[Author's note: This story is inspired by an earlier story by Jason Howe ('The Masochistic Slave Boy'), parts of which have been incorporated with Jason's permission. Thanks to Tim and Jase Anders for their many helpful comments.]
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Matt was nineteen years old, but looked younger. A blond, clean-cut kid, he stood a lean 5 feet 9 inches high. When stripped, he weighed only 145 lbs, but that was all solid muscle. With little body hair, a slim waist, and an eager youthful face, he looked to be in his mid-teens.
Matt spent a lot of his spare time swimming and working out in the gym. In addition, he ran at least 5K outside almost every day. He was proud of his tanned athletic body and liked showing it off. His many hours in the gym had helped him develop strong arms and shoulders that nicely complemented his firm butt and solid thighs. His ass was particularly attractive, beautifully set off by his trim waist and flat stomach. To a connoisseur, his twin round orbs looked as if they just begged for punishment.
In fact, it was true. Matt desperately wanted them to be punished.
When he was younger, his father had spared no mercy when the time came for discipline. His father had been a career NCO in the Marines and believed that hard strappings were an essential component of training for any youth, whether boy or recruit. On such occasions, Matt accepted, without question, the need for correction. He knew that his father was always fair, that his punishments were deserved, and that the pain of a solid thrashing was for his own good. He felt very close to his father, whom he admired tremendously. He'd do anything to please his father.
Even as a pre-teen, Matt had been a fair athlete, at least in individual sports. He'd been on his school's track team and had done fairly well. But despite the young man's athletic build, he didn't last long during a punishment before breaking down into sobbed pleas and screams. Whenever his father flogged his buttocks, Matt would try to show he could take it. But that only goaded his father into prolonging a punishment. His father told Matt that it was no shame to break down and cry, that a punishment was never effective until that happened. But Matt knew his dad appreciated courage. He hugged Matt after each punishment and told him how proud he was that Matt took what he did. That just made Matt even more determined to show his dad how much he could take.
As Matt grew into his mid-teens, the increasingly protracted thrashings became for him an incredible turn-on. He would dream of being flogged for days afterwards, jerking off time and time again on his bed as he imagined more blows of his father's belt raining down on his ass. He'd also found books in the public library that described boys being caned and flogged. He'd dared not take the books home in case his father found them. He kept cumming in his jeans in the library as he read them, imagining what such punishments must feel like.
By the time he turned sixteen, he actively sought to get himself in trouble just so he'd once again find himself spreadeagled over his father's workbench for punishment. His father had started using a cane as well as his belt, believing the belt alone to be ineffective for a boy in his mid-teens. For Matt, the canings just made the thrashings even more intense. Matt became a secret glutton for punishment with a cane, which gradually became the principal focus of his s_e_xual fantasies. He'd sometimes jerk off several times a day, imagining his father thrashing him while he came. He knew that could only be fantasy, but that didn't prevent him from dreaming it and cumming again. And it wasn't just s_e_x that made him hunger for punishment. It was also the closeness he felt to his father afterwards.
Unfortunately, his parents had a falling out a few months after Matt's sixteenth birthday. His father had left, leaving a gaping hole in Matt's life. Matt had lived with his mother for a year after his father left, but the two couldn't get along. Matt blamed his mother for driving his father away. His mother resented his attitude and criticized everything Matt did. Everything went wrong. With no dad to discipline him and approve his achievements, Matt's life fell apart. He ended up failing his year and dropping out of school.
Matt finally left home and struck out on his own, moving to the big city and finding a tech-based job. He was lucky in having marketable skills. His dad had given him computers at an early age and had constantly encouraged him to learn. He'd ended up as a neighborhood computing expert, helping friends and neighbors set up computers and web sites. Even with those skills, finding a job had taken some pretty grotty months. He'd been lucky again to get into a hostel for homeless kids that had helped him find his job.
The job paid for Matt's living costs. But the job wasn't otherwise all that great, and he hated to live by himself. He enjoyed showing himself off at the gym, but that was mostly a narcissistic urge. Nothing much had ever come of that. He ran with a couple of older youths whom he sometimes spent time with, but hadn't found a mate he really hit it off with.
He hadn't found a girl, either. Actually, he wasn't all that keen on girls. He'd explored some porn sites on the Internet, but the ones featuring girls had been a total turn-off. He'd found some gay sites which turned him on, but was wary of committing himself to anything. His father had been homophobic, and Matt felt guilty every time he started getting turned on by anything gay. He knew his father would have punished him severely if he'd ever found out what attracted Matt.
As time went by, his s_e_xual fantasies and feelings of guilt turned him more and more back to seeking punishment. He started exploring alternatives on the Internet, looking for a man who would give him the really hard punishment he knew he needed and deserved.
.
[2]
An advertisement for a live-in slave houseboy led to email contact with a prospective master. The advertisement made it clear that a live-in arrangement was essential and that punishment would be a significant part of the arrangement. The ad also made it clear that an attractive athletic body was a requirement. It requested any interested boy to send email explaining why he wanted to become a slave and why he believed he should be accepted. It also requested the boy to send a picture of himself with the email.
He got Pete, one of the guys he ran with, to take a picture of him outside in running shorts.
"What do you want it for?" Pete had asked curiously.
"Oh, it's for a friend" Matt had answered ingenuously. "He wants to see what I look like."
"He doesn't know?" Peter had laughed. "What are you doing? Sending it to a guy on the Internet?"
"Well, yes" Matt had blushed. "It's kind of a joke, I guess."
"Sounds kind of serious to me" Pete had grinned. "Be careful, kid. You've never met him or talked to him in person?"
"No. He wants to see a picture first."
"Well, I hope you know what you're doing, kid. I didn't know you were gay."
"Oh, it's not that kind of thing" Matt said quickly. "He's ... well, just a friend."
"Yeah, sure" Pete grinned.
They went to a nearby park, where Pete took several pictures of Matt grinning at the camera. "You want me to take some photos with your shorts off?" he asked afterwards. "We could go to my place if you want. Maybe have a beer or something afterwards."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea" Matt said uneasily, wondering what else Pete wanted to do. "I've never done anything like that."
"You've got a neat body, kid. I wouldn't mind a picture for my own collection. Wouldn't mind exploring it a little, too. You've got a really _s_e_x_y ass. I bet we'd be great together."
Matt shook his head. "Maybe another time, Pete. I'm not really into that."
"No?" Pete laughed. "Then what are you doing with this guy you're sending these to? Just teasing him?"
Matt shrugged in embarrassment. "It's not what you think."
"Okay" Pete shrugged. "It's not my business. I'll email the pictures to you." He looked at Matt appraisingly. "You obviously want to turn him on. Tell you what. I have an idea for a really s_e_xy picture. Lean back against that tree over there."
Matt went over to it. "This one?"
"Yeah. Lean back and put your hand in your pocket. Hold the tree with your other hand." Matt did that. "No one's around. Try jerking off with the hand in your pocket."
Matt looked around and then did as Pete suggested, quickly sporting a very visible hard-on.
"Hey! That's good!" Pete grinned, taking pictures.
"What does it look like? Isn't it kind of indecent?"
"F_u_cking right it is! This looks even s_e_xier than if you're buck naked."
Matt felt uncomfortable. "Have you taken enough?"
"No, I want a better pose. Push your ass out." Matt did. "Pull back harder on your prick."
"Oh sh_i_t!" Matt blurted out. "I can't keep doing this, Pete. I'm going to cum!"
"Then cum! Do it, kid! Nobody will see you."
"F_u_ck!" Matt reached down with his other hand, pulling his shorts back and jerking off with that hand too. "Sh_i_t! I'm cumming! F_u_ck!" Cum shot down his thigh. "F_u_ck!"
"Fantastic!" Pete laughed, shooting pictures from all around Matt. "Jesus, kid! I never thought you'd actually do that!"
"Sh_i_t!" Matt reacted, looking at Pete in alarm. "I didn't mean to. You didn't really take a picture of that, did you?"
"I sure did."
"That's _f_u_cking indecent!"
"No way! Take a look at them when I send them to you. They'll make the guy you're sending them to want to meet you, that's for sure."
Matt wasn't at all sure of that.
.
[3]
When Matt got the email with the photos, he looked at them long and hard before sending one of the first ones to the prospective master. There was no way he could send any of the last set to the master. They were totally indecent. But he decided he should be honest about their existence. "The guy who took the photo I attached took some racier ones too" he wrote. "I shouldn't have let him take them. I knew I was doing something bad when I posed for him. It's a perfect example of why I need punishment. My dad would have punished me hard if he'd ever found out I'd done something like that." He told the man that he was looking for someone who could take over the role of his father in providing discipline.
The man wrote back telling Matt that it sounded as if he did need a master who would do that. He also told Matt to send copies of the photos he thought he shouldn't have posed for. "Send them all" the man wrote. "Then I'll know how serious your offense is. Tell me why your father would have punished you for that, how he would have done it, and how you would have taken it. I want to know what kind of discipline you're used to and why you want to be a slave."
"It doesn't have to be working for you as a slave" Matt wrote back. "But I really need the discipline of that kind of arrangement. I want to find someone who will punish me severely when I do something wrong. I've done a number of things recently which deserve punishment and need someone like you to give it to me. My dad did that to me when I was younger and I have missed that ever since he left." Matt didn't tell his prospective master about his confused s_e_xual orientation or fantasies, but made it clear that he wanted punishment. "I really need punishment" he wrote. "I feel unfulfilled going through life without it."
"You didn't send the photos" the man replied testily. "I need you to send them to get an idea of what you consider an offense."
Matt sent some of the photos Pete had taken of him masturbating inside his shorts, including one taken as he came. "I know it was wrong to pose like this and especially to have done it in a public park" he wrote. "I felt too embarrassed to send them to you earlier."
"I can see why" his prospective master wrote back. "The photos are blatantly indecent. I can imagine how your father would react if he saw them. You're quite right to say that you deserve punishment for doing that." He asked for more details about Matt's relationship with his father and about how he had been punished as a boy.
Matt answered in fairly complete detail, explaining that punishment had been important in making him feel close to his father. "I felt proud taking what my dad would give me" he told Master Brad, the name his prospective master had used. "My dad would give me a lot. But I knew I always deserved it and that my dad was proud of me for taking it. I would really appreciate it if you would take me on."
Brad wrote that the engagement would not be easy, attaching a copy of rules that would govern Matt through his stay. Matt would be expected to follow the rules exactly and to take any punishment that was given. Brad said he would administer punishment at the slightest transgression of his rules and that the punishment could be severe.
Matt wrote back saying that was exactly what he wanted. He acknowledged the rules and agreed that any violation would be reason for punishment. He also asked that his master punish him for posing indecently. "I know my dad would have done that" he told him. "He'd really have given me a lot." The only reassurance he wanted, which his prospective master freely gave, was that punishment be only on his buttocks. Matt had a horror of being lashed on any other part of his body.
"I feel the same way you do" Brad had written back. "Our buttocks are really the only parts of our bodies that are ideally designed to take punishment. If yours are as good-looking as your pictures suggest, I can't imagine wanting to punish you anywhere else."
They soon came to an agreement that Matt would try being Brad's slave boy for two weeks. The Independence Day holiday was coming up soon, on a Thursday in just three weeks. The company Matt worked for gave everybody Friday off as well, so Matt arranged to take the following two weeks off. If he drove up on the preceding Wednesday, that would give him eighteen days and nights he could spend as the master's slave houseboy.
His master lived in a remote country location, so Matt would be isolated from other contacts and totally dependent on his master during the two weeks he'd be there. Matt thought that sounded just fine. He owned an old beat-up second-hand car and agreed to drive to the master's home. He arranged to leave work at noon on Wednesday so he could arrive by mid-afternoon.
"Did you ever send your guy those photos?" Pete asked him a few days later. They'd finished a run and were relaxing over a beer.
"Yeah" Matt nodded. "I told him about how I'd let you take ones of me jerking off. He asked me to send them, so I did. He thought they were pretty disgusting."
"Disgusting? I thought they were great. Didn't they turn him on?"
"I don't know" Matt shrugged. "He just said I was right to say I should be ..." He stopped, realizing he'd been about to tell Pete about his forthcoming punishment.
"Should be what?" Pete asked.
"Oh, nothing" Matt said evasively. "I'll find out when I see him."
"You're meeting him soon?"
"Yeah, he's got some place way out in the country. He wants me to come out there and stay with him over the holiday weekend."
"And you're going to do that? Without even meeting him first?"
"Oh, yes" Matt nodded. "That's the way he wants it."
"I suppose it's totally isolated."
"So I understand" Matt shrugged.
"Jesus, kid! You're taking a big risk."
"Not really" Matt smiled. "He's just like my dad."
"F_u_ck!" Pete laughed curtly, shaking his head. "You sure are naive, kid. I hope you know what you're doing."
"Oh, I do" Matt grinned, oblivious to Pete's concern. "I think it'll be really great."
The master sent Matt directions for getting to his home along with a copy of the rules he'd sent Matt earlier. As instructed, Matt memorized the rules carefully before leaving for his new temporary home in the hills.
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[4]
The drive out to his Master Brad's home took longer than Matt had planned. The house was even more isolated than he'd expected and Matt had twice taken the wrong turn. Knocking at his master's door, Matt was nervous, but at the same time looking forward to what he would experience. He waited several minutes, becoming increasingly apprehensive as the minutes passed.
The door was finally opened by a man in his early 30s. The man was a few inches taller than Matt and solidly built, clearly well-muscled. As Matt looked at him nervously, the man admired the sight before him.
Matt's new master was a keen connoisseur of teenage youths. As he surveyed his new boy intently, he couldn't help thinking that this one could well turn out to be among the best he'd ever had. The cute young man before him looked even better than in the pictures he'd sent. Dressed in a white T-shirt and close-fitting jeans, Matt was a poster boy for healthy teenage life in Northern California. His master could hardly wait to see the youth with his clothes off.
Matt became even more apprehensive as the man inspected him wordlessly. "I'm Matt, Sir" he finally volunteered.
"I assumed so" his master nodded curtly. "I'm Master Brad, as you no doubt surmised. You're more than an hour late."
"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir. I misjudged the distance."
"Well, we'll deal with that later. Drive that wreck around the side, park it out of sight behind the garage, and return here. Bring the keys and give them to me. You won't have any use for your car while you're here."
Matt did as he was told and was invited in.
"Give me your wallet, too."
Matt pulled it out and handed it to him. His master flipped it open and examined his driving license.
"Good. You didn't lie to me about your age."
"No, Sir. I didn't lie to you about anything, Sir."
"I hope not. You'll certainly be punished severely if you did." He looked at the boy in amusement. "You'd better give me your watch, too. I'll keep everything until you leave. Anything else of value in your car or backpack? Cell phone? PDA? Spare car keys?"
"No, Sir. I only brought what you told me to bring, Sir. I left everything else in my apartment."
"Good."
The rules of his two-week-long commitment were once again reviewed. Matt was to keep the house clean, weed the garden, prepare meals, wait upon any guests, and obey any instruction given to him. He was to remain silent unless requested to speak, unobtrusively waiting for requests from his master or his master's guests. Any failure to obey the rules or do what he was told would result in immediate punishment.
"So, boy" the master concluded. "Tell me again why you decided to apply to be my slave houseboy. I know what you've written in your emails. I want to know what you feel now you're here."
"I feel just the same, Sir. I badly need discipline and punishment. I've gone too long without it."
"Well, you'll get that here. Perhaps even more than you desire."
"It can't be too much, Sir" Matt said earnestly. "I really need it."
"Really?" Master Brad smiled. "We'll see if you still feel that way after you've been here a few days. As I warned you in my emails, you will be subject to very strict discipline while you're here. Your butt will be punished if I am even slightly dissatisfied with your work or your attitude. I hope there is no misunderstanding about that."
"Not at all, Sir," the youth acknowledged. "That's entirely appropriate."
Brad's expression changed. "I didn't ask you to judge whether it's appropriate, boy. That's for me to decide."
Matt looked at him in surprise. "I'm sorry?"
"A slave boy takes discipline without comment or complaint. Was that not clear in the rules I sent to you?"
"Yes, Sir" Matt sighed, remembering now. "I guess it was."
"Then why were you so forward?"
Matt looked at him nervously. "I don't know, Sir."
"You don't know?" Brad looked at him contemptuously. "What kind of answer is that?"
Matt shrugged in confusion. "I'm sorry, Sir. I just wanted to say I agreed with you."
"Why should I care about that? Do you think your views matter?"
He glanced at his master's expression. "I guess not, Sir."
"You'd better not just guess, slave boy. Did you not read the rules?"
"Yes, Sir, I did." He bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Sir. I should have remembered my place."
His master smiled thinly. "Yes, you should have. You'll be punished for that, boy. You'll be punished for arriving late, too."
"But, Sir!" Matt stammered. "I couldn't help that."
"Don't try to excuse yourself, boy. I detest boys that try to wriggle out of punishment. There's never a valid excuse for being late."
Matt shrugged. "If you say so, Sir."
"Don't be insolent!" Brad glared.
"Sorry, Sir."
His master looked at him critically. "Your attitude is altogether too lax, boy. You're going to need some harsh training."
"Yes, Sir" Matt grimaced. "I guess I asked for that, didn't I?"
"You certainly have by your behavior. So let's get to it. Strip to your underpants. Put your clothes on your back pack."
Matt obeyed instantly. First he removed his shoes and socks and then slipped his T shirt over his head. Even with his jeans still on, the youth looked extremely s_e_xy. He looked even s_e_xier when he stripped off his jeans.
'Even better than I thought!' Brad thought to himself, smiling as he contemplated how his friends would react when they saw his new houseboy. The trim youth stood alertly in front of him, wearing light tan boxer shorts that nicely complemented the youth's darker tan. The boxers accentuated Matt's slim waist and flat belly, showing off the curves of his buttocks in a very tantalizing way.
"While you are here, you will wear nothing but those boxers, which you will keep clean and neat at all times. You brought an identical spare, I presume?"
"Yes, Sir. A couple of spares. I brought running shorts, too."
"Fine. You were told to. If you're being punished, you'll take off your shorts for the punishment and keep them off for the rest of that day."
"Is that so I get more punishment that day?"
"That's right. You never get just one punishment for transgressing the rules, boy. You need reminders."
"That's good, Sir. I know I'll benefit from that."
His master smiled. "I hope so. Let's get a better look at that butt of yours. Take those shorts off and put your hands behind your head."
Matt did as instructed. He firmly locked his hands in place as his master approached him. Walking behind the youth, Brad stood back and admired the firm, taut, solid pair of buttocks. He squeezed each cheek with his hand and followed up with two quick hard slaps, one to each buttock.
Matt hadn't expected that. His hands involuntarily shot down to protect his butt.
"I told you to keep your hands behind your head."
"Yes, Sir." Matt quickly moved them back. "I'm sorry, Sir."
"Sorry doesn't hack it here, boy. You obey. You always obey."
"Yes, Sir."
Brad resumed his inspection, smiling as he saw Matt's throbbing hard-on. "That's an impressive hard-on, boy. You're really looking forward to getting it on your ass, aren't you?"
"Yes, Sir" Matt nodded. "I am."
"That's good. You have a nice body. Do you work out?"
"Almost every day, Sir. I run a lot, too."
"Good. You'll do that here, too. I think you're going to make a fine young slave boy, Matt. That butt of yours looks like it can take a lot of punishment."
"Oh yes, Sir! My dad used to beat it all the time. He said boys my age need a lot of strong punishment. I think he's right, Sir. I've really missed that since he and my mom split up."
"I think he's right, too. How long is it since your dad left?"
"Two and a half years, Sir. I've not been punished since then." He looked at his master earnestly. "I need it badly, Sir."
"Well, you've come to the right place" Brad smiled. "And judging by your behavior since you arrived, you're certainly right about needing it. You're going to get a lot of correction, boy. One hell of a lot."
"Yes, Sir." Matt's hard-on was even more pronounced. "I appreciate your willingness to do that, Sir."
"It'll be my pleasure, boy. You realize how many punishments you've earned since arriving for your forwardness and disobedience?"
"Disobedience, Sir? What did I do wrong?"
"I instructed you earlier to put your hands behind your head, but you failed to obey. You dropped them down to your side when I slapped you."
"Oh, I'm sorry. You're right, Sir, I did do that. I didn't mean to be disobedient, but I guess it was."
"You just guess?"
"I'm sorry, Sir. You're right, Sir, it was disobedience. I do deserve punishment."
"You certainly do, boy. You'll get caned for that. You get caned for any disobedience, no matter how slight."
Matt felt a frisson of fear as he looked at his master's stern expression. "I understand, Sir."
"You'd better. You've earned two canings for disobedience already."
Matt looked at him in dismay. "Two, Sir?" That was really a bit much.
"That's right, boy. You disobeyed me by being late, too."
"I couldn't help that, Sir. I misjudged the time."
His master looked at him coldly. "Is that supposed to be an excuse?"
"It wasn't my fault, Sir. The directions you sent me were confusing. I didn't know the way and made a couple of wrong turns."
"So what? You have to allow for potential problems. Do you not have mapping software on your PC?"
"Well, yes."
"Yes, Sir!" Brad glared. "Not just 'yes'. Show some respect when you answer, boy!"
"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."
"Did you trace out the route? Check it for likely travel time?"
"No, Sir, I didn't." He looked at his master uncomfortably. "I guess I am at fault, Sir. You're right. I should have done that."
"Do you screw up like that often?"
Matt looked at him warily. "How do you mean, Sir?"
"Fail to meet commitments, not check out what you need to do to keep promises, miss deadlines at work, that sort of thing."
"It happens" Matt admitted. "There are a lot of unrealistic deadlines in my line of work."
"You shouldn't agree to them if you can't meet them."
"I don't have a choice, Sir. That's how companies like ours get business."
"That's nonsense, boy! That's just another lame excuse."
"No, it's not, Sir. I do web designs, Sir. It's just too hard to know in advance what a job will require."
"Don't you talk back to me, boy!"
"I'm sorry, Sir" Matt said stubbornly. "But it's true."
"Don't contradict me! There's no excuse for taking promises lightly, boy, whether in your work or any place else. I'll give you extra punishment for trying to make excuses about that."
"That's not fair!"
"I don't like your attitude, boy. You'll get punished for talking back, too."
"I'm sorry, Sir. But what I said is true."
"Are you asking for even more, boy? You're certainly being provocative."
"No, Sir." Matt looked at him fearfully, realizing how fast the punishments were piling up. "You're really going to punish me for all that, Sir? You'll give me an awful lot."
Brad glared. "No more than you deserve, boy. Are you disputing my judgement?"
"No, Sir" Matt sighed. "You're right to be strict, Sir."
"Of course, I'm right, boy. I am always right."
He gazed at Matt with an amused smile. "This is your first day and you're new to this, so I'll let you off some of the punishments you've earned since arriving. But you'd better learn to take me seriously. When I say the rules are to be followed, I mean it."
"Yes, Sir."
"Follow me to the back room."
.
[5]
What Matt saw in the back room was enough to fill anyone with trepidation. Prominently displayed on the wall were various instruments of punishment, including several canes of various thicknesses, assorted leather straps, whips, a riding crop, and several lexan and wooden paddles.
"You see these instruments."
"Yes, Sir."
"You will have an opportunity to become acquainted with all of them over the next week, boy. Each discipline session will use several of those implements."
"Yes, Sir."
Matt looked around the room with a growing fear. Every single one looked capable of inflicting serious pain.
He stared at the canes. Most of the canes were easily three feet long and were of various thicknesses. The lighter one was the shortest, just slightly under three feet. As he would soon find out, it would cause an extremely painful sting when flayed across his naked buttocks. But, unlike the thicker canes, the marks it left would fade fairly quickly. The thicker ones were longer and heavier. They would hurt more and leave longer-lasting marks.
The riding crop was an instrument he'd never experienced. He knew from reading about it on the Internet that it would deliver severe punishment. From what he knew, it wouldn't cut into him the way a cane would. But its plaited leather thongs would leave a painful welt across his butt. And the leather thongs at the end would snap onto his flesh with a very painful sting.
The straps varied in size and intensity. The two that initially looked most lethal were the razor strop and the tawse. The tawse was split into three separate strands at the receiving end so that each stroke would deliver three distinct red welts across Matt's butt. The razor strop, about two feet long and four inches wide, would redden a wide section of his butt with each stroke. Matt knew it well, for his father had used one like it.
There were also two conventional straps. One of them was long and thick, with half-inch holes down its middle. It was a good twenty inches long, excluding its wooden handle. Matt looked at it uneasily, wondering why it seemed so thick. He suddenly realized that it was actually two leather straps, bound back-to-back by the handle.
"You're looking at the prison strap?" Brad smiled. "The strap with the wooden handle?"
"Is that what it is, Sir? Yes, Sir, I was. It looks pretty severe, Sir."
"Perhaps you would care to feel it. Bring it to me."
"Yes, Sir."
Matt went to the wall and brought it to his master.
"Go to the center of that wall. Lean into it and stick your ass out."
"Yes, Sir." Matt did as he was told.
"Spread your legs apart." Matt did. "And push that ass further out." Matt moved his hands lower to angle his ass up. "Further! Get it right out!"
"Yes, Sir."
Matt waited for the first blow with growing excitement. He felt fearful as well as excited, but the excitement dominated. He could feel his prick grow hard as he watched Brad take the strap out to his side, knowing he was about to be punished for the first time since his father had gone out of his life. His body tensed in anticipation. In fear, too. Matt had never been punished with a strap like that, but the fact that it was called a 'prison strap' meant it had to be bad. He knew instinctively as well that this man would hit hard, harder than his father had ever done. This was shaping up to be a lot more of a challenge than he was used to.
He flinched as Brad touched his quivering orbs with the strap, testing his position. "Is this for disobedience, Sir?"
"No. You'll get the cane for that later. You're getting this for your forwardness, commenting on the appropriateness of my punishing you."
That seemed kind of a petty reason for his first punishment, Matt thought to himself. But he realized it served to define his position as a slave boy. Maybe that was its intent. Maybe the whole point was that a slave boy could be punished for anything, no matter how trivial. Matt squirmed in anticipation, knowing his ass was finally going to get what it deserved. It really didn't matter what the stated reason was. The real reason he was here, pushing his ass out for this man, was because of Matt's own needs.
His master moved slightly, once again testing his position by slapping Matt's ass lightly with the strap. Matt felt his prick and buttocks tense. This is what he had come for. His prick had never been harder.
Brad smiled as he looked at the youth's raging hard-on. "You understand why I'm punishing you, boy?"
"Yes, Sir. A slave boy has no business commenting on what his master decides."
"That's right, boy. A slave boy never talks out of turn. He is always respectful, never initiating conversation except when required by his duties. And certainly never arguing with his master or complaining about punishment. I hope this strapping will help you remember all that."
"Yes, Sir" Matt nodded, trembling as he watched his master get ready to swing. This was like when his father had punished him. The wait before the first blow was always the most intense part of his father's punishments.
"You ready for this now, boy?"
"Yes, Sir" Matt said fearfully.
He knew what was coming now, coming after more than two years. He knew it would hurt. It always did. He wondered if it would hurt as much as when he'd got it from his father.
He watched as Brad reached back, holding the wooden handle with both hands. He closed his eyes in anticipation, just before his master swung. It had always been better not to know when it was coming.
"Oh God!" Matt gasped, jerking forward in surprise. "F_U_CK!"
He hadn't meant to cry out. But the strap had come sooner than expected and had slashed into Matt's buttocks with surprising force. Matt shuddered in fear as the pain radiated through him. That blow had really hurt, much more than Matt had expected. The magnitude of the pain had been a real shock.
He pushed his ass back out and looked back at his master, tensing as he saw Brad reaching back to hit him again. This punishment was going to be severe, Matt realized. He could see Brad's arm and shoulder muscles ripple. And then dart forward as he swung.
"OH GOD!!!" That second blow had hurt even more. Matt wondered if he'd just forgotten how much pain a hard strapping could inflict. His ass jerked forward in a vain attempt to avoid further blows.
"Get that ass back out, boy! And keep it out!"
"Oh, Sir!" Matt begged, trembling as he saw Brad reach back. "You're really hitting hard!"
"Of course I am, boy. Didn't you hear me tell you to keep that ass out? Do as I say, boy!"
Matt pushed his ass out again, just as Brad swung.
"F_U_CK!!!!!" Matt jerked up into a standing position, shocked by the pain of the blow.
Brad had really hit hard, putting all the power of both arms into his swing. And he'd aimed for the underside of his buttocks, hitting them just where they joined the backs of his thighs. It was like hitting a home run.
Matt had never felt anything like it. He'd grabbed for his buttocks after jumping up, hoping somehow to alleviate the pain by holding them. But nothing helped. If anything, the pain just grew.
"F_U_CKING _SH_I_T!!!" He held his buttocks, dancing in agony. "THAT HURT!!! THAT REALLY HURT!!!"
"Get back on the wall!" Brad looked at him in contempt. "How dare you jump up, boy! Get down! And stay there!"
"Oh, please!!!" Matt sobbed as he got back in position. The shock of the pain from that third one had really been blinding. And now it felt even worse. The pain stabbing out from his buttocks kept growing. It felt like they were on fire.
"That one won't count. And you'll get an extra two for jumping up."
"Oh God!" Matt moaned. This was much worse than he'd expected. "How many are you giving me now, Sir?"
"Ten more."
"Jesus!" He closed his eyes as his master reached back.
Matt's hard-on had long since shrivelled up. His mind was totally focussed on the urgent pain messages flashing out from his buttocks. 'Get out!' his nerves were screaming. 'Fire! Danger! Get away, fast!' The messages were coming faster than his brain could process. 'It's getting worse! Flee!' But he knew he couldn't get away from this. Not if he was to keep any self-respect.
He remembered angry how his father used to get when he jumped up or showed fear. His father would lash out in fury. Somehow, Brad's cool disgust was worse. He tensed in terror, waiting for the blow that was to come. It came quickly.
"JESUS!!!"
Matt barely kept himself from jumping up. He opened his eyes and looked back, just in time to see Brad reach back.
"NO!" he screamed as his master swung again. "OH GOD!!! PLEASE!!!" He jerked forward in a vain attempt to escape the blow.
"AAOOOOWWWHHHHH!!!" The strap had hit across the top of his buttocks that time. "SH_I_T!!!" It had really stung.
"Get that ass back out!"
Matt couldn't help it. He was jerking his ass forward each time, in vain involuntary attempts to escape the hardest impacts. The pain was just too hard to take.
"You keep that ass out, boy, or you'll get another two."
"Oh God!" Matt moaned.
"Did you hear what I just said, boy?"
"Yes, Sir." He reluctantly pushed his ass out.
The next one really hurt. "JESUS, SIR!! YOU'RE REALLY HURTING ME!!"
"I should bloody well hope so! Keep that ass out!"
Matt's buttocks were really burning now. He barely managed to keep holding his buttocks out as the strap kept slashing into them. Brad was hitting much harder than his father ever had, he was sure. The pain from each blow was nothing like what he'd remembered. And the pain just kept growing.
By the time Brad had given him five more blows, Matt was screaming and sobbing in agony. The pain was just unbelievable now. He kept jerking his torso forward, expecting another blow.
Brad waited for Matt to settle down, smiling at the boy's terror. This one really reacted. You'd sure never think he'd actually volunteered for this. He smiled again as he thought about how much his friends would get turned on when they saw how Matt took punishment. This was shaping up to be a stellar weekend.
Matt gradually got himself under control, waiting in painful anticipation for the next blow. He was really tense now. With each passing second, his fear ratcheted up another notch.
.
[6]
Matt shrieked and jumped up when the next blow came. The strap had slashed down onto the crease between his buttocks and the backs of his thighs, almost on top of the red band left by the one that had been so bad earlier. The pain was like an electric shock.
"OH GOD!!!" he shrieked, grabbing his buttocks as he danced. "F_U_CK!!!! F_U_CKING _SH_I_T!!!"
Brad looked at him in disgust. "I told you not to jump up" he said coldly.
"I'm sorry!" Matt sobbed. "I couldn't help it, Sir. I really couldn't."
"Of course you could help it. I told you to stay down. You disobeyed."
He put the strap down on a nearby table. "That's the second or third time you've disobeyed while getting this punishment, boy. You really have no concept of what it means to obey orders, do you?"
"I'm sorry, Sir! I didn't mean to disobey! It just happened, Sir!"
"Don't give me that kind of bull_sh_i_t! You need a lesson in what disobedience gets you, boy. Go to the wall and bring me a cane. I'll resume this punishment afterwards."
"Oh, Sir!" Matt looked at his master in horror. "Please don't give me the cane!"
"Do what I tell you, boy. Or you'll really get a severe punishment."
"Oh God!" Matt sobbed.
"Do it now!"
Matt went to the wall and stood before the canes. "Which one, Sir?"
"The top one."
He picked up the lightest one, which was just under three feet long. "This one, Sir?" It was the shortest cane on the wall.
"Right. That'll do for a start. Bring it to me."
As Matt carried the light cane to Brad, he could see how supple it was. It was about three-eighths of an inch in diameter and felt wet. It had obviously been standing in some liquid recently to keep it supple.
Matt sobbed in fear as he gave it to Brad.
"Get down over the end of that table."
Matt bent over the table and held onto its sides, watching apprehensively as Brad took the cane out to Matt's left.
"Why are you getting this, boy?"
"Because I disobeyed you and jumped up, Sir."
"That's right. I'll give you three with this cane for that. Then I'll resume the strapping where we left off."
"Oh please, Sir!" Matt sobbed. "You've already given me so much!"
"You're complaining, boy? You really must want punishment. What do the rules say about complaining?"
"Oh, Sir! I'm sorry! I know I shouldn't."
"But you just did. I guess three with the cane isn't enough for you."
"Oh, please, Sir! Please don't give me any more!"
"Then don't complain. Next time you do, I'll give you two more on your ass. Understand?"
"Oh God!" Matt closed his eyes in horror.
"I asked you a question, boy. Do you understand what you'll get if you complain again?"
"Yes, Sir."
"What will you get?"
"Another two of the cane, Sir."
"Right. You'll get that or more, each time you complain. If you earn punishment, boy, then you take it without moaning about it. Understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
"I'm not going to tolerate any more of this wimpy behavior, boy. Either complaining or letting go of the table. You came here because you wanted punishment. Right? You said you needed it desperately. Right?"
"Yes, Sir" Matt nodded hopelessly. "I know I did, Sir."
"Well, then, take it like a man. You asked for this and you're getting it. And you know you deserve it. Right?"
"Yes, Sir" Matt sighed. "I do. I know I do."
"Then show that you can take it."
"Yes, Sir" Matt sobbed. "I'll try, Sir." He jerked in terror as the cane touched his buttocks. "Oh God!"
"You'd bloody well better do more than just try, boy. I'm being lenient, because this is your first day of punishment. That's why I'm just using this light cane. If you keep disobeying me or keep wimping out, I'll switch to one of the heavier canes and punish you a lot harder."
"Yes, Sir" Matt sobbed, flinching as the cane touched him again. "Oh God!"
What was happening to him was far worse than he'd ever imagined. Somehow his memory had played tricks on him when he'd thought about this in front of his computer. He'd remembered how he'd been turned on afterwards rather than the level of pain he'd feel during a punishment. Worse still, what he was experiencing right now was unbelievably bad. The strap had really hurt. And the caning he was about to receive could only be a lot worse. What Brad had threatened --an even worse caning-- was just inconceivable.
He looked out to his left and saw Brad reach out with the cane. He tensed in fear and closed his eyes again.
He jerked as the cane touched him once again. "Oh God!"
He was moaning in terror now, gripping the table tightly as he waited for the first real blow. Brad waited until Matt relaxed slightly. And then swung, swinging hard.
"AIEEEEEHHHHH!!!!!" Matt jerked up in shock, barely holding on. "OH GOD!!! OOOWWHHOHHHH!!!!"
Matt had forgotten just how much pain a cane could inflict. The shock of the pain had been blinding. The cane had slashed into the center of his buttocks with an electric impact, made even more painful by the degree to which his buttocks had just been sensitized by the strap.
He looked back fearfully, just in time to see his master reach back and swing.
"AAAOOOOOWWWRGHHHHH!!!!" That one was worse. Matt's feet danced on the floor as he held on. "F_U_CK!!! JESUS CHRIST, SIR!!! THAT REALLY HURT!!!"
"Of course it hurt. Are you complaining?"
"No, Sir. It's just ..."
"Just what?"
Matt sobbed as he tried to control himself. The second blow had slashed into him in almost the same spot, just slightly lower down. "It's really bad, Sir!" The pain kept growing worse. "That cane is too much, Sir. I don't think I can take it."
"I don't believe this, boy. You ARE complaining."
"I'm sorry, Sir." He knew he shouldn't complain. But he had to tell his master, tell him he was hitting too hard. Nothing his father had given him had ever been remotely like this. He was sure his master would understand. "You're hitting too hard, Sir. It really is too much."
"That's just too bad, boy. You'd better get used to this. You're going to get more of it."
"Oh, Sir!"
"You're going to feel this cane every time you disobey or complain, boy. You'll get an extra two now for complaining."
"Oh, please, Sir!" Matt wailed. "Please don't give me that!"
"You'd better stop complaining, boy, or I'll make it an extra three."
"Oh, God, Sir! Please don't do this!" He saw his master reach back. "PLEASE, SIR!! OH PLEASE!!!"
"AIEEEOOOOWWWWHHHH!!!!"
Matt screamed and jerked on the table, barely managing to keep his ass in position. "OH GOD, SIR!!! PLEASE!!!"
Brad swung again.
"OH JESUS!!! _F_U_CK!!!!" Matt jerked up, just barely keeping his grip on the table. "OH PLEASE, SIR!!! PLEASE DON'T GIVE ME MORE!!! PLEASE!!!"
"I'm making it three for complaining now, boy."
"OH GOD!!!! PLEASE!!!!" He saw his master reach back. "NOOOHHHH!!! OH GOD!!!!"
"F_U_CKING JESUS!!!!!" That one was the worst so far. "AOOOOWWWWHHOOOHHH!!!!"
Brad had gradually aimed lower and lower down Matt's buttocks, slashing into the underside of his buttocks. That last one had landed right where his buttocks were most sensitive, just above the crease where they met the backs of his thighs.
"Hold on, boy" Brad encouraged. "You have just one more."
Matt did hold on. But only just. He gripped the table hard, almost crushing his fingers in the tension of his anticipation.
"AIEEEEEOOOWWWOHHHHH!!!!" He just barely kept his grip. "OH, _F_U_CK!!! SH_I_T!!!! _F_U_CKING SH_I_T_!!!!"
Matt shook in agony as he gripped the table. That last blow had landed right on the crease, slashing into his buttocks with incredible effect. The pain stabbing out of his buttocks was so f_u_cking intense, he could scarcely believe it.
When Brad told him to get up, Matt could hardly believe it was over. He'd concentrated so much on staying in place that he wasn't sure how much he'd received. He was horribly afraid there'd be more.
"All right, boy, that was half a dozen, thanks to all your complaining. Next time you disobey me, you'll get that and more. Understand?"
"Yes, Sir" Matt nodded, sobbing from the pain. He'd thought he still had another blow coming. He sure wasn't going to argue about it. The caning had felt incredibly intense.
"Stay there in that position. I'll be right back."
.
[7]
Matt sobbed on the table as he waited for his master to return. The cane had hurt worse than he'd expected, worse even than he'd imagined possible. It was nothing like what he remembered getting from his father.
Well, maybe it was. He kept thinking back to the few really hard canings he'd got from his father. His father had sometimes hit very hard, especially when infuriated by some particularly stupid transgression. That kind of severe beating had really turned Matt on afterwards.
No, he decided, even those weren't quite as bad. His father's cane had been a little shorter than the one Brad had used. And he was pretty sure his father had never tried to hit as hard as Brad had.
After all, Matt thought, he'd only been sixteen then. His father had undoubtedly held back because of his age. Now that he thought about it, he remembered his dad talking about the severity of the punishments he and his fellow NCOs had given to some recruits. No question, Matt realized, they would have been much worse. His dad had grinned at Matt when he'd told him about it, warning him that he'd better not ask for a beating when he was that old. His dad wouldn't hold back now that he was nineteen.
Especially if he knew about Matt's gay leanings. Matt thought back to what his dad had said about what he and his fellow NCOs did to recruits who turned out to be gay. He'd told Matt he'd beat the _s_h_i_t_ out of him if he ever found out his son was like that. If he knew the kind of web sites his son had been surfing, he'd be out of his mind in fury.
Matt sobbed as he thought about how much he'd have disappointed his father. He deserved everything his master was giving him, even more than his new master knew. He really ought to get a caning for each time he'd looked at a gay site.
The fact that he deserved it didn't make the punishments any easier to take. Matt was beginning to realize that Brad meant it when he said his punishments would be severe. They'd already been way more severe than he'd expected. And worse still, seemingly unending. This was shaping up to be worse than anything he'd ever read about.
His prick started swelling up as he thought about some of the punishments he'd read about. He remembered reading a MMSA Stories story about a boy who'd signed on to work on an oil tanker and been beaten severely by the mate and the mate's protege once they were at sea. The boy had gotten an erection and had cum afterwards while being _f_u_cked by the younger man. Matt reached back and started jerking off, thinking about how much more the boy had taken on his ass in that story. The boy had really got turned on by what he got. Matt wondered if he'd get everything that boy got and if he'd get that turned on. He was only just beginning to get what that boy had received, down there in the bowels of that tanker.
He suddenly heard something and took his hand away. His master didn't appear, but he didn't put his hand back. He didn't want to take a chance of being discovered. He'd almost certainly get another punishment.
He tried to remember what he still had to receive. His prick lost its hardness as he thought again about how bad the caning had been, even with just six blows. He knew six cuts wasn't a real caning, not by his father's standards anyway. Brad had just given him a sample of what a real caning would be like. Maybe not even a sample, for he'd made it very clear that another caning would be worse. Matt had no doubt it would be.
Matt knew he had more canings coming. Thinking about it was like thinking about the unendurable. There was no way he could keep taking this, not the way Brad was laying into him. Certainly not at the rate he was earning it.
Matt knew, though, that he couldn't complain. He'd learnt his lesson about that. Complaining just resulted in even more of the cane, like what he'd just received. There was nothing he could do about the punishments he was going to get. Nothing at all. He couldn't even run away. His master had locked away his car keys. The more he thought about it, the more he realized there was no escape. He'd have to take what faced him, just like when it was from his dad.
.
[to be continued ...]