Date: Sat, 22 Jun 2002 15:23:17 +0000
From: David Andrews <davidand123@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Meeting

A young masochist finds his master.

The meeting, from young David's angle.

My name is David, and this story is about when I was twelve years old.  It
started about the time I went to see a film called Mutiny on the Bounty, and
in which several of the men were tied up and whipped. I always became erect
when  I watched these whippings. Even if a hero in a book I was reading got
himself tied up, I used to fantasise about it and as soon as a friend told
me about masturbating I would do it while thinking about me being whipped
and tied up. This eventually led to me practising self bondage, and although
this was sort of exciting, I yearned for someone to do it with, or to be
more explicit, to do it to me!

I used to go swimming with a group of boys from an old quay in the harbour
and it always pleased me to wear the skimpiest briefs I could get hold of.
It was on one occasion down at the quay that I met this friendly young guy.
I had on a pair of briefs that tied on either side of my hips with little
lacing eyes and a couple of bits of string that I had substituted for laces.
I threaded the string directly up through the three eyes with no cross over,
so that they pulled up to a very brief side. The front would ride down to
rest just above my genitals showing the maximum amount of flat boy tummy to
any watcher and leaving a lot of sexy folds of material over my genitals.

My life changed that day as I noticed this man watching me all the time. I
say a man but I found out later that he was only about seventeen. He had
been there several days running and on this day was taking photos of me
whenever I got near him. Eventually I plucked up courage and went over to
say hello. He told me he enjoyed watching us fool around so I sat down
beside him, and stretching out in the sun let him have a good look at me.
This  he did, and seemed to find it hard to take his eyes off me.

He told me he was writing a book, and that the hero was a twelve year old
boy who was captured by the Romans and made a slave. This excited me and I
asked him if it would be possible to have a read of it. He told me he would
bring a few pages with different ideas on them, and if I like them, maybe I
would consider posing for some photos so he could use them to illustrate the
book when it was finished.

The next day he was there again, with several pages of typing and a few
sketches. He gave them to me when no one was looking and made me promise not
to let anyone else see them until they were a finished book. When I looked
at the top one I saw a nearly naked boy with his hands tied to the top of a
post. Standing behind him with a whip was a Roman soldier. My willie
immediately started to erect, so I turned the page only to find another
equally explicit picture of the same boy spreadeagled on what appeared to be
a rack. There were ropes going from each ankle and wrist, while a soldier
stood grinning at one end operating a sort of winch thing. Suddenly I
decided not to hide my erection that was by now pushing out the folds of my
briefs, but let this guy see my excitement. I leaned back even more and let
him see a twitch or two as I became more sexually turned on.

After a long chat, during which we exchanged names,  we arranged to meet up
at his parents house. We were now John and David, but in my mind I already
had cast him as my "Roman Master". His parents were away for a fortnight and
he had the run of the house. Furthermore, he told me, grinning, we could use
the dungeon in the basement that his Dad had always used when he punished
him as a youngster. I was excited and realised that this could be what I had
always yearned for.


The meeting from John's angle.

My name is John and when this was written I was nearly eighteen. I had
always enjoyed the company of young boys and spent many hours just watching
them swim and play down by the harbour. I was trying to write a book about
the exploits of a twelve year old English boy who was captured by the Romans
and became a slave to a young Roman boy. This gave me time to indulge my
fantasies of getting young boys in bondage and punishing them which was my
usual thought while jacking off at night. My favourite was the thought of a
naked boy, young smooth and tanned, tied by the wrists to the whipping post
and struggling to escape his bonds as his master whipped him. In my
fantasies the boy would then be so excited by the whipping that he would
even tell his master that he deserved more.

Then one day, my favourite boy of the group that I watched swimming, came
over and chatted to me. He wore only tiny yellow briefs, sexily tied on each
hip with old string which dangled seductively on each bronzed smooth hip. I
reckoned he was about twelve and he was quite perfect, with blonde curly
hair, blue eyes and a most marvellous tan. His skin was without blemish and
his body had no excess fat but was going lean with the beginning of muscles
forming on his flat tummy which showed so well above his skimpy briefs.

After a good chat I told him I was writing a book, and that I would show him
a few pages the next day, and while we discussed the book, and the bondage
and slavery theme I could see him start to tent out his briefs. Far from
trying to hide this, he made it more than obvious to me and I decided that I
would try and get him over to my parents house while they were away for a
couple of weeks. I told him of the dungeon room where my father had taken me
as a lad for punishment. There was still a whipping post  down there, with
the straps from ringbolts at the top, and these used to hold my wrists while
Dad laid into my butt. I would be able to explain to David how Dad would
make me strip naked before tying my wrists to the post, and how he himself
would take off his shirt and show a massive bulge of an erection in his
jeans before he laid into me.

I realise that my Dad was really responsible for my thoughts on bondage, but
I got such a kick out of it now that I was pleased it happened. Now the
thought of this lovely young boy submitting to me in that dungeon was
exciting to say the least.

David writes about the first visit.

John arranged to pick me up in his old car on the following day at a place
where we would not be seen going off together as we were both thinking my
friends might ask questions. So we met early in the morning and John drove
out to this massive old house of his parents that was down a lane in the
countryside with trees all round and so very secluded.

On arrival he put the car away in the garage and ushered me in through the
back door although there was no one around to see us anyway. He got us both
a drink of fizzy appleade which I suspect was laced with something to make
us more randy, if that was possible! We chatted about what we might do next
which led neatly to his suggestion that to get in the mood for the
photographs he wanted. Perhaps I would put on the loin cloth he had prepared
for me? I willingly agree and without further ado stripped down to my
favourite old swimming bikini that I had purposely put under my jeans as I
knew that John found them a switch on. He watched me, then put out his hand
a ruffled my hair. Look David, come and stand in front of me here, and he
plumped himself down on a settee. I will help you fasten this loin cloth and
he handed me a tiny scrap of thin cotton made into a pouch with thin leather
crotch strap and  leather cord to go around my waist.

First though, we need to get those swimmers off and he reached across to
untie the hip cords. Perhaps I was still slightly shy but I pushed his hands
away, muttering that I could manage and turning my back so he could not see
that I was already fully erect. Now then David, don't be a wimp, said John.
If you cannot keep your hands out of the way I had better tie them behind
you to get you ready for the main bondage themes. Put your hands behind you
and stand still came the order. With mounting excitement I did as I was told
and felt him putting several loops of thin cord round my wrists before
cinching it tight. This was the first time that I had been tied up by
another person, and I found it incredibly exciting especially when he turned
me back to face him and quietly undid my swimmers to drop them around my
ankles.

That is a nice willie for your age said John and he lightly brushed his hand
over it as it stuck straight out from my groin. I blushed and stuttered that
did he really think so and he assured me that it was a good one! This gave
me confidence as I stood there, naked with my hands tied firmly behind me!
John picked up the little loin cloth cum g-string and making me step into it
before pulling it up to tie very low around my waist. The little scrap of
cloth forming the pouch only just contained my pounding erection and the
leather crotch strap was tight in my bum crack. There we are he said, one
young slaveboy ready to be taken for bondage and punishment in my dungeon,
and with another hair ruffling and light pat on the bottom he guided me to a
door set in the corner of the room.

He opened the door, flicked on a light switch, and I saw steps going down.
Carefully with my bound hands I went down into a large stone cellar. The
first thing I noticed was a hefty post in the centre with eyebolts set in
the top and straps and chains hanging ready from them. Immediately afterward
I noticed several whips hanging on the walls, along with several leather
straps and gadgets that I could only guess at the use of. I realised that I
was in a fully equipped dungeon and my willie thrust the little pouch out
even tighter in front of me at the thought.


John writes now about the arrival of David at his parents house, and the
dungeon.

I met David as planned and found him waiting for me at the roadside wearing
old jeans with a white tee shirt and trainers. He gave me a cheeky grin and
hopped in the passenger side and I quickly drove away before we met any of
his friends.

Having parked the car I unlocked the back door and ushered David inside,
before locking the door again behind us so that we were totally secure. I
found us both a drink of apple juice to sort of break the ice, before
suggesting that we get in the mood for the photos I wanted to take by
dressing him up in his slaveboys loincloth.

David stripped at once to reveal that he was wearing his little bikini
swimming briefs and I felt my own erection almost bursting with anticipation
as I began to realise that this boy was willing to join in on what I had in
mind. I sat down on a settee and told him to stand in front of me, and then
started to untie the string sides of his bikini. David pushed my hands away
and turned bashfully away to do it himself, so telling him not to be a wimp
I told him I would have to tie his hands behind his back and put the loin
cloth on him myself. Immediately David obeyed, and held his hands behind him
for me to tie, and I quickly bound them tightly with the cord I had ready.
Now I turned him, undid his briefs and dropped them around his ankles so he
stood naked in front of me. His Willie was sticking straight out, ramrod
hard. He was uncircumcised and entirely hairless still and I lightly brushed
my hand over it, being careful not to take him beyond the point of no return
before we were doing my bondage thing in the dungeon.

I guided him over to the cellar door, and opening it ushered him down the
steps into my favourite place. He was wide eyed with astonishment and headed
straight over to look at the whipping post before turning to me and asking
if he was to be tied to it. I told him that yes, I wanted him tied by the
wrists as if for a whipping, and very quietly he looked me in the eye and
said, John, will you use a whip on me, please John. I have always wondered
what it would be like, he told me.

I told him that I agreed to whip him within  certain rules. Firstly there
would be no let out or safe words for him to escape. We would agree how many
lashes he would take. If he pleaded for mercy the remaining strokes would be
doubled and he would be gagged and I showed him the leather strap ball gag
and also a hood that would go over his head if he tried to make me stop. We
would write down the number of strokes so that if there was any pleading, it
could be shown to him!

I then led him over to select a whip and although he favoured the heavy
vicious knotted leather cats, I made him choose a softer wider leather multi
tail, that I knew from experience would not mark him too badly. How many
lashes do you want me to give you  I asked. Ten for a start? I want twenty
at least came the answer. Alright David, twenty it will be, and don't forget
the penalty for asking for it to be reduced!

Then  I led this gorgeous willing randy little boy over to the post and told
him to stand against it and hold his arms above his head while I buckled the
leather straps firmly around his thin wrists. Finally, telling him to stand
on tiptoe, I tightened the chains up to another notch so that his body was
stretched for his whipping.

David tells of his preparation and whipping

After John had helped me select a whip he told me the rules of his dungeon
so that there would be no way to ease the punishment. He showed me the ball
gag and hood that he would put on me if I pleaded and I thought to myself
that if it was as exciting being whipped as I thought, I could always plead
for mercy and get hooded and double dose for the end.

We agreed twenty lashes and John wrote it down. David has agreed to accept
twenty lashes on his back and bottom from John. There is to be no let out.
Any pleading means double the number and hood and gag to be put on. Then we
both signed it. I have to admit that I was almost climaxing in anticipation
as John led me across to the post and told me to hold my hands above my
head. I felt the straps tight around my wrists and then I was pulled up onto
tiptoe so that my body was stretched and held tight to the post with my
willie now crushed against the wood. John then picked up another length of
rope and tieing it around one ankle he passed it round the back of the post
to tie to the other ankle so that although I could kick a bit, my legs were
held fairly close to the post.

As I watched John pick up the whip I was both wildly excited that my dream
was about to come true, and frightened of what it may be like.

Brace yourself then David, came the order, and the first stroke landed
across my shoulders. I could not believe it as it was fairly soft and hardly
hurt at all. Please do it harder John, I told him. Again another stroke but
still not really painful. Harder please, harder and harder. Make me squirm I
shouted, and as the next four or five lashes landed with John working from
my shoulders downwards with each stroke, I started to struggle as he laid
them on harder. How is that little slaveboy he asked. Taking a deep breath I
asked him if that was the best he could do.

Right then, in that case punishment will now start, he told me. Forget the
warm up, this is now for real, and you will count out each stroke for me.
Suddenly he laid on a full blooded lash, and I gasped and screamed out, six.
Oh no you don't came Johns reply, You said it was not hard enough and I told
you we would start again. We will now do so and this starts at one!

After six strokes I was struggling, kicking my bound ankles, and sweat was
beginning to pour off my head and shoulders. John paused, laid down the
whip, and picking up his camera took several shots of me as I hung sweating
and helpless against the post. Returning to pick up the whip he asked if I
was ready, and did I think he was going hard enough yet because he thought
he might go a bit heavier if I could stand it? Do your worst I shouted, I
cannot stop you can I?

Now things really started to get tough. As I bucked and struggled the sweat
streamed down my smooth young body, down my back making the whip wet and
heavy as John laid on six more. Now we were up to twelve and I was actually
crying with the pain. I knew that my erection was at busting point but I
knew that I could not take much more without screaming for mercy and this I
knew that I must not do. John raised the whip again and landed it across my
bottom, thirteen, fourteen, and at fifteen I climaxed, crying out with an
animal type shout and cumming for the first time in my life producing sperm
in my loin cloth, before hanging limp from my wrist bonds.

Wow said John, I have heard of boys cumming under punishment, but never done
it myself of seen a boy do it. However, the next five strokes will be hard
to bear David, and I think we will take off that sticky loin cloth and leave
nice smooth skin for the whip without that leather cord. As he untied and
took away the pouch I knew that my penis was drooping and that I dreaded the
next five strokes.

John was kind in that he told me that he was going upstairs for half an hour
and would leave me tied and ready for my final strokes, so that I could get
back in the mood perhaps. With that I watched him walk away and I was left
to wait, arms aching, straps bighting into my wrists and my ankles
desperately wanting relief from being held close to the post.

Gradually, over the next half hour, my erection returned and I was able to
rub it against the post. By the time John returned I was again excited.
Conscious of my sore back, the sweat in my eyes, and awaiting the rest of my
punishment.

John looked at my erection and grinned. Good boy he said, you are ready for
more I think but I have one more little idea he said. With that, he reached
in around the post and took hold of my erection. No John, please no John, I
cannot take any more if you wank me off. Please stop!

John laughed at me. Oh you silly boy, now you have pleaded I will have to
gag you , and double the last five lashes that you have to take! Please John
I shouted, you made me say that. Ah but you said it my boy didn't you. He
let go of my erection mercifully before I came, and picking up the gag
thrust it over my head to force the ball into my mouth. The straps were
buckled over the top of my head and around my neck as I groaned and mumbled
into it. Then suddenly all went black as the leather hood was slipped over
my head.

I heard John say brace yourself, and then with a swish and thud the now
slightly wet whip landed on my naked bottom. I heaved with futile energy
against my strapped arms, and as each lash landed the pain grew larger until
I was sobbing into the gag. Last one coming up said John, and a searing pain
across my lower back signalled the end of the ordeal.

John quickly took off my hood, undid the gag, and leaning over me kissed me
gently on the mouth. Well done David, you were wonderful he said, and as his
hand slipped down to my erect penis I came again with the excitement of
having actually been made to take a whipping.

What did you think of that asked John as he undid my aching arms. Well it
hurt a lot I said, but I am just wondering what we do next time!! And with
that, we agreed to meet up again in two days time.

I hope some of you will give me feed back on this little tale. I will answer
any replies that sound interesting.  David.