Date: Sun, 4 Mar 2018 21:07:58 -0500
From: Bus Pender <buspender@aol.com>
Subject: Breaking Ethan 4

Breaking Ethan 4 :
Initiation
by Bus Pender

........

This is a work of gay fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is
entirely unintentional.  This text deals with sexual relations between two
men.  If you find this offensive, if you are underage or if possession of
this text is illegal in your area, please leave now.  This story is not
intended to promote any action on the part of the reader.  It is merely a
fantasy and I hope you appreciate it as such.

Feedback welcome.

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........


I waited another three days before calling Ethan.  I wanted him to have
time to get even more horned up and uncomfortable than he already was.  It
was Sunday, just before 6 am.  He answered on the first ring.  Unbelievable
that he'd be up so early, but there he was.

"I'm outside, let me in," I said, skipping the pleasantries.

"Um, what?"  He was evidently taken by surprise, confused.

"Ethan, I'm standing outside your door, let me in."

"You're ..?" he said.

".. outside your goddamn door, now open up."  I was starting to get angry.

"Um, but .. it's so early .. sir," he stammered.  His voice was early
morning cracky.

"Is there a problem, Ethan?," I asked.

"Um, no sir, it's just that .. um .. Mrs Dremel .. she's probably still
sleeping and .. "

"Then I guess we'll just have to be very quiet, won't we.  Now open the
fucking door and let me in before I start pounding on it," I demanded.

I heard a sharp intake of breath over the phone before he said, "yessir".

It took him about a minute to get there.  I suspected he was making himself
presentable in case Mrs Dremel was actually up and about.  I heard the door
unlock, quietly, and the chain sliding open, also quietly.  He eased the
door open.  I pushed past him and walked right in.  As we made our way into
his flat, I couldn't help noticing that Mrs Dremel's door was open just a
crack.

"Good morning Mrs Dremel," I blurted out, all loud and sunrise cheery.
Ethan looked at me in horror.  Her door closed silently, like the shell of
a giant clam.

We entered Ethan's apartment.  He was wearing pajamas -- dark blue and grey
stripes, very male -- and white socks.  He looked delightful .. a veritable
birthday present waiting to be unwrapped.  I got an instant erection the
second I saw him in his bedtime attire.

"I hope I didn't wake you, Ethan," I said insincerely.

"No sir, I was studying," he said.

"Well, it's time to take a break, Ethe."

"Yes sir."

"Where are the restraints?" I asked.

"Um, they're in my bedroom, sir."

"Well, go get them," I said impatiently.

Ethan went into his room and came back with the cuffs and key.  He handed
them to me.

"Good boy, Ethan.  Now why don't you sit down, you'll be more comfortable,"
I said.

"Yes sir."  He sat at a kitchen chair that I pulled out from the table.

"Good, now bring your arms in back of you."

He did as I instructed and I steered his hands through the spaces between
the rungs at the back of the chair; there was just enough room for them to
pass.  I cuffed his wrists together.

"There now, you aren't going anywhere unless you bring that chair with
you."

I pulled up a chair and sat beside him.  "How are you feeling, Ethe?," I
asked.

"I'm nervous.  Sir."

"Really, Ethan, there's no need to feel nervous.  We're just two old
friends about to have a bit of fun together, that's all."

I draped my arm over Ethan's shoulder and tenderly kissed the bruise on the
side of his neck.  He winced; it was probably still a bit tender.  The mark
had developed since I'd last seen him.  The colors had deepened and the
pattern had spread.  Some yellow had surfaced as a backdrop, and hints of
blue had emerged among the purples and reds.  The hickey now resembled a
geothermal map of some remote archipelago.

I moved my attention away from the blotch and worked my way along the side
of his neck, the silky arch taut beneath my probing lips.  I was treasuring
this level of physical intimacy with Ethan, and my senses were going wild.
I was immediately taken with the smell of him.  He smelled clean, fresh,
but it was more than that .. there was a subtle depth to his scent, as
though it was made up of multiple layers.  I imagined the woody aspect of a
freshly sharpened pencil.  An undercurrent of bread dough.  A suggestion of
slightly used linen?  Worn leather?  All parceled up, he had a `guy' smell.

I moved my hand up, through his mop of hair as I continued to kiss and
nuzzle the side of his neck, his jaw, up towards his ear.  He let out a
sigh, but there was tension in it as he started to squirm a bit.  The tip
of my tongue found the swirls of his ear and I played around wetly inside
the hollows while my left hand slid under his pajama top.  His body
stiffened as my hand made contact with his chest, my fingers groping for an
elusive nipple.  Finally, they hit pay dirt; his nipple was firm under my
touch, and I grazed it slightly.  He moaned.

His body felt exquisite.  Smooth, warm, firm with some give.  I wanted to
wrap myself around him and suck every square inch of his tantalizing flesh.

"You like this, don't you Ethan," I whispered.

"Um, it's okay I guess .. sir."

I maneuvered myself behind him, brought my other hand under his pajama top
and found the other nipple.  I played with them while kissing the back and
side of his neck.

"You're so full of shit, Ethan," I whispered.  "You fucking love this, and
even now you won't admit it."

He said nothing, but the tiny gasps he was uttering spoke for him.  I
started to unbutton his pajama top, slowly, starting at the top, pausing
between buttons to play with his nipples.  His gasps turned into quiet
moans, gaining in urgency with each button that I popped.  I took my sweet
time; I wanted this prelude to stir him up good.  He was trying hard to
suppress the sounds he was making, but it was impossible; they issued from
him like water bubbling up from a subterranean hot spring.

When the last button was undone, his top fell open, revealing a smooth
white chest, with sparse patches of fine down.  His rosy nipples stood
firmly at attention.  His chest was heaving; he was breathing fast.  I
pulled the pajama top off his shoulders, letting it slide down his bound
arms.  He was now, for all intents and purposes, naked from the waist up.
Yum.

I brought a hand up and held his face tenderly as I kissed his cheek, the
side of his mouth.  I could feel his morning stubble against my lips.  It
was rough and raspy, reminiscent of a boy who'd just started to shave.  I
brought my head around in front of him and planted a soft one fully on his
lips.  No response; it was like kissing a marshmallow.  I pecked again the
side of his mouth and moved in for another advance on his lips.  This time,
he responded, barely perceptibly, but I detected a bit of give.  His lips
were dry, soft, tentative.  A third time, I kissed his mouth, now slipping
the tip of my tongue gently between his lips, which parted ever so
slightly, allowing me in, further.  My tongue found his and I allowed them
to touch in a quick, informal introduction.  Once they'd made contact and
become somewhat acquainted, I tongued around inside his mouth while
smoothing the contours of his face with my hands.

"Ethan, you do seem to be enjoying this, but it doesn't look like you're
getting hard," I said glancing down at his crotch.  "Oh right, you're
wearing a cage, I forgot.  Let's have a look at it."

Ethan's face hardened; he didn't like me fucking with him.  I slid my hands
down, under his waistband, pausing to take in the smoothness of his creamy
hips.

"Raise yourself up off the chair a bit, Ethan, we need to get these off," I
said.

Ethan did as I instructed and I eased his pajama bottoms and boxers down so
that they fell to his ankles.  And there it was, the cage that held his
precious member.  It did indeed look heavy, and his cock filled the cage
portion entirely, like the enormous root of a pot-bound plant.  His balls
hung long and heavy.  They were reddish pink.  He looked as though he was
in a considerable degree of discomfort.

"Ethan, would you like me to unlock you?" I asked.

"Yes sir, I would."

"How badly do you want me to remove the cage, Ethan?" I teased.

"Badly sir .. very badly."  He sighed.

"Ethan, you're going to have to beg me to remove it."  I ran my fingers
across his bare chest, making sure that they skimmed over his nipples from
time to time.  I planted the palm of my other hand on his belly and he
sucked in a gaspy breath.

"Sir, please, could you take the cage off.  I really .. I can't stand it
anymore."

"Ethan, what are you willing to do if I remove the cage?" I asked.

"Sir, I'll do anything you like.  Please sir, could you take it off," he
pleaded.

I brought my hand further down, massaging his inner thigh.  He grunted.  I
cupped his balls in my palm and weighed them gently.  They were heavy,
soft, smooth with a random scattering of hairs.  As I turned them over in
my hand, they started to contract and his cock began to occupy even more
space within the cage.  I squeezed his balls firmly and he let out a gasp.
I brought my other hand down to the cage itself and ran my index finger
along it, to the very tip, touching the head of his swollen prick which was
puffing out through the gaps at the end of the cage, appealing for release.
I opened my hand and slowly closed it over the cage.  I gave it a firm but
gentle tug as I squeezed his balls again; he grunted.  I held the cage
steady again and whispered in his ear.  "Ethan, you're going to be a good
little boy if I remove the cage, aren't you."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes what?"

"I'll be a good boy sir," he said.

"Of course you will," I said, giving the cage another tug and kissing the
side of his mouth.

I pulled the key from my pocket and held it up for Ethan to see.

"Here it is, Ethan, the key to your freedom, at least for a little while
anyways.  So much fuss over such a small thing, don't you think?"

"Yes sir."

"Kiss the key, Ethan."

"Sir?"

"I said `kiss the key', Ethan."

He leaned forward and kissed it.

"Good boy, Ethan.  I like when you follow my orders."

I was about to insert the key into the lock when I stopped short.

"What's this?" I said, looking down at the lock and then up at him.  "There
are scrape marks on the lock, Ethan.  How did that happen?"

Silence.

"Ethan, how did the scrape marks get there?  Did you try to break off the
lock?"

Ethan's face was red.  His head was down; he wouldn't look at me.

"Ethan, I'm talking to you.  Did you try to break the lock off?"

"Sir, it's really uncomfortable, I didn't know what else to do.  I tried to
break it off but it wouldn't budge.  It's stronger than it looks."  He was
whimpering.

"That's because it's titanium, Ethan.  I had a feeling you might try
something stupid like this, so I ordered a special lock.  Not even bolt
cutters can break this baby."

"I'm sorry sir, I won't do it again."

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Ethe, no pun intended.  You've just earned yourself
another week in confinement."

He gasped and was about to protest but he saw the look on my face and
thought better of it.

I inserted the key into the lock and gave it a small twist; the shackle
popped open.  I removed the lock, but the cage didn't budge.  His swollen
cock held it in place.  He winced as I tugged on the cage, and I realized
that his pubic hairs had got caught up in the spirals, resembling coils of
barbed wire impeding access to a sacred temple.

"Ethan, your fucking bush has got all caught up in the cage.  No wonder
you're so uncomfortable."  He grunted.

I did my best to untangle the hairs without pulling on them more than was
warranted.  This isn't entirely true .. I actually gave them a couple of
unnecessary tugs, just to see him flinch and squirm.  That's the kind of
fucker that I am.

I managed to slide the cage off, then set my sights on the ring, which was
even more difficult to remove.  There were hairs caught on it as well,
intertwining themselves along the surface.  I took my time and gently
unsnarled the wiry mesh before proceeding further.  I made a mental note to
address the entanglement problem to make uncaging more seamless for future
sessions.

Once the hairs were out of the way, I performed a series of rough
manipulations to bend his cock down through the ring, and then ease his
balls out, one at a time.  Ethan continued to grimace as I worked the ring
free until, finally, it came off.  And there he was.  Free.  Unencumbered.
And aroused.  He let out a groan that trailed off into a deep sigh.

I paused to take in the magic of the moment as I gazed lovingly at his
magnificent manhood.  I'd seen his dick countless times at the pool.  We'd
been naked alongside each other in the change room so often.  But I'd never
seen him hard before.  He wasn't terribly long, about 5 inches, maybe 5
1/2, cut, but a thick, solid chunk of muscle.

I reached my hand out and stroked the underside of his cock in a
`happy-to-meet-you' gesture.  His dick sprang to life when I touched it,
pointing urgently at the ceiling.

"How does that feel Ethe?"

"Feels good," he croaked.

"Feels good `SIR'."

"Feels good sir," he said dutifully.

"Would you like me to jerk you off, Ethan?"

"Um .. yes, I guess so.  Sir."

I pulled a small bottle of lube from my bag and squirted a bit onto his
cock.  I slathered it on, took his dick in my hand and began to slide
around.  It felt rigid, yet spongy, warm and alive.  He moaned softly and
started trying to hump my hand like a randy puppy.  I pulled away and
massaged his upper inner thighs, his balls and lower belly.  Another moan,
this one expressing exasperation.  I once again took his dick in my hand
and tugged a bit, releasing on the down stroke and then tugging upward once
again.  Always upward before releasing and then starting from the bottom
once more.

I returned my attention to his balls, fondling and caressing them while I
used my other hand to massage his cock head.  He was moaning softly, so I
slowed things down a bit.  Then I stopped completely and played with his
nipples some more, as I nuzzled the side of his neck.  His cock was raging,
he didn't want me to stop.

"Please, sir, I need to .. "

"Shut the fuck up, Ethan.  I'm sick of your whining.'

"Yessir."  It wasn't even a whisper; it was more like he was mouthing the
words without actually vocalizing them.  He licked his lips and sighed.  A
spot of drool had begun to pool at the side of his mouth.

I cupped my hand over his cock head and tickled the underside with my
fingers.  He started to hump my hand again so I eased off a bit, allowing
my touch to become more delicate, barely discernible.  He sighed heavily.
I ran a finger slowly up and down the underside of his prick, from just
below the head, right down to his sack.  When I reached his balls, I took
them in my hand and massaged, tugged, squeezed.  He gasped.  I did it
again.

I closed my hand around his cock and squeezed hard.  He let out a cry.  I
eased off and then repeated.  Another cry, this one more of a whimper.  I
kept my hand around his cock, not moving, just maintaining a gentle
squeeze.  His dick was throbbing and he started trying to hump my hand yet
again.  I released and slid up and down briefly, then did another gentle
squeeze.

Several more rounds of this and he started to become unhinged.  He was
mewling incoherently, but I was able to discern the odd word like `please',
`sir', `need', `can't'.  I had him exactly where I wanted him .. powerless,
frustrated and experiencing a deep and driving need that he was unable to
satisfy.  I alone had the power to deliver the release he so badly longed
for.  I stopped and allowed my hands to play along the sides of his chest,
randomly grazing a nipple from time to time.  His cock began to twitch.

I leaned in closer, my lips seeking out the bruise on the side of his neck.
I kissed it gently and then started to suck on it, slowly and gingerly.  No
pressure, no teeth, no urgency .. just a steady gentle sucking to revive
and freshen the mark.

"No, please sir, don't do that again," he bleated.

"Quiet or I'll bite you," I whispered.

"Yessir," he replied.

After a minute or so, I brought my head around again, kissed him on his
lips.  As I did this, I draped my right arm around his shoulder and with my
left hand started to tug at his cock with slow, deliberate rhythm.  I
slipped my tongue into his mouth as I brought him closer to orgasm.  He was
kissing me back now, fully into the fervor of the moment.  I slowed down my
hand, I wanted to enjoy this sumptuous kiss for as long as possible, to
indelibly imprint this wondrous episode into my brain.

He pulled away and whispered, "I'm gonna cum, sir".

"You need to ask permission to cum, Ethan," I replied sternly.

"Sir .. unh, is it .. unh .. okay if I .. UNH .. cum?"  He was panting.

"It's okay, Ethan, go ahead," I said, as I switched hands and brought my
left hand just below his slit.  His body shuddered and he grunted through
gritted teeth as he spilled into my hand.  I captured his entire load, and
continued to pump and squeeze until he was emptied.

I was entranced by the experience of bringing Ethan to orgasm.  The
supremacy of being able to orchestrate the discharge of life-giving force
from his body.  The thrill of having the power to decide if, when and how
he would experience this moment of pure ecstasy.  And what absolute
authority, to hold his cum .. his precious generative fluid .. in the palm
of my hand, to do with it as I desired.  Several hundred million little
Ethans suspended in my grasp, awaiting my directive on how they would be
deployed.  I felt like god, ultimately governing this most vital and
fundamental action of a man, this man, this delightful young man who I'd
coveted for what seemed like an eternity.

Ethan's body went limp as he faded into a post-ejaculation stupor, but I
soon snapped him out of it.

"Open your mouth, Ethan," I said softly.

He looked up at me, disbelieving.  I brought my hand up to his mouth.  His
kept his lips closed, staring obstinately at my hand, and the puddle of cum
it held.  He shifted his gaze to me, and pleaded with his eyes.  I brought
my other hand to his mouth and grazed my fingers across his lips, urging
them open.

"I said `open your mouth', Ethan."

A sigh, long and resigned.  Slowly, reluctantly, he opened his mouth.  I
tilted my hand against his lower lip and his cum slid languidly into his
mouth.

"Swallow, Ethan."

Yet another hesitation, this one brief.  But he did as I instructed.  His
face was red with indignation.

"Now lick my hand, Ethe.  And my fingers too.  Lick up the rest of your
cum," I cooed.

He hesitated again.  I could see he was weighing his options carefully.  He
was struggling between utter humiliation and resignation.  In the end, he
did as he was told.  His obedient tongue felt so satisfying against the
palm of my hand as he took the remnants of his goo.

"Well done, Ethan, I'm proud of you.  You passed the first challenge."  I
patted his head lovingly.

"Now, get down on your knees like a good little boy," I instructed.