Leather Bar

NONE ENTERED BY AUTHOR

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	I walked into the leather bar nervously.  It was still early 
on a Thursday night, and not too many people were there yet.  The 
bouncers eyed me suspiciously as I wasn't wearing any leather items, 
but they let me in anyway.  Inside it was pretty dark except for the 
lights from the dance floor.  I headed up to the bar.
	The bartender was a pretty big guy, nice muscles, wearing 
leather pants and a vest.  I noted that he didn't have the famous 
leather guy moustache (or any facial hair, for that matter), but 
otherwise he looked the part.  I got a drink and sat there for 
awhile.
	After half an hour or so we struck up a conversation.  He 
asked why I decided to come here, since it seemed pretty clear I was 
a newbie.  "I want to be somebody's slave, sir." I told him.  "I 
need to be controlled."
	"Don't call me sir - that's my master.  You call me boy or 
bartender."
	"Oh.  Sorry."
	Well, you came to the right place anyway.  So what brought 
this on?"
	"It's been growing for awhile, but I got fired from my job 
today and that just settled it.  I want to be owned."
	"How serious are you?" he asked me.  
	I answered, "Very," hoping that maybe he could help me out.
	"We need a bouncer and you look pretty big.  Everybody that 
works here is a slave of the owner, including me.  He might be 
willing to take on another.  You have to realize that if you do this 
then he gets full rights to your body - he can do anything he wants 
to to you."
	"If he takes me then it's his body anyway; I have no right 
to complain."
	The barkeep seemed pleased with that response.  He pointed 
to a door in the back of the place.  "Knock twice on that door.  Say 
boy sent you back for an interview when he answers."
	"Thanks."

	I headed past the two biker guys playing pool and knocked on 
the door, exactly twice.  After a few seconds it opened to reveal a 
shirtless man with long dark hair and a goatee.  His torso was 
covered in tribal tattoos that accentuated his impressive build.  
His chest was bereft of hair.  "Yes?"
	"Boy sent me back for an interview?  Sir?"
	"Did he.  Come in."  He opened the door wide enough for me 
to walk through.  I followed him down a short hallway and into a 
good sized office, uninteresting but for the framed pictures of nude 
men being tortured and the lifesize (and very lifelike, except for 
the shiny sheen) statue of a young man in leather gear in the 
corner.  He sat down; I remained standing.  "Get naked," he ordered.
	"Yes sir," I answered, and started to remove my shoes. 
	"Do not speak unless ordered to."  His voice was firm, not 
angry.  I peeled off my socks and shirt, undid my pants and let them 
drop to my ankles.  "Turn around slowly."  I did so.  He made some 
approving noises.  "You are aware that if accepted for this position 
then you will cease to have identity.  You will belong entirely to 
me.  Answer."
	"Yes, sir."
	"Furthermore you desire this.  Answer."
	"Yes, sir."
	"Read this and sign it.  Once you do you will belong to me. 
 If you are having second thoughts, leave now.  This contract is 
legal and binding.  In the corner you see what happened to the only 
boy who has tried to break it.  I had him stuffed and mounted."
	That only strengthened my resolve.  He really did own this 
boy, or his skin at least.  That this guy had the cajones to follow 
through told me that he was what I was looking for, and seeing what 
had happened to that boy only made me want this more.  I signed with 
enthusiasm.
	He took the contract and put it into a filing cabinet behind 
him.  "These are the rules.  You will obey me in all things.  Speak 
only when spoken to by a master or when required by your job at the 
club.  You may also speak in case of emergencies but any abuse of 
said rule will result in grave punishment.  If a slave speaks to you 
then answer him in the manner his master has instructed you to.  You 
may speak to other slaves owned by me when needed by your job but 
are otherwise to remain silent.  You will start working here 
tomorrow evening.  You will have tomorrow during the day to set your 
affairs in order; these rules will be suspended fromt he time you 
leave here tonight until you return.  You are to sell or donate all 
but one set of clothing, which will be destroyed when you arrive 
here tomorrow.  I will modify you as I see fit.  You will not 
complain.  You will not go outside unless ordered to or it is 
required by your job.  You will be referred to as 'boy,' and will 
always refer to yourself in the third person.  I will be 'master' or 
'sir.'  Does boy understand?"
	"Yes, sir."
	"Put your clothing back on and come back tomorrow at eight. 
 Come directly back to the office.  You are not to touch yourself 
until then.  Be sure you have eaten dinner before 5.  Convert all 
you can into cash and bring it with you.  If you own a car bring 
that as well as all legal forms for it."
	
	The next 24 hours were a blur.  I went straight home and 
packed as much as I could that night, then passed out.  The next day 
I got up around seven and by eight had the car packed up with my 
clothing and salable items.  Goodwill, United Way, and some smaller 
retail outlets eventually took everything.  I threw all the food I 
had away except for enough for lunch and dinner that evening.  Books 
all went to a used bookstore.  My older furniture I just threw away, 
but some of the nicer stuff I put out on the curb with a sign saying 
"Free to good home," and if nobody took it then the garbagemen 
would.  By three o'clock my apartment was desolate, containing only 
the refrigerator and stove it had originally had in it, a trashcan 
with the remains of lunch, an envelope with several thousand dollars 
in it, and a TV dinner - my last meal of sorts.  At 4:30 I wasn't 
really hungry but had been ordered to eat before 5 so did.  I took 
my last shower.  My trashcan went out on the curb and my keys into 
my landlord's mailbox, along with a letter explaining that I had to 
leave town permanently.
	I now had three hours to kill and really had nothing to do. 
 I ended up cleaning out my car and heading to a car wash.  After an 
hour it was immaculately clean.  I still had an hour and a half to 
kill and spent it watching the first half of a movie.  I left 
halfway through to be sure and make it on time.
	I arrived at the club and the bartender told me where to 
park my car - he had been waiting outside for me.  I pulled around 
behind the place and left my car there.  I headed inside with the 
packet of cash and went directly back to the office.
	The master was there already.  "Give me the cash and strip." 
 While I got naked, he counted the money.  "There is a shower down 
the hall.  Use it.  Do not dry off when done but call for me."
	I walked out into the hallway, nude and nervously excited.  
I showered again, and when done called out "Master!"
	He came after a few minutes with a package of medical things 
and subjected me to an enema, something I had never had before.  It 
felt uncomfortable but wasn't painful or anything.  When he was done 
he ordered me to dry off and meet him by the bar.  I was not to wear 
anything.
	At first I was nervous about doing such a thing - nudity in 
public and all - but quickly got over it.  I - boy - belonged to 
him, boy had no right to bitch.  So I dried off and strode 
confidently out to the bar.  I then realized my fears had been 
unfounded anyway; the place didn't open until 9 on Fridays and 
Saturdays.  Master was out there with another man I didn't know.  
This guy was older and dressed more normally.
	"Here he is, Joe," Master said to the man.
	"My, he is a big one.  Looks like you got a good catch this 
time."
	"We'll know once he's trained.  Boy, take these scissors and 
destroy the clothing you wore in here, including the shoes."  He had 
my - his - clothes in a box on the bar.  He continued giving 
instructions to the other man while I did so.
	"Gotcha."  Master left the room.  The man turned to me and 
ordered me to put my arms in the air.  He pulled out a little 
notebook and measuring tape and started taking measurements, 
presumably for clothing.  That took him until almost nine, and by 
the time he had done, Master was already back out waiting for me.
	What happened next was the first really weird thing yet.  
Master had a cross lowered from the ceiling and I was tied to it, 
then hoisted into the air, parallel to the ground, my dick hanging 
straight down and my limbs spread out.  Moments after I was raised 
up the club opened and the first few guys started coming in.
	From my unique perspective I could watch all the action - 
dancing and such.  My cock got hard a few times but I could do 
nothing with it, so just hung there dripping precum onto the floor 
below.  Around ten the music quieted down and a spotlight was shined 
directly onto me.  Master came out and introduced me as his new 
slave.  "And tonight, we're auctioning off to a lucky man the 
opportunity to shave him bald.  I'll start the bidding at ten 
bucks."
	Men bid like crazy for me.  The bidding made it up around 
ninety dollars when some guy finally won.  "Stay tuned throughout 
the evening for other opportunities to help break this boy in," 
Master announced.  I was lowered to the floor where I was fondled by 
every guy who could reach, and was led back to the shower room by 
Master, auction winner in tow.  The guy paid Master off in cash 
while boy waited in the shower room.  The guy came in soon and got 
naked, the lust in his eyes readily apparent.
	He was good at it, though he never missed an opportunity to 
cop a feel.  When he was done I was shorn from head to toe, my head 
shaven as bald as the rest of me.  I still had eyebrows but that was 
it - the guy had even gone into my asscrack.  He finally had me bent 
over and I heard the distinctive sound of a rubber being opened.  I 
didn't move but waited for it to enter me.
	He plugged away at me until Master came in.  Immediately he 
was furious, not with me but with the leather guy.  Master pulled 
him off of me and threw him against the wall.  "You were not given 
rights to him, just to his skin!"  The other guy tried speaking but 
got slapped in the mouth for his efforts.  He tried to fight back 
and Master just got furious.  He picked the guy up bodily and 
carried him out of the room.  A few minutes later he returned and 
had me wash up.  "He was not given permission to fuck boy.  I pulled 
him off just as he was cumming.  No one is to fuck boy without my 
permission.
	"Now come back out to the bar."  I followed him meekly back 
out, wondering if boy would be punished for this.  I didn't think 
so; he didn't seem mad at me.  I wondered what he had done to that 
other guy.
	Back out in the bar the men cheered for me when we emerged. 
 Master directed me to stand atop a stage in the center of the room. 
 I made my way over there, being fondled and grabbed the entire way. 
 Once there, I stood atop the table and tried to remain stalwart as 
my balls and dick were grabbed and pulled by horny guys.
	Master came over to me carrying a black leather bag, stood 
beside me on the table, and called for quiet.  "It appears I've come 
into a dick that needs removing.  It goes to the highest bidder.  
Bidding starts at $100!"  Master worked the auction while I stood 
beside him, my resolve weakening.  He was going to cut off my dick? 
 I hadn't expected this...but I had wanted to be a slave 
permanently, and it wasn't my dick, right?  I had no right to 
complain; I had signed it over freely.  Reluctantly, I figured that 
he could even kill me if he wanted to.  I just hoped he wouldn't 
want to.
	At $935 the bidding stopped.  My  - his - cock had been sold 
for nearly a thousand!  Master strapped me onto another cross, legs 
spread, arms out.  My balls hung down low and my cock was as hard as 
it had ever been.  I tried to put myself in the right frame of mind. 
 "How kind of him to remove it," I thought to myself.  I wondered if 
he'd take the balls too.
	The guy that had won the bidding came up on stage with 
Master.  Master put a catheter up the soon-to-be-removed cock.  He 
brought his lips near an ear and whispered, "Do not make a sound as 
it comes off."
	With that, he stuck the scalpel into my cock, thrusting it 
down.  I whimpered, but kept from screaming out in pain as he drew 
it around the catheter.  I grimaced but made no further sound as he 
handed the scalpel to the auction winner to complete the cut.  That 
guy brought it through the last little bit of flesh, blood pouring 
out, and drew the cock off boy's groin along the catheter, and off. 
 Master handed boy a towel to hold against his crotch while the 
winner held the severed cock above his head.  A great cheer went out 
from the crowd.
	Boy got very woozy.  Master led him back to the back room 
somewhere and had him lay down while Master worked on it.  The next 
week was a blur.  Mostly it stayed tied down while it healed.  
Master fucked it every once in a while, but not too much lest it 
pull out a stitch.  The catheter now protruded from inbetween its 
legs through a new pisshole.
	Boy was not alone in this room, however.  On a nearby table, 
drugged out of his mind, lay the man who had tried to fuck boy.  Boy 
barely recognized him, as he had also been shaven totally bald all 
over.  With mild interest boy noticed that the man no longer was; as 
his balls were gone and his cock, well, 'trimmed' down to a stub.
	He recovered before boy did and boy was taught to refer to 
him as a fellow it, but with even lower status than boy had, and was 
to be called 'slut.'  Boy's training commenced as soon as I was able 
to stand, and boy was receptive to it.  It's previous identity was 
nearly gone now, helped by the removal of the cock, and boy was 
happy.  Master had him lift weights six days a week to maintain his 
size and boy ended up working the door at the club.  Boy enjoyed the 
contrast of having all the power at the door but having none when 
not working.
	The other three boys were kind to him as well.  None had a 
cock still attached to them, and Master had removed the balls of one 
as a gift some years ago.  Boy was a bit jealous of that one but 
dared not ask to have its balls removed.
	Meanwhile, slut was being trained as well.  Master was very 
harsh on slut as it was very rebellious, threatening lawsuits and 
trying to escape.  After it had healed, Master refused it protein in 
its food and proceeded to do the real brainwashing.  After a few 
months, slut seemed a happy slave, its previous identity stripped 
away and the new one inserted.
	As for boy, his new identity set firmly in place as well, so 
you see you have nothing to fear from all this.  If you're still 
interested, go to the back past the pool tables and knock on the 
door twice...