When Master Calls (8)
All previous stories in this series have been true, this one is written in the hope of more action once the pandemic is under control! Please remember that Nifty relies on your donations to keep us all entertained.
Covid has a lot to answer for -- not that i've had it but the various lockdowns and restrictions have meant that i haven't been able to serve Master for a long time. Soon He will call again and i must be ready. In preparation i have been working to keep my nipples as sensitive as possible. Master loves to torture them and it is so much easier for Him if they are sensitive, red-raw even, and exquisitely painful to the touch. How much more exquisite it will be to feel His fingers twisting and turning, pulling and stretching them as i squirm and squeal! But for now all i can do is work hard to keep them as sensitive as i can with the use of clothes pegs, steel nipple clamps and a wire boot brush which i draw back and forth across their surface until blood is almost drawn.
In my mind's eye the day has come. Master will have called as i am performing some trivial task such as clearing away the breakfast dishes, the pulse of my phone will draw me to its screen where i read Hello. It's a strangely informal, even matey greeting but it will belie what is to follow. There will be a momentary tremble, my skin, I'm sure, will pale slightly. Not fully dressed and standing there in the kitchen i know i must immediately prepare and i will already feel my inadequacy in the light of the call. How can i make ready for such an honour as serving Him? My cock, or little willy, as Master insists i call it stiffens and tents outwards in my white briefs yet my legs feel oddly limp. All calls to Master's presence instil these nervous feelings. i reply, Hello Sir, thank you for calling. His instructions are curt. Get here now, it's time to thrash your arse. Bring the riding crop.
Preparations are always swift, after cleaning my arsehole i will throw on suitable clothes, cheap thin briefs, jeans, a T-shirt and deck shoes without socks. Master is not interested in seeing me dressed and the only attention he has ever given to my clothes is to piss on them or use my underpants to rub His seed into my face before sending me home.
Soon i will be stretched out on His floor, arms extended before me, hardly daring to look up but eyes on a level with His feet. As i inch forward towards him my willy presses painfully across the carpet. He has moved behind me and told me to raise my torso over the coffee table with my arse exposed and wholly displayed, legs apart leaving my balls free for anything He may choose. There is a swift movement, at first it just seems like air moving but in an instant that thrust is made a harsh reality with a thwack as the leather of the crop bites into my arse cheeks. So sudden and so firm i cannot help but cry out even though this is what i have dreamed of for so many months. The sting is so sharp, it is difficult to say where the pain is as it radiates so fast that my body contorts, and all sense and feeling, all my being for that moment, becomes a surrender to Master's will, to my pain which is His pleasure.
Why are you crying? It hurts so much Sir. So?
There is no answer to this, as Master well knows, it is a routine W/we have been through many times and one day i know i will be able to suffer for Master without screaming. That will be a proud day and Master has promised that He will display my fortitude in front of other subs so they may observe and learn from me. Yet Master has asked a question so i must reply.
Forgive me Master, although it hurts so much i want to offer it you as a sign of my submission, please teach me to accept your punishments in a more respectful manner. If it pleases you Master it must please me; that is all I wish for.
And with that the crop rains down again and again, making welts across my flesh which i know i shall have to display tomorrow at the gym -- a thought which gives me more strength (and i can hardly believe it myself, but which makes my little dick even harder as i think of the humiliation to come in the changing room). There is a pause, i hear the crop dropped on to the floor and Master lifts me up to stand in His arms, face to face. His rock hard cock pushes between my legs and digs into my balls, He pull me into His arms and allows my face, wet with tears to nestle in his neck, soothing me with the words Good boy, you've done well.
Master's left hand moves from my back where He has been supporting me and before i realise it He has gathered my balls in it. At first this is warm and comforting, but there is an almost imperceptible increase of pressure, so slow but so unrelenting, a gradual squeezing and then a rolling of my bollocks in the sac as He continues to say sweet words.
Good boy, you like to please Master, don't you? It's not really a question; W/we both know it's a statement of fact but the very nature of my pleasing Master means a gift of pain, and pain has to be expressed sometimes with a flinching, sometimes (although I am still learning to control this) with words, muffled screams and shrieks. By now the pressure on my balls is all i can think about, my life is contained in only this thought, this fear - yet I know deep down that Master will never go too far; my trust in Him is complete. Nevertheless i flinch and as i do so of course the pain is increased, as i pull away slightly His hand intensifies its grip and i throw back my head and cry out.
Fuck! Help! No! PLEASE NO MORE!
Master releases His grip and brings His mouth to mine, kissing me deeply, probing inside with His tongue, caressing the back of my head as i begin to breathe more slowly and calm down. But i have let myself down: whilst Master is patient and forgiving i have thought only of my own foolish, unfounded fears; despite my trust in Him i have failed to display it with proper surrender, there is a mismatch here of my complete trust versus my actual behaviour. Master, as i say, is patient and W/we shall work on it.
Meanwhile Master caresses and calms me He gently rubs his hand over my left nipple, He then bends and takes my other tit into his mouth, nibbling and stretching it outwards with his teeth; transfixed and suddenly overwhelmed with the heat and sweaty closeness of His body, the pressure on my tits giving such exquisite pain, i feel my seed pulsing out ..... .
Master is forgiving and smiles, It's been a long time boy, of course next time you will be punished for coming without permission.
Oh Master. i cannot wait!