- Whipped
So where were we? Oh yeah: We're at the "slave market." My friend Rocket is inspecting the bound slave for sale. He's even more of a Dom than I. He's working the boy's mind to the point where it's actually beginning to tremble, worrying about what Rocket's planning to do to it. Sure, Rocket and I talked about this. I trust him, so I won't interfere. He can do anything he wants to do to the boy. After all, it's being claimed, and purchased as Rocket's newest slave. 10 knows it's getting whipped tonight after all. But under what circumstances? And by whom? And with what?
Rocket decides it's time to make his grandest move of all. "Pardon me, men, may I have your attention? I'd like to ask you something." The place quiets down completely. All eyes are on him. Rocket goes and stands with his back to the slave who is groveling on the ground by now in reaction to how Rocket had been fucking its mind.
"My name is Rocket. I own several slaves and I've decided to purchase this one known only as 10. I have an important custom back at my place. Whenever I bring in a new slave, the first thing that happens is that the slave gets whipped, sometimes by me, sometimes by another. So that's what's going to happen to this slave known as 10---although I've already decided that once it's my slave it's name will be pup. So anyway, what I propose with your approval, is that rather than having the slave whipped back at my place, I'd like to have it done here where you all can enjoy watching it hearing its cries. Now if only one person objects, it won't happen. So, gentlemen, what say you?"
I'm pretty sure that 10 will try to catch my eye to find out if I'm going to put a stop to this. I have no intention of doing so. The room is silent except for the cries of the slave that's getting worked over by a rather cruel Dom (who shall remain nameless). The silence is painful. I decide to bring it to an end. "It seems, Rocket, that we're all looking forward to seeing a slave get formally whipped right here in this room. Please proceed however you wish."
Word was given to the staff about this. Right away a curtain is pulled aside to reveal an actual whipping post that looks much like the ones that were seen in frontier days. Meanwhile, 10's wrists were enclosed in manacles, the chain to its collar was released and two big men pulled and dragged the slave across the room to the post and quickly strung it up. 10 is already crying, so deeply into the scenario he's buried—although this isn't merely fantasy here, He is REALLY going to be whipped with everyone looking on. Immediately the sadist leaves the poor boy he was tormenting and draws as close to the post for a good view. Creep!
10 is crying hard now, and I'm pleased to hear it, not only because it's genuine—the boy is frightened, not knowing how much this is going to hurt—but also because I know how much inner satisfaction the kid's going to get from this long after it actually happens. Now remember that I told you I was leaving everything up to Rocket at this point.
Several different types of whips are available. Rocket looks them over and then announces to the room that "I'll be using the single-tail. It causes the maximum pain with the minimum amount of marking. After all, I'll be putting the slave to work as soon as I get it home, so I don't want to have to waste time waiting for it to recover. There is something intensely pleasurable watching a slave who's just been whipped being forced to work while the pain of the whipping is so acute. Even the most masochistic slave of all would find that a terrible ordeal."
I'm actually pleased about this because, although I've seen it in films, I've never been this close to the real thing and it's something I'm thinking I'd like to learn to handle sometime in the future—the single-tail whip. Rocket clears the area he needs. "I will whip the slave myself. Back and ass." Again he hasn't told anyone how many lashes the slave's going to get. 10's having a meltdown but I'm not worried. It's happened before. The kid will be fine but will cherish the memory of what's happening now. In the midst of its crying it begins babbling my name and I'm glad I have such a common name that could easily not be recognized as him calling for me: Dave, Dave, Dave. Sounds a bit like sobbing.
I've heard that each bite of a single-tail feels like a whole heap of bee-stings. Judging from how 10 stops its dramatic crying and actually cries OUT in pain, I know that's true. I take pleasure in seeing how 10 is writhing from the almost silent lashes. It's clear that Rocket really knows what he's doing. I lose count at 14 but I can see that that whip has touched a wide span of places on both back and ass. Finally Rocket is finished. I guess he stops because that last lash has resulted in an outright scream from the victim.
Rocket gets praised by many of the Doms who watched the scene. 10 is ignored, left trembling there and sobbing. I walk over to 10 and run my fingers through its very wet hair. "I don't have to order you to be a good boy tonight for this Master. I'm sure his whip already convinced you that you'll be on your very best behavior. I'll be over to pick you up sometime tomorrow." With that, he knows that I know Rocket, and that this whole thing was set up. That will make it easier for him to relax into the experience the way he will enjoy the most.
Shit! Just get it: he was strung up and publicly whipped while men stood by watching and hearing him cry out in pain! Many subs would give anything for such an experience but will never be able to find anyone to make it happen for them. No, indeed. Murphy is a lucky boi. Sure, I know he's 32yo, but he'll always be a boi. Never a man. Never free. Never rid of me, actually. But this is exactly what warms his heart and keeps him so devoted to me.
Finally Rocket has pup (its new name now that it's been whipped by the Master who just bought it) taken down from the whipping post and supported by two men so it could get used to walking on its own after its ordeal. That takes a while.
I still have the boy's boots that I put aside after I decided it would go barefoot like the other slaves being "sold" that day. I was holding them when Rocket came by to tell me he was bringing the slave back to his place. "Do you want to take its boots with you?" I asked him.
"No need. The slave will always be naked, just like my other ones at home," he tells me. Then he also extends an invitation. "Why don't you come by tomorrow to pick up the slave at noon and we can have lunch together and I'll let you to meet my other slaves and see the way I'm training them.?" Perfect!
"Will do," I tell him. "Oh, and by the way, the boy is an excellent cook."
"Hmmm. I'll keep that in mind. But by tomorrow it might not be in any condition to be able to cook a meal," he says with a wink as he walks away. AS for me, I take the boots with me as I go to find a sub to suck me off. I'm horny as hell after all that. Once I've been drained, I also took advantage of one sub serving as a urinal, then I make my way home. No need to stick around any longer. I must say, I'm looking forward to seeing Rocket and his boys tomorrow, and to start doing whatever needs to be done to help pup recover from everything. Hmmm. Pup. Cute. I think I'll let it stick.
I get a text at 10 the next morning. It's from Rocket. Just a picture of the pup sucking the toes of one of his boys and it appears that there three other feet there waiting to be serviced as well.. "Not much sleep, but we're keeping it down low," was the message accompanying it. Gives me a little jolt of joy, seeing the boy being put to use after the long hard night it had. I'm also taking a lesson in how Rocket hasn't been babying the slave just because it got a whipping. Keeping it aware that it's been enslaved by a stranger who just bought it, being put to work despite getting little sleep. Authentic experience.
I wonder to myself just how surrendered pup is mentally right now. It's been whipped while a group of men watched, then brought home by a Master it doesn't know who, within his fantasy world, has actually BOUGHT HIM as if we were a piece of merchandise taken right off the shelf, so to speak. Now it's being made to practice its total subjugation in a humiliating way. I can't wait to hear about the rest of it all. I really hope pup has been able to surrender completely and without reservation. That would be a supreme experience, something that I don't remember ever happening before.
When I get there for lunch the next day, one of Rocket's boys answers the door, completely unashamed to be standing there naked in the open doorway. Hot boy. Younger than I thought he'd be but definitely over 21. I'd really like to find out more of his history, this young, dark-haired slaveboy wearing what looks like a pewter collar, hairless except for its curly black hair, showing several stripes that look like they were made with some kind of cane with no apparent pattern. One on its shoulder, one on the side of its left leg, two on the upper back and three across just its right ass cheek.
"Welcome, Sir," the boy says. "Master calls me Tomtom. He wants you to know that you have his permission to use me however you want while you're here." Then he drops to the ground and lowers his head to my boots. "Bring me to your Master, boy," I say, lightly nudging him with my foot to get back up off the ground.
The boy leads me inside and then drops to his knees again. Rocket is pleased to see me, and immediately tells me that he was impressed with my slave's conditioning and attitude. "Attitude is everything in a slave."
Of course, he knows I agree with his philosophy completely. Pup has always been punished the most severely when I felt it didn't have an attitude befitting a broken slave. Nothing much like that has occurred recently, of course. After all, we're not kids anymore according to our ages--but obviously I am a man and the pub will always be a boi.
The last time I whipped him myself I used the strap that he hates the most. I had heard him having an argument with someone he knew and I didn't like his tone of voice. He was acting as if he and his companion were equals. That's what I mean when I say that attitude is everything. I would insist that he should always think of himself as much younger than the Master he's serving—even when, as in this situation, the superior happens to be only 19 years old. Rocker's second boy is 19, in fact, an adorable blond-haired blue eyed smooth skinned angel. He was sitting there cuddled up against Rocket while pub was kissing and sucking his feet.
Rocket is toying with the boy's cute dick, caressing it, slapping it once in a while, holding it in his hand. "Go greet my guest," Rocket orders the boy. Immediately he slides to the ground and crawls over to me and begins licking my boots. I can see that signs of a fairly recent spanking has faded a bit. Meanwhile, and I guess this had already been rehearsed, now that pup doesn't have a foot to suck, it quickly turns around, crawls over to us and begins licking the boy's ass! I know that this is probably its least favorite way of serving a man. Wow! Being made to lick the asshole of a 19 year old boy while I watch. Could anything be more humiliating?
I wonder what age it's thinking of itself. Probably somewhere between 13 and 15 at the moment, desperately seeking his older brother's approval. "The boy's name is Victor," says Rocket "and had that name when I acquired it, and then begged me to him keep it. How could I refuse such a sweet and humble request from such a lovely child? So it is still called victor, although I've tried to frighten it into realizing that if I wanted to, I would change its name to Susie." He laughs and I joined in.
I was surprised to see that neither of Rocket's boys was caged, although I must say that I enjoyed seeing them both sporting nicely-sized dicks jutting out from their hairless groins. I remember him telling me that he always insists a sub be caged before he administers any form of pain, especially whipping.
"I started out as a slave when I was in high school," he admitted to me. "One of the teachers was my Master but I never mention much about it because of how much trouble he could get in if word got out. Anyway, he was a good teacher at everything. He helped me learn from experience the difference between having my ass whipped when my dick was free and having it done—exact same strap—when I was caged. Convinced me. I know that whipping I gave your boy last night at the Shaft was much more acute because it was tightly caged." I was happy that Rocket made note of the size of the cage I'd locked the boy into.
Rocket noticed how I was looking his boys over. "I had them uncaged and cleaned when I was still at the Shaft and had decided to purchase pup for myself. I figured it would be good for your boy's mental state to have to blow two well-broken slaveboys, thereby making it the lowest sub in the room."
"I have to hand it to you, buddy, you're sure insightful about these things. I love talking to you," I say out of a newly-found respect for my friend. "My pleasure, Dave. We all have a responsibility to share what we've learned with each other. That's the way we all grow and the scene gets more and more . . . what's the word I'm looking for . . . more and more classy? Sophisticated? Intricate?
"Hotter and hotter," is what I volunteer. We both chuckle. "So anyway," he tells me, "your little bitch has been kept busy. I let it have three hours' sleep but since then its mouth has always on some part of our bodies. Had to beat it a couple times, but I know you wouldn't mind. It's an effective punishment to take a wooden spoon to the places my single-tail marked last night. Intensifies the pain. Only had to do it four times before this slave finally realized I meant business. It was sucking Victor's toes for thirty minutes non-stop before I sent the boy to lick his brother's ass."
"Are they really brothers?"
"Nah. Just slave brothers. But they're good together. There's chemistry between them and I take full advantage of it. I can keep them away from each other as punishment, or let them have each other when they deserve to be rewarded. I'm very big on rewards, Dave. I know a lot of Doms don't give it enough attention. That's how I broke in the both of them as urinals. One night I promised them the whole night alone together if they drank each other's piss as they 69'd."
"Shit. That could have been messy."
"They had to lick up what they spilled. No problem. And besides, I had cameras on in the bedroom they used. Got a couple of interesting clips from it all. Especially the baby—I mean Victor. Sometimes I call him the baby."
"Going to college?"
"Not yet. Haven't made a decision about that. Tomtom has a pretty good job now. IT work. It paid off letting him finish school. All his salary is income for me. I give him an allowance for lunches."
I noticed that even though Rocket referred to pup as "it," he used the ordinary pronouns for his boys. I asked why. "I used to before I got Victor, but now with the two of them, I really like to emphasize the fact that they're bois. Both my bois. Both very good-looking well-kept bois, Happy most of the time. I treat them like gold when I'm not treating them like shit. There's gotta be a balance, you see."
Interesting. Something I'll be thinking about here on in. Even though I'm over 30 I still feel like I still have a lot more to learn. I really like what Rocket said, about everyone sharing what they learn with others. Makes sense. It doesn't mean that we're all going to end up being alike. We all have our own styles and interests. I'm really big on keeping the kid caged, but haven't really made it drink, if you know what I mean. I mean, I'm not averse to it. I used some slave at the Shaft last night when I needed to take a piss myself. I don't ever want to do that with pup aka 10 aka Murph. So far that is. Who knows what our future will be?
Weird, isn't it, the things we put the boys through and the things we avoid. I mean, I turned 10 over to a stranger for a public whipping last night and let the man who beat it took it home to use without my being there. I don't cling. Not my style. Like I keep saying, I don't own Murph (aka "10") 24/7 and have never tried to. Not yet. Maybe when we're older. Who knows?
THAT'S ALL FOR NOW
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