The Xavier

By sharper

Published on Dec 11, 2021

Gay

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ THE USUAL WARNINGS APPLY TO THIS TALE.

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THE XAVIER - PART FIVE

"Are you going to torture me Sir?" he said, cocking his head to locate me from the sound of my voice. "Nothing you can't stand." No point in scaring him. "Don't worry; I'm not going hurt you. I'm going to give you a time you won't forget, and milk you dry!" He smiled, but it was one of those smiles filled with uncertainty. "Don't be scared," I said. "Are you scared?" "No Sir." "That's good. Do you like being tortured?" "I er I don't know Sir," he answered. "Come come," I said. "I think you know exactly what you like. Did you like being spanked just now for instance?" "I er suppose so, Sir ..." I just loved his uncertainty. "Just step forward a bit," he was standing too close to the table, "towards me." I was standing in front of him, couple of metres. He shuffled forward. "Yeah," I said, I circled round him, "boi likes being spanked. Like when I slapped your face too. You liked that." "Er yes, Sir, I did." "So you see you liked that. So what about this?" I had picked up a short riding crop, one of my favourites and thwacked the back of his legs. He let out an almighty yelp and crumpled. The crop had evenly cut the backs of both thighs. Because his hands were not free, all he could do was kneel to cover the site of the pain. He spread his knees to sit on the floor, ventilating madly with pain and shock. "How about that?" I asked calmly, walking round to face him. "Sir?" He raised his head, clearly in pain, snivel-nosed. I put my crotch in his face. The smell and feel of my manhood clearly comforted him. He opened his mouth attempting to taste it. I pressed his head against it and let him breathe it in for a bit before letting go. "Come on, stand up. This isn't going to do." I helped him up by putting a hand under his chin and pulling, forcing him to his feet, and then stepped away so that he was straining to guess where the next blow might come from. He swivelled his head in various directions as though tasting the air. "Are you ready?" I said. He immediately flinched. "No ... not yet," I warned, but then struck him again, this time his tight bicep. He screamed, quietly, controlling himself, and forced himself to stay upright. "What do you say?" "Th-thank you Sir." This was good. He was learning. "Thank you. That's right. Well done." He knew the other arm was due for a thwack and - Thwack! - I slashed the crop against his other arm. He winced but didn't speak until I said, "Ok?" "Yes. Sir. Thank you Sir." "You need to be quicker than that," I said. "Yes Sir sorry Sir I'll be quicker next time." "Good. Lift your hands." He did so with difficulty but understood that he had to expose his buttocks. Thwack! I caned his arsecheeks a couple of times quickly. He was still in his underpants so no worries about damaging the skin. "Ah. Ah. Ah. Sir. Thank you Sir!" he whimpered. "Thank you Sir," he said again. "Thank you Sir!" I know he meant that he wanted me to stop, or slow down, but he knew I wouldn't stop. We were only just starting after all. I rubbed his bottom roughly and took the occasion to lower his pants a bit at the back. Then I undid the cuffs and reattached his wrists in front so that they didn't get in the way when I pushed him back towards the table and made him adopt the position face down bent over; his crack was at last exposed for me to look at it properly and I examined the lovely object thoroughly. It smelt of his clean sweat and a little urine. I stroked it a bit, letting my finger just slip in a quarter of an inch, then stepped back. That was nice. I looked at it. He clenched and released, and clenched and released, uncertain what to do before the next strike which would obviously come quickly and harder than before. Crack! "Earghgh erggthank you sSir ..." "Do you need a gag?" I said. He shook his head. "If you need to scream it might be better for the neighbours." As if they could hear! "nNo Sir thank you Sir ..." "I have a nice ball gag," I said. "No Sir ... Thh-thank you Sir." "Ok. Your funeral." So I cracked my crop across his buttocks with a sharp crack that had him buckled in agony and screaming like a pig. He barely controlled himself before I hit him again. "WHAT do you say?" I shouted. "S-sorry Sir thank you Sir, Sir thank you. Thank you! eeeeewah!" He was crying. "That's right," I said rubbing his bottom and massaging the pain. His soft hairy arse felt so tempting to dig my fingers in. "I think I'll get that gag." "N-no Sir I'll be alright!" I think he was worried he wouldn't be able to say the stop word if he was gagged - which was reasonable. "But I don't like the noise." "I'll be quiet I promise, Sir," he said. I wasn't sure if I should be negotiating like this. Give a boi choices and soon he's choosing to go. I needed to regain the initiative. I grabbed the gag from where it was hanging and pushed it over his face in one fast manoeuvre. He closed his mouth and clenched his teeth and resisted powerfully. It took all my strength to use the gag straps to hold his head whilst I hooked the thing behind his neck so that the ball, a mouth-sized ball of red rubber gradually forced itself between his lips, between his teeth and onto his tongue. I had my knee in the small of his back to hold him, it, down, and, though I'd really lost my temper, I had my groin up against its backside and its face pressed into the table top. It started kicking, like a wild animal, but because it was face down into the table there was a limit to how much this could achieve. Thankfully I'd cuffed its arms out of harm's way - it could only use them to touch its own private parts. I used all my weight to keep it still whilst the gag tightened into the corners of its lips and had the desired effect of forcing it to shut up. "Won't be for long," I said. Its grunts were still pretty loud. "Stay down. We're not finished yet. You need ..." I started to release my weight from its back. Immediately it started to struggle and try to stand up, so I pushed its face down with a thump and held it whilst thinking of where some ankle restraints attached to the table legs and how I might attach them if he was unwilling to comply. This was getting complicated. "I said stay down. Or I'll have to be more persuasive. You need to learn." As a concession, if that's what it is, I reached up and released the blindfold. I needed to see its eyes, I realised, to better understand its feelings and how it was going to react. The boi needed to be able to see what was happening, for now, to not be terrified. Because, after all, there was nothing to be afraid of was there? It grunted, snorting through the gag and blinking, trying to look me in the eye, as though that might communicate something. "Ok. Better. Ready to cooperate." It wasn't a question. It grunted. I stayed there, on top of it, letting it feel my erection and power. I let it smell my breath and kissed its cheek. "Don't worry boi; I AM going to fuck you." It was resistant, but I persisted. I lay there with my weight doing the talking, calming him gradually with a persuasive insistence that it was safe, and that it could not resist, and that I was there to be its Master, and that this was something it wanted, until, gradually, its breathing relaxed, it stopped squirming and went very very quiet, and calm. Its chest was barely heaving. It had become quiescent. "Good boi," I said.

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END OF THE XAVIER - PART FIVE

Next: Chapter 6


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