A Slave's Journey

an excerpt



Chapter One

Today is a turning point in the life of Jim or James, as he used to be called. He is becoming a man's slave. Yes, you read that right. He is a male slave. After four years of preparation and intense slave training, he will be handed over today to his first Master, Bradley Parker. Yes, he knows that slavery is illegal in the United States. However, he has enslaved himself voluntarily; it's called "consensual slavery." There will be no contracts, no blood bonds. Still, Jim expects to belong completely to a Leather Master, which almost certainly makes him a leather slave.

This hasn't happened to him overnight. First, he had to acknowledge his need for enslavement and then try to find his place in this confusing, different world.

Over his twenty plus years, Jim has learned that there are many forms of male slavery. For some men, it is a sex game they play part-time, one assuming the slave role and the other the Master or the Dominant. The game may be just for one session of a few hours or build into several meetings over time. Rarely does the game overflow into their more mundane everyday life. This type of game is generally short-lived, and the two men involved will move on.

For others, it is a deeper game, the search for sexual knowledge about themselves, and this could form the basis of a regular, but still part-time real relationship.

There is a still smaller group for whom the noun "slave" reflects a lifetime ambition; a search by a man looking for a Master. This man is prepared to dedicate himself wholeheartedly, for as long and as deeply as that Master wishes. The slave's complete life is dependent on and interweaves his body and mind with the man he serves.

Jim's own challenge has always been to find this type of true consensual slavery. Over the years, he has worked out that for him, slavery should mean that both sides, the Master and the slave, would eventually reach a level of complete agreement and trust in one another. Trust is all-important to Jim, as he's painfully learned from past experience. He has been taught that he must become immersed in his Master, whose personality, desires, wishes and lifestyle become paramount. His own personality and wishes will disappear, as he slides into total submission. Jim's training has encouraged him to willingly become possessed by the Master. As slave, he must trust this man to take his body and spirit, molding them, at times through violent BDSM means, at other times by quiet persuasion, into the slave that Master wants, or possibly even needs to complete himself.

This process could be heavy stuff, enough to sink any relationship. Yet Jim is beginning to believe it can happen. He thinks he can become an instrument to be molded by a Master. His hope is that he will gradually be crafted into a new being, a slave.

These are the early days. Jim only spent a brief time together with this man, about three days, before he agreed to Master Bradley's offer to send him to slave training in Los Angeles where Master lives, before he accepted Master Bradley's intent to possess him. He is not certain why he took this crucial step in his life journey so impetuously, except that he knew after three short days that he trusted the man. Jim felt Master Bradley was the one whom he would trust to walk him through such a major portal in his life.

As a young man, Jim always had a deep and powerful need to serve others. When still in high school in Boston, he spent a summer as an intern in the local VA hospital. It was there that a seriously injured Air Force pilot provided him with his first sexual experiences, in addition to his first opportunity to of help to another human being, while growing himself.

Then the challenge was to find and follow this difficult path of service and servitude. That would take several years and a variety of different experiences. Working as a medic in the army, then earning a college diploma in nursing gave him a service profession.

Jim knew he required more than short-term relationships; he gradually worked out that he needed a physical, mental and spiritual connection to a single male human being. Along the way, men taught him lessons; some he valued and some behavior he now despised. Slavery became his goal, even when he wasn't entirely sure what it meant. He knew he needed something more lasting, more immersive. Fortunately, at that time, by fate or chance, he met Master Bradley, who had offered the necessary slave training. Now that training under Master Sam has been completed. He is to be handed over to his real Master.

This morning Jim woke early in his cubby hole of a room off the kitchen in the house of his trainer. For the past ten weeks, he has been working towards this day; absorbing the slave training, with its necessary, painfully exciting, fucking and flogging sessions. Physical training was added to buff his body. Not expected were classes in running a house, cooking and cleaning, furniture and household accounts.

The hardest of all to accept was the loss of his own identity. Jim was now simply "slave-six", Master Bradley's name for him. It was a struggle for his brain to accept that his body and mind would now belong to someone else, the man to whom he would now be submitting. Memories and contact with his own family and background could possibly fade into oblivion. He knew he would need time and an understanding Master to take this all in.

No one in the house was awake at 5 am, only Jim. At 5.10 am, his gym trainer, knocking quietly on the back door, took him for a final workout, concentrating on his core and legs. His body needed to be in top condition for the morning's ‘handover;' when muscles, including his cock, would be on display.

Back just after 6 AM, Jim made breakfast for Master Sam, the head trainer, in the house. It was basic; orange juice, muesli cereal with milk and blueberries delivered to his bedroom.

"Morning, slave-six, be ready by 8 o'clock." Master Sam was already awake and working out.

"Sir, yes, Sir." his reply was automatic.

Back to the kitchen, for his own morning meal of scraps and nourishing chow, together with another bowl of cold water, to be eaten on the floor. This was followed by a visit to the bathroom to shave his head, torso and genitals, the daily prerequisite he'd been taught. Mr. Heinrich, one of the other trainers, supervised his efforts personally, before giving Jim three enemas to clean himself out. Then he was allowed to give himself a shower. The trainer handed him a small towel, a special treat. Mr. Heinrich checked that he was now clean inside and out.

At 7.30, the third trainer, Mr. Rudolf was waiting in the kitchen. He immediately bent Jim over the wooden chair by the window, with his trainer-brother holding the trainee's hands above his head. Ass cheeks, still bruised from recent paddling, were further punished with twenty blows, as Jim writhed against the chair back. A good blob of lube was shoved into his burning hole at the finish, as the clock struck 8 am.

Master Sam came into the room, his leathery face smiling at the sight of the slave's buttocks glowing red. His mustache twitched at the slave's overall appearance. Jim sank down to the floor. His naked body slithered over to lick the gleaming, spit shined Dehner boots, which formed part of Master's Sam's best black leather uniform. It was complete with white stripes on the breeches and white epaulets on the shoulders of the police-style shirt.

After five minutes worship of each boot, Master Sam slapped Jim's head. "Up, slave-six, you need to get dressed. Your army boots have been freshly polished?" Jim nodded. "Your slave shorts?"

The slave was confused. "Sorry, Sir, I don't have any."

Mr. Rudolf intervened, "I'll get the pair you picked out, Master Sam."

The tight, black leather was impressively designed to frame a slave's genitals and butt. The shorts were soon locked in place around his vulnerable areas, and the zipper was pulled up in front, left open in back. Mr. Rudolf managed a quick last squeeze of cock and balls.

Jim caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror. He was pleased at how buffed his torso was looking and how form-fitting the shorts were.

Master Sam caught his actions. "Enough of that, slave-six. You're about to become a Master's property, not some vacant male whore. I need to get a hood on you. It's lighter than usual. I want the leather to be especially smooth this morning. Thank God for your shaved head. We don't want hair getting in the way. OK, the breathing hole and mouth are in the right places, good. A ball gag to complete the look."

Even the normally cool head trainer seemed somehow distracted this morning. "I almost forgot. Bend over, six, while I screw this probe plug into your ass hole. You seem to be well-lubed to take it. You might remember the shape, as it moves inside you." Master Sam chortled and slapped Jim's fiery butt. "Yes, you still have the slave collar on. I must remember to take it off during the handover. Last chance to hug or kiss the slave, gentlemen."

Mr. Heinrich and Mr. Rudolf gave him bear hugs and tongue-less kisses. Then one pulled his wrists behind him, so that the other could close and lock the cuffs that appeared. slave-six was decorated appropriately and ready for delivery.

With his arm on slave-six's, Master Sam guided the trainee slave out of the house and into his SUV. He buckled the seat belt; they were off to six's first slave home. The Master talked little on the journey. It was mainly complaints about the morning freeway traffic, which couldn't be answered because of the gag.

slave-six was told he would be living in Brentwood, "an impressive residential area in west Los Angeles. Master Brad is looking forward to seeing the results of your training."

That worried Jim. Suppose Master Bradley didn't like the ‘enhanced slave-six'? Too late for that. He felt the SUV come to a stop. Again, he was helped out and led to a door. A bell chimed; a door opened. As they moved inside, slave-six recognized the voice greeting Master Sam familiarly, and so did his penis, which stretched in his tight shorts.

The two Masters chatted for a few moments. Then, "Let me have a look at what you've brought back to me." Master Bradley sounded almost excited. Jim sensed a movement towards him, heard more cleats on the hardwood floor. His new Master must be wearing boots too. His cock was trying to break out of the shorts.

slave-six stood up tall, spread his legs, puffed out his chest, which was not too difficult with hands cuffed behind him. He waited.

"He's all yours, Brad. I have my report here, together with his workbooks. Let me unlock my collar and take off this hood. What about his shorts? You are certainly welcome to keep them."

"I'll take them off him right now, while you wrestle him out of the hood," Master Bradley volunteered.

They both laughed. slave-six felt hands all over him. One of them pulled on his nipples until he groaned. The slave shorts were pulled down his legs, hobbling him, while releasing his now thrusting cock. He saw daylight again, as the hood came off. Suddenly, slave-six found himself looking directly into the eyes of his new Master. Hastily, dropping his gaze to the ground, he slid down to the floor, arms outstretched, searching for a boot.

"Let me see you out, Sam. Thank you for what looks like an excellent job of training. I'll let you know how we get on." A door slammed. Master Bradley's pair of tall black boots came into slave-six's ground view. One of them stood on one of his hands. The other boot ended up close to his face.

"Lick it, slave-six -- and welcome."

The voice was warm, his captured hand hurt, his tongue started licking that familiar taste of leather.

Yes, Jim knew he was home; but would slave-six prove worth keeping permanently?