City Analyst to Naked Property

The Two Masters

I looked at the clippers and toyed with it over and over again. Trying to get some divine intervention to prevent this. But it did not come. No one could rescue me from my continuing humiliation. And so reluctantly, desperately, with tears welling in my eyes, I rang the front desk of the apartment buildings. My apartment was based in the trendiest part of town, and contained all of the facilities demanded of top city executives such as myself. I called the front desk and spoke to George, an older negro guy who I had known since I moved in and who was general assistant for the residents in any matters of help that we needed. He was kind of a dogsbody and although I had always liked him, I had always looked down on him. I asked him to come up to my apartment, and contemplated the fact internally that George was from now on far superior to me. He was not an owned slaveboy like me.

"Evening Mr Walker Sir", chirped George as I ushered him into my apartment. "What can George do for you Sir?"

"Er thanks George. I got a kinda unusual request for you George."

"Oh you know me Sir, anything I can do to help."

"Well its just that I..." I hesitated and closed my eyes, willing the words that I did not want to say to escape my mouth. "I am doing something for charity George and I wondered if you would help me. You see, I need to use these clippers and shave my hair off. All of it, just need it to be shaved down to a stubble all over. Could you do it for me George?"

I sat barechested and barefoot in the kitchen, wearing only my football shorts as George removed my hair. His raised eyebrows had made me redden, but he went about his task silently and diligently. Despite my best efforts, I was shaking with embarrassment as I watched my beautiful hair fall around me to the floor. My blond locks had often been commented on by the women, and now they lay on my kitchen floor. They were part of my identity but now they were gone, along with another part of my manhood. Despite myself, I felt the unmistakeable sting of tears again, and a tear silently dropped down my cheek and fell onto my thigh.

Rubbing my eyes, I thanked George when he had finished and handed him a note as payment. I could feel a change in my status already and dared not look in the mirror as I stared down at the floor. I was no longer the cocky superior to this man. He stuffed the note solemnly into his overall and shook his head.

"You know Mr Walker, it sure changes your looks. Can't understand why a guy like you would do such a thing. Makes you look like a boy. Usually when a guy does this for charity, he does it in front of his audience. And I never seen a guy crying before when he does it." He looked deep into my eyes and sensed my submission, watching as I dropped my eyes in shame and then he shook his head and left. As I closed the door, I realised that the Sir had been dropped from his address to me and his face contained a hint of superiority over me.

I looked down at my football shorts, coated in hairs. With a sigh, I pulled them off and tossed them to one side. Wearing only my underwear, I turned to the mirror and looked at my reflection. I was shocked at the transformation. Instead of a successful businessman and jock athlete, I stared at the face of a slave. I looked like a convict and I ran my hand over my stubbly head, the ridges and bumps outlined in its bald state. Gone was the jock boy. Staring back at me was the gaunt face and red eyes of a humiliated boy. Eyes that betrayed my shock and desperation and humiliation. I looked every inch a thug. A low life. I could not even contemplate how I could go to work tomorrow as I stared at the monstrous stubble.

My desperation was disturbed by the sound of a key in the lock. As I turned, I faced Anna and my humiliation plumbed new levels as she looked at me. Stood there in only my white CKs and with my head shaved, I faced my former girlfriend. The woman who I had hoped to marry one day.

She stared open mouthed and looked me up and down. "Jesus Gary, I came to talk things through. But look at you. What are you? Some sort of gay skinhead? Fuck me. Forget it." She threw the key at me and exited with a slam.

I collapsed in a heap. My life was collapsing around me and he had only owned me for a matter of hours. Why me? Why was he doing this to me? Alone and in the depths of despair I thumped my fists against my stubbled head. This was all so unfair and so unnecessary. I had done my tasks as he had ordered and yet I felt sick inside. With no prospect of any improvement tomorrow, I imagined walking into my office at work with my stubbled head. I imagined Lewis walking in and greeting me, and me answering him with 'Yes Master'. Lying practically naked on my kitchen floor, I collected my thoughts and sat up. I shuddered with dread.

...

It was normally a five minute drive to work in my sports car, but as I dressed the following morning I realised that my car park permit was irrelevant. My personal parking space in the garage under our office block would remain empty today and I would be walking to work from now on. My shaved head on permanent display. I stood under the shower and my heart lurched as I rubbed my hands over my head and felt the stubbled remains of my hair. I could only hope that the directors would somehow approve of my haircut, and that Lewis would not humiliate me in the presence of others at work.

I towelled myself dry and heard the buzz of my mobile phone as I did so. I closed my eyes in frustration at the knowledge that it would be Lewis. It was a stark message from him. I sat naked on my bed and dragged the towel across my exposed cock and balls. I read the text silently. "LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING SHAVED HEAD SLAVE BOY. MEET ME IN YOUR OFFICE WHEN YOU ARRIVE. SLAVES DON’T USE LIFTS." I sighed in resignation. It was clear that he revelled in humiliating me, and I could only imagine what would happen when I arrived in my office with him. The lift comment was completely unfair as well, as I worked on the 20th floor of the office block. I had never even seen the stairs.

Deep in thought I pulled on my socks and pulled up my designer underwear. I pulled out my expensive silk shirt and tie and placed it on before turning to my trousers. As I pulled one leg into my trouser, I cried out in anguish. "Fuck! Fuck you, you bastard!" I had forgotten that underwear was not allowed for me any more. Removing my trousers I pulled down my underwear and tossed them to one side. I pulled up my suit trousers again over my naked crotch and put on my shoes. I stood up and felt my cock rub against the scratchy inside of my suit trousers. As I looked at myself in the mirror, an involuntary sob escaped me. I always felt so smart, so invincible in my office clothing. Now as I looked at my reflection, I felt only the mark of slavery on me. My stubby ridiculous head looked back at me and all the rich boy clothing in the world couldn’t hide it. Hairless and without underwear, I felt somehow exposed. Vulnerable. Inferior.

I walked towards the mirror, checking if my free swinging dick could be seen under my suit trousers. I wasn’t sure if it could be seen, but I could certainly feel it there. It would be a constant reminder of my position.

I left my apartment early to start the walk to work. Passing George in the hallway, I felt my face redden and I bowed my head as I walked through the hallway. His normal, cheerful Morning Mr Walker was replaced with a solemn stare as he watched me pass.

I walked out and into the streets of the central business district of the city, passing businessmen like myself. Dressed like myself, but wearing underwear and possessing hair on their head. Staring at the ridiculous combination of a smartly dressed man with a stubble hair cut. I felt the cold of the morning on my bare head, the wind passing over my shaved stubble. I felt my free hanging cock and balls swinging as I walked and it made me feel exposed. The difference between myself and the other businessmen that I passed was as stark as if I was naked and I was already beginning to realise that the world of corporate business could not possibly accept someone like me. How could I stand in front of a client like this? How could I focus on representing the company at a business lunch when I looked like a convict? How could I meet up for a squash session with a client when I was no longer allowed underwear?

With a sick feeling in my stomach I reached our office building, pausing to notice my sports car in position in my parking space. Clearly Lewis had used it for his journey to work this morning.

I walked up the main steps and into the foyer, head down, veins in my forehead pulsing violently from the extreme humiliation I felt. I could not look at the secretary on the main desk, though I knew that she must be staring at me. Often I would stop and flirt with her as I passed, and she would giggle at my jokey comments. The other men in the office had commented that she had a crush on me and was always talking about my stunning looks. I could only imagine what she thought now as she looked at the stubbly bald head of a slave. Alpha jock boy? No more.

It was only as I walked towards the lift that I realised Master’s orders and that I must walk up the stairs. I looked around and saw the stairs in the other corner, past her desk. Silently, steeling myself, I walked head down past her desk. My footsteps echoing on the marble floor was the only sound as I almost ran in humiliation past her.

I felt a sense of impending doom as I walked up the twenty flights of stairs. I wanted to keep walking. To never reach the suite of offices that would bring me face to face with my tormentor and owner. To never reach the suite of offices that contained my subordinate office workers. As I climbed upwards, my heart sank as I considered my thoughts. How could I consider my office workers as my subordinates any more? They had not been forced to finish with their lover. They were no doubt wearing underwear. They no doubt were allowed hair on their heads. They were no doubt free to do as they wished, rather than learning to accept that their future was one of slavery. It was all just unbelievably cruel and unfair.

As I finally reached my floor I took a deep breath before opening the office doors. I was used to stepping out of the lift confidently, striding past the open plan office workers with a cheery Good morning and feeling my superiority over them as I entered my office. I was used to someone bringing me a coffee as I hung up my jacket and switched on my top-of-the-range iMac Pro.

I walked through the office doors and scuttled through the main office area. They were all there. They did not speak but looked at me in amazement as I passed them. I knew that I looked ridiculous. I knew that my red face had been compounded by the twenty flights I had just climbed. I could feel my sweaty genitals sticking to my suit trousers as I pushed my way silently through the office, past their amazed and silent expressions, and entered the relative safety of my own office. As I turned and pushed the door closed behind me, I heard a snigger of laughter in the main room, and a cry of mock indignation as Russell – one of the office boys – shouted "What the fuck is that about? Christ, what does he look like?" I closed the door to a chorus of quiet laughter.

Mentally exhausted I removed my jacket like an automaton, hanging it on the door. I looked at the sweat patches on my normally immaculate suit and wiped the perspiration from my stubbly head before turning and noticing Lewis sat on my office settee. He didn’t even look at me as he leafed through a magazine. "Morning slave", he stated in a matter-of-fact way. "Get in the bathroom."

I closed my eyes momentarily. Would this constant humiliation never end? "Yes Master", I replied before moving quickly into my office’s ensuite bathroom. "And you know what you will be wearing when I get in there."

I scuttled into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. Keep the door open, he snarled and I obediently opened it again. In a daze, I stood there in the small toilet space and began to undress. Like some cheap whore, I removed my footwear, my shirt, tie and trousers to stand there naked in my own office ensuite, staring into the office at the man who owned me.

He left me standing there for five minutes before he put down his magazine and came into the bathroom. He stood before me dressed in his suit, and I noticed his immaculately groomed hair. I felt my nudity like never before, displayed naked before a fully dressed man. I fought a feeling of inner disgust as I felt myself kneel before him as he entered and smirked at my appearance.

He snorted in derision. Learning your place slowly boy. I knelt head down as he pushed his fingers through the stubble on my head. "Nice job slave, you beginning to look more like a slave boy", he stated – calmly and matter-of-factly, as if this was a normal everyday occurrence. "I presume Anna is now history."

"Yes Master", I whispered. I wanted to stand and punch him for what he had done and yet somehow, being naked in this position in my own office – the office that I had worked so hard to gain over the past seven years of Oxford education and graft through the office ranks – I felt more humble and ashamed and humiliated than I could deal with.

"That’s what I like to hear. An obedient slave boy. Will serve you well in your ordeals to come to remember that."

He reached behind him and produced a small bag. "Clothes in here", he snarled. I looked up in confusion, and then reluctantly picked up my ironed clothes from the floor and pushed them into the bag. With a laugh of contempt, he took the bag from my hands and exited the bathroom, closing the door behind him. And I knelt there naked. If anyone came in here now, I could not get dressed. I was entirely at his mercy. I was entirely under his control. The way he liked it.

I don’t know how long I was in there. My heart pounded as several employees came in and spoke to Lewis, clearly working at my computer and sat at my desk. I heard him laugh with one of the younger males, discussing the football and the golf at the weekend. I held my breath so as not to make a noise.

It must have been over an hour before he came into the bathroom. An hour of kneeling naked imprisoned in the bathroom. He looked down at me, kneeling naked and shivering in the cold of the air conditioned room. "I’ve been doing some research on your accounts slave. I’ve called Bernard down to have a meeting with me in ten minutes. And I want you to be at the meeting slave."

I looked up at him puzzled. What was he planning? I had no doubts that my cruel tormentor had further plans to intimidate and bully me. It would not be a conventional meeting.

"Don’t look so worried boy. We are going to be adjusting your career plans and I think it’s only fair that you should be present when we do that. I have outlined a new career plan for you slave."

I felt my heart sinking. I had always held the upper hand over Lewis. I was harder working, I was more intelligent. I was regarded as higher status. The irony was not lost on me now as I considered my new status, but I also considered the fact that he now held my entire future in his hands. I was powerless to do anything to resist his plans for me.

He smiled as he noticed the recognition across my face. He knew I understood the certain knowledge that my promising career was about to be handed over to him, and my own future lay in the hands of him as my new Master. "Hey don’t worry slave boy", he cooed rubbing his hands across my stubbled head and down across my chest. "I will give you the chance to interrupt me at any time as I outline it for Bernard. Just speak up if you disagree with anything and we can discuss it."

"Now lets go and get ourselves comfortable. Its going to be a fairly intense meeting boy", he opened the door and walked into the office. I stood still and looked at him.

"My clothes Master?" I begged.

He laughed. "I’ve told you boy, you only get clothing when I allow it. Now get out here."

Terrified and vulnerable, I stumbled into my office stark naked. Lewis motioned me towards my desk and I stood there naked as he reclined in my leather seat. "Oh, I forgot to mention where you would be spending the meeting boy", he stated as he typed a password into my computer. "Get yourself down here under this mighty big desk." He clicked his fingers and motioned me down behind the desk.

It was almost a relief to crawl into the space under the desk, though the sudden realisation hit me that I would be spending the meeting as a naked slave. I could not begin to contemplate how ashamed I would feel lying there naked when my manager Bernard came in. He would not see me there, but nevertheless it would be an intense humiliation to know he was discussing business with Lewis, as I lay naked at Lewis’s feet. And the business would undoubtedly be how they could change my life.

Lewis looked down at me and moved me into position so that I lay face up at his feet. I stared up at his suited body as I lay naked on the carpet under my desk and watched as he removed his shoes and placed them to one side. "Open your mouth boy", he snarled.

And without a word of warning, he placed one of his socked feet over my cock and balls. The other he placed over my open mouth. He wriggled his toes over my naked cock, and then over my mouth. I could smell the aroma of a man’s feet filling my nostrils and open mouth, his damp sock against my shocked teeth and I shuddered in self loathing and humiliation. A successful jock boy, I lay naked under my new owner’s feet and prepared to learn my fate.

He looked down and laughed. "All about learning your place slaveboy. You comfortable?" I looked up at him, my eyes sad and tearful, my mind reeling in the abject horror of my predicament. He pressed down his foot on my genitals and repeated "Comfortable boy? Speak when your Master speaks to you."

"Uuuth Mttther", I gagged, my mouth restricted under his sock and my tongue flicking involuntarily on the underside of his sock as I tried to speak.

"Good. And don’t forget that you are allowed to speak up and contradict me at any stage if you don’t agree with my career plans for you."

I groaned inwardly. "uuuth mtther" I repeated pathetically. There was no way that I would be interjecting, revealing myself naked to my boss, under the feet of my new Master and the guy who was clearly tightening his stranglehood over what remained of my life.

I held my breath in anguish as I heard a brief knock and the sound of Bernard entering the office. "Hello Lewis, where’s Gary today then?" He boomed as he sat down in front of my desk. I could just make out the bottoms of his shoes as he sat literally inches from my naked body.

"Well that’s what I need to talk to you about Bernard", Lewis retorted. And sadistically, he ran his socked foot across my open mouth and pushed his toes inside my mouth.

Is this really happening to me? Am I really lay naked under my own office desk, my hair reduced to stubble and a guy’s feet kneading my mouth and genitals, my mouth gagged full of the stuffy smell of his feet? Am I really inches away from the feet of my boss and my controller, who are about to discuss my future and there is nothing I can do about it?

"Gary’s been having a bad time of it recently Bernard."

"Really? I haven’t noticed anything."

"Yeah I know, I have been covering up for him. I have been doing a lot of his work on top of my own work to try and keep his customer accounts in order. But its reached a stage where he just doesn’t feel he can carry on." I rolled my eyes in frustration at Lewis’s arrogance and deception. Presenting himself as the hero at my expense.

"I am shocked at Gary, Lewis. I didn’t realise there was anything wrong with him, or that you two were so close."

"O we are inseparable Bernard. Gary depends on me now", he stated with a sincerity that belied the fact that he was resting his socked feet on my humiliated, naked body.

"You see Bernard – between me and you – Gary and Anna have separated."

"Ah, oh dear. That’s always difficult for young couples who are so much in love. It’s always difficult. And they were such a nice couple. He must be devastated", Bernard sighed with an obvious compassion for me.

"Well actually it was Gary that finished it." Lewis paused and then delivered his devastating blow. "You see, umm, you see... Gary’s been hiding the fact for a while now that he's umm... he's gay..."

Lying perfectly still under the table, I felt my stomach turn over as he lied to my boss. I wanted to scream that I was not gay. I was a hetero straight jock, I was the alpha male around here, not a queer, But I remained motionless and silent. Standing up naked under Lewis’s desk would not be a wise move. And the bastard knew the devastation he was causing, as he clenched his toes up and down on my genitals. A further sign that he controlled me completely and wanted to display his total power over my shattered life.

Bernard was silent for a moment. "Does anyone else know this? About Gary being... you know... being gay?"

Lewis leaned forward and murmured conspiratorially "Well, the thing is Bernard, he’s having a bit of a breakdown about it. He’s totally confused. He’s shaved his head like some homo skinhead. Done some other stuff as well. Been sleeping around with guys behind Anna’s back. All sorts of stuff. The football team don’t know half of what their captain gets up to with other guys. If they did, they certainly wouldn’t shower with him. His head is all screwed up." He reached down under the desk as if he was scratching his foot, and with his growing confidence in his control over me, grabbed hold of my cock and stroked it up and down gently as Bernard continued.

"O my God Lewis!" Bernard was horrified. "I... I really feel for the boy, but... well... umm we can't have him here like that. In his position... I think he can seriously undermine the reputation of the company."

"I know Bernard. I know", simpered Lewis, running his fingers over my cock head and scratching its underside. "Well I have been thinking about it and I have discussed it with Gary, well at least I tried. But in the end he didn’t want to lose the progress he has made since he joined the company... but..."

"But what? Go ahead then", Bernard replied, his chair creaking as he adjusted himself.

Despite the fact that my career had just joined my private life in tatters, I had to admire Lewis. He was good. He had concocted a whole scenario and – as he knew would happen – Bernard was falling for it hook, line and sinker. I lay there in naked misery and awaited the conclusion of Lewis’s plan. Gritting my teeth, I closed my eyes as I felt my straight male cock hardening to the touch of another man, my Owner, as Lewis gently teased it with his fingers. I waited to see what would become of my hard-worked-for and so promising career.

Lewis released my cock and moved his hand above the table. In misery, I heard it slap down erect on my abs and looked down at my naked body in horror. In seconds, my view was stopped by Lewis’s sock, as once more he ran his toes across my mouth. "But... you wouldn’t want Gary to be seen in the office the way he looks Bernard. He did come in this morning and some of the staff saw him. Caused quite a murmur. I managed to get him downstairs"

"Oh god! well done Lewis! Good to know I can rely on you in a situation like this."

"Well, I will go and try to speak with him when you have gone upstairs again, if you agree to my proposal. I have a plan to keep him out of the sight of clients, permanently."

"I am open to suggestion Lewis," Bernard was listening intensely.

"Yes well I am doing it for Gary’s welfare really Bernard. Anyway, we need him out of the way until he calms down. Gets his head sorted. And I know you wouldn’t want to see him out of work. He is unemployable the way he is at the moment."

I shifted uncomfortably, desperate to remove the taste of man feet from my mouth and desperate to control my cock. No man had ever touched my cock, let alone stroked it like Lewis had just done. It wasn’t what footballers did. It wasn’t my style.

"No indeed not, we must look after him Lewis. He has been a good worker for the company."

"Well, I think you know, Bernard, that my mate is Dennis the caretaker. I went to school with him and I usually have a chat with him at some stage every week. I know that, as senior management, we need to keep the cleaning staff happy don’t we?"

Bernard murmured an approval and my confused mind raced as to where this was heading. "I thought it would be a good idea to get Gary doing something that didn’t require any thought. You know, a job where he can work alone and just get on with things quietly. So I’ve had a word with Dennis and he is prepared to have him helping him out as his assistant caretaker. You know - some basic painting, gardening, maintenance, toilet cleaning. That sort of thing. Obviously, we would pay him at that basic rate as well. I really think Gary needs to get out of managerial work and I feel he would benefit from a more menial role at the moment. So we would be looking after his interests. If he gets better, we can get him back up here on the management level. I will monitor the situation."

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! Oxford graduate and management trainee of the year, and I was facing the prospects of being a caretaker and gardener until Lewis decided otherwise. And who was this Dennis? It was unbelievable. My earnings and salary were massive, way above the norm for even successful guys of my age and now Lewis had volunteered me to take the wages of a basic manual worker. It would be a crippling loss of finance, and I couldn’t afford any of my current lifestyle if it came to pass. My car? Apartment? Holidays? Weekends out? Gold Gym membership? All the trappings of wealth that I had built up.

My thoughts were interrupted as Lewis removed his socked foot from my mouth, slipping on his stylish brogues. "I’m pleased you agree Bernard. I think its just right. Just leave it to me. Its for the best for Gary. I’ll take care of everything including his wages."

Bernard and Lewis exchanged a few pleasantries, oblivious to the naked jock boy whose life was destroyed, lying miserably under his former desk. Ironically, I felt a dribble of precum drop down from my slit onto my abs, as my cock ached for release after its torment from Lewis. Even my cock betrayed me now. I had not had the chance to wank for days, and I rued the thought that my fuck with the girl on Saturday had been its last release. The start of my misery.

As the door opened, I listened dejectedly as Bernard stated "You know Lewis, there have been times when I have thought you were too career-minded to progress to senior management, not enough compassion. But you have impressed me today with what you have shown for Gary, taking care of him like this. I think this may be an opportunity for you to progress. Move your stuff into this office and take care of Gary’s accounts. We will review the situation if Gary returns. Good work Lewis!"

Lewis professed his thanks and ushered Bernard out of the door before coming around the desk and sitting on the chair. He looked down at me, grovelling naked on the floor and his eyes moved down to the precum oozing from my engorged fat dick. His eyes widened and he started to chuckle. And then he sat back in his chair and openly laughed. Despite all of the humiliations, all of the degradation, my face reddened again and I felt the pangs of despair. No man had ever seen me displayed naked and erect. Guys didn’t do that. It was super queer. And now, I lay sprawled naked at his feet, erect and displayed like a common bitch.

I stared at his face. He was a sadist. He clearly revelled in what he had done to me, he loved the visible destruction of my manhood before his very eyes and now he had taken my job. I had done nothing wrong and yet my life was in complete ruins. I was broken. My relationship was over, my job was over, my image was ruined and I could not afford to keep my home or car. All in one weekend.

"Glad you are pleased with your career change boy. You certainly look very excited", he chuckled nodding at my erect cock. "I am certainly pleased with my new office. Now we need to get you sorted to start your new job so you had better get back into the toilet again." He kicked my thigh. "Come on slave. Up you get."

I rose to my feet and scuttled naked into the bathroom, covering my cock with my hands as I went. I knelt on the cold tiles and waited for Lewis to enter, my rage boiling over as the ramifications of his actions in ruining my life began to slot in place in my mind.

He stood before me and sneered at me, as my cock sank downwards again in defeat.

"You won't get away with this Lewis", I snarled, looking up at him. "You may think you are destroying me but I am still a man. I still have rights. I know you’ve got me kneeling nude in submission in front of you now. But I will get my life back. Somehow, I will find a way out of this and I will destroy you completely when that day comes."

He laughed aloud. "My dear slaveboy, don’t be ridiculous. Your life as a man is over and it is never returning. I have you right where I want you. My master plan is all fitting nicely into place. And you are completely powerless to do anything about it. The only way you will ever serve a useful existence from now on is as my slave and as the days slip into months you will learn a new existence as my naked property. The sooner you learn that, the easier it will be for you accept your new status."

He leaned down before me, and placed a finger under my chin. He raised my face so that my eyes met his eyes. "You only have me now boy. When I have sorted you out with Dennis, I will be changing your salary. And of course, as a slave, you don’t get paid for work. So your money will be re-routed from today into my bank account slaveboy. Money is irrelevant to a slave. You won’t be getting any pocket money of your own from now on. Your measly manual wage will all come to me as Your owner. You will from now on be penniless."

His eyes bored deep into mine as he tightened the control further inside my mind. "So, you had better be nice if you want some pocket money for food and clothes eh?"

I knelt naked on the floor and pushed my hands down in front of me, collapsing in a ball on the tiles. I sobbed aloud, the reality of my complete dependence on him now beginning to hit home. I looked up at his suited body, towering above me in the doorway and grinning down at me. I looked up at him in anguish, tears rolling down my face and drool pooling on the floor from my open sobbing mouth.

"Please Lewis. Please Master. Please let me go Sir. Please don’t do this to me. I don’t deserve this treatment. Please let me free. Let me start again somewhere else. You have won. You have beaten me. Let me go please Sir. I can’t live like this. I can’t cope with this humiliation Sir. I am a man. I am a successful man with my whole life ahead of me. All my dreams, my future. Please Master, please don’t take them away from me."

Lewis watched me, grovelling and begging on the floor at his feet. And he rose himself up to his full height, no doubt drinking in my degradation with relish. He paused and waited until my anguished sobs had subsided.

"The more you beg me boy, the more I enjoy it. I haven’t finished yet boy. Lots more to do before I have you fully in the position that I want you in. Welcome to slavery boy! Welcome to slavery!", and with a laugh, he re-entered his office and sat down at his new desk.

Was he affected by my destruction? Did he feel remorse at my naked grovelling before him? My answer was soon answered as I heard him press the intercom. "Sarah, can you bring me a coffee? Oh, and can you arrange for all of my files to be brought from my desk in the open plan office. This is my new office now."

He sat back at my desk and looked across at me, prostrate on the floor. With a wink at my upturned humble eyes, he crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back on his chair. "Life is good slaveboy. Life is good," he grinned.

...

I lay there naked and shaking in both fear and frustration on the floor. I was physically and emotionally drained. Lewis met Sarah at the office door for his coffee, and on his way back stopped half way across the carpet. Looking at me grovelling on the floor he tutted and shook his head. "I think your new naked status is the real you now slave, don’t you?"

I raised my head from the cold tiles and murmured "Yes Master." I was exhausted mentally as well as physically, my mind contorting in desperate scenarios of how I could try and escape my inevitable slide into slavery.

I heard him pull at something, and the sound of breaking glass. He had ripped one of my pictures from the office wall. He came and stood before me, and carefully pulled the picture out of the broken frame. He sat down on the toilet, and motioned for me to turn and kneel in front of him. "Regular hero weren’t you boy?" he smiled, turning the picture around and showing me. It was my prized picture: the montage from last year’s City Cup Final. Three pictures of myself: one scoring a goal, the other being shouldered off by my teammates and the third showing me lifting the cup. The stuff that boyhood dreams are made of. I looked at the delight on my face. I noticed my muscular legs on the pitch, my athletic body and muscular arms. I noticed my head of full hair. I noticed myself as a free boy, carefree and heroic, with all my mates surrounding me. In desolation, I closed my eyes and noticed the new me. The slave.

I looked up at the sound, as slowly and deliberately he began to rip the photograph into small pieces. "Well unfortunately our hero is no more. He has gone for good, and has been replaced by a poor trapped naked slaveboy." I sniffed and tried to hold back my tears, hold back some dignity, as he lifted the toilet seat and flushed away my past down the toilet.

With a grin, he reached onto a shelf in the toilet and pulled something out.

He threw an item of clothing at me. "Get dressed", he snarled and turned back into his office. HIS office. Not mine anymore. His career had just taken a turn for the better. My career was ended and henceforth I would work for no wages as a maintenance man. I shook my head in frustration and disbelief. My momentary rebellion was squashed before it began and I stood naked and unfurled the rough material in my hands.

I unfolded the garment and stared at it. It was a pair of flesh coloured dungarees, complete with straps that came over the shoulders and fastened to buttons on the front of the garment. No pockets. No style. The sort of dungarees a young child would wear, even down to the fact that they would reach to just above my knees. A simple garment made of a coarse material that would signal once and for all my status as a manual worker, dressed in simple work clothing. Not even a manual worker, I would even look like a slave of olden times in simple, basic slave clothing. I was used to the finest clothes and the fashionable garment of a well paid and athletic jock in the prime of his youth, not the simple garments of a common slave. I looked on the floor for the T-shirt but there was none. Silently, humbly, I slipped my bare legs into the garment and pulled it over my bare genitals, the coarseness of the material immediately making me adjust my cock and balls to avoid rubbing. I looked out of the door at Lewis, sat in his immaculate suit on his new chair at his new desk and looked back at my own ridiculous clothing. We were in different worlds.

"There doesn’t appear to be a shirt Master", I murmured, immediately startled at the humble and deferential way that I was speaking to him.

"Slaves don’t need shirts. Count yourself lucky that I am covering your cock boy. Do your straps up."

"Yes Master", I snivelled and pulled the braces over my shoulders to fasten them in front. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and shook my head in amazement. My family and friends would not have recognised the stubbled freak who looked back through the mirror. Bare chested, my bare chest and arm muscles bulging like some cheap stripper dressed in work gear. And I looked down in horror to see the outline of my large cock and duck egg size balls clearly in view at the front of my tight, cheap dungarees. The straps had no means of adjusting themselves and so it seemed I was destined to display the obscene outline of my genitals. I felt practically naked as I walked into the office and stood before my Master. I was indeed entirely naked apart from the obscene dungarees, not even given any footwear. Even my arse seemed exposed, no bagginess at all in the fabric meaning that the material followed the contour of my bubble butt as I tried to stretch the fabric from my crack. Below the knees, my exposed calf muscles bulged above my shapely feet. I had always been proud of my legs and feet, totally defined and muscular as a footballer. I had loved to wear shorts to show them off to women and to Anna, but now that they were on forced display I felt sick to my stomach.

Lewis looked up and did a double take. He looked at my package and at the extent to which my upper body was completely on display. Laughing aloud, he jumped to his feet and clapped his hands. I have always been proud of my manhood, I believed I was blessed and destined to be an alpha male. It was my big dick that gave pleasure to so many women that I had been with. But this is different. Right now it was a curse.

"Perfect", he sniggered as he pushed my body to turn in a 360 degree turn for him. "Just perfect. Hope you like it slave boy as it’s the only thing you will be wearing from now on at work. Every day, until it wears out and then we will see if we can get you another one." A simple statement that resounded in my brain, as I realised this was not a one-off humiliation. This was my life from now on. This was my existence.

"Now we need to go down to your new office. Take a good look around because you won't be coming up here again boy. It was mean of me not to save your football memorabilia for you, it’s down the toilet. Still, never mind. Best to move on from your previous life, eh?"

I looked at the space on the wall where my sporting prowess had been displayed, and looked down at my ridiculous slavewear. "You will follow me now as we go down to meet your new boss Dennis. Follow a couple of steps behind me at all times. And don’t forget your manners if I speak to you boy."

I felt the now familiar welling up of panic inside me, as I contemplated the humiliation of walking through the building dressed like this. As the tears pricked the corners of my eyes, I hung my head and replied "Yes Master."

"Come on then boy, lets get you out in public doing some service", he said, jumping to his feet and putting on his expensive jacket. And with a new found confidence he strode towards the door and turned the handle. I followed behind him like an obedient dog, barefoot and dressed in my obscene costume. My stubbly head a beacon that displayed to the world that I had a new status in life.

I entered the corridor outside my old office and my ears pricked up at the noticeable cessation of noise. The office went silent. A telephone rang and I heard it picked up and slammed down as all eyes fixed on my pornographic costume. I kept my head down and tried to control the burning sensation in my cheeks. My teeth chattered and I could feel my whole body convulsing slightly in sick fear at my total humiliation and degradation. Lewis started to walk and I prayed that he would not take me through the middle of the open plan office.

It was, of course, a forlorn hope. I followed behind him silently, humbly, my knees knocking in shame. I felt the silent and curious eyes burning into me, asking what had happened to the office jock. I had been the boss that all of the women flirted with, and all of the men secretly wanted to be. Not any more though. My life as a figure of admiration was well and truly over and could never return after this episode. Reduced to this: a humble slave walking silently and ashamed, a pace behind my controller and tormentor.

As the door approached I wanted to run, escape the humiliation. But Lewis sauntered slowly through the office, letting everyone get a good view of my lewdly displayed body. And my heart missed a beat as he stopped at the door.

He turned and faced the office, and cleared his throat. "Could I have everyone’s attention for a moment please?" he called, unnecessarily in the screaming silence of the office. With a decisive push, and treating me like some retarded infant, he pushed me in my bare chest and slowly turned me around to face the office too.

I would have gladly died rather than stand there, obscenely dressed and barefoot, as Lewis completed my total degradation. "If anyone needs me, I will be gone half an hour. Got to take this boy down to his new job in the caretakers department", he shouted. "Isn’t that right boy?"

I kept my eyes downcast as I whimpered "Yes Sir." I shuddered in abject misery, and my bottom lip quivered in my total degradation. Gratefully, I turned and followed him out of the door and down the hall, giving them all one final glimpse of my thinly veiled arse. Silently I followed like a little boy, my bare feet slapping on the cold tiled floor as we moved towards the lifts.

I followed him into the lift and stood as instructed behind him. We descended to the basement. I had nothing to say to him. I was powerless to do anything. I had no clothing, no job, no money, not even my housekeys anymore as I realised that they were in the bag with my suit upstairs. I looked at his back and hung my head. I realised that he was controlling me completely, and that rather than hatred and rage for him, I was afraid of him and what he had done to me. I wanted to hit him but I couldn’t. I had to obey. He controlled everything.

The lift doors opened as we reached the floor marked BASEMENT and we moved out into a scruffy corridor. I followed Lewis to a locked doorway, and followed him down some steep steps into a basement area. It was almost a hidden floor, certainly an area I had never thought about before.

One wall was a cage mesh, and the wind blew a cold breeze over this unheated basement area. It was a large area consisting of the boilers, various tools and shelves of paints, and some small cupboards containing cleaning equipment. In one corner sat a large, muscular black man, and we moved towards him.

I couldn’t believe what was happening. It was like a scene from a gangster movie. Me following Lewis on an imaginary lead as he walked towards a shady character. This wasn’t the company I usually kept during working hours. Normally I would be arranging a lunch in the city, or organising a round of golf for the late afternoon. But now, like a dog, I followed obediently, my cold feet brushing the harsh concrete floor as I strained through the dim light to get a look at my new workmate, Dennis.

Lewis stopped in front of Dennis, and Dennis reached over to switch off his radio. "Well here he is Dennis", Lewis said. With a chuckle, Dennis stood up and moved towards me. He stood in front of me, looking me up and down before brushing his hand across my stubbled head like I was some sort of animal.

Lewis came and stood at Dennis’s side, and uttered a single word that I did not want to hear.

"Strip."

Lewis glared at me, dressed sharply in his executive suit. I looked back in disbelief: barefoot and exposed as I was, dressed only in my pathetic slave dungarees.

"Take off your little slave suit boy. Bare arsed naked display."

I looked at him. "Sir?"

"Don’t make me repeat myself boy."

I gulped. I looked at Dennis, as if to protest to Lewis that someone else was here. I had understand our arrangement to be a private scenario – even though today had proved this to be far from the case. But there was no doubting what he had said. And so obediently, unquestioningly, I undid my buttons and stepped out of my dungarees. Feeling the shame of two fully clothed men watching me strip naked, I shrugged my dungarees – my only belonging now - to the side of me, stood up stark naked and faced Master Lewis and Dennis.

Dennis ran his eyes up and down my naked flesh. His eyes widened and the cigarette in his mouth glowed as he sucked in air through his thick lips. He chuckled again and walked around me.

"Probably don’t even recognise me boy, do you?" he snarled. "As far as you is concerned I is just a nigger. Aint that right boy?"

I looked at him puzzled. I could not recollect ever seeing him before, and I was certainly not in any way a racist.

"You just walk past me as if I don’t exist when I is painting your name on the wall above your fancy sports car. Catch my eyes but don’t thank me. Pretend I is invisible as you laugh with your fancy city boys."

He glared at me, his face inches from mine and his eyes flashed with anger. His eyes reflected the years of being treated as a second class citizen. Now was his opportunity for revenge. Now he could impose himself. I watched in horror as he hawked some spit in his mouth. As if in slow motion, I reeled back as a gob of his spit was propelled at force out of his mouth, landing square in the centre of my face, between my eyes. Confused, I fell backwards and caught myself in time.

"Get up slave", Dennis screamed and I scrambled to my feet to face him. I opened my mouth to protest, as I pulled my arm across to wipe the spit from my face. But he grabbed it and pulled it down. I stood there, dazed. I blinked my eyes and wriggled my nose to no avail. The ball of spit continued down my cheek and rested on my lip as he continued to shout.

"Walk across my flower beds with your whiteboy city clients. See me working on em but just walk across em anyways. Don’t ask my name. I is just a nigger to you. Not worth looking at for you big hotshot whiteboys."

He stared into my submissive eyes and I dropped my own eyes in dismay, shuddering to think how or when I had obviously upset this man. He poked his finger into his trail of spit, tracing it down my face and pushing it gently through my closed lips. I panted through partly closed lips at the panic of the situation, at the total shock of my debasement, and he pushed his spit through my partly opened lips. I tasted his spit. His thick, slimy, smoky spit coated my tongue.

He laughed as he watched the repulsion on my face. A crackly smoker’s laugh. Then his voice rose in pitch and he continued to rant at me. "Drive past me in your flash whiteboy car in the rain, splash my clothes as you pass by, music blaring."

I looked at Lewis in confusion, and wished I hadn’t. His smug look relishing my uncomfortable silence as I stood naked and confused, my face covered in spit. Unable to retort.

He poked me in my chest. "Well not anymore whiteboy. Not anymore. Not quite so cocky now you is grovelling butt naked in front of me. Now you is eating my spit. I got me the use of my own honky slaveboy now. Some white bitch boy to take out my frustrations on." He roared with laughter, turning to Lewis and sharing the joke with his fellow tormentor. I opened my mouth to speak, to defend myself. I had done no harm to this man but I knew my words would only make matters worse.

Desperately, I closed my eyes as Dennis’s laughter stopped. Why me? Why did I have to suffer as his naked slave to repay his frustrations at his life? I had done nothing to deserve this degradation. I wanted to scream in self-pity. I wanted to beg them to stop. I wanted some comfort. Someone to hold me in their arms and tell me this would all end. Someone to be kind to me.

It didn’t happen.

Dennis narrowed his eyes and moved behind me. Though I felt uncomfortable I remained still, legs spread. I shuddered as I felt his arm wrap onto my abs from behind. With a push to my back he bent me forwards and I stood there stark naked, bent at the waist. He relished his domination over me as I stood there bent at the waist, exposed in this cold basement area.

He chuckled again and I gasped as I felt Dennis spreading my arse cheeks. A rush of cold ran up the crack of my arse and hit my hole. An area of the body that no man displays at any time, and yet here I was naked in front of two men in the basement, my cheeks spread and my arsehole on full display. Involuntarily, I raised myself onto my tiptoes and an audible squeal exited my lips as I felt Dennis’s finger push into my hole. My virgin hole. My straight hole. No one touched my hole. No one.

Until now.

The low deep chuckle sounded again and Dennis’s finger was pulled in and out of my hole, several times. He moved to the side and I stood up and shook my head, adjusting my unsteady, spread legs as I raised my body. This was unreal. I had no privacy, no right to any freedom. No right to stop the degradation. Every minute spelled new humiliations, new depths for me. I stared at Dennis as he appeared in front of me, my desperate eyes appealing for some mercy from him: he had no real axe to grind with me. He need not assist Lewis in my destruction as a man. And yet he had just delighted in exploring my sphincter. He pawed at my naked flesh like I was a piece of cattle, chuckling at my degradation.

Dennis looked older than me, about 30. He clearly worked out at the gym, his old tshirt displaying thick muscles underneath and his exposed arms thick and muscular. His flared nose and thick lips broke into a grin and his eyes danced with amusement as he raised his finger to my lips and gently pushed it into my mouth. Reluctantly, I parted my lips and obeyed his command to suck his finger. I licked his finger clean and tasted the musky taste of my own arse juices for the first time in my life, mixed in with the spit of my black tormentor.

"Yeah Mr Carlton Sir, he’ll do Sir. Nice bit of beef for Dennis this is. I’m going to enjoy training up this whiteboy Sir, teach him his place", he smiled, never taking his brown eyes away from my own gaze as I sucked on his finger.

"Good Dennis. I am pleased to hear that. I think your training will be very important in teaching this arrogant jock boy slave his new position."

Lewis walked over and stood behind Dennis, and then spoke loudly and clearly to confirm my new role. "Now as you may have noticed boy, Dennis is fully aware of your new status in life. You will be spending all of your work time down here with Dennis. I am your Master: he is your boss. You will refer to him as Boss and you will show him all of the respect and obedience that you show me. Understand?"

I nodded emptily, and looked into the sparkling eyes of Dennis, watching in horror as he ran his free hands over my chest and down the front of my body. He licked his lips, clearly revelling at the prospect of his impending total control over my trim, athletic body.

"I didn’t hear you boy", Lewis snarled, his shoe pressing down on my bare foot.

"Yes Sir I understand Sir." I looked down at my feet in dismay and caught a sideways glance at Dennis as he adjusted a clear tent that was evident in his bulging work trousers. Dennis had enjoyed seeing me naked and playing with my straight boy hole...

"No one ever comes down here boy. No one but you and Dennis. You will report here at 8am each day, and leave at 6pm. When you arrive, you will take off your slave clothes and present yourself naked and kneeling to your boss. You will kneel here naked, head bowed and silent until Dennis finds a use for you."

The prospect of this turned my stomach. I had expected some humiliation when I had heard my new job role, but this seemed unbearable. The prospect of starting every day kneeling naked at Dennis’s feet. How low could these sick bastards go in degrading me?

Lewis continued in his Master plan. "Dennis will be your trainer during the day and decide your tasks. He decides if you eat, if you wear clothes, if you get any breaks. His word is law. And if Dennis tells me you are not totally obedient and eager to please him, I will not be impressed boy."

Dennis raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips into a mock kiss. He coughed loudly as he threw his cigarette on the floor. "I run a tight ship down here boy. Don’t think of being late or wearing any clothes when you report to me boy. I want you always butt naked and ready to please me. Understand boy?"

"Yes Boss", I groaned and contemplated life as Dennis’s butt naked slave every day. He appeared to see me as some form of life beneath human. He seemed unconcerned that I was a man, evaluating me as a piece of flesh to be abused. I was truly frightened of spending time alone with this man.

As I contemplated this, I was brought back to reality by his deep voice. "My cigarette needs putting out slave", he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, nodding to the burning stub on the floor.

I stepped sideways and bent down to pick up the cigarette stub.

He stuck out his leg and pushed me backwards with a kick, sending me sprawling backwards onto the cold floor. "Not like that slave. Use your foot to put it out", he snarled.

Uncertainly, I raised myself and moved towards the lit cigarette on the concrete. I closed my eyes and winced in pain as I crushed the lit cigarette under the sole of my bare foot, the indignity of my action hurting my pride as much as my foot.

Dennis grinned at my pained expression. "I hope you aint thinking it is staying there slaveboy", he barked as I jumped visibly.

Miserably, dejectedly, I knelt down and picked up the cigarette butt from the dirty floor. Holding it in the palm of my hand, I came and stood naked before Dennis again and bowed my head. Legs shaking and arms behind my back, I stood before him and bowed my head in submission. I felt like a little boy in front of a stern teacher, waiting to be punished.

Dennis held out his hand and I dropped the butt into his pink outstretched palm. Once more he chuckled, revelling in his power over me. Silently and menacingly, he moved behind me, and my manhood shifted another gear away from me. I felt his hands prying apart my arse cheeks, exposing my hole for the second time. With a gentle push from Dennis, I grunted in horror. I felt the butt being inserted into my arse hole. I felt its warm gritty invasion inside me and I sobbed in desolation. I just could not believe it. The tears flowed freely down my face, mixing with the spit of my tormentor and pooling on the end of my nose and chin.

"Ssssh slaveboy!" the bastard whispered, inches from my inconsolable face. He adopted a tone of mock concern, the way a parent would speak to a small scolded child. "Ssssh! Nothing to get upset about boy. You is serving a purpose for yo Master boy. When you is working down here with me boy, yo slave pussy is my ashtray from now on. Keep that hole clamped shut now boy. I will allow you to empty your pussy at the end of every day, but only when you get home slaveboy", he growled menacingly.

"Yes Boss", I shuddered, instinctively clamping my arsehole closed to hold in the cigarette butt and hating myself for my total submission to this sadist. I reeled at his description of my arse. I had always talked with my mates about pussy, about banging some pussy on a Saturday night. And now I stood before a man who talked about my arse as his pussy. It just seemed incomprehensible to think of me – Gary Walker, football hero, city executive, athletic stud boy – as a black man’s pussy. I thought of my best mate Ben and what he would think if he knew I was now pussy meat, and my face burned in crushing defeat.

Dennis turned around towards Lewis and I saw a sly smile of delight creep over Lewis’s face. He stepped up to me and stood before my naked body. With a smile he snarled, "No one ever shows any respect to Dennis. But you will boy. You will attend to his every need on a daily basis from now on boy. I am sure he will have plenty more uses for a slave like you."

He raised his eyebrows and pushed me down to my knees. "Your duty to Dennis starts tomorrow boy. But this afternoon, you will run back to your apartment." I opened my mouth to tell him about not having the key, and silently he produced it from his back pocket. "When I leave work, I will be coming around to your apartment. When I arrive, I want to see you lying naked, face down on the floor, legs spread wide. When you get back there, you will strip naked. You will then work for the afternoon. You will take all of your clothes and place them in piles on your bed. All of them. You will get any paperwork relating to your life – bills, bank accounts, passport, anything, and place them in a pile on the floor. Do you understand me slave boy?"

"Yes Master", I replied, feeling the rising cold from the rough basement floor in my bare feet.

"Get dressed and run home ashtray", he shouted, reaching behind me and slapping my bare arse with a chuckle.

I hung my head as I dressed, two sets of eyes watching me cover my jock athletic body with my obscene dungarees. The skin-tight fabric of the garment held the cigarette butt firmly in place up my arse chute. I looked up shyly at Master and responded to his nod. Desperate to escape the utter humiliation of the basement, I ran up the stairs and out of the building. My naked feet slapping on the pavement of the city centre as I ran home through the cold, my mind reeling with the humiliations of another day. A day that was far from over.

...

As soon as I arrived home, I stripped out of the slave dungarees and shook my head as I stared at the revolting garment that was to be my work clothing from now on. I noticed with disgust the cheap fabric stained a darker colour around the genital area and the crack of my arse, where the sweat had soaked through on my run home from work. I considered how fortunate I was that none of my neighbours had seen me enter the apartment. This was a select neighbourhood, and generally filled with the higher echelons of city life. I closed my eyes and considered my thoughts: I had to stop considering myself in those terms now. I couldn’t see any way that my lifestyle would continue now that I was a caretaker’s assistant, and an unpaid one at that. I sat up on the bed and looked around the apartment, kitted out as it was in the latest fashions, gadgets and accessories of a modern playboy. It was beginning to feel that this wasn’t my place. My mind seemed to be mentally adjusting itself to the downfall that seemed destined to be imminent.

I collapsed back down again, naked on the bed, and closed my weary eyes. I reached down and grabbed my cock. Since yesterday, my cock had seemed almost constantly exposed as it was now, hardly ever covered by any form of clothing. I was becoming like an animal, my naked flesh always on display. And when I was given permission to wear clothing, it was in the humiliating slave costume. This seemed to have been the first moment when I was alone in my nudity, not displaying my intimate parts to another man. I was glad to have a moment to myself, a moment to recover some normality on my own bed. Normally at times such as this, alone with an hour to spare, I would take the time to play with myself. Get my cock hard and manipulated. Shoot my copious amounts of jockboy cum over my abs and chest before a shower.

With a sudden sickening wrench, I sat bolt upright. I realised that I still had a used cigarette butt up my arse. How could I have forgotten? Just the thought of this horrific realisation, the thought as I lay on my own bed that I had been deflowered in such a barbaric way, made me feel sick. I lay down onto my back again and raised my legs in the air, feeling my semi-hard cock go flaccid against my stomach as I contemplated how I would remove the disgusting cigarette butt. Carefully, the distaste etched on my face, I moved my fingers to my arsehole and pushed one finger into my tight hole, feeling around inside my own arse chute for a cigarette butt. Dennis had done his job well, and the run home had clearly pushed the butt further up my chute. I could not even feel it. I closed my eyes in frustration, and clenched my teeth in rage at this invasion of my manhood. With a sigh, I moved a smaller finger towards my hole.

"Get your hands out of your arsehole boy", a deep voice intoned. At the sound of a voice, I jumped in shock and pulled my hands away from my stretched arse.

Thank you so much for time reading my story. Please let me know what you think of this story by emailing me at [email protected] Audience feedback and encouragement are what makes me get up everyday and write these stories.