In the Dungeon

I met him at a card show in San Antonio. We chatted while waiting in line, and he was very open and easy to talk to. He wasn't handsome: shaved head, about 40, short and stocky, with black horn rimmed glasses. He had been in the military. But though I am usually shy, I found myself opening up to him and conversing amicably. On the way out I saw him again: he smiled pleasantly and asked if I would like to come to his nearby home for a cup of coffee.

I've lived a quiet life thus far. I'm reserved by nature and at the age of 25 had had few relationships. Sexually: I'm inexperienced and not entirely sure about my inclinations. I have feminine features, a girlish bottom, large grey eyes, a slender waist, little body hair and that very fine. I've been approached by both males and females, but am generally too diffident to take matters further. The encounters I've had so far involved only some heavy petting, one time with a member of each sex, though I enjoyed both. But technically at least I'm still a virgin.

My instinct was to refuse his suggestion, but there was something appealing about his friendly manner, and against my better judgement I accepted the offer, adding only that I could not stay long. We strolled a few blocks and arrived at his house, a typical well kept Texas bungalow. I did notice that it stood alone on its block, with vacant spaces on either side.

We went inside the house; the living room was neat and well organized. He made some excellent coffee and we sat opposite each other on comfortable chairs talking about our lives and interests. That was when he told me that he was involved in BDSM, and asked if I would like to see what he called his dungeon.

Now, I have never experienced anything like that. But I must admit that the subject held some interest; I had had a magazine showing attractive young men and women bound naked in uncomfortable but arousing positions, while a masked Master prepared to chastise them with a variety of implements. I found this highly stimulating. So with some hesitation I agreed to his invitation, and followed his stocky figure down a hallway into what must once have been a garage.

It was a spacious area with a cathedral ceiling and no windows, painted a deep red. The floor was made of stone flags, and the walls held some large mirrors, several erotic paintings of s&m activities, and racks from which dangled a variety of striking implements. There were two short whips, a number of wooden or leather paddles, and an umbrella stand filled with lithe bamboo canes. Another rack held leather gags and hoods, handcuffs and a variety of cords and straps.

I was certainly taken aback to find such an installation in a quiet Texas neighborhood, and quite apprehensive that I could be in some kind of danger. After all, I'm a slender, not very sturdy young man who could easily be overpowered by my sturdily built host. But he was absolutely relaxed, friendly and communicative, and clearly proud of his "dungeon". He showed me his leather horse: reminiscent of high school gym, except that it had knee and elbow supports and a plethora of D-rings.

There was a wooden X-shaped cross, similarly decorated, and chains and shackles hung from the ceiling. A wooden set of stocks was in the center of the room, and a metal cage with openings in the bars on either end rested on a thick post. Mike picked up a leather collar with rings on it. "This is what my subs put on when they are here for a session. Once they put it on, they give up their freedom and agree to submit to whatever their Master -- me! - sees fit to inflict on them."

"What are your favorite things to inflict?" I couldn't resist asking.

"That depends on the sub. I'm pretty good at telling what a sub really wants. Or doesn't want! Once they put on the collar, and are naked and secured...well, let's say that I like it to be a surprise. It will hurt, certainly. But for every pain there will be some pleasure."

Once I saw Mike made no move to interfere with or harm me -- that came later -- I relaxed and carefully examined the intriguing furniture. As I looked around I began to imagine myself naked and secured, helpless to defend myself from whippings and worse. I've always had a submissive, yielding personality, and the room held a strong appeal for me. Somewhat to my embarrassment, my cock swelled and created a bulge in my khakis. I quickly suggested we return to the living room, though not without my taking a longing look around the sinister but stimulating area.

This time we sat together on a comfortable couch. He told me a little about his involvement in BDSM; he had been active in that community for about ten years, where he was known as Captain Michael. He explained that he was a top, while his partners were usually bottoms. I was still very aware of the bulge in my pants, and looking down saw that he displayed a corresponding swelling. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it, and was not totally shocked when he gently took my slender hand and placed it over his clothes on his stiffening cock.

Guiding my suddenly clumsy fingers, he unzipped his pants and put my hand inside on his organ. It was thick and warm. Though I was taken greatly aback, I obediently released him from his underwear. His cock was stiff and sprang free as I rearranged him. It was large and beautiful, uncircumcised with a drop of precum already showing at the tip. I couldn't take my eyes off it and began to fondle it gently with three fingers. He gasped with pleasure and asked if I would take it in my mouth.

I was too shy to open my lips to him, but did give the tip a quick kiss. A moment later he erupted in orgasm, spraying a copious amount of come over my fingers and splashing my face. This was very exciting to me, and when he caressed my own stiff dick I unzipped my pants and let him take out my penis, smaller than his but fully erect. He skillfully caressed me and I came quickly and delightfully. He brought a warm facecloth to clean up with, and (relaxed now) we sat and drank more coffee and chatted amicably until it was time for me to return to New Braunfels.

At his suggestion we took a final tour of the dungeon. I was leaning over the horse, picturing being strapped to it naked and awaiting the impact of a whip or paddle on my tender round bottom. Mike stepped up behind me and gently pressed his groin against my buttocks. I felt his hardening cock and daringly pushed back against him.

We pressed ourselves together for half a minute or so and I felt myself growing rigid. But time was against me; I had to leave. He courteously stepped away to release me, but not before he had laid a powerful finger upon my parted lips. This time I obediently opened my mouth and admitted him, sucking him teasingly. He probed my soft mouth until my breath was coming fast and I suddenly flashed on unbuckling my pants and presenting him with my naked, virgin bottom. The thought of his beautiful cock penetrating me in my virgin mouth and ass was incredibly exciting. But this wasn't the day, and I bade my farewell.

Before I left, he handed me a card with his phone number. "I know you're new to this. But I'd like to see you again. I think deep down you would like to put on the collar and be trained in submission. But reflect on it and if you decide you're ready for a session, call. You can be sure you will be putting yourself in the hands of an experienced master. I assure you that you will receive my undivided attention. Think about being naked, helpless and spanked. And call me midweek if you like." We shook hands, and I went on my way.

It was very difficult attending to my work the following week. I constantly created scenarios involving the various items in the dungeon in my thoughts, and moved around in an almost constant state of excitement. I fondled myself every time I was alone, but refrained from taking it to completion. I guess I knew that I was going to accept Mike's invitation and wanted to save my energy. Though frightening visions of kidnap and violence frequently popped into my head, mid Wednesday afternoon I texted him to say that I would present myself at his door at 6 pm on Friday. The die was cast.

He responded that he greatly looked forward to it, that I would be perfectly safe, and (among other instructions) to shave my body hair before my visit. I would be welcome to stay the weekend; I need bring only a toothbrush and a smile. Preparing myself accordingly, I was waiting promptly, though nervously, at his front door when Friday evening came around.

He answered the door immediately and welcomed me. We sat in the living room chatting and drinking a cocktail. I was extremely nervous and shifted my bottom constantly on the couch, though he was friendly and at ease. The alcohol relaxed me, and observing this he took the bull by the horns.

"Well, you're here of your own free will, And it's going to be good. So strip off, and show me that sweet body." Obediently I rose and unbuttoned my shirt and pants. Easing off my shoes, I stood blushing in only my underpants and socks. He examined me keenly, then gestured for me to get the rest off. Completely naked, I posed shyly before him. My cock, newly shaved, stuck directly out in front of me, and he flipped it with his fingers jokingly.

"Turn around and show me your little ass." I gulped and complied, and when directed bent double and parted my round buttocks to expose my virgin asshole. Telling me to hold the position, he stepped to me and gently placed his fingers on my anus. I shivered violently as he slid a fingertip inside me. "You have a tight butt. Good. It will need a little breaking in. You haven't been fucked before, have you?" he whispered to me as he massaged the slippery walls of my rectum. I was close to passing out from excitement and anticipation.

I shook my head as he picked up the leather collar. "Ready? Once this goes on, you don't get to say what happens." I nodded and he buckled the stiff leather around my neck. Its considerable width compelled me to keep my head erect. When he fastened the last buckle, the realization of my helplessness and submission crashed in on me. I started to expostulate, but he tenderly placed his hand over my mouth and shushed me.

Skillfully he fastened leather bracelets around my wrists and clipped them together so that my arms were secured parallel. The collar had a strip of leather in the back, to which my wrists were fastened so that I was not able to cover my bottom. Naked, helpless and exposed, I was drawn along by a strong hand into the dungeon, marched up to the horse, and obliged to kneel over it. My collar was clipped to a ring and I was made to place my knees on either side. My ankles and wrists were strapped into pace. Completely restrained, I could feel the cool air on my parted buttocks.

Though I had wished to maintain a dignified silence, my nervousness was such that I constantly asked what he was going to do to me. He resolutely ignored me as he finished securing me. My cock and balls protruded past the edge of the horse, rendering them very easy of access, and my now-Master caressed me gently. I moaned and tried to rub myself against him, but he laughed and stepped away.

Instead he gripped my nipple, suddenly erect, and attached a small metal clamp with sharp teeth. A stab of pain shot through me, followed by another as he addressed my other bud the same way. I could not reach them or attempt to brush the clamps off, and they proceeded to channel a good deal of discomfort, although made exciting, perhaps by my naked helplessness. Chuckling, Mike flicked each decoration a few times with his finger. The pain from the swinging weight was rendered considerably more piercing. I gasped, then attempted to lie as still as possible so as to avoid setting them moving, which was immediately painful.

He stepped away again, and though the bonds prevented me from seeing behind me, I could tell he was perusing the racks of instruments. Making a selection -- it was a paddle made of thick leather -- he swung it a few times experimentally, tapping my cringing bottom gently. Then with a swishing sound he laid it on my cringing bottom very hard. I squealed with surprise and pain as it cracked on my soft skin.

He began a slow but steady series of impacts, delivering another just as the pain from the previous blow had begun to recede. The individual blows were not excruciating in themselves, but the repeated contacts gradually built a crescendo of stinging pain. Soon I was writhing in my bonds, trying hopelessly to avoid the strokes and begging for a moment to recover.

My bottom felt like it was on fire and I was squealing and pleading with him to stop, if only for a minute. He did not comply with my stammering pleas and continued to chastise me until tears were pouring down my face. Then he stopped briefly, but only to select a short whip and use that on my lower back, buttocks and thighs. This was distinctly more agonizing than the paddle, and I let out a blood curdling scream when it bit.

He desisted briefly from his work, but only long enough to select a ball gag and thrust it into my panting mouth, pinching my nostrils closed so I had to open my lips to breathe. Thus silenced, I could only grunt, drool and writhe feebly. He was able to place his strokes exactly where he wished; and evidently had much experience in delivering agony. My bonds almost completely circumscribed my movements, especially the link that fastened my collar to the horse.

My widely twitching naked bottom must have aroused him, for he desisted temporarily from inflicting punishment. Instead he thrust two fingers, coated in Vaseline, into my anus and began to probe me deeply. I was overcome with embarrassment and struggled widely to detach my rectum from his penetrating digits. But he easily anticipated my movements and fucked me thoroughly with his fingers, to my extreme shame. Tiring of this, he picked up the short whip again, and immediately made me wish he'd kept his fingers in me instead. Of course, the inevitability of taking his cock in my ass was becoming clear to me.

At last he ordained a pause from beating me. By then I was lying motionless, sobbing quietly. Tears, snot and drool from the gag coated my front. Solicitously Mike wiped my face. Unbuckling my bonds, he helped me off the horse. I stood before him naked, my bottom aflame, my eyes downcast in shame, though my cock was on full alert. I saw that he had changed into a tight pair of leather breeches with a hole cut at the crotch. His broad chest was bare. His thick cock, stiff and twitching, thrust out from the opening. I couldn't take my eyes off it, rigid yet delightfully soft. I wanted to fondle it, but my arms were still bound behind me. He did however unbuckle the gag.

He grasped my shoulder and I sank gratefully to my knees. I sought his cock with my mouth and took it in, licking and sucking as passionately as I knew how. I wanted to pleasure him, as well as delay further painful attentions. He stood and allowed me to caress him, uttering an occasional small sound of pleasure. Then he began to fuck my mouth steadily, gripping my hair so as to thrust deeper. I was choking and gagging as he pushed into my throat, but was helpless to resist him.

He fucked me slowly and deeply while I strove not to choke on his flesh. Yet my helplessness before his rigid shaft was highly arousing. A shiver of delight ran through me as I reflected that I would not be allowed to leave before he sampled my ass. He had pretty much demolished my resistance, and now I pondered the best ways to pleasure him before he started punishing me again.

I could feel his cock swelling and knew he was going to come in my mouth. This was wildly exciting; my own cock was swollen to bursting, and I could feel it twitching furiously. If I had been able to touch it, it would have exploded immediately. A stunning spurt of liquid, followed by numerous others, gushed into my throat. Choking, I tried to swallow as much as possible. My mouth filled with the salty, slippery liquid and it poured onto my chin.

Mike was convulsing in my mouth; he held my hair tightly to penetrate me better. Finally he was done. With a heartfelt groan of satisfaction he withdrew from my plundered mouth and allowed me to slump forward. However, he retained a firm grip on my hair and pulled me back up. He led me to a cage -- about the right size for a large dog -- in the corner of the room and guided me through the hinged door with a few gentle kicks between my naked buttocks.

I crawled inside; he closed the gate and fastened it. I found myself kneeling full length in a confined space, my wrists still bound behind me. A moment later the room was plunged into darkness, and I was left in my prison with a burning bottom and a ravaged mouth. My cock had received no release and throbbed fiercely; when I pressed against the floor it sent an exquisite spasm of pleasure through me.

I don't know how long I was left there. Certainly long enough for Mike to recharge his batteries and find a new instrument for my tenderized bottom. In spite of my stretched mouth and burning cheeks, I felt wonderful, free of restriction. I suppose it was then that I truly recognized my new status: a slave, a servant, a fuck toy come receptacle, a bottom to be whipped, an asshole to be penetrated.

The light in the dungeon went back on. Opening the gate, Mike pulled me out of the cage by one bare foot. Painfully I struggled to my feet, where with one hand knotted in my wet hair and two fingers deep in my rectum, he guided me back to the horse. He buckled me back into place. Looking keenly into my wide open, liquid eyes, he spoke almost kindly.

"I'm going to cane you now. It's going to hurt. You will count each stroke and thank me. Twelve, I think. Don't lose count or forget to thank me each time. If you do I'll have to start at the beginning."

"One." I gasped at the pain and tried to prepare for the next. "Two, thank you Master." I cried out; the fiery burn was exquisitely painful. "Three..." I shrieked as the cane crossed the previous welt. At the sixth I was sobbing hysterically and wriggling my bottom wildly. Seven, eight, nine descended as I howled. By the twelfth I was crying desperately and had given up trying to evade the wicked strokes. When it was over I lay on the cool leather of the horse and sobbed without cease. I felt broken and helpless and ready to obey.

Again Mike unbuckled my bonds. As I wept quietly and steadily, he drew me gently to the bed at the side of the dungeon. I hobbled painfully over to it and obediently leaned over it and presented my bottom to him. Somehow I knew that he was ready to fuck my ass. And I was ready too. His attentions to it inside and out were filling me with passion. I wanted him to take me there. All resistance had left me and I wanted only to please him. I felt the slippery Vaseline under my fingers as I parted my cheeks to give him access.

He moved behind me and I felt his hardness between my buttocks. He guided his head to my shy entrance and pressed forward. There was a twinge of pain as he entered me, but I tried to press back to admit him further. However, rather than thrusting forward he stayed just inside my entrance. It felt exquisite; the nerve endings inside were delighting at the intrusion.

Slowly and steadily he moved forward into me; there was little pain and the sensation of being filled up by him was delicious. When his entire cock was as deep as it could go - I almost orgasmed as he hit full extension inside me- he began to fuck me slowly and deeply. I squirmed in pleasure as he slid in and out of my now relaxed anus. I found I loved being fucked in the ass, I felt like a wife trying to please her man. He reached in front of me to caress my aching cock, and my mind went blank. I began the best orgasm of my life as his cock ploughed me, and we came almost together; a warm fountain saturated my most secret place.