My Master's Slave by Patrick Richards
Jason Thompson was an average eighteen year old college student. He played sports, partied with his friends and got laid every chance he could, but deep inside burned a secret lust for tight bondage and painful discipline. At night, when tightly tied in some strict, self-bondage position, he dreamed of a sexy, leather-clad Mistress whipping his ass and brutally torturing him, making him suffer for her own sadistic pleasure.
One day that all changed. Jason was working out in the gym when a weightlifter approached him and asked for help. Phillip Madison recognized some faint, but tell-tale signs of Jason’s self-bondage and quickly lured him into a world of submission, sex and unbelievable pain.
Even though he was a straight, heterosexual male, Jason hardly resisted the transformation that was taking place. For over a year he was molded and changed. Tattoos and piercings were just the beginning. Hormones and laser treatments turned Jason into a sex toy that learned to crave the pain and humiliation that his Master had to offer.
Many agonizing hours are spent in Phillip’s dungeon, but he soon learns just how much of a masochist his little toy really is. Whether it’s riding on a Spanish donkey, a stringent dose of stretching or a session with a Scottish tawse and Spencer paddle, Jason’s little cock is always hard and ready. Jason soon learns that the benefits of his submission far outweigh the pain. He is spoiled with fancy cars and worldly travel as he eagerly satisfies his Master’s extraordinary carnal needs and sadistic lust.
A little over a year after it begins, Jason goes through another life changing experience. Only time will tell what happens.
Includes: body modification, cross-dressing, anal and oral gay sex, submission, bondage, humiliation and unimaginable pleasure.
As I bounced around in the trunk of his car, I wondered what I had gotten myself into. My body was totally wracked in unbelievable pain, and I was unable to move even a fraction of an inch. I was nothing more than a worthless piece of luggage and had no idea when it would end. I knew just one thing. He was taking his slave on a vacation into purgatory.
It was hard to think of anything but the agony I was experiencing, but through a cloudy mind I thought back to how all this got started….
I’m an 18 year old college student, and a star soccer player at Purdue University, going there on a full scholarship. Even though I’m rather small, my rock hard body, gazelle-like speed and amazing agility make up for any possible short comings. Actually I’m almost 5 feet 4 inches tall and weigh in at about 125 pounds. I work out extensively, keeping myself in fantastic shape. But besides all that, I’m into bondage, well actually self-bondage. I love ropes and chains, and being locked in them with a little pain thrown in to boot.
Anyway, I was at the gym working out one day when a fellow probably in his very early thirties asked me if I would spot him while he lifted some weights on the bench. It seems his buddy hadn’t shown up to help him. I had seen the guy around quite often and had actually helped him out on a couple other occasions. He was lifting about 200 pounds when he let the bar back down on the stand brackets. I still had my hands on the bar when he reached over and touched the faint red marks around my wrists that were barely visible.
“Handcuffs or ropes?” he asked.
I hesitated to answer as I quickly started to move my hands away.
“Don’t move your hands until I tell you!” he ordered emphatically.
I immediately put them back on the bar as he continued, “Now I asked you a question, and when I do I expect an immediate answer. Are those marks from handcuffs or ropes?”
“Handcuffs,” I replied sheepishly.
Pausing a moment, I realized what he wanted and then answered, “Handcuffs, Sir.”
“That’s better. I’m glad you’re starting to learn your place so quickly. We’re going to have to work on that, aren’t we, little guy?”
“Now go on in the locker room and get showered. We’re going to go get something to eat and do a little talking.”
“But, I’ve got to….”
“I didn’t ask you what you had to do. I told you what you’re going to do. Now get your skinny little ass in there and clean up. And you’d better not dilly dally. Hurry up and get back out here or I’ll be in there to help you. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Sir,” I responded meekly.
I left the weight room and rushed to get myself changed. I wasn’t sure why I was letting him control me, but for some strange reason I couldn’t help myself.
As we left the gym, Phil handed me his duffle bag so I would be carrying both of them. We walked down the street, him leading the way and me following a couple of steps behind. When we got to the restaurant he stood at the door and waited for me to open it for him. I did it as he expected I would.
The waitress soon approached our table and handed us some menus. “Can I get you fellows something to drink while you decide what you want to order?”
“Sure, I’ll have sweet tea. He’ll have water,” Phil responded not giving me time to speak.
The cute little blond with the long, slender legs quickly departed and returned in just a couple of minutes with our drinks.
“Do you need a little more time before you order?” she asked pleasantly.
“No, I think we’re ready. I’ll have the grilled chicken sandwich with lettuce, tomato and mayo. He’ll have a garden salad, no dressing.”
“Thanks. I’ll put the order right in for you,” she said as she left.
Finally, he looked at me. “So who puts the handcuffs on you? You got a girlfriend who’s into some kinky stuff or do you like to do it to yourself before you jerk off?”
I was a little taken back by his very forward questions. He was certainly wasting no time.
“I – ah – I… I do it myself. I’m sort of into self-bondage. I’ve never found anyone I could share my little fetish with.”
“Well, I guess you’re going to be sharing it with me from now on. I’ll enjoy locking you up in chains and watching you squirm.”
“No, no… That’s ok. I’m not sure that I want….”
“Did I give you a choice?”
“No, Sir, but….”
“I… I’m not gay.”
“You’re not gay what?”
“I’m not gay, Sir.”
“What difference does that make? Not being gay doesn’t preclude you from being my slave. You want someone to tie you up and chain you in some rather uncomfortable positions, and I’m willing to do that to you and a whole lot more. Besides did anyone say anything about sex?”
“Then what’s your interest in me and what’s this slave stuff?”
“It’s simple. You’re a submissive little shit who needs someone to take control of his life.”
“A – a….”
“Listen to me. See if I’m not right. You’re a smart kid. You’re really cute and have a great body. Even though you’re quite small, you’re quick and fast, making you one of the star soccer players on the college team, but you have a secret life. You love bondage and you crave the discipline and pain that goes along with it.
“You like going to porn shops and watching videos of guys being cruelly dominated by some beautiful, wicked woman with big boobs which are being held up by a tightly cinched leather corset. That smooth, black leather turns you on, doesn’t it? Well, as she beats the little, worthless worm beneath her, you jack off and blow your load. You do that, don’t you?”
I didn’t say anything.
“Yes, Sir,” I replied as I looked down at the table.
“You always stop by the toy section of the video store and look at all the dildos and butt plugs. It’s hard for you to believe that anyone could ever get some of those gigantic things up their asses. You stare at the penis pumps ‘cause you wish your little pecker was larger; then you check out all the bondage gear before you spot it. You are drawn to a chastity device that would make it impossible for you to get a hard-on, jerk off or even have sex. You wonder who you could trust to hold on to the keys and control you.
“Finally, you browse the S&M section of the magazines and buy those tabloid-like newspapers. You know the ones – S&M News, Fetish Times, Women in Command, Bondage Times, Pain and Punishment, Leather Links – you know the ones I’m talking about. You go back to your room and read them over and over again until you’ve memorized every story. You drool over the pictures with your dick all hard getting ideas for your next failed self-bondage attempt. You fantasize about being the victim, wishing you could change places with the poor wretch who’s having his nuts beaten or something far worse. Each issue is tattered and torn and covered with dirty cum stains.
“How am I doing so far, little guy?
“You tie yourself up and play bondage games whenever you’re alone. Hell, you’ve been doing that your entire life. Ever since you were a little boy you’ve been fascinated with ropes and chains. You always liked to be the one caught and tied up if you played Cops and Robbers or Cowboys and Indians with your friends.
“You’re into self-bondage but can never be truly satisfied because you’re always afraid to push that final lock shut. You think, ’What if something goes wrong? What if I can’t get lose?’ So you never get the true satisfaction, do you?
“I bet you even like girl’s underwear, don’t you? Do you have a sister?”
“Yes, Sir,” I said as I listened to him describe my life to a t.
“You used to steal your sister’s panties especially after she’s worn them for the day, didn’t you? You’d sniff that slightly moist special spot and then jerk off.”
He looked me right in the eyes as he continued telling me what I already knew. “You like the feel of her little silky bikinis and tiny little thongs – especially the pinks ones with satin and lace. You love wearing her dainty little bras as they tightly hug your chest and gently hold your little titties, don’t you?”
When you go to Wal-Mart or some other store you always make it a point to drift along the lingerie section, taking subtle little glances at all the sexy little delicacies, wishing you had the nerve to buy some of them. They excite you. I bet if we went to your room right now and I searched through your drawers or some other little hiding place, I’d find a stash of those pretty, sexy, intimate things you stole from your sister or from the laundry room on campus, wouldn’t I? I bet you wear them to class or out in public every once in a while too. It gets you so excited, doesn’t it? You fantasize that your Mistress forces you to wear them. You probably wear just enough outer clothes to make them almost visible. If you turn just right or bend over a little too far, people will see the tell-tale lines that would expose your dirty little secret. You get a rush from the possibility of someone noticing what you’re wearing.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Yes, Sir.” I said meekly.
“You’re a perverted little masochist. On the ball field you may be a dominate individual but everywhere else you’re a submissive little slave longing for a Mistress or a Master. Actually you know your place in life is on your knees, kneeling at the feet of your Master, don’t you?”
I nodded my head as he continued. “You’ve even thought of visiting a Dominatrix so you can experience the thrill of kissing someone’s feet while being whipped.
“Your computer is probably choked with porn sites. Your favorites probably include BDSM Stories as well as a few kinky video sites. You check out the many women looking for a man to serve them for a small fee, of course. Maybe you even have a membership to Alt.com so you can search for someone to be your Mistress and beat your sorry little ass.
“I bet every girl that you’re attracted to is a real bossy little bitch. Probably your girlfriend expects you to put her on a pedestal so you can worship her, doesn’t she? And you do it. You buy her stuff and even grovel at her feet getting a hard-on as you paint her toe nails. You like serving her. You pretend that you’re her slave.
“Well today’s your lucky day, slave, because I just entered your life. You’re finally going to get what you’ve been searching for.
“I knew all about you when I saw you in the gym. I saw the way you looked at all those women in their tight spandex clothes. It wasn’t with lust because you wanted to fuck them. Hell no… you wondered what it would be like to have them standing on your balls with a whip in their hands. I watched you in the gym store as you checked out the workout bras and those little pink women’s shorts.
“It was all confirmed when I saw the tell-tale marks on your wrists and ankles. I knew immediately what you were and I knew that you would eventually be my slave. All I had to do was wait until the right moment. And that was today. When I walked by and checked out your wrists, I decided I would own you before the day was out.
“You like bondage and discipline. We’ve established that. Do you know what I like to do to little guys like you? I like to lock my slave in chains for long periods of time so they’re totally helpless and constantly wondering when I’m going get my kicks. I like to strap them down over a bondage horse and paddle their pretty little asses while they scream and cry and beg for mercy. You do like having your ass paddled, don’t you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve fantasized about it a little, I guess.”
“I guess you have, and you know what? It’s going to happen. I’m going to lock your arms and legs to the heavy oak timbers of my horse and your slim ass is going to be sticking right up there totally exposed and waiting for my whip. Then I’m going to beat your innocent little derrière until it’s on fire. You’re going to scream and beg as my whip cuts across your helpless ass leaving all those beautiful black and blue welts. It’s going to hurt worse than anything you can ever imagine, but you’re going to love it and beg me for more.”
I sat there speechless as he continued to talk, “I really enjoy hanging a slave from the ceiling by his wrists and putting some heavy weights on his balls before I whip him.”
He watched me as I started to squirm a little in my chair opposite him. “Stand up, now!” he ordered.
Reluctantly, I got up from the table. He saw it. Anyone who looked at me could see it. My cock was getting really hard, creating an obscene tent in my shorts as it tried to get up to a full erection.
“All this talk of bondage and whips really turns you on, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir,” I said softly, hanging my head down onto my chest.
“Don’t be ashamed. I knew it would. You’d be spanking your little monkey right now if you could. I bet when you get back to your room you’ll beat that thing as hard as you can until you blow a big load just thinking of all the things I’m going to do to you. Won’t you?”
“I don’t know…. Probably.”
“Oh, you will. There’s no doubt about it.”
As I started to sit down, he immediately stopped me. “Did I tell you to sit?”
“I’ve got a better idea. Since you want to play with yourself and get your rocks off so badly, why don’t you take one of those paper cups from that cart over there and go into the men’s room and fill it for me. I want you to jerk that little thing off and catch every bit of your hot spunk. Don’t lose a single drop of it. Understand?”
“No buts. Just do as you’re told and bring it back here. Now get going before the waitress comes back and I have to tell her where you’ve gone and what you’re doing.”
Shyly I walked over to the supply cart and took one of the paper cups. After drawing a deep breath and looking back at him I went into the bathroom and closed the stall door. I sat down and with my shorts around my ankles I looked down at my throbbing, dripping cock. I couldn’t believe how hard I was....