Date: Sat, 30 Sep 2017 23:12:32 +0000 (UTC)
From: John Pearce <john_pearce321@yahoo.com>
Subject: Erotic Domination #2

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CHAPTER TWO

Part One - DISCIPLINE

I had left his flat after that first experience floating on a great
high. My body seemed to glow from within. I hadn't had such an explosive
climax for longer than I cared to remember. Whatever the pleasures of
masturbation, it's very hard to surprise yourself with something new, so
though still pleasurable it does tend to become a tad monotonous.

That night I laid in bed unable to sleep, my body on fire with the
realisation that I had suddenly found the kind of man I had so long
fantasised about. To have actually found a dominant man meant that all the
imagining that had gone on, all the thoughts and desires I'd put into my
fantasies over the years, were as nothing compared to the power of the
experience I'd just had.

Yet to say that I'd found him was not at all accurate. Because I hadn't
found him. He had found me and simply taken me over. I had made no
conscious decision or effort, as soon as he came into my life his very
nature had, like gravity, inexorably drawn me to surrender to him. I had
simply floated towards him as if on the crest of a wave. And so I laid
there in my bed with every cell in my body tingling with the knowledge that
this was happening and that soon I would see and experience him again.

There was also a certain feeling of apprehension, a fear of the unknown. I
had always kept these desires locked away deep inside my head, now they
were bursting through to real life. Now someone else knew what my desires
were. As a result knowledge of them wasn't entirely mine any more. So
control over them remaining secret wasn't entirely mine either. These
weren't even coherent thoughts, though, just vague worries somewhere out in
the fringes of my brain. In reality, this apprehension actually acted as a
stimulant to the excitement itself. I could hardly wait for our next
meeting, but I did not have any idea what he would require of me at that
meeting. Happily my growing trust in him helped remove most of the fears
and just left the apprehension and excitement. After all, I'd enjoyed it
all so far.

With that thought and a smile on my lips, I turned over and went to sleep
at last.

I went through the first few days on this wave of release, feeling little
need to masturbate. Almost inevitably as the days passed my libido began to
rear it's head and one morning as I recalled that night my hand and my
penis got fatally attracted and almost before I knew it I'd thrown back the
sheets and come all over my stomach. And I then rubbed it into my skin just
as he had. And that just got me excited all over again.

It was now three or four weeks later. We had met three times since, each
time with pretty much the same sequence of events. I would strip, he would
dress me in the gloves, buttplug, the sheath over my genitals and the plug
in my mouth. Then he would excite me in various ways until I was on my
knees with his cock in my mouth. He would come on my face and then bring me
off with his hand as I leant back against him on the sofa. He told me later
that this was like an initiation rite, to enable me to relax and feel at
home in this new environment.

Relaxing and feeling at home was exactly what I was doing. Right from that
first night. I had never felt so much at ease with anyone sexually in all
my life. I didn't need to find him physically attractive as I always had
with women. I felt no need to wonder what to do next, was it the right
thing, how assertive should I be, all that simply wasn't there at
all. There was no anxiety or doubt, so I could totally relax into being
naked and enjoying all the sensations he created in me. Now I didn't have
to DO anything any more, just respond to what he did.

I'd previously had one very strong conventional sexual time with a female
but have to admit looking back that even in the middle of that there had
remained a slight sensation that there was still something lacking, that
not everything was all in place as it should be. Maybe that had been
because it was very much an emotional relationship as well as sexual. It
involved love and togetherness as well as sex. And it had been that love
and togetherness side that had caused the downfall. Since then I'd lived on
my own and found I could live a far more settled life without all the
emotional attachment. The only thing lacking since then had been the
sex. And as the urges toward submission grew stronger in me the prospect of
real life sex seemed ever further away. I seemed doomed to a life of
masturbation and fantasy. But now, out of the blue, I found myself in the
midst of this hugely satisfying sexual experience while the rest of my life
went on just as I wanted it, free from any emotional dependency.

In other words, I liked him a lot and respected him, but I didn't need to
love him. More importantly I didn't need him to love me, I just needed him
to want my body.

We also met outside of the sexual side. I don't know if this is unusual
between a dominant and a submissive, but he'd suggested it. He said he'd
enjoyed my company that first night before the sex reared it's head and
that he'd like to know me better. I felt the same, so we'd been out for the
evening two or three times for a meal and such since, where we met as
equals and just enjoyed each others company. We talked about many things,
and sex would come up now and again as we talked, though I think he learnt
more about me and my desires than I did about his. But this was only
natural as by his very nature he generally led our conversations and my
nature was to follow. But I did learn enough to find him interesting and
very like minded. Any lurking thoughts of a possible mad sadist hiding
within him died away, he was obviously a genuinely pleasant man. On these
evenings out I didn't visit his flat at all, he would collect me in his
car, and then drop me back at home later. He said that this was because I
should only enter his flat as his submissive and not in any other role. By
association that would mean that I would always see it as a place of
arousal and so would always get aroused when I entered. If I visited in a
normal way this excitement would be diluted.

But my next visit turned out to be by no means an exact repetition. I'd had
a busy day and was a bit late leaving work. By the time I'd got home,
showered and shaved my genitals so as to be smooth for him I was running
late and even though I hurried by the time I got to his door it had
stretched to around ten minutes.

When he opened the door he seemed a bit more abrupt than usual.

"Come in" he said. I entered and he closed the door, then turned to me
looking at his watch.

"You're ten minutes late" he said flatly.

"Yes, I'm sorry," I then began to burble on a bit about all the things that
had held me up.

"No matter," he interrupted almost immediately. "We'll deal with that
later."

I wasn't used to this colder version of him, and felt a wave of nervous
anticipation come over me and my face felt flushed as my heart beat
faster. Had I screwed up? Had I spoilt things? But then he became his
normal self, offered me a drink and we sat and chatted for a while just as
normal. My pulse slowed back to normal and I began to relax again. We
chatted for a while, had another drink. But then he got up from his chair.

"Stand up, boy. We'll begin now."

I put down my glass and stumbled to my feet. The earlier fear of this
authoritarian manner came flooding back.

"Strip."

I undressed hastily, a bit all thumbs as I struggled out of my clothes as
fast as I could manage. When done, I stood feet apart hands behind my head
as I'd been taught.

"Hands," he demanded. I obediently held my hands out and he slipped the
gloves on.

"Turn," I turned round and he fastened them together behind my back.

"Turn back to face me." I was getting nervous again at these abrupt
commands and once again the feeling of being very exposed and vulnerable
swept over me. And once again the desire to submit became the whole of my
being, I was back in my proper place again.

He looked me up and down, the stern look back on his face again.

"You were ten minutes late," he said. "For what reason?"

I did my best to explain but trailed off into an awkward silence under his
steady gaze.

"And while you were busy being late did it not occur to you to let me
know?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I was just trying to get here as soon as I could."

"So what you are saying is that what you were doing took precedence over
what I was doing.  What do you think I was doing during those ten minutes
when you were wrapped up in yourself and apparently didn't give me a
thought? You could have rung me or texted, but no. You just carried on in
your own sloppy way and left me to twiddle my thumbs for ten minutes. You
wasted ten minutes of my life. That's a very disrespectful attitude for a
so called submissive wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, sir" I mumbled. "I'm sorry sir."

"To just say sorry is not good enough I'm afraid". He paused for a
moment. "That brings me to another aspect of your behaviour that I haven't
addressed yet. Tell me, how many times have you masturbated since we last
met?"

I thought for a moment. "Twice, but not for the past three days, sir, as
you said."

"Hmm." he mused. "But that's not all I said is it?"

I stood confused. I knew that each time we parted he would say no
masturbating for three days before seeing him again, but more than that I
couldn't remember.

"I'll refresh your memory then. What I said was to keep masturbation to a
minimum, but not at all for three days before. I made sure I said exactly
that each time you've left. Do you remember that?"

"Yes sir, I remember now." I was feeling pretty shamefaced now.

"Well then, given that 'to a minimum amount' means the least possible
amount, tell me, what is the least possible number of times you could have
masturbated during that time?"

I felt myself begin to squirm now, this was embarrassing. It was like being
back at school.

"I guess it would be not at all sir".

"You guess it would be? Don't you know?"

"Yes sir, sorry. It would be not at all"

"Exactly" he said. "You see it's the same thing again. You didn't pay
attention to my instructions, just let them float over your head and only
acted upon the bit you'd bothered to remember. More disrespect. It's very
sloppy, not at all befitting for a submissive. At the moment you are
evidently much more a submissive when I feel like being one kind of person
than a proper submissive. You obviously need to learn some discipline."

I carried on fidgeting and looking at the floor. My penis wasn't in sight
as it had decided that it didn't like this situation much and so had shrunk
visibly.

"Wait here. Eyes down. Don't move" his voice was stern again now. Then he
left the room, leaving me standing there suitably chastened and red in the
face.

He was gone maybe for five minutes, it seemed an age as I stood waiting,
now with nervousness competing with my excitement. He came back to stand in
front of me now in his white bathrobe.

"Look at me" he said. I looked up. He had a leather paddle in his hand. He
smacked the palm of his hand with it a couple of times. It made a rather
intimidating crack as he did so.

"Now it's time for your lesson," he said. "I call this correction rather
than punishment. I have no desire to hurt you, but I do need a way to
correct your behaviour so that you learn to pay attention to what I tell
you and be obedient to it. To encourage you to mend your ways. This
device," - he smacked the paddle on his hand again with a loud crack - "is
very direct. It will sting your arse satisfactorily to focus your
attention."

He then had me go over and stand facing his desk. He unclipped the gloves
from behind my back and crossed round to the other side of the desk to move
some papers to one side.

"Bend over, hands and elbows on the desk." he said. I leant down and rested
my arms on it's surface. It was quite low, so I was bent forward at a sharp
angle. He clipped a slightly longer chain to one wrist, passed it through
the handle on the top drawer and back up to my other wrist. My arms were
now held further forward and close together on the far side of the desk. I
felt properly secured for the first time. Yes, I could still pull my hands
free if I chose, but I felt no need.

I could feel my arse presenting itself to the air and began to feel a
certain nervous tingling somewhere above my scrotum. He came back behind me
and had me move back away from the desk until my body was 'nicely
stretched' as he put it.

"Spread your legs" he said.

I obeyed.

"Wider" he said with a sharp slap on my bottom from his hand and I moved so
they were fully stretched.

"Arch your back," he said. "Stick your arse out for me."

Again I obeyed.

"Good boy. Now you are in the proper position for discipline."

He was standing directly behind me as I stood there, all nerves on high
alert, waiting for the first blow. There was a long pause, then to my
surprise I felt a finger hook itself down into the band around my scrotum
that I had worn since he put it there that first night. His finger wiggled
the band gently forward and back so my balls swung in time with it. It felt
as if they were moving of their own accord. It was an intensely erotic
feeling. With his other hand he began to stroke my buttocks. My desire was
firmly on the rise again.

But then his finger left the band and I felt his hand close around the base
of my scrotum to take command of it in a much more authoritative way.

"But you've not been a good boy have you? You've been a bad boy, haven't
you?"

"Yes sir" I said.

"What have you been? Tell me."

"I've been a bad boy sir."

"Indeed you have. And does your behaviour need to be corrected?" He was
pulling slightly on my ball sac as he spoke.

"Yes sir" I said again.

"Tell me what is needed."

"My behaviour needs to be corrected sir"

"Say please!"

"Please sir, my behaviour needs to be corrected."

"And why do you need discipline?"

"For being late and coming without your permission sir."

All the while he was stroking the curves of my buttocks and fondling my
balls. I was getting so turned on by this ritual of confession that I
ceased to care what he was going to do to me next. Then his hand moved from
my buttocks and came round to my front and closed around my now reawakened
penis.

"Aha," he said. "This boy is enjoying this, isn't he?"

"Oh, yes sir, please, sir" I almost moaned.

He stroked up and down my penis slowly a few times as I caught my breath
but then all of a sudden his hands left me.

"You kept me waiting for ten minutes for no good reason. That's very
disrespectful. And you also disregarded my wishes by pleasuring yourself
twice. You will get two strokes to each buttock for each minute you were
late, and two for each time you pleasured yourself. That's twenty four on
each buttock, so forty eight in all. You will count them out as you did
that first night."

A sudden loud smack on my left buttock made me catch my breath.

"One, sir"

Then another on the right.

"Two, sir"

And so it went. I was aware of the loud crack as it landed and felt heat in
the buttocks after each stroke, but it lit my desire rather than took away
from it. "Three, sir" "Four, sir" Maybe my arousal helped, but any pain was
perfectly tolerable, it was the formal nature of his beating me, the ritual
of it that was driving my rising excitement. "Five, sir." "Six, sir" I
counted on.

At twelve he paused and began to roam his hands over the curves of my back
and buttocks, he squeezed and pulled at them.

"Ah, you're getting a nice rosy glow now" I heard him say as he ran his
hands over my cheeks.

Then on again. But it wasn't a straightforward beating. He varied the
timing, so I couldn't know when to expect each blow. Three rapid blows fell
on one cheek so fast I nearly lost count, but then a very leisurely three
more on the other with many seconds passing as I readied myself for the
next one. It added suspense to the whole thing, and that suspense in itself
was very erotic.

At twenty four another pause. He took me firmly by the hips, pushing down
so my knees were slightly bent. I felt the warmth of his body press against
me from behind as he pulled me back against him. Looking back between my
legs I could see that his robe was now hanging open. His erect penis now
stood up between us and I could feel it rub up and down in my arse crack as
he moved his hips up and down. He reached forward and held me against him
by the shoulders, grinding us even tighter together, rocking his hips from
side to side as he pressed against me.

Then on again until my count reached thirty six. Without any conscious
thought on my part, I found that any time there was a pause between his
blows my back would arch a little more and I would push back presenting my
buttocks as if they were pleading for his next stroke. Soon came the
realisation that there was no 'as if' about it, my whole body was longing
for his next stroke.

Once again he was caressing the curves of my buttocks, fondling my balls,
running his hands over the back of my thighs and between to the inner
thigh.

Then his hand came round and took the head of my penis between his thumb
and forefinger and rolled it gently to and fro. I moaned aloud from deep
within me as he found the fluid oozing from my slit and his thumb slid
sexily all over the head.

"Don't you dare come yet, boy." he said. "That would bring my great
displeasure."

The last twelve strokes were delivered in rapid succession, harder than
before, each one harder still, hard enough to make my arse feel on fire.

Then it was done. I rested bent over the desk as the combination of the
afterglow in my buttocks and the lust in my belly combined into one huge
whirlwind of desire that overran my sense of identity and left me
breathless. He left me there for a while to absorb what had just happened,
then came round the desk and freed my hands.

"Up" he said and pointed to the wall. "Go and stand facing the wall, hands
behind your back."

I obeyed, and felt him secure my wrists again with the chain.  : "Stay
there and reflect on your disobedience and it's consequences."

And so I stood there. I did feel slightly embarrassed and shamed by this
ritual. But those feelings were dwarfed by the mixture of the fire in my
rear from the spanking, my nudity, his authority and my body's response to
his touch which all merged into this huge sense of arousal that occupied
the whole of my being.

The ritual of the spanking spelt out the simplicity of this
relationship. If I did something he disapproved of his response was short,
sharp and conclusive. Not moody silence for a few days and barbed remarks
and no real resolution.

After a while he came behind me again. He reached round and took firm hold
of me with one hand on my abdomen, holding me back against him. His other
hand came round and two fingers slipped into my mouth, holding my tongue
down and my head fixed.

"You're not to worry yourself when you get things wrong. You are a complete
beginner in this new world, and as such you're not expected to know all the
ways of it or know what is required of you. Learning what not to do is
equally important as learning what to do. Using rituals like spanking to
point out your misdemeanours has a physical intensity that is far more
effective than simply telling you.

"You have only just begun to explore your submissiveness and so far it
looks as if you are very well suited to it. You need a lot of training but
I will enjoy training you. Training you to be a good submissive who knows
how to please his master. To show you the ropes if you like, and see how
you like them"

His free hand moved up my chest to squeeze and pull lightly at my nipple.

I couldn't hold back my feelings and longer, it just burst out of me.

"Pleathe thir?" was all I could get past his fingers. It was the first time
I'd spoken without being spoken to. His hand and fingers froze still for a
few moments, and I caught my breath, expecting a sharp rebuke.

"You may speak." His fingers came out and hovered in front of my mouth.

"Thank you sir. Please sir, I want you to train me."

There was silence for a few moments. He took me by the hips and moved me
back a couple of paces, then came round to stand facing me. He regarded me
gravely and then spoke.

"I'm very pleased to hear you say that. You are very sweet but still such
an innocent. You don't see what is already in motion, that I am already
training you. When I said I will enjoy training you, I didn't mean I will
enjoy training you if you will let me, I simply meant I will train you, and
I will enjoy it. Whether you will let me or not is no longer relevant, my
training you is a state that already exists between us. Your permission is
not required, your submissive nature is such that that you cannot refuse my
dominance, after all, it is what you want and need above all else. I will
train you and you will willingly accept that I train you

"When you stripped naked for me that first night it was obvious that you
wanted my training. By accepting a spanking from me tonight you have shown
it again even more boldly. The simple fact is that your training really
began from the moment we met. And it has progressed a great deal already.

"Your very presence here says that you want it, there's no need for you to
ask. And if you don't want it, then it's simple for you to leave at any
moment. But you can't leave, can you? You have come too far to turn back,
and you like it too much, don't you?"

"Yes, sir"

"What I will do is give you a badge, a symbol that you can wear to
demonstrate your desire for and acceptance of my training. Not right this
moment, but soon. Will that please you and settle this question?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you sir."

"Good. Good boy"

Then he backed off a couple of paces and leant back against the wall,
pointing to the floor in front of him.

"I want your mouth now boy. So down on your knees."

As I sank obediently to the floor he unfastened his robe and it fell aside
to reveal his half erect penis. I gazed at it with such a sudden lust that
I realised that this penis had already become the central focus of my
desire. It was turning out just as he had said it would be. "Cock is what
you will want and in your mouth is where you will want it." he had said
that first night. It all felt so natural - it was obviously made to go in
my mouth just as my mouth was made to fit over it, a great long warm living
thing to fill it. I fell on it with already drooling open mouth and sucked
in it's warmth and bade it a furious welcome with my tongue. I don't know
what came over me, I was really hungry for it. All this talk of training
and commitment had brought an even stronger sense of security with him
especially as he was now to become my guide. And it meant that he wanted to
continue seeing me. "I will enjoy training you". His words echoed in my
mind with an almost physical effect.

There was an added frisson of excitement and anticipation to having him in
my mouth this time. The last time we'd met up socially instead of sexually,
I'd confessed to him that I wanted him to come in my mouth rather than on
my face.

I had come to love the moments before he came on my face. Seeing his penis
expand as he pumped it, the head almost glowing swollen purple in front of
me, knowing that at any moment his seed would burst out to spread itself
all across my face, all came together in a vast sweep of desire for me. And
beneath it all was the realisation that this was all coming from his desire
for my body. He felt desire for my body. He wanted to use me as his sex
object.

But there was also the beginning of a feeling that his seed was going to
waste on my face, that it's real place was to be deposited inside me. I
remembered that on the first night he'd said not only would I want his cock
in my mouth, I would come to want what it produces even more. And that
feeling had grown in me. I had imagined the moment that his seed would fill
my mouth so many times that it had grown into a pressing need for me, which
had led inevitably to the moment I confessed it out loud to him.

"Are you sure?" he'd asked.

"Yes, I'm sure," I'd said. "I want it very much."

"You realise it would be a major step in your acceptance of me as your
master? Swallowing my seed means taking part of my being inside you to
become part of you in a very real sense. Some of the elements contained in
my seed will be absorbed into your body so part of me will permanently be
inside you. It will make a stronger bond between us, but it will tie you to
me on a more permanent basis. Are you still certain?"

"Absolutely certain. I really want it."

"Excellent," he said. "It forms a necessary part of your training, and I
will look forward to it. But it is I who will decide when the moment is
right, not you. For the moment we'll leave things as they are. You know the
old saying, to travel is better than to arrive? Delaying will let your
anticipation build, so you will just have to wait and be patient. It will
happen all in good time."

So now each time I had him in my mouth there was always the fluttering
feeling in the stomach of will he/won't he? Will this be the moment he
chooses?

Not this time though. Even though I squeezed my lips and sucked as hard as
I could to try and prevent him withdrawing from my mouth before he came, my
enthusiasm was such that it was not long before my face was coated anew
with his seed.

Then he took me over to lean against him on the couch once again as he took
my cock in his hand. But this time he didn't bring me off in a rush. Just
as I felt my orgasm begin to rise his hand left my cock and he stroked
lightly over my body until the urge receded. Three times he built me up
like this and then denied me, until I was writhing and groaning as he
stroked my stomach with one hand while drumming his fingers lightly on the
swollen head of my penis as it strained upwards to meet him.

Then, finally, his left hand moved up from my stomach and his fingers went
in my mouth again, possessing me in that way that excited me so much as his
other hand took hold of my shaft and he began to pump me again.

"Come now!" he growled urgently in my ear, and the urgency shot down to my
penis and I sprayed all over my front once again. I collapsed against him
like jelly as he spread the come around and into me one more time.

Some time later, when I was dressed again and ready to leave, he said: "In
future you will arrive for our meetings between two minutes to the hour and
the hour. If our meeting is at eight, I will expect your knock on my door
between 7:58 and 8:00. Not before and not after. If you are delayed you
will let me know. This is a rule, not a request. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir"

"If you are ever late again, even by a minute without letting me know then
do not even bother to knock, I will not open the door for you. You will
have to go away and wait until I am ready to see you again. Do you
understand that as well?"

"Yes sir, I understand" I was hanging my head feeling rather shamefaced.

"Good. Just be sure that you keep your clocks accurate then!"

And then he added "I'll repeat myself one more time. Keep masturbation to a
minimum, although this time I require abstinence for four days before we
next meet, not three. Do you understand this now?"

"Yes, sir, I understand now." I couldn't help a slight smile coming to my
lips as I said it. He smiled broadly back at me.

"However, since you accepted my discipline with a good heart and without
complaint, you may pleasure yourself once during the next few days if you
feel the urge. But not at all during the last four, OK?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you very much sir."

And once again he had me kneel and suckle on his penis until he raised me
up and ushered me out of the door.

_____________________________________________________________________


Part Two - ON DISPLAY

There were ten days to wait until our next meeting. So I began to plan how
best to take advantage of this one free solitary session he'd granted
me. Obviously not straight away, that would mean a week and more without
relief once it was done. Besides, after each session with him I felt fully
satisfied for a good few days, so I decided to wait until nearer the four
day deadline. I did get horny again after a while, but not in the urgent
itchy needy usual way, it was more an acceptance of feeling horny without
any great urge to satisfy it. Yes, my balls were demanding attention, but
it seemed like they had been doing that most of the time since I met him
anyway.

When that last free evening arrived though, things didn't exactly go to
plan. Instead of the usual rush of libido sweeping me steadily along to a
climax, somehow as I watched my own hand stroking my own penis it all came
to seem a bit pointless. Yes, I could come if I persisted, but there was
something in me that kept pointing out that it wasn't his hand, and that
without his hand it was more just a matter of going through the motions. It
would only be me making myself come, and doing what I'd done a thousand
times before seemed a rather tired imitation of the sensations his hand
would give me. I tried firing up a couple of my favourite porn scenes, but
there wasn't much help there either, they now seemed a bit distant and
irrelevant to how I was feeling.

As well as all this, there came the rising feeling that despite him saying
that I was allowed one wank he had still said 'Keep masturbation to a
minimum'. Taking him up on his offer wasn't keeping it to a minimum, it was
taking advantage of it in order not to not keep to the minimum. All of a
sudden it seemed obvious to me that keeping it to a minimum would be what
he really wanted me to do. Even worse, with all this thinking my penis had
begun to soften. I tried swapping from my left hand to my right to better
imitate his touch - I was left handed whereas he was right - but that just
felt clumsy. Eventually I gave up on that hand too, took it away and sat
and watched as my penis subsided. So I never got to take advantage of my
freebie. Strangely enough, when I went to bed I fell asleep easily,
confident that I'd made the right decision even if I couldn't quite
understand why.

So it was that when I set off for our next meeting I had not come at all
since the last meeting. I had found the same kind of dumb acceptance that
had descended on me before that first night when I had found masturbating
brought me no relief at all. The sense that I was doing this for him made
it bearable.

I certainly set off early for our meeting. His dire warning from the last
time had had it's effect. I was parking the car with twenty minutes to go,
in the building with ten, and outside his door with five in hand. So I
stood outside his door, checking the time, hoping no-one would come by and
wonder why I was just standing there.

With one minute left I knocked on the door. I didn't want to risk being
late.

This time he opened the door with a smile. "Hello, come in. Good to see
you. Excellent timekeeping by the way!"

"Thanks," I said as I entered. "I didn't dare risk being late!"

He laughed. "I don't blame you, that's just as well. But come on through,
I'll get you a drink"

There was a slight difference in the room when I entered. The chairs had
been moved back so there was more space in the centre, and over to one side
was a free standing full length mirror that I'd not seen before. He went
and poured the drinks from a bottle of wine on the table and handed me
one. Although my arousal was already well under way, I could remain relaxed
and chat away, there was no nervousness to inhibit me. For the beauty of it
was that it was him that would decide, him that would make the move. I
didn't need to think about it, it was out of my hands so all I could do was
enjoy the arousal I already had and wait for his instructions. I didn't
need to make any decision, all that was needed was to relax and just wait.

So it was that we chatted for a while until he brought the conversation
round to masturbation and asked whether I had enjoyed having the freedom to
do it albeit just for the one time.

I hadn't rehearsed what I would say, it just came out.

"I know that you said I could do it once if I wanted and I felt grateful" I
said, then went on to explain my one aborted attempt and how 'keeping it to
the minimum' had swung the balance for me.

"Good boy, well done. That's a very pleasing sign. And did that frustrate
you?"

"No, not a lot. My balls do feel very full though."

"Good," he said with a smile."I have something special for their contents
in mind.

There was a pause. I was wondering what this special something could be,
there was a small memory tickling at the back of my brain. Then he spoke
again.

"Perhaps it's time for a little talk, for me to throw a little more light
on the situation. Had you taken advantage of my offer I would not have been
displeased, but it would have shown me that your primary objective was
still to actively seek your own satisfaction using a show of submission as
your means. It would have shown me that it would take a fundamental change
in your mindset in order to function as a true submissive. We could still
have had fun, but only on a certain level.

"There is a world of difference between someone who acts the submissive
role for his own satisfaction and a natural submissive. While the first
allows his superior to control him in order to to gain his own pleasure,
the natural submissive will instinctively learn that his own pleasure lies
in divining his master's wishes and following them.

"This last ten days has shown that you are beginning to understand what it
is that drives a true submissive. That what he needs is to bring pleasure
to his superior. When given the opportunity to pleasure yourself, you
willingly chose the option that would give pleasure to me. I think you will
increasingly begin to see your penis and even your own libido less as a
part of you to use as you please, but more as things that are coming to
belong to me which you happen to carry about as part of you. It shows me
that the thought that your genitals are not necessarily yours to touch
freely any more is beginning to grow in you, even when we are apart. In
good time you will come to see your own genitals more and more as my
property. You will wash them and shave them as usual, but you will wash and
shave them on my behalf not yours and you will come to see that they are no
longer yours to touch any time you like any more. I shall begin training
you to encourage these feelings very soon.

"Do not be alarmed by any of this. I am not taking control of you, it is
more that by voluntarily handing the control to me you are allowing your
true nature to surface. That's why you feel at home with it. And of course,
if it proves to be not what you want, then you can break free of it any
time it suits you. But you may well find that you blossom under these
conditions and find a new contentment with life. Only time will tell." He
paused and regarded me steadily.

"I think it will be a long time before I want to break free of you, sir"
That got me a big smile from him. He put down his glass and started to get
up from his chair.

"And you called me sir quite naturally before we've even started. That's a
very good sign too." Then he clapped his hands together. "Right then, now
we'll start. Clothes off please!"

And so I got up as well and stripped. It was always a profound moment,
making myself naked in front of him, after the prolonged lead up, it was
that aha moment when the whole erotic element kicked in, when it all became
real again as I stood there, feet wide apart, hands behind my head.

"We'll be having a more gentle time this evening than last time. I want to
have you on display for me to begin with as I want begin to sketch you. As
you know I like to draw, and I have a position in mind for you, standing,
with your arms above your head, sort of spreadeagled while upright. So that
your arms won't get stressed your wrists will need to be supported. Do you
mind that?"

"No, sir. Not at all" I knew he liked to draw, it had come up on one of our
'normal' evenings and I'd seen some pencil sketches. Nothing racy, but he
obviously had a talent. I was more taken with the idea that it was me he
wanted to draw. I took that as a compliment as well as a statement that he
found my body attractive. Of course, it could have been because he saw my
body as an oddity, but I didn't think so. It also made me more eager to
please him.

"Good, it will be a gentle introduction to bondage for you." He ruffled his
fingers through my chest hair. "Firstly though, it's time for this hair to
go at last, I want you to be properly naked for me."

He turned and went to his desk, and came back with a large towel and spread
it on the floor in front of me.

"Stand on the towel, it'll catch the hair."

So I stepped back on to it. The moment of ritual shaving had always
featured large in all my fantasies, So the immediate prospect of it turned
me on enormously. A real master shaving my real hair? What could be better!

He went back to his desk and returned with a cordless hair clipper. He
flattened his hand and rubbed the palm to and fro on my chest.

"Remember this sensation, remember how muffled the touch is."

He started at the line of hair that ran up between my pubes and my
chest. Although I shaved my genitals I only went an inch or two up from the
root of my cock, so I still had the bulk of my pubic hair. The clippers
tickled a bit as they moved. I was familiar with clippers, I had used them
for years and knew it was almost impossible to cut the skin, so I was not
bothered at all by their use. And their buzzing had an erotic association
as I used them on my pubes far more often than I did to cut my hair. The
line of hair was quickly dealt with and then the hair fell more densely as
he moved over my chest, circling round the nipples and running back and
forth over me as he laid it clean. I felt the air move on my skin as the
hair fell away. As he finished he ran his free hand over my chest.

"And now feel this." The difference took my breath away. The feeling of his
hand directly on my skin where every touch had been muffled by the hair was
intense beyond belief. It was like he had plugged electricity into
me. "Please don't stop" I thought. And then of course he stopped.

"Arms up" and he stripped my armpits in just a few sweeps of his hand .
"Bend." I felt the clippers moving over my arse and up between my thighs, a
little more menacing, a little more vulnerable here. Tickling too. But soon
he was done, stood me up and came in front of me again.

"Now, the last sign of your masculinity."

He went on one knee, and in just a few purposeful strokes my bush was gone.

It was a strange sight to look down on. Where before I'd always imagined
that I was looking down over a miniature forest that stretched down across
a plain to another forest way off in the distance, now there was only a
vast barren featureless plain of flesh all the way. It all looked totally
exposed. Which, I supposed, was the point of this shaving. To make me feel
even more exposed. Exposed to him. Easy prey.

I didn't think these things out of fear, you understand. I thought them
because I found all this to be delightful. And very erotic. Especially as
he was now exploring all this newly bare flesh, running his hands up and
down my front while I delighted in this new intimate touch.

When he finished exploring, he got me to pick up the towel by the corners
to take it to the window and shake it out. So I did, opening the window to
lean naked out of it and shake the towel, watching my newly abandoned hair
floating away into the darkness, the cool night air swirling around all
over my front in an intimate embrace. I felt as if I had ceased to exist
physically, I was only this fuzzy ball of growing lust and sensation.

"Come on then, don't just stand there!" His voice snapped me back to
reality.

"Sorry, sir," I mumbled, and turned to go back toward him.

"Fold the towel, put it on the desk, then come back to stand here." I
folded it neatly, laid it on the desk and went to resume my position.

He handed me a chain with a clip at each end and nodded toward the beam
above my head.

"You're taller than me, put this over the two hooks in the beam so the ends
hang down."

I looked up and saw the two hooks which were a couple of feet apart. I
hooked the chain over them, the ends hung down just below the beam itself.

"Excellent, well done. I've used the gloves for long enough, now it's time
for you to have your hands restrained properly. I think you're ready for
it." In his hand he had what looked like leather wrist cuffs with some
loose bit hanging at the end. My balls twitched a little at the sight.

"Hold out your hand," came the order. "Palm up."

I saw now the the loose bit was in fact a soft black leather bag that was
attached to the lining of the cuff. He moved it up toward my hand.

"Bend your fingers, make a fist."

I obeyed and he slipped the bag over my hand and began to buckle the cuff
around my wrist. The bag was short but not that tight, my thumb and fingers
could move inside it, but it was short enough that my fingers were held
curled back toward my palm. I could no longer open my hand. The cuff had a
large D ring on one side. As he worked he spoke again.

"Something for you to remember. There's a good reason for using this kind
of hand restraint. It is to deny you the use of your hands. The hands are
the most active part of the body. We use them to actively touch and feel
things. But as the submissive you are not permitted to be active in any
way. Therefore your hands will remain shut away, so you have no means of
touching anything with them. As a result you will not ever touch or feel my
body with your hands, and you will certainly never be allowed to touch my
penis. As my submissive it is so far superior to you in the order of things
that for you to handle it would be far too familiar behaviour. And if you
were to handle it, that would make you the active one which, as I've said,
is not permitted. And so it will always exist at one step removed from you,
just out of your reach. And as we always want what we can't have, this will
take your desire for it to a higher level."

As he talked he continued to dress me. The other hand was wrapped and
buckled, the belt went round my waist.

I found his words quite comforting. Had he suddenly waved his penis in
front of me and said 'go on, use your hands to please me' I would have
found it very stressful, as I wouldn't been sure what to do, I would maybe
have been clumsy and not have pleased him, being totally inexperienced. It
was a thought that had crossed my mind each time I got near his penis. What
would I do if....? It made a little ripple of doubt in the calm of my
submission So if anything it kind of reassured me to know my hands would
remain out of bounds and unused.

And then I was bent over for the buttplug. Instantly I was aware anew of
the loss of the use of my hands. I went to put thumb and forefinger either
side of each knee as I would normally but couldn't, the stumps I was now
left with gave no purchase and just slid down.

He had changed to a somewhat larger buttplug in past weeks. While this one
was bulkier overall, enough to make me wince a little as it entered, the
main difference was that it had a much thicker stem and so once inside
stretched my sphincter more all the while it was in place. He said that the
extra feeling of fullness would enhance the sensations, and that the
thicker stem would increase my sense of openness, of accepting his power
over me. As he worked it in it stretched me more and more each time.

"Just relax, give in and open up for me. Open for me" I heard him cooing
from behind. And as I relaxed it slipped past my sphincter which seized the
base in an iron grip. He was certainly right, it made me much more aware of
being penetrated, and that sensation seemed to bring out even more docility
and acceptance in me all the while it was there.

The belt was already around my waist so the plug was soon tied in
place. The sheath was over my genitals although this time he didn't tie it
tightly back between my legs, only enough that my penis was pulled down
just below the horizontal, enough to make it feel tightly
constrained. Given the state of my penis, pulling it back wasn't an option!

"Now, even though these new hand restraints are tight, it should be
possible for you to release yourself from them if needs be. You never know,
I might suddenly collapse with a heart attack or something. If you can't
release yourself we'd both be in a pretty pickle, wouldn't we. So see if
you can manage it while they're chained together."

With that, he clipped a short chain to the D rings. There was enough play
inside the bag that I could fairly easily grasp the end of the strap
between thumb and finger and get it undone.

"Excellent." He took the chain off and buckled the cuff up tightly again.

"Raise your arms." He took my right wrist and clipped one end to the chain
I had hung from the hooks, then moved in front of me to clip the left. My
arms were now suspended on either side of me, not stretched, just my wrists
raised, my upper arms level on each side.

"You can relax your arms now. Feet well apart." I shuffled my feet further
apart and looked across at the cuff on my wrist. Having these leather wrist
cuffs put on lit up an old familiar desire. I had developed a bit of a
fetish for leather bondage gear that dated back years. Before the internet
came along, leather cuffs and collars were about all anyone in the
mainstream could ever see of bondage gear. Seeing such cuffs now on my own
wrists had it's own erotic charge. I instinctively felt that the more he
restrained me the more submissive I would become.

Almost despite myself, the first sight of them had also lit up the word
'slave' in neon letters in my brain. I always associated the words 'leather
cuffs' with the word 'slave', they almost seemed joined at the hip to
me. But I wasn't a slave though was I. Or was I? Was I already the slave of
an admittedly very genial master, but still a master all the same? I had
certainly slavishly followed all his wishes so far. Or was the end purpose
of his training to have me become his slave? This was one of those
uncertainties that teased me with almost equal amounts of apprehension and
pleasure.

Meanwhile he had gone over to the wall where he switched on a spotlight
away to my left and high up on the wall. Suddenly I was flooded with
light. It felt like I was being exhibited on a stage, even more so as he
crossed to it to adjust it so that it pointed straight at me.

"Now I want you to see yourself as I know you, as your true sexual self."
He smiled and crossed to the tall mirror. It ran easily on castors as he
wheeled it across to face me, about eight feet away.

And suddenly there I was as I'd never seen myself before, submissive me,
lit dramatically from off to the side so my body was highlight and
shadow. Arms up, legs spread, tightly belted, genitals covered, my body
held in position as if for inspection. The sight overwhelmed me, mostly
because this was always how I'd imagined myself. I gazed as if in a trance
at this sudden transformation from fantasy into reality and knew his words
were true. This was how I truly belonged. He stood and looked at me, all
stayed still in the room for quite some time.

"Beautiful. That's how I want to draw you." Then he came up to me and
rubbed his hand over the sheath which was causing me some discomfort as I
had swollen mightily and was straining at the material in a bid for escape.

"Though this will have to come off, I want your passion on display." He
rubbed the bulge some more. "Though I think you may well tear it off
yourself if you carry on with this wanton exhibitionism!" He chuckled to
himself and then disappeared off to the side, and my gaze was drawn
inevitably back to my reflection.

I was aware of him moving a chair about while looking for the angle he
wanted to view me from. He put a small table by the chair and on it put a
large artist's drawing pad and some pencils. Then he came up behind me and
his face appeared in the mirror looking over my left shoulder, I saw his
arms come round each side of me, and then I was off into ecstasy again as I
saw as well as felt his hands moving over me, rubbing my belly, tweaking my
nipples, and most importantly sliding now over my bare skin with no hair to
deaden the touch. I felt and saw my hips begin to move in response, felt a
groan rise in my throat. Seeing it was like watching a video of what was
happening while feeling it at the same time, it was so sexy it was almost
unbearable.

And then he spoke to me again from behind, his breath warm in my ear, his
hands all over the front of my body as I delighted in the intimacy of this
new hairless touch.

"What a pretty sight you make, letting your master have his way with
you. Does it turn you on as much as it turns me on?"

"Oh yes sir."

"Of course it does, how could it not.  But enough of the admiration of your
own body for the moment, give me your attention. Look away from yourself
now and look me in the eyes. There is something I want to tell you."

I lifted my gaze from my body and met his eyes. Even at this distance,
reflected, his steady gaze seemed to transfix me.

"I want to explain the difference between your sperm and and my seed in our
relationship. When I come on your face I am acting like any other dominant
animal. I am marking you as my territory by putting my scent on
you. Animals do it with scent glands, I do it with my seed. I rub it into
your face to mark you sexually as my property. It serves a purpose. But as
the submissive one, your sperm serves no purpose other than something you
produce as a sign of your sexual release. Up till now with me, your sperm
has only been emitted onto your own body, it does not serve to mark
anything out.

"Though I very much enjoy having you come on to your own body, my rubbing
it into your own skin is simply tidying everything up. Symbolically it is
an attempt to put it back where it came from, to put it back into your
body. It would be nice to make that a bit less symbolic. As it has come
from you, and is not of use for anything else, then it would make a nice
organic circle for it to go back into your body in a more direct way."

His hands moved downward, one rubbing my belly while the other closed round
my genitals to pull them gently from side to side.

"Tonight I shall be giving you your orgasm standing up so I don't want you
spurting everywhere. I don't want any mess on my carpet. Therefore I intend
to have you come into a condom and I will then feed it's contents back into
you via your mouth. Seeing a submissive swallow his own seed for the
pleasure of his master is a very satisfying and erotic experience. And it
makes a nice organic loop as instead of it being thrown away, you get to
absorb back into you that which you have sown so nothing goes to waste.

"And my carpet stays spotless" he added with a grin. Then, a moment later
"Is that agreeable to you?".

"Yes, sir. Thank you sir." We had talked about this before when we'd been
out of an evening. He'd asked me if I had tried swallowing my own sperm,
have I done it in the past, and I said that I had. I just wanted to find
out how it tasted. It turned out mine had a mild taste, hard to describe,
but nothing of the strong taste I'd read of in fiction. I'd done it
occasionally, but not regularly, although I did find that I had to swallow
it as soon as possible after coming, or I would lose the urge When he had
asked I had said I'd no objection to doing it again.

And so we remained for a while, his hands constantly moving, squeezing and
pulling at my flesh as we both enjoyed the reflection. I felt his body warm
against my back, so guessed that he had freed his robe to give skin
contact, a thought that was confirmed when I felt his penis begin to rise
between my legs.

All too soon he moved away, and came round in front of me. He held up the
plug for my mouth.

"That's enough looking and talking for the moment." he said. "Now I want
you to have you concentrate solely on feel and touch and the anticipation
of touch. "Open up," and he slipped the plug into my mouth.

"That takes care of the speaking, and this will take care of the looking."
He held up a blindfold. "Close your eyes."

I did and he put it up to my eyes and slipped the elastic over to the back
of my head. I opened my eyes again and everything was still black though I
could sense some light around the edges of the blindfold from the spotlight
that was still trained on me. His voice came out of the dark.

"I'm going to start the drawing now. Posing for a drawing involves quite a
long periods of inactivity alas, so just relax and make the best of
it. Concentrate on how it feels to have your body displayed like this for
me, be aware that I am studying you constantly as I try to capture you on
paper just as I have caught you in reality." I heard him chuckle at this,
he obviously enjoyed the comparison. "But don't worry, I won't be ignoring
you completely.  After all, I need your cock stiff for my drawing so I will
be giving you some attention from time to time to stop you flagging. So,
shall we begin? Don't try to speak, just nod for yes. Or shake your head
no."

I nodded. Of course I did.

"Good boy, we'll start then."

There was silence for a few moments, then I twitched at a touch on my
groin, felt him take the elastic on the sheath to stretch it, pulling it
down and off me letting my penis finally spring free. He took the shaft in
one hand and rubbed slowly up and down while his other hand cupped my balls
and rolled them around. I think I groaned. Or maybe I just thought I
groaned, it was difficult to tell what was real in this darkness. Then all
touch was gone. I heard him sit down, then it was silent and I was alone
with myself.

It was so strange, standing there in the dark, fully aware of my nakedness,
every inch of my skin aware of the touch of the air as it moved. My ears
straining for the least sound of his movement. In this silence and darkness
I found myself beginning to drift into a kind of dream state.

My self of self gradually faded away, all the outside influences, my work,
my friends, my family, everything in my identity all ceased to exist and I
became nothing but the desire to be taken and used sexually, held open and
available for it as I was, every cell in my body just waiting expectantly
for it to happen.

I soon lost all track of time. How long I was left there? I have no idea,
time ceased to have meaning. Every so often something would happen to
reassure me that I wasn't waiting in vain, but these moments were
short-lived and then I would be left with just the timelessness and the
desire.

Suddenly, all my senses exploded back into reality and my whole body
twitched as something cool and flat touched my stomach and began to rub it,
sliding smoothly over my skin with a slight pulling sensation. It moved up
my chest and rubbed over one nipple, then made it's way across to rub the
other one. I was trying to guess what it was. Then it left the nipple,
moved down and around my body over my hip, rubbing in little circles as it
went until it moved onto my buttock. There it paused, motionless, just
pressing into my skin. Then it was gone, and with a crack it landed back
down in a swift slap. Of course, the paddle! He rubbed and smacked me
pretty much everywhere, the sharp smack followed by a meandering to the
next part of my body, pressing silently into me, then the next smack. And
again. And finally the feel of his fingers at the tip of my fully standing
penis until I felt a movement within my cock as my precum burst on the
scene and then his fingers were sliding seductively all over the head again
until my knees sagged as I began the climb to orgasm. It was a deeply
fulfilling sensation. But then the touch was gone

Then nothing but waiting . .

Waiting . . .

Waiting . .


For a long time the only sound was an occasional rustle of paper or the
scratch of material as he moved a bit, but I never heard him rise or
approach, he must have moved slowly so as to take me unawares.

Just when it seemed I was doomed to stay there alone forever I began to get
a sense that he was close, just in front of me. Was it the warmth of his
body on a draught of air, a subtle sound, his breath disturbing the air? I
didn't know, I just felt that he was there. It felt like he was within an
inch or so away from touching me. The sensation was very strong and I felt
my penis start to rise in anticipation. I couldn't tell in my darkness but
it soon felt as if it was standing fully erect in front of me. But nothing
happened, just this sense of his continual presence and my need to be
touched. I had no sense of time either, so I know not how long it lasted,
but I felt certain that my penis had come fully erect in anticipation. All
of a sudden I got my reward, a light touch came on the head of my penis
that made my entire body jump. Then manipulation of the head between finger
and thumb until once again the precum leaked out so his fingers slid
smoothly around driving me to distraction until I moaned through the
gag. But as soon as I began to sense the peak approaching they were gone
and only empty air touched my member as it seemed to sniff the air around
it for any means of satisfaction. His voice came gently into my ear.

"What a good boy, my presence alone can excite you."

And then his voice was gone. I heard him sit back down in his chair.


Waiting . .

How was it I came to be here, I wondered, how fast it seemed to have
happened. How quickly events had moved from dreaming my own secret dreams
to finding myself here, standing naked and displayed before this man who
had so mysteriously taken me under his spell. And whose cock I now so
needed to suck. The plug in my mouth wouldn't let me forget, poor
substitute though it was for the real thing. Was he going to come in my
mouth this time? I couldn't know for certain, but I surely hoped he
might. And why did I feel so gloriously at home here?

Waiting . . .


Waiting . . .


Then he was there again, making my body jump as he took my nipples in a
steady grip and began to roll and pull them around, stretching them. Then
feeling the ends of his fingers on either side of my belly running down
over my thighs, then back up and down again, up and down, each time moving
inward a little until they almost touched my genitals each time they
passed. I realised he must be on one knee to do this, and the thought that
his face must be close to my penis studying it as it rose certainly sped up
it's rising. Just a couple of times his fingers brushed against my cock and
balls as they passed but then the touch was gone. I waited for another
touch elsewhere, but no touch came although my entire being was waiting
desperately for it.

And then he was gone, I could sense him no more and I dropped back into the
dark, but now with the need for his touch redoubled. Once again my sense of
self faded again until all that existed was my sexual desire, my nakedness
and my awareness of his presence.


Waiting . .


I knew his touch would be coming, but I didn't know when, or where, or
how. It was as if I was just hanging there in space, waiting . . . . .


Waiting . . . No sense of time passing, not knowing how long I had been
there . . .


Waiting . . .


And then in my darkness I heard the sound of a vibrator. Moments later my
whole body twitched as he put the vibrator up against the base of the butt
plug. The vibrations went up into my arse and a new sensation began to
arise. It was like the whole area of my body above my balls was being
stimulated. After a few moments he began to press the plug more firmly into
me, and to use it to move the base of the plug around so the vibrations
were now moving inside of me. Out of this came a new wave of pleasure I had
not known before. Rather than being focused on my testicles or my penis,
this was an all invasive yet subtle pleasure that was removed from
them. They were still part of it but they only existed on the fringes of
it. It felt as if a whole section of my lower body was dissolving and
merging into one large glowing unit. And the pleasure just grew more the
more he moved and vibrated the plug inside of me until it grew into a wave
that made me groan aloud. I think my knees might have given way had my arms
not been secured above my head to hold me up.

Then all of a sudden the vibrations stopped and he left me hanging there
for a while. A couple of minutes of silence maybe as the feeling slowly
began to subside. I was just coming to my senses enough to think 'what was
that all about' when I heard the vibrator start up again. The moment it
pressed back on the plug the feeling of dissolving burst back again almost
instantaneously and in just a few seconds fresh groans were coming from my
lips as it spread through my body.

I was totally confused. What was all this coming just from a buttplug up my
bottom?

He turned it off again

 I didn't know quite what was happening to me or where it was all going,
but it was so all consuming a feeling that I had no resistance.

Then his voice was soft in my ear.

"You liked that, didn't you my boy?"

"Oh god sir, yes, sir"

"You've never had your prostate tickled before then I gather? I shall have
to give it a proper massage before too long. But only if you keep on being
a good boy for me."

Then he was gone again, back to his bloody drawing!


Waiting . . .

Left in silence and isolation again. All there was just me, totally
consumed in my own sexuality, hanging there waiting, my need now
intensified by my stinging buttocks.

Waiting . . .

Waiting . . .


It started again with a sudden sharp stinging sensation on my right lower
back just above my buttocks, along with the sound of a small slap. Ouch!
Then again towards the left. Ouch!! I said it in my mind stifled as I was
by the plug in my mouth, all that came out was a grunt. Another in the
centre. Each time three or four seconds between each. My mind reeled. What
was this? Another sting towards the left. Then another. Then they began to
work their way back over to the right. There was a dawning sensation in my
mind. Could this be? I now felt the line turn down my body, down round the
edge of my bottom past the hip and onto my thigh. Could he be using a
riding crop? The very thought brought new sensation to my balls and I felt
my cock stir. The stinging now came in a line across the back of one thigh
to the other, then slowly began to climb back up past my buttocks again on
the right side back to where they had begun. I'd always had a fascination
about the riding crop. An instrument that was designed to sting, to urge a
horse forward, not to injure and wound. It's thinness and delicacy were
aesthetically pleasing. It was the only one of all what I suppose you'd
call 'instruments of punishment' that had any erotic appeal for me. A kind
of fearful appeal to be sure, but erotic all the same.

As the line of stinging sensation made it's way circling ever closer to the
centre of my buttocks, getting ever more deliberate and stronger as it
went, so my hips wriggled a bit, my back arched and I stuck out my arse
towards the blows in encouragement, just as I had under the paddle. My mind
was lost in the the revelation that I was indeed having yet another
experience only ever before explored in other than fantasy.

Then a short sharp longer burst of stinging all over the centre of my
buttocks, fiercer now. I think I groaned out loud, yet still my arse stuck
out for more.

Then it stopped and there was nothing but silence and the glowing heat of
my rear.

Then again the fingers rubbing tightly on my helmet, the release of precum
coming sooner, much sooner this time so His fingers slid smoothly over the
surface making me feel like the orgasm I needed so much was closer than
ever.


But then he was gone again.


Waiting . . .


Waiting . . .


His voice leapt out of the dark close to me. Again my body jumped, shocking
me back into reality as it did each time he came back to me for a while.

"Open your mouth" came the command, and he took the plug from my
mouth. Then three fingers slipped into my mouth and over my tongue holding
it down as they slid back and forth over it. I felt his thumb under my chin
giving him a firm grip on my jaw. He pulled my head around, pulling it up
so my head was tilted right back, drawing it down toward my chest and from
side to side. All over the place he pulled it, firmly exerting his control
over me, his command of my body. When he pulled my head down, saliva came
running, dribbling out of my mouth and down onto my chest to run down
towards my belly. 'Drooling like a baby' was the thought that ran through
my head and a flush ran through me of what I assumed must be humiliation.

Just as suddenly as they arrived, the fingers were gone. Once again he took
hold of the tip of my penis and rolled it. I tilted my head down as if to
see what he was doing.

 "See how hard I can make you with just my fingers in your mouth. You love
having me in your mouth don't you, my boy"

"Yes sir, I love it," I said, saliva drooling from the corner of my mouth.

This time his touch did not stop with my precum and the start of my climb
towards orgasm. My penis grew ever more heated and my balls tighter as his
thumb slid around my helmet. But then it stopped and I felt a different
sensation at the head of my cock. His voice came in my ear.

"Time for you to see once more."

I blinked in the sudden glare of light as he pulled the blindfold up and
off. Still my cock was being worked and the feeling of orgasm was
growing. As my sight cleared I looked down and saw that he had put the
condom on my cock, not all the way as usual, but only just past the head,
His left hand was round my shaft holding the condom in place while the
fingers of his other hand danced all around my helmet. Squeezing and
sliding, rubbing and pulling, they slowly drew my orgasm up from my
testicles all the way until my whole body writhed as I saw and felt my
sperm jet out into it's rubber container. Once, twice, three times. As I
subsided his left hand squeezed tightly down the length of my penis milking
out the final drops. He took the end of the condom off my cock, gripping
the opening tight between his finger and thumb as it came off.

"Chin up," he said. "Open your mouth."

I obeyed, tilting my chin up. He brought the condom up to my mouth, lifting
the opposite end with his other hand as he dropped the open end into my
mouth. His hand went up to the tip just under his other hand, his thumb and
finger closed on the condom and slowly slid down pushing the contents out
into my mouth.

The first bit ran over my tongue to my throat and was swallowed
automatically. I dropped my chin as the rest arrived so it stayed stayed in
my mouth and I could taste it. I first tasted it when I was young, and have
occasionally since, but I've always struggled to describe that taste in
words even to myself. I can never think of any other taste to relate it
to. Back then I was expecting a strong and somewhat bitter taste but it was
much milder than I expected, and it was the same now. I swirled it around
in my mouth as it mixed with my saliva before swallowing it.

He was still standing in front of me. I dropped my head and as I looked
down between our bodies I saw his penis standing fully erect. I gazed at it
with a new kind of longing which grew as I watched. I felt a slight burning
sensation in the back of my mouth and throat, the aftertaste of my own
semen.

He reached up in front of me to free the chain from the hooks, then let it
drop down between us. I was already dropping to my knees as it fell. I
overbalanced slightly as I did and instinctively put my muffled hands out
to save me. They landed on his thighs, but by then I was entirely occupied
on getting his penis in my mouth as soon as humanly possible. So they just
rested there. He was perfectly correct, I couldn't feel his actual body at
all, it could have been any solid object they were resting on.

I dived deep onto his cock, all the way down to the back of my mouth,
holding it there as I rocked my head a little from side to side, the tip
pressing against one side of my mouth and then the other, before pulling it
back to release my tongue from underneath it so I could lick and suck at
his helmet.

The combination of the taste of his cock and the sensation in the back of
my throat from my own sperm merged together in a cocktail that was
intoxicating. I licked and sucked and dribbled as if my life depended on
it. I pulled off him completely and used my lips to squeeze and run his
helmet before plunging down onto him until I felt my throat contract in a
spasm, his pubic hair filling my vision, then sealed my lips around his
shaft as I bobbed my head back and forward sliding all along his length. I
don't know how long this all went on, I was lost in some kind of erotic
reverie, time simply seemed to have ceased once more.

Eventually, alas, he pulled me off his cock as usual keeping one hand on my
head. But this time he didn't pump, he stroked and massaged the head
between his fingers just as I had felt him do to me. I sensed that he was
bringing himself to the brink as slowly as he could. He began rubbing the
really sensitive bit on the underside of his helmet against my nose, his
cockhead huge in my vision. I watched as his it swelled ever more purple
and engorged, more and more until suddenly with a deep grunt he pulled back
and came splendidly all over my waiting face. I just knelt there, the taste
of my own sperm still in the back of my throat and his seed all over my
face, lost in a reverie of total sensual sexuality.

I felt some sorrow that it was only my own sperm I had swallowed, not
his. He tilted my head back and smiled down at me as he began to spread his
seed all over my face, marking me as his once again. He knew what I was
thinking.

"Don't worry, my boy. You'll get what you really want all in good time. I
just can't resist making you wait for it."

As I got up I spotted the riding crop lying on the table next to the
paddle. So I was right. The sight of it's long slender shape sent a
thrilled shiver down my spine. A shiver of anticipation and arousal mingled
with just a touch of fear.

He gave me a big smile as he closed his bathrobe and tied the belt. He
unbuckled the wrist cuffs freeing my hands.

"Coffee time!" he said and set off for the kitchen. I freed the cords
holding the buttplug in place, took off the belt and laid it on the
table. I slowly drew the buttplug out, wincing slightly as it made it's way
past my sphincter, then followed the established routine of taking it to
the bathroom, scrubbing it clean and drying it with some tissues. Cleaning
up after myself as he called it. Once it was done I made my way back to the
lounge and laid it on the table with the other things..

I stood there for a while, my eyes drawn inevitably back to the crop. I
couldn't resist picking it up. It was the first time I'd ever seen one in
the flesh as it were, let alone handled one. It was very light and leather
bound from the handle to the folded leather spanker at the tip with a loop
to go over the wrist by the handle. As I bent it in my hands feeling the
flexibility of the shaft I was electrified by the feelings it aroused in
me. A strong sense of desire for sure, but mixed with almost equal amounts
of fear and dread. Not so much fear of the crop itself, but fear coming
from the realisation that the idea of punishment from it aroused me so
strongly. I'd had no problem with being turned on by a spanking from the
paddle, but this made me wonder in what direction my desires might lead
me. I hurriedly dropped it back onto the table, as if trying to reject
these troubling thoughts before they could really take hold, then picked up
the other bathrobe and put it on.

It still had no belt. I'd asked him about this, he'd just smiled and said
"Damn, you've seen through my cunning plan!". But then added that in the
aftermath of a session it was correct that he should be covered while I
remained somewhat exposed as our roles died down again. I'd suspected that,
but didn't really care, I was perfectly happy either way as being naked
with him seemed perfectly natural.

It was always a very peaceful and amicable atmosphere after a session. We'd
both gone through this long buildup, both had our orgasms, so the general
attitude was that all was right with the world. He always went off to make
coffee or fetch wine. We often didn't talk that much, just co-existed
happily and slowly came down from the high we'd reached.

I did ask him about his drawing, how it went, could I see it? Not until
it's finished was his reply. It needed more work, so I would have to put up
with another session with me back in the same position. I told him that far
from being something to put up with, it was something for me to look
forward to and he could take as many sessions as he wanted!

After a while he brought up the subject of the crop, saying that it seemed
that I'd enjoyed it as he'd seen how I had arched my back and stuck my rear
out as if inviting it. I said that I had, but also confessed to my
misgivings about getting into punishment.

"There's no need to worry," he said. "Enjoying it does not make you a
masochist or anything like that. It's well known that as anyone gets turned
on their pain threshold rises, so what would normally be painful becomes
pleasurable. Masochists need the intensity to rise well beyond that into
real pain to get satisfaction, and they need a sadist to put them through
it. You're no masochist and I'm certainly no sadist. Tonight was pretty
much as far as I go anyway, though you might well find that a longer
encounter with the crop makes you stick your bottom out even further. Who
knows. We'll see. But don't be concerned, I have no desire to lead you into
pain."

Having reassured me on that score, he turned to a different subject.

"You'll remember that I spoke to you earlier about the idea that you may
well come to think of your genitals as no longer yours to touch freely any
more, and that I will be training you to encourage these feelings?"

"Yes, sir." To call him sir always seemed appropriate whenever he spoke as
my master, and it always made me a bit nervous as I knew an instruction was
coming.

He handed me what I thought at first was the sheath that he used to cover
my genitals.

"Put this on on."

As I stretched the elastic and slipped it over my cock and balls I noticed
it was made of the same material but had one subtle difference. This one
came down over the end of my cock but was open at the end.

"With that in mind, it's time to increase my control over you, to make it a
bit stronger. Although stronger is perhaps not the right word. You've been
following my instructions and reduced your masturbation for a while now,
which is pleasing. Let's just say I want to make my control over your
genitals more evident, more obvious to you in your everyday life.

"So from now on your genitals will remain covered at all times in between
our meetings. Wearing this sheath means that you are no longer allowed to
see or touch them, and will no longer have free access to them. I want you
to lose that familiarity you currently have with them as a part of your
body that you touch and probably fondle on a regular basis. As your master
my wish is for you to come to see them as a part of you that belongs to me,
and that only I may touch. Your duty is to tend to them and keep them clean
for me until the next time that I require access to them.

"You will only remove the sheath to bathe or shower or shave yourself, and
it will go back on immediately afterwards. The open end is to enable you to
urinate, you'll be able to pull the end back enough for you to pee while
wearing it without touching your cock directly. You'll have to drop your
trousers to do this though, so if you are in a public toilet you'll have to
use a cubicle. I'll give you another one before you go, so you can have one
on and one in the wash.

" As you know I have no wish to exert any force to bring you into
submission, your cooperation must always be voluntary. So I'm not into
lockable devices and enforced chastity. All I require is that you follow my
wishes for the time being and find out for yourself if my instructions
raise your sense of submission and increase your sexual desire and
anticipation. Which is exactly what they are intended to do. And to be
honest with me about how your response to those wishes. Some things I
suggest will turn you on, others may not.

"So, then, what do you think? Do you want to obey me and give it a try?"

"Yes, sir, of course I will." What else could I say? I was well aware that
my sex life already belonged to him anyway.

__________________________________________________________________


AFTERMATH:

His words came back to me as I lay in bed later that night, my first night
with the sheath in place. As it held my cock and my balls together as one
unit, when on my back with a limp cock it tended to slide down between my
legs with every little movement and squeeze on my testicles, and if on my
side the combined mass of them hanging down from my groin in front of me as
one unit felt heavy. Whatever position I took I remained acutely aware of
them. And when I half woke up later during the night with a full erection,
getting back to sleep seemed a distant possibility. My balls were held up
against my cock, and the erection made the grip of the sheath on them that
much tighter making my erection impossible to ignore. As my erection lay on
my belly my balls were carried up above it so they rubbed against the
bedclothes every time I moved. I remember just lying there, trying to
resign myself to what seemed unrelenting lust and desire. What was this new
sleep depriving torment I'd let myself in for?

But it was also during that night as I remembered the taste of his cock in
my mouth and how I had sucked him so lustfully, only then did I realise it
was the first time I had sucked him after my own orgasm rather than
before. Previously he had always had me suck him while the desire to come
was still strong in me before giving me my orgasm.

In my earlier fantasies I had always regarded thoughts of other men's cocks
as threatening as well as alluring, and as I had confessed early on, when
fantasising as soon as I had come I would go off the whole idea almost
immediately and feel ashamed of myself for thinking that way. But now it
had all turned the other way round. I loved his cock, I couldn't get enough
of it. And as it appeared that he rarely did anything by chance I realised
that he had seen my growing desire for his cock and was confident that my
lust for it would remain strong even after my own climax. And so it had
been.

Now it seemed obvious to me that his orgasm's rightful place was to be the
climax of the evening. Of course it should be, him being the master and
all. I guessed he would be ticking off yet another box in the training
manual under 'Reorganising the submissive's priorities'.

And I did manage to get some sleep eventually!


Any comments are welcome at john_pearce321@yahoo.com
Thanks to everyone who commented on the first part