From: evelandj@cgsvax.claremont.edu
Subject: ONE NIGHT (mm,sm)
Date: 24 Feb 1994 22:41:53 GMT
Organization: CGS

He came to me again, last night.  He has come many times 
before, in his need and his desire...seeking the capacity 
within himself to feel, to respond, to be fully alive in all 
his essence.  He knows that under my tools and my hands and 
my cock, he can find places within himself where he cannot go 
alone, places of pleasure and pain and something that 
transcends both.  And we can both find the meaning of our 
union...

He knows the drill well.  In my darkened foyer, he strips 
himself and secures the blindfold that awaits him on the side 
table.  He then secures his hands behind his back with the 
waiting handcuffs, and calls gently, "Ready, Sir".  After an 
interval to let him collect his thoughts for the coming 
events, I enter the foyer.  Softly I run my hands over his 
shoulders and flanks, letting my nails bite ever so slightly 
into his skin.  He is a very beautiful man, somewhat older 
but in excellent shape...on the average side, perhaps 5 feet 
nine inches, just about my general height and weight.  His 
skin is silky but with the firmness of underlying muscle 
layers.  I flick each of his nipples with my fingertip, 
eliciting from him an indrawn breath and an involuntary 
thrust of his chest, the better to receive the next flick.  
They rise up and display their height.  I lift and massage 
his balls lightly, and stroke his already hardening cock.  It 
is of average size and length, but embedded with a network of 
small veins that make it a darkish red and highly textured.

I am in my working uniform, leather chest harness 
accentuating my tight chest muscles and leather jockstrap.  I 
love the feel of the harness as it pulls against my muscles 
when i bring a sharp whip stroke to bear.  The leather of the 
jock is smooth and rubs seductively against my own increasing 
hardness.

Now it is time to move him to the dungeon.  I secure his 
leather collar firmly around his neck.  There are steel rings 
on either side of his neck.  Quickly I slip a pair of 
butterfly clamps onto his enlarged tits..he groans slightly, 
and moves slowly from side to side feeling the clamps move 
with him.  A light chain runs from each clamp up to his neck, 
through the rings.  Opening the door to the corridor, I 
position myself behind him, with one length of chain in each 
hand as a rein.  A quick shake of the chains is the "get-up" 
signal.  He begins to move forward, still blinded, trusting 
me for the directions that will take him to his place of 
fulfillment.  As he moves through  the door, I follow, 
holding the reins.  He steps slowly but confidently, head 
held high.  As we approach the door to the right through 
which we must pass, i give a short firm tug on the right 
rein, He turns quickly, and continues, passing smoothly 
through the door and into the next room.  Some times I march 
him around several times, to build his trust in me and my 
ability.  This is the first stage of his putting himself in 
my hands, knowing that what I do is ultimately for his own 
enhancement.  Tonight, we simply make the four turns 
necessary to bring him into the dungeon.

The dungeon is a room perhaps 15 feet on a side.  It is 
painted black throughout.  On one wall, a cupboard is opened 
to reveal an array of restraints, harnesses, and straps.  An 
open shelf holds a collections of clamps and abrading devices 
ready at hand.  Another wall contains a large number of coils 
of rope of varying thicknesses, textures, and lengths, 
hanging on hooks.  The third wall holds the whips and 
flogging equipment, also on hooks.  Against the back wall, 
there sits the St. Andrews cross with its bolts and 
restraining straps.  It can be moved into various positions 
as needed.  The sling hangs loose on the wall; it can easily 
be pulled into place when the time comes.  The ankle stocks 
can also be moved around the room.  Chains hang from the 
ceiling in strategic locations, ready to be attached as 
needed.  A pair of padded sawhorses sits in the corner.  At 
the center of the room stands a vertical pole, securely 
attached at top and bottom, with eyebolts embedded in it at 
several different heights.  The room is softly illuminated 
with several candles in wall sconces.  It is a place he knows 
well, and knows from experience.

We are now well into the room.  I close the door, and fasten 
the bar across it to secure the soundproofing.  No one will 
now disturb us until I am ready to come out.  No one can hear 
what passes between us...the sharp cries, the soft moans, the 
crack of the whip, the ululation of fulfillment...

From behind, I remove the titclamps and quickly massage each 
nipple in turn to restore circulation.  With it comes the 
sharp pain that had deadened with manipulation.  He writhes 
suddenly, and falls back against my body.  I pull him tightly 
to me as I twist his nipples sharply in each direction.  I 
move back, pushing him upright again.  I remove the 
handcuffs, and secure a broad black leather restraint around 
each wrist.  I move him into position with his back against 
the upright pole.  His legs are spread with sharp slaps to 
his thighs, and his ankles firmly clasped into the padded 
stocks that hold his feet perhaps two feet apart.  It is a 
position of extreme sexual vulnerability for a man, and his 
stiff cock and slowly pulsing ball sack give evidence of his 
sense of this.  I pull his hands behind the pole and secure 
them to a ringbolt at about the level of the small of his 
back.  With half-inch nylon rope, I pull his shoulders back 
and tighten his upper body against the pole.  A similar rope 
harness secures his pelvis and upper thighs to the pole, with 
the rope passing under his balls.  The blindfold I leave in 
place.  Although he can twist his body slightly,  he cannot 
make any significant movements.

I leave him for a few moments to appreciate his position as I 
reach for my first tool.  It is a simple flat wooden stick, 
in fact a paint stirrer, painted black in the mood of the 
room.  With the end of the stick, I flick each tit upwards 
again, accentuating his vulnerability to me.  As he tosses 
his head from side to side and begins to breathe with 
increasing rapidity, I slap his chest with the stirrer, not 
all that hard but hard enough that he feels a sharp slap.  I 
work at random, so that he never knows where the next strike 
will fall.  Sometimes I reach the nipple, sometimes not...I 
work the stick across his tight belly muscles, watching them 
wince back from each blow.  The only sounds are the slap of 
the rod, his labored breathing, and my slow and deliberate 
breaths in return.  Now I turn from his chest to his thighs, 
working with a stirrer in each hand, playing tunes on his 
thighs.  Each blow that falls makes him more sensitive to the 
next that will fall there.  Thus, I need not increase my 
frequency of blows or their hardness to elicit ever-
increasing reactions....

Now I pause.  Using a medical clamp, I secure his right tit 
firmly and begin to twist upward.  It is not widely known 
that the underside of the male nipple is one of the most 
sensitive parts of the body.  With my fingernail, I work the 
underside from side to side, back and forth.  His head tosses 
wildly, and his chest muscles tighten.  I release the nipple 
and turn to the left one, with similar reactions.   I clamp 
each tit and secure a chain between the clamps, dangling 
loosely between them.  A four-ounce lead weight is attached 
to each clamp, pulling them down sharply.  As I hold the 
chain in my hand, I bend down and slowly take his engorged 
cock into my mouth, biting down just firmly enough that he 
can feel it.  As I slowly suck him, feeling the delicious 
drops of pre-cum ooze onto my tongue, I pull the chain gently 
from side to side, alternately bringing sharper pressure onto 
ans softly, and his head tosses in time with 
the manipulation of the chain.  

Now I let his cock go, and move to secure his balls with a 
leather harness that separates the balls and tightens the 
skin on them to a velvety finish.  With a stiff paintbrush, I 
softly stroke the balls, sending him into a further ecstasy 
of writhing.  Since I hold his cock firmly, he cannot evade 
the strokes.  I alternate working the skin with the bristles 
with sharp slaps with the handle. not hard...we do not wish 
to damage him...but firmly enough to evoke a sharp cry.

Now I free his nipples from the clamps again, and as I detach 
each clamp I bite the nipple  gently and suck hard to restore 
the blood flow.  His chest harness precludes his evading my 
touch, toss as he will.  Now I begin to work both tits with 
one of my more ingenious discoveries...a pair of simple 
files, each with four different surface textures ranging from 
very coarse to very fine.  I press into the nipple with the 
medium coarse surface, and then twist it to the right slowly 
but firmly.  He gasps, throws his head back as far as the 
harness will permit, and a long low howl of pleasure escapes 
his lips.  Now I work both tits simultaneously with a file on 
each, settling into a rhythm of up/dow, back/forth, and 
twisting strokes.  He does not know what is to happen next 
and his head tosses wildly as the guttural moan splits his 
lips.  I press my body tightly against his as I work the 
files, feeling his hardness merge with mine...

Now I pull back.  One can only work one part so long before 
it begins to become inert.  I have no intention of allowing 
any part of him to fall so...loosening the ropes, I remove 
his ankles from the stocks and unfasten his hands.  He falls 
to his knees in front of me.  Greedily his mouth opens and 
begins to seek my cock.  I slap his face with it lightly, 
once on each cheek, and he opens wide to take its length in.  
Hungrily he laps up and down my hardness, now freed from the 
confines of the jock...

Enough distractions...now to serious skin work.  I secure his 
wrist restraints to overhead hanging chains, and similar 
leather restraints about his ankles to floor bolts.  He has 
considerable ability to move in this position, but not to 
escape.  I really get off on seeing him try to escape what is 
coming...I move behind him with the leather flogger, thirty 
long strips of soft leather each about a foot long.  It is 
not a device to produce particular pain, but it is marvelous 
for sensitizing the skin for other tools.  Softly I loop the 
whip over each of his shoulders, so that a soft slap falls on 
each nipple in turn.  Pulling the leather back over his 
shoulder lets him feel the softness.  I begin a slow rhythm 
of strokes across his shoulders, back, and butt.   Starting 
softly, I gradually increase not only the speed but the 
heaviness of the strokes.  He drops his head to his chest, 
arches his back, and moves his butt back to better take the 
raining blows.  At the point when his breath has begun to 
take on a hoarse and rapid quality, I suddenly stop and wait.  
Little whimpering sounds come forth, and his body rocks back 
and forth seeking a resumption of the lash.  I rub my hands 
across his back, feeling the warmth engendered by the rush of 
blood to abused skin...such a powerful feeling...

Now I don my leather glove.  This is of soft black leather, 
smooth on one side,  the other with a large number of little 
spikes sticking up, each about an eighth of an inch in 
height.  With the smooth side, I run my hand across his 
chest, so that he can feel the smoothness and coolness of the 
leather.  Reversing my hand I begin to stroke his chest with 
the spiked side, very softly but very firmly.  Now he begins 
to flinch from the feel of the spikes...this will not do, and 
I move behind him, pulling his body against mine as I 
continue to move the spiked side against his chest and belly 
with firm round strokes.  He tosses from side to side against 
me, but cannot get away from the glove as it moves how to his 
upper thighs, now to his tits, now to his abdomen and the top 
of his cock...my cock, rock-hard, is pressed between his 
thighs, nuzzling its top surface back and forth across his 
tightly puckered ass.  

Enough of this, I decide.  Now I reach for the small rawhide 
cat, about 20 thin thongs on a handle.  This is designed to 
allow rapid swinging around so that a large number of strokes 
can be delivered in rapid succession.  I work his thighs 
mostly, up and down, inside and out.  His head tosses back, 
but he has no leverage to get out of the way.  An occasional 
stroke to the nipples reminds him that they are still 
there...now I switch to the leather strap, about a two-foot 
length of doubled leather one and a half inches wide.  I 
strike his calves sharply, again and again, bringing forth a 
sharp cry with each stroke.  I double my pace, and begin to 
work the strap back up to his thighs and belly.  Now I go 
down and once again take him into my mouth, sucking him 
firmly as I slap sharply again and again at each nipple with 
the strap...He is close to sensory overload at this point, so 
the time has come to let him down again...

This time I deny him my cock, much as he wants it.  I push 
him down to the floor.  His eager tongue finds my foot, and 
begins a ritual of licking and sucking,  Each toe becomes a 
miniature cock, as he moves across my feet, using his mouth 
with all the talent it is capable of...

Now I attach the sling to the hanging chains, and move him 
into it.  On his back, his feet in the air are attached by 
his restraints to the suspending chains.  His wrist 
restraints I attach at about the level of his shoulders, 
since his hands have already been in the air for a 
considerable interval.  His ass is spread, and the pucker of 
his hole calls to me...but first, I secure titclamps, each 
attached to a length of chain reaching up into the air.  The 
chains pass over a pulley about two feet up, and a weight 
secures to the end of the chain, pulling his tits 
upward...not too hard, but enough to remind him that they are 
there, and that each part of his body is an object for my 
pleasure, as long as he is in my dungeon.

Now I turn to his ass.  I begin with my fingers.  He knows to 
clean out before he arrives, so I know I will find a smooth 
channel awaiting me.  First one finger, then two...reaching 
up for his prostate and feeling its slick surface under my 
fingertips.  Withdrawing, I reach for the small buttplug, 
lubing it well and softly inserting it with a twisting 
motion, working it in slowly but steadily.  His head is 
thrown back, and soft little cries emerge.  His ass twists as 
far as it is able, trying to suck the plug in...When it is in 
place, I leave it for a bit, playing with the chain and 
weights attached to his tits, bringing pressure first on one, 
then on the other...

Now I remove the plug, rather roughly and strongly...He 
gasps, and a shudder overtakes his body...his cock has 
softened during the ass work, but I quickly bring it back to 
full hardness with a few well-placed bites...I want him close 
to the edge as we move into the next phase.  Stroking him up 
and down, I can see the tell-tale signs of arousal...the 
flush, the rapid breathing, the head tossing...but it is not 
to be yet.  Now I work into him the medium dildo, the one 
with the handle.  This is the best one for the long slow 
strokes, the ones that keep him on the edge.  In, out, twist 
first one way, then the other.  Long, hard strokes...short 
soft ones...short and long alternating...it seems like hours 
that i keep his ass working the rubber.  He sucks it in as 
though he was trying to make it cum...and thought he could do 
it!  I feel myself getting more and more ready to make my 
move...but first, he needs a taste of the really big one...I 
lube it up, and begin to insert it slowly.  This is at the 
margin of what he can take, and he knows it...but this time, 
he is ready and waiting, and with only moderate resistance, 
he finds the two and a half inch model pinning him into the 
not move now, just lies there limply with an 
expression of utter abandon on his face.  All his body 
language tells me that I have succeeded in moving him into an 
altered state of consciousness, ready to take me in full...

I slide the big one out, slowly so as not to distract him.  
The only sign that it is gone is a soft "whffff" as it passes 
out the lips.  Now I have him where I want him.  I position 
myself between his legs and enter him with a long smooth 
thrust, feeling myself buried to the hilt in his smooth hot 
tightness.  One might think that the large dildo would have 
stretched him, but I have found that it is quite the 
contrary...the large object actually induces greater 
tightness when it is removed.  I begin a rhythm of smooth 
strokes, much like what i did with the middle tool.  Slowly 
he emerges from his altered space, and as he does so, he 
enters the rhythm himself...squeezing as I move in, relaxing 
on the out strokes...the sling itself moves back and 
forth...most of the time all I have to do is stand there and 
let his ass come to me...I can watch the emergent signs of 
arousal in him again...I stroke him gently but firmly, 
keeping him to my rhythm and pacing.  

Now I feel myself getting there, that long slow tension 
building out of the bottom of my balls and beginning to rise 
up through my shaft.  I increase the speed for both of us, 
and he matches it stroke for stroke, his hands in the 
restraints clenching and unclenching in turn.  Now I feel it 
rising in me, the inescapable act that we have both built 
toward in our hours here together...three more strokes, and 
my back arches as I pour myself into him, feeling his ass 
absorb and clench to milk each drop from my hardness...at the 
same moment, he erupts himself, great white masses of liquid 
arcing through the air to coat his chest and tits and belly.  
Again and again we both spasm, sending further liquid into 
our shared space...

Gently, I lean over him and press myself into him as the 
sling rocks back and forth.  Our juices mingle and flow forth 
across us both.  A sharp intake of breath as I undo the 
titclamps is the only sound to break the stillness apart from 
the slow liquid press of our bodies sliding across one 
another...

Yet again, we have both achieved what we are here for...that 
time in another space where all things are possible, where we 
are in complete touch with our inner and outer selves, where 
we merge and join into each other...this time, I called the 
shots; another time, he will do so.  The magic of the moment 
and the persistence of the feeling are what we will carry 
with us out the door and into the rest of our lives...