At one point in the night, I was dreaming of being beaten with whips and being pummeled. Then I woke, and realized that George was thrashing in his sleep next to me.
I gripped him tightly until he stopped. I heard him whisper, "Please, more, please, Sir." Then he was still.
I thought for a moment that he had passed out, but he moved to adjust his position. I closed my eyes and was out again.
I dreamed I was on my knees and working my way down an endless line of men, sucking them off and being filled with cum. I sighed and looked for the next cock.
I awoke to water splashing on my body. It was cold and was being dripped along my entire naked body. I wanted to cover myself back up and go back to sleep. This had to be a bad dream.
"Wake up, boy," I heard, and it all came back. I shook my head and quickly moved into the correct standing position, even though my eyes were having a difficult time opening.
"Yes, Sir," I said, as I stood shivering.
"Follow me, boy," he said, and started walking away. I looked to see if George was still around, but I didn't see him. I wiped at my eyes as I followed him, and then remembered to keep my hands down to my side.
My teeth were chattering as we walked through the house. As we went through the kitchen, Ms. H. said good morning to Sir. He acknowledged her as he led me outside. George was out there as well.
"Show him what he needs to do, boy." I didn't turn; I knew that Sir was standing on the porch watching us.
"You have to pee," I said, as I moved next to George. He was shivering as much as I was.
"I can't go out here with people watching!" He raised his eyebrows as if pointing to the windows behind us.
"Yeah, believe me I know, but you can get used to it." I said. "Let me start and then you will probably be able to go." I couldn't believe that the novice that I was, was giving him lessons.
I stood there and soon began to pee, which only caused me to shiver more. After a moment, George started pissing as well. I almost laughed, as we must look like 2 little kids peeing on the lawn in the backyard. Then I sobered: we weren't kids, we were men. But no, I was a boy. I was Sir's boy.
When we were done, George whispered, "I have to take a dump." He blushed, "Where do I do that?"
I laughed and pointed to a hole in the ground. He looked at me like I was some kind of insane homeless person. "You're kidding, right?"
"No," I said, and proceeded to move over the hole and squat. I was more embarrassed now with him watching than I was with Sir. I finished and turned and walked back. "Your turn," I said, trying to keep more heat from filling my face.
"I can't," he whispered. I shrugged my shoulders and walked back to the porch - and Sir. I was shivering again.
"Good, boy," Sir said, and I knew he meant me. He led us back into the kitchen. I saw that there were two little chairs at my little table. There was a bowl of dry cereal in front of each chair, and a spoon.
Sir said, "Show George how you put cream on your cereal, boy." My head started to rise up and look at him to be sure I understood what he meant. My heart sunk and shame once again washed over me.
I knew that Ms. H. was in the kitchen, and George, and all. But I had no choice. I took my dick and began to play with it. It was not easy to get it hard. Tears rolled down my face as I manipulated my dick.
I had to think about the things from last night, and with George, to get me going. But soon I was in the rhythm of things and beginning to feel good sensations. I know that it is like this, when my dick takes over and wants pleasure, that I am no longer in control. I go where it leads.
I don't know how long it took; I lost track of time, but soon I was shooting spooge all over the top of my cereal. After I came, where I was and who was there came rushing back at me and I felt the warmth flow up my face to the tops of my ears. I sat without being told I realized, when I was down.
"Boy, that was a nice bit of masturbation on the spur of the moment, but I meant for you to go to the fridge and get the cream out of there." I thought I heard a hint of humor in his voice. He let that sink in, and I was more ashamed and embarrassed than ever. "And you will be punished for cumming without permission, boy."
"Yes, Sir," I said, just barely audible.
He let that sink in as well and added, "I think I was too lenient on you last night, letting you and George have your fun in the bed on the floor."
"Yes, Sir," I said, again barely audible, as Ms. H. poured cream over mine and George's cereal.
"After breakfast, George and I are going to have a little talk. You will go downstairs, shower, shave, and clean up. You will wait there in your kneeling position until I come for you."
"Yes, Sir," I said, with just a bit more volume than I had before.
I sat there and ate my cum flavored cereal and didn't look up to George while I did. Mrs. H worked in the kitchen around us. I wondered what George thought about that.
"Will he really punish you?" George whispered. I nodded, not trusting my voice.
"How will he punish you?" he then asked.
I shrugged my shoulders and whispered, "I don't know."
I saw Mrs. H leave the kitchen and George asked, "I am so embarrassed being naked in front of her. Who is she? And how could you just jerk off like that in front of us?"
Again the humiliation washed over me. I didn't want to show this emotion, but I felt a tear roll down and I wiped it away quickly.
I mumbled, "I don't know who she is, but I have to do whatever he tells me to do whenever he says," as if that answered everything.
I heard him chewing a couple more bites. "Last night I wanted the same life, but this morning I don't know."
"Little head, big head," I murmured.
"What?"
I took a deep breath and tried to swallow past the lump of emotion in my throat. "Last night your little head was doing the thinking and giving directions. This morning your big head is doing the thinking and wanting to give directions." I paused, sighed, and said, "They war constantly. I realized that following the little guy gets me a great deal of pleasure, but it sure does get me into trouble, too."
He chewed another bit and said, "I like the analogy and I understand."
Then there was worry in his voice, "What should I tell him when I talk to him today?"
"That is not for me to say," I said, and then added, "You have to make up your own mind and make your own commitment." I thought again and said, "I don't know what time frame you have in mind or what he has in mind, but I am his for at least a year."
"Wow," he said, and took another spoonful. I couldn't remember if we had discussed this before or not.
I ate my bowl, but without appetite. I was not looking forward to being punished, and it made my stomach turn as I imagined the possibilities. When I was finished, I took both bowls to the kitchen sink and rinsed them.
I told George to stay there until he was called for, and headed out to find the stairway downstairs.
Once I was downstairs and the lights were on, all the images of last night came welling up and overwhelmed me. I couldn't believe all the things I had done. I couldn't even count the number of times I had been fucked.
My hole clenched tight as I remembered Sir's forceful entry. As I did that, I noticed how my butt and my thighs ached.
I turned on the shower, adjusted the temperature, and got in. The hot water was wonderful! I wanted to stay there forever. But then I realized that I was probably being watched, so I quickly washed up, grabbed a razor, and began scraping my chest.
I worked gingerly around my nipple rings that also seemed to have a mind of their own. Sometimes, when touched, they were like a switch to my dick, and caused sensations to course through it. Other times I would touch them, and the pain would sear through my brain, making me gasp.
When I got down to my crotch, I worked very gingerly. I was sure I was going to cut my balls open or slice my dick, but I did neither. I had to start twice, though, because the first time my hand was shaking so badly. I had no idea how to shave my crack without surely cutting something, and I thought I remembered him telling me that I didn't have to do that part, when he did it the first time.
When I looked in the mirror, I was shocked. It still didn't look like me in the mirror. I didn't know that person with no pubic hair, nipple rings, short hair and, I turned to try and see it, a tattoo on my ass.
I patted my stomach and remembered that I was going to have a rigorous session in the gym to get my body into shape. It would be the first time that I had really spent any time working on my body. And if I ended in half the shape the guy was that was my instructor, I would be amazed.
I cleaned up everything, put the towels in the hamper after wiping down the sinks and floors, and went to kneel and wait for Sir.
At first I was able to get into the position and hold it, but the longer I stayed there the worse it became. I started to fidget, trying to find a more comfortable position. I had to bow my back up and out a couple of times to relieve the tension there.
I have no idea how long I stayed there, but finally I heard the door open and footsteps down the stairs.
"What was all that moving around for, boy? Did I tell you that you could wiggle around while you were in position, boy?" He sounded gruff.
"No, Sir," I said humbly. I had forgotten that he had cameras everywhere.
"Let's see how long you can stay there now without moving then, boy." I heard the scrape of a chair as he moved it to sit down.
"Yes, Sir," I said, wondering myself how long I could remain still.
"George has decided to give this life a trial run. I will be taking him over to his new master when I am done with your punishment, boy. I want him to see what happens when a boy breaks a rule."
I didn't think that needed a reply. Did that mean that George was there beside him watching me? I tried to stay as still as possible with my ass sticking in the air.
I went off to a hiking trail in my mind, looking at the wilderness, the open air and the babbling stream nearby. I got where I could smell the pine trees and the tinge of granite dust, my illusion was so complete.
I was brought out of this quickly by a resounding slap on my ass. It really stung and, as I was drawing breath in for a gasp, I remembered, and closed my mouth. I bit the inside of my mouth to keep from crying out.
"Not even five minutes, boy. That just won't do. I expect a boy to be able to stay in that position for hours. Do you understand, boy?"
What else could I say? "Yes, Sir," I said, trying to sound confident I could do that. But my knees hur, as did my back.
"Stand up, boy." I did, and he told me to move over to the padded saw horse that he pointed out.
I started to lean over the saw horse when he shouted, "Did I tell you to bend over that thing, boy?"
I stood straight and said, "No, Sir." There was a bit of tremor in my voice. I was really fucking up, and it really hurt that I couldn't do what I was told.
"Turn around here, boy," he again shouted.
I obeyed and turned towards him, legs spread, eyes down, and hand laced behind my head.
Without saying a word, I saw him reach out and grab my balls. He began to slowly squeeze them, slowly increasing the pressure. I knew I wasn't supposed to cry out, and that he was going to continue on to see how long I would last.
As the pressure increased, a pain shot from my groin to my stomach, and I thought I would double up, but he continued to squeeze. I rose up on my toes to try and get out of his reach, not that I knew it would do any good.
Finally, when I thought he was literally going to bust them, I couldn't take it anymore and gasped. He squeezed a bit more and then released them. I thought I was going to vomit as the pain circled through my stomach and my balls ached.
I then saw his hands come back into view. He worked roughly and quickly, and installed the plastic cage by placing a ring behind my balls and then sliding the cage up and securing it to the back ring. He then took a plastic zip tie and locked the two pieces together.
"That will help you learn about me controlling when you cum, boy." He squeezed my balls once again, and I rose up again. But this time he didn't squeeze as hard.
"Now, boy, lean over the horse," he commanded, and I was quick to move along with my usual response.
As I leaned over the horse, I felt him take each ankle and put a strap around it and belt it closed. Then he pulled my arms down the other side and did the same with each wrist. I was now stretched out over the horse, locked to its four legs.
He then reached in and positioned my dick and balls so that they were between me and the top bar of the horse. He was working on my balls and I could not see what he was doing. I felt some sort of leather or something moving over my sack. He was pushing my balls to the end of the sack and then tightening whatever it was. When he was finished, my balls were distended and tight in the end of my sack, and at least an inch or so of my scrotum closest to my body was incased.
He came around and put a leather piece over my head, covering my eyes. He laced it up tightly in the back. I couldn't see anything. It was completely black.
I heard movement around behind me. Then I heard a swooshing sound, as if something was being whirled around in the air, over and over.
Without any warning I felt a painful whack on my ass. I gasped, and tried not tocdry out. My butt clinched tightly, expecting the next one.
"I think we will begin with 15, boy. After each, you will count it, thank me, and ask for another. Do you understand, boy?"
"Yes, Sir." I tried not to sound as scared as I felt. He had let me read those emails about the boys who had been beaten until their backs bled and they had permanent scars. Scars they called the marks of their master.
I heard the sound through the air and then felt a blast harder than the last one. I gasped out, "One, Sir, thank you, Sir. May I have another Sir?"
"What was that noise before you started talking? Where you crying out, boy?" He had walked over so that he bent down yelling in my ear.
"No, Sir." I said, trying to sound assured.
"I think we need to start over, boy." He waited, and then I knew I was supposed to answer.
"Yes, Sir," I said.
"Okay, let's try this again," he said, and I tensed up as I heard the swoosh again. It came down harder than before, if that was possible.
I gritted my teeth, willing myself not to cry out. "One, Sir, thank you, Sir. May I have another, Sir?"
"That's better, boy."
I heard the swoosh and tightened up my ass again, but nothing happened. I heard it swishing back and forth and didn't know when it would hit. But I kept my cheeks clenched tight.
I had to relax them for a second and when I did that's when he struck again. I tightened up and bit my lip. I hurried to respond, "Two, Sir, thank you, Sir. May I have another, Sir?"
Before I even finished I felt the strap again on a different spot. My tense butt felt not only the pressure of the stroke but the heat as well.
"Three, Sir, thank you, Sir. May I have another, Sir," I said through partially clenched teeth.
My ass was still clinched tight, dreading the next assault.
He drew it out again and I couldn't tell when it would come again. This one smashed the upper part of my legs, at my crack, and caught a bit of my balls. I gasped as that jolt hit my stomach. "Four, Sir, thank you, Sir. May I have another?" I gasped out around the pain.
"No, boy, I heard some pain in your voice that time. I think we need to start over, don't you boy?"
"Yes, Sir," I said. What else could I say?
He really gave it to my then across the taut meat of my ass. I clenched my teeth together and swallowed quickly, and then said in an even tone, "One, Sir, thank you, Sir, may I have another?"
"That's better, boy." He came over and ran his hand over my ass. "Getting nice, red, and so warm to the touch."
His hand felt like fire on my skin.
I tightened up again and he said, "You know, boy, this would go much easier if you didn't tense up and just ride the pain. Let it take you to pleasurable places. Remember, your pain is giving me pleasure."
"Yes, Sir," I said, relaxing my butt.
I felt the next one, but he was right (of course) and it wasn't as bad if I just rode with it. "Two, Sir, thank you, Sir. May I have another, Sir?" I said evenly and with more confidence.
Of course, confidence was the last thing I should have tried to put into my voice because the next one fell across the point where it could contact my balls. I swallowed my scream, evened my voice without emotion and said, "Three, Sir, thank you, Sir. May I have another, Sir?"
He continued on then changing, up the pace and the placement, so I didn't know when or where it would hit next. And I did find that pleasure was beginning to flow through me.
I had two to go, when he stopped for a moment. He came back and spread something on my balls and my hole. I thought he was putting some sort of salve on it, as I smelled wintergreen.
Just as the next whack of the belt hit, my balls and hole caught on fire. There was something on there making it burn! It was going to eat the skin off of my balls. I fought emotions and worry and doubt and struggled to talk coherently. "Four.. Fourteen, Sir, thank you, Sir," the sir coming out in a hiss. "Can I have one more, please?"
"Can you, boy?" he said, and I realized I had fucked up. Was he going to start all over again? Oh, fuck! My balls were on fire!
"Sir...May...I... Have... Another...One... Sir." I said through gritted teeth, trying desperately to hold it together.
"I don't know, do you think we should start over, boy? Because I thought I heard some emotion in your voice that time. Should we, boy?"
"No, Sir," came out before I could think, but I quickly followed up with, "Yes, Sir, whatever you want, Sir."
"Hmmm, I'll think about that, boy." He ran his hand over my ass again. "How do your balls feel, boy?"
I thought for a moment. What was the correct answer here? "Fine, Sir."
He used something to tap them, increasing the pain. "Well, first off, boy, they are MY balls. I own them. Second, I would have thought that you might be feeling a bit uncomfortable after the application of that cream. I must not have applied it correctly. Should I put some more on, boy?"
"No!" I said too quickly, and followed by a more restrained, "Whatever you think, Sir."
He chuckled a bit and said, "Good answer, boy." In a moment, I felt him again playing with my balls, and this time with my dick.
He waited a moment and, just as I felt the fire build again, I felt the whack on my ass that also hit my balls. I couldn't take it, I screamed and cried and begged, "Sir, Fifteen, Sir, please, Sir, stop. Please, Sir, Please!!!!" and then I added with tears running down my face, "Please, Sir, may I have another one?"
"Well, boy, which is it, shall I stop or do you want another one?" I couldn't think; my dick and balls were on fire. The flesh was being eaten off by some burning chemical. Then it flashed through my head - it was the bengay, like he had used on me the other day! I just had to wait it out. And my cock and balls would be okay. Not that it helped the pain any. They still felt like the ywould fall off.
"Sir, yes, Sir, may I have another one, Sir." Tears were streaming down my face. I couldn't think straight and I didn't now if I could handle any more.
"Well, boy, if you are begging me to continue, I guess I have no choice." I closed my eyes, even though I couldn't see anything with the blindfold on. I gritted my teeth and held on, pulling on my wrist restraints.
Nothing happened. I waited and waited. I thought maybe he wasn't going to do it again. But I heard the swoosh and I swear he put more into it than any other.
I took breaths through my clenched teeth, and struggled to speak without the pain in my voice. "16, Sir, thank you, Sir." I took a breath and said, "Please, Sir, may I have another." Then I was blubbering.
"It would be a darn shame to have to start all over again, boy." I was shaking my head, afraid to say anything. "Do you want more, boy?" He paused, and then added, "Or do you want me to stop, boy?"
The heat had reached a peak and my mind was blown. I didn't have a clue what to say. I shook my head trying to get my thoughts together and understand how to answer.
"Is that no, don't stop, boy. Or is it no, you don't want any more?" He paused, and then added, "I would think my boy could take whatever I dished out, that he would want to take whatever I wanted to give him in order to show me how much he wanted to give me pleasure."
I still had no clue what I should say, so he continued. "How's the burn, boy? Just about reaching its peak? Shall I slather some more on everything, boy?"
"No, please, Sir!" I gasped and then said, "Please, Sir, may I have more with the belt, Sir. Please!" I was begging, figuring that this was the lesser of the two evils.
"But boy, it isn't up to you, is it? If I want to coat your balls, dick, hole, and anything else with this, I can; right, boy?"
"Yes, Sir," I managed, trying to keep the emotion and pain out of my voice.
"And if I wanted to boy, I could beat you until you passed out and then still beat you couldn't I, boy?"
"Yes, Sir," and the prospect seemed too possible.
"Who owns your ass, boy?"
"You do, Sir," I said, knowing where this litany was going to go.
"Who owns your balls, boy?"
"You do, Sir."
"Who owns your dick, boy?"
"You do, Sir."
"Who owns YOU, boy?"
"You do, Sir!"
"Are you going to fuck up and not mind again, boy?"
"No, Sir. I will never disobey you again, Sir."
He laughed. "Every boy says that, but it is in the nature of a boy to fuck up. It will happen boy and you will be punished."
I shivered. It couldn't be true.
"Boy, I will never punish you out of anger, and I will never punish you more than I," and he stressed the `I,' "know you can handle."
I could only nod my head. I didn't know what he wanted from me.
He asked again, "Do you want more, boy?"
"Yes, Sir," I said, not meaning it at all, but knowing that was the correct answer.
"Good boy," he said, and patted me on the back and then rubbed my ass. "Good answer."
He continued to stroke my butt, his hand felt like it was burning hot. Was he going to give me more?
"I will tell you that you have given me much pleasure, boy. If I had the time, I would fuck you right here." He ran his hand along my crack. I trembled and knew that I wanted that and that scared me, too.
As the pain was subsiding in my crotch and hole, I felt him apply cream to my ass, and tightened up. Was he putting more bengay on me?
As if reading my mind, he said, "No, boy, it is not bengay. It is cream to help your ass heal a bit faster." He chuckled a bit and continued, "It will heal faster so I can beat it again, and," he continued on as I involuntarily tightened my ass a bit, "keep it nice and smooth, making it even more fuckable."
The cream did have a cooling affect on my ass. And he applied it so gently.
When he was done, he unbuckled first my arms and then my legs. I nearly fell over when I tried to stand. He removed the blindfold and said, "Walk around a little, boy." I kept my head down as I walked. I saw George's naked feet and wondered if he was wearing anything. Then I wondered what he thought about what had happened. Was he having second thoughts? I shook my arms and legs a bit to get the circulation going again. My butt was stiff.
I walked around a bit more and then Sir said, "Over here, boy." I moved towards his voice and saw him pull out a drawer down at floor level. The drawer kept rolling out and out. Why would someone have a drawer so big, so low down on the floor.
"Lay down here, boy," he indicated the drawer with his foot. "I suggest you lay on your stomach, because it would probably hurt too much to lay on your butt."
What was going on? What was he going to do now? I knelt down on the drawer and lay down upon it. I turned my head sideways to look at his feet. My heart was racing as I had no idea what was going to happen. It was the unknown that he kept hitting me with.
He crouched down beside me and said, "I have to leave for a while and, so you won't get in trouble, I am going to leave you in here. You will be fine here and nothing can hurt you, boy. I think we caught all the rats the last time we had a boy in here." He laughed. Was he joking? Was he playing with my head?
I felt the drawer roll back into the wall. I thought that this was surely another of his cruel jokes. He was going to pull me out and say, `just kidding!' But he didn't; he closed it all the way and, as he did, the drawer sealed with the sound of a rubber seal. It was completely dark. I tried to turn over and found that the top of the drawer was just inches away from my back.
I started breathing rapidly and panicking. I was locked in here! I tried banging the floor of the drawer, but no sound came out. It must be padded. I swear I could hear the scrambling of rats.
I started to scream. I was scared shitless. "Help me, Please! Sir, please, don't leave me in here! Please Sir, I'll be good. Please!!!!!" I was crying and bawling and thought I would go crazy.
The drawer cracked open a bit and he said, "Can you hear me, boy?"
"Yes, Sir," I sobbed. "Please let me out, Sir. I'll be a good boy, please!"
He was trying to talk and I just kept begging.
"Shut up, boy! And listen to me!" he roared, getting through my blubbering.
I stopped saying anything, but sobs continued and my nose was running.
"This is not a punishment, boy. You have done nothing wrong to be put here. This is just a safe place for you. Think of it like a bed. There is plenty of air, boy. And there are no rats, boy, I promise. Do you understand, boy?"
He paused, and I nodded my head, and then tried to get out a "Yes, Sir," but I wasn't convinced.
"I think you would find the alternative much worse, boy. But we can try it the next time, if you want. But this time you are staying in there." He reached his hand in with a tissue and told me to blow my nose. I did. I wanted to reach up and grab his hand and beg him again, but I couldn't bring my arm up; there wasn't enough room.
"Lift your head, boy," he instructed and I did. He put a small black leather cushion under my head and then pushed my head down.
"Now be a good boy and stay in there. When I return I will let you out, boy."
"How," came out before I clamped my mouth shut.
"How long?" he asked, and then said, "I could tell you 10 minutes, or I could tell you 10 hours, but neither will mean anything to you in there. You will have no sense of time. You can try counting the seconds, but it won't work, boy." He patted my head.
"I suggest you take some deep breaths, calm yourself, and just relax and rest while you are in there, boy." He patted my head again and said, "Be good, boy," then he chuckled, because he realized I had no choice.
He rolled the drawer shut and the light went out, and I tried to calm myself. I took some deep breaths and tried to calm myself. I moved around adjusting myself to a more comfortable position. The plastic cage around my cock took some adjusting before I could find a position that freed it up a bit. I couldn't quite turn on my side, but it was the best position to be in.
In moments, I lost all sense of time. I couldn't hear anything, I couldn't see anything, and all I could feel was myself. The drawer seemed to be lined with deeply padded leather. The temperature was neutral, not too hot or too cold.
I went off to my hike in the mountains, and got lost in the illusions of my mind. My last real thought was `could I handle a year of things like this, or would I come out a sniveling idiot?
Thanks to all who write with suggestions, comments, ideas and photos. It definitely keeps me motivated to continue. They are always welcome. harryrod@yahoo.com
Have fun
harry