Betrayed and Enslaved


The world was totally changed. After the pandemic and after the economic disaster, my country had become a dictatorship and civil rights had been drastically reduced. The worst part, however, had been borne by homosexual men. While lesbians were tolerated, gays had been considered “enemies of the state” and fierce persecution had begun. At first they were simply arrested and taken to prison, but then it went one step further: they were stripped of all their rights as individuals and it became commonplace for them to be declared slaves and become the mere property of someone, usually the person who had denounced them.

It is in this ruthless society that my story begins…

That morning I went for a walk and did some shopping. On my walk I noticed that more and more slaves were being seen on the street or in the stores. It was very easy to recognize them. First of all, because they were completely naked, except for a kind of loincloth that covered their genitals, although on cold days they were allowed to wear a kind of succinct uniform of sackcloth that covered their bodies. Also because they all wore a special collar around their necks. I had never seen one up close. I had heard that they were used for training and control of the slaves. They produced electric shocks that rendered the slave useless for any rebellious act. The truth is that they aroused my curiosity; little could I have imagined at that moment what one of those collars would mean in my life!

When I saw one of those slaves with his owner, I remembered my friend Joe. The master had the slave on a leash around his neck, and the slave was on all fours following him as best he could. At least the master had had the mercy to put some knee pads on him so he wouldn’t hurt himself too much on his journey. I remembered that I had once played that game with Joe. He was a man I had met – in a free time – through a BDSM and fetish contact web. I was looking for sex with a certain fetish touch, I liked to be verbally humiliated, to worship feet, some slutty practice…. Joe, however, was looking for an absolute slave, someone who would totally surrender to him.

He was straight, but he was especially turned on by dominating men. It made him feel more powerful. Since that wasn’t what I was looking for, we didn’t get very far sexually. I never accepted the “total surrender” he was asking for. However, we explored in some sessions our common tastes: I loved his feet, I was his dog for some games, I had even eaten his cock or licked his ass sometime as a sign of submission, as he was not too interested in homosexual sex. Sexually he preferred women. As a result of that, however, we had developed a good friendship, we ate together from time to time, and I had even spent a weekend at his house. He lived on the outskirts of the city, in a country house, in a housing development. At that moment I remembered him and made a mental note to call him, since it had been a long time since our last meeting.

The sight of those slaves was quite disturbing to me, being a homosexual myself and knowing that my fate could be that if I was discovered. However, I was not too afraid. I had kept myself pretty much in the closet and when things had started to get ugly I had deleted all my flirting applications and had given up sex altogether, so it was very difficult for me to be found out. In addition, it was now more complicated to be denounced, since, in view of the abuses there had been with the denunciations at first (it was very greedy to denounce your neighbor or anyone for homosexuality and keep all their assets), the government had established that no denunciation would be accepted without evidence and, in addition, false denunciations would entail the enslavement of the denouncer.

Under these circumstances, who could report me? Apart from the people with whom I had had relations – who were obviously also Küçükyalı escort homosexuals – only my father and my brother knew about my condition. My relationship with them was not good, my father considered me a lazy and useless person, but he still helped me every time I was unemployed (which happened constantly). But even so, I didn’t think they were capable of denouncing me at all. And even if they had, they couldn’t provide any proof. Only their word.

However, all that false security I felt was going to be shattered that very afternoon…

I was at home reading the job offers when there was an aggressive knock on the door. I was surprised, because I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I went to open the door, only to find three big, burly policemen.

-Brandon Miller? -asked one of them in a strong and authoritative voice.

-Yes… it’s me -I answered, frightened.

And immediately and before I could react, two of them turned me around, grabbed my arms and handcuffed them behind my back. The commanding officer followed:

-You are under arrest for immoral and deviant conduct. You have the right to remain silent, etc., etc. -he continued to cite my rights to me like in the movies while I listened dumbfounded. However, when he finished, he totally changed his official tone and mockingly told me: -but don’t worry, very soon you will no longer have any rights, hahaha… -he laughed, being accompanied in his laughter by his two companions.

They put me abruptly in an official car and started to drive away. Two of them were in front and the third one next to me. When I was able to control my racing heartbeat, I asked:

-Agents, may I know what I am accused of?

They were talking among themselves and completely ignored me. I began to feel indignation and raised my voice:


They looked at me in surprise. However, as the only answer, the one next to me pulled out a taser gun from his belt and put it on my neck. I felt a tremendous electric shock and immediately lost consciousness.

When I regained it I was lying on a hard floor. When I sat up I realized that the handcuffs had been removed, but I was in a large cell, with other men in it. Some wore the collar and loincloth of slaves. None of them paid the slightest attention to me. They seemed engrossed in their own problems. I then approached the bars and banged on them and began to call out:


From a nearby door came out a policeman of a certain age, also big and burly. He said to me dismissively:

-Wow, are you going to start making trouble? Stop making a fuss, come on.

-I want to know why I’m here! I have the right!

He approached the bars and unexpectedly hit one of my knees hard with his truncheon. I fell to the ground, in immense pain, while the policeman condescendingly said to me:

-Son, start getting used to the fact that you no longer have the right to anything. And also watch your language. You are going to be a slave soon, and for a slave, any free man is a superior, to be respected and obeyed. From now on you will address free men as “Sir” and obey them in everything. If not it will go really badly for you -he said this last almost with a certain pity.

As the policeman went out again and I writhed on the floor in pain, it became clear to me that this could only be because I had been denounced as a homosexual. But who could it have been? How?

After many hours in the cell, during which I was not even offered a glass of water, the older policeman appeared again, accompanied by a man in a suit, undoubtedly some kind of official. The man checked some papers I was carrying and pointed at me. Then the policeman opened the cell and abruptly turned me around and placed handcuffs on my hands again. This time he did not limit himself Kartal escort bayan to that and also took a gag, one of those with a ball in the center, and put it in my mouth. Then he made me follow them roughly. I looked pleadingly at the man in the suit and he said succinctly:

-You are now going to be judged.

He did not add another word. After walking down some corridors we came to a large room where there were many people. It was a typical courtroom. There was a bench where a judge sat, a few policemen and a few people on benches. The policeman who was taking me led me to a slightly elevated spot where he made me stand. Then I saw him…

My friend Joe! He was there on a prominent bench, dressed in a suit and talking to another man, also in a suit, carrying a folder and papers, no doubt a lawyer. My heart skipped a beat and I almost fainted. It was him! He had betrayed me!

The trial began with the judge, a man of about 60 years of age, announcing that the citizen Brandon Miller had been denounced for homosexual practices by Mr. Joseph Richardson, who was present, and who was ordered to provide proof of his accusation. Joe stood up and said:

-Yes, Your Honor, some photos have come into my possession that will prove that the accused engaged in homosexual practices forbidden by law. Please… -he motioned to an agent and he operated a computer that immediately projected a photo on a screen. My heart stopped. It was a photo that clearly showed me licking some male feet. Jose made another sign and another photo appeared, in which I was sucking a cock. He passed several more of the same style, and looked at the judge with a triumphant expression. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was obvious that Joe had been treacherously taking pictures of me during our sessions. How could he have done something like that? I had complete trust in him.

Besides, I realized that at first glance it was completely impossible to identify the man I was pleasuring. Joe had guarded himself well against that. Obviously a detailed and serious investigation would have uncovered who the other participant in those acts was, but presumably the police had neither the time nor the inclination to carry out such an investigation. Joe, on the other hand, had been married and had had several relationships with women, who could attest without any doubt that he was heterosexual. He was completely safe. Nevertheless, I tried with all my might to scream, to accuse him of being the one who was with me in the photos, but the damn gag that had been placed in my mouth only allowed me to emit muffled sounds.

Joe sat back down and, a few minutes later, the judge said he was ready to deliver the verdict. In a firm, professional voice he announced:

-Hearing the accusation and having collated the evidence provided, I declare the accused Brandon Miller guilty of deviant acts and against morality, according to the law in force, and I condemn him to be enslaved and delivered to the citizen Joseph Richardson, who will be his owner.

At that moment he turned to me and looking me in the eyes continued:

-I want you to understand exactly what that means -the change of his tone of voice stripped me even more of my dignity-. From this moment on you are stripped of all your rights as a human being. All those assets you own will automatically belong to your master. Legally you become an object, one of his possessions. As your owner, you owe him absolute obedience and he may dispose of you in any way he pleases, including inflicting any harm on you or even putting you to death without there being any punishment for it – I was frozen, I felt like dying. The judge concluded, switching to an almost paternal tone: -Be a good slave and make your master proud to own you.

He banged his gavel and called the next case. Thus, in such a simple way, my life had Escort Suadiye taken a turn that was as unexpected as it was dramatic. The next thing I knew, I was shoved out of the courtroom and led into a small inner courtyard. There two policemen removed my gag and handcuffs and forced me to undress. Once I was completely naked they rubbed a kind of mud all over my body, which stuck firmly to my skin. As soon as they had covered me, it began to burn like fire, especially in the most sensitive areas. I lay writhing on the ground, unable to bear it. Then one of the policemen took a hose that was there and plugged it into me. The water hit me violently and, fortunately, calmed my burning, but, as he was removing the mud from my body, with it went all my hair, absolutely all of it, including the hair on my head. In a few minutes my body was completely hairless. When I was clean I was lifted up and put on the slave loincloth. In my head I sadly said goodbye to my clothes. I would never dress like a normal person again.

They then took me to a room with a dentist’s chair and medical equipment and made me sit down violently in the chair, to which they then tied my arms and legs and left the room. I was at that moment completely dejected and without the strength to resist. Soon a mature man in a doctor’s coat and holding an object in his hand entered the room. At first he did not address me. I immediately saw what he was holding in his hand: it was the infamous slave collar! I shook in desperation, but the ligatures that bound me prevented me from moving. It seemed to me that the man was smiling mockingly at my efforts, though I could not be sure. Then, slowly and methodically he placed it around my neck and secured it by carefully welding it. I felt myself die. When he was finished, he spoke to me softly and in a professional tone:

-This necklace is now fixed around your neck permanently. Not even your owner could remove it even if he wanted to. Only here could we remove it. It’s solar-powered, so it doesn’t need to be charged – “great,” I thought, “cutting-edge technology in the service of absolute cruelty”. It produces electric shocks in your body, very gradual: they can be a small annoying twinge, a shock that knocks you unconscious or, at full power, they can electrocute you. It is used by free men to control slaves, as well as to punish them. It used to be operated from a remote, but since slaves sometimes stole the remote and assaulted their owners, it is now controlled from a chip implanted in the master’s hand. So you just press the palm of his hand to activate the collar, like Spiderman when he produces his webs, hahaha -he laughed at his own joke-.

However, it also has a separate remote control, in case your master ever wants to give control over your collar to someone else. It can even be programmed from an application on the cell phone. It also has a built-in GPS, to quickly locate any escaped slave, and it can be activated from quite a distance, so if a slave runs away you can disable or even kill him almost immediately -it was clear that he was really proud of the technological marvel that was that gadget. I felt nauseous at such indifference and cruelty. Even if he had been referring to an animal, that explanation would have been insensitive. With human beings it was simply monstrous. When he finished his detailed explanation, putting a hand on my shoulder, he asked me: -Did you understand?

-Yes -I said in a half-voice and in my absolute dejection. Then the respectable gentleman did something I would not have suspected. With his open hand he gave me a tremendous slap.

-Yes… WHAT? -he asked in a voice of thunder. I looked at him bewildered and again he slapped me violently. At last I understood what I expected.

-Yes… Sir -I said.

-That’s better, you’d better get used to your new situation, son.

He left the room. “Bloody sadist,” I thought. It was clear that I was only going to encounter violence and contempt from that moment on. The two policemen who had taken me there returned and untied me. They led me down a corridor, at the end of which I finally saw Joe…

To be continued…

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