Date: Tue, 16 Jan 2001 10:00:45 -0500
From: Stuart James <StuartjamesJ@netscape.net>
Subject: Chat line

[Authors Note: I actually chatted online with someone
similar to the character `Owned' who appears in the
first part of the story. I have embellished what he
said and taken some of his words completely out the
context in which he used them. But he gave me the idea
for this story. If he ever reads this story and
recognises himself, I would just like to say `thank
you' and that I enjoyed our chat. Unlike the main
character in the story, I did not feel sorry for him
as he clearly had found a life he wanted and enjoyed.
I wish him well.]


It started innocently enough. I was working on the
computer trying to get the latest version of Netscape
to download. The PC locked twice and the keyboard
stopped working once. So after three long and
frustrating re-boots I decided to take a break and
logged into one of the gay chat lines. I usually just
watch other people's comments, and look at their
profiles and pictures rather than `chat' myself. From
the few times I have initiated a `chat', people have
been such arseholes that it always seems to be a waste
of time to get involved.  Of course if someone wants
to chat to me, I usually just play along and say what
seems appropriate to the situation. I do not think
that this is me being unfair, as they want to talk to
me. This time everyone seemed to be just watching.
Plenty of people were logged in, but no one was saying
anything. I switched from room to room and it seemed
to be the same in all the rooms I looked into.

I decided to switch again and the cursor stopped on
the leather room. It was busy, so I went in there. I
suppose some would say I was as big an asshole as
everyone else. Whatever chat room I went into I would
pick an appropriate alias. So in the `teens' room I
became a 17-year-old schoolboy, and in the military
room a sailor on shore leave. I had a number of fairly
appropriate photos that I attached to my profiles. I
tried the alias `leather' in the leather room. It was
rejected as a name already being used. I changed it to
`boots and leather' and got in.  I attached a
`neutral' photo to my profile. I am not really into
leather and I did not want to give too much of the
wrong idea. In my own way, I always try to give the
punters on the other end an even break.

In the first five minutes a few contributions were
made. But overall it was fairly quiet, with a few
people logging in and out. I passed the cursor over
the list of names. I stopped on one called `Owned'.
The profile said that he was `collared, ringed, marked
and restrained and instructed by my Master to talk to
other slaves'. I noted the capital `M'.  There was no
photo. What the hell, I was bored. So I decided to
chat to him and double clicked his entry.

"Hi. I can only talk to other slaves. Are you a
slave?" was his first comment. I thought hard. (Yes,
even in my own terms I was being an arsehole).

"Not at the moment, but I think I want to be one. Can
I ask you some questions?"

"Yes" was the curt reply.

"What does it mean `collared'?"

"My Master put a collar on me two years ago. It is
welded on."

"Metal. You can never take it off?"

"No never. It used to have a leather lining but my
Master said that was too good for me so he took the
lining out. But it feels good and I think I would feel
naked without it now."

"I like the sound of that", I lied. Well I had to say
something.

"What does `ringed' mean," I continued when no comment
came from the other end.

"My Master likes me to be pierced. He enjoys doing it.
I have about 20 rings so far mainly in my crotch, but
also through my nose. He likes putting thicker and
thicker rings through me."

"20 in your cock and balls. Wow." I felt a little
queasy.

"Yes. The first was a PA and then he put 8 down the
underside of the shaft and 12 more in my ball sack."

"Do you like them?"

"Of course. It makes my Master happy, so they make me
happy. He says he has made it impossible for me to
ever fuck anyone again. Not that I would want to. I am
my Masters property."

Neither of us said anything for a minute or so.

"A couple of week's ago he replaced the PA with a
prince's wand. That hurt at first as it was a little
bit too thick."

"What is a prince's wand?" I asked having never heard
of one.

"It is a long hollow metal tube that goes down the
piss hole of your cock. It is fastened in place
through the hole the PA ring was in. It has a screw
end so I can only piss when the end is unscrewed. Only
my Master is supposed to unscrew it. If I have to do
it myself, I get punished."

The thought of a metal tube down my cock made me
shudder.

"How does he punish you?"

"It depends how bad I have been. My Master is very
fair. He only punishes me when I deserve it. He might
just slap me. More usually he ties me against the wall
and gives me 6 or more lashes with his whip. If I am
really bad I have to go in the punishment box."

"What is the punishment box?"

"Oh it is wooden box a little bigger than me  a bit
like a coffin I suppose. He makes me wear a rubber
suit and mask. I am completely encased in rubber and
can only breathe through a tube."

I nearly said `how terrible', but the guy obviously
wanted this life.

"How long does he leave you in there?"

"I am never sure. I sort of get lost in my own little
world. He told me once that I had been in the box for
a week."

I wondered what the stench inside the rubber suit
would be like after a day let alone a week. I decided
to change the subject.

"How has he marked you?"

"Tattoos. My master enjoys drawing on me. I think he
will cover me one day. One arm is completely covered
and I have tattoos on my other arm and on my legs
chest and back. And on my neck and hands. He is very
good at them. He says they make me look beautiful and
more worthy of Him." Capital `H'.

"Is your Master with you now?" I used the capital `M'.

"No he went out. He chained me in front of the pc and
told me to be available to anyone who wanted to chat
to me on this line. I cannot initiate a chat. And I
can only talk to other slaves. I am not allowed to
talk to other masters." Other masters got a small `m'.

I had to ask.

"Do you like being a slave?"

"Oh yes. It is all I want. I am very happy, and very
lucky to have such a wonderful Master. He looks after
me so well. Can I ask you a question?"

Even online to another `slave' he sought permission to
ask a question. It made me feel sorry for him.

"Of course. I am the same as you. You do not have to
ask my permission."

"Thank you. Do you really want to be a slave?"

"I am not sure now. What you have told me rather
frightens me." I nearly typed `sickens me' but I did
not want to hurt the other guy's feelings. To make my
answer look better I added, "In any case I would not
know how to go about becoming a slave."

"There are usually plenty of masters on this line.
Seek permission to chat to them and see what happens.
One will find you if you are lucky."

I said I had to go and said goodbye. I logged out of
the chat line and went in search of a drink. Although
what he had said disturbed me more than a little, it
had been one of the more interesting `chats' I had
ever had and it had stirred my curiosity. I could not
make up my mind if the guy the other end was genuine
or (like me I suppose) messing around.

I watched the first 20 minutes of a film billed as `5
star'. After seeing about 20 minutes of it I decided I
really could not give a damn whether the killer was
caught, or whether he killed everybody else or whether
an H bomb fell on New York and put them all out of my
misery. The film was that bad. I went back to the pc.

I logged into the leather room again. I chose
`leathered and booted' as my alias. Well it was
different from the previous one. `Novice slave looking
for leather Master'  capital `M'.  I added a link to
a photo of me in which I was at least wearing a biker
jacket. I can only have been in a minute  about long
enough for someone to check the photo out - when I was
`double clicked'.

"Stats?"

"25  1.8m-70kg-short blond hair."

"Sir" I quickly added.

"Yes remember who you are talking to, boy. Cock?"

I checked out his profile as we chatted. It said
simply `Tough Leather Master looking for a real and
total slave. No cyber'. There was a link to a site
that gave a fuller description of him and it seemed he
lived in my town. The photo showed him dressed in
leather. He seemed to have a good body although I
could not really make out his face because of the
leather cap and dark glasses. His age could have been
anything between 25 and 45, but then age had never
been a hang up for me as it is with so many other
guys.

"6 inches uncut sir." I did not know the metric
equivalent.

"What are you wearing?" I was in jeans and a T-shirt.

"Leather chaps, leather T-shirt and boots, sir."

"Too good for you. Take them off." I don't know why
but I actually stripped!

"I am naked sir."

"Good. Have you got a hard on?"

I had and was playing with it.

"Yes Sir."

"Good. But don't touch it."

"No Sir," I replied rubbing it furiously. I was
finding this all rather exciting.

"So you want to be a slave. Ever been with a Master
before?"

"Not really sir. I once met someone in a bar. He
handcuffed me in the dark room and fucked me. But he
was not my master. It never seemed real to me." It was
all complete fabrication. There was no way I would
ever let someone handcuff me and certainly not in a
darkroom.

"If I take you on it will all be very and painfully
real. There will be no safe words. I will do what I
like until I decide to look for someone else." I had
no idea what a safe word was.

"I will look after you but I will use you in anyway I
want. Understand?"

"I understand Sir. Will you take me on Sir?"

"I will interview you tomorrow night. Be at `Chains'
at 8.30. If I decide I want you I will take it from
there."

"Yes Sir. I hope you want me. I want to learn to be a
good slave. How will I recognise you Sir?" I had no
intention of going.

"I will recognise you."

With that he logged out.

I did not sleep well that night. Every time I woke up
I was thinking about this `Master'. And every time I
had a raging hard on, which I really could not
understand. I went to work the next day, which was a
Friday. I could not get the thought of the previous
days `chats' out of my mind. By the time I left work I
had decided that I would go. Maybe it was just the
thought of a little excitement in what had been a dull
couple of weeks. But it suddenly seemed very exciting.
The photo I had posted had been an old one when my
hair was much longer than it now is and, thanks to a
bottle, much blonder. I thought that he would not
recognise me if I stood in a dark corner.  I would
then try to guess which one he was. The photo he had
posted gave me some idea of what he would look like.
When I thought I had found him or if, by chance, he
found me I would leave. That was what I told myself,
although in retrospect, I am not sure it was what I
meant.

`Chains' is a leather bar. That I knew. I wondered
what to wear. I knew some leather bars had `dress
codes'. I did not know if that was true of `Chains' as
I had never been inside. I decided to keep it simple.
Jeans white T-shirt and the biker jacket. I polished
up some black cowboy boots I had bought in a sale but
rarely worn. I looked at myself in the mirror and was
content that I would not look too out of place in
`Chains'.

I arrived at the bar early. I got there at about 8.15
so that I could get a beer and find a dark place from
which to observe. The bar had about 30 or 40  people
inside, mainly around the edges. Most were in leather
with a few in leather from cap to boots. There were a
couple of people in trainers and anoraks. I need not
have worried about a `dress code'. To me, they looked
completely out of place. But they seemed quite happy
and no one else seemed to care. There were a couple of
Masters and slaves. In any event I thought they were
from the way they reacted to each other.

I stayed put in the back corner, drinking the beer.
Every now and then someone would cruise around the
room. They would come and stare into your eyes. I
stared right back. One felt for my crotch and I
brushed his hand away. I soon realised that there was
no way I would know for sure which was my `Master'. It
had been a stupid notion that I would be able to. I
decided to leave and go to a bar that I would feel
more comfortable in.  I drained the bottle and put it
in the crate on the floor beside me.

One of the `total leather' guys cruised up to me and
stared into my eyes. His eyes had a certain power that
made me divert my eyes. I felt but did not see him
snap one end of a pair of handcuffs on my right wrist.
He quickly fastened the other end to an iron pipe
running down the wall. I suppose I should have been
scared, but it seemed rather exciting at the time.

"I will get us another beer," he said as he walked
away. I looked at his back. He was wearing tight black
leather trousers with heavy engineer boots up to the
knee, and a black leather jacket. He had cropped dark
hair. He was not wearing a cap. When he got to the bar
he stood at right angles to it looking at me. I could
see he had a leather shirt under the jacket and that
his trousers sported a studded black leather belt with
a large chrome buckle. He was wearing tight black
leather gloves. I guessed he was a little older than
me  perhaps 30. He was tall and well built but from
his arse and his stomach you could see that there was
little fat on him.

He came back to me and gave me a beer. I had to take
it in my left hand.

"Why were you hiding in the corner boy?"

"I have never been here before. I felt a bit
uncomfortable."

He grabbed my throat in a gloved hand and squeezed. It
forced me to look in his eyes again. They were as hard
as nails.

"Do not lie to me boy. Every time you lie you will be
punished. Now, why the dark corner?"

I realised at that moment that this was my `Master'.

"Look I just wanted to see what you were like. I don't
think this is a good idea. I really do not think that
I want to be a slave."

"Don't worry. When I have finished training you, you
will not want to be anything else. I told you
yesterday that if I liked the look of you that I would
take it from there. I have been watching you since you
came in and I do like the look of you. The fact you
really do not want this makes it even better. You will
be a good slave, I promise."

He let go of my throat and moved his hand to me
crotch. He felt the outline of my cock and played with
the end through the denim. It had been hard for some
time. He stood close to me and I could smell all his
leather. It smelt good.

"At least you did not lie about your cock. It is a
good size. Maybe bigger than mine but mine is fatter.
I guess I won't be able to fuck you yet. You will
probably need loosening up a bit before you can take
it."

I wriggled to try to break his grip. I did not
succeed and he squeezed my balls harder and harder.
The pain showed on my face.

"Lesson 1. I do what I like and you do not resist. You
are my property now." He squeezed even harder. "What
are you?"

The pain was unbearable.

"I am your property Sir and I will not resist you." He
let go.

He took the beer bottle away from me and put it and
his on a shelf on the wall. He got a key out of his
pocket and undid the handcuff attached to the pipe. He
was standing in front of me and with my arm free I
tried to barge him out of the way. He must have
expected something like that as he was ready for me
and barely moved although I put all my weight behind
it. I doubled up as his fist hit my stomach. He pulled
me upright by my hair and turned me so that I faced
the wall. I was too winded to resist him fastening my
hands behind my back. He turned me back again to face
him.

"You did not remember lesson one very long. I cannot
punish you here as much as you deserve. But I have
whip at home with long black leather tails. You have
just earned four lashes, which I will give you tonight
or tomorrow morning. I guess by then you will have
earned a lot more lashes to add to the four."

I was now beginning to get very frightened. How long
was this going on? He got a short thick leather strap
out of the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Would you like to wear this collar boy? Your Master's
collar?"

My guts still hurt and I did not want another punch.
"Yes sir, I would like to wear my Master's collar."

He fastened it around my neck and pulled the buckle
tight. He fastened it with a padlock and put the key
in his pocket. He looked at me. It was clear what I
was supposed to do.

"Thank you sir for my collar. Sir?"

"Yes boy?"

"How long are you going to keep me like this? I have
to go home. I have to go to work."

"When I am happy that you have accepted your new
position in life you will be allowed to go home and to
go to work. And there are ways of controlling you
without me being always with you. But at the moment
you still are not accepting that I own you now."

He picked up a beer and took a drink. He swallowed it
and then took another. His head came towards me and he
pushed his lips against mine and squirted some beer
into my mouth. I swallowed it. It was already a little
warm. He let a few drips fall to the floor. Some
splashed onto his boots.

"Lick the beer off my boots boy."

I managed to get to my knees, which was difficult with
my hands fastened behind my back, and started to lick
the beer from his boots. His boots, like all his
leather, was shiny clean and they tasted a little of
polish. A number of other guys in the bar came over to
look at me licking his boots, but my Master (I had to
think of him as that as I did not know his name) said
something and they went away. While on the floor I had
an idea.

When I got up I said, "I need to piss Master."

He told me to follow him and we went into the toilet.
There were two other guys standing at the long trough.
Neither was pissing but each had their erect cocks out
and were examining each other's. He led me towards the
trough and stood behind me. He undid the belt of my
trousers and pulled my jeans and briefs to my knees.
He got hold of my cock and pointed it at the trough. I
pissed. When I had finished pissing, he stoked my cock
with his gloved hand until it became hard again. He
knew what he was doing, as his touches in those tight
leather gloves felt so good.

"You see if you are a good boy I can do nice things to
you."

He led me back into the bar and to our beers in the
corner. He did not seem embarrassed about the fact
that my jeans were still round my knees, but then it
was not his cock that everyone could look at. He
picked up one of the beers and poured the half bottle
that was left over my cock and balls. He then pulled
up and fastened my jeans. There was a big wet patch
around the crotch. He drained the other beer and took
me down to the dark room. He took me to the back where
it was very very dark. He pulled down my trousers and
started attacking  it is the only word I can use  my
cock and balls with his gloved hands. Even with my
hands fastened I tried to fight him off with my
shoulders.

"You really are not ready for this. You have so much
to learn. But I can wait" he said. With that he hit me
hard around the head and I blacked out.

When I came to my hands were free and the collar was
gone. My jeans were still around my knees. I decided
to do them up and get out of the bar as quickly as I
could before he came back. I moved my hands to pull my
jeans up and then I felt it. My cock was encased in a
metal tube that bent after about an inch and pointed
to my feet. In panic I explored it with my hands. It
was tightly fastened by what felt like a handcuff that
went round my balls. It could not get it off. I got up
and rushed out of the darkroom doing my jeans up as I
went. I looked around the bar for my Master. I had to
get this thing off. But I could not find him. I went
to the bar and described the man to the barman. He
told me he had left a few minutes ago but that he had
left a message for me. He gave me a piece of paper. I
took it to a brighter part of the bar and read it. It
said

"You are my property now. Log into the leather room as
`Chastised slave' and I will contact you when you are
ready to accept your new position."

I left the bar and went home. As soon as I got home I
logged in as instructed and waited. Nothing happened.
I took my clothes off and examined the device in my
crotch. It was fastened by a thick handcuff. Quite
clearly it would be difficult to get it off without
the key. I wondered if using a blowtorch on it would
free my crotch. But as I had that thought I realised
that it would not be such a good idea. The metal tube
was about 7 inches long and made of thick shiny steel.
I tried to push my finger up the end but there were
two metal bars criss crossed over the end that made it
impossible. And the really stupid thing was that
looking at it and feeling my cock inside it, made me
want to get a hard on. But the bent tube made that
impossible.

I needed to piss and wondered if I would be able to. I
went to sit on the toilet with the tube in the bowl. I
pissed long and hard. At least I could still do that.
I went back to the computer and waited for another
hour but there was no contact. I logged out and went
to bed. I hoped things would look better in the
morning.

When I woke up things did not look any better and I
was no nearer knowing what to do. Most mornings I
would wake up with an erection and usually I would
jack off in bed. My mind certainly had an erection as
usual, but the tube would not let my cock obey. And if
it had there was no way that I could jack off. My cock
just ached. I got up and showered. I trusted that the
steel would not rust. I then got dressed. I still had
no idea what to do. I stayed on line all day but while
some other `masters' tried to chat to me, my `Master'
did not. That evening I went back to `Chains'. I
waited for several hours but he did not show. I drank
quite a few beers, which unsurprisingly made me want
to piss. At first, I waited for the cubicle to become
free. But when I went for my third piss, the noise
from the two people in the cubicle made it clear that
I would have a long wait. And I needed to piss. So I
went to the trough and pointed my metal tube at it as
best I could. A guy dressed in leather came in and
stood next to me. I turned my head to find him looking
at me. He smiled and then looked down at my cock. The
smile vanished from his face, and he hurried to do up
his leather jeans and quickly left. I only wished that
I could have seen the funny side of the look on his
face.

When it seemed unlikely that my Master would come, I
went home and went to bed.

The next day  Sunday  I logged into the leather room
again. I left it logged in, although I could not stay
by it all day. I was walking past the door, when I saw
a private chat box pop up. I rushed to the pc. When I
got to it there was a message from `Master123'. It
simply said `Are you ready yet?' And then the person
disconnected from the private line. I clicked back
into the room, to see `Master123' disappear from the
list of people in the room.

I felt sick. I was trapped. And yet all that kept
crossing my mind was that I wanted to jerk off and
shoot and I could not.

Later that day, and for about the 20th time I looked
carefully down the list of people in the leather room.
`Owned - Collared, ringed, marked and restrained and
instructed by my Master to talk to other slaves' was
logged on. I quickly set up a private connection.

"Hi" I said. We chatted a couple of days ago. I was
`boots and leather'. Do you remember?"

"I do, but now you are `chastised slave'. Have you
found a master?"

I explained what had happened without saying that I
had only been playing a game.

"Then you must be very happy that you are now owned,"
he said.

"I am" I lied " but I do not know how to contact my
Master and I have to get this thing off." As he would
not understand my wishing not to obey my Master, I
added, "He did not know that I am flying abroad and
this thing will set off the metal detectors."

"I see," he said. "Describe your chastity device to
me."

I gave him as much detail as I could including the
maker's name.

"Yes, my Master has one of those for me for whenever
he takes me out. They all have intricate and
individual locks and are very difficult to cut off.
You could try the police or a hospital. You are very
lucky that your master values you so highly as to give
one of those. They are very expensive."

I did not reply for a minute or so. In despair, I then
just said goodbye and logged out. None of the options
facing me seemed very good. I did not see how I could
go to the Police or hospital and ask for help,
although eventually I might have to. What if my Master
never got back to me or he died? I decided to put off
making any decision for the time being. Perhaps he
would get back to me. He had once, if only briefly.
But what if he did contact me? What would that mean?

I tried to run my life as normally as possible. I went
to work, as the device did not show in my trousers.
But the urge to come got greater and greater. My
dreams at night became more and more erotic, but there
was nothing I could do about it. I logged on every
evening. From Monday to Thursday `Master123' privated
me and gave me a quick message. On Monday it just said
"Comfortable?" before he logged off. On Tuesday it was
"I hope you are keeping my boy clean." I was not sure
if he was referring to my cock or to me. But at least
he was keeping in touch. On Wednesday it said, "Do you
think you are ready to truly submit yet?" On Thursday
it said "Nearly a weeks worth of spunk in you."

On Friday he logged on again.

"Do you have a message for your Master?"

"Please stop torturing me. Let me go," I replied.

It was not the right thing to say. He logged off. I
stayed on line and about an hour later he logged on
again.

"Do you have a message for your Master?"

I tried to think what might make him stay online. "Yes
Master. I think I am ready."

"I don't," he responded. "But never mind, you are
moving in the right direction. I will see you
tomorrow. I will give you instructions at 6.00pm.
Before then you will get some proper clothes. When I
see you, you will be dressed completely in leather. I
want to be proud of my boy." He logged off.

I went and bought leather clothes the next day. I felt
rather embarrassed going to the shop, but the staff
seemed to think it was quite reasonable for someone to
buy a whole leather outfit. And after a while I began
to enjoy trying on the strong smelling leather gear. I
even liked the leather-covered reflection that looked
back at me from the mirror. The outfit cost a fortune
but the money was the least of my worries. I left the
outfit on and went for an early drink in `Chains'.
Just in case.

I logged on long before 6. At 6 o'clock promptly my
Master logged on. He made no effort to contact me, so
I privated him.

"Master?"

"Tell me what you have bought."

I described the tight leather jeans I had got. I had
to get tight ones, as they did not have a bigger size.
The tube showed in them and people would think I had a
massive cock that was always semi-hard. I described
the short sleeved leather shirt. I described the heavy
leather bike jacket. And I described the knee high
engineer boots with thick soles that I had got and was
wearing over my leather jeans.

"That is good. You will be in the side street behind
the Crown hotel at 8.00pm. You will face the wall.
When you hear a car draw up you will get in the car.
You will find a leather hood on the seat. Once you
have got in the car, you will put it over your head.
You will say nothing. If there seems to be anyone else
with you, you will not see or hear from me again." He
logged off.

He clearly did not trust me. Perhaps he thought I
might bring the Police or some friends or that I might
use his car number to trace him. But I was too scared
and embarrassed to tell anyone else and too desperate
to try anything clever.

At 8.00 I was dressed in my new leathers and was where
he had instructed me to be, facing the wall. I prayed
that no one else would come down the street. I heard a
car pull up behind me. I turned. The passenger door,
which was nearest to me, was open. I picked up the
hood from the seat, got in and shut the door. I
glanced at my Master to see that it was really him,
before pulling the hood over my head.

He drove off. We drove for maybe 40 minutes in
silence. When the car stopped I heard my Master get
out. I heard the passenger door open and he helped me
out. He led me into a building, which by the sound of
the door shutting was probably the front door of a
house. He led me further in and down some stairs,
towards what I guessed was the cellar. He removed the
hood. He unlocked a door at the bottom of the steps
and led me in. The door had a combination lock, so it
locked automatically when it was again closed. I stood
in the middle of the room. It was painted white and
was quite warm with concealed lighting. There were
some leather-covered benches and a table and some
chairs. There was a kitchen area with fridge cooker
and sink. And there was a door that I guessed led to
the bathroom and toilet. My heart sank when I realised
he could easily keep me prisoner here for as long as
he liked or until he believed I really was his slave.
What did he intend to do with me? Around the walls
were bars and rings whose purpose I could not be sure
of but doubted I would like.

He had made no attempt to handcuff me this time. I
guess he realised that I was not going to make a fight
of it. He had the key to my crotch and I did not know
where it was. He went and sat down in a chair land
looked at me.

"You will strip. Then you will secure that metal
collar on the wall around your neck with the padlock
and give me the key."

I stripped quickly and did as he said. The collar was
attached to a long thick chain secured to a metal ring
on the wall. My movement was to be limited. I could
see him looking at my metal covered cock and, once
again, I wanted to have an erection.

"We have some unfinished business from last week. What
was it I promised you?"

I thought hard until I noticed the whip on the floor
beside him, which reminded me. "You told me I must
have 4 lashes, Master."

"Do you think I should whip you?"

I was silent for a moment. There was only one answer
that would be acceptable. "Yes Master, I was wrong,
you must whip me."

"Good boy. You have a nice body. It is a pity that I
must mark it with the whip. But the marks will heal
quickly so long as you continue to be a good boy."

He slowly picked up the black leather whip with long
dangling strips of leather that he had told me of. It
looked vicious. He got up and pushed me towards a
metal frame at right angles to the sidewall. He
secured my hands and feet in bindings attached to the
frame. He stood in front of me showing me the whip
through the bars.

"Please understand that I do not enjoy doing this. I
cannot say that whipping you will hurt me as much as
it will hurt you. It won't. But I would rather not
have to do this. So please think about that before you
forget what you are again. I said 4 lashes, but as
that was your first offence and if you do not cry out
as I whip you, I will give you only two."

"Thank you Master, you are very kind." I said that
without really thinking and was amazed at myself for
thanking someone who was about to whip me.

He went behind me. I waited for what seemed an age for
the first lash. Even in my worst nightmare I could not
have been prepared for the pain as the lashes bit into
my skin. I gasped but did not cry out. I prayed that
he would not call the noise I made crying out. He
waited for the pain to die away and my breathing to
return nearer to normal before administering the
second lash. On top of the first lash, the second was
even more painful. But again I did not cry out,
although tears streamed down my cheeks. He came and
untied me and held me tightly in his arms with my head
in his shoulder. I was crying. The tenderness was very
comforting. But I could not understand why I should
find it comforting or why I should feel such
tenderness to the man who had inflicted such pain on
me. After a while he let me go and examined my back.

"It is bleeding a little but I can soon fix that."

He bathed the wounds in hot water containing a
disinfectant, and then applied an antiseptic cream.

"Let's eat. Whipping a boy always makes me hungry. You
will find some bread in the left-hand cupboard. Make
some sandwiches for me."

As he had expressly said `for me' I assumed that I was
not to eat. I made him a ham and a cheese sandwich
with things I found in the fridge. I put them on a
plate and put the plate on the table where he was
sitting. I did not sit myself until he ordered me to
do so. He ate a couple of the triangles of bread and
meat and then offered me a sandwich, which I accepted.
I was also feeling hungry. I was only offered one
sandwich. He finished the rest. He got up and took a
couple of steps. He turned.

"Lesson two. Do not remain sitting when I stand up."

I quickly got up. He went to a cupboard and came back
with a lump of black rubber that I recognised as a
butt plug. I had seen them in sex shops. This was a
big one. He told me to lean over the table with my
legs apart, which I did. He applied some grease to my
arse and pushed one, then two then three fingers up. I
had never been one for being screwed. I preferred to
screw the other guy. So my hole, while not completely
virgin, was tight. He moved his fingers around and
then removed them. I was sorry when he did, as it had
felt so good. He greased the plug and started to push
it up me arse. Then end was tapered and it only really
started to hurt when it was about 4 inches up. He kept
up a slow pressure, pushing it in deeper and deeper.
The pain got worse and I had to brace myself against
the table. My breathing got heavy. Then one more push
and my cheeks closed around the thin end of the plug
with only the base part outside my hole.

"You will keep this in for several hours. I will
remove it in the morning. It will help stretch you.
When I fuck you I want you to enjoy having your Master
inside you. Do you like being fucked?"

"No sir, not really."

"Never mind, I will teach you to like it."

He sat down again and told me to do the same. I sat
down carefully with the plug up my arse. I did not
like the sensation, but he had told me to sit. So I
sat. He looked at me and I looked at him. He was
dressed all in leather again. And I found the sight
making my cock try to stiffen in its metal tube. I
looked at his face and that made my cock hurt some
more. I wanted to come and whatever this man had done
to me, it was him that I wanted to make me come.

"I am just wondering what I am going to do with you,"
he said. "The hair will have to come off. But that can
wait until the morning. Would you like me to shave
your head?"

It was another question to which only a lie would be
acceptable. "You are my Master. If you want it, I want
it."

"Good boy. I would like to give you a permanent
collar, but I suppose that would be difficult with
your work. I will give you a ring through your nose.
You can have a small stud to keep the hole open for
when you are at work. Yes, I like my boys well
pierced. I shall enjoy doing that. Is that what you
want too?"

I looked at the floor. "Yes, Master, I do want that.
But please Master." I let the sentence trail off.

"Yes boy?"

"Please don't tattoo me. I would hate being tattooed."
I was thinking of `Owned' who I had chatted to.

"But if I decide that that is what I want, you will
want it too, won't you?"

I did not answer.

"Tonight you will sleep here. Tomorrow I will fuck you
if you want. I think you might want me to as before I
fuck you I will take your chastity device off so that
you can come as well. You would like that wouldn't you
boy?"

"Yes Master, I would like that." And I knew I would. I
desperately needed to shoot and I wanted to do it with
him.

He got up and left the room making sure the door was
locked behind him. The last was unnecessary, as the
chain attached to my collar was too short for me to
reach the door. I looked around. There was no bed and
no bedclothes. Suddenly the lights went out and the
room was plunged into darkness. There was little I
could do but curl up on the cold hard floor. I got my
leather jacket and put it over me to try to provide
some comfort. The tension of the day must have made me
tired as I went quickly to sleep. My dreams that night
were even more erotic than they had been during the
previous few days, except that this time my Master was
always there doing painful and pleasurable things to
me. And in my dreams I liked them both in equal
measure.

I awoke to find the lights on and my Master entering
the room. He was wearing leather again except that his
leather jeans had been replaced by chaps. He had a
studded leather pouch covering his cock and balls.

"What do you want me to do boy?"

"Fuck me please sir. I want you to fuck me."

"If that is what you really want. Come here."

I got up and went to him. He took a key from his
pocket and undid the handcuff from around my balls. He
removed the device, and as if that were a signal, my
cock sprang to a raging erection. I wanted desperately
to play with it, but I knew I must not.

"You have missed playing with your little friend. Turn
round and bend over."

I still had the plug in my arse. He pulled it out in
one quick motion, which hurt a great deal. My arse
felt quite sore and would no doubt be worse when he
fucked me. But even knowing that, I really wanted him
inside me. He told me to lie across the thin wooden
bench in the room. I obeyed and under the bench he
manacled my hands and feet together. He stood in front
of me and removed the leather pouch. His cock also
sprang to attention. He came behind me and slowly
entered me. It hurt but it also felt warm and good. I
could feel his leather on my body and hear his breath
in my ear as he pumped into me. It was not long before
the waves of pleasure came over me and I shot my load
as I had never done before. It was the most intense
orgasm I could remember. By far. He kept pumping away
until he too went rigid and came up my arse.

After a while he removed his cock from my arse and
then he removed the manacles. When I stood up, he also
undid the collar around my neck. I rubbed my neck
feeling quite naked without it. He pointed me to other
room and told me to shower. I took a long hot shower.
I dried myself and came back into the room. He was
sitting at the table drinking coffee. He had prepared
some breakfast of bread and meat. From the two plates
on the table I was to be allowed to eat. He told me to
dress and I put on my discarded leather clothes. I
went and stood by him, and he told me to sit down. He
looked into my eyes.

"Did you go abroad as you said?"

I was puzzled for a moment and then I remembered. "The
slave was you?"

"Yes. I find that playing a slave is an excellent way
to get ideas of what my slaves really want of their
master. And a master and a slave are in many ways the
same thing. Most times though I chat as myself. I am
not a jerk like you that is a different person
depending on where you are or who you are talking to.
I have seen different photos of you in so many rooms
all with different names and profiles of what you are
after. I look around the rooms because you can find a
good slave in many different areas. And on so many
occasions I have found you there. But I thought that
it was your business, even if I knew you were being an
arsehole. But when you chose to chat me and told me
what I knew to be lies, I thought I would teach you a
lesson. I somehow don't think you will be such an
arsehole again."

He looked at me for some time waiting for me to speak.
I said nothing.

"You are free to go now. You are not far from where I
picked you up last night."

I just stood there looking at him. " Master, I do not
want to go," I replied. "Can I not stay here with you.
I want to be your slave and I have so much to learn if
I am to be a good slave for you. Please let me stay."
As I said the words, I knew I meant every one whatever
it might mean for me in the future.

He looked at me for some time. "I will think about it.
I will meet you in `Chains' next Friday evening around
8."

I picked up the metal chastity device that he had put
on the table. I gave it to him and undid my leather
jeans and pulled them down. He looked questioningly
into my eyes and then took my cock and pushed it down
the tube before securing the cuff tightly around my
balls. He locked it and put the key in his pocket.