Chastity slave in Berkeley

I was always straight. When I was a teenager, I was hot for pretty much every woman I saw. I started fucking women at age 14, and I fucked a lot of women. Older women, girls my age, you name it. Black, white, latina, asian. I fucked a couple of my teachers, the mother of a buddy.

The problem was, pretty much every woman I fucked didn't like to get fucked the way I wanted to. I wanted to be in charge, and to dominate and control them. I knew what I ultimately wanted was a sex slave - someone who I could use and din't have to give a shit about what they wanted or what they felt.  I sought out women who were into that, but even the women who said they wanted a master thought I was too much for them, or wanted to control every scene. The end result was, it was all a fucking game to them. I think women have WAY too much baggage about men for this type of thing.

Then I got introduced to the joy of fucking fags. I fucked a couple in Central Park, and I slapped them around - they just asked for more. I remember one guy - I fucked him really hard, slapped him, made him lick my shoes, and shot my cum down his throat. he told me "thank you sir" and I slapped him hard across the face (more of a punch, actually). His nose started bleeding, and he looked up at me and said "thank you again sir." Then he gave me his phone number.

After college, I was still living in the town where I went to school. There was this guy, Bill, and he owned a male slave. I used it a couple times, and it was pretty fun. But then, he told me about another slave he was getting. Evidently, this slave had been whored out to him by its father, and it was going to go to that college (not of its own volition - Bill had told it that it was his and had to go there.) I first used it at a party Bill had, where both slaves were restrained and guys were free to use them however. Most guys wanted head or to fuck, but most weren't abusive or agressive with the slaves. But this new slave - it was something else, it was willing to do anything I wanted, took my abuse, thanked me, and I could see by its expression that it was totally happy serving.

Bill got rid of the original slave (I never asked where it went - it was just gone one day) and his new slave was available for use. I started using it pretty fucking regularly, and never tired of it. IN fact, when other fags tried to offer themselves to me, I generally turned them down - I wanted to use Bill's fag.

Eventually, Bill told me that the slave was about ready to be replaced, because it was "too old". it was 21, and Bill wanted a younger piece of meat (he was a real sick fuck). I was planning on moving to California, so I asked him what he was going to do with it. He said, "I want to make sure I never hear from it again". That sounded kind of ominous to me. Without even thinking about it, I said, "I'm moving to California, how about you let me take it off your hands?" Bill agreed.

So one day (the day I was moving) I showed up with my van packed. There was a bed in the back where I could sleep, and it was a panel van - no windows. There was even a divider between front and back, so even in the midst of summer, the back of the van was pitch dark. I showed up at Bill's place, and we concluded the agreement. Then he unlocked a lock he had on the slave, handed me its leash, and told the faggot "you belong to him now." Without waiting, I dragged it naked out of the house, threw it in the back (it was already cuffed) and slammed the door and drove off.

But starting over in San Francisco was not going to exactly be easy, as I had no job lined up. So I knew I would need the faggot to work and contribute to the household. Fortunately, it's very smart, talented and accomplished, so I knew it could get work. The first night, I told it that we were moving, and that I was now its owner. But to the outside world, we would present as a gay couple. I told it that it would be a 24/7 slave, but it would have to maintain in public, including having friends and a job and doing things normal guys do. Then I gave it the option: it could leave, then and there (we were in a campground in Pennsylvania somewhere) and be free, or it was mine. it had no clothes, no money, no anything, so I would release it, then and there, start naked. But I knew it would be okay, and would find a way to survive. I assumed it would have become a truck stop whore to start.

But it didn't hesitate, and it agreed to everything. I brought it to San Francisco, found an apartment, and we started living together.

So ever since then, everyone has thought I was gay. My parents, my family, my friends - they all think I'm queer. Most don't know that I fuck women on the side. But I"ve never - and I mean NEVER - found a woman who was half the slave my faggot is. it's a pretty remarkable piece of meat. It's not the best looking guy, for sure, but it's incredibly smart and it is devoted to being a faggot slave. it truly believes I own it.  Because I do.