Date: Wed, 31 Jan 2007 09:38:49 -0800 (PST) From: NiteSearcher2000 Subject: Pool Table and my Balls Chapter 31 This story is not completely fictional. Nor is it the truth and nothing but the truth. The names have definitely been changed to protect the guilty. We are all disease free and stay that way by protecting ourselves whenever we play with anyone but each other. Descriptions of unprotected sex are fictional because I'm imaginative and not stupid. You know the rules... Don't read this if you're a minor or are offended by gay or BDSM expression. Don't even think about reproducing or publishing it without my permission. Remember, I have sadistic friends who like to punish people! <> NOTE: I know it's been a long time between chapters and I'm really sorry for that. Thank you for your patience. I've gone back to school and I'm taking writing courses. I'm working with two publishers on two different projects. I'm really getting into this writing thing!! Thank you all for your encouragement! Chapter 31 Settling into the new house and the new routine took us a few weeks. Some of the cabinets and closets had to be rearranged to work out better. Sometimes we couldn't find things even though we both thought we knew exactly where they were. We also ended up with lots of duplicates when we blended the two households even though we thought we did a good job figuring out what we were keeping from each house and, of course, there were some things we both got rid of, that we needed, and had to end up replacing them. Fortunately, the commute took only a few minutes longer and was well worth the increased space, comfort, and ambiance of our new home. It was a pleasant and welcome perk that our friends and family used the pretty much non-existent commute as an excuse to stay over. It was fun having company around and the help was very much appreciated. We also helped Greg and David move into our old houses. We had remodeled and renovated both of them and sold them in move in condition so they had much less to do. They also didn't have the complication of blending two people and households so it went really smoothly. It felt really good to have "our" place. It was natural. It came relatively easy. I guess the timing was right for both of us. The rules were set as we went along and settled in and adjustments and adaptations were made as necessary or desired. I'm not allowed to piss or crap in the house. Steven had me build a small pit in the yard that I have to straddle to relieve myself. I use the garden hose to clean myself afterwards and the water is so fucking cold I never get used to it. I also have to clean out the pit daily. The first morning in the house I was shocked when he handed me his wet towel after showering. I hung it up for him and went to grab a fresh one out of the linen closet. His tone was both serious and mocking when he asked, "What the fuck are you doing?" "Grabbing a fresh towel for my shower, Sir." I was honestly confused. "No. From now on you just use mine when I'm done. There's no reason to soil two." He just kept his gaze on me steady and strong. I said nothing else and just put the clean towel back in the closet before stepping into the shower. I used his wet towel to dry off and still felt damp afterward. I kind of liked his lingering scent on it though. When I stepped out of the shower I noticed that he'd left his underwear and socks on the floor in front of the hamper instead of putting them in it for himself. This was new. He'd always been very neat, but it was certainly no big deal. I dropped them into the hamper before going naked into the bedroom to get dressed. He used the same tone as before when he asked, "Where are the underwear and socks I left for you?" "I put them in the hamper. I thought they were yours from yesterday, Sir." "They are. They're good enough for you to wear. Go get them and put them on." His stance was unwavering. I'm really particular about my clothes and don't like this. "Sir, I've already put them in the hamper may I just wear fresh ones." "No. You should be glad to share my things. Your attitude just got you ten lashes with the belt so bend over the bed. You know the position." What attitude? I just asked a question. I tried to keep my resentment from showing as I bent over the footboard and clasped my hands behind my back. He fucking lashed my ass hard, harder than usual. I also know he can count so it was no accident that he landed twelve good ones, instead of ten. When he was finished his command was low in volume but strong in intent, "Now go dig a pair of underwear and socks out of the hamper to wear." I did as I was told I walked back into the bedroom to find a plain white shirt and boring tie to wear laid out on the bed. I didn't dare say a word, as I got dressed. His smirk communicated all he wanted to say. My ass was still hot and stinging as I got in the car to head to work, but I pretty much forgot about it by the time I got there. My secretary met me in the hall. Taking my briefcase from me she passed on the message, "Boss man wants to see you, now." Fuck! Thieday just keeps getting better. I smile my best smile for his secretary as I approach him. "He wants to see me?" "Yes. He said to have you stand there," he points to the corner, "until he's ready for you." I know I shouldn't, but I have to ask, "Does he do this to everyone?" He holds up his hands in surrender, "No, just you." He quickly looks down as if he's afraid I'm going to take it out on him. I know it's not his fault. I go and stand in the corner. He keeps me waiting for nearly forty-five minutes and I control my temper by reminding myself that he's paying me a hell of a lot of money to stand here and do nothing. It's still humiliating as all hell, especially as his secretary keeps looking up at me with pity in his eyes. Finally I get called in but I'm not invited to sit down. He gets right to the point. "I heard you entered the charity pool match. Are you any good?" I have no idea where he's going with this. "I'm pretty good. I was ranked number one in my college and took the state, regional and national championships three years in a row." "Why didn't you go pro?" He asked. The answer seemed pretty obvious to me. "I got a great job offer right out of college and thought it was prudent to take it." It came out a little sarcastic when I wanted it to come out in a more joking tone. There was no look of amusement on his face. I back peddled quickly, "I'm sorry. That didn't come out right. I saw working for you as a great opportunity and I was grateful you gave me the chance. I still am." I was rambling and digging myself in deeper so I decided to just shut up. He let the silence hang there and watched me squirm for a minute before he talked again. "This is a worthy cause and an opportunity for some good P.R. and free advertising. I'll sponsor you a thousand dollars a ball over your opponent's score." I didn't think he understood what he was committing to. "With all due respect, Sir, that could get expensive." "How expensive?" "I've had my share of perfect games. It could cost you fifty thousand dollars if I shoot a perfect game and my opponent never gets to take a shot. It's a long shot but still a possibility." He contemplates that a minute. "You shoot a perfect game and I'll double it and donate one hundred thousand dollars. It will be worth all the publicity we'll get." I had to ask, "And if I should lose?" "Let's just say that if you embarrass me like that I'll embarrass you more, much more. Do we understand each other?" His voice was cool and calm and I knew he meant it. This was a lot more pressure than I was anticipating in addition to the bet Steven made with Michael. "Yes, Sir^Å we understand each other." "Good, and another thing, your hair is getting way too long. I don't like it." What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I knew this was going to be a problem. I can only hope he'll understand. "Sir, Steven wants it long and has forbid me to cut it." It sounds lame even as it's coming out of my mouth, but fuck, he knows the nature of my relationship and that I really have no choice. "Well, let's see if he's willing to suffer the consequences of his choices. Starting today you get your ass paddled every day until you get your haircut. Let's see how he likes that." I'm totally stymied by this! "But, he will like that^Å" I say it more to myself than to him as the realization of it hits me. "Good. I like it too. So it works out for everyone. Drop your pants and bend over the chair." I can't fucking believe this is happening and just stand there like a moron. "What part of my instructions didn't you understand?" I open my belt and unbutton my pants half expecting him to say he's just joking. I slowly slide them down along with my underwear giving him more time to change his mind. I bend over the chair and gather my shirttail and jacket up exposing my ass to him. "It's already reddened. You just can't seem to escape it, can you?" The paddle lands down hard on my ass and I'm quickly aware of how hard I was strapped this morning. He lands ten solid ones and my ass is screaming and searing by the time he's done. I'm also well aware that his secretary has to be hearing this and I'm dreading facing him. "I'll see you tomorrow at 8:45 sharp. This is on your time, not mine, so you can come in early to get your ass paddled. Dismissed." I dress quickly and slink out of the office. His secretary never looks up and I don't say a word. I'm grateful for his tact. I work out all of my anger and frustrations by working furiously and even amaze myself with how much I get done. I'm feeling much better by the time I get home. I see the note taped to the inside door as I pull my car into the garage. My heart speeds up as I hurry to read it. Of course it is from Steven. "Strip naked. Find your cage and lock yourself in it. I want you on your knees, forehead on the floor, hands behind your back. OBEY!" Shit^Å I find the cage in middle of the living room. It is a pretty standard metal dog kennel. I crawl in naked and get into the position he described. It's pretty fucking tight. My feet and ass are up against the back end while my head is hitting the front end. I have to squeeze my hands between the top of the cage and my back. I brace my spread knees against the sides. The small size of the cage actually makes it easier for me to maintain the position because it is partially supporting me. It's not so bad^Å for a while. It becomes increasingly uncomfortable as time passes and it is boring as hell. I think about relaxing my position but then think better of it. It has backfired every time I've done it. But, as more time passes I wonder if I was supposed to clean up first before getting in. I break out in a sweat thinking about how I might have misunderstood and fucked this up. I wonder if I should open the cage, clean up, and get back in. I wonder what time it is because, of course, he positioned it where I can't see the clock. I don't know what the fuck to do and keep trying to figure it out until I hear the garage door open and his car pull in. I take a deep breath to prepare myself for whatever is going to happen. I cringe as I hear him talking and realize he's not alone. I can hear them talking and know he has at least Craig and David with him. My heart speeds up as I hear them in the kitchen. They are obviously in no hurry to see me. I'm getting more and more antsy and uncomfortable waiting for them. Finally, they come into the living room. "Ass crack and ball sack. Definitely your best features." I feel my asshole being poked and probed with some kind of stick as Steven talks to me. "Where'd you get these bruises on your ass? I know you didn't get them from my belt." "My boss paddled my ass because he doesn't like my long hair. He said he's going to do it every day until I cut it." They burst out laughing. Steven continues, "This just keeps getting better. It's your ass so it's not my problem." "There's more, Sir. He also said he's going to donate a thousand dollars a ball for every ball over my opponent in the charity pool match. If I shoot a perfect game he'll double it but if I lose he said I'll be punished for embarrassing him." "Rightfully so. I'm sure it won't compare to what I'll do to you. I'm not the only one who's going to get fucked if you lose. If I'm fucked, you're totally fucked, so make damned sure you win." Steven's tone is threatening and stern. "I didn't intend for all this..." My words were cut off by him pushing the stick up my asshole. "This whole fucking thing was your idea so don't give me any shit about it now. You created this situation so you either make it turn out right or you pay the price for it." He slides whatever it is in and out of my ass. "The conversation is over. I don't want to hear another fucking word about it. Now let's get you out here cause we need a couple of holes to fuck." Craig drops his pants and sits back on the coach. Pointing his hard dick toward me his command is simple, "suck." I crawl over to suck him off and David lifts my ass up to his crotch. I feel his hard dick against my hole and push back as he enters me. The pain is intense and I push all the way down on Craig's dick to distract myself from it. I suck him off as David fucks me hard. "Come on, bitch, put out for us." Steven sits back and enjoys the show as I serve them both. I work Craig's dick with my hands as I suck him off. He shoots his load in my mouth and I'm again amazed that he tastes just like Steven. David pushes me down on all fours and power fucks me hard. He moves me across the floor pounding into my ass and presses me down to the floor as he lies on top of me and shoots his load deep inside of me. We lay there a couple of minutes to catch our breath. They dress as I clean up and we enjoy dinner afterwards. I feel awkward and uncomfortable being butt ass naked, but keep my mouth shut about it. After dinner we go into the pool room together. Steven gives the rules, "Here's the deal, you shoot, we watch. You miss a ball we paddle your ass. Simple, right?" "Yes, Sir^Å but if I just play by myself it isn't the same. If I play myself I set up all my next shots. If I'm playing someone else I don't want to set it up too well in case I miss. Then they can run the table." "Then don't miss." His tone is menacing. I run a couple of racks before I miss a shot. The paddle across my ass takes my breath away. It hurts so fucking bad! "I told you not to miss." I play three games of fifty and take about a dozen really hard whacks across my ass as I miss. twelve out of a hundred and fifty shots is pretty good and. although my ass hurts, I'm really pleased with how it went. There's practice time built into every evening. We stick to the technique of my ass being paddled every time I miss a shot. There's a big difference between getting spanked during sex or during a scene and just having to bend over in front of anyone who's there and getting a real hard crack across the ass. One night my game was off and my ass was killing me. I was becoming panicked by the idea of my ass being paddled again and it was throwing my game off. I lost it as I missed another shot, "Oh fuck! Come on! My fucking ass is killing me! Why don't you bend over and I'll paddle your stupid ass so you know what the fuck it feels like?" The silence is instant and deafening. Steven has no reaction other than to cross his arms in front of his chest. I look around the room at everyone and "sober up" quickly realizing how badly I just fucked up and embarrassed him in front of everyone. I look back at Steven and he takes a step toward me. I instantly drop to my knees. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm really sorry. Oh please, no please." His belt is out of his pant loops by the time he reaches me. "Oh come on, please." He folds the belt in half and grabs me by my hair and pushes me down to the floor. The first lash is sharp and stinging. More follow in rapid succession. Besides the fact that it hurts like a mother fucker I really feel bad about it. I squirm and beg frantically. I'm literally reduced to tears. When he stops, I apologize over and over through my tears. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean it. I got upset because I was shooting like shit." He lets the silence hang like he always does. One last try, "I'm so sorry." He always stays so calm, cool and collected. It's totally unnerving. I try to stop the tears and desperately try to control myself from moving. It's like my hands have a mind of their own and keep going to my aching ass. I clutch them behind my back trying to get control of myself. He finally breaks the silence. "That beating was to get your attention. The next one is going to be for behaving like a spoiled little brat and throwing a tantrum like a fucking two year old. The one after that is going to be for being so disrespectful." He lets that sink in. "Then you're going to get another beating for forgetting your place." Again, he lets that settle in. "Then you're going to spend the rest of the night kneeling in the corner until bed time. By the way, you're sleeping on the basement floor until further notice." My despair turns to panic as it sinks in that all of that is going to happen tonight. "You guys staying for the show?" I'd forgotten that Craig, David, Josh and Joey were even there. "Fuck yeah! I wouldn't miss it." Craig is smiling ear to ear. "I'm in." David adds quickly. "You might as well help then. Someone should enjoy this." The belt lands again with the last word of his sentence. All of my emotions come to the surface and I cry my eyes out. I take it as long as I can and then beg him to stop. My ass is absolutely ablaze! It feels like it's on fire. He sits back until I stop crying and compose myself. "Tell me when you're ready." I sob again at the thought of what's coming. I know he won't relent. I pull it together and tell him I'm ready. "Lie on your back. Hold his legs apart for me." They grab my ankles and pull them up and apart exposing my inner thighs. The belt slashes across the sensitive area and I involuntarily squirm and cry out. David puts his foot on my pelvis to pin me down. Craig puts his foot across my mouth to shut me up, "Shut the fuck up bitch and stop being such a pussy." Steven keeps at it until my thighs are screaming. The tears are streaming down my face. My thighs are bright red and welted when he stops and they let go. I roll around on the floor. "Tell me when you're ready. We'll be in the kitchen." They walk out and leave me there. I lay there feeling sorry for myself until I get pissed for bringing this on myself. I get up and walk into the kitchen, drop to my knees, and wait for them to stop joking around and acknowledge me. "I'm ready, Sir." "On your back douche-bag." Craig is on me in a flash. His hand lands rapid slaps all across my stomach giving me a pink belly. I take it until I'm ready to scream and involuntarily sit up. He waits a couple of seconds and pushes me back down and repeats the process hitting me harder than the last time. I clench my stomach muscles, hold my breath, and pull up tighter and tighter until exhale in a scream and curl up into a fetal position when I can't stand it anymore. He calmly waits. "Again." I glance at my reddened stomach and get back in position without complaint. He does it again hitting harder than before. I lean my face against his shoulder as I let him assault my stomach. I gasp in air realizing I've been holding my breath. I sob into his shoulder and he stops. I whisper thank you over and over and nuzzle into his shoulder. My stomach is bright red and screaming. He eases me back down and motions David and Steven over. Steven holds my arms together above my head while David holds my ankles. I cringe as Craig picks up the belt from the table. Oh fuck! Oh fuck! I scream with the first lash and through the next nine. I lay there panting even when they let go. David sets a small glass of water on the floor next to me and says, "Let us know when you're ready. We'll be in the basement waiting." I sit up to drink the water and have to change position because it hurts too much to sit on my ass. I look at my body and how red and welted it is. This is no fucking fun and I might as well get it over with. I make my way down to the basement. They are all shirtless and waiting for me. David holds the flogger. "Fetal position, face down. I want your back." I can't count the number of blows that land. I curl up tighter and tighter. It doesn't hurt less but it feels safer. I say nothing until he stops on his own, and then all I say is thank you, Sir. They walk out without saying anything. I curl up on the floor with no hope and no desire to escape the pain and how shitty I feel. I hear the door to the basement open and hear one set of foot prints coming down the steps. I get up on my knees and put my hands behind my back. Steven moves in front of me and spreads his legs. I kiss each of his feet and put my forehead on the floor between them and clasp my hands behind my back again. "Can we talk? Equal time?" I'm asking permission but know he'll be present to me. He sits on the floor. "Sure. What's up?" His concern is evident. "You said equal time. Get up." A warm feeling floods through me. I stay on my knees and put my head in his lap. I tell him softly, "I love you. I really, really love you more than I ever knew I could love anyone. I know now that I've always loved you. I am so grateful for you in my life and for all you've done for me. I am so much more with you than I ever could have been on my own. Thank you, Steven." His hand brushes through my hair. His caress is so gentle and affectionate. He pulls me up to face him and puts his forehead against mine. So much passes between us in that moment. "This is it, right? We've both got what we want?" I hear the longing in his voice. "Yes, Sir." "This isn't a scene tonight. This is real. You've got to learn this lesson. You understand that, right?" He gives me a simple nod as he turns away and goes back upstairs. I curl back up on the floor and fall asleep exhausted. I sleep fitfully waking up every time I move because it hurts. I'm woken up by the lights when Steven comes down in the morning. I immediately pull my self up to my knees. "You're a mess. Look at yourself." The inside of my thighs are all black and blue and welted. My stomach is red, with screaming welts and even a little broken out in a rash. I try to see my ass, but just from seeing it from the side I know it is all bruised. "I can see the lash marks on your back from the flogger. I don't ever want a repeat of last night. Do you understand me? Now go shower." I catch myself in the mirror after my shower and really like what I see, including the bruises. I find them hot and exciting. I'm in great shape but it's more than that. I'm happy and it shows. My hair is long and wild and my eyes are alive. My mind and body are quick and alert. I feel strong mentally and physically. I feel confident and secure knowing I can take the hard lessons of life and come back better and stronger each time. I walk into the bedroom to find Steven waiting. He goes to my closet and pulls out a basic business suit, plain white shirt, and a nothing tie for me to wear. "Your socks and underwear are in the hamper, pick out a pair." I walk back to the bathroom smiling to myself because I finally understand that the man makes the clothes, the clothes don't make the man. That pretty much set the tone of things for the next couple of weeks. I'm pissed at the irony of things. My boss paddling my ass in the morning pisses me off so I go back to my office and work off my anger and resentment being more productive than ever. Then I go home and shoot better pool because of my ass being paddled. The reality is I'm at the top of things. My relationship with Steven is rock solid, my career is going great, my pool game is on the mark and so are my tennis game, my basketball game, and my workout routine. I have a stability, focus and discipline I've never had before. I have great friends and family. Life is good, really good, and the sex has never been better! I promise everyone that I will see this story through to the end!