It was my fantasy come true. My Master, (we’ll call him Darren for the sake of the story), was moving back to my town and coming to live with me.
I had been ordered to clean the house from top to bottom ahead of his arrival and ensure the cupboards were well stocked with food and drink.
I had done all of this and rushed home after work on Friday evening, as he had told me that the first weekend would be dedicated to training me in ‘how it was gonna be from now on.’
I was very excited (and a little nervous) as I entered my house. He was already there, having arrived about lunchtime.
I took off my clothes at the foot of the stairs as I had been instructed and waited, facing the wall, for him to come down to me.
After a few minutes, I heard him come descend the stairs and halt behind me. Without speaking, he fitted the leather mask over my head and did it up tightly. The zips were fastened and I was suddenly in a world of darkness.
“When you come in,” he spoke at last “You will put on whatever you find at the bottom of the stairs. If there is nothing, you will be naked. Do you understand?”
“Yes Master” I replied.
He led me into the bedroom. “This is now the dungeon and my sleeping place,” He said. “Where you sleep depends on my mood.”
I was made to stand in the centre of the room while he began to tie restraints around my wrists and ankles. These were tied off to hooks above and below so that I was forced into an ‘X’ position.
Then I felt him stand close up behind me. His warm hands caressed my cold skin, gently at first. His hand moved between my legs to grasp my balls from behind and he gripped then tightly.
“This is where it begins,” he whispered. “You will never touch your cock & balls again,” he said more sharply, “Do you understand?”
“When you are out of the house, you will always be in chastity and I will have the only key. You will only be released in my presence. These are mine now.” And he flicked my balls, painfully. “They will be emptied, only when I think you deserve it. That could be daily, weekly or monthly. It depends how much you please me.”
He moved round to stand before me and grasped my nipples. I winced slightly. “These, I will have pierced. And I think it is high time you were tattooed. Not a mans tattoo like mine, but a sign of your slavery. A barcode, perhaps?”
I nodded again.
“All this hair must go.” He said, tugging at the hair under my arms and around my groin. Hair is for men. You will be smooth all over. Your head will be shaved to grade 1 each week.”
I felt him untie my wrists but he quickly re-tied them to my ankles so I was bent over. Shocked, I felt him poke a finger between my ass cheeks. “All this hair needs to go, too. Smooth ALL over.” He said, chuckling. “It gets in the way” and I felt him push something firm between my cheeks. He continued to apply pressure until it slipped inside me. It was a butt plug.
“You will wear this when around the house unless I remove it” he said. Then he stood me back up again and fitted a collar round my neck, over the hood, and a strap around my cock and balls. Working quickly, he fitted a chain which ran down my back and between my legs, connecting the two, tightly.
It had the added purpose of ensuring I could not remove the butt plug.
“You wanted to be my slave,” he said “Well this is what it means.”
It was true, I had wanted this. My stiff cock showed that, despite my humiliation at the hands of this man, I still did.
I felt a sudden sting as he brought a whip down across my bare ass cheeks.
“Now for some duties” he said.
He proceeded to outline what my tasks would be each day – and between each one, he struck me with the whip and asked me if I understood.
· To get up at 7.00am each weekday and get ready for work quietly.
· To bring him a cup of tea and a cigarette before leaving for work.
· To call him at lunchtime to seek any orders or shopping requirements for the day
· To return straight home after work (unless given permission otherwise)
· To strip off on return and wear whatever was put out for me
· To immediately seek out my Master and attend to his needs
· To cook and clean to my Master’s satisfaction before being allowed to eat
· To submit to my Master’s plans for the evening’s entertainment.
· To obey all orders without question
· To help prepare my Master for bed before I was put to bed for the night.
This last task made him laugh and he released me from my bondage and dragged me over to the bed where he said he would give me a demonstration of how to fulfil that duty.
Still hooded, I heard him unzip his jeans and felt the zip on the hood open. Immediately, he forced his solid cock into my mouth and told me to suck.
“Your last job of the day will always be to clean my cock,” he instructed. “You will worship it with your tongue and ensure it is clean. You will swallow whatever comes out of it” and as he said that, I felt his warm urine begin to flow. I began to pull away but he shouted “Drink it, bitch” and thrust deeper into my throat. I had no choice but to swallow. He kept pissing and I kept gulping, thinking I might choke or vomit at any moment. But I didn’t and eventually he finished. But my ordeal wasn’t over.
“Now show me some queer slave boy sucking” he ordered and his cock remained in my mouth. I began to work it as best I could and before long got a rhythm going.
I felt him tense and moan softly then suddenly, he exploded in my mouth, filling me with his salty cum.
“You better swallow every last drop” he said. I dared not disobey, licking his dick clean of the stuff.
“Good boy” he said. “Now for your reward.”
I was pleased at this and waited to be released. The chain was removed and my wrists and ankles freed but the butt plug remained.
He stood me up and I felt him begin to wrap me in soft bandages. First my legs then my arms then my body until only my cock and balls were left sticking out.
I must have looked quite odd but I was still hooded so couldn’t see myself.
He lay me on the bed and I felt him rub my bollocks gently. I groaned with pleasure but he stopped. I wondered why but in a few moments, I knew. He had rubbed toothpaste on them and I could feel them burning already.
I groaned again, this time in pain.
“See you later” he called and left the room. I was alone with my balls burning from toothpaste and mummified from head to toe. I couldn’t move an inch.
I waited. And I waited. Although the burning sensation eventually died away, it left my balls aching and my cock, rock-solid. The plug was still buried deep inside me and was a constant reminder of my status.
I was alone in a dark world of my own. My thoughts wandered and my imagination played tricks on me. It felt like I was being watched but I heard him moving upstairs and I knew I wasn’t. After what seemed ages, I called out “Master! Master!” But there was no reply. I desperately wanted to cum. SO desperately that I began to sob. “Please Master!” I called. But there was no-one to hear me and eventually I drifted off into a sleep of sorts.
I awoke with a warm sensation on my cock, which had softened. It was pleasant, like someone breathing on it perhaps? My balls felt like they were being tickled by something but I couldn’t tell what.
My dick instantly stiffened again. “Master?” I wasn’t sure but I guessed he must be with me and called out. He didn’t reply.
Over what seemed like the next hour my cock & balls were subjected to various sensations. Some of them were pleasant, others bordered on painful. Sometimes there was a pause of several minutes between and sometimes it went on uninterrupted. It was completely outside of my control. I could not stop it or resist – even if I wanted to. But my cock was now throbbing, so intense were the sensations.
Still he had not spoken and I began to wonder if it was him. Could I really feel anything? Could I be dreaming or imagining all of this?
“Master?” I called again but again there was no response.
I began to struggle but it was useless as I was tightly secured. I screamed out my safe word. But then I remembered – I had said there was to be no safe word from mental torture. I was utterly powerless. I felt like I would go insane from the things going on in my head at that moment. Intense pleasure mixed with intense suffering; confusion, helplessness, humiliation and desire all blended together in an intoxicating mix.
Then it stopped. Completely. Nothing happened. Minutes ticked by. My dick, still throbbing, was untouched. I hadn’t wanted it to continue – but stopping was worse.
“Please, Master,” I begged, realizing that I was almost crying. “Please finish me”.
Then I got a reply. It was a laugh, not spoken words, but it was a reply and I was overjoyed. My Master had laughed at me. Deep down, I knew he had already broken any resistance or dignity I might have had. I had become little more than a dog, craving its master’s attention.
I heard him strip off and felt him climb into bed beside me. He reached out for me but I could not respond, mummified as I was. I felt his warmth through the bandages as he held me. Felt his hand brush lightly over my cock. I couldn’t bare it any longer. “Please stop now” I said in the most manly voice I could muster.
But he laughed again. “Oh no” he said. “This is only a taste of what is to come. Or not to come,” he added laughing at his own joke and stroking my meat. “I am naked beside you” he said. I struggled and strained once more but I knew it was in vain. I could not escape.
“One more thing,” he added. “Something for you to think about before you go to sleep. You are 100% mine which means no running off to your best mate’s when he calls.” I tried to protest but his hand stroked my balls lightly. “I though about theat problem and I came up with a brilliant solution,” he went on. “I told him what I was doing with you. He knows. He understands. He is glad cos it means you wont be pestering him every two minutes. I have agreed to let you undertake jobs at his request and release you when he asks. He will help me control you. In fact, he is coming round tomorrow to see you. To see you like this.”
The words took a while to sink in.
“I told him everything and he thinks it’s what you deserve. So now you have no reason not to be here at my beck and call. Think about that, slave,” he said, “Goodnight” and with one last sharp tug of my cock, he turned over and settled down to sleep.
I awoke the next morning after a night of broken sleep and intensely sexual dreams. The first thing I realized as my mind began to focus on reality was that I had a hard-on and my balls ached from the need to be emptied. The plug was still inside me and uncomfortable when I moved.
As far as I could tell, Darren was still in the bed beside me. I felt a soft movement over my cock and groaned from the exquisite pleasure and yet suffering.
“Oh, my slave is awake is he?” he said. Before I could answer, he rolled over on top of me and undid the mouth zip on the hood I was still wearing.
I thought it was so I could speak but instantly, his semi-hard cock was in my mouth. “Suck it clean, bitch, ” he commanded. I did as I was told, savouring the smell and taste. He had been very clever really. Had I been allowed to cum by now, I would probably have not been in the mood for games first thing in the morning but so desperate was my need for relief that I would do anything at this moment.
I hoped by pleasuring him, he would reward me.
I was disappointed. A few minutes in, he withdrew his dick and redid the zip before getting up and without speaking, leaving the room. I heard him in the bathroom then I heard him upstairs.
I was left alone for some time and began to drift back to sleep, despite my discomfort, when he suddenly returned.
I was de-mummified and the hood was removed from my head. I blinked in the morning sun.
“You may remove the but plug and you have 15 mins for shit, shave, shower. Then I want you upstairs wearing this” he said, flinging the slave pouch at me. “But before I let you go, I need to put this on to make sure you don’t play with yourself.”
He produced the CB3000 chastity device which he quickly fitted and padlocked in place. My cock was now encased in a tough plastic prison and out of bounds.
“15 mins – Go!” he snapped and I dashed past him to the bathroom. He slapped my ass as I ran by.
Once alone, I was able to take care of my toiletries and freshen myself up but I couldn’t so the one thing I really wanted to do – wank!
15 mins later, I stood before him once more, wearing the slave pouch as instructed. He was sat on the sofa wearing my dressing gown and smoking. He had the Cat o’ nine tails with him.
“Very good,” he commented, looking at the clock, “Now in the kitchen and make my breakfast. I will have coffee and egg on toast. You will have bread and water.”
I nodded. “Yes Master” and set about my task.
I could hear him on his mobile phone as I worked but could not hear what was said. I wondered if his threats about Jim from last night were true but didn’t think my best mate would go along with something as cruel as that.
When I returned with a tray bearing our breakfast, he was off the phone and seemed pleased. I put the food down and he made me eat mine on the floor. After breakfast, I was made to wash the dishes as he whipped me for every fault he could find. Then I was sent down to the bathroom with orders to prepare a bath.
I did so and shortly, he joined me. He put the hood back on me and then dis-robed and climbed into the foamy waters.
“Now, slave, clean me!” he ordered. Carefully, as I could not see anything, I began to soap up his muscled body and wash him all over. If I had not been hooded, it would have been a horny experience. The fact I was hooded, made it 10 times more horny. I could feel every bulge of his muscles in my hand but could not see! Real torture beyond anything I had experienced before. My cock strained against its plastic prison.
When he was done, he ordered me to towel him down then he left me alone, temporarily, whilst he dressed.
When he returned, the hood was again removed. He had assembled various tools and it was clear I was to be shaved and trimmed as he had explained the previous night. The CB3000 was removed and my pubic and body hair was shaved along with my head whilst Immac was spread between my ass cheeks and left to do its work. Five minutes later, I was made to get into the bath – the same water he had used which was now cooler and bubbleless – and I cleaned myself off. He watched me carefully to ensure I didn’t touch my cock.
When I was done, he ordered me to stand in the bath whilst he applied baby oil all over my hairless body. The touch of his hands on my smooth skin sent my cock into overdrive and I felt I would cum from the feelings alone. But I didn’t and before we left the bathroom, he reapplied the CB3000 and hood. I was taken back into the dungeon and forced into the cage.
He locked it shut and I was left once again in the dark and unable to ease the pressure in my aching bollocks.
I again drifted off to sleep, despite being cramped and having only a single blanket to wrap myself in. My uneasy dreams were full of dark happenings and I awoke several times. At one point, I imagined Jim and Darren were stood laughing at me in my humiliation.
Then I awoke. It was not a dream. Although I couldn’t see, I could clearly hear Jim’s voice. He was here, in the room, alongside my Master.
“Get him out” I heard him say and then heard the padlock being opened.
“Out” Darren commanded. Reluctantly, I obeyed. I didn’t want to play – not in front of Jim. It was too humiliating. Too embarrassing.
I was stood before them, naked but for the chastity device on my cock and the hood over my head. I guessed this made it easier for them to look at me for they didn’t have to look into my eyes but, knowing they were seeing me like this, didn’t make the humiliation any less for me.
“What can we do with him?” Jim asked
“Anything you like” Darren replied. Then he snapped “On the bed, face up”
I was half pushed into position and quickly my wrists and ankles were secured so I was spread-eagle. The CB3000 was removed and replaced with the studded parachute. Darren explained to Jim about the tiny spikes inside then I felt pulling on it. It hurt and I winced. Jim laughed and I felt more force on it. Then I heard rattling of chains and they somehow managed to secure a constant upward pressure on it meaning my balls were continually subjected to dozens of pin-like pricks. I moaned in pain.
“What do these do?” I heard Jim ask, wondering what he was referring to. I soon found out as I felt clamps applied to each nipple, biting hard and deep. This time I yelped with the pain but that seemed to encourage them.
“Try this” I heard Darren say. I braced myself for whatever was to come.
Suddenly I felt a searing sensation on my chest, making its way down towards my navel. I cried out in the mask, guessing Darren was introducing Jim to the delights of hot candle wax on my body.
“Try it on his balls” Darren suggested.
I yelled “No!” but it was too late. The hot wax covered my balls and I screamed.
My mind was clouded with the pain but my cock, also now being coated in hot wax was harder than steel. Here I was, a worthless piece of meat, providing entertainment for two men. And why shouldn’t I? That was all I was fit for. They were men, it was their right to use me in whatever way they desired.
The pain was now intense in my balls, my nipples and from my cock.
“Want to make him really suffer? Watch this” Darren said.
I was ready to scream. I was ready to shout out my safe word, though I didn’t think it would do any good. The nipple clamps were removed and the relief was overwhelming. The studded parachute was removed. It felt amazing to have my balls free. Something cold soothed the burning sensations of the hot wax.
Why had he stopped hurting me – or was he just building up for the big one?
I tensed up and prepared for massive pain. And felt nothing, Nothing except his hand on my balls. And then on my cock. His hand, covered in baby oil. Working me. Slowly. Gently. I writhed on the bed. Fuck this was beautiful. He teased my balls, gently squeezing them in his hand. He knew I liked that.
“Ohhhh Fuckkkkk! I exclaimed, my mind on another level with so much pleasure after so much pain.
“You like that?” he asked, softly.
“Yes Master” I replied, squirming and pushing myself up off the bed toward him.
“Pleeeeaaaaasssssseeeeeee” I begged, wanting him to go harder, faster. Wanting him to let me cum. But he continued at the same slow, steady pace.
“What are you?” he asked.
I paused for a moment then replied. “I am yours, Master. Whatever you want me to be. I am your slave, your toy, your piece of meat. I will do anything for you Master, please…”
He laughed and stopped all contact with me.
“No…Master!” I begged, “PLEASE!”
“See how easy it is to control a fag” he said to Jim, who also laughed.
“Do you want our cocks?” Darren asked me and I replied instantly
I didn’t even realize I had said it until Darren pointed it out. “It seems you are now also his Master, Jim”
Jim laughed again “fuckin’ queer!” he exclaimed.
I heard Darren unzip his jeans and then heard Jim do the same on the other side of me.
“Our cocks are out” Darren said, “Here they are” and I felt something brush passed my hand on Darren’s side. Of course, my hands were tied to the bed and I couldn’t move them but it didn’t stop me straining against the bonds.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Jim, that’s massive” Darren said, laughing.
I had no way of knowing whether they really did have their dicks out or not as I was still hooded but my imagination had taken over.
“PLEASE!” I begged again.”PLEASE MASTERS! PLEASE HAVE MERCY”
”What do you want?” Darren asked. “Tell Jim and me what you want”
With no thought of my dignity, I pleaded to be allowed to suck them both off. For them to fill me with their spunk. To be fucked. To be spit-roasted. To be ridden like a bitch. To be made to satisfy their every fetish and desire.”
I was now so desperate to cum and to be used by these two men, I really would have done anything they demanded of me.
Instead, they left me to one side and both climbed onto the bed next to me. I heard various muttering and laughing and I felt a faint thud thud thud. I strained to hear, from inside my hood, what was going on.
I heard gasps and moans of pleasure and whispers of “Yeah, that’s good”
Like a bolt of lightning it hit me! They were wanking each other off! Of all the tortures I had endured today, this was surely the worst. Not just two young, fit, straight guys wanking each other off but THE two fittest guys in my life, doing it here, right next to me. And I was too well restrained to move a muscle, let alone join in and too well blindfolded to see a thing. But I could feel the bed shaking with their movements and hear their gasps of pleasure and delight. And I cried! I cried in frustration and desperation. I cried real tears and lots of them. I sobbed and yelled and struggled but they ignored me, too far gone in their own pleasure no doubt. Pleasure that should have been mine. Despite my agony, I calmed myself as I could hear from their sounds that one or both of them was getting close to cumming.
And I SO wanted to join them.
Then I heard a shout and felt warm liquid splatter across my cock and balls. I yelled out in disbelief. “PLEASE” I shouted, “PLEASE – LET ME HAVE IT!”
The first wave was quickly followed by more until my cock and balls were dripping with thick creamy straight-boy spunk. I writhed and shivered in unbelievable ecstasy but at the same time sobbed and cried in frustration.
I felt some of it being scooped up from across my balls and then the zip was opened on the mouth slit. Fingers were pushed into my mouth and greedily I sucked – on yoghurt!
I heard the two of them laughing loudly at me, no doubt finding humor in the way I had completely humiliated myself before them. Thinking it was all real, imagining them with their cocks out and wanking, I had promised them anything and everything in return for a share in their fun. I had debased myself and it had all been a big joke.
I felt utterly defeated. Worthless. Useless. Inferior. My dick now lay limp and lifeless though my balls were still swollen and aching. I didn’t deserve to cum. I had been used and abused by two straight guys and I felt broken and sub-human.
I began to cry again as they left the room, still laughing at me.
I must have cried myself to sleep because when I awoke, I was being manhandled. The restraints round my ankles and wrists were removed and I was told to stand by Darren. The hood was not removed but the eye slit was opened and I was half dragged to the toilet where I was told to do whatever I needed.
I could not see or hear Jim. I had no idea of the time or how long I had been asleep though it seemed to still be daylight.
It was difficult to use the toilet whilst being watched but I managed somehow, taking every opportunity to stretch and flex my stiff limbs and muscles.
I was then led upstairs into the lounge. Jim was there, sipping from a can of beer.
He stood up and came towards me, zipping the eyeslit shut before taking me completely by surprise by grabbing my balls sharply and squeezing them. I winced.
My cock instantly leapt to attention. I was shocked. This was the first time, to the best of my knowledge, that Jim had ever touched me in that way. He seemed to enjoy the reaction and flicked my knob, causing me to wince again and wobble slightly. I had no time to enjoy this latest development before Darren said “Cuff him, then” Almost at once, Jim yanked my arms behind my back and I felt solid steel handcuffs around my wrists. My feet were bound together, also by Jim, I guessed.
Then, what I guessed was a duvet, was wrapped around me tightly and secured with rope. This in turn was lifted – complete with me inside – into some kind of large bag or sack. I felt the top of the sack being tied and I was then hoisted into the air with some effort.
All sounds were muffled inside this new prison and I was still wearing the hood so it was extremely dark. It quickly became very warm too.
I dangled for a few moments as I heard Jim talking to Darren, he seemed to be explaining something.
Then I felt a blow to my side, cushioned by the padding surrounding me. Then another. And another. Some laughing, some talking; then another blow followed by a series on various parts of my body. I was being used as a human punch bag.
Although I was protected, some of the blows were quite hard and I felt them, even through the duvet.
I was getting hotter and sweating. Breathing was difficult and several blows had partially winded me. I didn’t know when or where the next one was going to land so I couldn’t prepare for it.
This went on for ages and despite my protests, they continued, turning the music up to drown out my cries.
Eventually, I felt myself lowered and I dropped to the floor. I was released from the duvet. They examined me for bruises, laughing at the marks on my battered body.
I was then released from the cuffs and fitted with a collar and lead around my neck. I was given the leather chastity belt to wear but Darren made an adjustment so that a long piece of string was tied around my balls first. I was then locked into the belt but he gave a sharp tug on the string, telling me that was their signal if they wanted me for anything.
I was made to crawl to the kitchen, led on the lead by Darren, and told to make them both dinner whilst they were in the study, surfing the net.
I set about the task, grateful for some time on my own where I could move my arms and legs and was not being beaten or abused.
However, my cooking was interrupted by frequent tugs on the rope as they demanded more beer, biscuits, updates on the food and various other questions I suspected they devised simply to inflict pain on my poor aching balls.
Eventually, I finished my task and brought them two large plates of tuna & pasta bake with garlic bread. They made me sit at their feet and Darren hand-fed me scraps from his plate. Jim put his on the floor when he had finished and ordered me to lick it clean.
I was quite hungry so was glad to eat, though licking from a plate on the floor like a dog was a humiliating experience. Darren gave me a couple of slices of dried bread and a glass of water and told me I had been a good boy.
I began to hope that my ordeal was almost over. After dinner, I was made to wash all the dishes and clean the kitchen – which I was left mostly in peace to do.
Then I was hauled back into the lounge, again crawling on my hands and knees, and told I was to be a footstool and coffee table for them whilst they chilled out.
Hardly daring to move, they rested their feet, and an ashtray, on my back and chatted together. It seemed they were planning to go out to the pub and were debating which one.
Eventually, they decided and I was taken back downstairs and padlocked into the cage – the end of my ordeal, I hoped. I heard them moving about up and down stairs, getting ready but they didn’t bother with me anymore.
Locked in the cage, with my cock and balls inside a leather prison and a hood over my
head, I was far from comfortable. The pressure in my balls was immense and I couldn’t help but think about all that had happened to me over the last 24 hours which gave me an instant erection.
However, they hadn’t finished with me yet! I was dragged out of the cage. My hands and feet were tightly bound and I was placed into a sack or bag – without the duvet.
I was breathing heavily, not knowing what to expect. They carried me out of the house and put me in the boot of Jim’s car. Then the boot slammed shut.
Moments later, I heard the car doors slam and the engine start. A sudden jolt and we were moving.
Jim must have decided to take the bumpiest roads he could find and drive as erratically as possible because I bumped and banged around in the boot until I began to feel quite sick. My plea’s for mercy were drowned out by his stereo system.
Clearly, they did intend to go the pub because eventually the car stopped and I heard the doors slam again. The boot was briefly opened and a finger prodded me. When I responded, Jim laughed and said “He’s still alive”. Then the boot slammed shut and I was left alone.
I was cold and scared. I couldn’t sleep but I couldn’t move, either. I waited for what seemed like an eternity before they returned to the car.
They checked on me once more before setting off. The journey back was even worse than the journey there. Maybe Jim had been drinking or maybe I was just more bruised and sensitive but I seemed to feel every lump and bump in the road.
When I was eventually lifted from the boot and returned to the house, I was very relieved. I was removed from the sack and thrown into the bed, still bound. The light was switched off and I was left alone.
Despite my bonds, I drifted off to sleep very quickly, being both emotionally and physically exhausted.
Once again, I was awoken from my sleep by movement. Once again, I had lost all track of time.
It felt like my bonds were being removed. I stretched my tired muscles as soon as I was freed. Then, the hood was removed, too. It was dark in the room but for a single candle burning.
I was aware that it was Darren who had removed my bonds. He was lay on one side of me. To my astonishment, Jim was lay the other. Both were topless. I couldn’t see what else they wore as, like me, they were beneath the duvet.
I lay still, hardly daring to breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
My heart sank as I was once again tied, spread-eagled to the bed. I wondered what torture awaited this time and I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes – when would it end?
Softly, I heard Darren whisper “Poor slaveboy. He has suffered so much today. His puny body is battered and bruised.” And he began to gently caress my outstretched arm. I tensed myself, waiting for the pain – but there was none. He continued gently massaging my arm and I felt Jim do the same on my thigh.
Yet again, my cock stiffened, still in its confinement. So this was their torture. To tease me as they had done earlier. I tried not to respond but their firm manly hands working my sore and aching muscles felt divine. Darren’s hand moved to my chest and began to gently squeeze my nipple. I waited for him to pinch but he didn’t.
Jim’s hand moved to the top of my thigh and he stroked around the leather belt.
I groaned in pleasure – despite my attempts to hold it in – and threw my head back.
“PLEASE” I begged again despite knowing they had ignored all of my begging and pleading throughout the day “Please don’t tease me, Masters. Just do what you are going to do and get it over” My voice sounded weak and pathetic.
Jim replied, “We’re not teasing. You have done really well and you deserve this reward.” And I felt him fumble with the padlock on the belt for a moment and then it clicked open. He removed the belt and my stiff cock sprang up, my two heavy balls hanging large in their sac.
Darren continued to tweak my nipples as Jim’s hand grew ever closer to my balls. As he touched them, I arched my body in ecstasy. Darren had chosen that same moment to bite my neck – not to inflict pain but maximum pleasure. I felt my cock shoot out great strings of hot gushing semen. I didn’t want to cum so soon but my body was under their control. I yelled out “Oh Fuck! Oh God!” as I pumped out more and more of the sticky white substance, drenching myself in it. My body spasmed as waves of intense pleasure shot through me.
I think they were impressed at themselves and the effect they had on me. I was disappointed. I felt robbed of what could have been a much longer and more pleasurable experience.
I lay on the bed, shuddering for a moment until Darren grabbed a towel and cleaned me up. I was still tied and couldn’t move.
“Do queers always cum that easy?” Jim asked. I shook my head. “No Master” It seemed odd to call him Master but after what I had been through, I knew I would never be able to think of either of them as equals again. They had broken me and made me theirs.
I lay, looking at Darren, waiting for further instructions. To my great surprise (and pleasure), they picked up where they had left off. Darren began running his hand over my chest while Jim fondled my balls, no longer swollen or aching.
My cock lay to one side, at rest, but I felt it begin to stir again. I lay back, savoring the moment. All the pain and all the suffering had been worth it for this. The two most important guys in my world, the two who now owned me, were pleasuring me.
Darren began stroking my neck whilst Jim’s hand ran lightly over my now hard cock.
I was determined to hold out much longer this time and make the most of this amazing experience.
Darren was tweaking my nipples again and whispering in my ear. Jim was stroking my cock, agonisingly slowly. I strained against my bonds – I SO wanted them both.
As if he had read my thoughts, Darren whispered “Do you want us to take you?” His breath in my ear drove me wild.
“Yes Master” I whispered back.
“Whatever the cost?” he whispered again.
“Yes Master, please”
They stopped for a moment, exchanged some whispered words, then I felt them swap places. Jim was now concentrating on my neck whilst Darren played more firmly with my dick.
“Would you like to taste the Jim cock?” he whispered softly.
I nearly choked there and then. “YES” I said in a definite tone. “YES MASTER”
”While Master Darren fucks you?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing
“YES PLEASE MASTERS”
“Whatever the cost?”
“YES PLEASE MASTERS” I repeated. I had got the idea in my mind and I wanted it more than anything else. I should have picked up on the ‘whatever the cost’ line which both had used on me – but I didn’t.
They re-tied me on the bed in an ‘on all fours’ position
Jim shuffled round in front of me and unbuttoned the fly of his boxers. He pulled out his dick which was semi-erect and already appeared large. He pushed it to my lips which I willingly opened for him.
It slid in and down my throat. I began to suck. It tasted even sweeter than I had imagined. Quickly, it stiffened and became fully hard. It was almost more than I could take. But I was determined to give him the blow-job of his life, even if it choked me in the process. I began to build up a rhythm and he sighed, as if in pleasure.
Suddenly, I felt Darren’s cock sliding between my spread legs. It hurt as he entered and I tried not to let the pain distract me from sucking Jim’s now huge cock.
I was finding it hard to breath with Jim’s cock in my mouth and Darren’s up my ass but I concentrated on getting synchronized so that as Darren pushed in, which pushed me forward slightly, I went down on Jim.
Ever since I had known them, I had fantasied about this and now here I was, getting spit-roasted, by my two former best mates – now my owners.
This was my sole purpose in life, this was why I was here; to serve these two young studs.
The pace quickened now as Darren’s relentless pounding became faster and harder. This caused me to push deeper down on Jim’s solid meat. I cradled his big hairy balls in my hand and he seemed to like that. Moments later, I felt him tense. Then he exploded. Hot spunk fired down my throat like a bullet from a gun and he gave a yell “Swallow it bitch!” I didn’t need telling. Greedily, I milked every last drop. Moments later, I felt Darren shoot his load inside me.
I didn’t care about humiliation anymore. Only men could be humiliated. I had gone past that. Why should a slave feel humiliation – it was part of my role to be used as their fuck toy, to take their spunk.
Darren slapped my ass cheeks hard as he continued to shoot inside me and Jim slapped my face as I licked the end of his knob clean.
They both withdrew and smiled at each other.
Again I was released and given a towel to clean myself up. My cock was still hard from what had just happened but I could see that having both cum, they were now interested in just one thing; sleep.
They tied me back in my spread-eagle position on the bed and settled down, one either side of me. I didn’t mind too much. What had just happened had changed everything. I felt sure it was to be the first of many such sessions and I would have the chance to cum again. How wrong I was to be….!
I slept long and deep that night and awoke the next morning to find myself being untied by Darren. I was ordered to make breakfast and perform various household chores – wearing the leather chastity belt, hood, collar and lead.
Dutifully, I carried out my chores, all the while, reflecting on what had happened last night. Once I had finished, I was given a cold shower and cleaned up by Darren who then informed me that he and Jim were going out. I was made to drink a glass of whisky and swallow four tablets and tied back in my spreadeagled position on the bed. They removed the chastity belt but tied my balls up so tight it made me gasp but I was already feeling a little light-headed as they threw a duvet over me.
I heard them drive off in Jim’s car and thought they had been a little quiet. As sleep overtook me, I wondered where they were going and what else they had in store for me.
My dreams were filled with strange sexual images, no doubt inspired by the previous night’s antics. I dreamt I was being pushed about and slowly realized that I wasn’t dreaming it but in fact I was being manhandled. As I fought to come to from my sleep, I realized that the hood was being removed..
Bright lights were shining down on me. My head was spinning.
I blinked and saw both Jim and Darren in the room. Both were wearing surgical gloves and various medical equipment was in evidence.
“Slaveboy,” Darren said in a somber tone, “You are accused of trying to make us gay by enticing us to get involved in sex acts with a male. We have decided that the only course of action to cure this is if you are NOT a male anymore.”
I guessed this was one of Darren’s mock castration specialties which he used from time to time to scare me. I felt sick from the whisky and tablets and I had a pain in my groin.
“I don’t feel well” I said. “I’m sorry but can we stop now?”
”I don’t think you understand the seriousness here,” Darren said. “You are going to be castrated”
“Yeah, I know the routine,” I replied, not in the mood for playing, “But I really don’t feel well. Its those tablets you gave me with that whisky. Can you let me sleep it off and we can play later?”
”We are not playing,” said Jim, pulling back the duvet, “This is for real”
I looked down and almost passed out from shock. My balls were swollen and black. They had been tied so tightly, that the circulation had been cut off. Even if they were playing, they had probably done irreversible damage. But I suddenly knew they were deadly serious. I freaked out and began to scream, still staring at my half-dead testicles.
Darren came over and stuffed a sock in my mouth, taping it over with duct tape.
I struggled and yelled muffled shrieks through the gag.
He put a hand on my forehead and spoke softly. “Didn’t you enjoy last night? Don’t you want to do it again?”
I stared at him, wild eyed, and he gazed back.
“We want to do it again. All the time, in fact. But we cant with a man – it would make us gay. But if you lose these,” and he put his other hand on my balls. They were cold and had no feeling. I knew they were almost ruined. “If you lose these, you can be our sex slave forever. You wont be a man so it wont be gay. And anyway – you agreed to it last night. We said ‘whatever the cost’ and you agreed”
I was shaking. Tears filled my eyes. But I knew it didn’t matter what I wanted. They were going to do it anyway. My two tormentors were going to become my two castrators. They were going to nut me, here in my own bed, in my own home, and I was powerless to stop it.
“We have entonox so it wont hurt,” said Jim, pointing to a cylinder by the bed. “And I have got a load of pain killers, antiseptic stuff a proper scalpel and some superglue so no need for stitches. A simple cut and it will all be over.”
They had it all worked out. A simple cut and it would all be over. My life as a male would be over. I would become a sexless eunuch. Their sexless eunuch; to be used for fucking and sucking whenever it pleased them.
It was my sweetest dream and my worst nightmare in one. I felt sick to the stomach. My head hurt, I felt feint, the pain in my groin had worsened and to add to it all, I had a raging hard on. Darren spotted it. “Look,” he said to Jim, “His dick has decided for him. Cut him.” And with those words, my fate was sealed.
I begged and pleaded with them through my gag but they took no notice.
Jim began to paint the antiseptic solution over my balls and my cock was duct taped to my belly to keep it out of the way.
Darren put the mask that would deliver the pain-relieving gas over my nose and mouth and switched on the flow.
They prepared everything and ran through a checklist before Jim picked up the scalpel. I was glad, in a way, that if anyone was going to nut me it should be my one-time best mate and now one of my two Masters.
Resigned to my fate, I watched – horrified and fascinated – as he located the area he would cut. And then, almost surgeon-like, he began to work with the scalpel.
As the blade cut into the tiny neck of flesh between my cock and balls, I came one long, last time.
It was the last time I would ever shoot my load and was probably the best one of my life. As my scrotum was separated from my body before my eyes, and my cock pumped out jism for the last time, I knew that this was what I wanted.
A life of slavery stretched before my eyes – of being bound and helpless at their mercy. Of being forced to perform for their pleasure and always denied that ultimate pleasure for myself. The only cum I would ever know again would be theirs. Being made to suck their mighty cocks or have them rape me when they desired. And all the time, being reminded of my status by the space between my legs where my balls had once hung.
I felt little pain thanks to the drugs and gasses. Jim’s cut was a clean one and there was scarcely any blood as they had tied them so tightly. He made a neat job of gluing my severed scrotum back together and he applied dressings in a very professional manner.
When he had finished, he stepped back to admire his handiwork and to smile for the camera.
To my astonishment, I realised that they had filmed the whole thing. “We didn’t tell you as we didn’t want you to pose or act up. We wanted it all to be natural.” Jim explained.
“We are gonna put a trailer on the internet but sell copies of the actual video.” Darren added. “You will be famous”
“And anyway, its not something we can do again so we figured we needed a souvenir” Jim added, laughing.
I actually smiled back. Already, I was beginning to fall asleep again, the drugs and my emotions taking effect.
“You are gonna be out of action for about a week but when you are recovered, we will have a nice new plaything,” Darren joked. He bent over and kissed me on the forehead. “You have been a good slave today. Now get some rest and get better soon.”
I nodded weakly and watched them both leave the room before finally sinking into a deep sleep – my first as a eunuch.
I’ve decided to answer several questions I’ve received through my inbox at one time.
I’m doing this for a couple of reasons:
- When I started this journey a little over 2 years ago, I thought I knew everything I needed to know. I quickly learned that was not the case. I became thirsty for knowledge, and I wish there was a resource which could have guided me though what to expect. One of the goals I have with this blog is to hopefully provide some answers to others who may be seeking the same knowledge I am.
- I receive many of the same questions, and I’ve noticed that it’s pretty handy to be able to point someone to a specific post to answer them. (OK, so I’m lazy)
- At some level, making my experiences public provides documentation. In my current life, I’m a web designer, so I’ve learned to think a lot like a lawyer, and having things in the public record sometimes just seems prudent.
I’m starting with what I’m calling “Levels of Commitment”. Essentially, it lays out how I’ve come to understand things. I’m sure there are those who will disagree with me, and I invite the conversation, it will help everyone.
As I mentioned, I started this journey a couple years ago, but in reality, I’ve been on a series of them my whole life. I can remember way back to my first “hard on”, when I was convinced I broke my dick. I didn’t have a father figure to talk to, and I wasn’t going to ask mom, so I just ended up figuring things out on my own. Rather quickly, I found that I really enjoyed typing myself up. At the same time, I somehow developed a “hatred” of my balls. They just kept getting in the way, Interesting to note that my entire teenage life, I never once masturbated. That didn’t happen until the spring semester of my second year in college. I grew up in a REALLY small town, and there were no gay people, so it never even crossed my mind that attraction to a guy was possible. I think that’s why I never really thought to explore the sexual parts of me, and concentrated on the bondage.
Going back in time a bit, to my first semester in college, I somehow got really bold, and asked one of my roommates to tie me up. It was the first time I’d even had someone else do it. Unfortunately, the method we used wasn’t the best. My arms were duct taped to the rafters of our garage, and I was left to “dangle” there, with my arms bearing my entire weight while my roommate went to class. I had to choice but to hang there until he returned. It was incredibly painful, and for about a year, the thought of bondage in any form no longer crossed my mind.
A trip to the local farm supply store, however, opened my eyes to the world of animal castration, and I secretly bought the supplies and kept them hidden in my room, with the idea that at some point, I would do it to myself. In the end, I never ended up using any of it, and I honestly don’t know what happened to it.
Through the years, I did little “experiments”, and often enlisted the help of some very understanding friends who helped me try everything from chastity belts to mummification. At one time, I had a buddy who stayed with me, and locked a collar around my neck, attached to a chain which was attached to the wall. He locked me that way every night, and it felt so natural.
There was one “fantasy” I never was able to try, and that was that I wanted to try being locked inside a cage for an entire week. I assumed that the experience would be so horrible that it would “cure” me of my constant thoughts of bondage. It wasn’t until I met Aaron that I got to try it. I met Aaron on his 18th birthday, when I was around 39 years old.
Even with the age difference, we hit it off right away. We met in June, and by the end of July, we had convinced each other to try the “cage thing”. He was excited to have control, and I was excited to give it up. It was the first time I had to commit to an extended session. Up to that point, I’d never been tied up more than a couple of hours. When the time came, Aaron had me crawl into a dog kennel we’d purchased at the pet store, and after locking a couple of padlocks, I was locked inside the cage, and there was nothing I could do about it. We happened to have a spot in the basement where there was nothing but sand, so I was able to relieve myself by simply pissing out the side of the cage.
When it came time to handle the other end, Aaron would lead me by a collar to the toilet to relieve myself, and while he would sometimes return me to the cage right away, he’d usually tie me up in other ways, and he explored his own fantasies, he especially liked the Cat O Nine Tails. he never used it hard, but definitely used it. I thought I’d hate it, along with the hot wax he’d poor over me as he had me shackled to the wall, but, I learned to deal with the pain well. I know that that level of pain (hot wax) is probably considered child’s pain to some, for me it was just at the threshold I could tolerate. When he was done, he’d put me back in the cage until the next time he was ready to “use me” again.
The entire goal of going through the experience was supposed to make me hate the idea of bondage, but in the end, when he came to release me for the final time, and notified me that I’d been locked up not for a week, but for two weeks that I realized that all the thoughts I’d had my whole life were because I was doing what I was supposed to, and it was such a normal thing that I somehow never noticed that he’d kept me twice as long as we’d agreed.
Through the rest of the summer, he kept a chain locked around my neck, and when we’d go out, he took great joy in leading me around on a leash and collar and showing me off to his friends, and I felt honored to be his property.Something which had originally scared me suddenly seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
We spent the summer nights, quite often all night long, sharing our hopes, dreams, and innermost secrets with each other. And I told him things I’d never shared with anyone else, including the stories of my castration fantasy.
On day he told me that when my birthday arrived (it was my 40th, so sort of a milestone) he was going to indulge the fantasy I’d had since I was 19. My 40th birthday present was that I’d lose my balls. We ordered the supplies online, and waited for the day to arrive. The day my birthday arrived, Aaron never showed. He had chickened out, and couldn’t go through with it. I started the day so excited (yet terrified) and ended it disappointed.
Somehow that was the end of our master sub play, and we just became regular friends after that. When I first me him, I wanted more than anything to have sex with him, but the bondage play was the closest we’ve ever gotten. Just because the play time had ended didn’t mean our friendship did, and for the last couple of years, we’ve been best of friends.
I never got that summer out of my head however, and the taste of giving up complete control stuck with me. I knew I wanted more, but I’ve always been a “realistic” person, and knew that fr me to get what I was looking for, I had no choice but to eventually spend the rest of my life in bondage. Since my longest experience has been just two weeks, I tried to come up with the right amount of time for me to “try” long term commitment, and to this day, i still can’t decide how much time exists between forever and 2 weeks to take the next step, but in the process, I came up with one of my coolest ideas, the dice game. I won’t go into all the details, but essentially, a simple roll of the dice determines how long I’d be locked up. My “master” would lock me up, and then roll the dice. The results of the roll would determine if I’d be locked up for as short a time as three weeks, or if I would spend the rest of my life in chains. It adds a unique twist.
I knew I had to try the next step, and spent about a year searching Recon for someone to play the game with me. At the same time, I scoured forums like the Eunuch Archive, and FetLife.com. I spent countless hours on the Nifty Archive reading erotic stories. I have met people who have never been masters, but wanted to tackle the challenges of the dice game (remember, no one knows until after we’ve both committed to let the dice decide how long it will last). I knew if I wasn’t ready for a lifetime commitment, that someone who had never even tied someone up before certainly wasn’t ready for that potential commitment.
I talked with people I’d met along the way who were actually living master slave lifestyles. I talked to possibly hundreds of potential partners, and learned pretty much every single way I could be taken advantage of. I learned how things can go wrong, and how things can go right.In the end, I learned that life doesn’t always end up as you planned, so prepare for it, and that the most important thing in actually making a master slave arrangement work are respect and chemistry. Both parties must be willing to meet the other’s needs, and both must know that the other party will respect their limits. They will grow and explore together, and push boundaries, In the end, everyone wins.
The ironic bit of a successful dom / sub relationship is in realizing that a slave (or sub) ultimately knows that what they really need to do in life is to take care of someone else, while the master (or dom) needs to be taken care of. It seems backwards on the surface, but makes a lot of sense to those who truly understand.
Ultimately, a consensus came from those actually living the lifestyle I dreamed of, and they all agreed. In order to truly know if this full time, 24/7 master slave thing is right, you must actually live it for a year. At that point, the answer will be clear.
So, I know one thing only. My next step is a one year “trial” period. In some ways, it’s difficult to do a trial that lasts that long. I’m lucky enough to have a small recurring income that’ll last for many years into the future without my input, but that income isn’t large enough to keep my current life in “stasis” for a year just in case it doesn’t work out. It doesn’t really make sense to pay rent for an apartment I would never see, as in order for me to truly know, I must commit fully. From minute one until the end of that year, I will exist only for my master.
Whichever master takes me as his property must be willing to make the same commitment. When we make the final decision to officially start (which I picture as the moment master locks a collar around my neck) we must both commit to the full term. Unless it becomes overly obvious that it’s not working for both of us, we must honor the commitment we made for the sake of the other party. So, it’s entirely possible that an hour in, I realize I’m completely miserable, As long as the situation is working for master, I have no choice but to find a way to make the best of the full year.
There are many who will say that if I’m miserable, or master is, that we should end things right then. While that makes sense on the surface, there’s two major factors in play. First, every person I’ve talked to who actually is living this lifestyle tells me it requires a year to be able to make an informed decision. I’ve learned to trust that type of wisdom, especially when repeated by several sources. I might suddenly find, 11 months in that I find joy in what used to be misery. That point might be the beginning of what becomes the most satisfying experience of my life. If I quit early, i could potentially be giving up the very thing that would make me happiest.
Almost equally as important, I must honor my commitment to my master because of his commitment to me. In order for me to spend an entire year as the property of someone else, and do it in such a way which I feel is genuine, I must make several trade offs. I’ll have to terminate my lease, quit my job, put my stuff in storage, place friendships and family relationships on hold, and spend that year serving master. As a part of the decision process to make those trade offs, I must know that master has made a similar commitment to me. There is no way I could justify doing all of that for anything less than a year’s commitment.
Most difficult for me will be leaving Aaron. We discussed the possibility of attempting to recreate the magic of that summer and simply try again for a longer time. He says he thinks he can do it, but I keep thinking back to my 40th birthday, when he couldn’t go through with the castration. While a part of me is happy it didn’t happen, a part of me is still disappointed. He says he couldn’t do it because he didn’t want to hurt me. There’s no way I can be upset with him for that, but it tells me he’s not ready to make they type of commitment needed to go the whole year if things aren’t perfect for him. Plus, he’s still young (just turned 21) and I can’t ask him to spend that time exploring my needs at a time when he should be exploring his own and figuring out who he will ultimately be.
Master does have one advantage in this arrangement. He maintains to option of passing me to another if he is unhappy. I must trust that master will choose an appropriate replacement, but by allowing master to lock that collar around my neck, I will be willing giving up the right to make choices. It will not be my decision what happens to me during that time, and so I must consider as a part of my decision to become the property of this particular master, that he would ensure that no harm would come to me.
I called this post “levels of commitment” because I’ve realized that all of these things doing magically happen overnight. There’s an idea many people have that everything is going to work out as we plan. The fantasy bits make us think it’s always going to be perfect. Life doesn’t’ work that way, but that doesn’t mean it has to be a bad thing, just something we need to be prepared for.
As we begin the process of engaging each other, and eventually (and hopefully) we meet someone who we think we share a connection with. As a sub, it’s the one I feel a desire and need to serve. The one who I feel I want to fulfill all of their needs. The one I feel will respect my limits, yet help me push those boundaries.
I mention that I desire a lifelong commitment, To get there requires a series of smaller commitments. I learned this through reading erotic stories, and there are three which have really stood out to me, and illustrate how a series of smaller commitments can lead to a larger one.
Those three, in no particular order are:
In each, the master and slave meet online, and at some point, a small commitment is made. Most common, master sends slave a chastity belt, which slave locks on, showing commitment to master.
While this is a big commitment, it’s a pretty simple one, and each party is essentially agreeing to meet in person, with the INTENTION of it going further. If they meet, and it doesn’t’ work, the belt is removed, and each returns to their former lives.
Next, the slave agrees to allow the master to tie him up or at the very least, both enter a “pre-decision” mode. It’s where expectations are discussed, and it’s one of the most important parts of the process. Some may choose to sign contracts, while others are less formal. For me personally, I view this phase as the last opportunity I will have to express my desires, the last chance to state my limits, and the last chance to “leave” if I feel uncomfortable.
It’s important that this stage is handled with the respect it deserves. The gentleman I’m connecting with most in my search believes in a one year trial commitment before agreeing to a lifelong one, and that makes sense with all I have learned. It’s this stage which will determine a lot about how that year will unfold.
Finally, there’s what I call the point of no return. for me, it’s the moment master locks a collar around my neck. Once that collar is secured, both parties have a commitment to uphold everything discussed in the previous stage. The one year trial arrangement seems appropriate, and what is essentially being agreed to is that all limits will be respected, and all commitments will be honored for (in my example) the coming year. In my case, I would be agreeing that when the collar is locked, that I will have given up my right to make choices for the coming year. It will no longer be about my wants, only my masters. For master, it means recognizing I have placed my previous life on hold, so it will not interfere. He agrees to honor that, and ensure that I will remain a slave the entire year. Ultimately, master should ensure that emergency contingencies are in place. You never know when a tragic accident, or a job loss could affect master’s ability or desire to continue, so it never hurts to have a “back up” master who will take the slave as his own in those situations.
For me, the final stage involves the ultimate level of commitment, it’s the moment where each party decides this is truly something they want to do. The answers should be obvious for each at that point. If we decide to move past the one year trial, I would be agreeing to make a total commitment. Master would have the sole right to make decisions in how I am treated, and I (of course) would be allowing master to take those choices from me.
Each of the stories I mention above has various interpretations of these commitment levels, but they all share the common theme. The piss slave story stands out a bit in that there is no “trial period”. Once the slave is locked into his cage, with the piss hood locked on, he has agreed upon a lifetime commitment.
That is my ultimate desire. While technically the moment where master locks the collar around my neck will involve a one year commitment, it really means that master has the right to terminate the arrangement at the end of the year. Master can choose to continue from that point, but I choose (from the beginning) to not be allowed to choose. I choose to not be given the choice to end after a year.
I fully believe that if master wishes to end the arrangement because it is not working for him, that he should have no problems in finding another master willing to take me as his slave. As master’s property, I could of course be sold, given away, traded, etc. I would have chosen from day one that this possibility could unfold.
So in the end, we arrive on lifetime commitments through a series of smaller commitments.
- The commitment by master to send something like a chastity belt, and for slave to lock it on, ensuring each is committed enough to meet in person
- The commitment to try things on a temporary basis
- Finally, the ultimate commitment.
I am hopeful that things work as planned between either the gentleman I’m communicating with the most, or another who comes along soon.
I’m ready to get to know someone and be able to trust them enough to agree to do something like lock a chastity belt on myself while they hold the key. I hope that once we meet, that we continue to connect in a way in which I would feel comfortable allowing them complete control over my life.
I have desired this for over 30 years now, and it’s time to make it a reality.
Originally posted on https://statdig.com