THE NEWBY
Part Two
By Arthur.
Authors Note:
For a full list of other stories by "Arthur", you can use the "Prolific Authors" link.
These include stories in the sections of "Adult/Youth" "Young Friends" "Authoritarian" "SF/Fantasy"
Erotica is not pornography; it is the thought and intent that creates the desire to fulfill a dream.
As my hand sent the belt towards the upturned pair of white small globes, a strange mistiness surrounded the object below me; only those two unprotected globes were in focus as the brown leather made contact with them in a resounding crack.
Somewhere in the fuzziness of my head, I heard a child like voice trying to break through the tingling sensation I was feeling throughout my body.
"One Sir, thank you Sir"
An urge was rising deep down as the hand holding the brown leather disappeared from my narrow view, then, with a life of its own, the hand appeared again to descend once more onto the whiteness of the small target with the red stripe across it.
The echo of the crack sent new shivers down my spine as my groin reacted to the quiver of flesh under the belt. In all my 19 years I had always tried to be good to others and too protect those smaller or weaker than I was.
"Two Sir, thank you Sir."
The words were now meaningless and were heard only on the very edge of my consciousness; my very being was totally focused on the buzz deep inside me as another red welt miraculously appeared on the globes below me.
The disembodied hand lowered again as my body did the unexpected and I became harder and harder as I watched the hand come crashing down again, this time with all the force it could muster as it laid the belt over both the previous marks.
A high pitched scream, much like a bird in pain or fright, rent the air of the room although, to my ears, it was no more than a faint disturbance to my own desire to feel the power of a god coursing through me.
"Three Sir, thank you Sir"
Brushing aside the sound of tears in the faint voice, I wound up my arm again and sent the leather crashing down, the thrill of hearing the cracking sound and the startled cry it elicited from the white mounds, sent shocks of electricity through my rigid shaft.
In all my short years I had never felt so in tune with my surroundings as I did at the moment of that cracking leather, power like this, if addictive, was far beyond anything I knew, it was like a strong drug and I wanted more.
There was no one to stop me so I began to flail away, ignoring all my own feelings just to get the next fix of the overpowering emotion that was sending waves of sensual pleasure through every inch of my groin.
Nothing could interrupt my pleasure as I laid the belt on those globes time and again, no sound penetrated my brain as I watched with disembodied delight, the red stripes appearing one after the other on the white mounds.
Swirling mist enveloped my very being as I approached my climax, my jeans tight and causing pain to my crotch until, finally, I had to drop the belt and release myself from the constriction of denim only to spray with uncontrollable lust, my very seed all over the floor.
I could vaguely hear a deep gasping of breath as I sank to the floor in total satiation, perspiration was running like a river, down my face as I gasped and panted on my hands and knees. Nothing had ever felt this exhausting, while masturbation was sometimes fun, this had been something I would never be able to imitate again.
The smell of fresh semen entered my nostrils as I became aware of the roughness of the carpet on my forehead, I was spent beyond exhaustion and only the soft touch of a small hand against my fingers, brought me back to the here and now.
Sam, where was Sam? Had he gone to the old man to fulfill our agreement, everything was a blur as I lifted my head from the floor, the mist had cleared and the sound of the traffic outside was penetrating my now conscious mind.
Something else was also adding to the noise of the traffic, a kitten or some other small pet, was mewling its need out to its owner. Shaking my head, I forced myself up onto my hands and knees, taking notice of the splotches of fresh semen below me, my shaft hung in limpid fulfillment from the open fly of my jeans.
Again the mewling sound came to my ears as I pushed myself upwards, the small fingers trying to grasp my hand as I came upright, let go and my eyes cleared. The first sight to greet me after the mist that had previously been surrounding me; was that of a small body lying on the floor, his butt had been brutally lashed with some instrument of torture.
The harsh red welts had in some places, been broken open, small rivulets of blood were running down the white cheeks, the skin of his back was covered in sweat and the muscles underneath were twitching and jumping as the tiny hands grasped unsuccessfully at the flooring.
Who was this boy?
What was he doing in here on my floor?
Who could be such a bastard as to beat a little boy like this?
The fog cleared and then it all became clear in my soggy brain and from deep inside a voice called out.
"OH GOD, GOD, WHAT HAVE I DONE, SAAAMM?"
It was me, I had done this to Sam, I was to blame, what can I do, oh shit, fuck, no, not Sam, what happened to me, I'm not like this, it wasn't me, it couldn't be me, oh shit, oh fuck.
"Sam, Sam, talk to me."
I reached down and lifted the almost unconscious boy in my arms, his breathing was erratic and his eyelids were fluttering as they tried to focus on my face, the tight white lips opened slowly as they tried to speak their accusations.
The tear stains on the innocent face, mixed with the bloody teeth marks on his white lips made it difficult for me to hear the soft-spoken words.
"Thirty six Sir, thank you Master."
The eyelids fluttered again and then closed as the beautiful young head fell back against my chest, his little diaphragm lifted and fell in short gasps as the slender body shuddered in my arms.
Suddenly I felt a wetness seeping through the denim of my jeans and, with some difficulty, I lifted the boy up to my chest and glanced down at my thigh.
There for all to see was my mark of shame, the blood from his wounds had run down onto my leg and was now soaking slowly into the fabric. Guilt overtook my senses as I looked down at that blotch of sin; I was no better than an abuser of children, even though I was not much more than a child myself.
How could I have let this happen, I'm meant to be a protector of others, not an abuser, I have no right to live, not after doing this to someone so trusting, I'd never be able to look at myself in the mirror again, nor look at another boy without feeling the shame and guilt I felt at this moment.
The body in my arms, stirred slightly and a soft voice came again to my ears.
"Thank you Master, I love you, thank you for taking me Master."
What the...? What was he saying, after what I had done to him? He loves me? Me the abuser, the sadist, the very person who should have protected him? He loves me?
Suddenly, all the strength left my body and I crumpled to the floor, his small light frame coming to rest on top of me, his mouth resting on my neck as his lips softly sent thrills through my skin, he was giving me kisses as lightly as feathers as he murmured out his love for my brutality to him.
"Master, Master, I will never leave you, please use me, take me as your own for all time, I love you Master."
A burning sensation started in my eyes and the salty taste of running tears ran over my lips as his gentle voice entered my ears, I had been the cause of his pain and yet, he said he loved me, the ugly guilt found its way into my head as the tears ran unhindered down my face.
"Sam, oh Sam, I so sorry, I don't know what happened to me."
"No Master, don't be sorry, I'm your slave, I'm here to bring you pleasure, my needs are nothing as long as you have your pleasure from me, I love you my Master."
"Sam, I...I..."
His small hands clasped my own numb ones and tried to pull me upwards from the floor.
"Let me help you Master, I'll wash you in the shower so you feel better, don't worry about me, I'm here to give you pleasure and to serve you in every way. Come, let me take you to the shower and wash you."
"Sam..."
"It's nothing Master, everything is as it should be."
The sharp needles of hot water speared into my bare skin as the shower was turned on by Sam, my head was still in the clouds as he limped and grimaced during his chosen task of washing my body.
The unfamiliar hollowness in the pit of my stomach, eased as his small hands rubbed over my flesh in his need to serve. Would this so called boy of mine really follow any orders I gave him? Should I test him or just accept what he said?
A thousand questions pummeled my mind but no answers came back, from the depths a voice began to make it self heard above the myriad of confusion that I felt inside.
`Your 19, you have your own slave, use him, he likes it, be a big time Master, no one would ever know, you can always blame him, go on take him, make the punk slave boy serve you.'
The voice of reason began its clamour in my head as temptation took its hold; the tingling drug of power ran through my groin at the thought of a servant to fulfill my every wish. Looking down at the brown haired head below me, a sudden surge of lust ran through my belly and straight into my groin.
At the rising of my shaft, the small head lifted up and the eyes looked deeply into my own in a gesture of askance. Unbidden by any thought, my mouth opened and an unrecognizable voice came from my throat.
"Open your mouth and suck it, slave, all of it."
The green eyes looking up at me softened, an expression of eagerness swept across the child like features as the narrow, bruised lips opened wide and moved forward to engulf my rigid member in one smooth action, stopping only when the lips were pressed hard onto my pubic bone.
The sensation of warmth sent warm shivers through my belly as the tightness of his throat massaged my glans. The eyes never left my own as he knelt below me with my rampant shaft buried deeply into his sarcophagus as he breathed in short gasps through his nose.
My slave boy stayed speared on my member without moving until, with no more the flicker of his eyelids, he began to swallow in a smooth pulsing action, the caresses of his internal throat muscles felt like a thousand warm wet fingers running along and around my flesh.
Final reason was pushed aside at the first movement as my hands made their way to the sides of his tear stained head, clasping tightly and pulling that enticing mouth as close as I could get it to my groin.
There was no resistance to my demands as I withdrew my hips until only the glans was sitting at his soft lips, the moistness of his mouth showing in a silvery sheen on the length of my muscle. The urge to bury myself with one long hard thrust, over took my need for sympathy and, with the final decision made, I pushed my hips forward with all the pent up hate I held for myself.
The eyes never left my own as the shaft forced its way back into the wetness of his waiting mouth, tears began to run freely down his cheeks as I forced open his narrow throat once again, the feeling of soft fingers in the act of massaging my hot flesh as it disappeared into his depths, activated my hands to pull with all my strength, forcing myself as deep as I could get.
The gasping and grunting below me, went unheard as I reveled in the hot moistness of his willing orifice, only my pleasure was important to me and the thought of my slaves discomfort was a non event as I repeated the action of subjugation on my personal toy.
The heat built in my belly as I neared my climax, nothing mattered to me except the driving force of my own satiation, no thought of protection, no thought of comfort for the object below me, only the overriding need of the feeling of power I had earlier felt and the need to spread my hot seed over the internal digestive system of my slave boy.
I was immune to the hot needles of water as they sent their needles onto my skin, only the heat rising with sudden and overpowering lust were of any import to me as I drove time and again, deeply into the willing hot flesh until, with a cry of animalistic intensity, I sent my offering in great hot spurts down he channel that surrounded me.
The sounds of gagging and choking meant nothing to me as I tried to thrust even deeper into my own personal receptacle, my hands holding tightly, almost crushingly, onto the small head as it tried to adjust to my brutally thrusting organ.
With a final shuddering thrust I sent my juices on their outward journey too find their home deep in the belly of my willing boy, his needs never entered my thoughts as my knees turned to jelly and my breathe gasped in sharp intakes as my lungs tried to refill them selves after the cataclysmic climax.
A birds tongue began its work on my over sensitive organ as, My Boy, went to work cleaning off any residue that was left after his acceptance of my offering. After my shaft was clean, and, as the water continued to run over my heated skin, Sam lowered his head to the floor of the shower, then, with a voice no more than a whisper, he spoke the words that finally sealed my future.
"Thank you Master, for your great offering, what are your orders Master?"
The heavy lump of guilt disappeared from my belly as my own voice spoke out with a new authority.
"Clean yourself up while I get dry, when you're finished, make sure the bathroom is clean then come to me."
"Yes Master."
I stepped from the shower and began to dry off as My Boy, damn it was such a great feeling when I thought of him that way, rose in the stall and set about washing off the stench of the streets and the blood of his bondage to me.
I lay down on the bed as he went about his duties in the bathroom; only a faint twinge of doubt entered my head as the soporific after-glow settled over me. A slave owner, that was me; a genuine slave owner, somehow it seemed right that I was better than him, after all he was only a street kid and had no one else to look out for him, why not me? How I was going to keep both of us on what little money I had left didn't enter my head, I heard the soft patter of bare feet approach my bed.
"All is done Master."
"Good boy, now, I need some information from you."
"Yes Master."
"I need to know everything about you being my slave."
"Master, with all respect, I am not good enough to advise you but, if it is your wish, I can tell you the name of a man that will help you, he is very experienced and will make sure you know everything needed to run my life."
"Ok, well if that's what I have to do then we can go tomorrow and talk to him, for now I'm bloody hungry and need something to eat."
"Yes Master, do you wish me to go and get it for you?"
"What? You will go and get something and bring it back here for me?"
"If that is your orders Master, if you tell me how much you wish to spend, then I will find you a good meal and return it too you Master."
Reaching for my jeans, I pulled out my thinning wallet and gave Sam a $10.00 note as he pulled on his ragged shorts and torn tee shirt.
"Ok Sam, take this and get me the best meal you can for the money, if there's any left them get something for your self."
"Yes Master."
A small clean hand reached out for the note and, with a low bow, Sam disappeared through the door. It was only as the door closed and the silence of the room began to invade my thoughts, that I had the first doubts of ever seeing him again, after all, $10.00 was a good amount of money to a street kid, had I made my first mistake in living in the city?
The time dragged as I lay there waiting, as the minutes passed my doubts rose as to the honesty of Sam, damn it, ok so it cost me $10.00 but as a lesson in city living I suppose it was a cheap one, damn it, ten bucks is ten bucks.
The intense activity of the last hour began to make itself felt on my body as, with a heavy sigh, my eye lids closed slowly until I felt nothing but the softness of the bed under me, tomorrow is another day and this time I will just have to be more careful of who I get tied up with and while the stupendous feeling of power had been a real rush, I still had to make my way in this world.
TO BE CONTINUED: