Getting to Know Your Classmates – The Academy of Masters and Slaves – CHAPTER 5

Knowing Your Classmates – The Academy of Masters and Slaves – CHAPTER 5

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The time has come to go out into the street, the time to go to The Academy of Masters and Slaves. Alex attaches a leash to Marc's collar, just below his chin. They exit through the door and find themselves in a long corridor. While it's true that they are inside, they are in the street; on this planet, you cannot go outside, and all buildings and structures are connected by long passageways.

The boys share the street with the rest of their classmates, so they will study and live together. Three doors in front of them and three behind them, including their own, six in total. Marc, who is very quick with numbers, does the math: twelve classmates. He tries to tell Alex, but the gag in his mouth prevents him; in fact, because of the attempt, a thin stream of clear drool drips from his mouth and splashes the shiny straitjacket that immobilizes his arms.

Alex has done the math too: six masters, six classmates, six possible friends. And six slaves, six objects. Can he use the others? He wouldn't mind giving Marc up in exchange; after all, they are all there to try new things.

The door in front of him opens, and a handsome boy appears on the other side. They smile at each other immediately, and the elegant boy extends his hand.

- Hi, I'm Eric, he says as they shake hands. Eric is tall, dark-haired, and has very well-defined cheekbones and jawline. Just like Alex, he wears a black latex suit that covers almost his entire body. His arms are bare; the suit has straps, and his feet are bare, resting on the floor. He is a slim boy, not very muscular; it is his height and elegance in movement that give him the authority that all masters exude.

- Hi, I'm Alex, he replies, looking him up and down. Alex also observes his slave, who, dragged by a leash around his neck, appears behind Eric. The boy, shorter than his master, wears latex stockings that cover his legs. His torso is bare, and his wrists are handcuffed behind his back. He is even thinner than his master; his ribs stand out through his flesh, easily countable. His collarbone, with his arms forced backward, is also completely defined.

Alex estimates that the boy must weigh around fifty kilos and imagines how easily Eric must manage that bag of bones. His attire is rather simple; an ellipse of leather tied at the nape covers the lower half of his face. Inside, Alex imagines a ball gag or a dildo. The slave has his nipples trapped in metal clamps connected by a thin metal chain. But what truly impresses is a bulky diaper that covers the boy’s genitals.

- Wow, it looks like your slave's diaper is wet, says Alex.

- No way, dude, says Eric. He begged me to let him pee before putting it on; he was embarrassed to be seen with a wet diaper, he explains. So I let him pee, and just now, before leaving, I just peed in it myself, he adds, laughing.

- I think I'm going to like you, says Alex, joining in on the laughter with his new friend.

- By the way, he's not my slave; he hasn’t earned that title yet. For now, I just call him my toy. I hope the others will also refer to him in that term, Eric states.

- I think it's great, replies Alex, pulling on the leash in his hand to get Marc moving.

- We arrived yesterday morning, and I met another of our classmates; his name is Victor, he has two slaves under his charge, starts Eric explaining while he walks by Alex’s side. They are twins, adorable. Victor has them completely subdued, but I won’t say more; you’ll meet them soon; we agreed to meet up after we leave to go to the academy together. I suppose they must be waiting for us already…

Marc walks behind his master, dragged by the neck; he struggles a little to keep up with the pace with all the restrictions on his body. Moreover, the masters, distracted in conversation, gradually quicken their walking ritual.

Marc has enjoyed watching the other slave, Eric's toy; he does not know his name. He couldn't help but feel a tacit bond with him, an understanding born from their shared circumstances. Toy, what a humiliating title. I wish that had occurred to Alex, he thought.

The toy in question has also studied him; his eyes lingered on Marc's cock, watching with fascination the cage and catheter. Scanning the tube until reaching the bag, which, increasingly full of urine, hangs on his thigh. Their eyes met fleetingly a couple of times, but both quickly looked away in embarrassment.

The slave and toy walk behind their masters, attentively listening to their conversation, unable to participate. Alex and Eric talk about their lives, starting to get to know each other as new friends; it seems like they get along well.

They move through the passageway, gradually passing through common areas that Marc has not yet seen. Pools, in plural, with varying temperatures and sizes. A large dining hall, rest and recreation rooms with foosball, billiards, and many other things, saunas, several dungeons with different atmospheres and purposes. They even pass through a large garden covered by a great glass dome constructed in one piece, a kilometer in diameter. Inside, there is a river and a waterfall, and countless plants, flowers, and trees grow; a multitude of paths and bridges crisscross the entire garden. The profusion of smells and colors is overwhelming, a delight for their eyes and noses.

They cross the garden at a brisk pace along the central path and finally arrive at a spacious reception area. The floor is made of black marble, the walls and columns of white marble, a truly luminous space due to the polished material. At one side sits Victor, on a sofa with his feet resting on the back of a slave. He is animatedly chatting with another slave in a conversation that seems to amuse them both.

- Come on, hurry up! You're the last ones, the others are already out, Victor shouts as he stands up. At the same time, he orders the two slaves to stand up, retrieves a gag with a black silicone ball that was on the sofa, and places it on the boy he was talking to.

- You took so long that I had to get comfortable, he explains when Alex and Eric are already by his side. I’ve been waiting over twenty minutes, he reproaches Eric, who he had arranged to meet. I was so bored that I had to take the gag off one of my boys to chat with someone.

Marc observes the two slaves; their bodies are completely covered in latex. A shiny black suit, without any embellishments. Just like him, they also have their genitals protruding from a hole and their cocks in chastity. The slave that was on all fours wears a pink cage; the other one wears a metal one, the only difference between them. Marc remembers that the guys beneath that soft clothing are twins and supposes that the color difference in the cages is brief, to differentiate them.

They are not very tall; in fact, they are the shortest ones in the reception area, but their abs stand out majestically through the latex. Their arms, which end in non-connected wristbands, also display strong muscles. It’s a pity their faces are covered under the same latex as the suit, which extends to cover them completely. He can only enjoy their reddish lips, which, moist, envelop the black silicone ball that gags their mouths. But with those abs and those lips, he imagines that their faces must be beautiful.

- Hey, your slave is eyeing mine, and I still don’t even know your name, Victor says.

Marc immediately bows his head, and mortified, fixes his gaze on the ground.

- Is that true? Alex asks, turning toward him. With one hand, he lifts his face by the chin and forces him to look him in the eyes. - Seriously, Marc, control yourself a bit; if you look, don’t get caught, he says, and gives him a pat on the balls.

Not very hard, but enough to make him shudder; Marc bends over in surprise from the pain, the elbows of the straitjacket digging into his abdomen. The hook in his ass penetrates him completely. Humiliated and ashamed, he struggles to quickly regain his posture and decides to fix his gaze on the floor. He doesn’t want to embarrass his companion any further.

- Excuse Marc, my slave I mean. My name is Alex, he says, extending his hand to Victor.

- I’m Victor, and these two are Ivo and Lucas, he says as he shakes his hand, not specifying which is which. - I suppose Eric has already explained to you that they are twins…

- Yeah, he mentioned something, replies Alex with a smile.

- I’m not surprised; he was fascinated with the subject yesterday, even more than your slave.

- I won’t deny it, Eric says, smiling. - And I still am…

- Did he also tell you that he calls his "little toy"? Victor asks as he attaches a leash to the necks of each of his slaves.

- My toy, Eric replies. - No diminutives, and yes, I’ve already told him.

- True, he told me, but not his name…

- His name is Felipe, Eric says. - I thought I had told you… Felipe lifts his head and looks at Alex; their eyes meet in a silent greeting, a wordless introduction. Immobilized, that is all the welcome speech he can offer.

- Well, what? Shall we go? Victor urges. - The others must have already arrived, and I don't want them to start having fun without us.

- Let’s go, says Alex, pulling on Marc’s leash.

- Get going, says Eric.

- IRIS! Get us a bus to go to the academy; we’re already late, requests Victor.

- Good idea, Eric congratulates him.

The vehicle is already on the street when they pass through the door that separates their private area from the rest of the world. It is a metallic bus painted black, its surface shimmering with purple tones under the light rays filtered through the glass ceiling covering the streets. It floats in the air; it has no wheels. As they approach, a door silently opens on the side, and a ramp extends to the ground to help passengers overcome the thirty centimeters of elevation.

Marc notices that it is very similar to the buses that existed in the world where he and Alex grew up. A slatted wall turns the back part of the space into a large cage where slaves usually travel. On the right, comfortable leather seats are lined up, giving their occupants a view to the left. There, a long metal bar stretches across the ceiling, allowing masters to hang their slaves and watch them sway during the journey. What will their destination be? Marc wonders.

- What do we do with the boys? Eric, who has been the last to enter, asks.

- At the back; we’re in a hurry, Victor replies, who is gradually gaining some authority over the group. Alex thinks he needs to do something to regain some control, but he is not quite sure what.

The four submissives are led by their masters to the cage; they will travel standing up.

- IRIS! These boys have plenty of space, don’t you think? asks Alex. - I think half a meter is plenty.

Automatically, the slatted wall begins to move backward, reducing the space. Marc and the others press their backs against the rear of the vehicle as they watch the slats advance toward them. In a few seconds, the width that used to be four meters is significantly reduced. Satisfied, Alex, Eric, and Victor head toward the three seats that occupy the rest of the space and lean back onto them. Then the bus begins to move with a gentle acceleration and absolute silence.

Alex observes the landscape in silence, like his companions. He is somewhat nervous about the first day but will never admit it out loud.

- Hey guys, why are you so still? You should be getting to know each other a bit; you’re classmates; I’m sure you’ll end up being good friends… Alex says.

The four boys exchange quick glances within the cage, all gagged. The only thing they can do to get to know each other a bit is to touch each other. After that veiled consent from Alex, they do not hesitate.

Marc in his straitjacket, Felipe with his hands handcuffed behind his back, the twins are the only ones with their hands free, and they take the initiative. The journey lasts no more than five minutes, but during that time, Ivo and Lukas take turns examining, touching, and brushing against the others.

Marc enjoys it; his companions’ hands roam all over his body. Both twins feel a certain curiosity about the catheter protruding from his chastity cage and tug on it a bit, watching the discomfort in his eyes. They touch his thighs, chest, and neck; they hug him, hold his face, and look him in the eyes.

Marc feels incredibly frustrated; he cannot reciprocate any of those gestures. His attempt at arousal fights against the chastity cage. His arms struggle in vain to free themselves from their captivity. Trapped in his private prison, heart racing, and pressure in his chest, Marc experiences desire in its purest form.

He wishes he had hands to lift the latex mask covering the twins’ faces and see those faces he imagines must be so beautiful. Are they blond or dark? He would love to be able to talk to them and kiss their lips and necks. But unable, he can only enjoy the contact they provide and get to know them through it.

Finally, they arrive at their destination, a breathtakingly beautiful, indescribable building: The Academy. After leaving their transport, they cross a large square scattered with stocks, crosses, and racks distributed without much sense as they approach the building’s doors.

- First-year students? asks a slave/drone at the reception without much emotion.

The masters answer several questions and fill out a couple of forms. Marc, Felipe, Ivo, and Lucas remain impassive; none of those questions are directed at them. For within this enclosure, they are no longer owners of their rights.

The interior is spectacular, with passageways and a few ajar doors revealing the insides of some rooms. Marc is excited about the tour; it’s terrifying to think that this is his new school. He will spend the next two years of his life there at a minimum. From Monday to Friday, every morning without a break.

The exact path manifests before them with a red light projected on the floor, extending as they move forward. Marc is not the only one sensing they are walking in circles, having passed the same spot more than once. Eric and Victor complain about it, and in his mind, Marc agrees with them; the journey is taking forever, but finally, the light stops in front of a closed door.

Alex, and therefore he, who is tied at the neck, has moved ahead of the others and is the first to cross the door. The sight is stunning, but by no means as bad as all the possible scenarios Marc had imagined. Six black leather chairs arranged in a circle in the center of the room. Where one would expect to find a table, there is a hexagonal glass apparatus. Inside, divided into triangles, are already three slaves locked in. The whole set rotates on itself, functioning as a display where the slaves can be contained and observed.