But Sir! -- Chapter 1 Subjugation by Antaeus
This begins the enforced chronicle of my relationship with Sir. That's not his name, but I would never think of using it, neither will I disclose it here. I first heard of him from a friend who shared the same kink that I do of being tied, restrained and used by another man. My buddy had told me about him and the fact that he is very selective about who he accepts as his boys. On top of that, you have to wait to hear if he has decided to seek a new one or not. Once you have his number, and that isn't easy to get, you text him with a single line, otherwise you will never hear from him again. He has given me the go ahead to print that line here, which is: "Sir, would you allow me to be subjugated to you?" and you include a nude photo. If he's interested in seeing you, you'll receive a date and a time. You need to know ahead of time about his protocol, which I'll explain. Any deviation and he will not see you.
You dress simply, just a T-shirt, chino shorts or slacks, white athletic socks and shoes. Oh, and critical, a pair of white Hanes briefs. Sir lives in an upscale apartment building in the financial district and the first time you visit you just tell the doorman '44B' and he'll smile at you in a knowing way and let you pass. You head up to the 40th floor and when you get to 44B you'll see that the door is fitted with a large, hinged mail chute. You remove all of your clothes except for your briefs, pull the chute open and put everything in it including phone, keys, wallet, etc. It took me a while to build up the courage to go through with this part. When he responded to my text my heart jumped in anticipation and luckily I had two days to decide whether or not to show up at his door. After you undress and drop your stuff in the chute you stand at attention and stare at a naked satyr door knocker, which you mustn't touch. The knocker is patinated a lustrous green except on the satyr's huge balls that hang between it's legs and form the knocker. The balls are shiny brass, not from all the use they get, but from being polished by Sir's boys. I'll explain later how that gets accomplished.
The first time I visited Sir I waited for at least 45 minutes, others have told me that an hour is not uncommon and the shortest I have stood at his door is 15 minutes. Yes, people come and go down the hall. It's not a busy floor, but busy enough that you hear smirks and giggles sometimes. It is not illegal for a man to be in public wearing a pair of tighty-whiteys and I've even fetched Sirs mail and paper from the first floor in them. It's just sort of humiliating, which is something I have learned that Sir enjoys. Oh, and he is watching you, he has access to the building security cams. One visit I was waiting and a courier came up to the door and said, "Excuse me," and reached over and used the knocker. Sir opened the door and said, "Move aside boy" and I promptly obeyed. He took the package, signed for it, then closed the door. I stepped back into place and the delivery guy said with a smile, "That may have been for you, it was from some dungeon place." It was another twenty minutes or so before Sir opened the door for me.
Back to my initial visit, when Sir opened the door I was face-to-face with him at last. I took a quick look and then lowered my eyes. He was at least six foot four and clearly extremely fit. It was hard for me to tell his age, his close-cropped hair and beard were silvery--not just gray, but almost luminescent. His eyes are bright blue and both piercing and commanding at the same time. He dressed simply, a tight fitting T-shirt and 501's showing a bulge that made me gasp involuntarily. "Come inside boy and let me have a look at you."
I did as I was told and found myself in a large hallway, a huge mirror on the wall across from the door allowed me to marvel at the back of this incredibly refined man. He reached down quickly and cupped my bulge causing me to spring to attention so fast I surprised myself, and him too. "Boy, that was some display," he chuckled as he fondled my junk through the soft cotton, "I am going to call you 'Popper' from now on."
"Get your clothes out of the mail bin there. Fold 'em neatly and put them on that table and then come on in." I grabbed my things from the bin attached to the door and did as he commanded and then went into what turned out to be the living room. There was a glass wall on one side looking out over the river and a stone fireplace dominated the side wall, with floor to ceiling bookcases flanking it. He had huge, red leather furniture and when I walked in he had sat down in one of the chairs. He motioned towards the floor in front of the chair and I somehow knew instinctively to get down on all fours at his feet.
"I can see that you already understand a few of the rules, break them and you'll be punished. There is no 'safeword' or any other such nonsense because you are free to leave at any time, you are not a prisoner. If I restrain you and you ask to leave, you'll wait until I let you loose, but you won't be back, ever. Understood?"
"Yes, Sir!" I said excitedly gazing up at him like a happy puppy. He continued, "I decide the when and where, not you. I decide the how and what as well. Whether I invite you back depends on your performance while I allow you to be in my presence, is that understood?"
"Oh, yes, yes SIR!" I was in ecstasy just thinking about this man controlling me and I wanted nothing more than for it to never end. "Ok then, come with me. You can stand."
I followed him out of the living room and into a large and modern kitchen. Later I discovered that he owned the apartment we were in as well as the one on the floor above. He had them remodeled and combined, which explained the high ceilings in some rooms and the hugeness of the place. He stopped and turned to me saying, "Ok then, let me have those briefs." I quickly stepped out of them and handed them over. He held them up to his face and took a deep breath. "Ummmm, quite fragrant--I enjoy the smell of a young man's balls. Do you know how to 'Ranger Roll' a pair of briefs?"
"Yes, Sir--I was Airborne/Ranger in the service." He handed my briefs back, "Roll these, and I suggest you make them as tight as possible." He had nodded towards the counter and I laid them out with the pouch up, folding the waistband down at the top. Then I folded them and did the roll. I was quite proud of how tight I could roll clothing, makes a big difference on bivouac. When I finished he picked up the roll and commanded "Open up!" I knew where those briefs were going and I opened my mouth so that he could shove them in. "Those are not to leave your mouth until I remove them." "Yeth, Sur!" I garbled through the gag.
Sir then led me into a large room with tiled flooring and again a wall of glass to the outside. This room faced the apartment building across the street. There was all sorts of equipment, benches, tables and stuff hanging from the black painted ceiling--it was clearly the playroom. Against the far wall was a set of four cabinets. On each cabinet door a large paddle with a leather lace hung from a small wooden knob. Three of the paddles had names carved into them, "Jocko", "Spit" and "Wanger". Sir saw me looking at the blank paddle and read my mind. "That's right boy, the blank one is for you if you pass muster today. Do you think you are up to it?"
"Yeth, Thur!"
He opened one of the cabinets and I saw shelves with various bondage items on them. He pulled a pair of leather cuffs out and put them on my wrists, then he pulled my arms behind me and I heard the click of a fastener, handcuffing me. When he did that I felt a small rush and my dick popped to attention. "Boy, I named you well," he said smiling. I felt good that he was pleased with me, this is what I wanted. A heavy leather collar was next and then he motioned to a pair of recessed eye-hooks mounted in the floor. "Stand there boy." Then he put a pair of ankle cuffs on me and attached them to the eye-hooks. My arms were secured behind my back and my feet to the floor, spread about shoulder-width apart. I was starting to feel good, restrained at last by this silverback dad. In front of me was a smaller version of the red leather chairs that he had in the living room--I knew it wasn't for me. There was a small round side table next to it and Sir picked up what looked to be some sort of remote from it. Then he pushed a button and I heard a whir and what sounded like a chain descending from the ceiling behind me. He threaded the chain through a ring at the back of my collar and then I felt a tug at my wrists and heard the click of another fastener.
Again he went to the cabinet, pulled something else out of it and came back and squatted down in front of me. I felt him attach a strap to my nuts and felt my ballsack being pulled towards the floor. It must have been a strap of some sort, maybe a bungie. I was able to bend my knees and squat to relieve the pressure on my nuts, but this now tightened the neck chain that had been somewhat loose until now. Things had gotten intense, even the smallest movement stretched me in a way I did not want to go--I had found a comfort point in a deep squat with some tight pressure on my arms, but it wouldn't be easy maintaining it. My head was held back by the chain and my chest was stretched taught by the cuffs pulling my arms up. Sir put the remote down on the table and stood in front of me, his hands massaging my pecs. he pinched my nipples and I moaned loudly. "Good development, how often do you work out?"
"Awout thra tines ow wik, Thur" I replied.
"Now we need to do something about that tight butt of yours." "My butt?" I thought with just a little alarm. I was already pretty stretched out as it was. Then I felt something pressing up against my butthole. Sir was behind me now, with one hand on my shoulder. "This may hurt a bit boy, but you can take it." Then he explained "This is a plug of my own invention. The dildo is a copy of my dick so you can get idea of what may come later. It's attached to a spring loaded rod that I've fixed to the floor at the same point as the bungie pulling on your nuts. It's diabolical. So, you decide--balls, ass, arms, legs. I am looking forward to seeing how far you get."
With a sudden shove he pushed what felt like a banana up my ass. I moaned loudly into my briefs gag, which was soaked with my spit and I had to bite down to keep from spitting it out. "I did lube it for you boy," he said with a chuckle and I gasped out a muffled "Frank u, Thur!"
By now I was starting to sweat and my legs were quivering a bit. When I eased the pressure on my balls, it put more strain on my arms and pushed the banana deeper into my ass. I was determined to last as long as I could.
"Oh yeah, one more thing boy before we start, the questionnaire."
"Questionnaire?" I wondered.
"We have to christen your paddle." I heard a swish and felt the board land on the upper half of my ass cheeks just above where the dildo was, spread wide and tight from my squatting position. I shrieked into the gag. After four more swats I was crying and dancing every which way to escape the paddle while keeping my nuts attached, my shoulders from dislocating and the dildo from splitting my ass apart. Add to that the fact that I could barely breathe.
I was practically delirious as Sir, who apparently had left the room, returned holding a glass of something, an iPad and a lit cigar. He set the pad and glass down on the table and since my dick was limp he reached over and gave it a few pulls. "Come on little Popper, you can do better than this," he said mockingly. It didn't pop, but slowly decided to harden up. Sir sank back in his chair, took a drag on his cigar and blew smoke in my face. I gasped desperately into the gag, fighting for air as the sweat poured off of me and my leg and arm muscles vibrated like violin strings. He took a sip of the amber colored liquid in his glass and said "Now this is how I like to see a boy, let's get to it." He picked up the iPad and started reading from it.
"Name?" Rah-yan Mah-lar, I blurted out though the gag. He already knew my name and could hardly have understood it from my muffled response.
"Address?" Again I gave the muffled answer. Each time I replied he touched the pad as if he was taking data for the census. Sir continued on with all sorts of questions that I was sure he already knew the answers to.
Then he reached down and picked something up from the floor. He held it up where I could see it, it was one of those red silicone spoons you find in a kitchen. "I call this the 'thwacker' and I use it to train my boys so that they maintain absolute and total attention to me. The next set of questions are yes and no, but I expect a near instantaneous response out of you. Do you understand?"
"YETH!" I blurted through the gag.
Sir reached over and thwacked the bottom of my nut sack and I literally saw stars as I jumped from the pain.
"What boy?"
"YETH, THUR!"
It was everything I could do to keep from collapsing. In the fog of my mind he owned me and he knew it. He pressed on nonetheless.
"Now I am going to read you the Boys Bill of Rights, and you will acknowledge that you understand them and that you can expect that I will abide by them, understood?"
"YETH, THUR!", I screamed through the gag--and I meant it.
"Number one, every boy has the right to have his body, intellect, and emotions protected by his Sir."
"YETH, THUR!", I said.
"Number two, every boy has the right to choose the man whom he serves and to discontinue that service and take his leave without being subjected to physical, mental, or emotional abuse."
"YETH, THUR!", again.
He continued through all ten of them and then asked "May I continue? Can you take more?"
I paused, this question coming from him, asking me for permission, I couldn't think, then...thwack!
I screamed into the gag, then, mustering something from somewhere I cried out "YETH, YETH THUR!"
"Good boy, now some of my rules. Keep in mind that my rules are subject to change and I make new ones as needed for my boys. First, and foremost, you will engage with no other Sir in any way without my express permission, understood?"
"Yeth, Thur" I said weakly, not because I wasn't willing to be totally faithful, but because I was nearing exhaustion.
"You will not cum, ever, without my express permission. Understood?"
"Yeth, Thur," I recall saying, but that that point I was completely spent, he had broken me, his dildo was shoved deep up into my ass as I sagged, my balls throbbing in pain from the thwacks and my shoulders and chest on fire.
I don't remember him letting me out of the restraints, only that I was on the floor, my briefs were no longer in my mouth and Sir was holding me. "Here boy, drink this," he said gently as he held a glass to my lips. I drank greedily, it was cold, some sort of performance drink.
As I came around he lifted me to my feet, like a child. "Now we need to get you cleaned up."
He led me out of the playroom and down the hall back to the kitchen. We went through a door into what looked like a laundry room as it had a washer and dryer, sink, folding counter, but in the center of the room was a large, table-like contraption. "Ok boy, get on," Sir pointed to the platform. Then it dawned on me, this was a grooming table for a dog, on one end was a post for the dog's collar, but this one had what looked like a stirrup attached to it. On the other end was a hose with a shower-like nozzle. I climbed on board and Sir pumped a foot pedal as the table rose in the air. "Bite on this boy," Sir said and pointed to the stirrup-thing in front of my face. I bit down on it and it felt like it was some sort of soft metal, a bit rough. I grimaced when I realized that I wasn't the first to bite down on it. Sir chuckled, "That's right, all of my boys are groomed on this table. If you lose your bite on that stirrup you will regret it," he said ominously. Then he pulled a pair of light chains from under each corner of the table that had hand-cuffs attached. These he clamped to my wrists and ankles so I wasn't going anywhere. There was no key, apparently just a catch released them, but in my current state I wasn't getting free of them even with a key. Sir made a few adjustments to the post and my position on the table and then left the room. I felt like I was on display for the kennel club.
After a bit, not sure how long, I heard a doorbell and then Sir welcoming someone at the door. "It must be the groomer," I thought to myself. After a minute or so Sir reappeared with a middle-age hispanic woman. "Maria, this is Popper. Do him like the other boys."
Maria didn't say a word but started bustling about behind me and running water at the sink. I couldn't see much given that I was on all fours on the table with my head held up at an angle as I bit on the stirrup. "OK Popper, we get you cleaned up first," I heard her say in a heavy spanish accent and then felt a wet, soapy sponge on my back. She had a basin full of warm water and had started to soap me down. I will say she was thorough and aside from the embarrassment of being naked on all fours on a grooming table, the wash down felt pretty good. She didn't hesitate around my junk or my ass, scrubbing those as if they were areas that Sir had told her to give extra attention to. Then she rinsed me down with the hose and gave me a quick rubdown with a towel. The hair on my head was next, I keep it short, but apparently Sir wanted it shorter. The haircut didn't last long though and for a moment I thought that was it.
I heard her bustling about over at the counter, but I couldn't see what she was doing. I am fairly smooth down below and had shaved myself pretty close before coming over. Then I jumped as I felt something thick and hot on my butt. I squirmed and would have turned around to ask what she was doing, but the thought of what Sir would do if I let go of the stirrup held me back. Then I felt what was unmistakably waxing cloth being smoothed over the spot where I had felt the heat. Without warning she ripped the cloth off and I screeched into the bit. I had never been waxed but watched a buddy have it done once and he did quite a bit of screeching! She must have done it about six times, all around my bung hole. Then she put some lotion on and said soothingly, "That's all, you're done with the wax." All I thought was "Thank god she didn't do my balls!", but then I felt something cool and wet being rubbed onto my nuts. "Is a special lotion, I no know what it does, but this is where it goes," she said matter of factly. Whatever it was she rubbed it in well, stroking and pulling on my sack until I felt a raging hardon develop. After she finished I heard her bustle about a bit and then leave the room. That was when I started feeling the effect of the lotion.
At first it was a warmth, sort of like the way Ben-Gay or Tiger Balm feels, but much more subtle. As my balls got hotter they also started to itch. Just a little at first, but building to the point that it was near unbearable between the heat and the itch. I couldn't reach down and scratch so I tried swaying just to get them to slap the inside of my thighs for some relief, any relief.
"That's quite a show, boy" I startled when I heard Sir laughing behind me. "That lotion is a special one that I have shipped in from Brazil--it's made by a tribe that lives deep in the rainforest. A combination of aphrodisiac, stimulant and irritant all in one. You are going to stay hard for the next three hours or so...and the bonus is that the heat and itch on your balls will stay around for that long as well!"
He undid the cuffs and told me I could get down off the table. When I immediately reached for my groin he knocked my hands away. "No touching, boy."
"Yes, Sir," I said dejectedly as my engorged shaft, now sporting a deep purple head, bobbed above my burning and itching balls.
"I've looked at your physical endurance and now I want to see your sexual. Whether or not you get to cum today depends entirely on you." He led me back into the playroom in the center of which was now a metal contraption that looked like a huge, robot spider. It was clearly set up to restrain me with handholds and clamps fitted to articulating arms. I had never seen anything like it and my guess was that Sir had it custom made. "Climb aboard, boy, for the ride of your life," Sir chuckled. I did as ordered, grabbing the handholds and putting my feet against what looked like runner's starting blocks. Sir secured my hands and feet with velcro straps and there was no way I was going anywhere. Again he pressed buttons on his remote and the hand and foot rests moved until I was at a bent posture such that I was almost standing, doubled over. Through my spread legs I could see my red and glistening balls and engorged erection. My junk looked alien to me, I had never seen my dick that purple color or my nut sack pulsing as it did. The fire and itch seemed to have increased and I wriggled my ass trying to get some relief. Sir laughed, "Go ahead boy, nothing you can do is going to relieve the itch until it subsides on its own. Let me show you what this device can do."
He pressed buttons on his remote and the foot blocks and handholds moved. He could take me from completely doubled over to standing at attention. As he moved me through different postures I thought what a great automated yoga machine this would be. When he stopped the demonstration I was back doubled over with my legs and arms painfully stretched out. Sir had gone over to one of his cabinets and came back with a bit gag that had the largest spoon I had ever seen on one. He slipped it in my mouth and fastened the strap around my head. The front of the bit had a ring and he clipped a bungie that was hanging from the ceiling to that, pulling my head up sharply.
I heard a slight whooshing sound and then felt the paddle hit my upturned ass. I groaned into the gag and waited for the next one. It didn't come and then I realized Sir had left the room. After a few minutes he came back and said, "Now for something special boy. Maria makes these for me and this one is well aged." I felt his finger massage my bung hole roughly and then something cold pressed against it. Some pressure and then he slid whatever it was into my ass. It was cold and felt like a small butt plug, but somewhat rough textured. The way it was shaped I felt the tip of it against my fun gland. "This is a ginger fig, boy. Have you ever had one?"
"Nuh, thur," I repled into the gag. "I didn't think so. Ahhh, it's starting to work." That's when I felt the stinging heat from the thing and began bearing down, unconsciously, trying to shit it out of me. That was the fiendish thing with this, the more I tried to expel it, the tighter my sphincter grabbed it. "Boy, if you find the need to cum during your figging you have my permission to do so." "Tank you thur!"
Then the paddling resumed. Each time he hit me my ass tightened and the burn exploded. This caused me to try to push the fig out, which opened my ass cheeks to the paddle, which, of course, Sir took advantage of with the next swat. He really wasn't hitting me as hard as he did before, but I think this was part of the drill. By the tenth or so swat, I could not keep track between the burning and itching all over my groin and ass, I started to feel the upwelling and wanted to cum badly. As I tried, I just could not get in sync with the pain. I have never been so frustrated to cum in my life.
"OK, that's it. Too bad you couldn't get off boy," Sir chuckled. Again I was spent and I felt him pull the fig out of my butt. He hit a few buttons on his control and the machine brought me to a deep squat in front of him. In the window behind him I could see my glistening ball sack hanging down low beneath my engorged cock that jutted out at a 90º angle from my body. "That was exhausting, let's take a rest." He removed the gag and then left the room. I don't know long he was gone, but when he returned he pressed buttons again and I slowly rose to a standing position, groaning loudly from the pain in my legs coming out of the extended squat. Then he bent me over again and went behind me. I felt something at the tip of my cock,like some sort of cap made from soft rubber or something, and saw his hand slip whatever it was over the glans in the reflection of the window.
"When was the last time you came, boy?" He had pushed his finger into my ass and was giving me a prostate exam. "Well Sir, it was at least a week ago, as per your instructions" I said truthfully. "Yep, that's confirmed, you are quite built up in there." He pulled his finger out and climbed up onto the machine behind me. I felt a bit of lube touch my bung and then the head of his dick against it. "Do you want me to fuck you boy?"
"Yes, yes Sir! Please Sir!"
"Good, do not come until I say." "Yes, SIR!" I cried excitedly as he entered me. His thrusts were slow and deliberate, each one pushing the head of his dick across my fun gland. I moaned and wanted badly to touch my dick, now bobbing slowly with his thrusts, the soft cap that he had put on the end of it making it move like a pendulum.
As he continued I felt the deep well of my weeks worth of cum start to surface. My low hanging sack had risen and I knew I could not hold out much longer. "Please Sir, please!" "Hold it boy, hold it!" he commanded. I strained against the onslaught pummeling my balls and butt. Sir stiffened and then yelled "Now boy, now!" The two of us shuddered in unison as he pumped hot jizz into my crack and I pumped it into the cup gripping the tip of my cock. I can't say how long this lasted, but my aching, burning and itching balls were spent and Sir rested against my back, breathing heavily. Eventually he stood and withdrew.
"You did good boy!" he said and I beamed. Then he raised me to standing and undid the gag and bungie from around my head. He gently removed the rubber cap from my dick and looked at it. "Wow," he exclaimed, "you put out quite a bit of juice!" Then he held the cap to my lips, "Drink!" he commanded. I had never eaten my own cum before, but for this man, with that command, I didn't hesitate. It was a lot and surprised even me. "Now lick it clean," Sir said and I did.
Sir let me out of the machine and told me to put my briefs back on. Then he led me to the front hall.
"Get your clothes, I'll let you know when I want to see you again."
He opened the door and I went out into the hall holding my stuff.
"Thank you, SIR!" I said as the door slammed behind me.