Date: Tue, 6 Jan 2009 08:53:52 +0000
From: Rapier 54 <rapier54@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Peters Exposures Part3: Peter the Thief

Peter The Thief

Copyright @ Rapier54 2009

Disclaimer: This is a fictional story depicting sexual activity between
consenting adults and a younger male. If this is illegal from where you are
reading it please do not continue. This being fiction, safe sex is not an
issue. In the real world always practice safe sex.


....."Erotic Items for sale. Would suit consistently recalcitrant
submissive male / female, or Master of such.

Contact 01440 225362 for further details or to arrange viewing.".....

Stephen read the advert he had placed a week earlier, and wondered if
anybody would call. If they did, it would probably be either some
overweight, sweaty geezer type, looking to boost his stock, or some catty
bitch trying to build her dungeon repertoire. Then of course, he should
expect calls from activists, who felt that the female gender shouldn't be
downtrodden.

"Such a bad idea, Stephen," he thought, sadly, "If the phone rings, just
don't answer it." The fact that he had bought the items as a surprise for
his wife, ex wife as she now was, was irrelevant. Married for over ten
years, he had tried to inject some passion and spice into their love life,
only to find that she found him disgusting and was already seeing someone
else anyway.

So he had decided to see if he could recoup some of the outlay, it wasn't
as if he could afford to just throw it all out, nor did it seem likely that
those he had read about actually existed. Men and women who wanted to be
dominated, restrained, punished, and found it so sexually stimulating that
they then wanted to be made love to by a Master. Poppycock. Sell it and be
done. Except he was now expecting more trouble than he had initially
considered. What a difference a day makes!

He was, then, in something of two minds when the phone rang just as he had
finished watching the early evening news. Despite all the depressing
thoughts that had occurred to him, the possibility that some naughty young
thing was actually going to call left him with no choice but to answer
it...

....."Erotic Items for sale. Would suit consistently recalcitrant
submissive male / female, or Master of such.

Contact 01436 227362 for further details or to arrange viewing."

So read the advertisement in the local free ad newspaper that Peter was
reading. He had spent the last couple of days getting his new flat in order
and was relaxing in the garden catching the first of the spring sunshine.

He had moved to a coastal town to attend the college there. The local
college didn't run the courses he wanted, so his parents had set him up in
a small flat / apartment near the college in the town a few hours journey
from home.

As he relaxed in shorts with a can of coke he had been flicking idly
through the local free papers prior to disposing of them. Just something to
occupy his mind while he soaked up some sun.

The advert caught his eye because it was the very thing that had interested
him for a long time, but didn't know where to go to find such things, and
anyway, for a 16 year old to walk into a sex shop and openly buy them would
just be too embarrassing.

He longed for someone to find something amiss in his behaviour or work,
just enough, for him to have to be punished, spanking followed by being
fondled, even more if his fantasies were anything to go by. Once started on
this subject his mind would wander free conjuring up all sorts of ideas,
such as being tied up, bent over and caned, having his pants lowered so
that his master could see his sex as he bent over to be punished on his
bare bottom. Vibrators large and small, ropes, handcuffs, blindfolds,
strangers witnessing his punishment, all played a part in his musings, none
of which ever saw the light of day, or the moon for that matter, he was
equally at home being the shy blushing boy out of doors.

So it was hardly surprising that he almost choked on his drink as he read
the small, boxed, advert. He read it another time, and again, and then
decided it was probably a hoax. Most likely some fat sweaty slob of a
wierdo, hoping to get some sad person to pay him some
attention. Probably. Possibly. Maybe.

He turned the page and continued scanning the ads, spending some time on
the DIY items.

An hour later, the sun had dipped behind a cloud, and he stretched his slim
youthful body, causing his semi erection to bulge his shorts, and allowing
the breeze to caress his pink erect nipples before climbing out of the sun
lounger, disposing of the papers and went to go indoors. He stopped at the
back door in thought, and decided to rescue the free ads from the bin, just
in case. He would think the ad over, and decide tomorrow whether to call or
forget about it.

As he was preparing a simple meal, his mind couldn't stop going over the
ad, and the possibilities. This would be an ideal chance to buy the things
he fantasised over, but then the seller might think him weird. Still, the
seller had them so who was he to judge? Anyway he couldn't possibly
consider going into a sex shop to buy things, but this could be just the
chance. Probably some dingy basement flat that would reek of fish and
garlic, but maybe not. Perhaps the items would be used and grubby, or
perhaps they were new. Maybe it would be someone too local, or maybe
not. Goodness! Perhaps it was some ancient old Fairy! Then again, maybe
not. Perhaps he would see what he thought tomorrow. Perhaps the things
would be all gone! Maybe he should just call and see what information he
could deduce, he didn't have to go any further. Even if he visited to see
what there was, he didn't have to go in, or even stay.

With his meal hardly picked at, he forced himself to walk right past the
phone and take a shower. Which did his racing mind no good at all as his
soapy hands roamed over his slim body, feeling the puckering of his
nipples, and how hot he was getting between his legs. His newly shaven
groin, a symbol of a new life away from his parents control was another
source of excitement. How it left him feeling permanently turned on, even
when just stepping out to go shopping or pay a bill at the bank. The fact
that he knew, and all the people around him could only guess. What would
they know as the demure, slim young man, whose mouth wouldn't melt butter,
was standing here in the queue with nude loins and no pants.

That's it. He decided. I'm going to phone right now, before I put it
off. There are times young lad when you just have to grasp the nettle. Ooh
yes, and hope it stings but not too much!

So that was how he came to be standing in the hallway, totally nude,
waiting for the ringing phone to be answered...

Stephen picked up the phone, "Hello?" he answered, light heartedly (just in
case).

"Oh! Umm, Hello." Came the young, nervous, male reply.

Silence

"He doesn't sound at all fat and sweaty, and certainly not an old Fairy."
Thought Peter.

"He sounds young, and nervous as a kitten. Wrong number? Or...". Thought
Stephen.

"Hello?" repeated Stephen, hoping not to scare away the young thing, and
wanting to hear more of the voice that had just lit his pilot light.

"Oh! Yes, umm, sorry, I was just umm, wondering, was it you who placed the
advert in the free ads?" He asked, nervously, shaking so much that he had
to hold the phone in both hands.

"Bloody Hell!" Stephen thought with a smile, though still unsure...

"I have placed an advertisement in that publication, do you have an
interest?" He asked, in a slightly more formal tone.

"Oh be still my throbbing prick." Thought Peter, as the voice seemed to
have the effect of a tuning fork in his nether regions.

"Oh, umm, yes, that is possibly. You see I've been thinking for some time,
now that I have my own place, not that I would do anything like that you
understand, just that I would like to kind of, well, see what these things
are like, but I don't know if I would like them, and I always, well not
always but for sometime now, have umm, gosh, You see..."

...finally he drew breath and Stephen stepped in, "When would you like to
come and see the items in question. They are all new, unused, and I offer
privacy and complete discretion.

Oh jiminy, there was that voice again. He almost dropped the phone as he
squeezed his thighs together trying to gain some control over his racing
pulse. He sounded so, masculine, in control, confident.

"Oh, well, I expect you're busy tonight, and I've only just phoned anyway
just in case, in case the things had already gone that is, and anyway I've
just stepped out of the sh..."

"Tonight would be perfectly acceptable to me, come as soon as you like, and
just as you are, no obligations, just a look and see whatever takes your
fancy. Your uncertainty is understandable, but the items are mine at the
moment, so I am hardly in a position to judge. Would you like to come
tonight?" He asked, hoping not to lose the caller who sounded so nice,
young and innocent.

By now Peter was kneeling on the floor, Being told to come just as he was,
naked, to visit a strange masterful man, who could live anywhere, and then
be asked if he wanted to come? Tonight? Never mind tonight, he was nearly
coming now!

"Yes, I think I would like that, But I don't know where you live?" He
replied, with a quivering voice.

With his address scribbled down, the next thing was deciding what to
wear. And hope he wasn't misleading him up the garden path without a piddle
er, paddle. Oh, my. A Paddle, one of those whippy leather things like a
soft ping pong bat. Oooh, a ping pong bat, with all those nice little
dimples...

Having given Peter his address, the next thing for Stephen to do was to
tidy the place. And hope he wasn't being set up. "Just as he was", I wonder
just what he was wearing. "Come tonight?" "Oh no, I didn't really say that
did I?" he thought with a cringe.


Peter decided in the end, not to go as he was while on the phone. In fact
to be relaxed and casual. Tee shirt and shorts, white socks and
trainers. Suitably tidied, he wheeled out his bike, carrying a small bag to
hide anything he might buy, and set off. The address was about twenty
minutes away, he knew the area, and although confident he could find the
place, he was full of anticipatory nerves about what he would find.

For his part, Stephen had tidied the flat and was now tidying himself. He
thought about casual, no, too carefree. Formal, no, too frightening,
Black. Black? Black, informal, yet formal. Frightening, yet in
control. Masterful, and he did sound as though he would respond to
masterful. Not that he was expecting anything, just hopefully some cash to
help fill the larder.

When Peter arrived, he rode past the address twice. Stopped at the gate,
got off his bike, climbed back on, and finally dismounted, opened a small
front gate and wheeled the bike in, leaving it by the front door. Looking
around the houses, he could see that his initial fears had all been
dispelled. He wasn't a fat smelly slob, didn't live in a dingy smelly
basement, and wasn't an ageing Fairy. This was a respectable area. The man
was possibly as nervous as he was. What he needed was a stiff drink. A
stiff something else was on his mind on the way over, but he would settle
for a stiff drink just at the moment. Finally he decided to just do it.

Stephen saw him approach, and the hesitation. "Well, if he gets as far as
the front door he'll be wanting a drink. And if he's as sexy as he looks
from here so will I. He looked at the collection of items laid out on the
table in the dining room / office. Handcuffs, blindfold, canes, tawse, S&M
books, vibrators, lubricants, restraints, even a collar and lead (which
would double as a whip). "He'll think I'm a total nutter", he thought, "Or
so experienced with all this stuff. Chance would be a fine thing." He stood
back from the window and watched Peter approach the front door. "Here goes"
he thought holding his breath waiting for the knock...

As Peter walked up to the door he was still having second thoughts until he
remembered the voice..."...come as you are...do you want to come
tonight..."...

"Here goes" he thought as he knocked on the door.

The knock when it finally came sent a jolt through Stephen. He opened the
door to a vision of innocence. Short, slim, wide eyed, and innocent, he
looked every bit the shy boy next door, looking up at him with eyes wide
with nervous anticipation.

When the door opened Peter was greeted by a tall man, dressed in black
shirt and trousers. He looked about fifty, with a mainly bald head, well
trimmed moustache, dark eyes, and a soft smile. He smiled sweetly and said,
"Oh, er, hello, I phoned earlier about the um,..."

Stephen stood to one side and asked him in, closing the door gently behind
them.  "Thank you for coming," he said, before enquiring, "What can I get
you to drink? I have gin, vodka, whisky, all the usual."

"Gin, please," Peter replied, "with lemonade. Fizzy if you have it."

"I don't have fizzy gin, but I expect I can find some fizzy lemonade."
Stephen replied, teasing him already. "Look, why don't you go in and see
what there is, while I get your drink." He suggested.

Peter nodded and was led into what appeared to be a cross between an office
and a dining room. On the table were all sorts of items which sent a shiver
up and down his spine, leaving a tingle in his neck and a definite buzz in
his balls.

He was entranced by the collection, and just stood there, rapt, gazing at
the items, his imagination running away with all sorts of ideas. When
Stephen returned, he hadn't moved, still clutching his bag, and seemed
miles away as he was handed a tall glass of gin and orange.

"My name is Stephen," he offered, holding out a hand.

"Oh, Peter." He replied, taking it lightly. It seemed to envelop his small
hand, and felt smooth dry and warm. Especially as his was probably a little
moist. "Not the only thing getting moist around here!" he thought to
himself.

"I can see you're entranced by the collection," said Stephen, They were
bought with good intentions, but never used, so they are quite
virginal. Are you familiar with any of them, that is, do you have any
questions I could answer?"

"No, no, I just, well, I've never seen, or been so close to such things
and, well, um could I just..." and Peter reached out to pick something up.

"Look, why don't I just leave you to it for a while. I've got some work to
do in the kitchen, so I'll come back in about ten minutes and see how
you're getting on." He said.

Peter nodded his assent and Stephen left the room. Looking at the array of
items, he began picking them up, and feeling them. Some of the things were
obvious, and some needed a little thought, but it soon became clear which
he was interested in. The problem was, there were one or two things he
wanted, but was too embarrassed to say, yet his yearning for the two
vibrators, particularly when he turned them on and felt the sensations, was
overpowering. He wondered if they would be missed. Looking furtively
around, he risked dropping them into his bag and started moving some items
to one side as definite purchases. Handcuffs, collar, cane, and a small
leather whip. He then picked up one of the books and was reading about the
exploits of a young librarian when Stephen returned.

"Have you found anything you like?" he asked, noticing that Peter had at
least been sorting through things.

"Oh, um, yes. These seem like the sort of thing." He replied, indicating
his selection. "The only thing is how much are they?"

As Stephen looked through them, he noticed that the two vibrators were
missing, but was unsure of what to say. "Oh these won't amount to much," he
said, "was there anything else you were thinking of, perhaps unsure about?"

"Well, this book is just getting interesting." Replied Peter with a shy
smile.

He was now starting to get concerned about her earlier decision with the
vibrators, and was starting to panic a bit. He didn't want to spend more
time here than necessary in case he was found out. "No, thank you," he
smiled, nervously, just these things please."

"Well, I'll just help you pack them shall I?" Stephen asked, picking up the
bag.

"Oh, no I can manage!" said Peter, afraid he would see what had been
hidden, but it was too late, Stephen had already seen what he had hidden
away.

"Oh dear." Said Stephen. "Oh dear me. What have we here?" he went on,
lifting out the two vibrators. "I wonder how they got in there."

"Look, I'm sorry, I, um, it's just, oh dear, I don't know what, um,..."
Peter's voice trailed off as he stood there, hands wringing, head bowed,
toes turned in. The perfect picture of a boy awaiting punishment.

"I think perhaps you should take a seat while I contact the authorities,"
Stephen said sternly, motioning toward a chair, "I'm sure it won't take
long."

Peter suddenly had a vision of police, court, newspapers, neighbours, "Oh,
please no," he implored, "please not that, I'll pay for them, I'll pay
double, it's just that I was so embarrassed and didn't know what to do, and
I didn't mean anything and I'm so sorry."

Stephen took a seat himself, a large black office chair, and asked Peter to
stand before him. He stood up and stepped forward. "I can and will call the
authorities, or I can punish you myself. You have a choice, but it will be
your choice, your decision, and you will carry the consequences. Which
would you prefer?" Stephen asked, firmly.

"Well, it umm, depends on what you mean by punish," Peter said quietly,
head bowed but looking at him through raised eyes.

"You will have to take the consequences of your actions," he said, "any
punishment will be fitting." He watched the young man carefully. "It is
your decision, punishment by the law or myself."

Peter had an idea what his punishment would be like, and felt strangely
attracted to it. He felt she could trust this man not to harm him, and who
knows, perhaps it would be the sort of thing he had begun to crave. He
stood, mute, wringing his hands and rubbing one foot up and down his calf
muscle.

"Well? I'm waiting for your answer!" Stephen said sternly.

"Punishment by you, Sir." Peter replied quietly.

"Very well, then." He pointed to a dining chair. "Bring that to the centre
of the room, please, Peter."

After the boy placed it in the centre of the room, Stephen sat on it and
told Peter to lay across his knee for a spanking. Peter had expected
something like this, and as long as he wasn't expected to strip he felt it
was only fair. He lay across Stephen's knees, and felt the man's hand begin
to run over his bottom.

"Such a shame to have to punish this naughty little bottom," Said Stephen,
his hand roving over Peter's cheeks and upper thighs, "But it needs warming
up before I use the cane, or it will cause unnecessary suffering."

"A cane!"  Peter thought, and was about to complain when the first slap
descended on his rear.

He cried out in surprise, and continued to do so as he was spanked
alternately on one cheek then the other, high, low, never in the same place
consecutively. "You can cry out all you like, young man, "Stephen said, "no
one will hear you, and even if they did, once I explain the reason I expect
they would want to watch as well!"

The warmth was beginning to spread to his upper thighs and tummy, where a
strange butterfly sensation was building. When Stephen mentioned someone
else watching he couldn't help a gasp of excitement slipping out in between
the cries of hurt, which were really more of embarrassment.

After a few minutes, Stephen stopped and told him to stand at the table
where the items were that he had been looking at. Peter stood up slowly,
with a little help, and stepped slowly over to the table.

"I think it may be fitting if you were to put this on, before the next part
of your punishment," Stephen said, handing Peter the collar, "It would help
to remind you that you have done wrong, and why this is happening." He took
the collar from the man, and again with a little help, fastened it
comfortably round his neck. It was black, leather, with a small, loose
chrome ring, which was slid to the back of his neck. Stephen' hands softly
touching his neck sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine, and although he
was wary of the cane, he had reached a point where he was starting to enjoy
the attentions of a masterful man.

Picking up one of the canes from the table, Stephen asked him to bend over,
and as he did he again began to gently fondle his bottom. "I think we are
going to have to have these shorts out of the way," he said, "it will
prevent me from seeing exactly where each stroke goes, and anyway, the
shorts haven't been naughty, just you."

Peter, embarrassed at the thought, asked him not to, but he ignored the
pleas, and they were soon pooled around his ankles. As he stood, bent over
the table, Stephen admired the shapely legs, and said that he shouldn't
keep such beautiful things hidden. He ran his hands over the backs and
sides of Peter's thighs, and he felt his nails gently brushing the backs of
her knees. He was beginning to feel quite turned on by his ministrations,
and decided that this was no worse than wearing swimming trunks anyway.

Stephen took a step back and Peter felt the cane roving over his rear, as
if searching for the first place to land. The first blow fell, stinging him
slightly, and he stood up in surprise, rubbing the area with both hands.

"Hmm, I was afraid that might happen," Stephen said in thought, and put the
cane down. "Hold your hands out in front of you, palms down."

Peter obeyed slowly, wondering what he was going to do. Before he could
react, Stephen had picked up the handcuffs, and fastened his hands
together. "Now put them behind your head." He said, helping Peter to lift
them over his head. He heard a metallic click from behind his head and
realised that Stephen had fastened them to the collar!

"Now bend over again, and this time you won't be able to rub that naughty
little bottom as it is being punished, will you, Peter?" he asked with a
smile.

"N..no, Stephen." He replied nervously.

"I think SIR would be more appropriate at this time, don't you, Peter?" he
asked more sternly.

"Yes, Sir." He replied, as he bent over the table again resting his elbows
as he stretched out.

"Now, how many strokes do you think you should receive for your misdeeds
earlier?" Stephen asked.

Peter had no idea, and suggested six as the first thing that came into his
head.

"Six?" Stephen questioned. "Six? But six of the best is the sort of thing
given out to naughty schoolboys who failed to do their homework. I think
more would be called for here." He continued to caress Peter's cheeks and
thighs, as he spoke. "There was theft, then there is the misplacement of
trust, after I invited you into my home. Oh no, I don't think six will
quite cut it, would you like to try for a higher number?"

His stroking was having quite an effect, coupled with the paraphernalia on
display in front of Peter, then of course there was the restraint, and
semi-nudity. This man could do almost anything to him, even, should he
wish, ease his top up, revealing his erect nipples, and even pull his pants
down, leaving his prick open in the air. His stiffening, shaven, prick. "Oh
my goodness," he thought, as a bolt of pure sexual energy shot through him,
sending his pulse racing. "Oh, no, I couldn't let him see that I've been so
depraved as to shave my...Aaahh!" He cried as he was smacked again.

"Well, little master naughty, I'm waiting for answer." Stephen said firmly,
"How many strokes for theft and misplaced trust?"

"Twelve?" He replied.

"Twelve what?" Stephen asked, smacking him again.

"Oh, twelve, Sir!" he replied, swaying his bottom left and right.

"Well, let's just put the offending items in front of the offender, shall
we. So he can see what he is being punished for." Stephen said, placing the
two vibrators upright on the table, right in front of Peter's eyes. "Now I
think I can count two there, so that means the punishment should be
doubled, which makes twenty four, plus one for luck, shall we say twenty
five? Twenty-five strokes of the cane, on this beautiful, sexy, but naughty
bottom? Hmm?"

Peter didn't think he could stand such a punishment, but in his current
state, felt that if he argued anymore, it would increase further. Hoping it
wouldn't be too unbearable, he nodded his assent.

"I can't hear you." Stephen said, leaning over and whispering in his
ear. He was sure he could feel something nudging his bottom, and the breath
just behind his ear was causing more ripples of pleasure.

"Y -- yes, twen -- twenty-five, Sir" he gasped, trying not to thrust his
bottom out to confirm his thoughts.

"Well, you count them, and thank for me nicely for each one, and we'll see
how we get on." The man said, "Ready?"

He nodded again, wincing in anticipation before the first one fell. Peter
couldn't keep her eyes off the vibrators, getting more aroused with each
stroke. How he wanted them. After seven, slowly administered strokes,
interspersed with cries, stroking, and thanks, he began to ask if they
could reduce the number as they hurt too much.

"Well, I could make them lighter," replied Stephen, "but it's these
pants. They're taking some of the force, and so I have to do them a bit
harder. Of course, if they weren't in the way..." he hesitated.

A few minutes ago, Peter would have been unable to accede, but now he
wanted nothing more than to expose himself to this man. "If you have to,"
he said, in a fit of lust, "but only to uncover my bottom, they mustn't
come all the way down, must they?" The very asking of the question only
served to remind him of his vulnerable position, and his insides melted
even more.

"Well, with so many strokes still to go, and such a small bottom, if it
isn't all exposed, I just might stripe the same place twice, but we'll see
what we can do." Stephen slipped his thumbs into the waistband of Peter's
white pants and began to slide them over his hips.

"Oh take them right down!" he thought, "Down to my ankles, strip me naked,
expose me!" he thought, his insides a mass of anticipation and unsatiated
lust.

Stephen stopped as they reached the top of his thighs, and there they
remained for next six strokes, the unusual feeling only reminding him more
of the long awaited fantasy taking place. Again he pleaded with Sir to
stop, as the stinging was too much. Surely by now, his poor little bottom
must be red raw?

"Not at all," the man replied, "It looks quite, quite beautiful to me, and
we are only half way through. There is another item I could use, but again
it would need more of you uncovered." He said thoughtfully.

Reaching across the table, he picked up a small leather flogger. Peter's
initial shock that it would hurt unbearably was soon quashed as it was
slowly dragged across the small of his back and bottom. He groaned in
pleasure, and wriggled his bottom for more when it stopped.

"This little toy is designed for the back as well the bottom. If you would
prefer it to the cane for rest of your punishment I could use it
instead. We still have twelve to go. Should I whip you for the rest, or
cane you?" He asked.

"W -- would I have to, have to have my tee shirt up for that?" he asked
tremulously, and not without hope.

"Of course, you would. It would serve no purpose if the blows fell on to
the shirt you were wearing. If you choose that, just stand up, and we'll
continue." He said, continuing to run it over the exposed parts of his
body.

Uncertain as to how brazen he would appear, he hesitated, until his eyes
fell again on the two vibrators. His fears disappeared in a cloud of
wantonness, and he stood, aware that his bottom was uncovered, but his
erection still hidden.

Stephen slipped his hands under the hem of the tee shirt and slowly, too
slowly, eased it up and left it bunched around Peter's wrists. His nipples
were aching for attention, erect and alive at the scenario he was involved
in at last.

Sir ran his hands gently but firmly over Peter's back and ribs, pausing
before sliding them gently over his nipples and flicking them with his
thumbs. Peter gasped in pleasure and thrust out his bottom with an
involuntary spasm.

"I thought they would be sensitive," Stephen said, softly, "I'll just whip
your back, and leave them alone." He walked over to the door, and waved
across, saying, "come and lean against the door, so you don't fall
forward."

Peter walked over, aware that the man's gaze was falling on his semi nude
body, and still a little thankful that he was unaware of what was hidden
beneath the front of his pants.

The rest of the punishment continued with cries of pleasure more than pain,
interspersed with thanks, counting and writhing of indescribable pleasure.

When it was over, he was gasping for orgasm, and knew the slightest touch
would take him over the edge. How would he ever get home in this state?

Stephen took him gently by the arm and he was led back to the
table. Turning Peter so that his back was to it, he reached over and picked
up the smaller of the vibrators.

"This is what all the fuss was about isn't it?" he asked. "This and its big
brother." he continued, reaching for the other one. "For being such a good
boy and taking your punishment, I'll let you feel them." He turned on the
smaller one and began to roll it gently over Peter's body. Starting at his
neck, and working slowly over his shoulders, nipples and ribs, before
moving it lower to his pants.

Peter's eyes were closed as his breath came in gasps and pants of
pleasure. Stephen began to slip it slowly into the bunched up waist of his
pants and his eyes opened. Still unsure of what Stephen would think of his
shaven state, he began to cross his legs.

"I think these are going to have to come all the way down." Sir said
softly. "All the way, past your thighs, over your knees, past your calves,
and down to your ankles," he continued, running the backs of his hands over
the areas he was describing.

Peter was now past caring, and just stood there, trembling with passion,
whispering, "Please, please..."

Stephen slipped his hands into the waistband of the pants, and slowly did
just what he had described. As the nakedness became complete, Peter felt
more aroused than ever before. As he stepped out of his pants he knew he
would do anything as long as he could come, and soon.

"Well, what do we have here?" Stephen asked, planting a kiss on his shaved
area. "Only the most delectable little thing I have ever seen. Talk about
the cherry on the icing of the cake." He stood and stepped back to admire
the exposed nudity. "You are the most gorgeous creature I have ever seen."

"I am going to release your hands now, and you will use one of the
vibrators to make yourself come, while I watch and get ready to take you
myself. Is that clear?" He asked in as stern a voice as he could muster.

Peter could do no more than nod as Sir unclipped the cuffs from the collar
and handed him the vibrator, already buzzing in it's own anticipation. As
he moved it over his body, and down to his sex, Sir began to undress.

As Stephen's erection became visible, Peter became even more excited. Just
as he was about to come, writhing his hips in ecstasy, he was turned and
led to the sofa.

Kneeling Peter before it he felt his master's stiffness between his legs as
Stephen moved behind him. While Peter rubbed himself to a crescendo, the
handcuffs rattling away, he felt Sir masturbating himself against the
cheeks of his reddened little bottom.

As Peter came with a cry and a great heave of his loins, Stephen released
his spunk over the beautiful little bottom in front of him. Giving Peter a
few more smacks for good measure.

As they relaxed with a drink a little later, Peter asked if he could visit
again.

"I don't see why not," Stephen replied, "We still have to see if either of
those vibrators will fit, and maybe there will be another man here to
witness your punishment!"


Thank you for reading. All positive or constructive feedback is welcome.