A guy´s secret dream of becoming a total slave is fulfilled
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The moment I entered my usual hangout that evening I wanted to get out of there, Not that I did not like the crowd. Most of my friends were there, the usual friendly chats were interrupted only by the usual gulps of pale beer. Only problem was I was horny rather than sociable, and something in the athmosphere disturbed me. I saw, or felt, some of my friends exchange odd glances over the beer cans, or so I thought. I tried to disregard it as a slight case of paranoia, but then I saw Bob talking to a huge, muscular, booted and harnessed guy with a huge basket covered with a studded pouch. A newcomer? Well, not to the scene, obviously, not with that outfit and a shaven head to top it. Bob was my closest friend with whom I had at one time shared a small apartment. We still had occasional sex, with or without the participation of the other regulars, most commonly in the backrooms of this bar. His favourite pastime, when it comes to me, and one of mine I might add, was to tie me to the sling, shove a dildo up my ass and start wiring leather stripes around my ballsack. He would let the ends of the stripes run through my titrings and then tie them to a steel ring in the ceiling. He would then lower the sling, forcing my ballsack en tits to stretch gradually. He would have some guy administer poppers to me to help me expand my limits, and it is a small wonder that my titrings has not yet been ripped off. Lately, he sometimes encases my bare skull in a rubber hood, open only for the nostrils, which drove me even longer into pure extasy. Well, I saw Bob with this guy, and I wanted to dash out of the door but was incapabale of any rational decision. Because now I knew. I knew that Bob had betrayed my confidence and that everyone in the room was informed of my secret desires. You see, I have always wanted to be someones 24/7 slave. The backroom exercises, exciting as they may be, never could replace my unfulfilled dream to become a mans property to do with whatever he would choose. I had confided in Bob over a dinner at my place a couple of weeks earlier, and had done so in just so many liquor-induced graphic details. And now everyone knew. Before I could take a step, I felt Bobs arms grabbing me from behind, locking my arms to my sides, his strong hands tugging at my titrings. I simply had to follow his directions, and we approached the newcomer. - Bob says you want slavery, the newcomer said, and I may have a position for you. Im Dick. My mind started to swirl when he added - My Master wants another slave for experiments that go far beyond the contract he has with me. Are you the one? So what kind of man was He, who had this gorgeous creature for a slave? I was not able to utter a word. Bob looked at me encouragingly enough to make me study the newcomer more closely. His muscular, tanned body wore no jewels, no tattoos and was completely hairless, the area above the studden pouch completely bare, even his eyelashes were gone. - Permanently, all of it, he said, having followed my gaze. Do we have an appointment or not? Bob answered for me, so of course we had. In two days I should arrive at this address, nothing but burned bridges behind me and nothing but what? before me. Bob decided for me I was too engulfed in a raging fantasy to respond to anything. Only my cock betrayed me. The hard-on was all but painful against my tight leather. We had a few more beers I dont remember how many and as the bar closed, Bob had offered to move into my place and take care of what would not for long now be my belongings. He accompanied me home and we had some wild sex. Technically he raped me, and the night ended with his ripping the ring out of my left nipple. Coagulated blood adorned part of my chest when I finally woke up, in the early morning hours. Two days later, at exactly 6 pm, I rang the bell of a typical south Manhattan cast iron building. The guy answering the bell was Dick, now wearing nothing but his studded pouch. He gestured at me to enter, so I did. I was ordered to strip naked, so I did. I was told to go through a door, so I did. The door closed behind me and the room behind it was small, more like a closet, actually. On a desk there was a pile of paper. I was told to read it through, carefully, so I did. When finished, I was asked to sign the contract if I agreed to the terms. And I did. - Admission granted, Dick pronounced with a broad smile, and a door opened to a room of steel and black tile. Behind a steel desk there was a motion of a man getting to his feet. The man wore a black leather mask and boots. A cock ring made his enormous genitals protrude from his body. His sex was glistening from all the piercings he had inserted: rings, barbells. I was blinded by the sight. He also wore a complete bodysuit, each design emphasising his mastership. - So youre Two, my Master said. Meet One. Dick approached, stood before me and slowly removed his studded pouched, revealing a thick steel ring where his genitals used to be. - This is as far as he would go, Master said. This is what we agreed upon, and now I need you for some further experiment. Understood? I had signed the contract, so there was no turning back. Not that I wanted to. I nodded. - Good. And you should know that every step in your transformation will be publically announced. I want people to admire my skills. You will be taken to meet your friends at the bar, so that they will always know who you were and what you are becoming. With these words he left and Dick motioned me through another door. He covered my head with a rubber hood opened only for the nostrils. He forced my body to the floor and I faintly heard a clicking sound. Then I realized I couldnt move. I was trapped, almost certainly in a cage of some kind. I was left in it for a great length of time. I must have been only semi conscious, because when I finally came to, itching stublle covered my pubic area. I could not move enough to scratch it, so I was relieved when once again I heard that clinking sound and was released. The rubber hood removed, I found that the hair on my head had grown some too. Before I could enjoy my freedom, Dick or One as he was to be addressed when at home, cuffed my arms behind my back and brought me to see Master. - First session, One said, and I had guessed what would happen next. Two weeks later I was brought out of the house for the first time, to visit the bar. Only this time I had received strict behaving orders: I was allowed to talk to my friends but only to answer their questions and I was to keep close to One and to Master, with whom I had to take the slaves position: totally in the nude, with head down and kneeling. Master did not need anything to control me. His finger on my now permanently denuded skull was enough to keep me from violating my position. Some of my friends took their time to get adjusted to seeing me in this role I had been a top to a couple of them through the years but once the thought had sunk in I recieved a lot of compliments. My overall baldness made my trim body look more defined, my genitals even more impressive than before, and the lack of eye hair gave my face a slightly oriental touch. I receieved the compliments properly, with humbleness and with gratitude to Master. Someone put tit clamps on me, and before we left that evening I must have been fucked by at least a dozen of the barflys, and my balls were worked over quite heavly. Someone even tried to fist me, but I was not ready for that yet. So now Master knew that I had to be trained, and trained hard. I had to crawl to the car wearing only a dildo up my ass and a thick, heavy steel ball strecther that made my balls almost touch the pavement as I crawled. Back home, I was put in the cage again, hood on, stretchers still attached and dildo remaining in my butthole. In the morning I was presented something that turned out to be a schedule for my daily duties. I was brought to Masters bedroom for breakfast, which included sucking him off and swallow his morning piss. Master, still in his leather hood, seemed satisfied with my performance. Brought to the bathroom, I found One waiting for me for the morning shower, that ran out of his urethra relocated to only half an inch or so from his asshole. He then hosed me down The water felt icy against my denuded skin. Beside the bedroom was a room, furnished in steel and black unpolished tile. I immediately realized that I would spend several hours in this room. It was the room in which Master would turn me into his dream of a slave, of Two. Surgery was performed here. It was my transformation room. One strapped me down in a cold, steel barbers chair, and left. And this time I had not a clue as to what was going to happen next. I heard voices next, and Master entered, hooded and naked as before. Accompanying him was an equally hooded and naked guy, who carried a steel attaché case. He had a swimmers built and huge genitals. He also wore them split in two halves, cock and scrotum alike. An ingeniuos cock ring kept the two parts spread wide apart. The man opened the attaché case and pulled out some instruments. I had a shot, and after a moment my whole body felt num, my conscience a bit blurred but not enough to make me unaware of what was going on. I had a painful hard-on during the whole process. Only the ball stretcher and leather straps bound tightly at the bease of my genitals kept me from ruining the scene by cumming. For two weeks after that day I was not served breakfast. I was allowed food to keep me from drying out, and water. It sure felt odd, running my tongue over my toothless gums. Odd, but erotic. In the bar, on the first evening out, I had to prove my tooth nullification to at least twenty stiffed-cocked, hungry men. I ached but I had still not been allowed, sexual release. From the appearance of One and Master himself I sure could guess the nature of some of the rituals I would have to participate in, but after a month or so I lost interest in guessing how far my transformance would go or in which order Masters experiments would be performed upon me. I settled for the daily routine of satisfying Master, concentrated on his pleasure and grew less and less concerned with my own inability to ejaculate, although I had not been castrated, yet. I was proud enough of my new ability to receive his fist up my rectum and of the encreasing size of the dildo I had to wear when not in service. During each of these sessions my body jewellery was ripped from my body, one by one. Gradually I got used to the pain involved. My cockhead looked a bit pathetic cut half through after the removal of the PA and the Ampallang. This did not effect my hard-on, though. With each step I took, my cock swung before me like a proud pole. At our next bar visit my back was fully tattooed from the neck down. The needle had even danced on my butt and around my asshole. The whole process hurt like hell and the healing process was an itching hell. I had to spend two weeks lying on my stomach, my ever hard cock pressed against the steel of the couch as though eager to penetrate it. I had not been allowed to see the result, but when the mens arms travelled over my back before their fists entered me I was proud anyway. My egocentricity disappeared slowly with the amount of cocks my mouth served that evening. My nipples were removed before the next tattoing session. Two faint scars where they used to be were soon covered with tattooed fantasies in black and red. The pattern continued over my flat, hard belly. I dont know much about anatomy, but I realized it must have taken much effort and costs to deprive me of my belly-button. I was offered a gift before leaving for the bar two weeks later. It was a steel collar for my neck. It was a neat construction of two concentrical curved steel plates thar could be adjusted in height. There were steel rings for bondage purposes around it and a button was placed in the back. The collar was cut lower in front, so wearing it would force my head down. When fully extended, the collar would stretch my neck at least 5 inches. The collar was put on, and Master used a small torch to seal it. The collar now was unremovable and my head fixed in one downcast position. It didnt make being mouth-fucked any easier, at least not for the fucker, but that seemed to arouse Master. That night, for the first time in public, he exposed his genitals and intruded my mouth, smearing my denuded skull and face after he had cum. At home that night, I started contemplating. I could not figure out what would happen next. So far, in some respects, my modifications went far beyond those of Ones. But still, he was a nullo, and Master had not yet shown any interest in my genitals, apart from the fact that he had ingeniously made it impossible for me to ejaculate, in spite of being horny every minute of the day. I had started to long for the day when my cock and balls were to depart from my body. Anything but the constant torture of being on the verge but never released. Instead, Master continued his imagery and had my head and face covered with tattoos. As tattooes take some time to heal, nothing much happened during the next fortnight. Apart from meals and showers I was kept in my cage. One sometimes offered me a drink,. standing over the cage exposing his denuded croth with that big steel ring. He was unbearably beautiful. What I had experienced so far could not be called major surgery, possibly with the exception of the removal of my navel, but a couple a mornings later Master announced that time had come for me to lose vital parts of my body. My cock as usual sprang to life immediately at the announcement, as if expecting to be selected for removal. I could understand that I had envied One his denuded crotch ever since I had found out he was a nullo. I guess Master already knew and therefore had decided on another schedule. Once again One strapped me to the steel barbers chair, once again I heard distant voices and Master approached. His company this time was not the dentist with the split genitals. The man was introduced to me as Master Serge and he was a rather small man, with a tight, trim body. He wore nothing but black boots, a heavy padlock for a PA and a face and skull tattooed Maori style. Behind the padlock, nothing could be seen. He had had his balls removed, and his scrotum with it. He put on surgery gloves and gave me a shot and I went out in a few seconds. When I woke up, Master Serge had left and I was back in my cage. Still quite dizzy from the anesthetic I could not figure out at first what had happened, but it sure felt odd. One looked in to see if I was OK and I just mustered enough strength to indicate to him that I was. A few minutes later, Master arrived to announce that my morning breakfast would not be served for at least two weeks and I wanted to ask why. My cock, now encased in a steel coat tried to make the chastity device crack when I realized I couldnt. - Yes, Master Serge is a brilliant craftsman, Master said, and you have been made speechless. Next time with breakfast my cock will enter your throat without your tongue being in the way. Voice box is gone as well, he said matter-of-factly. Strangely enough, my immediate reaction was and odd kind of pride. I felt unique, perhaps, and most of all I realized I was in the hands of a man who was determined to change me into something he had always dreamt of possessing, and to my mind that was a kind of well, love perhaps. Tears came into my eyes, and perhaps Master misread their meaning, because he told me, in a rather harsh way, that he was not through with me yet, and that, for the next session, Master Serge would need an assistant. On our next Saturday night out, a couple of months later, Master brought his two slaves naked into the street, naked but for the steel collar I had gotten quite used to wearing but that seemed to bring som discomfort to One, who had his put on only the day before. A steel bar connected our collars and Ones arms were tied behind his back. I still wore my chastity device, and One didnt need any, for obvious reasons. There also was no need to cuff my arms, since they now had been severed at the shoulders, at the end of the collar bone. It was quite neatly done, and plastic surgery and tattoos helped create a smooth surface. It looked as if I had been born without them. Master Serge had performed the surgery, assisted by a body builder of the type who looked as if he had been raised on steroids: completely hairless, broad shoulders, enormous chest, slim waist, thick but well defined legs and no genitals at all, hardly even a hint of a scar. The two surgeons were both at the bar that evening. In their skin tight leather outfist, noone could have guessed that neithr of them was a full man any more. Stranger, perhaps, was that I still was, in a sense. And much to my regret. As events turned out, it became clear that as much as longed for my complete nullification, to be like One in that respect, One had begun to feel envious about the attention Master had shown me since I came into his care. This became obvious to me when one day he appeared to the daily shower his back covered in tattoos. And the more Masters attention was drawn to One, the longer I had to wait for the next step in my transformation. I was beginning to realize in which direction I was taken, and was not surprised at the arrival of Master Serge and his assistant it was exatly six months after my first entrance in Masters house. Nor did it around me to find, upon awakening from surgery, that I was now reduced to a torso with a head that rested upon a long, stretched neck. The only thing I regretted, apart from still wearing genitals, was that I was never to hosed down by One again, him having lost the ability. His arms were gone. If I had been able to, I would have sang with rejoice the day Master carried my mutilated body and strapped it to the barbers chair once again, removed my chastity belt and as a preparation inserted a catheter into my stiff rod. My downcast eyes fell upon my stiff cock and my large nuts. A pang of joy went through my body as Master administrated the numbing shots at the base of my genitals. Then Master Serge arrived, and the body builder, and tyhey were not alone. A group of friends from my former life had been invited to witness my final reduction. Numb as I was, I imagine I felt the scaplel as it started penetrating my ballsack and slowly exposed its content. With a swift, round movement of the knife, the scrotum left my body and the nuts were hanging freely in their cords. Master Serge left them hanging and steered his attention to my cock, digging deeply for its roots. An incision was made close to my anus for my urethra before he slid the cock off the catheter and away from my body, Then he released the nuts and sutured the wound neatly. Now we are both kept in the same room, One and I. We rest upon padded stools opposite each other, supported by steel bars from our collars reaching the walls behind us. We could be taken for twins now. We both perform the same rituals, serving each visitor who still have a cock with our void mouths. Sometimes we are lifted from the stools to have large cocks or fists penetrating our asses. One day Master had a special visitor. He was quite young, blond, handsome and intact. Before he entered our room, w