Securing Ankle Cuffs To A Slave

It is when the Master comes back late in the “evening” with my second and last meal of the day that he talks to me and listens to anything I wish to tell him. He usually wears either a uniform or full leather, but once or twice a month he appears in a tailored suit or even tuxedo and black tie, with black dress boots, having come back from a formal dinner or cultural outing. He allows my eyes and tongue much freer reign at these times, seeming to enjoy my admiring glances, my nuzzling, and my compliments on his appearance. He lets me curl up between his legs and rub my face against the cloth or lick the leather covering his thighs. It’s not exactly passion between us, but comfort with each other and with our respective roles.

After I eat, we talk. The conversations we have as I sit at his feet are wide-ranging — we are both well-educated men with many interests. The Master will tell me what he wishes me to know about the state of the world outside, which is generally little, as he has gone to considerable expense and effort to allow me to focus inward, on my own body, mind, and spirit.

That is why I am here. It was my idea, actually, but it was his gift to enable me to realize my obsessive fantasy of nonstop bondage, solitary confinement, and total control. It’s designed as a test of whether such a narrowly circumscribed life, free of the usual distractions of earning a living or interacting with the non-Master/slave world, can move me further along my destined path. I know that I was born to serve and obey a Master, but all too often, out in the world, I lost sight of that clear goal and became caught up in other commitments or concerns.

We’ve been friends for a long time, the Master and I, much long–er than I’ve been a slave, let alone his slave. It often goes the other way: two men come together first as Master and slave, and over time their growing intimacy and affection make the roles too awkward to continue. The Master is too experienced for that trap. He won’t even allow a boy to call him “Sir” until they’ve known each other for a couple of months, sexually and otherwise, and he’s never taken a live-in slave after less than a year’s probation.

As for me . . . I’ve experienced enough to know what I want, what I need. After several Master/slave relationships that ended sooner than I wanted, I have few illusions left, about slavery or about myself. But I do have resistances, self-doubts, and, above all, habits of self-regard that make it hard for me to go deeper. Thus this experiment in deprivation and regimentation. For the Master to move me into his house as a servant would prove nothing — been there, done that (though not with him). Call this experience boot camp for the soul.

 

A Story of a Rubber Slave’s Forced Training

A Story of a Rubber Slave’s Forced Training

I followed Alan down the steps into the dungeon. We both wore jeans and t-shirts and I began to feel nervous as I saw the various rubber suits and restraints hanging from the walls, and the cage and sling and rubber bed in the semi-darkness of the room. “This is where...

The Long Denial Part 2

The Long Denial Part 2

The whole dynamic of the relationship between you and James has drastically changed since that night. For starters James kept the chastity cage on you constantly and he started wearing the key, your key, on his necklace like a fashion accessory or a mark of dominance...

Plumbed In

Plumbed In

Al opened his blurry eyes feeling groggy and heavy, lifting a meaty, inked arm up to scratch his shortly cropped head in the dimly lit room. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath as he realized just how much his head was throbbing. He was rock hard as he always was in...

The Long Denial

The Long Denial

It has been, a frustrating week to say the least. When James suggested that he should try chastity play with you it was initially enjoyable. A few hours in it and being on edge during that entire time was a new experience and having James there to be there and provide constant company and light teasing.

CHASTITY GAME

CHASTITY GAME

There were a number of small gifts from my boyfriend, but when I opened the athletic cup, I was a little confused. It seemed like an odd gift. He had smiled, and said it was for a “chastity game” he wanted to play with me.

I Had No Idea

I Had No Idea

“I had no idea what I was getting myself into.” Yes, that may seem like a strange way to start but let me try and explain to you what I mean. I am (or perhaps was) a normal 19-year-old just graduating high school and trying to decide where to go with my life.

Event Urinal

Event Urinal

I already knew today was going to be a rough day, but FUCK i had no idea.  I got to the hotel yesterday before the big event weekend kicked off.  I like to take a little downtime before the chaos starts so that I can settle in, unpack, get my bearings, and ease myself...

A Slave Fantasy

A Slave Fantasy

My past has been wiped out and there is only the present. The future is something i never think about - it is enough that i am alive in the here and now. And that present has a purity and a simplicity that my past never had. i am a slave. i do what i am told. i accept...

Your 100 Final Orgasms [dice game]

Your 100 Final Orgasms [dice game]

This would truly be a long-term undertaking: I only did one full-on test run all the way through and it basically took 8 years to complete! And it winds down in a fairly steady way. My test run went like this: Orgasms in year 1: 46 (18 full) Orgasms in year 2: 10 (7...



Related posts