We
Both Know What You Are
Part 2
by
Willin2PaynPS
My
Master has ordered me to continue my recollections
of the events that led me to my true and happy calling
as a slave, so here is where we pick up from my
fraternity pledge period at a major Texas university.
As I have already recounted, I became a total slave
to the frat’s president and his close buddy,
the pledge master, and spent my time worrying about
my life after they, as seniors, graduated as I was
just completing my freshman year. But I am getting
ahead of myself and will continue recounting those
days immediately following my enslavement in the
frat president’s room.
The torture of waiting for the other shoe to drop
was dreadful. There was no word or sign of either
my Master, Lance, the president, or of my other
master, his buddy, for several weeks. I saw them
entering and leaving the frat house but I instinctively
lowered my eyes and neither spoke to me. At the
end of the pledge period, I was unanimously voted
in as a full member and received a hearty handshake
in front of the assembled house members from each
of them…but no other words or signs of recognition.
Returning from afternoon classes one sunny Fall
day, I passed the Boss Man’s room and saw
he was engaged in conversation with his jock buddy,
the same positions as when I first joyously lost
my freedom to them several weeks before. They signaled
for me to enter that exciting place and to close
the door. The Boss snapped his fingers and I instinctively
prostrated myself at his feet, burying my head in
the soft smell of his leather boots.
Placing his other booted foot on the side of my
groveling face, he said quietly but sternly, “I
give orders only once. I never repeat them. Do you
understand?”
I was brimming over with happiness and could only
croak a “Yes, Master.” His next orders,
delivered with my face hopelessly sandwiched between
his two boots, etched themselves totally in my mind.
“You will go into town and rent a one bedroom
apartment. You will keep it ready for either or
both of us at all times. A call on the cell phone
that you will always carry will alert you to our
need of your freaking’ slave services or to
the fact that you will have to clean up after we’ve
used it. This may occur at any hour, day or night.
You are to break-off whatever you are doing and
get there pronto. When you have this set-up, no
later than tomorrow afternoon, you will notify one
of us and be waiting there with a full accounting
of your finances. We will then determine how much,
if anything, you need and the rest will be gratefully
offered to us and you will beg us to take it. If
you don’t get enough from home, you’ll
get a part-time job. You will be given ample time
to study and for classes. You will wear no clothes
there except a slave collar and you had better not
be caught wearing clothes when we are there. You
are now a piece of property and have no free will.
This is your last and only chance to refuse this
arrangement. We don’t negotiate. Do you surrender
your manhood?”
I wept with ecstatic joy on my Master’s boot
as I heartily accepted these irrevocable terms.
Master hoisted me by my hair to a kneeling position,
took his beautiful cock out and…and He allowed
my to drink his piss! I was caught off-guard but
recovered and swallowed gratefully. Instead of removing
his magnificent manhood, he started thrusting and
cum soon cascaded down my throat, plastering my
tonsils with its sticky substance.
As Master withdrew, he nodded almost imperceptibly
toward Jim, his buddy and now my other Master. I
turned, groveled at Master Jim’s feet, pledging
my slavery, and then happily took his piss. A large
load of his cum quickly followed. Master Jim put
a different twist on things by pulling out of my
mouth at the last minute and splattering my face
with his thick, heated seed. The entire scene had
obviously turned my Masters on but I was wise enough
not to comment. As though nothing had happened,
they ignored me and resumed an animated discussion
of that day’s football practice. I slunk away
without a word. Slaves do not intrude on their superiors’
activities. I was experiencing rapture.
Between my two first classes I made a few calls
to local landlords whose ads I read in the classifieds.
By early afternoon a remote apartment in a sparsely
tenanted building had been rented and I slipped
the address with a key under Master’s door.
Two hours later I received a terse call telling
me to be there at 6PM. I was there at five, stocking
the ancient fridge with cold beer. And then I waited,
naked, dreading yet anxiously anticipating the coming
evening. About 7:15 a car drove up, the sound of
heavy footsteps pounding down the hall got my heart
racing and in strode my Masters, sly, evil grins
on their handsome faces. I lay prostrate and, without
a word, Master Lance plopped in a chair, grabbed
my slave collar and indicated that I should remove
his boots and sox as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing
his smooth, muscular chest. Within seconds he sat
there naked, grinning, then spoke, not to me but
to his buddy, Jim. “You could barely keep
your woody under control all day, Jimmy Boy. Now’s
your chance to give that big fella between your
legs some relief.” Jim was undressing and,
now naked and without answering, roughly ran his
veined dick all over my lips, wetting it. He then
forced me into an inverted V position and plunged
his long cock into my ass. It was my first time
being fucked. I saw stars as the pain surged through
my body and my unusual position of both of my feet
and both hands on the floor didn’t help matters.
I bit my lip hard and made no sound. I knew instinctively
that a slave’s pain is of no concern to his
Masters.
Jim’s thrusts were so hard that I was forced
to move in jerks about the room. That seemed to
vastly amuse both Jim and Master Lance, undoubtedly
reminding them of a cowboy breaking in a new steer.
I caught a fleeting glance in the full length mirror
on the back of the door of Jim, almost withdrawing
but then throwing his arms in the air and thrusting
hard one last time as he gave out a bloodcurdling
rebel yell. His hot cum filled my rectum. He withdrew
his golden rod and wiped it on my hair. Now Master
Lance slowly stood and snapped his fingers. I crawled
to him and lovingly placed my face into his crotch
as he indicated. Inhaling the warm, heady aroma
of young, clean male sweat did to me what I later
found poppers did…but the aphrodisiac of poppers
was never as exhilarating as the delicious musk
of Master Lance’s crotch. He positioned me
on my backside, the back of my head on the seat
of the chair he had just vacated. Master then spread
the cheeks of his ass and sat on my face. Another
new world opened for me! My tongued licked furiously
as Master groaned softly and, beneath the firm buttocks,
I could hear the muffled sounds of Jim laughing.
I reveled in my humiliation and my total debasement
by these two clearly superior men whose slave I
was so honored to be. I was in harmony with my true
nature and knew my destiny. These thoughts were
abruptly terminated by my Master’s standing
and I quickly scurried into a kneeling position.
He graciously allowed me to suck him dry and I savored
the gism as it pulsated into my mouth.
Masters Lance and Jim dressed and I helped them
with their boots by pushing my face against them
as they slid onto their feet. It was then that I
received my instructions. In the trunk of Lance’s
car were two hefty bags of dirty laundry. After
they left I was to immerse my face in the heap of
moldering jock straps, grungy sneakers and stiff
sweat sox and was told I could jerk off at that
time. I was very grateful to my Masters for their
kindness and looked forward to the release that
orgasm would bring. Pre-cum drip was already forming
on the tip of my cock. Their laundry would be washed
and folded for their next visit when they would
replenish the supply. I told them how much money
I had left after expenses for the frat house, meal
ticket and now the apartment. They immediately slashed
that small amount by two-thirds. That would be humbly
given to them weekly. Having been given permission
to speak, I asked if I might have some gas money
for my car, a present from my parents the day I
left for the university. “What car?”
Master Lance asked sarcastically as he and Jim roared
laughing. Its now yours only to wash. “You’ll
walk, hitchhike or use an old bike for your errands.
Slaves don’t drive new cars. Masters do!”
With that, he confiscated my keys. That made sense
to me and I thanked my Masters for pointing out
this obvious truth. They left, Master Lance driving
my…his…car and I came twice with my
head buried in their sweetly rank laundry. I fell
asleep, totally at peace with myself and with my
new world.
Author’s note: I have errands to run and chores
to do now. I’ll continue these memoirs if
anyone is interested and when I’m permitted.
Thank you.
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