My inheritance got me a nice house in a nice area. It also got me a real asshole next door, loud, pushy, crude, cruel sense of humor, a bigot. A childhood experience made me a bit funny about leather, the smell of it, all that. I bought an expensive leather hood on the Internet, cost about $300, and was trying it on for the first time, had it locked in place, and was learning about myself, privately, gradually. There was a small zipper neatly installed, across my mouth, and two tiny metal-ringed holes right over my nostrils. Those were the only openings. Anyway, this Richie character from next door walked in, not even knocking, with some complaint about an overhanging tree limb. In my panic to unlock myself, I knocked the keys onto the floor, and asshole got to them first! "Wow, who would have guessed! The kid's a real kink! Well, shit-for-brains it just so happens I've seen a lot of this stuff on the Internet, and guys like you just wanna be kept like that, and made into a servant, who has to obey, if he ever wants to see the light of day again! So let's start by closing that zipper! Now if you touch it, or try to open it, I'm gonna hurt you, so listen up, junior! From now on I am your Master and you are my slave! Now get over here and give me a real nice hand-job! Or I'll beat the shit out of you!" Helplessly I groped my way across the room, with just enough air to remain conscious, certainly none left for speech! Clumsily I let myself be "instructed" how to masturbate him to his complete and lengthy satisfaction, although the whole idea made me sick! Then he jerked open the zipper, and his cock was suddenly in my mouth, and the threats got even more lurid. I had never felt so utterly helpless before! Somehow I managed not to throw up, when he hit the back of my throat with an endless flood of come. He laughed with cruel delight, and said this was the start of a real good friendship, as long as I did what I was told. If I didn't I wouldn't get any food, and he'd pull my balls off! It was dark by them, and he led me stumbling, to his place, and shoved me into the tiny hall closet, about three feet square, and locked the door. Don't you go nowhere! he sn****red, and I heard the TV go on in the family room. Some damn football game, followed by wrestling or something. I slumped down, knees drawn up, just enough room for that, and waited, still in a state of shock. I risked opening the zipper, as I was sure I could get it closed again before he unlocked the door. Finally he came back and I hastily zipped up before the door opened. He pulled out of the closet, on cramped limbs, and yanked off my sweat pants, leaving me naked from the waist down. "Not bad!" was all he said, and his chubby fingers closed around my balls and tanked painfully on them. Squeezed them wickedly, twisted and mauled them, laughing nastily all the time, as muffled "Mmmmmmmfffff's" were forced out of me under the heavy stifling leather. He assured me he wasn't no queer, but I had a nice body, and it really turned him on, having absolute power, total control over me. "Think you'll just stay here full-time, and I'll rent out your house, make about a grand a month that way." he sn****red. "Cash!" His fingers had begun to caress now, instead of hurt, and that soon became even more unbearable, until I had to stop him, and all hell broke loose. A roundhouse slap on the head, brought stars, even through the heavy leather, and I knew there would be worse if I resisted him again, so I just stood there and submitted to my fate. I quickly became fully aroused, to my shame and humiliation. and his great amusement. "Horny little shit!" he jeered. "You just love all this doncha?" To my disgust, I realized suddenly it was true! I was beginning to like my helpless state, and wonder if he'd up the ante, maybe make it worse! I think I would have confessed that, if I'd been able to speak! By now I was almost dancing with frustration and excitement, my breath whistling through the small holes. "Y'know, I got a client, good client, good friend,who'd just love to have the use of you, just like this! Shit, he's at least sixty, but rich as all get-out, and him and me, we got a deal going right now.... I bet that would clinch it! He told me once when we were drinking how he'd like to have a young guy for a slave! Yup, he's queer as a three dollar bill, but who cares, if he signs the deal! You get back in that closet, while I go call him!" So it was that I became the 'property' of a rich Arab émigré, even more heartless than Richie, and was introduced to the blue Afghan full-coverage Burqa, which mercilessly hid whatever device tormented me underneath. And of course, nobody wanted to interfere with his "Customs" since he was so rich. That was a year ago, and I follow him around like a good little Arab wife, utterly hidden and completely anonymous. Just furniture. He scares me much more than Richie, because he would probably kill me, or seriously hurt me, if I didn't obey him unquestioningly. His other wives are every bit as bad as he is, and torture me mercilessly, threatening to tell him if I make any fuss or show any resistance. My indoor Burqa is made of heavy red latex, and they like to put a heavy strap round my waist, trapping my arms above it. My only contact with reality is an area of tiny holes right above my nose and mouth. Other than that I live in a dark red world, blind, and forbidden to speak. I share his bed, just like this, and have given up any hope of ever being free. Deep down at some strange and primitive level, I experience utter fulfillment, and look forward to the next 'adventure' in sex, and slavery.