Legal Note: All characters are of legal age of 18 and above. The reference to boy is a reference for submissive and demeaning purposes.
Marcus looked like a common slave, as he looked into the mirror. Only, technically, he was not actually a slave at all.
His head had been shaved like a slave's head. His body too. He even wore a chastity cage on his little dicklet, and instead of a collar he wore a thick silver chain. He began to dress in his slave handler's uniform at the slave entrance of his lover's mansion. His lover was Manfred Giles. He had not slept in his own bed for months now. As far as his parents were aware, he was living at work in the employees' digs. He had been doing that on and off since he began his job on the farm, just after his eighteenth birthday. It had simply got more frequent.
He knew one day he would come out to everyone as the faggot he was. Today however, wasn't that day, or so he thought.
He had a 'gentlemen's agreement' with Manfred that he would not have Marcus enslaved unless Marcus actually wanted to become a slave. Marcus trusted him and he had every reason to trust him. However, the lines between slave and freeman were getting a little blurry. He was always naked in Manfred's mansion, looking no more or no less than the slaves that served Manfred in the mansion.
From the very first day he was invited back to the mansion he had been treated in such a way. He had entered the mansion from the slaves' entrance and stripped naked, then waited for his next instruction in the slave foyer. He knew better than to stand or walk about the small foyer. He knelt down on his knees, like a slave would, and waited. He waited for over an hour. He was cold and naked. Marcus knew it was nothing but a test. He was nervous and his heart missed a beat once the door opened.
"Crawl!" he heard an older man's voice order him. The voice wasn't Manfred's voice, he guessed, but he guessed right it was the head slave's voice. This man was a lesser being on paper than himself - and yet he responded to his instruction and crawled through the door.
"Heel! And look at me!"
After heeling, Marcus raised his head looking up at a slave in white slave shorts and a thin white T-shirt. He had a thin silver collar, and his hair was almost non-existent. Marcus knew that Manfred liked his house staff looking like this, and the head of the household was no exception. The head slave's face was gaunt and grey-looking, although he looked healthy too. He looked satisfied with his life and yet confused by what a free boy was doing naked on the floor of an old man's household. He knew exactly why he was there, as his owner had explained to him. However, he didn't understand why a freeman would do this to himself.
"I am to present you to master in thirty minutes time," he told the boy. "You are to be cleaned out and I then will take you into the master's sitting room. We must work fast and ensure you are clean for your service this evening."
Imagine being in a position that you are the free man, yet you allowed yourself to be violated in such a way by someone who was enslaved. The humiliation would make you hard. Your face becoming crimson whilst you are being filled with countless gallons of water, and emptying yourself to be clean. Your ass being shaved using a formula of shave foam for slaves that penetrates through the skin, burning into the skin a little and opening the skin for a closer cut with a cut throat razor.
The only hair that was remaining would be above your eyebrows. Marcus' heart felt low in his stomach, as I am certain your heart would be too. Marcus's boy cock was hard as iron, as I am certain yours would be too.
Finally he was ready to be taken to see Manfred in his sitting room.
He was allowed to stand as he entered the room, although the head slave had ordered him to keep his head downwards, like a good slave would. He could see before him a slave, naked on 'its' hands and knees. The boy had a pair of feet on 'its' back. The boy was being used as a foot stool. Marcus longed to be used in such a way. He then heard Manfred's voice. "Come here boy!" He took it, rightly, as an order for himself, and moved forward.
"Stop!"
He obeyed the command in the centre of the room. Marcus felt embarrassed, for his little dicklet was throbbing now He looked downwards and recognised the footstool boy's face. It was the boy that Manfred had enslaved for the detriment of property. The boy he had watched being mauled in the arena not so long ago. The same boy he'd spied on being made to fuck himself on Manfred's man meat in his office, and the same boy he'd seen naked and reduced to enslavement when he returned a day or two later to the farm.
The boy didn't see Marcus looking down on him enviously, as his head was also looking downwards in shame and degradation.
"Move forward boy! Face forward boy, and the head up, boy," was the master's clear instruction which he obeyed to the letter in fear of any repercussions.
The moment he raised his head, their eyes locked. Marcus' truth flooded into the slave's brain. He understood what Marcus was, and if he had not then Manfred's next words would have made it perfectly clear.
"Get onto the slave's back faggot, on all fours, your head above its ass and your ass above his head," Manfred ordered Marcus abruptly.
Manfred had promised Marcus that he would not reveal his secret to a freeman and he kept his word. However, Marcus felt this was worse,mounting a slave in this way. It was clear what Marcus' role would be that evening.
Manfred entered the boy's mouth and ordered him to slime up. He worked the freeman's cock hard and long, coating it with slime from his mouth. Manfred withdrew and then he entered the slaves fuck hole.
Marcus was nothing more than a lube machine for Manfred right then.Marcus looked down as the old man entered his former work colleague. The fat, ugly old man's belly began to cushion his face. Marcus then realised, in his horror, something that made him uncomfortable. Something that made him realised how low he was falling now.
A cock was entering his fuck hole from behind. He yelped a little, more in shock than pain as the cock was forced in. Manfred piled into the slave who was now holding them both upwards.
Marcus knew whose cock it was instantly. The gaunt, grey skinned slave who ran the mansion was actually fucking him. He was actually being fucked by a lower being. The thought made him excited, and yet he felt ashamed. He began to get used to the man's thin, yet long cock. He could feel the head slave's hands mauling his body. Manfred then withdrew from the slave below him and entered his mouth again.
He could faintly taste the boy's hole on Manfred's cock. The head slave fucked him harder.
He understood what he was. He was a fuck hole for two true men. He was being used for their pleasure.
His body was feeling the fuck now. He was beginning to get tighter, and closer, himself.
Manfred was the first to gush into the boys mouth, followed by the head slave.hen, with no warning, the fucker pulled him by the hair away from Manfred and out of the room, across the hallway and down a set of stone stairs, into the mansions slavery. He was then slapped by the head slave, for no reason than the man could slap the boy, and then he was pushed onto the ground.
Surrounding him were at least five naked slaves. All beefy and full of muscles. All with collars round their necks. He understood who they were. He had seen the type before.
They were the outside slaves. The gardeners, the muscled slaves that he had admired working naked on Manfred's gardens. All of them had hard cocks and Marcus understood his purpose. He was there to serve them as their fuck toy for the night. Nothing but their whore.
The following morning, as Marcus was sent back to the farm, he felt totally violated. Totally used and yet totally turned on. He felt a complete and utter used faggot by the end of his first visit.
Everyone knows the fable of the frog in the boiling water. That the frog would jump out of the water once put in. However, if you place a frog in cold water and slowly boil the water, the frog would not jump out, but its fate would be far more sinister.
It is the same when you change something about you. As a rule people do not notice. You don't notice people get old or gain weight, or even lose weight. In the same way you don't notice someone change from quiet boy to raging faggot, if done slowly and over time.
That was where Marcus was at the moment he looked in the mirror. He had had no chance to jump out, nor anyone to warn him what was happening. Over time he had turned into a true cock sucking faggot.
There was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
There was absolutely nothing he wanted to do about it.
That very morning, he sneaked into work from the mansion across from the farm. No one saw him, but it was still early, and many people simply thought he was keen about his job. His appearance was not much different to many slave police officers these days, who have recently been following the trend of short hair and clean shaven. Nothing appeared different or stuck out. He just put his head down and worked away.
A rumour had begun about him. Nothing like you would have thought though.
Someone saw him being escorted into Manfred's office by the owner himself, shortly after a slave-hand had been sentenced to a detriment order by Manfred himself.
People thought that Manfred had 'bollocked' Marcus for 'something', giving him the scolding of a lifetime, and had threatened him with a similar fate to the slave hand who was now merely a slave in Manfred's household. Little did anyone know the truth.
