Date: Wed, 6 Jul 2005 11:30:23 +0100
From: Story Teller <storymeister@gmail.com>
Subject: Finn The Skin, Gay/ Authoritarian

The following story is fiction.  This means that I have no practical
knowledge of the practices I have written about, nor do I know anyone who
has indulged in such practices.  It is imperative, therefore that readers
accept that I am not advocating the use of pain or violence as a means to
sexual satisfaction, the story is written as a fantasy and should be
accepted as such.

The story runs to nine chapters so it is my intention to post in three
messages of three chapters over the next few days.  The usual copyright
rules do apply and all comments are welcome, however as the story is
completed. messages requesting how the story should proceed or finish
will be a bit pointless.

FINN THE SKIN

Chapter One

I should start by explaining the name.  My given name is Findlay James
Robertson Wilson, quite a mouthful isn't it, and have been called Finn
since childhood: born into a good middle-class family somewhere near the
bottom of a line of old money but with good modern-thinking parents.

I was sent to a "Good" fee-paying school where I excelled at everything,
I was a gifted child.   Being a boys-only school, there was a bit of
fiddling and feeling-up went on among the pupils, which I joined in with
pleasure, but I assumed that, like most others, it was only a stopgap
until I had the chance to enjoy the pleasures of a female.   I was always
strong-willed and stubborn and my parents tended to allow me a free rein
knowing that I would settle back down after a short time, and I suppose
that was the thinking when I was 15 and got my hair cut.

The school had certain standards of dress, which they pursued vigorously,
especially with the uniform, which consisted of the school blazer and
tie, white shirt, black trousers and black shoes.   One day at Inspection
(they carried them out at irregular intervals) I was told that my hair
was too long (It was reaching my collar).  I just said "OK" and made a
mental note to have it cut the next weekend, but the master hounded me
every day about it, so on the following Saturday I went to a barber's and
got a No. 2 cut.   The effect at school was astounding; it was as if I
had got a purple Mohican the way teachers reacted.  I was told that I
must let it grow to a "Suitable length" before having it trimmed again
and I decided to dig my heels in, pointing out that while the school had
rules against long hair, there was nothing written about short hair.   I
was threatened with suspension so I said I would have my head shaved and
look like half the teachers (the bald ones).  At this stage my father
stepped in and threatened a lawsuit against the school and the education
authority.   Since they couldn't fault my work or attendance, they backed
down.

That's when I studied the rulebook more closely.   Black footwear, not
sand-shoes or trainers was the rule, so I bought a pair of Doc Martens.
Trousers, black, and no jeans:  so I shortened my trousers by six inches.
  The headmaster went ballistic, accusing me of undermining his
authority, lowering standards, being a bad example to younger boys and so
on.  I only did it to annoy the authorities, and my parents, while
disliking the look were willing to allow me to express myself.  A strange
thing happened, however, I liked how I looked.   Not in my school uniform
(I looked a bit stupid, to be honest) but at weekends when I normally
wore jeans and tee shirts anyway.  Suddenly I had response from others,
sometimes good, sometimes bad, and I loved both.

Gradually I allowed my trousers to have a more "reasonable" length and
stopped wearing the D.M.'s to school, but I kept my No.2 shortened my
Levi's and my weekend wardrobe changed completely.  By the time I was 17
and about to go to university I had my first two tattoos and my ear
pierced (another drama at school, there was a rule against that, but
since I was leaving soon and had the best marks in my year, it was
allowed to pass).   I had also discovered that my interest in other males
wasn't a passing phase; in fact I was getting more and more into playing
around with guys.  One day I just decided that this was for me and
announced to my parents that I was gay.  I don't know whether they
thought it another phase, but they just accepted it so I announced it at
school too.   The shit REALLY hit the fan, I was threatened with all
sorts of punishments, but I hinted that if expelled I would name a
certain teacher who had "Interfered" with me (there wasn't one).   I had
my exam results so I just left a few weeks early.

I was travelling into town one day on the train and this guy kept eyeing
up my crotch.   The compartment was quiet, just a couple sitting at the
other end, so I started to re-arrange myself, firstly by groping myself,
then finally slipping my hand inside my waistband and pulling myself to
one side (slipping it out of my underpants).   Gradually it got hard and
grew down the inside of my trousers: the poor guy couldn't take his eyes
off it.  He was pawing at himself and licking his lips, so I popped two
buttons.   He moved to sit opposite me and put his hand over but I
knocked him away so he took his own dick out and started to pull on it

"I like the look of that", he said, "I wouldn't mind that thing up my
arse".   I had never fucked anyone before, just mutual wanking, and one
guy sucked me off, so I was really tempted.  "It'll cost you a fiver," I
said.   I don't know why, I didn't need the money, I didn't even know
what the going price was, but it seemed like a good idea.  "Done", he
said, "Get off at the next station".   I assumed he lived there, but when
we got off he walked me over to a big park and we went up into the
trees.  He was on me like a limpet, pulling at my jeans, getting them
down to my knees and sucking on my cock.   Even at 17 I had a 7" uncut
dick (I have since added 1/2") and he liked every fraction of it.
Finally he dropped his trousers and bent forward offering his arse to me.
  I started to push into him but he pulled away.  "For fuck sake, wet it
first", he said, so I spat on my hand and rubbed it on my dick then tried
again.   I don't know why he wanted the spit, I practically fell in, but
it was good, far better than just wanking, better even than being
sucked.  It didn't take long for me to finish and as I pulled out he
turned to me, stuck his dick towards me and said, "Here, finish me off".
  "Fuck off", I said, "That wasn't in the deal, just give me my money"

"You don't get paid unless you toss me off", he said".   I walked over
took his balls in my hand and squeezed until he squealed and said, "Give
me my fucking money or you'll never get a hard-on again".

 He pulled out a purse (Fuck, I HATE men with a purse) and took out a £5
note and handed it to me.   I was tempted to take more, but instead I
just let his balls go and looked into his eyes.  I could see him shrink
in front of me until he had to turn his head.   I stood my ground and he
pulled his trousers up and walked away, not looking back until he was
nearly at the gates.  I hadn't moved an inch.

I couldn't believe the feeling of power I had, I had made that guy
terrified just by looking at him.   It was as good as the feeling I had
when I fucked him, and I loved it.

Having discovered how good it felt to fuck a man I looked a bit harder
and found that there were plenty of guys willing to open up for a 6'1" 17
year old skinhead, most of them a lot tighter than the first guy.   I was
shagging anything that looked twice at me as long as it was male, and I
was always threatening in my style while doing it.

One day I met a guy about 30-35 years old in a toilet and he asked me if
I wanted to go back to his place.   Playing Mr Cool, I shrugged and said
OK, but laid the ground rules, "I don't suck, I don't get fucked, I might
play with your dick".  "That's OK", he said, "Suits me fine".   He took
me back to a house in a quiet street and when we went in I could tell
straight away that he was married with kids.  This surprised me at the
time, I thought guys were either one thing or the other, and I wondered
if it was some kind of trap or something.   I soon relaxed when we went
into the bedroom and he stripped naked, lay on his back, lifted his legs
and said "OK, big boy, give it to me", (I know, corny or what).   I spat
on my hand, but he said "No, do it dry".  I pulled back my skin and put
my dickhead against his puckered arse and pushed.  It was harder without
the lube, but I got it in and gradually my own precum and his sweat made
it a lot easier.   I picked up my pace and started to pound into him, but
he kept saying, "Faster, harder, hurt me".  By this time I was sweating
with effort but he wanted more.   Finally he said, "Hit me" I was stunned
by this, but he kept saying it.  "Hit me, punch me, slap me".  At first I
sort of gave a play-punch to his chest, but he wanted it harder, so I put
more strength into it.  I was punching on his chest and gut almost as
hard as I could.   He called me a dirty poof and I slapped his face as
hard as I could.  He moaned so much, I hit the other cheek then kept
slapping all over his body and legs, I pulled out of his arse and slapped
it about eight times then stuck my prick right in again.   He started to
moan again and shot a load of spunk up over himself.  I fired my load
into him then pulled out.

He got up immediately and looked at himself in a mirror.   His body was
all red and there was a trace of blood oozing from one corner of his
mouth.  "Beautiful", he said, "Really beautiful"

I just lay on the bed trying to put my thoughts in order.   I had really
hurt that guy and he enjoyed it.  I couldn't understand it but I knew I
wanted to do it again.  It was the same feeling as when I looked
threatening, but multiplied by ten.   I had discovered that not only did
I like fucking men; I liked it more if it was done roughly, and I had
also discovered that actually hitting someone felt a lot better than just
looking as if I might.   Things were definitely looking up.

Chapter Two



A few weeks later, I was standing in a gay bar looking around.   By now I
had discarded tee shirts for polo shirts and a belt for braces, so I was
attracting a some attention   I was just discovering the gay scene and I
wasn't sure that I liked it:   there seemed to be a lot of very
effeminate men about, which really put me off. I recognised the married
man I had fucked standing in a corner and when he saw me he came hurrying
over.   He wanted to buy me a drink, he wanted to tell me what a great
"master" I was, which I didn't fully understand and he wanted to tell me
that he had told a friend about me and the friend was really keen to meet
me.   I wasn't sure at first but he assured me that his friend was very
much into the same as him so I said, "OK".  He told me his name was Jack
and his friend was called Freddy then he telephoned his friend to say we
were on our way and we left the pub and got a taxi to a very good part of
town.

We arrived at a large detached house and rang the bell, which was
answered by a guy who looked about 45, 5'10"tall and was about a stone
overweight.   He was totally naked except for a leather jockstrap and a
dog collar and he started "Oooing" and "Aaaing" at me and pawing my
crotch so I slapped him away.   He dropped to his knees and started
licking my boots and begging me to forgive him and asking me to follow
him.  He led us to a back room without windows, which was decorated
totally in black.   There were some bars against one wall with restraints
attached and another wall was fitted with racks holding whips, chains and
canes.  Another part had various cuffs and restraints along with leather
blindfolds and masks.   The third rack had different sized dildoes and
plugs lined up in order of size.  In the centre of the room was a table
with metal restraints attached to one end and a leather sling hanging
from a beam. I didn't know what half of it was for, but I was really
turned on just looking at it.

Freddy asked me what experience I had had with S&M and after he explained
what that stood for I had to admit that my only experience had been with
Jack.   He then explained carefully about code words, what they were for
and when to use them.  His choice was "Amber" and "Red", Amber meaning
pause, slow down, let me get myself together before continuing: Red
meaning Stop.   He explained the importance of mutual trust, of the
danger of getting carried away, and when he was sure I understood, he
said "Well, Sir, if you are willing, shall we start?"   I was well up for
it so he took me over to the racks and selected a three-stranded whip
about 4' long with a shaped handle.  Each strand was a strip of leather
about 1cm thick and 2cm wide.

"I would like it, Sir, if you would deliver 12 strokes of this whip
across my bare arse", he said.   "When you have done this you can decide
for yourself what else you wish to do."  At that he laid his body across
the table with his arse at the end and his legs dangling.

I threshed the air a couple of times to get the feel of it then I swung
it round and brought it down across his arse as hard as I could.   The
bastard didn't even flinch, even though two welts came up immediately.  I
aimed lower and whipped him again causing the flesh on his arse to
ripple. After hitting him five times I realised he was watching and
waiting for each blow so I went over to the wall and got a blindfold and
put it over his eyes, then I delivered the other seven lashes, by which
time his arse was one complete mass of red.

Freddy quietly said "Amber" so I stopped and stepped back.   He reminded
me that he was now in my hands; so I went back to the rack and selected
single-strand woven leather whip about 5' long.  It was semi-rigid and
felt good in my hand.   I went back to the table and brought it down
quickly across the middle of his back and he screamed for the first time,
begging "Please, Sir, not my back, please" I stepped back for a second
but realised he hadn't used a code word so I hit him again.

This whip left a more distinct mark, not only raising a welt but also
showing tiny spots of blood.   He was making a lot of noise and I
considered gagging him but I liked the sound of him suffering.  He kept
putting his hands around to try to protect him so I pulled his arms
forward and secured him with the restraints.  I got a medium sized dildo
and rammed it up his arse telling him that if he let it slip out I would
stop, then I hit him three times more. He called "Amber" and said that he
didn't know if he could go on.   I removed the blindfold and let him see
me undress and when he saw my dick he wanted more.  I blindfolded him
again and got a cane, it was excellent.   Going back to his arse it was
raising fresh welts across the mass of red, making him yelp like a dog
and making me hard as fuck.  Jack was standing in a corner watching all
of this with his dick in his hand and a look of want on his face.   I
called him over, cuffed his hands behind his back, blindfolded him and
sent him back to the corner.

I saw that the end of the table had pull-out extensions to support his
legs so I set them up and when he was laid out I was able to take the
cane across the back of his legs.

I uncuffed him and turned him onto his back then fastened him down again.
  I saw that his dick was only about 3 ½-4" long but his balls were about
twice the size of anything I had seen before.  I grabbed onto them and
pulled hard and couldn't believe how far they stretched, I was able to
twist them several times before he screamed. His nipples were also big, I
knew nothing of pumps and things then, and I grabbed each one and pulled
and twisted on them.

I knew that it would not be possible to beat a man's chest as hard as his
back, but I got two leather laces from the shelf and whipped his chest,
tits and cock and balls. I tied one lace around each nipple and pulled on
them with one hand while pulling his balls with the other.   I got
another lace and put it around his balls and managed to tie them
together, the nipples pulling down and the balls pulling up, then I
raised his legs on the rests and hit him with the cane across the arse
several times.   Every time I hit him his body arched pulling both tits
and balls at the same time.

By this time he was just whimpering saying "No more" then "Yes".
Finally he called Amber and said that he would need a rest if I wanted to
continue, but pleaded for me to fuck him, to give him my dick.  I removed
his blindfold then dragged Jack over and made him kneel over Freddy's
face, unfastening his cuffs but warning him against touching Freddy in
any way.   I got behind him and rammed my dick into his arse as hard as I
could.  I did this 4 or 5 times, withdrawing fully each time, then
settled into a steady fuck.   All the time Freddy was whimpering, "No,
no, do me, please, PLEASE" I came pretty fast and when I withdrew my dick
was really dirty.  Freddy reached up with his mouth to take it in his
mouth.   I let him almost reach before pulling it back and wiping it off
on Jack's arse then got off the table.  Freddy started pleading "Sit on
me, Jack, let me have his juice"

As I got dressed, I could here Freddy sucking, lapping and felching at
Jack's arse.   I opened the door and said "I'll let myself out"



Chapter Three

The next few weeks were pretty busy getting ready to go to university,
where I was to study law, but I was also working on my look.   My hair
was now in a No.1, which I trimmed twice a week. I also stood in front of
a mirror for hours practicing my stare, how to hold a cigarette properly,
how to get my bulge showing to best advantage.   Of course, although I
didn't realise it then, I still wasn't a skinhead, just a guy wearing
skin gear, but I liked how I looked and wanted to make the most of it.
My various Levis were each washed and pressed after ever wear and my
boots were constantly shining.

One day walking down the road, a BMW pulled up beside me and when I
looked round, Freddy was sitting in the back seat.   To be honest, in a
crowd I wouldn't have recognised him, he was wearing a very well cut navy
suit a white shirt with a silk tie and gold cuff links.  He lowered the
window and said "Excuse me, young master, but I have been driving around
this area for two days looking for you, could I have a word with you?
Would you join me for lunch at The Palace? (a really good
restaurant/hotel a few miles away).  I agreed and he opened the door for
me to get in.   .  He immediately explained that he wanted to thank me
for my performance and also to offer some advice.  I looked towards the
driver and Freddy laughed and said, "Don't worry, that is Robert, my
minder.  He runs my house, drives me around and takes care of my needs".
  Robert was about28-30, 6'2" tall and Italian looking.  "Robert is
versatile", Freddy said, "He can take pain and dish it out."  Robert gave
a half smile and kept driving but I could see him studying me in the
mirror.

We had a nice lunch, me talking about my plans for University and after,
and Freddy telling me something of his life as a businessman.   He was an
investor with serious money in some very good companies.  After dessert
we had a large brandy each and Freddy finally got down to business.   He
explained that he had been very impressed by my abilities, especially
accounting for my age, but that I had a lot to learn if I wished to
develop my talents.  He told me that he had a Master visit him regularly
and proposed that I attend the next session in three days time.   He
assured me that my involvement would be as much as Master Tom would allow
or as little as I wanted, but I would have a chance to learn in a way
that would take many months from reading.   I readily agreed.

Three days later I went, as invited, to Freddy's house and the door was
opened by Robert wearing leather trousers, biker boots a harness and a
Muir Cap (as I later found it to be called).   He showed me through to
the lounge where Freddy was lying naked on the floor licking a guy's
boots.  He introduced me to the guy giving his name as Master Tom, but I
decided there and then that he wasn't, nor ever would be, my master, so I
stuck my hand out and said "Hi, Tom, good to meet you".   He shook my
hand heartily then stood back to eye me up.  I returned the look and was
impressed, although he wasn't at all my type.    He was about 40, taller
than me and about 18 stone of muscle.  He was wearing a metallic codpiece
with leather chaps and waistcoat.  He was exceptionally hairy and both
nipples were pierced.

He ordered Freddy on to his knees and made him crawl to the playroom.  As
we walked through, Robert felt my arse, so I turned and gave him a look
that said, "DON'T".   In the playroom Tom offered me a leather jockstrap
if I wanted to wear it so I went out, stripped off completely, put the
jockstrap on then put my DM's back on and went into the room.   Tom
started to talk to me like a kind teacher explaining a science
experiment.  He explained the different effects of tying someone down or
suspending him, then the variations of both, tying to a bench as I had
done, putting into the sling, fastening to the wall or, as he had decided
upon this time, cuffing to a pulley.   Meantime Freddy was standing back,
eyes down, completely naked.  A rope was loosened from a wall hook and a
pair of padded cuffs were lowered from the ceiling.   They were closed
around Freddy's wrists then Robert started to hoist him stopping only
when his toes barely touched the floor.  Tom invited me to choose a whip
and make the first strike.   I selected a riding crop and lashed at
Freddy with all my strength making him gasp.  As I raised the crop again,
Tom caught my wrist and said, "Firstly, I offered the first strike.
Secondly, I want to explain what you did wrong.  You chose a severe whip
and hit him with force.  After a dozen of those, anyone would be calling
'Red' and ending your fun.   You must start gradually, warming him up,
and then he is yours for hours.  With the best training and long
experience you can use a body for a week or more" He took the riding crop
back to the rack and picked up a long leather whip with three or four
short tails on the end.   Standing well back he swung the whip to the
side then cracked it forward so that it just kissed Freddy's arse. He
flicked it back several times and did the same thing, each time hitting a
different part of each buttock.   Then he swung it again wrapping it
round Freddy's waist and upper body.  The strange thing was, he was
hardly making a mark.   He then ordered Freddy to be lowered and he
pulled a leather-covered 'horse' forward and bent Freddy over it securing
his hands and ankles on either side with his arse straddling the top.
He took the three-stranded whip I had used the first time and went back
to work Laying into that arse, lower back and upper legs.  Again he
wasn't doing it really hard, just marking him and no more, but he must
have hit him about 30 times.   During all of this he kept up a running
commentary on what he was doing, explaining techniques and effects.

When Freddy was nice and crimson, he loosened the ties and led him to the
table, secured him face-up and then ordered Robert to fetch candles.   He
got a gag from the wall and fastened it over Freddy's mouth and told me
of hand signals to watch for when the person couldn't speak.  He lit a
candle and let it burn for a few moments.   Holding it high above a
nipple he tilted it slowly and dribbled the wax over the nipple,
explaining that if you hold the candle high, most of the heat has left
the wax before it hits the body.   On the other hand, holding the candle
low means maximum heat and maximum pain. With that he lowered the candle
and dropped wax on the other nipple causing Freddy to buck and moan.   He
lit another candle and gave it to me inviting me to experiment on the
upper body.  He, meantime, started to drizzle the wax over Freddy's dick
and balls, altering the height with each drop.   After a while he stopped
and let the wax harden, then he proceeded to pull it off roughly, pulling
pubic hairs with the wax. As I was watching all of this, and getting more
and more excited, I felt Robert touch my arse again, this time trying to
finger me.   I turned quickly and hit him square on the jaw, knocking him
to the floor. As he scrambled to get at me Tom stepped between us and
quietly said to me "I wonder if we could have a word outside".   I
followed him into the hallway and he turned on me with fire in his voice
and said "Firstly, Don't EVER lose your temper in a playroom when you
have control of another being, that's what leads to accidents, death and
prison.   Secondly, if you want to go around punching people, get
yourself some muscle, you're in good shape but you need a lot more work
to get you fit."  I started to say that I was fit enough to floor Robert
but he shut me up and said "You got a lucky punch when he wasn't
expecting it, if I hadn't stepped in he would have beaten you to a pulp.
  OK, lets go back, but first, I want an apology, you upset my training,
I won't have that, Understand?"

It stuck in my throat but I managed to say that I was wrong and I was
sorry.  He smiled, we went back into the playroom and he turned on
Robert, calling him a shitty second-rate assistant who should know better
and threatening not only to expel him from future training, but also to
order Freddy to sack him.   I don't know if Freddy would have done it,
but he obviously thought it a possibility.  He knelt before Tom begging
forgiveness and promising to be better.   Tom told him to apologise to me
and he crawled to my feet uttering the same apologies.  Tom told him to
stand against the wall bars, hands on his head.   He picked up the
three-stranded whip and said "Six Lashes", then he handed me the whip,
saying that it was not fun but a punishment.  I stepped to the side of
him and brought the whip across his arse with force.   Six times I
whipped him and six times he said "Thankyou, Sir".  I turned and put the
whip back on its rack and Tom told him he could return to watch.

We unfastened Freddy and he was put across the 'Horse' again.  Tom got a
chain with weights attached and fastened it around Freddy's balls then
got tit-clamps and fitted them, then chose a lash made of about twenty
narrow leather strips and started whipping Freddy hard all over his back
and arse, this time with more force than before, almost like beating a
carpet.   He stopped after about twenty lashes and knelt to examine
Freddy's arse, sticking several fingers in and turning them.  He then
went to Freddy's head and did the same to his mouth.   "Heads or Tails",
he asked.  Thinking he was going to toss a coin, I said "Heads" but he
just said "OK, and took his codpiece off, went behind Freddy and rammed
his dick into him.   Realising I had "heads", I put my hand under
Freddy's chin, raised his head and stuck my dick into his mouth and down
his throat.  He gagged a bit but kept it in, partly because he was being
pushed onto it from the other end by Tom.   I was able to fuck his mouth
and reach under and grab onto the tit clamps and pull on them.

I was enjoying this but really wanted an arse, mouth work is OK for
starters but I know how I like to finish.   I was going to suggest a swap
with Tom when I remembered Robert standing behind me.

I turned and said "You, on the table, stripped, legs up, NOW"

He dropped his trousers and lay on the table, hands behind his knees.
Tom winked at me and I drew my dick out of Freddy's mouth, went to the
table and stuck it into Robert.   It felt really hot, probably from the
whipping.  While I fucked him I could watch Tom at work, pounding his
meat into Freddy then stopping.   Starting again, drawing it right out
then sticking it back.  He was sticking two of his fingers into Freddy,
stretching him wider as he fucked him.   I was getting nearer and nearer
to climax but wanted to hold back until Tom came.  Finally I could see
that he was nearing a climax and I picked up my own speed.   I shot a
healthy load into Robert, causing him to shoot his own load that splashed
everywhere, then seconds later Tom hit the spot and fired his spunk into
Freddy while slapping and hitting him across the back.

When we had cooled down and withdrew, Robert surprised me by asking for
my permission to get off the table, which I gave.   Tom came over, put
his arm around my shoulders and led me to the lounge, turning at the
door, saying to Robert, "You can fuck him if you want, but don't loosen
the ties"

Sitting down together with a whisky, me with a cigarette, him with a
cigar he told me stories of his exploits, detailing what different men,
or 'Subs' as he called them wanted and how he satisfied them.   He told
me where I had been good and where I had failed and promised me more
training should I want it, which I accepted.  Over the next few years
whenever I was home I would join in with him, firstly with Freddy but
later with other Subs.   As he said that day, when I had Freddy to myself
I enjoyed myself for nearly an hour, today we had fun for over three
hours, and Freddy was still in the playroom tied up awaiting more
treatment later in the day.

As I left I could hear Robert fucking Freddy calling him dirty names.  I
thought to myself that if I wanted a life where I could do what I wanted
when I wanted and do it with the best, I had to work hard, make a lot of
money and spend it having fun.