Tanner's Tales, #15
By John Yager

This is the fifteenth installment of Tanner's Tales.

When I posted the eighth installment last September, I said it was the end of the story but since then both Tanner and I have received many messages from readers asking questions about him, about his present whereabouts, and about his life. Some questions have been about his present life. Tanner has said that for now, at least, he does not want to share details beyond the fact that he is living and working with Sean in the Fort Myers, Florida area.

Other readers have asked for more details about certain aspects of Tanner's life in Texas and later, in California. These further installments of Tanner's Tales will deal with those periods.

If readers wish to contact Tanner they may do so at the e-mail address below. He doesn't promise to answer all messages but he will receive them and will read them.


As with the earlier installment, these ongoing installments deal with Tanner's experiences as he described them to me. I have tried to put his material into story form, more or less as he presented it to me in e-mailed notes and telephone conversations. It is presented as a factual account but I have omitted or changed the names of certain universities, corporations and individuals.

Please refer to my introductory notes for Tanner's Tales #3, in which I discuss the topics of "S and M," "Fisting" and "Rough Sex." I would be interested in hearing from readers who have personal experience with the practice of fisting, both to satisfy my own curiosity and to confirm or correct any ideas expressed by Tanner and related in these stories.

As in the earlier installment, I have not attempted to convey the exact tone or the accent with which Tanner speaks. He was raised in the South and until his move to Florida, he spent most of his time in the New York City area. He still speaks with echoes of his original regional accent.

Andrew has again proofed this story and both Tanner and I want to express our thanks for all his help.

This work is copyrighted © by John Yager, et al, and may not be reproduced in any form without specific written permission from the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.

All John Yager stories posted on NIFTY can be found under my name in the Prolific Authors list accessible from the NIFTY Home Page.

If you wish to send comments to me, you may contact me at the e-mail address below. If you wish to be placed on my list for notification of future postings you may also use this address.


It was several more weeks before my piercings were stretched to as large a gage as I wanted. I ended up with a Gage 4 PA and Gage 6 rings in my nipples, the same size Sean wears. On and off over the years I've gone without the ring in my right nipple and my PA but I always wore them enough to keep the piercings open. I've always worn the ring in my right nipple and it sort of became my trademark. Over the years I've been asked by a lot of people if it's an open admission that I am gay. My response is always, "Hell Yes."

Now that Sean and I are back together we are both wearing all our rings all the time. Since we both wear identical body jewelry, it sort of marks us out as a couple whenever we are bare chested or naked. We end up dancing shirtless at our favorite club almost every weekend and we are often fully naked at a nude beach we've been frequenting. Our jewelry never fails to prompt questions and comments.

I can also tell you that it really adds to our sex life. As I mentioned earlier, both of us find our tits especially sensitive and the rings only add to the way tit play quickly gets us super hot. As I've also told you, getting fucked by a guy with a big cock and a heavy PA is, so far as Sean and I are concerned, the ultimate in hot sex.

I began working at the XXX Corp offices as soon as I graduated from the university and held that job for six years. In addition to the routine work I made public relations trips for them and helped out at conventions and exhibits. I socialized with their regular clients and, as expected, went to bed with the top dogs.

I suppose I could have stayed with the company for as long as I wanted. There was never any pressure to leave but I could see younger guys coming out of the sports scholarship programs and moving into the corporate ranks. I knew I was getting too old for the assignments I was given. The XXX Corp was very good to me and I owe them a lot.

The real problem I was having there was with drugs. There were always parties where anything you wanted was available and I made no effort at that point in my life to avoid it. I'd gotten into Speed and was really pushing the limits by the early 1990s. I'm not sure how many people knew, but Sean saw the problems coming and convinced me I had to slow down. By then he was starting his first health resort near Fort Myers, Florida and he offered to help.

By then the whole AIDS thing had become really big and I think Sean was afraid I'd be using drugs and get careless. Since my college days I'd been insisting on condoms when I had sex with anyone I wasn't sure of. When Bobby and I had been together we'd done it bareback but even in our college years we'd been careful with everyone else. When I was lucky enough to get together with Sean during my later years with the company, which wasn't all that often, he and I also fucked bareback, but that was it. I never messed around with anyone else, despite Sean's fears.

Sean wanted me to come to Florida and get into a drug rehab program there but I was just too embarrassed at that point to do it. I knew I needed help but I wanted to do it alone, not with Sean looking over my shoulder. So when I finally left XXX Corp I checked into a residential drug rehab clinic near Dallas and spent a full month there. Sean had recommended the place because they had a high success rate and, just as important, placed a lot of emphasis on exercise and physical training. They had a great gym and a big weight room. I wasn't in bad physical shape when I arrived at the clinic but when I left I was dry and in better physical condition than I'd been for two or three years.

Sean offered me a place on his staff but I stupidly turned it down. As much as anything it was a question of pride. I needed to make it on my own and didn't want to be totally dependent on him. Sometimes our pride can keep us from doing what would really be best for ourselves and I certainly see that was the case for me then. If I'd gone on to Florida then and joined Sean I would have saved myself a lot of pain.

I'd had an offer from a guy in LA who makes gay porn films and I wanted to try my hand at it, so to speak. I spent a year and a half in California and appeared in seven of his films.

It was a bit of a shock getting to LA and being completely on my own. In Dallas the company pretty much saw to all my needs. They provided my apartment and a car. Most weekends I was at parties put on by the company, which more or less solved the food problems, at least on weekends.

When I left the company they gave me the car I was driving at the time, which was a one year old Corvette, so I was nicely set for wheels. After I got out of the clinic I spent a week with my folks and then drove west. I arrived in LA in early February, 1995. I'd been there several times on XXX Corp trips so I more or less knew my way around and knew the area I wanted to live in.

TJ, my new boss, had an old warehouse in West Hollywood where he had his offices and his distribution facility. There was also a big space where he had about four more or less permanent sets. There were three sets which were designed to look like sort of fancy bedrooms and one which was a living room. Some of the indoor shots were done there and if you look at a bunch of TJ's films made during the early to mid 1990s you'll see those four rooms over and over again, painted different colors and with some different furniture, but always the same sets. But most of TJ's films were done on locations, shot in actual houses or out in the sticks someplace.

When you say Hollywood to most people who don't know LA, they immediately think of some glamorous area. Nothing could have been further from the truth. TJ's place was an old building which had been the warehouse of a big paint company. It was a steel structure with concrete floor and a big paved parking lot where they kept some vans and other vehicles used for location shoots. The area it was in was more or less solidly commercial and didn't have any charm at all.

Knowing where TJ's studio was and expecting to be working there a lot, I looked for and found an apartment on Venice Boulevard, which was both close and cheap. The place was an old motel which had been remodeled to provide small apartments. It wasn't much and it was certainly a comedown from the townhouse the company had provided for me in Dallas, but it had a living and dining area, a small kitchen, one bedroom and a bath. It was all I needed.

Three days after I arrived in LA and got myself settled in, I reported to TJ's office and was told I was going to start my first film in a week. I was given a script and told to go learn my part. As you can probably guess, I was fine with the sex scenes but had a lot of trouble with speaking parts.

I really tried but when I had to say memorized lines they just didn't come out naturally at all. My lines always sounded very stilted and no matter what I tried nothing seemed to help. Fortunately TJ took mercy on me and kept me busy with sex shots that didn't require memorized lines. When I did have a speaking part, he'd sort of work me into more spontaneous scenes where some other guy and I would be ad-libbing. It was all real conversation, not from a written script. All of the films I was in did very well and a few of them are still kicking around.

In addition to the gay porn films, TJ also had a porn magazine business and when I was there he was just exploring the use of Internet sites. I posed for a lot of nude photographs for the magazines. Some of those shots are now on the Internet and I was making good money for posing, as well as for the films. Some of those shots were of me posing alone and some were with other guys. One series was taken by a guy named Berry Caldwell, one of the top men in male erotic photography.

Those shots ended up in a big, fancy book, what I guess you'd call a coffee table book. For the series Caldwell shot he took me up to northern California for three days of shooting. He'd had me going to a tanning salon in LA for two weeks before the trip, so I had a great overall tan. He also insisted on shaving me before I started tanning, so for those shots I was completely smooth and beautifully tanned with no swimsuit lines.

Another first for me connected with those shots was that they used a pump on my cock. I'd heard about guys doing that, but I'd never done it or had it done to me before. I mean, it's not like I don't have a big one already. But I have to admit, it was a turn-on. They greased my dick and then put this clear plastic tube over it, making sure the seal was tight with lots of lube around the base where the tube pressed against the smooth, shaved skin of my groin.

After they had it all in place, they very slowly pumped the air out of the tube. I mean, I was hard already. Who wouldn't be with a couple of guys greasing up your cock and then fitting a tube over it? I just laid back and watched as the air pressure in the tube dropped and my cock began to get longer and thicker than it had ever been before. It was amazing.

Not only was the sight of my cock growing in the tube really hot, but the feeling of it expanding like that was amazing. By the time they'd finished my cock was a good twelve inches long and as thick as a beer can. As they removed the tube they snapped a black leather cock ring around it so it stayed hard for quite a while.

I've had my cock pumped quite a few times since but it's never been as hot as that first time. I don't know if any of you guys have tried it, but it is a really strange feeling. When the tube is removed and you can touch your super-sized cock, it doesn't feel like your own cock at all. It has a sort of hard but spongy feeling and it's very sensitive to being touched.

One of the sequences of still shots Berry took was of me getting a blow job. I couldn't believe the feel of the other guy's mouth on my cock. It was like he'd been wired and every time he pulled me into his throat I felt as if electricity was running through him and then into me. When I climaxed it felt as if I were blasting the head of my cock down his throat. I think they are some of the hottest photographs anyone ever took of me.

I've heard a lot of different opinions about the use of a vacuum pump to swell your cock. Some people swear it actually increased the size of your natural erections by increasing the capacity of the erectile tissues. Others claim it can damage the erectile tissues and make it difficult to achieve and maintain full erections. I've never had any problems with my cock after being pumped but can't claim it did anything to enlarge it permanently. It was hot while it lasted but that was it, so far as I was concerned. But I wouldn't want to encourage anyone to do it if there is any danger. I mean, what good is a bigger cock if it doesn't get hard and stay hard?

I'd never experienced pumping before but the fact is, Bobby and I had messed around a little with shaving when we'd been living together while at college. We'd always found it kind of hot. Neither of us had much body hair anyway and shaving the little we did have was always fun, especially since we did it to each other. Bobby had shaved for swimming meets before we started doing it together so he had some experience and could show me how to do it.

After I'd been shaved for those photos in northern California and had seen how hot they looked, I just started doing it all the time. It only took a couple of trimmings a week to keep me completely hairless, except for the hair on my head of course, and I've continued to do it to this day. I guess in some ways Tommy served as an example, but I sure had no interest in following his example in any other area.

A few years later when I was living in New York I went to a guy who did electrolysis and had some work done and a few years after that I had some laser hair removal treatments on my as crack, pubes and armpits, so shaving isn't really necessary now.

Having a smooth crotch and a totally hairless body sure shows off my big dick and my honed physique and it turned out that a lot of men loved me completely smooth. I learned that one of the guys who really loves me smooth is Sean. What more incentive did I need?

Now I'm trying to talk him into doing it, or better still, let me give him a totally smooth body. I think shaving him down would be incredibly hot, and hey, if he likes it, maybe he'll want to get some permanent hair removal done too.

But back to my porn film career, a lot of you have e-mailed some fairly specific inquiries about my experiences so I want to get into that and see if I can answer your questions. Some of your questions relate to my own experiences and some to the gay porn industry in general. I'll answer both to the degree I can but I really don't know much about the business side of the industry.

A lot of you asked about getting it on in front of a camera. It was never a problem, but remember, I've already admitted that I'm an exhibitionist at heart. I can usually get a hard-on with no trouble at all and of course what you don't see in a porn film is that off camera when you are about ready for the next scene there is always a fluffed handy to get you hard and ready with a little oral action before the cameras start rolling.

Some of you asked about getting it on with a guy I really didn't know all that well. I had no problem with that either. The guys were always hot and even though I was for ship when it came to spoken lines I could really get into the story line of the film, even though most of the plots were cap.

TJ was always great to give us time to run though the action before we actually started filming. He'd coach us a little, tell us how he wanted to shoot the scene, how he wanted us positioned so the camera guys could get the best shots and the angles they wanted. We'd not really have sex during the run through because we'd be saving our energy for the actual shoot, so to speak.

The action would usually be shot in short segments and then edited together to look like continuous footage. I was in one film with Sam Best in which, if you believe it really happened the way it was shown, we fucked three times in less than an hour and shot huge loads each time. Well, I don't want to disillusion anybody but it really took us about twelve hours over two days to shoot that sequence.

One reader wrote to ask me if the final shots of a guy's cock erupting onto some guy's chest or butt were even the same guy who'd been fucking or getting head. Again, I don't want to bust your balloon but there were times when it was another guy's cock you see shooting in those close-ups in the last scene.

But, hey, it's all fantasy anyway, right?

There is this convention in porn films of showing the guy's orgasm. I guess it comes from the early days when people thought a lot more was fake than really was. To show that the top guy is really getting off, it was expected that he'd withdraw from the mouth or ass of the bottom and shoot his wad on camera. I guess another thing is that a lot of guys really get off on seeing a guy shoot on camera.

The thing is though, it's not really all that common in real life. I mean, if I'm fucking a guy's ass I usually keep my cock in there until well after I've come. But showing the climax is one of those conventions of porn films and most directors insist the actors do it.

TJ had a somewhat more relaxed attitude about it. In most scenes we'd pull out, yank off our condom and shoot our stuff on the bottom's chest or back. Sometimes, though, TJ would tell us to just stay in and show our orgasm by our facial expression and the noises we were making. I really liked those shots best and felt as if the were not only more natural, but also very hot to watch.

Was it hot having sex on camera? Sometimes you could really get into it but at other times it was just mechanical. The hard scenes were when they had to stop the action for some reason and then start again. That sometimes happened over and over again in a scene the viewers would eventually see as continuous action. There were some funny results but I guess nobody really noticed, or if they did, they didn't care.

I was in one little epic filmed at a ranch up near Barstow which took two days to shoot. Both days we started early and were at it all day. If you look closely you can see the shadows on a wall behind me and the other guys move from left to right in the final edited version of a scene that is supposed to be taking place in about half an hour. In half an hour you get a full day of the sun's motion. But like I said, who cares?

In the earlier chapters I told you about my other activities in California. I knew a few men there from my XXX Corp days and the word soon got out that I was in LA and available. It wasn't long before I was getting half a dozen calls a week from guys who wanted me and were willing to pay my rather steep fees. I was popular enough to be demanding so I limited my appointments to three nights a week and charged top dollar. Having sex with other men for pay wasn't exactly new to me, after all, and I had no compunction about it. I guess I still don't but I'll say a little about that later. In those days, for sure, I just figured if I have what they want and they'll pay what I want, it's a simple exchange and nobody gets hurt.

Once I got into selling my ass, I decided I'd better move to a better location. Besides, with the money I was making by then I could afford a nicer apartment. I found a very nice two bedroom apartment on Montana Avenue in Santa Monica. It wasn't all that far from my first LA apartment on Venice Boulevard but it was a nicer place and a nicer neighborhood and clients felt more comfortable coming there.

It wasn't long before I had about two dozen regular clients. Most of them were older successful business men and a lot of them were married. They'd sometimes call me as much as a month in advance of some event they wanted me to attend with them. I think a lot of those guys just got off on being seen with a fairly well known porn star. The image thing was almost as a big a deal as actually having sex with me later.

Some guys would want to come to my place or meet me at a hotel and just get down to it. But with a lot of them it was the whole experience; a party or having dinner together in some fancy restaurant, then going back to their place or mine and fucking.

Most of my clients wanted to be fucked. A few wanted oral sex, either me giving them head or, more frequently, them going down on me. There were an even smaller number of guys who wanted to fuck my ass. I'm versatile and I'd give them whatever they wanted. I charged a flat rate and would be at their service all night if they wanted me that long. I figured how they used the time was their business.

A lot of street boys and less successful male prostitutes will charge an hourly rate and they may offer a reduced rate for an all night job. I never messed with that. It was $1,000 up front for a long as they wanted, up to all night, which worked out to a maximum of about ten or twelve hours. That was in 1995 and 1996, of course. Later in New York, when I got back into hustling there, I was getting a lot more, but I was offering a more specialized range of services, as you know if you've read the earlier chapters of this series. In both cases, in LA and in New York, I always had plenty of clients who were more than willing to pay what I asked and nobody ever tried to bargaining with me. I had a great clientele in LA and in New York.

One of the strangest scenes I ever got into was with a client I'll call Jeff. He was almost forty when I knew him and he had a very well paying job with one of the big movie studios, a major straight studio, not the porn stuff.

Jeff has a great house up in the hills above Pasadena and loved to play rough. I'd heard that much about him before he actually contacted me and made an appointment. He was into playing out scenes of his own invention, fantasies, I guess you'd call them. His big thing was being dominated by a big stud and whatever the actual scene, it always worked out with him being subjected to some pain and then getting fucked.

The first time he called me he discussed what he wanted and he asked if I'd be interested in "helping him out." It was definitely strange talking about what he wanted over the phone, especially since I'd not actually met him at that point.

Jeff had seen some of my porn flicks and seemed to be really turned on by the idea of getting together with me. He told me what he wanted in general terms and said if I was interested he'd pay double my usual rates and send me an outline of the scene he wanted us to play out together. I agreed to show up at his place two weeks from the following Saturday night. He wanted me to come up to his place sooner but I was booked up and only had that Saturday open because one of my regular clients had canceled because of an unexpected trip. Two days after Jeff's phone call I got a letter telling me what he wanted. It was more detailed than some of TJ's movie scripts.

To get into Jeff's scene I needed a full set leather, which I didn't have, but was able to borrow from TJ's assortment of costumes. The outfit included black leather rip-off slacks, which I wore over an old gray jockstrap. The pouch was so worn and full of holes that a lot of the smooth skin of my ball sack showed through. Jeff had specified old, holey and gray, as opposed to some sort of black leather strap which would have matched the pants. I was also to wear a black leather vest and cap and a black leather mask. He wanted whips, which I was also able to borrow from TJ's store room, along with some lengths of soft cotton rope and two pairs of cufflinks.

Over the next couple of weeks I worked with the whips and got fairly skillful with them. I could split a tomato sitting on a fence post about fifteen feet away and got so I could use a shorter version with even more skill. I figured since Jeff's scene was going to take place inside, I'd better plan on using the short whip, even though the long one was sure fun. I began to think I could really get into that shit.

Going up there on the scheduled Saturday evening I wore a dark blue training jacket over the outfit because without it I looked so fucking weird. If anybody had looked over at me when I was stopped at an intersection I would have seemed to be dressed in regular clothes, but I sure drove carefully. Getting pulled over by a cop would have been more interesting than I wanted to experience with the outfit I had on under the jacket and with the cap and mask in the seat beside me.

I arrived at Jeff's place as he requested, just after dark. There was a security gate but he'd given me the combination for the keypad so I just punched it in and drove on through, noting that the gate automatically swung shut behind me. The place sat on about three acres so after going through the gate, I pulled on up a curved drive to a brick-paved parking area. From the parking area there were amazing views off to the left over the entire LA area. The house was dark but there was a light on in one upstairs room. The curtains were closed but there was a soft glow indicating the room where Jeff had said he'd be.

I got out of the car quietly, took off the training jacket and locked it in the trunk. Just before I put on the cap and mask I reached back under the driver's seat and extracted a half pint of cheap whisky I'd bought just for the occasion. I tipped a good mouthful between my lips and sloshed it around before spitting it out. I dabbed a little more of the vile smelling liquor over my arms and chest. I was stone sober but Jeff wouldn't know that. With a few fake staggers and a lot of bravado, he would think I was really drunk, maybe far enough along to really be out of control. While he may have figured on me having good enough judgment to keep our games relatively safe, he might be really spooked and think he was in real danger at the hands of an out of control drunk.

Finally ready, I then grabbed the black leather bag with all the toys and headed for the house. Jeff hadn't said how I was supposed to carry all the stuff and the black bag had been my own idea. The front door was unlocked so I could go on in and then lock the door behind me as I'd been instructed. There were a few night lights along the stairs and in the entry hall and I could tell the house was huge, even though I couldn't really see much. I silently climbed the stairs to the bedroom where Jeff said he'd be waiting.

When I got to the door I opened it silently and slipped in. Jeff, whom I'd not seen before, was lying in the big four poster bed. The bed was as massive as Jeff had said in our phone conversation and it was clear that the posts were strong enough to resist any amount of pulling he could exercise.

Jeff was lying on his stomach and his bare back was exposed from his hips up. I was surprised to see how fit he looked. I guess I'd sort of expected some pudgy couch potato.

I moved silently to the foot of the bed and stood there for a moment looking down at him. The only light in the room came from a lamp on the desk by the window. The shade was turned so the light played on the curtains, explaining the soft glow I'd seen from the parking area below. Some of the light reflected off the light off-white curtains and cast a dim glow over the room. In that meager illumination I could see Jeff's body move slightly as if he were really asleep.

Playing along with his script, I reached down, took hold of the white sheet and slowly pulled it down, revealing his naked body. He had narrow hips and a thin waist but his legs were well muscled and his upper torso flared out suggesting a well developed chest. His shoulders and arms, which were crossed under the pillow, were hard and well developed. He had a golden all-over tan and the hair on his head seemed to be light brown, almost blond. It was hard to tell in the soft light.

When I had pulled the sheet completely off him he laid still for a moment longer and then turned over suddenly, looking up and me, his eyes wide open in seeming shock.

"What the hell?" he said, his voice gravelly as if he'd just been jarred from deep sleep.

Now that he had turned onto his back I could see that I'd been right about his physique. He was very well built and looked as if he spent a lot of hours at a gym. His pectoral muscles were bulbous and hard with small dark nipples protruding just at the curved edge. His abs were ridge and his cock, while not huge, was already hard in anticipation.

I moved quickly around to the side and grabbed him as he tried to move into a seating position on the edge of the bed. As he tried to get up I grabbed his arms and pinned them behind him; in seconds I had one pair of the cuffs on him, making it impossible for him to strike out.

"How the fuck did you get in here?" he yelled. I ignored him. "Damn it, mister," he said, his voice still elevated, "get the hell out of my house."

I shoved him back on the bed, his arms pinned behind him, rolled him over onto his stomach and quickly strapped a ball gag into his mouth. He grunted in protest but he didn't have a chance.

I dragged him to his feet and looked him over. He was several inches shorter than me and I clearly outweighed him by thirty or forty pounds. Despite his mock protests, his cock was fully hard and I knew he was really getting into the scene he had himself suggested.

I pulled him around and stood him up between the heavy posts at the foot of the four poster bed. Using the key, I released the handcuff from his left wrist and then relocked it to one of the bed posts. When he was secured, but struggling, I went back to my bag and retrieved several lengths of soft rope.

I looped rope around his left wrist and then released his right hand from the hand cuffs, turned him around and tied his left hand to the post so he was facing away from me, toward the bed. As he continued to struggle, I did the same thing with his right hand and then turned my attention to his legs. In moments I had him stretched between the posts, his arms and legs spread so his body took on the configuration of an X.

As Jeff looked back over his shoulder in mock alarm, I slowly removed my leather vest, exposing my torso. He looked me over and groaned.

I reached down and ripped the leather pants away. Then, standing there in only my jock strap, boots and mask, I went over to the bag and extracted the shorter of the two whips.

Back at the bed, I draped the thongs of the whip over his right shoulder and then slowly pulled the handle down so the strands crept over his chest and then dropped as they came over his shoulder. He groaned.

I leaned in and put my lips right against his right ear and whispered, "you like that, boy. You like having a real man take charge." He groaned again. My breath must have smelled vile but there was nothing he could do to avoid it.

I walked around to the side of the bed so I could see the front of his body. The guy was definitely in good shape. His muscles flexed and strained as he pulled against the ropes which held his legs and arms outstretched. His cock was fully hard and standing out at right angles from his body. I lightly flicked the strands of the whip over his cock and then slowly pulled it in, letting him feel the leather against his exposed, delicate skin.

Jeff was really moaning now and his cock was dripping continuously onto the foot of the bed.

While his eyes were fixed on me I swayed slowly and reached out to steady myself against the bedpost.

"Fucking drank too much," I growled, more to myself than him, but loud enough for him to hear me.

I walked back around to the foot of the bed and snapped the whip a few times in the air. It made a cracking sound. I landed a flick of the whip on the bed sheet just to Jeff's left, leaving a five inch cut in the soft fabric.

"See that split in your fancy sheet, boy?" I growled. "Just think what I can do to your skin." I walked over closer and used my gloved right hand to land a hard slap on the right cheek of his ass. He jerked and moaned again, but couldn't really speak because of the ball gag which spread his lips into an obscene circle. "You want to play games? You want to get me up here to tease you around a little, leave you with a few pink marks, but only where they won't show when you go to the office on Monday in your neat Armani suit."

I walked around to the side again so I could see his face.

"Well, Jeff baby, the rules just changed," I growled and again swayed slightly as I leaned against the bed. "You were so fucking stupid. You let me tie you up like a hog ready for butchering. Now I can do anything I want with you."

I walked back around to the foot of the bed and snapped the whip at his ass in one short stroke. I'd learned how to control it well enough to leave a series of bright red welts on his skin, but not hard enough to actually cut him.

When the whip hit his skin he jumped violently and tried to cry out, but to no avail because of the ball gag. He looked back over his shoulder at me and his eyes were suddenly wide with fear.

"What's the trouble, Jeffery? Was that a little more than you bargained for?"

I walked back over so I could place my lips against his right ear and whisper softy, "you love it, right? You love having your pretty house invaded by a big fucking dangerous guy. You like having a real man tame your puny ass." As I whispered into his ear I prodded his spread ass with one dry finger of my black gloved hand.

Jeff was squirming now, really trying to avoid my hand, trying to move his head away from my lips, from the smell of cheap whisky on my breath.

I laughed loudly and moved back into whipping range. In quick succession I planted half a dozen sharp strokes of the whip on his shoulders, back, buttocks and legs. Then, just to give him a real thrill, I planted one more slightly harder right between his shoulder blades. I stopped, waited about ten seconds and then muttered, just loud enough for him to hear, "oh shit."

I went to my black bag and tossed the whip in as I quickly grabbed a small plastic phial I'd also borrowed from TJ's supply room.

"I think we need a towel here," I mumbled as I wandered to the door I assumed was the bath. I was right and quickly retrieved a washcloth, which I wet and wrung out, and a big, fluffy, expensive looking bath towel.

Returning to the foot of the bed, I poured the contents of the phial over Jeff's shoulders and let it run down the length of his back as I quickly wiped the bright red fake blood up with the wet washcloth and then followed with the towel.

Jeff was looking back over his shoulder at me and stared in real horror. Working well down behind him where he couldn't see what I was doing, I wadded the empty plastic phial into the wet washcloth. Then, being sure he clearly saw the red stained towel and washcloth, I tossed them through the bathroom door onto the tiled floor. Hey, I'm a fairly neat guy and I didn't want to stain his obviously expensive carpet. It was all just a little play acting but of course Jeff didn't know that. The poor guy probably figured I'd opened a major gash in his back. With the sting of the whip strokes I'd planted there it wouldn't have taken any imagination on his part to believe he was really hurt.
As Jeff stared at me his eyes were wide open with real fear. I quickly untied him and shoved him headlong onto the bed. Before he could move I dove after him, landing with enough force to knock the wind out of his lungs, and quickly tied his arms to the posts at the head of the bed. While his legs were free and he was now able to move a little, he couldn't really escape my control.

"So buddy boy," I snarled, now let's see just how tight that cute ass of yours really is." I left him lying on the bed, thrashing around in a vain attempt to free himself while I went back to my bag for condoms and lube. On a whim I also extracted a dildo which, while big, wasn't quite as large as my cock.

Going back to stand at the foot of the bed, I looked down at him as I tossed the supplies on the foot of the bed and slowly fondled my crotch through the worn fabric of my jockstrap.

"So, Jeffery," I growled, "are you ready for this?"

He was still trashing around but settled down as he watched my performance.

Once I had his undivided attention, I shoved my thumbs into the wide waistband of the jockstrap and began to slowly shove it down. Jeff stared in awe as I slowly exposed my smooth crotch.

I pushed the jockstrap down a little further until the base of my hard cock came into view.

Jeff was groaning now. Saliva was drooling from the corners of his mouth around the ball gag which still prevented him from actually speaking.

I shoved the jockstrap down and my fully erect cock sprang into view. I was already dripping precum. I guess I was really getting into the scene.
"So you like my monster, Jeffrey?" I snarled. "Do you want me to take that gag out and shove it down your throat?"

He groaned again and nodded his head. I'd sort of figured the guy liked sucking cock.

I moved up over him, kneeling with my knees in his armpits and the pouch of my jockstrap pressed against his mouth and nose. He began groaning and moving his gagged mouth from side to side against the worn fabric.

His arms were still stretched out away from his body, his wrists bound to the head posts of the big bed.

I reached behind his head and released the gag, yanking the ball from between his stretched lips.

"Oh yeah," he moaned when he could finally speak.

"Okay, Jeffrey, if you want my cock, let's see you get that jockstrap off with your teeth."

He lifted his head as far as he could in his obviously uncomfortable position and grasped the top of the waistband with his teeth. I lifted my rear off his chest so that as I rose higher he was able to pull the jockstrap down. My legs were spread too wide for it to work very well, but the guy was trying.

"Good boy, Jeff," I chuckled at his dilemma. "You want that puppy don't you?"

"Yeah, man, yeah."

I took mercy on him and lifted my right leg so I could lower my jockstrap just far enough to free my hard, wet cock.

"Um," he moaned when I pressed the drooling head of my cock against his lips.

"Open wide, boy," I chuckled as he tried desperately to get his lips around the head. I leaned forward, lifting my hips again and resting my arms against the head of the bed. The move improved the angle to some degree so Jeff could get a little more of my tool into his mouth. He was groaning big time now.

With one hand still on the headboard, I braced myself and reached behind Jeff's head so I could raise it up a little and push more of me into him. He had about a third of my shaft in his mouth and it was clear without some major realignment of my body to his he'd never be able to take more. The angle just wouldn't work.

I pulled back, to Jeff's disappointment, and reached up to loosen the ropes which held his wrists out toward the bedposts.

"Okay, spunky," I chuckled when I had him freed, "let's get you into position so I can fuck your throat."

I pulled him down until his head was almost at the center of the bed and his lower legs were hanging over the foot of the bed. With him in that position I turned around so was again kneeling over him, but this time with me facing his feet. I moved into push-up position and aligned my cock with his mouth. It looked like a good match.

"Open wide, Jeffrey," I chuckled as I slid my cock slowly but deliberately into his mouth. I have to admit, the guy was good. Not many guys can take the full length of my cock but Jeffrey was determined.

When I was about half way in I hit the back of his mouth and felt the tight opening to his throat. Jeff gagged and I held still, not pulling back, just holding still, forcing his throat to accept me.

Tears were running down from his eyes but the gagging sensation slowly subsided and I was able to slide slowly on in.

I lowered my body onto his until I was almost in a sixty-nine position. He had a nice cock and it would have been fun to suck it, but I couldn't do that and maintain the sense of authority I had over him. I put my arms down on the bed so I must have looked like the Sphinx.

His cock was standing straight up and twitching and I was tempted, but instead of guiding it to my mouth, I bent it down so it lay over his stomach, pointing toward his navel. Then, as I lowered myself I could feel Jeff's cock find a happy home in the recess between my pectoral muscles.

With my hands then free, I stretched to grasp the dildo and lube. As I continued to pump my cock into his mouth, I greased his ass, gave the dildo a bit of a greasing and then positioned him so I could work into his ass. He moaned a lot, both from my cock down his throat, and because I was fucking his ass with the plastic cock.

Jeff was really getting into it but I didn't let it go on too long.

When I felt myself approaching climax, I rolled away from him, figuring it was time to march fearlessly on to the next phase of the evening's plan. He whimpered, still wanting my cock, but I slapped him around a little, which he loved, and then fucked him. I knew that's where we'd end up, so to speak.

I rolled a condom down my shaft and plowed in with only cursory preparation, a little lube and a lot of fucking.

His ass was nice, fairly tight, but it was obvious that others had passed that way before. Within moments of getting my cock all the way in, the boy was humping me and begging to be banged. Well, if anyone can bang an ass, it's me.

After about five minutes of anal aerobics, we both came. I figured by then his prostate was pulp. He shot stuff all over himself, leaving dabs and globs on his stomach and his chest.

I filled the condom, which seemed to please him, then pulled out and off and headed for the shower with Jeff following close behind. We showered together and did a little petting. His back was striped by the whip but he was amazed there were no open cuts. I admitted I'd played with him and he loved it. He asked me when we could do it again.

When I'd dressed, he handed me an envelope and we said our good-byes. Three hours and ten minutes after I arrived I was on my way, two thousand dollars richer. Hey, I figured that was a little over six hundred and thirty dollars an hour so who's complaining?

I always played it safe with clients, Jeff included. In LA and later in New York, I never fucked without a condom and I certainly never let a client fuck me without using one.
I did see Jeff a few more times in LA and later he caught up with me in New York.  He was an occasional client right up until I got out of the game and moved to Florida.

Well, next week's segment will be the last of this series so I hope you stay with me for one more chapter.  If you have any questions ask them now because once we wrap this up, I intend to get on with my life and not add any more to these tales.

To be continued.