Change of Ownership
Trevor called at just the right time.
We hadn’t seen each other in a few years and it was a surprise when he called me out of the blue. It was equally surprising to hear that he and Kelly had broken up, not just because she was blond, tall, and stacked, but they had really seemed to click as a couple. But now Trevor had a new girlfriend and wanted me to come by and hang out. We’d never been close, just ran in the same group of friends, and his overly friendly enthusiasm to reconnect was a bit odd. But Sarah had a family thing this weekend and I really didn’t want to go—catching up with an old friend was the perfect excuse.
When Trevor answered the door, I almost didn’t recognize him. Trevor had always had a shaggy, scruffy look—the joke was that he only cut his hair or shaved for weddings or funerals. But now his hair is cut in a short, spiky style, his face clean shaven—even his clothes are completely different. He looks like a twink from a boy band.
I’d barely said hello when he ushered me into the living room where a woman was reclining on the sofa drinking a glass of wine. She watched me intently as she put down the glass and rose, walking towards us.
“This is Mike.” Trevor gestured at me with big smile.
The woman was older, maybe mid-thirties—about a decade older than Trevor and I—and just average looking. Overweight though not obese, but no cleavage. This couldn’t be his new girlfriend? He’d traded Kelly for this?
As she walked around the couch, I was completely creeped out by the way she looked at me! I was about to make an excuse and skip out when the woman held out her hand and I automatically shook it. For a moment my head spun and that’s when I noticed that she had the most beautiful brown eyes I’d ever seen. And while she wasn’t classically beautiful there was just something about her…Kelly didn’t hold a candle to this goddess!
“Take off your clothes.”
I quickly stripped down to my underwear while the woman sat back down on the couch, retrieving her glass of wine.
“Come around here so I can take a look at you. Hmmm…turn around….now back….drop the boxers.”
I really wanted to please this beautiful woman, but Trevor was standing behind the couch watching us, a strange, rapt grin on his face. I’d been nude in front of other men many times—doctors, at the gym, that sort of stuff—but I really don’t want a guy seeing my growing woody. And isn’t this Trevor’s girlfriend?
The woman followed my glance and then stands back up and steps close to me, sliding her hand down into my boxers and firmly grasping my semi-hard cock. Her body so close makes me swoon. She lets go of my cock and pushes my boxers down and I don’t care at all about Trevor.
“There…less shy now?”
Then she grabs my cock again and uses it to lead me to the bedroom and we fuck. Her small breasts are perfect, and I don’t mind the slightly unclean smell of her pussy. I don’t even lose my erection when she has Trevor us and the two of us spend the next few hours pleasuring her. It takes both of us to satisfy her, taking turns fucking her until we both cum then eating her out until one of us has recovered enough to fuck her again. When she trembles and screams with her fifth orgasm, she finally seems content.
“How did I do this time, Mistress?”
The woman reaches down and tousles Trevor’s hair. “Good, Trevor. He’s much better than the last one.”
They’re clearly talking about me…and I’ve never felt so happy and proud!
Then she locks eyes with me. “You will call me Mistress.”
It takes me a week to break up with Sarah but that’s just because I’m too busy pleasing Mistress to get around to it. Eventually I text Sarah that it’s over and then block her phone number when she won’t stop calling. I never actually quit my job; I just stop going to work. I change my grooming and dressing habits for Mistress. She doesn’t like body hair so I start shaving my entire body. I’d spent years working out at the gym and trying to bulk up, but Mistress likes slim, well-toned men, so I change my workout regimen and diet and try to lose some mass while maintaining muscle tone. I buy new clothes that Mistress likes. I even start calling myself “Michael” because Mistress prefers more formal names.
And I find that Trevor and I aren’t Mistress’ only sexual partners; I quickly lose count of the men she has sex with. Usually two or three of us pleasure her at once. Sometimes other women us and we have sex for Mistress’ enjoyment. Mistress particularly likes watching a beautiful woman debase and exhaust herself servicing multiple men with her mouth and cunt, having us fill her with our cum. But sex with other women is bittersweet; no woman is equal to Mistress and yet it’s the only time I receive oral sex now since Mistress doesn’t like giving head.
And occasionally she has us guys do stuff with each other. I try my best to hide my disgust of homosexual sex and I do everything I’m told to do, but I can never keep an erection while doing it. Sometimes a man Mistress likes is gay and can’t service her well in bed. They try but while the mind is willing and eager their cocks rarely cooperate; no amount of coaxing by Mistress can get a fag’s cock hard enough to truly fuck her. She still keeps a few around, those she likes the best, and occasionally has us have sex with them while she watches. That’s probably the most difficult thing I have to do; sexual with another straight man for Mistress’ amusement is bad enough, but sex with a fag that is into me is truly awful.
I introduce Mistress to five guys I think she might like, and she has sex with two of them. Many of the men she meets are turned away after she examines them naked, and not all the men she has sex with are given a second chance. And some of the men she meets do other things for her, like give her money or cars or houses, or introduce her to other men.
I am so lucky that she liked me! I don’t think life would be worth living if I couldn’t have sex with Mistress.
Late one night five of us are servicing our drunken Mistress while she watches another dozen men—mostly straight but a few fags—and a few women having any orgy, when something smoking rolls into the room. The smoke is caustic, and we all start coughing and gasping for air. Suddenly there are men in the room, men with gas masks and uniforms and guns. I see Thomas pounding Mistress with his long cock when a burly man pulls him away, then Mistress trembles and jerks. Mark struggles to Mistress and begins eating out her pussy when he too is pulled off the bed. Seeing Mistress laying there, her favorite lovers pulled away by armed men, I was filled with anxiety…Mistress wanted sex and we were failing her! I crawl towards Mistress, licking my way up her thigh while trying to breathe, when a gloved hand grabs my shoulder. Someone drags me out of the room as it s that Mistress’ body is full of wires and some small part of my mind realizes that she’s been tasered. By the time I can breathe again my hands are securely fastened behind my back and I’m being dragged downstairs into the basement. The house was a gift to Mistress and it is quite large, and the basement is the largest room. There are about thirty of us sitting on the chilly floor, a dozen armed men watching over us. All I can think about is that Mistress hasn’t orgasmed since early afternoon! I struggle in vain to get free….Mistress needs a cock or tongue in her pussy, I have to get to her!
We’re held there for a few hours until Mistress walks into the room followed by several more armed men and one unarmed man. Mistress is wearing a straight-jacket, both arms wrapped across her chest and tied behind her back, but her face is peaceful, almost joyous. The unarmed man standing beside her speaks softly to her for a moment and then Mistress speaks in a loud voice.
“Everything is ok, there is nothing to worry about. I want you all to do everything these men tell you to do.” The man whispers something more. “Answer any of their questions completely, honestly, and truthfully. Help them in any way that you can. Is that clear? Disobey them and I will be very, very angry!”
Most of the armed men are still wearing masks but a few, including the unarmed man, aren’t. He’s older than any of us, perhaps in his late forties or early fifties, a full head of hair but mostly gray. Bearded, average build but with a bit of weight visible in his face and wrinkles around the eyes.
Mistress looks at the unarmed man, her expression nervous and anxious, and when he nods in approval Mistress smiles in relief. Then several armed men escort Mistress out of the room and the unarmed man steps forward, his head tilted towards a shorter man at his side as he looks over those of us sitting on the floor.
“Keep her sedated but have her call in the rest of her hive.” The short man nods as he shadows the unarmed man. “Yes, Sir. I’m not sure there’s much to salvage here. The few we’ve interrogated are totally mind-fucked and probably can’t be re-integrated into society. We aren’t going to be able to throw any of them back.”
Those of us who had been servicing Mistress in the bedroom are still naked and huddled together on the cold floor. The unarmed man walks over and surveys us disapprovingly.
“Stand them up.” Since we’d been told to cooperate, we all awkwardly struggle to our feet, our arms still fastened behind our backs, our bodies stiff and aching; several armed men move to help us up and position us in a ragged semi-circle. The unarmed man slowly walks down the line. “She really likes that young, skinny, hairless look, doesn’t she?” He stops several times, examining a few men and women, before moving on without comment. When he reaches me he pauses for a moment before the short man behind him makes a twirling gesture with one finger and I nervously turn around slowly. My hands are numb and my shoulders are on fire and I jump when the unarmed man gropes my ass, quickly turning back around. Despite myself I still flinch when he gently strokes my chest.
His hand quickly moves up and firmly grasps the back of my neck and I gasp as an icy jolt flashes through me, almost falling over but for the strong arm bracing me. As I struggle to catch my breath I notice how wise his eyes are, green flecked with brown; his hand on my neck is firm and strong.
“What’s your sexuality, boy? Straight, bi, gay?”
“Straight.” My head is still spinning, and it comes out as a breathless gasp.
The hand on my neck drifts down to my right nipple and he begins pinching and tweaking it, his other hand rising to gently stroke my abs. This is obviously an important and powerful man, and though we hadn’t even been introduced yet I already felt a deep respect…almost a sense of loyalty to this man. And yet his physical attention disgusted me and I really wanted to pull away.
“Then I suppose you don’t want to suck my cock, do you?”
And now I do back away. “No! No….sir.”
He grasps my neck with both hands and smiles. “Sorry boy….this isn’t going to be pleasant, but it won’t take long.”
A spike of ice splits my head open and I scream and everything goes black….and the next I know I am leaning into the bearded man. My heart is pounding, I’m trembling with chills, and I struggle to catch my breath and stand up on my own, but his embrace feels safe and comforting. I look up into his deep green eyes and I want to kiss him, to rub his neck and massage his feet and lick my way up his leg. And like an epiphany I realize how perfect cock is, how much I enjoy my own cock and how much I want to play with other cocks. I thought of the things I’d done with other men for Mistress’ pleasure and hunger to do them again, and to do more…much more.
“What’s your name, boy?”
His voice is so authoritative, so…commanding. And he wanted to know my name! “Michael.” It came out as a whisper, my voice hoarse like I’d been screaming all night at a concert.
Another blast of ice takes my breath away and even before I recover I’m filled with lust for this masculine, powerful man standing in front of me. I desperately want to him take my body, to use my mouth and cock and ass for his own pleasure. I want to drop to my knees and grovel before him and beg for the honor of servicing his glorious body…I need to worship his cock until he throws me around and rams it up inside me and fucks me while I scream. I want to be his sex slave, bound and gagged and beaten, pissed and shit on, groveling at his feet…no, I AM his sex slave, if only he’ll have me!
I nervously look up and we lock eyes until his gaze drops to my painful erection and he smiles. God he is so handsome!
The short man steps forward as my Master turns to address him. “Take this one back to the ranch. Give him to Ryan for grooming, get rid of that fucking haircut and I want 10 pounds put on him by the time his beard grows in. Once he’s been cleared of STDs give him to Paul for training but make it clear that there’s to be no anal penetration.”
Master turns back and holds my adoring gaze as he gently strokes my chest again, his electric touch sending shivers through my body. “I’ll train the boy’s ass myself.”
I tremble in anticipation as I’m led me away.