“I’m sorry, Master.”
“You should be boy. Go.”
He went without a thought, obeying the command given by his Master. He had made a mistake and now he must pay the price.
He had met his Master two years earlier, as he celebrated his twenty-third birthday alone at the bar. He had invited all of his so-called friends, and not one had shown up. He was drowning himself in his fourth glass of beer when the Master had arrived.
He had sat down without being invited and immediately taken control of the situation. He was three years older than the Slave, tall, imposing, and commanding in every way. The Slave had gone home with him that night. He moved in six months later, willingly signing a contract that bound him to his Master in all things.
The Slave shivered as he made his way down the wooden stairs to the basement dungeon. He had spent too many hours kneeling on the frigid cement to count. It was not the first time he had faced punishment and he knew what was expected. He selected a blindfold that he hoped would please the Master and knelt, spreading his knees. He slipped the blindfold into place and clasped his hand behind his back, prepared to wait as long as necessary for his Master.
Though it was only ten minutes, it felt much longer for the Slave. As he heard the Master’s footsteps on the stairs he tensed, straightening his back and spreading his legs further. His breathing quickened and he felt as he began to sweat.
The Master did not speak and that only made the Slave more nervous. He could hear the creak of leather as the Master gathered the pieces he would need to fulfill his plan.
“Up.”
The Slave immediately rose to his feet, keeping his legs spread and his hands clasped behind him.
He felt the Masters hands as he caressed his chest, his fingers tweaking his nipples before circling behind him. He grasped the Slaves wrists, placing his hands palm to palm. He knew better than to try and move them. The Master pulled his arms back and he felt as the cool leather of the armbinder slid up his arms. He groaned inwardly, knowing this was not going to be a pleasant night.
The Master took his time, tightening the laces, forcing the Slaves elbows closer and closer together until they finally touched. As the Slave expected, this was followed by thick straps that seemed to force his arms even closer together. He whimpered as his shoulders screamed in protest, but there was nothing he could do.
The Master wrapped a pair of leather cuffs around his ankles and quickly attached a spreader bar, forcing his legs just far enough apart to be uncomfortable.
As he heard the whir of a motor, he knew what was coming next and was not surprised when his arms began to rise, forcing him to bend at the waist. He had just reached to paint of discomfort when the winch stopped, leaving him bent and exposed to anything the Master wanted to do.
Despite his discomfort, he could feel his cock beginning to stir in the steel cage he wore. It wouldn’t be long before that too became uncomfortable.
“Open,” the Master commanded.
Again, the Slave obeyed without question. He was expecting the warm flesh of the Masters cock, but whimpered in disappointment as a rubber cock filed his mouth instead. He gagged a little as it hit the back of his throat but quickly suppressed the reflex as the Master drew the straps around the back of his head. He pulled the straps tight and the Slave heard the irrefutable click of a lock, telling him it would not be coming out anytime soon.
“You’ve displeased me, pet,” the Master said, running a single fingernail down the Slaves spine. “I gave you one simple command, to have supper ready and waiting when I arrived home from work. For the third time this week, you have failed me, and why? Because you were too busy playing video games with your on-line friends. It is past time I remind you of your primary duties.”
The Slave felt himself turning red, he was ashamed and embarrassed. The Master was right. His only purpose in life was to serve his Master. He was not a difficult man, he asked only that the house be kept clean and in order and that meals be prepared and ready when he arrived home from work. In exchange he provided for the Slave, keeping him fed, watered and more often than not, pleasured.
He had spent more nights bound to the Masters bed then he could count, being edged for hours before finally being allowed to orgasm. The Master had trained him well, to pleasure and to serve, but now he had failed and he must be punished.
He moaned softly as the Master reached around and began toying with his nipples. They had always been one of his most sensitive spots and the Master knew it. He let himself melt into the Masters attentions, feeling his nipples as they grew hand under the well-practiced ministrations. He screamed against the gag as pleasure suddenly turned to pain as the Master applied a set of nipple clamps, set to their tightest.
“You are here for punishment boy. My pleasure, not yours.”
The Slave whimpered, nodding his head.
He heard the Master walk behind him and flinched when he felt the Master’s hands caress his ass, a thumb pressing firmly against the plug he always wore. It was slightly smaller than the Master’s own girth, but large enough the Slave could never fully forget its presence.
The Master rubbed his ass for several minutes, spreading his cheeks and fiddling with the plug as the Slave felt his cock hardening in its tube. He bit down hard on the gag as his sensitive cock head met the vicious spikes at the end of the device. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been permitted to come. The past few months had been only been hours of teasing and torture, edged over and over before being forced back into the confining tube. He had been milked, yes, but there was never any pleasure in that, and his cock had reached to point with the slightest touch could bring him to full erection.
The Slave moaned again and Master slapped his ass, hard. He followed it with several more strokes before pausing to admire his handiwork. The Slave could feel the heat, the pain mixed with the pleasure, but he knew his ordeal was far from over.
A moment later, his suspicions were confirmed as he felt the sting of the Masters favorite riding crop, biting into his flesh.
“What do you think, boy? You have had three violations in the past week. I am thinking twenty stripes for each infraction?”
The Slave nodded, knowing it was a rhetorical question. The Master would give whatever punishment he deemed fit, but sixty lashes was more than he had ever received in a session.
The Master seemed to sense his hesitation. “O know you can do it, boy,” he whispered softly. “Make me proud.”
The Slave nodded.
The Riding crop was drawn back and the Slave braced himself for the impact. Even so, it was a surprise when it came. He lurched in his bonds, crying out at the pain, but the Master did not stop until he had reached twenty strokes.
He paused then, rubbing the tortured flesh, his hand feeling like ice on the burning muscle that was his ass. Tears ran freely from his eyes, absorbed by the blindfold.
“Forty more,” the Master whispered.
The Slave nodded, once again trying to prepare himself for what was to come. He whimpered again, shaking his head as he felt the strands of a flogger dance across his burning skin, but there was nothing he could do as the Master delivered the next twenty lashes.
There were only twenty more to go, and the Slave did not know if he could withstand the next twenty, but then the Master was there, reassuring him, comforting him. When the Master sensed he was ready to continue the next twenty strokes were delivered, this time using a thick, heavy paddle.
The Slave was little more than a puddle by the time the las blow had be delivered. The Master quickly unstrapped his arms from the ceiling, lowering him to the ground. He untied the spreader bar but left the rest of the restraints in place as he drew the Slave into his arms, holding and soothing him until the sobbing has stopped and the pain had faded a little.
“On your knees,” the Master whispered.
The Slave did his best to comply, but the Master had to help him get into position. Once he was satisfied, the Master carefully eased the plug from the Slaves ass. A moment later he felt the cold lube as it dripped into his exposed hole and did his best to hold still as the Master pushed the head of his cock past the Slaves sphincter.
He held it there for moment before wrapping his arm around the Slaves waist.
“This is still a punishment,” he said.
Without warning, the Master pushed the entirety of his eight inches into the Slaves hole. He screamed, biting down on the gag as the Master pounded him mercilessly, without pausing or changing rhythm.
Slowly, the pain began to change to pleasure, and he could hear the Master’s breathing change. He knew the Master was close and after a handful of brutal thrusts, he felt the Master’s seed flood his insides. He squirted several times before collapsing and rolling to the side.
The Slave let himself relax, laying on his stomach on the hard cement floor. Every ache and pain made itself know as he lay there, and his cock throbbed futilely in is cage.
It was several minutes before the Master moved again. The Slave winced as he pushed the plug back into his abused hole. The fit was not as tight now, but he knew if he let it slip out there would be more punishment.
He listened as the Master cleaned up the toys he had used, then he was rolled onto his side. The Master fiddled with the front of the gag for a moment and suddenly the Slave could breathe through it.
“I have some water here,” the Master explained. I have put a straw in your gag. I want you to drink it.”
The Slave nodded, happy to obey. He drank until the bottle was empty and the Master pulled it away. He gathered the Slave into his arms and carried him across the room, laying him on a rubberized mat in the corner. He took off the leather straps but left the armbinder in place, rolling the Slave onto his stomach.
The Slave whimpered again as the Master pulled his legs up, clipping them to the end of the armbinder, pulling him into a loose hogtie.
“I’ll be back in the morning, boy. Use this time to think about what you have done.”