewis chuckled as he closed the door behind him, leaving his slave to begin the next stage of his emasculation.  His Master Plan was working perfectly and Gary’s destruction was working a treat.  The arrogant bastard would never again look down on him and Lewis had got himself a real slave boy in the bargain.  He intended that Gary would be enslaved deeper and deeper over the coming months until he was completely broken.  A total slave in every meaning of the word.  He adjusted his hardening cock in his jeans – turning the arrogant straight jock boy into a slave was all that he needed to satisfy his sadistic tendencies.  But he also had friends like Dennis and George who would be helping him along the way.

Lewis was a smart guy.  He had always known that the blackmail video of Gary fucking the girl would only act as a trap to catch Gary, and carry out the initial stages of enslavement.   It wasn’t enough to keep Gary enslaved once the immediate shock of his slavery had disappeared,  When Gary began to live the life of a slave on a permanent basis, he needed a reason to remember that his slavery was not open to discussion, and that the police were not an option open to him.   Gary was already reaching a situation where it would be preferable to go to prison rather than remain a slave and Lewis knew he needed further guarantees to ensure that Gary remained the dutiful slaveboy that he needed him to be.

Lewis strolled down to the flats only a few hundred yards from the grooming salon.  He entered the basic hallway and wrinkled his nose at the smell of stale urine and the vomit in the corner.  The escalator was broken and so Lewis climbed the stairs to Dennis’s third floor apartment.  With a cursory knock, he turned the handle and entered the small apartment, leaving the mean corridor behind him.

Dennis chose to live in his own neighbourhood.  Where he was feared and respected.  He had the large villa in Spain and the trappings of wealth that would allow him to retire into luxury at 40.  But at the moment, he was happy to live in the flat where he grew up with his brothers and mother. 

Lewis and Dennis were no classmates at school.  They were never friends.  Lewis had discovered Dennis’s sideline as a city gangleader – a big name in the black market that underpinned any major city – quite by accident when he uncovered some illegal substances stored in the basement.  No one ever went down to the basement area.  No one went there but Lewis, who was constantly seeking new avenues to raise money for the business.  Only Lewis, constantly looking for ways to improve his position in the business, could stumble across Dennis’s ill-gotten gains.

Their initial argument had turned into an interesting discussion.  Lewis was made to realise that Dennis was a good man to have on his side.  Dennis could do things for Lewis.  Dennis had contacts.  His role as caretaker was a front: an alibi.  It gave him a place to store his gear, a place to exchange gear.  It gave him an alibi for his whereabouts during the day.  It gave him a meeting place.

Dennis had offered Lewis stolen gear, but Lewis’s fiendish mind had realised that he would prefer to steal something else.  He would prefer to steal the freedom of Gary.  Unshakeable, Dennis had listened with interest to Lewis’s wishes and together they had formed the plan that would wreck the life of Gary.  It had been easy for Dennis to arrange for one of his call girls to be fucked by Gary.  It had been easy to use his uncle George as an accomplice in the plot.  It was now easy for Dennis to use his legal contacts to erase Gary’s life – his financial records, his health records, his property – and transfer any assets into Lewis’s name.  Gary no longer had a car or a house: both had been signed over to Lewis that very afternoon using Dennis’s contacts in the right places.

Dennis was only too happy to comply.  He would have a continued storage place that was safe from the police, he would have some proceeds from Gary’s former life of luxury and he would also have his own piece of white male flesh that he could use in as many ways as he wished.  Dennis was straight to the world, but he had a bisexual tendency that needed satisfying.  Gary represented an opportunity to carry out his sexual fantasies in every way over the coming months and years.  He was also a useful acquisition for any potential clients who would enjoy fucking former  straight white jock boys.  It could easily be a deal clincher in Dennis’s line of business.

Lewis and Dennis smiled at the display that Dennis had lovingly created on the wall of his spare bedroom.  Their preparation had been thorough but now looked so worthwhile.  The videocam stills of Gary naked in his office, the pictures of him crawling naked from under his desk.  The pictures of him kneeling naked in the bathroom and in the basement.  His obscene costumes as he ran through the city’s streets and the company’s offices and even the stills taken by Dennis’s man on the high street only twenty minutes ago. 

All of these pictures painted a picture of a sexual deviant, an exhibitionist, a freak.  They were all devastating evidence of Gary’s perverted existence, should he wish to protest against his treatment. 

But even this was not enough.  Lewis smiled and crouched down to look at the crowning glory.  The pictures that had been taken in the middle of the night last night from the inside of Gary’s family home.  Taken by Dennis’s employee.  The home of his parents and his 10 year old brother.  There was Gary’s parents fast asleep in bed, there was little Jonathan asleep in his bedroom.  Both snapped using a professional camera to ensure there was no doubt in Gary’s mind.  They knew exactly how to reach his family.

The final pieces would be put into place this afternoon.  Gary would accompany Lewis to this very flat to meet Dennis and be told the real identity of his new boss, and learn how his future was destined to be total slavery.  And if he wanted to go to the police?  Well fine !  But any freedom that he gained would be tempered with the loss of his family.  Dennis’s henchmen would see to that.

Lewis stood up and grinned at Dennis.  They had done it.  It had all fallen into place.  Lewis was sure that Gary would soon know his true place was one of a slave.  For the sake of his family, he would be forced to forget about what he once was.  Better to live as a slave than submit his family to what could happen.

Chapter 15  ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

Pierre the gay tosser was beneath contempt as far as I was concerned.  I didn’t usually speak to queers: me and the football guys had a good laugh at their expense on many an occasion.  On a night out, I did a good impression of a bender with my mate Ben, as we mimicked various poofs that we knew.  I had always thanked God that I was a red blooded handsome male, rugged and manly and straight.  And so as I watched Lewis leave the shop and leave me stood in this alien environment, my eyes turned to Pierre and I felt a sneer of contempt on my face.  He waited until Lewis had exited the shop and then turned to me.  With a distinctly different tone that showed I was completely unworthy of any respect, the queer shouted “You can get in that corner boy, stand with your face to the wall until we are ready for you.”

He pointed to a corner and I hesitated.  I didn’t take orders from faggots like him.  I made to move and then stopped fleetingly.  I thought of telling him to “fuck off” but I knew that Lewis would make me regret it if I did.  My arse cheeks were testimony to what happened when I tried to rebel.  And so, resentfully, I swaggered across there to the corner.  I know that the reader will feel I had no reason to swagger in the position I find myself in as a slave, but it made me superior to the faggot.  I am superior.  I am in a dodgy situation but I am still 100% hetero male British Beef ! 

I stood there, head facing the corner and simmered with rage at my treatment as the conversation in this ridiculous shop continued, and someone commented loudly on my “cute striped arse”.  Given half an opportunity, I intended to tell this cocksucker what I thought of queers like him, even if he was doing whatever it was that he would do.  I felt angry that I was being treated as the inferior in such a feminine environment.  It would be interesting to see how they coped with grooming me, whatever the hell that meant.

I stood there for at least five minutes, like a  naughty boy in the corner, aching to rub my exposed and sore arse cheeks as they continued to burn but determined not to draw attention to myself.  I could imagine the queers were already eying up my exposed body as I stood there in only my jock strap. 

I moved my hand to my brow.  It was getter hotter in here.  I could feel my body swaying.  My vision started to blur and I suddenly thought of the pill that Lewis had given me.  With a crash, I fell backwards in a heap.

When I came around, my blurred vision looked up at Lewis, looking down at me with a contented look on his face.  I was awake and time had clearly passed.  Confused, I felt my head jerk to the side as he slapped me across my cheek.  “Enough rest boy!  You’ve got a few minutes slave before we leave so get yourself awake.”

He turned to the queerboy, who simpered around him and fawned as Lewis handed him a bundle of notes.  “I will book him for this time every week, so you can finish your depilation treatment programme.  I will pay you weekly.”

Depilation?  What did he mean depilation treatment?

My head lolled to the side like a drunkard and the queer grasped it in his hand and pushed me back onto the seat.  Depilation ?  Didn’t that mean `hair removal’ ?He giggled and I heard him murmur “He’s in for quite a shock I would say Sir!”

I opened my eyes and looked pleadingly at Lewis, wondering what the hell he had done to me now.  I met Lewis’s eyes and knew from their sparkle that he had performed some other humiliation on me that would no doubt drag me further down into the life of slavery that he had planned.

My cockiness from earlier had gone and I no longer felt the confident jock in a room of sissies.  He slapped me across the other cheek and barked “Listen up slave.  Listen to Pierre as he tells you about the treatment he has done on you.”

Pierre stepped forward as I slouched in the chair and pulled me upwards so that I was upright.  With a flourish, he pulled away the white sheet that covered me and I stared uncomprehendingly at the full length mirror in front of me.  I shook my head in disbelief, wondering if the drugs were hallucinogenic as I looked at my naked body.

“The depilation laser treatment will be sore for a few weeks boy, but once we have finished in 6 weeks time you will not need to repeat it.  You will be permanently hairless.  And it wont have any chance to grow back between each treatment, so you are with immediate effect hairless for life boy.  You wont feel hair on your body ever again.  Good job don’t you think Lewis?”

Lewis ran his hands down my smooth chest and stomach, then up my arms.  He also rubbed down my smooth legs in approval and smirked at my horrified expression.  “Looks as naked as the day he was born,” he countered.  “Nice smooth body and legs for my bitch boy.”

“His crack, arse and balls are also permanently shaved,” Pierre beamed.

I stared at my denuded body.  I had not thought it possible to feel more naked than I had when stood in front of Dennis and George today, when lying under my desk in my former office.  But this was a different level of nudity.  I reeled at his comment.  Permanently hairless.  My chest hair, my trail of hair running up to my abs, my armpit hair.  My masculine hairy legs.  All gone.  Forever.  Like a bitch.  Like a woman.

“Now for under his jockstrap,” Pierre stated, moving around to the side and allowing a muscular bearded man to come in and witness the continued mutilation of my once straight and athletic jock body.  A casual observer of the destruction of my body as a normal male.  Pierre grabbed both sides of the front of my jock and pulled down the front of my jock with a flourish.  “Da daaah! “ he sang.

I felt the bile in the pit of my stomach rise as I looked at my pubis.  It had always been a dense patch of black hair, but now it was an abomination.  Above my cock was a small triangle of pink-dyed hair, obscenely pointing downwards towards my newly shaved genitalia.   And the rest of my pubis, other than the pink triangle, was as smooth and hairless as the rest of my body.  As the bearded man whistled through his teeth and commented that I looked a “pretty boy”, I felt my breath constrict in shallow sobs as I continued to consider that this was now my body, permanently.  No matter if I did ever escape this new life, I would still never escape what had been done to me in the last hour.  I would never feel my hairy chest or legs or groin again.

Pierre paused to let us look at the freak show that was now my own abused body, before he continued to pull down my jock.  Words cannot describe my feelings as I looked at the word OWNED tattooed downwards on the outward facing shaft of my penis in bold black print.  And then the revulsion as my cock was popped out of its pouch to reveal a large silver ring piercing the end of my cock.

Lewis reached down and hooked his finger in the ring, pulling my cock upwards and lifting my arse cheeks off the seat as I felt the unfamiliar feel of the ring in my flesh.  “Be careful, it’s a deep piercing.  Will take a few days to heal.  I suggest you don’t use it for anything too extreme for a few days,” Pierre cautioned.  I looked at him, but he was talking to Lewis and not me.  Lewis used my cock, not me.

“Excellent Pierre, I am really …” Lewis smiled and he ruffled my shaved head.

“Don’t forget his other tattoo,” Pierre interrupted and he held up a barber’s mirror to show me the tattoo on the back of my neck.  There, clearly, was a black and white bar code with numbers written underneath.  “Just check we got your mobile phone number correct,” Pierre frowned.

“Yes that’s right.  He wont get lost,” Lewis beamed.

I had been permanently bar coded with Lewis’s mobile number across my neck.  For the rest of my life.  An owned piece of property to be tagged.  For life.

There was nothing for me to say as I stood up behind Master, running my hands over my newly denuded body in shock and feeling the weight of my penis piercing in my jockstrap.  I felt lower than I had ever felt.  I felt utterly owned and degraded.  I felt like a man bitch, hairless, pink pubed and sporting a cock piercing.  I looked like a gay nancy boy.  The feelings of superiority had gone and I had succumbed in this feminine environment.

And then for the first time it struck me with a sickening realisation.  My utter degradation and ownership would lead to me becoming a sexual slave.  This was not just about work as a slave and about humiliation on a daily basis.  He intended that I was a sex object to be used.  As I stared at the gay boy in front of me and looked sheepishly at my Master, I curled my bare toes on the floor.  Surely he would not make me a gay boy ?

Lewis turned around to face me and threw a bag at me.  “Get dressed,” he barked.  I reached into the bag and pulled out its belongings.  Shakily, I dressed in the white skin-tight t shirt, the light blue tight fitting shorts and the blue football socks.  I felt my heart sink as I recognised that this was what Lewis intended me to wear at football practice.  I tried to focus on my need to beg him for mercy and to be allowed to miss football practice when I left the shop.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror.  My skin tight costume, buzzed head and hairless body made me look like a freak.  Self-consciously, I rubbed my hand across the back of my neck, where Lewis’s mobile number was prominently on display. 

There was no way I could go to football practice like this.  I was no longer a straight looking jock boy, I now looked like a gay faggot.  The sort of faggot that we always loved to ridicule as a football team.

Chapter 16 ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

Having been dragged from the gay salon, my mutilated body exposed to the world under my minimal football kit, I listened in horrified stupor in the apartment of Master Dennis.  Lewis took great delight in parading me naked in my newly denuded and humiliated slave fashion accessories for the laughing Dennis.   I cringed naked before these two overwhelmingly straight and fully dressed guys, and felt the degradation of being a total slave. 

Finally, I stood naked with legs spread and hands on my stubbled head.  I listened in sickening misery to the full story of Lewis’s master plan, and the true identity of Dennis.  I saw the pictures of my transformation from city analyst to naked property displayed on the obscene wall of shame that Dennis had created. 

I cried openly at the sight of my little brother and parents, and nodded my head in understanding that, for their sakes, I could never again be free.  I listened in horror as Dennis outlined how my parents would be killed and my brother tortured and killed if I ever tried to escape, if I ever tried to disappear or reveal my slavery to the authorities.  My mind resolved that I would never put my family at risk:  I had to accept that I was a victim now, a slave for the rest of my life, and that I would never again be free.  I had to accept and agree that my life as a free jock boy was over.  From now on, Lewis owned me and he could do as he wished with me.  I didn’t like it, and I knew that there would be degradations that I couldn’t envisage ever accepting.  But I would be forced to submit, and forced to become the obedient, humble slave that they expected me to be.  I had no freedom now.

I stood stony-faced, head bowed, naked; knees shaking in terror at the realisation that slavery was my future destiny.  No release ever.  No prospect of ever being treated as a man again.  And I listened in tears as Lewis explained that he would visit my parents soon.  Tell them about my supposed breakdown and my new-found homosexuality.  He would tell them that he was looking after me and that I would only contact them when I was ready.  A readiness that would never come.  Slowly and deliberately, every facet of my former existence would be wiped away, so that I could become the slave that he wanted me to be.

He ended by asking me if I understood my new position in life.  I wiped away my tears and looked up at him through bleary eyes.  “Why me?  Why are you doing this to me? What have I done to deserve this?”

Lewis looked me in the eyes and answered in a matter-of-fact, monotone voice that betrayed no emotion. 

“Because I can.  Because I have the power to transform you from successful athlete and businessman to humble, naked slave.  I have enjoyed doing this to you, and I will continue to enjoy it.  Taking everything away from you and destroying every part of your humanity.  I enjoy knowing that from now on every minute of every day of your future will be spent in slavery, serving me as my naked property.  Always trying to please me, focused on how you can be of service to me.  You will always be aware of your status as a naked animal.  Always aware that your existence is full of utter hopelessness, utter degradation and shame.  You will be desperate to avoid punishments that will come regularly, and desperate to please your masters.”

I felt my eyes glaze over as I shuddered at the words that seemed so full of evil, and the complete lack of any mercy.  “But why me Sir? Why me?”

“You are the embodiment of a supposed red-blooded, attractive, successful, athletic man.  The guy who everyone admires.  The guy who women want to go to bed with, and guys want as their mate.  It is your success in every field that attracts me.  That makes me want to destroy you.  It makes your fall to slavery so much more exciting and devastating.”

And so my life was to be destroyed and I was destined for a life of slavery, just to amuse him.  I hung my head and stood there waiting for further commands, as Lewis and Dennis left me alone and moved into the living room, switching on the TV set.  I stood there – naked and unmoving – and allowed the unending misery of my future to be accepted by my numbed brain.

<><><><><><><><><><><><>

Half an hour later, I sat naked in the passenger seat of my former sports car, my bare feet spread wide on the dashboard exposing my shaved legs and cock to any passer by or fellow motorist at traffic junctions.  Lewis drove me on the journey to one of my favourite times of the week, football practice.  I looked across at him, dressed smartly and casually, and considered the fact that he was now my owner.  I submitted to his commands with a mix of horror, shame and fear.

As a free man, I had always loved every aspect of football.  Now I sat naked and contemplated the horror of the next few hours.  I did not want to take any part in the forthcoming football practice.

Lewis informed me that he had ways of knowing if I carried out his orders.  I dared not even consider that he was exaggerating and resolved that I would do whatever he told me to do.  I could not win, and the shame and sickening horror of my slavery was out of my hands.  Lewis informed me that I would take part in every aspect of training as normal, and that I would shower as normal after the game.  I would join my former friends in the social club afterwards although he would give me no money.  He would also give me no towel, no clothes to change into after football.  I would remain there in the social club for 30 minutes: no longer and no shorter.   At 9.30pm, I would leave the social club and run home to my apartment.  I would do this wearing only my shorts and football socks.  No shirt, which would be left behind at the social club.  On arriving at the door of my apartment, I would remove my shorts and socks and kneel naked at the door.  Only then would I knock to be allowed in by Master Lewis.

I nodded in confirmation that I understood the commands of my Master.  “Yes Master I understand Master,” I whispered.  I shivered in fear and shame at my terrible predicament, feeling the goose pimples up my spine at the horror of each humiliating detail.

My car pulled up at the changing room, next to the football pitch.  Looking across for Master’s confirmation, I pulled my legs down onto the floor.  “Have a good practice session slave and I will see you later,” Master sneered.

I paused, a shivering wreck of nerves, and looked across at him.  He nodded.  With a deep breath, I opened the door to my former car and stepped naked outside.  I ran around to the boot and pulled out my basic clothing.

As his car sped into the darkening gloom, I stood there naked and alone, and I contemplated my vulnerable dependency on him now.  Forced to submit to his every word.  And he knew with the certain resolve of his total authority over me that I would follow his plans and would be home when he told me to be home. 

Shakily, I pulled my obscenely tight shorts on over my hairless cock and winced as the piercing tugged at me.  In the vain hope that it was only a horrible dream, I ran my hands across my abused groin.  I felt the smooth skin where once there was pubes.  I felt the bleached triangle that was my new pubic bush.  It was reality now.  And forever.

I pulled on my tight football shirt and socks, and carried my football boots.  And whimpering in utter terror, the bile rising in my throat, I moved towards the entrance to the changing rooms.

Tonight, I would not be flinging back the door to make my usual entrance with a shout, the centre of attention for my team mates.  The former athletic football captain would never return again now.  I sighed and turned the handle, taking a giant step into a world where I no longer belonged.  The world of the confident jock boys.

Chapter 17 ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

I felt like a naughty schoolboy with a guilty secret as I crept into the changing room at football practice.  I felt my cheeks redden instinctively, and I steadied my shaking legs as I made my way silently to my locker, head down.  The room was full of idle chatter and the sound of football studs on the tiled floor, as guys made their way outdoors.  Only stopping to nod at me and look in surprise at my shaved head.

My whole body was alert, my reflexes prepared to spring into action like a startled rabbit, ready to defend myself.  I had always been king of this domain, captain of the team, and now I could not speak or look any of my team mates and friends in the eye.  I felt like the new boy on his first day at work, friendless and anxious to keep a low profile.  But this was on a different level: I was a slave, an inferior to all of these free guys, and I felt how far I had fallen since Saturday’s match, the last time I had been a true man.

Normally I would arrive in smart shirt and jeans and change into my top-of-the-range football gear.  I would be carrying my sports bag with towel, and toiletries.  Today, I had no gear other than the tight fitting shirt and shorts, no towel or toiletries.  I didn’t even have the key to my own locker.

Wordlessly, I sat down on the bench in front of my locker and toyed with my boots as I waited for the inevitable comments.

Most of the guys had gone outside already, but five remained, and it was Kyle who spoke first.  “What’s the haircut in aid of Gary?  Bit extreme isn’t it mate?”

I looked across and opened my mouth.  It felt strange to be able to speak freely, not confined by humbly answering my Master as His inferior.  It was not only strange though, it felt frightening and unnatural to be speaking freely.

“Just fancied a change mate.  Didn’t turn out the way I expected though,” I replied, clearing my throat and trying to speak clearly.  I had spent the last day mumbling submissively and I tried hard not to replicate this now.  I was used to being loud, confident and in control of the conversation.

I felt five sets of eyes looking at my ridiculous haircut, and looking at my cheap and body-hugging outfit as I sat there.  They sensed that something was different about me, they sensed my change of character.  The conversation continue amongst themselves as my unsteady hands put on my football boots and stood up, following the other four guys onto the football pitch with a sickening knot in my stomach.

Coach had already started his discussion about Saturday’s game and so I crept to the back, hoping not to be noticed.  I was of course noticed, and the puzzled looks at my new appearance were not allowed to surface as coach was speaking.  I rubbed the back of my sore neck with my hand, feeling my new bar code with my Master’s telephone number, burning like a clear signal of ownership into my muscular neck.

I kept my face focused on coach during his talk, feeling the accusing stares of other guys and the nudges as discrete fingers were pointed at me.  I tried my hardest not to squirm or redden, and not to hang my head.  My mind came back to shocking reality as I heard coach state “Where’s Gary? Got anything to add from Saturday Gary?”

All eyes now openly turned towards me, bodies turned in my direction, as my team mates cleared a space for me to address the group.  I stood there in my tight kit, cock bulging in my tiny shorts, and prayed that no-one would ask me about my shaved head, arms or legs.  “No coach,” I answered quietly, the shame of my slavery appearing to me to be etched forever on my whole being, my demeanour and appearance.

Normally, I always gave my opinion.  Normally, I liked the guys to hear my voice, to know I was their captain and that I knew how they needed to improve.  I had never answered as I did now, but I had no recollection of Saturday’s game, no interest in it any more.  My experiences since then would not have been believed had I stood up and announced them to the world.  I was no longer a captain.  It had disappeared with my manhood.  I stood before them in the certain knowledge that I was destined for slavery, and I could not maintain the sham of being their leader any longer.  I was going through the motions, here because my Master had commanded it.  My days of football captain were well and truly over, and I was trying to build a protective shell around myself that would allow me to come to terms with this stark realisation.

I put my head down and closed my eyes momentarily as I heard James state, “He’s more concerned with his new hairstyle coach.  And practising his skills in the high street.”  As my team mates jeered, and openly laughed now at my buzz cut, I looked up at James and met his eyes.  I felt the stinging pain of humiliation as I stood there, knowing that James had only hours earlier seen me sprawled practically naked on the high street.  He had also no doubt seen the stripes of the cane across my exposed arse as I ran away.  How could I defend myself?  How could I make any sort of retort, destined for slavery as I was?  The dizzy confirmation struck me that I was now surrounded by free jock boys.  And they were all my superiors.  I was owned property now, and the difference in my status was to me striking.

I threw myself into training like never before.  The banter that I usually led, the friendly jibes that I directed at my team mates, the words of advice and encouragement that I gave ….. these were all gone.  Today, I kept my head down and practised hard.   On the one hand it felt good to be wearing clothing and in a position where I was not being openly submissive and abused.  On the other, I dreaded the knowledge that I would soon be forced to shower in the changing rooms and expose my new body.  I had never been one to shy away from stripping in the changing rooms and so my team mates knew my body.  How would they react when they saw its new appearance?

We reached the stage of training where the drills were over, and the team sat on the grass for a five minute break prior to the match.  I chose to remain standing and slightly apart from the group as discussions began, until I heard the voice of James again.  “Gary, what’s that mark on the back of your neck?”

I mumbled an incoherent reply and moved my hand self-consciously to cover the mark of my ownership.  But it was too late.  James was up and behind me and exclaiming “What the fuck?” before I could formulate a reason to run away.  Several of my team mates crowded around and looked at my neck, laughing and shaking their heads.  They were clearly amazed at why I would do such a thing, and wanted some explanation.

I struggled to come up with a reason.  Why would any sane and athletic guy mutilate his body in that way?  I muttered that it was a temporary tattoo, an in-joke between myself and my girlfriend.

“Debbie said that you and Jen were finished.  That you had finished with her,” stated Jon.

“Yeah well we are going through a rough patch.  But I hope we will sort it out,” I replied, pulling myself away from their gaze and covering my tattoo as best as I could.

The rest of the game went as normal, other than the fact that my own play was useless.  My usual energy and enthusiasm was gone, and my shouting for the ball and leadership skills were not present.  Coach called me over and asked if everything was ok, clearly aware of the change in my play and general demeanour. “You look like shit Gary.  You sure you ok?”

I told him I would be fine and that I was under a lot of pressure at the moment.  He shrugged it off and I continued to struggle in the game, my whole body sore from the depilation laser treatment and the new tattoos, not to mention my caned arse and my aching cock, now sporting its own ring.

My heart was pounding in my chest as we returned to the changing rooms.  I had already been degraded in so many ways, but the thought of stripping naked in front of my team mates and them seeing me like this was horrific.  It was beyond anything I could ever imagine.

We reached the changing room and I sat there, slowly removing my boots and my socks.  I was dressed in only my tight top and my snug shorts but the thought of removing either item of clothing seemed incomprehensible.  I sat there alone, terrified, as Ben came and sat next to me.   He was naked and sat there casually, one jock boy next to another.

“Gary what’s the matter? The guys are worried about you.  You look like shit man, and you look like you’ve got all the worries of the world on your shoulder.”

“O nothing Ben.  Just going through a difficult patch with Jen, and at work.”

“You sure you are ok?  I’m your best mate Gary.  I am always here for you.”

“Yeah I know, thanks Ben.  You can’t help me.  I got to work it out for myself.”

“Come on then, let’s get showered and we will talk about it in the club over a pint,” Ben smiled, picking up his towel and standing in front of me.

I sat and looked at him as he waited for me.  I wanted to scream and run.  I wanted to disappear into thin air.  I wanted to be anywhere but here.

Every fibre of my being on red alert, I pulled my tight top over my body and exposed my new, smooth body to my best mate.  I looked at him as he raised his eyebrows in surprise and returned my gaze.  His eyes moved down my shaved body, my nipples the only change in an otherwise completely smooth torso.

I stood up and looked at him again.  I was about to lose the respect of my closest friend and confidante.  I was about to expose myself to the whole team.  And with an audible whimper, I pulled down my tight shorts to stand naked before him.  Pink triangle exposed.  The word OWNED standing out on the shaft of my cock.  And not even a towel to hide myself as I prepared to walk across the changing room floor to the showers.

Chapter 18 ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

Ben stood open-mouthed and stared at me.  I stood there, fully exposed, and looked back at him.  My shaved body on display, the terrible triangle of pink and my abused cock, tattooed and pierced with a ring.  Stood before my best mate like some gayboy exposing my feminised body, and silently screamed inside.  Part of me wanted to cover myself desperately, hide what had become of my body.  But part of me also wanted to shock him and make him lose his respect for me.

Ben and I had been best mates for as long as I could remember, since primary school.   I loved him.  As my mate of course, not in any sexual way.  He knew everything about me and I knew everything about him.  I trusted him completely.  But this was something I could not share with him.  I could not confide in him that I was a slave, and what was happening to me.  I could not let him see my destiny.  I hoped that he would be repulsed by my body, and leave me to be enslaved.  Not get involved.  He couldn’t be my mate any more.  It was too dangerous for him, and too humiliating for me.  My whole personality and being was destined for massive change and I knew that I could no longer have any friends.

Despite my extreme shame and degradation, I let him get a good look at what had become of me, and then I covered my genitals with my dirty football top.  My caned arse was hidden from his view against the wall.

“Ben, something is happening to me,” I appealed, looking into his eyes.  “I know I look a freak.  But it’s still me.  Trust me buddy, I can’t tell you about it.  But it may mean the end of you and me.  I may need to disappear for a while.  I am ok.  But you just have to let me go.  Promise me you wont come looking for me.  It would not be a good thing to do.  Just leave me and I hope I will get to see you again in the future.”

I paused and looked into his puzzled eyes, seeking some confirmation that he knew this was no joke.  He stared back and stuttered “Gary what the hell is happening to you?  Why are you doing this man?”

“Leave me be Ben, please.  For your own sake.”

He looked into my eyes a little longer, and I looked downwards to break the spell.  He shook his head and I watched as he turned his back, walking towards the showers.

And so I began the journey that I didn’t want to make, but knew I had to.  The journey that would forever change my perception in the eyes of my team mates but that I could no longer avoid.  The journey that would irrevocably change my status from jock captain to owned property.  I started to walk unsteadily towards the showers.

I clasped my hands over my genitals and entered the shower area, horribly aware of my exposed caned arse as I walked.  I walked into the showers and moved under a water jet, stood on my own in the corner facing the wall.  Hands covering my genitals.  There was nowhere to hide.  I stood facing the wall and felt the water cascade over my naked body. 

I stood and held my breath as the laughing and talking around me stopped.   I shuddered in the certain knowledge that the rest of my team mates were staring at my punished arse, and also no doubt the barcode and numbers on my neck.  Involuntarily, I flexed my arse cheeks as I felt their striped abuse to be the centre of attention.  Which was worse? My caned arse, or my abused genitals?  I think I knew that my genitals would be more of a shock, and so I remained facing the wall.  Master had not stated that I had to display my genitals openly, and so I remained in hiding.  What was going through their minds as they looked at my abused arse cheeks ?  The thought made my knees weak as I closed my eyes and waited.

“Hey kinky boy?”

I turned my head as I heard the stifled laughs, and my heart reeled at the sight of so many naked, straight guys staring at my exposed and naked body.  James took a step forward and glared at me with a challenging stare, the water planing off his own naked body as he squared up to me.

“What’s going on Gary? Running around naked in the high street, someone been caning your arse, bar codes on your neck, all your body hair disappeared.  You turning into a pansy boy?”

I may have become a slave but I was no pansy.  I was no queer.  I could not help the transformations that were being forced on me.  The repressed anger welled up inside me and I turned to face him, growling  “I’m no fucking pansy boy James.”

It was only then that I realised my mistake.  I closed my eyes in defeat as I realised that I now faced the guys and had shown them a full frontal view of my nudity.  I cursed myself at my stupidity and looked down at the floor, as if to confirm to myself that I really did look as ridiculous as I felt.

I stood there in all my enslaved glory.  My muscular frame was now secondary to the fact that my shaved head was accompanied by a smooth body.  The pink triangle was all that remained of my pubic  hair, and this was now accompanied by the tattooed OWNED down the shaft of my cock and the obscene cock ring.  James snorted in derision as he looked at my exposed body.  “Fucking hell Gary.  Look at you.  You could have fooled me pansy boy,”  he sneered and turned his back.

I looked at the other guys, holding my exposed stance in shocked delay.  I registered the look of confused contempt on their faces and recognised that my credibility was evaporating like the steam from the hot showers.  In despair I sank to my knees and looked up to the ceiling for help.

I screamed in despair.  “I am no pansy guys.  I am in a situation that I can’t get out of.  I don’t want this but I can’t do anything about it.  I am trapped.”  I felt the stinging tears of desperation in the corners of my eyes and I shook violently with the utter despair of my predicament.  The showers were silent, and I brought myself back from the brink of fainting.  I rose from my knees and without a backwards glance ran naked back into the changing area.

I had no towel.  No clean clothes.  Silently and quickly, I rubbed down my wet body with the sweaty top that I had used for practice.  Quickly, I pulled up the flimsy shorts and ignored the fact that my wet body made them transparent, displaying my cock ring obscenely through the fabric.  With my back to the dressing room I pulled on my socks and football boots.  With a startled exclamation, I felt a hand across my back and shot bolt upright, turning to see Ben behind me.

“Calm down,” he murmured.  “Look, I don’t know what’s going on Gary but I am here to help you.  I hate seeing you like this.  What’s happening to you?”

I looked at his face, tears misting my view, and sobbed “Thanks Ben.  But you really can’t help me.”

He put his arm across the top of my bare back and whispered quietly, “James has been slating you in there.  The other guys don’t want you in the club.  Go home Gary now and sleep it off.   Will you?”

I nodded and wiped my eyes.  “See ya Ben,” I whispered, feeling that I would never see my best mate again now that football would no longer be an option for me.  With a deep breath, I turned and faced the dressing room and walked across the tiles to the exit.  The sound of the studs from my boots echoed across the tiles as I walked through the silent dressing room.  The metres seemed to be miles as I trudged across the tiles dressed only in my wet shorts, socks and boots.  Every eye on me.  Every mouth fixed in a frown at their perception of my new status.  I knew these guys, their prejudices and their outlook on society.  They were thinking in the same way that I would think if I saw someone behaving and modified as I had been.  They now saw me as homosexual.  I had no doubts about that.  And to a very straight football team, that was a definite non starter.

I was defeated.  I was no longer a member of the football team.  I was no longer a member of the jock boys.  I knew that certain fact without needing to turn back, as I exited the door and entered the bracing evening air.  And with a sigh, I started to jog.

Taking one last look behind me at the place where once I was top dog, I saw that Ben had followed me outside and was now standing alone, watching me running away.  Briefly, I considered turning around.  I considered going telling Ben of what was happening to me.  I considered seeking his help.  But how could he help me?  My family would be killed if he tried, and I had nothing left anymore.  I had no possessions and my body had been permanently scarred.  I was learning my place and I knew that my destiny was now ruled by Lewis.  Ben could not help me any more.  I nodded to myself, my mind made up.  I turned away from Ben and headed towards my Master.  My freedom was over once and for all.

With tears of self pity, I turned my jog into a run and ran into the back streets to find my way home.  Running solidly and steadily, I was oblivious to the streets around me, dressed only in flimsy shorts and boots.  Running back to my Master and back to a life of slavery, the tears cascading down my cheeks as I sensed that my manhood was over.

It wasn’t long before I reached my apartment block, my skin a block of ice in the cold evening air and yet covered in a sheen of sweat from my run.  Keeping to the shadows so as to avoid being seen by my neighbours, I worked my way around to the main entrance and took off my football boots.  Slipping inside, I crossed the main entrance hall and moved inside.  I clambered up the stairs, pausing only to pass a well dressed couple coming downstairs.  Their sneer of contempt and mutterings of disgust seemed nothing compared to my humiliations in the showers.

Finally I sank to the floor in front of my apartment and lay there for a moment in exhaustion, my body slick on the cool marble floor.  Slowly, I raised myself up and sat on the floor, resting my head between my knees and running my hands through my stubbled hair as I rested for a few moments.  Waited before I had to beg naked for entry to my own apartment.

I considered the day that I had experienced today and how far I had fallen since only this morning.  The discovery of my new job ; the loss of my status at work ; the experience of sucking Lewis’s socks whilst naked and erect under my desk ; the humiliation of my obscene costume and demotion in front of my colleagues at work ; meeting Dennis and learning of my fate as his assistant as he shoved cigarette butts up my arse ; the caning from George ; giving all of my clothes away in a near naked dash in the high street ; the mutilation of my body ; the discovery that my slavery was irreversible in Dennis’s flat and finally my acceptance that my days as a football jock were over.  How could all of that happen in one day ?

It must have been approaching 10pm and yet still my day was not over.  I couldn’t remember a moment when I had not been in some form of slavery today, and even now I could not go into my apartment and relax for an hour.  My degradation was not yet over.  I looked up and down the corridor and strained my ears for the sounds of any people around.  Following my Master’s orders, I pulled off my socks and pulled down my shorts to stand naked in the public corridor.  Tired and deflated, I knelt naked at my own apartment door and knocked timidly for the attention of my tormentor, not wishing to attract the attention of any neighbours.  I waited for the man who held my life in his hands.  I waited for him to open the door.

He kept me waiting there naked for a few minutes before he opened the door.  With a satisfied smile, he motioned for me to come inside and I crawled obediently into the apartment, feeling my cock and balls swing between my legs as I crawled silently and thankfully inside.

Master, dressed casually in sports wear, moved into the living area and uncertainly I followed on all fours.  He sat down on my comfortable armchair and looked down at me.  “You look exhausted.  Get a beer from the fridge,” he barked.

Dazed and afraid of his presence, I rose from my knees.  “I didn’t say stand,” he snarled and so I crawled naked into the kitchen and brought through the beer.  Shaking, I held out the beer to him.   “Well open it then,” he stated, not taking his eyes from the football game on TV.

I opened the beer and my mouth drooled at the smell.  Without even looking at me, he reached forward and took the beer before sitting back in his chair again.  I knelt there naked before him and ached for a taste of his beer, a taste that I knew would never come.  And I waited, silently, as he drank his beer and watched the football.  Not daring to turn and face the football, I knelt there head down and waited, staring at his bare feet.

Finally, the football finished and Master switched off the TV.  At his command, I relayed the events of football practice, pausing only to give extra details where he commanded and to wait whilst he openly laughed at some of my degradations.  He snarled his disapproval when I told him that I had not been allowed into the bar after practice and warned me that this would result in punishment tomorrow.

I finished my tale and waited in silence as he finished drinking his beer.

“So do you not want to go to football practice any more boy?” he stated, moving forward in his chair so that his knees came either side of my head and I was only inches from his groin.

Head down I replied, “No Master.”  Truthfully.  I didn’t want to ever face my team mates again.

He chuckled.  “Good job your Master knows you so well boy.  I anticipated you would choose not to be jock boy footballer any more.  But I want my slave boy to stay fit and retain his body for me.  Don’t want my slave getting lazy.”

I looked up at him puzzled.  Ruefully I considered that there was very little chance of me ever having a minute to relax if today was anything to go by.

“So I need to find some fitness course for you don’t I slaveboy?”

“Yes Master,” I murmured submissively.

“Glad you agree slave.  You see, I have been sorting that out for you this evening.  Taking care of my slaveboy’s needs like a true Master should.”

He paused and took my head in his hands, pulling me up so that my eyes looked into his cruel face and I knelt fully up on my knees.   “I’ve already enrolled you in response to a request in the local newspaper.   Apparently, they have lots of females but were struggling to find men to take part in their group.  In fact, you are the only male as it stands.”

I was learning not to try and second guess Master any more, as I knew he was building up to some new degrading activity.

“Don’t know why they don’t get young men doing it.  Good for the muscles and excellent exercise I believe.  I think it’s just not considered very manly, that’s all.”

He stared into my eyes and drank in my submission to him.

“I’ve ordered you some of the specialist gear from the internet.  You start ballet classes next Monday,” he grinned.  “And don’t look so crestfallen slaveboy.  You’ve got a nice new skintight leotard and some ballet shoes on the way.”

Chapter 19 ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

Master Lewis was watching a football show on TV.  Normally, I would have been watching the show myself but I felt my eyes closing and felt no compulsion to watch sport.  Somehow, it seemed so irrelevant now: and I had definitely had enough of football for one day.  Exhausted, I lay naked on the floor as Master went into the kitchen.  I heard the scrape of dishes as if he was cleaning up after a meal and then the shout of “Slave.  In here.”

I remained naked on all fours, genitals swinging, as I crawled into the kitchen area and looked up at my Master.  He stood in front of the fridge, beer in hand and smirked at my ridiculous appearance, naked on the floor.

“Listen up boy,” he stated, taking a swig of his beer and pausing to sigh in contentment.  “As we discussed at Dennis’s place, this apartment will belong to me tomorrow when you sign it over to me.  I am just waiting for the papers to come through.  Since I am now on a wage that more befits my status, I will be moving into here and selling my own apartment.  So this apartment is effectively mine already.”

I hung my head and stared at the kitchen tiles.  I had known this was the case and I knew that there was nothing I could do about it.  But somehow, kneeling there naked on the floor as he stood there fully dressed, drinking my beer, made it seem so much worse, so much more of a devastating blow to my already shattered ego.

Lewis continued.  “And, since you no longer have any income at all and are therefore unable to support yourself, you will be living here as well.”

I considered the thought of living with Lewis, of being available for his use all day every day.  Never having a moment to myself, free of his supervision.  It seemed a frightening prospect and I was dazed at how it would work.

“Of course, when I say you live here, you will be living in quite a different way to the way that you have lived in the past.  I have already had a few adjustments made by one of Dennis’s acquaintances whilst you have been busy parading yourself around town this afternoon.  There will be a number of rules that you will need to learn about life as a slave when at home.”

I looked up at him in misery, my eyes reflecting the utter desperation at my situation.  He had total power over every moment of my life, every aspect of my existence.  I had no clothes any longer, I would soon be signing over all of my belongings.  I had nothing that I could call my own apart from my body.  And even that now bore the hallmarks of slavery to my Master.

“Anyway, we will talk about the rules when you have finished eating and the football is over.  You must be starving slaveboy and I don’t want you starving to death.”  I felt my stomach rumble as if on cue and realised that I had not eaten today at all, nor even had a drink.  I looked up expectantly at the microwave and wondered what I would be allowed to eat.

Lewis reached behind him on the worktop and moved into the corner of the kitchen near the door.  He placed something on the floor and called me over.

I turned the corner of the central kitchen unit, and looked on the floor.  Two shiny silver dog bowls were placed on the floor and I moved towards them hesitantly.  Surely he would not make me eat like that, from bowls on the floor, like an animal ?  One of the bowls contained what looked like water, and the other contained what appeared to be a mixture of leftovers.  Some chips, some vegetables, pieces of fat and bone from some meat and some crusts taken from a loaf of bread.  I looked at the unappetising mess and looked up at my Master in confusion.

“You will make sure your bowl is licked clean boy.  This is a present from your Master.  I will be giving you my leftovers every day boy, and you will be thankful for it.”

I looked up at him in disbelief and wrinkled my nose in disgust at the cold leftovers in the bowl.  He glared at me and grabbed my neck from behind, pushing me down so that my face was dragged into the cold mess of food.  “Ungrateful bastard,” he snarled pushing my head downwards into the food.  “I have got some tins of dog food that I can feed you if you think this is not good enough for you slave.  You eat what I tell you to eat, and you are thankful for it.”  He kicked me square in the balls with a savage blow and I howled in despair, collapsing forward into the food.

I lay there and wiped the food from my face with my hands as he turned to walk away.  “Make sure you clean that bowl and use your mouth only slave,” he shouted, burping loudly after taking another swig from his beer.  “Come through to me when you have finished.”

And he left me, alone on the floor, to eat the cold leftovers of his meal.  It seemed I was not even to be allowed a basic human diet now, eating scraps from a bowl like a dog,

I was ravenous with hunger, but unused to eating cold chips and a mush of vegetables.  Several times the texture and taste of the unappetising food made me gag, struggling to swallow the food.  And yet I lay there on the floor in misery, my head down in the dog bowl and my exposed arse and genitals up in the air behind me.  Finally, I finished and moved my face into the tepid water of the other bowl, drinking some water down.

With a sigh, I rested my head on my bare, shaved arms and closed my eyes.  When would this constant treatment as a sub-human end?  My so familiar flat was like a torture cell to me, and my day had been one long series of unending humiliation.  I roused my head from the floor and wearily turned to pad naked across the kitchen and back into the living room as I heard the last segment of the football programme begin.   Maybe he would let me sit with him for ten minutes on the settee?

Lewis turned his head and watched me crawl in front of him.  He looked down at me and told me to turn onto my back.  I turned over and lay in front of him.  Barking commands at me, he made me lie flat on the floor.  He looked down at me and told me to turn onto my back.  I turned over and lay in front of him, feet near his body and face towards him.  Barking commands at me, he made me lie on the floor, my newly shaved legs pointing up into the air, pushed against the settee either side of his legs.  I held my breath as he rested his trainers on my shaved cock and balls and lay there silently.  His naked footrest as he watched the football, his weight pushing down on my piercing uncomfortably.   I held my breath and tried to block out the pain.

I remained like this for ten minutes and then casually, as if this were the most natural thing in the world, he told me to remove his trainers and socks.  Still lying on my back, I removed his trainers and moved them to the side, before peeling away his sports socks.  Using his bare feet, he pushed my forehead back down again.   I lay flat again on the floor and felt the soles of his feet cover my face for a few moments, his toes tapping my forehead.  It is extremely humiliating to lie exposed and naked, another man’s feet covering your face.  It was soon surpassed however when he pawed at my lip with his foot.  Understanding my place, I slowly opened my mouth and accepted his bare feet into my mouth.  I followed his instructions as he placed the toes from each foot in my mouth, one by one, sucking them clean and also sucking the dirt from between his toes.

I could no longer be classed as a human being, let alone a man, as I considered the lowly status of someone who licked the dirt from another man’s feet.  It made me feel disgusted with my servile behaviour and yet I continued to suck and lick on command as Lewis outlined some of his house rules.

“Remember these rules slaveboy.  They will govern every moment when you are at home.  You will always be naked in this house.  You will always ask permission before eating, drinking, pissing or shitting.  You will never stand, and you will always ensure that your head is below the level of my head as your superior.  You are forbidden to sit or lie on any furniture at any stage.  Your place is on the floor.  When not carrying out a specific order from me, you will kneel naked and face that corner, your nose touching the wall and your hands on your stubbled head.  You will wait like that until I require you.  You will carry out any task quickly, silently and efficiently.”

He smiled down at me, as I struggled to suck both of his big toes in my mouth and grinned.  “Tough life slaveboy,” he chuckled and stood up, extricating his toes with a pop from my mouth.  “Follow me.”

I could not believe how dismal my life would be, the total lack of any freedom or time spent as a normal man.  I crawled after him into the bedroom and at his command I knelt in front of him.  From behind him, he produced a metal ring of steel and I gasped as he placed it around my neck and locked it in place with a padlock.  I gulped as I realised the tight fitting band made me a collared animal.  He chuckled and ran his fingers around the top of my banded neck.  “That will remind you of what you are, every minute that you are here.  And so will this.”

He held a small padlock in his hand and waved it before me.  Little did I realise how that small padlock would enslave me more than any other form of bondage.  Following his instructions, I spread my body face up in an X position on the floor and closed my eyes as I felt him grab my penis by its ring.  I winced in pain as he pulled down on it sharply and let out an involuntary exclamation as I heard the snick of a lock.  He let go and I felt my penis pulled down by its ring, wrapped down under my balls.

“Hope you had a good shag on Saturday night slaveboy.  You see your cock belongs to me now, and I don’t think that slaveboys should ever be able to use it for pleasure purposes.  So your cock ring has been locked to a small ring that Pierre placed behind your balls.  You will not be cumming in future, ever.”

He paused and let the cruel extent of his words sink in to my exhausted brain.  “Two little rings will control your whole sex life slave.  I know that little boys can’t always be trusted to control themselves.  Little boys sometimes get distracted from their work by thinking about other things don’t they?  I always have your welfare in mind, and so I don’t want you to get punished for not dedicating every ounce of energy to me.  Your mind needs to be focused on me alone.”

He reached down and looped his finger underneath my now imprisoned cock.  He pulled upwards gently and I realised that there was no room at all for my cock to move.  It was locked in place.

“If I am not careful, my little boy will be playing with his bald little cock at night instead of resting for his work and his worship of his Master the following day.  But as I have already told you boy, I control everything.  Your days of cumming are over forever.  Your little cock is now locked pointing downwards, locked to your balls forever and I can tell you there is no slack.”  He pulled harshly on my cock and a bolt of pain shot through my cock causing my hoarse voice to roar in agony.

“Unfortunately for you, that ring means your little cock will not be getting hard again.  If it does start to try and point upwards, the pain will be so severe it will soon deflate again.  Of course it is never coming off again, so your days of sexual release are over forever boy.  Your cock is even more useless now than it has ever been.”

I shook my head in disbelief and stifled a sob.  “Your cock belongs to me now boy, and that means it is for my pleasure and not yours.  Of course, my pleasure comes from owning it and controlling it.  I’ve always felt that little boys should not be allowed to masturbate.  It so distracts them from their work, don’t you think?” 

He paused and looked into my eyes, no doubt noticing the further sinking of my manhood, the further breaking of my life. 

“ I love that look of desperation on your face slaveboy.  You will live your life in permanent chastity, desperate for relief but never able to cum again.  And the reason ?  Simply because it amuses me.  You never get to use your little dicklet because I have always thought it would be amusing to take away your every freedom.  I hope you had a good wank last week - released some of that sperm - because it was the last one you will ever have.  You will have the biggest case of blue balls the world has ever seen.”

He chuckled and grabbed my balls, which were humiliatingly exposed and pushed out to both sides of my cock.  They were not resting in the bottom of my scrotum any more: they were now tightly stretched shaved orbs and already sensitive to his touch as he groped them in his hands.  “Wahay !  My little slaveboy may have the word OWNED printed down his cock, but he’s also gonna have massive balls filled with cum that can never escape.  Billy blue balls !”

He laughed at his humour and squeezed my balls in his hands.  “They look good like this, all exposed and on display.”  I squirmed uncomfortably.

Although sexual excitement was not uppermost in my mind as I lay broken and defeated on the cold floor, the prospect of no release was bewildering.  I was a normal guy: I was used to cumming at least twice a day.  I didn’t know what to think.  My mind was in turmoil.  I wanted to shout and plead and tell him this was so unfair.  It was so unfair to not even allow me the most basic relief in my destiny of total slavery.  But how could I beg him to cum?  Somehow I could not bring myself to beg my tormentor – my former work colleague and subordinate – to allow me the freedom to masturbate.  It all seemed so unbelievably wrong, so unbelievably humiliating and degrading.  So totally wrong that he now controlled my whole body, and had locked away my cock forever.  That my balls were to be visibly displayed, large and full of sperm, but imprisoned and mocking me every minute of every day.  I was not even an animal anymore, I was a freakish object denied the most basic of freedoms. 

And the smile on my Master’s face told me that he loved every second of my degradation.

“I want to destroy your old life.  Destroy everything that made you a man and make you totally dependent on me.  A desperate slaveboy who needs his Master for everything.  I want you to have only me in your life.  As your owner and Master.  Everything that happens to you from now on will be my choice.  My rules govern your pathetic existence.  You will be helpless for every minute of every day.  Every day for ever.  I want you to crave attention from me because the rest of your life is going to be so miserable and pointless and lonely, alone in your naked slavery and doing your pointless manual tasks for me.  Your Master.  And I want you to know every minute of every day that you could have been free if you hadn’t been such a cocky arsehole towards me.  That your slavery is your own fault and you are destined to regret your actions for the rest of your miserable, naked life.” 

I saw a grin of genuine delight.  This was his dream.  This was why he had enslaved me and gone to such lengths to de-humanise me.  His dream was coming true and he was loving it.  My life was meaningless to him, I was a mere prop in his fantasy.  A prop that was destined for miserable slavery.

He told me to get on all fours again, and I followed him across the room feeling my imprisoned cock and balls now locked to my body, no longer swinging free.  We moved towards what had been Anna’s walk-in wardrobe.  A small cupboard about the size of a double bed.  I noticed that the former cupboard now had a heavy metal door with a heavy latch and padlock at its entrance.

“Welcome to your new bedroom slaveboy!” Lewis grinned, and pulled open the door.  The contents of the wardrobe had all gone, even the wallpaper had been stripped and painted white.  The room was completely bare, with a bare lightbulb casting a dim light inside and even the carpet removed.  The floor was now bare wooden boards, unvarnished and dirty.

He kicked my arse from behind and motioned for me to move into this cell.  I moved inside and looked in horror as he picked up a chain that was attached to the rear of the cell.  With an inane whistle, he attached my collar to the chain and padlocked me into my prison.  I lay there on the floor, chained in place and looked up at him.

He moved out of the cell and looked back at me in triumph.  In one day he had managed to take away any pretence that I was a human being any longer, and strip me of any humanity.  When I had left for work this morning, I still held out hopes of retaining my life.  Now I had been taught that my life was destined only for naked slavery.

“Fuck me this has been worth the wait !” he sneered, looking me up and down with a smile.

“Sleep well pig.  Welcome to your new life!” he shouted before slamming shut the door to my cell and locking it.

I lay there for a moment, not quite believing my predicament.   I heard the latch put in place across the door, and the padlock locking me into my prison cell before the light switch plunged me into darkness.

And so began my first night as an animal slave , chained naked in my cell.

Chapter 20 ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

It took me a while to believe – lying there naked in chains - that this would be my bedroom from now on, a bare cell with neither blanket nor pillow.  I was effectively an animal locked down for the night in naked misery.  I lay there in misery and my hand moved down to my cock.  I explored with my hands the simple piercings that left my cock chained down to the underside of my balls and whimpered in sheer humiliation and frustration.  I realised that my cock was chained tight and there was no way I could wank without permission.  It seemed so inhumane to not even allow me the basic use of my cock.  How could he do this to me?

Despite my despair, I was exhausted and soon drifted into a deep sleep.  When I awoke, I was unaware of the time.  My windowless cell remained dark and the only clues that it was morning were the fact that I desperately needed the toilet, and that my chained cock was trying to resist its prison and give me my morning erection.  I lay there and winced in pain as my cock pulled in vain against my piercing.  I cursed the fact that I was not even allowed an erection and I openly exclaimed in pain as my cock tried to release its bonds.  I shuddered as I realised that this desire to erect would become more and more intense as I was denied any release, and no doubt become the worst torture of all.  I lay there in my chains, eyes wide awake as I considered the events of yesterday and contemplated my second full day of total slavery.

I was roused from my thoughts by the sound of the lock to my prison cell being opened and the sight of my Master dressed in running gear.  He was sweating slightly and I realised he has been for a morning run.  He grinned at me, revelling in my chained nakedness on the floor, and began to unlock me.  He paused only to sniff in the air and exclaim “You smell like a fucking pig boy.”

I followed him dutifully on all fours, as he moved into the bedroom, pausing to look at the sheets that showed me he had enjoyed a peaceful night in my soft bed as I had lain naked on the floor.  He turned to face me and ordered me to make him some coffee and toast from the kitchen, warning me that I was allowed nothing for myself other than a drink of water from my dog bowl.

I crawled out of the bedroom and moved into the kitchen quickly and silently to prepare his breakfast, my stomach rumbling at the smell of coffee and my mouth drooling as I buttered his toast.  I could not bring myself to get down onto the floor to drink from my dog bowl, and I felt a wave of resentment that he got to eat normal food whereas I was denied basic food.  I moved quickly back into his presence and presented him humbly with his breakfast.

He placed it on the bedside cabinet and looked down at me as I knelt obediently before him naked.  He told me quietly that I needed to remember his preferences as he liked routine and order in the morning.  Then, placing his trainers on my thighs, he told me to remove his footwear.  He stood before me dressed in his running singlet and shorts, before slowly removing his singlet.  I looked at his bare upper torso for the first time in my life and immediately noticed his hair.  I stared up at his hairy chest and he raised his arms to show me his armpits.  “Look at my hairy body boy.  Look at it.  The body of your Master.  That’s it !”

He flexed his muscles before me.  Openly flaunting his manly, hairy physique.  “I’m the man now.  You just know that you’ll never have a hairy chest like this.  You’ll never have hairy armpits or hair above your little cock.  You’re just a boy now.  A pre-pubescent hairless little boy that will never have pubes again.”

“Feel your Masters body slaveboy,” he stated, motioning for me to rise to my feet.  I stood naked before him and he grabbed my hands, placing them on his chest.  Slowly, nervously, my shaking hands moved over his hairy chest and he thrust it forward, laughing triumphantly at his superiority over me.  I felt sick at doing this: as I rubbed his hairy chest mechanically and thought of how much he now controlled me, I wanted to scream in horror at my obvious subjugation to him.

“Now feel your own smooth body, little boy,” he crooned.  Instinctively, my hands touched my own chest, now hairless.  I pulled down to my crotch and felt my smooth cock and balls in horror at the difference.  He laughed openly as the horror registered: he was right.  He was now the man in control of my life.  I was forever only a boy, His boy.

And yet it still seemed so surreal as I knelt there and watched as he pulled down his shorts and stood naked before me.  He pushed me down to my knees again and I stared on a level with his hairy genitals.

“Open your mouth slave, nice and wide” he stated in a matter-of-fact way.  “And if you even think of closing it, your balls will wish they had never existed.”

I opened my mouth wide, in full knowledge that his word was law as far as I was concerned.  He stood closer in front of me, his legs either side of my torso as I knelt there mouth open, and shuddered at the certainty of some new indignity and humiliation.

“It’s time for me to give you a glimpse of your new life boy.  A life where you will serve me in the most demeaning, degrading ways.  It is your number one priority now.  To serve me.  Whenever and however I want.”

He paused and glared down at me.  I looked up at his body and felt his utter power over me.  “I know you must be thirsty and hungry, so I am going to give you a drink now.  A drink that you will have every day from now on.  Keep that mouth open wide.”

Realisation dawned as his hands moved down to pull his free cock forwards and aim it towards my mouth.  I watched appalled, mouth open, as his cock began to stiffen at the thought of what he intended to do to me.

“Yeah, a free man’s cock aint it boy ?  A real man’s cock.  It must be weird for you, staring up at my cock like this.  You knew me as your subordinate, but now you look at my cock now.  Look up at the cock that controls your life whilst your own cock is chained away.  But you better get used to it.  Its an important part of your world now.  Now open wide and receive your drink like a good little boy.”

What could I do ?  I looked up expectantly and felt my whole world disintegrate.  A spurt of piss shot from his cock, splashing my face and then was aimed directly into my open mouth.  Despite my reflex gag, I held it down and gulped down his piss as he used my mouth as a urinal.  It seemed to go on forever and my mind tried to blank out what I had become.  Its pretty hard to do that when you are staring up at a stream of urine, streaming into your open mouth.  The scent of piss filling your nostrils.  But of course, he would not let me forget anyway.  Kneeling naked and vulnerable as I was, I had no choice.  I gulped down the acrid tasting piss: an act that no normal guy would ever do.  Was it really only days ago that I was a normal guy leading a successful and busy life ?  And now I was a shaved, naked urinal.

The piss flow stopped, and I closed my mouth tasting the disgusting taste of his piss inside my mouth.  “Aaaah.  That was what I needed.  Hope you enjoyed that because its part of your daily routine now.  Every day.  You have no idea how long I have dreamed of using you as my urinal boy.  And now I can do it every day, piss boy.”

He leaned forward over my face and rubbed his cock down from my hair and forehead, down my cheek and over my lips.  A dribble of piss rolled into the corner of my eye, stinging me and causing me to blink.  I felt his piss enter my eye and wash over my vision.  “Now its time to make you my cocksucker.  You will lick my cock clean boy.  Don’t even think of hurting me or you will be castrated instantly,”  he snarled, slapping my bald balls unnecessarily.  Slowly, he moved his cock forward so that it rested on my quivering lips.  Reluctantly, I opened my mouth and his cock entered inside me for the first time.

For the first time in my life, I tasted cock. My mouth closed around the cock of another man and I gingerly felt its presence between my teeth. Carefully, I sucked his cock clean, drinking down his last dribbles of piss before he replaced it in his jeans.  My mind screamed COCKSUCKER.  An act I could never take away.  I was forever now a cocksucker.  Lewis’s cocksucking slave.  And I would repeat the act every day.  What had last week seemed impossible at football was now reality.

I moved my tongue around my mouth, tasting piss and the dried smegma from his cock.  My mind reeled in shock and I started to cry in humiliation.

He sat on the bed and took a long gulp of his coffee.  “Get used to it slave.  Your life has a new purpose now.  To serve me as my property.  My naked slave animal.  Everything about you will be designed for my benefit and amusement from now on.  You get no individuality, no personality, no choice.  Nothing.  Just here to serve me.”

He rubbed his own cock and tasted his toast as I knelt in shock.

“No individuality.  Mind you, I cant think of many guys your age and with your physique who live naked and bald as a living urinal to their Master.  Maybe you really are an individual.”  He laughed at his own joke, towering above me clothed and free.  “Funny how I get to keep my cock hidden away in my daily life.  Guess I am a normal guy.  And poor slaveboy has his cock on display for most of the day, naked and on display for the world to see.”

He toed my exposed and chained cock with his boots and I felt my cock twitch as I contemplated his words.  How could this be true and happening to me ?

“Lick my balls slave,” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, resting his arms back on the bed and thereby pushing his genitals up and out, his cock pointing upwards in anticipation.   Slowly and unwillingly, I moved forward and tried to mechanically block the action out of my mind.  I opened my mouth and started to lick my Master’s balls, dragging my tongue across his balls and tasting the sweat from his morning run.

Suddenly, Lewis sighed and stood up.  Towering above me naked, his cock erect, I felt more enslaved than ever.  He was naked like me, but the contrast between our bodies now marked me as a slave to him.  He told me to lie on my back and I quickly complied, wondering what was now to come.  Silently, he reached down and grabbed my ankles, pulling them into the air and then pushing them forwards relentlessly, until they rested either side of my head.

My body was on full display, face up, my legs pinned to the floor either side of my face.  I grunted in discomfort as Master held my legs pinned down to the floor and I opened my eyes in shock as he whispered “time to fuck your pussy slaveboy.”

“No, no,” I screamed.  “No, you cant do that to me Lewis.  Please.  Please don’t fuck me.  Please, I am a man.  Please. I beg you.”

He laughed aloud and I felt the sickening touch of his erect cock slide between my arse cheeks.  I closed my eyes and my lips silently begged for release from my impending fucking.  “Please no, please …” I murmured, whimpering in fear and distress.

I held my breath as I felt his cock touch my hole, and with one manly grunt and a triumphal cry of “Oh yes!” I grunted as I felt his cock enter inside me and conquer any remnants of my manhood.  He lay there in triumph for a few moments, savouring the degradation on my face.  And then he whispered “Open your eyes boy.”

I opened my eyes and looked up at the sneer on his face, my cheeks burning in shame as I contemplated that his cock was inside me and I was his bitch.  “Keep your eyes looking at me bitch as I fuck you, or I will give your balls a caning they wont forget.  I want you to look into my eyes as I fuck your pussy.”

I stared into his eyes as I felt his cock begin to piston in and out of my arse, an indescribably humiliating wave of pain and pleasure convulsing through my contorted body as I accepted his fucking.  I felt another man fucking inside me and I felt my manhood disappear forever.  I was being fucked up my arse like a woman or a queer and I was lying there accepting it, staring my Master in the face as he used me.

I lay there and listened to the sound of his cock slapping against my body, feeling the warmth and the sweat of his loins as he pushed in and out of my hole.  I felt the power of his thrust power up my arse, reducing me to a bumboy, a bitch.  I finally wiped away my tears as he shouted “Fuck you bitch” and I felt his cum wash inside my arse.  I was his cum receptacle and I lay there, slowly lowering my sore legs as he pulled out.  He stood above me and told me to kneel.  Feeling my legs quivering, I knelt before him and felt my arsehole squelch as some of my Master’s cum leaked out of my hole and onto the carpet.

I hung my head in shame, and felt the bile in my throat rise at the feelings of utter despondency.  I had been fucked.  I could never be a straight man again.  I shook in shock as he casually wiped his cock clean on my stubbly head and chuckled.

“Hope you enjoyed it fuckboy.  Your fuck holes are going to get an awful lot of use in your new lifestyle.”

I knelt there in misery, the cum dribbling steadily onto the floor beneath me from my abused arse as he grabbed a towel and moved towards the bathroom.

“Will be nice to fuck my bitch every morning before work,” he laughed as he passed me.  “I knelt there in misery, the cum dribbling steadily onto the floor beneath me from my abused arse as he grabbed a towel and moved towards the bathroom.

“At least you will be able to tell your boss you are getting regular sex when you present yourself this morning, eh bitch?”

“Yes Master,” I whispered, wondering how I could run to work with my abused hole aching and my legs quivering after my pounding.  I was nothing but an abused bitch, and I could never deny it again.  In the time usually reserved for breakfast, I had this morning drank his piss, sucked his cock and then been fucked.   

I was a total bitch.

Chapter 21 ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

I knelt there miserably on all fours in my former bedroom, experiencing the shame of Master’s cum dribbling slowly from my recently fucked arse as he showered.  I closed my eyes and panted, not quite believing that I had just been fucked by another man.  I continued to kneel as he re-entered and dried himself, informing me that tomorrow I would be washing and drying his body for him but that he was being kind today as I had experienced my first use as his bitch boy.

Finally, he told me to stand and I looked at him, fully dressed in his suit as he tied his expensive shoes.  I felt the massive difference as I knelt there naked before him, and realised I no longer had any real clothing.  It seemed increasingly unlikely I would ever experience life in a suit again.

He told me that my item of clothing, my only item of clothing, was in the broom cupboard and I should go and put it on.  I did so, silently and obediently, pulling the obscenely tight and cheap fabric over my abused body before I reported to him.  Barefoot, with my genitals outlined starkly and uncomfortably clamped in chastity inside the slave suit, I stood before my expensively dressed Master.

“You start work in fifteen minutes slave, better not keep Master Dennis waiting.”  I sighed and turned to leave, knowing it would take me over ten minutes if I ran hard the whole way.  I was beginning to accept that as a slave, I ran everywhere.  I looked down at myself and shivered at the certain prospect that I would soon be in the street again dressed like this.  Master Lewis told me that I was no longer allowed a key to my former apartment, as animals did not carry their own key.  He told me that if I returned, I should strip, kneel and knock.  If he was not at home, I would wait in my slave suit, sitting silently outside the front door for my Master’s return.  I pointed out the tight metal collar locked with a small padlock around my neck and begged Lewis to remove it, but he laughed aloud and told me that it was a visible sign of my slavery and it would not be removed.

Dejectedly, I left my apartment block, wearing only my slave suit and the signs of my slavery around my neck and my cock.  Alone in my misery, I did not register the shadowy figure watching me from his car.  As I pounded barefoot through the streets of the city centre, desperate to get to work before Dennis had cause to punish me, I did not notice the car following me from a discrete distance.  As I entered the side trade entrance to my work building – so distinct from the former executive entrance that I was used to entering – I turned to register the car speeding away along the street, but did not understand its significance.

Quickly, panting in exhaustion, I descended into the basement.  On entering the damp basement, I looked quickly around and saw no evidence of Dennis.  With a sigh of relief, I peeled off my slave suit and threw it over a barrel to one side of the room.  Humbly, I knelt naked on the cold concrete floor and awaited my superior black Master’s arrival.

After a while of kneeling naked, I heard the door behind me swing open and the deep, low chuckle of Dennis signalled his arrival.  I heard him fumbling around behind me and felt myself shaking in anticipation of what he would do to me.  Finally, he came into my vision and settled himself in front of me on a chair.

“Getting used to slavery boy?  I like your slave collar,” he intoned, running his fingers across the tight band around my throat.  “My, how the mighty have fallen.”

He laughed aloud, before lighting a cigarette and leaning back in his seat, taking a deep inhalation of his cigarette.  He stared at me and I squirmed in discomfort as my knees felt the cold concrete beneath me.  He knelt forward, moving his attention to my clamped cock, chained to the underside of my balls.  He ran his fingers down the tattooed length of my cock and I closed my eyes as he scratched the sensitive head of my imprisoned cock.

“I am going to enjoy breaking you boy.  Breaking you from your image of yourself as a straight jock boy to a total slave.”  He paused and let his words sink in, as I knelt naked before him.  “Open your mouth slaveboy, nice and wide.”

I opened my mouth and looked in horror as he moved towards me.  Casually, he flicked the ash from his cigarette end into my open mouth and sat back in his seat again.  He did not speak, he simply stared at me.  He sat in comfort and stared at my naked form kneeling at his feet.  For ten minutes I knelt there and experienced what it was like to be his ashtray, mouth open and waiting for him to deposit his ash in my mouth.  He did not even speak to me, making me feel even more of an object rather than a man.

Finally, he signalled that he had finished his cigarette by stubbing it out calmly on my tongue, looking into my eyes as he did so in a silent dare to challenge his authority.  Submissively, I accepted my place, wincing in discomfort at the burning sensation and then feeling the slime of the ash as it coated the inside of my open throat.

He smiled smugly at his complete power over me before stating “Must be hard to swallow all that ash ashtray.  Let me give you something to coat it with.”  I knelt there and watched as he hawked up phlegm and spit from the back of his own throat, leaning over me and drooling the slime into my open mouth.  I felt a compulsion to heave with this disgusting act, a total submission, but knew better than to disappoint him: I was terrified of what Dennis could do following the revelations of my total slavery to him yesterday.

With a smile, he told me to close my mouth and hold out my hands.  I closed my mouth and gulped down the acrid taste of Master Dennis’s ash and phlegm, then gingerly raised my hands before me.  I looked down at my hands as the cigarette butt was placed in my palms.

“Whenever I reward you with my cigarette butt boy, you are to immediately thank me and place it where it belongs boy.”

I felt the sting of humiliation flutter across my chest and the corners of my eyes as I looked up at him and stammered “Yes Master, thank You for the cigarette butt Master.”  With shaking hands, I reached behind me and pushed the cigarette butt inside my arse until I felt it slide inside of me.  And then, submissively, I turned around and presented my arse to my Master on his command, feeling his fingers probe the inside of my sphincter to feel the butt inside me.  On command, I returned to a kneeling position and licked his fingers clean, tasting the mustiness of my own arse and the remnants of Master Lewis’s cum.

“Now I have a special job for you today boy.  I am taking some important deliveries today at regular intervals and my associates will be in and out of the place all day, so I don’t want you in the way.  You will serve in another way.  Follow me.”

I followed him as he crossed the basement area and we came to a door.  Taking a key from his pocket, he unlocked the padlocked door and opened it wide.  Inside was a bare brick storeroom the size of a toilet cubicle, completely empty with a stone floor.  I was sure that it had been intended as a store cupboard, but it would be my cell for the rest of the day.  He motioned for me to move into the cell and turned me around so that I faced the door.  Taking something from his pocket, he grabbed my collar and pushed me against the back wall.  I heard the click of a lock.  He then reached behind for another padlock and squatted down on the floor.  Grabbing the ring underneath my balls, I felt it pull down as another padlock was added to it and watched as he clipped the padlock to a piece of chain.  Pulling the chain tight in both directions, he locked it to hooks on the wall on both sides of the cell.

I could do nothing but squat.  My chained balls prevented me from standing and my chained collar prevented me from sitting. So I squatted there in confusion, legs spread wide and fully exposed.

He reached into his rear pocket and pulled out an object.  He moved towards me and opened my mouth with his fingers.  Silently, he pushed something into my mouth and buckled the harness in place behind my head before another click informed me that it was locked in place.  I quickly realised that I had a metal ring inside my mouth and closing it was now impossible.  My mouth was forced wide open in a large O shape.  Dennis stood before me and smiled.  “Urinal service is an important skill for you to perfect boy,” he stated calmly.  “When a man comes in here to use you, you will present your urinal mouth and accept his piss with silent submission.  You will look into his eyes at all times as he pisses into and over you slaveboy.  Do you understand me urinal boy?”

I nodded and grunted, picturing the mental image of myself as I knelt here like this as a perfect urinal for men to use.  I would not even spend the day as a man but rather an object, a receptacle for the piss of other men.

“Better get you started then boy,” he grinned as he sensed my degradation and shame at my totally exposed and ridiculous appearance as a squatting urinal boy.  Slowly and deliberately, he opened his fly and pulled out his long black cock.  He paused and looked me in the eye and I understood my position.  Shaken and demoralised, I looked up into his eyes and felt my total submissiveness, vulnerability and exposure.

I jumped back startled as the piss hit me in the face, and then shocked as his aim entered the O of my mouth.  I felt my mouth fill with his piss.  I could feel my mouth filling, and the sound of water gargling inside the cavity of my mouth.  I held the piss there in my mouth, as he aimed out  again and down the front of my chest and stomach, down over my genitals, leaving me drenched in piss.

Finally he finished and I squatted there in abject misery, sensing the ridiculous nature of my position as human urinal.  I knelt there as he wiped his cock on my hair stubble, concentrating on holding the piss in my mouth.

“Swallow it piss boy.  Anything placed in your mouth will be swallowed slave,” he growled.  Sobbing in fear and desperation, I lowered my tongue and heaved as I felt the piss trickle down my throat.  Sensing the need to get it over with, I lowered my tongue and gulped down the warm piss in one large gulp.

He chuckled and laughed aloud, before turning his back and closing the door as he left me in pitch darkness.  And so I squatted in the darkness, feeling the piss drip down my body and form a puddle underneath me.  Tasting the piss in the back of my throat as I squatted in the darkness and contemplated the depths of my humiliation, now reduced to a mere object.

I remained there squatting for a while, hearing sounds outside as vehicles came and went, and the sounds of men talking and laughing.  I squatted in misery, my calves burning and my mouth aching.  Suddenly, I heard the sound of voices moving towards me and, with a sickening feeling, watched the door to my cell fling open.  Dennis stood before me, and behind him stood two other heavily set males.  Dennis ignored my presence and continued his conversation with his companions as he unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock.  I looked up into his eyes as he stared straight ahead at the wall and casually filled my mouth with piss before pissing down over my naked body.  With a shake, he put his cock away and moved out of the cell without any acknowledgement as I gulped down his piss.  I felt like a complete object, not even treated as alive, just pissed over then left.  And my heart sank as the second and then the third man entered my stall and pissed over me without any form of acknowledgement at all.

The door closed and my head sank onto my chest, as low as the chain would allow it.  I felt the tears streaming down my face as I realised what I had become, my depilated body covered in a sheen of piss.

It was an hour or so before Dennis returned, this time alone.  Again, he pissed over me without acknowledgement but this time, before he left, he balanced four cigarette butts on my squatting thighs before turning and leaving.

I could feel the anger inside me rise as he left without acknowledging me again and I almost threw the butts across the cell.  But what good would it do ?  I could not deny my place and my total submission.  And so, defeated, I took the butts one at a time, and pushed them up my arse.  The coating of cum no doubt helped their slide further up my abused arse.

The rest of the day continued like this, with Dennis using me on many occasions as his urinal.  Over the course of the day, three more men used me silently.  Only one looked down at me with some form of pity, seeming to understand the depths of my despair with a hint of sympathy in his eyes.  Nevertheless, he still pissed over me and left without a word.  Four more cigarette butts were crammed up my arsehole before late afternoon arrived and by this time, my legs were shaking in the strain of my enforced squatting and my jaws were numb with their exertion of holding my mouth wide open.

I stank like a toilet and my mouth tasted foul, coated in urine.  I had pissed myself as well, adding to the large puddle at my feet, and my body was a stinking sticky mess of dried piss coating me all over.  My bare feet were resting in a puddle of piss and I shook with a mixture of cold and humiliation.

It was reaching the point when I did not know how much longer I could hold this position when I heard a shout across the basement floor, only yards from where I squatted.

“Anyone about?” it shouted.  I froze in amazement, in terror and shock.  “Hello.  Is anyone here?” shouted the unmistakeable voice of Ben, my best mate.

I squatted there in naked despair and my head was spinning.  I wanted to scream to Ben to get out of here, to not put himself at risk like this.  Dennis’s voice shouted from the distance and I held my breath as he came closer to Ben’s voice.

“What can I do for you sir?” asked Dennis, in a submissive and quiet voice that was very different from the cocky control that he held over me.

“Yeah just wondering if you can help me.  My mate Gary Walker used to work in the offices here and something has happened to him.  I’ve been up to his office, but the workers up there say he has been moved down into maintenance.  That can’t be the case.  Gary’s one of the firms top people.  But this is the only maintenance place I can find, and it took me a while to get down here.  Do you know anything about it?”

“No Sir.  No Gary down here Sir.  Never heard of him Sir,” Dennis replied, a hint of uncertainty in his voice that I wondered if Ben would pick up on.

“Well I’ve looked everywhere else in the building and he definitely came into this building this morning.  I followed him.  He was wearing some strange maintenance type overall thing and he didn’t even have any shoes on.  Something weird is going on.”

There was a pause and then a muffled cry of exclamation.  “That’s it,” cried Ben.  “That’s the thing he was wearing there.”  He had obviously spotted my slave tunic, draped over the barrel at the side of the basement.  My heart pounded in my chest as a glimpse of freedom shot across my brain.  Could this be the moment I had begun to believe would never happen ?  I held my breath in anticipation.

“Come on man.  There is some weird shit going on here.  Tell me what is going on or I go to the fucking police.”

Another pause, and then Dennis’s voice.  “Oh! I know who you mean.  I didn’t realise his name was Gary.  You must be talking about the new plumber guy.  He’s in that room over there.”

Time seemed to stand still as I heard the sound of footsteps approaching my cell.  I watched in slow motion as the handle turned and the door opened.  I looked up at Ben and watched the shock register on his face as he saw me squatting there, drenched in piss.

And then I shouted a guttural scream through my gag as I watched Dennis raise the spanner behind his back and crack down hard on the back of Ben’s head.  My best mate, my saviour, slumped to the ground at my feet, his cheek resting in the puddle of piss.

Chapter 22 ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

Moaning into my gag and crying with fear at Ben’s treatment, I strained against my bonds to try and help him.  However, I remained mute and useless in my chains, squatting there naked with Ben at my feet.   Straining my neck down as far as the padlocked collar would allow, I could see that his face lay sidewards on the cold concrete and his open mouth lay in the middle of the piss puddle, piss seeping inside his lips.

Dennis looked down at him and then at me.  He shook his head and laughed.  “Remember that escape from slavery will never be an option for you boy.  Get it out of your head.  We cant afford for that to happen now.  No one is coming to rescue you ever.  We have just got to decide what we will do with your boyfriend here.”

I felt the fire flash across my eyes and stomach as I tried to lurch free of the wall towards him.  Ben and myself were mates, great mates, not queers.  We were football buddies, hetero guys who didn’t even think of queer stuff.  I tried to form the words “Let him go” through my O ring gag, but no intelligible reply came out of my mouth and Dennis sneered at me, before closing the door, padlocking it and leaving us both in darkness.

I shuffled uncomfortably, terrified at Ben’s condition.  He had come here to try and help me.  He had obviously realised that something was terribly wrong with the way I had been behaving.  He was bound to realise that.  We were like brothers.  I didn’t even know if he was alive as he lay there in the dark and I listened breathlessly for any sounds of him moving.  Outside the door, I could hear the sound of Dennis talking across the room and I realised the certain understanding that I was completely controlled and helpless, at the mercy of my captors, not even able to help my mate who lay at my feet.  I squatted in misery.

Suddenly I heard a groan from the floor and the sound of movement as Ben’s body moved slightly and my heart leapt in the knowledge that he was ok.  I could see in the dim light that he had raised his head above the floor and the piss, and was shaking it in dazed confusion.

“What the fuck …..” he began groggily, his head only inches from my imprisoned naked cock and his body lying between my outstretched knees.  I moaned incoherently into my gag and his brain must have remembered the last thing he saw before he was knocked out.  The sight of me naked, collared, chained to the wall, drenched in piss.

Shakily, he sat up and faced me, trying to make out my features in the dark.  He pushed his hand forward and made contact with my knee.  I felt him spitting, and expelling the piss from his mouth.  It no doubt disgusted him as it much as it did me, even though I had been drinking piss all day as a human urinal.  I felt his hand brush against my shaved leg and he retracted it quickly, not wishing to act in an unseemly manner.  After all that I had been through, the mistreatment and the total disregard for me as a human being, I wanted him to hold me.  To tell me that everything would be ok.  But instead he rose to his feet and moved uncertainly towards the door.  His movement was shaky and his breath ragged after the shock of his head blow.  But he tried the door and discovered he was imprisoned in the stinking cell with me.  He slumped down, back to the door, and I saw him hold his sore head in his hands.

I could not reply, could not move.  Chained in place as a human urinal.  I had been forced to come to accept what was happening to me, my mind becoming accustomed to ritual humiliation and abuse.  But now I felt a new wave of shame as I thought of my mate only yards away.

It must have been ten minutes that we waited.  Then suddenly, the sound of a padlock unlocking the door broke the tense silence.  Light flooded the cell as the door opened and Ben fell slightly backwards.  I could see immediately that he was in no fit state to fight, his hair matted heavily in piss and his eyes wide with fright and anguish and shock, but nevertheless he was instantly booted in the stomach by one of the blacks who stood before me.  He curled up in a foetal position and groaned in agony as they rendered him even more unable to resist.  I watched as his arms were picked up by Dennis’s goons, and he was dragged across the stone floor.  When they had him in the centre of the floor, they dropped him face down on the concrete, pulling off his shoes, socks and ripping off his t-shirt so that he lay there dressed only in his jeans.  Then pinning him down on the floor they cuffed his hands behind his back and taped his legs together with black masking tape.  Finally, they wrapped the tape around his mouth and lifted him off the ground.  I watched as he was carried in bondage across to a car, and unceremoniously dumped in the boot.  They closed down the boot and crossed the floor to pick up the remnants of Ben’s clothing.  Suddenly it was as if he had not been there, and he seemed further away than ever when I heard the car engine start and watched the car driven out of the basement area and away.

I squatted there stunned.  What were they going to do to Ben ?  I could not even sag in despair, chained as I was.  But I felt the total captivity, vulnerability and despondency of a helpless slave.  Dennis’s shadow fell across the door of my cell and stared at my tear-stained cheeks and the quivering mess of flesh that was my naked body.  Wordlessly, he moved towards me and unlocked both my genitals and neck from their uncomfortable positions.  My muscles shook in relief from the strain as I collapsed onto my knees on the piss soaked concrete at his feet.

“We need to get you out of the way boy whilst we sort out your boyfriend,” he intoned, rubbing his hand across the back of my bowed head.   “So you will be going into storage for a while.”

He looped his fingers into the chain link at the back of my collar and pulled me up, and I wobbled uncertainly on my tired legs before following him naked out into the basement area.

He used his keys to remove my metal collar and also, to my surprise, he removed my genital chain so that my cock was free of its bondage.  He then pointed to the floor and I saw what appeared to be some sort of wetsuit.  “Put it on,” he snarled.

Obediently, I started to pull the tight rubber over my feet and legs and pulled it upwards over my knees and thighs.  I quickly realised that this was not a wetsuit but some form of rubber body suit.  My feet were encased in a single piece of rubber and my legs were sealed together.  Still I pulled up and felt my arse encased in tight rubber.  To my surprise there was a hole where the crotch would be and as I pulled my arms into their rubber sleeves and pulled the rubber body suit up over my torso, I realised that both my genitals and my abs would be bare.  Finally I pulled the suit on fully and stood there in bondage as Master Dennis padlocked the suit in place at the front of my neck.  Rubber encased me tightly all over and I felt completely restricted.  Without a word, he produced a length of thin chain and attached it to the padlock at my neck.  The other end was attached to my cock ring and I looked down at my cock, pulled upwards over my chiselled abs by the tight chain.  Already I felt encased and trapped, but Dennis was nowhere near finished.  Pulling my arms behind me, he strapped them together behind my back.  Then he attached further straps around my ankles and knees, binding them tightly together.  He stood before me and took my exposed balls into his hands.  With a chuckle, he produced something from his pocket and I held my breath as I felt him wrap something around the base of my cock tightly, pulling my balls down uncomfortably into the base of my scrotum and leaving them uncomfortable and tender to the touch.

I wondered what on earth was happening to me, and watched as he carried a heavy circular weight across the floor towards me.  Still wordlessly, he clipped the weight onto a ring at the tips of my bound toes and I wondered why he was weighing down my feet.

I stood there confused and Dennis went out of my sight.  Then suddenly, he came behind me and I felt something pulled over my head.  It was some sort of rubber hood and he fastened it over my head so that only my mouth was free.  My eyes were encased in rubber.  Finally, I lifted my chin as Dennis attached a long leather collar around my neck, forcing my head into an upwards tilt.

I heard the sound of a winch above my head and something heavy pulled down onto the top of my encased head.  I felt Dennis snap what appeared to be a chain to either side of my head, where circular pieces of metal were embedded into my rubber hood.  Then, with the sound of machinery, I gasped as I felt myself pulled upwards into the air.

I was suspended and totally immobile in mid air, my feet pulled downwards by the weight underneath them and my whole body bound so that I could not move as my feet pulled me straight down.  I hung there in the air and felt Dennis as he rubbed his hands over my bound body.

“Nearly there slaveboy.  I want you completely out of the way as I will be leaving to sort out your boyfriend.  I wont be back for until Wednesday morning, so I need to put you somewhere for …..” he paused  “will be about 36 hours.”

Suddenly, I felt Dennis’s hands at my lips, and he pried my lips apart.  I pulled back in shock as something entered my mouth, and my lips and gums clamped around what felt like a diving bit similar to those used in snorkels or diving equipment.

“Underneath you is a tank of lukewarm water slaveboy, embedded in the floor of the basement.  It has a simple manhole cover that is one of several lids to tanks.  They are storage tanks for different parts of the building’s central heating.  This manhole cover is on the basement floor normally, but it is currently above your head.  The chain over your head is attached to the bottom of the manhole cover.”

He paused as I contemplated with horror what would be happening to me.  “This little water tank will be your home for the next 36 hours, locked away in dark suspension in the floor of the basement.  You will be suspended underwater like this for the next 36 hours and no one will ever know you are here.  The tube in your mouth is attached to a hole in the manhole cover and it is obviously your only access to breathing, and the outside world.  Hope no one blocks the little hole, but chances of that are very slim.  I have locked your mouth in place boy, so it wont be coming out.”

My mind swirled at the thought of what was about to happen and yet I was once again completely powerless. 

“Have a good rest slaveboy and you had better hope nothing happens to me.  Otherwise, it will be a long, long time before anyone finds you locked away in that small tank.”

With the sound of machinery, I felt myself begin to lower and then the feeling of water around my encased legs as I was lowered into the tank.  I felt my exposed cock and abs cover in water and finally felt the water lap around my neck.  As the water covered the top of my head, I heard the cover slam into place above me and I hung in suspension inside the water tank.  I could not move.  I could neither hear, see nor feel anything.  I whimpered in fear at the realisation that this would be my existence until Dennis decided to release me.  Completely powerless.  Total isolation and bondage.  I felt the vibration of a car passing over me, and then total silence and stillness.  I was alone, divorced from the rest of the world, only my cock exposed in the imprisoning water of my isolation tank.

Chapter 23 ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

Words cannot begin to describe what it feels like to be entombed in a watery grave where you are unable to move at all, your feet weighted down and your head suspended by an invisible chain above you.  Only my cock and balls floated free in the water tank, jutting out free from bondage for the first time in days, and yet I was of course unable to give myself any form of release alone in the dark.

The temperature of the water was just warm enough not to make me freeze but cold enough to make my time uncomfortable.  And the sole focus of my attention rested on breathing into my mouth tube, conscious of the fact that my life depended on maintaining the mouth tube and its source of air.  If the mouth tube had come free, I would have been helpless to regain it, my hands bound in their rubber prison.

I closed my eyes to rest and I believe that I did gain some sort of restless sleep - if that is what it could be called - but my mind was in turmoil, terrified at Dennis’s words.  If anything happened to him, or he decided I was not worth the trouble, I would die here alone in this coffin of water.  All it would take is for someone to park over my tiny airhole, above me in the cellar floor, and my life would be snuffed out.  That was how cheap my precious life was to my captors.  I felt sick with fear and also a sense of deep resentment and anger that they could so readily treat me like this.  Like some lower form of life to be thrown into endless bondage and imprisonment until they had dealt with more important matters.  I was no longer a human being in their eyes, I was an object for them to use and abuse as much as they wished.  A piece of flesh for their amusement and torture.

I thought about Ben.  Was he destined for the same fate as me ?  Would he be tortured ? Even killed ?  I mulled through the possibilities and could only conclude that they could not let him go.  Not knowing what he had seen.  If they could enslave me so completely, then surely Ben would follow me.  Would I see him again ?  All of these questions were completely out of my control of course.  They would do with Ben as they wished: they would control his life with the same callous disregard for humanity that they showed when enslaving me.  As I struggled in complete bondage, alone in my underwater cell, I accepted that my life was completely at their mercy.  There was no way out for me from eternal slavery.

I don’t know how long I was in the tank, helplessly entombed.   But as I floated, eyes closed, in the endless darkness I became aware of the vibrations of movement above me in the free world.  Suddenly, with a jolt, I felt myself being pulled upwards and my mind both rejoiced in being allowed back into the world, but also sank at the certain knowledge that my humiliation and slavery would soon continue.

I was manipulated into a position where I could stand again, and as I tried to rest my weight on my legs, I felt my legs begin to collapse under me.  My head was unchained from above and I fell forwards into a crumpled heat on the floor.  A combination of tiredness, the relief from mental anguish and the restriction of any muscle use over my time in the tank meant I was physically unable to stand, and I heaved a silent sigh of relief on the floor.  I still could see nothing, my head encased in its hood, but I suddenly made out the sounds of several people around me as I lay there helplessly.  I listened to the sound of the manhole cover as it was placed back over the water tank, and then listened to the garbled laughter of men around me as my ears adjusted to the change in pressure.

Suddenly, I felt myself being lifted into a standing position with men either side of me and I stood shakily on my uncertain legs as my bonds were removed and pulled down to reveal my naked body again.  Before my eyes were allowed to see again, I felt my cock being pulled down and chained back underneath my balls again and then felt the pull on my hood as it was lifted off over my head to leave me standing naked.

The basement was not well lit, but my eyes were blinded from the light as they adjusted to once more being able to see.  I blinked and squinted as the hazy shapes before me began to focus, and realised that I was being held upright by two of Dennis’s goons.  Sat in front of me was Dennis and another guy.  I thought it was initially Lewis, but as my eyes focused, I realised it was ….. James ?  No, it couldn’t be James.

James, my former team mate.  My former drinking buddy.  And here he was, sat drinking a beer with Dennis as I stood before them naked.  James had witnessed my total subjugation and helplessness as I had exited the tank and now he sat with Dennis, my tormentor.  My eyes swam in and out of focus and my mind was not working correctly, but it was definitely him.  I felt mortified and confused as I stared at James, my mind in turmoil and my mouth unable to move from exhaustion.

“Look at the fucking state of him.  Like I told you, he’s completely fucked,” I heard Dennis chuckle.  “He doesn’t even know what day it is, he is controlled so completely.  He is completely broken now.  Must be hard to recognise your all-conquering captain eh?”

“Well I cant say I miss him,” James retorted.  “As I said to Lewis last week, fucking him over would help me and it has done.  I’m the new captain already: the guys know this heap of shit aint coming back.”

My ears pricked up and I looked up at him.  Our eyes met and I felt the vestiges of my manhood flare up inside me, what little remained of my dignity.  “You knew about this?  You helped with this?” I spat at James, trying to wrestle my arms free from the two burly guards who held me upright and naked, to no avail.

“You helped to enslave me James?” I cried, my voice breaking in anguish.  “No, no, no …….. We were supposed to be fucking buddies James.  Team mates.  Drinking mates.  You were supposed to be my mate.  And you sold me into a life of slavery just so you could become captain.”

I wailed a cry of anguish from inside my soul and slumped onto my knees on the floor.  “Fuck you James,” I screamed.  “How could you do this to me?  I am a young man like you, and you have destroyed my life.  You have destroyed my future.  You have made me a slave.”

James stood up and nodded at the two goons, who pulled me to my feet so that I stood naked before him.  He stood before me and stared into my eyes, and I felt his hand run down my shaved chest and abs, down to my balls.  Silently, he ran his finger down the shaft of my cock and weighed my balls in his hand.  “You fucked yourself slave boy.  No longer the arrogant prick any more are you, super captain ?  No longer the love machine pretty boy hunk are you?  Look pretty fucking different now slave boy.  As you should be.  Pretty fucked now.  And I love to see you this way, no longer a man.  Naked and fucked.”  As he shouted the words “naked” and “fucked” he punched me hard in the stomach, and I groaned in despair, pinned back my arms.

The goons dropped me and I fell to the floor, as James kicked me mercilessly several times over my crumpled body.  I heaved sobs of utter despair and self-pity, as I thought that even my former drinking buddy had been compliant in my enslavement.  I could not comprehend how anyone could do this to me, let alone someone who I counted on as a friend.  I thought of my shame when James had seen me practically naked on the high street, and when he had encouraged laughter towards me in the showers at football practice.  And all the time he had known what had happened to me.  All the time, he had been involved in my enslavement.

I shook myself out of my despair at the sound of Dennis’s voice.  “Enough crying slave,” he boomed.  “Unless you want another 48 hours in the tank.”  I stifled my sob and shook my head.  I could not believe I had spent two days in the water tank, and I knew with certainty that Dennis would not hesitate to place me back in there.

“Kneel up slave,” he stated.  And with exhausted limbs, I knelt up and faced the seated Dennis and the smiling James.  I gritted my teeth in defiance, desperate to salvage some pride before my captors, the difference between these free men and my total helplessness and slavery so apparent as I knelt there.

Dennis turned to James and grinned.  “You’ll like this,” he grinned before turning to me.  “There are nine cigarette butts that you have been keeping for me boy,” Dennis growled.  “Line them up on the floor so we can see them.”

I closed my eyes in anguish and shuddered at the utter degradation and humiliation that now ruled my existence.  I had no choice but to obey, my aching body desperate for some relief from my endless service and abuse.  With silent desperation, I spread my legs and bent forward, resting my face on the cold concrete as I reached behind me.  To the sound of chuckling and open laughter from my unremitting tormentors, I dug my finger into my arsehole and began to fish out the cigarette butts that had been crammed inside for three days.  They came out easily enough, crammed in tightly as they were.

Despite all of my humiliation, my cheeks still burned with humiliation as I lined up the nine butts on the floor before the two free men seated before me.  And as Dennis commanded me to eat them, I bowed my head in total submission as I silently chewed on the slimy butts until all nine had been consumed. 

James stood up and towered above me as I knelt there in abject misery.  “I do miss our drinking games slave boy,” he snarled.  “Let’s have one more for old times’ sake eh ?  Open your mouth slave boy so the new team captain can give you a thank you drink.”

I opened my mouth and closed my eyes in submission, as I heard James unzip his trousers.  Conscious of my commands from Dennis, I gulped down all of James’s piss, as he used my mouth as his urinal.  I closed my eyes and tried to prevent the silent tears coursing down my enslaved face as he wiped his cock on my forehead.

I knelt there, head bowed, as James sat down again.

“So – just to make sure then – lets clarify the situation,” I heard Dennis say, turning to James.

“We need to make sure that no suspicion is aroused from two of your team mates suddenly disappearing.  You need to be smart there James.  The other one wont be seen in public any more, but you can make it be known that he has gone away to sort his head out after gay boy here has revealed his new life.  Make sure all the team know about your former captain’s decision to start his new gay lifestyle.  That way there wont be any worry about why he has suddenly left his football behind, and why Benny boy has disappeared.”

I wanted to shout out, to curse them for their destruction of my life.  But it would serve no purpose.

“Yeah, will be easy.  The guys all have heard about his exploits now.  They are all surprised but they have moved on.  He can live his new life as a bitch without any problems now.  Though I must admit I would like to see his meeting with his family tomorrow,” James laughed.

I looked up in confusion.  Dennis glared at me and grinned a sadistic smile.  “Yes that’s right boy, your Master Lewis is taking you to see your family tomorrow.  We need to make sure we cover our tracks since your heroic buddy Ben got involved, don’t we?  So they can see what a fucked up piece of shit you are.  Don’t want them worrying about what has happened to you.  Want them to see how you are a fucked up piece of man flesh now don’t we?”

How could my family see me like this?  How could I pretend to be a normal guy now?

“Anyway, I want to claim my prize before I go,” I heard James say, rising to his feet.  He came over towards me and grabbed me by my metal collar.  I followed him across the floor, dragged by my collar, and winced as he pushed me down on my stomach over a workbench, my upper body spread over the dirty surface.  With a kick he spread my legs and I heard with horror the sound of his belt undoing and his trousers being pulled down.

“Better wear a rubber James,” I heard Dennis shout as he passed by.  “Lewis wants to start fucking him soon, and he wants him kept disease free.”

I held my breath in anticipation, waiting for the imminent invasion of my arse by my former mate.  I had no doubt that any return to friendship or normality was impossible.  I had no dignity left.

Chapter 24 ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

After my former friend James had fucked me hard and unrelentingly for over an hour, I had no energy left.  I could barely stand after he pulled out and wiped his cock over my abused arse.  I crumbled to my knees and felt the cum drip from my violated arse.  I looked up at my former friend with tears in my eyes, my subjugation complete and a deep understanding implicit between us that he had destroyed my manhood forever.  I returned back to Master Lewis’s apartment – my own former apartment – tied naked to the floor of Master Dennis’s transit van.  Although the journey was short I saw none of it, collapsing instead in an exhausted sleep on the cold floor of the van.  My legs quivering in exhaustion tied in the air above me via a short chain to my balls.

Dennis removed my chains when we arrived, and I was escorted up to Lewis’s apartment wearing only my slave tunic.  After a brief exchange between Dennis and Lewis, I was left with Master Lewis and followed his command without question, to strip naked and kneel at his feet.  My head was spinning with exhaustion and I was relieved when Lewis commanded me to follow him, and I crawled into my cell for the night.  Chained naked to the wall, I felt my consciousness slipping away but was roused by Lewis presenting me with some legal documents.  No longer caring, I signed and dated as he commanded and consequently lost the ownership of my former apartment.  I now owned nothing, but I didn’t care any more.  I was beginning to think in basic terms, caring only about rest, food and obeying my Master without question so that I avoided punishment.  I was becoming an animal.  In return for my signing, he threw bowls of boiled rice and tepid water on the floor, and I ate them silently and ravenously as if they were a wonderful banquet.

As he turned to switch out the light and leave me alone in my cell, I dared to speak.

“Please Sir, please Lewis Sir,” I pleaded, humbly and meekly.

“What is it slave?” Lewis replied, staring down at me.  “I’ve got a night out with my mates at the pub.  What do you want?”

“Ben Sir.  Is he …… is he alright?”

Lewis smirked down at me.  “Depends what you mean by alright slave.  He’s alive if that’s what you mean.  But he’s got a brand new life just like you to come to terms with.”  He laughed derisively.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll take you to see him when he has recovered from his surgery.”

He looked down at me and smirked, no doubt revelling in the shell of a human being who lay naked in chains on the floor before him.  He closed the door and bolted it, and the sound of the light switch threw me into total darkness.  I listened to the sound of him shaving, the spray of after shave and then the sound of the front door as he left for a night out on the town.  Drinking and socialising.  I lay there chained naked in slavery, exhausted in the early evening.  Whilst Master Lewis enjoyed his leisure time, I realised that leisure, freedom were impossible concepts for me now.  Socialising was no longer possible in my new existence as a slave.  Within minutes, I crashed into an exhausted sleep.  And dreamt of what had happened to Ben, my former best mate.

The next morning, I awoke to the sight of Master Lewis entering my cell, bending down and unlocking my neck from the wall.  Drowsily, I rose onto my knees and followed his command to open my mouth, gulping down his morning piss carefully so that I didn’t spill any of it, before sucking his cock clean and placing it carefully back in his shorts.  He was dressed in running gear and told me to prepare him some toast and coffee by the time he returned.  He reminded me that both were off limits as far as I was concerned.

As he went out for his run, I prepared his breakfast.  With the acrid taste of his piss in my mouth, I contemplated having some breakfast myself, but knew that he would have set some form of trap and I would be severely punished if I did, and so I salivated at the toast and coffee as I waited on my knees for Master’s return.  I drank some water from my bowl on the floor and knelt in waiting.  He returned and started to drink his coffee.  With a smirk, he told me to remove his shorts and jock, which I did silently.  Carefully, he smeared some jam on his balls and, chuckling, told me to eat my breakfast.  As he stood before me dressed in his running shirt, eating his toast, I knelt before him and licked his sweaty balls clean.

When he had finished, he went into the shower and stood under the cascading water.  “Get in,” he called to me and I hesitantly climbed into the bath before him.  “You need to learn to clean my body slave boy, so get to it,” he stated in a matter-of-fact manner.  It felt perverse to do such a thing, but I took the soap and began to soap Master’s body, rubbing my hands all over his muscular body, legs, genitals and up his crack.  He turned around and ordered me to massage his back, and I rubbed my soapy hands all over his back and shoulders, much to his apparent pleasure as he moaned and stretched his muscles against the wall.

After cleaning him thoroughly, he told me to get under the shower and wash myself but warned me that slaves are not permitted soap.  I luxuriated under the warm water for a few moments before he switched off the water.  Whereas he towelled himself dry, I was left to stand in the corner of the bathroom, facing the wall, for half an hour until my body dried itself.

When my body was dry, I was called into the bedroom to face a newly dressed Master, dressed smartly in casual shirt and jeans.  I noted my own leather shoes on his feet and realised that I was beginning to forget what it was like to wear shoes, the signs of a “normal” man.

“Listen carefully slaveboy and don’t interrupt me,” Lewis stated as I stood naked before him.  “Your boyfriend Ben was no threat to us and had no chance of ever freeing you.  So don’t think you will ever get free from your slavery.  But he has made things …. how shall I say … awkward for us.  I don’t want it getting around that two members of your ex-football team have disappeared.  Benny boy is in a form of slavery where he will never be seen in public again.  As far as normal society is concerned, he has disappeared off the face of the planet.  But I need to be more careful with you.  And that’s why I have invited your family around today.”

He paused and looked deep into my confused eyes.

“Your family will see you, and will have some contact with you.  But as far as they are concerned, you have been institutionalised.  You have lost your mind, and good-hearted me – your best buddy – is looking after you.  Do you understand?”

I didn’t really understand but I gave the only permittable response of “Yes Master”.  My stomach twisted at the thought of my family seeing what had become of me, particularly my little brother who idolised me as his role model and hero.

“I don’t need to remind you of what will happen if you try to reveal any of the truth boy.  It will result in the death of your family, and your own slow torture.  I don’t want to do that, but I will if I have to.  We can’t sacrifice our own livelihoods.  So you will go along with my stories as I tell them, and you had better do a good job of showing how mad you are.  Now, I need to get you prepared.   I want a good mix of realism and total humiliation for you.  Don’t want your little brother to still look up to you, so I am going to dress you in something a little more becoming of a slave patient.”

He reached behind him and threw an object at me.  “Put this on slave,” he snarled.  I unravelled the object in front of me and saw with horror that it was a diaper.  “I cant wear this in front of my family,” I cried in horror.  “Please Sir, please have some mercy ….”

“Get it on NOW,” he shouted.  With a sob, I pulled the obscene plastic nappy over my feet and up over my shaved legs.  Just before it reached my genitals, he held his hand out and came towards me.  Silently, he attached some crocodile clips to the skin of my scrotum next to my balls and I noted the wires attached to a small battery.  With a grin, he placed the small battery inside my diaper and pulled it up over my groin.  With a mocking laugh, he turned me around and chuckled.  “You look obscene slave” he sneered, before pushing his hand into the fabric at the back of the nappy.  I felt his hand inside my arse crack and realised that the nappy was slit at the back.

“Don’t think your teenage brother will want anything to do with his diaper wearing brother, eh boy?” he chuckled.  “Now, what’s next?”

He turned around and reappeared with some clips, vicious looking metal devices with serrated edges.  I winced as he applied them to my nipples, screwing them in some way that made them grip my nipples painfully.  I sobbed in pain and begged him to take them off, but he told me that they would focus my mind on my slavery, and make me remember what I was even when my family were here.  My eyes rolled back in my head as he pulled a coarse shapeless vest over my upper body, twisting my nipples agonisingly under the garment.  Pain shot from my chest up through my neck to my tortured brain and I found it hard to think straight.  No doubt this was what he wanted.

Finally, he pulled a wheelchair from out of a cupboard.  I had not seen this before, and cursed his thoroughness.  He pulled open the seat and I stared in horror at the seat of the chair.  In the middle was a large dildo, pointing upwards from the seat where it had been somehow fastened.

“Sit yourself down, slave, and get yourself comfortable.  You will be sat down in the chair for a few hours.”

I looked at the dildo and felt my arse twitch in pain at the thought. My arse was already sore from the fuckings that I had received over recent days, and I couldn’t imagine that hard intruder lodged up my rear passage.   “Please Sir, I will be a good boy Sir, you don’t need to insert that Sir, please Sir.”

“I am not in the habit of repeating myself to slaves boy,” Lewis growled.  “Now sit down.”

I whimpered in scared defeat and approached the chair.  Slowly, I lowered myself down and felt the head of the dildo pierce the hole in my nappy.  To the amusement of the watching Lewis, I slowly impaled myself on the massive intruder, sweating in pain at the discomfort in my stuffed arse.  I sobbed in pain and humiliation at the thought that I would be seeing my family with a massive dildo inserted up my arse.

And so I sat there, impaled on the dildo.  Dressed in nappy and tit clamps, my stubbled head and shaved legs on clear display.  And Lewis warned me that any attempt to be “a naughty boy” would receive a severe shock.  With a press of a button which he displayed to me, I felt electricity shoot through the clamps on my balls and I screamed in pain.

I sat there, waiting.  Waiting for my family to see the shell of what I had become.  I had always been the golden boy, the role model to my brother.  And now he would see me like this.  I knew that Lewis would make me out to be an imbecile and humiliate me in the extreme.  I also knew that I would have to focus on my slavery.  I could not afford to make a mistake.  The sound of the doorbell roused me from my misery, and I felt the sweat trickle down from my armpits as I heard the familiar voices of my family interacting with my Master and captor in the hallway.  If only they knew that this was not madness, this was total slavery.  I was enslaved and trapped for the rest of my life.  And there was no hope of release.

Chapter 25 ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

My family had always been proud of my success, both as a result of my intelligence and my jock body’s athleticism.  As a result, they must have found my new status even more difficult to accept.  I sat squirming in my torture, eyes down and sweat pouring down from my stubbled head.  My face was red with shame.

They looked at me with a mixture of pity, shock and embarrassment as I sat there and drooled, an unavoidable action as Master tweaked the electricity on my balls at irregular intervals causing me to convulse in pain.  My arse impaled itself up and down the hard dildo as I shot up in pain in my wheelchair.  I twisted and writhed like a madman, perfect for the image that he wished me to display for my family.  Dressed only in diaper and t shirt in front of my family, I listened as he told them how I no longer had control of my body and was therefore permanently in a diaper. 

When possible, I glanced at their reaction.  Their shock at my changed appearance and obviously changed status.  No longer the good looking jock boy with the world at his feet.  My mother appeared tearful, concerned for my welfare, whereas my father appeared to want to leave me to my status as soon as possible.  He sat next to my brother, who stared open mouthed at the shell of his former idol.  I looked at my brother, dressed in the latest sportswear.  He was the teen idol that I had once been.  The latest gear, the coiffed hair and athletic body that I was once proud of myself.  I resolved that I would not allow him to become a slave like me.  I had to protect his freedom and let him become the man that I would never be now.  I had to sacrifice my own dignity and freedom – my own life – for his future as a true man.

I didn’t speak, I had nothing that I could say.  I grimaced in pain and fear as Master duped them into how caring he had been, and how he was my permanent carer.  How they need not worry any longer, and they could leave me in his care.  He would look after me and call them if he needed any assistance.  They thanked him sincerely and left me.  Only my mother brushed my cheek with her hand as she left, my father and brother steering well clear of the pitiable object that was once a source of pride for the family.  As they thanked him – my tormentor and captor - part of me wanted to scream that they were leaving me in the hands of a sadist, and condemning me to a life of slavery.  As the dildo churned painfully up my arse chute and my abused tits brushed painfully against the small item of clothing that he had allowed me in front of my family, I sobbed quietly.  As they left, I hoped that I would not see them again and this pathetic wish stung fresh tears of despair on my reddened cheeks.

No doubt they couldn’t wait to get out of the apartment.  No doubt the journey home was full of shame at what I had become.  No doubt they would not be rushing back again to see me in a hurry.  Master Lewis had, as ever, done an effective job in ensuring my complete degradation and I now had no allies in the world.  My family knew now to steer clear of me, and my best friend was enslaved somewhere.  I was alone in a world of total slavery.

After seeing my family out, Lewis returned and smirked at me.  He rubbed his hand across my stubbled head and chuckled, a look of mock horror on his face.  “Looks like its just me and you now slaveboy,” he grinned.  “Good job you have got such a caring Master.  Now I have a busy day and you have wasted enough of my time.  Get up off that dildo and get slave naked.”

It wasn’t long before I was leaving the apartment for my run to work, dressed as usual in my obscene boiler suit and nothing else.  Barefoot and collared, running through the city streets to my former office building.

Taking the side entrance, I ran down to the basement and removed my boiler suit to kneel naked on the concrete floor before Master Dennis, who was already seated in his corner when I arrived, smoking a cigarette.

He did not speak until he had finished his cigarette.  He motioned me over to him and told me to “present arse”.  I turned and pressed my forehead to the concrete, and presented my naked arse up in the air for his inspection, feeling the now expected intrusion of his warm cigarette butt up my arse hole.

On his instruction, I turned around and opened my mouth wide as instructed.  With unremitting cruelty, he hawked some phlegm in the back of his throat and gobbed it into my open mouth.  I gulped down the slime of his throat as he sat there smiling, before opening my mouth again and accepting a second mouthful.  Finally, with a chuckle, he stood and unzipped his trousers.  Without a word, he draped his cock over my bottom lip and I awaited the inevitable.  Slowly and deliberately, he pissed into my wide open mouth, watching the pools of piss held inside my mouth and then nodding as a signal that I was allowed to swallow his foul tasting waste.  Once again, I was a toilet and I shuddered in the knowledge that this was becoming normal.  I was beginning to accept my place as a human urinal.

After sucking his long black cock clean, I followed Master’s instructions and dressed again in my obscenely fitting boiler suit.  With nothing underneath, I zipped up the front of the suit and looked down at the outline of my genitals in the fabric.  I might have been naked for all the modesty it provided.  I was puzzled when Master Dennis threw some black work boots at me.  I pulled them on quickly, the feeling of footwear strange after spending so long barefooted.  I quickly realised that the boots were too small, and that I would not be provided with any laces.  But I knelt on the floor before Master Dennis and wondered what would happen next.

“I got some dealing to do today slaveboy.  So you can start your life as a true working slave.  Make yourself useful.  Now this office block has 24 floors and today you will spend your time cleaning the men’s toilet block on each floor.  See how high you can get, starting on the first floor.  Welcome to your new executive role as work slave.  And if I get any complaints about the standard of your work boy, you can expect some serious punishment.”

“Yes Sir,” I replied in dismay as I was handed a mop and bucket.  I had never in my life cleaned anything.  I had employed a cleaner at home, and now I faced a day as a toilet cleaner.

And so began a day of utterly demeaning work.  As I worked away in my domestic role, I contemplated the fact that I had signed up to this firm as the pick of my graduate field.  I was destined for big money and an executive lifestyle.  And now, I scrubbed the floor in the toilets on each floor.  I cleaned the toilets and wiped down the urinals.  A menial work slave, dressed in coarse minimal work clothing.  I stepped back as men in suits entered the toilets and ignored me, viewing me with a look of disgust and contempt as they went about their ablutions and I continued to work.  As ordered, I answered any comment with a polite “Yes Sir” to accentuate my status as the lowest worker in the place.

Several times Master Dennis appeared to check on my work.  Each time, I was instructed to pull down my boiler suit in the middle of the toilet floor and bend over as he inserted cigarette butts up my arse.  I remained in this position, hands on boots with my boiler suit bunched around my ankles, until Master Dennis had washed his hands and exited the toilet.  On one occasion, I only just covered my genitals before a young guy in a suit entered.  He stared at me pulling on my tight garment over my chiselled body, and I mumbled a humble “Sorry Sir” as I scuttled out of his way.

I worked relentlessly in the toilets, solidly through the day, cleaning everything to a shine in each toilet block and then carrying my domestic equipment to the next floor up the staircase.  I was not allowed to use the lifts.

As I finished the seventh floor and started to climb the staircase, I recognised the sign that it was lunchtime from the bustle of workers leaving for a break down the stairs.  Moving to the side to allow my superiors access to the main staircase, the young executives left for lunch, ignoring me as they brushed past me.  I was no longer the high powered focus of attention: my status from only last week had been destroyed.  I now stood, mop and bucket in hand, and bowed my head submissively so as not to be recognised.

No one acknowledged me.  No one treated me with any sign that I was even present in this executive world where once I was king.  I scuttled up to the eighth floor and started to work on the next washroom.  The sheer tedium of my demeaning work making me sigh in frustration and despair at my position as work slave.

My mind began to cloud as I worked away endlessly.  I realised that I had nothing to occupy my thoughts any more.  I had no life now.  No hopes or dreams, nothing to look forward to.  My thoughts were constantly occupied with avoiding punishment, with working hard to please my Masters and do as I was told.  I was beginning to think like an animal, a working machine without any choices.

Busy in my thoughts, I did not hear Master Lewis enter behind me.  I scrubbed at the toilet, and was startled out of my empty thoughts by the sound of his chuckle.  I turned to face him and grovelled before his shiny shoes and smart suit trousers.  “Found your place I see boy,” he laughed.

“Yes Master,” I mumbled.

“Well I have just had a nice business lunch and I need a shit.  Get naked slaveboy,” he growled.

Unquestioningly, I stripped naked and knelt naked at his feet.  Wordlessly, he told me to place my boiler suit and boots in the corner of the room.  I did so quickly, glancing nervously at the doorway.  I returned to the toilet cubicle and knelt again naked at his feet.  I watched as he pulled down his trousers and sat on the toilet, before he motioned me forward.  He held out his cock, and I knelt naked between his legs with his cock in my mouth.  I knelt there as he took a shit, gulping down his piss with eyes closed, recoiling at the sounds of another man shitting and the smell.  How low could I sink ?

Finally he finished, informing me that his arse needed wiping.  And so, I used toilet paper to wipe his arse clean before moving to flush the toilet clean.  He stopped me from doing so and told me that he wanted it to remain unflushed.  “You sure your Master’s arse is clean now slave?” he grinned, pushing my face upwards to meet his eyes.

“Yes Master,” I whispered, the abject humiliation of my role as his arse wiper making me dizzy with despair.

“Good.  These bathrooms don’t have a bidet.  So you better get my arse crack cleaned boy: refresh me for the afternoon.”

He turned around and presented me with his arse.  I gritted my teeth in misery and disgust before prising his cheeks apart and licking his musty arse crack clean.  Long licks along the whole of his crack as he moaned in approval.

Finally, he pulled up his trousers and patted my stubbled head as I tried to remove the gritty remnants of his shit from my mouth.

“I’m going now slaveboy.  Oh, and I am taking your sexy boiler suit with me.  You can spend the afternoon in this cubicle with the smell of my shit.  Don’t go flushing that toilet.  Get used to my fresh aroma.”

I looked up at him in dismay at the prospect of being left here in this public toilet naked.

“Oh, and don’t even think about locking the door boy.  You can keep it closed, but if anyone wants to look at your naked body or use you, that’s their prerogative as a free man.”

He laughed aloud.  “Have a good afternoon boy,” he chuckled as he picked up my suit and boots.  “I’ll be back at 5pm to pick you up.”

I heard the door slam behind him and I pushed the door to my toilet cubicle closed.  I hesitated with the lock, but I knew it was useless.  He would know and I didn’t want to be punished.  My life was hard enough without punishment.  And so I sat naked on the toilet lid and pulled up my legs.  The smell of my Master’s shit flooding the cubicle, and my chained cock resting on the cold seat.

For the first time that afternoon, I held my breath at the sound of a man entering the toilet.  What would he think if he opened the door and saw me naked inside, collared and shaved with my cock chained to my balls?  I watched his smart shoes pass my cubicle and closed my eyes in prayer that he would pass me by.  I heard him at the urinal and sighed in relief as he passed me by again and exited.

I looked up at the ceiling lights and rested my weary head backwards against the toilet.  Why me ?  Why was my life being destroyed like this ?  I contemplated a long afternoon of boredom and fear, naked in the eighth floor toilet of my former office block.

Chapter 26: The Final Chapter ( By andy28_rl@yahoo.co.uk )

Months have passed now and I am trained to a life of slavery.  I know that I can never return to my former life as successful jock boy, athlete and businessman.  My life is instead spent as a naked slave, constantly working in menial work for Master Dennis and serving Master Lewis as his body and house slave.  I have forgotten what it is like to be free, to have leisure time and friends.  I have forgotten the pleasure of free man’s food and alcohol, of sport and watching TV, of sexual release.  All of these are beyond my world as a humble slave boy.  As I kneel here naked on the floor, sucking Master Lewis’s toes as he watches TV, I have come to accept that my place in life is as a slave object to give him pleasure.  I am accustomed to his cock breeding my arse, accustomed to eating his sperm and drinking his piss.  I know my place.

And yet despite my total control and my new place as the lowest slave imaginable, I cannot rid my thoughts of my former best friend Ben, and what has become of him.  My Master informed me that he was alive and had experienced surgery, but I had seen no evidence of him and longed to see him.  If he was now a slave like myself, maybe I could gain some form of companionship in my eternal days as a naked slaveboy.

Months have passed now and I am resigned to my fate.  I am now fully trained to a life of slavery.  I know that I can never return to my former life as successful jock boy, athlete and businessman.  My destiny is now to spend my life as a naked slave.  I waste my life away in constant  naked menial work for Master Dennis, and in serving Master Lewis as his body and house slave.  Nothing that I do is vital or worthwhile: I am under no illusion.  They keep me enslaved because they enjoy degrading and humiliating me.  My life is destined to be the naked puppet of my Masters, wasting away in slavery.

I have forgotten what it is like to be free, to laugh and chat and dream of the future, to have leisure time and friends.  I have forgotten the pleasure of free man's food and alcohol, of sport and watching TV, of sexual release.  All of these are beyond my world as a humble slave boy.  As I kneel here naked on the floor, sucking Master Lewis's toes as he watches TV, I have come to accept that my place in life is as a slave object to give him pleasure.  I am accustomed to his cock breeding my arse as his bitch, accustomed to eating his sperm and drinking his piss.  I know my place.

I think of my former friends, colleagues and football team members.  They looked up to me, respected me.  Now their lives continue, no doubt enjoying their youth and the niceties of life as a young 20-something.  Whereas I have no future, no life, no humanity.  Even my family have given me up to Lewis's control.  They have seen me humbled under the plans of Lewis.

And yet despite my totally controlled life and my new place as the lowest slave imaginable, I cannot rid my thoughts of my former best friend Ben, and what has become of him.  My Master informed me that he was alive and had experienced surgery, but I have seen no evidence of him and I long to know if my best friend is coping with whatever they have subjected him to.  Ben is a great guy: he had come to look for me and tried to rescue me.  Only he knew that all was not right.  Only he believed in me.  And his reward for that faith was to be himself enslaved.  I hope and pray that he is still alive, and has accepted his fate.  I have no doubt that he has become enslaved like me.  But maybe he has received a kinder treatment.

I had hoped that Lewis would have tired of humiliating me by now.  He has taken everything from me.  My life is now his.  He has sold anything of value that once belonged to me, and I own nothing at all.  Some of my old belongings he retains, as if to taunt me of what I once had.  I have no clothing, no belongings, nothing to mark me as a human being.  Instead I am destined to live as his fuck hole, naked on the floor like this.  I pause for a second, my tongue resting on the nail of Master's big toe as he watches football.  It does not take Master long to realise I am being lazy, and I receive a kick to my side.  I continue bathing Master's foot with my spit.

The football finishes.  How I used to love "Match of the Day" at the start of this football season.  Now the names of football clubs and footballers wash over my conscious thought.  They are irrelevant to me now.  I have no interest in the television.  I am forbidden from interacting with the real world any more in any way. 

My stomach rumbles with hunger but I know better than to beg for food.  Master feeds me when he sees it as necessary.  Some days I starve when he forgets to feed me.  My food is not a priority to him.  My body is now honed to perfection, not an ounce of fat on my exposed frame, as I am constantly working.  The small amount of food that I am allowed means that my body craves food as I work and serve.  My enforced hunger reminds me I am not even allowed food when I need it.  The most basic of human rights lies in the hands of my owner.

I hear the click of the TV as Master switches it off and I hear him yawn and stretch above me on his settee.  He pulls his foot from my mouth and pushes my face to the ground, standing on my face with his wet bare foot.  He grinds the sole of his foot into my face and stretches again.

"You are fucking pathetic, cocksucker," he snarls.  "What sort of man allows himself to be enslaved like you have done.  I think you wanted this all along.  You have always been a closet homo eh boy ?  No one submits as easily as you did."

I feel my chest lurch in a sob.  He always knows exactly what to say, to remind me I am nothing now.  What I once was.  And what I now am.  "I h… h.. had no choice," I stammer.  "You …. You g.. gave me no choice Master."

I stammer now.  I used to be so confident and articulate.  Now I am barely allowed to speak at all and when I do I have learnt that my opinion counts for nothing.  I speak quietly and meekly, with a pronounced stammer impeding any dignity in my speech.  I also lisp as a result of the heavy ring that Master has pierced through the centre of my tongue.  A ring that makes normal speech impossible and means I am always silent in the presence of free people.  A ring that is sometimes used to tether me to the wall if I forget my place at any time.  A ring that is used to give him pleasure when I tongue his cock in my mouth.

He has taken my personality away from me and reduced me to a humble shell of my former self.  My mind, my confidence, my former jock body preened to catch a girl's eye.  All long gone.

In fact, I am sure that my former friends and team-mates in the football team would no longer recognise me.  The confident, self assured athlete that I once was is no more.  I now walk with my back stooped, ensuring that my head is always below that of my Master, bowing in deference.  My body is beautiful, honed to perfection.  When I am alone in my cell, I feel the contours of my abs, my perfectly formed chest and legs.  My body is not for admiration though: I will never again feel the admiration of a woman's gaze.  I am only property.  Owned property.

My body may be starved and worked to perfection, but my body is also permanently scarred by whip marks across my back, and the welts of Master's cane across my arse.  Never a day goes by without me being stretched naked over his knee for a spanking or a caning, my red arse exposed to his torture as the tears stream down my face.  He doesn't need a reason: he does it simply to humiliate me.  What have I done to deserve this treatment ?  I had so much promise, and so much respect.  Now I have no self respect at all: how can I see myself as a man when I spend hours nose to the wall in naked corner time, hands on head with my red arse displayed for the amusement of its tormentor.  My life wasting away in total control and degradation.

In addition to my punished body, my enforced hairlessness makes me appear like an overgrown boy, my genitals starkly bare in my hairless crotch.  Hairless except for the pink triangle of course.  The triangle that is trimmed on a weekly basis by Pierre and his obscene gay team.   They revel now in the fact that I am forced to visit them every Friday after work.  I hate what they have done to my body, but I have no choice at all.  No matter who is in their salon, I am under strict instructions from my Master to follow Pierre's orders to the letter.  And Pierre thinks nothing of ringing Master if I stray slightly from his word.  No doubt the queer loves his total power over a stud like me.  And I am completely powerless to resist anything.  Pierre now insists that I walk in through the door, walk up to him and kiss him full on the lips regardless of who is present.  Then I am to ask for permission to strip.  I strip my only item of clothing – my slave overall - off in front of him and whoever else is present.  They fondle my body, they play with my abused genitals, they flip me over on a work surface and fondle my arse.  They lube my arse and fuck it with dildos.  And I can do nothing.

It knocks me sick, the constant smiling, the fawning and bowing to Pierre and jumping to his every command like some weird fag, my naked body on display enforcing my total submission.  And I stand there naked, shaved, my head buzzed to a permanent skinhead, my pink triangle on display and the word OWNED tattooed down my cock.  At least my barcode and Lewis's mobile number - tattooed on my neck – is hidden beneath the leather collar that is locked permanently around my neck.  Who would ever recognise the former captain of the football team?

As I wallow in the misery of my existence, Master Lewis brings me back to reality, my face still pressed to the floor.  He takes his foot away from my head and utters the word "PISS".

Obediently, I kneel up before him and gently pull down the front of his tracksuit bottoms to reveal his expensive white CKs.  Again, my mind reminds me that once I wore CKs.  Now any single piece of underwear -  ever - would be heaven.  Gently I take out Master's cock and wrap my lips around it.  With a sigh, he unleashes his piss down my throat, and I silently gulp it down before washing his cock clean with the tip of my tongue and placing his cock away.

"Th..  th..  thank you Master for allow  allow …ing me to d..drink," I stutter, head bowed before him.  My face flush with embarrassment as I thank him for drinking his piss.  Its acrid taste hitting the back of my throat.  Even the water in my bowl is diluted with his piss.  Its unmistakeable taste forever in my mouth.

"Stand at attention slut," he grins, sitting down on the settee again.  The expensive Italian settee that was once mine, imported especially.  The settee that I am now forbidden from touching, let alone sitting on.  Like all furniture.  My place is on the floor.

I stand before him and spread my legs, my own imprisoned cock still locked in place via a chain from under my shaved balls.  I have not been allowed to cum since I was enslaved, and so my cock aches for release.  I dare not think about release, the pain from an erection still unbearable in my cruel bondage.  I clasp my hands behind my head and stare forwards into his eyes.   The standard ATTENTION position that he likes.  His eyes boring into mine, into my soul, as my owner and captor.

"You are one pathetic loser, slaveboy.  Do you know that?" Lewis stated, after a pause.

Blinking away my humiliation, I whisper.   "Yes Master".

"I need to cum slaveboy, so it's a good job your mouth is warmed up with my feet and my piss.  Go and kneel at the bottom of my bed and get ready to suck me dry."

I scurried from the room and knelt in position at the bottom of Master's bed.  Ready to once more see him empty the spunk from his balls into my mouth.  Ready to accept it, my own balls blue from their enforced bondage.  I sobbed inwardly, a bitch waiting for his Master to fuck his face.

And my reward for eating his cum ?  A night locked in chains, naked in my tiny cell, before the humiliating prospect of my ballet class tomorrow.