Date: Sun, 23 Jan 2005 23:48:35 -0800 (PST)
From: Subtoy Kimy <subtoy_kimy@yahoo.com>
Subject: Consented Enslavement (Ch 04)

Warning: This story is about gay sex and domination between young adults.
If this subject offends you, or if it is illegal in the country where you
live, or if you are under 18, then read no further and quit this page now.

(c) Subtoy_Kimy 2005 - All rights reserved


Consented Enslavement (Chapter 4)
by Subtoy_Kimy < subtoy_Kimy@yahoo.com >


CHAPTER 4: THE BRITS' BELTS

Though I badly needed it, he allowed no break:

"Can't wait to see those cutie white bubbles blushing red," he said, while
holding the belts high in his hands. "Now, choose the one you'd want me to
start with," he added.

For Christ sake, who said I wanted such a thing to start? I couldn't
believe I was ordered to participate in choosing the tool of my own pain
and humiliation. While I kept standing all naked, just hiding my cock with
both hands, I looked up at him, trying to find how serious he was, and our
eyes met. Beyond my fear, I wondered how could such a delicate and almost
fragile face, hide that much hardness behind its paleness. And how could
such adorable lips, so sharply drawn with such a pure simplicity, come out
with orders of that cruelty. Of course, I could only wonder this, but he
left no place for questions, or complaints. While only my eyes could plead
him to spare me such a task, he kept staring at me, with an awesome
quietness, strictly waiting for my obedience.

"C'mooon!" he said, impatiently.

Though well knowing that I would be whipped with, I pointed at the first
belt.

"Good. This is one's Timothy's," he said, while I really would have
preferred not to know it.

He joined both ends of the belt, and held them in one handful, and then he
waved it on empty, disregarding the pleading fear in my eyes. But he found
that he wouldn't have the needed length to make it fly enough, so he
released one end of it, and kept holding it from its buckle. I was
trembling inside.

"Now, turn around and bend over again," he said, "just like before."

By the time I did, he made half a step aside, and adjusted to stand
steady. "And remember, I want to hear you counting," he added, "is it
clear?"

"Yes, Master, it is."

"Well, better for your own sake," he said, while unmercifully spreading his
arm back wide, "cause an uncounted whip will be considered undone." And he
hasn't yet finished saying this, when I heard the belt cutting the air, and
it slammed against my butt.

"Uhhh... One..."

It was painful, but surprisingly not unbearable, as I thought it would
be. It rather felt like burning.

"Uuuuuuhhhhhhh... Two"

But harder than the pain itself, was the deep humiliation of finding myself
being disciplined in the way bad school boys of the old times used to be,
and mostly by someone who after all, and only one hour earlier, was just a
College mate, and above all, younger.

"Aaaawwwtttccchhh... Uhhh... Three."

Even as a kid, and though I was raised within the rules of a very strict
tradition, I never was disciplined with this. For me, and till this very
moment, such treatments only belonged to the old past, or to some stories I
had read, and movies I had seen.

"Awwwwwwtccccchhhhhhh!!!... uhhhh... Four."

Still, I must confess that since my early teenage years, stories with
whipping passages, used to turn me on. I always substituted to the
character that was being whipped, rather than the punisher, and my
compassion sometimes turned into envy. While reading, I often noticed that
my dick was growing and hardening, and this is what was happening to me
again, live.

"Uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh... F... Five... Master, Pleaeaeaease."

Every whip shook my body stronger than the one before. I just wondered how
long this session would last, since we were still with the first one of
four belts, and whipping seemed to be still going on, and pain has started
to hurt.

"Bend back, and choose your next whip," he ordered, "C'mon!"

Again, I was bound to obey, and I pointed at a new belt.

"Fine! Now this one's Adrian's," he said, while I dared not explain that I
hated to know whose belt it was. It may sound weird but...

"Uuuuuuhhhhhhhhh... Six."

It may sound weird, but I just couldn't say why learning whose belt it was,
felt very disturbing. It strangely made me figure out as if the belt's
owner was right here, watching from behind, and I could almost see him
smiling, with a kind of cynical expression on his face. Though this was...

"Uuuuuuhhhhhhh... Sss... Seven... Master pleaeaeease."

Though this was all in my imagination, I hated the feeling of it. Mostly
because I didn't too much like those guys, I couldn't stop thinking that
they surely would have enjoyed watching how I was being whipped with their
own belts, and would have found some fun in it. I wondered how after
this...

"Aaaaaaawwwwtch... Eight...Uhhhh please, Master."

I wondered how after this, I could face any one of them within the College
campus, or pass across his way in the corridors, especially if glancing at
his belt, I find that he would be wearing the very one that had left its
traces on my butt, and blushed it red. I could feel by know how both
ashamed and embarrassed I would be, then.

"Uuuhhha'aaawtch... Nine... Pleaeaease Master, pleaease..."

The worst thing in such situations, is that I would probably never know if
those guys would have learned something about what their belt had been used
for, or not. I wondered how I could face their smiles and handle them,
while seeking to read what hides behind every movement of their lips,
whether just a common courtesy, or irony and contempt.

"Aaaha'uuuuuhhhhtttccchhhh... Ten... huhhhhhhhhh..."

The harder the pain was becoming, the more I hated the 'snobbrits'.

"Choose next, c'mon!" he ordered, as if in a hurry.

Between the two belts left, the one I pointed at was Rupert's.

"What you waiting for? C'mooon! Bend over again," he said, with such an
anger, that the belt slammed on my butt, by the time I was still taking
position.

"Uuuuuuuhhhhhh... Nooooooooo... Eleven."

The pain was such that it jerked my body all over. It made me lift my head
and my neck up towards my back, and my shoulder blades popped up. But he
seemed to like it. Indeed, from this moment, whips started to come faster
and harder, and I could feel how excited he was by the way my naked back
was responding.

"Uhhhhhh... Twel... huh... Twelve... Pleaeaeaease"

On the one hand, I had to thank God that the 'snobbrits' had classical and
refined tastes. They wouldn't own skinheads like studded belts, with metal
embedding and nails. But on the other...

"Awwwwww... Maaaaster... Uhhhhhh... pleaeaeaease... Thirteen."

But on the other hand, their fine quality leather was both thin and heavy
weighting, and mostly, very flexible. Though it wouldn't be harming for the
skin, nor damaging it with blisters, it nevertheless was becoming extremely
painful.

"Aaaha'uuutttccchhhh... F... Fourteen... uhhh..."

And the harder the pain was becoming, the closer I was to fall down on my
knees, to just grab Kevin's legs in my arms, and beg him to stop. I was so
ready to do anything in return of his mercy, that my dick has grown hard
like a rock.

"Uhhhhhhhaaaaaha'uuutttccchhhh... Uuuuuuhhhhhhhh... Fifteen."

But from his point of view, things went totally different: The more I
suffered for his own pleasure, the more he went excited.

When Rupert's belt session ended, I was struggling to keep my tears from
flowing. Though well knowing that there was only one belt left, I bent
back, but only to realize how satisfied Kevin was. He looked at me straight
in the eyes, and with a one-side smile on his lips, he just said:

"You look very cute like this, you know. Seems that pain suits you fine."

I was just thinking the same about him, and I bowed my head. Indeed, the
tremendous energy he has been spending whipping me, along with his
excitement of doing it, all together boosted the beauty of his face, to
make it break the limits of what my eyes ever saw.

"Feel like having some more?" he asked unexpectedly, and in a natural way
that made him look just as if he was offering me some soda.

I melted inside. He looked so gorgeous, that I almost could have said
yes. Between every belt's session and the other, facing his beauty
definitely helped me finding the courage to bear more of the pain he was
inflicting me. Being whipped has become the sacrifice I owed to satisfy my
burning desire to be kept under the power of his unbearable beauty. But
when he asked if I wanted more, I finally had a reason to hope that he
might spare me the last belt's session, and start fucking me, at last.

"No! Master, it's so painful, please..." I answered, while looking at him
inquiringly, hiding my erected cock in my hands, and desperately hoping for
his mercy.

At this, something sparkled in his eyes. I guess he felt flattered, perhaps
even excited by how I stood, intimidated by my nudity, while looking at him
and addressing to him as if every cell of me was begging him with fear. I
definitely noticed that he liked it, but of course, he showed nothing but
an offhand indifference. He just moved slightly away, and sake for his cell
phone, which he found on the shelf where he had left it. Beyond my fear, I
kept staring at the gorgeous slenderness of his body, and I just couldn't
take my eyes off the sweat that shined on the six-pack muscles of his abs,
and all along his elegantly muscled thighs and legs, down to the edge of
his socks.

"Mmmm... And what if I just feel like going on?" he said, obviously teasing
again.

"Oh! Nooo, Master, please... I'd do anything but..."

"Anything?" he repeated, while concentrated on dialing a number "Are you
sure?" he added.

I panicked.

"So let me see what you suggest. What would you offer in exchange of my
renouncement?" he asked, while bringing the phone to his ear, obviously
concentrating on an answer to his call, rather than from me.

I kept silent, not knowing what to answer.

"Consider first step's accomplished. I'm almost ready to hold my promise,"
was what he said then.

Obviously, he had decided to shortcut the last belt session, considering
that I had suffered enough to finally deserve his fucking me, or at least,
this is what I thought he meant. But I felt confused, when he kept staring
at me, not really concentrated on my reaction. I suddenly was not quite
sure if what he just said was addressed to me, or to someone he had over
the phone. It has only been made clear when he added: "Yeah, I just warmed
him up... You finished workin' out?... Sure... Yeaaah! He's almost
done.... Oh! Yeah! Totally... Yeah, sure, you can come over now. He's all
ours..."

Oh! My God! Who the hell was he talking to?

While I was still wondering what this call was about, all of what he had
made me beg and hope for failed, right at the moment when he held the last
belt in his hand and strictly ordered, with a total disregard to my
worries:

"Now in position for Frederik's ... C'mon!"

Despite my burning pain, I bent over almost mechanically. My mind was so
preoccupied with what I just heard, that the belt slammed on my butt,
before I got prepared for it.

"Aaaaaawwwwwwttttttccccchhhhh..."

Though pain jerked all my body, I couldn't stop rewinding and playing in my
mind each and every word he said on the phone. The only fact that he
neither said 'Hello', nor even mentioned my name, showed that this
conversation was obviously following a previous one. Could it be that he
was chatting on the phone, during the time I was waiting for him? I
wondered if my subjection was pre-planned, and if yes, for how long it has
been.

"Aaaaaaaauuuuuuutch... Uuuuuhhhhhh... "

It was obvious that the guy over the phone knew all of what was happening
in here, and I couldn't believe how Kevin was already taking for granted
that I was to be shared. I couldn't believe either how he spoke about me,
as if I was his own private bitch, or just a toy he could use anyhow. I
couldn't stand recalling words such as 'he's all ours...' or 'he's almost
done...' talking about me with that much disregard to my presence. Nothing
ever was so awfully degrading to me.

"Aahhh' Aaaaawwwtchhhh... Master, pleaeaeaease."

Again whips lifted my head and popped up my shoulder blades. From the
corner of a gap between my bent body and the edge of the bar, I gazed at
Kevin's cock. It has grown to its hardest. Despite my unbearable
humiliation, or perhaps because of it, I badly needed to kneel down and
suck it. But of course, I dared not. I only went wondering what his
erection...

"Aaaaaaaaawwwwwwww... Nnnnoooo... Uhhhhhh..."

I only went wondering what his erection was due to: Of course, it could be
the way the boyish smooth body of mine was jerking and twisting under the
pain he was inflicting me, if not his fantasies on what will soon follow,
as whipping was just about to take end, and the unknown to arrive.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwttttttttttttcccccccccchhhhhhhh..."

As each one of us was drowned into his own thoughts, I realized I had
forgotten the counting. Thanks God, he also seemed to have forgotten to
punish me with the rule of considering uncounted whips undone.

I bent back after the last whip, struggling with pain, and realized that
tears flew down on my cheeks. Kevin was staring at me with a satisfaction
on his face, and an obvious pride. After I had braved that much pain and
humiliation, with such an unconditional obedience, I found that this could
be the right moment for me, to claim for a limit to my subjection:

"I may be all yours, Master, but please, not anyone else's... Please."

"On your knees, when you address to me," was the answer, while his spread
out hand threatened to slap my face again. I let myself down, and knelt
right at his feet, just as if he was a God. Actually, he kind of was. He
stepped back and kept on staring at me, just like one would examine a
painting, in an art gallery. I bowed my head, respectfully.



CHAPTER 5: A SPIKEHEAD TEEN WITH A DEVIL IN HIS EYES

Kevin had just finished instructing me on how he demanded that I welcome
his guest, when the doorbell rang. The humiliation inherent in what he
called 'The Welcome Ritual' was such that I would have rather died...

(to be continued)

_________________________________________________

PS: Again, I address my gratitude to those of you, who keep on writing to
me, and I apologize for the time it took me to finish with Chapter 4.

Names featuring in this story are fictional and totaly invented. If they
happen to belong to existing people and / or places, it's only by pure
coincidence.

And as usual, your comments (positive or negative), corrections, and
suggestions are of course, mostly welcome. < Subtoy_Kimy@yahoo.com >