I'm not sure whether it's a slave's place to think this let alone write it but our relationship is such that I believe it will be read with interest, another facet of the slave's mind, rather than it being seen as impudence. I don't fancy the 48 hours of continual punishment that would result.
However, I have of late been rather taken with the thought of what it would be like to fuck my Master. In those odd moments that I have when not otherwise occupied I muse about the feeling I'd get and what he might think of it.
My reason for apprehension is obvious. It's the last thing a slave should be thinking. Up to now my only way of getting the better of him has been to refuse to plead when being beaten. He sometimes gives me the opportunity part way through a lashing to plead for submission (I'm not sure if it would have any effect anyway) and inside my head I'm shouting "NO! Sod off!" whilst my mouth, if not gagged, is saying "Thankyou Master, I will when I can't take any more." It's my rather pathetic way of making him work harder for the result. Up to now that is.
I have this vision in my head. He's sleeping on his front. It's a warm summer afternoon and there's only a white sheet covering him. I'm naked and standing at the foot of the bed. I slowly gather up the sheet and gradually uncover him until his body is visible up to his waist. Carefully I kneel, first one knee then the other, on the bed between his legs making sure he is not disturbed. I lean forward so that my face is close to his arse. With my hands on his cheeks I almost imperceptibly push my tongue between them, slowly caressing the crack until the tip finds his hole and I lick around the puckered skin of the opening. As I pull the fleshy cheeks further apart my face pushes forward and my tongue enters his body. I now have that smell of sex and his intimate body parts surging through me which immediately makes my semi hard cock rigid with anticipation. I press my tongue further and further backing off only to catch a breath. The area is wet with my licking and tongue play as I tickle him from under his balls to the point where his spine seems to end. He breathes deeply as if having a rather exotic dream, which is what I have intended.
My one hand is playing softly with his back, my tongue is enjoying his hole and my other hand is wanking me slowly until my cock can no longer wait. I sit up carefully, lean forward until I can feel the resistance of his entry against my precum covered organ. A firm but smooth movement and I'm in. My cock is hot with the grasp he has on it. I feel an tremendous sensation of both power and love, respect and domination. I need him like this. There's an almost electrical charge pulsing from my cock head to my stomach down my thighs and into my legs. The rocking gets more urgent as I need to cum, I badly need to cum. I have this power now, he is under me and I dominate. Then it happens. There is a tightness inside which grabs my gut then explodes out through the most sensitive part of me releasing all the feelings I have had inside my head.
I stop rocking, withdraw in a slow careful movement and sit there wondering what I have done. He appears to be asleep. Getting off his bed I replace the sheet and tiptoe out of the room. In the kitchen I prepare his afternoon tea which I will serve him in bed this afternoon.
It takes about 20 minutes to get everything ready. I put on my leather shorts and, as I already have the slave collar locked in place, I'm fully dressed. I take the tray up to his room, knock gently and enter. As I step inside I see the bed is now empty so I approach the bedside table thinking Sir is in the bathroom. I then hear the bedroom door swing closed behind me. Turning I find he is right there fully dressed in his leathers, gleaming boots and with six feet of bull whip which he slowly draws through his gloved hands. It gives me a start and I almost drop the tray but he's smiling and tells me to put it down on the table I was originally aiming for. I do this, turn and stand waiting for whatever is to come next. Inside my leather shorts I can feel my cock twitch and begin to erect, simply looking at him like that does it for me. My brain tells me to be careful, it's all too relaxed, and I have more than a sneaking suspicion that my conscience does well to be pricking.
"Go to the bed, see the manacles there?
"Yes Sir."
"Put them on your wrists behind your back."
"Sir."
It's not difficult, they are heavy steel wrist bands joined by about twelve inches of sturdy chain and as such I can put one on then pull the other one round and fix them as ordered. They have locking bolts to secure them which I can do with my fingers. I stand facing him, my wrists secured in shiny metal just behind my thighs and my stomach churning.
"I had quite a vivid dream this afternoon boi."
"Sir."
"Yes, not unpleasant but a bit unexpected."
I look at his feet.
"I could do with some help in understanding parts of it."
I nod.
"Any ideas?"
I remain silent and stare at the floor in front of me.
The bull whip has lashed across my chest before I even see his arm move. I yell in surprise as much as pain and buckle slightly.
"Did I say you could speak?"
"No Sir," gasping. The chain catches my thigh as I instinctively pull my wrists up to protect myself.
"Did I say you could move?"
"No Sir."
"Then don't!"
I look at him in the face. I spread my feet slightly and wait for the next crack of the whip. If I see it coming I can at least prepare. It comes. He's still got a smile at the edges of his mouth and the whip isn't as hard as it could be but this time it encircles my arms embedding it's tail under my left arm pit. That's a killer and I have great trouble stifling a yell through clenched teeth. I bend forward slightly then straighten up. I will not crumple!
"Still no ideas? I thought you may have one or two by now."
"Sir."
He swings his arm back and the plaited leather tail parts the still air of the room to burn its way into my chest. I see red wheals where the first two strokes bit into me. With a good lashing movement the plaits can open slightly before they land then compress again sometimes catching tiny edges of skin and pulling them away. He does not use the whip that hard today. There is no blood, just a burning pain.
I stand there. He knows, and he knows I know. Cat and mouse time. I have nothing to lose.
"Your tea Sir. It will get cold."
Crack.
And another. Five from a bull whip at medium strength doesn't sound exactly life threatening but having to stand still and take it, almost unbound, is not easy.
"Thank you boi. I'd almost forgotten. Stand still while I pour."
Saturday 26 November 2011
Wednesday 23 November 2011
The Cell
I relaxed a bit. I couldn't move apart from wriggling my fingers and blinking but I managed to relax somehow. I was tied face down on the bench. Upper arms, wrists, thighs and ankles were strapped tightly to the four legs whilst my lower back and neck were strapped to either end of the flat surface. My master was standing behind me beginning to relax as well, his still erect cock deep inside me was very slowly starting to reduce in size. Seconds before he had let out a loud roar as he pumped his hot spunk so far into me I thought I'd almost be able to taste it, but now he gently ran his fingers along the welts he had previously made before thrusting into me with such a passion it was all those thick leather straps could do to keep me in position. My back, arse and upper thighs were lined with deep red marks and spotted with blood where first the cavalry whip then the dragon cane had ploughed into my flesh. As I looked down I saw the wet patches on the stone flags where my screams had forced, with some pressure, my spit round the ball gag, which was so tightly buckled to my face that it was cutting into the corners of my mouth, to join the tears that had flowed down my cheeks and pooled together, slowly drying proof of my total submission.
I felt him withdraw, slowly and carefully. I breathed deeply. The end of another session and some relief until the next time he decided that he needed to wield the cane again. He walked round the bench and rubbed the back of my head before unbuckling my arms, one strap at a time. When I was free I started to reach forward to get the blood flowing again but he grabbed both my wrists and forced them behind me ordering me to keep them there. Almost immediately he slid the leather sleeve cuff over them, a strap holding them tight at my wrists and the leather lacing forcing my arms together more and more as he laced them higher and higher, nearer my elbows. As my neck was still held in position I had no way of arching my back, thus relieving the pressure on my shoulder blades somewhat. My breathing became forced and I moaned with the pain in my shoulders which were being forced up and together. He sometimes took me into his bed after a beating and fucking and sometimes I was tied so as to be ready for him to play with when he had rested, there being no danger of me playing with myself. Perhaps this was to be one of those times.
It was when he had finished lacing my arms that I realised this was not to be one of those times. He grabbed my balls from behind and pulled them between my legs adding my cock to the bundle with his other hand. Once he had them both in one palm he reached over and lifted the kneeler, carefully locking the centre cuff round them. It was at this point he started to unbuckle the other restraints I was pinioned with. When I was no longer held against the bench I was told to stand. This was not easy. I was rather uncertain of my balance and the kneeler behind my thighs was going to tug at my balls if I made any swift movements. Once free of the bench I had to kneel whilst Sir cuffed each end of the spreader bar to my ankles, I was now in no better a position than I had been a few minutes earlier, in fact it was marginally worse as although I could now move more any movement I made was both painful and potentially disastrous for my beloved genitalia. I had not got long to wait kneeling there as I was ushered across the room towards a small wooden door built into one of the cellar walls. "Oh God, not that cell," was my only thought at this point. It was a brick lined cube a bit under three feet square with small rings set into all the sides and floor which I hated. I'd boil there in summer and freeze in winter. In my present position it would kill my knees as I knelt there only able to make small shifts in position for any ease of back or legs. I moaned a bit through the ball gag which I still wore and got a sharp slap on my already marked arse. He pushed me forward until I was more or less totally inside the brick cell, reached forward and clipped small weights onto my nipples, looping the thin chain they were linked to to the ring on the floor. I was in pain from the start. It wasn't over warm but I was already showing small trickles of sweat down my back and over my face as I strained against the bondage restricting my arms and back. My leg muscles were screaming at me but I dare not move them, bricks and balls made my brain keep them still. My tits were now red hot, my neck was cramped, I felt like pleading and swearing at him both at the same time. "Please let me out. I've been beaten in both senses.I've given you all I have, I want to die." The saliva drooled from my mouth.
The door of the cell slammed shut.
The orgasm was wonderful.I had lubricated his hole with my fingers,working the gel into every part of his tight little fleshy tube before forcing my swollen cock inside him.It felt good to be inside him,buried deep to the hilt.I waited a minute because the sensation of the entry had moved me close to the brink,then I began a slow,rhyhmic reaming of him that brought little squeals from behind the tightly strapped ball gag that I had quite deliberately adjusted so that the hard black rubber ball was forced deep inside his mouth.I loved the vulnerability of him tied this way,the heavy black leather straps securing him to the punishment bench that had now become the fucking bench.
The bloody weals on his back,across his arse and horizontally across both thighs showed the tracks of both the vicious cavalry whip and the dragon cane,both of which had been used liberally in the run up to the fucking of him.Every stroke seemed to make my rampant cock harder until it threatened to burst from my skin tight black leather breeches.I sank deeply into him again fully to the hilt of my smooth,heavily veined cock.I imagined the head as it penetrated him,the hole at the tip dilated and ready to spill it's load of spunk, which I could tell from the sensations now coursing through my body would be very,very soon.
I heard the roar almost before I realised that it was me who was the source of it.Then the most wonderful feeling as the first spurt delivered my juices deep inside his body,a curious mixture of pleasure,love and a desire to hurt him merged together in a weird cocktail of swirling heady emotions.
I waited for the orgasm to subside and then zipped my temporarily flaccid cock back inside my breeches and considered what to do next.I knew what he would want.To be taken to my bed would be his choice,,preferably after a hot soapy bath and a massage,but I wanted to continue the delicious mind game,to push him to,and maybe beyond,his limits of endurance.
I made to comfort him,rubbing his head as I liked to do prior to a gentle,relaxing lovemaking session,knowing that it would lull him into a false sense of the next direction in which he would be taken.
I began to unstrap him from the bench but when he was more or less certain that things would move in the direction he desired I grabbed his arms,forcing them behind his back and secured them inside a leather single arm glove.I loved this cruel little device,the way the lacings,so easy to tighten translated with leveraged force into something that forced and pinioned his arms behind him in such a relentless manner.I began to stiffen again as I laced the glove up tight wrapping the restricting black leather tube to above his elbows and the securing the shoulder straps.He looked so good with the firm shoulder muscles distended by the pull of the glove and I felt the urge to fuck him once more,but resisted.I took the kneeler from the bench,feeling the chill of the cold steel on my fingers
Grabbed his genitals roughly I locked them into the steel holder before removing the key.He was now totally helpless once more.I picked up the leather leash from the table and clipped it to the D ring set in his leather slave collar and used it to pull him towards the timber door that covered the entrance to the punishment cell. sensing a resistance I picked up the cavalry whip and this was sufficient to ensure his instant compliance.
Effectively a bare brick cube, I had designed the cell to the smallest measurements possible to house the slave, just ninety centimetres in each direction it had been equipped with various steel securing rings which he had fitted on my instructions when I had forced him to build it. Like a man digging his own grave he had lovingly drilled into the brickwork and set the steel rawl bolts exactly where I had ordered them to be put with the intention of using their carefully calculated positions to torture him to the limit and beyond. I watched him crawl inside trying desperately not to make the steel kneeler pull too tightly on his balls.I knew what he would be thinking and,had he not been so effectively gagged he would probably have pleaded.with me for mercy.
I was tempted to remove the gag just to hear it,knowing how the humiliation of it would break him as,despite the fact that he would be one hundred per cent certain that his pleadings would not succeed he would still put himself through it,such was the effectiveness of my cell as a torture instrument.As a final parting gift to the slave I took a pair of weighted nipple clamps and pinched his flesh into peaks as I attached them before casually adding a couple of fairly substantial weights that he would be unable to prevent from dangling before him and adding just a little more to his agony.I shut the door and slid the bolt into position with a satisfying clunk.I had not decided upon the length of his confinement but I knew my cock would remain firm for virtually all the time as I thought about what my use of my power was doing to him as he waited in the darkness far below.My high laced boots reverberated on the stone steps as I left the dungeon,I knew the sound would be bitter music in his ears.
I found it satisfying in a decadent sort of way to sit and relax with a good white wine in my hand,all the time knowing that he was locked painfully into the punishment cell as I sipped the chilled sauvignon blanc and reflected on the sheer physical pleasure that I gained from my ownership of him.Of course the fucking was great whether I used his tight little arse or his talented mouth the result was always the same,a mind blowing orgasm of such quality that it quickly had me wanting more..And I loved the freedom that the deal I had cut with him gave me.It was a pretty straightforward one really,I did what I wanted to him and he took it.The tacit agreement was that I wouldn't maim or permanently harm him,but apart from that it was pretty much carte blanche. He had absolutely no right to object to whatever level of pain I saw fit to subject him to,that was very much my department.It had been difficult at first to come to terms with this freedom and I did feel pangs of guilt initially,but we had become close in every way and I came to understand that he wanted it that way. He saw his position as a slave as one in which it was his duty to suffer for his Master's pleasure.Once I had got my head completely around this it became easy to up the punishments.Whether I used one of the singletail whips,the Dragon cane or the electro torture kit the result was inevitably the same,a big sensuous long lasting hard on followed by a mind blowing orgasm with him swallowing all of my hot spunk like the little puppy dog he was,then coming back for more.
For my part of the deal I knew that I fitted the bill exactly for him.At six foot two and dressed in figure hugging black leather and high laced knee boots,how could I fail to? I pretty much represented his fetish fantasy Master and that made me feel so good inside. I glanced down and saw a minor scuff on the toe of my right boot just beneath the lace panel.I had most likely grazed the highly polished leather on the stairs .But nevertheless I made a mental note to beat him for it later.It wasn't his fault of course,it was just a scuff,but again it was part of the fantasy at the centre of our life together,it was the deal that we had made and we both knew that I didn't need an excuse to hurt him,what it did to my cock was quite sufficient a reason in itself.
I drained the last of the wine and glanced at my watch.It was just over an hour since I had left the dungeon and I had enough empathy to understand just how his muscles would be torturing him.The confinement within the tiny cube by itself would be quite enough but the fact that additionally he was wearing the single arm leather glove that I had hooked up to the roof bolt high behind him in the cage and that the kneeler held him by the genitals with his thighs splayed moved his situation well into the area of torture.
In a way it was worse than that for him though.Often the object of torture is to break the subject to obtain information or compliance.I needed neither from him and the torture was purely for my enjoyment.
When I unlatched the cell door I almost felt sorry for him. Tears streaked his face as the torment of the position had worn him down I guessed that all he could do was try to come to terms with the pain and sob.He now seemed broken even beyond that position and I felt my cock twitch as I looked upon his utter surrender.
I felt him withdraw, slowly and carefully. I breathed deeply. The end of another session and some relief until the next time he decided that he needed to wield the cane again. He walked round the bench and rubbed the back of my head before unbuckling my arms, one strap at a time. When I was free I started to reach forward to get the blood flowing again but he grabbed both my wrists and forced them behind me ordering me to keep them there. Almost immediately he slid the leather sleeve cuff over them, a strap holding them tight at my wrists and the leather lacing forcing my arms together more and more as he laced them higher and higher, nearer my elbows. As my neck was still held in position I had no way of arching my back, thus relieving the pressure on my shoulder blades somewhat. My breathing became forced and I moaned with the pain in my shoulders which were being forced up and together. He sometimes took me into his bed after a beating and fucking and sometimes I was tied so as to be ready for him to play with when he had rested, there being no danger of me playing with myself. Perhaps this was to be one of those times.
It was when he had finished lacing my arms that I realised this was not to be one of those times. He grabbed my balls from behind and pulled them between my legs adding my cock to the bundle with his other hand. Once he had them both in one palm he reached over and lifted the kneeler, carefully locking the centre cuff round them. It was at this point he started to unbuckle the other restraints I was pinioned with. When I was no longer held against the bench I was told to stand. This was not easy. I was rather uncertain of my balance and the kneeler behind my thighs was going to tug at my balls if I made any swift movements. Once free of the bench I had to kneel whilst Sir cuffed each end of the spreader bar to my ankles, I was now in no better a position than I had been a few minutes earlier, in fact it was marginally worse as although I could now move more any movement I made was both painful and potentially disastrous for my beloved genitalia. I had not got long to wait kneeling there as I was ushered across the room towards a small wooden door built into one of the cellar walls. "Oh God, not that cell," was my only thought at this point. It was a brick lined cube a bit under three feet square with small rings set into all the sides and floor which I hated. I'd boil there in summer and freeze in winter. In my present position it would kill my knees as I knelt there only able to make small shifts in position for any ease of back or legs. I moaned a bit through the ball gag which I still wore and got a sharp slap on my already marked arse. He pushed me forward until I was more or less totally inside the brick cell, reached forward and clipped small weights onto my nipples, looping the thin chain they were linked to to the ring on the floor. I was in pain from the start. It wasn't over warm but I was already showing small trickles of sweat down my back and over my face as I strained against the bondage restricting my arms and back. My leg muscles were screaming at me but I dare not move them, bricks and balls made my brain keep them still. My tits were now red hot, my neck was cramped, I felt like pleading and swearing at him both at the same time. "Please let me out. I've been beaten in both senses.I've given you all I have, I want to die." The saliva drooled from my mouth.
The door of the cell slammed shut.
The orgasm was wonderful.I had lubricated his hole with my fingers,working the gel into every part of his tight little fleshy tube before forcing my swollen cock inside him.It felt good to be inside him,buried deep to the hilt.I waited a minute because the sensation of the entry had moved me close to the brink,then I began a slow,rhyhmic reaming of him that brought little squeals from behind the tightly strapped ball gag that I had quite deliberately adjusted so that the hard black rubber ball was forced deep inside his mouth.I loved the vulnerability of him tied this way,the heavy black leather straps securing him to the punishment bench that had now become the fucking bench.
The bloody weals on his back,across his arse and horizontally across both thighs showed the tracks of both the vicious cavalry whip and the dragon cane,both of which had been used liberally in the run up to the fucking of him.Every stroke seemed to make my rampant cock harder until it threatened to burst from my skin tight black leather breeches.I sank deeply into him again fully to the hilt of my smooth,heavily veined cock.I imagined the head as it penetrated him,the hole at the tip dilated and ready to spill it's load of spunk, which I could tell from the sensations now coursing through my body would be very,very soon.
I heard the roar almost before I realised that it was me who was the source of it.Then the most wonderful feeling as the first spurt delivered my juices deep inside his body,a curious mixture of pleasure,love and a desire to hurt him merged together in a weird cocktail of swirling heady emotions.
I waited for the orgasm to subside and then zipped my temporarily flaccid cock back inside my breeches and considered what to do next.I knew what he would want.To be taken to my bed would be his choice,,preferably after a hot soapy bath and a massage,but I wanted to continue the delicious mind game,to push him to,and maybe beyond,his limits of endurance.
I made to comfort him,rubbing his head as I liked to do prior to a gentle,relaxing lovemaking session,knowing that it would lull him into a false sense of the next direction in which he would be taken.
I began to unstrap him from the bench but when he was more or less certain that things would move in the direction he desired I grabbed his arms,forcing them behind his back and secured them inside a leather single arm glove.I loved this cruel little device,the way the lacings,so easy to tighten translated with leveraged force into something that forced and pinioned his arms behind him in such a relentless manner.I began to stiffen again as I laced the glove up tight wrapping the restricting black leather tube to above his elbows and the securing the shoulder straps.He looked so good with the firm shoulder muscles distended by the pull of the glove and I felt the urge to fuck him once more,but resisted.I took the kneeler from the bench,feeling the chill of the cold steel on my fingers
Grabbed his genitals roughly I locked them into the steel holder before removing the key.He was now totally helpless once more.I picked up the leather leash from the table and clipped it to the D ring set in his leather slave collar and used it to pull him towards the timber door that covered the entrance to the punishment cell. sensing a resistance I picked up the cavalry whip and this was sufficient to ensure his instant compliance.
Effectively a bare brick cube, I had designed the cell to the smallest measurements possible to house the slave, just ninety centimetres in each direction it had been equipped with various steel securing rings which he had fitted on my instructions when I had forced him to build it. Like a man digging his own grave he had lovingly drilled into the brickwork and set the steel rawl bolts exactly where I had ordered them to be put with the intention of using their carefully calculated positions to torture him to the limit and beyond. I watched him crawl inside trying desperately not to make the steel kneeler pull too tightly on his balls.I knew what he would be thinking and,had he not been so effectively gagged he would probably have pleaded.with me for mercy.
I was tempted to remove the gag just to hear it,knowing how the humiliation of it would break him as,despite the fact that he would be one hundred per cent certain that his pleadings would not succeed he would still put himself through it,such was the effectiveness of my cell as a torture instrument.As a final parting gift to the slave I took a pair of weighted nipple clamps and pinched his flesh into peaks as I attached them before casually adding a couple of fairly substantial weights that he would be unable to prevent from dangling before him and adding just a little more to his agony.I shut the door and slid the bolt into position with a satisfying clunk.I had not decided upon the length of his confinement but I knew my cock would remain firm for virtually all the time as I thought about what my use of my power was doing to him as he waited in the darkness far below.My high laced boots reverberated on the stone steps as I left the dungeon,I knew the sound would be bitter music in his ears.
I found it satisfying in a decadent sort of way to sit and relax with a good white wine in my hand,all the time knowing that he was locked painfully into the punishment cell as I sipped the chilled sauvignon blanc and reflected on the sheer physical pleasure that I gained from my ownership of him.Of course the fucking was great whether I used his tight little arse or his talented mouth the result was always the same,a mind blowing orgasm of such quality that it quickly had me wanting more..And I loved the freedom that the deal I had cut with him gave me.It was a pretty straightforward one really,I did what I wanted to him and he took it.The tacit agreement was that I wouldn't maim or permanently harm him,but apart from that it was pretty much carte blanche. He had absolutely no right to object to whatever level of pain I saw fit to subject him to,that was very much my department.It had been difficult at first to come to terms with this freedom and I did feel pangs of guilt initially,but we had become close in every way and I came to understand that he wanted it that way. He saw his position as a slave as one in which it was his duty to suffer for his Master's pleasure.Once I had got my head completely around this it became easy to up the punishments.Whether I used one of the singletail whips,the Dragon cane or the electro torture kit the result was inevitably the same,a big sensuous long lasting hard on followed by a mind blowing orgasm with him swallowing all of my hot spunk like the little puppy dog he was,then coming back for more.
For my part of the deal I knew that I fitted the bill exactly for him.At six foot two and dressed in figure hugging black leather and high laced knee boots,how could I fail to? I pretty much represented his fetish fantasy Master and that made me feel so good inside. I glanced down and saw a minor scuff on the toe of my right boot just beneath the lace panel.I had most likely grazed the highly polished leather on the stairs .But nevertheless I made a mental note to beat him for it later.It wasn't his fault of course,it was just a scuff,but again it was part of the fantasy at the centre of our life together,it was the deal that we had made and we both knew that I didn't need an excuse to hurt him,what it did to my cock was quite sufficient a reason in itself.
I drained the last of the wine and glanced at my watch.It was just over an hour since I had left the dungeon and I had enough empathy to understand just how his muscles would be torturing him.The confinement within the tiny cube by itself would be quite enough but the fact that additionally he was wearing the single arm leather glove that I had hooked up to the roof bolt high behind him in the cage and that the kneeler held him by the genitals with his thighs splayed moved his situation well into the area of torture.
In a way it was worse than that for him though.Often the object of torture is to break the subject to obtain information or compliance.I needed neither from him and the torture was purely for my enjoyment.
When I unlatched the cell door I almost felt sorry for him. Tears streaked his face as the torment of the position had worn him down I guessed that all he could do was try to come to terms with the pain and sob.He now seemed broken even beyond that position and I felt my cock twitch as I looked upon his utter surrender.
Saturday 5 November 2011
slave time 2
At the top of the stairs we turned right, so it was to be the dungeon.
"Hands behind, palms together." Those words meant the start of a session that would be as erotic as it was painful. Sir was a master of the rope and quickly secured my wrists together in a way which meant it was impossible to escape but would not hinder the circulation. He wound the ropes higher and higher up my arms. Every new loop pulled my shoulders back and together a little more until my elbows were tied and my chest was taught making every breath a bit of a strain. Satisfied with me so far he tweaked my nipples "playfully" making me twist away as best I could and earning a slap across the face. Turning to the bench he picked up the kneeler and with his free hand grabbed my cock and balls, pulling them and twisting them so they could be locked into the centre fixing of the bar. After slowly getting me aroused even more than I already was he snapped the lock shut making sure that he didn't pinch the skin, wrong sort of pain, then told me to kneel down. Turning the bar to fit behind my thighs he then locked the end cuffs on to my ankles. This was a position that meant I was open for any and all the abuse he could administer. Totally at his mercy. He then slid back a small door that covered a recess in the wall and told me to crawl in. It was a bit less than three feet square and set into the thick brick foundations of the house. He had secured fixing rings at various points too so it could be a very small prison if necessary. I crawled forward until I was about to enter. He pulled on my arms to stop me, lacing a strap with a ball gag onto my collar and making sure the ball was well and truly in my mouth. Then he pulled a black fabric hood over my head, Pushing me forward he directed me into the hole in the wall. There he managed to fix a couple of clover clamps onto my chest and presumably then joined them by a chain to a ring on the brick floor as I felt excruciating pain pulling my tits every time I tried to move my body. The next thing he did was to tie my wrists to a cord hanging from the roof so my face was nearly touching my knees. The last thing was to shove a greasy finger up my arse. My mind leapt at the possibilities but suddenly realised that he was slowly pushing a metal plug into me. It was a slow purposeful strong hand that finally got it in position, me crying out through the gag with every centimetre. He slid the door shut and bolted it.
Now, you may think that was easy, a bit of tit torture and some bondage. However, in that position and after a very short time your muscles begin to cramp. You tend to make involuntary movements but every one of them hurts like hell somewhere else. You try to relax your back muscles, this pulls your tits, moving your lower body pulls your balls, any leg movement very nearly castrates you, arms cramp so you lift them up but this pulls your chest and so it goes on. Your body cries out for release and within half an hour I was sweating all over. Breathing was laboured anyway, the bag hood made it worse, damp with dribble from the gag and hot breath. The cell was rough on every side, old bare bricks. Knees burned with being rubbed sore on them
His final act was to turn the electro plug onto a slow vibration which turned on and off every couple of minutes. This kept me wanting to cum and made sure the kneeler was not going to fall off. It squeezed my erect cock making it all the more desperate for me to pull on it until I could finally orgasm. But I couldn't move a muscle without hurting myself somewhere.
I made my mind fall into the black hole which was all I could see in my imagination. The further I fell the less pain I felt. This worked until the plug kicked in again and shot me back to the present. I must have lasted like this for about an hour and a half before I heard the door slide back and a strong arm pulled me towards the opening. I felt the cold air as it hit my sweaty skin. As he pulled me out and untied,unlocked and unclipped me from the bondage I tried to straighten. This was the worst agony. Cramped, sore and now cold I could only stay knelt in front of him.
Thursday 3 November 2011
Slave Time pt. one
I rode into the drive, round past the garage and carefully placed the bike on its side stand before turning off the engine. It felt good, very good in fact, to experience the speed and freedom that the Fireblade gave me even for the hour or so that I was able to ride it at the weekend. Add to that the enhanced feeling I got from the tight all in one leather race suit that not only kept me safe but gave that superb leathery smell and rubbed over my skin in all the right places and I was generally quite erect when I finally swung my leg over the saddle. Being out on the road gave me my other persona; biker, bit hard, bit don't give a damn. Inside my head there was room for both that and the full time slave that I had become. I'd only been out for a matter of 75 minutes but I was already thinking of the pleasure I would get seeing my Master again. I found it fascinating that I could feel like this without actually thinking about it. It wasn't something that I had to construct in my mind, to mentally prepare for, it simply was there. I instinctively knew what I should do and what he would expect of me in my position as his property. I'd signed a contract which gave a sort of legality to the arrangement, permission if you like, showing that everything was quite voluntary and that either one of us could end things once and for all, permanently, but I'd never ever considered that possibility as happening.
As I walked in the back door the house was quiet. It was large. Old thick farmhouse walls kept it cool in summer and warm in winter and kept most sounds from escaping through to the outside world. I unbuckled my biking boots and slipped them off in the kitchen putting them away in a cupboard till the next time I had opportunity to wear them then climbed the carpeted stairs whilst unzipping the leathers, turning at the landing and ascending the final flight of wooden steps up to my own room.
My freedom was part of an unwritten agreement, the other part being my readiness to pleasure my Master in whatever way he willed for at least the same amount of time. Quid pro quo and most suitable in my mind although in reality he could have done anything he liked to me whenever he wanted.
I shed the heavy leathers, full of crash protective armour, stripped naked and resumed my role as his boi. I was wearing the leather slave collar, I rarely took this off on my ride so only had to strap on the leather thong, leash and calf length boots to be presentable. Now came the wait. Sometimes he would make me wait a good length of time, I even made some unnecessary noises once as I presumed he hadn't heard me return, but generally he judged the timing so well I was in position for less than a minute or so before I heard his boots approaching. I knelt facing the door with my nose touching the wooden floorboards, leash between my teeth, and breathing. I say breathing as this time was for me nerve wracking and I often held it in anticipation of what was to come.
His boots appeared under my face, shining that deep mirrored gloss I managed to get onto them, a task I adored. I carefully licked the toe and round the side of each boot feeling the cool leather on my tongue and breathing in that rich leathery polish smell they had. My cock warmed and grew with every new inch my mouth covered. He said various things to me at this point and I listened to a greater or lesser extent depending upon what he was doing. He could be tracing the outline of my shoulder blades with his gloved fingers or running the end of the riding crop up and down my spine. If he did this I was generally in another world as an animal might be whilst his owner was petting it. Sometimes he would simply slice the crop over my back whilst announcing the days amusements, I'd certainly be listening then, answering at precisely the correct moments as well as yelling at the burning cuts of the leather. In either case he would reach down and take the leash leading the way to the dungeon or his bedroom.
As I walked in the back door the house was quiet. It was large. Old thick farmhouse walls kept it cool in summer and warm in winter and kept most sounds from escaping through to the outside world. I unbuckled my biking boots and slipped them off in the kitchen putting them away in a cupboard till the next time I had opportunity to wear them then climbed the carpeted stairs whilst unzipping the leathers, turning at the landing and ascending the final flight of wooden steps up to my own room.
My freedom was part of an unwritten agreement, the other part being my readiness to pleasure my Master in whatever way he willed for at least the same amount of time. Quid pro quo and most suitable in my mind although in reality he could have done anything he liked to me whenever he wanted.
I shed the heavy leathers, full of crash protective armour, stripped naked and resumed my role as his boi. I was wearing the leather slave collar, I rarely took this off on my ride so only had to strap on the leather thong, leash and calf length boots to be presentable. Now came the wait. Sometimes he would make me wait a good length of time, I even made some unnecessary noises once as I presumed he hadn't heard me return, but generally he judged the timing so well I was in position for less than a minute or so before I heard his boots approaching. I knelt facing the door with my nose touching the wooden floorboards, leash between my teeth, and breathing. I say breathing as this time was for me nerve wracking and I often held it in anticipation of what was to come.
His boots appeared under my face, shining that deep mirrored gloss I managed to get onto them, a task I adored. I carefully licked the toe and round the side of each boot feeling the cool leather on my tongue and breathing in that rich leathery polish smell they had. My cock warmed and grew with every new inch my mouth covered. He said various things to me at this point and I listened to a greater or lesser extent depending upon what he was doing. He could be tracing the outline of my shoulder blades with his gloved fingers or running the end of the riding crop up and down my spine. If he did this I was generally in another world as an animal might be whilst his owner was petting it. Sometimes he would simply slice the crop over my back whilst announcing the days amusements, I'd certainly be listening then, answering at precisely the correct moments as well as yelling at the burning cuts of the leather. In either case he would reach down and take the leash leading the way to the dungeon or his bedroom.
Tuesday 1 November 2011
How I Got Here
Becoming a Sadist isn't something you really think about,it's not a calculated thing.In fact at first I doubted that I fitted the criteria,but as time goes on I begin to realise that it is something deep within me,a part of my personality that I cannot deny exists,even if I wanted to.
There is no shadow of doubt in my mind that he has brought it out in me.Before we met it was a casual daydream rather than a deep seated need,now whenever I look at him,when I take in the delectable curve of his back,the neat muscular shoulders.I hanker to inflict pain upon him,to break him and hear him sob.As much as anything I suppose it is because I know that to offer his total submission to me is so hard for him to do,quite possibly this is more on a psychological level than a physical one.
His obedience doesn't buy him any credit with me.I am not that kind of Master.What I do to him isn't motivated by wanting to punish him for anything he has or hasn't done,it is the sheer pleasure that hurting and controlling him gives me.It's completely unlike anything else I have ever known.
The pleasure begins long before we even meet.Reclining in a hot,soapy bath the thoughts of what lies ahead come to me and my cock rises out of the water.Lacing on the wonderfully comfortable hand made boots over my tight leathers continues the process.By the time I draw up the zipper of the skin tight jeans the scene is under way,my cock now semi-erect,nestles neatly down,creating a bulge in the gleaming black leather just above my right thigh and before long the juice begins to flow.The sensuous feel of my erection is wonderful.Maintained over a period of time the seeping juice creates a little damp patch on the surface of the taut black leather that pinpoints the spot where eventually the spunk will spill out like a fountain, but for now it is contained.
The dressing continues.A torso hugging black leather vest with narrow straps that display my powerful shoulders goes on next.Two thousand strokes a day in the pool maintains their condition and has created the right curves in the right places.I feel alive in a way I never did before he came.The exercise of dressing now gains purpose as I continue to create that vision of a Master that he knows he has no alternative but to offer his total submission to.
I strap on the studded wrist protectors,foot long leather tubes that run from the cuffs of my gloves at the wrist up to the elbows.They look gladitorial,the black leather contrasting with my bare upper arms.Finally the face mask.Soft black leather moulds itself to the shape of my head,leaving just the lower half of my face and my eyes exposed.The effect is theatrical to an extent,but no less potent for all that.Most men who have been confronted with a man wearing one of these masks have either had but minutes to live or were on their way down to a dungeon where the prospect of death would soon be viewed as the best option compared to the remaining life that was filled with agony.Limbs torn from the body on a rack,flesh burned with red hot irons,these deeds carried out with relish by a strong,sadistic man dressed in such a manner.
I love and savour the fear it engenders in him to see me in such attire,and this is,I suppose,part of my finely honed sadism,crafted perfectly to his psyche and designed for me to extract the most from him.I am fully aware of the image I have created and similarly as I walk slowly along the corridor that leads to his room I realise that he will be alert to the sound of each footstep.The strong morning sunlight from tthe windows I pass reflects in brilliant mobile pools on the surface of the leather and every time my boot sole makes contact with the floor it sends out a message for him to hear.A message that says that his time is running out.
I enter his room and take in the now familiar scene.It is no less arousing for it's familiarity.I take in his head,the face pressed obediently to the bare floor in the manner in which he has been trained to do.The black leather slave collar with it's silver steel D rings is in place with it's leash attached at the throat,the looped handle gripped between his teeth just as he has been taught that his Master requires of him .His feet are spread out wide apart behind him in the neat calf length boots and the only other item of clothing he wears is the soft black leather pouch that cups his balls and just about contains his now erect cock.Despite his growing fear the eroticism of his situation isn't lost on him.
Casually I step up to place a boot just beneath his face and,without any further prompting he leans forward to caress the leather with his tongueOnce again his actions are those of a slave who has been perfectly trained to please.I cannot contain my pleasure at this and bend forward to massage his skull with my gloved hand.The action conveys to him the assurance that whatever he is about to suffer his Master loves and cherishes him.The contradiction is an obvious one but he understands it as well as I do.Love isn't just about kisses,caresses and embraces.It can equally be the kiss of the whip,the caress of an accurately wielded singletail and the embrace of the sturdy leather straps that hold him in a vice like grip while he receives the punishment that will take us to the very brink of ecstasy even as the cruel leather tail cuts crimson lines in his flesh.
I take the handle of the leash and give it a gentle tug.He gets the message that I send and his mouth follows my long legs upwards until he arrives at the leather crotch wiith it's now very obvious bulge.His soft kisses feel good enough through leather but when I release my cock and his lips eagerly encircle the head the pleasure explodes throughout my brain.His eager tongue is working hard now,flicking a bead of sweet pre cum from the tip of my cock he swallows it greedily.He knows that all of Master's bodily fluids are for him and him only.My head is thrown back in pleasure as he stimulates me in a way that nobody before has ever quite managed,my cock engorged to such an extent that it feels it must burst.Reluctantly I withdraw from his mouth and zip my cock back beneath the leather carapace,for now.
I need to hurt him,to hear his sobs of frustration as he realises that the only way he can ease the exponentially increasing pain that I intend to inflict upon him is to beg.And I know that this has the ability to hurt him as much as the pain does.As I lead him down to the dungeon on all fours I know how the spider feels as he wraps his prey in the web,the erection once more throbs between my legs.
There is no shadow of doubt in my mind that he has brought it out in me.Before we met it was a casual daydream rather than a deep seated need,now whenever I look at him,when I take in the delectable curve of his back,the neat muscular shoulders.I hanker to inflict pain upon him,to break him and hear him sob.As much as anything I suppose it is because I know that to offer his total submission to me is so hard for him to do,quite possibly this is more on a psychological level than a physical one.
His obedience doesn't buy him any credit with me.I am not that kind of Master.What I do to him isn't motivated by wanting to punish him for anything he has or hasn't done,it is the sheer pleasure that hurting and controlling him gives me.It's completely unlike anything else I have ever known.
The pleasure begins long before we even meet.Reclining in a hot,soapy bath the thoughts of what lies ahead come to me and my cock rises out of the water.Lacing on the wonderfully comfortable hand made boots over my tight leathers continues the process.By the time I draw up the zipper of the skin tight jeans the scene is under way,my cock now semi-erect,nestles neatly down,creating a bulge in the gleaming black leather just above my right thigh and before long the juice begins to flow.The sensuous feel of my erection is wonderful.Maintained over a period of time the seeping juice creates a little damp patch on the surface of the taut black leather that pinpoints the spot where eventually the spunk will spill out like a fountain, but for now it is contained.
The dressing continues.A torso hugging black leather vest with narrow straps that display my powerful shoulders goes on next.Two thousand strokes a day in the pool maintains their condition and has created the right curves in the right places.I feel alive in a way I never did before he came.The exercise of dressing now gains purpose as I continue to create that vision of a Master that he knows he has no alternative but to offer his total submission to.
I strap on the studded wrist protectors,foot long leather tubes that run from the cuffs of my gloves at the wrist up to the elbows.They look gladitorial,the black leather contrasting with my bare upper arms.Finally the face mask.Soft black leather moulds itself to the shape of my head,leaving just the lower half of my face and my eyes exposed.The effect is theatrical to an extent,but no less potent for all that.Most men who have been confronted with a man wearing one of these masks have either had but minutes to live or were on their way down to a dungeon where the prospect of death would soon be viewed as the best option compared to the remaining life that was filled with agony.Limbs torn from the body on a rack,flesh burned with red hot irons,these deeds carried out with relish by a strong,sadistic man dressed in such a manner.
I love and savour the fear it engenders in him to see me in such attire,and this is,I suppose,part of my finely honed sadism,crafted perfectly to his psyche and designed for me to extract the most from him.I am fully aware of the image I have created and similarly as I walk slowly along the corridor that leads to his room I realise that he will be alert to the sound of each footstep.The strong morning sunlight from tthe windows I pass reflects in brilliant mobile pools on the surface of the leather and every time my boot sole makes contact with the floor it sends out a message for him to hear.A message that says that his time is running out.
I enter his room and take in the now familiar scene.It is no less arousing for it's familiarity.I take in his head,the face pressed obediently to the bare floor in the manner in which he has been trained to do.The black leather slave collar with it's silver steel D rings is in place with it's leash attached at the throat,the looped handle gripped between his teeth just as he has been taught that his Master requires of him .His feet are spread out wide apart behind him in the neat calf length boots and the only other item of clothing he wears is the soft black leather pouch that cups his balls and just about contains his now erect cock.Despite his growing fear the eroticism of his situation isn't lost on him.
Casually I step up to place a boot just beneath his face and,without any further prompting he leans forward to caress the leather with his tongueOnce again his actions are those of a slave who has been perfectly trained to please.I cannot contain my pleasure at this and bend forward to massage his skull with my gloved hand.The action conveys to him the assurance that whatever he is about to suffer his Master loves and cherishes him.The contradiction is an obvious one but he understands it as well as I do.Love isn't just about kisses,caresses and embraces.It can equally be the kiss of the whip,the caress of an accurately wielded singletail and the embrace of the sturdy leather straps that hold him in a vice like grip while he receives the punishment that will take us to the very brink of ecstasy even as the cruel leather tail cuts crimson lines in his flesh.
I take the handle of the leash and give it a gentle tug.He gets the message that I send and his mouth follows my long legs upwards until he arrives at the leather crotch wiith it's now very obvious bulge.His soft kisses feel good enough through leather but when I release my cock and his lips eagerly encircle the head the pleasure explodes throughout my brain.His eager tongue is working hard now,flicking a bead of sweet pre cum from the tip of my cock he swallows it greedily.He knows that all of Master's bodily fluids are for him and him only.My head is thrown back in pleasure as he stimulates me in a way that nobody before has ever quite managed,my cock engorged to such an extent that it feels it must burst.Reluctantly I withdraw from his mouth and zip my cock back beneath the leather carapace,for now.
I need to hurt him,to hear his sobs of frustration as he realises that the only way he can ease the exponentially increasing pain that I intend to inflict upon him is to beg.And I know that this has the ability to hurt him as much as the pain does.As I lead him down to the dungeon on all fours I know how the spider feels as he wraps his prey in the web,the erection once more throbs between my legs.
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