Michael

Michael Part 3

I started to walk as quickly as my beaten arse would allow, desperate to find a bar, a café, anywhere where I could buy a drink to cleanse my mouth of the foul taste of Menzies' semen. I hadn't enjoyed my introduction to the fluid last night from Mr. Hunter but his at least had seemed quite bland and easy to stomach. The taste remaining in my mouth was far worse, much more ammonia than my previous experience. My stomach churned as I tried to stop myself being sick.

After what seemed an age I came across a small super-market, dashed in, bought the first can of soft drink I could lay my hand on, pulled the tab and drank half before the can left my lips. My mouth now tasted of some chemists idea of what lemon should be but at least it was far better than before and my stomach calmed now that my mouth was fresher.

I finished the drink before hailing a taxi and giving the driver the city address of the office. Once I was in the cab I slumped in the seat and half dozed, tired out by last nights' lack of sleep and the events of the day.

At the office the glass door opened quietly to admit me. I walked over the polished tiles to the reception desk where the taller of the two girls gave me a smile. She was a red- head with her hair cut close to her scalp, a snub nose and freckles which she tried to hide with too much make-up. In my early days here she had come on strongly to me.

"Good afternoon Mr. Michael, Mr. Evans said you would be along, he's waiting in the cafeteria."

"Fine, would you ask him to bring the car to the front please, I'll wait for him out there. I could do with a breath of air; it's been a hard day".

I smiled inwardly at my accidental choice of words. It had been a particularly slack day of course, as all days would be for me from now on.

I stood on the sandstone steps, feeling the warm sun on my face, a gentle breeze keeping the temperature at an almost ideal level. I looked at the traffic, the people passing by, the sheer normalcy of it all. Less than twenty-four hours ago I had been part of this world, now I was an inhabitant of a darker place, subject to the whims of another, someone who could and would order others to bind and pierce me at his pleasure and would use my body for his sexual gratification when and where it pleased him. I had been plunged into a world where my wishes no longer counted, where my body was the property of another man. But no, to be honest I had not 'been plunged' into this world, that implied the use of some force. I had dived into the world head first, wanting to be controlled, welcoming the humiliation, the degradation, even the pain, as long as the decisions in my life would be made by someone else. Last night with Mr. Hunter had shown me this and even my treatment at the hands of those who had tormented me today had reinforced the knowledge. Even, if I admitted it to myself, my ordeal with the hateful Menzies had seemed…..appropriate. I put a hand inside my jacket and felt the rings in my chest through my shirt and smiled a small smile.

In the midst of these thoughts the Bentley pulled up at the kerb and I took a seat in the back. The partition was closed and Evans' voice came over the intercom to ask where I wanted to go.

"Home" was all I said.

I slept the entire way back, the crunch of gravel and the stopping of the car waking me on our arrival. I went straight to my flat where I was not surprised to find a message from the boss, in his own hand. Just three characters."8.30."

As it was only six o'clock I decided that another nap was indicated. The sleep on the way back had helped a little but I was still dog tired and I didn't know what would be required of my mind or body later that evening. I arranged for the kitchen to have a light meal sent up at eight, then joyfully climbed into bed.

The alarm went at 7.30. I was deeply asleep and was puzzled by the ache in my buttocks and the constriction round my organs until my mind caught up with my body.

I staggered into the bathroom and looked at myself, naked, bleary and dishevelled. The sight of my naked body reminded me of something I had intended to do, but what? Then it occurred to me. Just as I fell asleep I had remembered that Mr. Hunter had a hairless pubic area and I thought it would be for the best if I presented my self in the same manner. Desire to please or just plain crawling? I wasn't worried. If it meant that he would go even a little easier on my poor tortured arse it was worth it. I used the beard trimmer on my razor first, then the foil area and was quite pleased that I ended up with a very smooth finish. With my pubic hair gone, the straps seemed even darker and starker against the white flesh that was now more fully displayed.

I hit the shower, washing more carefully than I had ever done before, ensuring that all those little nooks and crannies were squeaky clean. I shaved equally carefully and then applied anti-perspirant and talc to finish off the job.

Right on eight the bell rang and one of the maids brought in my meal. I wished I had ordered more, as I realised I was ravenous but knew it would be better if my stomach were not too full for whatever lay in store.

I finished eating at eight –fifteen, the tension now starting to rise. I tried not to think about what I might have to undergo this evening but it was no good. Memories of being strapped to the horse, of the agony of my beating, of the abject humiliation as I shuffled forward and licked the anus of my boss would not go away. I cleaned my teeth and a silly thought came to me. If this evening was anything like last and my mouth was used for the same purpose, it wouldn't matter if my breath was fresh or not! I carefully dressed; made sure I had the package for Mr. Hunter and made my way to his quarters.

"At exactly 8.30., heart pounding and feeling more than a little sick I pressed the buzzer.

"Yes?"

"Michael, Sir."

"Come in."

As I opened the door my legs were trembling so much I had difficulty moving at all. With a great effort I got one leg in front of the other and made my way inside. I don't know quite what I was expecting but what I found was Mr.H again sitting at his desk, again going through some paperwork.

"Good evening Michael, go over and take a seat, I'll be with you shortly". I stumbled over to the seat I had occupied the previous evening and sat down. I'd been expecting, what? Barked orders, instructions to strip? And now this. My mind couldn't cope, I sat there feeling numb as he finished his work.

After a few minutes he looked up at me.

"That factory I took over in Taiwan is not performing as well as I'd hoped, remind me in the morning to get the Tokyo office to go down and have a look at it."

'What?' Here I am strung out like a violin string, waiting for pain and goodness only knows what and he's talking about work? And why doesn't he just record the memo as he normally does.

Then it hits me. He's doing this to reassure me in some way.

I gulp down the lump in my throat.

"Very good, Sir"

He puts down his papers, looks at me for what seems ages, then rises and comes over.

I get to my feet as he approaches.

"Would you remove your clothes please?"

Even though I'm expecting something like this I jump at his words, then quickly denude myself…..how many times today?

"Please turn away from me".

I feel his hands gently run over my buttocks, smooth and soft. They belie the strength of his arm. In spite of his gentle touch I flinch.

"It would seem I was somewhat……enthusiastic….. in your chastisement last evening."

'ENTHUSIASTIC?' you damn nigh beat my arse off'

"Yes, Sir" is what I say.

He runs his hands up my back.

"You have such soft skin Michael, so beautiful with the muscles playing beneath it. I am so looking forward to suspending you by your wrists and whipping your back. I have some lovely whips, Michael. May I whip you?"

How can you ask someone to allow them to be whipped by you? I want to yell 'No you bloody well may not, I don't want the pain', but then I see, my submission must be total.

"Yes, Sir" I whisper.

"I didn't hear you Michael, would you repeat that?"

"Yes, Sir" louder this time.

"Michael, you're speaking in notes. I have told you before that you must be specific or people will not understand you. Please tell me what you mean"

He means me to say it all, the hard hearted sod.

"Would you please whip me, Sir."

"Well of course Michael, if you would like me to. It will be my pleasure."

'It certainly won't be mine' chimes the voice in my head.

His hands drop to my buttocks again, his left hand on my left hip, his right fingers in the divide between them. One of his fingers touches my anus. I shudder at the touch.

"No problems here?" I'm sure Menzies has phoned him but he wants it from me.

"No, Sir, a little tender but nothing major."

A dry chuckle, "I should have taken it as a slur on my manhood if you had not been a little tender."

Shit, he's made a joke!!

"I was so glad you were virgin". What can I say to that?

"Speaking of manhood, please turn round."

Very funny Mr. H. You've got me trussed up so I can't even raise a smile and you talk about manhood.

I turn and try to meet his eyes but the green orbs seem to glow with so much power that I drop my gaze.

I see and feel his right hand at my groin. His fingers lift my cock, then my balls. His left hand comes down and feels the straps, his first finger tries to insinuate itself between the strap and my flesh, of course it cannot.

"And this has left you quite……immobilised. ?"

He wants me to say it.

"Yes Sir, I am totally impotent, I cannot achieve an erection" I whisper. He does not pick up on my whispering.

"Good, good, it's not seemly for an employee to have erections in his employers' presence, don't you think?"

"Yes Sir."

"I'm so glad you agree. Menzies did say that with the right…..encouragement, you could, however, ejaculate."

"Yes, Sir."

"Interesting… perhaps if you are very good we might consider letting you have some release, say, once every couple of months?"

The swine, I wank every day and three times a day at the weekend and he's going to let me cum once every couple of months? Still it's better than I expected, which was nothing at all.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Don't thank me yet, you have to earn the privilege. Could be an interesting thing to watch though".

So my bi-monthly cum is going to be a spectator sport. Will he sell tickets for it?

"May I ask a question Sir?"

"Perhaps one would not come amiss but do not make a habit of it in this situation."

"How long do you intend to keep me like this?" My eyes drop to my groin.

"That's really no concern of yours. I will release you when I see fit. We are having a slight problem with cutting gear for this product however, particularly in 'difficult' areas" my heart sank " the R & D people tell me they should have it all solved in two to three years." TWO TO THREE YEARS!!!! "However, they are prone to a somewhat optimistic turn of mind".

Two to three years and maybe more without a hard on, being 'allowed' to cum once every two months,….maybe. What have I let myself in for???!!!!!

He sat down.

"Please assume the military 'at ease position', legs slightly apart, hands clasped behind the back." I did so.

"Good, that is the position you will assume from now on when we have these little 'get togethers'"

"I must say that I was rather taken aback by the enthusiasm you showed last evening, at least for certain parts of the proceedings. I thought you would take rather more 'breaking in' than you did. However, I feel we should resolve certain outstanding points. I told you I have certain needs and desires and that keeping you as a slave will go a long way to fulfilling them. This does not mean that to outsiders there will be any change in our relationship; we will continue to observe the same courtesies between our selves as we have up to now, the only difference will be when we are alone. To the staff you will be the same person and have the same function as you have had. I value your brain and ability too highly to risk having your authority with them undermined.

However….there may be times when I shall require you to give certain services to some of my closest friends. These people will be chosen by me for their ability to keep their own council. They will obviously be people of influence and, equally obviously, I shall expect you to give them your enthusiastic co-operation."

My heart sank. I had only had one experience of sex with a man and now that man was saying he was going to make a whore of me. But then….I had agreed to become a slave to him because I wanted to be controlled, and because of what it brought me, could I honestly complain at paying the going rate?

"May I ask if you have anyone in mind, Sir?"

"You are full of questions tonight! And yes, there are certain people who have expressed an interest in you. A couple of the Arabs on the Gulf deal and a Cabinet Minister who I won't name just yet."

At the mention of the Arabs my sphincter clenched involuntarily. Big heavy men, greasy, with cruel faces. If these men got hold of me I would be in for a bad time.

My dismay must have shown on my face.

"Trust me Michael; I will not put you in danger. Any meetings of the kind we are discussing will take place in controlled circumstances. Should I give anyone the privilege of enjoying you; he will be in no doubt that your attentions to him will go so far and no farther. I reserve for myself the right to…..attend to you in other ways."

My brain reeled. In twenty-four hours I had become a being who was glad that only one man would be able to torture me! I would be given to other men to use me as they wished but the fact that only this man would torture me seemed to bring me comfort. How can a day bring so much change?

"This brings us quite nicely to my next point. I wish to mark your body to signify my ownership of you."

Mark? Why did this ring a bell? Oh shit, "The story of O" where she had his initials burned into the cheeks of her bum! She had screamed with pain and passed out. Does he want to do that to me? And with my flesh in it's battered state surely the pain would be ten times worse? Again I start to sweat, this time with fear.

"What I intend to do is brand you with my initials,"

Oh, no, this was going to be bad. Could I really let him do this?

"I have decided to do this on your penis, for a number of reasons, one of which is that I feel it fitting that you should bear this mark on what is supposedly the symbol of your manhood. I quite like the irony."

Well yes you would. I doubt if I'll enjoy having hot metal placed on my cock quite so much. Still I suppose he can't make big burns down there can he. But despite my fears I still feel a strange excitement, were it not for my straps I would erect.

"Shall we begin?"

"Now?"

"I can think of no better time."

The excitement I felt drains away. He wants to do this NOW! To burn my cock!

It's one thing to fantasise about this, but this is it. Hot metal, searing pain. I feel sick.

He stands and walks over to his desk.

"Here."

As if he's talking to a dog. I draw a deep breath and walk the short distance, my legs again trembling with my fear. Beside the desk there is a cardboard box in which I can see a vice.

"Take the vice and screw it to the desk just in from the end. Use the cloth that's there to protect the wood. Don't want it scratched do we?"

Not only am I to be burned but I have to help in the process!! I do as he says.

"Now, retract your foreskin." Pull back my foreskin? Then it dawns on me!!!

"No, please Sir, not like that. Please do it on the skin, not right on the head."

"What a baby you are." BABY? You want to burn the head of my dick and you call me a baby because I don't want you to? My guts are churning. I look up at him, try to meet his gaze but to no avail. I pull back the skin. The air feels cool on my flesh.

"Now put your penis in the vice, with the head out of the jaws and tighten it."

My shame is complete. He is going to brand my manhood and I am helping him to do it. I don't think I can sink lower than this. I tighten the vice, having to move the handle on each turn so that it clears my body. Very shortly my cock is compressed and is starting to hurt. I stop turning the handle.

"More."

The flesh within the straps compresses further, the pain increases, the jaws of the vice are almost closed.

"That will do." He puts his finger under my cock, tries to lift it from the vice. I groan as the serrations tear at my flesh.

"Excellent. Now hands behind your back". As I comply I feel handcuffs on my wrists. He tightens them. I am held by the vice and cannot move.

He takes a butane torch from the box and lights it, adjusts the flame so it is blue and gently roaring, then takes two further items from the box. He holds them up.

"These are what I shall use. I was anticipating your submission, as you can see."

The irons in the form of his initials are connected to short rods with insulated handles. The letters are quite small, maybe 2cm by 1cm.

"Now we are faced with another decision, how do we place them? Do we put the J on the left or the right? As you can imagine if we put the J on the left they read correctly from your perspective but if we put the J on the right they will be correct for others reading them. What do you think?"

The mean old bastard. It's not enough he has to give me the physical pain; he wants to draw out the mental anguish as well.

"I don't know Sir. Please, please just do it!"

"What a fine submissive you are. To ask me to brand such a tender part of your body." The pain from my crushed flesh is becoming quite severe and the head of my cock is turning blue.

"The J on the right!!" I am calling down agony on myself, but anything to get this over.

"If you say so." He places the cold iron on my glans, I shiver at its' touch. He adjusts the position slightly then makes a couple of marks at the top and bottom, I assume they're to act as a guide.

He holds the iron in the flame. It quickly turns from grey to red. He withdraws it, moves it towards my immobile cock. Sweat pours from me, I tremble, my knees knock. He holds the iron so close that I can feel the heat; I can feel him watching me. He withdraws the iron, maybe he's only playing with me, maybe even he can't do this. My stomach flips as he replaces the iron in the flame of the torch. In seconds it is glowing red again. This time he brings it straight to my body, I look down, I couldn't look away. He pauses for a second and once more I feel the heat from the metal. He makes sure the iron is aligned with his marks then drives it on to the head of my cock.

Even though I am prepared for the pain, I'm not prepared for the severity of it. A cry, part gasp, part scream, part groan is wrenched from my mouth. My body spasms, the organism trying to escape from the agony of the burning iron on my flesh but the steel jaws of the vice hold me fast. More pain as the base of my organ is wrenched as the body seeks escape but my cock is held fast. My wrists are abraded by the handcuffs as my hands try to shoot round my body to shield the so-sensitive flesh. A wisp of vapour rises and I smell burnt meat. I want to pass out but daren't for fear of what would happen if I fell. The iron is only on me for seconds which feel like centuries, when he withdraws it. Through the tears of pain I see my flesh pull away slightly with the iron, as if it wishes to continue the searing caress.

I stand, gasping, trembling, mucous running from my nose and over my lips. He calmly makes his preparations for my second agony, makes his marks, heats the second iron, leans slightly over the desk and plunges it on to the other side of my glans. I have tried to be brave but this time a full blown scream is dragged from my lips. Again the body spasms tear at the root of my tool. I so want to faint but my concentration on staying on my feet helps me bear the pain.

Immediately he has burned his second initial into my cock he works the handle of the vice, As soon as I am free my knees buckle and I sink to the floor. He kneels behind me and unfastens the cuffs. I bring my right hand round my body and very gingerly grasp the area of pain that is my sex. I wipe the tears from my eyes and look down. On the head are the charred initials J & H, one on each side of the slit. I sob with pain and humiliation. He will give me no respite though. This is what I have chosen for myself.

"Go into the bathroom and compose your self." I stagger across the floor, holding myself all the while, and into the brief peace of its' cool whiteness. I run water into the basin and wash my face then use one of his soft towels to dry myself. The pain of my branding seems to travel the length of my member and down into my balls. They ache with a dull ache as if I'd been kicked, while the brands send waves of searing agony to my brain.

I re-enter the study, I only want to get this hellish evening over.

"You have a package for me."

I remember it now. My mind has been otherwise occupied for some time. I go over to my clothes and remove the parcel from the pocket of my trousers and hand it to him. He turns away to open it, then turns back to me. In his hand is some light, gold coloured chain.

"Here, and at ease."

I stand in the position he wants. He attaches one end of the chain to my right nipple ring with a small clasp, then the other end to my left ring. In the middle of the chain is a loop to which more chain is connected. He feeds this down through the navel ring and I see it divides into two. He then picks up my cock and holds it up against my belly then pulls upwards on the two rings in my foreskin. The skin comes forward and covers my burned glans and I gasp at the ache this causes. He now finishes his task by attaching the two foreskin rings to the hanging chain, leaving me with my cock up against my belly, hanging from the chain leading up to the horizontal chain between my nipples, the rings dragging the foreskin up at the sides. I looked down my body, the chain between my nipples, my opened foreskin like a small wrinkled tunnel and felt only despair.

"And now, It's time for a little relaxation don't you think?" He leads me through the room that contains the horse and into a bedroom. All blond wood and mirrors. Light and airy. On the bedside cabinet are condoms a tube of lube.

He carefully undresses and lies face up on the bed. He is rampant. He looks at me, still standing by the bedside.

"Well?"

I know what's wanted of me, of course. There is only one use for a slave to a man naked on a bed. I wearily lie down beside him and take his member in my hand, lower my mouth down to enfold it. He sighs as my warm wetness enfolds him; I use my tongue on the head of his manhood and begin to raise and lower my head slowly to begin the journey to his ultimate pleasure.

"Enough. Condom"

I feel so tired and my brain doesn't grasp his meaning. I leave his cock and look up at him.

"Condom!" he barks again, his eyes going to the cabinet.

I don't understand why he should want to use a condom when he shot his semen into my mouth last evening but I'm just too tired to care. I unwrap one of the rubbers and slide it down over his erection.

"Lube." The light dawns. I lube the condom.

"Now yourself".

I lie face down, try to part my buttocks without catching any of last nights wheals but give a gasp as I fail. I squirt lube in the general direction of my anus, then use my fingers to complete the job, poking one of them into my hole to ease the way as much as possible.

When I finish I lie with my legs open, waiting his pleasure.

"Mount."

Again my tired brain fails to grasp what he wants. I look up at him and he looks down his body to his rampant organ.

"Mount, damn you."

The meaning of his words crashes in on me, the final indignity, I must impale my self on him. I get to my knees and straddle his hips. My hand goes down to find his erection. I ease it upright and adjust my position so that I feel the head of his weapon at my entrance. I ease myself down until I feel the stretching of my sphincter begin, then put both hands on my thighs to help me control my descent. Gently, gently, I ease my way down. I look down at him, his eyes are closed but a triumphant smile is on his face.

My muscle ring still aches from its' rape last night. I try to breathe deeply and relax but the tearing ache mounts as I am forced to take him into my body again. Suddenly the ache lessens a little as his head slips past the tight ring and I feel my bowel fill with him. I want to bear down and push him out but I know that I must do the opposite and at last I feel my cheeks on his thighs. I rest for a moment to allow my body to adjust to the intrusion, then begin my slow dance, impaled to the hilt.

As I look up, I catch sight of myself in a mirror. The gold metal in and hanging from my body gleams in the soft light. My branded cock is held up against my body in an obscene parody of an erection. Pain fills my lower body. I wink at my reflection.

The end.