A FUCKING LIFE

BY SHAKEY PSYCHE

[ part 5 ]

From the Beginning III

Lying there with Randy’s leg on me and with the other three boys in the room was like having my own little family outside of my own. But that night when Mickey told that he had spent the time with Mr. Foster, it allowed me to think about when I first met him…

The car pulled up in the driveway and Dan got out and walked me up to the door. After ringing the bell, we waited. Dan looked at me and smiled to reassure me of my safety. The door opened suddenly with a man standing in the doorway with a robe on.

“Scotty, this is Mr. Foster,” he said to me and we nodded to each other. I think he could tell I was as nervous as humanly possible about meeting him. Dan turned to him to speak. “Carl, Scott’s new at this, so please go easier on him than you do with Mickey.” Mr. Foster nodded to Dan that he understood, and the two parted company. I walked in the house at his welcome.

When the door closed, I turned and saw him take off his robe. I had to struggle not to be more apprehensive than I already was. He was dressed in nothing but leather pants with a flap over the crotch. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, but five leather belts connecting to a metal ring in the center of his chest. Two belts rested on his shoulders, two more circled his chest, and the last one went down to the snap on his pants. No socks or shoes were worn but there was no need for them anyway.

Except for the bare feet, he looked like something I would expect from the middle ages. My nervousness grew. Then, he did something unexpected; he smiled.

“Thirsty?” He asked me. I was shocked, but nodded. We walked to the kitchen where he gave me a small drink of water and we sat down at the bar. He looked me in the eye and started talking while I drank the water.

“Is this your first time doing this?” He asked.

“Well, I just had someone,” I admitted.

“Probably Chester Jackson,” he guessed. I looked at him in shock as he guessed correctly. He smiled again before continuing. “We all tend to run in the same circles, Scott. That way, we can sort of protect ourselves from the police. Now, let me explain this to you as I do all the boys at the beginning.

“This part of the job is technically called Bondage, or BDSM for short. BDSM stands for Bondage, Domination, Sadistic or Sado-, Masochism. Basically, it means that we like to tie up people and torment them for mutual pleasure. Are you with me so far?”

“I think so,” I was a little confused, but was getting a bit more relaxed as he talked. He didn’t seem the ogre I thought he was when I first saw him dressed as he was.

“Now, during your time with me, I am called, ‘Master’ or ‘Sir’. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir,” I answered.

“Good; now, listen up, because I’m only going to say this once. If you will do as directed, then I will ask you back. If you don’t; this will be the only time you are here.”

“Yes, Sir,” I answered again.

For the next half hour, he outlined my tasks while being his slave for him. During this time, he never explained anything more than once, but he didn’t have to; I took in every word. He also told me that he had worked it out with Dan that while he was explaining things to me that no time was lapsing for him, so my time didn’t start until he was finished talking.

“Now, being that this is going to be your first time with me, I will go a little easier on you than I do on Mickey.”

“May I ask a question, Sir?”

“Yes, but after your question, you may not talk unless given permission. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir. Does Mickey really like getting spanked?”

He laughed for a minute before answering. “Yes, he does like it. I was surprised when I was whipping him with the belt for the first time to find him with an erection. I took it to the next level with him that night and he loved every second of it. I was impressed. He’s a natural sub.”

“Sub, Sir?” I said, and then caught my mistake. “Oops. I’m sorry, Sir. I spoke without permission.”

“Well, I’ll excuse this one, Scott, but not another one. As for your question, a sub is short for submissive. It is one who likes being either dominated or punished or both. Mickey will make someone a good wife.”

I laughed at his joke then once again caught myself. I had to remember why I was there. I was there for his pleasure, not mine. He looked at me and smiled.

“Ready to get started?”

“Yes, Master,” I answered him.

“Good. Strip; now, boy,” he ordered. I slid off the barstool and took my clothes off, placing them on the bar. When I was finished, I stood before him stark naked; ready for inspection. He walked around me, looking at everything. He even ran his finger up my crack.

When he was finished with the inspection, he took me by the hand and led me to a door on the side of his staircase. After he opened the door, I saw that there was another set of stairs, but these led downward. When we arrived in the basement, I took in everything I saw in the room.

In the middle of the room was a cross in the shape of an “X” and made out of wood. It was bolted to the floor. At each end of the X were leather cuffs and in the middle was a leather belt. Also in the middle was a hole drilled in it. Being tied up was one thing, but this was something out of a horror movie, and my apprehension returned. Actually, I was getting scared shitless.

There were things hanging from the wall opposite the cross. Paddles, crops, leather straps, and one very thick whip hung from different hooks on the wall. Fear had gripped my very being and the only thing I wanted to do was run out of there as fast as possible.

He left me standing next to the cross and walked over to the table. When he returned, he had a leather blindfold in his hand. He told me to turn around and after obeying, he put the blindfold in its place over my eyes. He then led me to the cross and had me step up on something. I felt him take my right arm first and attach the leather cuff around it. He repeated the process with my left arm. He pulled something and my arms were forced upwards, making me stand on my toes.

Mr. Foster came back around and I felt his hand at my groin. I then learned what the hole in the middle of the cross was for. He pulled my cock and balls through the hole, making sure my middle was not going anywhere. Something was tied to my cock’s head and it was pulled upward; stretched to its limit. I winced at having it forced so tight. Another, what felt like leather, straps were attached to each testicle and they were pulled apart and downward. I now groaned a bit, not being used to this.

He came back around to my backside and buckled the leather belt at the middle of my back. He then took each of my feet and put them on small platforms on the cross, but also tied them to it by way of the leather cuffs. I was tied to this thing and not going anywhere fast. One final thing he did was he put a ball gag in my mouth before he was totally finished. I was panicking inside. How was I supposed to say the code word if my mouth was gagged?

“Well, that ought to do it, boy,” he stated when he finished. “If things get too much for you, simply knock on the cross with your fist and I will stop. Understand?”

I nodded and breathed a little easier. I had a way out. I just hoped he would abide by his own rule. I heard him walk away and return. I heard a whoosh and felt wind blow past me and I kind of got the idea what was going to happen next.

Sure enough, “SMACK!” the paddle landed square across my ass, sending my groin into the hole of the cross even deeper. I whimpered as I felt him pull back and line up for another swing. Another, “SMACK!” and I was once again pushed into the hole of the cross. After the third hit, I could feel my cock begin to harden.

Why the fuck is that happening?

It was Mickey that liked this sort of thing, not me. I always hated getting spanked by my father; not that he did it all that much. I still hated getting the spankings, though. Why was my cock getting hard?

The fourth and fifth strikes rained down on my helpless asscheeks and my cock had now turned into a three inch flagpole. I was actually starting to thrust my hips into the cross with every swing of the paddle. I tried to hide the fact that my lascivious nature was enjoying the paddling, but he noticed after the tenth swat. He had stopped hitting me for some reason and noticed I was grinding my groin into the wood. When I heard his voice it was in front of me.

“Well, well, well, we have another masochist here, don’t we?” He chided. “Well, we’ll just have to keep doing this, won’t we?” And with that, he walked back around behind me again.

As the piece of wood struck my ass for the eleventh time, the pleasure was building to its inevitable peak. I groaned as conflicting feelings were running through my mind. I wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this. Spankings and paddlings were supposed to hurt, not feel good. Oh, my ass was turning to flames, but my cock was rock hard, and I was trying to cum like crazy.

Following the fifteenth strike, my body erupted in the ultimate form of pleasure as my lust reached its zenith. Oh, he continued to paddle me, but it didn’t matter; I had reached orgasm, and that was all that mattered. After the twentieth swat on my derrière, he put the paddle back in its place on the wall.

I felt him walk up behind me again, but this time, he didn’t strike me with anything. He just ran his hands up and down the back part of my body, as if he were worshiping it in some way. He paid special attention to my enflamed asscheeks; I even felt him kiss them a couple of times. The gentleness of the act made me shudder before he stopped. I heard him walk back around to stand in front of me then I heard something being slid up to the cross. The ball gag was removed and he grabbed me by the hair, but the angle was wrong. He wasn’t reaching up for it, but down for my head.

“My turn, boy. Open your mouth,” he said and the voice was coming from above me. I obediently opened my mouth. I heard the snaps on his groin flap open, and for the second time that day, an adult cock was placed inside my ten year old mouth.

What is it about the boy’s mouth thing?

I could tell Mr. Foster was a little longer that Mr. Jackson, but thinner. I was able to swallow his cock with very little difficulty. I didn’t even gag once. I was actually proud of myself about that. He groaned the second the head of his cock passed the back of my mouth and made it down my throat. I closed my lips around his adult tool to allow a suction effect. By his reaction, he seemed to like it.

I felt the leather of his leggings on both facial cheeks as he sank his man-meat down my throat. I heard him gasp as the suction effect helped stimulate his organ when he pulled back out. I was having an adverse effect on him and he knew it. When he drove his cock back down my throat, it was too abrupt and I wasn’t ready for it, so I backed my head up a little. He wouldn’t have any of that. With my hair wrapped up in his fist, he forced my head back towards him and I felt his leggings against my cheeks again.

After that little stutter, I remained where I was as he face-fucked me. Even with the little experience I had so far, I could tell when he was getting close to cumming. It didn’t take long before he was shooting a wad of cum down my throat. I choked on some of the slippery fluid as I wasn’t expecting it to shoot out like it did, but I did manage to recompose myself and finish swallowing the rest of it.

“Very good, boy; very good,” he praised. “You’re one damn good cocksucker. You know that?”

I smiled at his commendation and thanked him, remembering to call him “Master”. He tousled my hair then climbed back down the steps he had brought over. I then wondered what he was going to do next; I didn’t have long to wait.

He removed my blindfold, but kept he pinned up to the cross. I noticed that his erection had not gone down.

“Master, may I ask a question?”

“Yes, boy,” he answered.

“Why is your thing still hard?”

“It’s called a ‘cock’, boy, not a ‘thing’. To answer your question, it is because there is an herb I get from the orient that allows me to remain hard for hours. It will stay hard even after I cum. I find it best if I don’t take the time to recover after each and every time I blow my load.” I nodded. “Any other questions?”

“No, Master,” I replied.

“Good. Now it’s back to business.”

He walked behind me and I felt him attach something to my right asscheek. It felt like a piece of tape of some sort. Then I felt him move my chest back and he attached some kind of clip to my left nipple. I gritted my teeth at having something attached to a sensitive area. Another clip was placed on my other nipple as well. This one didn’t surprise me as much as I had a feeling what he was about to do, but it did hurt just as well.

He left me hanging for a few seconds before he came back. I heard a click then felt electricity shoot through my body starting at the points where he had attached something. The effect hurt but had a different reaction on my cock; it started to grow again.

Why the fuck was this thing doing this?

Mr. Foster regulated the amount of electrical current going through my body, making it surge with power, or tingle with only a touch. Either way, my cock was obeying its own desires. For some reason, I was starting to really enjoy the pain coming from what was happening. But, I was here not for my pleasure and enjoyment, but Mr. Foster’s. He did seem to enjoy himself, though, even as I did.

The electricity was used for what seemed like for over a half an hour, but was probably only ten minutes. Time seems to stand still when you’re tied up and blindfolded. When he stopped the electric shock treatment, I heard him walk back around to my front again and I knew he saw my erection.

“So, you really do like the pain as much as the pig. Well…that’s good to know,” he said, almost under his breath. Turning back to me, he said louder, “You may finish, if you wish, boy.”

I pushed my pelvis into the leather covered wood hole, and pulled back out. I humped the cross as hard as possible, trying with all my might to reach orgasm. It seemed to take forever this time. Mr. Foster noticed that as much as I tried, I couldn’t cum. I heard him walk away from me and return in mere moments.

Before I knew it, the paddle landed against my asscheeks one more time, driving my pelvis into the cross’s middle. “SMACK!” another one landed, and then another, then another, until my whole body tensed and a very powerful orgasm was breached.

I collapsed, spent, hanging from my bonds connected to the cross. I felt like I had just run a marathon, twice. My body felt like it was drenched in sweat. The room seemed to spin out of control as my mind reeled in confusion. At the time, that was the most powerful climax I had felt. I never forgot that feeling. I’ve had more powerful climaxes since (more on that later), but that was the first one that really sent me into orbit.

“About time, boy; I was wondering if you’d ever finish. Of course, now it’s time for you to return the favor again,” he said, and the glee was very evident in his voice.

I was expecting another round with him down my throat, but he didn’t want that again. This time he walked up right behind me and I felt his erection between my buttcheeks. This time was for real. I closed my eyes and let him do what he wanted; not that I had much choice in the matter.

With infinite patience he rubbed the head of his dick up and down my crack, as Mr. Jackson had done, to get some pre-cum lubrication. I knew how big he was and I knew I could handle him, as he was thinner than Mr. Jackson. When he had enough lubricant lining my asscheeks, he pushed forward and for the second time inside of two hours, and adult cock was sliding into me.

I groaned at the intrusion, of course, but the feeling wasn’t too unpleasant. He was larger than Rudy, but still, I didn’t hate it. When had buried himself inside me to the hilt, he stood still for a moment. I think he thought I needed the respite, but it didn’t last long. Within mere seconds, he pulled back out till the head of his cock was just barely inside, and then rammed it back inside.

The suddenness of the assault made me hiss in my breath. Before anything could register in my preteen mind, he pulled back out again. The fucking had begun, and he was using his full body to do it. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back as far as it would go, and then laid a full mouth kiss on my lips. That move surprised me even more than the initial fuck. I felt his tongue force its way inside my mouth and touch my tonsil.

When he parted from the kiss, I actually felt emptied, at least in my mouth. My tail was getting its opening quite filled. He made two or three more savage thrusts until I heard his guttural voice grunt through another climax. The next second I felt his body tense and sperm shoot into my bowels.

He had now spent himself twice, and surely I thought the evening with him was over, but once again, I was wrong. He pulled his still rock-hard dick out of my backside, leaving me feeling really empty now. I also had a really weird feeling that I needed to take a shit, but that feeling faded after a few minutes.

The electrical nodes were detached from my nipples and buttcheek. He reapplied the blindfold over my eyes. He unclipped the cuffs holding my wrists and ankles to the cross, but didn’t release the cuffs from my limbs. My cock and balls were released from their respective prisons, also. He led me off the foot shelves of the cross and guided me to the center of the room.

He walked away to my right, and then I heard something lower from overhead and stop just above me. He returned to stand directly in front of me. The next move was to take the cuffs attached to my wrists and clip them to the bar that was suspended above me. Another bar was laid at my feet to have the cuffs on my ankles clipped to it. I felt a line being drawn up my body and secured to the bar above. He moved off again, and I heard him pull then felt my legs swing upward to meet with the upper bar. The wire (I later found out) was threaded thru a metal loop in the upper bar and clipped to looped wire above it. When the rope was pulled, my legs came out from under me, and I was suspended in air, hanging by my wrists and ankles and those being spread wide open.

My head was forced to fall backwards by the sheer weight of it. I didn’t know it, but he also had lowered me down to just about three feet off the ground. It was perfect fucking height, wouldn’t ya know. I heard him walk back over to me, and that was when I realized the height my head and tail were placed at. He thumped my forehead with his cock! I think it was to get my attention.

I felt another shock as something was touching my asshole. Then the thing invaded my rear orifice in one smooth stroke. It felt rubbery against my skin. The rubber invader didn’t move once it was inside me. I tried to expel it, but I couldn’t push it out. Another shock was what I did next, though.

Taking a chance, I stuck my tongue out to touch his cockhead. He took the invitation, and put his crotch right over my face. His fuzzy balls hung down to rest on both sides of my nose as I licked the length of his long fuckstick.

“Open,” was all he said. I did. With the position I was in, it allowed his cock to slip down my throat without any resistance. I now had two things shoved inside me for the first time. I then felt him reach up and grab my arms as he walked forward to get further inside my gullet. He held onto my elbows as he pulled his cock back out again. Experience had taught me that that wasn’t enough for him. Sure enough, he pushed it back down my throat. Within a few seconds, he built up a steady rhythm of fucking my throat once again.

It was right then that I first taught myself how to escape into my mind. I had had enough sex for the evening, but he wasn’t finished. That was fine with me, he was the client after all, but I needed to be elsewhere, that is to amuse myself. Being blindfolded, he was never going to know the difference (and he didn’t that time).

I mildly remember him pulling his cock all the way out of my mouth and walking around behind me. The rubber invader was pulled out with a “pop” sound. And knowing what was coming next; I just slipped back into my make-believe world and let him do as he pleased. I had a vague feeling that he entered me again and took to pumping my asshole. I just hung there, making believe I was somewhere else.

When I felt him grasp my knees real hard and shove even harder, I came out of my “happy place” to join him in the room as he pumped his semen into me for a third time. As he slipped out of me a few minutes later, I felt his dick droop downward instead of remain firm.

“Well, boy, you’ve done well for your first time here,” he said. “As I see the clock on the wall, you’ve still got about another half an hour with me. You’re gonna stay like this for the next twenty minutes of that time; to reflect.”

“Yes, Master,” I answered. The rubber invader was shoved back inside and he walked out of the basement. I tried to expel the invader once again, but it was still useless; whatever it was, was stuck inside until he came back for me.

Reflect on what?

Oh, well, at least he was leaving me alone for a while. Being tied up and hung upside down, sort of, was not my idea of a position of reflection, but it would do. I let my head fall back down as I just hung there, thinking.

I began swinging myself back and forth as some sort of amusement to pass the time. After some time had passed, I heard him approach the door and walk in. I stopped my swinging and just hung there, waiting for him to uncuff me.

With another soft “pop”, my rubber lover was removed and he released my ankles from the cuffs. My wrists were next, and I was free from my bonds. He took off the blindfold, and I saw him standing before me totally naked, smoking a cigarette. He smiled down at me as I stood there getting my eyes readjusted to the light. I smiled back up at him when I could see again.

“Well, how was it, Scott?”

“Fun, Sir, thank you,” I answered.

“Good. I hope that I will see you again, then.”

“Oh, yes, Sir, you will,” I countered with a smile.

“Good. You have about ten minutes to get cleaned up and dressed before Dan gets here, so you’d better hurry.”

I turned and ran up the stairs to the bathroom where I cleaned out my bowels and wiped my sphincter clean. I went to the bar to get dressed and the doorbell rang, but it wasn’t a doorbell sound. It also kept ringing after the door had opened.

I opened my eyes to see that I was back in Randy’s bed with the sunlight screaming through the blinds. The alarm had woken the four of us up for the day’s adventures.