“I can deal with consequences.” Johnny felt almost lightheaded, knowing he was crossing a line with Eric, yet somehow unable to stop himself. Holding Eric’s wrists tightly, his knees pressed against Eric’s sides, he lifted his head, sliding his cock toward Eric’s mouth.
“You’ll suffer, Johnny. If I let you do this, understand you will pay for it later.”
“Yes, Sir,” Johnny answered huskily, cutting off his own words with a moan as the head of his cock pressed past Eric’s parted lips. He closed his eyes, letting bliss fall over him like a net as Eric began to kiss, lick and suckle his penis, able to use only his mouth to please Johnny.
Johnny shifted forward, pressing his cock deep into Eric’s throat. He watched as Eric closed his eyes, letting his jaw fall open as he accepted the onslaught. Thrilling to the power of his position, as well as Eric’s very skillful ministrations, Johnny was soon close to the edge of orgasm. He was panting, thrusting his hips as he fucked Eric’s face. “Oh God!” he cried, jerking back. The uncontrolled spasm caused his ejaculate to spurt in thick globs over Eric’s face and into his dark hair.
Johnny’s heart was racing, his loins throbbing. A tendril of fear snaked into his consciousness as he realized what he’d done. His “master” lay naked, pinned beneath his slave boy, covered in his semen like a cheap whore.
Johnny let go of Eric’s wrists, reaching for the box of tissues from the nightstand. Hurriedly he began to wipe off the sticky mess from Eric’s face and hair but Eric stopped him. “Drop the tissue, slave. You’ll lick it off. Then you’ll go to the playroom and kneel and wait for your promised punishment.”
~*~
What was I thinking, what was I thinking? Johnny knelt on the soft sheepskin rug in their playroom, his forehead touching the ground, his ass in the air as Eric had taught him. He was facing away from the door, his ears pricked to hear Eric enter. His cock, so hard before, had softened and shriveled as he waited, the minutes ticking by.
It had been thrilling to dominate Eric on the bed, to hold him down, to use his mouth as Eric had used Johnny’s so many times before. Yet, almost the second he’d come the thrill had evaporated, the fear as he saw the cruel gleam in Eric’s eye bringing him down from a short-lived high.
Wait for your promised punishment… Surely this endless kneeling was part of the punishment! It had to have been ten minutes already! That was a long time to remain in this position, especially after just having come. Johnny would have preferred to lie in his lover’s arms and perhaps drifted into a little doze. When he awoke, they could make love. What better way to pass a lazy Sunday afternoon?
At the same time, his predicament was no surprise. Eric had warned him he would pay the price for daring to step so completely out of his place in their D/s relationship. And honestly, he knew it was just a game. Eric wouldn’t really punish him. The only real punishment would be if he never came into the playroom at all! Surely in a moment he would walk in to find poor Johnny naked on the floor, his ass bare, already tingling with the anticipated whipping he was sure to receive. Johnny’s cock hardened at the thought. Though he still hadn’t figured out why and maybe never would, a good thuddy whipping with a heavy flogger made Johnny so hot he could orgasm from a few strokes to his cock after one of Eric’s sessions. The lovely irony of this whole thing was his so-called punishment would really be a reward.
Or so he thought.
Johnny heard the door open at last. He started to lift his head to see but Eric’s voice stopped him. “Head down. Don’t move.” Johnny obeyed, his cock now fully erect, Eric’s presence alone enough to arouse him to a completely ready state.
“This is a good time to introduce a new toy I ordered just for you.” Johnny heard Eric rummaging in the sideboard. He came over to Johnny. “You may kneel up, hands palm up on your knees, legs spread. Go on, move.” Eric slapped Johnny’s ass as he hurried into position.
His master stood in front of him dressed in soft black leather pants, skintight over his shapely thighs and sizable package. He wore no shirt. Unconsciously Johnny licked his lips. Eric smiled. “This is called a cock and wrist restraint.” He held up a harness of black leather. It had a belt with wrist cuffs attached as well as an adjustable leather cock strap. “The ad says it combines the best of bondage and cock and ball stimulation. You’re going to be stimulated all right, slave. Stand up.”
Johnny stood, his eyes locked on the wicked-looking device. “Bend over a little,” Eric instructed. He buckled the belt around Johnny’s waist. The cuffs were in the back. Eric took each wrist, locking it into a cuff so Johnny’s hands were secured at his waist, just behind his hips. Next Eric drew the leather strap down between Johnny’s ass cheeks, wrapping the cuff at its end around the base of Johnny’s penis.
“Try to stand straight,” Eric ordered. Johnny tried and winced, the pressure around his cock restricting his movement. “Not tight enough—you can still move too easily,” Eric said as he ratcheted the cock cuff more tightly and pulled the strap between his ass cheeks higher.
“Now every time you move, you’ll feel it in your cock and balls, slave. But just to make sure you remember who you belong to, I’m going to add some reminders.” Eric brought over a little leather hood, called a parachute, which he’d used on Johnny before. The leather hood was secured around the base of the balls. Teardrop-shaped little iron weights were attached to the hood by chains, pulling and stretching the delicate ball sac.
Expertly Eric attached the parachute to his slave’s balls. He clipped two large weights suspended by chains to the parachute, making Johnny hiss with pain, though his cock continued to bob lewdly at full attention. “You don’t look so Dom now, do you, boy?” Eric said. He retrieved his digital camera, shooting several pictures of Johnny, bent forward, his arms bound behind him, his cock and balls locked in a torture device.
“I love that look of beautiful suffering on your face, slave,” Eric said, moving close to Johnny. “But it’s nothing compared to what’s coming.”
Johnny was deeply aroused by being bound, clipped, cuffed and chained. But he was pressed up to the edge of his sensual envelope, real fear only a breath away. Eric’s last words sent him just over the edge. Panic began to rise in his throat like bile. “Eric. I can’t do this. It hurts. It hurts and I don’t think I can take a whipping on top of it.”
Instead of releasing him and taking him in his arms as Johnny had expected, Eric simply smiled, his eyes hooded with lust, his cock bulging against the black leather. He was holding the single tail whip against his hip. “I’m going to teach this wayward little cock a lesson it won’t soon forget. You can’t pin your master down, jerk off all over him and expect no consequences, can you?”
“Please,” Johnny begged, “I’ve learned my lesson.”
“You don’t think you can take a whipping on top of it, huh? You’d be amazed what you can take, Johnny boy.” Eric struck Johnny’s cock with the lash, not too hard, but hard enough to startle him, hard enough to sting. “The thing is, slave, you can take whatever I give you. Because you don’t have a choice, do you? You belong to me. You’re my bound boy toy, ready to receive the punishment you claimed you were willing to suffer. You may be afraid but look at your cock. It says otherwise. I’ve never seen you so hard. You could break a brick with this thing.” Roughly Eric grabbed Johnny’s cock, which was indeed as hard as steel, though this was partially due to the blood trapped there as a result of the tight cuff at the base of the shaft.
Johnny felt the panic spill over into his blood. His heart was thumping against his ribs. He couldn’t take his eyes off the single tail lash Eric was waving idly near his bound cock. Johnny’s balls were aching from the weights. He couldn’t stand up straight because of how he was bound. The thought of Eric whipping his cock and balls with that stinging little whip was too much to handle. Johnny felt himself on the verge of tears, though through it all his cock remained hard and stiff.
“Eric, please.” He tried to back away, his s
teps hobbled by his restraints. Eric moved forward, lifting the whip. He struck Johnny’s cock with several wicked flicks of his wrist as Johnny yelped.
Gasping, Johnny cried, “Eric! Please. I’m not kidding. Abuela.”
Eric froze. The last time Johnny had used his safeword they’d been at The Cavern, with Johnny pushed beyond his limits. Eric had let his wounded pride push him and his sub past a point where Johnny had felt safe. Johnny knew Eric had never forgiven himself for that. Now at least Johnny had spoken up before it had gone too far. Eric dropped the whip as if it were on fire.
Quickly he released the straps and bindings that held Johnny, throwing it all aside as Johnny sank to his knees. Eric knelt in front of him, taking him in his arms. They embraced silently for a while, Johnny’s breathing eventually slowing to normal, the pulse slamming in his throat finally easing.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I was afraid. It was too much.”
“I know,” Eric said. “That’s why we have the word. I’m glad you used it before it went too far. Forgive me, sweet boy.” He kissed Johnny’s cheek and stood up. “Are you okay now?”
“Yeah. I’m okay. I think it was just too much too fast. Being bound like that, it was a very intense experience.”
“Well, gauging from your raging erection, it wasn’t a wholly negative one!”
Johnny grinned sheepishly. “No. Actually it was super hot. It’s that single tail. The thought of welts on my cock—I can’t handle it.”
Eric shook his head. “I know how to use it, silly boy. I wouldn’t have harmed you. I might hurt you—because it’s what you need, but I would never harm you.” He reached up, ruffling Johnny’s blond hair. “Let’s get dressed and get some lunch.”
As they walked into the bedroom Eric turned to his lover and said, “Don’t think you’re off the hook, boy. You may have secured a postponement but the event is most certainly not canceled.”
Johnny’s face must have given away his trepidation over that remark because Eric laughed, relenting. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t use the lash on your cock. Not yet. You’re not ready yet. Someday you will be though. Someday you will submit to whatever I do to you, trusting me completely, not letting your own fears and uncertainty get in the way.”
Eric sobered, his smile tinged with sadness. “Don’t think using your safeword is a failing on your part. If anything, it’s my failing. I tried to take you too far, too fast. I wasn’t paying the right kind of attention. I’ll work hard not to let that happen again, Johnny. One day you and I will get to a place where there is no need of safewords—where trust and connectedness is absolute.
Johnny stared at Eric, glimpsing the possibility of a world he hadn’t dreamed of, of possibilities now still little more than dreams. He realized as Eric spoke that he wanted what Eric offered. He longed for the grace and release of complete submission at the hands of the man he had come to adore.
“I want that,” Johnny said softly.
“And for now,” Eric answered, “that is enough.”
Chapter 7
“That’s it. I know you can do it.” Eric stood naked, lightly massaging his own cock as he watched his lover’s face. Johnny was wincing, his expression one of embarrassment and chagrin. Johnny too was naked except for a pretty gold chain looped between his nipple rings. He was kneeling on all fours in the center of the playroom, a medium-sized lifelike dildo in his hand, its tip smeared with gooey lubricant.
A part of Eric wanted to tell him he could stop—he’d done enough for today, but he knew that wouldn’t be fair to Johnny. It would send the message he had failed. In the past few weeks they’d talked a lot about what made a truly submissive sex slave. Johnny had expressed a deep desire to learn submissive grace—to be able to give of himself completely without always holding something back. Johnny did still fight his inclinations and Eric’s commands, though to his credit he was trying very hard not to do so.
Eric didn’t know how to teach grace per se. They had talked a lot about what it meant, with Eric offering that submissive grace was really just a letting go—an ability to trust one’s partner so completely one’s own fears and feelings didn’t get in the way of the experience. Yes, trust was at the crux of it and Eric knew one couldn’t command trust.
Johnny was learning to take a whipping beautifully, sometimes flying after just a few stinging kisses of the lash. He withstood cock and ball torture and nipple play with somewhat less grace but he was definitely making progress. Yet Johnny still held himself back when it came to anal sex. Each time they had sex there was resistance, a clenching of his muscles, a withholding of himself. Sometimes Eric was unable to penetrate him, the situation escalating to where Johnny had become so tense the experience was no longer pleasurable for either one of them.
When that happened Johnny became so embarrassed and humiliated it was hard to comfort and reassure him. Eric knew greater ease would come with time. But Johnny, being young, was impatient, in some ways pushing himself further than Eric would have, perhaps because he felt he’d wasted so much time already, not having connected with his own sexuality until this year.
“It’s like I’m sixteen, sexually speaking,” Johnny had laughed ruefully. “Or twelve even, in terms of self-awareness! I’ve only just started to live in a way. To really be myself. I want to catch up. I don’t want to be this twenty-five-year-old newbie, always letting you down and embarrassing you and myself when we go clubbing.”
Eric had tried to reassure him he did no such thing. Just Johnny’s extraordinary good looks would have been enough to sail through the scene, even if he had as much sensitivity as a doorknob and as much grace as a tree stump. But Eric also understood Johnny’s longing. He didn’t want to get by on nothing but his sex appeal, just as Eric himself had tried never to capitalize on his own charisma. He wanted to attain that elusive but very real essence called grace and he wanted Eric to teach him.
Eric had told him, “If you really want to submit with grace, especially in public, it’s essential you be completely comfortable with your own body and with what I might require you to do with that body. If I want you to strip naked in front of a group of strangers, your first thought should not be, ‘I can’t do that! I don’t know these people!’ You should simply take off your clothes and stand or kneel naked as I’ve decreed, your eyes down, waiting for my next order. It’s simple really. You have to come to the point where my asking you to bring me a glass of water, to strip for my friends or to take some stranger’s cock down your throat are all of equal weight in your mind. You obey me precisely and only because I have commanded you. What you think of the request is irrelevant, in terms of a Master/slave relationship. You exist to serve and please me. If you can somehow take that lesson into your psyche, the grace follows as a matter of course.”
Eric couldn’t suppress a small, sympathetic smile as he watched Johnny reaching back, trying to press the large phallus into his puckered little asshole. He could see the tension in Johnny’s body and in his face. Eric moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder. He drew his hand down Johnny’s strong bare back. “Relax, Johnny. That cock is just an extension of me. I know you never want to hold yourself back from me. Show me now what you can do. Show me your grace.”
Johnny took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Using his forehead for balance on the floor, he spread his cheeks with one hand and pressed the gooey tip of the dildo between them. Slowly he moved back against it as Eric had taught him, using the relaxation breathing techniques they had worked on together. Eric had to grin at himself as he realized how tense he himself was, silently willing his slave boy to succeed.
When the phallus was halfway in, Eric knew Johnny would be able to press it fully home. “God, Johnny, you should see yourself. You look so fucking hot right now with that cock up your ass, your head down in utter submission to me.” Eric moved to Johnny’s head, putting his bare feet on either side. “Slave. Who do you belong to?”
Johnny whispered throatily,
“You, Sir.” He turned his head, his soft lips raining little kisses over Eric’s feet until Eric stepped back and touched the top of Johnny’s golden head. “Stand up.”
Johnny first knelt back on his haunches, the dildo now firmly up his ass. His face was shining with that curious combination of serenity, lust and submissive joy Eric had seen on so many slave boys’ faces over the years. It was more intense than simple sexual desire, more profound than yearning or even love. Eric’s heart swelled with such tenderness he had to turn away a moment to compose himself.
Slowly Johnny stood, the gold chain at his broad masculine chest swaying as he rose, his cock bobbing perpendicular to his flat belly. Impulsively Eric knelt before his lover, his tongue swirling over the head of his cock before he moved forward in a single fluid motion. Johnny’s cock completely filled his mouth, its head touching against the back of Eric’s throat as his nose pressed against Johnny’s pubic bone. As he had taught Johnny, Eric stayed completely still for nearly a minute, only his tongue and throat muscles moving with undulating skill, wrenching a cry of pleasure from his lover.
Slowly Eric eased back, taking Johnny’s balls in his hand, curling the fingers over the base of the shaft as he continued to suckle and milk Johnny’s rock-hard cock. After only a few more minutes Johnny, with a rubber cock still lodged in his ass and his own cock deep in his master’s throat, began to shudder and moan, his fingers grasping handfuls of Eric’s hair.
“Please!” he gasped. “Oh Sir! Can I come! Please…” Eric smiled inwardly at this request. Unlike many masters, Eric did not require Johnny to ask permission to orgasm. Yet Johnny, like many subs before him, did sometimes ask—an unconscious desire to give his master that ultimate control. Of course Eric could withhold his slave’s orgasm and sometimes did as a method of training or punishment, but he had never expressly told Johnny to ask for permission when he was ready to climax. Still now he granted it, nodding his head beneath Johnny’s clenched fingers.
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