I looked at the clock again, for about the fiftieth time in the last hour or so. Seventeen minutes to six. The message could come in two minutes or one hundred and twenty-two minutes. Or not at all! Another glance around the preparations I had made, partly out of sheer nervousness and partly to ensure that when the time came I could make the final arrangements without thinking. Quarter to six! Suddenly very tense. My mood swung frequently between a strong urge to call it off simply by sending a text and intense excitement which gave me a rock hard erection. I was sitting in my back room naked under my dressing gown, well actually I was also "wearing" straps round my wrists and ankles.
These straps turned me on like hell and the thought of them made me get up, take off my dressing gown and look at myself in the full length mirror I had set up. Erection at maximum, I again gave in to the urge and buckled the ball-gag into my mouth. Looking in the mirror I was aware that I looked ridiculous but this also emphasised the anticipation of the humiliation to come. My hand strayed to my dick. No! No! No! If I had a wank before I got the message I knew that i would call it off. My erection diminished as I pondered the difficulty that would come between receiving the message and making myself ready for the main event.
There is no way I could stay gagged for what could be two hours so I removed it and donned my gown again. Six minutes to six. Doubts came crashing in again. What the fuck did I think I was doing? I was mad to have let it get this far. How could I have agreed to have these things done to me? How could I have actually told someone of my fantasy? Would it just lead to humiliation? Humiliation would be the order of the day, (well days, weeks or months) even if either of us called it off.
Humiliation! Yes! The thought of it had brought back my erection. Christ! I could do with a wank just to relieve the tension a bit.
Six o'clock. Another session with the gag in front of the mirror. Don't wank, don't wank! Gag out, gown on, sit down. Pulse racing, mouth dry. Fucking hell, I can't stand much more of this.
Twelve minutes past six. Check over the equipment again. Run through the things I'd have to do in the fifteen minutes between the message and the action. Get it into your head! You've got to be able to do it without thinking! I was regretting the twist I had suggested – it would be a really powerful part of the action but it would make the set-up really difficult.
Beep, beep, beep! Six-twenty and there was a message! Yes it's from the right person. With difficulty I unlocked my 'phone and got to "read message". Yes or no? It was simply "6.35". My hands trembled slightly as I responded with "OK".
Here we go. To the front door. Unlock. Leave key in keyhole. Gown off. Lie back in my chair. Oh fuck! Not much of an erection! Shit! The best laid plans ..... Get the gag in and stand in front of the mirror. Try to relax. Time, which had been crawling for the last few hours, suddenly went into overdrive. Hands to dick! Phew! It was coming back to life. Wank, wank ,wank. Reach out for the small bowl just in time. Milk my cum into the bowl. Don't want to go through with it! Must do! Do it! Do it! Right! Six twenty-seven. Don't think about what is to come. Just do what you have to do. Concentrate. Go to the kitchen. Put the bowl into the ice compartment in the fridge. Wipe dick on some tissue.
Six twenty-nine. Back to the other room. Push record button on the video camera. Stand up to the table. Clip right ankle to the ring tied to the table leg. Lean across the table and clip right wrist to a similar ring. Glance at clock. Six thirty-three. Reach for the blindfold and place over the eyes. I'd done it! I'd spent the last twenty-odd hours fantasising about being exactly here. The low that I reached upon ejaculation was starting to ease now – I was amazed that I had got through the last six minutes without running to the front door and locking it!
Click, that was the front door opening. Click, closing. Click.click locked. I couldn't help but hold my breath. Footsteps. Stop next to my head. Left hand pulled over and clipped into position. The same with my left leg. Leather strap threaded under the table and pulled tight round my waist. Another one positioned round my shoulders. So here I was! Absolutely helpless, gagged, my bum totally unprotected sticking out at one end of the table and my head just clear of the other end.
A small bunch of keys was pressed into my right hand and I grasped them tightly. A hand was then thrust between my legs and began to stroke my dick. With a bit of luck I would at least start with an erection. A rattle told me that the equipment I had laid out on another table was being examined. Then waiting, waiting for what felt like eons but was really just twenty seconds or so. So far not a word had been spoken (especially by me).
Tap, tap, tap. I hoped that that was the lighter of the two canes which I provided. Pause. A short whistle and the cane slashed across my bum. It stung rather than hurt but I was sure that this was just a sighter. Three further similar strokes followed. Pause, a shuffle of feet being repositioned then a somewhat louder whistle. Thwack! That hurt! Thwack, thwack, thwack.... The strokes followed one another and whilst the individual strokes were bearable they started to build layer upon layer of pain. In a sense, though, I was taking punishment in order to stave off what was to come. Eventually after one angled stroke which must have crossed several existing stripes, I gave in. Opening my hand I let the keys fall to the floor with a rattle.
Slience. Nothing happened for perhaps a couple of minutes, I couldn't really tell as my sense of time had deserted me. Eventually the keys were offered back to my hand (in case I had dropped them by mistake) but I rejected them.
I had had enough. I wanted the whole thing to finish now. But I knew it wouldn't. We had a clear agreement about what was to be done and anyway I was hardly in a position to say what I felt. I heard the cane being flung down and I knew that the heavier cane would now be brought into play. Play? I knew that would definitely not be the right word!
Tap, tap, tap. "Right. Concentrate on these six. You'll get six more each time if you don't do what you are told".
The first stroke slashed into my bum. Absolute agony, which brought tears to my eyes and made me gasp into my gag. I had expected serious pain, in fact I'd bloody well asked for it, but this was something different. That must have been a full-force stroke. I lay tensed for the next blow but it did not come. There was absolutely no sound and I just waited and waited and waited. Fucking sadist!
I heard the cane whistle through the air an instant before a second line of fire exploded across my bum. The lower part of my body started trembling as I fought to control the pain but a second later a third stroke ripped into me. Almost immediately the fourth stroke cut into my flesh. I was now simply screaming into my gag, God only knows what sounds must have filled the room but I was oblivious to that as my body jerked about within it's restraints. I had lost control now, tears rolled down my face, saliva dribbled out of my mouth and I think a little piss dribbled form my penis.
The fifth stroke was a long time coming. I waited, praying that this ordeal would finish. I waited so long that I wondered whether the state of my bum meant that I couldn't take any more. I thought that I could feel blood trickling down my legs. I had visions of my bum simply torn to pieces!
Then the cane was tapping again. But I was partly right as this time the cane was tapped across the back of my thighs. Weirdly I felt a kind of triumph that my bum was too badly damaged to take more punishment.
Tap, tap, tap. Get on with it you bastard!
Whooosh! I was totally unprepared as the cane sliced diagonally across my bum. I don't think that this hit was quite as hard as before but the shock knocked all the breath out of me and I lay there like a lifeless doll.
"The last stroke should always be the hardest!"
Thanks! The voice did make me pull myself together. It was going to be the last stroke! Relief at this thought was short-lived though – during this beating I had forgotten that this was only the opening act. A very different ordeal was to follow!
All the punishment had been delivered from my left side but now I felt movement round to my right. Surprisingly I was clear-headed enough to realise that number six was going to be a mirror image of the last stroke.
Number six was a bit of an anticlimax. It had to be delivered as a back-hand and simply lacked the power of the previous strokes. It still hurt like hell as it crossed over several other stripes but I had endured it!
I fought the pain as best as I could. My laboured breathing must have shown my distress. I felt a gentle hand on my bum, stroking and patting which had a soothing effect and I gradually regained my composure. Fingers lightly traced the weals which must have covered my cheeks.
The hand was withdrawn and I heard the rustle of clothes being removed behind me. I now had time to contemplate what was to come next and I didn't like it! I didn't want to do it but I knew there was no way out. Well, I had asked for it! I had bloody well agreed to be abused in a way which now disgusted me. I had agreed to be treated like I had because I knew it would disgust me. That was the whole bloody point. No way out – just like I had intended!
Footsteps came to my head and then my blindfold was removed. Right in front of my eyes was Pete's hard dick. I hadn't seen it before and was relieved to see that it was no more than about average size. Pete waved his dick about in a taunting manner, flicking it casually at my face.
"Let's get things straight. You will not speak. You will do as you are told. We will do what I want, not what is easy for you. If you break the rules you will get six with the big cane, given as hard as before"
He then strode off towards the kitchen. I noticed that the video camera was now focussed on my face rather than my bum.
Pete came back carrying the small bowl from the fridge. He took great pleasure in showing the contents which the cold had maintained in a milky viscous state. I had thoughtfully used a bowl which had a small pouring lip and he slowly poured my cum over the end of his dick. Carefully ensuring that none was spilt he smeared the last inch of his dick. He now tapped my bum with the cane and said "I'm going to take your gag out now. You are not to speak." Another tap of the cane to emphasise his instruction. He reached behind my head and removed the gag. He placed his dick directly in front of my face, my semen gleaming at the end. "Open your mouth, wide as you can". I hesitated but knew I had no choice so I did as I was told. Very slowly he stuck his dick into my mouth, making sure that my cum was not wiped off.
"Close your mouth. Lick all round it.
