Born

By Douglas Marx

Published on Aug 13, 2023

Gay

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Warning: This erotic fiction contains sexual experiences between fictional males. If this is not your thing, leave now. Furthermore, any similarity to any person, place or thing living or dead is merely coincidental.

There is no safe sex in this story because it is fiction. Remember: In real life, play as safe as possible preferably no exchange of bodily fluids.

My stories are copyrighted and are not available for use under any condition. Please forward all comments to douglas.marx.4@gmail.com.

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Story codes: M, MM, SM, bd


Please check out my other Nifty.org stories, which can be found under the prolific author section at http://www.nifty.org/nifty/frauthors.html and then scroll down to Douglas Marx

Growing Up Naked http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/growing-up-naked/ Downward Spiral of Jim http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/downward-spiral-of-jim Naked Whore http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/naked-whore Put Out to Pasture http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/put-out-to-pasture Santa's Slave Training http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/santas-slave-training Special Product Design http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/special-product-design The Trunk http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-trunk


Born – Chapter Five

I spent the morning experimenting with food. The program was quite specific learning classic French cooking. Mr. Brown had a beautiful kitchen that was well-stocked for all the utensils and food items to practice the art. There were even large chef aprons for me to use when cooking with hot food since I was naked.

In the middle of my lesson, the speakers in the kitchen announced that it was time to prep lunch and present it on the table at noon. Knowing Mr. Brown did not want to see me again until lunch, I waited until precisely 12 o'clock to walk into the dining room to serve. There Mr. Brown sat, dressed sharply for a relaxed Saturday. He did not acknowledge my presence instead observing how I behaved. The place settings were done a half hour earlier when I knew he wouldn't be in the room. The water glasses were filled fifteen minutes til so that they would be still chilled, yet he would not see me.

Mr. Brown looked at the food. Turned his head to me who was standing next to him and said, "Very good, boy. Sit. Eat."

"Yes, Sir."

We sat for a few minutes in silence until Mr. Brown asked, "Did you enjoy your morning in the kitchen?"

"Yes, Sir. Very much so, Sir." I answered.

"You can see you have much work to do."

"Yes, Sir."

"You must be a well-disciplined boy. You will spend most of your time by yourself. I hope that you can cope with that."

"Yes, Sir. I believe I can, Sir."

Mr. Brown stopped talking. Mr. Brown had been a man of few words when he was my boss at the bank. I should not expect more from him now that I was his manservant. I didn't look him straight in the eyes preferring to eat my meal, yet I could feel the sexual tension between us building. That sense had been there from the moment we met three months ago, building daily over that time. Now that I was his new slave, his naked manservant sitting having lunch with him, the desires were palpably strong. I urgently wanted to get down on my knees and suck his cock; however, that was not my place. Mr. Brown was to lead in all affairs regardless of whether he was instructing me on what I was to do in the house, the dungeon or the bedroom. Nevertheless, I sat at the table with a desperate hard on. He knew I wanted him. He knew I needed him. He wasn't going to be so easy.

"Boy, clear the table." Mr. Brown ordered.

Oh God. I was hard. He was going to see. He was going to know. I got up anyway. Once the table was clear, I went back and stood at attention with my cock at attention as well waiting for further instructions.

"Boy, come with me." I followed Mr. Brown into a new room, the dungeon room. I had never seen such a place. I had masturbated regularly on the Internet to pictures of environments such as this. Here in front of me was the real thing. "Stand in the center of the room, boy. Spread your legs apart eighteen inches. Raise your arms to a cross position."

Mr. Brown walked over to a cabinet and got out a jar. He put on some disposable gloves. He walked back toward me with a look I had not seen before. He took the cream spreading it all over my body covering my under arms, legs, pubic hair, my ass and chest. Mr. Brown then stepped back, put the jar away, took off the gloves and turned to watch. In about a minute, my skin was on fire. I started to scream wanting to move.

"Stand still, boy. Stay in that position. Five minutes boy. Stand still."

My screams became louder and louder. Whatever this cream was hurt like hell. I tried to stand still. It was almost impossible but I followed the order. My balls hurt the worst because that skin is so tender and thin. Mr. Brown stared at me. He had no emotion on his face as my screams went unanswered. I didn't dare look, yet I knew my skin was turning red.

"Five minutes are up. Go take a shower. Make sure you rinse without getting the residue on your face, eyes or hair. When you are done, come back to the position."

Mr. Brown stood not watching me go to the shower at the one corner of the room. He continued to look at the spot where I was to return. I rinsed. I could see in a mirror that my skin was inflamed. As the water pour over me, I noticed my hair was leaving my body. The cream was a hair removing cream. Was this permanent? I didn't know, but the intensity of the experience suggested yes. Here was my first body modification. Was I to never have hair again?

Upon drying off, I returned to my spot, legs eighteen inches spread, arms straight out.

"Good boy." Mr. Brown put some leather wrist straps on me attaching them to chains hanging from the ceiling. He then strapped my ankles securing them to the floor. Once in place, he gently touched my body moving his hands lightly and slowly all over my legs, chest and arms. He moved himself close to me almost smelling my essence. He was still dressed in the dapper Saturday outfit he had on from lunch. My fantasy would be that my Master would be in full leathers for a scene. The juxtaposition was odd, but I was completely inexperience with sex in any way and my cock showed no signs of softening even as the residue of pain from the cream continued to tingle my skin.

Mr. Brown walked over to a wall of whips. He selected a cat-o-nine-tails. Gently he moved the soft leather tassels of the instrument over my flesh. My cock was leaking pre-cum dripping all over the floor. I was scared shitless, yet I knew I wanted this. I knew I wanted him to whip me. I actually started to moan in anticipation.

Mr. Brown said, "Oh, boy likes this feeling. Boy wants to feel some pain. You enjoy pain, don't you, boy? I have never seen a boy stand still during the cream process. You did a commendable job. I've got myself a pain freak. Good. I like inducing physical pain. I enjoy hearing the screams. I want to hear the begging and pleading. I get off on it. And, remember, boy. You are here only to take care of me. So you better provide me with the entertainment I want."

"Now I want you to count out after each release. Say it loud and after the number say, `thank you Sir.' Got it?"

"Yes Sir." I answered. Mr. Brown was right. I did want him to do this. I wanted him to hurt me. I wanted to feel the pain on my skin. I did not know this about me. I was incredibly frightened, but my cock never wavered from beet-red hard so, once again, Mr. Brown was right about me.

Slash. The whip landed on my back. "One! Thank you Sir." Mr. Brown was strong. He was not holding back. In my naiveté I thought he would start slow. "Two! Thank you Sir" That one landing on the small of my back. "Three! Thank you Sir." Across my buttocks. "Four! Thank you Sir." Mr. Brown had switched to my chest and nipples. "Five! Thank you Sir." Whack over my abs just missing my hard cock.

I attempted to keep up with the count; however, my mind went into an altered state. This was a state that all men are familiar with; the state prior to orgasm. Mr. Brown was taking me to my first orgasm with another man. I have no idea how many times the cat-o-nine-tails lay across my skin. I screamed in ecstasy as my cock erupted spurting my sub juice all over the dungeon floor. My body collapsed as I hung from the wrist straps attached to the ceiling. When I opened my eyes in my post-orgasm state, Mr. Brown was gone. I was left alone still attached to chains; still required to stand. I looked down at my redden skin, at my softened cock dripping the last amounts of jizz. I felt proud. I had just had my first sexual encounter with another man. Yes, I know it's not what most people would want as a first encounter, but it was mine. And, it was with Mr. Brown. I smiled even with the realization that I could be standing here for some time before he returned.


Your thoughts and feelings on this story are extremely appreciated.

Please send any comments to: douglas.marx.4@gmail.com

Next: Chapter 6


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