Date: Mon, 4 Jan 2016 20:48:21 +0100
From: sharp Harper <sharper@inorbit.com>
Subject: Even The First - PART SIX

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Even The First - PART SIX

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Even The First - PART SIX

[quote]
Use your anger.
[unquote]

I ran to open the door when I heard the bell ring. I could see it was Paul
from the shape in the frosted glass. I opened the door wide so he could see
I was nude, which is what he wanted. Only if there are strangers am I to
hide my waist behind the door. The delivery guys all know me. I think the
neighbours all know me.

As soon as He saw my face he said, "Why didn't you open the door? Right. I
shouldn't have to ring the bell. You should see me coming and waiting and
open the door the moment I arrive and open your mouth for my cock into
it. Kneel. Right. I'm giving you free board and lodging..."

I closed the door.

"I'm sorry Sir."

"Right."

I sank to my knees and opened his trousers. I removed his cock. It was
soft. The thick dorsal vein stood out like a long fat worm. I sucked it
into my mouth. It started to harden and Paul patted my scalp as I started
to fuck myself on it.  "Right. Don't be sorry. Get it? Learn. Don't make me
punish you again. Get it? You'll really regret it. Is that clear? Is that
clear? I need to piss. I'm serious. You don't want me to punish you again."

I had not forgotten.

---

Since I had arrived in Paul's home in suburban London, an ordinary detached
30s building in the leafy Epping Lanes area of North London, Paul had made
good use of the hole in my face, and my tight and passive and responsive
fuckhole, and I had eaten the mess, and I had cooked and cleaned the
kitchen up after, but Paul, it seemed, was dissatisfied. He didn't
speak. He ignored me, flicking channels. I looked at his cock, wanting it
again.

"Right. Come here."  I took a step.  "On your knees."  I sank slowly to my
knees and stumbled over to him, my leg chain dragging noisily and the cuff
on my left hand knocking on the floor. Paul put a hand behind my head and
pulled my face into his chest, gripping my short brown hair and rubbing my
nose roughly against his shirt.

"That's right... Smell me. Get the smell. Nothing to worry about," he said,
patting the top of my scalp.

Then he pushed me away and swung his legs round so that I was between
them. He took my head in both his hands and looked at me. He gave my face a
little slap, which didn't hurt, and them looked at me some more, staring
straight into me. I looked back at him. I was so hard right now. He
laughed.

What was he thinking? He must have been trying to assess me, thinking about
how to go about breaking me into mindless subservience. I know now: He
intended never to let me go. He intended never to let me choose to
leave. He intended never for an instant to lose the coming struggle between
his will and my head. He was looking into my eyes and summing me up. He was
anticipating his next move and how it would match up to his ultimate aim. I
had no idea.

"What's the problem?"

Already all I could do was think about his cock. Nothing else was in my
mind. Now that I had had him inside me, striking me with it, I hoped he
would want to fuck me again. That's all I wanted.

"Right," he said. "Follow."

He stood and walked to the basement door, unlocked it and we descended into
the gloom - I mean, the light was on but it was like gloomy and I couldn't
see anything, or, I couldn't make anything out. The centre of the room,
with the tiles, was fairly clear, but round that was an area filled with
shapes and things I couldn't make out.

"Right," he said, "bear with me. Stand there. Calm." he placed a hand only
shoulder and pressed it gently. I was shaking again. He connected a chain
to my collar. I felt it hang coldly over my chest.

He ran a finger up the underside of my fragile dripping penis. I moaned and
felt myself getting closer and closer to orgasm so that when his finger
left the tip of it and he grasped my balls and squeezed so I could feel the
sperm building up in me on the verge of jetting out and then, "No," he
said, withdrew his hand and released me.

He reattached the handcuffs so that my arms were fixed behind my back.

"Don't be scared."

--------

I was never scared; that's the army. In the army it's like everyone knows -
all your secrets - and they laugh cs all of your secrets aren't
serious. That's what you learn. It's cleansing, in a way, cs you stop
worrying and learn to trust - first you trust others, then realise that
others trust you, then you trust yourself - cs there's no
secrets. Every. One. Knows. They know you suck cock. They know who you
sucked and who fucked you and who you slept with and what you are. They
talk about it openly and make jokes about it. Nothing's
serious. Everything's a joke.

It was different with Squigger. He was built like me, and nearly all the
lads, a shithouse of muscle. He was a redhead; though his skin eventually
coloured up - cs we were shirtless a lot of the time in all conditions - it
was a creamy colour that looked pink when he was lying next to me in his
bunk and touching my honey-gold tan. He loved my skin, stroking me
incessantly with his large rough hands, playing with my nipples or
strumming his fingers across the ridges of my abs, gently tugging at the
growth of pubic hair like it was a girl's head, and smiling.

He liked it best when I licked his balls, long strikes of my wide wet puppy
tongue, nibbling the spare skin and matting my spit in the long hair,
sucking them hard and long til he was so hard and wanted it.

He would jump on top of me and straddle me before sitting back, grabbing my
ankles and eating me out. Then he'd fuck me; gently, forcefully, fucking me
with his face inches from mine, rubbing his body against my upright and
beat-sore balls til I came too, when he came up me too, was magic.

I liked being with Squigger. He'd smile at me even when I wasn't trying to
be funny, like he saw the happy person inside. He made me want to be that
person. I felt silly being held in his arms, two grown men, but the
pressure of his skin on mine felt like the warm sun; gripped in the safety
of him.

He said my name and he said, "All I want to be is with you." Sleeping with
him inside me till it slipped out and I woke.

When the others said, 'He has to be shared around. He's the mascot. You
can't monopolise.' he wasn't happy. They said that that was the way it
was. And he said he wasn't happy.

There was a lot of anger about that. That's what caused the fight. Squigger
made it clear he wasn't backing down. I basically I just watched. I saw him
take on the main contender, Greggs, in a fist fight that went in for about
an half hour. Shirtless in the desert, grappling like Turks slippery in
sweat. It was an insubordination but no one reported it. Afterwards, Greggs
kept his distance but now Squigger shared me round. Squigger got the
message. They sided with Greggs. He had to take his turn, though he tended
to get preference and though they all got my services, he tended to get my
nights.

I still don't know if it was an accident. When a device goes off... it's
like an act of God, but other factors also play their part. Greggs was
questioned, but so was everyone else. The disposal guys couldn't explain cs
the area had been swept. Afterwards things got back to normal and I was
still mascot. Greggs took his turn like everyone else; all he wanted was
for me to suck him off but when he couldn't ejaculate he didn't blame
me. He just walked away. Later he asked me if I missed Squigger and I said
I did. Then he said, "I still don't know what he saw in you."

And then there was Rodney, who said, "You don't seem very devastated. Why
aren't you devastated?"

"You've just got to get on with the job," I answered.

Rodney. I knew for a fact he was straight. He said, "Look if you ever need
any one to talk to. Everyone knows you were his special friend. Now, as a
reward you can suck my cock, mascot. Do your job." He said I had a girls
good lips and asked me if he could fuck me and I said yes and he said is my
dick too big and I said I could take it. Then he came and said I was
disgusting and he felt like shit.

At the memorial Greggs and Rodney were the ones who did the flag. I'm not
sure who else was there. Squigger was less popular than I'd imagined. I
think he would have missed me if I'd gone first. Afterwards, that's when
Greggs started getting spiteful, I think, and always found fault with me.

Rodney said Squigger was a selfish bully. When I was rimming him he said
that with Squigger out of the way there was more of me to go round. He
seemed to think that was funny, though he also seemed to harbour a kind of
resentment that Squigger had been running me more or less for
himself. Squigger got into several fights. I really missed Squigger cs once
he was gone the others more or less treated me badly and he would never
have allowed that. I don't mean they didn't protect me; they always made
sure that I was kept out of harms way; after all, I was the mascot, the
surrogate girlfriend fuck. But that doesn't mean they didn't do exactly
what they wanted; assuming they knew who's turn it was. Assuming they could
agree.

--------

"Don't be scared."

Paul with a sudden movement of his arm pulled a chain connected via
something above my head to the metal collar round my neck.

"Don't be scared."

He quickly removed the slack and my head was jerked up and to one side. I
was yanked up painfully by the neck, upsetting my footing and making it
difficult not to spin round.

I turned my wrists in their shackles and twisted on my toes, the chain
holding me from falling and the collar eating into my neck. It was
difficult to swallow.

Paul was staring at me seriously.

"Do you want to please me?" he said.

I looked in his eyes, "Yes Sir."  Like my answer wasn't good enough he said
again, "Do you want to please me?"  "Yes Sir!"  "Do you want to please me?"
"Yes! Sir!"

Silence except for the sound of my own breathing and the blood pounding in
my ears, and I was panting like a dog.

"Good boy."

Paul fiddled with the restraints a little more, tightening them and
loosening them, so that once it started I couldn't move much to make him
miss his target or hurt myself in the wrong way.

When he was satisfied he grabbed the chain and tightened the pull on my
neck so that I was closer to choking.

"Right. Now this..." and the first blow came.

Punishment is like a dream.

It is like sleeping.


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END OF Even The First - PART SIX