The following story is a work of complete fiction, dreamed up in my own twisted little mind. I even invented Lance and Sebastian, and any resemblance they might have to real people is purely coincidental. If you're uncomfortable with themes of consensual, loving bondage, domination/submission, or humiliation and training between two young men, please stop reading here. Everyone else, enjoy!
Comments are welcomed, adored, and lovingly spanked and petted at bondedboy13@yahoo.com. All but flames will be replied to.
Saving Sebastian, Part Three: Advice
I have to admit, I sat in my chair for a few very long minutes after I'd sent Sebastian away, my head in my hands, wondering what the hell I'd gotten myself into. I wasn't some experienced dom, used to training slaves, and Sebastian, from all the replies I'd gotten on the usenet, was definitely going to be challenging.
I raised my head and went back to the computer, looking at the responses my post had garnered. There were some suggestions there that I'd found ridiculous, some that I'd found scary, some that had aroused me deeply. Since there seemed to be a consensus that my own pleasure should be a primary goal in the relationship, I concentrated on that last category.
The discipline, for example. I'd almost come last night while punishing Seb; something inside me loved the sight of him writhing and sobbing while I beat his little ass red. I relished his struggles to get away, and I was completely gratified by the satisfaction and gratitude on his face after I'd finished with him. Some of the posters had suggested regular and strict discipline, and I thought that that would soon become a scheduled fixture in our lives. I'd replied that I was concerned that he would not misbehave often enough to make that possible, and the almost instant response was that slaves can never be perfect, and must always strive to please their masters more completely. There is always a reason for punishment. Even if not, a regular morning and evening spanking would give structure to our lives. The first thing he'd feel each day would be pain and pleasure at my hand, and the last thing before sleep. My erection at the thought was so intense I had to bend at the waist, trying to relieve the near-pain.
I'd given vague details about Seb's misbehavior the night before in my post, and had learned that though his behavior was appalling, much of the responsibility for it rested with me. I'd given him some limits, but not enough, and I'd set no defined punishment or expectations for him. Some of the more experienced masters scolded me for this, and I reddened with shame. How could I expect him to behave properly, when I'd been so lax? His behavior from now on was my responsibility, and it was my duty to control, restrict, discipline and reward him. I had to think about that a good long time. It was an incredible responsibility, really, but in the calm center of my mind I knew it was what I wanted. What I needed, as much as Seb needed loving control.
Humiliation seemed key. The men who'd responded to me seemed to have studied my description of Seb carefully, because they seemed to know exactly how he behaved. Sebastian was a strange combination of massive ego and deep insecurity, lashing out in anger and then begging submissively for forgiveness, cocky and assertive one moment and completely withdrawn the next. He had no self control whatsoever, and my new teachers seemed to think that a steady dose of humility would bring him to more of an even keel. If he stopped thinking of himself so much, one said, he'd be much happier. Redirect the entirety of his focus to you. Encourage that natural submissiveness, take away his choices, control his body and his wilfullness and you'll have done your job. It sounded like a massive task. Some methods they suggested were sensory deprivation, controlling and monitoring his excretions, menial tasks, and chastity.
Chastity fascinated me, and I'd already checked out a couple of the web links they'd provided. I'd asked Sebastian about his masturbation habits, but truthfully I'd already known. You can't share a tour bus with someone for a year without learning a lot about their personal habits. However, I'd wanted him to admit it to me, to admit that it was something he should not do, now that he was with me. I seriously doubted his ability to keep his hands off his cock, though, and I knew I'd need something soon. Most of the high-security devices I liked had a six-month ordering time, and since we were celebrities, I didn't think we could just stroll into a sex shop and buy one. Butt plugs and whips and gags we could laugh off as joke gifts for friends, but a $400 chastity belt? I wanted him belted and plugged as soon as possible, his sex completely under my control. I posted another question to the list, in regards to that question, and while I was waiting for an answer I decided to check on Seb.
I found him in the bedroom, tidying the bed. He'd stripped the crumpled and stained sheets already, and he was humming as he put fresh bedclothes on. He looked happy and content, and I imagined him naked, in a collar and cuffs and chastity belt, and even though I'd come down his throat less than an hour ago, I felt myself get hard.
"Sebastian." I called his name softly, and he spun to face me, a delighted smile on his face. So different from the sullen angry boy of a few short weeks ago, and I felt my heart swell with love for him. "Come here," I ordered, and he came willingly. I pulled his head down and gave him a deep kiss, tangling my tongue with his, and he purred delightedly into my mouth. When I pushed him away he was still smiling.
"Take your shorts off, kiddo. You're naked until we go to the store, today." He looked at me questioningly, but complied quickly enough, and stood before me bare.
Sebastian's tall, but slim, and I took a moment to admire him. He hadn't filled out yet, still slightly coltish with his long slender legs, tiny hips, and flat belly. His shoulders were wide, but overall he gave the impression of youth and innocence. His face only reinforced it. We'd teased him that his face sold at least half of our records, at least the ones that went to teenaged girls, and it was probably true. It was still a little round and babyish, with a straight, handsome little nose, and his huge eyes and wide, vulnerable mouth made him look sweet. The wicked smirks he gave onstage just contrasted with that and made him even sexier. He was watching me now, with those deep indigo eyes, and I stroked his hip. His cock bobbed in front of him, six inches hard, his balls full and dark and hanging low beneath. His sparse dark pubic curls glistened against his white skin.
"You know I love you, right?" His eyes lit up.
"Yeah. I mean, yes sir."
"Good. Now go bend across the bed." He sucked in a breath, eyes widening.
"But I'm so sore-"
"SEBASTIAN." He froze at my tone. "Do it NOW." The sooner he learned not to question me, the easier it would be.
"Yes sir." There was notable reluctance in his voice, and he dragged himself over to the bed, bending over it awkwardly. He wasn't quite tall enough to kneel, but he was too tall to hang off the edge of the bed. His little ass was bright red, still, angry looking and raw, and I inspected it carefully, without touching.
"Are you hard?" I knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from him.
"Yes sir," he muttered into the bedspread.
"I'm going to go get the hairbrush. Be soft when I get back, or it'll go worse for you." With that warning, I left for the bathroom. He was panting lightly when I returned, and I walked softly, not wanting him to know I was there. Roughly, I shoved a hand between his thighs, grabbing his cock and balls and pulling them back between his legs. He squealed and shivered, as I found what I'd known I would; the anticipation had hardened him even more, and he was leaking everywhere.
"This lack of self control is disgusting," I told him coldly. "A good boy wouldn't be hard when his master had told him not to be. We're going to get you some help, Sebastian, with this little problem of yours. Tell me, do you know why you're being punished right now?"
"Because you want to?" Sharp boy, to figure it out, and the fear and pain in his voice was mixed with anticipation.
"Partly, yes. Any time I want, any time I think you need it, I'll tan your hide. But you left your clothes all over the floor last night when you stripped, and you know better than that." His hands clenched in the bedclothes, his knuckles going white. I handled him roughly, squeezing his balls and pinching his cock, and then let go entirely. "Don't you?"
"Yes sir. I'm sorry, sir, it won't happen again." He was pleading now, and I smiled.
"I told you to clean yourself thoroughly this morning. Did you?"
"Yes sir," he said, eager to have done something right. I placed the hairbrush on the small of his back, and yanked his asscheeks apart. His scream was high and thin and breathless, and his back arched, and I slapped him right between the legs. He screamed again.
"Sit still and be quiet," I said firmly, and he went still, panting harder now. I inspected his crack and asshole, even going so far as to sniff them, as he sobbed in humiliation. Two fingers into him roughly, and he squeaked, more quietly this time. I pulled them out, and inspected the faint brown stain. "Not clean enough," I said grimly, and shoved the fingers into his face. He cringed away. "This is why we'll be doing regular enemas," I told him. I couldn't wait to get to the store.
When I released his cheeks, he sighed and slumped back onto the bed, only to stiffen again when I picked up the hairbrush. I let my tone soften a little, then. "I'll go easy today, since you're so red. Just six, baby, can you take it?" He nodded his head against the bed, and gripped tight again. "Okay, count them out."
I did go easy, not even using part of my strength to bring the brush down against his raw buttocks, light slaps only, but the first one still hit him like an electric shock.
SMACK! "ONE!"
SMACK! sob "Two"
SMACK! "Three oh please sir please stop it hurts so much-"
SMACK! "F-f-four Lance Sir STOP please please-"
SMACK! "fiiiive nooooo-"
SMACK! "Six oh my god oh shit oh god."
I sat beside him on the bed, smoothing his ass with my hand as he cried it out. I popped open the lotion I'd brought with me, and squirted some on the skin, rubbing it in with a light hand, massaging him until he slowed to hiccups. His little butt looked so good, glowing a fresh red again, hot against my hand. I wanted to get in him again, but I judged that it would be too much, right now. Instead, I fisted my hard on, only taking a few short strokes before I was coming all over his ass, spraying him with my spunk. He shivered as the heat hit his skin, and I rubbed that in, too.
"What do you say, Sebastian?" I wouldn't remind him after today.
"T-thank you, sir, for punishing me for my bad behavior." His voice was small and humble, and I couldn't have been more pleased.
"You're welcome. Now, get up." He stood, on shaky legs, and wiped his face. His cock was still hard, but at least he'd managed not to come. I ignored it. "Have you picked a safeword yet?"
He nodded and sniffled. "It's songbird, sir." I smiled and stood, pulling him close to me.
"I think that's beautiful. Now tell me honestly, do you hate me right now?"
Even as he leaned gratefully into my arms, he nodded. "Yes sir."
"That's okay. You're gonna hate me a lot more, I'm sure, as time goes on. Do you understand why I spanked you? That you deserved it?"
"Yes. I deserved it." I felt him release his anger with that submission, and I squeezed him tightly.
"And do you understand that if I chose, I could bend you back over that bed right now and take out my belt and give you twenty more stripes?"
I got a full-body shiver at that, and his head jerked in terror. But he answered immediately. "Yes sir."
"Good boy." I let my pleasure show in my voice. "You're going to hate me, Seb. I'm gonna be mean, and cruel, and cause you pain. But if you trust me, we'll make it through together." I pulled back and wiped tears off his face with my thumb. "Now, finish making the bed, and get dressed. We're going shopping for new toys." His eyes lit up. Oh, he was loving this, for all he hated it too.
"Can I help pick them out?"
I laughed. "Of course. Now go on. I'll come get you when I'm ready to go."
He smiled, and kissed me quickly, before heading to his room.
Part Four: Shopping
We still hadn't made my list, and it was troubling me even more than the fire in my bottom as we drove into the city. I looked sideways at Lance. He was smiling, singing along with the radio, and I couldn't help grinning at him. He grinned back, and reached out and held my hand. I felt that sense of safety, of belonging, even stronger than I had when he was spanking me.
"Lance?"
"Yeah, sweetie?"
"Can we make my list as soon as we get home? I want to know for sure how to be good, for you."
He brought my hand to his mouth, and kissed the palm. "Of course. The minute we get back and get our new stuff put away. Do you have any ideas for it? I know you've been thinking about it. I can see that busy little brain of yours, working away."
I nodded seriously. "Yeah. I mean, most of the big stuff is already on it. But I was thinking, could you always tie me up when I'm being really punished? It makes it better, somehow, I think."
He considered it. "I think that's fair."
"And when you're hurting me, I get hard. Can that be an exception to the rule?"
He smiled at me. "Yeah, Seb. As long as you don't come. But hopefully it won't be an issue, soon. I'm getting you a chastity belt, so you won't even be able to get hard unless I choose."
I shivered with delight. Honestly, the constant hardons weren't something I'd miss, and the idea of giving up control of my cock to Lance...ironically, I was hard as a rock, and I could feel a wet spot spreading on the front of my chinos. Fortunately, I'd worn a long shirt, but I should have known Lance wouldn't miss it.
"Sebastian, stop that right now." It was his commanding voice, and it only made me harder. I looked at him helplessly, and my hand started creeping between my thighs, right there in the car. It ached and ached and I hadn't come since that blowjob from the stripper. He frowned at me, and reached over and yanked my hand away. "No. You do that again and you'll have a lot more to worry about than a hairbrush." I ducked my head and held onto my seatbelt, instead.
"Okay. What else?" He went on like nothing had happened, but I knew better than to think he'd forgotten it.
"I'll never lie to you, about breaking the rules or anything else, and you won't lie to me, either." This was a big one.
"I think that's a great rule," he agreed immediately. "I'll always be truthful with you, Seb. This won't work if we lie." I nodded agreement, and shifted, to take the pressure off a particularly painful spot. He looked at me with a little grin.
"Sore?" He sounded smug.
"Oh yeah," I groaned, and we both laughed. "And the last one...Lance...I like it when you hurt me."
"I know, honey." His voice was so gentle. "I like it too."
"But, but. Not too much, right? Not more than you need to, to make me behave, or to make us happy?" I was uncertain about this one, given our relationship, but it worried me.
He pulled into a parking spot, and turned to face me, very serious. "If things keep going the way they are, I'm going to hurt you quite a lot." I bit my lip and nodded. "I'm going to do things to you that you won't like, and you'll beg me to stop. And I won't." I nodded again, and pressed my thighs together, desperate to ease the ache. "But I'll never harm you seriously, or do anything permanent to you. And your safeword is like magic. But remember, you use it only when things are truly, truly scary. Never because things are uncomfortable for you, or you're angry with me, or you think I'm being unfair." He touched my cheek. "I'm the one who decides fair, now. Always." I came in my pants with a gasp, shuddering, without even being touched, and immediately cringed into the seat, so ashamed I could taste it. There was silence in the car for a long moment.
"We really can't get that chastity belt on you soon enough," he commented mildly, finally, startling a gasp of laughter out of me.
"I'm so sorry, sir," I said, begging. "I didn't mean to, it just happened. Please forgive me."
"You'll be forgiven when you're punished, Seb," he said gently, and I trembled. "Now we're going to go into the store. You won't be very comfortable like that, will you?"
"No, sir." I was humiliated, and terrified that everyone would be able to see, to know what I'd done. I could see the headlines now: Rock Star Shoots Load In Pants, photos page six!
"Remember, in there we're just two guys, looking for gag gifts," he warned me. "Don't call me sir, behave just like you would normally. But remember, I'm watching you. Rudeness, bad behavior...I'll remember." It was a mild warning, but I took it to heart, and resolved to behave perfectly the rest of the day.
The store was amazing. It was a sex shop, with lots of regular stuff in the front, dildoes and vibrators, lube and condoms and feather boas, crotchless panties and so on. I wandered through the aisles, looking at flavored lube and penis-shaped party favors, my cap tugged low over my face. There was an unpleasant squishing in my underwear, and every step I took reminded me of my failure.
Lance was leaning over the counter when I rejoined him, grinning at the man who worked there. He was huge and muscular, pierced all over his face, his hair dyed black and his arms solidly inked with tattoos Lance, of course, had charmed him just about senseless.
"It's a bachelor party," he said with a wink as I joined them. "We're doing a whole bondage theme...appropriate, huh?" They both laughed. "Anyway, we want the good stuff. Cost is no object." The guy's eyes lit up, and I wondered cynically if he worked on commission.
"Absolutely. We've got the best selection in the city, I'm happy to say. Just come on back, I'll show you the room." Lance followed the guy, and I trailed behind. We walked through a black padded door marked "Please Ask For Assistance," and as it closed behind me, I froze.
The room was well-lit but windowless, and set up like a dungeon. One wall was whips, long and short, some with lots of thin strips of leather, some long and coiled. Canes leaned against the wall, every one wicked looking and promising endless pain. I could feel a shiver start up my spine. The wall alongside it was leather harnesses, full-body and partial, cuffs and collars and leashes and straps, all dark leather with gleams of silver that seemed menacing in the bright light. Most of the things on that wall, I didn't even have a name for. I turned slowly. Gags, now, and hoods. Frighteningly blank, or with one hole cut where the mouth would be. In the middle of it all, a frame, some stocks and something that looked like a rowing bench. Tables were scattered around, with...things on them.
Lance was at my side without me even noticing, as absorbed as I'd been in the room. "Easy, honey," he whispered. "Take a deep breath. You're okay, Seb." I gasped for air, and realized I'd been holding my breath.
"Bachelor party, huh?" The store manager was watching us with knowing dark eyes, and Lance spun on him, eyes narrow. He held up his hands placatingly. "Hey, now. Relax. We're a community, we protect our own. As far as I'm concerned, you two were never here." He looked at me, smiling a little. "Is he new?"
Lance nodded jerkily. "We both are."
"Picking out your first kit?" This time we both nodded. "That's special. I'll give you some time. I'll lock the door behind me, just press the call button if you need help with something or you're finished. Please, don't hesitate." He smiled again, and the door closed quietly behind him.
It was silent in the room, except for my rough breathing. Lance was watching me, and I finally calmed a little, and he took my hand. "Come on, Seb. Let's go pick out your new things."
We started on the whip wall, the one that made my stomach curl with tension and excitement. Lance fingered them, running them through his fingers, testing the weight. First a long thong, which he hung back up right away. Then something with nine strips of leather, which he seemed to like a lot. He swung it once, twice, and then turned to me. "What do you think, baby?" I couldn't take my eyes off it. I hated it already, and couldn't wait to feel it. He smirked evilly, and stepped close to me, flicking it lightly against my crotch, playing it between my legs.
"Oh my god." It was wrenched out of me, and I stood shaking.
"I think this one, then," he said thoughtfully, and placed it on the floor. Next he picked a plain leather strap, ominously thick and heavy looking, and slapped it against his palm. "Let's test it out." There was a dummy standing in the corner, and he aimed carefully, and whaled the strap against it, right where the hip would be. The CRACK was incredibly loud, and I jerked like I'd been the one hit. "I like it," he nodded, and put it in my trembling hand. "You carry your things, Seb," he said with gentle firmness, and I relaxed a little. Lance was in control here, too. I held the strap and picked up the whip, and followed him to the next wall.
I stood still as a stone while he tried three different collars on me. One was wide and kept me from lowering my chin, and was circled with D-rings. He really liked that one, and had me hold it. The next was thinner, but no less wicked looking, studded with spikes. I didn't like that one, and he put it back almost immediately. "I think you should have at least two. Why don't you pick one out." He was smiling at me, and I stepped eagerly to the wall. There was one I'd really liked, it was almost solid silver and hinged, and locked with a pin and padlock in the back. There were rings on the front, back and sides, solid and inescapable looking. I let Lance put me on it, and he gave me an approving nod. "Gorgeous. You're beautiful." I felt myself swell with pride.
Lance grabbed the matching ankle and wrist cuffs to the collars, and a more simple set "for everyday," he explained, and I almost bit my tongue, and then three leashes and six straps with snaps at both ends, and things that looked like cuffs but were smaller. I didn't ask what they were for, figuring I'd find out soon enough. A couple of gags, one very nasty looking with what looked like a small penis attached to the straps, and we moved on to the tables.
There were dildos, of course, and I ran my finger wonderingly over one that must have been twelve inches long. Lance, of course, grabbed it immediately and added it to our pile, laughing when I glared at him. "You'll learn to love it," he warned, and I twitched. He picked up a few more of varying sizes, and my asshole was spasming crazily, aching to be filled.
He was contemplating a table of littler things, that I didn't recognize. "Butt plugs," he explained when I asked. "You're gonna be plugged up tight, sweetie, for the forseeable future."
"But..." I looked at them. Some looked way to big to live in my ass, some were shaped like little cones, others had what looked like rings at the end. "I can't...what about going to the bathroom?"
"Only when I say." His voice was implacably calm, and I stared at him in disbelief.
"But, but..."
"Exactly," he said dryly, and I had to giggle, even through my fear. "That butt's mine, and I say what goes in and what comes out." He stroked my ass gently, igniting the flames that I'd almost forgotten. "And what beats it," he added with quiet menace, and I instantly dropped my head submissively.
"Yes sir."
"Good boy." He picked up a few plugs, different sizes and shapes, including one with ridges, a curved one and one with the rings on the bottom, and added them to the growing pile in my arms. I was starting to wish we'd gotten a shopping basket, and the strange domesticity of the idea made me chuckle. Lance grinned at me when I explained to him.
"All right. One more thing," he said, and I quailed. "We're getting the frame, too, honey," he told me, and I eyed it with terror and longing. "But I want to ask that guy something specific. You stand here. Don't move, don't speak. Whatever we do to you, you don't speak a word." I nodded, almost giddy.
He pressed the button, and the door opened soon after, to admit the manager, who smiled at me with my load of gear. Lance thanked him, again, for letting us browse, and complimented his selection.
"We use it too," the man said simply, and introduced himself as Ben. Lance shook his hand.
"There's one more thing. If you could?" Lance led him over to me, and they took the stuff out of my arms, setting it carefully on a bench. Lance, as coolly as if he was inspecting a new guitar, lifted the hem of my shirt up, revealing my pants with the wide damp stain in the front. I instinctively moved to cover it, and got my hand slapped HARD. "Sebastian, stand," he snapped at me, and I could feel my face getting hot.
"As you can see," he turned to the man, gesturing at my crotch, "he's got a little problem with self control. I've been looking all over for a chastity device, but I need something high security and safe for long term use. And I need it right away."
"Oh, wise choice," Ben approved, walked around me in a circle. "May I?"
"Of course," Lance said graciously, and there were strange hands at my waist, unfastening my pants and shoving them down over my hips. I was too shocked to do more than gasp. "Stand," Lance warned lowly, and I stood, shivering, my mind a mass of confusion.
"Pretty," Ben commented. "And messy, at the moment. I think I might have something that could help you. It's used, but everything we sell is completely guaranteed, and as clean as the day it was made." I couldn't believe it. This guy was offering to sell us someone else's belt? For me?
Lance's eyes lit up. "That would be fantastic. Can we take a look?"
"Of course." He brought a tape measure out of his belt, and after another nod from Lance, measured me. Poking me like I was an animal, he measured my waist and hips, between my legs, my ballsac and the space between my cock and waist. I wasn't a musician to this man, wasn't a superstar or even just a normal person. I was a slave, no more, no less. I was so embarrassed I was squirming, so of course, I was hard as a rock. "He's gonna need to go down, for me to take that measurement," Ben said dryly, and Lance groaned.
"The only way I know how to do that is make him come." I burned with shame. "But we can try. Seb. Control yourself, right now." He stepped in front of me, so I could see into his eyes, and took off my hat, stroking my hair. "I want you to get soft right now. Do it to please me, and do it because if you don't the beating you get when we get home won't be the kind you ever forget." He meant it. "I know it's difficult. Do it now."
I desperately thought of unsexy things. Standing in a dungeon with my pants around my ankles, two men staring at me, about to be put in a chastity device, I fought my body, harder than I ever had before. I focused on James, on how I'd have to apologize to him. How I'd insulted him, and it wasn't okay, because he couldn't punish me to make it better. How awful he must have felt. I was so wrapped up in it, I almost didn't hear Lance murmur "Oh, good boy. Wonderful boy," or feel the tape measuring my penis.
"It'll need a couple of adjustments, but I can do that right here," Ben said, and I came back to my surroundings, breathing deep in relief. Lance was beaming at me, and I stood straighter, proud. After the door closed behind him, he leaned in and kissed me, long and slow and loving, and I melted against his body.
When he stepped back he patted my stomach lightly. "Get out of your pants and shorts, Seb." I undid my shoes and stepped out of them, now barefoot and half naked. "Grab your shorts and clean up your mess." It was funny, the way he always personalized it, making me acknowledge ownership; it was my mess, they were my buttplugs, it was my whip. On the one hand, it let me know in no uncertain terms that these things were part of me as much as him, my choice as well as his. On the other, it was kind of scary. In a good way.
I scrubbed between my legs with my shorts, being sure to get behind my balls and in my crack, where my cum had slipped down. When I was done, I stood waiting, and he felt me, clinically. I flushed red.
"Good job. Now stand and wait." I rested a little, as Lance browsed around the room, occasionally adding something to our purchase pile. From where I was standing, I couldn't see what those things were, as much as I craned my neck. He knew it too, the fucker, and laughed at my attempts.
When Ben came back in he was carrying something in his hand. It looked sort of like a metal jockstrap, with a metal plate in front, and chains and a thin leather strap in the back. I couldn't take my eyes off it, and Ben shook it cheerfully, making it rattle.
"It's perfect!" Lance crowed, walking over to inspect it, and Ben showed him the locks and fastenings.
"Eager to get this on him, are you?"
"You don't even know," Lance sighed, and I blushed as they laughed.
When they came to me, Lance stripped me quickly, pushing my shirt off my shoulders and yanking my thighs apart. I staggered a little, and felt my nipples and cock start to harden and perk, and Ben snickered again. "Not for long, kiddo," he told me kindly, and my knees went weak. He must have seen the real terror I was feeling as that thing got closer and closer to my crotch, because he paused for a moment, and put a hand on my shoulder.
"Do you trust your master, boy?" His touch was gentle, and his eyes so kind. I nodded without hesitation.
"Yes sir."
"And he'll always do what's best for you, right?"
"Yes sir." I looked at him with sincere gratitude for calming me. "Thank you, sir." I saw Lance nod approvingly, before he crouched down by my knee and watched Ben work me into the belt.
"First, the waistband." It was snug, just below my lowest ribs, and didn't slide either up or down. "Now you see, here's the trick." I was staring ahead, pretending that this wasn't happening to me, but my half-hard cock wilted at the first touch of cold metal. "That's a boy. That usually works like a charm." My penis was encased in a metal tube, which tightened slowly with clamps. And I could feel something thin and hard pressing into the crown, not painfully, but present. The whole thing was dragged back between my legs, pressing my balls flat, and I gasped and staggered.
"Stand," I was warned, I don't even know by who at that point. My head was swimming.
"Now the plate. Are you going to want the ass strap? It's very effective for anal chastity, especially over a plug."
"Oh, absolutely." Lance sounded so pleased that I tried to be pleased too.
"Great. First the crotch plate, it snaps to the belt here and here. Chains between his legs. As you can see, he can't get to his cock, balls or perineum at all. He can piss, there's a hole for it, but he'll need to squat to do it. And he will be absolutely unable to become erect." I felt the cold chains drawn up under my ass, then heard them click into their rings on the back of the belt. "Finally, the strap." He jerked it tight between my cheeks, and I moaned, swaying, at the feeling.
"You'll want to shave and clean him before he goes in there long term, but for the ride home this should be just fine. I've found that there's nothing like the itching of newly-shaven balls under a plate to drive a slave completely nuts." He dropped a handful of small padlocks into Lance's outstretched hands, along with a ring of keys. "They all open for the same key, but I've given you a lot of copies. Never be without one," he warned, and Lance nodded seriously. "Congratulations. Your slave is chaste."
"He looks amazing." Lance walked around me, admiring. "How does it feel, Sebastian?"
His question brought my brain back online with a rush, and my hands went to my crotch. Nothing but smooth metal. I scratched at it with my fingertips, then looked at Lance helplessly, starting to feel a little wild. I wanted, I NEEDED to get hard, there was blood flowing to my cock but it was trapped. I was trapped. "I don't...it's...I want it off. Take it off, Lance, please."
"No, honey." His voice was kind. "It stays on."
My hands got more frantic, dipping between my legs as I twisted, needing to touch myself. "Lance!" I was shocked by the loudness of my own voice, and I yanked at the bottom of the plate, touching the tube that held my cock. "I need it off! Take it OFF right NOW!" I couldn't get my fingers beneath the strap, so I pulled at the chains, pinching my flesh as I dropped to a squat, knees wide, dragging my metal-clad crotch against the cement floor like a dog in heat. Surely I could scrape this horrible thing off my body...I was moaning, and didn't really register the door closing behind Ben as he gave us privacy again.
Hard fingers on my chin yanked me to my feet again, and Lance was right there. "Quiet. Stop this now. It'll be okay, I promise." He pulled me into his arms, stroking my back, and I could feel my shivers running through me to him.
"NO!" I forgot all my rules, and struggled, pulling futilely at the belt. The sharp crack of a hand across my cheek shocked me into silent stillness.
"Do you want a reminder? This is not acceptable, Sebastian." He was looking right in my eyes, and he was angry.
"Yes, yes." I nodded frantically. If I was beaten now, surely I'd get hard, belt or no belt.
"Then you won't get one." His casual cruelty drove the breath out of my body, and I stood mute as he checked the gear one more time. "We'll talk about this when we get home."
Ben stuck his head back in the door, and seeing me calmer, entered.
"I'd like to apologize for Sebastian's behavior," Lance said formally. "The only excuse is that he's only been in training two days. The responsibility, of course, is mine."
Ben waved it away as I started to cry silently. "I've seen much worse," he said cheerfully. "Now, if that's all, I can ring you up back here. We'll have to deliver the frame tomorrow, but I assumed you didn't want to carry that big pile of stuff through the store."
Lance agreed, and a few minutes later I was dressed again, and carrying our heavy bags to the car, following him.
The ride home was silent, though I was twisting and grunting, still on the edge of panic at the enforced emptiness of my cock. When we reached home Lance opened the door quietly, and I stood in the hallway.
"Take the things up to your room, Seb," he said gently. "Then strip and get yourself across the bed."
"NOOO!" I wailed, and he slapped me HARD to shut me up.
"Now. Instantly. No more from you, today." I went.
He left me there, naked and squirming and bent over the bed, for over half an hour. When he finally entered, he didn't speak to me, just moved quietly around the room. I could hear bags rustling and little thumps, but I didn't dare look around. The anticipation had me strung so tight my whole body ached, and when he finally touched me I jumped a mile. He pressed down gently in the small of my back, and unsnapped the ass strap from my belt. Fingers at my opening, and then something cool and slick pressed against me. I pushed back into it, desperate to feel good, and then something was sliding into me, slow and easy and then bigger and bigger and I screamed, trying to climb the bed away from it, his hand holding me down. I sobbed into the bed as I could feel my rectum stretching impossibly wide, burning like I was being branded there, and then it seemed to pop in all the way and I wasn't stretched quite so far. It was heavy and cold and pressing directly on my prostate, sending waves of pleasure through my body, and I started to moan.
"That's your plug, baby," he told me, over the sounds I was making. "Get used to it." Then hands were pulling me back onto my feet, and I swayed, almost overcome. Lance didn't touch or hold me, though, and I was going to find that that would be standard while he was prepping me for punishment. That delicious fear started curling through my belly and groin, but had no outlet, now.
Leather cuffs around my wrists and ankles fastened with little locks, and I nearly swooned at the incredible feeling. Lance chuckled a little, and then walked me back to the bed, the strap dangling down between my legs. I was so full from the plug that I was almost bowlegged, and he laughed again, before pushing me down flat on the bed.
Smaller cuffs fastened to the corners of the metal frame, and Lance snapped straps from them to my cuffs. I was spreadeagled, unable to do more than flex and squirm a little, and it was a strangely safe feeling. I wasn't in control any more. I couldn't do a thing about it, and somehow, that let me relax.
"How's your butt, Seb?" There was the sound of Lance stripping, and the swish of something heavy through the air. I shivered.
"Sore, sir," I gritted out, and he laughed.
"Not as sore as it's going to be in a few minutes." Fucking sadist. "It's a good thing we're on break, because you're not going to be able to sit for a week. Not after today's little display." I cringed.
"Now. Tell me why you're being punished. All the reasons." He was using what I was starting to think of as his 'master' voice, lower and harsher and slow, never angry, always calm. It made my belly cramp with arousal, and I had to scramble to get my thoughts together.
"I came in the car. I, I was disobedient in the store. I got hard. I misbehaved in the hall." I licked my lips and thought frantically, but that's all I could come up with.
"And do you know which of those is the worst?"
"The thing in the store?" I had no idea.
"No, Seb. The worst is when you said "no" to me. I never, ever want to hear that word come out of your mouth again." His hand stroked my hair, and my eyes closed involuntarily. "You do not get to decide. Ever. And you do not get to say no. You must always trust me, and you must always obey. You're getting thirty strokes now, fifteen for telling me no, fifteen for the others. What's your safeword, baby?"
"Songbird," I whispered, giddy with terror and need.
"Good. Now not another word out of you, unless it's that one. I love you, Sebastian."
"I love you too." Just a breath of sound.
There was an experimental swish and crack on the mattress that made me jump as far as I could, and then the first hit fell. I screamed. I screamed until my voice was gone, then I screamed some more, fingers curling and tugging at the cuffs, body thrashing, eyes blind as they stared at the sheets. And under it all I could hear Lance, counting evenly. He was actually being kind, spreading the strokes from shoulders to knees, avoiding my ass until "fifteen," when the straps on the whip landed hard across my cheeks. All the breath was forced out of me, and I couldn't make a sound.
He took a little break then, toying with my plug and teasing my swollen prostate, not saying a word as my sobbing breaths gradually slowed. I came back to myself, feeling the spittle on my chin, the painful ooze of precum from my trapped cock, the blazing fire on my back and ass and thighs. It felt...not good. But right. I was in my proper place, Heaven and Hell, with more to come.
"I'm starting again, Sebastian," he told me quietly, and the first stroke landed, much harder than before, on my ass. I shrieked and spasmed and pissed myself, losing all control, feeling it wash through my chastity belt and down onto the bed, trapped against my belly. Looking back, that was the moment I started to truly break. Oh, there would be moments of rebellion and disobedience and error, many of them, but never again like today, or the night before. Lance owned this body, he made it do things I would never allow, shameful dirty painful wonderful things, and, lying in a hot puddle, I gave up to him. I let myself slip into a warm red haze of intense pain and humiliation and submission, and I didn't even want to get hard. Wanted the pain to be pure, because I had been bad, and this is what I deserved. At his hands.
At the end of the second set of fifteen I was lying utterly still, a continuous thin whine coming from my mouth, my eyes closed and my body limp. He checked me carefully, and made me say his name...I opened my eyes and answered "Sir," and he smiled at me, and left me alone for a little while to absorb what had happened to me. When he finally unfastened my cuffs I couldn't move, and he massaged my arms and legs gently, before encouraging me to stand. Every motion pulled at the red-hot skin on my back and thighs, and I staggered into him. He held me gently.
"Oh, Sebastian. That was dirty." He was looking at the yellow stain on the bed, and I shivered in pleasure at the disapproval and arousal in his voice. With his support and moving very slowly, I stripped the bed to the mattress.
"Now into the shower with us," he told me, and brought me with him. When his hands went to the belt and started unsnapping the clips, I spread my legs eagerly, and he chuckled at me. "Don't get too excited. It's going back on as soon as you're clean." I nodded instantly. Whatever he thought was best.
"What a mess! This is why you'll squat to pee from now on." He put the belt in the sink as my cock bobbed up to instant hardness, and then had me bend at the waist and pulled my plug out without ceremony. I yelped, and got swatted for it, and the plug joined the belt. "You'll be cleaning those after our shower," he warned me. Yuk. "It's your responsibility to keep your things clean, Sebastian. Now into the tub with you."
As soon as the plug had come out, I'd felt the pressure in my bowels. I hadn't defecated yet today, and I shifted from foot to foot, wondering how to ask.
"What is it, honey? You can ask."
"I..." I looked down. "I need to take a shit."
"No swearing," he reminded me, standing before me calm and relaxed. "Ask again, please."
"But." I didn't know what he wanted. "I need to take a dump. Please, Sir."
"Sebastian, you're a good little boy. Good boys ask properly. Try again."
I tried to remember how my little brothers had put it during potty training. "I need to go poop," I whispered, almost unable to tolerate the shame. He was making me use baby talk, for this of all things.
"That's the proper way. Good boy." I straightened a little under his praise. "And no, you may not. We'll do an enema tonight, and until then you can hold it." I stared at him. Oh, not this...
"Now into the shower." He put me in firmly, and turned on the water, handing me a cloth. "Wash yourself. And then me."
The spray was intensely painful on my new stripes, but my cock was drooling precum in a thick strand to the floor of the tub. I washed my body, cleaning it of sweat but afraid to touch myself, though I scrubbed my balls and ass harshly. "Your cock too," he reminded me, and I bit my lip.
"If I do, I'll come," I confessed, and he chuckled, and reached out and grabbed my rod.
"You may come, Sebastian," he told me kindly, the best four words in the english language when they come from your master, and I exploded that second, shooting jets of cum on the shower curtain, on him, on the tub. It was like the contents of my balls were being yanked out my cock by his permission, and I came and came, pulsing hard. When I had finished my legs went to jelly, and he pushed me to my knees under the water.
I loved bathing him, his skin was like wet velvet under my hands, so smooth and soft. He fucked my mouth there, letting me swallow his juice, and it was sweet and loving and everything it should have been. Finally, he shaved me, pressing me against the wall as he scraped my crotch and pits naked, then around my asshole, and the tops of my thighs. It was the strangest feeling, to be bare like that, and he liked it, running his hands over my smooth skin and praising me.
When we were through, he dried me with a big towel like I was a baby, and sent me off to wash my plug and belt. They were both filthy, and I didn't want to touch them at all, but he told me cheerfully that this would be one of the least embarrassing things I'd be doing, and I shuddered and obeyed him.
"Back in your belt, Seb." I was too exhausted to do more than nod and stand spraddle-legged as he slipped the awful thing back on me, and when I caught a glimpse of his watch it shocked me that it was only midafternoon. I was as beat as I'd ever been after a full day on tour. The plug went in much easier this time, though my prostate was in agony. And he used the padlocks, and I jerked a little as they snapped closed.
"How long will it stay on, sir?" I needed to know, and he stroked my cheek gently.
"As long as I choose, baby. Probably about three days, since we're just getting started." I felt my eyes fill. "Oh, Sebastian. It'll be okay, I swear. Now control yourself. You're all in, and I'm going to put you to bed. You need a nap, sweetie." I nodded blindly, and let him lead me back to the bed, still walking awkwardly with all the gear between my legs. He stopped me and looked at the bed consideringly, and then at me, and his pretty brown eyes had that wicked twinkle I'd grown to dread and anticipate. "I think tonight we'll make this a proper play room for us, and I'll get a more appropriate bed for you in my own room. For now, sleep here. I'm going to go downstairs and make your list, I didn't forget my promise." He put me on the bed, ignoring the damp spot, and covered me with a sheet, before kissing my mouth lightly.
Despite everything, the pain of my tortured skin and my full ass and intestines, I was asleep before he closed the door.
[end part four]
Author's note: I'd love to hear from anyone with experience in the BDSM scene; I confess I don't have much myself and might be making errors. Also, this story is growing and changing as I get to know Lance and Seb better, and I'd be thrilled to hear about anything readers would like to see in the story--though I'm not making any promises! ;-)