Chapter 10
I told you about that guy I know who spanks himself rather than putting up with having to search for Doms. I ran into him the other day and we had coffee to catch up, so now he knows the whole sad story about the way things ended up with you-know-who several months ago. Mitch (that's his name) said something that had me thinking. He told me that it feels very different spanking himself than when someone else does it. It's an entirely different experience. That night I took my wooden spoon—the same one you-know-who used to thrash me with, and used it on myself. Mitch is so right. Not the same at all.
The next night I gave Mitch a call.
"Hey, I've got an idea."
"What's your idea, kid. You're not thinking of going back to . "
"Absolutely not! No. I wanted to tell you that I spanked myself with my wooden spoon last night and you're so right, Mitch. Not the same at all." "So what'd your idea?"
"Why don't we spank each other? No sex. Just the spanking."
"Hmm...let me think about it. The thing is that I don't think I could do it to someone else."
"Well, it's just an idea. So what have you been up to?"
"I've decided to go to a new hot club that just opened down by the docks. All gay. A dungeon-type atmosphere. And if you strip naked except footgear before entering---they have lockers before the main entrance where you pay—you get in free. Good thing too, cause it's $30 to get in." "Shit. I'm there. What's it called? Where is it?"
"It's called `Hank's Inferno'. I'll send the address. They open at 9 pm Fridays."
"Hank? Is that the Hank who's friends with Eddie and a couple other guys?"
"The very one. He came into some money and got together with a couple of guys and they opened the place just two weeks ago. Apparently some other dude had just about gotten it set up when he was diagnosed with cancer and decided to unload it on the cheap. Hank's partners snatched it up." "Goddam! That must mean my ex will be hanging around there. That will suck."
"So wear a hood. He won't know it's you. Just don't take it off when you're there. C'mon. Come with me Friday night. We can have each other's back. I even have a hood I'll give you. Never used it so it's clean." "Okay, Mitch. I'll come. Meet you there? We should have both our cars, just in case. . ."
Mitch chuckles. "Sure thing. We can text each other when we arrive and go in together. I'm not stripping, though."
"Oh, I definitely am, Mitch. I haven't been naked in front of other guys except in the gym. Maybe I'll chicken out, but I don't think I will. I'm getting hard just thinking about it."
"Good for you. See you Friday, let's say about 9:30? Give them a chance to get started."
"Deal."
And so that's what happened. And I didn't chicken out. Mitch waited for me to strip, which didn't take long because all I wore was a t-shirt and shorts and my leather sandals. They have these locks on the lockers where you set your own combination. Damn, they thought of everything. No need to carry around a key. Could be completely naked. Oh, except for the hood Mitch gave me. Perfect fit. Eye holes and one for the mouth. And after all this time, there were no marks on me at all. I'd been getting spanked by a couple of Doms I know, but nothing other than that. After all, I wasn't going to live like a monk just because of one failed romance! No way.
The doorman was hot and I knew he was getting off watching me strip. As soon as I set the combination, I walked towards him deliberately lowering me eyes. He put out his hand and stopped me for a minute, then encircled one of my nipples and I inhaled quickly. "My name's Kurt. I'm off at midnight. If you're around, I'm taking you home, boy." "Yes, Sir," I said and looked up into his hypnotic eyes and began to wish it was midnight. "You just call me Sir, not my name," he said. "Yes, Sir." "Now get in there and become the slut you need to be." He reached down and slapped my balls and when I bent over a little, he put his hand on my back and gently pushed me into the Club. By then Mitch had his money out and quickly followed me inside. What an awesome place! A true cavernous dungeon, even had some water leaking in a corner where there was an open shower head which I guess might prove helpful from time to time. There weren't too many people around yet, and as far as I could see, I was the only one completely naked. I figure it might possibly turn some guys off because they'd think I was desperate. But what's so wrong with that for a lowly sub? A hooded one at that . . I liked to think of it this way. I imagine that there was a Master in my life who insisted I parade myself around naked, ready to surrender to any guy who took an interest for something. "Surrender, Dorothy," I said to myself with a giggle as I walked around slowly soaking in the decadent atmosphere and noticing that some of the leather-wearing Doms were 20, 30, maybe even 40 years older than me.
This was a new form of humiliation. A naked twink in the midst of men old enough to be its grandfather, on display for all and apparently available to be touched because I was being continually handled until I'd walk away from the man molesting me. I'm generally not into Daddies or men that much older, but hey, this is the start of a new stage of my life. Be open to new experiences. Eventually one man, bald but with a black goatee, heavy but not obese, managed to back me into a corner and put his hand around my neck with one hand while reaching down for my balls with the other. I just kept my eyes lowered, figuring that it's better so I don't evaluate anyone older by the way he looks; after all a slave doesn't have much choice, does it? So anyway, this guy squeezed my balls and my neck at the same time and then stopped. "Okay?" he asked. I took a deep breath and nodded. The pressure began again, neck and balls and just as I wanted to inhale from the pain in my balls, this guy's hand was blocking me from breathing too heavily. Finally I put my hand on his wrist and he immediately moved it away from my neck. He spoke to me. "Good boy. I'll get at you again sometime. Work at you some more," and he walked away from me and I suddenly realized that a group of men had been watching us, including Mitch.
He came over to me and said "As soon as I saw that guy's hand on your throat I decided to stay around, just in case," he said, and I thanked him. "Never tried that before," I said. "It was kind of hot, and he stopped the second I gave a signal. "Will you let him work you again sometime?" "Probably. In fact, I HOPE so. But I'd never go home with anyone into that." "Smart," said Mitch. "It's kind of safe here," he noted. "You can try a lot without getting yourself in trouble." I decided right then and there that I was going to become a regular member of this club. Even if so-and-so was also around. Would remind him of what he tossed away because of his own stupidity.
At one point I went to the bar and asked for water. A couple of older men were leaning on the bar and chatting. "bottle or bowl?" he asked me and when I looked confused, the grandfather-type with fuzzy white hair on his bare chest dressed in a leather vest said to me, "He's asking if someone's gonna feed you from a bottle or if you're gonna lap it up from a bowl on the floor," and he points to a part of the bowls on the floor. I got this wild idea, "Would you give me a drink, Daddy?" I asked. The bartender was watching this so he handed Grandpa a short bottle. He slapped me on the ass and ordered me to kneel down, which I did. He put the bottle to my mouth. "Suck," he ordered and I took the nipple in my mouth and took what I needed. Then I pulled away from it and he put the bottle up on the bar. "Open your mouth," he commanded, and I did and leaned back looking up at him, and when I saw the big glob of spit forming on his lips I opened my mouth wider. And so for the next few minutes, I continued to be fed his spit and swallowing, and thanking him until at last, he put his hand down and grabbed one of my nipples and pulled it up, and so I stood before him, still keeping my eyes lowered, mainly because I didn't want to be turned off looking at him. He was really old. But damn, he had gotten under my submissive skin. "When's the last time your Daddy gave you a good thrashing, faggot?"
"Never been thrashed by a Daddy before, Sir," I answered. Next thing I know he was taking me over to a bench in one of the back rooms and bending me over his knees. His hand was warm and he spent a long time caressing and exploring my ass and the more he did that the more I really felt like a small schoolboy about to get the thrashing of his life for causing a lot of trouble. Gently he began tapping my flesh in various spots on each check. Then wham! 5 hard smacks he laid on me and I yelped and he immediately went back to caressing what he's just hit so far. And that's how it went. I have no idea how long, but it was long, that's for sure. He'd bring me to the extent of my limit and suddenly back down and rub my sore flesh. On and on it went. Eventually I began crying and then he really started smacking me hard until I was howling like a little child and then the caressing started all over again. Meanwhile I was getting more and more sore and it felt like the burn as spreading itself deep inside my flesh. Eventually he stopped. Someone said hello to him. I thought I recognized the voice. "Gave the boy a good thrashing, Mario, you sure did."
"He's a good boy," says Grandpa—now Mario. "I've got to get going. Want a crack at this sub yourself now?"
"You bet," said the voice. "You know what I say: no one sucks cock better than a cocksucker who just got a good thrashing." Holy shit! It must be Tyler. Damn, I'm so glad Mitch convinced me to put the hood on. Tyler sat on the bench next to Mario. "Kneel down here, faggot," he said to me, and trying to hide how eager I was, I slid to my knees. He opened his legs and said "Take it out." With my trembling hands I did so. He held on to his cock. "Put the tip in your mouth, boy. Show me a good time, or do you need more ass-whipping?" I shook my head no and put my tongue to work toying with him, burying itself in his slit, eager to suck up any pre-cum that leaked out. "That's it, faggot. You drink, pup?" Shit! He knew it was me! I wasn't sure what he meant by drinking and I tried to shrug my shoulders. "So you don't. Too bad." And with that he got up and walked away. It was left kneeling there, naked and humiliated and only then noticed that Mario was still sitting there and had observed the entire thing. "He meant piss, boy. He was asking if you would drink his piss. You're lucky he just didn't start pissing in your mouth the way you were milking his slit. So is it true? Do you suck better after a thrashing?" What the fuck! Why not totally debase myself. "Yes, Daddy." "Do you need more thrashing before I let you suck my cock, boy?" "No, Daddy. I'll be a good boy, Daddy." With a deep sigh, I knelt up between his legs and took his hard dick into my mouth and OMG, it was a really nice cock. So I sucked the elderly man off imagining it was the cock of a 20yo college stud and damn it, I gave the best blow job I've ever given anyone before. After he shot his load, not too big, and I swallowed, he put his hand in my hair and pulled my head back so I was looking up right into his face. "Something for you to learn, slut. Always serve the cocks. No matter how old or what they look like. At lot of men you'd never look at twice had the hottest and most awesome dicks you'll ever get to service. Don't be fussy. Serve the dicks. That's what you're meant do to." And with that, he slapped me across the face and spit into my mouth again before getting up and walking away. There I was, on the ground, spit dripping off my face, and left me wallowing in embarrassment.
Suddenly, Tyler was back, pulling on my nipples, making me stand. When I did, he pulled off my hood and stared into my eyes while slapping my balls and the holding them tightly. "He's not here tonight. Besides that shouldn't matter any more. You just keep on coming here as much as you can. Always be naked and hooded and you'll be safe. I'll be keeping an eye on you. You can get a lot of good practice here. It will save me time. I'm thinking maybe I'll take you for myself once I think you're ready. In the meantime, go be the faggot slut that men around here like to enjoy. I'll be watching. If anyone wants to take you for himself, tell him you're already claimed. By me. That will keep you safe." Did he know that word means so much to me? Did I ever tell Bobby that? Shit. I can't remember. But what did he mean by my being ready. I asked him. "Ready? Not sure I understand, Sir."
"Ready to learn from me, pup. Keep coming by. You've got a lot to learn. Every superior man around here has something to teach you. Every Daddy here wants to bend you over and show you what it means to be a good boy. When you're ready, I'll claim you for myself as my slave." And he puts the hood back over my head, slaps my dick a couple times and walks away. I sit back on the bench, dazed. Trying to process what's been happening. Thinking I need to get out of here. I try to stand up but my legs aren't strong enough to hold me up yet, so I go crashing down. I just put my head back and close my eyes, feeling so lonely and, desperate, thinking I should have surrendered myself to Bobby on his terms and not on my own. Knowing I deserved a lot more punishment before I could ever really become some guy's slave.
Suddenly someone is standing in front of me. "It's midnight, faggot. You're mine now." It's Kurt, looking hotter than ever. "Um, Tyler has claimed me so I'm not sure it's okay for me to . . . " He slaps my face as I'm trying to speak. "I know all about that. I'm training you for him." He puts a hand under my armpit and lifts me up, digging his fingers into my pit. I stand and try to get out of his grasp. "Your role is to submit, not to try to escape," he tells me. He takes me by the neck and brings me over to that place where the shower nozzle is. He stands me under it and turns it on and OMG, I'm bathed in tepid water. He hands me a bar of soap. "Clean your junk and asshole," he commands. "Quickly!" I do it as best I can. He takes the soap from me and puts it down. Turns off the shower. Takes me to a back room. Opens his locker. Takes out a cock cage and puts it on me with my dick still wet. Not as tight as the one I had to wear before, thank God, but it feels good to be caged again. It feels right. I shouldn't have control over that thing between my legs. That's for Masters to decide. Then he puts a collar around my neck and attaches a leash. And walks me through the club, my body wet, still dripping from the shower, until we get to the entrance where I have my locker. I open the locker. He takes the shirt and shorts from the locker and tells me to put them on. Over my wet body. He takes off my hood, not caring who sees me in this condition. He doesn't let go of the leash. In this part of town, no one is going to freak out.
It's a little cool outside now and I'm trembling, cold and damp and somewhat terrified at how much I realize I'm willing to let this guy take me home for whatever he wants. He drives a beat-up old Chevy. He opens the passenger door, holds my head like I'm being arrested, and shoves me down onto the front seat of the car. He gets in his side and sits on the leash so my head is pulled down to the seat and I can't get up. "Stay like that." I'm happy to do so and I can close my eyes. I'm not afraid of him, I'm afraid of ME! What will he get from me?
We ride for quite a while. It's a rough ride, but he turns on the heat and the car is warm. The shocks in this car are shot. We pull off a road and are heading along a very rough path and I'm being jostled in the collar he put on me. He pulls up to a house and stops the car. Turns off the lights. "Don't move," he tells me. He gets out of the car then pulls on the leash and pulls me out of the car on his side. I look up and see a beautiful house. All brick and ebony. He unclips the leash and orders me to strip. Right here. I pull off my shirt and drop my shorts. He takes them and tosses them into the car. "Sandals too," he says. I have trouble doing so. He gets frustrated and slaps me then pulls them off himself and throws them into the car as well. Shuts the door, then grabs me by the balls and leads me into the house pulling me that way. We enter the house and it is really a nice place. Brick and wooden beams. Handcuffs and implements hanging on the walls. Totally Alpha. He brings me into the kitchen and tells me to close my eyes. He flips a switch and I'm bathed in intense warm light, like one of those heat lamps you find in bathrooms. He takes a bottle of juice and pours half a glass of it. Then pours in some powder. "I'm not giving you a roofie, but this will mellow you out and make you obedient and submissive. Drink this down." He hands me the glass and I say "what the fuck" to myself and chug it down. "good boy. Good slave. That's what you want to become, isn't it, pup? I can hardly speak. The words seem to force their way out of me. "Yes, Master." "Down!" he commands and I kneel. "Crawl after me." He heads inside and I simply follow on my hands and knees realizing that it felt so good to call him "Master." So right. So appropriate.
He stops me in the center of the room and turns on another bright light and puts his hands on my ass checking it out. "Daddy thrashed you good, boy, but that's a couple hours ago. I'm gonna put my own mark on you now, and you'll be my faggot for tonight. Just for tonight. I'm not gonna get involved with one of Tyler's bitches." So a new name now: bitch? This guy seems tough as hell so I decide to go along with what he wants unless it gets too violent.
He gives an order: "Lean up over the end of the couch." I do so and he takes an arm and binds one wrist to the side of the couch and uses a rope to bind my other wrist to my foot and leaves me there in that weird position. "How old are you, pup?" "Nineteen, Master."
"Then you get nineteen. count them." I hear something swish through the air and realize it's some kind of cane. Oh shit! One lash lands and I cry out. Damn, does it bite! "One," I shout out.
"No, faggot. You say "One, Master! We'll begin again." The cane cuts into me again and I cry out, "Two, Master!" By the time we get to ten I'm sobbing out the count and cry out for mercy. "Slaves don't beg for mercy, not in this house, faggot! Start with 10 again." He continues and I'm floating in a tornado of pain. He stops at 19. "There. A good flogging for a 19 year old slave," he says. "Kneel up." I do so, still sobbing. He gets out of his pants and slides his legs under my bound arms with his cock in my face. "Suck it, slave. Show me what a good cocksucker you are for all Masters." Whatever he gave me to drink is having its effect on me because I eagerly devour him and even willingly force myself to choke on his big cock untll he grabs my head and uses my mouth to suck him off without choking again until at last he shouts out and shoots a huge load down my throat and I have trouble holding it all in my mouth. He puts his hand at my face and forces back into my mouth what I almost spilled out. "Swallow it, faggot. Drink it all. Learn what I taste like. I'm sure your Master will lend you to me from time to time. Maybe even blindfolded, so learn what I taste like so you'll know you were giving me a blow job.!" There's that word again; drink. He waits a bit for my breathing to settle down. He continues to hold his cock in my mouth and I can feel it soften. My blood is racing. My caned ass hurts more than ever before, and all I can think of is how much I want to please this Master, to show him just how much I need to be turned into the type of slave who deserves to belong to him. "I'm gonna help you get ready for Tyler, faggot! And with that, I realize that he's actually pissing in my mouth. I try to fight him off but he holds my head firm. "Drink, bitch, or you'll get another 19!" I have no choice. I drink it down. It's awful. But then he stops. "enough for tonight, faggot. Just remember what you did. You're becoming a fucking urinal. Getting ready to serve Tyler. Now follow me."
He walks into another room which turns out to be his bedroom. The bed is low to the floor and appears to be well equipped for many different forms of bondage. "Crawl up off the floor and onto the bed," he commands. Once I get there he chains my collar to the bed, clips my hands behind my back and then shoves my face into his armpit. "Clean it out, pig!" I'm finding this intoxicating. Must be the drug. Funny. He only makes him clean out one pit. Next thing I know he's got his arms around me and damn his body feels so warm. he throws an arm around my bound neck and quickly falls asleep. At some point, I follow him but awaken a few times during the night because the pain in my ass is still burning brightly through the darkness of the night. And I can still taste the awful taste of his piss in my mouth and realize, much to my horror, that this is going to be the norm for me in this new "stage" of my life.
Please write me and let me know what you think of this new story. subkodak25@gmail.com
Here are the other stories I have posted, with the dates where you can find them:
The Alex Chronicles 9/25/2022 Sweet Subjugation 1/15/2023 Brandon's Bosses 4/3/2023 Brandon's Brothers 5/19/2023 Total Subjugation 5/25/2023 Tommy Loves His Sub 8/17/2023 Training Toby 12/31/2023 Breaking me in—current
Can anyone suggest another site where I could post these stories?
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