Rendezvous at Mumbai - Chapter 2: Collared in the end

Chapter 0 : Road to slavery

April 17, 2014 : Tihcur Kahtap's House, Maharashtra.
Tihcur

I have a good memory. Not Eidetic, nor the fabled photographic memory. I simply have good memory. I still can recall the days when I created this account, fake Ruchit Pathak account on Facebook. It then had a different name, but its like the destiny wanted me to be Ruchit. Four years later, with  blow jobs to 10 different guys, Including two masters, I was at my wits end about my so called love life. I would have wanted a prince charming type master, mostly 'Tiger'. But, Tiger was married and a contact on fetlife ,  one 'dancing_death', who was close to being a perfect master;  seemed to have lost interest in me. The void inside me seemed to be expanding, threatening  to engulf me in its empty horizon of no hope.  The very idea that I would die un-collared was eating me.

The week long holidays to my college, and prospect of studying for PhD entrance was so terrifying that I was in a pseudo-self_proclaimed-depression of my own. All I did since last six days was watch House MD, or BBT, or some crappy program on TV, may be a few movies. Log onto various social networking site I have account on. And ,watch porn, read BDSM gay stories and masturbate.

It was by chance, and a good fortune that I pinged one 'Ankit Ruben' with a BDSM display picture.  A chat on fb, which got diverted to a video chat on yahoo and then finally when he was satisfied a chat on whatsapp. Usually I'm a very bitchy person. I have an IQ of 163, I am smart enough to know what the other guys intentions are, and Intelligent enough to not 'show' but just tell on messengers. It was different with Ankit, I obeyed a few of his commands on video. They were simple, being on knees, showing him the front view, the back view, being like dog with all the views he could have. The chat on other hand was complex. He wanted to know a lot of things. This is good. Especially when we know there are fake wanna-bees master and slave in the circuit. I gave him all the technically correct answer I knew. And he liked them.

The chat wanted me to meet him. He was from Bangalore and I stayed at a village 100Kms south of Mumbai.  The only way I felt that a session would happen was If I went to Bangalore. The thing with the BDSM scene in India is everyone wants to be a part, but no one is willing travel through it. I am one of those. Even with the high libido and extreme need to be humiliate, I am not willing to travel for it. The session was a distant dream. Then out of blue moon, came the opportunity,  Ankit was coming to Mumbai. The exact reason for his coming was unclear to me. I thought there would be some professional or personal reason other than session. He later informed me that he would be accompanied by friend. I had no issue with it.

Finally the day arrived.

Chapter 2: Collared in the end

May 1, 2014, Thursday.
Tihcur

'Lock the door dog. And put it in do not disturb mode.' Master ordered. I obliged.
As I walked back to him I realized I was standing. I knew I would be punished. But I was happy. I had a theory that Initial small, subtle punishment were needed for bonding. I was bravely going to face them.

'So you are standing again ?' Master asked me in a mock anger voice. Then his tone changed, it was loud and harsh. 'bloody fucker, you think you can stand in front of me ?' he asked.

getting on my knees I said, 'sorry sir.'

'sorry my foot.' He slapped me. Harder than he had slapped me before. 'You turn up here without bringing all the item I asked you to, and you have guts to stand in front of me ?'

'sorry sir.'  A slap to my left cheek.

'sorry sir.'  This time on my right.

'sorry sir.'  A series of blow, left , right and finally a twist to my ear.

'what all Items you missed ?' He asked. Apparently bored by slapping me.

'Spandex underwear sir... and masks sir.' I answered. (Actually I was tempted to refer myself as 'it', but then somehow it looked bit monotonous and degrading in non erotic way. So I reverted back to use of a human pronoun for myself)

'so you wish to have your face in the picture I take ?' He asked.

This is the typical dialogue that we BDSMites expect in India. Nobody is ready to get exposed, and yet that is what turns everyone on. I was turned on by the concept of pictures that would compromise my dignity on internet. At the  same time at back  of my mind I was aware of the ugly scenarios' that could follow it.  I did not look into his eyes, I was staring at his T-shirt.

'What ?' He asked. 'Dog ??'

'If you wish to, sir.'  I squeaked.

'Don't worry, I won't let your face picture on internet dog. You are my responsibility.' He assured. 'Now... Take your clothes off.' He ordered.

I stripped. Naked like dog, I knelt before him, anticipating his next command.

'Why are you not wearing underwear ?' He asked.

'Sir you asked me not to. I was suppose to keep them in my pocket sir.'

'Hmm.' He pondered.

'Show me all the underwear you have got.'  He asked. After I tried all the three underwear, Master decided that I look best in my blue Levis bikini brief.

'so you want to get collared ?' He asked. It was a happy sounding tone.

'yes.' I answered.

smack. He gave me a back handed slap.

'what did you say?' His tone very sharp.

I realized,  I missed the 'sir' at the end. I was suppose to address him properly. I got tensed,  anticipating another slap, I said, 'Sorry sir.'

'Why do you keep doing it ? you should I hate this kind of behavior. I should feel proud of you. And here you disgust me.'

Panic was replaced by a strange sadness in my heart. I knew I was wrong. I kissed his feet.

'bark like a dog'

'woof woof'

'keep barking, until I stop you'

'woof woof sir, woof woof sir, woof woof sir, woof woof sir'

'ok enough. Now come here.' He said. He grabbed the collar from the table.

I shifted my torso towards him.

'Here, kiss it.' He commanded, holding he vibrant blue collar. I kissed.

The world froze for me.