"It's far from over... Go on! Tell the world what had happened. You muscle slave! Tell everyone how you had gone from hero to zero!" Master stood behind me as I sat naked in front of the computer with a word document opened.
In the dark room, a cold blue glow emitted from the monitor projected on my smooth muscular sportsman body, completely naked shaven from head to toe; Master's words were true, a slave doesn't deserve to have hair on its body.
He wrapped his hands over me from behind and whispered in my ears, "Look at you, the freshly crowned football champion, the king who was undefeated on the field... agile like a horse leaving the opponents in dust, and strong like a wild bear tearing through the field pushing away even the heaviest tank, who could've stopped an alpha top dog like you..."
His fingers slowly glided over the outline of my muscles, soothing the battle scars resulted from my injuries over years of brutal reckless competitive sports, I sat motionless staring to the front, "All these defined muscle you built up from years of training and competitive sports... biceps thick and tough like a steel cannon gun, thick beefy chest and well defined six pack abs perfect for cushioning any impacts on the field, muscular durable thighs and legs enabling you to bolt like a lightning in an instant... The body of a sport God..."
He was soothing over my shaven head and face, and I sat still and straight remaining a blank expression, "And oh so macho and handsome! The face of a Greek God! Remember just yesterday how you always kept your black hair in military style, power clean and sharp looking, freshly trimmed on the sides while styling the top like a wild hurricane powered through? And those macho stubble that always shadowing over your face! You sexy thick hair dog! Remember just how your tough muscular athletic body was always covered in fur, a forest of macho chest hair, and a seductive treasure trail on your abs leading down to your thick dense pubes that only a real man deserves to have? Well, not for now, not anymore ever again!"
Master paused and smiled into a big grin, extremely delighted at the sight of his obedient muscle slave sitting quietly waiting for his command.
"That wasn't the best part yet. Boy o'boy! What a macho man you were! You were the chosen one out of a billion! The alpha top dog athletically and genetically gifted as a male! You know what I am talking about, you flaunted your arrogant meaty penis around every chance you had, flapping that big piece of junk around and shamelessly showing off your superior masculinity. You know, people would've paid top money to extract your bull stud sperm to breed new generations of macho hunky big dick sports legacy just like you once were... Your vital potent seed could've worth millions!"
"But," Master glided his hand past my thick chest, slowly down beyond my mountain of six pack abs where my treasure trail once planted, and stopped at my completely smooth frontal where once my pubes grew wildly like a bush of untameable weed, pronouncing the masculinity of my adult male hood.
"....that's all history, as a matter of fact, isn't it? Just yesterday but oh so far away."
I sat naked on the chair with my legs spread apart, Master slowly glided his hand further south down to my crotch... where the representation of my masculinity laid, the most vulnerable and private part of me, my precious manhood, my definition of being a man.
And his hand touched nothing.
Nothing, my crotch was completely empty, lacking any signs of vital manhood anywhere. I am no more a man, and I never will be again.
Despite all my bulging muscle, tough and thick from head to toe, the most important piece of muscle as a man, the representation of me being once a male, had been taken away.
After the last victorious football game ever in my life yesterday, I submitted myself as a loyal slave to Master and willingly headed over the ownership of my pride and glory.
Master's fingers playfully rubbed on my still fresh scar where my top notch male organs once rooted, my source of masculinity, my identity, my pride, my fertility, my hopes and dreams of carrying on my legacy to new generations of little big dick athletic boys -- utterly demolished.
But it doesn't matter, I am a slave, and I have no rights to reproduce like what a real man does. I don't deserve to have a penis nor testicles, I was a disgrace to be a man, a pathetic imposer with a fake shell of a sport alpha.
Master helped me to realize I was a failure as a man, and I handed over my badge of male hood to him, forever.
He drew an end to my masculinity, a period on my glory as a sportsman, a complete foot stop on the map of my family bloodline, demolishing my alpha top stud genes.
He was right to extinguish my slave seeds.
Who cares where my 10 inches meaty penis and testicles size of goose egg were by then, probably somewhere in the sewer Master had flushed them down at.
Twenty years of vital potent masculinity, becoming the top notch football champion, my manhood grew thick and strong like a tree, but instead of planting my seed to continue my family's legacy, who would've guessed I would end up becoming a dickless slave, my glorious champion's manhood, my manly fuck-tool that was once the envy of every men, my masculinity ending up rotting among a pile of shit, dirty rat feasting on my big dead penis, and sipping the essence juice of my alpha sportsman's dead seed out of my cracked open goose egg testicles.
I didn't care, not for a bit.
"Now, tell the world what has happened. You dickless slave!" Master grinned in delight.
And I began typing.
* * * * *
My name is Kent. No, not the Superman, but that's where my name came from. My dad was always obsessed with him, Clark Kent, so it was a no brainer for him to name me after his idol super hero. Growing up with a super hero fanatic wasn't easy, my dad had high hopes and expectation of me, he began a football coach only made my childhood playtime nothing but football, football, and more football. He always said that to me, "Son, You have to be a man, not an ordinary one, but the man of men, just like Superman, a honest, strong, and responsible figure! The alpha top dog where everyone looks upon to you!"
All those constant expectation and pressure was wearing me out, but I still enjoyed sports as my body was built for it. Growing up I was always the tallest, biggest kid in school, long legs and durable arms and chest allowed me to play on the field all day without taking a break. At the young age of 14, I was already offered a scholarship to a nice college, that's how good my athletic skill was! My old man couldn't be prouder!
I wasn't the most outgoing kid, sure I was always popular and had herd of admirers. I just didn't have any time to socialize with my peers outside of hours of training designed by my dad.
" RUN FASTER! YOU CALL YOURSELF A MAN?" Dad shouted at me as my speed dropped after running continuously for hours under the hot burning sun.
I picked up my pace trying my best to not disappoint my old man, but he was never satisfied, "FASTER!!! FASTER!!! YOU RUN LIKE THERE'S A STICK UP YOUR ASS!"
He magnified every small mistakes I had made on the field and smacked my head afterward, "Your stance was horrible! You looked like a faggot with his ass up in the air begging to be fucked!", "IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN DO? WHY DON'T YOU JUST DROP ON YOUR KNEES AND SUCK DICKS FOR A LIVING?"
As a young kid, I would always held back my tears, and swallowed them back up, "Just run, Kent, keep running! Fuck everything, just don't be a disappointment to dad!"
The minute I left school practice, exhausted like a dead man already, my dad would drag me to the field for more practices til the night come.
There was no time for me to have a social life.
I couldn't catch a breath in high school, when words came around I already had a college football scholarship on top of my head, my teammates were jealous with their eyes red as fire, treating me as a outsider and would only communicate with me on the field.
"Oh, you can do that easy! Kent the Man, why need us on the team? You can do it all!, Mister big shot with a scholarship!" They always threw their gears everywhere, purposely leaving behind their sweaty jock strap laying on the ground, and expected me to clean up after them.
I stood naked in the middle of my high school locker, trying to hold back my tears of feeling the utter loneliness as if there was no place for me to catch a breath and enjoy life, "Be strong, Kent! You are a man! You are not a weak dickless faggot! Be the alpha and lead the world!"
When I was finally sent off to college, the whole town gathered around and hosted a farewell party just for me.
"We are so proud of you, Kent!!! You are our town's pride and glory!!!" The town mayor shake my hand in joy and respect.
"Kent the mannnn! Show them folks in the big town what you are packing!" My high school football mates chanted together, giving me rounds of high fives, the closest they had ever been to me in four years of school.
I left the town as a victorious hero, I was Kent the Man, the symbol of macho superhero for every boys in my town.
Fast forward to now where I am 20 years old, a junior in college far away from my hometown, it wasn't easy to move away from my small town where everything was closed together.
To where I am now, my new home state was infamous for everything's being miles apart from each other, and bigger as they claimed.
Certainly, for a fact I knew it wasn't true, as a man grew up in a small town, at least what I was packing was bigger and stronger than any naive born men I have ever encountered.
What could I say? I was the top dog among men, not only I had amazing sportsmanship, years of training built my body strong as a bull, standing at 6'5, 250lbs, I was pure beefy muscle, my muscular chest and arms bulging under whatever I wore. I was so pumped with testosterone, hair grew wildly on my body like a real man.
I was delighted with pride every time I took off my shirt, every men in the room would be amazed and jealous of my macho hairy chest, like a proud lion with his muff standing tall among them.
But there wasn't the best part yet. I knew men always sneaked peaks at me and chattered away with each other as I was getting changed in the locker room, I had heard it all, some were compliments, some were jealousy rumblings, "Look at that dude's ripe muscles! Amazing! Those abs could grate cheese for days!", "Yea so? I bet he's all muscle but nothing in where it counts for a man! Trying to overcompensate his tiny little weiner with all his muscle. Nothing but inferior button dick loser!"
That's when I smirked silently; as if God decided giving me the physic of Superman wasn't enough, he also blessed me in my manhood.
I casually but purposely repositioned myself so I was facing everyone in the locker room, and as I dropped my pants so did their jaws.
My pride, 10 inches uncut man pipe thicker than a baby's leg came flying out of my pants, dangling between my crotch following every movement I made, flapping left and right like a hook.
Some of the guys cursed under their breath, quickly put on their clothes and rushed off, running away like a defeated dog with their little tail tugged between their legs.
I always laughed my head off, looking down to my pole, "Geeze! My little buddy isn't even close to hard yet! Hahaha"
