YOUNG, HUNG, AND FULL `O CUM Ostrich78@hotmail.com
Warning: the following story will contain extensive homoerotic material including domination, SM, watersports, and CBT of an older male by a younger male. If you are not of a legal age to read this, or such material might offend or not be of interest to you, then do not proceed.
The author resides in San Diego and is always interested in meeting young men who might wish to cross from fantasy into reality in either a dom or sub role. Please contact me by e mail: ostrich78@hotmail.com
Part 3: YOUNG, HUNG, AND FULL O' CUM.
Please read Part 1 and 2 prior to this in order to understand the story line.
I spent the next hour or so getting cleaned up and tidying the master suite. My asshole was really sore now, having been fucked 3 times in not even a full day by this horny young stud. Now he was off on a one hour run: "Jesus" I thought, "the miracle of youth".
Zack arrived back, panting and covered in sweat. He stripped of his running clothes, dropping them in the middle of the floor and called me over to him.
"I think that you continue to believe that because you are older, you have something to say about what I do with your body". I am going to begin your training and humiliation so that you never again question who is in charge in this bedroom".
"Lick my feet boy" he commanded.
I got down on my knees, disgusted, and stared at his sweating feet. Even at a distance of 18 inches, I could smell that they were ripe from the recent run and his habit of not wearing socks in his running shoes.
I tentatively stuck out my tongue, and licked the top of the foot, almost retching in response to it. I am in no way attracted to feet; much less smelly ones.
"Get to it boy, or I'll fetch the belt" he said.
I began licking for all I was worth. All over the top of the foot; then he picked up his foot, resting it back on the heel so I could lick underneath it. Next he thoroughly enjoyed my having to individually suck each toe as if it were a tiny cock.
When I had finished with each of his feet, he commanded me to do each leg up to the height of his balls and ass. I did this, tasting the salty boy sweat that was still dripping down from his tight abdomen above. When this was completed, I was required to lick his entire ass, and all around his crotch, but not his cock or balls.
Then he lay down on the bed and I had to lick all over his abdomen; between each muscle striation on his slender six pack; his belly button, and up his chest to his sweating armpits.
"Now my pits, bitch" he said.
I took some offense at being called "bitch" by this kid, but knew my place and did not want to get the belt, so my tongue dove into his armpits. As a blond smooth boy, he had limited hair there and it too was blond. My mouth was filled with the taste of a sweaty, musty, young male.
I felt thoroughly humiliated: it is one thing to suck cock or rim: these are sexual acts between two people. To have to lick the sweat off another guy is different: there is no equality; no sense of an erotic interchange; simply a superior humiliating his inferior. This was reinforced by the obvious pleasure Zack took in dominating me: this wasn't simply about being in charge in the bedroom, it was a primitive animal act of dominance. Since I am old enough to be his dad, I found this pretty hard to take, despite my sexual arousal at the whole thing.
After his tongue bath, he told me to go start the shower and adjust the temperature. I did so, and awaited him. He stepped into the shower, and told me to join him. I did so, and then had to wash him from head to toe in every crevice of his body. I also had to shampoo and condition his hair, then dry him off afterwards.
After he was dry, he told me to make dinner. When I returned with his tray an hour later, he was sitting naked at the computer, lightly stroking another erection (does this kid ever stop?) and perusing some SM sites with great interest. I noticed that he was just finishing up with a cock and ball torture site, and as I watched him eat he began to review the Mr. S catalog of BD/SM equipment.
"Boy" he said.
"Yes Sir" I replied.
"We are going to build a dungeon in the bomb shelter. It's perfect: dark, far underground so no noise will disturb the neighbors; and really has a foreboding aura about it. See here (pointing to a photo of a saint Andrews cross), and here too (spanking horse), and look at this boy (pointing to a guy in 4 point restraint on his back with electrodes hooked to his balls)".
"Yes Sir" I replied, feeling my cock stir and my stomach sink.
"Fetch me your visa card boy, and then get to work on my cock while I order some materials", he said; as if he was asking me to pass the salt. He had complete confidence that I would do as I was told, and I did.
Inwardly I sighed, as I went to work on him again: "this will be the fourth time today" I thought to myself. I sucked the boys dick for the next 45 minutes. He was typing away; ordering God knows what; making comments about how "that must hurt" or "that boy is going to learn his lesson" and apparently enjoying himself, but he was much slower to cum this time. When he finally spurted, it was just one shot of boy semen that I felt in the back of my throat. I swallowed it all, then he ordered me to go to bed, explaining that tomorrow was going to be a big day for us.
I was surprisingly tired: fell asleep in minutes. Before I knew it, it was Sunday morning. I was awakened by a feeling of pressure against my hole: as I woke up, I felt Zack's dick slide in. He gave me a perfunctory morning fuck, came quickly to relieve his morning erection, then rolled off me and told me to make breakfast.
I prepared another breakfast and brought it upstairs. While we were eating, Zack explained that we would be moving his stuff in, then beginning a building project.
After breakfast, we showered together and then got dressed and took the truck over to his apartment. It was a studio; dingy and small. All of his stuff fit easily in the back seat of the truck. I thought to myself, "this kid has really been just getting by".
"I'll tell the landlord on Monday" he said, and we drove back to my house and unpacked his things in the master bedroom.
"I'll be sleeping here boy, I don't like to sleep alone".
"Yes Sir" I replied.
Next, we went out to the Home Depot. I couldn't believe all of material he bought (well...I bought really): four by fours; two by fours; plywood; lag bolts; screws; paint; sandpaper; rope; foam rubber; the list was endless. During the shopping spree, I called him sir at one point, and in a gentle voice he said "were not in the bedroom Scott, so its Zack here". Once again I found the reversal confusing, but said "OK Zack" and we completed our shopping. It took 2 trips with the truck to get it all home, then another hour to carry it all into the bomb shelter.
The first thing Zack and I did was build saw horses to work on. Then the rough carpentry began. Since I have a nice tool collection, the St Andrews cross was easy. Next, we sunk eye bolts into the rafters in various places. After that, we began the spanking horse by building a much more stable saw horse, then placing additional planks on top of it until it was just the right height, as measured against me of course.
Afternoons and evenings for the rest of the week were spent building, sanding, and finally painting it all. Then came a prolonged clean up of the horrible mess we had made. We had a good time on this project; it was like father and son working together. We were both a mess; covered in sawdust and grime; but there was a strong sense of bonding over the project. In the evenings, we made love with me always the bottom, but there were no threats or beatings; and I even got to cum each day.
With the project complete, I took stock of our work: it was an impressive dungeon. It contained the previously described St. Andrews cross, sanded finely and painted black with eyes for attaching ropes or chains; it contained a very stable spanking bench that was secured to the concrete floor such that it would not move, and was nicely padded so that my abdomen and cock would not be chafed when I was bent over it; there was a large and stable padded table covered in vinyl. It was like a massage table, only about 2 feet wider and 4 feet longer. It too had eyes for restraint. There was a toilet seat mounted on a very low stool; and a wall of pegboard and shelves that I knew would soon be filled with toys.
On Friday morning, the UPS truck arrived with 3 boxes, addressed to Zack. His boyish enthusiasm at their arrival reminded me of just how young he is. He ripped open the boxes and began showing their contents. In the first box was a series of padded leather restraints: arms, legs, ankles, strap to go around the waist with D rings; etc. In the second box was a collection of punishment devices: a strap with a wooden handle on it, thicker and shorter and wider than a razor strap (I later found out it was a "Canadian prison strap"); a fraternity paddle; a flogger; and a penis whip plus a penis cat `o nine tails. In the third box there was a stainless steel device that would hook to the shower and clean out my "cockhole" as Zack called it. There was a "triple ripple" butt plug; then there was another box inside this box: the label on the outside said "ET312, Eurostek electronic stimulator". Under this was a series of electronic sexual devices: electrodes attached to elastics for the cock and balls; electric butt plug; bipolar butt plug; and other things I couldn't recognize.
"Lets take this stuff down stairs and get it organized boy" said Zack.
"Yes Sir" I replied, knowing that I was going to be this kid's guinea pig as he learned about the art of domination, bondage, and cbt.
When we had finished arranging everything, Zack lit several candles and turned off the lights. There was an eerie flickering glow as the tongues of flame lit up the dungeon. It was really creepy down here.
"Strip Boy" came the expected command.
I had my clothes off quickly, not wanting to give him an excuse to punish me.
"Put your head under that stool" he said, pointing to the low toilet seat stool.
I lay on the floor looking up through the toilet seat. Zack came over and sat down, spreading his smooth cheeks as he did so.
"Eat my ass out boy, and I had better feel your tongue going way inside or else" came his instruction.
I began to rim him as best I could: it was a little claustrophobic down there, and I found it hard to concentrate on what I was doing as I felt increasingly closed in and anxious.
"You call that rimming boy? Get your ass up here, you need a little motivation" came the dreaded command.
I stood up, and with a hand on the shoulder, gently almost, Zack led me to the spanking horse. I stood with my legs spread wide, and he attached the padded restraints to my ankles, then to the legs of the horse. Next the wrist restraints were placed and connected to the front legs of the horse with me bent over and my abdomen resting on the padded flat top of the horse. Finally, a leather strap was fastened across my low back so that I really couldn't move at all.
As I lay there, knowing what was coming, I felt an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. I had been spanked before by Zack, so it wasn't really the punishment. It was the inescapability of it all. I actually found myself shaking.
I looked up to see Zack select the fraternity paddle off of the wall. He walked over and placed it on the floor leaning against the leg of the horse. Then, I felt his smooth hand on my back, gently massaging.
"Scott, I love you very much. You are a gentle man who I look forward to being with for a long time. However, you must learn to obey and concentrate on your sexual duties. I am going to give you 25 blows with the paddle, then we will begin your training in rimming again".
It was then that it hit me: I loved this boy too; but the parameters of our relationship while unusual were clear. Sexually, my needs don't count. I am there to be his dickpig; a tool to service him as he pleases. If I fail to perform, swift and sever punishment will follow. However, he in fact cares for me and outside of the sexual arena we would have a loving father-son type of relationship.
After another moment of gentle massaging, Zack's hand left my back and he picked up the paddle. He took a test swing with it to be sure he was going to strike me right where he wanted to. Then the wood slammed into my ass.
"WHACK" came the burning hard blow across both cheeks.
"WHACK" came the second hard blow.
"WHACK" came the third, and I gasped.
"WHACK" came the fourth, and I cried out a bit.
"WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK" rained down the blows.
"Sir...AAAAAAAAAGH...IT HURTSSS...PLEEEEASE...AAAAAH" came my cries.
"Its supposed to hurt boy, it will be over soon" he said in a gentle voice that contrasted with the searing pain he was inflicting on me.
Finally it was over. He released me from my bonds, and held me close for a couple of minute as I caught my breath.
"Now lets see if you can do the rimming right this time boy" he said, and led me back to the toilet stool.
I did my absolute best, and it seemed to satisfy him this time. After a few minutes, he shifted position so his balls hung down, and I licked them; taking each in my mouth in turn. His cock was nowhere to be seen: undoubtedly pointing straight up based upon the moans of pleasure I heard.
I felt really proud: I was pleasing this hot dominant boy. I wanted nothing more than to make him feel good.
Then, Zack got up and snapped his fingers. I got up too. He made me lay on the large table on my back, then he brought some toys over and climbed up, straddling me so that his cock was right in my face.
"Open your cumhole boy" was his vulgar command.
I did so, and began to suck his cockhead to the accompanying sounds of his sighs of pleasure.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my cock: he had whacked it with the penis slapper.
"I felt teeth boy, when I feel teeth you are going to feel pain. I'm going to train you to be the best cocksucking bitch ever" he said.
"UUUMPH>>FFTHKU SIR.MMMPH" I attempted to say with my mouth full.
This continued for about a half hour, with my periodically receiving slaps to my cock and balls when he felt teeth. However, I soon improved my performance in this area, and was rewarded with 4 spurts of warm tasty boy cum.
Then Zack got up and attached my wrists and ankles to the four corners of the table so that I was immobile and spread eagled. He blindfolded me, then I felt his hands on my cock and balls, heard some clicking that I could not identify, then felt something slip into my ass and heard more clicking.
"Tell me when you feel something boy" he said.
"Sir, I feel a tingling in my dick" I replied moments later.
"Sir, now I feel a massaging in my ass...AAAGH...that's so hot..."
"Good boy. I am now going to go out for a run, then shower and take it easy. I will leave you hooked up to this machine as a reward. The instruction manual described 18 different programs. I have selected a complex program that I think you are going to like.
"C Ya" were the last words I heard, then his footsteps going up the stairs. I soon forgot about them as exquisite sensations shot through my cock, balls, and ass.
When I had read about electric devices for the cock and balls, I had only considered them as means of punishment. This was not punishment. Instead, waves of tingling pleasure went through my cock and balls alternating with waves of massaging sensations inside my ass. It was like being gently and lovingly fucked while simultaneously having my cock sucked, and my balls licked. I became aware that there really was a program running this: the sensations in my ass correlated with those in my cock, and eventually a crescendo built up. I felt waves of orgasmic pleasure and felt warm cum hitting my chest and face.
This process repeated itself and I came a second time. Then, I heard footsteps. The electric device was turned off; then my restraints removed. A towel wiped off the semen. My wrists and ankles were massaged; then my chest and back. The blindfold was removed, and Zack's beautiful face was in front of mine. He kissed me deeply, then guided me to roll over on my stomach. He removed the butt plug, then gently inserted his cock into my already lubricated hole. He quietly and gently fucked me for the next half hour until he gasped and shuddered with his orgasm; I shot my load for the third time that day as I felt his body spasm against mine.
TO BE CONTINUED.