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My Master has ordered me to continue my recollections of the events that led me to my true and happy calling as a slave, so here is where we pick up from my fraternity pledge period at a major Texas university. As I have already recounted, I became a total slave to the frat’s president and his close buddy, the pledge master, and spent my time worrying about my life after they, as seniors, graduated as I was just completing my freshman year. But I am getting ahead of myself and will continue recounting those days immediately following my enslavement in the frat president’s room.
The torture of waiting for the other shoe to drop was dreadful. There was no word or sign of either my Master, Lance, the president, or of my other master, his buddy, for several weeks. I saw them entering and leaving the frat house but I instinctively lowered my eyes and neither spoke to me. At the end of the pledge period, I was unanimously voted in as a full member and received a hearty handshake in front of the assembled house members from each of them…but no other words or signs of recognition. Returning from afternoon classes one sunny Fall day, I passed the Boss Man’s room and saw he was engaged in conversation with his jock buddy, the same positions as when I first joyously lost my freedom to them several weeks before. They signaled for me to enter that exciting place and to close the door. The Boss snapped his fingers and I instinctively prostrated myself at his feet, burying my head in the soft smell of his leather boots.
Placing his other booted foot on the side of my groveling face, he said quietly but sternly, “I give orders only once. I never repeat them. Do you understand?”
I was brimming over with happiness and could only croak a “Yes, Master.” His next orders, delivered with my face hopelessly sandwiched between his two boots, etched themselves totally in my mind.
“You will go into town and rent a one bedroom apartment. You will keep it ready for either or both of us at all times. A call on the cell phone that you will always carry will alert you to our need of your freaking’ slave services or to the fact that you will have to clean up after we’ve used it. This may occur at any hour, day or night. You are to break-off whatever you are doing and get there pronto. When you have this set-up, no later than tomorrow afternoon, you will notify one of us and be waiting there with a full accounting of your finances. We will then determine how much, if anything, you need and the rest will be gratefully offered to us and you will beg us to take it. If you don’t get enough from home, you’ll get a part-time job. You will be given ample time to study and for classes. You will wear no clothes there except a slave collar and you had better not be caught wearing clothes when we are there. You are now a piece of property and have no free will. This is your last and only chance to refuse this arrangement. We don’t negotiate. Do you surrender your manhood?”
I wept with ecstatic joy on my Master’s boot as I heartily accepted these irrevocable terms. Master hoisted me by my hair to a kneeling position, took his beautiful cock out and…and He allowed my to drink his piss! I was caught off-guard but recovered and swallowed gratefully. Instead of removing his magnificent manhood, he started thrusting and cum soon cascaded down my throat, plastering my tonsils with its sticky substance.
As Master withdrew, he nodded almost imperceptibly toward Jim, his buddy and now my other Master. I turned, groveled at Master Jim’s feet, pledging my slavery, and then happily took his piss. A large load of his cum quickly followed. Master Jim put a different twist on things by pulling out of my mouth at the last minute and splattering my face with his thick, heated seed. The entire scene had obviously turned my Masters on but I was wise enough not to comment. As though nothing had happened, they ignored me and resumed an animated discussion of that day’s football practice. I slunk away without a word. Slaves do not intrude on their superiors’ activities. I was experiencing rapture.
Between my two first classes I made a few calls to local landlords whose ads I read in the classifieds. By early afternoon a remote apartment in a sparsely tenanted building had been rented and I slipped the address with a key under Master’s door. Two hours later I received a terse call telling me to be there at 6PM. I was there at five, stocking the ancient fridge with cold beer. And then I waited, naked, dreading yet anxiously anticipating the coming evening. About 7:15 a car drove up, the sound of heavy footsteps pounding down the hall got my heart racing and in strode my Masters, sly, evil grins on their handsome faces. I lay prostrate and, without a word, Master Lance plopped in a chair, grabbed my slave collar and indicated that I should remove his boots and sox as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his smooth, muscular chest. Within seconds he sat there naked, grinning, then spoke, not to me but to his buddy, Jim. “You could barely keep your woody under control all day, Jimmy Boy. Now’s your chance to give that big fella between your legs some relief.” Jim was undressing and, now naked and without answering, roughly ran his veined dick all over my lips, wetting it. He then forced me into an inverted V position and plunged his long cock into my ass. It was my first time being fucked. I saw stars as the pain surged through my body and my unusual position of both of my feet and both hands on the floor didn’t help matters. I bit my lip hard and made no sound. I knew instinctively that a slave’s pain is of no concern to his Masters.
Jim’s thrusts were so hard that I was forced to move in jerks about the room. That seemed to vastly amuse both Jim and Master Lance, undoubtedly reminding them of a cowboy breaking in a new steer. I caught a fleeting glance in the full length mirror on the back of the door of Jim, almost withdrawing but then throwing his arms in the air and thrusting hard one last time as he gave out a bloodcurdling rebel yell. His hot cum filled my rectum. He withdrew his golden rod and wiped it on my hair. Now Master Lance slowly stood and snapped his fingers. I crawled to him and lovingly placed my face into his crotch as he indicated. Inhaling the warm, heady aroma of young, clean male sweat did to me what I later found poppers did…but the aphrodisiac of poppers was never as exhilarating as the delicious musk of Master Lance’s crotch. He positioned me on my backside, the back of my head on the seat of the chair he had just vacated. Master then spread the cheeks of his ass and sat on my face. Another new world opened for me! My tongued licked furiously as Master groaned softly and, beneath the firm buttocks, I could hear the muffled sounds of Jim laughing. I reveled in my humiliation and my total debasement by these two clearly superior men whose slave I was so honored to be. I was in harmony with my true nature and knew my destiny. These thoughts were abruptly terminated by my Master’s standing and I quickly scurried into a kneeling position. He graciously allowed me to suck him dry and I savored the gism as it pulsated into my mouth.
Masters Lance and Jim dressed and I helped them with their boots by pushing my face against them as they slid onto their feet. It was then that I received my instructions. In the trunk of Lance’s car were two hefty bags of dirty laundry. After they left I was to immerse my face in the heap of moldering jock straps, grungy sneakers and stiff sweat sox and was told I could jerk off at that time. I was very grateful to my Masters for their kindness and looked forward to the release that orgasm would bring. Pre-cum drip was already forming on the tip of my cock. Their laundry would be washed and folded for their next visit when they would replenish the supply. I told them how much money I had left after expenses for the frat house, meal ticket and now the apartment. They immediately slashed that small amount by two-thirds. That would be humbly given to them weekly. Having been given permission to speak, I asked if I might have some gas money for my car, a present from my parents the day I left for the university. “What car?” Master Lance asked sarcastically as he and Jim roared laughing. Its now yours only to wash. “You’ll walk, hitchhike or use an old bike for your errands. Slaves don’t drive new cars. Masters do!” With that, he confiscated my keys. That made sense to me and I thanked my Masters for pointing out this obvious truth. They left, Master Lance driving my…his…car and I came twice with my head buried in their sweetly rank laundry. I fell asleep, totally at peace with myself and with my new world.
Author’s note: I have errands to run and chores to do now. I’ll continue these memoirs if anyone is interested and when I’m permitted. Thank you.
