Date: Mon, 15 Oct 2007 19:44:30 +1300
From: Atreyu89 <arron.santry@gmail.com>
Subject: Schoolboy Slave

This is a work of fiction, involving consentual submission between adults
over the age of 18. If you are offended, or not interested in this, please
leave now.

This story is my first ever, so feedback is very much appreciated (mail it
to arron_shampoo@hotmail.com), and also feel free to contribute any ideas
(the raunchier/kinkier the better). Enjoy!


The 8:15 plane into Auckland was right on time. I stepped off with just one
backpack as handluggage, and no suitcases to collect - that was all he had
told me to bring. Only my wallet, phone, passport and a few other personal
items, no clothes other than what I was already wearing - a tight white
t-shirt and faded blue jeans. I knew next to nothing about where I was
going next or who I was going with...but I knew I had never been so excited
in my entire life.

Before I get too far ahead, let me introduce myself. My name is Nick, I'm
18 years old and now in my first year of university in New Zealand. I had
lived my whole life in a small rural town, but in the last year of high
school won a scholarship to a school in a big town. I knew I wanted to go,
but I had nowhere to stay and no financial support from my family, who
wanted me to stay and work on their dairy farm.

I've known I was gay for as long as I can remember, and working on a farm
had definite benefits while I was growing up (muscular men working up a
sweat wearing very little clothing were an everyday sight), but I had never
told anyone else. My only contact with other gay men had been through the
internet, mainly on chat rooms talking with other guys in my country. It
was in one of these chat rooms that I came up with the solution to my
problem.

I came across a profile asking for a live-in houseboy. Interested, I
introduced myself to him and explained my situation. After I showed him a
few pictures, he told me he wanted me, and had just 2 questions. The first
seemed obvious, when could i relocate, but the second was perhaps the most
exciting and dangerous question I've ever been asked: "what are your
limits?". Honestly not knowing, and being caught up in the moment, I
hastily responded "none.". From that point on, things happened very quickly
- I finished out the last few weeks of my school year, accepted my
scholarship, and booked a plane ticket. The arrangement we had made was
still not finalised, but from what I had been told, I was to be houseboy,
and fulfill all household duties: cooking, cleaning, washing and
entertaining. As I had anticipated, I was also expected to fulfill any
sexual request made by my master. It was as he explained this to me that I
began to regret telling him I had no limits, as he also explained that if I
refused a single request from him, he would kick me out immediately. In
return, he would keep me, feed me, pay my living expenses and supply me
with anything I needed. To an attention-starved country boy, this seemed a
more than fair deal, and I gladly accepted and left my family behind.

As I have said, my flight arrived on time, and as I walked briskly through
the terminal, my hands shaking with anticipation, my mind raced with images
of all that would follow. All I knew about my master was that his name was
Dan, he was 50, and that he would be holding a sign with my name - to test
my commitment to this, he refused to show me a picture, describing himself
only as "mature and large", leaving my overactive imagination to fill in
the rest. As for myself, I had sent numerous photos and given him extremely
detailed descriptions of my body - 5'7", well muscled with golden tanned
skin, boyish blonde hair and green eyes. My nipples are large and fairly
dark, and I have a dark patch of hair leading to my crotch, where there is
fairly dense dark hair covering my paler skin. My cock is an average 6"
long, uncut, but my balls are extremely big, hanging low and larger than
golfballs. I also explained to him that they are very sensitive, and the
slightest hit is painful. This amused him greatly, and I began again to
wonder exactly what he had in store for me.

As I stepped out into the waiting area, I was approached immediately by a
large, husky man dressed in a long jacket and jeans. He was at least 6'3,
and large was an understatement - his arms were almost as thick as my
chest, and thoroughly muscled, as was the rest of his body, with the
exception of a noticeable beer belly, the bulge of which was visible even
under the jacket. He had a very handsome face, with deep blue eyes under
his protruding brow, and a clean cropped grey-white beard. His hair was
slightly receding, and fading to a light grey, but the look suited him and
despite the 32 year age gap I was immediately attracted to him. We looked
each other over briefly, before he greeted me with a firm handshake and led
me outside to his car. As the realisation that I was about to change my
life forever dawned on me, he began asking more questions - how I was, how
my flight had been, idle small talk. I was suddenly shy and didn't respond
with more than a few words to his questions, but he did his best to comfort
me, promising that I would love his house and enjoy my stay. Thankfully,
the drive only took about 15 minutes, and when we got out of the car at his
place, he led me quickly through the moon-lit grounds and inside the large
house. Slightly disoriented, I only took in glimpses of my surroundings -
wood panelling, richly carpeted floors, tasteful decoration - the man I was
with seemed very out of place in his heavy dark jacket.

I was led into a living room and told to take a seat. My master then
produced a typed page from a drawer in the table beside him and handed it
to me.

"This is your contract," he explained. "Read it carefully, because once you
have signed it there is no going back. If you accept, sign it and hand it
back. If you do not, leave immediately."

He spoke with little readable emotion, but his voice was not daunting or
cold, simply stern. I read quickly and carefully, not wanting to miss
anything. The contract was somewhat more demanding than I had imagined, but
I was excited by his additions rather than repelled. The rules of my
servitude were such: I was to ensure the house was kept in a perfect
condition at all times. All meals were to be personally cooked by me and
served whenever Master demanded them. Furthermore, I was to serve drinks
and food at any engagements my Master organised, and comply with any
request from any guest unless told not to by Master. So far, so good, I
thought. The next line was a surprise, although having been told not to
being clothes I had imagined something similar: I was not allowed to wear
any items of clothing inside the house unless specifically told otherwise
by Master, and excepting the dog collar I would be given. When going
outside, which I could only do with express permission from Master, I was
to wear only clothes selected by Master, and I was to keep the collar on at
all times. Finally came the clauses relating to my sexual obligations: I
was to comply with any request given by Master, in any location and any
time. Given that I had told him I had no limits, there were no excuses for
non-compliance, and so this would result in extremely severe punishment and
immediate expulsion. In exchange I would be put up and fed free of charge,
any costs would be paid and a small allowance would be given. Feeling this
fair, I signed and returned the papers, knowing that my life as a sex slave
was about to begin.

Master put the contract back in the drawer and looked me over again.

"Boy, you are required to be naked in this house from this point
forward. Strip, now." he commanded from his armchair. I stood, shaking like
a leaf, and began to slide my t-shirt over my head. Having done so, I
looked at him, but he made no response, so I continued to unbutton my jeans
and slide them down. Since this was my first real sexual experience, I had
an enormous erection and it was plainly visible in my tight white briefs,
which I slid down too. I stood now before my new Master totally nake and
vulnerable, waiting for my next instruction.

"At my feet, boy," I was told, and I crouched by his bare feet quickly,
tentatively looking up at him. He violently lifted his right foot into my
balls, sending me rolling back moaning.

"Boy, your body is now my property. I will treat it however I want and
without respect to how you feel. Am I clear?" I whispered out a "Yes, sir."

"I understand you have had no sexual experience. Your training will begin
right now. I will teach you to please a man in every possible way. You will
do what I say when I say it, and you will be glad to do it. Begin by
licking my feet boy, and do it well or I will punish those big balls you're
so proud of."

With that, I quickly crawled to his feet and lowered my mouth to them. Both
disgusted and excited, I kissed his toes, letting my tongue run over
them. He warned me to start licking or I'd be punished, so I begin sliding
my tongue over the top of his feet, pushing it between his toes, sucking on
them. Never before in my life had I felt this way, so utterly vulnerable
and humiliated, but never had I been so turned on. The longer it went on,
the more enthusiastic my efforts were and the harder my cock got. I worked
over his feet for at least 5 minutes while he relaxed in his chair before
another quick kick to my balls knocked me back. Master stood before me and
unbuttoned his jeans, dropping them to the floor. His underpants, which
were stained, and smelled of cum and piss, barely covered his thick member,
which was still soft and already 6" long. He hooked a finger under the
waistband and dropped these too. Suddenly overtaken by lust, I leaned
forward and took his cock into my mouth, tasting salty precum for the first
time. Immediately I felt his foot on my nuts again, and this time his kick
was so hard I screamed out loud as I fell backwards.

"Bitch!" he yelled. "I told you to do what you were told, not what you
wanted to do! You are going to be punished for this, boy!"

He lifted me by the hair and, sitting down again, threw me over his
knee. Without warning, his hand connected hard with my soft ass, and I was
spanked for the first time ever. Again and again he hit my butt, going
harder and faster with every hit til I was begging for mercy. After what
seemed like hours of pain, with tears rolling down my cheeks, he stopped.

"I hope you have learnt from this boy, do only what I tell you. But since
you seem so keen to rush on, I guess I will have to skip this pathetic
warm-up and move on to some harder stuff."

He lifted me up again and led me across the room and down a flight of
stairs into a basement. Here the walls were bare plaster, and the floor was
metallic. The room housed an assortment of large metal and wood
contraptions, and on the walls hung various leather objects. In the centre
of the room was a worn double bed, decorated with dried on stains.

"Get on, pig." I was ordered, and with a hard push from behind, I did just
that....