Date: Tue, 07 Feb 2006 01:45:01 -0500
From: J
Subject: Letter from a Slave 2

Please don't read this if you're not allowed.

Some time ago, the state of my erect penis passed into something I'd never
experienced.  Before I was enslaved to my master, I felt like I had control.
  When I had a need, I just rubbed one out and sprayed my cum all over the
hot shower.  When Sir took over, though, I was forced to obey his desires,
and that meant no more touching my cock, no matter how desperate I was to
spew jizz.  If you remember from my previous installment, he told me I had
to keep on shaving my chest and balls until I had been hard for a total of
50 hours.  But during that time, among many other rules, I couldn't touch
myself at all.  Somewhere in there, that's when I let the lust take over.
Rather, it took over my brain.  I started obeying my master more readily,
more easily, knowing that only he had the key to my release.

Occasionally, Sir gave me some small concession, like five slow strokes or
some pillow-humping or something.  Of course, I was so delirious for orgasm
that I agreed to do whatever he wanted in return.

"What will you do for me?" he'd write.

"Anything," I'd say breathlessly, with clothespins clipped to my throbbing
nipples, my stomach, and my inner thighs.

"Tell me."

And I'd have to come up with my own devilish punishments.  "I'll shave my
legs," I offered one night.

"Okay, do it," came the reply.  I knew that in any other situation, I
wouldn't have done it.  Already, my chest and pubes were bare, but legs made
everything more real.  Then, the only hair left on me would be on my arms
and my head.  I knew it was only a matter of time before that was gone, too.

Another time, I told him I'd take a naked picture of myself and send it to
him.  He said that wasn't good enough.  I said, without thinking, "I'll do
it outside."

Of course, he agreed to that.  "Put the camera on auto and set it on your
porch, go out to the curb buck-ass naked, turn and face the camera, kneel
down, hard, and wait."

It was the middle of the night, but still.  There's some traffic on my
street, even at that hour.  It was dangerous.  "How much do you want to
cum?" my master wrote.  At that point, I wanted to cum badly enough to
follow his instructions.  I ran outside, my stiff slave rod bouncing up and
down in the crisp night air, my heavy, aching balls hanging low and slapping
against my shaved legs.  I kneeled down on the pavement and couldn't help
but smile at my submissiveness.  It felt so good to obey my master.

Of course, the outdoor naked pictures continued, much to my anxiety.  Sir
wanted a picture of me lying in the front yard, taking my dildo in the ass.
Then another one with a string wrapped around my balls with the other end
attached to the fence that kept the neighbor's dog out.

I was becoming blind to everything but my cock and my master's wishes.
Every day when I was done with work, I'd rush home, strip at the door as
instructed, and get online to see if Sir had sent me any new instructions.
He had me wrapped around his gigantic, slave-inducing cock.  You might think
I was doing it voluntarily, but by now, I had no choice in the matter.

"Tonight, you're to spend fifteen minutes outside, masturbating," he wrote
finally.  I wasn't at fifty hours yet, but getting closer to it.  Still, I
wasn't sure I could jerk off for fifteen minutes without erupting.

"Well, you better make it," he wrote back.  "Now, go do it.  And get a good
picture of you wanking."

I stepped outside, walked around to the side of my house, and stared down at
my cock.  It had been harder lately than I ever remembered it being, even
when I was a young teenager.  Now, it was bound by a cock ring and a ball
separater, both of which conspired to make my genitals jut out obscenely in
everything I wore.  I took my right hand and grazed the shaft, and I knew
instantly that there was no stopping the forthcoming explosion.  My cum shot
from my cock like a sneeze.  Rope after rope like I was lassoing a bull.  I
couldn't help it.  It all lasted nearly a minute.

But it didn't feel satisfying because I had disobeyed my master.  I sulked
back inside and told him what happened.  "I guess you'll have to be
punished," was all he said.  And then he waited.  For me.  To respond.  I
knew what I had to do.

"As punishment, sir, I will keep my entire body from the neck down shaved
for the next month."

"And?"

"And I will buy any three items of your choice at the sex shop, sir."

"And?"

"And I will buy some Viagra online so you can make me impossibly hard
anytime you want, sir."

"And?"

"And I'll cut up and throw out every single piece of underwear I own, sir?"

"And?"

"And I will obey every order you give me for the next year, sir."

"Doesn't count.  That's like wishing for more wishes.  And?"

And?!  I was offering him everything I could think of.  "And I'll find
someone here to have sex with?"

"And take pictures of your ass getting plowed by a real man's cock, boy.
Then we'll be even for your having cum too soon."

My heart sank.  He was going to make me out myself as a shaved,
completely-submissive boy slave to some stranger.

"What if I just come to you instead, sir?"

"Nope.  You'll have to earn that, boy, and you've got a long way to go
before that happens.  Now, at the sex shop, I want you to buy a collar, a
vibrator, and the hardest-core porn you can find.  Think you can manage
that?"

"Yes, sir."  Despite having just cum and being told to do lots of things
that I didn't think I really wanted to do, I obeyed without question or
delay.  My master was changing me, and I couldn't stop it.