Cart horse

Middle aged comfortable lifestyle man has his freedom stripped away and has to accept a new future as a farm animal.

  • Score 8.2 (40 votes)
  • 7181 Readers
  • 606 Words
  • 3 Min Read

I had been stupid, there was no denying it. I  had been careful not to identify my face when emailing him pictures.  Horny fantasies about submission.  Me naked and on full display.  Then somehow I had sent him one via the wrong email account.  My personal email address rather than the anonymous one.  He was quick to take advantage.  The first I knew was when he sent me a pic of my company website.  A picture of me highlighted and a question of what would the directors think if they knew I was a faggot slave?

I turned cold. I cursed myself. I begged him to be reasonable. But he had me where he wanted me and there was no escaping his wishes. My stomach turned as he told me I would be doing as I was told from now on or face the consequences.

I am no spring chicken now. I am in my 40s and a heavy build. I am a successful and wealthy man and only ever looked after myself as a single man. I have never sought relationships, preferring to serve alpha males as their bitch instead. A regular need fulfilled in secret, hidden beneath the outward respectability demanded of society. I had done crazy things serving many dominant men but I always walked back to respectability. To my outwardly normal, comfortable life. All of that would change. And quickly.

It started with daily tasks via video. I begged him to be reasonable but he was insistent that my pictures would be delivered to my workplace if I didn't comply. I had no choice. I installed the cameras around my home as instructed. I started to live naked at home in heavy chains. I slept on the floor, no covers. I knelt in the corner pointlessly for hours. I grew accustomed to drinking my own piss every day. I felt sure he would grow tired of humiliating me and wasting my time. That I could still hide my slavery and live in relative freedom. But as the weeks passed, his enjoyment of using me never waned.

It was a few months later that he offered me a way out. He explained to me the conditions of my release and I shuddered at his cruel plan. It would be a very difficult task but one that I had no choice other than to complete. He told me that I would gain complete freedom at the end of the task. I didn't quite pick up on the nuance of what he meant by freedom.

He outlined his plan. On a cold wintry night I would leave my home stark naked and barefoot other than a locked metal collar around my neck. And attached to this collar would be a tiny pinhole camera so that he could follow me on my arduous task.

He told me that I would be performing a naked marathon. A 27 mile naked run - cross country over fields and down back roads - to a set destination. He would pick me up from this location and return me home to freedom.

After pleading for mercy over several days I realised there would be no lesser sentence and accepted it was a risk I would have to take. The thought of running barefoot and naked away from safety into the night was scary but also made my submissive cock tingle.

I didn't realise that when I shut the door behind me and braced myself naked against the cold that night, I'd never return to a comfortable lifestyle again. A life of the harshest submission and humiliation was my only future.


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