The Collaring

Inspired by a meme I saw while scrolling last week, this story is how a faggot and his Master met and a year later is collared making their arrangement permanent.

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You best be on your best behavior faggot. The bolt can be glued shut at any moment”, Master said as HE placed the cold metal collar around my neck.

“This is all you’ll be needing from now on. Well, this and that lock on your pathetic little dicklet  of yours.”

I met Master almost a year ago at a BDSM event held in one of our local gay bars on jockstrap night. HE was the real deal, 44 yo, 6’4”, 225, bald, thick dark beard, a hairy chest, dark brooding eyes, a hard body, about an eight inch cock. Master could have come out of central casting for a Boundgods porn shoot.

One of my fellow faggot friends took me to the club that night introduced us.

“Oh shit, You know who that is?”, my buddy Pup John asked.

“No, I don’t.”

“That’s because you never get out much. That is Master James! Probably the most popular dom top ever to set foot in this place. Look how all the boys are flocking to  HIM and HE hasn’t even walked two feet in the door”, Pup John said.

“I can see why. Look at HIM. HE’s  built like a fucking tank and looks kinda mean.”

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t say mean. I’d say Master James is strict and has high expectations from HIS boys. HE loves subservient boys like us. I’m sure HE’d be all over breaking you in. You’re just HIS type.”

“How would you know?”, I asked.

“Because I know, ok. Let me introduce you to HIM.”, Pup John insisted.

“HE’s not even going to pay attention to us. HE’s got a swarm around him.”

“Trust me, Billy, you’re just his type. Young, short, blonde, smooth, caged, passive, eager, practically a virgin…he’d have a field day with you. Isn’t this what you dream about? Having a Master?”

“Yes, I guess so.”

“So, come with me. You’ll thank me for it later.

As we approached Master James I could feel myself becoming so nervous. My palms were sweaty and my mouth was dry. I was not only totally in awe of HIM, I feared HIM.

“Billy, do as I say, ok?”

“Ok, I guess.”

Pup John took to his knees and kissed HIS right foot. That certainly got Master’s attention for all the wrong reasons and I realized maybe following Pup John’s lead wasn’t a good idea.

“Did I say you could kiss my foot, faggot?”

“No Master”

“No I did not. You’d think you’d know better by now, but then again, you were never good at taking direction and showing

me the appropriate level of respect I most certainly deserve just for being in your presence, that’s why I kicked you to the curb  weeks ago.”

“I’m terribly sorry Master. I know I overstepped.”

“And when the time is right, I’ll make sure you’re….”

In mid-sentence, Master James’s attention turned towards me.

“Who’s the faggot next to you, maggot?”

“My friend Billy, Master.”

Master kicked Pup John in the nuts as if it was an everyday occurrence and suddenly I was HIS sole focus.

“Let me get a good look at you. Come closer.”

I took a few steps closer and when I was within arms reach, Master pulled me closer towards him.

“Mmmmm, not too bad. I’ve not seen you around here before?”

I felt like a piece of meat as Master James inspected my chest, my thighs, my face, my ass, and then put his hand over my crotch, without even asking, as if it was his right to do it.

“Not bad, not bad at all. Firm in the right places, but soft, and I don’t just mean your juicy ass.  And what’s this here? Is that a lock on your dicklet faggot? Is that what that is?”

“Yes Master.”

“Yes Master what?”, he asked a bit bothered.

“Yes Master James, that is a lock on my penis.”, I replied, with some hesitation.

“No boy! Faggots like you don’t have penises, men have penises and it’s clear that not even you think of yourself as a man or you wouldn’t be locking that dicklet up. And when I ask you a question, I expect full, complete sentence responses, you understand me, boy?

“Yes Master James.”

A very stern look appeared on Master’s face. It took me a few moments to realize why.

“Yes Master James, full, complete sentences. I understand, Master.”

“Good boy. I do like a faggot that is a quick learner. Now tell me, who holds the key to your locked dicklet, faggot? Are you owned?”

“Ummm..no..I mean..ummm”, I was so nervous I couldn’t speak.

“Boy! Spit it out!”

“No, I’m not owned, Master and I hold the key, Master!”, I spoke quickly and loudly, over-correcting my initial response.

“Interesting. A good looking, self-locked faggot with no owner. Well, we could change that right now if you like. If you think you can handle being one of my faggots.”

And so, that’s how Master James and I met  about a year ago and my life changed forever, because I decided to say yes. How could I refuse? I was mesmerized by HIM, and something about HIM made me want to fall to my knees and worship HIM.

In that time, Master James molded me into HIS perfect faggot through lots of hard and harsh “lessons”. Not only was I the perfect lay, I could suck HIS cock without gagging, I could drink HIS piss without spilling, cook meals, clean HIS house, and do it all with perfection. In fact, Master James disowned HIS other faggots completely because HE decided they were no longer worth HIS time.

Master James expected HIS faggot to be strong, I was made to work out with HIM five days a week.

Master James expected HIS faggot to be hairless, which I was mostly, but now I was bald from head to toe to please HIM. Master James bought me a body shaver and expected me to use it daily.

Master James  expected HIS faggot to be solely focused on HIM, with no outside distractions. Over time, I had disconnected with my friends. My family disregarded me when I came out at 18, so I was already used to the disconnection from them.

One night, about two weeks ago, I was sucking Master James’s toes on my knees in HIS home when HE told me to move in with him and quit my job.

“Boy, that job of yours distracts you from your true purpose., which is to serve me. You cannot do that when you’re working. You give your two week’s notice tomorrow and you’re moving in with me…permanently. Everything you need is right here.”, HE said pointing to himself.

“Yes Master James.”, it was not a choice, it was an order.

“Get up, on your knees, faggot!”

I didn’t even see it coming. Master James slapped my cheek so hard I fell on my side. I had to think quickly. What did I do that was not up to Master’s expectation. Master only disciplines when there is a reason for it. Then I remembered.

“Yes Master James I will give my notice tomorrow and move in with you permanently.”, I said with a stinging cheek, directly looking into HIS eyes acknowledging the correction. “Thank you, Master for guiding me with your wisdom.”

I knew by now it was my duty to stroke my  Master’s ego.

“Full, complete sentences, faggot! Next time you forget I’ll really make you sorry. I won’t stand for it!”

I also learned when I should just keep my mouth shut, and this was one of those times.

Two weeks later, Master James allowed me to bring only two small boxes of personal things to HIS home and I gave up my rented room and my job.

When HE came home from HIS job as the owner of a very successful construction company, I knelt at the door, as I’d been taught.

“You stay right there, faggot. Don’t move.”, HE commanded.

Heavy footsteps approached me and I felt a thick metal collar being wrapped around my neck.

“You best be on your best behavior, faggot. The bolt can be glued shut at any moment”, Master said as HE placed the cold metal collar around my neck.

“This is all you’ll be needing from now on. Well, this and that lock on your pathetic little dicklet  of yours.”

“Thank you, Master! Yes, Master!”

Master James pressed his toes on my nuts. I was being corrected. Through the excruciating pain, I groaned, “Thank you, Master, for my new collar!”

HIS toes removed.

“Even after a year you still forget I expect complete sentences! How else am I to know you fully comprehend what I tell you! Don’t make me regretful that I put my collar on your neck, faggot!”

“Yes Master, always full, complete sentences and I will not make YOU regretful, Master!”

“Good boy”, Master said, rubbing the top of my bald head. I was sure glad I’d shaved it earlier because I’d been slapped around many times for having any stubble anywhere on my body.

“You know how you could show me appreciation, boy?”

“Yes Master, I know how I could show you appreciation.”

I knew what that meant.

I reached up to the zipper of HIS pants and fished out HIS thick eight inch cut cock and put it in my mouth. I never tired of sucking on Master’s cock. It was always quick to stand tall and proud, and I admired it. No, I loved it. I’d learned how to block out anything else in my mind and simply do my job. Master liked a hands-free, wet, sloppy blow job, deep-throated, no-choking, no-gagging, no spillage of HIS precious seed. Many, many hours of practice to achieve this, many slaps to the face, the head, beltings to my ass, my back…Master James did whatever needed to reach the level of cocksucking service I was expected to provide HIM and anyone else HE commanded me to suck. I was a reflection of HIM. I needed to be perfect for HIM. And my eyes were always fixated upward at HIM, especially when I was honored with ingesting HIS essence. That was the moment I felt completely rewarded for all of the effort, for all of the lessons, the discipline. Swallowing HIS seed was everything. It was my purpose.

After showing HIM the appreciation HE most certainly deserved, I carefully placed Master’s cock back in HIS  briefs and zipped HIM up.

I looked upward in HIS eyes.

“Thank you, Master for allowing me to show you my appreciation for my new collar and for serving you. You are my purpose, Master.

“This collar makes it official for both of us now faggot. It is your duty to serve me 24 hours a day, seven days a week. With every breath you take, every move you make, every thought you have, you should be asking yourself how to best serve me. I expect you to be above, always. To give me your best. I won’t accept anything less. It simply won’t be tolerated.  Do you understand me, faggot?”

“Yes Master. I will always give you my best effort, to be above, always, to think of you, your needs, and only you, twenty four hours a day and seven days a week, Master. It is my honor to be of service to you, Master.”

“You can’t see it, but your collar is inscribed.”

“What does it say, Master?”, I asked still tasting HIS seed in my mouth and cherishing the flavor.

“It says’s the truth. It says what you are. “Master James’s faggot”. Now everywhere I take you, everyone will know you belong to me. Isn’t that great, faggot?”

There was only one acceptable answer.

“Yes, Master James. It is great that everyone will know everywhere we go that I am your faggot.”, and I looked HIM straight in HIS eyes, as I have been taught. Direct, confident, no hesitation.

“Yes, it is your honor, isn’t it, to be my faggot. I know. Do you know how many faggots would die to take your place right now, faggot? Do you?”

“Yes Master. It is my honor to be your faggot. Yes, I know there are many other faggots that would die to take my place, Master.”

“Good. Always remember that. That will be motivation for you to give me your best. It should inspire you.”

I listened. I knew Master was right. There were hundreds of faggots that would kill me, literally, just to replace me.

“So how do you think we should celebrate this momentous occasion, faggot? What would be fitting for your collaring?”

“I don’t know, Master. I’ve never been collared before.”

“No, you haven’t, but still, you must have at least one idea?”

“A champagne toast, Master?”

“Champagne? No! Don’t be ridiculous. How would that benefit me? Try again, faggot, and don’t let me down.”

I paused for a few seconds feeling pressured to come up with a good idea.

“Master, I could submit myself to you to celebrate my new collar.”

“Go on, how, how will you submit to me, faggot?”

“I will bend over for you, Master, if you’d like?”

“Bend over? Hmmmm, seeing that I just fed you my precious seed, I don’t think using your fag hole is necessary. Besides, I can do that anytime for any reason. It’s part of your job, but, I can think of another way I’d enjoy celebrating your new collar that involves your fag ass. Can you, boy?”

Oh shit, Master James was gonna beat me. I disappointed him.

“I think so, Master. I think I know how you’d like to celebrate my new collar.”

“Well good then, bring me the strap and get into position. You do understand you brought this upon yourself, don’t you faggot?”

“Yes Master. I understand. I should have thought of something else. Another way to celebrate my new collar to your liking.”

“Maybe next time you’ll be more thoughtful. Now get me the strap and don’t make me ask again or you won’t sit straight for days!”

I hung my head in defeat and ran to Master’s bedroom where HE keeps HIS implements. I retrieved the thick black leather strap which has bruised my behind more than I can count.

I kneeled before Master James and presented the strap to him.

“Master James, as you requested.”

Master James pulled the strap from my hands, pushed me onto the sofa so my head was hanging off the back, and pushed down with force on the back of my head, but nothing like the brute force my ass would soon be feeling.

“Ass up, faggot!”

I made sure my ass was up high and in position.

“Thwack!”, the first strike was always the worst. Master didn’t hold back anymore when HE punished me. It was always with intention to teach right from the get go. I learned months ago how to stifle my cries, no pleading for mercy, no protesting. I closed my eyes, absorbing the intended lesson.

Maybe there were only ten strikes, or maybe there were fifty. I concentrated so hard to take it, I lost track of time, but Master James knew how to keep me in the present. HE ensured with every connection that leather strap made to my raw behind, there would be a deeply felt sting, one that would last for hours.

Sure enough, when Master James decided I’d had enough, my butt felt like it was on fire.

“Well faggot, not much of a celebration for you, but I certainly enjoyed it. You have no idea how watching you squirm and wiggle that ass entertains me. Turn around, let me see your face.”

I slowly turned around and tried to keep the tear from falling down my face.

“Awww, so sweet. A tear of joy. I know how much you enjoy it when I educate you. Now you will always remember your collaring, won’t you faggot.”

“Yes Master, I will always remember my collaring and I’m grateful for the opportunity to serve you, Master.”

“I’m sure you are.”


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