Date: Wed, 6 Jul 2005 11:30:23 +0100 From: Story Teller Subject: Finn The Skin, Gay/ Authoritarian The following story is fiction. This means that I have no practical knowledge of the practices I have written about, nor do I know anyone who has indulged in such practices. It is imperative, therefore that readers accept that I am not advocating the use of pain or violence as a means to sexual satisfaction, the story is written as a fantasy and should be accepted as such. The story runs to nine chapters so it is my intention to post in three messages of three chapters over the next few days. The usual copyright rules do apply and all comments are welcome, however as the story is completed. messages requesting how the story should proceed or finish will be a bit pointless. FINN THE SKIN Chapter One I should start by explaining the name. My given name is Findlay James Robertson Wilson, quite a mouthful isn't it, and have been called Finn since childhood: born into a good middle-class family somewhere near the bottom of a line of old money but with good modern-thinking parents. I was sent to a "Good" fee-paying school where I excelled at everything, I was a gifted child. Being a boys-only school, there was a bit of fiddling and feeling-up went on among the pupils, which I joined in with pleasure, but I assumed that, like most others, it was only a stopgap until I had the chance to enjoy the pleasures of a female. I was always strong-willed and stubborn and my parents tended to allow me a free rein knowing that I would settle back down after a short time, and I suppose that was the thinking when I was 15 and got my hair cut. The school had certain standards of dress, which they pursued vigorously, especially with the uniform, which consisted of the school blazer and tie, white shirt, black trousers and black shoes. One day at Inspection (they carried them out at irregular intervals) I was told that my hair was too long (It was reaching my collar). I just said "OK" and made a mental note to have it cut the next weekend, but the master hounded me every day about it, so on the following Saturday I went to a barber's and got a No. 2 cut. The effect at school was astounding; it was as if I had got a purple Mohican the way teachers reacted. I was told that I must let it grow to a "Suitable length" before having it trimmed again and I decided to dig my heels in, pointing out that while the school had rules against long hair, there was nothing written about short hair. I was threatened with suspension so I said I would have my head shaved and look like half the teachers (the bald ones). At this stage my father stepped in and threatened a lawsuit against the school and the education authority. Since they couldn't fault my work or attendance, they backed down. That's when I studied the rulebook more closely. Black footwear, not sand-shoes or trainers was the rule, so I bought a pair of Doc Martens. Trousers, black, and no jeans: so I shortened my trousers by six inches. The headmaster went ballistic, accusing me of undermining his authority, lowering standards, being a bad example to younger boys and so on. I only did it to annoy the authorities, and my parents, while disliking the look were willing to allow me to express myself. A strange thing happened, however, I liked how I looked. Not in my school uniform (I looked a bit stupid, to be honest) but at weekends when I normally wore jeans and tee shirts anyway. Suddenly I had response from others, sometimes good, sometimes bad, and I loved both. Gradually I allowed my trousers to have a more "reasonable" length and stopped wearing the D.M.'s to school, but I kept my No.2 shortened my Levi's and my weekend wardrobe changed completely. By the time I was 17 and about to go to university I had my first two tattoos and my ear pierced (another drama at school, there was a rule against that, but since I was leaving soon and had the best marks in my year, it was allowed to pass). I had also discovered that my interest in other males wasn't a passing phase; in fact I was getting more and more into playing around with guys. One day I just decided that this was for me and announced to my parents that I was gay. I don't know whether they thought it another phase, but they just accepted it so I announced it at school too. The shit REALLY hit the fan, I was threatened with all sorts of punishments, but I hinted that if expelled I would name a certain teacher who had "Interfered" with me (there wasn't one). I had my exam results so I just left a few weeks early. I was travelling into town one day on the train and this guy kept eyeing up my crotch. The compartment was quiet, just a couple sitting at the other end, so I started to re-arrange myself, firstly by groping myself, then finally slipping my hand inside my waistband and pulling myself to one side (slipping it out of my underpants). Gradually it got hard and grew down the inside of my trousers: the poor guy couldn't take his eyes off it. He was pawing at himself and licking his lips, so I popped two buttons. He moved to sit opposite me and put his hand over but I knocked him away so he took his own dick out and started to pull on it "I like the look of that", he said, "I wouldn't mind that thing up my arse". I had never fucked anyone before, just mutual wanking, and one guy sucked me off, so I was really tempted. "It'll cost you a fiver," I said. I don't know why, I didn't need the money, I didn't even know what the going price was, but it seemed like a good idea. "Done", he said, "Get off at the next station". I assumed he lived there, but when we got off he walked me over to a big park and we went up into the trees. He was on me like a limpet, pulling at my jeans, getting them down to my knees and sucking on my cock. Even at 17 I had a 7" uncut dick (I have since added 1/2") and he liked every fraction of it. Finally he dropped his trousers and bent forward offering his arse to me. I started to push into him but he pulled away. "For fuck sake, wet it first", he said, so I spat on my hand and rubbed it on my dick then tried again. I don't know why he wanted the spit, I practically fell in, but it was good, far better than just wanking, better even than being sucked. It didn't take long for me to finish and as I pulled out he turned to me, stuck his dick towards me and said, "Here, finish me off". "Fuck off", I said, "That wasn't in the deal, just give me my money" "You don't get paid unless you toss me off", he said". I walked over took his balls in my hand and squeezed until he squealed and said, "Give me my fucking money or you'll never get a hard-on again". He pulled out a purse (Fuck, I HATE men with a purse) and took out a £5 note and handed it to me. I was tempted to take more, but instead I just let his balls go and looked into his eyes. I could see him shrink in front of me until he had to turn his head. I stood my ground and he pulled his trousers up and walked away, not looking back until he was nearly at the gates. I hadn't moved an inch. I couldn't believe the feeling of power I had, I had made that guy terrified just by looking at him. It was as good as the feeling I had when I fucked him, and I loved it. Having discovered how good it felt to fuck a man I looked a bit harder and found that there were plenty of guys willing to open up for a 6'1" 17 year old skinhead, most of them a lot tighter than the first guy. I was shagging anything that looked twice at me as long as it was male, and I was always threatening in my style while doing it. One day I met a guy about 30-35 years old in a toilet and he asked me if I wanted to go back to his place. Playing Mr Cool, I shrugged and said OK, but laid the ground rules, "I don't suck, I don't get fucked, I might play with your dick". "That's OK", he said, "Suits me fine". He took me back to a house in a quiet street and when we went in I could tell straight away that he was married with kids. This surprised me at the time, I thought guys were either one thing or the other, and I wondered if it was some kind of trap or something. I soon relaxed when we went into the bedroom and he stripped naked, lay on his back, lifted his legs and said "OK, big boy, give it to me", (I know, corny or what). I spat on my hand, but he said "No, do it dry". I pulled back my skin and put my dickhead against his puckered arse and pushed. It was harder without the lube, but I got it in and gradually my own precum and his sweat made it a lot easier. I picked up my pace and started to pound into him, but he kept saying, "Faster, harder, hurt me". By this time I was sweating with effort but he wanted more. Finally he said, "Hit me" I was stunned by this, but he kept saying it. "Hit me, punch me, slap me". At first I sort of gave a play-punch to his chest, but he wanted it harder, so I put more strength into it. I was punching on his chest and gut almost as hard as I could. He called me a dirty poof and I slapped his face as hard as I could. He moaned so much, I hit the other cheek then kept slapping all over his body and legs, I pulled out of his arse and slapped it about eight times then stuck my prick right in again. He started to moan again and shot a load of spunk up over himself. I fired my load into him then pulled out. He got up immediately and looked at himself in a mirror. His body was all red and there was a trace of blood oozing from one corner of his mouth. "Beautiful", he said, "Really beautiful" I just lay on the bed trying to put my thoughts in order. I had really hurt that guy and he enjoyed it. I couldn't understand it but I knew I wanted to do it again. It was the same feeling as when I looked threatening, but multiplied by ten. I had discovered that not only did I like fucking men; I liked it more if it was done roughly, and I had also discovered that actually hitting someone felt a lot better than just looking as if I might. Things were definitely looking up. Chapter Two A few weeks later, I was standing in a gay bar looking around. By now I had discarded tee shirts for polo shirts and a belt for braces, so I was attracting a some attention I was just discovering the gay scene and I wasn't sure that I liked it: there seemed to be a lot of very effeminate men about, which really put me off. I recognised the married man I had fucked standing in a corner and when he saw me he came hurrying over. He wanted to buy me a drink, he wanted to tell me what a great "master" I was, which I didn't fully understand and he wanted to tell me that he had told a friend about me and the friend was really keen to meet me. I wasn't sure at first but he assured me that his friend was very much into the same as him so I said, "OK". He told me his name was Jack and his friend was called Freddy then he telephoned his friend to say we were on our way and we left the pub and got a taxi to a very good part of town. We arrived at a large detached house and rang the bell, which was answered by a guy who looked about 45, 5'10"tall and was about a stone overweight. He was totally naked except for a leather jockstrap and a dog collar and he started "Oooing" and "Aaaing" at me and pawing my crotch so I slapped him away. He dropped to his knees and started licking my boots and begging me to forgive him and asking me to follow him. He led us to a back room without windows, which was decorated totally in black. There were some bars against one wall with restraints attached and another wall was fitted with racks holding whips, chains and canes. Another part had various cuffs and restraints along with leather blindfolds and masks. The third rack had different sized dildoes and plugs lined up in order of size. In the centre of the room was a table with metal restraints attached to one end and a leather sling hanging from a beam. I didn't know what half of it was for, but I was really turned on just looking at it. Freddy asked me what experience I had had with S&M and after he explained what that stood for I had to admit that my only experience had been with Jack. He then explained carefully about code words, what they were for and when to use them. His choice was "Amber" and "Red", Amber meaning pause, slow down, let me get myself together before continuing: Red meaning Stop. He explained the importance of mutual trust, of the danger of getting carried away, and when he was sure I understood, he said "Well, Sir, if you are willing, shall we start?" I was well up for it so he took me over to the racks and selected a three-stranded whip about 4' long with a shaped handle. Each strand was a strip of leather about 1cm thick and 2cm wide. "I would like it, Sir, if you would deliver 12 strokes of this whip across my bare arse", he said. "When you have done this you can decide for yourself what else you wish to do." At that he laid his body across the table with his arse at the end and his legs dangling. I threshed the air a couple of times to get the feel of it then I swung it round and brought it down across his arse as hard as I could. The bastard didn't even flinch, even though two welts came up immediately. I aimed lower and whipped him again causing the flesh on his arse to ripple. After hitting him five times I realised he was watching and waiting for each blow so I went over to the wall and got a blindfold and put it over his eyes, then I delivered the other seven lashes, by which time his arse was one complete mass of red. Freddy quietly said "Amber" so I stopped and stepped back. He reminded me that he was now in my hands; so I went back to the rack and selected single-strand woven leather whip about 5' long. It was semi-rigid and felt good in my hand. I went back to the table and brought it down quickly across the middle of his back and he screamed for the first time, begging "Please, Sir, not my back, please" I stepped back for a second but realised he hadn't used a code word so I hit him again. This whip left a more distinct mark, not only raising a welt but also showing tiny spots of blood. He was making a lot of noise and I considered gagging him but I liked the sound of him suffering. He kept putting his hands around to try to protect him so I pulled his arms forward and secured him with the restraints. I got a medium sized dildo and rammed it up his arse telling him that if he let it slip out I would stop, then I hit him three times more. He called "Amber" and said that he didn't know if he could go on. I removed the blindfold and let him see me undress and when he saw my dick he wanted more. I blindfolded him again and got a cane, it was excellent. Going back to his arse it was raising fresh welts across the mass of red, making him yelp like a dog and making me hard as fuck. Jack was standing in a corner watching all of this with his dick in his hand and a look of want on his face. I called him over, cuffed his hands behind his back, blindfolded him and sent him back to the corner. I saw that the end of the table had pull-out extensions to support his legs so I set them up and when he was laid out I was able to take the cane across the back of his legs. I uncuffed him and turned him onto his back then fastened him down again. I saw that his dick was only about 3 ½-4" long but his balls were about twice the size of anything I had seen before. I grabbed onto them and pulled hard and couldn't believe how far they stretched, I was able to twist them several times before he screamed. His nipples were also big, I knew nothing of pumps and things then, and I grabbed each one and pulled and twisted on them. I knew that it would not be possible to beat a man's chest as hard as his back, but I got two leather laces from the shelf and whipped his chest, tits and cock and balls. I tied one lace around each nipple and pulled on them with one hand while pulling his balls with the other. I got another lace and put it around his balls and managed to tie them together, the nipples pulling down and the balls pulling up, then I raised his legs on the rests and hit him with the cane across the arse several times. Every time I hit him his body arched pulling both tits and balls at the same time. By this time he was just whimpering saying "No more" then "Yes". Finally he called Amber and said that he would need a rest if I wanted to continue, but pleaded for me to fuck him, to give him my dick. I removed his blindfold then dragged Jack over and made him kneel over Freddy's face, unfastening his cuffs but warning him against touching Freddy in any way. I got behind him and rammed my dick into his arse as hard as I could. I did this 4 or 5 times, withdrawing fully each time, then settled into a steady fuck. All the time Freddy was whimpering, "No, no, do me, please, PLEASE" I came pretty fast and when I withdrew my dick was really dirty. Freddy reached up with his mouth to take it in his mouth. I let him almost reach before pulling it back and wiping it off on Jack's arse then got off the table. Freddy started pleading "Sit on me, Jack, let me have his juice" As I got dressed, I could here Freddy sucking, lapping and felching at Jack's arse. I opened the door and said "I'll let myself out" Chapter Three The next few weeks were pretty busy getting ready to go to university, where I was to study law, but I was also working on my look. My hair was now in a No.1, which I trimmed twice a week. I also stood in front of a mirror for hours practicing my stare, how to hold a cigarette properly, how to get my bulge showing to best advantage. Of course, although I didn't realise it then, I still wasn't a skinhead, just a guy wearing skin gear, but I liked how I looked and wanted to make the most of it. My various Levis were each washed and pressed after ever wear and my boots were constantly shining. One day walking down the road, a BMW pulled up beside me and when I looked round, Freddy was sitting in the back seat. To be honest, in a crowd I wouldn't have recognised him, he was wearing a very well cut navy suit a white shirt with a silk tie and gold cuff links. He lowered the window and said "Excuse me, young master, but I have been driving around this area for two days looking for you, could I have a word with you? Would you join me for lunch at The Palace? (a really good restaurant/hotel a few miles away). I agreed and he opened the door for me to get in. . He immediately explained that he wanted to thank me for my performance and also to offer some advice. I looked towards the driver and Freddy laughed and said, "Don't worry, that is Robert, my minder. He runs my house, drives me around and takes care of my needs". Robert was about28-30, 6'2" tall and Italian looking. "Robert is versatile", Freddy said, "He can take pain and dish it out." Robert gave a half smile and kept driving but I could see him studying me in the mirror. We had a nice lunch, me talking about my plans for University and after, and Freddy telling me something of his life as a businessman. He was an investor with serious money in some very good companies. After dessert we had a large brandy each and Freddy finally got down to business. He explained that he had been very impressed by my abilities, especially accounting for my age, but that I had a lot to learn if I wished to develop my talents. He told me that he had a Master visit him regularly and proposed that I attend the next session in three days time. He assured me that my involvement would be as much as Master Tom would allow or as little as I wanted, but I would have a chance to learn in a way that would take many months from reading. I readily agreed. Three days later I went, as invited, to Freddy's house and the door was opened by Robert wearing leather trousers, biker boots a harness and a Muir Cap (as I later found it to be called). He showed me through to the lounge where Freddy was lying naked on the floor licking a guy's boots. He introduced me to the guy giving his name as Master Tom, but I decided there and then that he wasn't, nor ever would be, my master, so I stuck my hand out and said "Hi, Tom, good to meet you". He shook my hand heartily then stood back to eye me up. I returned the look and was impressed, although he wasn't at all my type. He was about 40, taller than me and about 18 stone of muscle. He was wearing a metallic codpiece with leather chaps and waistcoat. He was exceptionally hairy and both nipples were pierced. He ordered Freddy on to his knees and made him crawl to the playroom. As we walked through, Robert felt my arse, so I turned and gave him a look that said, "DON'T". In the playroom Tom offered me a leather jockstrap if I wanted to wear it so I went out, stripped off completely, put the jockstrap on then put my DM's back on and went into the room. Tom started to talk to me like a kind teacher explaining a science experiment. He explained the different effects of tying someone down or suspending him, then the variations of both, tying to a bench as I had done, putting into the sling, fastening to the wall or, as he had decided upon this time, cuffing to a pulley. Meantime Freddy was standing back, eyes down, completely naked. A rope was loosened from a wall hook and a pair of padded cuffs were lowered from the ceiling. They were closed around Freddy's wrists then Robert started to hoist him stopping only when his toes barely touched the floor. Tom invited me to choose a whip and make the first strike. I selected a riding crop and lashed at Freddy with all my strength making him gasp. As I raised the crop again, Tom caught my wrist and said, "Firstly, I offered the first strike. Secondly, I want to explain what you did wrong. You chose a severe whip and hit him with force. After a dozen of those, anyone would be calling 'Red' and ending your fun. You must start gradually, warming him up, and then he is yours for hours. With the best training and long experience you can use a body for a week or more" He took the riding crop back to the rack and picked up a long leather whip with three or four short tails on the end. Standing well back he swung the whip to the side then cracked it forward so that it just kissed Freddy's arse. He flicked it back several times and did the same thing, each time hitting a different part of each buttock. Then he swung it again wrapping it round Freddy's waist and upper body. The strange thing was, he was hardly making a mark. He then ordered Freddy to be lowered and he pulled a leather-covered 'horse' forward and bent Freddy over it securing his hands and ankles on either side with his arse straddling the top. He took the three-stranded whip I had used the first time and went back to work Laying into that arse, lower back and upper legs. Again he wasn't doing it really hard, just marking him and no more, but he must have hit him about 30 times. During all of this he kept up a running commentary on what he was doing, explaining techniques and effects. When Freddy was nice and crimson, he loosened the ties and led him to the table, secured him face-up and then ordered Robert to fetch candles. He got a gag from the wall and fastened it over Freddy's mouth and told me of hand signals to watch for when the person couldn't speak. He lit a candle and let it burn for a few moments. Holding it high above a nipple he tilted it slowly and dribbled the wax over the nipple, explaining that if you hold the candle high, most of the heat has left the wax before it hits the body. On the other hand, holding the candle low means maximum heat and maximum pain. With that he lowered the candle and dropped wax on the other nipple causing Freddy to buck and moan. He lit another candle and gave it to me inviting me to experiment on the upper body. He, meantime, started to drizzle the wax over Freddy's dick and balls, altering the height with each drop. After a while he stopped and let the wax harden, then he proceeded to pull it off roughly, pulling pubic hairs with the wax. As I was watching all of this, and getting more and more excited, I felt Robert touch my arse again, this time trying to finger me. I turned quickly and hit him square on the jaw, knocking him to the floor. As he scrambled to get at me Tom stepped between us and quietly said to me "I wonder if we could have a word outside". I followed him into the hallway and he turned on me with fire in his voice and said "Firstly, Don't EVER lose your temper in a playroom when you have control of another being, that's what leads to accidents, death and prison. Secondly, if you want to go around punching people, get yourself some muscle, you're in good shape but you need a lot more work to get you fit." I started to say that I was fit enough to floor Robert but he shut me up and said "You got a lucky punch when he wasn't expecting it, if I hadn't stepped in he would have beaten you to a pulp. OK, lets go back, but first, I want an apology, you upset my training, I won't have that, Understand?" It stuck in my throat but I managed to say that I was wrong and I was sorry. He smiled, we went back into the playroom and he turned on Robert, calling him a shitty second-rate assistant who should know better and threatening not only to expel him from future training, but also to order Freddy to sack him. I don't know if Freddy would have done it, but he obviously thought it a possibility. He knelt before Tom begging forgiveness and promising to be better. Tom told him to apologise to me and he crawled to my feet uttering the same apologies. Tom told him to stand against the wall bars, hands on his head. He picked up the three-stranded whip and said "Six Lashes", then he handed me the whip, saying that it was not fun but a punishment. I stepped to the side of him and brought the whip across his arse with force. Six times I whipped him and six times he said "Thankyou, Sir". I turned and put the whip back on its rack and Tom told him he could return to watch. We unfastened Freddy and he was put across the 'Horse' again. Tom got a chain with weights attached and fastened it around Freddy's balls then got tit-clamps and fitted them, then chose a lash made of about twenty narrow leather strips and started whipping Freddy hard all over his back and arse, this time with more force than before, almost like beating a carpet. He stopped after about twenty lashes and knelt to examine Freddy's arse, sticking several fingers in and turning them. He then went to Freddy's head and did the same to his mouth. "Heads or Tails", he asked. Thinking he was going to toss a coin, I said "Heads" but he just said "OK, and took his codpiece off, went behind Freddy and rammed his dick into him. Realising I had "heads", I put my hand under Freddy's chin, raised his head and stuck my dick into his mouth and down his throat. He gagged a bit but kept it in, partly because he was being pushed onto it from the other end by Tom. I was able to fuck his mouth and reach under and grab onto the tit clamps and pull on them. I was enjoying this but really wanted an arse, mouth work is OK for starters but I know how I like to finish. I was going to suggest a swap with Tom when I remembered Robert standing behind me. I turned and said "You, on the table, stripped, legs up, NOW" He dropped his trousers and lay on the table, hands behind his knees. Tom winked at me and I drew my dick out of Freddy's mouth, went to the table and stuck it into Robert. It felt really hot, probably from the whipping. While I fucked him I could watch Tom at work, pounding his meat into Freddy then stopping. Starting again, drawing it right out then sticking it back. He was sticking two of his fingers into Freddy, stretching him wider as he fucked him. I was getting nearer and nearer to climax but wanted to hold back until Tom came. Finally I could see that he was nearing a climax and I picked up my own speed. I shot a healthy load into Robert, causing him to shoot his own load that splashed everywhere, then seconds later Tom hit the spot and fired his spunk into Freddy while slapping and hitting him across the back. When we had cooled down and withdrew, Robert surprised me by asking for my permission to get off the table, which I gave. Tom came over, put his arm around my shoulders and led me to the lounge, turning at the door, saying to Robert, "You can fuck him if you want, but don't loosen the ties" Sitting down together with a whisky, me with a cigarette, him with a cigar he told me stories of his exploits, detailing what different men, or 'Subs' as he called them wanted and how he satisfied them. He told me where I had been good and where I had failed and promised me more training should I want it, which I accepted. Over the next few years whenever I was home I would join in with him, firstly with Freddy but later with other Subs. As he said that day, when I had Freddy to myself I enjoyed myself for nearly an hour, today we had fun for over three hours, and Freddy was still in the playroom tied up awaiting more treatment later in the day. As I left I could hear Robert fucking Freddy calling him dirty names. I thought to myself that if I wanted a life where I could do what I wanted when I wanted and do it with the best, I had to work hard, make a lot of money and spend it having fun.