Chapter 4: - The Society
Classes had resumed and it was Wednesday. I hadn’t heard anything from him since the night he told me I passed. I didn’t know if that was the end, or if there was more to come, no pun intended.
Deep down, I wanted more, and while the thought of unknown people using me like they do scared the crap out of me, but in a way turned me on even more. It had been a week or so since I had last jacked off, when he locked a cage on me, which was a constant reminder.
After class, I got home, stopped by the doorman to get my mail.
“Hey Ryan, any mail for me?”
Ryan turned around and looked in my mailbox. Ryan was in his early 40s, had a wife, and 2 kids. He worked here as a second job as extra spending money. He worked full-time as an X-ray tech at the local hospital, working overnight. He had an average body, probably 6’2”, 220 pounds. I wasn’t sure why he worked here, I mean you make great money as an X-ray tech. He had been married for about 4 years and had a 1 year old at home. His wife was gorgeous, and worked as a dental hygienist, who for the record, also make great money.
“No, I don’t see any,” he said, turning back to me. “Zoey,” his daughter, “loved the toy you got her. I can’t believe she’s one already. My wife loves watching her play with the colorful wheel. However, she’s started mooing a lot.” I had gotten his daughter one of those circle things, where you pull the cord, it spins, and makes the noise of the animal it lands on.
“I hope you’re talking, Zoey is mooing and not your wife,” I replied with a chuckle.
He laughed and replied, “Yes, Zoey. Oh, wait,” he turned around, bent over and grabbed a box with my name on it and a shield with M s S written over the shield.
There was no address on it, so it hadn’t been mailed. I grabbed the box, thanked him and headed to the elevator.
I entered my apartment and grabbed a pair of scissors to open the box. Inside was a small paddle lock key, a weird shaped key, a packet of papers, probably 40 pages, and a greeting card.
I grabbed the greeting card that on the outside, read “READ FIRST” and opened the card. It was a typed out message:
Faggot, congratulations on passing the initiation and welcome to the Master/slave Society. This is an elite club of Alpha Dominant men who, for obvious reasons, will remain anonymous. Your Master’s identity is up to Him to reveal, but members do not have to show their faces. Included in your entry packet is the key to the chastity you are wearing, a key to locker #572, which will be explained in a moment, a pass the the Men’s Playground, the Bylaws/Service Contract for the M s S.
If you wish to continue, you will go to Men’s Playground Friday night at 10pm sharp. Your admission has been paid for and presenting that card will grant You access. Once there, you will put the signed Bylaws/Service Contract, chastity key, in locker #572, and report to room #110. Further instructions will be waiting there.
If you wish to end this here and now, no questions asked, then return to the chastity cage, unsigned agreement, to the locker, again, you won’t have to pay to enter and put it in the locker at which point you are free and may leave.
- Master/slave Society, President
I re-read the letter, running the options through my head. Each night before bed, I would read the packet, and trying to figure out what I’m going to do. While this all turned me on for some reason, I wasn’t sure how much I could endure and they aren’t big on stopping, however, have so far, respected my limits, and the agreement left a spot for me to list my limits. It also allowed my “Master” to rent me out to members of the club. I hadn’t gotten any clues from Master as to who he is like he promised other than him stating I know him in real life.
The next day, I entered my history class, which while I hated history class, the Professor Dawson was gorgeous. He was a newer teacher to the school, probably about 5’7, walked as though he had been in the military, and was fit.
After my 3 classes, I arrived back home and walked into the kitchen, when I froze in place. Someone was here. There was a can on the kitchen counter that I knew I didn’t leave there. I slowed my pace and turned the corner into the family room of my apartment and saw him, Master, sitting in my recliner, a handkerchief with a skull on it around his face, and nothing else.
He raised his phone in his hand and pressed something on the screen, and heard, “Strip, kneel, crawl here. It’s rehearsal time.”
I dropped my bookbag, took off my clothes, and knelt to the ground, crawling over to him. What did he mean rehearsal? He grabbed a handful of my hair and before I could blink, his cock was down my throat, and not even allowing time to adjust, but started throat fucking me. I was gagging, coughing, eyes watering, as he showed my throat, no mercy. He held it down my throat, nose in his pubes and just kept whispering, “OPEN IT faggot.”
I tried pulling off, but it just made him hold my head tighter. I started breathing through my nose and relaxed a little more, which he released pressure, “Good faggot, that’s it, open it up,” he whispered. Finally, he pulled out, pushed my head back, causing me to fall over.
*WHACK* across the face.
He grabbed his phone and typed something, then I heard, “You fucking faggot. Learn quicker. Gain balance” He grabbed my hair, and “helped” me (I guess you call it) back to my knees. He walked behind me, covered my eyes with something, and I could feel him tie it behind my head. I was blinded. He grabbed what I assume was a collar, as he then locked it around my neck. I heard a click, and he had me on a leash.
Without saying a word, he began walking, pulling me with him. I heard him sigh, walk closer, grab my hair hard, turn my head so he was whispering into my ear, “KEEP UP”. I tried as hard as I could to keep up. We walked back and forth for a little bit, until he dropped the leash. Soon, I heard his phone reading, “Good faggot. Time for a reward. ASS UP.”
As soon as my head touched the floor, all 8” of his cock were deep inside me. I tried holding a moan, but it escaped.
*WHACK* to my ass.
It wasn’t much longer than I felt his cock swelling inside me, he shoved deeper, and then his cum flooded my ass. He patted my head like a dog, and heard him get dressed, shortly then the door open and close. I removed the blindfold, cleaned up.
Wait a minute, why were we "rehearsing" if he didn’t know I was officially joining or not.
I went back into the kitchen and found a note… “faggot, you may think you have a choice, but you don’t. Faggot WILL sign that and submit or faggot’s personal business won’t be so personal.” Then my phone dinged. It was a video from the night I was being double penetrated, then a message that said, “I know you, and I know you won’t turn this down.”
There it was again, the insinuation that he knew me. I shook my head, and tried to go on with my night, but I couldn’t concentrate. Who was he?
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