By slavebladeboi

He had volunteered. He had specifically asked for no safe words. He wanted to be mine with no exceptions. We had discussed things till the early hours on several occasions but now he was mine, to train in any way I liked. We both wanted this more than anything else, to be Master and slave. To be joined by the strength of knowing just that. And now it was happening. There was no going back.

Dressing in the cosy warmth and comfort of my bedroom it was difficult to imagine just how different the scene two storeys beneath me was. I laced the elegant long black leather boots carefully and tied them with neat knots at the knee. The skin tight trousers fitted me perfectly, the extra expense of made to measure had been worth every penny. Slipping into them and feeling their soft yet restricting presence around my body never failed to create the first stirrings of what I knew from my past experience would be a large and long lasting erection. I drew the zip up carefully, feeling the once living fabric enclosing me in a wonderfully glossy black cocoon, the growing bulge in the leather at the crotch showed clearly the position of the shaft of my already semi erect cock. I never wore anything beneath the leather, preferring the wonderfully erotic feel of the taut polished black hide directly on my body.

I zipped myself into the tailored leather vest and pulled the three buckles of the wide belt into the second holes, feeling the heavy grade saddle leather close reassuringly tight about my waist, like the strong arm of an enthusiastic lover. I drew on the leather gloves, working my fingers right to the ends, admiring the look and fit.  Picking up the executioner’s mask from the dressing table I laced it tightly about my head, positioning it so that the eye slits fitted in exactly the correct position. It was a very sexy item indeed, offering just a hint of the aura that epitomised the acts that were to follow.

The exquisite smell of the freshly tanned leather filled my head, it was the final piece of the uniform that had effectively changed me in ten minutes from an ordinary guy who you would pass on the street without so much as a second glance into something totally different – A Master with the ability to take that man who cowered far below to a hell that could be understood only by those who have been subject to the perverse insistent will of a true Master. One committed to having his own way, regardless of the wishes of his slave.

I picked up the bullwhip from the bed and examined the four feet of plaited black leather. It was an exceptionally fine piece of craftsmanship, designed and constructed with just one purpose in mind, to inflict unimaginable pain on the body of a bound and defenceless human being. I felt my heart begin to race with excitement as I held the weapon in my gloved right hand, knowing that the time would soon come when I would hear the air split apart by the long cruelly crafted leather tail, followed by the sound of its impact on human flesh. Depending upon whether I had decided to silence my victim with one of the many effective gags I possessed the dungeon would either reverberate to his screams or merely echo softly to his strangled protest, as with everything the choice was mine, and mine alone.

I imagined his growing perceptions as I unbolted the heavy timber door that led on to the dungeon steps. He would hear the bar drawn back, quickly followed by the menacing sound of my boots as I descended. The sound of each step would enter his head, the threat of violence mounting as they moved closer towards their intended victim. I stood at the base of the steps for a moment, feeling the cooler air down here beneath the house and savouring my absolute and unbridled power that now fuelled my lust to the extent that the front of my trousers now harboured a massive bulge.

There was the merest hint of mustiness rising from the slightly damp and uneven stones that formed the floor to the rectangular room, giving the game away that this was indeed a subterranean chamber, chosen deliberately for the fact that no sound could permeate either in or out. The flagstones shimmered with a patina imparted by three centuries, and there at the far end my prize knelt, his body already contained and restricted by my cruel bonds.

The steel collar that was bolted about his neck was a genuine antique. The three inch wide band of cold metal that was now locked firmly into place was in fact a punishment collar that had been used centuries before to break the will of recalcitrant prisoners by their cruel jailers. It forced him to raise his chin when he stood but I had fixed a short length of steel chain to the hasp with the other end anchored firmly to the iron ring that was bolted into the stone floor, thereby ensuring that his head was kept in a desperately uncomfortable position, his face almost touching the ground.

To heighten his feelings of discomfort I had the previous night locked his shaved genitals inside an incredible device that was designed with the sole intention of giving a Master complete and utter command of his slave that wore it. Unlike the collar this was a creation of the twenty first century.

It basically consisted of a heavy gauge chromium steel ring that closed around his balls, being locked into place with the turn of an allen key. Once so confined the ring was itself locked into place in the centre of a steel spreader bar. At either end this bar was fitted wide, heavy grade leather straps with double buckles that served to secure it  about either ankle. His entire arms, almost to the shoulders were fitted into a single armed leather glove that laced and strapped them together behind him. A steel hook between the wrists was raised high behind his back and had been fixed onto a steel anchor point that was set deep into one of the beams that formed the dungeon ceiling.

This configuration effectively prevented him from achieving any degree of relief as he was forced to raise his toes from the floor to try to alleviate the pull on his balls that were drawn horribly tight by the steel ring. The bar was designed to be just that bit too short and the result was a very effective torture device that I knew would have him groaning with pain, a sound that was, in my opinion, completely without equal in terms of erotic effect.

I had indeed fitted the dungeon wall with a very sensitive microphone that relayed and amplified any sound and enabled me to listen to anything that happened down there. I had not been disappointed at all in this respect as his cries and whimpers had been transmitted up to my room throughout the night, allowing me to monitor his psychological decline as the torture wore him down and broke him over the period that he had been confined in this manner.

Today I was quite prepared for a lengthy session. I was well aware that this early period was crucial in terms of what I hoped to achieve, which was to turn this recently free man into an utterly docile slave who would act with instant and unquestioning obedience to any order that his Master saw fit to issue. It was an aim that I believed would hold the key to my permanent sexual satisfaction – in short he was to be turned into my sex slave.

A great deal of careful thought and consideration had gone into this initial period between the capture of my potential slave and the beginning of this training. I had read several reports on the psychological preparation of prisoners. It seemed to me that what all the conclusions led to was that this period was the most important in achieving my aim.

Sensory Deprivation was considered a most important aspect, so I had ensured that during the time in the dungeon my slave had been well hooded. The padded leather hood that he wore prevented him from seeing anything whatsoever, not even the slightest glimmer of light would penetrate. In my experiment I did however have a weapon not available to those who had conducted official research. The severe bondage ensured that constant pain was added immeasurably to the formula.

I knew that he would by now be completely disorientated and consequently much less able to resist being moulded into the helpless being that I desired as his owner and Master. My boot heels echoed as I walked slowly and deliberately towards him along the full length of the dungeon. Eventually I stood over him, looking down on his pinioned body, now wracked by the pain of having been bound into a most unnatural position for a period of twelve hours.

I felt not the slightest hint of pity for his desperate situation, merely the sexual excitement of being the one who had done this to him. I drew back a boot and aimed a hard kick at his ribs. There was a whooshing sound as the impact of the boot emptied his lungs. His entire body rocked from side to side but of course the leather and steel bondage did its job as his arms remained strapped together inside the cruel device that suspended them from the ceiling. I stood immediately before him and stooped forward to unclip the detachable leather blindfold from the front of his mask, allowing my polished black leather boots to fill his sightline.

I pushed a boot toe beneath his face and said “Lick Master’s boot slave”. Obediently his tongue extended from the lower slit and he strained to caress the gleaming black leather. I laughed a little as he tried to obey but was hampered by the manner in which he had been tied. That had been exactly my intention in tying him that way. I revelled in his submission to his Master.”Do it more thoroughly boi” I commanded imperiously. He sobbed softly as tried to reach the boot that I kept quite deliberately almost out of his reach, my cock hardening still further inside my leathers.

“Master intends to give you an important first lesson in obedience boi” His body shuddered perceptibly at my words “Please Master don’t hurt me..I will do as you say”. I laughed briefly “Oh yes, you will do as I say alright, but this little lesson I am going to give you will ensure that you remember the importance of doing just that”. I took the leather straps of a head harness and buckled them into place around his head, slipping the hard rubber mouthpiece between his teeth, tightening the straps so that it was pulled deep inside his mouth, allowing no more than a strangled gurgle to escape.

I walked around the boi’s well built and thoroughly bound body, checking that there was no possible room for movement in any of his bonds. I ran my leather gloved hand across the smooth pale globes of his arse and stood behind him, my long booted legs spread for stability. I drew the bullwhip back behind my right shoulder and brought it round in a wide, sizzling arc. The tail cracked as it made contact with his right buttock, Immediately a wild red weal was raised diagonally across it, quickly darkening to blue-black as the flesh bruised beneath the surface. His body jerked as the pain hit his brain and a surprising amount of noise escaped the gag. Immediately I drew back the whip and landed a second stroke neatly beside the first, followed by a third and a fourth, all good hard impacts that I knew would increase his pain. I ran the tail of the whip over a white cloth. Sure enough the crimson streaks appeared showing that the whip had done its work breaking his skin, my slave had undergone his baptism.

Moving back in front of him I stood with my boots beneath his face to allow him to make the connection between those boots, which it would become his duty to keep immaculately polished without so much as a single speck of dust on their gleaming black surface, and his Master who he know knew was quite capable of inflicting the kind of pain that he barely thought existed before today.

Of course if he considered four lashes of the whip was all he was going to get then he really was in for a great surprise. I next selected the dragon cane from the rack on the wall. His arse was nicely positioned for me to take full advantage of this weapon. I placed the tip of the polished wood shaft at a point lower on his right buttock than where the whip had landed, steadied myself as I lifted the cane and brought it down to impact hard just above where the buttock joined the thigh. The effect was electrifying, his body pulling sharply against every point of bondage and shaking with the effect of the cane. Once again a stifled scream escaped the gag before he collapsed against the chains that supported his bound body. I felt my cock jump with excitement as the white tramlines that showed the site of impact quickly turned colour, filling with dark colour .My excitement raised by the dramatic effect of the dragon cane’s impact I steadied myself, placing my boots a little further apart and proceeded to set up a rhythmic caning session. I counted slowly..one..two..three..four..five. On each count of five the cane whistled down to land across the boi’s arse. Each stroke ploughed his tortured flesh more than the previous one. I gave him perhaps twenty strokes. Each one seemed to produce slightly less effect than the one before, in terms of his reaction. For the last five he merely hung in his bonds, resigned to his fate, slight sobs escaping now and then from beneath the gag.

I placed the cane down and unchained his collar from the floor ring, his eyes briefly making contact with mine. I attached the collar to a ceiling point so that his mouth was now at crotch height. Replacing the solid gag with a piss gag that kept his mouth wide open I unzipped my trousers and took out the thick, heavily veined shaft of my shaved cock, fully erect and streaked with pre cum. I rammed it to the back of his throat, hearing him gurgle pathetically as the thick meat of my shaft gagged him most effectively. He began to make choking noises. Fortunately for him his breathing is a major priority for me and I proceeded to fuck his mouth enthusiastically but carefully, my shaft reaming down into his throat with long, slow strokes. By now I was quite hot with the session and close to orgasm. My leather clad hips bucked to and fro as I found the tightness of his throat clamped around my cock. Quite suddenly the dungeon reverberated with a loud scream as the first bolt of thick, warm creamy cum hit the boi’s throat, trickling to his belly like a hot white river. I held him for long enough for every last drop to drain into him, then pulled the collar back down and re bolted it to the floor ring, it would be a few hours before I needed him again…

 

Metal would like to thank slavebladeboi for this story!