Jack Rowan

The Story of Tim

Chapters 17-34

Chapter 17. Decision

"Right! How about this lunch, then?"

"Okay, I'm starving. We didn't have any breakfast, remember?"

I'd completely forgotten.

"Nor we did. Jesus, what a morning!"

Tim laughed. He knew better than to needle me. I was impressed.

"Who was she?"

"That was Chris. She's a clinical psychologist, like she said. Also she's a very good friend. Also, she's very well known in, in what I do."

"In tying people up and hurting them, you mean?"

"She's a Dominatrix. Most of the people she does it with are men. And we usually call it sm. That's sado-masochism."

"sm? Okay. She's – very impressive looking. Frightening, almost."

I laughed. "She has that effect. You called her 'ma'am'."

"Was that wrong? I don't know, it seemed the right thing to do."

"Yes, it was. Look, let's take our coffee out onto the patio."

The midday sun shone down on the little paved area, where we sat under our awnings. Far away I could hear a combine starting the harvest.

"Look!" said Tim. "There are ducks on the pond!"

"So there are. They come and go. It's nice to give them a stopover."

"I love it here."

We sat quietly for a while. Things were going on in my mind.

"Tim, I'm going to take a little walk. I need to think out what to do next."

Tim heaved a sigh and smiled at me. It wasn't a taunt. He had sniffed the wind changing.

"In the meantime, you didn't have a shower this morning, did you? Have one now, a good one, and then come back here. Wear your swimsuit. And don't hurry."

"Okay."

His eyes were wide. I ruffled his hair and smiled at him. He smiled back.

I walked out across the meadow. With those few instructions I had taken the plunge. I knew it, and Tim knew it. Now I was in another world, a world I knew well. Now it was a case of planning a scene for him.

It mustn't be too much, that was obvious. I didn't know enough about him. I didn't know anything about his limits, and discussing them at this stage wouldn't work. But it couldn't be too little, either. It had to be enough to work as a rite of passage, as something he would remember. He had to feel that he had moved from one place to another. Because this wasn't to be the end of it, unless something went really wrong. I was already thinking of the next scene, and the next. Of how I should lay out his development over the next weeks.

There were many plans to be made. We would need some new things. We would need to make trips. There were people to be visited as well.

I reviewed what I knew about him, his hot spots, his vulnerabilities. And gradually what we would do together began to take shape. And after the struggles of the last couple of days, I felt the strength that I needed grow, and an immense joy that I had come to this.

This was going to be a crowning glory, my masterpiece.

I paused at the edge of the wood, at the spot where I speak to the kindly powers, when I need to. I brought Accidental Blessings to mind, and gave thanks.

Perhaps half an hour had passed. I could see that Tim was waiting for me. Good. Let the apprehension grow.

I walked slowly back, knowing he was watching every step. There he was, his fair hair brushed out as usual, his arms resting lightly on the tabletop. Waiting.

I sat down opposite him.

"Tim," I said. "If you like, I'll take you on a journey."

He smiled.

"Where to?"

"We don't know yet. We'll have to find out gradually. It could be a long journey, I don't know. It depends on you. Because you can stop the train and get off at any point. Whenever you want. I will never, ever, take you a step more then you want."

"I understand. I believe you."

"There will be pain. Do you understand? There will be restraint, being tied up. There will also be sex."

"Oh, David, oh wow."

"You're frightened?"

"Yeah. Yes, I am, a bit."

"That's okay, but remember: I will never permanently injure or damage you. And we will always stop if you really can't go on. If ever you want us to stop, you just say the word. And the word is 'symphony'. Say it."

"Symphony".

He realised that we were doing something important. His face was very serious. We could still hear the bees, and the thrumming of the distant combine.

"Again."

"Symphony."

"That is your safeword. If ever you say it, we will stop. And then we will have to think very hard what to do next. Because sometimes the way will be hard. Sometimes you will be pushed very hard, harder than you think you can bear. The safeword is your way out, and I will always respect it. But don't use it unless something is very, very wrong. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"But sometimes you won't want us to stop. Sometimes you will just want me to hold back, to go slower, to pause for a while. Or you'll just want me to know that it is very hard. So there is another word. That word is 'daffodil'. Say it."

"Daffodil".

"Again."

"Daffodil."

"That is your slowword. You have your safeword, and your slowword. Apart from those two words, I will use my judgment. You can tell me to stop, you can even scream 3;"

"Oh wow 3;"

"Yes, because that will happen. But unless you use one of your words, I will go as fast as I want, and stop when I want. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand all that."

"Now. Do you want to start on our journey?"

"Yes. Yes, I do, very much."

There were tears in his eyes. As I watched, one ran down his cheek. He was so beautiful I could hardly bear to look at him. I stood up and held out a hand.

"Then come on."

He took my hand and stood up.

"But first – we always start with a kiss. Because I love you, Tim, never forget that. I don't think I have ever loved anyone as much."

I bent and touched my lips to his. Instantly he opened his mouth and devoured me, his tongue thrusting forward, his arms grabbing my head. I opened to him and he moaned, writhing in my arms.

"I thought this would never happen," he whispered. "I'm so happy."

Chapter 18. The Start of a Journey

"Since you've so interested in this, we will use it to start with. It's called the Chair. But first – stand over here."

"Okay."

"You will call me 'sir'. When I give you an instruction, you will say 'Yes, sir,' and then do it. You will never argue, or hesitate. If you wish to tell me something, you will say 'Permission to speak, sir'." Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's good, Tim. Stand over here, then."

"Yes, sir."

I positioned where he couldn't see the Chair, and faced him.

"Now clasp your hands behind you head. Elbows a bit further back. That's good. Now put your feet further apart. A bit further. Now, tuck your bum in a bit, so your dick is pushed forward. That's it. Put your head up. Always try to keep your head up, unless I say. You are proud, okay? Proud of your body. You're cute, remember?"

"Yes, sir." He smiled, and I smiled back.

"That position is called 'present'. When I say 'present', you will say 'Yes, sir,' and get into that position. Present!"

"Yes, sir."

I moved closer to him.

"That's good. Now. Don't move."

"No, sir."

I ran my hands down his body. His breath came short and quick, but he held is position. I gently rubbed his nipples, and he gasped. Then I pinched, and little cry came from him.

"Don't move. Look into my eyes."

I pinched harder and harder. His eyes stretched wider and wider. I could see tears in them. But he didn't move. I looked down, and I could see that he has still hard. My god, I thought, this is going to work. It's going to work. I held tight for maybe ten seconds, staring into his eyes. Then I slackened a little.

"I'm hurting you."

"Yes, sir," he whispered.

"You have not resisted. You have submitted of your own free will to pain at my hands. You are one of us, now. You will never be quite the same again."

I saw a tear slip from his eye.

"Now say this: My body is yours; do what you want with me."

"My body is yours; do what you want with me."

"Now say it five times. And each time you say it, mean it. Each time you say it, mean it a little more. Don't move."

I held him with my eyes as he repeated the sentence, tears streaming from his eyes. Lord, I thought, this is corny, but he's taking it. And so was I. By the end I could feel my tears beginning to rise as well.

Then I pinched, hard. A cry, almost a scream, came from the boy, but he didn't move. I stopped pinching and slid a hand down, lower, lower. It brushed over his swimsuit and cupped his dick and balls. He was as hard as steel. I squeezed very gently, trying to give him pleasure. After pain, pleasure. A guttural moan came from him.

"Keep looking in my eyes. Does this feel good?"

"Oh god, yes sir."

"Say this: My sex is yours; do what you want with me."

He gulped and said it.

"Now say it five times. And each time you say it, mean it a little more. Don't move."

And once again I held him with my eyes. He was finding it difficult to speak for the sobs, now. When he finished, I grasped him in my arms.

"You've done well, Tim, really really well. I'm proud."

He melted into me. I licked his cheeks, and wiped his eyes with my handkerchief. His tears tasted both salt and sweet, the most delicious taste I could imagine. Then I stepped back.

"Present!"

"Yes, sir."

He snapped into position. I smiled at him.

"Head up. Be proud. Wait here. Don't move."

Chapter 19. Again, the Chair

Some people only bind lightly for a beginner's scene. I don't. Being tied, being helpless is the thing they've fantasised about the most, and if it's properly supervised, it's the easiest thing to cope with. So they're least likely to be disappointed. Not that Tim would be disappointed even if we stopped now.

But I wouldn't stop. I was going to sear him this time. After this, it would all be different, just as I'd said.

"Come over here, Tim."

"Yes, sir."

"Up on the Chair, and spread out your arms and legs."

He gave a kind of groan, and obeyed. I put his arms and legs into the rests, and one by one I strapped them in. I pulled the strap across his chest, under the arms. Then I slipped the waist strap across him – it was three inches [7½ cm] wide. I braced my foot against the side to pull it tight, just as I do with a full-grown man. It doesn't make it much tighter, but it certainly has an effect.

I missed the neck strap for this time.

"Now, Tim, you are in restraint. Are you okay?"

"Oh, god, yes, sir."

I caressed his dick gently, then ran my hand over his body. He sighed, like someone settling into bed at the end of a long day. He smiled at me. I smiled back.

"Okay. Don't go away, now."

I left him. For half an hour I drank a cup of coffee, sat outisde briefly in the sun, logged onto my computer. But I kept listening, and glancing. I could see him moving his feet, his fingers, his head. That was as much as he could do. At one point I thought I saw him struggle briefly, and he gave a muffled cry. I checked but he seemed okay.

I wanted him to get the feel of being tied up, of what it really meant when you really couldn't undo yourself.

It was strange, doing a scene in broad, golden sunlight. Strange, but good. Somehow it suited him.

Finally I came back to him. I could see he was still hard.

"Okay, Tim?"

"Yes, sir. Permission to speak, sir."

"Yes, Tim."

"Would you please scratch my nose, sir. It's distracting."

I did it.

"Thank you, sir."

"That was a good thing to ask for, Tim. You did right."

"Thank you, sir."

"And now 3; I could whip you. Or, then again, I could fuck you. Or perhaps I could leave you tied up for the rest of the day, and the night. Or lots of things. All of those things. Anything. But I won't. What I will do will be: this."

I had got the bunch of feathers from the bedroom cupboard, where my toys were stacked. Now I drew them up his side from his swimsuit to his armpit.

The effect was immediate: he literally screamed. It wasn't even laughter, it was a helpless scream from the guts. I was impressed.

"Oh god, sir, please don't, please, I'm begging you, not that!"

I drew up a chair.

"Yes, definitely that. Definitely."

I did it again, four or five times, slowly. It took about half a minute. He screamed and screamed, and by the end I thought he was almost about to pass out.

He was weeping again, this time from the agony. I waited a short while, and then did it again.

This time he turned his head from me and shut his eyes. He was hating me a little. It's what I wanted.

"Tim!"

Silence.

"Tim! Open your eyes, and look at me." My voice was not loud, but it was firm.

He obeyed. Internally I sang hallelujahs.

"Well done, Tim. That was good. Now I'm going to do it again, and I want you to look at me all the time."

"Y-yes, sir."

I held him with my eyes as I did it. Four, five times. He screamed, tears came, but he didn't look away. I leant down, and kissed him, and he responded frantically. I almost came at that moment.

"Thank you, Tim. You're very brave. But now 3; Now we have the Proceedings of the Inquisition."

Chapter 20. The Storm

"Y-yes, sir. I'll answer. Only, please, don't 3;"

"Just answer, okay? How old are you, Tim?"

"Fourteen, sir. Fifteen in three months."

"How many sisters and brothers have you?"

"None, sir. As far as I know. Maybe my original father has other children by now, but I wouldn't know."

And all the time the sun lay in golden bars across him, across me.

"Okay, Tim. Tell me, Tim, do you wank?"

He paused. Immediately I was there with the feathers, one, two strokes. His screams came just as before, and then his answer came in a shriek.

"Yes!! Yes I do!" It was beautiful. He was beautiful. I wanted to cry.

"Just answer, Tim. Just answer. Now. When you wank, who do you think of? Girls and women, or boys and men?"

This time it took four strokes before he answered.

"Boys! Boys and men! Oh, please, please, stop it, sir!"

"Just answer, Tim, and it won't happen. And when you're walking along the street, or sitting in school, who is it you fancy? Who catches your eye? Girls and women, or boys and men?"

Another four strokes before he forced himself to reply. I noticed he was no longer hard.

"It's boys and men! Always boys and men! You bastard, stop doing this, I hate you, I hate you!!"

"Keep looking in my eyes, Tim. Tim! Look in my eyes! Now!!"

This time I was shouting, and with a look of horror he obeyed.

"Again! Tim, when you wank, you think about boys and men. When you have fantasies, it's about boys and men. That's true, isn't it?"

"Yes! Yes, fuck you! Yes!"

"Tim, are you gay?"

The strokes started again, five, six, seven. I stopped because I was afraid he would pass out on me.

"You fucking bastard pig!! Just stop, just stop!"

"Again! Tim, are you gay?"

And again I had to stop. And again I asked. He was twisting and straining now, his fingers grasping hopelessly, his mouth drooling. And finally he broke.

"Yes! Yes! Okay, you bastard, it's true! Yes, I'm gay!"

"Say it again!"

"I'm gay!"

"Again."

"I'm gay, you sodding fucking bastard, I'm gay!"

I stroked his head, and he tossed furiously. I laughed gently, and he started to weep tears of helpless fury. He hated me now, really hated me.

I stood and folded the legs of the Chair together, and slowly began to work his swimsuit down. He almost growled his fury at me.

"Now, let's just see what this shy boy has been hiding," I said, tauntingly. And all the while I was pleading inside myself, Don't safeword, Tim, please don't safeword, or we're truly in the shit. It may have been a small scene, but heaven above, I had rarely worked as dangerously as this.

And there it was, soft but sticky with precum, uncut, utterly delicious.

As I unfastened his legs, he kicked ferociously. I grasped both with one arm and worked the swimsuit off. Then, one by one, I fastened them back, with him screaming his defiance all the time. I moved the leg stirrups wide apart, and up, and he was completely open to me. I could see him right back to his arsehole, clean, fine, clothed in fair hair.

I reached out to touch his nipples and he screamed at me. I licked them, I gently chewed them, I ran my hands over his lovely stomach. And gradually his dick responded. No-one had ever done this to him before, and he couldn't resist. His screams alternated with gasps.

And then I took his dick in my mouth, slid it right to the root in one movement. The sweet, sweet taste of him was on my tongue. He was hard in an instant, and his screams died. I could see his head tossing, his face contorted with his churning feelings.

I played him. Brought him to the edge, let him down again and again. I caressed, sucked, swallowed him. Little cries of pleasure came from him, he thrashed, his hands curled and uncurled, his mouth dribbled. And then finally:

"Oh god, sir, let me come! Please, please let me come! Please!"

And then he came. Tumultuously, endlessly. I swallowed and swallowed, and still the unbelievable fresh taste of his seed was in my mouth.

I snapped the quick releases, and Tim tumbled into my arms, kissing and hugging like a maddened dervish.

Chapter 21. Quiet Times

Finally he quietened. I carried on hugging him, and finally he relaxed in my arms, and I could lie him down.

"Go to sleep now, Tim. Go to sleep."

I covered him with his duvet, and stroked his hair. In a moment he was asleep.

It was nearly two hours before I heard him stir. I peeped into the room. He didn't see me. He was lying on his back staring at the ceiling, a slight smile on his face.

I made some tea, and a bit later he appeared, wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, his hair towsled. His eyes were half-closed and sensuous, and his smile creamy. The morning-after look.

He hugged me round the waist, and leant back, looking at me; and then we kissed, gently.

"My god!" he whispered. "Well, you warned me, sir."

"Not sir. The scene's over. Just David."

He stared at me.

"I hated you," he said. "I really, really hated you then. And then you 3; Oh, Christ! That was amazing. Oh, Christ!"

"You were the amazing one. That was the most powerful scene I've done for long time."

"You were right, though. I don't think I will ever be the same again. You really did something to me. I feel turned inside out."

"Yes. I was cruel. I told you I would be, and I was."

I handed him a cup of tea, and led him out onto the patio. The shadows were lengthening as the sun lowered. Columns of midges were dancing. The coffee cups we had used before were still on the table.

"I never dreamt, you know? I never dreamt it could be like that. That – that you could turn a person round and round, love and hate and love, like that."

"Well, I'm good at what I do. I don't mind telling you, because it's true. And you're worth the best."

"'My body is yours; do want you want with me,'" he recited, dreamily. He was looking across the meadow. I felt faint.

"You remember that?"

"Of course I do. I'll never, ever forget it. Never, ever, ever." He paused. "I could never have got through the rest without that. I'd have said it, said the word. But even when I hated you, I couldn't – I couldn't go back on it."

"Oh, Tim."

I didn't know what to say.

"I love you," he whispered.

"Listen, Tim. I've been around for a while. I've lived with two guys. I've been with lots and lots. I've done far more scenes than I can remember. But before god, I've never loved anyone as much as I love you."

He smiled at me.

"So, how does it feel to be a child abuser?"

"It feels great. The best."

"When do we do it again?"

I laughed out loud, with relief and happiness.

"You still want to go on? Really?"

"Need you ask? Of course."

"Then, when I decide. Not before. Not after. Which reminds me – I must ring Chris. And you – stay out here."

Chapter 22. Consultations

"No, ma'am. We've done it."

"What, already? Wow. Give me ALL the details."

I described the scene to her, step by step.

"Jesus, David! You did that, to him? For fuck's sake! Is he okay?

"Actually, he's fine. He slept for a couple of hours, and now he wants to know when we'll do it again. He's strong, Chris. And brave. I was astonished."

"I would never have done anything like that. I was just expecting you to do a little touch of spanky-wanky, you know, just to warm him up. Instead of which – you push him over the edge!"

"All or nothing."

"I must come and watch you work one day. You say he was brave. Well, so are you, brave and ruthless, quite ruthless. What if he'd safeworded? It'd've been a disaster."

"He said he would have safeworded, except for that stuff I had him recite."

"Yes. I hope you realise that stuff like that has an effect on you as well."

"It did. It has. Chris, this is the big one. THE biggest thing I've ever done."

"I hear it."

"Heh. He just asked me how it felt to be a child abuser."

"He's smart, that one. So, what next?"

I told her. Her suggestions were keen and perceptive, and I thanked her.

"Tell me later what happens. This is wonderful, David." Her voice changed. "The Lady keep you. The Lady protect you. The Lady bless your intentions, and receive you at the last."

I knew just enough to say along with her, "So mote it be." I don't really go with all her pagan stuff. A walk in the moonlight's enough for me. The kindly powers can find me when they need.

She rang off.

Somehow, time had passed, and the sun had set. Out on the meadow it was growing dark.

"Come and help me make supper."

I was tired. We got something out of the freezer, added some oven chips. Comfort food. We ate, not saying much. We had become friends, as well as lovers.

"Tim, I'm going for a walk. I need to think about things. Why don't you play or something?"

He smiled. "Okay."

Outside the nightingale was singing again, and I let the cataract of notes drench me. I am so lucky, I thought. I strode out across the meadow, thinking about what we would need for the next steps. People to contact, favours to call in. Of course, we still needed great care, great privacy; his youth wasn't something that could be forgotten.

The dungeon, too. That needed to be finally tidied up. We would need that.

Then there was him. He was still holding things back from me, I knew it. They would have to be confronted. I didn't know what was hiding in there, but it felt big, and very painful. I had the tools to dig it out, but it would take battles. What had Chris said? Ruthless. I wasn't afraid. But I would need every skill.

And there was me. I also had to be looked after. I smiled to myself, and started to walk back.

Chapter 23. An Episode

"Yup. So I have."

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, intent on his game. He looked very, very young, and for a moment I doubted. Then I thought of the afternoon, and the golden sunlight falling on his face, and smiled.

I went into my bedroom to make a couple of phone calls. Then I took a book from the bookcase, and sat in the sofa to read. For a while he played and I read. It was a pleasant and home-like time.

"Tim," I said, when I thought the moment had come.

Something in my voice made him answer, "Yes, sir."

"Turn off the machine."

"Yes, sir." He obeyed, and looked over his shoulder with a smile.

"Present."

"Yes, sir." He stood and took up the position, his eyes wide with excitement.

"Take off all your clothes. Fold them neatly and put them on that chair."

I wanted to give him time to make the change, for his excitement to rise. He did it with his usual grace, and stood naked before me, his five inches [13 cm] already hard. He was still smiling.

I loved the way that we could still smile in a scene, still be friends. It was new to me. Somehow the snarling orders and grimaces of the hard master were out of place.

"You remember your safeword?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now come and kneel between my legs."

He obeyed.

"Open my trousers. Get my dick out."

Suddenly he was solemn. His hands, as he reached to obey, were shaking. I tilted his chin towards my face.

"Are you okay with this, Tim?"

"Yes, sir. Very, very okay."

"Go ahead, then."

He fumbled with my trousers, unused to the angle. Then his small fingers were trying to get to me. I wasn't wearing anything underneath, but still it was difficult for him. I helped.

My dick stood out. Nine inches [23 cm]. Thick. Very hard.

I paused. This was a moment of danger, but, I thought, only a small one.

"Lick it."

"Oh wow. Oh wow 3;"

"Don't speak. Obey."

"Y-yes, sir."

He leaned forward and I felt the delicate cat-like touch of his tongue.

"Lick it some more. Lick it a lot. Get it wet. Make me feel good, Tim."

His eyes as he moved to obey looked strange, unfocussed. He was still as hard as ever.

It was so delicate, so gentle. Tiny, tiny movements, gliding finely over me. I groaned.

"Keep going, Tim."

Soon I stopped him, and again tilted his head.

"Okay?"

"Oh yes, yes, sir."

"Now, put it in your mouth. Don't let me feel your teeth."

For the first time I felt the velvet warmth of his mouth. It was so small, and I was so big.

"Let it go to the back of your mouth. Go down on it."

I slid over his tongue like butter. He gagged, and withdrew a little.

"Don't worry, that happens to start with. Don't bother with it now. Just – slide up and down."

He obeyed. The feeling was beyond anything. I watched his head moving up and down. I entangled my fingers in his hair. This couldn't go on too long, I didn't want him to get tired or to ache. Not this time.

Perhaps four inches [10 cm] of my dick went into his mouth. I shall train him to take all of me, I thought. This is unbelievable.

"You're doing well, Tim, so well. You feel so very, very good."

It was like being caressed by rose petals, by dancing snowflakes. I was getting so near, so near 3;

"Now I'm going to come in your mouth, Tim. I'm going to shoot in your mouth, just like you did in mine. Swallow it all, Tim, swallow it! I'm going to come in your beautiful, beautiful mouth 3;"

And then, with a yell, I came. I gripped his head and I shot and shot and shot. I thought my insides would come out through my dick, I thought I would faint, I thought the world would end, and he was still working me, and I could feel him swallowing, and then gradually, gradually it was over.

I pulled him over me and kissed him. His naked body was lying on mine, and I could taste my come in his mouth.

"That was so, so good, Tim. So good."

"Thank you, sir."

His eyes were close to my face, green, smiling. I hugged him ferociously, and he groaned, and then laughed.

"Now lie on the floor, face up."

"Yes, sir."

"And now beat off for me."

One hand went to his dick, and he obeyed. It didn't take long. Soon he was making little cries in time with his hand, his back arched, and he shot again, almost screaming. I watched his face in the contortions of his ecstasy, a wild and different beauty. Then he lay, his eyes closed. Come was splattered over his body, even his face.

"Come and stand between my legs."

"Yes, sir," he whispered.

I licked him all over, licking every scrap and smear. I licked his face, his eyes. Gently I took his dick in my mouth and licked it clean, as he groaned from the sensitivity. I licked my boy and loved him. He looked at me, his eyes dreamy.

"That's it."

I grabbed him and pulled him onto the sofa beside me.

"Let's go to bed. And tonight, you sleep with me."

He looked up at me and smiled.

Chapter 24. A Shower

"Wash my feet," I said.

He knelt, and I watched the water beating on the curve of his back as he did it. Then it was my legs, my thighs. Then my chest and my face. He was hard again, smiling at me.

"Now wash my dick and balls. Gently."

I felt his small hands, slick with soap, move over me. He looked at me carefully, the water soaking his hair.

"It's 3; so big."

"Yes, I'm quite big."

"Am I too small?"

"You're quite young. You'll get bigger. Actually, I like the size you are now. I'm not really a fan of megadicks."

He giggled.

"Don't your other men have bigger dicks?"

"I've haven't got any other men."

"But you said 3;"

"Nowadays all I have is one boy. But he's enough."

He hugged me almost frantically.

"Anyhow, several of the men I've been with had smaller dicks that you. There's no such thing as too small."

I took the soap.

"Now it's your turn."

I knelt and started to wash him. I could feel his hands on my shoulders. It was a long, long time since I had knelt in front of a man, but it felt right with him.

I washed his legs and his front. Then at the same time I started gently to wash his dick and balls and the crack of his arse. He groaned.

I wiped my finger over his hole and he yelled.

"My god! That's incredible! What did you do?"

I did it again, thoroughly, and had to hold him as his knees buckled. Then I was gently wanking him as I stroked his hole, and he started to moan. Very, very gently I pressed on him, and the tip of my finger entered him. I could feel his slender muscle pressing on my knuckle and throbbing rhythmically. Then he shrieked and came.

I held him as he shot all over himself, all over my legs. The water swept it away. There was water pouring all over his face, over his shoulders and down his body. He hugged me.

"Can I wash you – there?"

"If you're okay with it."

"You needn't ask me that. I'm okay with everything. You couldn't do anything to me that isn't okay."

"I could think of a few things," I said, drily.

He was soaping his hands.

"If they weren't okay, you wouldn't do them."

I reeled inwardly at the strength of his trust. And his hands were runing down my crack, and I felt his fingers on my hole. It was my turn to moan.

He smiled. I felt one of his fingers press. He entered me. His face was serious, intent.

"Oh, TIM!" I yelled, and came, amazed.

He puddled his hands in the come on his chest.

"That was easy."

"Oh, god, Tim, oh god 3;" I hugged him, and for a moment we were silent.

"Come on," I said. "Let's go to bed."

Chapter 25. A Night Together

"Are – are you going to, to fuck me?"

"Not now, no."

"But sometime?"

"Is that okay?"

"Really, I don't want to be asked if things are okay. I'd, I'd rather you decided. If you just did them."

"But just at the moment I don't know what you can deal with. Everyone has things they can deal with and things they can't. And I have to know. I can't just ignore your feelings. That really would be abusing you."

"There's nothing I couldn't deal with if you made me. If there's something I can't deal with, why don't you just make me?"

"I can't. You have your safeword. If I made you use it, that would mean I'd made a mistake. We'll always be on an edge, trying to take you as far as we can, without you safewording."

He moved restlessly.

"I'd almost rather I didn't have a safeword. So that you could do what you like."

"What I like is not to take you too far. If you trust me, Tim, go with me in this."

There was a pause.

"Of course I will, if that's your decision. You're the boss."

"Master. We say Master. I'm your Master."

"Yes. You're my Master." His voice seemed to chant in a sleepy kind of way. "Master David is my Master 3;"

"Lots of people have said that. But you're the best. I'll tell you something."

"What?"

"This evening. You know why we did that?"

"Why?"

"Just because I wanted this pretty boy to suck my dick, so I could get off. That's why. That's the only reason why. Not for you. For me."

He paused again.

"Wow. I love that. Why does that make me feel so sexy?"

"Because that's the way it works for you. You want to be done to. You want to be made. That's the way you are. Lying here all cuddly and warm, that's what you think of, and so you think of being done to more and more, and harder and harder. You can't see any edges or limits. But I'm your Master. Your job is to serve, to make me feel good if I want it. But my job is to look after you, Tim, and to protect you, even from yourself."

"Mm."

"I'll tell you what, though."

"What?"

"One of these days, I WILL fuck you. It'll go right in you. Right up to the hilt. It'll hurt like hell. And you'll love it."

He giggled again.

"Yes. Up to the hilt. Mmm 3;"

"And now, go to sleep."

Almost at once, his breathing changed and he was away. He was so slight I could hold him in my arms with ease. I turned over the day's events in my mind, and realised that for the first time in years, I was happy. I thought briefly of Harvest Time, and went to sleep.

Chapter 26. Setting Out

By the time I had had a shower, he was stirring. I put my head round the door.

"Time to get up! Busy day ahead. Have a shower – get good and clean then jeans and tee-shirt. No pants. Come on!"

He flung himself out of bed and as he blundered sleepily past me I made to grab his erection. He squeaked and evaded me, and I chased him into the bathroom.

In a few minutes he was out and we sat down to breakfast.

"We're off to London for the day."

"Hey! Why?"

"Oh, this and that. There are some people we need to visit. Maybe we can do some fun things too. I mean, ordinary fun things."

He smiled.

"So, life isn't only sex, then? Shame."

I laughed at him.

"Junior sex fiend! Oh, you'll have plenty of sex. Or rather, of sex things. You'll see."

It was another sunny day, with the combines crawling across fields as we drove, filling the air with the dust and fresh straw smell of harvest time. I knew I would never forget these hot, bright days.

He had brought some of his cassettes with him, and I indulged him by putting up with the endless throbbing disco. Remember that?

"Now, Tim, we're going to be meeting some other Masters," I said, as we started to thread through the roads of north London. The heat was making the city even grubbier than usual, the dusty pavements gasping for rain, the people moving slowly in summer clothes.

"There are various rules. Try to observe them. It reflects well on me if you do. Always walk a step behind me, to one side. Call me 'Master', and the other Masters 'Sir'. If we meet any slaves, call them 'Sir' too. You'll be junior to them."

"Slaves! Am I a slave, then?"

"Technically, yes, and I shall refer to you as my slave. I don't actually like the word much, but one must follow the conventions."

"I don't mind. Slave!" He shivered. "It's, well, kind of exciting."

"You would say that! But I expect more from you than you'd expect from a 'slave'. Treat them all with respect, although some of them are fairly pathetic, frankly."

"How do you mean?"

"Well. Every slave wants to submit. You understand. You do too. Remember yesterday, in bed? It's all too easy to let a slave really give himself up. I expect more of you than that. You must be a person as well. I don't go for zombies."

"I love you."

"Most slaves are trained to look at the floor all the time. That's one convention you will not follow. Hold your head up, even before the Masters. Don't be insolent about it; just do it. If anyone tries to stare you out, look away, not down. Never down. You are MY slave, don't forget it, and we have standards to maintain. We are us! We are tremendous!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Don't sit down unless I tell you. If food or drink is offered, let me say 'yes' or 'no' for you. If a Master asks you questions, look briefly at me before answering, then answer in a quiet voice, simply and factually. If a Master wishes to give you an instruction, he will ask me first. Don't obey instructions from anyone unless I tell you to. Offer no opinions. Don't joke. Don't smile. Never speak unless you are spoken to. Do you understand?"

"I – I hope so. It sounds a bit frightening."

"Don't worry. They will make allowances, because you are very new. And young. But if possible, I rather they didn't have to make allowances. You are worth more than that. You are the best. You have no need to be ashamed in front of anyone."

"Thank you, sir."

"If you're alone with other slaves, be polite and defer to them. You may find that some of them are arseholes and try to take advantage of you. If so, here is a direct order: do not submit to anything demeaning or humiliating from a slave."

"I understand."

"Don't worry. It'll be fun."

He smiled at me.

Chapter 27. A Visit

There was brief pause, and the door was opened by a young man I knew.

"Good morning, sir," he said. "Please come in."

"Thank you, Andrew." We stepped into the hall. "Are you well?"

"Thank you, sir, yes, the Master is very well, as am I. The Master is downstairs, sir, and he invites you to join him with your slave."

"Thank you. Please lead the way."

"Yes, sir."

He led us along the corridor, through a door and down a flight of steps. I could hear Tim following me. Through another door and into Paul's dungeon.

Paul was clearly engaged in a whipping. His victim, a young man in his twenties, was strung up against a pillar, his arms over his head. His weeping and groans filled the room. Along the wall a row of four other men, some young and some older, stood naked, their hands cuffed behind them. Paul's usual decor of smoking torches in sconces, low red lights and braziers made the atmosphere hot and leaden. The room stank of burning tallow, sweat and semen.

I thought of Tim lying in the Chair with the bright afternoon light on his skin, and sighed. I've been spoilt, I thought.

"My dear David," said Paul, handing the flogger to Andrew and kissing me. "How wonderful to see you again."

Paul's a tall, handsome man in his sixties, with more than a touch of camp about him. And as I knew from first hand, he's one of the best trainers in the business. Fourteen years ago it had been me standing in line by that wall, with the bastard I called Master paying for me to be there. If it weren't for Paul, god knows what would have happened to me.

That was then. But we kept in touch.

"Good to see you to, Paul. Still keeping busy, I see."

"Lord, yes. A whipping a day keeps the doctor away, eh, Andrew?"

"Yes, Master. Exercise is certainly very beneficial."

"He keeps an eye on me, you see, David. Proper exercise, adequate sex, moderate amounts only of good organic food, early to bed and early to rise. I sometimes wonder who's the Master and who's the slave."

"I am in very little doubt of the distinction, Master, I can assure you."

I looked at Andrew with interest. He had grown well, an assured, well-adjusted slave, who knew exactly the right level at which to approach his Master.

"Isn't he poppet?" Paul slapped his arse. "But who is this? Is this him? Your new slave? David, he's a child. Chicken. Have him come over here."

I nodded to Tim, who moved over to Paul, and to my delight gave him a small bow.

"So, boy, how old are you?"

"Answer Paul's questions, Tim."

"Yes, Master. I'm fourteen, sir."

"Aren't you very young for this?"

"My Master decided I was old enough."

"Decided, did he? When was that?"

"Yesterday, sir."

"Yesterday? Fast work. Dear god, you're beautiful. He's adorable, David. I really must congratulate you."

"Thank you."

"I'll measure him now, and we'll do the other thing. Then you can come back this evening."

"Right. Here?"

"Lord, no. Come upstairs. Andrew, will you carry on with this? I want this one," he gestured to the post, "to pass out. Do it slowly. After that, give each of the others twenty-five."

"Yes, Master."

"Andrew's doing well," I said as we left.

"Very excellently, yes. He's an excellent slave, and he will be an excellent Master. Just like you. And is Tim Master material, David?"

"I don't think so, no. He is a true and complete submissive."

"Rare, but very, very lovely when you find it."

Chapter 28. A Gift

"Now. Come over here, lad."

He took a tape measure from a drawer and carefully measured Tim's wrists and neck. He had him lie on a table and measured his ankles. He measured his head and used dental moulds to get the size and shape of his mouth.

"Right. Hop down now, son."

"Yes, sir."

Tim obeyed, and Paul smacked his arse, hard. He didn't even flinch.

"I have the ring ready, David. Took me half the night. I hope the child is worth it."

"He is."

"Here, what do you think?"

He passed me the ring I had requested. It was about half an inch [13 mm] in diameter, and, I knew, made of an alloy which was inert and so hard that it is almost impossible to cut. In tiny letters on it were my initials: DG. The open ends contained an internal catch. Once squeezed together it would not come loose.

It was meant to be permanent.

"It's beautiful, Paul. Tim, look at this. Do you see my intitals? This is for you. Have you ever had your ear pierced?"

Tim's eye's widened.

"No, never, master."

Paul snapped on some rubber gloves.

"Do you want to do the piercing yourself, David?"

"Yes please. Do you have some gloves for me? Thanks."

I put the gloves on, and with the things Paul gave me, carefully cleaned Tim's right ear-lobe. Paul gave me a needle. I held it up for Tim to see. I was holding him by the shoulder, and I could feel him tremble.

"Now, Tim. Usually this is done quickly, but I want you to feel it. Stay absolutely still."

I put the needle to his ear-lobe, and slowly pushed. I felt the skin give. A thin, high-pitched noise came from Tim, but he didn't move. Slowly I pushed the needle through.

"That's fine, I'd better take over now," said Paul. In a moment the ring was through the hole. Then with a pair of pliers he pressed it till the ends joined.

Ten years later, Tim still wears it.

He turned to me, two tears hesitating in his eyes, and I kissed him.

"Thank you, Master," he whispered.

"Right, David, you know the drill. Bathe with this and turn it every day." He handed me a bottle. "Will you stop for a cup of tea?"

"No, we must be off. We need to see Damian."

"Everything in one day, eh? Oh well, I'll see you this evening."

He showed us to the door himself; Andrew was still busy in the basement.

Chapter 29. Traffic

"I nearly came when you did that. That was so, so hot! Usually I'm terrified of injections and things like that."

"It's permanent. There's almost no way to get it off."

"There'll be a problem at school, then. We're not allowed ear-rings." He giggled.

"Aren't you? Why didn't you say?"

"Question your actions in front of another Master? I don't think so."

I leant across and kissed him.

"You're really into this, aren't you? You were perfect with him. Why did you bow?"

"It seemed the right thing to do."

"Yes. He was tickled pink. He's my old Master, you know. I very much wanted to impress him. Thank you."

"You were a slave? That's amazing."

"I was his slave for two years. My Master sent me to him to be trained. Every Master who's any good has been a slave."

"David, don't send me to someone else to be trained. Please. I want to stay with you."

"'Course I won't. Why should I pay someone else to have the fun?"

"That dungeon was a bit 3; well, a bit much."

"He goes for the atmospherics. I go for sweetness and light."

He laughed. "Will you whip me, like that? Whip me till I," he gulped, "till I pass out?"

"I shall definitely whip you," I promised. "Probably not till you pass out, unless you pass out unexpectedly. I don't really approve of making people pass out. It's not good for them. Neither does Paul, of course, and Andrew's well aware of that. He won't make that guy pass out. Actually," I added, meditatively, "you'll probably wish you could pass out in the end. Which is worse, a stroke so hard that it makes you pass out? Or, say, a hundred which just make you scream?"

He was silent for a moment. I wondered if I'd gone too far. Then he seemed to shake himself.

"Where next?"

"Well, we'll have to brave the traffic in the Centre. Next stop, Soho!"

It took ages to find somewhere to park, of course, but finally we did. We walked through the bustle, past the gay pubs and bars and shops. Everywhere we went he caught people's eyes, and I knew he noticed.

"Remember," I said, "Be proud! We are us!"

He straightened, and smiled at me. We arrived at an inconspicuous door between two shops. I rang the bell, and waited.

Chapter 30. Two Head Jobs

"Come in, come in. It's good to see you, David."

We kissed.

"Please introduce us?"

"This is Tim, my slave. Tim, this is Master Damian."

"It's good to meet you, Tim."

Tim bowed. "Thank you, sir."

Damian looked at him for a long while. Then he sighed.

"Time passes, doesn't it?"

"Yes. But it doesn't get worse."

He clapped my arm. "Come on up."

Stairs led straight up from the door, and we followed him up into a large room. One other man was standing there, about the same age as Damian. He stood with eyes lowered.

"This is Max, my slave."

I nodded to him.

Damian made a cup of coffee for me, and we chatted for a while, exchanging news about friends. Tim and Max stood silently. I think that out of all my friends on the scene, Damian is the easiest to get on with. Some people's 'masterly' attitudes can get hard to take.

"Right!" he said. "Let's get on with it. If you would get this young man naked, David?"

I nodded to Tim, and he neatly undressed, folding his clothes and putting them on a chair. Damian's room was quite cool, and Tim's tanned skin was goosepimpled. He suddenly looked very small and young.

"Excellent," said Damian, who had produced a tape measure and a pair of calipers. Immediately he measured Tim's dick, before he could get hard. Then he went over him minutely, waist size, between the legs, the size of his balls, the circumference of his legs, everything.

"Please ask him to get hard, now."

I nodded to Tim, noticed the confusion in his eyes and reinforced my order with a firm look. He was already half hard. He started to beat himself off.

"Enough!" said Damian. He measured Tim's hard dick with care.

"You're very beautiful, Tim."

Damian's hands were still on him. "Th-thank you, sir."

"Charming. Tell me, David, has he ever had sex with anyone else, apart from you?"

"Tim?"

He hesitated. "No, sir; well, not really sex."

"Ah, a bit of doctors and nurses behind the bike sheds, I suppose."

But it wasn't that. I could see the panic in Tim's eyes. He didn't want to talk about this. Damian saw it too, and didn't push it.

"Perhaps Max could do him a favour," he said.

Tim's eyes held another kind of confusion now, and I loved it.

"Yes, that would be nice."

"Max?" said Damian. "Come over here and suck him."

Max obeyed with a smile. As his dick entered the mouth of the kneeling slave, Tim gave a groan. I could see his face, open-mouthed, completely mad looking, over Max's shoulder.

"Don't come yet," I told him. He looked at me with wide incomprehending eyes.

Max was clearly an expert. He teased Tim mercilessly, bringing him to the edge again and again. It was a beautiful sight; Tim's confusion and reluctance were delicious.

"You have permission to come," I told him, some minutes later.

"Bring him off, Max," said Damian.

Within seconds, Max had obeyed. Tim grasped his head and screamed, bucking in his mouth, and then collapsed. I moved to lift him up. He clung to me frantically.

"Say thank-you to Max," I said.

Weeping, he turned to the other slave and bowed. "Thank you, sir."

My stomach turned to water.

"Delightful," said Damian. "Now, your things will be ready this evening. Also the rest of the list you gave me."

"Thanks. You'll have my cheque."

"Of course, I'll waive the fee if I could try out his lovely arse."

Tim looked at me in utter horror.

"Okay," I said, "Why not?"

The look of betrayal in Tim's face nearly made me stop. But not quite. This was important; he had to learn.

"Marvellous. Bring him over here, then. Doggy-style, I think. I'm in a doggy-style sort of mood. Lie over this table, Tim."

Tim obeyed. He was hating it, and hating me, but he obeyed. I don't think I had ever loved him so much.

"Spread your legs a little. That's better. So beautiful. And you've never done this, David?"

"Never. You'll be the first."

"I'm honoured. I may not be as big as your Master, Tim, but I think I can still make you squeal." Max helped him undress, and all the time Tim lay there, tears pouring from his eyes.

"Shame in a way that your Master won't be your first. That he won't be the first to push into you. The first is always the first. I will always be your first, Tim," he went on, twisting the knife again and again, "Not your Master, me. This is something you'll never share with him. There's never another first time. A piece of you will always be mine, Tim, always, not his, no matter what happens. I'm going to take your arse, boy, I'm going to possess you 3;"

Tim's weeping was almost a scream now, his body writhing in his distress.

Damain's finger touched Tim's arsehole for the first time, stroking it with lubricant.

And at that moment, Tim safeworded.

"That's it," I said. "That's his safeword."

Tim hurtled from the table into my arms, screaming and weeping.

"I let you down! I did it! I just couldn't – I couldn't!"

I let him weep. Damian gave me a 'wow' look, and left the room with Max. We were alone.

I sat him down, and looked into his face.

"Tim," I said.

He looked at me in utter misery and defeat.

"I have never been more proud of you than at this moment."

Tears were still streaming down his face.

"Something happened which you just couldn't handle. You tried, I saw you try. You really tried. But you couldn't. So you safeworded."

I lifted his face to look at mine. His mouth was open, astonished.

"That's what your safeword is for. That's why you have it. I wanted you to use it."

I stroked his hair.

"That's why I set this up with Damian."

"You – you didn't mean to 3; Then you weren't going to give me to him like that?"

"No. I wanted something impossible, and I knew this would be it."

He looked at me in amazement. I could see his soul being turned upside down before my eyes. It was lovely.

"Then, then everything's all right?"

"Of course. More than all right. Everything's perfect. I couldn't be more pleased and proud if I tried."

I licked his eyes, his face. He recognised the gesture, and laughed. We laughed together.

"Put your clothes on," I said. "Let's go."

Chapter 31. More Truths

"Mmm," he said, "I'm famished!"

"So I see. Well, did you learn something this morning?"

"Why did you let him blow me?"

"Well, it was possible you would safeword then. But you didn't. So we went ahead. We thought it would make you more, well, impressionable afterwards."

"What if I hadn't done it when Damian 3; you know. Then."

"I knew you would. Damian was really cruel in what he said. But just supposing you hadn't, well, you'd have had a nice fuck. He's supposed to be very good at it. He'd have given you a good ride."

"Bastard!" he laughed. "You can wreck me so easily!"

"I'm your Master," I said. "Of course I can."

He smiled at me. The storm was over, and he was feeling good.

"But you see, Tim, there really are things which even you can't handle. You didn't believe me, but maybe you can see it now. No-one can handle everything, and you're no exception."

"Okay. I can see it. 'My body is yours 3;' It wasn't easy to keep that in my mind when you had given me away to someone else."

I flinched. I hadn't quite realised how cruel we had been.

"Never given away. I'll never give you away. Never. I couldn't even if I wanted to."

I squeezed his leg under the table, and he laughed.

"When are you going to hurt me? Really hurt me, I mean. You haven't, yet."

"Tim, dear love, I hurt you this morning. There are lots of kinds of hurt."

He mulled this over.

"I think I'd prefer the other kind."

"You don't get to choose. Remember? I'm your Master."

He looked at me seriously. I waited. There was something coming. Then he hit me with it.

"You know, it's been years since I was whipped."

I literally dropped my knife and fork. He wasn't crying. The pain must be too old, and too deep. But his face was solemn.

"Who whipped you?"

"Oh, don't worry, it wasn't for fun." There was a touch of cynicism in his voice. I was appalled.

"For fun! Years ago! Of course it bloody wasn't for fun. Not fun for you anyhow, anyone can see that. Tim, who was it? What happened?"

"It happened lots of times. But don't make me talk about it. Please? Not today, okay?"

I paused.

"Okay."

"I've never talked about it. Never told anyone about it. I try not to think about it. But, but I thought you ought to know."

My mind whirled. We were going to have to stop. We couldn't carry on. The roots of everything we were doing seemed suddenly corrupt and vicious. I stared at him.

"Dear god, Tim. Of course I ought to know. If I had known, I'd never have 3; What can you think of me? We must stop this at once! This is so, so wrong!"

"Oh no." He was crying again now, quietly, the tears running down his cheeks. "You don't get it? Have I spoiled everything again?"

"Tim!"

"Don't you see? Everything we do is something I've got back. It isn't wrong. It's right. Everything we do, it's right. You help me with everything you do. Everything you show me. Once we've done it, then it doesn't matter any more that HE did it. Don't you see? It's so wonderful. Every thing that happens, I'm a bit freer from him."

"Oh, my god, Tim!" I was crying too, now.

He touched my face.

"My Master mustn't cry. Be my Master. Don't stop. Please."

Now he was comforting me. I grabbed his hand, pressed it hard.

"That's why we have to do everything," he said. "Everything. I know this is right. Everything."

He waited.

"Okay. Everything," I said. Suddenly, I felt strength flood back into me. We would do this. It was even better, even more important than I had thought.

"I'm not looking forward to being whipped again," he said. "I'd rather not think about that just now." He smiled. "Anyhow, HE did other things as well. You can guess. That's another reason why it has to be you, not Damian. Or anyone else, I've nothing against him, I'm sure he's very nice. But it has to be you."

I stared at him. Another blow to the belly, but I wouldn't let him see it.

"It will be me. Promise. No-one else."

I was terrified at the thought of what we had been playing with this morning. Of what could have happened. He saw it.

"Don't worry so much. It didn't happen, did it?"

I laughed. "Damn, you're so bright."

"Sure I am. I'm taking ten gcses this autumn. That's years ahead. I'm a fucking genius, I am."

"I won't forget it." It was hard to see precisely whose mind had been fucked the most today.

"We're a mess," I said, wiping his face with a napkin. "I tell you what. It'll be some time before Damian and Paul have finished your things."

"What things, anyhow? What is all the is measuring and so on?"

"You'll see. Anyhow why don't we, let's see, go to the Planetarium? Ever been there?"

Chapter 32. An Afternoon Out

We lay in the dark, holding hands, staring at he false sky as the show went on. We were like two teenager lovers in the cinema.

When the lights came up, I saw that he had fallen asleep. I pushed him gently, and he stirred and opened his eyes.

"Mmm?"

"Come on, son, let's go."

He smiled and stood up. I looked at my watch. We still had time to take in Madame Tussauds if he wanted to.

He did. Fortunately my friend was able to get us in there, or would have been a long wait.

"I have my price," he laughed, as he let us in through a side door. "A kiss. From him."

Tim looked at him and smiled. He was older than me, but he had a kind face. Tim gave him the works. With tongues. I was flabbergasted.

"Well!" I said, as my friend left us.

"So? I've already let a total stranger suck my dick today. What's a kiss? He was nice to us."

"Tart!"

"Pimp! Child abuser!"

I chased him and tickled him, with the usual shrieking results. Some of the customers shushed and tutted us.

I've always found waxworks a disappointment, kitsch and pointless. Tim seemed to share my feelings. A replica Margaret Thatcher? What for? I suggested the Chamber of Horrors, but he just found this absurd, walking round giggling at the exhibits. When we came to a mockup of a torture chamber, though, he was horrified and outraged.

"How can they do that?" he muttered to me. "How can they show these things for people to gloat over? It's horrible."

"But we actually DO them. Well, some of them."

"That's quite different. You know it is. That's what – lunchtime was all about. It's not the same at all, or I'd never let you do it."

"You're right, actually. I never liked this place. Let's go."

Fortunately a group of stuffed-looking wax mps on the way out restored his sense of the absurd. We left.

We were just before the evening rush, and managed to get to Damian's place with little difficulty.

"D'you know," said Tim, as we waited at the door, "I'm actually embarrassed to meet him again."

"Don't be. He's an experienced Master. It's all in a day's work for him."

Max answered the door and followed us upstairs. While he was making me a cup of coffee, Damian appeared, carrying two large boxes.

"Here we are. Hello, Tim. No hard feelings?"

Tim glanced at me, then bowed.

"I apologise for using my safeword, sir."

"Apology accepted. We wanted you to, anyway. Come here."

He obeyed, and Damian kissed him gently.

Chapter 33. Tightness

"Tim," I said, "This is a chastity belt." He looked at me, puzzled. "It will stop you from wanking, or even getting hard. From now on you will wear it most of the time."

He made a strange little cry.

"In future, you will only come when I allow it, and in my presence. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

"Come over here, Tim," said Damian. "The waist band goes round here, above your hips. Your dick goes in this." He folded the two halves of the tube around Tim's already hardening dick. "Your balls go in this, and then there's this connecting it to the belt." He strapped it together. The ball pouch was a seriously tight fit, and I saw Tim's eyes widen as it was fitted. Straps round his legs and over his arse globes held it in place. He showed me the lock which held it all together, and gave me the keys. Finally there was the strap which run through the crack of his arse, over his hole and up to the belt at the back. "You can screw a dildo here. I've included a selection. This strap is detachable and it has its own lock, so that you can undo it when he needs to shit, or if someone's going to fuck him." He tweaked Tim's nose.

Tim looked at me wide-eyed, but in Damian's presence said nothing. The belt, and the thought of what it would do to his feelings, intoxicated me. I grabbed him and kissed him deeply, as my hands ran over the straps.

"All the time, Tim," I whispered in his ear. "All the time. You wanted the tightness 3;"

Once again, a strange cry came from him.

"It's already hurting, Master. I can't get hard. Master – It's a very strong feeling, Master."

"I know. Deal with it."

I turned to Damian. "And the other one?"

"It's similar, but disguised as a swimming costume. From what you said, I thought that might be a good idea. It can be worn anywhere; the straps and so on are not visible."

"How about showers? Swimming?"

"They're water-proof. It isn't a problem. You should take off the dick-tube every few days, for cleaning. Apart from that it can be worn continuously. How long since you took yours off, Max?"

"Thirty-six days, Master."

"And in that time, have you managed to come?" I asked.

"No, sir. I am never permitted to come in that way."

"It's true," said Damian. "It's nearly two years since he came, except by being fucked. He has to be fucked to come. He doesn't even try to get hard any more, do you, Max?"

"No, Master. My dick does not try to get hard. It hasn't done so for a very long time."

Tim was staring at Max in horror and amazement. I wanted him to fear this. Of course, I wasn't going to treat him in this way. I loved his hard dick too much.

"I hope in the end to train him to not even want it. In the end he will be a one-hundred-percent fucktoy. We're getting there. Will you stay for supper?"

"No, we'd better be going. We still have to visit Paul again, and get home. Tim, put your clothes on."

He obeyed. Once he was finished, there was nothing to show the restriction he was in. It was delicious.

Chapter 34. Changes

"Feel okay? Walking okay?"

"Sure. It's pretty comfortable, actually."

"Yes. Damian is really good."

"David, you aren't going to, you know 3;"

"What?"

"Keep me in it for months and months and stop me ever coming?"

We got into the car, and I swung it towards the north, and Paul's house.

"I could."

"Oh wow. Oh, David. Please. I really like coming. When you sucked my dick 3;"

I had mercy.

"I could, but I won't. In fact for the moment you'll be taking it off every night, most of the time. I just don't want you coming whenever you feel like it. Coming is only for between us. I want you frustrated all the time. I'm kinky that way."

He laughed, with relief.

"It is tight. I like it."

"We'll see how you like it when I screw a ten-inch [25 cm] dildo into it."

"A dildo?"

"A false cock. To go up your arse."

"Oh, god!"

"Most people use them to open slaves up, so that they can be fucked more easily. Smaller ones first, then bigger and bigger. You know. I won't with you."

"Why not?"

"I want to use my dick to open you up. It'll hurt more that way. Dildo's afterwards."

He actually smiled at this bloodthirsty remark.

"You said I'll take it off each night?"

"Yes, I think so. Usually."

"But, David, I'll have to tell you. I wank at nights."

I smiled at him.

"We'll have other ways to stop that."

We walked the few hundred yards from the car to Paul's house.

"It kind of massages me as I walk. It's an odd sort of feeling. Sexy. But my dick can't get hard. It's quite tantalising."

I laughed at him.

"That's the idea. Always desperate for it."

"Bastard!"

"'My sex is yours 3;'."

"' 3; Do what you want with me.' Okay, I understand."

"Do you? This is me taking your sex under control, Tim. From now on, it's me, not you, who decides when you come. That's what this is about."

"Wow."

"It's a permanent change. When you come: that's a decision you've given up for ever, so long as you stay with me."

"Which will be for ever."

I smiled at him, as we stood at Paul's door.

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