IV.
He's waiting for me when I get to the room. "Strip slowly, faggot. Give me a good show. Slow and sensuous and act like you're gonna enjoy being my slut. Offer me every fucking inch of that body they're letting me play with."
Oh my! What is it about him that makes me want for him to own me? Even though I know what he's going to do to me? What is it about that voice? I unbutton my shirt slowly revealing the bare flesh that is beneath it as it opens. "Yes, faggot. That's right. Show me your bare flesh. Offer it to me so I can do whatever I want to it. Open it more. Pull it out of your pants and slowly reveal each nipple to me. You're gonna taste some exquisite pain in those pretty little nubs, boy. I've been told they're pretty virgin, so I'm gonna rape them good, faggot, get the tears started. Show me the other one. Both of them are mine tonight, faggot. Yes, just waiting for me. Begging for my hurt. Oh yes, faggot, those nipples are going to be my favorites. Now pull the shirt off and throw it on the floor, faggot. Then you fall to the floor as well and strip your feet bare."
I do it quickly, hoping to please him but not really knowing what will please him other than my cries. "Kneel up!" He reaches with both hands, one to each nipple and gently caresses them and damn, it feels good.
"You've got responsive nipples, faggot. Almost like a girl's. Bet I can make you scream like a girl, faggot. Just you wait and see." He just keeps caressing them and I find myself wishing the pain would begin. What the fuck is happening to me to be thinking that way? Damn!
He pulls up on them a bit and I start to stand. `NO, NO, NO! he shouts. I will pull you up. Do not take over. I'll use your nipples to get you back up on your feet. Slowly, faggot. Slowly."
It's very hard to try to stand this way and I almost fall back a couple times but he grabs me tighter and it gets me upright again and now the pain I was eager to get is starting. I'm glad when he lets go after I'm standing.
"Open the pants, faggot. Show me the bare flesh down where real men have hair. Show me how smoothly they've managed to shave you." And I reveal all that to him. He runs his rough thumb over my flesh. It's a strange sensation. "Don't forget what I told you, faggot. Every single inch of this flesh is mine now." He pulls the pants open more. "Turn around, faggot." then "slowly lower those pants over the top of your ass, slowly reveal the top of your crack. Just the very top, yes, that's a good faggot. Now take them down further. All that sweet flesh is gonna be on fire by the time I'm done with you, faggot. Your Master tells me you're long overdue to be lashed like a true slave. All that sweet ass, boy, won't feel so sweet by the time I let you crawl out of here tonight."
This guy is really hot and his voice makes me tremble inside. I have to be honest with myself: he can do anything he wants to me and I'm gonna do my best to make him pleased with me. I don't care how much it hurts. (He says, naïve as hell.)
Finally I'm naked and he's gone over all of me with his eyes and his rough fingers. I'm still standing but it's not all that easy at this point because I'm about to sink to the ground in a pool of submission. What happens next blows my mind:
He slaps my face several times making sure it hurts. Then he takes my face in both his hands. "Give me your eyes, faggot. Let me see them. None of this lowering your eyes shit with me. I need to see what's going on inside you and your eyes will tell me everything I need to know about you. Now before we get started I have one more thing to tell you and you'd damn well better understand what I'm saying. I know you never met me before, kid, but I know you'll never forget me after I'm done with you today. That doesn't matter. What DOES matter is that your owner gave you to me so I could work you over. Your owner knows exactly what I'm going to do to you He WANTS this. He wants this for you. He wants you to get worked over by a total stranger so you know there's nothing personal about it at all. Not between me and you, anyway. Of course, between you and HIM it is very personal because HE owns you and everything you suffer today you are suffering FOR HIM and AS A WAY TO LET HIM KNOW HOW MUCH OF A SLAVE YOU ARE, how much you want to be HIS slave. The truth is, faggot, that HE wants HIS slave to learn how to take pain."
The only thing on my mind right now is that this guy kept referring to HIM as my owner. Is that true? I don't have a chance to get too hung up on this because as soon as he finishes lecturing me he grabs me by the balls and we're off and running. He holds them fast in one hand and starts slapping them with the other hand while looking into my eyes. And it really starts to hurt. A lot. And I guess my eyes were telling him that because all of a sudden he lets go of my balls and grabs me by both nipples again and this time he pulls me down to the ground and I cry out from how much he's hurting them with just his fingers. What will it be like when I have to wear clamps? Damn!
Next thing I know he has a strap in his hand and he's lashing my back and my ass and I start crawling around trying to get away and the lashes keep coming. Once I end up on my back and that's a very big mistake because that fucking strap lands in some very awkward places, especially after my balls are already aching. And that's what goes on for a long time, or at least what seems like a very long time to me, and that strap just keeps landing on me until finally I realize that by moving around I'm making it worse so I just get up on all fours so he's got all the SAFE targets he wants.
He was serious. He really does intend to mark up my entire body. Finally I'm flat out on my belly sobbing and I'm one huge sore welt from my neck all the way down over my ass and even below that and I can't figure out where it hurts the most. What does it matter when I'm practically choking on my own snot.
All of a sudden a bright light goes on and, OMG, HE walks in and I guess HE's just looking me over as HE walks around me. "Roll over!" I do. With one foot HE spreads my legs so HE can see how marked up I am. "Hand me the strap, please," HE says to this guy whose name I still haven't learned. Next thing I know HE's got one foot on my chest and HE starts whipping my thighs and even hits my dick a couple times and now I'm screaming out loud.
It stops. "It's had enough now. Get the slave used to wearing iron. " HE says to HIS friend. HE never says a word to me. HE just leaves, and the lights go down low again. "Up on your knees, faggot!" It hurts so much to move but I don't dare hesitate. Next thing I know my wrists and my neck are being locked into iron, just like HE ordered. Then my hands are chained together behind my back. He locks manacles on my ankles as well with a chain connecting them. The next thing is the worst of all: he orders me to crawl around the entire room getting used to what it's like to be chained up this way. I can tell you what it's like: every single move I make tells me just how trapped and helpless I am and the fact that I'm sore all over as well makes it even more intense.
But do you know what? All of a sudden it just comes over me, this feeling of how secure I am, how safe, how good it feels to know I am owned by someone who even considers me to be his possession. Wow. HIS. No one else can get to me. Even this Dom who just beat the hell out of me can't hit me any more because HE said I'd had enough.
I get so tired. So very very tired. The things I'm locked into are pressing me down, down, down.
The guy comes over to me. He grabs my collar and gets down close to my eyes and repeats what he told me before. ". Your MASTER WANTS this. He wants this for you. You got worked over because He wanted it to happen to you, to get worked over by a total stranger so you know there's nothing personal about it at all. Not between me and you, anyway. Of course, between you and HIM it is very personal because HE owns you and everything you suffered today you took FOR HIM and AS A WAY TO LET HIM KNOW HOW MUCH OF A SLAVE YOU ARE, how much you want to be HIS slave. That's why HE wants HIS slave to learn how to take pain, slave."
I am so tired, so sore, so wiped out and everything is so heavy. Mercifully, I pass out.
. . . . .
I wake up in the dark on a cold stone floor in some basement and everything hurts so much that I can't figure out a way to hold myself. My iron collar is chained to the ground. It's quite long so I can crawl around a bit, but I cannot stand up which, I realize, would be the least painful position for me to take. That's probably why HE's chained me so I can't get up on my feet. In fact, I can't kneel up either. I'm huddled down. At lease they took the manacles off so I have more freedom of movement.
HE comes in. I know it's HIM because he's holding a candle. HE drips some wax on me and I start screaming again because some of it lands on my balls.
At last HE speaks. "Now you will understand what it means to be MY slave. I will have things like this done to you whenever you need a reminder. Have no fear, I will often beat you MYSELF, of course, because that is the only way you slaves can properly trained to have the correct attitude. It cannot be neglected or slaves like you lose their fervor to serve."
He releases the chain from my collar. "Kneel up and open your mouth."
HE takes out HIS cock and pisses into my mouth, then orders me to swallow. This continues until HE is completely drained.
"This is what you are, slave. This is your dream come true. "
Dream? Or nightmare!!!!!!! Suddenly, I realize that I don't want any of this. Why the fuck did I I willingly consented to all this? I thought it was what I wanted. Now I'm trapped and HE says HE owns me now.
"No, no, no,! I cry. "I don't want any of this! I made a terrible mistake. Please let me go, Master, please?"
Everything around me dissolves and I find myself on our bed at home. All the pain is gone. I'm lying here in my boyfriend Jeffrey's arms, snug and safe and feeling very much loved. Boyfriend? Since when do I have a boyfriend? Jeffrey? I swear I don't know him. But then he speaks to me.
"You doing okay now, baby?" he asks me. "that must have been some awful dream you were having. I couldn't get you to wake up. You were crying out `please let me go, please let me go.'"
He kisses me on the forehead. I open my eyes and almost faint from shock. HE's Jeffrey. Jeffrey is HIM. No wonder it was so easy for me to think I was madly in love with HIM. This is reality now. HE is Jeffrey, my real boyfriend, the one I love with all my heart and soul. Sure, Jeffrey spanks me sometimes, but that's because we both get into it, and sure, he bosses me around a lot and I get turned on when he behaves that way, but he'd never let anyone ever lay a hand on me. At least I don't think he would . . . I know he won't. He's told me he would be very upset if he ever saw another man touch me. And piss? No. NEVER! Not Jeffrey. He'd say that was disgusting. And not healthy so not safe. Jeffrey was all about safe and the rest of it—you now, sane and consensual.
I do love him so although I'm still quite a bit mystified about how he ever managed to slip into my dreams the way he did and even blind my mind so I don't realize he eve existed as a real-life boyfriend.
But still the dreams come . . . especially when Jeffrey's away on business.