A Night Out (Part 1)

A gay loner answers an ad by a Master.

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A NIGHT OUT
by
yashmakkk
Copyright 1999


	Sam was what everyone thought was a nice kid...if a 19-year 
old young man could be considered a kid.  He was bright, thoughtful, 
generous, kind and forgiving, which gave him a large circle of 
friends.  He worked at Abracadabra, a local theme restaurant that 
was currently popular with the yuppies, the preppies, the dinks and 
the like, and usually wore shorts and Tees, with sneakers and 
shrugged white socks.  Fortunately, this was also the employee 
uniform, so he was always appropriately dressed, to his way of 
thinking.  He was of medium height, with dark blond hair, green 
eyes, and 180 pounds of well-formed and well-distributed flesh, with 
beautiful, shapely feet. He always looked polished and always 
smelled sweetly of this or that cologne.  None of his friends, 
however, knew anything of his home life, and they didn't intrude, 
which suited Sam just fine, he being a private person with his 
private life.  If the truth be known, he lived simply, by himself, 
and had no great ambitions.  He was happily engaging while in 
public, or working, but then tended to disappear, seeking his own 
diversions.
	So what would Sam's friends think if they saw him walking in 
an upscale neighborhood of a crosstown area, eyeing each address,  
looking for a man whose ad he answered in a Gay magazine?
	Hmmm.  1600 Mockingbird Circle.  Sam looked up from the 
paper he had scrunched in his hand at the imposing home at that 
address.  It was an old-guard neighborhood, in which the homes were 
very large turn-of-the-century, close to the street but with high 
walls, gates and thick shrubs.  He thought of, was it Robert Frost's 
observation, that high fences make good neighbors.  Sam was sure 
that the residents didn't spend much time talking over the back 
fence.
	The front door was not accessible from the street, but there 
was a button on the wall next to the large, solid wrought-iron gates 
that kept the public out. It opened on a drive which curved 
sufficiently to allow border plantings to entirely obscure any view 
of the grounds beyond.  Sam touched the button and began to wait.
	"Yes?" came the almost immediate response.
	"This is Sam."  
	As the gate began to open, the voice replied "Please come to 
the front door."  
	Sam walked in and the gate immediately began to close.  He 
walked up the drive to a wide flagstone path which led to the porch 
and mounted the steps.  When he got to the door, he looked back, and 
marveled at how completely the street was concealed from view.  He 
noticed the surrounding yard was relatively small for the size of 
the house, although it was much larger than average, and it was 
beautifully secluded, as well.  One could do anything out here, he 
thought, without anyone seeing from the outside.
	The door was opened by a well-built man of about 30, in 
livery.  Very impressive, thought Sam, as he followed the man's 
wordless motion to come inside, where he was greeted by a man who 
introduced himself as Mr. Avery who, he later learned, had placed 
the ad.  Avery showed him into a sun room and invited him to make 
himself comfortable and suggested that he address him as Avery.
	"Why did you come, Sam?" asked Avery.  
	"Your ad said that you were looking for a slave.  I have 
heard something about this sort of thing, and I thought it might be 
an interesting experience."
	"What, exactly, did you hear, Sam?"  Avery smiled and looked 
 inquiringly into Sam's eyes.
	"Well, run errands, do tough things on order, be around all 
the time, maybe cook, or clean or do anything like that."  He 
shrugged.
	"I'll tell you, Sam, that there is more to it than that. At 
least, the way I participate in such a relationship."
	"What do you mean?" Sam replied, as he sat forward in the 
chair.  He began to have second thoughts about this, in spite of 
Avery's pleasant manner.
	"Well..." Avery replied, "...in this household, I am the 
Master, and it means just that.  All of my servants are slaves, over 
which I exercise total control.  I provide well for them, and they 
all live on the premises, and they are always available to satisfy 
my wishes, whatever they may be, and however difficult they may be 
to carry out. Some are skilled in various arts and sciences, which I 
find useful, from time to time."  He paused.  "Have you any such 
skills?"
	"Unfortunately, no," replied Sam.  "But I'm a quick study," 
he added with a smile.
	"That, in itself, is often of great value, Sam."  Avery 
smiled, which allayed Sam's apprehension.  "Would you be able to 
live in my home under these conditions?"
	"I...I don't know," replied Sam.  He was thinking about the 
life he had and the freedom that it provided him.  He didn't have 
much, but he could come and go as he pleased, and he didn't owe 
anything to anyone.
	"Here," said Avery.  "I have a proposition for you.  Give 
yourself a test run. Charles, who runs the house, will give you some 
instructions about how you are to act and dress for the rest of the 
day, after which we will chat further.  You may spend the night, if 
you wish, and leave in the morning if you decide against remaining 
in my service."  He paused.  "But I hope you decide to stay.  I 
think you would work out very well."  He stepped to the wall and 
pushed a button, to which a middle-aged man in a tuxedo responded.
	"Charles, please show Sam to his room and tell him how to 
get started."  Avery turned and was gone.  
	Charles smiled and motioned to Sam to follow him, up the 
stairs to a spacious, well-appointed room  with bath.  He became 
very chatty and began by talking about the weather, the house and, 
it seemed to Sam, whatever else flew into his head.  Suddenly, his 
tone changed, and his grin disappeared.
	"You may remove your clothes and put these on,"  pointing to 
a garment on a chair.
	Sam looked and saw what appeared to be a miniskirt.  He held 
it up and discovered that it was a muumuu-like garment, with cowl 
sleeves.  Under it was a very small jock-strap, he thought.  He 
removed his shorts and top and stood patiently.
	"I said remove your clothes, Sam.  All of them."  Charles 
said this somewhat more forcefully.
	Sam hesitated a minute, then removed his jockey shorts, 
shoes and socks, which Charles gathered and placed into a plastic 
bag. 
	"These will be laundered for you and will be ready in the 
morning."  Charles held up the bag.  "Now, please put that on."
	Sam slipped the "dress" over his head and looked himself 
over in the mirror.  Not bad, he thought.  It reached just to his 
crotch, and his large penis and correspondingly large scrotum and 
balls just peeked from under the hem.  "What about the jock?" he 
asked, pointing at the device on the chair.
	"That is not a jock, Sam.  It is a modified codpiece," 
replied Charles, "and it is obvious that you have had no experience 
with one, so I will help you to put it on.  On the bed,  please."
	Sam laid down and Charles took the "jock" and fastened the 
waistband very tightly in place.  There was no give.  He folded it 
onto Sam's stomach to keep it out of the say.  It was then that Sam 
saw a large dildo attached to the leather crotch strap.  Charles 
then produced some tape and other things from the cabinet in the 
bathroom.  He worked very quickly, insisting that Sam lie back so he 
saw nothing more of the procedure.  First, he grabbed Sam's scrotum 
from the front and pushed his penis into it, until just the 
eurethral opening showed, which he directed downward.  He took what 
looked like a potato chip bag clip and applied it to the fold of the 
scrotum, thus holding the penis enveloped.  He took some super glue 
and applied a quantity sufficient to hold the penis permanently 
wrapped.  As soon as this dried, he removed the clip.  It appeared 
that Sam's penis was gone.  He then carefully pushed Sam's testicles 
up into the abdomen, just above the penile root, or where it should 
be.  He held the flesh to prevent them from slipping down and 
flipped the "jock" down and over Sam's groin.  It covered the works, 
except for a hole down low and at the end of a small protruberance  
which corresponded to the position of Sam's penis hole.  Holding it 
fast, Charles told Sam to turn over, which he did.  He took some KY 
jelly and lubed the dildo and quickly inserted it in Sam's anus, 
then buckled the crotch strap to the waist, drawing it tightly.
	Sam's pelvis felt totally bound.  "What is the purpose of 
this, Charles?' he inquired. 
 "It is not my place to question Mr. Avery's motives, Sam.  Get up, 
please."
	Sam did and looked at himself in the mirror.  His equipment 
was no longer visible.  Indeed, it looked as if he had none.  "Where 
are my shoes and socks, Charles," he asked.
	"No, Sam.  These are all the clothes you'll need tonight.  
And here is what you must remember for tonight.  As of this moment, 
and for the rest of the day, until you retire, you are in Mr. 
Avery's service.  You are his slave in the classical sense of the 
word, which is the reason for this garment.  It is a Roman slave 
tunic.  See that box, with the lights?"  He pointed to a plaque on 
the wall above the door.  That is how you, as a slave, would be 
called.  A bell will ring, accompanied by a light that tells you 
where you are being summoned to.  Today, however, because you are 
unfamiliar, I am to take you to Mr. Avery, and he will deal with you 
from there.  You must not speak unless spoken to.  Your eyes must 
always be downcast in his presence, and you must always address him 
as Master, no matter how familiar he might sound.  That is a test, 
to see how completely you obey.  You must do whatever he asks you to 
do, no matter how unpleasant it might sound."  He paused.  "It is 
time to go."
	He led Sam downstairs and back into the sun room, where Mr. 
Avery was waiting, and withdrew.
	"Hello, Sam," said Avery.
	"Hello, Master," replied Sam, his eyes downcast.
	"Come and stand by my right side, and just behind me."  Sam 
complied.  "Yes.  That's just right.  Whenever you are with me, and 
not tending to someone else's desires, that is where you must be.  
Do you understand, Sam?"
	"Yes, Master," replied Sam. 
"You are probably wondering why you have been prepared the way you 
have?"  
	"Well, I was kinda..." he caught himself.  "Yes, Master," he 
replied.
	 "Very good, Sam!  You ARE a quick study.  However, it is 
not your place to wonder about these things.  If I tell you, then 
you will know.  If I don't, then you won't know.  Is that 
understood?"
	"Yes, Master," he replied.
	"I make very great demands on my slaves.  You must know that 
right away, but they are not filthy. I will not relieve myself in 
your mouth, or expect you to perform other such indecencies.  I will 
not compel any bestiality by you, but I will, most certainly, 
require certain body modifications that may surprise, or even dismay 
you, one of which will occur tonight.  Do you understand that?"
	"What...Yes, Master," Sam replied, but somewhat tremulously, 
this time.
	"In the meantime, please go through that door," indicating 
across the room, "and bring my dinner."
	"Yes, Master," Sam replied and left the room, finding 
himself in the kitchen, where the chef pointed to a large fully 
loaded silver tray, complete with coffee urn.  Sam picked it up and 
returned to the sun room. Avery pointed to a table in the window and 
Sam placed it there.
	"You may pour the coffee, Sam," which he did, but failed, 
thereafter,  to take his position at the Master's right.
	"Sam?" Avery said pointedly, looking at the position.  
	Sam raised his eyes but not his head, and quickly assumed 
the position.
	"Very good, Sam.  I think, if you choose, you will do very 
well."  He finished his dinner in silence and Sam removed the tray 
to the kitchen, returning to the sun room.
	"Here is another thing to remember, Sam.  That," pointing 
behind and to his right, "is always your position, except when I 
tell you differently.  Never assume that I mean what I have not 
said.  You are always to be near me, except when you have retired 
for the night.  You have no days off, or time to yourself except at 
night, in your quarters, and you are always on call.  Do you 
understand that?"
	"Yes, Master."
	"Even though you may not remain, you must sign a contract 
with me acknowledging that you remained here today of your own free 
will and that you willingly underwent anything that I requested, as 
an audition for a permanent position in my household.  Is this 
clear?"
	"Yes, Master.  I will sign it."
	"Good.  I was hoping you would say that."  Avery walked over 
to a rattan desk and withdrew a document of two or three pages.  He 
gave it to Sam, who read it only cursorily, noting that it said, by 
and large, what Avery had recited.  He did not read everything, and 
took the pen proffered by Avery and signed quickly on the line by 
the "X".
	"Thank you, Sam.  Now, first to my room, and then we will go 
to my little dispensary."  He walked briskly out of the room, with 
Sam at his heel.
	They went upstairs, where Avery brushed his teeth and 
changed his clothes, Sam assisting him with the latter.  Avery told 
him just how to deal with the soiled clothes, how to turn down the 
bed and other things that may not ever be relevant, if Sam were not 
to stay.  Sam was impressed with the increasing weight of his 
responsibilities, should he stay, and wondered how he would ever be 
able to keep up, quick as he was.
	"Follow me, please.  This is the last time I shall say this, 
Sam.  You are expected to be with me, just like a faithful dog.  
That's what slaves are...faithful dogs. Do you understand?"
	"Yes, Master, replied Sam.
	They moved through the house, Sam constantly impressed by 
its size, and finally entered a room that looked like a private 
surgery, as the English call it.  A white-smocked attendant was 
there, and Sam was directed to sit on the table.  A deep pan filled 
with water was placed under his feet, so that he could hang them in 
the water without touching the bottom.  He was told to place his 
feet thusly.  Sam grimaced.  The water was cold.  The attendant then 
reached behind him and, with tongs, produced a large piece of dry 
ice, which he placed in the water, as well. Sam felt the extreme 
cold but the water insulation prevented frostbite.  In no time at 
all, his feet were like stones.  They were lifted out of the water 
and his little toe was squeezed with pliers.  He felt nothing at 
all.
	"Very good," observed Avery.  "Please move up on the table 
and lie down, please."
	Sam complied and his hands and feet were quickly strapped 
down.  This is part of the contract you signed, Sam.  It will be 
painless and it will give you an idea of the allegiance that my 
slaves give to me.
	Sam had no idea what Avery was talking about.  He had a 
notion that something was going on with his feet, but couldn't see, 
 In about twenty minutes, the attendant unbuckled the straps and Sam 
sat up.  Alongside him was a stainless steel dish.  He looked 
closely at the four objects lying on it.  Toes!  He looked at his 
feet.  Each was bandaged.  He counted toes.  The big toe, the third 
and little toes on each foot had bandaged gaps between them.  Three! 
 The second and fourth toes were removed from each foot.  Sam fell 
back on the table.  He felt no pain, but the surprise was shocking.
	He was encouraged to walk immediately, being told that the 
sutures were self-dissolving and the surgery was very minor. The 
attendant offered him the toes, saying  he had put them in 
preservative so they wouldn’t shrink.  Sam didn't reply.
	 Avery accompanied him back to his room and wished him a 
good night, saying he would see him in the morning.  "Yes, Master," 
was all that Sam could think to reply.
	Sam removed the tunic and felt the urge to relieve himself. 
 It was then that he thought of what was done down below.  He looked 
at it, and saw the shield, with a small hole, that covered his 
genitals.  He went into the bathroom and wondered just how this was 
going to work, silently thankful that his urge was not of the other 
kind, the butt plug feeling suddenly large in his rear.  He sat on 
the toilet and let go, relieved that the stream was angled straight 
down, and that he had not forgotten and attempted it while standing. 
 He retired and fell into a fretful sleep.
	Morning came quickly.  Sam awoke and saw that his clothes, 
his real ones, were stacked neatly on the chair.  He wondered how 
this was done unknown to him when there was a knock and Avery 
entered. 
	"Good morning, Sam," he said.  He held a key in his hand and 
reached at Sam's waist and unbuckled the harness from his loins.  
"What do you think?"
	Sam shook his head and thought a minute.  "I'd like to think 
about it for a while.  It was an interesting experience, but also 
very strange. "That's all right, Sam," replied Avery.  "You go home 
and think about it.  I'll wait for your call.  Charles will see you 
out."  He began to leave the room.  "Oh, by the way," he said, 
turning, "you will take something with you...the experience.  You 
will, eventually, open up down below, but it will take a couple of 
days at the earliest.  It gives you a notion of what I may require 
of you as a slave.  You will leave something here...the toes.  They 
are negligible to mobility, and I want you to look at what you might 
consider an improvement in looks.  Remember, that was consented to 
by you in the contract.  See you soon, Sam?"  He turned and was 
gone.

	Sam made his way back to his own place with some little 
difficulty, it being quite a distance away. His feet were beginning 
to throb dully...not a sharp pain but a continuing one, and getting 
to the bus had caused him some discomfort. He hadn’t thought about 
anything except getting back and, now that he was there, fell on the 
bed and tore off his sneakers. The relief was immediate. The 
confinement of the shoes was just enough to antagonize his sore 
forefeet.  He gently lifted back and removed his socks.  He had not 
imagined what he saw in Avery’s dispensary. Each of his feet had two 
gaps between the toes. Reaching into his jacket pocket for a 
handkerrchief, he felt something plastic.  Pulling it out, he 
discovered it to be a plastic baggie, well sealed, containing liquid 
with four lengths of flesh...his toes. They were not mutilated in 
any way. In fact, they were perfectly preserved. Each had been 
severed at the base, and none of the skin was reflected, nor was any 
of the meat removed. He looked back at his feet but they were too 
professionally bandaged to examine in any detail. He resolved to let 
nature take its course and wait for a week, or so. 
The long walk, and then the bus trip, besides irritating his damaged 
feet, had agitated his bladder, and he got up to relieve himself. 
Without thinking, he unzipped his pants and reached in, only to find 
that there was nothing there. he removed his pants and jockey shorts 
and looked at his genitals. At Avery’s, he had seen only the shield 
that covered his crotch. He had no idea what had been done. He now 
studied it with some interest. His penis was not visible. The 
scrotum had been folded around it and had been glued together, 
effectively confining it in a downward position. He lifted the 
scrotum and saw the head and the urethral opening through a small 
separation in the scrotal tissue. So skillfully was the glue job 
done that there was no play in the flesh. His cock was glued fast to 
the scrotum right to the very end. He stood over the toilet and 
tried to direct the stream that was, by now, just aching to be 
released. He grasped at  his genitals and aimed them at the 
bowl...and sprayed all over. He saw that the scrotal skin flap that 
enveloped the penis like a foreskin got in the way. With his other 
hand, he held that skin back and urinated with more success. 
Afterwards, he looked at himself in the mirror and saw what appeared 
to be a large scrotum with a seam down the middle, containing very 
large balls, their size being accentuated by the penis having been 
enfolded in and glued into the sac. He looked very critically, and 
liked what he saw, which scared him.
The week passed quickly. Sam was able to work without much 
difficulty and his friends didn’t seem to notice his slight limp 
which persisted for a couple of days. However, by the end of the 
period, he was in fine shape again. His genitals had begun to unfold 
from the natural sloughing off of the skin and the consequent 
release of the glued surfaces. A careful examination revealed they 
were none the worse for wear. He had unwrapped his bandaged feet and 
saw that the removals were so carefully done that there was hardly 
an indication of sutures...only the thin line where the incisions 
were made. The sutures had already dissolved. He lay on the bed and 
held his naked feet up. The remaining toes looked like three talons. 
His feet were still beautiful and still symmetrical. It scared him 
that he liked that look, too. He got up and jumped lightly, first on 
one foot, then the other. There was no damage to his balance or 
mobility. He knew that he had fallen into the hands of an artist, 
and knew he would call Avery shortly. He wouldn’t like his friends 
to see his feet just yet, though, until he had thought up a reason 
for the modifications that they would find logical, if not 
reasonable. However, he couldn’t think of any, so resolved to say 
blithely that he had done it himself because he liked the look. His 
friends knew he was a very private person, so nothing should 
surprise them. 
Work at the restaurant was okay, and the tips were good because of 
his personality and the service he provided, but there wasn’t much 
of a future, so Sam wasn’t particularly interested in preserving his 
position. It wouldn’t distress him to leave the job. Once having 
made that evaluation, it was a simple matter to pick up the phone 
and call to Mockingbird Circle.
Charles answered. Sam identified himself and asked to speak with 
Avery. Charles sounded glad to hear from him, saying that he had 
recognized Sam’s voice, which surprised Sam no little bit. Charles 
asked Sam to wait a moment and, after a short wait, Avery was on the 
line.
"Hello, Sam," he exclaimed. "I was hoping that you would consider my 
proposition favorably.’
"Well, I have been giving it a lot of thought. I have my job to 
think about, though," replied Sam.
"This is a job, Sam, and a full-time, lifetime one. I take very good 
care of my slaves...er...help."
Sam wondered if this was slip of the tongue, or just Avery’s way of 
telling him that there was no difference in his household. "What 
guarantee have I that I won’t be turned out into the street at some 
time when I am too old to get a job?"
"That’s an easy one," replied Avery. "I will pay you a salary that 
you will not get until you leave my service. I will take care of all 
of your expenses because you will be in my service day and night, 
seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year. I insist on a long-term 
contract which I do not allow anyone to break, but during that 
period, your pay will be deposited wherever you wish. At the end of 
the contract period, you have the option of renewing or leaving. If 
you leave, the money is yours. If you remain, the money continues to 
accumulate for the period of the next contract, which is of equal 
duration as the first. During these periods, you have the right to 
make regular checks at the bank, to make sure that the deposits are 
made and, if they are not, you have the option to leave my service 
immediately, because I shall have broken the contract." Avery 
paused. "Why don’t you come for dinner tomorrow evening, and we can 
discuss these arrangements further."
This sounded fair to Sam, and he readily agreed. Avery rang off 
almost immediately.

The next evening came quickly, and Sam was soon at Mockingbird 
Circle. Without hesitation this time, he rang the bell and was 
directed to the front door, as before. Charles opened the door, 
greeted Sam warmly and showed him into a drawing room. He had barely 
sat down when Avery came into the room and embraced him.
"How nice to see you, Sam," he effused. "I was beginning to have 
doubts that you would call back, ‘cause I had read you differently 
at our first meeting."
"Oh?" replied Sam. "I have to admit that I thought a lot about your 
employment offer, and I really had no objections to the little 
alterations that you performed on me. In fact, I like the looks of 
them."
"I'm not surprised, Sam. I rather thought that you would. Your feet 
now have a certain glamour, don’t they?" He paused. "And, in my 
crowd, they identify you as belonging to me. If you were to make 
application for service to any of my friends, they would know that 
you had been here for some purpose or another." He rose. "Shall we?" 
Avery pointed to the dining room, where Charles had turned up the 
lights.
Dinner was well-prepared and well-served, the latter by other slaves 
whom Charles directed. Sam didn’t have much opportunity to examine 
any of them because they did their work quietly and efficiently and 
because Avery engaged him in constant conversation.  In fact, Sam 
later reflected that they spoke not a single word.
By and by, dinner was over, and Avery invited Sam to return to the 
drawing room, where they could chat in earnest.
"Do you have any questions, Sam," inquired Avery.
"Well, I have a few. How long is the contract for?"
"Five years, during which time you will not be allowed to leave the 
house and grounds unless by my specific instruction, or to accompany 
me.  Remember, it is a contract of servitude, and I expect complete, 
undivided allegiance."
Sam nodded. "I thought as much. That is acceptable." He paused. 
"What is the pay?"
"Room and board, of course, and all of your medical and other 
expenses, and I will deposit $200 a week into the account of your 
choice, with the proviso that we discussed on the phone, all of 
which becomes part of the contract which you must sign, which 
contract also provides that you must never disclose the nature of 
your service to me on pain of forfeiting your accumulated pay."
"That also, is acceptable," replied Sam. "You very easily 
accomplished the removal of my toes, according to our little 
contract, of course. Are there any other such things in my future as 
a slave?"
"Yes. There must be some. I haven’t yet decided what they shall be, 
but they will be unique to you. Only the toe configuration is common 
to all my slaves. They, however, don’t occupy as personal a position 
as you will, so their uniforms are different. You are the only one 
who will be dressed in a tunic, and barefoot, because you will 
always be inside, and attending to me.  All I can assure you is that 
they will not make you hideous or disfigured. They may, however, 
identify you as somewhat cultish, or a member of an exotic minority 
insofar as they may be ornamental." He paused, again. "I can tell 
you no more. You have to take some risks and...," he looked at Sam 
with barely open eyes, "...I think you can hardly wait to take 
them."
"Yes. I will do it, Avery. When can I start?"
"Of course, I would like it to be tonight, but I know that you have 
to make some arrangements for your belongings. What you have you may 
keep here, but you may not use or wear any of them. I will provide 
everything that you need. You also have to make arrangements with 
your job and your friends, so you are not reported missing. Can you 
accomplish all of this by one week from today?"
"I’m sure that I can, Avery."
"Fine. Then I will expect you here, ready to sign the contract and 
give up control over yourself to me at 8AM one week from today." He 
rose and extended his hand.
Sam rose and shook Avery’s hand as if to seal the bargain. Charles 
appeared from nowhere to show Sam to the door, and he stepped into 
the night, for the first time wondering just what he had obligated 
himself to.