Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Whole New World

 In my best Monty Python voice....and now for something completely different....
Title: Whole New World

Authors: Rolf and Gayspankee
Characters: R/M/M, focusing on Marc
Warnings: This is NOT a discipline story. It deals with Marc's try with S/M. Very light stuff, but did want to warn those that have no desire to read this. We hope you enjoy.

"Damnit, I knew I shouldn't have had that extra glass of water!" Marc said aloud, rolling over to look at the clock. "12:15! In bed for thirty minutes, now I have to drag it out to piss. Bloody 'ell!"

Marc pulled his tired body out of bed. He had spent his Saturday painting, and was not ashamed to be in bed so early on his one night to party. He made his way to the bathroom and relieved himself. On his way back to the bedroom, Marc glanced toward the window and noticed a light on at his neighbor Devin's house. Marc's voyeuristic instincts kicked in and he took a closer peek, hoping for some raw footage. He had only spoken to Devin a couple of times, but there was something about him that made Marc weak in the knees. As Marc peered out the window, he was thoroughly disappointed to see that the light was behind a drawn shade. His hopes of seeing any raw footage were dashed. Just as he was ready to return to his bedroom, something caught Marc's eye. A light popped on in the next room, where the shade was up. Marc's eyes widened as he watched a young man, clothed in only a jockstrap, enter the room.

The guy had something in his mouth, bright orange, sort of like a tennis ball, and what appeared to be a dog collar around his neck. The collared young man was pushed into the room and was soon out of sight. Marc's eyes went to the doorway where Devin was standing. It was hard to make out, but it seemed he was wearing leather. He let the blinds snap back into place and backed up quickly when he made direct eye contact with Devin, certain he'd been spotted.

Marc was completely aroused by the brief image he had seen. He wanted desperately to get his binoculars, but didn't need "Peeping Tom" on his record. He reluctantly returned to bed, allowing his imagination to continue the scene. Marc's hand soon slid down his torso to his underwear. He slipped his hand under the waistband, and slowly began to stroke his raging hard on. His mind was swirling in a hundred directions. He knew there wasn't much mistaking what he had seen. And Marc knew he wanted to see more. His strokes quickened with each passing second, and before long he released a powerful orgasm in his underwear. He laid still for a few minutes, allowing his breathing to return to normal. He stared at his bedroom window and wished for x-ray vision. Marc was spent, exhausted from his hard labored day as well as from the erotic images he had seen. Marc slid his cum soaked underwear off his sweaty body and tossed them on the floor. He rolled over and fell fast asleep.


It was Friday afternoon, nearly a week passing since Marc had gotten an eyeful. Every evening he had checked out his window, but that had been the first and last bit of excitement he had witnessed. He stepped out onto his front porch to take advantage of the beautiful weather, when he was startled by his neighbor's greeting.

"Hi neighbor," Devin called from his porch.

Marc looked over to see a beautiful sight. Devin was six foot, slim build, piercing blue eyes. He stood there without his shirt, his smooth chest glistening with sweat.

"Hey," Marc replied, kicking himself for such a lame response.

"I know we haven't chatted much since I moved in, but I remember you offered to help with anything if you could..."

"What's up?" Marc smiled and walked next door.

"Well I couldn't help but notice you must be an expert painter," Devin replied, pointing to the half dozen empty paint cans at the curb.

"Let me guess, you have bitten off more than you can chew?" Marc replied.

"If you want to word it like that...yeah! I know painting sucks, but if you have no plans there is dinner in it for you."

"Pizza?" Marc replied, pointing to the empty pizza boxes on the porch.

"For tonight, yes. But something more elegant and from the heart tomorrow night. I mean, if you are available," Devin added quickly.

Marc blushed. He wasn't certain, but was fairly sure he had just been asked out. Regardless, Matthew and Rolf had plans for the weekend, and Marc had little planned other than lounging around.

"You are lucky you have that smile. I bet you can charm your way into just about anything," Marc replied with a smile.

Now Devin was blushing. "So that is a yes?"

Marc nodded.

"Wonderful. Thank you very much. Please, come in." Devin entered his home first and stepped to the side to allow Marc to enter. "Painting the living room as it desperately needed some color. I had a friend here last week, thought he would come back and help me, but he called today and said something had come up."

Marc's mind was swirling and his head was spinning. He remembered last week so vividly. In fact, he had relived that scene every night that week. Trying hard not to be obvious, he was looking everywhere and anywhere, for something, anything that would verify what he saw. He couldn't see any toys, and before long he was hard at work painting, and working up a good sweat.

"Sorry that the A/C isn't on yet. It needs to be serviced," Devin replied, noticing the sweat pouring off of Marc. He walked over to him and tugged at his t-shirt. "You may want to take this off, let your body breathe."

Marc's heart was racing as Devin touched him gently. He gratefully complied and removed his shirt. Devin stepped back and admired Marc's physique with a brief twinkle in his eye.

"Would you like a soda?"

"Water actually would be great."

"Water it is," Devin replied before trailing off, "boy."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Marc asked.

"I said water it is. Ice? I asked if you wanted ice." Devin said quickly.

"Oh, uh, yes please."

After drinking the tall, cold glass of water, they continued painting. The job went by much faster with two hard workers and thanks to the quality of the paint, they'd only need a single coat.

"Water is kicking in. May I use your restroom?" Marc asked.

"Certainly. Up the stairs, straight ahead."

Marc nodded, set down his brush and walked upstairs. His heart began to race again, wanting desperately to find the confirmation he so desired. As he walked down the hallway, he peered into each doorway doing a quick survey of the room. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he made his way into the bathroom and relieved himself. Quickly washing his hands, he returned to the hallway. As he made his way slowly back towards the stairs, he looked in each room again. As he popped his head into the last room on the right, he realized that this had been the room that he'd seen Devin's visitor in. He stepped halfway in, making sure Devin wasn't coming up the stairs. Just as he was ready to leave, he spotted what he was looking for. There, on the dresser, was a pair of handcuffs. Marc knew there could be a rational explanation for those, but wasn't sure he wanted something rational this time. He left the room quickly, not wanting his new friend to find him snooping. As he left the room, he pulled the door shut behind him, and continued down the stairs.

"Thought you fell asleep on my bed."

"What? I wasn't in your room, I was..." Marc said guiltily.

"No, I didn't mean that. I just meant you were gone for a bit, thought you were trying to back out of painting."

"No just stretching is all," Marc replied, relieved.

"Well, I ordered the pizza, and if we're lucky we'll finish before it arrives."

"We did make pretty good time and it looks great."

"Well, I would have been here all night if you hadn't helped," Devin said graciously.

Marc smiled and began working on the last area that was in need of paint. As Marc applied the last paint stroke, the doorbell rang. Devin answered the door and paid for the pizza and the two young man went into the kitchen for their hard earned pie. They made small talk, not divulging too much information. Finally, Marc was tired out from the job.

"Devin, thanks for the pizza but I am tuckered out."

"No, thank YOU. And don't forget tomorrow night, say 7 o'clock?"

"Seven would be good."

"Great, I will see you then," Devin replied, shaking Marc's hand and handing him his t-shirt. "Don't want to forget that."

Marc left and returned home. Devin locked the front door and was ready for a cooling shower. He walked upstairs and immediately saw the closed door. Knowing he had left all the doors open, he smiled as he opened it, entering the room to check if everything was still in place. Once that was assured, he turned to walk back out, but his eye was caught by the window. He could see across to Marc's upstairs window, watching as Marc disrobed along the way, and his bare bottom come into view as he went into a room and out of sight. He smiled as he leaned against the doorway, knowing that must have been Marc that he'd seen last week, and that Marc was interested in what he'd seen. Devin's smile widened as he realized that Marc had agreed to come to dinner the following night, so maybe, just maybe, he wished to experience more.

"Can't disappoint the lad, now can I?"


"Wow, look at you, barely recognized you!" Devin said as he opened his front door. "When did you go blonde?"

"This morning, a friend talked me into it," Marc replied.

"Well come in." Devin waited for Marc to pass. "It looks very nice on you."

"Thanks," Marc said, blushing.

"Dinner is all ready. We'll eat in the dining room."

"It smells delicious," Marc said as he trailed Devin into the dining room. "Can I help with anything?"

"No, just have a seat."

Marc did as requested. Devin took mental note of Marc's obedience, and went into the kitchen to serve dinner. He returned to the dining room with two overflowing plates.

"What can I get you to drink?"

"Whatever you're having will be fine," Marc replied.

Devin nodded and went to the kitchen to serve up two glasses of milk. He would have preferred wine, but with what he had planned he didn't want alcohol to interfere with.

"Your milk is served," Devin said before sitting down.

The two young men slowly dove into a quiet meal.

"This is very good. Is the sauce homemade?"

"Yes it is, old family recipe."

"Well, it's delicious."

"Thanks. Having Italian in the blood helps. So, you said a friend talked you into going blonde. Is that one of the two gentlemen that were there today?"

"Yes, that was Matthew and Rolf."

"Not that I stare out the window or anything but I've noticed them around often."

"Yeah, they're my best friends. Matthew is the shorter one with the blonde highlights."

"Highlights, huh? So why did you go total blonde? Is he living vicariously through you?"

"Perhaps," Marc replied, smiling. "He said I was too subdued to ever do anything like that, so I did it."

"I do like it."

Devin was biding his time, waiting for the end of the meal to make his move. They continued some more casual conversation until the food quickly cleared from the plate.

"Have you lived here long?" Devin asked.

"In that house you mean?"


"About two years, going on three. Come to think of it, I think this place was vacant the entire time I have lived here. I noticed you don't entertain much, not that I am looking," Marc quickly added.

"Still trying to get things in order." Devin figured this was a good opening. "And I did have Tobias here last weekend. I think you may have seen him," he said pointedly.

"Excuse me?" Marc asked quietly.

"Tobias, he was the young man walking around in nothing more than a jock and a collar," Devin said, making solid eye contact with Marc.

"I didn't...I mean I was..." Marc began stammering, looking down at his plate.

"You were peeping."

"No, I was ju-"

"Boy, don't lie."

Marc's eyes widened. The simple word 'boy' sent shivers down his spine. His heart was pounding.

"I'm sorry," Marc replied, before adding, "Sir."

"Sorry for what boy?"

"I am sorry for...trying to lie to you about what I had seen. Uh, Sir."

"Do you like calling me 'Sir' boy?"

Marc paused, then nodded his head to the affirmative.

"What else would you like to do boy?"

Marc began to tremble with emotion. He wasn't afraid of Devin, just unsure of the unknown. He knew this was his 'invitation' to venture into something new. Something dark and completely erotic.

"BOY! Answer me when I talk to you." Devin spat.

"Sorry, Sir." Marc replied, jumping from his thought. "I...would like to do....what ever would please you, Sir."

Devin now got a chill up his spine. He had dominated and disciplined a few men, but never any without prior experience.

"Are you afraid boy?" he asked quietly.

Marc was silent for a moment, unsure if he was supposed to reply
truthfully. "A little, Sir."

"Master. You will address me as Master, boy."

"Yes, Master." Marc replied, the word not quite coming easily to him.

"Much better boy. It is alright to be afraid. Fear will definitely heighten the senses. Apparently you trust me boy, or you wouldn't have come this far."

"Yes S-Master."

"Stand up boy."

Marc did as he was told. Devin stood up and made eye contact with Marc, standing very closely to him.

"Clear off the table, and leave the dishes in the sink. When the table is cleared off, you are to remove your clothing. You are to fold everything neatly and place it on the dining room table. You will then kneel in the center of the living room, hands on your head. You will not speak until spoken to. You will not move from that location until told to do so. Do you understand boy?" Devin spoke slowly and articulately, keeping solid eye contact through the entire dictation, as did Marc.

"Yes, Master."

"Then move, boy!"

Marc quickly began to clear the table. Devin watched as Marc took the first handful into the kitchen, then turned and went upstairs. Marc returned for the second handful and saw that Devin had left the room. He picked up the dishes, his hands shaking profusely.

"It's not too late," he thought to himself. "The door is right over there."

Marc contemplated that thought for a moment, and knew what he truly desired. He wanted to experience this, and he wanted to experience it with Devin. He piled on as much as he could and returned to the kitchen. He came back for one more handful, and dumped them in the requested location. Marc entered the dining room again and looked around, taking a deep breath. Pulling the shirt over his head, he folded it neatly and placed it on the table. He pulled his right leg up and slipped off his shoe and sock, and repeated the procedure with his left leg. He placed his socks inside his shoes, and placed them on top of his shirt. Marc then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and let them slide down to the floor. Picking them up, he folded them neatly, letting them rest with his shirt and shoes. Last but not least was his underwear. There seemed to be a gentle nip in the air, but he was uncertain whether it was cold or fear that was affecting him. He walked slowly into the living room. Marc felt very vulnerable and knew that was exactly what he was. He determined the center of the freshly painted room and knelt down, placing his hands on top of his head. And he waited.

Devin had ascended the stairs, his heart pounding. He was surprised at how easy it was to get Marc to submit. He walked up to his bedroom, opened the closet and removed his clothes. He went to the drawer and pulled out a black jockstrap and slid that on. He put on a leather harness, then finished up with a pair of black jeans. He felt around the top shelf until he located his whip. It had 30 leather falls attached to the handle, varying in width. Knowing that was the best one for a beginner, he closed the door and walked back over to the dresser. He pulled out a brand new jockstrap still in it's original packaging, along with a studded collar and the handcuffs that had been left there the day before. "These will do for now." Devin said quietly. He wanted to go downstairs, but waited to make Marc sweat.

Marc continued to kneel downstairs, feeling like he'd been there for hours. His arms were getting tired but he held them up, certain as soon as he put them down Devin would appear. His cock began to harden from the excitement of being nude in a new place and his nipples were also hard from the chill he still felt. Marc had fallen into a trance, his mind spinning with thoughts of what he may actually experience.

"BOY! Did I give you permission to get hard?" Devin barked, standing at the base of the stairs, having placed his items on the bottom step.

Marc jumped, not having heard or seen him come down.

"No, Master. Sorry, Master."

"Come over here boy." Devin ordered, pointing in front of him.

Marc slowly began to stand up.

"WHAT are you doing?" Devin asked quickly.

"Coming to you Master, as you requested."

"You do NOT come to me in that manner, boy. You will crawl to me. You will NEVER be at eye level with me boy, unless it is requested."

Marc returned to his kneeling stance, thinking about what was expected of him. He knew he could still go for the door, bur realized that isn't what he desired.

"Boy don't make me ask twice..."

Marc bent down on his hands and crawled to Devin. He started to return to a kneeling position when he got in front of Devin, but he quickly returned to his hands, as he realized he was not instructed to do otherwise.

"You do learn fast, don't you boy? Kiss my feet, boy."

Marc leaned forward further, and kissed Devin's right foot, and then his left.

"Kneel up boy."

Marc did as he was asked. Devin placed the collar around Marc's neck.

"You have been collared boy. Any time you enter my home you will have this on. It is a sign that you are mine and do as I instruct. Do you understand boy?"

"Yes Master."

"Good. Now hold out your hand."

Marc slowly raised his hand, unsure what awaited it. Devin handed him the jockstrap.

"Put this on boy."

Marc looked at it, sitting down to open it. He removed the jockstrap and pulled it up his body while lying on his back. He had always been intrigued by the athletic supporter, but never had worn one. The wide waistband felt a bit awkward around his waist and the soft mesh didn't offer much support across his crotch. The thin fabric made Marc become hard again but his cock strained against the mesh. He knelt back up, and adjusted the straps below his buttocks. Those too felt awkward. He was very aware of his buttocks now and knew those thin straps framed his butt nicely, exciting him further.

"With the exception of the collar, that is the only item you are to wear in my home, unless otherwise instructed. Any questions boy?"

"Master, surely you don't expect me to come over this way from next door?"

"You will be expected to strip immediately upon entering."

"Yes, Master."

"You admitted earlier to watching me from your window. You admitted to peeping in on my private session."

"I am sorry Master."

"You will be boy. How long did you watch me boy?"

"I am not sure Master. Not long only a minute or two, Master."

Devin turned to the stairs again and grabbed the whip. Marc's eyes widened when he saw it.

"Have you ever been flogged boy?"

"N-no Master."

"I didn't figure you had been. You will be flogged with this boy, 12 times for every minute you peeped. That is 24 total. I am going to whip every inch of your backside, from your shoulders to your thighs. Any questions boy?"

The only one Marc could think of was why he was still kneeling there. He had come this far though, and there was no turning back now.

"No, Master."

"Good. Put out your hands boy."

Marc hesitantly did as he was ordered. Devin placed the handcuffs on him.

"Stand, boy."

Marc slowly rose to his feet, the blood barely flowing from kneeling so long. Devin grabbed onto the chain of the cuffs with one hand and held the whip in the other. He guided Marc through the living room and into the dining room past Marc's neatly folded clothes. Devin walked them to the very end of the dining room to a closed door, opening that and pushing Marc in. The room was small, windowless, with a single light fixture hung from the ceiling. There was no furniture present, except for a bench in the middle of the room. The walls were white and bare, save for two hooks of staggering heights.

Devin entered the room and placed the whip on the bench. He then walked Marc over to the shorter of the two hooks, picking up and hanging the chain of the cuffs over the hook, raising Marc's hands high above his head. Once again he was completely vulnerable. Devin began to rub Marc's back and shoulders. It was like a deep massage, warming up the entire area. He spoke no words, just continued rubbing. He stopped abruptly and retrieved the whip from the bench.

"Ready boy?" Devin asked, taking stance behind Marc on his left side. Devin dangled the falls across Marc's back.

Marc's heart was pounding too fast to respond loudly, but he managed to squeak out, "Yes Master."

Devin raised the whip and brought it down with a thud across Marc's back.

As the whip connected, Marc breathed a sigh of relief; he barely felt it. Then suddenly it felt as though a swarm of bees stung his back. Marc let out a howl as Devin brought the whip down across his back from the other direction. Marc howled again, shifting side to side on the hook, as if trying to put out a fire.

"Stand still boy!" Devin barked landing the whip across Marc's right shoulder.

Marc was overwhelmed by the new sensation. It wasn't fiery pain, but it stung. It was something completely indescribable. Marc complied with Devin and attempted to stand as still as possible. Devin continued with the slow, methodical flogging. He landed the whip with precision, up and down Marc's back, and across his shoulders. He continued until he applied the first dozen. Marc's back was bright red, with a few barely visible welts starting to rise. His breathing was increased, and he was on the verge of an emotional release. Devin placed the whip on the bench.

Marc winced as Devin stepped up behind, pressing his defined chest against Marc's battered back. Devin reached around and began to roll his fingers around Marc's nipples. Devin leaned in close, his mouth against Marc's ear. He breathed heavily, the sound vibrating through Marc's head. He gently sucked on Marc's ear before speaking in a hard whisper.

"I hope each of these stripes reminds you that looking in people's windows is unacceptable. Can you feel them boy?" Devin pressed harder against Marc's back.

Marc let out a less than muffled grunt.

"That's it boy, let it out. When I want you muffled you will be gagged. Still got twelve more to go boy. Can you handle them?"

Marc took in a deep breath, Devin's grip felt so comforting. He could feel Devin's heart pounding in his back. It pounded almost as loudly as his own. Marc sniffled, and spoke.

"I am ready Master." Marc said softly.

Devin smiled, gently nibbled on Marc's ear and released his grip. Devin fetched the whip from the bench and took his place at Marc's side again. He allowed the falls to tease Marc's buttocks and thighs, but offered no massage warm up this time. Devin pulled back the whip and released it across Marc's right cheek. Marc jerked against the cuffs, and let out a mild whimper. Devin repeated the action to his left cheek, getting a similar response with a louder whimper. Devin applied quick lashes, one to Marc's right thigh, and then his left, causing Marc to howl out.

"That's it boy, release it!"

Devin returned to the slow methodical lashes up and down Marc's buttocks and thighs. Marc let out varying degrees of yelps and hollers, finally allowing the tears to flow on the final crack of the whip. Devin laid the whip on the bench and stood behind Marc. He ran his hands up and down Marc's freshly whipped body. The touch caused Marc to cry louder at first, but soon allowed him to calm down. Devin leaned in tight near Marc's ear.

"Tonight you learned a lesson in pain as punishment." Devin whispered, as he smacked Marc's left cheek, causing Marc to squirm. Devin reached up and unhooked Marc. He unlocked the handcuffs, and tossed them on the bench.

"Kneel down boy, kiss your Master's feet, and thank him for showing you the error of your ways."

Marc wiped away the tears and knelt down. He kissed both of Devin's feet, replying meekly, "Thank you, Master."

"Boy, if you want to experience pain as pleasure, the front door will be open at 2pm on the dot. I will lock it at precisely 2:01pm. If you wish to please your Master, you will let yourself in. If not, we will never speak of this again. Get your clothes boy, and go home. Think about what I said."

Marc paused briefly, surprised by his sudden dismissal. He started to stand up but remembered what he was told earlier and crawled out into the dining room. Every movement reinforced the whipping he had just received. Once at the table, Marc stood up and picked up his clothes. Since it was dark and he was spent, he opted to only slide on his underwear, wincing and moaning as the thin fabric aggravated his welting flesh. Marc slid on his shoes and walked through the living room. Once at the door, he paused momentarily, as if waiting for something, anything else. But Devin remained in the makeshift dungeon, out of sight. Marc opened the door and quickly headed home for the night.

As soon as he entered his house he collapsed face down on the sofa. He let the waves of discomfort wash over him, feeling in his mind every welt that he had. It was painful, but not overly so. He kept trying to figure out how he felt about Devin. When he thought about Devin speaking in his ear, nibbling, goose bumps broke out and traveled across his back. He immediately hardened when he thought back over the entire evening. It didn't take long for him to solve that problem, and once he was in his robe, he settled down gingerly at the computer. He was going to see if anyone was online tonight, someone he could talk to about his experience. He had until two the next day to decide if he was going to head back and experience more.

As he expected, neither Rolf nor Matthew were online. He hadn't wanted Rolf anyway, as he wasn't exactly sure what he'd make of it all, but Matthew would have been nice. No one else he cared about was online, so he started pulling up websites and began to read. Several times he had to close pages because of the severity of what was presented. He was unsure of the pain and pleasure thing, and if he ended up looking like some of the people in the pictures, he was going to stay home tomorrow.

Finally he gave up. He left the messenger connected and the speakers up loud in case anyone signed on, and went to make himself a sandwich and think more about his day. As Marc rifled through the fridge, he realized he wasn't all that hungry. He poured himself a glass of milk and grabbed a cookie. He nearly dropped the glass when the IM rang. He walked briskly to the computer and saw Matthew was connected. He sat down and typed.

RyberRooby: Up kind of late, aren't you?
TiggerMC: Hey, why I am NOT surprised to find you here?
RyberRooby: Where's the wolf, aren't you usually in bed at least an hour before the stroke of midnight?
TiggerMC: You are funny! Rolf wasn't feeling well after the game, so he went right up to bed...while I locked up.
RyberRooby: You are SO mean, making a sick man spank you.
TiggerMC: Well he won't HAVE to spank me, smartass, since he is deep in slumber.
RyberRooby: Yeah, until you climb into bed.
TiggerMC: So what did you do all night?
 Marc's heart raced, should he tell or not? He was bursting to tell someone.

RyberRooby: Watched my movies, what else?
TiggerMC: You lead such an exciting life, blondie!
RyberRooby: I STILL can't believe you talked me into that.
TiggerMC: I can't believe you listened. Shit! Wolf barks. Goodnight. :{)

Matthew disappeared as quickly as he arrived.

Marc sighed heavily. He wasn't sure if he was happy or not that he hadn't said anything. He sent a silent prayer out that Matthew wasn't in trouble, then got back up and grabbed his milk and cookie again.

He took a seat at the kitchen table and stared sightlessly at the fridge, going back over every detail of the last few hours. He STILL got shivers when he thought about Devin whispering huskily into his ear. Every line on his back where the whip had connected FELT. That's about all Marc could use to describe it. The sting was long gone and he couldn't exactly call it pain that he felt. Only when he sat quickly on a hard chair, or turned quickly and his clothes did it approach anything like pain. And even that had a slight appeal to him when connected with Devin's whisper. He decided there was nothing to do but go to bed.


Marc slept a restless sleep. It was uncomfortable lying on his back, and when he managed to do so in deep sleep, he was quickly woken. Even his deep sleep wasn't very deep. He closed his eyes and he could see, hear, and smell Devin. Marc slept in until nearly noon. There was no reason for him to get up early. Marc got out of bed and relieved himself. He walked past the window, tempted to peer out, but feared Devin was watching. He hadn't made up his mind about this afternoon but knew if he went he didn't want to do anything to piss Devin off. Marc walked downstairs and stepped onto the porch to retrieve the paper. He curled up on the couch and stared blankly at the front page. Soon half an hour had passed and he hadn't read a single line. Marc realized that it was pointless and put the paper down.

He decided to try a bagel for breakfast. He quickly toasted and buttered it, added the cream cheese and stood against the sink nibbling it. Eating only half, he tossed the rest in the sink and jumped when the clock chimed to announce one pm. Marc started to tremble gently, wondering what he should do. He decided that no matter what he did, a shower was in order. Heading upstairs to get undressed, he saw the collar and jockstrap on the dresser where he left them. Closing the door to expose the full-length door mirror hinged to it, he turned and dropped to robe, peering over his shoulder. The skin still appeared pink, but with the exception of a few minor markings his backside was normal. Marc headed for the shower, spending the better part of the next half hour soaking under the hot mist. He got out, toweled off and returned to the bedroom. He stood in front of the dresser and stared at the items. He closed his eyes and immediately saw Devin. The strong, well-defined chest glistening with sweat, his breath hot and heavy in his ears. Marc opened his eyes and knew he had his answer. He reached for the jockstrap and slid it on, the thin fabric caging his hard cock. He adjusted the elastic straps so they outlined his ass perfectly. He then grabbed the collar and placed it around his neck. Standing in front of his mirror, his heart started to race. Quickly turning to the closet, he pulled out a pair of jeans and t-shirt and put them on. He slid into his shoes without wasting time with socks.

Taking a deep breath, he walked downstairs and watched the clock until it read 1:58. He headed outside, locking the door behind him and sliding his keys into his pocket. He inhaled deeply, the fresh air wonderful. He slowly descended the stairs and walked with purpose next door. The house seemed miles away, yet was only a mere few feet. Walking up Devin's stairs, he got ready to knock before he remembered the door should be open. He twisted the knob and pushed open the door. His heart skipped several beats as he entered his Master's home. He immediately shut the door and pulled his shirt off, kicked off his shoes and slid out of his jeans, leaving everything neatly by the door. He then went to the center of the room and knelt down, placing his hands on his head.

He listened intently, trying to determine where Devin was. He hoped he didn't have long to wait; this sitting position was not one of the more comfortable ways to remain for very long.

A few moments later Devin descended the stairs, dressed as he was the night before. There was one difference in that he carried a leather crop with him. Marc shivered before dropping his eyes quickly.

"I knew you would return boy."

Marc swallowed quickly, unsure his voice still worked. "I am glad one of us had faith.....Master." Marc still had trouble with that word.

"How is your back today boy?"

"It is fine, Master."

Devin nodded then spoke again. "You may stand boy."

Marc did as requested, thankful he wasn't down there long.

"Let's not waste any time boy. I want to get you fully initiated today. Proceed up the stairs to the first door on the left."

Marc walked slowly past Devin and up the stairs. Devin followed three steps behind, watching Marc's ass wriggle in the jockstrap. Marc got to the top and entered the room on the left, unsure of what awaited him. He saw four little tables set up, all with various items on them. Devin stood behind Marc, gently taping him on the shoulder with the crop, gesturing for him to go in for a closer look. Some of the items were familiar, others weren't. Devin gave Marc time to peruse them but didn't allow him to touch anything.

On the first table there was a black satin-like blindfold, and what appeared to be a ball gag. On the second table, there was an unfamiliar chain attached to a ring and a can of what appeared to be whipped cream. On the third table there was another chain, this time with one clamp on each end, and a candle. Marc's eyes widened as he looked over to the fourth table. The whip was there that he'd felt yesterday, along with a large leather paddle, a metal grilling spatula, and a bedroom slipper. Once Devin was satisfied that Marc had viewed the tables long enough, he stood behind Marc and spoke.

"You will choose one item from each table and hand them to me, boy."

"What are some of these --"

Devin landed two quick smacks across Marc's ass with the crop. Marc's eyes widened and he went to quickly rub out the sting when he thought better of it.

"I don't believe this required any talking boy!"

"Yes, Master," Marc said, eyes burning with tears from the sharp sting of the crop.

Marc walked over to the first table. He didn't want that big orange ball in his mouth, so he chose the blindfold and handed it to Devin. He then walked over to table two. With no idea what that chain contraption was, he felt safe choosing the sweeter item, picking up the can and handing it to Devin. Marc walked over to the third table. He had a suspicion of what that chain was used for, even though he had never seen a nipple clamp up close. He instead chose the candle, thinking mood lighting was the best choice. Now it was to the fourth table with the spanking implements. He immediately eliminated the whip as last night was more than enough with that. Rolf had paddled him many times; he was sure leather and wood weren't that vastly different. He had witnessed one of the guys getting smacked with the spatula and didn't feel the need to experience that first hand. That only left the slipper and what harm could there be in that? Marc handed Devin the slipper.

Devin placed the items on a table next to the bed, satisfied that Marc had chosen exactly as he had expected.

"Fine choices boy. Fine choices. Lay down on the bed, on your back."

Marc walked over to the side of the bed, first sitting and then lying back. The gruff comforter irritated his back at first, but that was all but forgotten when Devin took hold of his right arm and secured it to the bedpost above him. He watched almost fearfully as Devin did the same with his left arm.

"Sit tight boy, I will return."

Marc watched as Devin exited the room. Once again he was vulnerable, with no clue as to what would happen and when, his heart rate quickening he waited for Devin's return. Marc started to harden as he felt almost sure that he was in for some sort of pleasure since he was lying on his back.

Marc didn't have to wait long for Devin. He returned with a bowl of water and what appeared to be a straight edge razor, setting them down on the table next to the other implements and turning to Marc. He placed his hands on Marc's jockstrap and pulled it down in one smooth motion, exposing Marc's now soft penis.

Marc's eyes followed Devin's every movement, interested and anxious having seen the razor. It wasn't until Devin started lathering up between his legs that Marc realized it was shaving cream and that Devin intended to shave him! He raised his head off the pillow and broke the silence. "You aren't"

Marc trailed off as he saw the change in Devin's face. He watched in some trepidation as Devin slowly toweled the shaving cream off his hands before picking up the crop again. Marc's stomach knotted as Devin placed the crop in the center of his chest.

Devin got Marc's eye contact and leaned in close. "Boy, you need to learn to do as you're told. There WILL be no talking unless I ask you a direct question, and boy, you WILL answer then and only then."

Marc started to respond when the crop was removed from his chest and crashed into the soft skin on the inside of his left thigh. He bit back the involuntary moan that arose.

"That was NOT a question to you boy! You do NOT speak until I ask you directly! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME BOY?" Devin spoke forcefully, but wasn't yelling.

Marc nodded quickly yes, then finally managed to get his mouth open. "Yyyyes, Master," he stammered, hoping that he was answering a question. Devin's commands and actions already had Marc's mind swirling and he was finding it extremely hard to concentrate.

"I don't expect to have to tell you again." Devin looked hard at Marc, who wisely kept his mouth shut. "Is that clear?"

Marc caught on. "Yes, Master," he said respectfully.

"Roll to the right, on your side."

Marc carefully raised his leg up and rolled gently on his side, wondering what was going to happen. He only had a second to wait before the crop was imprinted in his left cheek. He involuntarily kicked his leg and groaned quietly.

"Roll to the left, boy."

Marc grimaced and rolled onto his left side, and a second later gritted his teeth as the crop bit into his right cheek. He managed not cry out on that one.

"On your back, boy," Devin commanded.

Marc settled back down on his back, matching lines of fire on each cheek.

"That was punishment for talking. I don't expect to have to do that again."

Devin watched Marc's face, saw one tear slip out and slide onto the pillow. He leaned over and ever so gently wiped it away. He then bent farther over and kissed Marc's ear, before whispering "you're doing well, boy." He then gently nibbled the ear until Marc squirmed. He then stood up enough to admire the nipple standing erect from his ministrations to Marc's ear. His hand gently teased it, causing Marc to arch his back.

"Well, well, well. We'll have to think about those nipple clamps one day. I see you're quite turned on by this."

Marc squirmed a bit more.

"I'd suggest you stay still boy. You've made a mess of what I started, and you'll get the slipper for that later. Now.." Devin turned back to the table and picked up the blindfold, trailing it gently down Marc's chest and side, tickling him. "I think we'll put this on now, and see if that doesn't save you from further trouble."

Marc's eyes were locked onto the piece of material and he started to get really antsy. Devin watched him for a second, watching him struggle to control himself. Finally he let Marc off the hook.

"Go on boy, say it."

Marc was too wound up not to say it. "I'm scared."

Devin again caught and held Marc's attention. "You have nothing to be afraid of. You're not going to be injured here. That isn't what this is about. Trust. It's about trusting that I won't injure you, or take you beyond what you can handle. Ready to continue?"

Marc took a moment to digest that information. He looked deep into Devin's eyes, and decided he could trust him. He nodded.

"Then I want to hear 'Yes, Master.'"

"Yes, Master," Marc replied.

Devin leaned over and put the blindfold in place, tying it securely.

Marc watched as his world went dark. He had his eyes closed as Devin worked on securing the blindfold, but opened them when Devin's hands were removed. It was utterly and truly dark. His sense of sight gone, every sound seemed to reverberate through his head. Devin's touch burned more.

Marc listened intently as he heard Devin moving about. He then felt Devin sit on the bed again. A soft cloth swept roughly across his crotch. Devin must have been cleaning off the messed up shaving cream. Marc felt the bed shake vigorously, then heard the sound of shaving cream dispensing. The cold, thick cream once again made contact with his crotch. Devin roughly applied it in generous amounts. Marc felt the bed rise as Devin got up to get the basin of water. He heard the water splash and swirl about as Devin soaked the razor. Marc felt Devin place his hand on his slowly erecting cock, forcing it to point downward. He felt the heated steel beginning to slide down his crotch, slicing away his curly, dark pubes.

He kept waiting for a searing pain, certain that Devin was going to slip and cut him. His body remained tense, his breath held for what seemed like forever. The sounds around him seem amplified. When Devin rinsed the razor, Marc could hear the water swirling in the basin. When Devin was shaving, Marc was certain he could hear each hair as it was cut.

The feel of the cold cream, the warm razor, and Devin's hand's was almost more than Marc could stand. But coupled with those emotions was the slight edge of fear. Not being able to see, not knowing what was going on, not being allowed to talk. His senses were being stretched, leaving him with a stomach full of butterflies.

He lost all sense of time, and the shaving seemed at once to have taken forever and no time at all. He felt Devin get up, a cool breeze as he walked past him, then sounds of the water running in another room. He wished to feel where he was shaven, but his arms tied above his head prevented that. He shivered, then tensed, as he heard Devin return to the room. He strained to hear anything, just to know what was coming next.

Marc shuddered, then moaned quietly as Devin gently washed away the remaining shaving cream with a warm cloth. Marc longed for it's return when Devin was finished, the lack of warmth seeming colder still. He tensed again when something else cold teased his groin.

"Looks nice and soft, as a boy should," Devin said, gently teasing Marc's belly and groin with the crop.

Marc felt the crop glide over his smooth pubic area and balls. The gentle whisk of the leather felt good on the newly barren areas. Marc's cock slowly became erect from the wonderful sensation. Then the crop was gone, he heard a soft but firm smack, and suddenly a small fire lit in his cock and traveled through his body. Marc let out an involuntary whimper.

"Did I give you permission to get hard boy?" Devin asked.

Marc shook his head no, and muttered, "No Master."

"I didn't think so."

Marc heard and felt some movement on the bed. He braced himself for another smack of the crop, holding on tightly to his restraints. But instead of the wisp of leather, he felt something soft and moist, teasing his smooth balls. Marc quickly realized it was Devin's tongue, and goose bumps rose on his skin. Marc let out a soft moan of pleasure as Devin's tongue kicked past the balls to his hardening cock and that caused Devin to stop. He didn't speak, but Devin had no intention of allowing Marc to achieve too much pleasure just yet. Marc listened as Devin got off the bed and walked over to the bedside table. He heard a lighter being flicked, the sound echoing through his head. The candle was being lit. The flame barely burned the wick and Marc could already smell the soft vanilla scent. Devin knelt down on the bed, one leg on either side of Marc. Marc felt his soft leather pants resting on his smooth crotch. He then felt Devin's strong hands stroking his chest.

Devin rubbed firmly across Marc's chest, squeezing and gently pulling Marc's nipples. "I just love your nipples boy, they just beg to be tweaked and twisted," Devin said, doing just that.

Marc groaned softly at the rough touch. Devin continued those motions for a few minutes, but then stopped to reach across the table. Marc tensed slightly, change always making him wary. He felt Devin's hands run back and forth quickly across his chest, then the scent of vanilla became almost overpowering.

Suddenly, Marc twisted underneath the grip of Devin's legs as he felt a sharp, burning sensation on the soft, smooth skin of his right nipple. He let out a soft "aaaaahhhh" and then tensed again as the other nipple was treated to the same sensation. It took a moment for the fear to travel through his veins before he realized that Devin must have dripped the candle wax on him, as his nipples seemed to be extremely erect and tight. He then heard Devin inhale, then blow the candle out, the vanilla scent being replaced with the acrid smell of smoke.

The overpowering scents were quickly replaced with feelings as Devin began to peel off the wax. Marc could only squirm and moan, yelping once as some hair was removed with the wax. His head felt like it was literally spinning with the constant attention paid to his sensitive nipples. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before and he was certain more than once that he'd fold himself in two or his stomach would clench one final time and he'd never eat again.

When Devin had removed the wax, he rubbed the reddened skin, eliciting yet more moans from his next door neighbor. He admired Marc's lips, bite marks visible where Marc had been trying not to talk. Devin ran his finger gently over the lip, then across his cheek. Marc turned towards the touch, kissing the hand.

"Yes, boy, that's very good. Very good indeed. But we have a small matter to take care of before we continue with this."

Marc stiffened slightly as Devin's touch was removed and the bed rise as he got off. He heard footsteps go around the bed, then something being picked up off the table. The slipper. Marc had an insane urge to giggle, thinking of being spanked with a slipper, but he stopped himself as he was certain he'd get the crop for a display of disobedience such as that.

Marc felt the restraints on his right arm go slack. He gently pulled and found he had about six more inches of room to move. He could hear Devin walk around the bed, then the left arm was given about the same distance.

"Turn over boy," Devin said.

Marc slid up the bed a little, then worked hard to flip over. Not having the use of his hands made that a little harder than it seemed. After a few moments of struggling, Marc was lying on his stomach, his arms still above him and now crossed, but not uncomfortable. He wasn't sure in which position he felt more vulnerable in, on his back or on his front. But then he thought of the slipper, and decided lying this way was going to be a little less worrisome.

He waited, straining hard to hear what Devin was doing. When Devin's hands went between his legs, he sucked in a quick breath, but realized quickly that Devin was just pulling his legs a little farther apart.

"You don't move boy, or you'll get the crop. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master," Marc said quickly.

"Why are you going to be slippered, boy?"

Marc again had to fight back the urge to laugh. "Because I spoke out of turn, Master." He immediately felt the slipper connect with his right cheek. There wasn't pain, exactly. It was a slap, and had feeling, but absolutely NOTHING like a paddle would be. He thought he could handle it without a problem.

The slipper connected with his left cheek. Again, a soft slapping sound, a gentle tingle.

Then the right cheek. That tingled a bit more, but nothing bad.

Devin continued to bring the slipper down, alternating sides, in no particular pattern, so that Marc didn't know when, or where the next slap would land.

Marc's bottom was quickly heating up. Each individual slap of the slipper wasn't sharply painful, but the repeated slapping was building the heat and the sting up quite quickly, causing Marc to pull on his restraints and bite his lip again. He tried pressing his groin through the bed, to get away from the slipper, but it fell relentlessly. A few tears soaked into the blindfold, yet Marc kept himself from moaning. Just when he was ready to beg for a break, Marc heard what he took to be the slipper land on the table. He took a moment to catch his breath, flexing his buttocks to try cooling off the sting.

After wiggling about for a couple of minutes, clenching and tightening, Marc stopped. He realized that Devin wasn't standing directly beside him. He listened intently, trying to locate Devin. Marc heard a zipper lower at the foot of the bed. He blushed as he realized Devin had been in a prime position with all of the grinding, flexing and clenching. He then heard the rustling of someone taking their tight pants off. His heart started to pound faster. Then he heard footsteps as Devin made his way back to the side of the bed, and then felt the bed sink as Devin got on. Once again he straddled Marc, leaning forward and resting his moist chest on Marc's back. He then placed his jockstrap covered crotch on Marc's slippered bottom. He began to gyrate seductively as he put his mouth to Marc's ear. Marc began to quiver. Before Devin could speak his intentions, the doorbell rang.

"Fuck!" Devin spat as he leapt from the bed going to the window. "Tobias? What the 'ell does that fucker want?"

That was the first time Marc had heard Devin curse, and he said it with such attitude that Marc quivered even more.

"Stay put boy, I will return." Devin said.

Marc was in a very unenvious position. He was nude, blindfolded, handcuffed, spanked and suddenly very uncomfortable. His heart was pounding hard, ringing in his ears. His breathing was increased, making any eavesdropping near impossible. Suddenly he heard fragmented roars from Devin. The words "fucking slave" "whip" "cry" sent shockwaves through his body. They were met with mumbled responses, stinging smacks of flesh, and a cry that caused the color to drain from Marc's face. His stomach twisted into a large knot. Marc began to twist and pull against his restraints, trying to flip back over. It took several exhausting minutes but he managed to get on his back, flinching as the sheets made contact with his sore bottom. He was then able to remove the blindfold, thanks to the lead that Devin had given him earlier. It took a moment for his eyes to readjust and see that the sun was already starting to set. He heard increased whipping sounds coming from downstairs, followed by pitiful cries for mercy. Marc's head began to spin as he came off of his sexual high.


Marc took one last look in the mirror at his shaved and abused body and shook his head. He pulled on his robe and walked downstairs, rubbing his wrists along the way. Marc took hold of the television remote and turned to take a seat on the couch. He saw his answering machine flashing and realized he hadn't checked his messages. He pressed the play button and listened.

"Marc? Are you home? It's Matthew, pick up? Okay, call my cell when you get in."


"Marc, it's your mother. Why weren't you in church today? Call me when you get home. Love you."


"Marc?" That was followed by sounds of sniffling. "WHY aren't you home? I NEED you!" Marc could hear a deep intake of air. "It's Matthew again." Then the sounds of Matthew breaking into sobs. "It's Rolf, I am at the hospital, call m-"


Copyright Rolf and Gayspankee 2010

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Most of the artwork on the blog is by Canadian artist Steve Walker.

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