Date: Wed, 31 Jan 2007 09:38:49 -0800 (PST)
From: NiteSearcher2000 <nitesearcher2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: Pool Table and my Balls Chapter 31

This story is not completely fictional. Nor is it the
truth and nothing but the truth. The names have
definitely been changed to protect the guilty. We are
all disease free and stay that way by protecting
ourselves whenever we play with anyone but each other.
Descriptions of unprotected sex are fictional because
I'm imaginative and not stupid.

You know the rules... Don't read this if you're a
minor or are offended by gay or BDSM expression. Don't
even think about reproducing or publishing it without
my permission. Remember, I have sadistic friends who
like to punish people! <<evil grin>>

NOTE: I know it's been a long time between chapters
and I'm really sorry for that. Thank you for your
patience. I've gone back to school and I'm taking
writing courses. I'm working with two publishers on
two different projects. I'm really getting into this
writing thing!! Thank you all for your encouragement!

Chapter 31

Settling into the new house and the new routine took
us a few weeks. Some of the cabinets and closets had
to be rearranged to work out better. Sometimes we
couldn't find things even though we both thought we
knew exactly where they were. We also ended up with
lots of duplicates when we blended the two households
even though we thought we did a good job figuring out
what we were keeping from each house and, of course,
there were some things we both got rid of, that we
needed, and had to end up replacing them.

Fortunately, the commute took only a few minutes
longer and was well worth the increased space,
comfort, and ambiance of our new home. It was a
pleasant and welcome perk that our friends and family
used the pretty much non-existent commute as an excuse
to stay over. It was fun having company around and the
help was very much appreciated.

We also helped Greg and David move into our old
houses. We had remodeled and renovated both of them
and sold them in move in condition so they had much
less to do. They also didn't have the complication of
blending two people and households so it went really
smoothly.

It felt really good to have "our" place. It was
natural. It came relatively easy. I guess the timing
was right for both of us. The rules were set as we
went along and settled in and adjustments and
adaptations were made as necessary or desired. I'm not
allowed to piss or crap in the house. Steven had me
build a small pit in the yard that I have to straddle
to relieve myself. I use the garden hose to clean
myself afterwards and the water is so fucking cold I
never get used to it. I also have to clean out the pit
daily.

The first morning in the house I was shocked when he
handed me his wet towel after showering. I hung it up
for him and went to grab a fresh one out of the linen
closet. His tone was both serious and mocking when he
asked, "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Grabbing a fresh towel for my shower, Sir." I was
honestly confused.

"No. From now on you just use mine when I'm done.
There's no reason to soil two." He just kept his gaze
on me steady and strong.

I said nothing else and just put the clean towel back
in the closet before stepping into the shower. I used
his wet towel to dry off and still felt damp
afterward. I kind of liked his lingering scent on it
though. When I stepped out of the shower I noticed
that he'd left his underwear and socks on the floor in
front of the hamper instead of putting them in it for
himself. This was new. He'd always been very neat, but
it was certainly no big deal. I dropped them into the
hamper before going naked into the bedroom to get
dressed. He used the same tone as before when he
asked, "Where are the underwear and socks I left for
you?"

"I put them in the hamper. I thought they were yours
from yesterday, Sir."

"They are. They're good enough for you to wear. Go get
them and put them on." His stance was unwavering.

I'm really particular about my clothes and don't like
this. "Sir, I've already put them in the hamper may I
just wear fresh ones."

"No. You should be glad to share my things. Your
attitude just got you ten lashes with the belt so bend
over the bed. You know the position."

What attitude? I just asked a question. I tried to
keep my resentment from showing as I bent over the
footboard and clasped my hands behind my back. He
fucking lashed my ass hard, harder than usual. I also
know he can count so it was no accident that he landed
twelve good ones, instead of ten. When he was finished
his command was low in volume but strong in intent,
"Now go dig a pair of underwear and socks out of the
hamper to wear." I did as I was told I walked back
into the bedroom to find a plain white shirt and
boring tie to wear laid out on the bed. I didn't dare
say a word, as I got dressed. His smirk communicated
all he wanted to say.

My ass was still hot and stinging as I got in the car
to head to work, but I pretty much forgot about it by
the time I got there. My secretary met me in the hall.
Taking my briefcase from me she passed on the message,
"Boss man wants to see you, now." Fuck! Thieday just
keeps getting better.

I smile my best smile for his secretary as I approach
him. "He wants to see me?"

"Yes. He said to have you stand there," he points to
the corner, "until he's ready for you."

I know I shouldn't, but I have to ask, "Does he do
this to everyone?"

He holds up his hands in surrender, "No, just you." He
quickly looks down as if he's afraid I'm going to take
it out on him. I know it's not his fault. I go and
stand in the corner. He keeps me waiting for nearly
forty-five minutes and I control my temper by
reminding myself that he's paying me a hell of a lot
of money to stand here and do nothing. It's still
humiliating as all hell, especially as his secretary
keeps looking up at me with pity in his eyes.

Finally I get called in but I'm not invited to sit
down. He gets right to the point. "I heard you entered
the charity pool match. Are you any good?"

I have no idea where he's going with this. "I'm pretty
good. I was ranked number one in my college and took
the state, regional and national championships three
years in a row."

"Why didn't you go pro?" He asked.

The answer seemed pretty obvious to me. "I got a great
job offer right out of college and thought it was
prudent to take it." It came out a little sarcastic
when I wanted it to come out in a more joking tone.
There was no look of amusement on his face. I back
peddled quickly, "I'm sorry. That didn't come out
right. I saw working for you as a great opportunity
and I was grateful you gave me the chance. I still
am." I was rambling and digging myself in deeper so I
decided to just shut up.

He let the silence hang there and watched me squirm
for a minute before he talked again. "This is a worthy
cause and an opportunity for some good P.R. and free
advertising. I'll sponsor you a thousand dollars a
ball over your opponent's score."

I didn't think he understood what he was committing
to. "With all due respect, Sir, that could get
expensive."

"How expensive?"

"I've had my share of perfect games. It could cost you
fifty thousand dollars if I shoot a perfect game and
my opponent never gets to take a shot. It's a long
shot but still a possibility."

He contemplates that a minute. "You shoot a perfect
game and I'll double it and donate one hundred
thousand dollars. It will be worth all the publicity
we'll get."

I had to ask, "And if I should lose?"

"Let's just say that if you embarrass me like that
I'll embarrass you more, much more. Do we understand
each other?" His voice was cool and calm and I knew he
meant it. This was a lot more pressure than I was
anticipating in addition to the bet Steven made with
Michael.

"Yes, Sir^Å we understand each other."

"Good, and another thing, your hair is getting way too
long. I don't like it."

What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I knew this was
going to be a problem. I can only hope he'll
understand. "Sir, Steven wants it long and has forbid
me to cut it." It sounds lame even as it's coming out
of my mouth, but fuck, he knows the nature of my
relationship and that I really have no choice.

"Well, let's see if he's willing to suffer the
consequences of his choices. Starting today you get
your ass paddled every day until you get your haircut.
Let's see how he likes that."

I'm totally stymied by this! "But, he will like that^Å"
I say it more to myself than to him as the realization
of it hits me.

"Good. I like it too. So it works out for everyone.
Drop your pants and bend over the chair." I can't
fucking believe this is happening and just stand there
like a moron. "What part of my instructions didn't you
understand?" I open my belt and unbutton my pants half
expecting him to say he's just joking. I slowly slide
them down along with my underwear giving him more time
to change his mind. I bend over the chair and gather
my shirttail and jacket up exposing my ass to him.
"It's already reddened. You just can't seem to escape
it, can you?" The paddle lands down hard on my ass and
I'm quickly aware of how hard I was strapped this
morning. He lands ten solid ones and my ass is
screaming and searing by the time he's done. I'm also
well aware that his secretary has to be hearing this
and I'm dreading facing him. "I'll see you tomorrow at
8:45 sharp. This is on your time, not mine, so you can
come in early to get your ass paddled. Dismissed."

I dress quickly and slink out of the office. His
secretary never looks up and I don't say a word. I'm
grateful for his tact. I work out all of my anger and
frustrations by working furiously and even amaze
myself with how much I get done. I'm feeling much
better by the time I get home.

I see the note taped to the inside door as I pull my
car into the garage. My heart speeds up as I hurry to
read it. Of course it is from Steven. "Strip naked.
Find your cage and lock yourself in it. I want you on
your knees, forehead on the floor, hands behind your
back. OBEY!" Shit^Å

I find the cage in middle of the living room. It is a
pretty standard metal dog kennel. I crawl in naked and
get into the position he described. It's pretty
fucking tight. My feet and ass are up against the back
end while my head is hitting the front end. I have to
squeeze my hands between the top of the cage and my
back. I brace my spread knees against the sides. The
small size of the cage actually makes it easier for me
to maintain the position because it is partially
supporting me. It's not so bad^Å for a while. It
becomes increasingly uncomfortable as time passes and
it is boring as hell. I think about relaxing my
position but then think better of it. It has backfired
every time I've done it. But, as more time passes I
wonder if I was supposed to clean up first before
getting in. I break out in a sweat thinking about how
I might have misunderstood and fucked this up. I
wonder if I should open the cage, clean up, and get
back in. I wonder what time it is because, of course,
he positioned it where I can't see the clock. I don't
know what the fuck to do and keep trying to figure it
out until I hear the garage door open and his car pull
in. I take a deep breath to prepare myself for
whatever is going to happen.

I cringe as I hear him talking and realize he's not
alone. I can hear them talking and know he has at
least Craig and David with him. My heart speeds up as
I hear them in the kitchen. They are obviously in no
hurry to see me. I'm getting more and more antsy and
uncomfortable waiting for them.

Finally, they come into the living room. "Ass crack
and ball sack. Definitely your best features." I feel
my asshole being poked and probed with some kind of
stick as Steven talks to me. "Where'd you get these
bruises on your ass? I know you didn't get them from
my belt."

"My boss paddled my ass because he doesn't like my
long hair. He said he's going to do it every day until
I cut it." They burst out laughing.

Steven continues, "This just keeps getting better.
It's your ass so it's not my problem."

"There's more, Sir. He also said he's going to donate
a thousand dollars a ball for every ball over my
opponent in the charity pool match. If I shoot a
perfect game he'll double it but if I lose he said
I'll be punished for embarrassing him."

"Rightfully so. I'm sure it won't compare to what I'll
do to you. I'm not the only one who's going to get
fucked if you lose. If I'm fucked, you're totally
fucked, so make damned sure you win." Steven's tone is
threatening and stern.

"I didn't intend for all this..." My words were cut
off by him pushing the stick up my asshole.

"This whole fucking thing was your idea so don't give
me any shit about it now. You created this situation
so you either make it turn out right or you pay the
price for it." He slides whatever it is in and out of
my ass. "The conversation is over. I don't want to
hear another fucking word about it. Now let's get you
out here cause we need a couple of holes to fuck."

Craig drops his pants and sits back on the coach.
Pointing his hard dick toward me his command is
simple, "suck." I crawl over to suck him off and David
lifts my ass up to his crotch. I feel his hard dick
against my hole and push back as he enters me. The
pain is intense and I push all the way down on Craig's
dick to distract myself from it. I suck him off as
David fucks me hard. "Come on, bitch, put out for us."
Steven sits back and enjoys the show as I serve them
both. I work Craig's dick with my hands as I suck him
off. He shoots his load in my mouth and I'm again
amazed that he tastes just like Steven. David pushes
me down on all fours and power fucks me hard. He moves
me across the floor pounding into my ass and presses
me down to the floor as he lies on top of me and
shoots his load deep inside of me. We lay there a
couple of minutes to catch our breath. They dress as I
clean up and we enjoy dinner afterwards. I feel
awkward and uncomfortable being butt ass naked, but
keep my mouth shut about it.

After dinner we go into the pool room together. Steven
gives the rules, "Here's the deal, you shoot, we
watch. You miss a ball we paddle your ass. Simple,
right?"

"Yes, Sir^Å but if I just play by myself it isn't the
same. If I play myself I set up all my next shots. If
I'm playing someone else I don't want to set it up too
well in case I miss. Then they can run the table."

"Then don't miss." His tone is menacing. I run a
couple of racks before I miss a shot. The paddle
across my ass takes my breath away. It hurts so
fucking bad! "I told you not to miss." I play three
games of fifty and take about a dozen really hard
whacks across my ass as I miss. twelve out of a
hundred and fifty shots is pretty good and. although
my ass hurts, I'm really pleased with how it went.

There's practice time built into every evening. We
stick to the technique of my ass being paddled every
time I miss a shot. There's a big difference between
getting spanked during sex or during a scene and just
having to bend over in front of anyone who's there and
getting a real hard crack across the ass. One night my
game was off and my ass was killing me. I was becoming
panicked by the idea of my ass being paddled again and
it was throwing my game off. I lost it as I missed
another shot, "Oh fuck! Come on! My fucking ass is
killing me! Why don't you bend over and I'll paddle
your stupid ass so you know what the fuck it feels
like?" The silence is instant and deafening. Steven
has no reaction other than to cross his arms in front
of his chest. I look around the room at everyone and
"sober up" quickly realizing how badly I just fucked
up and embarrassed him in front of everyone. I look
back at Steven and he takes a step toward me. I
instantly drop to my knees. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm
really sorry. Oh please, no please." His belt is out
of his pant loops by the time he reaches me. "Oh come
on, please." He folds the belt in half and grabs me by
my hair and pushes me down to the floor. The first
lash is sharp and stinging. More follow in rapid
succession. Besides the fact that it hurts like a
mother fucker I really feel bad about it. I squirm and
beg frantically. I'm literally reduced to tears. When
he stops, I apologize over and over through my tears.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean it. I got upset
because I was shooting like shit." He lets the silence
hang like he always does. One last try, "I'm so
sorry." He always stays so calm, cool and collected.
It's totally unnerving. I try to stop the tears and
desperately try to control myself from moving. It's
like my hands have a mind of their own and keep going
to my aching ass. I clutch them behind my back trying
to get control of myself.

He finally breaks the silence. "That beating was to
get your attention. The next one is going to be for
behaving like a spoiled little brat and throwing a
tantrum like a fucking two year old. The one after
that is going to be for being so disrespectful." He
lets that sink in. "Then you're going to get another
beating for forgetting your place." Again, he lets
that settle in. "Then you're going to spend the rest
of the night kneeling in the corner until bed time. By
the way, you're sleeping on the basement floor until
further notice." My despair turns to panic as it sinks
in that all of that is going to happen tonight.

"You guys staying for the show?" I'd forgotten that
Craig, David, Josh and Joey were even there.

"Fuck yeah! I wouldn't miss it." Craig is smiling ear
to ear.

"I'm in." David adds quickly.

"You might as well help then. Someone should enjoy
this." The belt lands again with the last word of his
sentence. All of my emotions come to the surface and I
cry my eyes out. I take it as long as I can and then
beg him to stop. My ass is absolutely ablaze! It feels
like it's on fire. He sits back until I stop crying
and compose myself. "Tell me when you're ready."

I sob again at the thought of what's coming. I know he
won't relent. I pull it together and tell him I'm
ready.

"Lie on your back. Hold his legs apart for me." They
grab my ankles and pull them up and apart exposing my
inner thighs. The belt slashes across the sensitive
area and I involuntarily squirm and cry out. David
puts his foot on my pelvis to pin me down.

Craig puts his foot across my mouth to shut me up,
"Shut the fuck up bitch and stop being such a pussy."

Steven keeps at it until my thighs are screaming. The
tears are streaming down my face. My thighs are bright
red and welted when he stops and they let go.  I roll
around on the floor. "Tell me when you're ready. We'll
be in the kitchen." They walk out and leave me there.
I lay there feeling sorry for myself until I get
pissed for bringing this on myself. I get up and walk
into the kitchen, drop to my knees, and wait for them
to stop joking around and acknowledge me.

"I'm ready, Sir."

"On your back douche-bag." Craig is on me in a flash.
His hand lands rapid slaps all across my stomach
giving me a pink belly. I take it until I'm ready to
scream and involuntarily sit up. He waits a couple of
seconds and pushes me back down and repeats the
process hitting me harder than the last time. I clench
my stomach muscles, hold my breath, and pull up
tighter and tighter until exhale in a scream and curl
up into a fetal position when I can't stand it
anymore. He calmly waits. "Again." I glance at my
reddened stomach and get back in position without
complaint. He does it again hitting harder than
before. I lean my face against his shoulder as I let
him assault my stomach. I gasp in air realizing I've
been holding my breath. I sob into his shoulder and he
stops. I whisper thank you over and over and nuzzle
into his shoulder. My stomach is bright red and
screaming. He eases me back down and motions David and
Steven over. Steven holds my arms together above my
head while David holds my ankles. I cringe as Craig
picks up the belt from the table. Oh fuck! Oh fuck! I
scream with the first lash and through the next nine.
I lay there panting even when they let go.

David sets a small glass of water on the floor next to
me and says, "Let us know when you're ready. We'll be
in the basement waiting."

I sit up to drink the water and have to change
position because it hurts too much to sit on my ass. I
look at my body and how red and welted it is. This is
no fucking fun and I might as well get it over with. I
make my way down to the basement.

They are all shirtless and waiting for me. David holds
the flogger. "Fetal position, face down. I want your
back." I can't count the number of blows that land. I
curl up tighter and tighter. It doesn't hurt less but
it feels safer. I say nothing until he stops on his
own, and then all I say is thank you, Sir. They walk
out without saying anything. I curl up on the floor
with no hope and no desire to escape the pain and how
shitty I feel.

I hear the door to the basement open and hear one set
of foot prints coming down the steps. I get up on my
knees and put my hands behind my back. Steven moves in
front of me and spreads his legs. I kiss each of his
feet and put my forehead on the floor between them and
clasp my hands behind my back again.

"Can we talk? Equal time?" I'm asking permission but
know he'll be present to me. He sits on the floor.

"Sure. What's up?" His concern is evident. "You said
equal time. Get up."

A warm feeling floods through me. I stay on my knees
and put my head in his lap. I tell him softly, "I love
you. I really, really love you more than I ever knew I
could love anyone. I know now that I've always loved
you. I am so grateful for you in my life and for all
you've done for me. I am so much more with you than I
ever could have been on my own. Thank you, Steven."
His hand brushes through my hair. His caress is so
gentle and affectionate. He pulls me up to face him
and puts his forehead against mine. So much passes
between us in that moment.

 "This is it, right? We've both got what we want?" I
hear the longing in his voice.

"Yes, Sir."

"This isn't a scene tonight. This is real. You've got
to learn this lesson. You understand that, right?" He
gives me a simple nod as he turns away and goes back
upstairs.

I curl back up on the floor and fall asleep exhausted.
I sleep fitfully waking up every time I move because
it hurts. I'm woken up by the lights when Steven comes
down in the morning. I immediately pull my self up to
my knees.

"You're a mess. Look at yourself." The inside of my
thighs are all black and blue and welted. My stomach
is red, with screaming welts and even a little broken
out in a rash. I try to see my ass, but just from
seeing it from the side I know it is all bruised. "I
can see the lash marks on your back from the flogger.
I don't ever want a repeat of last night. Do you
understand me? Now go shower."

I catch myself in the mirror after my shower and
really like what I see, including the bruises. I find
them hot and exciting. I'm in great shape but it's
more than that. I'm happy and it shows. My hair is
long and wild and my eyes are alive. My mind and body
are quick and alert. I feel strong mentally and
physically. I feel confident and secure knowing I can
take the hard lessons of life and come back better and
stronger each time. I walk into the bedroom to find
Steven waiting. He goes to my closet and pulls out a
basic business suit, plain white shirt, and a nothing
tie for me to wear. "Your socks and underwear are in
the hamper, pick out a pair." I walk back to the
bathroom smiling to myself because I finally
understand that the man makes the clothes, the clothes
don't make the man.

That pretty much set the tone of things for the next
couple of weeks. I'm pissed at the irony of things. My
boss paddling my ass in the morning pisses me off so I
go back to my office and work off my anger and
resentment being more productive than ever. Then I go
home and shoot better pool because of my ass being
paddled. The reality is I'm at the top of things. My
relationship with Steven is rock solid, my career is
going great, my pool game is on the mark and so are my
tennis game, my basketball game, and my workout
routine. I have a stability, focus and discipline I've
never had before. I have great friends and family.
Life is good, really good, and the sex has never been
better!


I promise everyone that I will see this story through
to the end!