Mind Wandering

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.