A report written by slave 437353.
I grew up on a farm in rural Vermont. I lived with my father and four older brothers, and was always treated as a slave by them all. I never minded – I think I was born to be a slave – and the experiences I had there shaped me.
When I was in my final year of high school, I found myself living alone with my father for the first time – two of my brothers were in college, and my oldest brothers had jobs and apartments of their own. Both had moved into buildings my father owned, and managed the buildings as well as worked their jobs.
My father was more relaxed with just me there. He took to being naked most of the time, particularly in the evenings, but on hot days he would stay naked all day, and have me bathe him with cool water. With my brothers gone, he began having his buddy Bill come to our house, and he often watched Bill use me. Other men sometimes came by, but my father rarely joined in. He seemed to be distancing himself from me, as if preparing for when I would leave home.
Bill was a very intense man. Despite the age difference (I was 18 and Bill was 53), Bill was probably the most intense man who I had ever serviced. He seemed to be hard constantly (and this is in the days before Viagra). He needed sex constantly, and any time I had spent a weekend with him, he had fucked me multiple times each day.
I applied to college myself that Fall, but was told only to apply to Amherst – the college where Bill taught. My father told me that I was going there and would live with Bill, and that there was no need to look elsewhere. I had dreamed of other schools, but as always I accepted his orders and applied only to Amherst. In April I learned I had been accepted.
As soon as I was accepted, my father gave me a present: a hard leather collar. He told me that I was to wear it at all times, except when I was in school. Any time I was in the house, or with Bill, I was to have it on.
Graduation day was not a big deal: my father had little use for rituals such as commencement, and I knew I would not be crossing the stage to get my diploma with my class. Instead, my father summoned me on the night of graduation, when I was doing dishes.
As I entered the living room, I saw Bill standing there, and was surprised – I hadn’t heard him arrive. Bill had a suitcase at his feet, and wore an expectant smile. I felt a shiver of apprehension, and looked at my father.
He barely looked at me. “You’re grown now, so I’ve sold you to Bill. You belong to him now, and he’s taking you with him. Get out and don’t come back.”
Before I could say a word, Bill stepped up and clipped a leash onto my leather collar, then yanked me toward the door. As we passed the suitcase, he shouted “Pick it up” and dragged me naked out the door. I had no time to say goodbye, no time to look back. My childhood was over. I never went back to the farm again, and never saw my father again.
Bill locked me in the trunk of his car, and we drove and drove. The rocking movement of the car lulled me into semi-sleep, but I could tell we were on the turnpike. After some time, I felt the car slowing down and going down a long ramp, then driving slowly on down a street. We drove several more miles, and then abruptly pulled into a driveway, and then into a garage. I heard the sound of an automatic garage door, and I held my breath, waiting for my new life to begin. Suddenly, the trunk of the car was opened.
I clambered out of the trunk and stood before Bill, my head down. He took the leash and yanked me toward a door, and I stumbled across the concrete floor and up a couple stairs into a kitchen. I had never been in this house before, but I knew instinctively that it was Bill’s, and that it must be his place in Amherst.
Bill gave me a tour of the house, which was a complete mess, dishes piled around and dirt and dust and debris everywhere. The dining room had an oak table (piled with newspapers, porn magazines and filthy cups and dishes) with several hard wooden chairs, and the living room was empty except for a leather couch and an enormous television. The carpet in the living room was badly stained, the fireplace full of ashes and soot. A hallway ran toward the back of the house, where there were two bedrooms. The master bedroom (a room which, until that night, I had never realized was appropriately named) had a large unmade bed with dirty sheets, clothing strewn around the room, and the stench of dirty socks and underwear. The bathroom off the bedroom was filthy. The other bedroom door was closed and padlocked. There was also a second bathroom, next to the locked bedroom. A door off the kitchen lead to the basement, and a cord in the hallway pulled down the attic stairs.
It was an unremarkable house, except when Bill opened the heavy curtains that covered every window, and told me to look out. The house was completely isolated. Before he even explained, I knew why.
“I bought this place for the land, not for the house. There are no neighbors. I can do whatever I want here, and no one can hear the screams.”
Bill then took his keys off the counter and said, “I’m going out for a while. I want you to clean the entire house. Wash all the clothes and sheets, scrub the kitchen and bathrooms. Make this place as clean as you kept your Dad’s place. Understand?”
“Yes Sir” I responded.
He struck me across the face with the back of his hand, sending me wheeling into the refrigerator. “Your father was ‘Sir’. Any man you serve, you call ‘Sir’. But when you speak to me, the man who owns you, you call me ‘Master.’ Understood?
“Yes Master” I said without hesitation.
“One more thing,” he said. He went into the bedroom, and came back with something in his hand. Bill got on his knees in front of me, and I felt cold metal on my cock and balls. I looked down in time to see him lock a hasp lock around my cock and balls. “That is staying there for as long as I own you, boy. No matter what happens, the lock never comes off.”
“Yes Master” I said.
The work on Bill’s house took hours. The kitchen cabinets, counters and floors were deeply stained with dirt and food, and I scrubbed and scrubbed, naked on my knees, working hard to clean them. The bathroom tiles were caked with dirt and piss, the tub stained deeply, and the towels and sheets appeared to have been used for months. I threw open the curtains and windows, cleaned the floors, washed walls, did mountains of dishes and cleaned out cabinets. The stove took at least an hour to clean, and the refrigerator, full of expired food, took at least another hour. Before putting away the pots and dishes, I cleaned the cabinets, and put fresh shelf paper down from a roll I found in the pantry.
Bill didn’t return until morning, and by that time I was sleeping on the living room floor, curled up with a pillow I had found behind the couch. Bill woke me with a sharp jab of his boot, then I stumbled after him as he inspected my work. The house glistened, and Bill was obviously pleased with all I had done. I was proud of my work, proud of the gleaming hardwood floors in the dining room and hallway, the spotless kitchen with its shiny chrome, the neatly organized cabinets, the manicured bedroom and baths with fresh towels. Bill said, “Good job slave” and tousled my hair . It was the first time he had ever said anything that made me feel proud. “Now make me breakfast.”
I cooked him breakfast and served it to him. He then poured some cereal into one of the dog bowls I had found in the corner, and he put it on the floor. “Eat” he said.
I got down on my hands and knees and ate the cereal out of the bowl like a dog. Bill obviously enjoyed the view of my naked ass in the air as I ate, because before I finished, he got up from the table, stepped behind me, and shoved his hard cock into my ass. I kept my face pressed into the metal bowl as he rode me, and I felt him shoot his cum into me.
After breakfast, he took me into the living room, and had me kneel on the dirty carpet. I was embarrassed by the carpet – I had not found anything I could use to clean it, and the areas I had tried to scrub were not any cleaner. Bill sat on the couch, and I rested my head on his knee like a devoted dog. He said, “Okay, here are the rules: If anyone ever asks, I’m your uncle. You live with me to save on money while you’re in college. Understood?”
“While at home, you are always naked. Even if someone comes to the door, you open the door naked. You have no right to hide your body from anyone.”
“You are to be treated as my slave dog, and as such, you will follow rules. You piss and shit outside, the way a dog does, no matter what the weather. When you shit, you will dig a hole with your hands, and bury the shit. You wash up at the garden hose by the back door.”
“You also will stay off the furniture, unless specifically invited up. You sit and sleep on the floor.”
“I will tell you what to wear, what to do, how to spend your time. While you live here, you have no right to even think about how you want to live. If you don’t know what to do, you will ask me.”
“And of course, anyone who comes in this house is superior to you. Any man I invite to this house has therefore been given the right to my hospitality, and that includes use of my slave. You will treat my guests as the Gods they are, serve them food, do their bidding, and service them sexually. Even if you are dead tired, or sick, if a man wants to use you, you submit, and you’ll treat him with the respect and worship that you have learned to treat me with.”
Bill stood up. “Now I’ve had a long night, boy, and I’m going to get some sleep. I think you need to sleep too, so let me show you your quarters.” We went down the hall, and Bill unlocked the padlock on the second bedroom. The door swung open to a musty space. The window had been covered with plywood, and no light came into the room. There was no furniture, just a pile of rags and cloth in one corner. There were hooks in the walls and ceiling, and lengths of rope and chain. One wall had restraints and whips hanging from nails and hooks, and a large wooden X stood in one corner. Bill pointed at the pile of blankets and said, “You’re going to sleep there. Do you need to go to the bathroom first?”
“Yes I do Master” I said.
We walked past the clean bathroom next to my new room, and Bill opened the back door. “C’mon boy, want to go out?” he said. I went outside, and Bill stood at the door and watched as I got down on my hands and knees, then lifted my leg and pissed against a tree. Then he whistled, and I crawled back across the yard and up to the house. Bill grabbed my leash and lead me down the hall to the bedroom, where he pointed again at the pile of rags. “Go to sleep slave.”
“Yes Master,” I said, and climbed into the pile of rags. The rags were not clean, stiff and crackly as if they had been used as cum rags for months, and they smelled strongly of decay and must. But I gladly curled up in them and pulled some over me. Bill closed the door, and I heard the padlock in the hasp. The room was completely black.
I don’t know how long I was in that room, but it was at least 36 hours. I slept, then woke and sat in the dark, listening. At times I heard Bill moving around, and heard him leaving in his car. Later I heard the garage door open and close as he returned, and heard him walk down the hall, pause outside my door, then continue down into his room. The room was stifling hot, not a breath of air moved, and there was absolutely no light. No matter how hard I strained my eyes, I couldn’t see anything.
Finally, Bill opened the door. I had fallen asleep again, and when I came out of the room, I saw it was night, but I knew I had missed at least one full day and night.
Bill opened the backdoor, and I immediately went out and did my business. Then I washed my ass off at the hose, and came inside dripping wet. Bill tossed me a dirty rag, and I dried myself off, and he said, “Make me breakfast.”
After breakfast, Bill handed me some clothes and told me to get dressed. We walked outside, and I was surprised to see my car sitting in his driveway. He handed me the keys, and then gave me a shopping list, and gave me directions on how to find the various stores. He told me he had charge accounts, and all I had to do was give them his name, and they would bill him for the purchases.
The list of errands was a long one, involving driving to several neighboring towns, and it was late afternoon by the time I got home. As I pulled into the driveway, I noticed several cars parked on the lawn to the left of the house. I went in through the back door with the groceries, took off my clothes, then returned to the car for additional bags, the things from the hardware store, the dry cleaning, etc. I heard Bill talking and laughing with several men, but did not venture toward the living room until everything was inside and I had put away the groceries.
When I entered the living room, Bill glanced at me, obviously pleased to see that I was naked. He introduced me to his friends, who looked at me admiringly. One man got up and walked over to me, grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. He whistled. “Man, you got a sweet one this time! This is the one from Vermont?”
“Yeah,” Bill said. “I’ve been fucking it for several years. I’ve trained it quite well.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” the man responded.
All reports of slave 437353
Report: My first master (2) – rent boy
Report: Branding of a slave