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."

Michael Part 2

I spent a very restless night. Despite taking all the painkillers I dared, every time I moved and particularly when I tried to roll over, my beaten arse sent waves of agony through my body. I had been dismissed from Mr. Hunters' presence as soon as I made my final obeisance to him and staggered back to my flat, praying that none of the security guards would see me and ask what was wrong.

During the long wakeful periods of the night my mind constantly went over the happenings of the evening and what my life might now become. Why had I allowed this to happen? Deep down I realised that no matter how I might rationalise it, the truth was that I wanted it. I had wanted this sort of a relationship, where I would be controlled and forced to subjugate my wishes to those of another but at the same time I would be looked after and all my material needs would be supplied. That this should happen with a man like my boss was something I'd never even dreamed of. The beating was horrible, no signs of the "endorphin rush" I'd read about on the BDSM websites. It was all pure pain and suffering but then again, something in my mind wanted to experience it again!

Around six in the morning I gave up trying to sleep and limped into the shower. As I washed myself I gingerly allowed my fingers to stroke my tortured buttocks. I was sickened by the ridges in my flesh and the pain that the touch of my own fingers brought to me. When I had dried myself I plucked up the courage to look at myself in the mirror. As I looked over my shoulder at the ruin of my arse I gave an involuntary gasp. It was as if cans of red, blue and black paint had been spread over my flesh, the colours mixing and merging from the base of my spine to the tops of my thighs. On the right side of my right buttock there was a particularly bad bruise that had wept blood but had scabbed over during the night. For a moment I couldn't think why this should be, and then it dawned on me that this was where the tip of the cane must have been biting into my body.

I took more painkillers and limped, naked, back into the flat. I hoped that if I kept as still as I could the bleeding wouldn't restart. I couldn't imagine what the housekeeper was going to make of the bloodied sheets! I walked to the window, looking out across the expanse of parkland that surrounded the house. Frequently I would run there first thing in the morning but most certainly not this morning!

My normal routine, when he was at home, was to go to Mr. Hunters study at seven each morning with the list of the days' appointments. He would then brief me on anything he felt I needed to know, maybe over coffee and a light breakfast if he was feeling in an expansive mood. Although the events of last evening must obviously have altered our relationship tremendously, I was still his PA and had had no orders to change the normal run of events. This being the case at six forty-five I dressed with great difficulty. Trying to put on pants and trousers while not letting them touch your skin is not easy. By seven I was outside the door of the study where my whole life had changed so drastically just a few hours before. Once again I pressed the intercom.

"Yes?"

"Michael, Sir".

"Come in."

My heartbeat quickened as I pushed open the door. What would my reception be? I need not have worried; it was as if last evening had never happened. My boss sat behind his desk in one of his many chalk stripe suits. He looked up as I walked across the floor, trying not to limp.

"Good morning Michael, how are you this morning?"

Many replies raced through my head at his question but discretion proved the better part of valour and I confined myself to a neutral "Fine, Sir". His lips twisted in a thin smile at that.

"So what have we this morning?"

I quickly ran through his list of appointments for the day. These were already down-loaded to his palm pilot so it was purely a formality. When I had finished he studied me for a few moments then seemed to reach some sort of conclusion.

"I will not require your services for the rest of the day. Get one of the secretaries to cover anything you think may require cover. I want you to be at Dr. Menzies in Harley Street at nine-thirty prompt. You will do whatever he tells you to do. Understand? Oh, and you can take the Bentley. Tell the chauffeur to drop you in Harley Street then pick him up at the office later. It may save some tittle tattle below stairs".

I knew that Menzies was Mr. Hunters' doctor, he had in fact examined me before I got my job but why would he want to see me? And more sinisterly, why should the boss emphasise that I was to do what he told me? I was very tempted to ask for an explanation but from the way Mr. H was looking at me I thought better of it.

"Very good Sir. Is that all?"

"For now, I shall see you …later". He drew out the pause before the final word. I shuddered with something I couldn't place. Fear? Anticipation? Lust?

He dropped his gaze to the papers on his desk and I took this as a sign of dismissal and walked out of the room.

It only took a few moments once I was back in my flat to arrange the cover necessary and to tell the chauffeur I would need him at eight for the run to town. I tried to grab a bite of breakfast but my mind was now churning over what this appointment with the doctor could entail. I had no real idea but something told me it might not be too pleasant.

On the stroke of eight I walked out of the front door as the Bentley pulled smoothly to a stop. I love this car, it's only a few months old and the smell of new leather is beautiful. The morning papers were on the back seat waiting for me, so as we made our sedate way through the countryside I caught up on world events. It proved to be rather a slack day for news and soon my thoughts came back yet again to my present situation. What would the chauffeur, now what's his name, got it, Evans, think if he could see the state of my rear? What would the guy on the bicycle that we've just passed think if he knew I'd fellated and been buggered by the man who did it last night?

Once again, why am I doing this? I can stop it all now by telling Evans to stop the car and let me out. Mr. Hunter will make things difficult for me but I could get over it given time. I wouldn't be beaten and used as a sex toy; I could lead a normal life.

Then from deep down comes the answer. I'm here because I want to be here, to be a slave to this man. It's what I've always wanted since I was in my first school and dreamed of being kept in a cage at the front of the class. This opportunity has come my way and I have to follow the path to see where it leads. The stories on the BDSM sites tell of people being kept as slaves in squalor but here I am, a slave in luxury.

Evans is good at his job; he wouldn't be working for Mr. H if he wasn't and we slid to a stop outside Dr. Menzies consulting rooms just before nine-thirty.

"I'll pick you up at the office when I'm finished in town". He nodded in acknowledgement and pulled away into the traffic.

The doctors' receptionist was a motherly looking lady who was obviously expecting me.

"Good morning, the doctor will see you straight away". She came out from behind the antique table which served her as a desk and walked across the deep pile carpet to the door leading to the doctors' lair. She knocked gently and opened the door.

"The gentleman you are expecting, doctor", then pushed open the door for me to enter, closing it behind me.

Menzies seemed to be five or ten years older than the boss but where Mr. Hunter was tall and lean this man was short and fat, his hair only a grey fringe just over his ears. His face was quite red as if he had a liking for the bottle and a pair of half moon glasses perched on the end of his nose. As he looked at me his eyes had a cruel glint.

"So John Hunter got you, eh. He's been talking about taking you ever since you started to work for him; in fact you were specially picked for this purpose. Just so we understand each other, he and I go back for many years, in fact we were at school together. We share, shall we say, the same interests and I'm only doing what I'm doing today to oblige him as it would be difficult for him to arrange this kind of thing without him being recognised, which would cause some scandal no doubt. Now strip."

Fear coiled in the pit of my stomach as he said that but Mr. Hunter had told me to obey Menzies so I quickly slipped out of my clothes.

He looked me up and down.

"I will say you're not a bad looking specimen, John wanted the toned and lean type, it was just a matter of finding the right mind set in the right body. Now turn round and let me see how he dealt with you."

I felt my face redden with humiliation as I turned and let him see the results of my flogging. He gave a low whistle.

"Old John certainly gave it you didn't he? The way he's been mooning about you for the last couple of months I didn't think he'd have the heart to. I'm pleased to see that you got a real beating; I told him you would need it. Now turn round and face me." I did as he ordered.

"Now, you are here today because you disgraced yourself by allowing this thing" and he flicked the nails of his right hand backhand across my cock, "to experience an erection in the presence of your Master. We must do something about this. What do you suggest?" This isn't the sort of question I was expecting and I was somewhat lost for words.

"Well boy, if you have no ideas, perhaps I might suggest one?"

"Yes Sir" was all I could think of to say.

"How about we cut off the whole sorry lot, testicles and all, that should cure the problem?"

My blood ran cold, here I was, naked in a doctors' consulting rooms and he is talking of castrating me!! Surely he can't mean it. …. Can he? I look down at him. He looks back at me with that cold cruel gleam in his eyes.

He grabs my cock and balls in his left hand and drags them away from my body, then with his right forefinger pretends to use a knife to excise them.

"Well boy" he repeats, "how would you like that?" My mind is in turmoil, Mr. Hunter told me to obey this mans orders but surely he can't want me castrated here and now?

I gulp to swallow the lump that has formed in my throat.

"I don't think I would like that Sir".

"I don't think I would like that Sir" he mimics me.

"What a miserable little cock sucker you are, a man would be way down the street by now". He squeezes and pulls my balls viciously. I groan and my hands come down on top of his to stop the torment.

"Put your hands on your head".

I look down at him but his eyes have no mercy in them. Slowly I clasp my hands on top of my head.

"Keep them there".

He looks into my eyes and slowly increases the pressure on my testicles. I groan and my knees start to buckle. He begins to twist my scrotum. I bite my lip to keep from screaming at the awful grinding pain. He keeps me in agony for a few moments then lets go..

"Maybe John will be able to make something of you" he says contemptuously.

"Don't worry little man, I've been told to leave you intact, although what use that small thing is to you I do not know. If I had my way I'd have it all away ASAP." I thank my lucky stars that it won't be his wishes that govern my fate.

"John is too soft to do that, so I came up with a more….humane …..way round your problem."

"Stretch out that mini cock and balls of yours, boy". Very gingerly I do as he says, my balls still radiate pain. He opens a draw of his desk and takes something out.

"Now you just stay as you are, understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

He puts what seems to be a black strap round both my scrotum and cock, as near to the body wall as he can. He seems to feed the end of the strap into a bulge on its' length and then uses some form of tool in what seems to be a twisting motion. Gradually I feel the strap contract round my organs. He tightens it until it digs into my flesh then stops. He then slides another strap over my cock to its' base and tightens that and finishes by putting a third strap on my cock just below the glans. He looks at the straps for a few moments and then tightens them again. The flesh of my cock is bulging out between the two straps but there is no pain.

"As you can see, the object of this exercise is to restrict the flow of blood to your organs to prevent erection but not so far as to do damage. This is why I came to be involved in the charade. I will have to monitor this arrangement for a time to make sure the blood supply is sufficient. In case you were wondering, these are a new type of hose clip manufactured by one of the Korean companies. They are a plastic compound so you won't set off the bells and whistles at airports. They are also very strong, how you will get them off I don't know but that's not my problem."

The two straps round my cock seemed to constrict it an awful lot but were not painful, just exerting a pressure on it.

Menzies took a thermometer from a glass on the desk and, taking my cock in his left hand, used the right one to push the thermometer into the meatus until it was stopped by the constriction of the strap. He left it for a while then removed it and noted the temperature.

"Come over here." I followed him across the room, the strap round cock and balls had made them somehow fuller and rounder and I was conscious of them brushing against my thighs. He took me to a machine which he switched on and then took out what seemed to be two probes. I instinctively backed away, thinking he was going to use an electric current to cause me pain. He saw my movement and snorted derisively.

"I'm not going to hurt you, this machine listens to the blood flow in veins and arteries." He applied the probes to the glans of my cock, one on either side and there was a whoosh-whoosh sound from a loudspeaker. He then used the probes in various places round my scrotum and every time there was the same sound. He grunted, then led me back to the desk where he tightened all the straps a little.

"John wants me to do a medical on you while you're here so we'll get to it now." He did a very thorough examination of me, took bloods and I also had to give him a urine sample which came slowly because of the straps.

"I suppose I'd better check to see if he tore you last night." I reddened to think that all the details of my initiation had been given to this man.

"Bend over and spread 'em." I did so and felt the warmth from a light as he examined my anus.

"That's OK."

I straightened up and he used the thermometer and machine again to gauge the blood flow in my constricted organs, after which he again tightened the straps which were beginning to feel very restrictive. My balls seemed a darker colour than usual but I could only assume this man new what he was doing.

"I have patients to see, so go away and come back in one hour and I'll check the flow again."

I quickly dressed and left the premises. The day outside was fine and warm, the good weather had brought out many people, including a fair number of young girls, not a few of them wearing very short skirts. I looked at them with a twinge of regret at the path I was now following but the restriction I could feel brought home the fact that my very sexuality was now in the hands of someone else. One particularly good looking girl in a cafe gave me a smile and I was very, very tempted to drop my pants, just to see her reaction to the straps binding me. I didn't of course.

I was back in the waiting room fifty-five minutes after I had left it. Menzies shortly appeared, ushering an overweight woman in a flowery dress out of the consulting room. He saw me waiting and motioned for me to enter. When the door was shut he told me to drop my pants. As he pushed the thermometer into me I saw that the head of my cock seemed to be an angry purple colour, far deeper that its' usual pink. He noted the temperature and took me over to the machine for the sound readings. The whooshing noise seemed fainter to me. He ran his hand over his chin in a thoughtful manner then loosened the straps a little and repeated the sound test. The noise from the speaker seemed back to its' previous volume.

He looked at his watch.

"Right, I think we're just about there. It's now just on noon. I want you back here at two –thirty but there's something for you to do to fill in your lunch hour." He wrote something on a pad and handed me the sheet.

"Go to this address, give them your name and do exactly as they tell you."

"Is that all, can't you tell me anything more?"

"Just remember that in this situation you are a slave to all in authority over you, which would mean almost anyone. Now go."

I took a taxi to the address, which I knew was in Soho. The usual London lunch time smells of greasy hotdogs and onions flooded into the cab. I was dropped outside a door between two movie houses, both showing blue films. A sign over the door told me it was a 'Body modification salon" and the stairs that lead upwards were lined with pictures of tattooed people of both sexes. Oh, please no. Don't make him want to have me tattooed.

At the top of the stairs was a reception desk complete with a no longer young woman with scroll like tattoos over her face. She jerked her head back to show I had her full attention.

"What kin I do fer yer?"

I gave her my name and said I thought I was expected. She looked at me for a moment in total incomprehension and then the light dawned. She turned and shouted over her shoulder,

"'ere 'arry, there's the one that that weird doc phoned abart." My heart sank.

'arry appeared, a gross man wearing leather trousers and a leather waistcoat, open across a chest covered in tattoos. He had a bald head and a bushy beard and was eating a burger from a greasy piece of paper.

"So, you're 'im then. Get your gear off."

"Do you mean right here, in front of this lady?"

"That's no lady, that's my wife." And he doubled over laughing at the old joke.

I glanced back down the stairs. I could see the lower legs of the passers by and anyone looking into the door couldn't fail to see what was happening at the top.

"Can't I go inside please?"

"I was told to get you stripped 'ere and that if you didn't do what I tell yer I can punish yer."

Whatever slavery might entail, it was providing plenty of humiliation today. I took off my outer clothes and stood in my pants, trying to make a decision. If I faced the desk my strapped up organs would face 'arrys wife and my beaten arse would face down the stairs, or I could turn and have things the other way round. In the end I just went for it and dropped the pants. 'arrys wifes' eyes rounded like saucers.

"'ere 'arry, look at his wedding tackle, 'ees all trussed up like a bleedin' chicken".

She dashed round from behind the desk and grabbed my organs, lifting my cock so she could properly see the straps enclosing it.

"You can't be much good to anybody with that lot on sunshine. Bet you can't even get a hard on." I lowered my eyes. She was right of course.

"Leave the poor bleeder alone Nancy, 'ees spendin' money" said her husband.

You just leave yer gear wiv' 'er, it'll be OK, then come this way."

As I turned to follow 'arry, the inevitable happened and my arse faced the lovely Nancy. Once again the shrill voice screeched.

"'ere 'arry, look at 'is arse. It looks as somebodys' done 'im over good". She shot round in front of me.

"You some kind of bleedin' pervert are yer?" At that moment I wished I had never heard of Mr. Hunter, BDSM, slavery or anything that didn't tread the straight path. I muttered something at her and followed the gross form of her husband through the door.

I entered a small room lined with more pictures of the tattooed human form. At one end was a large chair that looked as if it had served many years in a dentists' surgery before falling on hard times.

'arry motioned for me to stand in the middle of the floor. He walked over to a table on which stood some instruments I preferred not to think about, and a small filing cabinet. He started to rummage through the cabinet.

"Where's that bleedin' piece of paper?" he asked himself. "I dunno. I'll lose me bleedin' 'ead next." With that he started to feel in the pockets of his greasy waistcoat and eventually produced an equally greasy piece of paper. He read the paper and then looked up at me.

"Do you know what they want done to you?"

"Is it…is it….. tattooing?"

"Naw mate, just a bit of piercing, sod all really." I breathed a sigh of relief, at least piercings weren't permanent, and then it occurred to me that I was glad to be 'only' pierced. Too many things were happening too quickly.

"Where are you going to do it?"

"Can't tell you that mate, it says 'ere", and he held up the paper, "you've just got take 'em as they come an' if you give me any grief I can 'chastise you as I deem fit'". He smiled at the choice of words.

"Right then, let's get on with it",

He walked over to what I hoped was a steriliser and took out some things like pliers, then opened a cupboard and took out a bottle and cotton wool. He came over and stood before me then rubbed alcohol on both my nipples. With dirty finger nails he pulled my left nipple away from my chest, put the 'pliers' against the base of it and grasped the handles. There was a sudden stabbing pain and I was left with a small plastic tube piercing my flesh. He then picked up a gold ring from the table and threaded it through the tube, then pushed the tube out of my flesh and finally off the ring, then using a magnifier, joined the two ends of the ring which seemed to give a small 'click' as they joined.

"Bleedin' good gear this mate, can't see the join".

He then proceeded to pierce my other nipple and then motioned me to the chair, which he reclined when I was seated.

He next sterilised my navel and pierced it but used two rings, one threaded on the other so that the loose one was lying against my body. I looked down my body and saw the two rings at my nipples and the ones in my navel and had difficulty in believing that this was happening to me. They did look good though, the shining gold against my brown skin!

"Kay, now we come to the 'ard bit. You got to 'ave two rings through that foreskin. Nah there's lots of veins and fings dahn there so if you don't want to risk me nicking one I strongly suggest you give me some 'elp".

This was becoming surreal. I was now being pierced at the orders of someone else and I was being asked to help in the job! My mind was numb.

"What do you want me to do?"

He moved a lamp and put in on a small table at the side of the chair.

"Stretch out your foreskin so the light shines through it, then I can see what I'm doing." For some reason I expected he wanted to pierce the top and bottom of the foreskin and held it accordingly.

"Nah, mate, the sides". I put my thumbs inside the foreskin, my first fingers on the outside and pulled it up and away from my cock.

"Great, won't be a tick." With that there was again the stabbing pain in the right side of my foreskin but this time it was different, if I hadn't been strapped I would have had an erection.

"Nah the other side". He shifted the lamp round the chair and again I held my flesh for the piercing gun. This time he took longer finding a suitable place and I was starting to sweat with anticipation when once more there was the biting pain of the needle going though my body.

"Just one more" and I felt alcohol on my scrotum, then quickly his fingers picked up a fold of skin in the centre of my sac, I felt the jaws of the gun hold it and for the last time the stab of the needle.

"All done. Want to have a look in the mirror over there?"

I staggered from the chair to the mirror and stared at my reflection, The rings gleamed softly against my skin, the ones in the end of my cock contrasting with the black of the straps. They looked so sensual. I could feel the straps seem to tighten as my body tried to erect but there was not enough blood flow to allow it. I remained flaccid. I had hoped that Menzies might be wrong and that I could become hard but then I realised that it was only fitting that this function of my body should be subject to Mr. Hs' control. I lifted my cock and saw the final ring standing out from my scrotum, a last confirmation of my slavery.

"Just another couple of things and you're on yer bike". I turned to him, wondering what was to happen next. To my surprise he produced a tape measure from his pocket and measured the distance between my nipples, then the distance downwards from a point between them to another point on my belly and noted them down. He then gave me a sheet of paper with details of how to look after the piercings until they healed properly.

"You're due back at the docs' at half-two?" I confirmed I was. "Should be enough time".

"Sorry I don't understand, time for what?"

"None of your business, now go out the front and get dressed then piss off."

"Do I need to pay you?"

"No it's sorted." He looked at me with seemed to be sadness.

"Pity a young well set up fella like you gets into this sort of thing, now sod off."

I collected my clothes from the lovely Nancy and donned them before anyone looked up the stairs but not before she had insisted on examining all her husbands work.

There was now about an hour to go before my next appointment with the doctor so I grabbed a sandwich before getting a cab back to his place.

I was in the waiting room again at one twenty-five. The motherly receptionist told me the doctor would be back soon and quite shortly he came in the front door and with a nod of his head indicated I should enter the consulting room.

I quite expected his first word when the door was closed.

"Strip", I'd lost count of the number of times I'd been in and out of my clothes today.

When I was naked he again did his blood flow tests.

"Well that's fine; we can consider this a good job well done. Just one more thing."

With that he reached into the top draw of the desk and took out the three tools he had used to tighten the straps. He inserted the first one into the strap round my cock and balls and then quickly snapped off the end of it in the tightening device, then did the same with the other two straps. He looked up at me with a twisted grin.

"That, boy, is an anti-tamper device. Remember I said this morning I didn't know how you would get them off? Well now there's no way except cutting them off and as of yesterday the factory haven't been able to move them." My heart hit my boots. I'd thought that these straps would be only there for a short time and that the boss would take them off, maybe when he felt I'd learned my lesson. I'd never anticipated they would be there…..for ever?

Again he looked at me with that sly cruel smile and picked up his phone. When he got a reply the conversation was a short one.

"You free?" A squawk from the handset.

"Can you come over right away?" Squawk.

"Use the side entrance." Squawk. With that he broke the connection.

He walked over to me.

"Let's take a look at these piercings." With that he reached out to the ring in my left nipple, pulled it gently, and then rotated it through my flesh. When he finished that one he did the other nipple and the ring in my navel, then sat down in his chair.

"Come here and let me see the others."

I stood in front of him.

"Now hold up that wee thing so I can see the ones in the end." I held my bound member in my right hand and he repeated the performance.

"Now up against your belly." I held my cock flat to my stomach while Menzies examined the ring in my scrotum.

"OK, that's all. You can put it down now. That man and his wife are awful people but he does know his job when it comes to piercing."

Just then a buzzer sounded, low and discreet. He looked at his watch.

"That was quick." He looked up at me.

"You stay just as you are." He got up and walked across to a door behind me. I heard him open it, then the sound of his steps before the opening of another door. There was some muffled conversation I couldn't catch but what sounded to be a womans' voice, before more footsteps and the closing of the door to the room. I felt drained and dejected. Yet another person to see me naked, to make fun of my straps and piercings. Was this day never going to stop humiliating me?

"Well, well, what have we here?"

A womans' voice, pleasant, low. Smell of perfume.

"It's not good manners to keep your back to our guest, turn and greet her."

His voice was sarcastic. It would do no good to tell him that it was he who told me to stay as I was. As I turned my hands went protectively and instinctively to cover my groin.

"Hands by your sides, damn you."

As I removed my hands the second pair of female eyes this day widened as she saw my bound state and took in the rings in my body. In my turn I looked at her, maybe thirty years old, pleasant square face, dark curly hair, good figure.

"Show our guest the other ring." I looked at Menzies but it was obvious I would have to do as he said. Feeling desperately ashamed I again meekly lifted my cock against my belly to reveal the last ring.

"I guess that answers my original question" she said, then turned to the doctor.

"I knew you were into BDSM but I never knew you were into boys."

"I'm not; I'm just making sure the strapping round what he would call a cock won't castrate him. He actually belongs to an old chum of mine."

"Was it you that beat him?"

"No, that was his owner. I would never have believed the man had it in him to do it. It just goes to show what people will do when their passions are roused."

"Tell me about it!"

"You can put that thing down now." While they had been discussing me I had dutifully kept my cock against my belly.

"So what can I do for you?" the woman asked Menzies.

"I know that this strapping will stop his little penis from erecting but I suddenly wondered if he could still ejaculate."

"And you want me to find out?" she looked up at him. "You can really be very sick sometimes."

"Not at all. You have the best oral technique in the city and I thought you might regard it as a bit of a challenge to see if you can get him to produce despite all that strapping."

"You're all heart" she replied sarcastically. She looked up at me in a calculating way, "might be a bit of a giggle though".

During their conversation my mind started to race. If I did cum what would happen. Would the strapping mean that some of the semen vessels would be damaged? Could my balls actually explode?

"No, please don't do this." They both turned to me. "I might be hurt because of the strapping and then the pressure as my balls contract might damage something else."

I was gibbering because of my fright.

"Nobody asked your opinion and in my medical opinion I don't think anything will go wrong. That's assuming you even manage to ejaculate."

"Please, you don't know. " I clutched at a straw. "If you damage me my owner won't be happy". I didn't want to use his name in front of this woman. My mind was producing horrid pictures of me clutching a bloody mass that been my scrotum. I would try anything to stop this going ahead.

"You will do as you are told or I shall tell your owner how useless you are and recommend he has you ……removed."

Would Mr. Hunter do this on this on this mans say so.? Menzies did say they went back a long way together. I looked at Menzies, his eyes were hard. I dropped mine in surrender.

"Sit in the chair." I did as I was ordered, trembling with fear.

"Sheila, it's all up to you now. Your professional reputation is at stake."

She came and knelt in front of me, then gently used her hands on the inside of my knees to spread my thighs. She shuffled up between them and looked up at me.

"Cheer up, men pay masses of money for what you're going to get for free."

"I wasn't reassured by her words but the proximity of her mouth and my cock was starting to have an effect on me. The strapping round my body tightened. She reached up and pushed back my foreskin but because of the binding she could only get it back just over the glans. She took it into her mouth, the hot wetness of it brought a groan from my lips. She started to suck on it, to move her mouth as far as she could and to use her tongue to lave the glans. The strapping on my body tightened still more as my body tried to pump blood into my cock but to no avail. I remained flaccid. Her fingers played lightly along my shaft and over my balls. I didn't know whether to be glad or sorry at the efficacy of the straps. The feel of her mouth and the touch of her fingers were very pleasant but nothing else was happening!

After a few minutes she looked up at the doctor and let my cock fall from her mouth.

"This isn't getting anywhere, you can see he's as limp as an old rag and I'm getting an ache in my jaw."

"Keep going for a little longer, I'll make it worth your while".

She took me in her mouth again and recommenced her ministrations. I suddenly became aware that they were having an effect! My hips came off the chair as instinct tried to push my floppy member into her mouth. I felt as if I were arguing with myself.

'You can't cum, you'll hurt yourself.' 'I need to I can't stop it.' I was terrified of what might happen if I came but the lust was boiling in me. I gripped the arms of the chair to try to prevent myself from doing what I wanted to do more than anything in the world. Sheila sensed I was near and re-doubled her efforts. No, no ,no, I can't do this, I dare not. Then a half cry, half groan was wrenched from my lips, part fear of coming pain, part relief as my balls contracted and my semen was ejected from them. I went rigid, waiting for the pain as vessels burst under the strain but all that happened was blessed relief as my semen left my cock and entered Sheilas' working mouth. For a few seconds I could not believe that what I had so feared had not happened and that I was still intact and then I slumped in the seat, worn out by fear and lust.

The woman took her mouth from me and swallowed.

"Well that proves he can still do it."

"Very exciting." Said Menzies sarcastically. "Would you say there was the volume you would expect?"

"He might have been a bit down perhaps but nothing out of the ordinary. And you are going to owe me big time for this. My jaw feels as if it's dislocated."

She stood up, winked at me and blew me a kiss. Menzies opened a desk draw and withdrew an envelope, took out what seemed to me a large sum of money and gave it to her. She quickly riffled through it and gave a low whistle.

"Anytime I can be of service!" She walked to the door and the doctor followed, showing her off the premises I expected. I stayed slumped in the seat. I felt like hell. These two had just manipulated me as part of an experiment. I didn't really exist for them except as a dick and a pair of balls to be used to find the answer to a question.

He came back into the room and shut the door.

"Get out of that bloody chair!"

I wearily scrambled to my feet. He sat down.

"As you no doubt heard me say to the young lady, I am not 'into' boys. I have just spent a good sum of money on you though, and I think I should like a return on it."

I looked at him; my fuddled brain didn't make any connections.

He rose, quickly pushed his trousers and pants to his ankles and sat down. He had a huge erection.

"Now do something about that." I thought of all the things I would like to do with it, top of my list was excision using a rusty hacksaw blade but I knew such thoughts would do me no good. He held all the cards, I was nothing. This was not so much about his pleasure as my degradation.

I knelt between his legs and took his tool in my right hand, steadying it as I brought my mouth down to engulf it. It smelled of stale urine and tasted vile. I had to stifle a reflex to gag. I knew that for my own good I must get this over as soon as possible. I formed my lips into a tight 'O' and worked them quickly up and down his shaft, at the same time licking the head with my tongue and using my hand up and down his length. He came quickly, grunting like a pig as he filled my mouth with his seed. I made myself hold him in my mouth until he was totally spent and I had swallowed all, then removed my mouth and gently lowered his shrinking weapon. I kept my eyes fixed on the head of his cock, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"That was the worst fucking blow job I've had in my life. Why John Hunter wants you I'm buggered if I know but you can fuck off back to him as soon as you like."

As quickly as I could I gathered my things and dressed and, still not meeting his eyes, let myself out into the waiting room.

The motherly lady smiled at me, what would she think of the events that had taken place just a few yards from her?

"There's been a package delivered here for Mr. Hunter, to be taken by your hand. Here it is."

She held out a small parcel.

"Thank you, I'll make sure he gets it."

And I walked out into the bright day.

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.