Date: Sat, 20 Apr 2019 16:00:44 +0000
From: Hugh Everett <hughev@hotmail.com>
Subject: From Husband to slave - Part 15 (Authoritarian)

From Husband to slave Part 15 -- Giles

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After the hard whippings from 2 Masters on the same day, Hugh was
determined to behave better and for the next few weeks, Guy was a little
disappointed that he had no cause to chastise his almost too-obedient
slave. Of course that didn't mean Hugh's arse remained completely
neglected.  There were still the daily bedtime spankings and maybe a dose
of the crop or paddle to "warm him up" for a fucking from Guy.

One Wednesday evening, Guy was out for dinner with his work colleague,
Giles and so Hugh had a rare, relaxing evening to himself, eating exactly
what he wanted and lying on the sofa, albeit just in his jockstrap, without
part of him being on alert in case he had to leap up to serve his Master in
some way.  At 11pm Hugh received a text: `Home in 10, nees.'  It took him a
moment to work out that the `k' was missing from the order and was
surprised, as Guy was usually meticulously correct, even in a text.

When Guy arrived 15 minutes later, he took a while to get his key in the
door.  Hugh was torn. His order was to wait on his knees, not to stand and
open the door, but given the fumbling he could hear outside, should he get
up and let his Master in?  He was about to get up when the key finally
turned and Guy lurched in.  "Why didn't you let me in, stupid slave?" was
Guy's slightly slurred greeting and Hugh realized he was quite drunk after
his night out with the hard-drinking Giles. "Come and help me get
undressed," added Guy, heading up the stairs.  He sat on the edge of the
bed while Hugh carefully took off his shoes and socks then rose a little
unsteadily to his feet to allow his slave to take off the rest of his
clothes.  As soon as he was naked, Guy ordered Hugh to fetch the riding
crop for his bedtime spanking, `to cure his laziness in the hall.'  Hugh
felt indignant at this unfair accusation of laziness, as he was only
following orders, but knew better to argue, especially as Guy could be
unpredictable when he was this drunk.  Instead he obediently brought the
crop, handed it to his Master with head bowed, then bent himself over the
bed, ass raised up for punishment.

Guy wasted no time in bringing the crop down hard across his slave's
proffered buttocks and didn't give Hugh any time to compose himself before
the next blow came crashing down.  Guy's aim was not as precise as usual
and several times, as he brought the crop down off-centre, the little
leather square curved round painfully on the sides of Hugh's buttocks,
causing him to yelp.  After 8 or 9 strokes, Guy got bored with the effort,
dropped the crop to the floor and climbed into bed. "Come to bed and suck
me off" he ordered and Hugh shifted his stinging arse as quickly as he
could to obey.  After only a few minutes of nursing his Master's semi-hard
cock in his mouth, Hugh heard the sounds of snoring from above and realized
any further ministrations from his devoted mouth would be wasted.

Although Hugh was kneeling dutifully as usual beside his Master's bed, cup
of tea already in place on the night stand when the alarm went off the next
morning, Guy woke up in a foul, hung-over mood and ended up giving Hugh
another 4 strokes of the crop for laying out the wrong colour socks with
his suit.  This added to Hugh's sense of indignation from the night before
as they were the same socks he always laid out with that suit.  He breathed
a sigh of relief as Guy left the house, but had no time to relax as his
annual check-up for their health insurance was at 10am.

Arriving a little early at the clinic, Hugh browsed through a magazine,
still stewing on his Master's unreasonableness and tried to find a
comfortable position for his sore behind on the hard waiting room chair.
His mood improved considerably, though, when he was called into a
consulting room and saw the handsome, muscular Dr Mathews waiting for
him. Hugh was used to his own GP, who was nearly 70 and had wispy white
hair growing out of his ears and so the 30 something stud in front of him
now was a very pleasant surprise.

The handsome Dr Mathews had a deep voice with a trace of an accent that
Hugh couldn't quite place and even the mundane questions about exercise,
smoking and units of alcohol took on a certain charm for his new patient.
Hugh's enjoyment of the consultation was ruined, however, when Dr Mathews
asked him to take off his trousers and underpants for a prostate exam.  He
realized immediately that the marks from last night and this morning's
beatings would be clearly visible to the doctor as soon as he stripped.
Hugh tried to stall: "They didn't do a prostate exam last year."  "Yes,
change of policy form the insurance company. We only used to do it for men
over 40, but there has been a rise of younger men developing prostate
cancer, so we've started examining anyone over 30. Now, trousers and pants
down and on the table please Mr Everett," the doctor continued, whilst
putting on a blue medical glove.  Blushing furiously, Hugh complied. Dr
Mathews was very gentle with the rectal exam and the sensation of a gloved
finger up his ass and the doctor's other, bare hand placed firmly on the
small of his back, would have been a sensual experience if he hadn't been
so embarrassed about his whipped buttocks.

Dr Mathews calmly told him to get dressed and come back to the chair by his
desk. When Hugh was seated, he looked intently at his patient and said, "Mr
Everett, I couldn't help noticing during your prostate examination that
your buttocks are marked from a recent beating....from a riding crop, if
I'm not mistaken."  `Those bloody telltale square bruises,' Hugh thought to
himself, blushing even harder.  "May I ask who did this to you?" the doctor
continued.  Hugh started to reply, "My Mas," before correcting himself to
"My husband."  Dr Mathews remained silent, looking concerned, but not
shocked, so Hugh found the courage to continue, "We are in a Master/slave
relationship and my Master was not satisfied with my service last night or
this morning, so beat me with a riding crop.  Dr Mathews considered for a
moment and then asked, "and is this relationship consensual?" "Yes Sir, I
willing signed a Master/slave contract a few months ago."  The `Sir' had
slipped out unconsciously as Hugh went from respected private patient,
right back to slave-mode in a few minutes.

Dr Mathews smiled and turned back to his desk to write something, then
folded the note into an envelope.  He handed this to Hugh with another
smile and said, "Give this to your Master.  Goodbye Hugh."

Back at home, Hugh examined the envelope Dr Mathew's had handed him.  It
was simply addressed to `Hugh's Master.'  Hugh spent an anxious rest of the
day wondering what the contents could be. Blackmail? Notice of an official
complaint to Hugh's company?  A proposal?

Even when Guy arrived home at 7pm, Hugh's anxious wait was not over as Guy
left him kneeling in the hall while he went to get changed.  When his
Master came back down, already in pajamas, and ordered him to get up and
carry on with dinner, Hugh took his chance and handed over the doctor's
note before heading into the kitchen. He dared not glance back to see Guy's
reaction to the mystery message.  As he brought the plates of pasta into
the dining room, Guy motioned him to sit.  He was smiling enigmatically.
"Been spilling the beans about us to complete strangers, have we?"  he
enquired.  Hugh explained about the prostate exam and the crop marks and
added "I thought I had better be honest about our relationship Sir and
reassure the doctor that it was consensual."

"You did that all right," replied Guy, still smiling, "but you needn't have
worried.  Turn's out he's a Master too and has had a live-in slave boy for
over a year. He wants to meet me to compare notes."  Of all the scenarios
Hugh had gone through as to the contents of the note, he hadn't thought of
that one!  Talk about appearances being deceptive -- Dr Mathews seemed so,
well, straight - sexually and in his general character.  Hugh wanted to ask
more, but Guy was not in a talkative mood after his hung-over day at work
and silenced Hugh with a raised palm.

The following week, Guy announced that he would be out that night to meet
Dr Mathews, or Master Shem as Hugh was now to refer to him.  Hugh spent the
rest of the day and evening wondering what notes the 2 Masters would
compare.  He received a text from Guy at about 10pm simply saying `On way
home.'  This threw Hugh, as it contained neither a number of minutes, nor a
`knees' or `door' instruction.  He thought he'd better get in position on
his knees straight away to be on the safe side.  His knees were getting
sore half an hour later when Guy finally arrived home.  His Master looked
down at him briefly and issued the curt order, "Bedroom, NOW."  Hugh raced
up the stairs and sank back onto his aching knees on the floor at the foot
of the bed.  Guy followed him up.  It seemed his chat with Master Shem had
made quite an impact.  Without preamble, he launched into the little speech
he had rehearsed in the cab on the way home, "Turns out I have been much
too easy on you slave boy.  Master Shem keeps his slave, Eric, constantly
marked and hungry, rations his orgasms and he says you have far too much
free time on your hands during the day."  Hugh took all this in silently,
head bowed.  It wasn't at all what he had hoped from the Masters' meeting.
Guy's next words shocked him even more: "Now fetch the cane for your
bedtime spanking."  Hugh couldn't help himself.  He looked up pleadingly at
his Master.  According to Guy's `tariffs,' the cane was only for serious
offences such as disobeying a direct order.  Since the terrible experience
with the cane after he was late back from lunch with his friend Gina, Hugh
had done nothing remotely bad enough to warrant the use of this scary
implement.

Guy ignored Hugh's silent pleading and simply said very slowly and quietly,
"Fetch the cane. Now."

Hugh obeyed and brought the cane, bowing his head as he handed it to his
Master.  Guy ordered him to bend over the back of the bedroom chair and
then said, "You will remain absolutely silent during your punishment. You
need to learn to take pain stoically for your Master's pleasure.  6 strokes
for bedtime spanking, 2 extra for hesitating when I ordered you to fetch
the cane and additional strokes for moving, trying to protect yourself or
making any noise. Understood?"

"Yes Master," was Hugh's miserable reply. The strokes were not as hard as
after the Gina lunch, but still very painful and by the seventh and eighth
it was taking all Hugh's willpower to remain silent.  He was biting the
inside of his cheeks and gripping the padded arms of the chair with all his
might.  After the eighth stroke, he heard Guy put down the cane and unzip
his fly. Hugh then felt Guy's powerful hand grab his hair and twist him
round from bending position to kneeling; facing the hard, dripping cock
that had been released from his Master's suit trousers.  "Open" barked Guy
and shoved his whole dick into Hugh's throat as soon as he obeyed.  Hugh's
deep-throating had improved a lot since he became Guy's slave, but this
sudden invasion of his throat didn't give him time to adjust and he was
choking and gagging from the start.  He eyes were streaming and spit was
drooling from his mouth by the time Guy roared and shot a huge load down
his slave's throat.  Once he had licked clean the spit and residual spunk
from his Master's knob, he sank down further to kiss Guy's highly polished
shoes in thanks.  He followed his Master's order to undress him and his
heart sank further when Guy noticed how stained his trousers were from
Hugh's drooling during the face fucking.  "You've made a fucking mess of
your Master's trousers, stupid slave. No breakfast for you."

When Hugh was finally allowed to crawl into bed, silent tears of
humiliation soaked into his pillow as Guy contentedly dropped off to sleep.

End of Part 15