Date: Tue, 25 May 1999 10:52:20 -0700
From: slave@england.com
Subject: Diary of a Slave - The Beginning

Diary of a Slave

My master commands me to reveal to the world the depths of my humiliation.
At first he allows me to tell you only my first name: Brian but if I
misbehave or in any way fail to satisfy him then he might make me reveal my
full name and address so that my humiliation will be total.  These pages
will appear as and when he thinks fit.

The Beginning

I had had sex with many guys but somehow it never satisfied me.  I always
wanted them to use me for their pleasure but never really wanted to cum
myself.  The best sex I had was with a guy who would kneel over me, pinning
my shoulders to the ground and face fuck me for hours and then shoot all
over my face.  Once done he would scoop his cum off my face and order me to
lick it form his fingers.  He would then sit naked in a chair and make me
toss myself off over his feet. All the time he would call me names -
"filthy little cocksucker", "pervert" and so on.  Pretty soon I would cum
and the he would make me lick it all off his feet.  Sometimes he would give
me a beer - in a dog bowl.  These episodes were always over far too soon
for me and I fantasised about what else could happen.  He eventually moved
away and I never found anyone else who would do anything like this.

You can imagine how excited I became when I found a magazine full of stories
of slavery and humiliation, pictures of men in chains and being totally
subjugated by other men.  Sometimes one man tied to a rack and several
other men working on him - group sex had never occurred to me!  At the back
of the magazine were advertisements: masters looking for slaves and slaves
looking for masters.  This one magazine gave me hours of wanking material.
At first it was the pictures and then the stories and eventually the
adverts.  I began to dream of being a slave and being totally humiliated by
another man or men.  Being naked and ordered to wank in front of a whole
roomful of men who would jeer and make fun of me. (My master insists that
I tell you that with my puny cock its easy to make fun of me when naked.).
Eventually I plucked up courage to place an advert:

"Novice slave seeks master who will teach him how to obey."

Just writing it gave me a hard-on and I rushed to the post everyday to see
if there were any replies.  The days became weeks and I began to feel that
I was going to get no replies and then one day there was a single envelope.
I opened it and read the single sentence with shaking hands:

"Slave - ring your new master - 0171 XXX XXXX."

As much as I was excited I was afraid and I sat clutching the letter until
10 o'clock at night and then I knew that I had to phone.  I dialled the
number and waited.  After what seemed an age a man answered.  What should I
say!  I stammered and spluttered.  At last I managed the words:

"I had a note from you this morning.  To ring you.  I want to be er I want
to be a um slave."

"Well", the reply came, "if you received the note this morning and are only
just replying that is not very obedient for a slave, is it?"

"No, I suppose it isn't." I giggled nervously.

"No, what?", was snapped back at me.

I instantly knew what was required and I knew I wanted it too.

"Sir, No, Sir!"

"That's better.  Now are you wearing clothes?"

"Sir, Yes, Sir!"

"Well you shouldn't be.  If you are to be my slave you are to be naked
whenever possible and sometimes when it is not possible. Strip now and
bring a saucer to the phone."

I through my clothes off and run to the kitchen for a saucer and brought it
to the phone.  My cock was harder than I could ever remember and I felt
wonderful.

"Sir, I'm naked, Sir, and I have a saucer."

"Right, you will open your curtains, place the saucer on the windowsill and
with one hand pinch a nipple really hard and with the other hand toss
yourself off onto the saucer.  This you will do in one minute or you will
never hear from me again as you will have failed your first test of
obedience.  You will then bring the saucer back to the phone."

"But Sir, people might see me. I could be arrested!"

"The minute is ticking away."

Now I should explain that I am a school teacher and that any sex scandal
would end my career and be plastered over the local newspapers.  A fact
that my master was to use heavily in the future.  But I did not want to
loose this opportunity.  I knew that this was what I had been looking for
four years.  I ran to the window, pulled the curtains and prayed for the
first time in years that there would be no one passing by.  I squeezed a
nipple and grabbed my cock and started beating it furiously and in just a
few strokes I shot a huge load onto the saucer.  I ran back to the phone
still not knowing if anyone had seen me.

"I've done what you commanded, Sir."

"Good, now clean your filthy cum from the saucer with your dirty little
cocklicking tongue."

I willingly obeyed.  My tongue hungrily seeking every drop of cum on the
saucer.

"It's clean, Sir!"

"Excellent!  You may just make a slave - with lots of training.  You will
meet me tomorrow night at seven at Piccadilly underground station.  You
will wear tight blue running shorts and a white T-shirt.  Nothing on your
feet. You will not touch your cock before then.  You will never touch it
again."

The phone went down.  How could I do this?  How could I get to Piccadilly
dressed as he said?  People would stare at me.  Everyone would know I was a
pervert.  My cock was rock hard again and my hand went towards it and
stopped.  I knew that touching it was more than I dare do and it became
even harder.

I decided to have a shower and washed from head to toe apart from cock.
How could I wash it without touching it?  It was still very hard and even
though I am uncut I could wash most of it with the shower head.  I wondered
if I could use a sponge - I would have to check tomorrow.  I realised that
I was very quickly being drawn in to a new life.  It seemed so natural.  I
made myself a drink - still naked - and went to bed.  I couldn't sleep.  My
cock was still rock hard as it had been for hours now.  I began to wonder
if I was crazy letting a strange man who I had never met have such an
effect on me and I was planning to go with him tomorrow. To where?  What
would he do? He might be a murderer.  Little did I fully realise that he
would transform my life in the most amazing way and that I would be happier
than I had ever been before. (My master is touched by this and says he may
even toss me off later if I continue to behave).

The next day I went to work as usual but could hardly concentrate on
teaching the little brats.  At 3 o'clock I rushed off into town and bought
some blue shorts.  I normally wear 32" so I bought those but also a 30"
pair as well.  After all he said they should be tight.

I went home and took off my suit.  I started to pull my jeans on but then
remembered I was supposed to be naked whenever possible (what did he mean
sometimes even when it wasn't possible?).  I cooked some tea and looked at
the television news.  I quite enjoyed being naked at any time but it was
wonderful knowing that I was naked because another man demanded it.  I
squeezed a nipple and remembered the previous night.  I felt my whole body
blush as I wondered if anyone had seen me tossing myself off so
enthusiastically in the window.

My mind then turned to the problem of getting to Piccadilly.  It had been
troubling me all day.  I couldn't travel on the Underground in just the
shorts and T-shirt.  Eventually I hit on the idea of putting a track suit
over the top and then leaving it in left luggage at Piccadilly station - if
they had a left luggage office.

It came close to six and I put on the 32" waist shorts.  Normally they
would have been fine but they certainly weren't tight.  I tried the others.
They were tight but were they tight enough?  At least I would not get too
many stange looks in them.  I pulled on a white T-shirt.  Perhaps I would
pass as a jogger.  But in an Underground station?  I pulled on a tracksuit
and trainers and ran to the local station.  Pretty soon I was at Piccadilly
and the track suit had not attracted attention. Why should it?  I went to
the Gents and in a cubicle took off the track suit and trainers and put
them in a bag.  Blind panic suddenly took over as I thought of walking out
of the toilet.  For a moment I thought of going home.  Somehow I couldn't.
I knew I had to go on.  I opened the door and tried to just stroll out as
confidently as I could.  I don't know if anyone was looking at me because I
certainly wasn't looking at them.  I tried to find a left luggage office
but couldn't.  Time was getting on.  All I could do was to abandon my bag
in a bin and walk away.  Somehow now I felt even more ridiculous - without
even something in a bag to put on if I needed.  I wandered round the
station and noticed that I was getting some odd looks.  Perhaps the shorts
were tighter than I thought.  I decided to stand still and lent against a
wall. It was nearly seven.  I waited for a couple of minutes and an elderly
man came up to me and asked if I had the time.  Was it him? I looked at my
wrist but realised that I was not wearing a watch.  He started chatting and
then suddenly asked if I would like to go somewhere - he could pay me well.
I realised that he thought I was a rent boy and told him to piss off.  So
that is what I looked like - a male prostitute.  It was ten past seven.
Was he coming?  A policemen sauntered by carefully watching me.  I decided
to make the first approach and asked him the time - even though I could see
a clock in the ticket office.  As he stared to speak a young businessman
rushed up:

"I'm sorry.  I got held up.  I knew it was a mistake meeting you here after
your jog.  Mother will be really worried where we have got to.  Come on we
better hurry."

His voice was familiar and I ran after him.  But he was only about 23 and I
am 40.  I somehow expected him to be older than me. We left the station and
went through Leicester Square towards Charring Cross Road.  He stopped and
snapped at me:

"Just follow me.  Don't catch me up. Don't talk to me.  If I go in a shop
or a bar you wait outside opposite the door with your hands behind you."

He went on and I trailed behind watching where my naked feet trod and
keeping behind him.  I felt rather like a puppy.  He went in an open
fronted bar and started chatting to some other guys.  I knew it was a gay
bar although I had never been in there.  The other guys looked out at me
and they all started laughing.  I felt awful and yet it excited me.  This
was not lost on them because they began pointing at the site of my cock
straining at the shorts. I wanted to cover my erection but I had been told
to keep my hands behind my back.  I felt my face redden and they laughed
more.  My master came out and I followed him down a side road full of bars
and shops.  He walked down a narrow turning and put a key in a door.  I
followed as he beckoned me inside. Even if he was a murderer I didn't seem
to mind anymore.  I think I was already his.  (My master pats me on the
head and strokes my cock).  It was a communal staircase to flats above.  He
turned:

"Strip!"

I quickly pulled the T-shirt off and dropped the shorts.  I held them in my
hand but he took them from me and stuck them through one of a row of letter
boxes and walked up the stairs.  I started to follow but he snapped:

"Wait till I call you, slave!"

I heard a door open and close above and panic set in again.  This was a
semi-public place.  Anyone could come by going to or from the flats.  The
door behind me opened and two men came in.  they were obviously gay and
heavily into leather.  They saw me and I cringed.

"Oh, I see Paul's got someone new."

He reached out towards my throbbing cock and I backed away.

"Let them", a voice from the landing.

I stood still and closed my eyes as the two men came towards me and one of
them stroked my cock.  The other gave both my nipples the severest twist
they had ever had.  I felt my head begin to spin and that so familiar
feeling well up inside me and my cock erupted over the hand that was
stroking it.

"He's going to be in trouble for that!" said the one that had so far not
spoken.  The cum covered hand was lifted to my lips with the single word:

"Lick"

And I did.  Every drop of my cum soon licked clean off that unknown hand.
They laughed and went up the stairs.  My master, who I now knew was Paul,
although I was never to call him that, called me and I went hurriedly up
and stood before him:

"Even though you have no training you will be punished for that!  You cum
only when I say and never for your own pleasure."

"I'm sorry, Sir, I just couldn't help it. It was all too..."

The back of his hand slapped hard across my face:

"Don't you ever answer me back. You are just here to please me and to do my
bidding.  Any disobedience will be punished. Now come inside."

I followed him still reeling and uncertain from the slap.

We went into a large living area that was expensively furnished.  He opened
a draw and took out some short ropes.  He pulled me to the window and tied
my arms above my head - one each side of the window.  As he reached down
and tied my feet in a similar position below the window my naked body
looked out across the rooftops and windows of Soho.  I understood that he
enjoyed exhibiting me to the world.  He said nothing but disappeared into
another part of the flat. My cock pressed against the glass and some
remaining cum trickled down the window.  He returned and I could see his
reflection in the window.  He was wearing just a leather jock strap.  He
sat in a chair and I could no longer see him.

"So you want to be a slave?"

"Sir, Yes, Sir"

Well you have had a very tiny insight into what life as a slave might be
like.  If you are to be my slave then your body is mine.  For my pleasure
and to what ever I like with.  I can use it as I want or I can let others
use it.  You have no choice.  You will spend tonight here.  At any time you
can go - never to return.  Oh, don't worry I'll find you some clothes to
put on - I wouldn't want you to run through the streets of London naked -
at least not tonight.  At the end of the night you will sign my slave
contract and you can never change your mind after that.  Do you
understand?"

"Sir, Yes, Sir"

He stood up and came towards me.  His hands reached round and he twisted my
nipples. He just held them like it for several minutes.

"Good, you don't cry out.  I like that."

I felt proud I was pleasing him.

His hand slid across my chest and down to my cock.  He fondled it and his
hand went down to my balls.  He rolled them about and then shifted his
attention back to my cock.  His fingers brushed the cum on the window:

"But you've made my window dirty.  You must clean it"

He untied me and I instantly fell to my knees and started licking my cum
from the window.  By this time he was back in his chair and he motioned me
over to him.  I knelt before him and he stroked my face before pullig it
down to his jock."


My master tells me this is enough for now and that I will write more if
anyone is interested in my pathetic little life.

Slave Brian