Michael

Michael

' Can you come along Michael, purely a social call, no need to bring anything with you'. It wasn't a request of course, when you live in the same house as the boss, he calls the shots. Strange though, in the six months I'd been working for him he'd never issued a summons like this before, everything had been very work orientated. Not that I minded, the pay was very good, plenty of travel, stay at the best places and a rent free flat in his mansion, hog heaven. So the hours were long but working for this guy was an education in itself, I'd learned more since I'd worked for him than I had at any university or college and I attended a couple of those. Being PA to Mr. Hunter meant I was on the inside for most of his dealings and the inside was an insight to a young man hungry for money and position. Well worth the hours of psych testing it had taken to get me here. I still thought almost daily of how lucky I was to get through all that but still wondered at how much of it there'd been, far more than any other job interview I'd had.

I shut down the computer and made my way out into the corridor, softly lit as always, just my flat in this area. I had to go quite a way before getting to the area occupied by Mr. Hunter, up and down a couple of flights of stairs and through a number of beautiful rooms which had been ballrooms and reception rooms in their day, now mostly used as offices, my boss doesn't socialise at home. Just don't understand why the man buys a huge house, uses half a dozen rooms for himself, turns the rest into offices for his business then spends thousands entertaining in expensive London hotels. Still, if you've got a heavy industries company that practically owns a couple of Far Eastern countries you're entitled to do what you want.

I came to the green baize covered door which guarded his private quarters, punched in the access code and pushed through into a corridor panelled in beautiful light oak. When I first came here I'd thought he had some marvellous prints of Old Masters on the walls, that was before I realised they weren't prints. The pale blue carpet in this section never seemed to "go" with the panelling but it cost more than I make in six months, so maybe my taste isn't all that good. It is better now than when I was a kid in a council house in Yorkshire but there are some rough edges still that need working on. The bosses taste in chamber music still leaves me cold and my knowledge of impressionist painters is very sketchy. The manners have now become passable in polite society but the accent needs work, the flat hard vowel sounds still surface in times of stress. Still, we've come a long way, even though there is still a long way to go but things look rosy for the trip.

I press the communicator on his study door, knowing where he'll be even though he hadn't mentioned it.

"Come in Michael", so he's obviously not expecting anyone else.

The door opens softly and easily despite it being very thick, my boss values his privacy and in this section of the house each room is individually soundproofed. You could have a pop group playing next door with the sound gear stretched to the limit and not a sound would come past the walls.

Mr. Hunter uses the old library as his study; he says the floor to ceiling books give him a link to the past. The massive mahogany desk and communications gear on it are top of the range and always seem out of place here. He's sitting at the desk as I come in and looks up, gesturing to two chairs by the fire;

"Sit down Michael; I'll be with you in a moment."

"Very good Sir". He prefers old fashioned forms of speech in this sort of situation. As I cross the floor I see he is wearing what seems to be a dressing gown, odder and odder for a man who is normally meticulous in his dress. Sitting back in the chair I look at my boss, engrossed in whatever he is doing.

A man of fifty-two with a head of pure white hair, he's a couple of inches over my 5' 10", narrow face with deep lines in the cheeks and a high forehead hinting at the power of his mind. His eyes are the most startling green, a bright, deep colour I've never seen in another living soul. His body has the long flat muscles of a martial artist and he hires one of the better ju-jitsu black belts to work out with him whenever he can spare the time. The gym at the house is a thing of wonder, after three months he invited me to use it and my body tone has benefited. We also go running in the estate if time permits; being woken at four to run with the boss before an early flight can be a pain in the arse at times but it serves a purpose.

My thoughts were interrupted as I heard Mr. Hunter get up from the desk and walk over to take the chair opposite me.

"So you've been with me now, for what, six months?" It was framed as a question but he probably knew to the second.

"That's right Sir" What the hell is this about?

"Are you happy here?"

"Very much so thank you. I'm learning a lot and hopefully earning my keep."

A thin smile greeted this sally.

"You don't seem to go out a lot during your spare time".

"With the greatest respect to yourself, I don't have a lot of spare time."

Another thin smile. The green eyes came up and met mine. I felt as if two holes were being bored through my skull.

"And you have some very esoteric tastes in web sites, or so the IT people tell me." My blood ran cold.

"BDSM, now let me think, what does that mean? Ah yes, I remember, Bondage, Domination and Sado-Masochism is it not?" The green eyes seemed almost to glow. My mouth went dry, how was I to get out of this? Not waiting for a reply the boss continued.

"And a good sprinkling of gay sites too. You do have….odd, tastes". Shit and shit, I was convinced I'd covered my tracks but the IT department was obviously staffed with better men than me, it looked as if pride was about to go before a severe fall.

"So what do you have to say about this matter?" No good trying to bluster or quote privacy laws with this guy, he could have them re-written if he wanted.

"This hasn't affected my work for you, Sir, Everything you wanted I've completed on time and I've never compromised my whereabouts or who I worked for."

"Quite, quite, and I'm sure you realise that had you done so your circumstances would be far less happy than they now are. Have you ever had a girl friend?"

Where the devil is this leading?

"One or two while I was at university, Sir".

"But obviously nothing serious ". He used the word almost like an insult.

"No Sir".

"Have you had a homo-sexual experience? Remember, before you answer, the profiling you experienced when you entered my employment. I feel I should say that a great deal depends on the honesty of your answer." I felt a sheen of sweat break out on my face. What do I do? Tell him the truth and then plead for my job, or lie and hope the security wing of his empire hasn't done their research properly.

I try to meet his eyes but I can't, the power of personality crushes me. There's only one thing for it.

"I did have one very minor experience when I was in my early teens."

"Tell me about it."

For a few moments I was silent, collecting my racing thoughts. He seemed to realise this and was silent himself. How could I tell this refined man about what had happened?

I was around thirteen at the time, the other boy a year older. We had been roaming round the countryside near our homes and for some reason, I don't remember why, but these things just happened then, we had ended up showing each other our cocks. Barry, the other boy, had a terrific hard on and, looking down at his cock, said to me "Do you want to suck it?" I tried to recollect the thoughts that had been racing through my head at that time. I had looked down at the erect cock before me, the glans peeping out from the gently distended foreskin. My heart was beating like a trip hammer and with every fibre of my being I wanted to drop to my knees and take this wonderful thing into my mouth, to run my tongue over its' hard softness but then I remembered how close to the road we were. If any one should come by and see me the shame would be too much.

'Can we go further into the wood?'

'OK' he said and put his cock back into his pants. As we walked a few yards further into the trees my heart was still beating fast and I was almost quivering with anticipation at what lay in store.

We pushed our way into some bushes and he turned to me, 'OK?'

I nodded my assent and although I wouldn't have thought it possible, my pulse increased yet again and my breath caught in my throat.

"Take your pants off', whatever he wanted I would do. I kicked them away from my ankles, the air cool round my body. He dropped his own trousers and again that beautiful thing came into view, so proud and tense.

'Turn round.' I faced away from him and heard him take a step forward, and then felt his hands on my hips and the head of his cock between my buttock cheeks. He made no attempt to penetrate me but used my arse as an aid to masturbation, frictioning his cock up and down. After a few minutes his breathing became harsher and quicker and very soon he gasped and I felt a warm wetness invade my crack. He quickly pulled up his pants, leaving me to deal with the rapidly cooling slime between my cheeks.

I was so disappointed that he hadn't given me the chance to do what I really wanted to do but when he asked if I fancied "Doing it again" the following afternoon I willingly agreed, hoping that my chance would come to use my mouth on his cock.

It didn't happen though, because someone had seen us and reported to our parents. There was a tremendous scandal in a small Yorkshire village and we were forbidden from going anywhere near each other on the direst penalties.

Somehow I related this to Mr. Hunter, my throat like sandpaper, my speech faltering as I sought for the right words. When I finished he looked at me for what seemed to be an age.

"And do you regret that you did not have a chance to…..finalise the deed?"

I mumbled a reply.

"Speak up plainly Michael; do you regret not having taken his penis in your mouth?"

"Yes Sir".

He nodded his head.

"Good boy, I am glad you have been honest with me. I knew of this of course, security turned it up while researching you."

My head snapped up and I met his gaze for an instant. He smiled in quite a kindly manner.

"Poor boy, you've been trying to keep your little secret while accessing all these web sites."

His eyes became calculating then he appeared to come to a decision of some sort.

"Michael, I am a man with, shall we say, needs that are different to the normal run of men. In the past I have paid young men to fulfil these needs but as I have become more powerful and richer this has presented more and more problems as the possibility of blackmail became ever more threatening. When I employed you, you were subject to a battery of tests which were designed to establish your mindset. In effect I was looking for someone who would join me in my little pastimes but who would be bound to me also by financial and I hoped personal ties. During the last six months you have been observed closely and the reports tell me that you could be this person. Should you choose not to be, you will of course have to leave my service immediately. You would be rewarded for my terminating your contract early but I would have to take certain measures to ensure you did not communicate any of this to other interests."

He let this hang in the air while my brain whirled like a hamster in a cage. BDSM, gay sites, this man, was he wanting me to become his slave while doing my present job? Suddenly it was as if my every wish had come true at once, which they had. This wonderful man would become my master, my lover, my protector; I would serve him with mind and body. I looked up at him and he couldn't fail but to see the happiness in my face.

He opened his dressing gown and I saw he was totally naked. I had no knowledge of other mens' equipment but the sight before me set my pulse racing and my breath quickened. His cock was of a good size, his balls round and full, none of this view being hampered by pubic hair. He opened his legs a little wider, and then looked across at me with a quizzical smile on his face.

'Well, Michael?' was all he said. All the locks and chains in the world could not have kept me from what I wanted, needed, to do.

I crossed the couple of yards between us and knelt between his legs. There was a scent of his toiletries and I saw that he had talced after showering. Now that I was only inches away from his almost fully hard weapon I had momentary doubts. Of course I knew what to do in broad terms, having fantasised so many times but now I was confronted with the real thing and one thing I did not want to do was disappoint this great man.

Very gently I grasped the shaft of his tool in my right hand and brought my mouth down towards it. I pulled the skin of his cock downwards towards his body so the head stood proud and reverently ran my tongue round it. Try as I might I could contain myself no longer and took the head of his cock into my mouth, my tongue delighted in the smooth hardness of it as I swirled it round and round. He sighed and shuddered. My left hand went to his balls and I gently moved them round my palm, at the same time using my nails to caress the junction of his scrotum and his body. Having satisfied my initial need for his cock I then proceeded to do all those wonderful things I had dreamt of for so long, running my tongue along the length of it, squeezing the head so that the slit gaped and then trying to get my tongue inside and sucking gently while moving my head back and forth. The gasps, sighs and shudders I heard and felt from his body told me I was on the right track.

After a time I moved my mouth to his balls kissing and licking them and finally opening my mouth as far as possible to get them inside while I continued to massage them with my tongue.

It seemed only a short while before I heard his voice, thick and husky, say my name. I let his balls slide from my mouth and looked up at him. He put his hands on my cheeks and moved my mouth once more to his cock where I opened my lips to welcome it. Gently he moved my face backwards and forwards to indicate what he wanted me to do. Sucking all the time I moved my lips over his glans, my heart beating even faster as I realised that this was IT, I would have a man cum in my mouth. I could feel the tension increase in his body and increased my pace until with a deep groan he came, flooding my mouth with his semen. Something of ammonia, slightly salty, quite bland, I'm sure I will have many opportunities to acquire the taste for it. There was no question as to what I would do with it and so swallowed every drop as it pulsed out. When his orgasm was over I kept his shrinking cock in my mouth, quietly caressing it with my lips and tongue, cleaning and loving it. After a while he pulled out from my mouth. I tilted my head back to look up at him. He smiled down.

"Not bad for beginner." My heart leaped at the praise.

"However, your readings in BDSM will have no doubt shown you that in a relationship such as the one I wish to develop with you, the giving and receiving of pain is also an integral part." A small worm of fear started to burrow in my belly. What comes next? I've just given him the most that one man can give another. He stood up and let the dressing gown fall from his shoulders. The planes of his beautiful body gleamed in the soft light.

"Stand up and remove your clothing." I did so and neatly laid my clothes on the chair, all except my pants. I was embarrassed as my own cock was stiffening showing my excitement.

"ALL your clothes" Like a whiplash in the still room. I hurriedly pulled down my pants and laid them on the chair. My instinct was to hide my now erect cock with my hands but I felt that was not what he wanted, so managed to keep them by my side. He looked me up and down.

"You will need to do more gym work". But if he noticed my erection, how could he not, he made no comment.

"Walk to the door behind my desk". He followed me across the room picking up a key from the desk as he did so. I stopped at the closed door which he then opened with the key. Immediately I was struck by the smell of new leather.

"Enter", He again followed me, flicking on the lights. In front of me was a shape I had seen on web sites but never in real life. My knees went weak and I turned to him. He gave a grim smile.

"You recognise this of course."

"Is it a whipping horse?" my voice going hoarse with fear but at the same time my erection, which had slackened during the walk across the room, stiffened again. Why should the prospect of pain excite me so?

"It is indeed and I intend to introduce you to it very shortly. First, close your eyes and keep them closed." I complied with his order. I could hear him walk round the room, open and shut a door and return to my left side.

"Keeping your eyes closed and your hands by your sides, lean back slightly."

I wobbled a bit as I did so, having trouble because of my balance with closed eyes.

"Good, a little further." I managed to bend my back a little more, very aware of and embarrassed by the way my cock was thrust out before me.

"Good, very good, stay like that a moment."

I suddenly heard a swish and felt a sickening agonising pain in the head of my cock. I screamed, fell to my knees and grabbed my offended member with both hands sweat breaking out over my body.

"I do not recall telling you to do that." Through eyes filled with tears I looked up at him, saw the whippy cane in his right hand. I staggered to my feet, held my now limp dick in my hand, expecting to see blood and a wound but there was only a red mark, deepening quickly.

"You do not experience sexual pleasure of any kind or degree unless I allow you to, understand?"

" Yes, Sir" through gritted teeth, the head of my cock again in my hand.

"We must take steps to ensure that you cannot achieve an erection." My guts twisted with fear.

"What do you mean Sir?"

"You will find out in good time but for now I think it is time to introduce you to the horse"

My mind was churning with so many emotions, tear, because I knew that I was about to experience more pain than I had ever had before but also a kind of elation that this was about to happen. Something I had fantasised about for so many years was on the point of becoming reality.

He took my left arm above the elbow and guided me on trembling knees across the room. I noticed the horse was an unusual design with six legs but my mind was in no state to wonder why. I was led to the end of the horse and he told me to open my legs slightly to match those of the instrument of my torture. I felt the wood of the legs against the flesh of my legs and the leather against my lower belly. This was the moment I could end my torment before it ever began, by walking away. I meekly stayed. Mr. Hunter bent down and I felt him fasten a strap around my left ankle, pulling it tight then after a pause, pulling again to gain more security. I could have bent my head and watched him but I kept my eyes fixed on a painting of an Italian scene on the wall before me. He next placed a strap round my left thigh and pulled it as tight as possible, denying my leg the right to help me run when the pain came. He then strapped my right leg to the horse. while I contemplated the happy Italian peasants. What would they think if they could see this scene, with a young man being strapped to a wooden horse for punishment?

His hand between my shoulder blades, pushing me forward, my chest along the horse, the smell of new leather filling my senses. A broad strap across the small of my back, the leather stiff in its' newness. My head is turned to the left and I look at a sideboard covered in crystal glass, very civilised. More straps at my wrists and upper arms. My brain is screaming that it doesn't want what is about to occur but the worm of submission is poisoning it, making me lie still.

The boss finishes securing me, breathing deeply from pulling on the straps.

"I think I deserve a restorative before we commence".

He walks back into the study, I see the muscles at his shoulders and arms and an involuntary shudder runs through my body. The sound of glass on glass, a sigh as he sits down, drinks brandy while I shiver, terrified and waiting, secured for his entertainment.

The straps start to bite into my flesh hurting before the great hurt. My cock, trapped between my body and the leather, tries to harden. Fool thing, don't you realise the pain that must go through this body?

I hear him get to his feet and see him walk through the door towards me, cane dangling from his right hand. I try to turn my eyes back to see him but lose him as he approaches my body on my left side. My heart pounds and I have difficulty breathing, the fear takes over from any lust that may have remained. I feel the cane gently touch my arse, my muscles contract. I have no control over them. He says no word. I hear a swish and a line of fire burns across my arse. I do not scream, although a sharp gasp is torn from me. My small victory. Sweat breaks out over my body. Again the cane touches my arse, again the swish and the fire again the gasp. And so it goes, the touch of the cane contracts my muscles before the agony of the stroke. Somewhere about the tenth stroke I can control my self no longer, I scream, hear a small noise of satisfaction as he acknowledges my surrender. Sweat pours from me; I feel it trickle between the cheeks of my arse, strange that in all this agony that should register. The leather beneath my chest is wet with it. Soon my voice becomes hoarse but he does not let up. The metronome efficiency of his beating is terrible, the strokes coming after exactly the same interval every time, the interval needed to let the pain flood my body to the full. I twist and turn in the straps; I have no control as my body tries to escape the agony. How could I ever have desired this? Time goes by, I scream my pain to the night, until even that is denied me and I can only groan more loudly as the cane turns my arse into pure pain.

It has stopped; I hear my sobbing and gasping for breath, feel the mucus that has run from my nose and mouth. He too is panting, from his exertions. He goes back to the library, to replenish his glass. I hear his feet as he returns.

"No more, please, no more." I beg. What can I do to have him not hit me again? The cheeks of my arse quiver uncontrollably, my whole body goes into spasm as the organism thinks it may soon be reliving the beating.

But it's not too be. He unfastens the straps that hold my body; I slide off that horrible horse and scream once more as my flayed arse contacts the floor.

"Get up." He repeats the order. I can't move. My whole body is a mass of shaking agony.

"If you are not on your feet in ten seconds you will be re-secured and I will beat you to within an inch of your life."

Hasn't he done that already? But the threat beats the pain I now feel and somehow, arms and legs in all directions, I make it upright.

"Good boy" the words bring a rush of pleasure. Again he takes me by the arm. I groan as the tortured muscles in my rear begin to move. He takes me to a chair and stops in front of it. "

" Bend over, hands on the seat. Legs wide apart." Oh, no,no,please no, no more.

He walked over to a cabinet at the side of the room and removed something from it, then walked behind me. I heard a strange sound and couldn't remember what it was until it came to me, rubber gloves being donned!

'Spread your legs as wide as possible'. I did my best although the cramps in them made it difficult. I felt his hands spread my buttocks, the cool air playing round my anus relieving the agony of his hands on my flesh. Tension flooded through me, overcoming the tiredness from the evenings' activities. I shifted my feet nervously.

'Keep still'. Very quiet but with the iron of command. The fingers of one hand held my cheeks parted and suddenly there was a cold, wet slippery feeling at my hole. My cheeks clenched reflexively and my legs came together as I gasped.

'You seem to be very disobedient this evening'

'I'm sorry Sir, things are happening so fast it's upsetting me.'

'Yes, I suppose you are having a rather unusual evening, however, that does not excuse your conduct and unless you feel that a further period of discipline is required I strongly recommend your attention to my orders'.

'Yes Sir, I am sorry, it won't happen again. I really do want to please you.'

'Very well, reopen your legs.' After I comply I feel something press into my hole.

'As you have performed reasonably well so far, with one or two exceptions, I have decided to ease your passage for both of us and am now applying a lubricant. You will do well to allow the passage of my finger without clenching your muscles to reject it.'

With that the pressure increased and I felt the start of a dull nagging ache as my sphincter was opened. Instinctively my muscles contracted to stop the passage of something entering my body by that route but to no avail. The steady pressure continued, as did the entry of his finger,

'I told you before, do not contract your muscles, breath deeply and relax.'

How can I relax with someone sticking a finger up my arse, the thought comes to my head but also comes excitement at what is being done to me. So many fantasies coming true in one day!

The finger is removed, my rectum feels strangely empty. More lube is applied.'

'I am now going to use two fingers, remember what I said'

This time the ache is really severe, I groan uncontrollably, partly because of that but also because he has failed to cut his nails short and even through the gloves they are abrading the sides of my passage. When the fingers have entered to their maximum he turns them about. I feel the desire to push the intrusion out but try my best to remain still.

'Good boy'. His tone is what he would use to a dog but still it fills me with pride.

Once more the fingers are removed and then I hear him discard the gloves. He comes to my head, his cock becoming erect.

" Open your mouth' and as I do so he inserts his cock. I suck eagerly, perhaps he'll let me suck him off rather than raping me but his next words disillusion me.

'Rather ironic that you should harden the cock that fucks you, don't you think?' In my battered mind I see the rightness of it, that he should do this to me in my beaten and broken state.

He pulls his now fully erect cock from my mouth and once more walks behind me. He puts on a condom.

'And now young man, for the moment of truth'. His left hand is placed on my left hip and I feel something which seems huge at my entrance. His right hand finds my right hip and I feel the pressure at my hole increase. I can't help it, I whimper but whether it's from fright or anticipation or both I know not. Steadily the pressure increases, he's not violent but I know he won't stop until he is in my bowels. The ache from the stretching of my muscle ring is intense, my hands clench and unclench and I rise to my toes for some reason known to no one.

'Please, please give me a minute, please ease off' I hear myself pleading but know there will be no respite until he is deep in me. The pain from this taking of my virginity is so intense that I am covered in sweat and can only groan between breaths. Suddenly the pain decreases slightly and I think the head of his tool must have made it into my bowel.

He keeps up the pressure and slowly I feel the length of his cock it my rectum, filling me, making me want to eject him but at the same time loving the fullness of it all. I feel his thighs against my straining cheeks and the agonies of flesh on seared flesh.I know he is totally in me. He pauses momentarily then begins a slow, long, steady thrusting, working his cock round inside me, straining the already strained sphincter and making me gasp at the stabs of pain. Gradually his pace increases but the length of the thrust decreases; again he starts to pant with exertion. He's hammering into me so hard. Suddenly he gives a fierce lunge that pushes me onto the back of the chair and he falls on top of me.

In a few seconds his cock slips from my bowel, leaving again a feeling of emptiness despite my rape. He rises to his feet.

"On your knees, face away from the chair." Oh no, what next.

He comes to stand in front of me, facing away from me. He bends over; legs wide spread but say not a word. It takes a while for my pain raddled brain to realise he will not say anything, the last part of my total submission is up to me.

I shuffle forward, gasping from the dual pain of my buttocks and sphincter. I gently part the cheeks of his arse and reveal his crinkled anus. Slowly, reverently I put my lips on it and very gently lick it. The only taste is a salty, sweaty. He sighs.I become more forward, trying to push my tongue into the tight orifice. He lets me continue like this for some time before moving away and turning towards me.

He looks at me and smiles a smile of pure delight.

"Thank you Michael, I'm sure we will get on well together."