Date: Sun, 12 Apr 1998 12:41:00 +0100
From: Da Copper <Bear-Cop@justdoit.ndirect.co.uk>
Subject: The Tent: M/M Bondage Level 3 - 4

-=)}*{(=-

                                Level Three

 The slave knelt before the Master, eyes lowered, waiting. His wrists
were still shackled on short leads to the collar. In his arse he wore the
training plug, comfortable and filling. The broad black disk which
prevented it moving inwards was flat against his buttocks and partly
conceal within the softness of his cheeks. He liked the feel of it, and
each new body movement brought new thrills within him.

 The Master was seated, naked, in a chair - a folding camp armchair, of
tubing and plastic canvas. He was lying comfortabley back, his legs wide
apart and his buttocks forward on the front edge of the seat. He was full,
but not stiffly erect. Now he wanted to be satisfied.

 He sat for a moment, giving the slave time to rest and enjoying the look
of the man. Then he leaned forward long enough to slip the blindfold back
into place.

 "You may use your hands, tongue and mouth to bring me pleasure until I
tell you to stop."

 The slave moved into action. He was uncertain about exactly where his
Master was. His eyes had been lowered until he had been blinded once more.
The leashes meant that his hands would not lower beyond the middle of his
chest. He fumbled forward carefully until he made some contact with the
Master's inner thighs and he got his bearings again.

 The Master found the clumsy movements - the uncertain gropings of the
sightless hands - tremendously exciting. Having found one thigh, the
slave placed his hands over the top of it and used them as a guide for
his mouth. He licked and kissed and nuzzled his way up the inside of the
thigh. When he reached the groin, the strong masculine odour made him
pause appreciatively. Then his hands were on his belly and his fingers
combing his pubic hair while the mouth went in search of the his balls.
The tongue explored every ripple in the hairy sac from its root to the
base of the cock, which the hands were now worshipping. Then the slave's
mouth opened wide and his right testicle was slowly drawn by suction into
the warm cavity. The slave felt his cock surge at this and heard the
groaning intake of breath. The same was done to the left ball. The Master
relaxed into the luxury of it. Then the slave tried for both at once. It
was tight - almost hurt as they both slipped in - but the in the wet
hotness and with the tongue churning beneath them... The Master rewarded
and encouraged the slave by carressing his head with one trembling hand.

 The slave too savoured the moment: the wrist leashes pulling against the
sides of his face as his hands formed a loose ring around the base of his
cock and pressed down, the strangely warm/cool balls filing his oral
cavity, the scent of it all filling him above and the plucking of his
anal muscles around the shaft of the plug. Enveloped in the darkness, his
senses were concentrated on the wonder of it. Then the gentle hand on his
scalp.

 He would repeat this, but now the cock demanded his attention. The balls
were gently expelled until only a last fold of their mantle remained
between his lips. He mumbled his way upwards, still keeping a rolling
fold of skin between his lips by suction until the skin was of the root
of the Master's cock. He turned his tongue into a wide, grooved blade
which he slipped slowly upwards, taking half a minute to reach the top of
the shaft. As he moved upwards to accomplish this, he felt the black
latex in his loins adjusting its position and his bowels seemed to be
melting around it.

 Then he reached the top, and his lips descended as a new velvet foreskin
over his Master's naked, flaring glans. Within, his tongue tip searched
for the salt slit, then penetrated into the hole as far as it could. Then
slowly he slipped himself over the whole length of the rod until it
filled his throat almost to gagging. He had feared anal sex, but now he
wished it were his lower hole that was sliding so over the length of the
weapon. At the thought his arse msucles gripped against the latex shaft
and he tried to imagine how that would feel to his Master's organ if
implanted within him. His own forgotten and unreachable cock felt like
hot steel stabbing out into empty space. He began to ride up and down
along the shaft, making his Master fuck his mouth but doing all the work
himself. Pleasure groans told him he was succeeding.

 Soon the Master's hips were moving upwards from the chair, joining in
the thrusting, and his hands were clamped on the slave's head and neck.
Inside the mouth, the tongue was going mad and the teeth were raking the
shaft lightly as it surged in and out. It was clear to the slave that the
Master would soon spend his substance into the welcoming throat.

 A rather shaky voice, however, managed to break the spell, telling the
reluctant slave to stop. The hands and cock seemed to have other ideas,
and it was all the slave could do to comply with the wishes expressed -
jerking his head off the shaft and, there being no other orders, falling
to suckle those balls once more.

 "I'm going to remove your blindfold and release your hands for a while -
you have certainly earned it. Then I want you to dry my balls and cock
with your hands and hair. I think it is time I tasted my slave's cock for
a change."

 The Master sat back in the chair at his ease. The slave came around to
the side, following gestures, and offered his organ, like a prime havana,
for his Master's enjoyment. He held it between his fingers, testing its
weight and solidity - passed it below his nose, enjoying its fragrance.
He held it with fingers on the tip, pulling the skin far forward, and
others using the balls as a handle while he licked its upper and lower
surfaces. He closed his lips on it, as if eating a corncob, and straked
the lower surface with his teeth, particularly near his fingers at the
head end. Elegantly he handled this prime delicacy, appreciating all its
qualities of shape, colour, texture, size and smell. And most of all the
taste.

 Next he took the glans into his mouth, exploring the foreskin and then
drawing it back to release the tip's taste fully onto his palate. His
head was still facing forward, the organ across his mouth, so that the
end was pressed against the inside of his cheek. He held it like this a
long time - playing with his tongue and teeth on it, and sucking comfort
from it. One of his hands was now behind the slave, fondling the back of
the legs, the buns and the lower back. From time to time he fingered the
plug's disk, twisting it, or plucking at it so that shock waves of
pleasure filled the slave's bowels. The other hand explored the front and
inside of the thighs, or stroked the balls. The slave had closed his now
free eyes in bliss. He was a precious thing which the Master was taking
up for his pleasure. A love-object.

 Then the slave became uncertain - was he doing enough to pleasure his
Lord? Was it time to show some initiative in his service? Gingerly he
began to caress his Master's body: one hand combing through his hair and
smoothing his cheeks and neck; the other hand started on his abdomen and
then risked moving lower to explore the top and inner surfaces of his
thighs. He wondered how much he should dare - whether to risk contact
with the actual sexual organs unasked. Then he tried it, and a warm rose
petal skin brushed the front of the shaft.

 The Master felt his tension, and reassured the tentative hand by making
slow sliding movements against it. When he was sure that it would not
alarm his servant, he moved his head to the side and encouragd the slave
to make thrusts into his oral cavity by drawing the buttocks towards him
by slow rhythmical pressure. After a while he drew the shaft from his
mouth and said, "Now I wish to savour your balls. Bring them to my mouth."

 This was difficult for the slave. He had to stand on tip toe and strain
forward in a most unnatural twist. But it was worth it: the Master sucked
and gnawed and bit and chomped on the balls, singly and together, until
the rough handling sent the slave into a pink cloud of pain and pleasure.

 "It is time we both came. You will erect the sleeping compartment so
that we may enter it and assume a comfortable sixty-nine on the bed
within. I will direct you how."

 The Master found it most arousing to watch the slave doing this. The
task was unfamiliar, but the slave showed intelligence and understanding,
needing only the barest of guidelines. Watching the naked body moving
carefully around, clad only in the collar, wrist bands and the occasional
black flash of cock ring or anal disk, stooping, stretching, bending,
crouching - the stiff member wagging in front of him... When it was done
he was almost inclined to order it undone and done again for the pleasure
of the sight of it. But even stronger urges prevailed. When the slave
stood there, holding open the unzipped door for his Master to enter,
there was no choice in the matter.

 At first he lay flat on his back, the slave crouched on all fours over
him, sucking and being felt and sucked. Then they moved on to their sides,
free legs up over each other. It was not a long encounter: they were both
too far gone to last. It was all either could do to comply with the
stated rule of the game, that the cumming should not be in each other's
mouths. The great bursts of long denied orgasms sent sperm jetting
against each other's neck and chests. Later it would be the slave's task
to clean their bodies, ready for further encounters. For the moment they
lay on into a short dreaming, feeling the cooling stickiness upon them.

 The slave dreamed of the thing he long for most and dreaded - such an
explosion of sperm taking place within his bowels - the feeling of the
the condom's sudden filling out with warmth. The Master was dreaming of
the same thing: of filling this slave with himself. In his dream he also
pictured himself receiving the same attention from this slave - why
should a Master not have it both ways?

 This slave had certainly done well. He had earned his next promotion.

                                 -)}]+[{(-

                                Level FOUR

 The slave and Master had both rested. The slave was busied tidying up
the inside of the tent, the Master watching. They had eaten. Now they
were ready for the next session.

 The slave was on the bed, lying on his back, wrists and ankles
restrained to the tent posts at the four corners. His eyes were covered
again. He knew that the Master would now torture him sexually, and his
dick was already climbing to the attention, the shaft filling and
expanding, pulling the skin slowly back over the glossy red point.

 The Master began a long way from the waiting organ. He was going to keep
the slave waiting. In this phase, the slave was to be stimulated and
stimulated, held back from the climax until his body begged for release.
Then, in a boiling rush of semen, his loins would erupt in a magnificent
and deeply satisfying explosion. He began on the lower leg, below the
knee. As the slave could only feel and hear what was going on, the first
thing he was aware, of shushing hiss, made him puzzled. Then the hands
began massaging the baby-oil mousse which had been extruded from the
aerosol into the skin of the limb. Gentle, sensuous strokes, which
explored every detail of the slave's leg, as the centre of attention
climbed higher. The leg restraints were not too tight to allow some
flexion of the legs, allowing the master to explore the undersides of the
limbs as well, right up to the crease marking the start of the buns and
the line of the groin at the front. The light oil disappeared into the
skin as the massage continued, leaving only a glossiness of the hairs and
a faint smell of almonds. One leg finished, the Master kissed the tip of
the slave's rearing penis, then traced a line of kisses down the front of
it until his mouth was in a position to suckle the balls one by one. Then
he grasped the shaft firmly in his oily hand and frigged it furiously for
a minute or so, ending abruptly, just as the slave was raising his hips
from the bed and moaning with pleasure.

 Then he left the slave strictly alone for a minute or two - standing
nearby, admiring the body before him, and giving himself a little manual
relief, for he was hard and excited too. Then he repeated the operation
on the other leg.

 The slave was expecting more of the same when the second leg had been
oiled. His prick was jutting up ready for the expected kiss. What DID
happen jolted him. At first he thought an electric current was being
passed through his prick. He heard a buzzing and suddenly something made
contact with the sensitive region below the glans on the balls side of
the prick. It felt hot and sharp and very, very exciting. Almost too
exciting - as it started to move around his prick and search out new
areas to make vibrant, he jerked back against his restraints, trying to
remove his prick from whatever it was - but the thing followed, and he
couldn't move far anyway. And as he got used to it, he reversed the
process, trying to press his organ more firmly against it, and swivel to
bring new areas into contact with whatever it was that felt so powerful
and good.

 The Master guided the vibrating head of the electric toothbrush, for
that was what the things was, around the thrashing organ - at times
cupping a hand behind it to hold the throbbing flesh still enough to
torture more. Up and down the shaft he went. He walked it around the
coronal rim outside of the foreskin, then used it to drag the foreskin
back. Changing the speed to slow, he flicked the bristles lightly across
the gleaming surface of the exposed gland. He heard little moans of
ecstacy and joy from the helpless victim. Every part of the prick he
touched and teased - even pulling the skin right forward into a puckered
sphincter, and alternately grazing and gouging it with the flying head.
He saw the balls rising and tightening as the body prepared for orgasm -
he transferred the head to the taut and wrinkled scrotum. All around them
he went, until they lowered and loosened a bit. Then back onto the head
of the penis, to the sensitive glans root. The shaft stiffened to
bursting - the eye opened - an explosion was being signalled....

 And he stopped! He did nothing. Switched off the brush. Waited until the
near orgasm subsided. This was far too soon.

 The slave had been gasping breath, ready to hold it suddenly as the
sperm came - but he was left high and dry. He had felt the first waves of
orgasm, but then his prick was suddenly without any sensation. He tried
to thrash his hips, but there was nothing to press his prick against - no
contact at all. The waves of pleasure subsided, and self-consciously he
became aware that he had clenched his toes in preparation. He let them
relax. He felt nothing more until his breathing was thoroughly normal
again. He understood the nature of his torture. How many times would this
be repeated? Would he be allowed to come at last?

 He hoped so, but not yet awhile. That had been good, and left him ready
for more, where a full orgasm would have left him wilting and useless to
give his Master further entertainment.

 This time the Master took his pleasure in the slave's mouth. First he
kissed him on the lips, fondly amd gently. Then he intruded his tongue
deep into the slave's mouth and played games with the slave's tongue.
Then he sat straddled across the servile chest, to offer his cock to the
same orifice for the slave's unseeing attentions. But only for a while.

 Then he stood away, and released the restraints. The slave was confused.
Was that it? But the voice ordered him to stand, without touching his
cock, and lie face down on the bed. The slave was in a sudden fear. Was
his arse to be violated? Was this the time that had terrified him in
anticipation?

 The restraints fitted once more, though, it became clear that it was
only time for more massage. The Master grabbed the cock, and dragged it
back against nature, to stick out, peering between the balls, where it
could be seen and touched, and not rubbed against the bedsheet to much
effect. This time the massage started at the nape of the neck, and soon
the whole of the back was gleaming in the yellow light, before further
touching rubbed the oil deep into the skin, soothing and exciting in one
movement.

 Then came the buttocks. The Master fondled and kneaded them - kissed
them and licked them, and then bit deep into them. Then came the oil, and
they were smothered in it - a large amount worked into the groove between
the buns, till it was oily and slippery with sweat. Then the Master lay
ontop of the slave with his cock sliding sweetly in that groove. The rest
of his body was in full contact with the slave beneath, revelling in the
touch of skin to skin. He smothered the neck with kisses, and turned the
head to plant them on the cheeks. And all the time the slave could feel
the hard sceptre so fear near the place he longed and feared to feel it
enter.

 While resting there, the Master oiled the arms of the slave, and even
the hands were caressed. He moved up slightly to do this, so his weapon
burned against in the small of the slave's back. He wiped his fingers
clean on the slave's hair, and gave him his fingers to suck one by one.

 The slave turned once more: the cock was once again the centre of
attention. This time it was not the Master's hands that touched it, but a
series of objects and fabrics of varying textures and temperatures -
corduroy, silk, canvas, gauze - some holding the shaft like a loose glove
for frigging, others pulled gently across the exposed surface of the
glans. Some cold. smooth metal object - a spoon the slave guessed. Some
fine sandpaper. Some leather. Some suede? He could only guess, but each
was different, and the textures excited him by their unexpectedness and
sheer variety. Was that a bunch of feathers that tickled his abdomen and
then his balls, his tits then his face? Cold metal against his nipples.
Then fabric - wool? - a sock? - over his frantic tube for a little
frigging. And again, when the burst should have come, there was a check.
This time a hard finger pressed to the root of his cock beneath the balls
aborted the flowing forth and made him spasm in vain.

 After that it all seemed a blur. Seven times in all did he come and not
come. Seven times did the waves of orgasm start then leave him
unsatisfied, till he was beginning to scream that THIS time he should be
brought properly off. And interludes when his Master's prick was given to
a hand, to his mouth once more, rubbed against the swelling muscles of
this thigh. Sometimes his Master's hand it was, sometimes his mouth,
sometimes some other vibrating object or textured fabric, that brought
him so near to the point of climax. During this period sometime his
Master massaged the belly, the chest, the face. The Master licked and
sucked and bit his nipples. Pushed his face deep below the balls to kiss
the very insides of the buns themselves.

 The butt plug was removed, and the Master's fingered explored the very
depths of the slave's bowels, seeming to find some magic spot within him
that was the root all sensation, of new pleasure waves - actually the
prostate gland. With his hand inside probing, his mouth on the balls, and
his hand pumping determinedly on the cock, the Master brought him to the
edge once more, and this time threw him over, till he felt himself
hurtling to paradise, while his cock jetted sperm high into the air, four,
five times, to land in sticky cooling blobs all over his chest and
stomach. He almost passed out with pleasure. Certainly he lay there
stunned for a while. The Master covered his face and neck with kisses,
which he, his consciousness returning, answered kiss for kiss.

 Then the Master released him and undid the blindfold. The Master took
his place on the bed, while the slave stood awaiting orders. He expected
that he was to perform a similar service for the Master in a few moments.


 But this was not to be.

 Instead, the Master started to question him gently but closely.

 As you will see in the next section.....


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