I woke after a few minutes and eased myself to my feet. As he suggested, there was a key at the bottom of the envelope with an address on the tag. I gathered my things to leave.
In my fantasy, I would walk from the office proudly betraying the juice staining my pants and confess my faggotry to my coworkers and boss as I quit and began my new life serving my Master. His wishes, however, were crystal clear, so I used my briefcase to hide the stain, excused myself as unwell and slunk out of the office.
The address on the tag was in an unfashionable, cheap bedroom community close to the same train line as my office. Floor after floor of tiny apartments occupied mostly by single, male labourers, recently arrived migrants, service workers. No elevator, so I climbed the stairs to the fifth floor to find the apartment the key would unlock.
I hesitated at the door, realising I had no idea what lay inside. A gang of men? Master Himself? More horrifying surprises? I let out the breath I was holding and opened the door.
Inside, a single room – a mattress on the floor, a clothes rack with some of the clothes from my old house, a small desk with a straight-backed chair, an internet modem plugged into the wall and turned on. A small kitchenette stocked with simple food. In one corner of the room, a modest weight set, in the other a device I didn’t recognise. The desk had nothing on it, but a note with some instructions and the wireless password.
Reading through the instructions twice to make sure I had it right, I took my laptop from my bag and connected it to the power and the network positioning it in front of the unfamiliar machine. I took off my stained pants and the rest of my clothes, folding them neatly in a pile on the mattress. Getting down on all fours in front of the machine, I located what the note described as “Master’s cock” – a dildo attached to an arm at the front. Wiping whatever slime hadn’t dried on my pants over it and adding saliva from my mouth and throat by deep-throating it a little, I lubricated the cock as the instructions demanded. Still on all fours, I turned to place the cock against my cunthole, so I was facing the laptop.
I logged into my bank account discovering, with a little surprise, my full salary and some previous money still there. His final instructions became suddenly clearer. I scanned the corners of the ceiling to find the dropcams He has positioned, red lights blinking. I am under His gaze whenever he wishes.
I eased myself backward onto the cock, relishing the burning entry into my under-prepared cunthole – further use from Him, letting Him ever deeper into my being. I dragged the laptop toward me so I could still type and found the control box for the machine. I gingerly turned the machine on and dialed up the speed until it began to move, plunging the cock deep into my cunt. I gasp-screamed at the sudden violation, then wiggled further onto it. The machine eased the cock out, then plunged it in again. My cunt quickly adapted to the rhythm of “Master’s cock” hammering me into deeper submission.
Once I grew accustomed to the machine, I turned my attention to the laptop and began to follow His final instructions and began the ritual which I was to follow every payday. The balance read “$6598.35” and so I began gently, by setting up a transfer for $100 as His cock plunged deep into me once more. I had a sudden flash of memory – the first time I ever drained $100 in one go, the ecstasy of it, how stupid and wonderful I felt, not merely to have the money taken by a Superior Alpha, but to tribute it, unable to stop myself from simply giving it when he asks, to choose to give this much in one go.
I submit the transfer as the cock plunges once again and the ecstasy of the drain washes through me. I set up the next transfer for $200, slowly, methodically, relishing the new life I have begun.
[read the whole fantasy]