You hold all the aces

How did it ever come to this?  I shake my head unfathomably. It all seems so incredible to believe this is me now. My future.

I don't understand how it has come to pass. How he succeeded in making this my life.

But he did. He has. And both he and I know it is right. It is the way it is meant to be. I believe strongly in male hierarchy and I was born to serve superior men. As he reminds me every day, no purpose in fighting what I am meant to be.  I should accept and embrace my status in life. Some men are born to own other men, and some men are meant to serve. Pure and real slavery, unfettered from societal norms.

We met online. Kink website. I asked for this new life, no I begged him for it. He told me to be careful what I wished for. He was right. He holds all the aces now, and it has only been a year since we first met. Serving him feels right and proper. He deserves a slave. And my rightful place is nowhere else. 

Don't get me wrong. There are times I am afraid. The sheer desolation and loneliness of being a slave can be scary. The repetitive cycle of work. The lack of leisure. The lack of basic comfort. Companionship. An equal. I am disgusted - appalled - sometimes for doing this to myself. What would my friends and family do if they knew my life now?

But I stressed I needed it to be real. No escape. True slavery, no equality. Unfair unrelenting ownership, and that's what I have. That's my existence now.

I was a soldier. I correspondended with him online and then we met when I returned on leave. I spent most of my three weeks' leave serving him in the spring, then again in the summer. He convinced me that it was natural for me to stay. Absent without leave. I don't know if I have been missed, but I know now I can't return to my job. My earlier life. I accept that slavery is my status for life and the harsh unrelenting life I now lead is the only option for me. I feel truly alive in a way I never could feel as a free man. I know it, and he knows it too. He benefits from my dilemma : that I need to be controlled and humiliated and taught my place in life as a beast of burden.

I am 15 years older than my owner. He is 25 years old. He is my God. My superior in every way. Even though he doesn't have the physique that I have honed, he is my owner and master. My muscular physique belongs to him now. With my lifestyle as it is, and the absence of any junk food, it will be maintained I am sure.

My mind is clear now. No doubt. I am a slave. For life. Pure and simple.

I live in my owner's cellar.  Always naked, the only items I ever wear now is a thick iron collar around my neck, a dull iron thick snout ring in my nostrils and a tiny metal cage locking my cock away. I used to be proud of my cock but I have come to accept I don't have a cock any more. It's a tiny useless nub kept locked away forever. Slaves don’t get cocks. They worship only the cock who owns them. 

When not in use, I am kept chained to the wall in the dark. Alone. Master calls it stored. I have a thin mattress but otherwise nothing. I sit or lie alone in the dark and wait until he needs me. I have no access to entertainment of any kind of course - master says a slave needs only work, service and quiet contemplation. I sleep here, and can spend evenings down here, even days locked down here when master goes away for a weekend. It's humbling and can be the times when I most question my decision to enslave myself. My life wasted chained by my ankle to a dark wall. My humanity dulled as I have nothing to say, to think about, other than service to my owner.

I lie there and shiver in the damp cold. Running my hands over my hairless body and head, and cupping my full balls in my hands. I used to have a hairy, manly body and a full head of hair. All gone permanently as a sign of what I now am, and a contrast to my owner. I can’t ever get release in any way.

Having no capacity to cum any longer is hard, and so very unfair. I haven’t cum in months and my smooth balls are blue and visibly full. I fully expect master will never let me have a release. I ache for release but he does not allow me to ever ask for release. I am not even permitted to acknowledge that I have a cock or balls now - he says both are irrelevant to my life and should be forgotten about and ignored. They are.

Master says I am a tool. An object for his amusement and to make his life better. I work for him, I serve his needs, I worship him. In doing so I have purpose in life. He is right. Other than service, I have no meaning and I am stored away.

When master is away from home, I am locked away in the cellar. When he is sleeping at home, I have a different existence. My ankle is chained to the wall using a timer release padlock. I am usually locked away by early evening, to allow master some leisure time. Free men get to go to the pub with their mates, or watch sport on TV. Most of them don't have a slave locked away as they do so, but master revels in that knowledge - that he has taken the simple pleasures of freedom and humanity and leisure from me. 

Master has an extensive CCTV system covering much of his house. His house is semi-rural and detached, set in its own grounds. He is wealthy from birth. My lock releases at 4am and I am expected to immediately rise. The hours between 4am and 8am - when master usually rises - are the only times I am allowed to empty my bladder and to shit. I piss squatting over a grid in my cellar. I shit outside in a bucket, and empty it into a stream at the bottom of the garden. No fuss. Master wants my ablutions out of his sight. I am a tool, not a man. I am expected then to use the coarse brush and the cold stream water to clean my arse before returning back inside. Naked, barefoot, regardless of the weather.

I return to the house and commence 4 hours of daily work, alone as the free world sleeps. Silent so as not to disturb my master. I clean every aspect of his kitchen so that it sparkles - not a dish or glass out of place, not a surface unpolished. I clean the surfaces of his living room and dining room daily and I hand wash every floor. On all 4s scrubbing and cleaning every day. This whole, repetitive routine is repeated every day. His house is spotless. I learnt the hard way that his expectations are for perfection in my work. If he finds an error - this has now become very rare thankfully - I am punished in the afternoon. Punishment involves a whipped back, a wooden implement administered to my balls and arse until they are bright red and then to be strung up outside on tiptoe to contemplate my disobedience. It is a scary and disheartening experience and it does not end until master sees the begging fear in my eyes.

I have finished my work by 8am, and my place is - when finished - to wait for my master. All of my movement is checked on CCTV by master to ensure I comply to his exacting standards. I know that and a combination of fear and desperation to please him fills my obedience. My waiting time happens in the corridor outside his bedroom. I stand facing a corner, legs spread and hands behind back. Nose to the wall. Still.

As a free man, master may rise when he wishes of course. Usually between 8 and 10 depending on his day. I am summoned by a bell. When summoned, I enter masters bedroom and crawl to the foot of his bed. I marvel every day at the comfort of his bed. He looks so warm and comfortable in his bed. A pleasure I have forgotten, I am no longer ever permitted to use human furniture.

Unless given other instructions I start with his feet. As he lies peacefully dozing, I worship his feet with enthusiasm. Slowly licking his soles, and taking his beautiful arches into my mouth to suck. Then licking clean between each toe and sucking his toes individually. I know it's an act no true man would ever contemplate and - in my enforced chastity - my nub tries desperately to react in a way it can never succeed. I keep licking until master decides otherwise.

Usually master will then direct me to his arse or cock. His arse requires my tongue. I lick in one movement from balls to top of crack. Repeating the practice slowly and carefully until he moans in pleasure and I move to tonguing his hole deeply. If he prefers cock service, I take it in my mouth and lick around the head of his cock until it engorges and fills my mouth. The inequality of a free erect cock inside my mouth causing my imprisoned nub to quiver desperately.

Sometimes he will fuck my mouth until he explodes down my throat, sometimes he is more lethargic. Sometimes he will direct my open mouth to accept his morning farts gratefully. Everything I do kneeling by his bed, forbidden from ever enjoying the warmth and comfort of lying as an equal in his bed.

Master has a large walk in shower. I join him in it daily for two reasons. The first, to wash his body by hand. To soap up his whole body and clean him. I clean his pits, chest, arse crack and genitals. Fully, carefully, reverently. He stands and enjoys it. Then - the second reason - I kneel before him and accept his magnificent cock into my mouth. Gratefully I gulp down his morning piss. Master never uses a toilet to piss when his slave is there to drink it down. Grateful and humble and obedient.