A Secret Club

Over the course of the summer, Tod kept a faithful schedule of visiting Manclub. And in that span of time, I saw him flourish. He was less and less the brooding, uncertain, second-guesser, and more the confident, forward thinking young man I knew him to be. He even took on a kind of swagger; cracking jokes, teasing his sister Candace - albeit, affectionately, and just generally feeling the power of being an upright, virile man.

After his times with Jason, we would talk, and these became something like therapy sessions. For both of us, really. For, while I felt it was important for Tod to articulate the feelings he experienced there, I found myself gaining more insight into my own relationship with Jason. All in all, Tod had opened some new and tantalizing doors into that! As usual, we met in the den, and I will relate a recent debriefing here.

He arrived home late. It was after two when I heard the tires on the gravel drive. Tod could see the light on in the den from outside, and he came directly there.

"How'd our boy treat you, Tod? Have fun?" I said, handing him a brandy.

"It was very good, Dad. Really. He did his assigned work, and he'd clearly put time and effort into it. I was pleased with him, and I let him know." Tod said, rising momentarily to remove his jacket.

"And what exactly..."

"Oh. The assignments. Well, I'm a little embarrassed by it."

"Come on, Tod." I encouraged, "We're not keeping secrets, are we?" I said, tongue in cheek.

"No. No, of course not." he said, smiling. "Well, one part of it was to write a poem."

"Really? Well now, aren't you the academic." I said, and we both laughed at that.

"Yes, really." Tod said, with mock emphasis.

"Any particular topic?" I asked, continuing our playful sparring.

"The assignment, Dad, was to write a poem to my penis, if you must know."

"A sonnet? An ode? Any special form?"

"All right, all right!" Tod said. "Stop ribbing me!"

"Okay. Sorry. I couldn't help myself. Actually, it sounds rather intriguing. Do you have it with you?"

Tod reached for his jacket on the adjacent chair, and produced a page from one of the pockets. He unfolded it.

"To Mr Tod's Penis." He began. I settled back into my chair.

Face to face we meet,

Your single, knowing eye upon me.

I am made small in your presence,

lost in the breadth

of your infinite power. Who am I?

Your warm shaft

carries its languid pulse

to the plump, lolling head.

Will my lips caress it? Will I be so blessed?

My prayers go up

to the man above, pleading

"Sir, may I?"

Tod folded the paper, tucking it into his shirt pocket.

"Well, now." I said. "I'm impressed. I mean, I don't know the first thing about poetry, but that sounded... very sincere, I'd say."

"I had him read it to me while kneeling before me. That made it even cooler." Tod said, clearly delighted with how it transpired.

"Very good, Tod. You're digging into the psychological part of all this and, as they say, 'there's gold in them thar hills.' " I said, chuckling.

"It turned me on in a big way, Dad. No kidding. It was like my dick was superior to him, like it was a person all its own. I'll bet if it could talk, he'd do whatever it told him to do."

"You could always learn ventriloquism." I said, straight-faced, and Tod doubled over.

"Hey, anything goes!" he said, and no truer words were ever uttered.

"You said 'assignments', Tod. What else was there?" I asked, keenly interested to learn what else my creative son had cooked up.

"The other was another poem." he explained, "This one was to describe his life before and after he became your slave." he said, and I was pleased that I had been, even incidentally, brought into the picture.

"Can I hear it?" I said, but even as I asked, Tod was looking through his jacket, finally finding the pocket that contained the other verse.

Tod cleared his throat:

A Lost Boy is Found

Small and weak

By the side of the road.

(Tossed there by uncaring souls),

His feeble whimperings are barely heard.

But footsteps,... now closer, then:

Lifted aloft by strong hands,

Their vigor imbues his pallid body.

He is home.

We sat in silence for some moments.

"Gee, Tod. That was amazing." I said, bowled over by the simple, penetrating words.

"Yeah." Tod said. "For me, too. I was deeply moved when he read it. He was crying as he did. He told me it was was for both of us, but that he envisioned you as the man who picked him up."

"Well, now. This certainly adds another dimension to things." I said, savoring the worshipful tone of the poem. I began to feel I'd been ignoring a fertile aspect of Jason's potential.

"I sure got off on it, Dad. Maybe you could do something in that vein. I don't know. You could have fun just thinking something up." Tod said.

"I'll definitely give it some thought." I said.

My next visit to Manclub was two days after that meeting with Tod, and the energy of the poems was still preoccupying me. I hadn't been to the club in more than a week, and I was pleased at the reception Jason gave me.

He was waiting in my rooms, kneeling in the foyer, when I arrived. I left him there while I put my bag in the bedroom, and took off my jacket and tie. I'd just come from a meeting. When I rejoined him in the foyer, I gave him leave to greet me. Well, Such exuberance!Frankly, I had wondered if Tod's involvement in the arrangement had lessened Jason's fervor for me. But his display of excited devotion belied that. He groveled at my feet, hugging my ankles, kissing the tops of my shoes, and making the sweetest sounds in his throat, such as you may hear from a dog who has not seen it's master in some time. It was very touching.

"There's my good boy." I said softly as he covered my shoes in kisses. "You're my good boy, Jason."

"I am your boy, Mister Victor, aren't I?" he said, sounding uncertain and somewhat nervous.

"Get a cloth and clean off my shoes." I told him. He had marred the shine with his saliva.

He dashed off, returning with a dish towel. He went immediately to work.

"You had quite a time with my son, I hear." I said, looking down on his frenetic wiping and buffing.

"He is a kind and wonderful man, sir. I'm happy if he had some enjoyment from me." Jason said, applying the finishing touches to the shoes.

"It seems he had plenty of that." I said, and the ominous tone was not missed on Jason.

"I am yours, and no one else's, Mister Victor!" Jason said, looking up at me with anxiety in his pale grey eyes.

I began to unbuckle my belt, and I looked on with satisfaction as Jason watched my fingers undo it and slide it through its loops.

"Get into the bedroom." I said.

Jason scurried at once into the bedroom, his smooth buttocks jiggling as he went.

'They will be feeling the sting of my leather in moments', I thought, noting, as I did, the anger that Tod's power over him had engendered in me. No matter. Giving Jason a good whipping always allayed these sorts of feelings. Soon we would again be on an even keel.

Jason was in position, holding on to the bed post. His legs, as usual, were quivering lightly, and he faced in towards the bed, giving me full access to his back, his ass, and the backs of his legs, all of which would soon be sporting stripes, if not welts. I was that angry with him.

"Who's the boss, slaveboy?"I said, and brought the belt down squarely and forcefully onto his buttocks. The skin there immediately reddened.

"You, sir! You, Mr Victor, sir!, Only you, sir!" Jason cried out. But he barely got these words past his lips when the belt cracked again.

That's right, you pathetic worm." I said, laying into him with regularity now, finding my stride. I watched as Jason's knuckles whitened where he was grasping the bedpost.

I began turning my attention to his legs, and soon impressive criss-crossed stripes were forming there.

"Who brought you out of your worthless existence? Who helped you find what you were good for, you contemptible shit? You weakling?" I snarled.

Along with my indignation, there also arose a pure carnal pleasure at whipping him. This 'boy' would take whatever I dished out to him and then he'd thank me for it. I smiled at this, knowing that when I was done, he would come crawling to me. And those were special moments.

I stepped back and surveyed my work. I had concentrated on Jason's ass cheeks and the backs of his legs. He was well marked. I coiled up the belt and left it on the bed for him to see. He was making an effort to control his emotions, but he was crying softly.

"Collect yourself, then come to me in the living room." I said, then left.

I went to the living room and poured a brandy. I looked out over the manicured grounds to the woods beyond. I considered how using the belt as a training tool kept Jason focused, but I knew that part of my reasoning for this session was in response to his developing relationship with Tod. But I would be the dominant figure, the feared figure in all of this, no question, I told myself. This thing with Tod could be relegated to a fling. I could cut it off at any time. I was,after all, 'the boss'.

In a few minutes, Jason quietly entered the room. I turned to watch him crawl slowly towards me, his head hung low. When he got to where I was standing, he stopped. Leaving him there, I stepped to the windows and closed the curtains.

"Come here, boy." I said, and Jason came to me.

"Do you know why I whipped you, Jason?" I said. "Look at me."

Jason turned his face up towards me. His lower lip was trembling.

"Yes, sir. I do."

"And?"

"I should have spoken to you before seeing Mr Tod so that you could give me direction." he said, and he was not far off the mark.

"You two had a wild time for yourselves, didn't you?"

"It was partly the marijuana and the alcohol, sir. I'm not used to it." he said contritely. "I'm sorry."

"Stand up. I want to see where I whipped you." I said, realizing that, given the energy with which I had delivered the blows, he might need attention.

"Hmmmm. You have a bit of a break in the skin here." I said, examining one of the more prominent stripes on his buttocks. "Get the first aid kit."

Jason went off for the kit, and I watched and admired my handiwork as he hurried off.

The breach in the skin was not deep, but it needed dressing. I taped a non-stick bandage treated with antibiotic ointment to it. I decided that, if weather permitted, I would walk him about the grounds the next day.

Once bandaged, I had Jason kneel before me as I sat in one of the upholstered chairs.

He was calmer now, almost serenely at ease. Corporal correction normally had this effect on him. I believe it made him feel something... wanted, perhaps.

"That was a lot of effort you put me through, you know that?" I said, sternly.

Jason looked down to the floor.

"Please forgive me, sir." he said in a voice I barely heard.

"You can make it up to me, of course." I continued, and a sweet smile turned up the corners of Jason's mouth.

"Please? Won't you let me, sir?" he softly implored.

"Well, let me see." I said, taking a moment as if pondering how he might go about that.

"I think when a boy has been as bad as you've been, the only way of atonement is to apologize to my ass. Do you agree?" I said, though, of course, his agreement on the subject mattered not one bit.

At the sound of this 'suggestion', Jason's eyes brightened .

"Of course, Mr Victor. That is owed to you for all you've done for me. I really needed the beating you gave me. Yes, please, Won't you let me thank you for it?"

I stood and undid my pants, letting them fall to the floor.

"Fold them." I instructed. Jason folded them and placed them on the chair. I did the same with my boxers.

I tied the ends of my shirttails to my waist, bent forward, and rested my hands on my knees. Jason, without prompting, positioned himself behind me.

"You can see my anus quite well, can't you, Jason?" I said, feeling an erotic wave rush over me as I anticipated what was to come. Jason, especially after a whipping, was so wonderfully attentive when given this opportunity!

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Thank my anus, boy. It is to it that you must apologize and make amends. You are not fit to address me until you have done so." I said.

"Sir." Jason began, and I knew that there was no need for me to respond. he was now in a reverie of communion with my hole.

"Sir, I'm so sorry. I know I am not worthy to speak to you, but Mr Victor has instructed me to. I'm sorry for being bad. I only hope I can be nice to you so that Mr Victor will no longer be angry with me." he said, and I knew he was gazing imploringly at my anus as he spoke.

"He wants to forgive you, Jason. He can tell by your voice that you are truly sorry." I said. " If you kiss and lick him, he may let you be his friend again. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Yes, Mr Victor. Very much."

"Okay then, you may apologize." I said, then waited for the first feel of those soft lips on my sphincter.

Jason lost no time. The feel of his warm lips sent a shiver into my scrotum. I moved to the chair, kneeling on the seat with my ass presented for servicing. I was ready for a long session, and I had no doubt that Jason would be with me one hundred percent throughout. No doubt, he would beg for more after.

Following the initial kiss, many more rained down gently on the sensitive orifice. I could feel his nose nuzzling it, and I knew he was savoring my earthy man odor. As he did this, he continued to speak.

"I don't know what got into me, sir. Mr Victor knew I'd done wrong, and he took his belt to me. I needed it. I so want to be in his good graces again."

"I think you're making a good impression on him, Jason." I said. "Why don't you lick him some? He likes that."

Jason fell to lapping with long, slow tongue strokes, all the while apologizing. It was a very touching expression, all in all.

At one point I allowed him to put his tongue inside my asshole, and freshen it. At the end of a day, and it had been a long one for me, there's nothing quite like the sensitive warm tongue of one's boy finding a home in your asshole. No question!

Jason had his in to the hilt. Feeling it moving and reaching and searching parts that have never seen the light of day was exquisite. I knelt there with my eyes closed, and felt the fevered warmth of Jason's face against my cheeks. And I thought: all the acquisition, the Chicago trips, the training, all of it, was paying off in spades now. Such a good boy!