The following story is a work of complete fiction, dreamed up in my own twisted little mind. I invented Lance and Sebastian, and any resemblance they might have to real people is purely coincidental. If you're uncomfortable with themes of consensual, loving bondage, domination/submission, or humiliation and training between two young men, please stop reading here. Everyone else, enjoy!
Thanks to TL for encouragement and to istari for inspiration.
Comments are welcomed, adored, and lovingly spanked and petted at bondedboy13@yahoo.com
Part Seven: Disrespect
It's funny how quickly people fall into routines and accept changes in their lives. When I nudged Sebastian awake the next morning, he didn't bitch or moan as usual, just lay there curled in his bed, yawning and blinking, all tucked up in his blanket and looking completely adorable. Before I could say a word he was slowly stretching and hauling himself out, and without being asked, he crawled to my side and up into my lap, presenting his ass for discipline.
I unlocked his strap and spread my palm over one full globe, making him hum. For all his leanness, Seb has a pert, round, high little bottom, perfect spheres separated by a slim crack that's somehow pretty. I knew he'd be glad he had the padding there before too long, but for my part, I just thought it was cute. And so sexy. Right then it was still red, the darkness of bruises showing through in a couple of spots, but it looked much better than it had the night before; oh, the benefits of a youthful recovery time! Still, I resolved that besides his spanking, I wouldn't whip him there today, unless he truly pushed me. I'd read some things about cock torture that interested me, and we'd be trying that out soon.
"Morning, Sebastian," I said, interrupting another huge yawn.
"Morning, sir," he said sleepily, wrapping fingers around one of my ankles.
"Did you sleep well?" I stroked the elegant groove of his spine with my fingertips, and he arched and purred.
"Yeah. Yes sir."
"Good. Let's get the day started, okay? Count please." My morning wood was pressing into his abdomen just above the metal of his plate, and he wiggled on it teasingly.
Ten hard smacks with my hand and he was definitely awake, and I saw another benefit of our morning spankings. Usually it takes him hours to wake up completely, and he grumps sleepily around the house until he's had breakfast and coffee and showered. Sebastian is not a morning person. With the fresh red imprint of my palm on his behind, he was rigid and thrumming and alert, though he'd managed not to scream this time, the count coming out in little bursts of pained breath. I lifted him off my lap immediately afterwards and pressed him to his knees, ignoring his panting and fisting my hands in his hair, dragging him forward until he swallowed my cock.
Is there any better view than the red wet mouth of your slave wrapped around your meat, nostrils flaring as he struggles to breathe past the hard flesh working its way down his throat? Any better feeling than the panicked tattoo of his tongue fluttering against your cock, working frantically to get you off? His mouth was wet and warm and as he settled into a rhythm, I gentled my hands in his hair, letting my hips start to thrust.
"That's a good baby," I crooned, "oh, what a sweet little cocksucker you are, Sebastian. Now get me off, make me come." He responded by swallowing and sucking hard, and I came like a rocket, pumping myself down that sweet tight throat with vicious thrusts. He whimpered and swallowed and swallowed some more, throat clamping around my swollen head, and with my last few pulses I pulled back, shooting into his mouth. I touched his face. "Don't swallow. I want you to hold it in your mouth." I slipped my softening cock out of his mouth, leaving a smear of wetness on his lips, and he just stared at me, confusion clear on his face. But I could tell he was obediently holding some jism in his mouth, and I grinned at him approvingly.
"No talking for a little bit. That load in your mouth will be a reminder." His eyes widened in shock, and he made an urgent noise in his throat. "I mean it, Seb. I'll be checking." I thumbed his chin, forcing his mouth open, and there was thick white goo pooled behind his teeth, over his tongue. I closed it again, and stroked his bottom lip with my thumb. "Good boy. Don't lose any. Now, on your feet please." He stood reluctantly, anger starting to show in his face and eyes. "Mind your manners, Seb," I reminded him gently, and he dropped his head. "Do you have to use the toilet?" He nodded sulkily. "Okay, let's go."
He peed in grim silence, my hand on his shoulder and his face bright red, and I showered while he stood at attention, holding a towel ready for me. I felt good, relaxed and ready to face the day, having had a good orgasm and with my slave just wallowing in shame a few feet away. He showered as I dressed, and stood passively as I checked his armpits and the crack of his ass for any lingering funk. When I locked the strap back onto his belt, he sent me a pleading look, and I shook my head. "Not till later, we'll scrub you out after lunch. I think you have some chores to do, right? If you need me, I'll be in the practice room." I slapped his ass and sent him on his way, offended dignity just radiating from him.
I sighed, after he'd left. It's a good thing I love that boy so much it's ridiculous, because honestly this was turning out to be a lot of hard work. My own self control had been tested more than once. I had to be constantly alert to him, his personality and his moods and his body language, and constantly vigilant, evaluating his behavior. I had to be careful that he was never in real trouble, and mindful of the fact that there was a deep resistance in him to control that might flare up at any moment. He was fighting me every step of the way, if sometimes very subtly, and I recognized that somehow I was going to have to eliminate that defiance. Trouble was, with no real experience, I didn't know how. I resolved to ask Ben about it at the earliest opportunity, and headed to the music room.
The practice room is my favorite room in the house, after the 'dungeon', of course. It's got all my guitars, a bunch of Fender electrics and the four acoustics I've collected, and my recording equipment, microphones and amps. It's even got its own thermostat and humidifier, since it's bad for guitars to get too dry. I sat down to practice, running scales and then swinging into the songs we'd played on last tour. The self-discipline required to get really good, as a player, was standing me in good stead with Sebastian, but I actually almost forgot about him as I got lost in the amazing feeling of making music.
Seb must have flown through his chores, because in about an hour he was knocking lightly at the door. I called for him to come in, and he did so slowly, looking chastened and uncomfortable, his mouth pinched shut. I was pleased to see he was moving more easily in the belt and plug, though; it calmed the niggling worry I'd had that I'd started him out with something too large in that tight little behind. His gay experiences before me had been limited to blowjobs and fingering, as far as I knew; I'd never had any interest in women and had been topping for years, but Seb's ass was almost virgin when I got him.
He stood before me, still a little sulky but much more humble, and I opened his mouth, peering inside. It was just a mess, collected saliva mixing with my sperm, and his tongue was drawn way back away from the taste and sensation. I grinned at him.
"Okay, honey. Swallow now." He did, almost gagging, and sighed in relief. "Not too nice, huh?" He shook his head fervently, still not sure if he was allowed to speak, but looking at me with a question in his eyes.
"Ask away, Seb." I set the guitar aside.
"The phone rang while I was cleaning the kitchen, sir," he said eagerly. "It was Tom, he left a message on the machine, him and the guys are gonna go play hoops this afternoon at three, and want to know if I'd like to play. May I?"
I thought about it for a moment. "Kneel for me, please." He did instantly, still looking at me with expectant hope. "Can you play in the belt and plug? Without anyone knowing?"
He bit his lip, wiggled around a little, and shook his head slowly. "I don't think so. I'm too full and achey, and the belt would show through my shorts."
"Then I think you already know the answer." I rested my hand on his head.
"But...never? I can't play again ever?" He sounded shocked, and I had to laugh. My melodramatic boy.
"No, no, nothing so extreme. I'm going to explain myself to you this time, because things are still new, but don't get too used to it." He nodded, eyes wide. "We're just starting out, you and me, and still getting used to things the way they are now. I think it's important that this first week, maybe longer, is very intense. The only thing that should cross your mind when you're presented with a decision to make is, 'is it what my master wishes'? And I don't think you're there yet, do you?"
He shook his head slowly, biting that lip raw.
"You're still defiant and disobedient, aren't you?"
He nodded, even more slowly.
"Until I can trust you absolutely to behave yourself the way a slave should, in all ways, you won't be leaving my control, Seb." Said gently, but with absolute firmness. He shivered. "We're going to break down all that badness inside you, beat it out of you and shame it out of you, until I'm satisfied." He was absolutely shocked at my directness, I could tell, and started to shake.
"We have lives, baby. Outside the house. We have jobs, wonderful jobs, and great friends and basketball games and family and a lot of things we have to do. But right now, this time is just ours. We're really lucky that we have this break, so that I can train you properly before we go back to what we do. And you will be trained, Seb, whether you like it or not." I stroked his hair. "Now, on your feet and let's go get some breakfast. I'm starving."
"You tell me all this heavy stuff and then you just want to go EAT? Are you nuts?" He blurted, and I stared at him evenly, taking three breaths to calm myself as he paled, then stood, pulling him to his feet by his wrist.
"Okay, kiddo, upstairs we go."
"What? No, Lance, I didn't mean..." he just kept compounding his mistakes, dragging his feet as I pulled him out the door. "Sir, please! I'm sorry!"
"You know better than to question my orders like that, to be so disrespectful," I told him, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. "And you wanted permission to go OUT? I was hoping not to do this today, Sebastian. I'm very disappointed in you."
All the blood drained out of his face, and the fight left him in an instant. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, truly contrite, and I nodded understanding.
"Sorry doesn't make it better, honey."
He walked up the stairs on his own, if reluctantly, and unlocked the play room, stepping inside before me. There was already a light sheen of sweat on his shoulders, and his muscles were tense and shaking. I had him stand, and unlocked the belt, stripping it from him quickly and clinically. His cock, free for the first time in almost twenty four hours, sprang free and started to fill instantly.
"Spread that rubber mat on the boxspring, and then get on it. On your back, please." He did so obediently, his eyes closed tight as soon as he spread himself out, cock twitching on his belly. Quickly and efficiently, I bound him to the bed, and he moaned as he felt himself stretched out. "No matter what happens, you are NOT to come. Do you understand?"
His eyes opened a slit, and he licked his lips. "Yes sir," he said quietly, resignedly. But his cheeks were flushed with arousal and fear, the muscles in his abdomen jumping in anticipation.
There are so many ways to hurt a boy, and I'm just a novice. There are probably things I haven't even dreamed of. But staring at him spread for me, submissive and waiting, I almost couldn't make up my mind. Finally I decided on nipple clamps and whipping his cock and balls, hanging there so temptingly. To keep the element of surprise, I blindfolded him, making sure that he couldn't see a thing. He whimpered at me, and I smiled.
The first touch of the clamp almost jolted him off the bed, and that thin pained little scream was music to my ears. He hadn't started to beg yet, but his cock was jumping and jerking around, the head glistening wetly. I wondered if soon, he wouldn't be able to come at all without pain. The thought pleased me, made me even harder. I'll never tire of hurting Sebastian, though the fact that he likes it so much can present me with some interesting problems when it comes to punishing him. I teased the other nipple into hardness and snapped the clamp closed on it, and left him to adjust while I made some preparations.
I like being naked when I punish him. It's not always possible, but for structured discipline occasions like this one, it makes me feel more connected with him and heightens the sexiness of what I'm doing to him. He knows when he hears me stripping that things are going to get intense, and like Pavlov's dog, he almost starts drooling with anticipation and terror. It's the strangest thing to see. He hates being punished, works hard to avoid earning it, but when it's happening to him he's transported. He needs it so much, and I wondered again how I could have been so blind for so long.
The little whip was almost delicate in my hand, and I stroked it fondly as I approached him. "This is going to hurt a lot. You don't have to count," I told him, reaching for his cock and stroking it lightly. He moaned and thrashed his head back and forth against the bed, wordless. Holding the very tip of his hardon between my fingertips to brace it, I flicked the whip against the tight red flesh right at the base, sinking it between his cock and the soft skin of his testicles.
I'd never heard him make a sound like that before, though I've heard it many times since. Sebastian's a singer, and he's got a trained voice and strong lungs, and it was like all the air left him with the most piercing scream I've ever heard. I ignored his writhing and beat his penis methodically, working my way up and back down, never striking hard enough to mark him. I wasn't worried that he wasn't feeling it, though, because the begging had started. It's music to my ears, when he begs, especially when his words start blurring together as he loses himself in the sensation.
"pleasenomygodohsirohsirNOnonoHURTSstopfuckouchmmmnnnnnooooooooog-g-g-ggod." And then he started to sob, deep wracking sounds of pain, as his erection began to wilt. I hit him a few more times, the limp little tube jiggling under the impact, and then turned my attention to his balls.
They were drawn up tight against his body in a fear reaction, and I palmed them gently, tugging them away from his crotch with steady pressure. Stretching and tugging with one hand, I started to pinch and slap the velvety globes with my other, watching as his thigh muscles locked and spasmed, and his cock filled up again. I shook my head. "Whose balls are these?" I gave them a twisting pinch and he shrieked, before sobbing "yours, sir, yours." "Whose cock is this?" I slapped it hard, and he tried to turn himself inside out to get away. "YOURS, SIR!" "Whose slave are you?" I drove my fingers against the rim of the plug, forcing it deeper, and yanked on the chain between the nipple clamps at the same time, and he broke, going limp and trembling and pliant, his cock drooling again. "Yours, sir," he said in a harsh whisper. "Always yours."
I released him instantly. "Don't you ever forget that," I said, my voice vicious and low, and straddled his chest, dragging lightly at the chain between the clamp, little short sharp tugs, as I worked my way up his torso until I was sitting directly over his face. He was whimpering hysterically, thrashing his head back and forth, and the sensation of his face brushing against my balls and thighs was delicious. Slowly, I lowered myself, until his little nose was pressed directly into my perineum, my balls soft on his forehead, and he started panting and nosing into me like a baby on a teat. God, it felt so fucking good, his moans blowing hot breath over my sensitive skin, his shivers running through him and into me.
Reaching behind myself, bracing on my knees, I spread my own cheeks and just sat down. "Work your tongue, honey," I told him, and he paused for a long, telling moment before he obeyed, and I felt slick wet muscle slide against my asshole. Gradually I released my cheeks, and he was pushed further away. "Get in there, Sebastian. I want you to show some effort to get where you belong." He groaned wordlessly, and started pressing his face up harder against me, and I braced myself against the wall, grinding myself down on his tongue. "Oooooh," I was grunting and groaning and squirming around, I couldn't help it, he was driving me crazy, mumbling unintelligble things around his frantically thrusting and licking tongue.
Finally he yanked his head back, his nose and mouth shiny from his saliva, and whimpered "Sir, sir, I'm going to come, please sir let me come, please..."
"Absolutely not. Hold it in, Seb." He bit his lip and arched his neck, but didn't come, and gradually his shivers subsided. "Now get back in there. Your master needs to come, and it's your job to make sure it happens." I ground down on him hard, not giving a thought to his comfort, just rutting myself on his face, and like the good slave he is, he tried his hardest. Finally I could feel my balls tighten, my belly jump, and I slid back, jerking myself with hard stripping strokes until I shot all over his face, long pulses of pure pleasure that was only magnified by the way he looked with my jism coating his skin. He was almost quiet now, his face scarlet and his mouth gaping a little open, breathing raggedly. He was shocked and horrified and incredibly turned on, and that was exactly as it should be
Instead of giving him the time I usually do, I unfastened his bindings briskly, taking off the blindfold and hauling him to his feet as he blinked and staggered. He didn't even have the strength left to scream when I took off the clamps, though he moaned, low and hurting, as the tortured little nubs filled with blood again. Moving efficiently, I shoved his cock back into the tube on the belt, and he squealed as I forced the reddened, half-hard flesh down. It started to deflate instantly, and I strapped and locked him in. He was dazed, weaving as he stood, still high on endorphins and agony, his sore balls smashed flat by the tube, his sore penis encased in cold metal. I turned him, making sure everything was fastened nice and tight, and then stepped back, picking up my clothes.
"Thank you, sir," he got out blurrily. His eyes were bruised-looking, blinking rapidly.
"You're welcome, Sebastian," I told him calmly, dressing myself. "You did very well, I'm pleased. Are you going to be a good boy for the rest of the day?"
"Yes sir," he whispered, still trembling, standing spraddle-legged and weak.
"Excellent. Go wash my spunk off your face, and we'll go get some breakfast." I smiled at him, and he obeyed and followed me downstairs without another word. In fact, he was quiet and subdued for the rest of the day, and I found no reason to punish him again. Sensing his mood, I fucked him more gently than usual after his enema, his prostate so swollen I could feel it every time my cock raked over it, and spanked him only lightly before putting him to bed. He was learning. Slowly, but he was learning.
Part Eight: Days Go
My third day in the chastity belt was actually the fourth, because I'd come twice on the day that I got it, and Lance said that didn't count. I barely caught myself before screaming at him, when he told me that in his beautiful calm voice, but he saw. He knew. He used the strap on me that time, only five strokes because I'd managed to hold it in.
It was torture. My balls were so full they pressed painfully against the tube, and I was leaking precum like a faucet every time I moved, from the pressure of the plug on my overstimulated prostate. But I slowly learned to deal with it, redirecting my thoughts, ignoring the urgent sensations of arousal when Lance spanked me or beat me or fucked me, or let me suck his cock. My love for him grew every day.
My body really wasn't mine any more. I almost got used to him watching me piss and giving me enemas, embracing the humiliation and shame and pain they brought, because they knocked me a little further outside myself, into the place where Lance was my everything. I ate at his feet, and submitted to his discipline, and gradually, I could feel my temper and defiance fading. What was the point, when Lance never got mad at me, just beat me raw and then forgave me? Kicking against his demands only brought punishment, and I always ended up obeying anyway. The knot of pain in my gut got smaller every day, every time I was whipped, every time he tortured my cock and didn't let me come.
And we did other things, too, it wasn't all the whipping frame--yeah, that came, and it's the most beautiful terrible thing we've ever owned, even though we hadn't really used it yet--and nipple clamps. Even though Lance put me in girls' panties with a maxi pad inside, over my belt, going out to dinner was really cool. Well, it was cool after I recovered from standing naked in the corner for two hours as punishment for resisting the panties. We practiced a lot of music, him backing me up on guitar and praising me when I got it right. I wrote a song, more of a ballad really, in contrast to the harder rock we usually performed. It was about freedom and love, and there were tears in his gorgeous brown eyes when I sang it to him. He kissed and cuddled me for a long time after that, just making out with me and enjoying touching me, letting me touch him back. Even when things were at their worst for me, the music had always been there, and now it was just one more thing that we could share in our lives and love.
I even started to like my dog bed. Lance had told me that it was my special place, that I could go there when things got too much for me or too overwhelming, and more than once, when I was bordering on hysterics, he sent me to my bed and gave me a few minutes to calm myself.
On the morning of the fourth day, I was awake even before he was, kneeling by his bed when his alarm went off, watching him sleep. He blinked at me, then a smile tugged at his lips.
"Wow, never thought I'd see the day." He reached out and ruffled my hair, and let me kiss his fingertips. "How's my sweet boy today?"
"Excited!" I was almost bouncing. I'd made it to the fourth day, and today my belt came off. He grinned.
"I bet. C'mon, up you get." He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and I almost leaped across his thighs. Spanking was one of my favorite parts of the day, now, just us and quiet time, him hurting me a little and making me feel good and then talking about our plans or how the day had gone. I hadn't been whipped on my bottom the day before, so he gave me twenty good hard smacks, and I was writhing and moaning by the time he was done, pressing up into his hand to get more of that incredible warm pain. I was all tingly by the time he stopped, and then got the shock of my life when I felt the strap pulling tight between my cheeks again.
"But sir," I whined, twisting. "Today's the fourth day! You said!"
"Today's the third full day, honey," he said calmly. "It comes off tonight. Hold on a little longer, okay?"
"Yes sir," I sighed, completely aware of the futility of protest. He squeezed my bottom approvingly, and then pet me for a bit.
"I was thinking we could have a field trip today, back to the shop to see Ben. I've been in touch with him over the phone, he's a great guy and he's been a lot of help. What do you think?"
"Can we get some more toys?" I wasn't sure about Ben, but I did like the store.
"Sure." He laughed. "We haven't even had a chance to use all the ones we've got, though!"
"I know, but now we know better what we like." I clenched my stomach and levered up a little, looking at him over my shoulder.
"That's very true. We need to talk about manners, though, if we're going to see someone in the scene." I got serious, fast. I had the idea that a lot of the stuff we did was pretty off-the-cuff, and had the vague impression that there were much more formal and more strict rules out there. "He's invited us to the store to meet him and his slave, and told me how you'll be expected to behave. You will not speak unless addressed directly, for one thing."
"Uh-oh." That was very hard for me.
"I'll bring a gag, in case you get in trouble." I frowned at the floor. I hated the gags, they made me feel like a non-person. I'm a singer: without my voice I am nothing at all. "I know you don't like it, but that's tough. It'll be like practice for the days when I'll keep you gagged all the time." I groaned, and he swatted me lightly. "More rules. You'll be belted, cuffed and leashed, and Sebastian, you'd better be on your absolute best behavior. I won't tolerate you embarrassing me in front of Ben." There was clear warning in his voice.
"Yes sir. I'll do my best, sir."
"You'll do better than your best. The last thing is, he's a master, and you're a slave. If he wishes to touch you or hurt you, he'll ask my permission, and I may give it. Do you understand?"
"Sir!" I recoiled in horror, mind unable to accept it.
"And you will not only submit gracefully, you will thank him for his attention and obey him as if he were me." His voice was implacable. "This is not up for discussion."
I could feel my eyes fill with tears. I'd been so sure he loved me, and now he was going to let someone else use me and hurt me and do the special things we did together...it felt like my heart was being squeezed by a vise.
"Tell me what you're thinking, Sebastian."
"I'm sorry, sir," I sobbed. "I just...I thought you loved me...I thought I was special..."
"Oh, baby." I was pulled off his lap and into his arms, which closed around me warm and tight as I cried into his shoulder. "I love you more than life itself. You're the most special boy in the world. Ben can see that, and will do what he does because he knows, as well as I do, that you need it and want it. But your body's mine to do with as I see fit, and if I choose to let Ben play with it, that's my decision. You are always a slave, not just with me. It doesn't mean I love you any less."
"W-will he fuck me?"
"I haven't decided yet. I think I might like to keep your little hole for my private use for the time being." I smiled at him for that, and he tweaked my nose. "Shower, shit and shave time, Seb. You're going to be clean as a whistle inside and out before we go." Good mood restored, I followed him to the bathroom.
The anticipation was pure torture as he stripped me, then shaved me neck-to-toe and fucked me with the enema tube, all without my belt on, and not permitted to come. It was a REALLY close thing, a couple of times, and he had to be pretty sharp with me to bring my mind back to attention. It was easier when I was polishing the metal of my belt and cleaning my plug extra-carefully, and then he was merciful and locked me back in. I didn't know what he'd do to me for ejaculating so close to the end of my chastity, but I was damned sure I didn't want to find out.
Getting dressed for this was even more exciting. Lance put me in my fancy collar and cuffs, the solid silver ones that I'd picked out for myself, lined my eyes with the black stuff we use on stage, and snapped a long chain leash to the clip of the collar. Then he stood me in front of the full-length mirror, smiling hugely.
"Wow." I stared at my reflection. I was completely hairless, and my skin was utterly white, except for a few fading red streaks from where the lash had curled around my legs the last time I'd been bad. The belt was cruelly bright, silver and black, framing my chastely flat crotch with metal and neoprene and leather. My body was slim and boyish, standing tall and proud and easy. The collar and cuffs gleamed on my wists and ankles and throat, and my eyes looked huge and really blue. "I look...so pretty, like this." I'd known I was hot before, a million groupies couldn't be wrong, but this was an entirely different feeling.
"Most gorgeous thing I've ever seen," Lance said softly, and my eyes followed the line of the reflected leash to where he was holding the end, looking so proud and happy. I made a little needy sound and stepped towards him, and he swept me into a huge hug, rocking me back and forth. "You are my precious boy, forever," he whispered in my ear, and I clung to him desperately, overwhelmed by love and humility and pride in my slavehood.
After a while he let go and wiped my cheeks gently, and led me to the bedroom, where I knelt quietly and watched him dress. Snug black pants and a tight black tank top, leather belt and boots and a black shirt to go over it all. It suddenly struck me that he was dressed for action, and I felt the first lick of fear. My panties and pad went back on--Lance laughed and said I was a messy boy, and he didn't want me staining his upholstery if I got too excited. I got loose jeans and a white longsleeved turtleneck sweater, which hid everything nicely, and it gave me a shiver to know that I could walk down the street like this and no one would know that underneath I was bound in cold metal.
He let me drive, which was really cool because I hadn't in a week, and only scolded me once for going too fast. I think I got us there in record time, and parked in the little lot behind the store.
"We're going in the back, even though the place is officially closed today," he told me, and I squirmed with excitement, following him eagerly as he opened the door into a small hallway, with hooks on the wall. He locked the door behind him, and when he turned to me there was no trace of the friendly lover. This was my Master, and I went down to my knees instantly, belly quaking.
"Good boy. In a moment we're going to meet another master and slave for the first time. Remember that your behavior reflects on me. Do not make me ashamed of you, Sebastian."
"Yes sir," I whispered quietly.
"Now stand up, and strip yourself. Hang your clothes neatly." I obeyed him instantly. There was something much more serious about him now that demanded my complete submission. I was definitely trembling, but determined to stay strong. After all, Lance had been training me for five days, now, and he hadn't made me use my safeword. I had no idea then that he'd been bringing me along very slowly and lovingly, but I was about to learn. I stood bare and shivering, feet on the cold floor, and jumped a little when he snapped the leash to my collar again. "Heel," he commanded quietly, and I did.
"Lance!" The door at the end of the hallway flew open, and Ben stepped out, hand extended to Lance, a big smile on his face and bulging muscles and tattoos displayed by his leather vest. They shook, and slapped each others' shoulders. "I'm so glad you could come. And how is this young man today?" He looked at me kindly, but I could see his eyes heat slowly as he took in my bondage and gear.
"He's well, thanks," Lance answered, before I could make a mistake and speak.
"It's a definite improvement over his last visit," Ben chuckled. "Chastity suits him. It's always nice to see our merchandise displayed on such a pretty canvas." He gestured us in, and I followed Lance meekly, blushing from the compliment. The room was brightly lit and had a stone floor, and had so much bondage gear and equipment in it that it almost looked like the room in the store. Standing nude in the center of the room, facing us, was a boy. No older than me, for sure, slender and pale and shaved bare, with close-cropped blond hair and blue eyes. His hands were cuffed behind him, but other than that he wasn't wearing anything but a cruel-looking binding on his seven inch penis. It was red and swollen, the leather straps biting into it, but he looked calm and composed.
"Lance, this is Corey," Ben said, and there was unmistakeable pride in his voice. "He's been with me for almost two years now. Corey, greet Master Lance properly."
Corey walked to a place in front of Lance, kneeled gracefully, and pressed his lips to the top of Lance's shoe, all without a word. Lance smiled down at him as I gaped, and stroked his head. "Hello, Corey. It's wonderful to meet you." Corey ducked his chin, backed away, and returned to his place, in complete silence.
"Corey's not allowed to speak at the moment," Ben explained. "He's got a busy little mouth that needs controlling. Corey, Master Lance's slave is named Sebastian. Say hello."
Corey looked right into my eyes and grinned, nodding at me. I nodded back dumbly.
"I apologize for not having Sebastian greet you correctly when we arrived," Lance was saying, "but we haven't gotten that far in our training yet."
"Oh, the wild and wooly early days," Ben nodded understandingly. "When it's all you can do to keep them in their belt and on their knees, much less teaching them actual manners." I bristled a little at that. I had manners! Lance yanked my leash sharply, and I settled down.
"You know it. Seb is just ridiculous sometimes. I hardly know what to beat him for first." The masters exchanged commiserating grins, and then Ben gestured to a bolt in the floor.
"If you'd like to tie your boy, we can go get some coffee and you can tell me all about it. Don't worry about leaving them, we'll be able to hear if they need us." He handed Lance a chain about two feet long, with a snap at either end. "Use this, it'll keep him from roaming around." Lance took it with thanks, and led me to the restraining bolt.
"Sit, Seb." I couldn't believe it. He was tying me up like a dog? I opened my mouth to protest, but then got a good look at his eyes, snapped it shut instantly, and went down on my haunches, feeling the bite of the plug deep inside. I jumped a little as the chain snapped closed, and Lance patted my head. "We'll be back later. Ben, may Sebastian speak to Corey? I'm hoping he'll be a good influence."
"Of course. And Corey, you may speak as well, since it's just another slave." He gave Corey's bound cock a fond little pat, and the door closed behind them.
I felt abandoned and lost and scared and the minute they were gone I started fighting the chain, bracing my hands againt the floor and throwing all my weight back against it. Tug tug tug, and I was grunting with effort, needing to react somehow to everything that was going on.
"That won't work, you know. I'd save my energy if I was you. My master was very excited when he heard you were coming." It was a quiet and well-modulated voice, and I looked up to see Corey watching me curiously. I sighed, and relaxed, trying to get comfortable on the stone floor. Finally I ended up in a semi-crouch, with my hands on the floor. It didn't escape me that this was a very doglike position. I squirmed at the arousal low in my gut.
"That's better, isn't it?" I nodded reluctantly. "You're really pretty, you know," he went on, smiling now. "I can understand why my master likes you."
"I belong to my master," I grumbled, shifting my weight to keep my legs from cramping.
"You belong to every master, really," Corey corrected me gently. "Oh, yours first and always, and isn't it wonderful? But really, once you discover that you're a slave, all masters are your masters, if your master wants them to be."
"Mine is pretty wonderful." I looked at him carefully for the first time. "Doesn't that hurt?"
"Yes," he said simply. "My master loves me enough to allow me to please him by enduring pain."
"You mean, you don't like it yourself?" I knew how horny pain made me.
"Not really," he made a little face. "It hurts, it doesn't turn me on. Not much, anyway. But it's the will of my master that I be hurt and punished, so of course it's perfect."
I shook my head. "Why on earth would you do that, if it's not doing anything for you?"
"Oh, you ARE new," he laughed, a bright cheerful sound that seemed out of place in this room of torture and pain. "What I like doesn't matter. My master's pleasure and happiness is the only important thing in my life. You'll understand someday."
I'd only hit the edges of this kind of, I dunno, complete passiveness and it staggered me to hear that. But inspired me, too, because he was clearly a happy guy. In fact, he almost glowed, and there was a grace and pride about him that I found myself envying a lot. Corey got true joy out of submitting himself completely, and I knew I wasn't there yet. Already Lance's pleasure was light-years more important to me than my own; it scared me to think that someday mine wouldn't matter at all. And yet, it seemed like such an amazing freedom to have.
I was still sitting there contemplating when the masters came back, talking easily and laughing. I watched them carefully, and they approached me, walking around me and studying me from all angles. I cringed a little under their eyes.
"I see what you mean," Ben said. "He's still got a lot of pride, doesn't he? He's not even close to true obedience yet. But don't worry, you'll get there. And he'll be a better man for it."
"I know," Lance said, touching my head. "And I'm willing to take all the time he needs."
"Good man." Ben leaned down and patted my rump. "Now, what do you say we play with Corey for a little while. Sebastian here can watch and learn, and then we'll give him a bit of attention too."
"I'd be honored," Lance answered, and Ben walked over and put an arm around Corey. Ben's at least 6'2" and must weigh well over 250, and Corey's this pretty little thing, maybe 5'7", less than half Ben's weight. He almost disappeared against his master. But he looked up with this naked adoration in his eyes, and I couldn't look away.
"I think we'll give Corey a real working over," he said with evil good cheer. "It's been a few weeks, and I find it's good for the soul. Isn't that right, slave?"
Corey nodded tranquilly, though I noticed he'd gone much paler even than he'd started. It was good to see he wasn't a total iceman, and I strarted to get really curious. I'd never seen anyone else being disciplined before, and frankly, when it was my skin under the lash, my mind was occupied with more pressing matters than how I or anyone else looked. But now I could see the hot eagerness in Lance's eyes and body, the way his pants were tenting out. The little tremors of Corey's skin as Ben led him to something shaped like a big X and tied his wrists and ankles to it, then blindfolded him, utterly pliant and unresisting, though he gasped when Ben smacked his bottom.
"Tell us your safeword, slave," Ben said in an iron tone, and Corey sighed.
"Velvet, sirs."
"I'll warm him up for you, Lance, and then you can finish him off. Please make sure your boy is attentive, I'd hate for all this suffering to go to waste."
"Eyes up, Seb," Lance said, his voice thick and warm with arousal. I couldn't have looked away at gunpoint, by then.
"Okay, here we go." Ben shook out a 5' whip that had been coiled on the wall. It was vicious looking, round leather tapering to a slender lash at the end. "It takes a little practice to use one of these, but there's nothing more effective for a nice long session," he told Lance conversationally, and without another word he raised his arm, and with what looked like the entire force of those massive muscles, brought the whip down across the small of Corey's back. It sounded like a gunshot. Corey was frozen for a split second, and then he screamed, his whole body arching out in a rictus of pain, and the second blow sent him slamming back into the X. I could only imagine what that was doing to his poor cock. My belly got heavy with blood trying to make its way down to my cock, I could feel the heat and tension spreading from my groin out through my legs and body, and started humping the air unconsciously. Ben beat him mercilessly, each stroke leaving a livid red mark somewhere between his shoulders and knees, falling in staggered rhythm so that he never knew when or where the next one would come. And it went on and on and on. Corey was reduced to broken moans by the time Ben stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow and coiling the whip, and I finally looked at Lance, the echoes of screams humming in my ears.
He'd gotten a cat off the wall, and was swishing it idly against his leg, but even through his iron control I could see his eagerness. He kept licking his lips as he stared at Corey.
"I'd like him to use his safeword, if you don't mind," Ben said, still cheerful. "Give it to him good. You told me you've been holding back with Sebastian, it'll be a treat for you to really let go."
"Thank you so much for the chance," Lance said, and stepped up to that striped, shivering body. I ached for Corey, I wanted to be Corey, I wanted to be miles from here, I wanted to be hard. I was shaking.
Lance administering a beating is a thing of beauty, one I don't get to see often enough. He's totally controlled and focused, laying his tool down with precision and force and cruelty. His smooth muscles flex and glow with sweat, and I started panting. Corey was almost silent now, his head hanging and fingers twitching, until Lance hauled back the whip and CRACK! Slammed a blow into his butt that sent his body leaping against the frame, and his head snapped up and he screamed "VELVETvelvetvelvetohgodvelvet..." Trailing down to a whisper as everything stopped.
With amazing tenderness, Lance and Ben took him off the frame and laid him on his belly on a bench, his body convulsing, and Ben stroked his hair and whispered softly and lovingly to him for a few moments. Gradually he calmed, and Ben patted him one more time and joined Lance at my side. They were both hard, glistening with sweat, and I huddled down and pressed myself to the floor, more terrified than I'd ever been in my life.
"He's not ready for that, I don't think," Lance told Ben calmly, looking down at me. Ben chuckled.
"I think you'd be surprised at what he's ready for, but I'll respect your decision, of course. Since you told me he's still having trouble concentrating on you alone, why don't you take this one? I'll advise, with your permission."
"I'd be grateful," Lance nodded, and unclipped my chain. I was stiff from being crouched for so long, and he let me stretch a little, my trembling muscles hindering the process.
"You'll want to get that belt off him, so you have a clean slate, so to speak. You mentioned he's a masochist, is he likely to come without permission?"
"Yeah." Lance frowned, looking at me. "Hurt him and he turns into a hormonal little fucktoy. To a point, of course, but I think he'd probably come before we got there."
"I have just the thing." He rummaged in a drawer and came up with a small device that looked like a cage attached to a ring. "He won't even be able to get hard in this, and it's self-contained. Let's see if it fits, I've got a few in here, Corey's done some growing since I got him."
I stood mute and paralyzed as they unlocked my belt, shaking with excitement. Oh, they were going to hurt me so good. They were handling my penis and balls like they were just meat. The ring went around both, TIGHT, and my cock slipped into the cage easily; I was far too scared to get hard. Suddenly, something occured to me, and I looked at Lance in urgent question.
"You can ask, Sebastian."
"Sir," my throat was dry, and I cleared it nervously. "Sirs, I haven't been bad today. What am I being punished for?"
Ben looked at Lance in surprise. "I can take this one, if you want." Lance nodded.
"Your master's only been punishing you when you misbehave, I suppose. You're very fortunate to have found someone so kind. You do not need to be bad to be punished, Sebastian; your master may discipline you whenever he likes, for any reason or no reason at all. That's his duty and priviledge, and his gift to you. Do you understand?"
Suddenly lightheaded, I nodded. "Yes sir. Thank you, sir."
"No problem, Sebastian." He reached out and ran a rough unfamiliar hand down my chest, tweaking my nipples hard and then stepping back with a nasty smirk when I cringed. Lance led me to the frame. I was blindfolded and locked in in a daze, not even paying attention to what was going on with me until Lance kissed the back of my neck, stroked my back, and whispered,
"Be strong, sweetie." Then I shook my head and started paying attention, twisting my head against the blindness, flexing my muscles.
"Why don't you tell me some of the problems you've been having with him? It'll help me advise you. Let him sit there for a little while, we're in no hurry." I could have argued with that. The anticipation was worse than the beatings, almost.
"Well, you know he's a masochist, he loves pain and craves it and needs it. But he protests his punishments sometimes, he struggles and kicks and begs not to be beaten, even though he knows it won't help him, and it'll actually make things worse. I've had to drag him to his restraints more than once. And it takes him DAYS to relax into any new humiliation." I flushed with shame at the wry annoyance in Lance's voice.
Ben's rich chuckle filled the room. "That's just pure boy contrariness. What you've got is a masochist who's still fighting against obedience and submission. He wants the pain but doesn't want to give up control, doesn't know he needs it as much as he needs the pain. Oh, he's submissive all right, he just hasn't accepted it yet. You've got a pushy little bottom on your hands, but that'll just make it all the sweeter when he breaks." He must have pulled Lance a little further away then, because all I could hear was the low hum of his voice, as much as I strained to hear the words. And then Lance's louder reply.
"Hmmm." That thoughtful hum never meant good things for me, and my brain was already buzzing, wondering what Ben had said. "I think you're right. I'll have to think about that."
"Make sure you punish defiance more harshly than anything else," Ben warned, and I shivered. "Zero tolerance is the only way to go."
"We've already taken some steps in that direction," Lance answered. Some steps? I hadn't been aware there were any steps past what he was already doing to me!
"Well, the great thing is, he's yours. You've got time, he's got incredible potential, you're already well on your way. He's come far just since the last time I saw you. You're doing well with him, Lance."
"Thank you." There was real pleasure and pride in Lance's voice, and I resolved then and there to be a better boy for him. "Seb, tell us your safeword, please."
"Songbird," I muttered, and Ben laughed.
"How appropriate. Whenever you're ready, Master Lance."
You think you're ready, you think you know what's coming, but every time it's new and different and shocking. If there's one thing I've learned from slavery, it's that. The first time that lash slammed into my skin, I knew I was in for it; I'd never been hit so hard, and it actually took a moment for the pain to reach my brain. My cock tried to fill, only to be cruelly pinched by the little cage, my head tipped back, and I HOWLED.
I still don't know how many times I was hit that day. After thirty it all just fell away, and I was drifting in a sea of black and red and endorphins, every stroke shocking me back into my agonized body for an instant, hearing Ben's low voice, Lance's answers, and then I'd fade again. It was the most intense, slow, steady beating of my life to that point, and I'll never forget it. I reached a point where my master, and the whip, and my body, were the only things that existed. The final stroke, the one that broke me, was in the crease between my bottom and thighs, a place that Lance had already hit many times, and "songbird." It felt like a quiet sigh leaving my lips, though Lance told me later that I'd screamed it for all the world to hear.
Everything went quiet, and I was hanging alone in darkness, my body one giant screaming nerve ending, my soul at peace. Soft hands unlocked my restraints and undid my blindfold, and I was lifted down to my feet, blinking against the sudden inrush of the world. Ben was watching us, casually fucking in and out of Corey's slim small body, spread over a table, with the hugest cock I'd ever seen. It didn't even make an impression, it was like watching pictures projected on a wall. Lance held me up, or I would have crumpled to the floor.
"Walk him around a little," Ben advised, never breaking rhythm, ignoring the little squeals of pain from his slave. I was entirely wrung out and empty, and didn't even realize I was sobbing until Lance wiped my face. He forced me to walk, a long circuit of the room, stumbling often and slowly, slowly getting my brain back together, returning to the real world. It got easier as blood started flowing to my muscles again. I was exhausted, suddenly, and felt like I could sleep for a week, but the pain spiking all over my back and bottom and thighs was more than enough to keep me awake. I felt intensely alive, and very calm.
"Let's get you back in your belt, sweetie, and then we can go home and you can nap there." Lance's voice was like oil on my burning skin, soothing me down, even as he released me from the little cage and put my belt back on me. "How are you doing?"
I shook my head. I couldn't remember how to talk.
"Use your voice, Sebastian. Tell me."
"Ouch, sir," I finally got out, hoarsely, and he laughed, kissing me lightly.
"You got half as many strokes as Corey over there, and less hard. We're gonna have to work on that pain tolerance of yours." I started to shake violently, head swimming at the thought of anything more, and he instantly pulled me close. "We'll worry about that later. You did well, my slave. I'm proud of you." I sighed and let him support me, strong and solid and steady.
"You can fuck him here, if you like," Ben offered. Corey was whining now, a constant high thread of sound that didn't sound like it was coming from a human, as Ben pounded his insides to mush with that massive cock. I could see the slave twitching and drooling a little, his eyes half-open and his face almost blank with agony. Yet he wasn't restrained, and he wasn't fighting. I had a feeling this wasn't an unusual position for him to find himself in. Ben looked comfortable and calm, like he could keep going for hours, and my heart went out to Corey in that moment. Yet I found myself a little jealous, too. What must that have felt like? "Or maybe you'd like a turn on Corey?"
"Thanks, but I think we'd better be getting back home. We'll come back for a shopping trip soon, and to visit again. This has been wonderful, Ben, I can't thank you enough." He was talking to our host like he wasn't naked and fucking an agonized boy, and I wondered again at his calm.
"Lance, it's my pleasure." Ben pulled out of Corey abruptly, leaving him sprawled motionless on the table, and walked to us, his eleven inch cock bobbing stiff between massive hairy thighs, smeared with streaks of what could have been blood. Lance shook his hand, and I stepped closer to my master, needing his strength. "Sebastian, you're a lovely tender piece of meat, and I hope to see you often." There was an evil twinkle in his eyes, and I nodded, struck mute by fear.
"Thank Master Ben for helping us," Lance prodded gently, and I gasped and bent my head.
"Thank you, sir, for all your help."
"It was my pleasure, boy. Lance, don't hesitate to call if you need anything."
"I will. Thanks again." As Lance snapped my leash on and led me out the door, I turned back to see Ben stepping around behind Corey again, and I heard Corey scream shrilly just before the soundproof door swung closed.
"He'll be okay, you know," Lance said gently, watching as I struggled into my clothes infinitely slowly. "Corey, I mean. Ben loves him, and would never do anything that would truly harm him."
"I know, sir. But he's HUGE, and Corey's so little, and I...it's a little scary."
"This is Corey's life, baby. Just like it is yours. He loves it like you do, and he wouldn't change a thing about it." He helped me into my sweater, forcing it down as I gasped and tears poured from my eyes. "I think I'd better drive home, huh?" He was smiling, and his eyes were twinkling, and even through my exhaustion and the pain wracking through my body in long hot waves, I had to smile back.
[end part 8]