Organization: CGS
He came to me again, last night. He has come many times before, in his need and his desire...seeking the capacity within himself to feel, to respond, to be fully alive in all his essence. He knows that under my tools and my hands and my cock, he can find places within himself where he cannot go alone, places of pleasure and pain and something that transcends both. And we can both find the meaning of our union...
He knows the drill well. In my darkened foyer, he strips himself and secures the blindfold that awaits him on the side table. He then secures his hands behind his back with the waiting handcuffs, and calls gently, "Ready, Sir". After an interval to let him collect his thoughts for the coming events, I enter the foyer. Softly I run my hands over his shoulders and flanks, letting my nails bite ever so slightly into his skin. He is a very beautiful man, somewhat older but in excellent shape...on the average side, perhaps 5 feet nine inches, just about my general height and weight. His skin is silky but with the firmness of underlying muscle layers. I flick each of his nipples with my fingertip, eliciting from him an indrawn breath and an involuntary thrust of his chest, the better to receive the next flick. They rise up and display their height. I lift and massage his balls lightly, and stroke his already hardening cock. It is of average size and length, but embedded with a network of small veins that make it a darkish red and highly textured.
I am in my working uniform, leather chest harness accentuating my tight chest muscles and leather jockstrap. I love the feel of the harness as it pulls against my muscles when i bring a sharp whip stroke to bear. The leather of the jock is smooth and rubs seductively against my own increasing hardness.
Now it is time to move him to the dungeon. I secure his leather collar firmly around his neck. There are steel rings on either side of his neck. Quickly I slip a pair of butterfly clamps onto his enlarged tits..he groans slightly, and moves slowly from side to side feeling the clamps move with him. A light chain runs from each clamp up to his neck, through the rings. Opening the door to the corridor, I position myself behind him, with one length of chain in each hand as a rein. A quick shake of the chains is the "get-up" signal. He begins to move forward, still blinded, trusting me for the directions that will take him to his place of fulfillment. As he moves through the door, I follow, holding the reins. He steps slowly but confidently, head held high. As we approach the door to the right through which we must pass, i give a short firm tug on the right rein, He turns quickly, and continues, passing smoothly through the door and into the next room. Some times I march him around several times, to build his trust in me and my ability. This is the first stage of his putting himself in my hands, knowing that what I do is ultimately for his own enhancement. Tonight, we simply make the four turns necessary to bring him into the dungeon.
The dungeon is a room perhaps 15 feet on a side. It is painted black throughout. On one wall, a cupboard is opened to reveal an array of restraints, harnesses, and straps. An open shelf holds a collections of clamps and abrading devices ready at hand. Another wall contains a large number of coils of rope of varying thicknesses, textures, and lengths, hanging on hooks. The third wall holds the whips and flogging equipment, also on hooks. Against the back wall, there sits the St. Andrews cross with its bolts and restraining straps. It can be moved into various positions as needed. The sling hangs loose on the wall; it can easily be pulled into place when the time comes. The ankle stocks can also be moved around the room. Chains hang from the ceiling in strategic locations, ready to be attached as needed. A pair of padded sawhorses sits in the corner. At the center of the room stands a vertical pole, securely attached at top and bottom, with eyebolts embedded in it at several different heights. The room is softly illuminated with several candles in wall sconces. It is a place he knows well, and knows from experience.
We are now well into the room. I close the door, and fasten the bar across it to secure the soundproofing. No one will now disturb us until I am ready to come out. No one can hear what passes between us...the sharp cries, the soft moans, the crack of the whip, the ululation of fulfillment...
From behind, I remove the titclamps and quickly massage each nipple in turn to restore circulation. With it comes the sharp pain that had deadened with manipulation. He writhes suddenly, and falls back against my body. I pull him tightly to me as I twist his nipples sharply in each direction. I move back, pushing him upright again. I remove the handcuffs, and secure a broad black leather restraint around each wrist. I move him into position with his back against the upright pole. His legs are spread with sharp slaps to his thighs, and his ankles firmly clasped into the padded stocks that hold his feet perhaps two feet apart. It is a position of extreme sexual vulnerability for a man, and his stiff cock and slowly pulsing ball sack give evidence of his sense of this. I pull his hands behind the pole and secure them to a ringbolt at about the level of the small of his back. With half-inch nylon rope, I pull his shoulders back and tighten his upper body against the pole. A similar rope harness secures his pelvis and upper thighs to the pole, with the rope passing under his balls. The blindfold I leave in place. Although he can twist his body slightly, he cannot make any significant movements.
I leave him for a few moments to appreciate his position as I reach for my first tool. It is a simple flat wooden stick, in fact a paint stirrer, painted black in the mood of the room. With the end of the stick, I flick each tit upwards again, accentuating his vulnerability to me. As he tosses his head from side to side and begins to breathe with increasing rapidity, I slap his chest with the stirrer, not all that hard but hard enough that he feels a sharp slap. I work at random, so that he never knows where the next strike will fall. Sometimes I reach the nipple, sometimes not...I work the stick across his tight belly muscles, watching them wince back from each blow. The only sounds are the slap of the rod, his labored breathing, and my slow and deliberate breaths in return. Now I turn from his chest to his thighs, working with a stirrer in each hand, playing tunes on his thighs. Each blow that falls makes him more sensitive to the next that will fall there. Thus, I need not increase my frequency of blows or their hardness to elicit ever- increasing reactions....
Now I pause. Using a medical clamp, I secure his right tit firmly and begin to twist upward. It is not widely known that the underside of the male nipple is one of the most sensitive parts of the body. With my fingernail, I work the underside from side to side, back and forth. His head tosses wildly, and his chest muscles tighten. I release the nipple and turn to the left one, with similar reactions. I clamp each tit and secure a chain between the clamps, dangling loosely between them. A four-ounce lead weight is attached to each clamp, pulling them down sharply. As I hold the chain in my hand, I bend down and slowly take his engorged cock into my mouth, biting down just firmly enough that he can feel it. As I slowly suck him, feeling the delicious drops of pre-cum ooze onto my tongue, I pull the chain gently from side to side, alternately bringing sharper pressure onto ans softly, and his head tosses in time with the manipulation of the chain.
Now I let his cock go, and move to secure his balls with a leather harness that separates the balls and tightens the skin on them to a velvety finish. With a stiff paintbrush, I softly stroke the balls, sending him into a further ecstasy of writhing. Since I hold his cock firmly, he cannot evade the strokes. I alternate working the skin with the bristles with sharp slaps with the handle. not hard...we do not wish to damage him...but firmly enough to evoke a sharp cry.
Now I free his nipples from the clamps again, and as I detach each clamp I bite the nipple gently and suck hard to restore the blood flow. His chest harness precludes his evading my touch, toss as he will. Now I begin to work both tits with one of my more ingenious discoveries...a pair of simple files, each with four different surface textures ranging from very coarse to very fine. I press into the nipple with the medium coarse surface, and then twist it to the right slowly but firmly. He gasps, throws his head back as far as the harness will permit, and a long low howl of pleasure escapes his lips. Now I work both tits simultaneously with a file on each, settling into a rhythm of up/dow, back/forth, and twisting strokes. He does not know what is to happen next and his head tosses wildly as the guttural moan splits his lips. I press my body tightly against his as I work the files, feeling his hardness merge with mine...
Now I pull back. One can only work one part so long before it begins to become inert. I have no intention of allowing any part of him to fall so...loosening the ropes, I remove his ankles from the stocks and unfasten his hands. He falls to his knees in front of me. Greedily his mouth opens and begins to seek my cock. I slap his face with it lightly, once on each cheek, and he opens wide to take its length in. Hungrily he laps up and down my hardness, now freed from the confines of the jock...
Enough distractions...now to serious skin work. I secure his wrist restraints to overhead hanging chains, and similar leather restraints about his ankles to floor bolts. He has considerable ability to move in this position, but not to escape. I really get off on seeing him try to escape what is coming...I move behind him with the leather flogger, thirty long strips of soft leather each about a foot long. It is not a device to produce particular pain, but it is marvelous for sensitizing the skin for other tools. Softly I loop the whip over each of his shoulders, so that a soft slap falls on each nipple in turn. Pulling the leather back over his shoulder lets him feel the softness. I begin a slow rhythm of strokes across his shoulders, back, and butt. Starting softly, I gradually increase not only the speed but the heaviness of the strokes. He drops his head to his chest, arches his back, and moves his butt back to better take the raining blows. At the point when his breath has begun to take on a hoarse and rapid quality, I suddenly stop and wait. Little whimpering sounds come forth, and his body rocks back and forth seeking a resumption of the lash. I rub my hands across his back, feeling the warmth engendered by the rush of blood to abused skin...such a powerful feeling...
Now I don my leather glove. This is of soft black leather, smooth on one side, the other with a large number of little spikes sticking up, each about an eighth of an inch in height. With the smooth side, I run my hand across his chest, so that he can feel the smoothness and coolness of the leather. Reversing my hand I begin to stroke his chest with the spiked side, very softly but very firmly. Now he begins to flinch from the feel of the spikes...this will not do, and I move behind him, pulling his body against mine as I continue to move the spiked side against his chest and belly with firm round strokes. He tosses from side to side against me, but cannot get away from the glove as it moves how to his upper thighs, now to his tits, now to his abdomen and the top of his cock...my cock, rock-hard, is pressed between his thighs, nuzzling its top surface back and forth across his tightly puckered ass.
Enough of this, I decide. Now I reach for the small rawhide cat, about 20 thin thongs on a handle. This is designed to allow rapid swinging around so that a large number of strokes can be delivered in rapid succession. I work his thighs mostly, up and down, inside and out. His head tosses back, but he has no leverage to get out of the way. An occasional stroke to the nipples reminds him that they are still there...now I switch to the leather strap, about a two-foot length of doubled leather one and a half inches wide. I strike his calves sharply, again and again, bringing forth a sharp cry with each stroke. I double my pace, and begin to work the strap back up to his thighs and belly. Now I go down and once again take him into my mouth, sucking him firmly as I slap sharply again and again at each nipple with the strap...He is close to sensory overload at this point, so the time has come to let him down again...
This time I deny him my cock, much as he wants it. I push him down to the floor. His eager tongue finds my foot, and begins a ritual of licking and sucking, Each toe becomes a miniature cock, as he moves across my feet, using his mouth with all the talent it is capable of...
Now I attach the sling to the hanging chains, and move him into it. On his back, his feet in the air are attached by his restraints to the suspending chains. His wrist restraints I attach at about the level of his shoulders, since his hands have already been in the air for a considerable interval. His ass is spread, and the pucker of his hole calls to me...but first, I secure titclamps, each attached to a length of chain reaching up into the air. The chains pass over a pulley about two feet up, and a weight secures to the end of the chain, pulling his tits upward...not too hard, but enough to remind him that they are there, and that each part of his body is an object for my pleasure, as long as he is in my dungeon.
Now I turn to his ass. I begin with my fingers. He knows to clean out before he arrives, so I know I will find a smooth channel awaiting me. First one finger, then two...reaching up for his prostate and feeling its slick surface under my fingertips. Withdrawing, I reach for the small buttplug, lubing it well and softly inserting it with a twisting motion, working it in slowly but steadily. His head is thrown back, and soft little cries emerge. His ass twists as far as it is able, trying to suck the plug in...When it is in place, I leave it for a bit, playing with the chain and weights attached to his tits, bringing pressure first on one, then on the other...
Now I remove the plug, rather roughly and strongly...He gasps, and a shudder overtakes his body...his cock has softened during the ass work, but I quickly bring it back to full hardness with a few well-placed bites...I want him close to the edge as we move into the next phase. Stroking him up and down, I can see the tell-tale signs of arousal...the flush, the rapid breathing, the head tossing...but it is not to be yet. Now I work into him the medium dildo, the one with the handle. This is the best one for the long slow strokes, the ones that keep him on the edge. In, out, twist first one way, then the other. Long, hard strokes...short soft ones...short and long alternating...it seems like hours that i keep his ass working the rubber. He sucks it in as though he was trying to make it cum...and thought he could do it! I feel myself getting more and more ready to make my move...but first, he needs a taste of the really big one...I lube it up, and begin to insert it slowly. This is at the margin of what he can take, and he knows it...but this time, he is ready and waiting, and with only moderate resistance, he finds the two and a half inch model pinning him into the not move now, just lies there limply with an expression of utter abandon on his face. All his body language tells me that I have succeeded in moving him into an altered state of consciousness, ready to take me in full...
I slide the big one out, slowly so as not to distract him. The only sign that it is gone is a soft "whffff" as it passes out the lips. Now I have him where I want him. I position myself between his legs and enter him with a long smooth thrust, feeling myself buried to the hilt in his smooth hot tightness. One might think that the large dildo would have stretched him, but I have found that it is quite the contrary...the large object actually induces greater tightness when it is removed. I begin a rhythm of smooth strokes, much like what i did with the middle tool. Slowly he emerges from his altered space, and as he does so, he enters the rhythm himself...squeezing as I move in, relaxing on the out strokes...the sling itself moves back and forth...most of the time all I have to do is stand there and let his ass come to me...I can watch the emergent signs of arousal in him again...I stroke him gently but firmly, keeping him to my rhythm and pacing.
Now I feel myself getting there, that long slow tension building out of the bottom of my balls and beginning to rise up through my shaft. I increase the speed for both of us, and he matches it stroke for stroke, his hands in the restraints clenching and unclenching in turn. Now I feel it rising in me, the inescapable act that we have both built toward in our hours here together...three more strokes, and my back arches as I pour myself into him, feeling his ass absorb and clench to milk each drop from my hardness...at the same moment, he erupts himself, great white masses of liquid arcing through the air to coat his chest and tits and belly. Again and again we both spasm, sending further liquid into our shared space...
Gently, I lean over him and press myself into him as the sling rocks back and forth. Our juices mingle and flow forth across us both. A sharp intake of breath as I undo the titclamps is the only sound to break the stillness apart from the slow liquid press of our bodies sliding across one another...
Yet again, we have both achieved what we are here for...that time in another space where all things are possible, where we are in complete touch with our inner and outer selves, where we merge and join into each other...this time, I called the shots; another time, he will do so. The magic of the moment and the persistence of the feeling are what we will carry with us out the door and into the rest of our lives...