Sex and Pain

By First Name

Published on Feb 27, 2008

Gay

This is my first story here, so guys, please, please, please send your feedback, comments and suggestions to: niftyauthor@gmail.com

A man walked into the room. I was naked, on my knees with my head bowed, my hands behind my neck, elbows spread wide, my body leaning back to display my torso in the most exposed way. He walked up to me and picked up the whip from the stool, next to which I was kneeling. With my eyes lowered, I could only see him from the chest down. He was at least six feet tall and powerfully built; a business suit perfectly complementing his athletic frame. His hands were large and strong, with long, thick fingers. Their skin white, but with a healthy tan. He rubbed the leather wrapped wooden handle of the whip in both hands, than gripped it with his right, swung it back, and brought it down across my chest. It stung both of my pecks, wrapping around under my left armpit. My body jerked, as the pain shot through me; I let out a low moan, but managed to control the pain.

My dick quickly grew hard, sticking straight up, my balls freely hanging below.

"Yeah", he exhaled, and then growled, "Look at me". I looked up at him without lifting my head. He was in his late thirties. His dark hair was wavy and cut medium length. His features were large and well formed; his full-lipped mouth and dark green eyes, in a lustful cruel smirk. I swooned, and my cock grew even harder. He grabbed my chin with his left hand and jerked my head up, then roughly pushed two fingers into my mouth. I sucked on them, without breaking eye contact.

He pulled his fingers out of my mouth and wiped them on my face, then hung the whip around my neck, proceeding to slowly push both of his hands from my straining shoulders down my hard chest and my taut abs, finally pressing both of his thumbs on my nipples, and then pinching them hard. I winced as sweet pain shot from my nips through my whole body. A low moan escaped my lips.

Our eyes remained locked, as he continued to slowly work my nipples, just barely decreasing the pressure, and then clamping down again. My head was swimming in a sexual high, as my wide open eyes welled up with tears, and my cock slit oozed a dollop of pre-come.

"How old are you, slave?", he asked matter-of-factly, without releasing my poor nips.

"Twenty, Sir", I strained to answer clearly.

I have been a slave since I entered into six year's voluntarily indentured servitude two years ago. There were no jobs, and no other options. My indenture was immediately bought by a mens sex service, catering to clients with sadistic inclinations. This was to be expected, as vanilla sex can be bought cheaply from free sex workers. But this is not the whole truth. The other part of it is that I could hardly wait to become legal age to do this. I really wanted to be a slave. I needed it. Ever since before puberty I had fantasies of submitting to powerful guys who wanted to be in charge, who would dominate and denigrate me, who would assert their masculine superiority over me, by using me for sex in the most depraved ways and enjoy making my pain their sport.

In high school I was one of the jocks on the soccer team. But as soon as I got home, I would jerk off to fantasies of my teammates pushing me downs into the grass and the mud, kicking me around, flogging my body with their belts, face-fucking me, raping my ass, coming on my face, pissing in my mouth, -- you get the idea. So when 18 came, a few of the guys went off to college, most joined the army, and I, well here I am ...

The guy in the suit twisted my nipples hard. I moaned aloud, and my eyes teared even more, but I also pushed my chest out more. His cruel smile grew wider.

"That's right slave, you love me torturing your tits as much as I do. Your hot body is made for this shit! I am going to enjoy this!"

He suddenly let go of my tits and fist-punched me in the chest hard. My body flew back, and I landed on the concrete floor with my legs bent double under my thighs, my butt-cheeks touching the heels of my feet, my knees spread lewdly, with my shaved asshole staring up at him, my hard dick leaking pre-come on my straining abs, my torso arched back and my shoulders and arms resting on the floor. I kept my head raised forward in order to maintain eye contact with my new master.

He walked up to stand between my spread knees, painfully shoving the toe of his wing-tipped shoe in my asshole. "Hand me the whip, bitch", he spoke the words through his teeth, with abject contempt in his voice, and cruel lust in his eyes. I bent my arm back behind my hand, felt the floor for where the whip must have fallen from my neck, and grabbed it once my fingers came in contact with the leather. I extended my the my hand forward and upward as much as I could, why still remaining prostrate on the floor before the man. He ripped the whip out of my hand, and spat in my face. I instinctively opened my mouth to try to catch it, but his spit landed on my neck. He extended the whip over my body, and dangled the tip over my face.

"Kiss it, lick it, make love to is, slave! Show how grateful you are for the attention it and I are going to give you. When we are done with you, your hot slave fagot body is going to be covered with angry red welts. You are going to swim in a sea of hurt. Are you happy to hurt for my pleasure, slave?"

"Yes, master!", I moaned, as I strained to raise my head even more, and, eventually, was able to bite on the leather tip, and slobber it with my spit.

He reaped it out of my mouth, and yelled in rage, " I didn't tell you to byte it, you fucking shit, you dumb animal! You are going to regret this!" He brought the struck my torso full force with the whip, and again, and again, and again. I was screaming my pain out loud. As if by magic, angry red welts appeared across my chest, where only smooth skin was a moment ago. My face felt hot, and tears were streaming down the sides of my face, pooling in my ears, making them feel cool with moisture. My torso was burning; my dick now lay flaccid on my flat stomach. I pleadingly looked into his face. He looked flushed and sweaty and he was breathing hard. He had a raging hard on that was trying to tear through his pants, a fat cock-head almost visible through pre-cum soaked wool...

To be continued.

Next: Chapter 2


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