Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Descent into Slavery

I am writing this in the basement of the house in which I live with my owner. I am in pain, as I am much of the time. My testicles are currently clamped at level 4, which makes them ache constantly, though not enough to prevent me from moving, working, and serving my mistress.

My mistress is named Serena. She has not only given me permission to write this, she instructed me to do so. If I do a good job, I may have the testicle clamps removed for a while. Serena believe that her slave should be in constant discomfort, and that the absence of discomfort is a reward for good behavior and obedience.

My journey began when I was a teen boy experimenting with my sexuality, and discovered I liked the play of being tied up. I seemed to hook up with girls that were domineering and was never happy with the more submissive girls. I discovered my tastes were unpleasant and rejected by most girls so I hid them. Through out college I had "normal" relationships with girls. I love sex, and fucked a number of women during my early 20s.

In my late 20s I couldn't stand it any more. I needed something more, and girls sensed this. I never kept a girlfriend for more than a few months; none of them would dominate me, hurt me, or humiliate me the way I desired. So I looked around for a commercial dominatrix and after a few false leads and poor experiences I found Mistress Serena.

Serena is a tall thin girl, muscular and well proportioned. She has dark hair and a beautiful though stern looking face. When I first saw her I knew what I wanted.

Serena made it clear that she is not a prostitute. She charged money to dominate and hurt men that desired it, but there was never any sexual interaction of any kind. During my first visit she explained that I would never be naked in front of her, and she would never remove her clothes, either. I might disrobe as she pleased, but would always be wearing shorts or underwear. Nudity was not allowed.  She would not touch my genitals, nor would I be allowed to touch her body.

I agreed. The first session cost me $200 for one hour, and when I left my back was covered with red stripes, my knees scraped from crawling, and I had a throbbing erection that made me drive home fast to relieve myself. I masturbated three times after that first session. It was thrilling. Serena had tied me up, hurt me, demanded obedience, and I was in heaven.

Two weeks later I returned for another session. $400, two hours. I remember licking her black leather boots, and then being hung from the ceiling by my tied wrists wearing a hood that completely covered my head.  Two tiny holes allowed a minimum amount of air to enter, that was it. My wrists, arms and back hurt as I simply hung there with my toes inches above the floor, unable to see or hear what was happening. Suddenly, a whip kissed my body, wrapping around my back and chest. I jerked and screamed through the hood. The whipping was erratic, strokes coming at uneven intervals so I couldn't prepare myself for the pain.

Over the coming weeks my masturbation levels increased, and I thought of my mistress often. I didn't have enough money to go as often as I liked. All my spare money was saved so that I could go once every three or four weeks for a two hour session. My boss once asked me if I was OK one Monday, because I was walking gingerly. I was still sore from the beating Serena had given me the Saturday before.

Serena raised her prices to $300 an hour. There was demand for her services; other men were coming to her house and she didn't need to work all the time. She has a regular job during the days, and being a dominatrix has always been extra cash for her, and because... well, because she loves it. She is also gorgeous and can pick and choose who she takes.

In spite of the increased cost, I continued to go to Serena's whenever I could. I brought her tributes when I could afford it. A new leather hood one month, a couple of months later a flogger. I was proud of the inflatable gag. The most expensive item I ever bought her was a stainless steel male chastity device.

I guess it was the chastity device that caused the shift in our relationship. When she received it, she sat down on the couch with me kneeling in front of her. We had a conversation that went something like this.

"You know I can't accept this."

"I understand I am not worthy, but it is simply a sign of my devotion."

"You apparently don't understand. The device works by direct application to genitalia. I am not a whore, I do not accept money for sexual activity, and by giving this to me and paying me you are telling me I am a whore."

At this I shook and flung myself at her feet. "No, Mistress Serena, I never meant anything like that. Please forgive me!"

Serena thought for a moment, "Well, I can take one of two actions here. Return this gift to you and then beat you within an inch of your life, or accept this gift from someone that wishes to enter into a permanent relationship with me as sex slave. No more money. No more restrictions. You would be mine to do with as I please. Sex, pain, love, whatever. Permanently."

I lay on the floor breathing hard, sweating, not knowing what was going to happen.

"Which way do you think we should go?"

This was the first time Serena had ever asked me a question or given me a choice. I was a little taken aback, but I also understood I would be making a decision to escalate our relationship from one of a client paying for services to that of a sex slave owned by my mistress.

"Mistress Serena, I am yours. I have been yours for many months. I wish for nothing else."

Serena thought for a moment and then answered.  "Very well. Stand up and remove your underwear."

I shook nervously as I stood and dropped my underwear. This was the first time I had ever exposed myself completely to her, and it was a very emotional (and scary) experience. My penis stuck straight out, hard, and bounced very slightly at the rapid beating of my heart.

Serena went into the kitchen and brought back a bowl of ice.

"Place your penis in the ice," she said. I did as she wished. The ice immediately began to shrink my erection, and after a minute was hurting.  "Keep your disgusting flesh in the ice, slave."

It took 10 minutes for my cock to shrivel completely, I was so aroused. But finally, it was a tiny lump of flesh and Serena took the chastity device and placed my genitals inside. It was the first time my mistress had touched my penis or scrotum. She slid the small lock in place, snapped it shut and tested it to make sure it was secure.

"Session is over for now. Come back next Saturday morning, 8:00AM. Get out."

I dressed and left, my genitals locked securely away. As I drove home I realized I was not going to be able to masturbate as I had every time I had been to Serena's before. Feeling the cage between my legs aroused me, I started to get hard. There was no room in the device, and my incipient erection began to hurt, which caused the erection to subside. I was frustrated, and excited. I couldn't wait a week to see Serena again. I wondered if she would remove the chastity device, and whether I would ever see her naked. I had never before considered that it might be possible, that she might remove her clothes and allow me to see her nude. But now, it seemed like perhaps...

For the first time, I considered that there was some inkling of a possibility that I might be able to enter my mistresses body. I immediately became erect again, and suffered all the way home.

In fact, I suffered the entire week. My cock was constantly trying to grow and expand in its cage, and consequently I was in constant discomfort. My boss at work questioned me again, and even told me I might want to see a doctor when he found me in the back room bent over, sweating and groaning.

Thursday night I tried to work around the cage, or even get it off. My skin chaffed and testicles ached and hurt with my struggles. Eventually it because clear that I might be able to get it off, but there might be some damage to my testicles, and I began to remember that I had to present myself to Serena on Saturday, and she would not take kindly to my having removed the device. I decided to stop my attempts to get it off.

Saturday morning came and I woke early. I was so excited that I got out of bed and hour early, dressed and headed over to Serena's house. She lived in a semi-rural neighborhood where people could come and go discreetly. I sat in the car at the end of her drive waiting for 8AM. When it arrived, I drove up to the house, got out and rang the doorbell.

Serena opened the door and allowed me to enter. She was wearing very casual clothes, unlike our usual sessions. Instead of leather pants and a corset she was wearing jeans and a rough work shirt. In spite of this, she looked more beautiful and sexy than I had ever imagined. I worshiped her.

We sat down at her kitchen table. The whole situation felt very different, her attitude felt different, my level of arousal and anticipation was heightened; I didn't know what to expect.

She produced some legal documents.  The first was a slave contract. It defined the terms and conditions of our relationship. In summary, she was in charge. Her word was law, I was to obey. I could cancel out of the agreement at any time, that was clear. There was a clause that assured that our separate property would remain separate; any gifts, transfer of wealth, or other property which I gave her while the contract was in force would remain hers, and any property that was mine would remain mine. I had no rights to "community property" or half of anything. Anything I owned would remain mine, unless I gave it to her, at which point it would obviously be hers. This made sense to me.

The slave contract also outlined that while she would not do anything to risk my life, that she was to be the judge of all discipline and that I did not have a say in it. The only action I could take was to opt out of the contract. No safe words -- the only safe word was to cancel the contract and leave. I was either in or out.

As I sat reading the contract my cock was rock hard, bent and pressed and smashed inside the horrible cage I had purchased and given to her just the week before. The idea of being completely subservient to Serena, of giving myself and my freedom to her, allowing her complete control over my body... it just drove me crazy with desire. It was hard to read the contract. I could smell her body, hear her breath, sense her presence at every moment.

There were other conditions and terms, less fundamental but still called out.

I signed, and she signed, and the deal was done.

The next document was a model release. I was a little surprised, but she informed me that she intended to take pictures of me, or have someone else take pictures of us when we were together, and that it was a legal necessity. It was a weird request, but also one that excited me. I loved the idea of our games being caught on film. It made me feel even more vulnerable and helpless, which was what I wanted, down deep inside.

I signed the model release, and it was done. I was Serena's sex toy pain slut slave.

My chastity device never came off that weekend, though many of my wishes were fulfilled during those two days, and they were mixed with frustration and pain as I had never experienced. Yes, I saw Serena naked from the waist up, her breasts magnificent before me. I was punished severely for gaping at them, placed on my back on a table with my legs pulled apart and my balls beaten with a leather belt. Yes, we had sexual intercourse, but it was completely different than I had ever imagined; my penis wasn't involved at all. Instead, she rammed my ass with a huge strap on, filling and stretching me until I whimpered for mercy.

I slept at Serena's house for the first time, after a full day of service to her. I slept in the basement in a small cage. A bucket was provided for urinating and defecating. Left overs scraped from her dinner plate were placed in a dog bowl for me to eat as when I was hungry.

Serena took pictures of me in my cage that Sunday. The bucket was clearly visible as were its contents. My food bowl showed signs of my eating. She let me out of the cage and had me roll over onto my back, legs high in the air and spread to show my locked genitalia.

Sunday night I was sent home at 6:00 PM, and told to return the following Saturday at 8:00 AM once again.  I asked if I could have the chastity device removed before I left and Serena looked at me as if I had grown a third eye. I left with the device still on. I was growing to hate it.

That week at work was truly difficult. The chastity device bothered me every second, mostly because I was aroused and it hurt. I could never get a real erection; but the arousal was still there and I could think of nothing but Serena's beautiful breasts and being butt fucked by her. The lock on my genitals reminded me that I was hers, owned by her, under her control, every waking moment.

The next weekend I finally had the male chastity device removed, so I could bathe. Or rather, so Serena could bathe me. She washed my body in the shower, including my cock and balls. It was heaven to be naked in the shower with her; our bodies touched at times, and my erection was constant. I almost came when she washed me with her soapy hands.

That night before I was placed in the cage Serena took the scrapings of her dinner and placed them in a bowl for me as she had before. This time she told me to position myself over the food, and then masturbate. It had been two weeks since I had ejaculated and I was filled with sperm, ready to cum. I straddled the plate and began stroking. It took no time at all before I was grunting and spewing semen out all over my food. When done, Serena placed me in the cage along with my sperm topped food and locked me in.

I ate the food; I was hungry. That was the first, but most certainly not the last time I ate my own sperm.

This situation went on for six weeks and it became more difficult for me to do my job. I was exhausted at the beginning of the week, sometimes sore and bruised from serving my mistress this entire time. If I was in chastity, the device was mildly uncomfortable but bearable. If I was not restrained, it was worse. I had a constant erection and spent time in the bathroom pleasuring myself, constantly.

The solution came the weekend that Serena suggested I quit my job and move in with her, permanently. This was a big step but a natural one. By this time Serena had become the most important single thing in my life; my job was good and I would have preferred to keep working, but it was getting difficult. So that week I gave two weeks notice and packed things from my apartment.

When I was ready to move, Serena came over and told me there was very little I could bring with me. Clothes were in general unnecessary. So was furniture (she had what was needed) or a bed (I didn't sleep in one any more, unless she might allow me into hers). So we held a garage sale and sold just about everything. The few items she allowed me to keep she said I should donate to her, along with the proceeds of the garage sale. I handed over the cash (there was only about $200 from the garage sale) and a couple of furniture items she said she could use around the house.

I moved in.

Sleeping with Serena in her bed was out of the question. She didn't want me in her bed unless it was to serve her or for her comfort. At times I gave her massages, and she frequently had me lay down so she could sit on my face. What happened when she sat on my face varied; usually I stimulated her until she came, sometimes several times. If she was particularly horny, she pressed down hard, making it all but impossible to breathe. A few times she sat on my face and urinated or defecated. These times I cried, it was so humiliating and disgusting. Serena would look at me with concern, and then laugh.

Serena did sleep with others, both men and women. Sometimes she made me watch, or even lick her boots while she was being thrust into by some other guy's cock. She had a boyfriend for a while. He didn't like me, and she allowed him to torture me at times. I served him as I served her. One day I was tied with my arms above my head and legs spread apart and her boyfriend kicked my balls, repeatedly. I screamed and begged for mercy, which just seemed to spur him on. Serena finally called a halt to it, not wanting me to be damaged permanently. I was her property, after all.

Her boyfriend also fucked me a couple of times. I am not gay and it was really disgusting to me. The first time I took his cock in my mouth I thought I would choke and vomit, but I kept it there. He just shoved it in and out; I didn't have to do much. Another time he fucked me in the ass. The worst part of the whole process was after he came I had his semen in my mouth, or in my ass, or dribbling down my leg or chin. I wanted to die at those times. Serena took pictures and enjoyed the scene.

It was after being abused by Serena's boyfriend that I began to wonder if I wanted to stay with her. So much of my life was exactly what I wanted; I was happy with Serena, though being humiliated like that was very, very difficult for me. I don't know... during the entire time I was being raped by her guy I had a hardon. It wasn't because of him, like I say I am not gay. It was because he was an instrument of Serena. I was subjugated by her, and that had become very, very easy to accept.

Soon after she broke with her boyfriend (threw him out, actually), I mentioned to her I was glad and that I had begun having doubts. We were actually out together, shopping at Home Depot to get stuff for her house. I was in chastity, and wearing one of three basic outfits I kept for going out into public. These clothes were basically all I owned at that time.

I had been living in her house for a year and a half at this time.

When we got home, Serena called me over to show me something on her computer. She brought up a web site. When I saw it I was shocked. There were pictures of me, all over it. In fact, it was a sort of expose of my slavery, including all the most humiliating and debauched aspects of my behavior. I flushed as I realized just how low I had sunk, how these images of me made me look like the worst of degenerates.

There I was on all fours, getting ass fucked by her boyfriend with an odd look that might have been pleasure on my face.

There I was in my cage with my own semen dribbling down my chin, looking pathetic.

Another picture of me showed my tongue out licking Serena's boots, my face smeared with drool.

And there... a picture with my face smeared with her shit, looking unhappy.

She told me what was going on.

"This web site is secured right now. It requires a password to get in, and I am the one with the password. You signed a model agreement when you committed to be my slave, and these pictures are mine to do with as I please."

Serena leaned over and caressed my face lovingly. "And you see dear, you can leave any time. Of course, the moment you leave, this web site goes public, and the extensive library of pictures and movies I have of you will go out on the internet. You won't be able to get a job, or a girlfriend, or... well, do much of anything except maybe be a submissive male fetish model or beg your way into some desperate old woman's house."

I sat, shocked with the realization that she had me locked in to her slavery so much more securely than I had ever imagined. Our private relationship was something I desired, and reveled in. But if it were made public, it would make life very, very difficult.

"And lastly dear, you forget that you sold your car, and transferred your bank accounts to me. You have no money. If you leave, I will give you one set of clothing and $50. After that, you would be on your own. Good luck going back to your Mom after I email her the web site URL."

That was it. I had voluntarily given up everything in my life, slowly but surely. She owned what little I had, even my clothes. She also owned what little dignity I had, and could squeeze and mold and destroy it whenever she pleased.  I sat numb, the realization that I really was her slave, owned by her, completely dependent on her.

"Now, slave. Get out of those clothes. Tonight, I think I might let you fuck me."

My jaw dropped. In a year and half of being with Serena as her owned slave she had never allowed me inside her body. I had been made to watch while she fucked others, of course, which was a form of torture all by itself. But I was never allowed to touch her for my own pleasure.

That night, it happened, but not the way I thought.  That night I was brought into her bedroom. Serena was naked, and my cock was instantly erect.

She took a cream and began smearing it on my scrotum, then behind my scrotum and finally into my anus. It felt cool and nice, and I thought perhaps it was a type of lube. That didn't make sense though, because she very carefully kept it from getting on my hardened cock.

I realized why a minute or two later when it began to burn. It was Capsaicin. Wow did it burn. I began to whimper and beg for relief. Everything between my legs was on fire within a few minutes, and tears came to my eyes.

Serena positioned me at the foot of her bed, facing it. She took a thin cord that she had tied to the bed frame and tied it securely around my flaming testicles. Then she lay on the bed and spread her legs invitingly.

"Come, fuck me. Now, I want you inside."

In spite of the pain between my legs, the sight of my mistress naked and spread wide for me was all I needed. I moved forward, ready to mount her.

The rope on my balls pulled me back.

"Come, dear. Now. Fuck me." Serena was demanding.

I moved forward further, still crying from the pain between my legs; the rope around my balls kept them behind as I pulled further and further up. My cock touched her inner thighs, I could almost feel her moist pussy... but the rope had my balls stretched far behind me, perhaps six inches or more. Not only did the pepper cream burn my flesh, my balls were stretched taught and aching.

"Fuck me! Now!" Serena barked the order, not kidding. She wanted it. I pushed further, the pain in my balls growing. The tip of my cock reached the softness of her pussy and that one sensation made me not care what other pain I was in, I would enter her. I thrust. My balls stretched behind me, aching agonizingly, but I was inside! Inside Serena, for the first time! She was soft, and wet, and warm, and sliding in I felt the texture of her vagina... and I thrust again.

Each thrust brought new waves of pain, and new heights of pleasure. I felt Serena's body under me as we fucked, pain swathing my hips and legs, the act of pleasure with her an act of pain for me. It didn't matter. My thrusts became more urgent, and she raised her legs high and wide, and with a few more thrusts I shuddered, pushing deep, pulling my testicles back and stretching my scrotum farther than I ever thought it could go, but it was worth it, every bit of pain was worth it because I was cumming inside my mistress. My orgasm shuddered through my body, and when it was over I backed up, relieving the pressure on my balls, and rolled onto my back with legs spread. I burned, burned down there, ached and burned and was spent.

I've been allowed to enter Serena since then, but never without some price. There is always pain involved, and it is always worth it. Whether it is needles that thrust into my balls with each thrust of my cock into her, or a burning hot curling iron in my ass positioned so it impales my ass each time I withdraw, I am in agony and in ecstasy when I am allowed to fuck her.

It has now been four years and I have completely accepted my role. I barely remember what it was like to be free.

This story will be placed on the secured web site my mistress maintains to record my depravity. I am now totally and entirely hers, I am owned by her. It is not consensual. I have no choice. I gave up the choice by my own free will, and now live with the commitment made. I gave up the choice freely, and am now trapped in the consequences.

Mistress Serena says she has a new cage for me tonight. She says it is much smaller than the old one, and that I won't be able to lay down in it. I hope she removes the testicle clamps first. They hurt. Really bad.


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