Monday 31 October 2011

The Night Continues

   I led him upstairs by the collar,I needed to clean him up before continuing with the punishment.His eye was puffy and swollen and the surrounding flesh was already a dark purplish blue.In the downstairs cloakroom I sponged his face off.The blood looked much worse than it really was,my first punch had driven his top lip onto his teeth and that now mingled with beads of my cum that were spread around his mouth.
   He looked much better after I had sponged the wound and I quickly buckled on a black leather mask that covered the whole of the front of his face.It had padded eye covers and left his mouth exposed,I fully intended to use that again before the night was out,unless of course I changed my mind and chose to fuck him up the arse.That of course was my prerogative,all his holes were available for me to use as I decided.
   Once he was strapped into the mask I led him back to the dungeon.One of the features that I had incorporated into the build was the pair of vertical timber pillars,set about two metres apart and with steel anchor rings screwed into the uprights at regular intervals.I unchained him and removed the steel manacles and fetters before fitting him with solid black leather cuffs on his wrists and ankles.I clipped his wrists to the highest of the steel rings,this causing him to stand on his toes to enable him to reach.Now I took his ankles and spread his legs wide apart before slipping short lengths of rope through the D rings.As I hauled them in his feet moved outwards towards the pillars until the point was reached where he could no longer reach the floor with his feet.I secured both ankles tightly to the rings and his body now formed the shape of a star with each foot a few inches off the ground.
    I unzipped his leather shorts and took out his cock,fondling it in my gloved hand as it grew in rigidity.His vulnerability tied in this position was very erotic and I felt my cock once more beginning to respond to the visual and tactile stimulation of the situation.I selected a black leather flogger from the wall rack and teased the heavy tails through my gloved hands,swirling it through the air,feeling it's weight and listening to the satisfying whirr as it cut the air.
  I stood back and set my booted feet well apart to give me the stability that I needed as I prepared to whip him.I drew it back and brought it around from somewhere behind my back in a swirling arc,allowing the weight of it to develop the momentum and aiming for a point towards the centre of his chest between the nipples.The impact when it came was sufficient to make him cry out in pain and shock at the landing of flogger caused his tightly secured body to rock back and forth in it's bonds.No sooner had I delivered the first stroke than I drew back the whip and began the process again.By the time the second stroke landed red raised weals were already appearing from the first and I set up a rhythmic pattern of applying a stroke every couple of seconds,aiming to build the level up with each successive swing.
  His body now bucked against each impact and he emitted a long continuous groan as I settled down into the pattern of the whipping,feeling my cock tight up against the constricting leather of my breeches.His chest reddened and the individual points of impact of the tailed whip showed in darker relief as the strokes continued.I counted ten,twenty,thirty heavy strokes as I continued the punishment without any great feeling of sympathy,I was enjoying myself far too much to be constrained by such considerations.His neatly muscled torso that I loved looking at so much glistened with sweat as he fought desperately agains the secure bonds that held him directly in the path of my unforgiving flogger.Of course it was no use him fighting against it,my experience had taught me that once a slave is securely bound for punishment it is only the decision of his Master that will bring the session to a close.With my cock fully pumped up by the eroticism of the situation there was no prospect of it ending anytime soon.
  His head slumped forward onto his chest as he now gave up any hope that the vicious punishment would come to an end and I detected a low sob begin to come from him.This represented the total crushing defeat that he had now suffered and I experienced the  thrill and exhilaration that went with it. I laid the flogger down and ran my gloved hand over my crotch.Once again I had achieved a full erection as a result of the sound beating that I had given the slave.His body hung suspended between the timber uprights,still vulnerable and exposed as my eye now fell on the black case that held the electro set.
    I flipped open the clips and examined the contents.I slid open the back of the generator unit and put in a pair of new batteries before hanging it from one of the leather loops on his shorts.His cock responded once more to my touch as I tightened the elastic strap around it's base,making quite sure that the steel braids that were woven into the fabric were in contact with his flesh.I drew back his foreskin and placed  the second band around the ridge just beneath his cock head before inserting the two jack plugs into the sockets in the generator unit.He began to mumble some sort of plea as he realised what I was doing. "Shut up,slave" I said with no intention of showing him any kind of mercy.I needed to see him under the duress of electro torture now.Almost as an afterthought I took a leather head harness with a built in gag from the rack,forced the hard,unyielding rubber ball between his teeth and strapped it up tight around his skull,feeling my actions give a further kick to my already rigid cock. 
    I  twisted the control on the current generator up to full and stepped back with the zapper in my hand.I casually jabbed the button and his body performed an instant crazy dance as a desperate scream was strangled in his throat by the unforgiving rubber gag.I pressed it again,watching in frozen fascination as the high voltage performed it's evil work,I was enjoying this sadistic torture more than I could express and I wanted nothing other than to see him suffer still more and to an even higher level for my entertainment,knowing there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop or control it,he was under my power completely,and that is how it would remain until such time as I decided otherwise.

Sunday 30 October 2011

Vulnerability

It's strange how that feeling affects you when you're faced with something you can't do anything about even if you can't at first see the danger. As the lights went on in the dungeon I immediately opened my eyes, the light level was very low to anyone entering from daylight. For me though, who'd been in pitch darkness for what seemed hours, it was bright enough to make me screw up my eyes in defence.
My master descended the steps and stood in front of me. I could see his leathers reflecting the wall lights, a smooth sheen on his boots whilst the trousers and vest showed the creases and multiple reflections of their surfaces. I then saw his mask. I knew he had one of those executioners' types but he didn't often wear it. I remembered that, when he did, it was generally because he was in an exceptionally hard mood. And something new, the leather arm bands. They completed the overall look, that of one of a real medieval torturer with a body builder's physique. Suddenly the inside the cage felt safe. The steel bars afforded no defence against whatever he chose to do to me but it felt so much more vulnerable when he opened the cage and pulled me out by the neck. I was stiff and cold and did not find it easy to move.
I stood waiting. My arms were pinioned and I was being held by the chain from my neck. There was a feeling of challenge. I get them sometimes. I began an erection at the thought. They always end the same way but I still persist in thinking I can overcome what he intends. If only.
He just stood there. I looked up at his face then straight ahead into his chest as I was taught. It was then I first caught a glance of the gloves I'd bought and put out for him to try. I stood still as did he. Everything happened so quickly after that.
I just about had time to tense my stomach as I saw him bring his arm round, hand in a tight fist. I felt surprise and pain, the first blow went straight into my gut. I caught my breath, immediately my eyes concentrated on the gloves he was wearing and tried to prepare for the next blow that was sure to follow. The gloves! I'd seen them on line and thought they'd be a hot addition to his wardrobe. I hadn't thought so much about their use.That was when my mind alerted me to my new vulnerability. Up to now I could generally see what was coming, the whip, cane, strap and on my back or arse. He was now delivering pain in a totally random, totally unexpected  way. As I looked up again I first heard the thud of his fist as it ploughed into my abdomen and then felt the red hot, heavy dragging agony as it shocked through me from my stomach to my shoulders. It was like being hit by a wrecking ball. I felt my knees go, I couldn't catch a breath, there was no support from my muscles. I think I sank down but the tension on the chain kept me upright.
 It lasted a very short time. His fist came up and landed a vicious blow to my face. My mouth seemed to fill with blood, iron-salty tasting, I spat and swallowed and choked trying to catch my breath. My wrists were raw as they tried to force their way out of the irons that held them rigid. Then he hit me under the eye. My  brain went fuzzy. It's difficult to remember in detail. I let go inside. I couldn't resist and I felt wide open to any and all the punishment he wanted to put my body through. I think I fell forward, I was dribbling spit and blood, to curl up into a ball was what my brain had told my body to try and do. I saw nothing but black leather with my one open eye. My head was being held up, the iron collar was cutting into my neck as all my weight was supported by it. I started to mutter something about mercy but in my head I wanted him to finish me off, to simply hit me into oblivion, I could be unconscious and he could feel fulfilled.
Being hit in the balls is like nothing else. It reverberates through you to your head, your ears scream and you get that giddy sick feeling all at once, that and the pain from the point of impact which seems to go on and on at the same intensity. I heard a scream which must have been me and all I could see was his black leathered body in front of my face. I closed my good eye and saw bright yellow circles of light in my head.  He grabbed the chain even harder and jerked me forward into his crotch where his huge erect cock was waiting for my injured mouth. I don't think I opened it, he simply thrust himself into me, pushing hard into my throat. What pain I had was now secondary to my need to breathe. His piston like cock cut off my airflow and was making me retch, choke, spit blood and whimper whenever I could gasp for breath.. But there was no let up. I made noises in my throat, pulled my head back hard to no avail as the collar prevented any relief and inside my head I gave up to the power he presented over me. Even through all this I was sucking with all my strength. There was something deep down inside me that wanted him to cum into me, that wanted to take his juices, to feel him as part of me. This was a new challenge and I wanted desperately to win or at least come up to expectations. I wanted to cum with him. Inside my injured cock and balls there was a heat of passion. He got closer. His  huge shaft managed to increase in size in those last few moments before his roaring scream filled the dungeon and thick wads of spunk were mixed with my bloody spit as I swallowed everything he shot into me. He had to continue to support my weight by the chained collar as he guided my mouth to lick the last few drops of cream off his cock shaft. He then let go. I sank into the ball I had tried to be earlier. I had no thoughts of anything except rest but my semi erect cock wasn't so sure.

Sunday 23 October 2011

The Assault

It was only as I was passing the table in the hallway on my way down to the dungeon that I glanced down and noticed them.The slave was in the habit of buying me little presents from what remained of his allowance for running the Fireblade at the end of the month and on this occasion it had been a pair of black leather sparring gloves.I picked them up and looked at them.They had arrived in the post the previous morning and I often mused as to whether the postman wondered about the anonymous parcels that we received on a regular basis.
   As a hint of the slave's desires it was a pretty strong one.I took them from the cellophane wrapper  and pulled them on,wriggling my fists into them,feeling the  tight resistance of the new leather as they took on the shape of my big hands.They felt good and purposeful as I pulled the velcro bands across and secured them around my fists and I knew then that I would now have no option but to experience the erotic violence that they promised.I loved the way the padded leather moulded around my knuckles and imagined them at the moment of impact as they drove deep into his body and the pain that he would feel as they made contact.
   I am not at all certain at what point he noticed that I had put them on.The black leather executioner style hood and the heavy leather studded forearm protectors probably drew his attention first and disguised my intention of opening the session in such unexpectedly explosive,spectacular fashion.
    Had the sexual drive not been as strong I would probably have felt like a bully.He stood half a head shorter than me,four stone lighter in addition to which his arms were shackled tightly to his sides by strong steel chains.His capacity for either defence or offence was negated very effectively and he was totally vulnerable to whatever I might choose to do to him.But this imbalance of power didn't have any bearing on what I did now I had removed him from the confinement of the steel body cage where he had languished for the past hour,it possibly exacerbated it and made it still hotter.
    I am not,nor have I ever been a boxer.I can see the obvious homoerotic attraction of the sport,although I must admit retrospectively to being  rather taken by surprise by the strength of my reaction to what occcurred in the next few seconds.I had led him out of the cage by his collar and had him standing before me as I suddenly and without warning delivered a swinging left handed uppercut to his belly,catching him just beneath the ribs.The resistance of his firm muscles was more than I had expected,he was in good physical shape after his summer of hard labour and it was only the arrival of the hard driven right handed punch to the same spot that drove the wind from him,the resistance of his flesh followed immediately by this sudden capitulation of  his muscles was a wonderfully enjoyable new experience.I had of course seen body punching as a form of erotica but had not realised it's raw intensity caused by the direct contact between my fists and his body.His stunned gasp from the second impact began the process of collapsing his knees and,as he sagged before me I now punched him firmly in the face,using my left fist again.
    The result was immediate and quite spectacular.His bottom lip,driven onto his teeth and crushed beneath my fist split open and the blood released by it in a spurt spread across his chin,running in a crimson rivulet down the front of his neck.My cock,which had immediately turned to steel at the first impact seemed to harden still further and I brought my right fist round to make contact just beneath his left eye.The connection again was perfect and all thoughts of how he was going to look for the next fortnight with his faced heavily bruised by my vicious punches were driven far from my mind by the sexual thrill of  delivering this unprovoked beating.
    I pride myself on keeping control in these situations,but this was the closest I had ever come to losing it as,driven by my peaking sexual desire I desperately needed to hurt him more.I didn't really think about it for a split second as he now balanced on his knees on the floor in front of me,instinctively I drew back a leg and drove my laced leather knee boot with some force into his unprotected genitals.His scream of agony reverberated around the dungeon as his testicles,crushed by the heavy impact,forced him to curl into a ball.I gathered my composure,knowing that I had gone as far as I dare without risking permanent damage and,stepping forward placed my right boot on the side his neck,creating a pose of absolute domination as he lay there groaning.It felt so good that remorse didn't come into it.
   I bent down and grabbed the chain attached to the steel collar and hauled him roughly back onto his knees.His face looked a bit of a mess now with the blood spread across the lower half and his eye already closing from a large,puffy bruise.My first rection was to clean him up and give him some sort of first aid,but my attention was now drawn to my raging erection that was desperately fighting  to get out of my leather breeches.I unzipped and my huge cock sprang free,hard and streaked with the pre cum that had been released during the period of my dressing for this encounter and over the time of this short  but explosive assault.
  I forced it roughly between his bloodied lips.If I expected resistance I was mistaken  and  I felt his desperation match my own now .Despite or maybe because of, the vicious beating he had received he took it instantly into to his throat,disregarding the fact that it was already beginning to choke him as my rigid shaft denied him air.I drove into him with ever increasing force,perhaps a dozen times. Each thrust took my erection fully to the hilt as he choked on both blood and cock.Then the first wave of the most incredible orgasm hit me,taking my own breath away as the spunk now coursed it's way down his throat like a hot,salty river with the force that felt to me like that of a discharging gun.I emptied every last drop into him,telling him to clean me up with his mouth,which he did with his usual thoroughness,gleaning the final dribbles that oozed from my slit and swallowing them greedily in the way that he had that made me feel the best Master on earth,such was his obvious desire for the fluids that my body produced to feed him on.It was to be the first orgasm of a very long night  that we would both have cause to remember.

Saturday 22 October 2011

A Relaxing Evening

   Reclining in the warm soapy water I took stock of my situation.Since becoming the owner of a 24/7 slave my life had taken a distinct turn for the better.For me there were no more concerns as to mundane domestic work.In a way it was rather like a nobleman from days long past who had servants to attend to every eventuality.In this case it was even better than that as my slave was in receipt of no pay whatsoever.He consumed very little food as I fed him largely on scraps and leftovers.This wasn't as much to save money as to maintain his neat,trim figure which throughout the long,hot summer had looked so good in the tiny pair of tight fitting black leather shorts that was virtually all his uniform consisted of.I made him one concession only,an allowance sufficient to maintain the red Honda Fireblade that he kept in the garage,and which he was allowed to take out for rides at weekends.I often thought as I watched him ride away in his fitted leathers that none would guess from his aggressive biker's appearance just what his situation was.
   I glanced at the clock on the bathroom wall,it was almost nine,an hour since I had shackled him into the steel cage in the dungeon.One of the fun aspects was that whenever I left him in the darkness he had absolutely no idea as to how long it would be before I returned.It might be an hour,or it might be a day.This ability that I possessed to control his life was something  I found highly erotic.Eventually I climbed from the bath and crossed to where my short white towelling dressing gown hung on the back of the door.The full length mirror showed my semi erect cock,smooth shaven by the slave the previous evening and my heavy balls that I could tell he loved so much as he kissed and fondled them when I reclined naked on my big bed that I sometimes allowed him to share.I loved this ability purely on a whim to either take him into the warm, comfortable bed or to shackle him,often in extreme discomfort in one of the cages or the bare prison cell in the dungeon.
   I slid into the black leather breeches,feeling the cool strong hide around my hips as I zipped them up.Their fit was perfect,looking almost as if my body had been poured into them.The raised bulge at my crotch where my penis shaft lay beneath the smooth black leather reflected the light in a most erotic way that caused the bulge to increase slightly.I pulled on the boots and carefully straightened the tongues at the knee before drawing the laces around the rows of hooks that drew the leather in close to my long,muscled legs and moulded the boots to their shape.I selected a plain black leather vest that left my shoulders bare.I had,over the last three years built up my shoulder muscles by regular swimming and the narrow vest straps displayed these to perfection.I opened the box that had come in the post the previous morning and took out the two black leather tubes about a foot long.Each one was encircled with studs at the narrower end and I buckled them into place around each forearm.The effect was most pleasing,and I thought,very dominant.The leather fitted tightly from wrist up to elbow.I buckled the wide leather belt around my waist and tightened each of the three brass buckles in turn,it nipped my waist in firmly and felt very sexy.Finally I took the black leather executioner's hood from the draw and slipped it on my head,drawing the laces tight at the back of the skull. What I now saw reflected in the mirror before me I knew would be enough to at least make the slave's heart beat a little faster when he first laid eyes on me.I knew his weakness for these pieces of equipment and what they said about the man that wore them.With this firmly in my mind I now descended the stairs to the hall and slid back the timber bar on the dungeon door.
   The dim lights flickered on as I  turned the switch at the top of the stairs.I couldn't see the slave until I was more than half way down the flight but I knew that he would be able to see my legs as first my boots and then my breeches and belt came into view.Then I was standing at the foot of the steps and our eyes met as he took in the full outfit for the first time.I saw the look of surprise spread over his face as he confronted the leather clad medieval torturer who now advanced slowly,deliberately towards the cage in which he was pinioned. I spread my long,booted legs and fingered the shaft of the black riding crop that I now flexed threateningly between my outstretched hands.I saw him swallow nervously as I stepped forward and turned the key in the cage door,releasing the lock.The door hinged open and I took him roughly by the chain attached to his steel collar,dragging him out to stand on the floor of the dungeon before me.

Wednesday 19 October 2011

The Hole

I felt some relief when the sun disappeared over the horizon and I was no longer being battered by its rays, still hot even though it was evening. I wondered at first if the hole I was instructed to dig was to be another form of torture that been devised by my Master. The size I had been told to mark out and the depth to which he wanted it dug could easily have been one of those pits that the prisoner is partly buried in and then tormented for as long as the Master wants. But he seemed to be in no hurry to advance those plans. Instead he stood by and watched me as I got increasingly exhausted. Sweat ran into my eyes and stung but I dared not stop to wipe my face, I saw the single tailed whip in his gloved hands and knew instinctively what I would get if I did. It was bad enough trying to lift that heavy clay caked shovel over the rim of the hole, that was now deep enough to hide my knees, with hands that showed blistering skin without the need to have my back scored with a whip that could lacerate with one lash. I could see both his black leather boots, boots that I had polished earlier that day, as well as the whip hand every time I threw yet another shovelful over the rim of the hole.
At last I could do no more. I was running with perspiration, my legs felt like lead and my arms had just given up the struggle. I simply could do no more. I waited for the whip to strike but he calmly called me to the side of the hole to where he was standing . There on the grass was a set of the most horny looking irons and chains I had ever laid eyes on. They looked savage. He pulled me forward, I struggled out of the hole and he fastened the collar on me. Cold, hard and a massive weight for my neck I could have no doubt that it was going to be a part of a painful plan for the evenings entertainment. He then wrapped a chain round me and I was soon fastened tightly into manacles and fetters all of which weighed a ton. It was with a mixture of eroticism and dread that, with difficulty, I hobbled behind him into the house.
The cool of the house swept over my damp body and made me shiver. He opened the door of the cellar. My gut lurched as I imagined what he was going to do to me. Sometimes I am really ready for the sexual frisson that a session of torture brings especially as Sir often finishes it with extreme love making which leaves us both satisfied and exhausted but now I was already about to drop and could not contemplate more physical exercise  without the chance of disappointing him. The irons were biting into my neck, wrists and ankles, surely he wasn't going to force me into a worse position. As these suspicions flew around my head I felt my cock swell giving away my inner thoughts to my Master who I was sure had already spotted the increasing bulge in my tight leather shorts.
It was with a smile that he pushed me backwards into the steel cage. It prevented any movement as it squeezed me in a hard metal embrace pressing the chain links into my body and making it difficult to breathe easily. But then he simply turned and  left. I was in total darkness, the only sound was his boots on the stone steps and, at the top, the heavy door excluding anything more. I closed my eyes and waited for what, I didn't quite know.

Tuesday 18 October 2011

In a Hole

The very worst advice for the slave was that if he was in a hole he should stop digging.The hole was a simple and effective means of ensuring that I quickly drove him to,and beyond,his physical limits.
  I admired just how game the boi was when confronted with a situation that he simply could not win.The hole itself was of course literally bottomless.Every cubic metre of earth weighed in excess of a ton,and shifting a single metre in a short space of time was sufficient to exhaust the stamina of a fit man.
  He was fit enough of course.My strict regime of diet and exercise during the period that I had owned him had seen to that aspect and he now possessed the physique of a much younger man,toned and muscled with just enough meat on his trim frame to satisfy my requirements.
  I watched as the pile of earth around the edges of the hole grew,his work rate had already begun to slacken after fifteen minutes.His spirit was strong enough but already the fatigue would be beginning to wear away at his resolve as his tortured muscles screamed for some relief.
   I stepped up to the edge of the hole and the glow of the spotlight caught the polished toes of my black leather boots.I was well aware that my tall,leather clad frame towering over him would be intimidating in the extreme,that was my intention as I now quite deliberately played with the stock of the plaited leather bullwhip,drawing the knotted tail through my gloved fingers in a manner that made it quite clear that I was ready to use it at the first opportunity.
   That opportunity came within the next five minutes as his stamina gave out and he slumped forward, supporting his sweat covered body on the shovel.Secretly I admired his performance,he had given every ounce in an attempt to please me and the firm bulge in the crotch of my leather breeches served as testament to both his efforts and his gallant failure.
   "Come here boi" I said quietly.He moved to the corner of the hole where I stood and where I had placed the heavy iron slave restraints on the grass.I had bought them in an auction of slavery related antiquities a couple of weeks earlier.They were authenticated eighteenth century artefacts that would certainly have been used to restrain the pathetic wretches who had been taken to work on the sugar plantatations.Despite,or maybe because of,their hugely politically incorrect history they had fetched a good price but unlike the majority of potential buyers my use for them was not to display as museum pieces but to use them for the purpose for which they were originally intended.
  I slipped the heavy iron collar into place around the slave's neck and it hinged shut and locked into place just as it would have done when it was new well over two centuries earlier.His head bowed slightly with the weight as the cold,heavy iron rested on his shoulder blades and I felt an undescribable sexual thrill run through my body.He obediently knelt beside the hole and placed his wrists at his sides as I drew the heavy chain around his hips connecting it to the front of the collar and then slipped the manacles on him and locked them in turn to the chain that encircled his body.He was now fully restrained and completely unable to move his hands from their position locked at his sides.The heavy iron fetters were superfluous in a way but I locked them around his ankles around the tops of his boots and connected the short length of chain that held them to each other.In this way the slave was effectively hobbled and able only to move in short shuffling steps.Originally intended as a means of preventing escape this now also served the purpose of giving him an humiliating gait imposed upon him  .by his Master.
   I turned towards the house where the solar patio lights now glowed like markers."Follow me boi" I said,my boots crunching on the gravelled path that he had laid earlier in the summer and which ran the length of the garden.It took us a minute or so to reach the house,his feet shuffling as they were restricted by the chains.We crossed the kitchen into the hallway and I slid back the bar on the old timber door that led onto the dungeon  steps.I had set the light level quite low and the dungeon was cool after the mugginess of the humid summer night.I loved the atmosphere of the subterranean chamber and the pervading silence of the place,a silence that was only ever broken by the sweet music of the slave's pitiful moans as I tortured him for my pleasure.I weighed up my options as he stood in his chains at the bottom of the steps,a bulge in his leather shorts showing that he was enjoying this just as much as I was.
   Our eyes met briefly before he averted his towards the dark stone floor and I ran a gloved hand across his chest tweaking his left nipple,something I knew turned him on.I leant forward and allowed my lips to briefly brush his.I guided him across to the steel barred upright body cage and backed him into it.His body still had patches of sweat from his digging,I  closed the cage door,I had had it made to measure for him and it was a tight fit,his chest and shoulders pushing up against the vertical bars as the lock clicked smoothly shut.
    The warm evening air had made me feel a little sweaty too and I clicked off the lights in the dungeon as I climbed the steps back to the house.I went into the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of my favourite white wine and made my way upstairs to run a cool bath,undressed and slipped into the water to relax before deciding exactly how the evening was going to continue.

Tuesday 11 October 2011

Next Morning

It was barely light when I woke for the last time that night.  To say it had been difficult to sleep would be an extreme understatement.  Master had initially fixed the chains to the bed in such a way that I could be restrained comfortably, allowing for some movement in every direction. The only thing I couldn’t do was to turn over completely although, when only the collar was attached to the bedhead, even this was more or less possible. Last night there was no such generosity. My ankles were locked into steel manacles and pulled to each side of the end frame whilst my wrists were similarly locked into tight, cold, steel restraints and pulled up to the head frame. My metal collar could of course be swivelled around my neck until it met with the connecting chain but last night he purposely fixed it just below my right ear so I had lain with the chain links rubbing against my neck. My back stung and the pain from my shoulders throbbed down my spine and into my legs.
Sir entered the room, unlocked my right wrist and without speaking put the key into my palm.
“Do the rest and get the breakfast ready boi” was the only greeting. He turned and left. Even in the gloom I saw that he was wearing the leather jeans that I admired so much topped with the wide belt I had often polished to a mirror like finish. I so desperately wanted him to turn, hold me and say I was forgiven then push me back onto the bed whilst he enjoyed my body in any way he chose. But no, he left the room and I heard his boots on every stair. I breathed deeply, figuring this was to be a long haul back to normality, then unlocked my neck followed by the other fetters. I saw dried blood on the sheet as I got up, thin lines of red matching the pattern now etched on my back.
I did the breakfast routine without comment whilst Sir sat variously reading the paper and watching me over the top of the pages. After serving I knelt by his side as normal. Nothing.  No acknowledgment of any sort. My head pounded, my body ached but I was determined to kneel upright and not show what I felt inside.

At the end of the meal I cleared, still without any word from my Master, and stood as normal facing the wall with my hands behind me waiting for the morning's orders. I waited. Then I felt his fingers softly touching my spine just below the leather slave collar even now rubbing my neck which was still sore from the night before. He ran his fingers down my spine, barely touching me, until he reached the top of my tight leather shorts, round the belt and up the insides of my arms. I tingled inside, my gut churned hot, my cock began to harden simply at the feel of his hands on my skin as he gradually worked his way round my chest and played very gently with my nipples. It was complete ecstasy. I felt the pressure on my knees as my legs strained against the overwhelming need to sink slowly to the floor. My mouth was dry with anticipation. I desperately wanted to turn and face him, to unclasp my hands and hold his. He must have felt that need as he held my shoulders and nuzzled my neck. I still didn't move afraid of spoiling the moment I had craved would end the punishment I was still mentally suffering. Slowly my Master's leather gloved hands reached round and turned me to face him. They grasped me round the hips and pulled me close. I closed my eyes as his face neared mine, my tongue found his and I swam in a flow of his warmth, my breath taken from me. I felt his cock hard against my own, each straining against the leather that held them prisoners. My arms reached round and pulled him against me as urgently as his did to me.
"To my room boi" were the last words he spoke that morning. There was no further need for either of us to speak.


  the slave tells me today that,in regard to what we do and the satisfaction we derive from it "the figures do not exactly add up".Certainly the whole seems to amount to considerably more that the sum of the constituent parts and within the context of our relationship this observation of his is an understatement of considerable proportions. 
   In fact the scale of the not adding up,when regarded by most outsiders,is akin to multiplying oranges by apples,or listening to a foreign language being spoken when we know nothing of it's vocabulary or it's structure.In short the vast majority would not understand  in any meaningful way the pleasure we derive from our esoteric erotica.
   These thoughts come to me on a sultry late summer's evening as dusk is starting to gather over our long back garden.Beyond the small orchard of apple and pear trees that lies at the very end of  this area of land is a small patch of rough grass where I have been known to stake him out,his limbs spreadeagled and secured by strong ropes to the four steel groundpegs.Tonight however  the slave is engaged in digging a hole. 
   Strangely it's a hole that I don't really have a use for,and will probably,on a whim,order him to refill at some point.But for now it serves it's purpose.It's a hard,humiliating task digging  the hole with a shovel and the slave looks extrremely sexy. His lithe little body,clad only in calf length boots and the tight black leather shorts that I issued him as his outdoor summer uniform,strains to shift the heavy clods of clay.He is already streaked with sweat that runs in sexy rivulets down his back as he labours.The sweat glistens as it reflects the light from the small spotlight that illuminates the growing hole. I find myself wanting to lick it off,to taste the results of the instantly obeyed orders that I have given him to perform this task.
   But for now I stand on the edge of the hole towering above the toiling boi,listening to his grunts as he lifts each shovelful of earth.I am wearing  my polished black leather knee boots laced over matching breeches that increasingly show at the bulging crotch my enjoyment of watching him dig his way to exhaustion.I tease the braided leather tail of my favourite bullwhip through my gloved hands as I savour the effects of the heavy labour as it saps his energy.
  Every time he raises the shovel I know that his eye will fall on my crotch and my whip.It is one of the facets of being so much inside his head,of knowing exactly how he ticks.Tonight,for our mutual satisfaction I have recreated a scene from a labour camp where the cruel guard drives the prisoner on until he falls exhausted,but with a refinement. In our case.the slave knows what fate awaits him when his energy eventually fails him and slips away,denying him the ability to move the earth at a rate that satisfies his owner.When that does eventually  happen his limbs will be manacled,fettered and chained, a leash attached to his  heavy leather collar and he will be led from his place of labour down to his place of punishment.
  Of course there is no suggestion that he warrants such harsh treatment,he has laboured to the very edge of exhaustion to satisfy his Master but this is all part of the delicious paradox,the key to understanding and enjoying that which is available to so few.

Sunday 9 October 2011

Initial Warning

I knew it was hopeless. I’d wasted most of the time I should have been working on the garden polishing my bike, the one luxury that Sir had allowed me, all 1000cc of gleaming metal, sex on wheels in fact. I was desperate that he’d acknowledge my apologies, it was a genuine mistake. Time simply flew by and I had no watch. If he said he was to sell the bike….. but no.  I was now naked and following him down the cellar steps so presumed I was in for a beating.
He stood me between the heavy upright posts in the centre of the room on a stool. My wrists were strapped into stiff leather restraints which were in turn attached by chains to rings near the top of the posts, I was on tip toes with arms at about 45 degrees to the horizontal, stretched tight. The thought of a beating in that position hardly bore thinking about.
Sir walked round to face me. He very quietly and calmly itemised all the disappointment he felt with me and listed what he expected a slave in my position to be capable of. He then went on to illustrate what might happen to slaves who failed to reach accepted standards. I waited for the lash from the single tailed whip he held whilst he spoke but it didn’t come, not then anyway.
Without any warning he suddenly kicked the stool out from under me. I would have screamed but my breath was taken from me. My arms felt as if they were being wrenched from their sockets and the pain, unlike some torture positions I have endured where it peaks at a level which I can just about stand, simply grew more intense with every second. Crucifixion at least had support of sorts for the feet. I hung there in absolute agony gasping for every mouthful of air. Sir now used the whip. One lash for each of the broken rules and waited for my apology between each one. I had broken 7 rules, apparently, and had to acknowledge each of them before I was released.  A total of 4 or 5 minutes in that position had reduced me to a moaning heap on the concrete floor. 
That night, chained to my bed in the attic, my body ached in a way no whipping had done in the past.

slave thoughts

The daily tasks keep me busy and reasonably fit. There was a time when I had some trepidation about becoming owned 24/7, the thought that it would be all pain and suffering didn’t bother me at the time as that was part of the thrill, but I wondered about the other times. Life would have to go on as normal in so many other ways; would it all be worth it?
Now, obviously, I can answer yes in all respects. The relationship has flourished whilst our relative positions have hardened into their roles. I see myself only as a slave and Master as Master. 
He has a very fertile imagination when it comes to punishment. To the outsider that sounds as if it is administered as a result of misdemeanour. Far from it. It is a basis for the relationship and involves total trust, love and a sexual fulfilment that nothing else comes near to providing. Of course there is “punishment” as well. Things go wrong, I do stupid things that deserve reprimand and then it becomes totally clear that he is Master and in control of every aspect of my life. The cellar was designed to cope with every aspect of that. Uplighters built into the walls can be dimmed to nothing or raised to give off a warm yellow glow that floods the space with an even almost shadowless light. Then, above each of the specific pieces of equipment, there are halogen spots that cut through any gloom to reveal the subject in ice white and show every mark, every detail of the Master’s work.
These specialist pieces include a steel cage that reaches the ceiling but is only a bare eighteen inches square at the base.  The occupant goes in with his arms above his head from where there is no chance of movement, leaving the body unprotected, vital areas being reached through small doors opening at different levels. Sir generally ties my arms anyway when putting me in the cage, precautionary he calls it. Then there is the horse /fuck bench complete with shackles, a rack with stocks built into one end thus serving several purposes, a heavy wooden cross and most innocently of all two wooden posts set about 6 feet apart reaching from floor to ceiling as though they were simply helping to hold the ceiling in place. Closer inspection reveals sturdy metal plates to which steel rings are attached at intervals up each inside length.   A bench along one wall has a series of hooks above it holding various whips, shackles, masks, gags, straps and ropes, hoods, in fact all the average sadist might require once the victim is in place.  Shelves beneath hide a multitude of small items that all play a vital role.  It’s my job to clean, polish and generally maintain all these things so that they are ready to reduce me eventually  to the point which Master finds sufficiently submissive and sexually stimulating and decides to rest – for a while.

Thursday 6 October 2011

The House

     The casual passer by would see only a large but unremarkable detached house.Set within the quiet cul-de-sac only a few hundred metres from the beach it appeared the apothesis of mundane suburban life.The Master had chosen the property when their relationship had become permanent.Although the slave had no input to the decision he nevertheless realised that he was an integral part of it.The Master had registered him and his slave number had been tattooed at the base of his back.He could see it every time he looked in the mirror and it showed just above the line of the sexy black leather shorts that  fitted his neat body perfectly and which The Master loved to see him in.It made him feel rather special to know that he was owned in exactly the same way as a cherished piece of property,even though this arrangement came with many obligations.They were obligations that he accepted gladly,partly due to the strength of his love for The Master and partly because his owner possessed a distinct cruelty to his character that chimed perfectly with his own desire to be hurt and humiliated.
   When it had been constructed in the early years of the last century the original owner had specified that a spacious cellar be incorporated into the substantial red brick house.Approached by a flight of stone steps that descended from a door off the hallway between the kitchen and the drawing room the cellar was a single rectangular room that measured twenty feet by twelve.When The Master had bought the house the only occupants had been a legion of spiders but the subterranean chamber had quickly been transformed by a specialist team of builders and now comprised a dungeon that effectively combined some state of the art twenty first century equipment as well as more time honoured methods of inflicting the pain that drove The Master's perverted desires.
   The call had come just before dusk,as it often did.These shortening autumn days meant less time spent in the spacious garden,fully enclosed by the high red brick wall where he had busied himself in all sorts of ways during the summer.There always seemed something to be done.There was more than half an acre of grass to be kept neatly cut.Beyond this a small orchard of fruit trees to be pruned and weeds to be dealt with as well as maintenance work on the house and this ensured that the slave was always busy.Working in the calf length boots and the brief leather shorts that The Master had issued him as part of his kit after the ownership papers had been signed had built up an attractive tan that he knew was very much admired on his wiry,neat body.
   the slave stood just five feet eight inches,fully six inches smaller than The Master ,whose heavier frame looked so good to him in the black leather that he invariably wore.He loved the way that The Master never passed by without touching him in some way,either to trail his fingers along his prominent shoulder blades,or to caress his firm belly,little things that the slave loved so much,knowing that they signified The Master's deep,enduring desire for him.Often The Master would just grab him and kiss him deeply,their two mouths locked together for what seemed like an age as their cocks mutually stiffened.These things told the slave that he was loved,despite the fact that The Master loved to hurt him in a number of ways far too big to keep count of.
   When he had entered the bathroom it was seven o clock and The Master was stretched out luxuriantly in the big oval bath.The soap suds masked,but did not entirely cover his already semi erect cock that protruded from the surface of the water like some sort of basking sea creature.the slave knelt beside the bath and began to sponge The Master's body,noticing that his cock firmed towards a full erection as he did so.Without being told he leant over the side of the bath and took the big domed cock into his mouth,tasting it's delightful salty tang as his tongue swirled around the head giving the stimulation that he knew delighted him.The Master groaned deeply in pleasure and reclined back into the water,raising his cock and balls fully above the surface as he now slid his mouth up and down,feeling the fleshy pillar become rock hard as his movements worked their usual magic.
   There were occasions like this when The Master would take lead straight to his big bed and he would get to spend the night in the balconied room that looked out from the first floor over the garden,enjoying various forms of hot sex and sharing a bottle of wine that The Master particularly enjoyed feeding to him straight from his own mouth,spurting it still chilled into his.On this occasion however The Master pushed him away and climbed from the bath.
    the slave dried him with the big,pristine white bath towel and helped him to dress in the tight black leather breeches that he had bought in Berlin on their last visit to that city.They fitted him like a second skin and,as he tightened the buckles of the heavy saddle leather belt the slave now felt his own erect cock inside his tiny constricting leather pouch.He ran his hands admiringly over The Master's leather clad hips as he reached for the gleaming black Jean Gaborit boots that fitted The Master's long,sturdy legs to the knee,their laces criss crossed around rows of steel hooks.He finished lacing them and helped The Master into the fitted black leather vest that left his muscled shoulders and arms exposed.The Master finally worked his hands into the tight leather gloves and pointed to the floor.
    the slave knew instantly the meaning of this gesture and he dropped to his knees.The Master turned towards him and he now found his face directly against the firm leather bulge at his crotch as he felt the wide leather collar being buckled tightly about his neck and heard the distinct click of the leash clip as it was attached to the D ring.The Master turned and walked slowly towards the door,the slave following him on his knees like an obedient dog following his owner.They negotiated the stairs and found themselves in the dimly lit hallway off which stood the door to the cellar.When the slave had first seen the cellar it was not an exaggeration to say that it had quite literally taken his breath away.For several seconds after he had first descended the flight of stone steps he had stood there listening to the racing of his own heart as his eyes took in the veritable cornucopia of equipment that was arrayed in the big,rectangular room.The two upright posts caught his eye,six inch square pillars of antique oak that reached from floor to ceiling,set rather too far apart for a mans arms to reach.Steel plates had been set into the timber to which iron tethering rings were attached.They quite clearly possessed sufficient sturdiness that any human being attached to them would be held totally securely,whatever he did in an attempt to free himself.
   Tonight he was led past the rack and the cross.The steel barred body cage was ignored,as was the caning bench with it's array of heavy leather straps that held the slave perfectly still despite the fact that he might be being beaten until his arse bled.The Master selected a pair of heavy grade leather cuffs from the rack and buckled them around the slave's wrists.Then he led him across to stand beteeen the two timber posts and proceeded to chain him to the uppermost rings,set just a few inches below ceiling level.He gave the slave a small stool to stand on,only a few inches high,but enough to relieve the pressure from his arms.He adjusted the steel chains,shortening them to the point where the slave had to stand on his tiptoes,despite having the stool to stand on.Satisfied that the slave was adequately bound The Master stepped forward and kicked away the stool.the slave's body lurched downwards,deprived of it's support,his legs kicked out at fresh air in an attempt to regain his balance,but nothing was there.A scream filled the cellar as his muscles took the weight of his body in a way that they were never intended to,his shoulders distended and pulled upwards by his hanging weight.The Master smiled and stepped forward,grabbing the slaves genitals in his gloved hand. He moved towards the struggling slave and said quietly "You let me down boi,you need to be punished for that ". the slave gasped out a brief apology,but it was too late.The Master had already plucked the braided singletail whip from the rack and was examining the long,heavy black leather tail as he drew it through his gloved hands. "Seven lashes" he said. the slave saw no point in arguing "Yes Sir" he replied between clenched teeth.
   The first stroke when it came was no less of a shock for being expected.The Master had quite deliberately taken his time to get his position right.the slave could glance across his right shoulder and see the powerful black leather clad form as he prepared to begin the punishment,and it was one of the most erotic sights that he had ever seen.Despite his agony as he hung suspended between the posts he nevertheless felt his cock begin to harden a little,as much in the knowledge of his predicament as the wonderful sight of the man who was preparing to whip him.He heard the sound of the lash as it rent the air and then there was an explosion of pain as the speeding whip tail impacted his body in a diagonal line from left hip to right thigh,across both cheeks of his arse.He heard himself screaming,his anguished cry falling to a sob as the sharp initial pain gave way to a steadier but still intense throbbing.He was certain that the whip must have cut him open,although in fact the initial red line was now just beginning to darken towards purple-black as the blood beneath the skin made it's way to the surface.He had barely fallen silent before the second stroke was cutting through the air towards him as The Master felt his cock strain against the tight leather of his breeches as the pure eroticism of whipping another man registered in his brain and made the strange cocktail of pleasurable chemicals flow and he felt an emotion that no drug could create as they coursed through his veins.
   Five more times the lash impacted his bound and thrashing body,his tightly cuffed wrists pulled desperately against the steel restraining rings as with each stroke the pain level increased.The Master stood back and regardrd his sadistic handiwork.The fourth stroke had been accurately laid across the path of the first and the weakened skin had given way,allowing the blood to flow in a long crimson smear that the subsequent three strokes had served to spread across the slaves lower back and upper thighs.His body now hung limply from his bonds,his feet held just clear of the dungeon floor.The Master took his weight easily as he released the cuffs,allowing him to sink into a neat heap.Slumping forward his lips found the toes of the polished black leather boots that he now kissed,giving his thanks for the punishment that he had received.
   He heard the sound of the zipper in the leather breeches and,raising his head he saw the familiar sight of The Master's cock above him,tumescent and triumphant,the head streaked with pre cum a crystal bead of which glistened at the slit.Reaching up he took it in his mouth,feeling the prominent ridge beneath the head under his lips as well as the heavy veins that provided the blood that worked the magic hydraulics and made the whole shaft feel as if it was turned from a rod of solid steel at times like this when The Master was high on the sexual drug that whipping him created.The heady aroma of tanned leather filled his senses,the breeches had smelled wonderful from the first time they had seen them in the Berlin basement from where the craftsman who produced them worked and the smell as much as their appearance served as a strong aphrodisiac to them both.the slave forced himself forward and,as The Master wrapped the leash attached to the heavy leather slave collar around his gloved right fist the shaft penetrated him to the full depth of his throat making him choke in a way that he knew served only to increase the level of pleasure as he heard the distinctive groan of ecstasy from above him.Now he was impaled on the shaft The Master's strong hips began to work in a series of sharp thrusts,each one seemingly forcing the shaft deeper inside him ashe sought to maximise his pleasure.
   the slave continued to choke but this now became a matter of total indifference to The Master as the thrusts moved him closer to his orgasm.His airways closed the slave struggled for his very survival as The Master fucked him harder now and holding him tight on the leather leash that was attached to the heavy collar his ability to fight the bigger,more powerfully built man was severely compromised.Just when it seemed that he would lose consciousness he was aware of a sound that filled his head.The Master's loud, almost deafening roar coincided with the release of the first bolt of hot,creamy spunk,injected directly into the slave's throat in a thick torrent propelled by the muscles whose contraction now gave him such deep pleasure.The Master's orgasm seemed to last forever,but was perhaps only twenty seconds.The Master withdrew his cock and he now gasped in lungfuls of fresh,cool air.He coughed up beads of spunk that had entered his airways as The Master now led him up from the dungeon to his small upstairs room where he was chained securely to his iron bed.

The slave's Perspective.

I presumed Sir was collecting something that afternoon. We drove some distance before I realised where we were going and even then I wasn't positive. My neck ached the most. In that position my head was kept low enough to mean I over-balanced if I didn't keep my hands close by my ears but high enough so as not to bounce it painfully on the metal fixings that I was bolted to. It put pressure on my shoulders as well as my spine. I heard the door close and the voices that started immediately confirmed we were at the forge again. I hoped there was to be no more "playful" measuring, as that was what I presumed had gone on during our first visit, because the playful element meant my balls would suffer another vice like session in the hands of the craftsman Sir was employing. After quite a short time the door closed again, the engine started and we were off.

Returning home my Master felt all over my naked body, naked that is apart from the small leather pouch I was allowed, with his leather gloved hands before he unlocked me from the car cage. I felt a thrill as his fingers worked their magic on the inside of my thighs and slowly massaged my back, my waist and my nipples. My nipples received more than a massage, a very sharp and hard twist in fact which made me groan inside the leather hood. I felt the horse whip for that, he never liked me to comment without permission.
Once out of the cage the hood was unbuckled and I was allowed to go about my duties, or almost. As I turned to go Sir grabbed my forearm and pulled me close. In one movement he locked me in an embrace and we tasted each other for a full two minutes before I was let go, a healthy leathered swipe to my arse sending me to the kitchen.
I worked on chores until it was time to serve supper. There were occasions when we ate together, tonight was not one of them. He was in his full leathers, those glistening, reflective, black shiny ones that showed his body off to perfection. I adored them and him inside them. He knew this and purposely sat where I could, from where I was made to kneel, see the bulge that was his cock. I knew I would get a lot closer to that before the night was over, one way or another it was going to be quite some time before I would be able to sit comfortably again.
I was allowed to eat from my bowl, this should have warned me that there was to be some torture in the offing, but I didn't quite realise what was in store. I cleared the table, washed everything up and retuned to the warmth of the living room with it's blazing log fire that I had made up before leaving for the kitchen. He allowed me to sit on the floor in front of the fire, in front of his armchair as he finished off the wine he had in his glass. It all felt so safe and comfortable. "Stay where you are boi," he said as he got up and went across the room. I did just that. I heard the sound of hard metal and then the feel of it round my neck. He lifted my chin and secured the heaviest collar I'd ever experienced round my neck, locking it tight with a secure and equally heavy bolt. It immediately cut into my shoulder blades and I had to keep very still or suffer the consequences. My arms were pulled behind me and up until they were parallel with each other. Each wrist was then locked into a heavy cold steel manacle which was fixed by a rod from my collar. I couldn't move my arms at all, even if I could it would have meant extra pressure on my shoulders which I didn't want.
Sir was now standing in front of me. I could see the pressure on the leather surrounding his engorged cock as it bulged in the light of the fire. I knew what to do. Reaching forward I carefully surrounded his organ with my mouth, using my tongue as best I could hoping this was what was wanted. I also knew that I had been able to "persuade" Master that this was what he had wanted in the past, even when he had had other ideas for erotic play.
This time it was useless. After experiencing my caress for a minute or so he pushed me away with his knee. I fell backwards onto my arms with a painful thud, rolling to one side to alleviate the pressure. I managed not to cry out which was good because he simply got hold of my collar and hauled me up again. After looking at his expression I knew to give up any hope of a restful night. There was to be pain, lots of it. He picked up his single tailed whip, the one that had cut its way through my flesh on many occasions, that burnt its cruel blistering painful way through my senses until I pleaded and sobbed for respite, and led the way down the stone steps to the cellar dungeon below.

Wednesday 5 October 2011

Steel Restraint

    the slave noticed each individual undulation.Although the sophisticated suspension of the big Mercedes estate car did a good job of soaking up the bumps,in the way in which someone who is blind has heightened senses in other respects he recognised the rolling gait as the car lurched along the unmade road.
   This recognition really was some achievement on his part as his present position,locked inside the heavy steel barred cage that was built into the load area of the car was his normal mode of transport,The Master liked to know that he was secure and,to this end the heavy leather collar that he wore was locked to the steel hasp set into the cage floor and his head was totally enclosed in the beautifully crafted black leatherhood that also deprived him almost totally of his sense of hearing.
    The car drew to a halt and he heard the faint sound of the door close as The Master stepped from the vehicle.In his mind the vision flashed briefly of the polished black boots and the  tailored black leather of the breeches that enclosed the tall body but failed to disguise the thick,nestling cock shaft.
     His listened intently and could just make out the sound of voices,The Master was talking to somebody.This could mean only one thing.Big Steve the blacksmith lived at his cottage and combined forge at the end of a long rutted track set amongst the low, undulating hills of Norfolk.It was an hour's drive from The Master's house and that squared with how long he had been confined,judging from the level of pain in the muscles of his bound and aching body.
     the slave cast his mind back a couple of weeks and it all fell into place.They had travelled there before and he had felt the big calloused hands reach inside the cage as the tape measure had been slipped around his neck and checked the size of his wrists and arms.Big steve had taken the opportunity to playfully squeeze his balls,well playfully for him anyway.The big strong fingershad compressed his vulnerable flesh until he had cried out in pain,prompting a loud,raucous cackle from Steve that had been sufficient to penetrate the hood.
    Later that evening,after he had served The Master's meal and cleared away and washed the dishes he was summoned to The Master's drawing room.It had taken a good hout to do the chores as The Master insisted on him washing everything by hand,It was not just a matter of saving electricity from not using the dishwasher but it put him firmly in his place so that he felt the humiliation of his position more deeply.Temporarily unhooded he watched in fascination as the flickering flames of the log fire reflected on the shafts of The Master's boots.His Master reclined in the comfort of his favourite armchair as he swirled the ruby red claret in the big balloon glass as he savoured it.
   the slave sneaked occasional admiring surrepticious glances at The Master.He was dressed in the full black leather outfit that meant a torture session was in the offing.The Master loved to wear the skin tight black leather breeches that outlined the shape of his arse as well as his heavy cock shaft that the slave had shaved that very morning as The Master had stepped from his bath.He knew that at some point in the night ahead he would receive the gift of The Master's hot cum,the slave craved the warm,thick milky fluid,greedily swallowing every drop that The Master produced apart from those special occasions when it was injected directly into his ass during a night of passion in the big confortable bed that he sometimes was allowed to share in place of his cage or the hard bed of his cell.Those occasions were especially memorable for him as The Master's heavy,elegant cock forced it's way inside his body to deliver it's precious load.
   The Master stood and placed the half empty bottle on the table as he took a draught of the wine.He approached the slave and lifted his head,looking directly into his eyes.He leant forward and placed his lips to the slave's,forcing the warm,rich wine directly into the slave's mouth in a long,delicious spurt that mirrored the way his cock filled him with spunk.
    Glancing down to the table the slave saw for the first time the piece of equipment that Big Steve had crafted for The Master,He picked it up and held it in his gloved hands before offering it up to the slave's neck.The heavy steel hinged shut and locked into place snugly about the slave's neck.He felt it's cold weight bearing down on his shoulders and he was surprised at just how heavy it was,he guessed that the steel was the best part of an inch thick,deliberately designed to be uncomfortable for him to wear.The Master moved behind him and he felt briefly the hard bulge of his cock through the leather as it brushed against him.
    The Master now gathered his wrists and proceeded to lock them behind his back into the similarly heavy manacles that were attached to the collar by a steel shaft.Bolts were tightened and adjusted so that his arms were now locked behind him and totally immobilised.Now he was pushed to his knees before The Master.
    Without being asked he leant forward and kissed the heavy leather bulge.He knew that his skilled lips could melt The Master into passion,he could never receive enough of the slave's mouth but on this occasion he pulled away.This could mean only one thing and the slave shuddered as he contemplated the fully equipped dungeon and torture chamber that lay just beneath their feet,approached from the hallway down a flight of steep stone steps.The Master picked up the leather single tailed whip from the table.
   "Follow your Master slave" he intoned imperiously as he turned towards the door.the slave followed on his knees,his eyes locked on the tall form of his Master,his body encased in black leather and the coiled .single tail hanging from his right hand

Wednesday, 5 October 2011


    
Master and Slave   A Special Relationship

    This blog is the story of a relationship from the initial contact in late August 2005,up to the present day.It is an unusual story of two men who were,and still are,married.It details the course of that relationship through some distinctly unconventional waters.
    Although the protagonists are both male it isn't primarily a story about gay sex.Of course,given the nature of the story sex plays a large part,but it is about far more than that.More than anything it is about a growing relationship that becomes so strong between two people whose mutual attraction is such that their physical separation isn't enough to destroy it.
    Lust plays a big part in it,but not so big that it overcomes the narrative and turns it into just another sex story.Where the story may seem strange to those unaware of the world of S&M is the degree to which the strength of the attraction is fuelled by the desire of one party to inflict physical pain and mental humiliation on the other.What may seem stranger still is the desire to receive such treatment by the slave.
    Often the physical pain inflicted has been intense,sufficiently so to bring the slave to tears.While the slave sees this as a weakness in himself,something abhorrent that he must avoid at all costs and feels deep humiliation in when he gives in to it and is made to beg for mercy,The Master does not see it that way at all.
    By subjecting his slave to such brutal treatment he is in fact expressing love for him.the slave's tears of pain and humiliation represent the slave's priceless gift to The Master.It is a gift that nobody else is capable of giving and,like anything that is fine and rare it's value is increased exponentially by it's scarcity and his willingness to endure excruciating pain for The Master's sublime pleasure represents the depth of his love for the one who owns him.
    the slave's trust that he places in The Master is absolute.The Master may bind him with  rope into positions that torture his muscles and threaten to tear his sinews.He may be locked into cold,unforgiving steel restraints that subject him to long hours of suffering.But even as that suffering reaches the depths of his personal abyss,the slave knows that he wants to go on.
   Even though he may be hooded,in his minds eye he sees The Master,his image burned into the slave's brain.Those magnificent high black leather boots gleam from his labour of polishing them,their laces criss cross the gleaming shafts and are tied with bows at the knee.The skin tight black leather jeans bulge at the crotch and contain The Master's thick cock shaft that stretches the leather and shows the outline of the domed head.Although the slave cannot see this he knows it is there,hard and pleasurable because of the suffering he endures.He feels the touch of The Master's glove as he runs a leather tipped finger along the slave's shoulder blade.He knows that the shape of his body brings The Master to a raging erection and that the painful bondage that he endures sustains the erection indefinitely,often for hours.
    In the back of his mind a small part of his brain tells the slave that he will be released,although he has no idea when the suffering will end he knows that when it does The Master will take him into his strong arms and comfort and protect him.his tears of pain and frustration will then be tenderly kissed away by The Master who has now become a lover.the slave returns the kisses and,as The Master's rampant cock is released from it's own confinement,his lips find the head and he tastes The Master's hot meat within his warm,wet mouth.
   the slave feels it grow and jerk under his ministrations and he hears The Master's sighs of pure, unadulterated pleasure as he brings him closer to orgasm.The Master tugs on his leather leash that is connected to the sturdy leather collar that represents his ownership of the slave.the slave gasps for air and chokes as his throat is filled with the relentlessly thrusting cock,each stroke seemingly forcing deeper until,eventually he hears the cries of undiluted ecstasy and feels the splash of the first bolt of hot,thick spunk hit him.
    As his orgasm begins to subside The Master's head falls back on the pillow as the slave greedily scoops the remnants of the stilloozing creamy spunk up with his tongue and swallows it.The pleasure that he has given is on a scale previously unknown to The Master.No other human being,either male or female has managed to bring the level of intensity combined with the feeling of personal closeness to the orgasm that the slave achieves.It is a rich and unique skill and every time the slave feels that first bolt of hot jiss burst into his mouth and course it's way down his throat to his belly he has the unique satisfaction of knowing that he has achieved that which no other can.
   Now The Master's tongue finds his own and he feels the warm intensity that can only come from the knowledge that the one he loves feels an equal attraction to him.But he also knows that the love can be expressed just as well with the cruel leather whip that The Master loves to wield,cutting crimson tracks across his flesh,or the cold and unforgiving heavy steel fetters and manacles that can hold him frozen into a position of excruciating pain for as long as The Master chooses to leave him.Such is the strange and contradictory nature of S&M.