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Victim turned Master: Chapter 1 by Dominick Wilson
It was all a setup and I wasn't supposed to know about it. At first I didn't, but then I found out. Here is the story of how I went from victim to Master over night...
First off, my name is Nick. I'm 5'11", with a shaved head and goatee, blue eyes, fit body, and a cock that was about 8" long and very very thick. I've been told I'm fairly good looking, but I've never believed it. I've been divorced for about 2 years and the sex action wasn't very good for me lately. I really didn't have the cash to go out much, and to be honest, I hated the bar scene. Partially because of the concentration of smoke, which I hate, but mostly because you just don't know what kind of diseased skanks you might find there and that kinda scared me off. The local porn shop had booths to go and enjoy yourself, and I'd visited them once or twice, but you never found any ladies there, just fags wanting to blow you and get you to blow them. I just wasn't into that. So most of my "fun" came in the form of my hand and tv porn. But all that changed overnight. Hell, to be honest, it all changed in less than one hour.
I was visiting my best friend Chris one evening. He had a pool table and he and I enjoyed playing. He was much better than I was, easily beating me most of the time, but it was still fun. You know what they say, you will never get better at something unless you play someone that is better than you are. So while I was improving my game by learning from him, his game was getting no better. So there we are, enjoying some beer and a pool game, when the doorbell rings. Chris heads off to the front door to answer it while I look over the table to find my next shot. From the front room, I hear Chris say "What the fuck!" and before I can really do more than just wonder what is going on, in walks Chris with his hands above his head. Behind him is a large man wearing one of those ski masks with only the eyes and mouth cut out pointing a gun at Chris' back.
"Chris, what the fuck is going on?" The intruder looks over at me and tells me to shut the fuck up.
"You both will do exactly as you're told or you'll find yourself dying from lead poisoning. You, get over there." and he shoves Chris in my direction. Chris kind of resists a bit but after getting shoved again, comes over to my location near the pool table. "Don't get any bright ideas bitch, I know how to use this gun and since we are out in the country, a gunshot won't really be noticed. So be good little bitches and follow directions and I won't be forced to shoot you!"
I really didn't like the idea of being called a "bitch" but when you have a gun pointed at you, your first reaction isn't to get mouthy.
"Step away from the pool table and leave the sticks there." the intruder orders. I lay my cue down and we both follow directions and now we're standing somewhat in the middle of an open area of the room. As we move away from the table, he moves toward it. He looks at the table for a moment and then looks directly at us again. "Take off your shoes and socks."
I decide to get a little risky and ask "Why?" with a little belligerence in my voice. I was scared, but I was angry as well.
"Because I said so bitch. If you two get any fancy ideas about trying to escape to the great outdoors, you are going to have one hell of a time running on rocky ground in bare feet." We looked at each other briefly, then I shrugged and we both got busy taking off our shoes and socks. "Now then, toss those shoes over by the fireplace" he orders and we both toss them in that direction. One of my shoes actually goes into the fireplace, but thankfully, there is no fire burning right now. "Now, toss me your wallets."
Little does the intruder know that this doesn't bother me at all. I keep a wallet with a bit of cash and no credit cards in my pocket only as a decoy in case I might get mugged. My real cash stash is in my front pocket in a money clip. When you don't have a lot of money to toss around, you tend to do odd things like that. Or at least, that's what I do. When my friends found out that I have a "decoy" wallet, they laughed at me, including Chris. I'm betting that right now he's feeling pretty stupid at having laughed at me and my decoy wallet.
So my wallet only has enough money in it to look good. I haul it out and toss it over to the intruder. Chris does the same with his. The intruder picks them up off the carpet and sets them on the table. He swings a backpack off his back and sets it on the table as well. I'm actually a little surprised, because I hadn't noticed that he was carrying one. I guess in my current state of mind, I wasn't being all that observant and that's not like me. If we were going to catch this asshole after he leaves, I was going to have to pay a lot more attention to details than I was currently doing. Of course, I was assuming that we were going to be alive after all was said and done.
I start gathering data: our thief is loosely about our height, solid build with good sized arms and no gut, so that could mean that he works out regularly. He's not dressed in clothes that are expensive, but they aren't shabby either. Perhaps he intends to just dispose of them after he leaves so he can't be tied to them later. The shoes though, they look a bit more expensive, doubtful that he would toss them, so I make more mental notes about the brand, etc. I can't really get a good idea of the size of his feet, but I don't think that they are nearly the same size as my own, which are thirteens (yeah, my hands are big too). Perhaps they are a size ten or eleven. Another item that needs attention is the thief's gun. Pure sanity says that he won't get rid of that item either, so I note as much about it as I can. It looks to be a 9mm automatic, perhaps a 45. I take a really good look at it so I can find it later using pictures. My inspection of his gun is interrrupted as he bends over and picks up our wallet.
The thief then opens the front pocket of the backpack. He opens Chris' wallet and pulls out a wad of cash. Christ, I know that Chris tends to have more disposable money than I do, but there has to be at least $500 dollars in it. I look over at Chris and he doesn't seem all that upset as he watches his cash going into the backpack. Under the circumstances, I really don't pick up on the significance of it.
Now my wallet is picked up and when the thief opens it, he removes about $20 in small bills. There are enough ones in there to help pad it out and make it look more substantial than it really is.
"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me" the intruder exclaims. "Whose wallet is this?" he yells over at us.
"Mine", I answer back at him.
"This just ain't gonna do. Take off your watches and toss them over as well." That really pisses me off. My watch might not be a Rolex, but it's a nice diving watch that cost a few hundred dollars and I won't be able to replace it anytime soon. Not that I've been diving since the divorce, but that's not the point right now.
"Now just one fucking minute..." I blurt out, but I'm cut off before I can continue.
"If you would rather I shoot your ass dead and then take it, we can do that instead" he yells back at me. Well, I can't really argue with that kind of logic, so I take it off and toss it over with Chris' watch. He picks my watch up, looks at it and says "You were willing to die for this piece of crap? You really are a lame motherfucker, aren't you?"
"You and I both know that that watch is worth a few hundred dollars, so don't try to convince me that it's a 'piece of crap'." I defiantly shout back at him, which pisses him off even more.
"Well, well... we seem to have a really tough guy here, huh? Either that or a really stupid one." He's talking kinda softly now in that scary kind of voice. You know the one, the type of voice that telegraphs just how crazy of a person you're dealing with. "Tell you what tough guy, I think that you're holding out on me. I think that you have more to give me. I think that both of you have more to offer me. Take off your pants and throw them over to me.
Up to this point, Chris has been silent, but now he pipes up. "What the fuck do you want with our pants?"
Our thief looks at Chris and takes a more aggressive stance. "Well, for starters, it'll keep the blood off of them when I shoot you for being stupid. How about that for a good reason?"
"How about I just empty the pockets and toss the contents over to you?" quips Chris in response. I look at him and whisper, "What the fuck are you doing? You trying to get us killed?"
"I just don't want to take my pants off, that's all" he whispers back.
"Hello!" says the thief to us. "It's not like I can't hear what you're saying. Rich boy, you better take 'em off right now and toss them over or your friend will pay for your stupidity!" And with that, he points the gun directly at me. Chris looks at me and then unbuckles his belt and begins removing his pants. As he lowers them, I understand why he was so reluctant to do it - he's going commando. No underpants at all. I've seen plenty of pornos before and thus I've seen other cocks besides my own, but never in person. As thus, I've never seen his cock before, so I have no previous baseline for comparison, but I'd swear that he was getting just a bit of a chubby at that point. He rolls his pants in a ball and tosses them over to the thief.
With a bit of humor in his voice, the thief takes a long good look at Chris and says, "Well, well. I'm guessing that you weren't expecting to have to strip off, huh?" He then looks at me and tells me, "Okay tough guy, now it's your turn to give us a strip show."
I really don't want to do this, not because I'm not wearing skivvies, but because I have some more money in my front pocket in my money clip and I really can't afford to lose that. But then again, I really can't afford to lose my life either. So with resignation, I unbuckle, remove my pants, and toss them over.
"Smart move. Now both of you get down on your knees. I need to look through the pockets and I don't need one of you 'heroes' getting any ideas on rushing me while I'm doing that." And with that, we both sink to our knees. "Now place your hands behind your heads and if you move a muscle, I'll shoot first and leave your dead bodies behind after I ransack the house."
We comply and he then reaches down and gets Chris' pants. After searching them and not finding anything else of value, he tosses them behind him and picks up my jeans. Once he finds my money clip, he looks at me and says "so, you were holding out on me, huh. Not nice, not nice at all. That little move will cost you plenty. Now then, both of you, strip off all your clothes now!"
I'm more than a little scared now, because he sounds really pissed and pissed off people can do some really bad things, especially when they have a gun. So I slowly remove my shirt and struggle to remove my underwear, as I'm still kneeling. Chris is holding his shirt in front of him, trying to hide his cock.
"Toss those clothes over with your shoes." he barks out. The clothes join our shoes and when I turn back, I look at Chris and he's definitely sporting the beginning of some serious wood. I'm wondering about that a little, it's not like that's the typical response to this situation, is it? It certainly isn't the response I'm having. My reverie is interrupted by something metallic hitting the carpet near us. I look and it's a pair of handcuffs.
"Okay rich boy, pick up the cuffs and use 'em on your friend there. And if you have any ideas otherwise, you better make sure they are on tight, 'cause if they happen to 'accidentally' come off, your friend is going to be quite dead." Chris reaches down, picks up the cuffs, gets up and steps behind me. I look at the intruder with a bit of fright and lot of hate and after a moment, I place my hands behind my back. Chris locks the cuffs on and true to the directions given, he makes sure they are secure. At least he's not being stupid and putting my life in any additional danger.
"Okay tough guy, here's what's going to happen. Your rich friend has been fairly cooperative, while you have been a basic pain in the ass. Since you held out on me, you are going to get punished and he is going to get rewarded. Both of you will follow my every instruction without hesitation and without resistance. And make no mistakes, failure to follow my instructions will be quite fatal. You give me any lip, and I will bust a cap in your ass. Comprende?"
I nodded my head. With Chris still behind me, I assumed he nodded as well. The gunman now yelled, "I said, do you understand?" With the threat of what would happen if we didn't cooperate still hanging in the air, we both quickly said "Yes".
"Yes, what?" screamed the thief.
I paused a moment searching for what he might mean, and with a bit of a question in my voice, I replied "Yes, Sir?"
"That's right bitch, you both call me Sir when you answer me", at which point Chris replies, "Yes, Sir".
"You, rich boy! Go over there and get that footstool and bring it back here. And if you get any ideas about running away, just remember, your friend here is kneeling with his hands cuffed behind his back and quite vulnerable to a bullet."
I watch Chris walk slowly across to where the chair and ottoman was, and pick the ottoman up. He returns with it and stands there holding it. The thief reaches into his backpack and pulls out something wooden and tosses it toward us. As it lands, I recognized it as a miniature version of a frat paddle, complete with holes drilled in it. I started to get really worried at that point. I was the one that was going to be 'punished' and it certainly looked as though it was going to be a "frat style paddling".
Recognizing the look on my face, the intruder smiles and says "that's right tough guy, you're about to experience a spanking like you've never received. Or have you ever received a spanking with a paddle like this?"
My mouth was suddenly dry, but I managed to squeak out, "No sir, it would by my first".
"Well then, perhaps tonight will be a series of 'firsts' for you..." the thief said cryptically. To Chris, he said, "Put the footstool in front of him and help him lay forward on it."
As Chris placed the ottoman in front of me, he placed one hand on my chest and one on my back and as he helped lower me down, he whispered ever so lightly, "I'm sorry 'bout this Nick". So there I was, ass up in the air, hands cuffed behind me and waiting for a spanking from my best friend.
Any chance that Chris would take it easy on me was immediately removed with a statement from our tormentor. "If I sense that you are holding back on your blows even slightly rich boy, you'll be next and it'll be ME that paddles you!" Chris reached out and picked up the paddle and tested it for heft. My neck was getting tired of holding my head up, and I was forced to let it just hang down and rest.
With a teasing lilt to his voice, the thief says, "Okay 'Spanky', I expect that you will be keeping an accurate count and will thank your friend for each and every swat, right?"
I hesitated only briefly before answering "Yes Sir".
"So, the only thing left to decide is how many times you will get to enjoy the paddle. Did you have any ideas on how to decide that, Spanky?"
"How about twenty Sir?" I replied with a bit of hope in my voice.
"Hmm, twenty. Okay, we'll make it twenty..." and after a slight pause he adds "IF you can give me a good reason on why you came up with that particular number..."
I knew at that point that I was screwed. I chose that number simply because it sounded like a good number, but wasn't too many to endure. But I had to come up with a good reason, so thinking quickly, I said "because that is the number of dollars that I have in my wallet."
"Really, let's just see if that is true." he said with a challenge in his voice. I heard some rustling of paper and knew that he was counting the money in my wallet. "Sorry Spanky, you only have 19 dollars in your wallet. You lose. So now I get to decide how many. And since you went with money to decide how many swats you'd get, how about we go instead with the amount of money that you kept from me in your front pocket?" There was a moment of silence and then he barked out "I asked you a question bitch, answer me!"
I knew that I was in for quite a brutal punishment, but I had no choice in the matter. So I answered "If that's what you wish Sir."
"You bet your soon-to-be-bruised ass that's what I wish" he said, "Let's just see how many that adds up to." And there was more rustling as he counted up what was in my clip. "Oh ho, lookie here, two twenties, a ten and seven ones. That adds up to 57. That sound about right Spanky?"
"Yes Sir, that sounds right."
"Okay rich boy, you heard the man. The number is 57. Get cracking!" As Chris moved into position to spank me, our tormentor sounded a bit gleeful as he said "now remember Spanky, count 'em out loud and thank your friend for each of them. Oh yeah, be sure to be polite and ask him for another after every one he gives you. It's not his fault you were being an asshole and he shouldn't be made to feel guilty for having to do this to you."
I couldn't believe my ears! This asshole was a real piece of work. If only I could get loose and turn the tables on him. I was fuming inside, but that feeling was interrupted by the sound of a paddle hitting flesh. It took a second for me to realize that I'd just been struck and then the pain came. "Oh Fuck! that hurt!" I yelled out loud.
The gunman yelled out "This is your final warning Spanky, follow my instructions or someone will get seriously hurt! Now cut out the idle chit chat and get to counting!"
The pain was incredible and I knew at that point, I was in for quite a beating. But I also knew that my failure to follow instructions could mean the serious injury, or even death, of me or Chris, so I said "One. Thank you Chris, may I have another?"
A moment passed and I heard the man say "Whoa, whoa there, 'Chris'. Spanky asked you a question. Aren't you going to answer him before you give him another?"
Chris' voice seemed a little uncertain as he answered, but he said "Yes Sir. Sorry Sir." His next statement was directed at me. "Yes Nick, I'd be happy to give you another."
What!?! He'd be 'happy' to give me another. Where the fuck did that come from? Any chance to reflect on that further was interrupted by another loud crack on my ass. "Two. Thank you Chris, may I have another?" I blurted out.
"Yes Nick, of course I'll give you another."
And that's how it went for a few more swats. With each one the pain was getting more and more unbearable. I was reaching the point of not being able to avoid crying. And the breaking point happened at twenty two. I had managed up to that point to bear the pain, but it had passed that bearable point and I just broke down and started crying. "Twenty Two. Thank you Chris. May I please have another?"
There was a change in Chris' voice this time. I think it had finally sunk in just how badly this was hurting. Perhaps he was just thinking that this was a game and that's why he was being so flippant with his responses earlier to me. But now, his voice had changed and his tone was one of regret and guilt. "Yes Nick." was all he said this time and there was definitely no hint of fun in that voice.
The punishment continued, with me counting them out and asking for more. I was sobbing and crying like I'd never done before. I could barely see through the tears, but I could see that the carpet below me was visibly wet and that there was snot stretched from my nose to the carpet as well. I had long ago reached to point of not resisting, but Chris had his hand on the small of my back to make sure that I wouldn't move. When he placed it there earlier, I had grabbed it with my two hands and wouldn't let go. I couldn't imagine how bad my ass looked at that moment. It felt horrific and I could only imagine that it must have started bleeding a long time ago.
We were reaching the end now and I realized that when I reached 57, I was supposed to ask for another. Fuck, what was I supposed to do? All to soon, the moment arrived. Crack! "Fifty Seven. Thank you Chris, may I please have another?" I blurted out between my sobs.
You've heard of a 'pregnant pause' right? Well this was the mother of all of 'em before Chris finally asked "What should I do Sir? We've reached the agreed upon number, should I really give him another?"
"Well, he asked for another, didn't he? So, Spanky must want another one." quipped my tormentor. He was now 'my' tormentor as I was the one bearing the pain of this encounter. "Spanky, you've asked for another one, are you sure that you want it?"
"No Sir, please stop now, I'm begging you, please let it stop." I was sobbing so much that my words were almost unintelligible.
"Can't do that Spanky. You asked for another, and another is what you'll get. You heard him Chris, give 'em another."
I was in a different place at this point, the pain having driven reality from me. I heard Chris say "Yes Nick" and all I could do was babble "Please don't Sir, I didn't mean it, I don't want another. Please stop!" as the next blow crashed on my ass and rocked my precarious world. I just lay there and sobbed even louder. I couldn't get the required words out of my mouth. That is until I was threatened with "You'd better say the words, Spanky, or else we start all over from the beginning." and I was able to utter "Fifty Eight. Thank you Chris, may I please have another."
Again, there was a long pause where I'm sure that Chris was looking at my tormentor with the unasked question hanging on his lips. The response came too quickly.
"You heard him. He wants another so give him another."
Chris said "Yes Nick" and I felt Chris push down a bit harder on my back and another crack of the paddle was heard. I screamed after this one for what seemed like an hour, but was probably just a few seconds. It took all the strength I had to say "Fifty Nine. Thank you Chris. May I please have another?"
This time Chris didn't pause, he just answered "Yes Nick" pushed down harder on my back and slammed my ass again with the paddle. I couldn't take another blow. So I said "Sixty. Thank you Chris. Sir, can we please stop now? I'm begging you to let this end!"
"So you're saying that you're ready for Chris to get his reward then?"
"Yes Sir. Anything to stop the punishment..."
"Okay Chris, you heard him, he's ready to give you a blow job as your reward..."
Part 2 coming soon...
Comments, constructive criticism, and ideas about future story content are appreciated and may be addressed to me at dom_games@hotmail.com. If you wish to see what I look like, go to outpersonals.com or alt.com and find my profile listed there (DominickWilson). On outpersonals.com, I have many photos available for my network friends.