It’s been a month since Master James placed HIS collar around my neck and warned me that it could be permanently affixed. It’s also been a month since I gave up my rented room, my job, my friends, and my independence.
Master James had simple rules. Speak when spoken to. Do as HE says without question. Keep myself smooth from head to toe, exercise daily, eat healthy (absolutely no sweets or empty carbs), and to always be sure my holes were available for HIS use at any time. Of course, along with behavioral, dietary, and sexual demands, there were household chores, ensuring the house was impeccably clean, laundry was done timely and folded to HIS specifications, beds were made, meals were prepared, shopping was done, landscaping and lawn mowing were maintained. I was busy from the moment Master James woke up until HE allowed me to go to bed.
What surprised me the most is I thought I’d have lots of time for introspection, time for myself, time to slack off when I was feeling tired or overwhelmed. That was never the case. From the moment I opened my eyes in the morning until I went to bed, every thought was focused on HIM, how to meet HIS needs, how to please HIM, how to make sure I never disappointed HIM.
Master James was ingenious in a way, filling his home with little reminders, signs in every room, “Always. Above.”, “Give Your Best, “Never Compromise”, “Strive for Excellence”. Mostly signals of positive reinforcement which were somewhat motivating.
But Master James figured out early on how to get the best out of me. It was the continuous mentioning of how many faggots out there would give their lives to trade places with me and that I was expendable. Master James forced me to prove to HIM every single day that I was worth HIS time and HIS energy.
Of course there were many missteps along the way. Master James was unforgiving and was quick with a hard slap to the face, lashings to my backside, time outs, etc., but those sorts of disciplinary actions were for only minor infractions. There were other methods Master James had used on me for those special times when I needed “redirecting”, as HE often called it.
There was that one time I missed dusting a particular corner of the living room, overcooked HIS chicken dinner, and missed a few spots shaving my chest. All of this happened in just one day. Master James was infuriated with my lack of attention to detail, lack of follow through and thoroughness, and thoughtlessness to allow HIS dinner to be less than perfect.
After the severe strapping to my backside, Master James felt something more significant would help me to always remember to double check my work.
Master James dragged me over towards the kitchen by the scruff of my neck and opened the pantry.
“Get that bag of brown rice, faggot!”
“Yes Master.”
I pulled it out and attempted to hand it to HIM.
“No, open it and pour it out on the floor. All of it!”
I tore a hole in the bag and poured it in a pile on the kitchen floor, which was black ceramic tile.
“Spread it out a little!”
I did so.
“What time is it, faggot?”
I looked at the kitchen clock, it was 8:27PM.
“8:27PM Master.”
“Kneel on that big pile of rice over there!”
“Yes Master”
My knees were now sticking to the little mounds of rice on the floor.
“Now lower to your elbows.”
“Yes Master”
I lowered myself until I was on my elbows and knees, both painfully carrying my body weight while the brown rice stuck to my skin.
“I’ll be back in an hour, faggot, keep an eye on the clock and think about what you’ve done.”
Master set the oven clock for one hour and walked away.
Within 10 minutes, I was ready to give up. It was very uncomfortable. After twenty minutes I cried silently, it turned the corner to minor discomfort to outright pain. I was hesitant to move my body in fear that Master would add more time to this lesson. After 30 minutes my eyes teared. Somehow with much perseverance and an inner need to obey HIM, I managed to complete the task…or so I thought.
When the alarm went off, I was so elated that the torture would end.
Master James turned the alarm off and I didn’t move at all, not until I was given permission by HIM.
“Well, you did it faggot, good for you. How was that for you? Did you enjoy it?”
“No Master. Kneeling on my elbows and knees was difficult, Master.”, I whispered.
“It was meant to be difficult, faggot. You ready to hear the second part of your lesson?”
“Second part, Master?”, I looked up in disbelief.
Master slapped me so hard I fell into the rice piles on the floor and spread it all over the tiles.
“What did you say, faggot?”
“Nothing Master. I’m ready to hear about the second half of my punishment and I thank you for the opportunity to serve, Master!”, I said with new found enthusiasm.
“Well, isn’t that grand. Let’s see how you do with this.”
Master placed the empty plastic bag in front of me and lowered himself so he was eye to eye with me.
“Pick it up. All of it. If I see even one stray piece of rice on this floor I’ll introduce you to my dragon-tail whip! I’ve been looking for any good reason to use that on you, faggot. Every fucking piece even if it takes you all night, I don’t give a rat’s ass.”
He looked me dead in the eyes, waiting for my reaction or rebuttal, but it never came.
“Yes Master. Thank you for the opportunity to serve you.”, was all I could say to HIM.
“There won’t be any corners cut under my watch. Every single second of your life better be focused on serving me 100%.”
“Yes Master. Thank you for the opportunity to serve you, Master. Good night Master.”
Master James left me and I stared at the rice which was all over the floor, spread everywhere and some even still sticking to my skin. Then a delayed response kicked in from the thick leather strap HE’d taken to my rear-end. A deep stinging sensation slowly emerged from inside my soul to my extremities.
In my warped mind I took that as a sign that if Master James saw me staring at the mess instead of cleaning it up, HE would beat me into tomorrow. It was as if I was projecting my own punishment and it lit a fire under me. I meticulously started picking off the uncooked rice from my skin, one by one and placed it into the plastic bag. As the minutes passed, I approached the job tile by tile, using my small fingers to retrieve the rice from the floor and carefully place it into the bag.
At almost 3:00am, four hours later, after checking, double checking and triple checking, I was confident that every single piece was accounted for. There was no way I’d missed even a spec of a piece.
I was exhausted and fell asleep on the hard floor too tired to even get to my sleeping place.
It seemed like only five minutes later I was feeling HIS bare foot poking my side.
“Rise and shine faggot!”
I opened my eyes and Master James placed a bowl of cooked brown rice on the floor next to me.
“Time for breakfast! You did such a terrific job cleaning it up, now you can eat it up. This will be your lunch and dinner, too!”
I placed my face in the bowl of rice and started eating it. It was bland and tasteless.
With rice sticking to my face I looked over at Master who was sitting at the table drinking HIS morning coffee in his underwear watching me humble myself.
“Thank you, Master for my breakfast.”, I said with a face full of HIS freshly prepared food. Humiliation was an emotion beat out of me shortly after my collaring. Faggots like me are not afforded such privilege.
“You are welcome. I’m going to the gym this morning. When I return, I want you to tell me why I made you kneel on that rice, pick it up, and then eat it. I need to know you learned something and I’m not just wasting my precious time on you. And that bowl of rice better be licked clean. Do you understand me, faggot?”
“Yes Master. Thank you for the opportunity to serve you, Master.”
I learned within days that Master never tired of me thanking HIM for the opportunity to serve HIM. I said it every time with genuine sincerity. It was always my aspiration to confirm for HIM that I was worthy of HIS collar. Wearing it was my honor and privilege.
When Master James left for the gym, I finished eating the rice and even licked the bowl. Then I went through my morning hygiene routine. Teeth brushed, body shaved, colon cleansed, fresh jockstrap, etc. All the while, I thought hard about how I would express the lessons learned to HIM.
A first step was admission of fault, and spelling out exactly what I did that was unacceptable, and then to explain why it was necessary to correct me in order to improve my performance. I had some reminders looking back at me in the mirror, a purple and blue butt and little rice-induced indents in my skin.
After making HIS bed and tidying up after HIM, Master James returned from the gym.
I kneeled on the floor in the hallway. My head bowed, hands behind my back.
No friendly greeting. I never expected one after what happened last night, or ever. I was just HIS collared faggot after all, nothing more.
“Open”, he stood over me and fished out HIS cock from his sweaty shorts, expectantly.
Master placed his soft cock in my obedient mouth and relieved HIMself. In just a few weeks time, I’d become the perfect human urinal. Not without a lot of lessons along the way, of course. Every drop spilled required corrective action. I understood that to wear HIS collar, I had to be perfect for HIM.
When I finished drinking from HIS tap I looked up into HIS eyes.
“Thank you, Master. Thank you for the opportunity to serve you, Master. Thank you for honoring me with your precious urine, Master.”
“Anything else, faggot?”
“Yes Master. I understand how it important to you it is that I am thorough in every task. There are no shortcuts. I must check my work always to ensure the highest standards, Master. I must always prove to you, Master, I am worthy of your collar, Master.”
“That’s a good start, faggot. You’re forgetting the most important lesson of all. Do you know what that might be?”
“Master? I’m not sure?”
“That really disappoints me. I’ll tell you, but it’s going to cost you. You do know by now I won’t tolerate ignorance in my home. One more opportunity to answer the question.”
“Master, I think I know what it is!”, I blurted cheerfully.
“Well, out with it faggot!”
“That taking shortcuts is selfish, Master.”
“You’re on the right track. How does being selfish affect me, faggot?”
“Master, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I put myself before you and your needs when I’m not thorough and paying attention to details. I promise, Master, to do better.”
“That is correct and I will not tolerate a selfish faggot wearing my collar. Is that clear?”
“Yes Master. I understand, Master.”
“Time will tell. Now I think I’ve allowed you to speak to me enough today. I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth until you call me for dinner.”
Master James trained me on many occasions with duct tape as a means to teach me to keep me silenced for hours on end. After the one time I couldn’t stay quiet even after HE demanded it when I was made to skip dinner in an 8 hour block of quiet corner time the lesson stuck with me. Duct tape was no longer required.
I nodded my understanding so Master knew HIS message was received and understood.
“It’s time for my daily unloading, faggot. Get yourself ready and I’ll be there in a minute.”
I nodded again.
Getting “ready” entailed lubing my butthole and presenting it face down, ass up on my bed in my room. Master James had very expensive bedsheets on HIS King bed that HE never wanted soiled.
I waited in silence in my bedroom, my hands spreading my sore cheeks wide, presenting HIS personal pocket pussy for the taking.
After a workout, Master James’s body required unloading after building up all that energy. HE said on quite a few occasions that part of owning a faggot is that HE never had to get off using HIS own hands. HE often used one or both of my holes at HIS whim. I often dissociated my mouth and butt hole as my own and mentally relinquished them to HIM . In Master’s opinion, my entire being belonged to HIM, as HE often reminded me, and HE practically owned all the thoughts in my brain, too.
Master James approached me. I could hear HIS heavy footsteps. The head of HIS thick cock breached my ring and pushed inside, claiming its rightful place. Master’s big hands grabbed hold of my hips and pulled me backwards, fully impaling me. I bit down on my wrist to stifle the moan as my eyes rolled backward.
Master began a deliberate dick down, with the only end goal of releasing HIS seed inside HIS faggot. Master worked up a sweat behind me, swatting my behind over and over as if I was HIS thoroughbred, pounding HIS cock hard in my butt, riding me across the finish line. Deep guttural growls escaped from HIS mouth as HIS cock sprayed my insides full HIS semen.
When Master James finishing using me, HE pulled his cock from inside me and he stood there, knowing I would turn right around to cleanse HIS cock and balls with my mouth. I hungrily devoured HIS virile juice as if my life depended on it. Before Master left me to my chores, a hard slap to the face was delivered, no reason provided, just because HE felt like it.
For the remainder of the day I went about my household duties, staying out of HIS way as HE fussed about in HIS den. Master James wasn’t kidding about the dragon-tail whip. HE left it visible for me to see on HIS coffee table. I trembled. It looked viscous.
Soon it was time for me to prepare HIS dinner. A man like my Master eats well to maintain HIS strong physique. I prepared chicken breasts and steamed broccoli for the big brute.
I knocked on the heavy wooden door of HIS den.
“Yes faggot?”
“Time for dinner, Master”
HE nodded to acknowledge me, but I still sensed HE was bothered by something.
I scurried back to the kitchen to serve HIS meal at the table, standing by in the event HE needed anything.
When HE finished and I set the dirty dishes in the sink, I was summoned.
“FAGGOT!”
I ran to HIS seat at the head of the table.
“Yes Master?”
“Kneel!”
I knelt before HIM.
“I’ve had some time to think today, faggot.”
There was a pause as I looked up into his eyes.
“I’ve decided I’ve been too lenient with you. There’s really no reason why, after over a month of training, you are so careless. It’s not your fault, it’s mine, but I’m ready to do whatever it takes to fix the issue. I know you have what it takes to reach the next level or I wouldn’t have placed my collar on you.”
“Thank you, Master. It is my honor and privilege to serve you, Master.”
Master became enraged. HIS towering body stood up from HIS chair and I was slapped so hard my ears were ringing as I fell to the floor.
“DID I ASK YOU TO SPEAK, FAGGOT?”, he roared.
I did not say a word as I tried to get up.
“THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I MEAN! YOU SPRAK WHEN I DID NOT AS YOU TO SPEAK AND WHEN I ASK YOU A QUESTION, SUDDENLY YOU’RE A MUTE! I’VE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OF THIS! GET YOUR ASS OVER THE SOFA, FAGGOT! GO!”
I was shaking, I never heard Master James so angry before.
Master James stormed past me as I braced myself. It happened so quickly. The whir in the air before that dragon tail bit me in the behind. I shrieked so loudly I’m sure I woke the dead.
Before I could regroup, a second sharp sting landed over the other ass cheek.
“Oooooooowwwwwwwww”, I screamed.
I realized the first two were just warm ups as the third landed square over my back with such venom. My mouth formed into a giant “O”, but nothing came out. I saw stars.
I lost count after the sixth or seventh. It felt like my entire body was on fire as it jumped and twitched reacting to the severity of the whip.
Once HE dropped the handle of it on the floor behind me I knew it was over. I didn’t dare move. I couldn’t anyway. Master James simply walked away. Message sent and delivered. I knew I had to up my game. There would be no second chances.
Alone in my silence, I finally released, I sobbed letting it all out, and even then, badly beaten, I whispered, “thank you, Master. It’s my honor and privilege to serve you, Master. I am proud to wear your collar, Master.”
Then I heard a faint, “you’re welcome, faggot”, in the distance.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
