My Life as My Father's Slave

WARNING: this story contains incest, pure homophobia, forced domination and slavery, violence and other elements that may be disturbing to those who do not like this kind of thing. If this is your case, I advise against reading it

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My father didn't look for me that night and let me sleep, well, at least try to. The next morning, not knowing what I was going to do or how to deal with what my father was proposing, I got up and went to the kitchen. It was Saturday. He was already there, having breakfast. He had a few papers next to him, which he seemed to be reading. I greeted him and sat down, though I didn't eat anything. I just sat there quietly, with my head down. My father said to me shortly in a very soft voice:

-Ethan, have you reflected? I know it's hard, but unfortunately we have no choice, son....

I shook my head, dejected. I could only stammer:

-Dad, you had promised me....

-I know, son, don't you think I don't know? -he replied just as softly-. But how could I count on this? Do you think I like it? I'd give anything not to have come to this situation, but now we have to face it. Are you willing?

Again, utterly dejected, I shook my head and stood up. I simply could not accept it. My father went to stop me:

-Please, Ethan, don't go away again...

I ignored him and headed for the door. Then what I would never have expected happened. A sharp jolt from the necklace sent me to my knees on the floor. Unbelieving what I had just felt, I turned to my father with an infinitely accusing look.

-I didn't want to do it -he defended himself-. You made me. And I need you to know one thing -he continued in the same soft tone of voice but now much firmer-, I won't let them take you away from me! I'm willing to do anything to stop them! And I will go over your head if I have to, do you understand?

I nodded, frightened and overwhelmed. I had never seen my father like this. I suddenly felt a strange mixture of respect and fear for him.

-Sit down and eat your breakfast, please -he ordered me, in a low but imperious voice, pointing to the chair.

I obeyed, still dazed, and ate for a while, while he went back to his papers, both of us in silence, and when I finished, I looked at him. He looked back at me and said, in a much warmer and more affectionate tone:

-Do you understand that we have to do this? I need us to be in this together, son, we are a team. That's the only way we can succeed and get through this.

-Yes, I guess so, Dad -I agreed. The truth was that he was right, as much as it hurt, so I didn't want to rebel any more, especially since I was still feeling the pain of the electric shock.

-Well, then we can start -and smiling warmly at me he added-, you'll see it won't be as hard as you think.

-Right now? -I said incredulously.

-What better time to start? -he replied cheerfully-. The sooner we get started the sooner we'll get used to it and be able to fool the inspector, don't you think? -And without waiting for an answer, he went on, taking some of the papers: -Look, I have retrieved all my notes from the slave training course. We'll start with those. However, Bill, who is much more of an expert than I am at this, has promised to stop by some evening to monitor our progress and make suggestions. He really is a good friend. We are lucky to have him.

-I'm listening to you, Dad -I agreed in a determined voice. I was now determined to do everything I could to not lose my father. I knew he was doing it for my own good and the alternative was truly terrifying.

-Then let's get started. Stand up, please -I obeyed-. In the presence of his owner or any free man a slave never sits, unless he receives express permission to do so -as he instructed me he consulted his notes-. Now undress. You will always be naked, you will only have the right to wear the loincloth they gave you in the courthouse.

-I don't have that loincloth anymore, Dad -I replied as I took off my pajamas-. I... I threw it away. It was an awful thing. I didn't think I'd need it -I excused myself.

-Yes, I suppose that's logical -he excused me too, sympathetic-. Well, I'll have to get one on Monday, they are, as it were, the "official uniform" of the slaves. In the meantime, I'll allow you to be in your underpants.

"I'll allow you?" I froze to hear my father speak like that. He was quickly slipping into his role. A shiver of fear shook my body. My father noticed it and thought it was from cold.

-Don't worry, I'll turn up the heat just enough so you won't be cold when you're naked. I know you are very sensitive to cold -he smiled warmly at me again.

-Thank you, Dad -I said sincerely and thanked him for the smile.

-Well, that's our first rule -he said, frowning a little-, I'm your father, but now I'm also your owner. Therefore, you owe me the utmost respect in dealing with me. From now on I will no longer be "Dad" to you. You will address me as "Master", understood?

-Yes -I said, astonished. Everything was so strange to me that it seemed unreal....

-Yes... what? -he encouraged me to continue, arching an eyebrow. It took me a while to figure out what he wanted.

-Yes... Master -I concluded.

-That's it! -He said jovially-, See how it's not that hard? You'll be a perfect slave in no time -I don't think my father was aware of the effect his words had on me-. I won't be able to call you "Ethan" or "son" from now on either. I will address you as "slave" or "servant". Later, when the inspector is here, I may have to use more demeaning terms, like "faggot," "scumbag," or "scum." I hope you don't get mad at me for that -he said, winking at me.

I was feeling how each thing he said to me was sinking me deeper and deeper into a bottomless pit. Nevertheless, I tried my best to keep my composure and please my father. "We are a team," I told myself. My father went on to quote to me the rules that were to govern our lives for the next few weeks:

-Of course, I'm afraid all the house chores are going to fall to you now. A free man cannot do housework if he has a slave to do it for him -it was clear that he was trying to justify himself, and that he felt guilty-. Well, at least you will be busy, because... another thing -here he hesitated, being aware of what he was going to ask me-, you will have to give me your cell phone, your computer, your console... A slave has no right to leisure or free time. He must always be attentive to his master and his well-being.

You can imagine my desolation when I heard this. Everything I had enjoyed so much those days was going to be taken away from me. My father noticed my dismay and I sensed that it affected him. But he got over it and continued:

-For the time being you will continue to sleep in your room, but when the inspector arrives he will have to stay in it, so we will have to find you another place to sleep. We'll figure it out. You won't be using our bathroom anymore either. Instead you'll use the one next to the garage in the basement -he thought for a moment, consulting his notes-. I'll have to fix it so that when the inspector comes, no hot water comes out of the shower or the sink. Those are comforts reserved for free men, a slave has no right to them.

You will get up before me and be ready before your first duty of the day, which will be to wake me, shower and dress me, once you have prepared breakfast. During breakfast, and at all meals, you will not sit at the table, but will stand all the time, serving me and looking after any need I may have. You will eat afterwards, when I permit you to do so. In fact -he looked at his papers again-, from now on you will have to ask my permission for everything, absolutely everything, from eating to washing or even going to use the bathroom -my mind was trying to assimilate all this, totally overwhelmed.

-I don't need to tell you that you will comply with any order I give you, whatever it may be, immediately and without complaining. And, although I will be somewhat tolerant in this at first, you will not speak unless you are asked, understood?

I nodded. My father frowned and said to me with a stern expression:

-Answer me properly, slave -it was the first time he called me that and I felt death in my heart.

-Yes... Master -I hastened to answer. It was hard for me to address him like that, my dear father.

-Much better! -he said, while his lips curved into a wide smile. And touching my face a little, he said: -You'll do very well, you'll see. But I must warn you: I will be patient with you until you get used to it, but if you don't follow these rules or fail in anything I command you, you will be punished. I have already told you that I will do anything not to lose you. When I am forced to punish you, you will know that it will hurt me more than you and that I am doing everything for your sake, understood?

-Yes, Master -I agreed dejectedly. I had always hated that refrain from all fathers and it seemed to me totally fallacious. How could someone as intelligent as my father be falling for it?

He patted me on the cheek and said jovially:

-That's my dear slave! Well, you know where you have to start -he nodded to the dirty breakfast dishes and went out to the living room, where he settled comfortably on the sofa while I set about scrubbing, utterly desolate and cursing my fate, unhappy that it seemed so hard! I had no idea of what was to come....

When I finished washing up the breakfast dishes I went to the living room, where my father was sitting watching TV. I approached him, hesitantly. When he saw me and understood that I wanted to tell him something, he said to me:

-Slave - it was unbelievable to me to hear him call me that -whenever you wish to tell me something raise your hand a little. I will decide at every moment whether I let you speak or not -his words, though spoken with affability, wounded me like daggers. I raised my hand and he said to me:

-Speak!

-Master... I'm done in the kitchen. Can I... can I go to my room?

-No, you can't, I'm sorry -he said, looking truly sorry-. As a slave, you have to be active. Listen, you can start cleaning the garage, it needs a lot of work -he smiled-, and then you can take care of the yard. I'd like to grow something there and you can take care of it. And by the way -he stood up-, give me your cell phone, computer and console right now. I'll put them in the safe. For the moment you can't use them anymore.

Devastated, I went to my room and brought him my devices. He took them to his room, where he had the safe, put them in there and locked it. He then told me to go out, that he was going to change the combination, as I knew the old one. Until then we had shared everything. On returning to the living room he said to me, a little impatiently:

-Come on, slave, what are you waiting for? I've already told you what you have to do....

I left and started cleaning the garage. It was a job that would take me days. We had been using it as a storage room for ages, as we used to park the car outside. It was cluttered with junk that I had to start sorting through. I only stopped when my father came and ordered me to prepare lunch. I did so and then had to stand, as he had instructed, while he ate, attentive at all times to refill his glass, remove his plate or whatever needs he had. He did not speak to me at any time, although I could tell it was a tremendous effort for him to be quiet. We had always been very close and constantly talked about everything with each other. Finally, he ordered me:

-You eat something, wash the pots and continue in the garage - he told me as he got up and went back to the living room. I shyly raised my hand.

-Tell me -he urged me.

-Master... I need to use the bathroom, may I?

I noticed on his face a mixture of admiration and sadness. No doubt the sight of his beloved son having to ask his permission simply to use the bathroom was beyond him, even if it was his command. He got over it and said, forcing a smile on his grim face:

-Of course, servant. Go

-Thank you, Master -he smiled again and, shaking his head with a "what nonsense is all this!" expression, headed for the living room.

I stayed in the garage all afternoon until it was time to prepare dinner. My father, no doubt concerned and feeling guilty, stopped by a couple of times and asked me if I was okay, to which I nodded warmly. "We're a team," I kept repeating to me. Dinner went just like lunch, and when I finished washing up, I appeared in the living room, where my father was already settled on the couch. When he looked at me I raised my hand and he gave me permission to speak:

-Master, may I... may I stay with you?

He thought a little, I saw the struggle inside him, but this time he could not refuse:

-Yes, slave - he granted me. I went to sit down on the sofa, but immediately a look from him stopped me. I looked at him, questioningly, and he pointed to the floor. Resigned, I sat down on the floor, next to the couch. We were watching a movie in silence. On a couple of occasions, however, my father's hand went to my head, stroking my hair for a few seconds before he pulled it away, reminding himself that this was not appropriate between a master and a slave. When the movie was over, he got up and said to me:

-Go to sleep, slave, and remember your duties for tomorrow when you get up.

Instinctively I went to kiss him goodnight, I had been doing it for so many years! He rejected me immediately. My face of desolation must have been such that he broke down and said to me, forgetting his own teachings:

-Son, it can't be. We have to avoid any kind of show of affection. I know it will be very hard, but there is no other choice... I... I... -he hurriedly went to his room, I think so that I would not see him crying. He was almost more overcome by the situation than I was. I felt really sorry for him. I should have felt much more sorry for myself, had I known what the future held.

The next morning I awoke promptly, made breakfast and went to my father's room. I gently woke him up. He greeted me with a smile and told me to wait for him in the bathroom. There, after his usual morning pee, he ordered me to take off his pajamas and get into the shower with him. Once there, I began to gently soap his body.

My father was quite a macho specimen. He was not yet 45 years old and his body, worked out in the gym since he was very young due to his job as a cop, was simply perfect. Muscled but without exaggeration, hairy but not too much, big, strong, and, above all, incredibly virile. His face was tremendously attractive as well: handsome, with a brown beard and beautiful honey-colored eyes, which I had inherited. Oddly enough I had never thought of him sexually, my enormous filial love for him had prevented me from doing so. However, now, gently touching that incredible body, the firmness and at the same time softness of that skin, of those muscles, I began to experience unknown sensations. My gaze could not help but focus on his crotch, where rested a cock of considerable dimensions, even flaccid, and two huge testicles, perfect and proportionate. I couldn't help thinking that the semen in those marvelous balls had given me life.

While I was soaping him up, he had closed his eyes, letting himself relax. This he did seem to be enjoying. The same thing happened to me, but in a different way. Without being able to help it, I started to get aroused and, of course, being naked, I couldn't hide it. When I had to soap his cock and balls I was breathless before the god that was my father, and I had an incredible erection. So much so that at one point it brushed against my father's body and he noticed. He opened his eyes and realized what was happening. Suddenly he was shocked and I saw on his face an expression of huge embarrassment. I, too, blushed tremendously red. He gently but firmly pushed me away and said:

-Drop it, I'll finish... go and prepare breakfast, go on...

I got out of the shower, dazed and disturbed. Later, when he was having breakfast, my father said to me, clearly uncomfortable and avoiding my gaze:

-The washing and dressing in the mornings, let's drop it, shall we? I don't think the inspector is going to go into the bathroom with us, so I guess that part of the training won't be necessary...

-Yes, Master -I agreed, clearly disappointed. It was the first thing I had ever enjoyed in my life as a slave and it had just been taken away from me.

For three or four days our dynamic was more or less the same as that first day. It started to become more natural for both of us to slip into our roles and things started to flow. For him much more easily than for me, of course. I had to work all the time, while he didn't lift a finger at home. So one day my father announced to me that his partner Bill would be joining us for a snack that afternoon. He wanted him to see our progress and to give us advice. I felt a pang of unease. Was I going to have to be like that in front of a stranger? I pulled myself together as best I could, thinking that we had to do well in front of Bill. "We're a team," I repeated to myself.

To be continued...