Nate – Part 05

By slavebladeboi

Mike held the crop with two hands and stood back from the fuck bench. The three deep red lines it had just made on Nate’s ass stood out against the pale-pink skin that covered the rest of the boy’s rear end. He was quite surprised that, so far, Nate had chewed down hard on the gag and not made more than a fast exhalation of breath when the crop had bitten into him. Mike was also aware that he was using the length of the riding crop more as a cane than simply smacking Nate with the leather tip, increasing the pain somewhat, to make sure Nate understood the difference between punishment and an erotic beating. Seven more to go.

Stepping back into position, Mike raised his arm once more. There wasn’t any perceptible swishing sound cutting through the air as he very forcefully brought it down, and Nate suddenly jerked forward in his bonds as it landed. His head jolted against the collar, and this time he made a throaty yell through the gag, pulling at the cuffs that were fastened around his wrists.

Mike didn’t pause for long between strokes, maybe two or three seconds, so number five fell almost directly after number four, this time with a louder muffled yell together with a spray of drool and the sound of rattling steel as Nate’s wrists again tugged at the cuffs. Nate was audibly panting. His eyes were screwed tight. Mike knew he needed to make a point but was also aware of not pushing Nate too far too soon. He continued with the thrashing, using slightly less force, but still hard enough to produce a fine set of ten red welts across the tight, up to now pristine, perfect boy ass.

After ten he again stood back from the bench and stepped around to where Nate’s head was held down tightly by the leather collar tied to the lower bars of the bench. Nate was red faced, and the effects of holding his breath, as some sort of personal fight against the crop, were evident from his heavy breathing and perspiring forehead. He was staring and drooling into the padded leather of the bench top.

Mike said nothing. He placed the crop over Nate’s shoulder blades and went to lean against the far wall. Arms folded in front of him, one leg raised with his foot against the wall, he waited. Nate remained still. Mike could hear him breathing heavily and continued to wait until it slowed to a more normal pace. Several minutes passed before he approached the prone boy. He bent down so their faces were level with each other. Nate looked up as far as he could. “Thmmmpyorssr,” he mumbled with his mouth full of rubber. Mike stood and unbuckled the gag, easing it out of Nate’s mouth. “Thank you, Sir, for teaching me that lesson,” Nate managed to say, after manipulating his jaw a bit.

Mike remained nonchalant. He didn’t smile, but Nate could see he wasn’t cross either. “That’s OK, boy,” Mike replied, “as long as it made my point. I doubt if I’ll be as soft on you next time.” He reached out for the crop and went to put it back on the other side of the room from where it came. Returning to Nate, he said, “I think we could both do with a break and a snack.” He walked away, took the key from his pocket, unlocked the padlock, and left. Nate heard the door close and keys turn in the locks. He wondered how long it would be before he was released from the bench; although it wasn’t a difficult position his arms were aching and his cock, still erect, was constantly rubbing against the end of the bench with every small movement he was capable of. He thought that, being alone, he might be able to rub himself against the leathery end but managed so little in any direction he gave up. He sighed, closed his eyes and waited. It seemed he was waiting a lot today.

Fifteen minutes or so later Nate heard the keys in the locks, and Mike returned. Nate couldn’t see anything that wasn’t in front of him so had no idea what was going on behind him. After a few seconds Mike returned to the head end of the bench. He knelt, untied Nate’s collar fastening and told him to kneel up. Nate found this difficult with his arms cuffed behind him, so Mike gave him a hand. “Keep still while I unlock your cuffs,” said Mike, which he did. What Nate didn’t expect was to then have both wrists cuffed again in front. “You’ll be able to eat like that, boy, just keep your back straight, you don’t look good slouching.” He walked back to the door and picked up a tray which he brought over and placed on the top of the bench. “I made us some sandwiches and there’s more of the drink,” he said. “We’ll eat properly later this evening, if you want to stay, that is.”

Nate looked somewhat surprised. He wasn’t sure whether he should say thank you or not. Would he outstay his welcome if he didn’t go home before evening? It was all a bit confusing for him. Mike seemed to understand what was going through Nate’s mind, so he continued to say, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy what I have planned, and there’s no rush to get back to an empty house, is there?” He then smiled.

“No, Sir, I’m fine about it if you are,” said Nate. He was going to say thank you again but changed his mind and said, “I’m grateful for the lunch, Sir,” instead. He hoped that that would solve the problem of too many “thank you’s” and seem polite at the same time. Mike grinned. Nate was thinking, not just opening his mouth, which was exactly what Mike had hoped for. He wanted to give the boy another hug, instead he pushed the plate of sandwiches and a refilled bottle of his juice to where Nate’s cuffed hands could reach them. They both ate in silence, Nate not knowing quite what to say and Mike happy to sit on the floor, his back to the bench.


After a while Mike sprang up and stood next to his boy. “Bit of quiet time now,” he said. “You do know what predicament bondage is, don’t you,” more of a statement than a question, “because that’s what you’re going to get now.”

Nate affirmed he had seen some on the net but hadn’t ever experienced anything like it. “That’s fine, boy, you wanted some bondage, and this will give you a chance to find out what it really is.”

“Really is, Sir?” asked Nate, puzzled. “I’m not quite with you, Sir.”

“You’ve heard that old saying, boy, that bondage isn’t bondage until you want out, haven’t you,” Another statement. “Well, I intend you at least to dip your toes into that one. Now lean forward again.” Nate did as he was told, and Mike unstrapped his legs from the side arms of the bench. “Stand up, boy, it’s time for the ball weights to come off.”

“Thank you, Sir,” said Nate a bit tentatively, again in case there were too many ‘thank yous’ going around. Mike expertly unwrapped Nate’s ball sack, which was a deep pink and hanging rather lower than Mike had seen it before. He then reached for the key to the handcuffs and unlocked them. “OK, boy. See that gym mat over to the side there, go and pull it into the centre of the room.” Nate struggled a bit. The mat was six or seven feet square and seemed to be a heavy foam covered in a shiny black neoprene type material. Once it was pulled into position Mike got Nate to stand in the centre of it. He didn’t say much apart from giving a few instructions.

“Lie face down, boy, arms by your side.”

Mike got to work with some lengths of rope and long lengths of leather straps. Once Nate was face down Mike fingered under his crotch and pulled the boy’s cock out from under him so it was pointing down his legs. He found it semi erect and Nate hmmmph’d as Mike manhandled it round. A few gentle rubs from Mike and it was a bit more than half erect. Mike then knelt with his knees on either side of Nate’s body. He fastened the leather cuffs to Nate’s wrists again and padlocked them together. Once that was done he moved up Nate’s arms, binding them as he went with a length of leather strap until he got above Nate’s elbows, carefully pulling them together until Nate was starting to bend his body off the mat to relieve the pressure. Mike felt Nate’s wrists and found a strong pulse so there was no problem of blood flow. Standing up, Mike then locked Nate’s ankles together with some more leather cuffs.  Pulling his legs apart, he positioned a spreader bar between Nate’s knees, clicking the locking device at the widest he thought Nate could take. With a strap fixed round each of Nate’s thighs immediately above his knees, he clipped the spreader bar to the straps. There was no noise from the mat, Nate was breathing heavily again but didn’t appear to be in any kind of distress, yet. Taking a length of rope, Mike made a couple of loops through the large D ring in the centre of the ankle restraints and brought the two ends up to Nate’s wrists.

“Bend your legs up, boy, as far as you can,” Mike said. Nate did as he was instructed and then felt Mike tug even harder. The rope then went through a link on the wrist restraint connector. Another hard tug, and Nate’s shoulders were lifted off the mat.

Mike stopped. “Is that uncomfortable, boy?” he asked.

“Um, a bit, Sir,” answered Nate with a grimace. He wasn’t going to flake out and admit defeat now.

“Good,” said Mike as he gave the rope another short tug.

“Ummmph,” came from the mat.

“How about now?” asked Mike again.

“Yes, Sir,” shot back Nate, breathing deeply. “It’s uncomfortable now.”

Mike smiled, gave the rope a jerk and tied it off. Nate was now in a good tight hogtie. But Mike wasn’t finished. Using a short piece of rope, he tied the back of the collar Nate still wore to the strapping on his biceps, not tight enough to restrict his breathing but enough to stop him dropping his head forward. A couple of seconds was all it took for Mike to grab a gag off the shelf, this time a rubber covered ring gag. Nate wasn’t at all sure about this, but after some persuasion in the form of Mike holding the boy’s nose and pulling his head up, it was placed behind his teeth and strapped securely to the back of his head. That wasn’t coming out in a hurry. The last item he added was a blindfold. “Don’t go anywhere, boy,” chuckled Mike as he left the room. He knew that was a cheesy quip to make but it amused him all the same.

Nate started to panic, breathing fast and hard. He was unable to struggle physically, but mentally he was in turmoil. His spit was dribbling over the gag and onto his chin, some of it pooling onto his raised chest. He made noises through the ring but couldn’t make himself cry out the safe word. He was, after all, safe, it was simply that every muscle in his body was on fire. He had to push through this pain, which was already becoming torture for him. He remained as still as he could for as long as he could but the pain in his shoulders and the black void in front of his eyes seemed to deepen with every passing second. The torture continued.

It could only have been fifteen minutes so far and he was sure he would fail this test. How long would Mike leave him here? He pulled at his bonds, but every movement, however slight, pulled at another muscle group somewhere else, which increased their torment. The pure blackness, that was all he could see, amplified his misery.

Discomfort had gradually turned to agony in his shoulders. He tried to make himself relax. Relax? What was he thinking? His head swam. He felt waves of pain in his arms, in his shoulders and legs. His jaw was beginning to cramp. Nowhere in his body felt relaxed. He was grateful the mat supported him well, that, at least, was not uncomfortable.

He felt every breath he made, pulling air deep into his body, holding it and exhaling slowly. He controlled this carefully, in, out, in, out, making desperate efforts to ignore the agonising torment in his muscles, willing his consciousness to ignore the burn.

He kept the rhythm of his breathing slow, fiercely focussing on this. Gradually he became aware of the centre core of his body floating somewhere above the strain of the rope and leather. He imagined he was watching the hogtie from the outside of his body. This feeling, prompted by his endorphin rush, washed over him and he swam with the flow. For how long?

He suddenly felt the cold sweat on his upper lip. It prickled on his skin. The mat was cold if he moved, warm and wet where he was resting on it. The experience was becoming too much. He sagged as much as he could in his position, having long given up any pretence of enjoyment.

He didn’t hear the door open nor the footsteps that ended next to him. But he did feel the shock of something as it touched his now rather limp cock. It buzzed and vibrated and threw him into a frenzy of erotic surprise. The vibrations stayed steady, sending waves of gut-filling pleasure through him.

Mike held the vibrator against Nate’s now engorged cock; he moved it slowly along the length of his meat without saying a word. Nate squirmed, his sweaty body sliding perceptibly over the black neoprene surface as he forced himself to roll from side to side. The pleasure grew to a peak. Mike lifted the wand, Nate groaned in expectancy, Mike replaced the vibrator, Nate groaned even louder. It was clear Nate didn’t have much left in him. Mike held the wand, resting gently on Nate’s hard, red, pulsing cock, until, with a monumental burst of expelled breath, the boy yelled loudly to the accompanying spray of spunk that shot across the black surface as Nate pumped out his load.

He hung limply in his bonds. He left his pain behind and merely lay there, only vaguely aware of the straps and ropes being slowly untied, only briefly feeling the odd stab of pain as his limbs were carefully laid back, flat onto the cushioned mat. Mike reached into his mouth and removed the rubber covered ring holding it open. Nate grimaced and coughed. Neither of them spoke. Using some muscle rub that smelled strongly of cloves and camphor, Mike massaged life back into Nate’s arms and legs, pushing his hands into the small of the boy’s back and making him groan in delight rather than pain. The bond was once again human rather than of ropes and leather.

“How are you feeling, boy?” Mike asked him. “You were there for fifty minutes, which, for a beginner, I thought was plenty.”

Nate smiled and began to raise himself up to a sitting position. “Go easy,” suggested Mike, “no rush.” Nate continued to sit without speaking. “OK?” Mike added.

After working his jaw for a bit, Nate found his voice. “Fuck, that was hard. I’m not sure I was prepared for that,” he said.

“Too much?” questioned Mike.

“At the time, yes Sir, I think it was. Now that it’s finished, and I’m glad it’s over, I’m glad it was hard, and I’m glad I made it without crying off.” He avoided looking at Mike and stared down at the floor.”

“Nate?” Mike wondered if something was wrong.

“I did feel alone though.”

“You were never alone, Nate,” said Mike gently. Nate quickly looked up at him. “Yes, I know,” continued Mike, “I said no names in here, but I think we’re done for the day, don’t you?” He went on. “There are three cameras covering this room. I watched you every second, so I might have been downstairs in my office but I was with you visually. I could sense your mental changes, all your small movements, hear your initial struggles and then all the time when you seemed to space out. You were like that for nearly thirty minutes. It was when you came out of it that I decided enough was enough. Do you understand a bit more about bondage now?”

“I understand it can be tough,” answered Nate, “but the feeling I had when it ended was the absolute best. I felt so, I dunno, as if I’d achieved something, some goal I was seeking.”

“And now you want more?” queried Mike.

Nate laughed. “Not yet,” he said. “I want to get over this first. But you’re right Si…Mike,” he hesitated if not sure, but Mike just smiled. “You’re right, it’s a great feeling you gave me, especially at the end.” They both laughed at that. “And, yes, I think I would love to try other types of bondage and positions, that is if you help me through them.”

“My pleasure,” Mike said back with a smile, “but now down to the gym and get dressed. I’ve left a sweatshirt down there for you. It may be a bit big, but no one’s looking. Then we’ll eat supper. My cooking! So, leave anything and it’s another hogtie for you, boy!” Nate grinned, leapt up and went to dress.

Mike looked after him and began to wonder.  Had he started something more than he first intentioned?

To be continued …

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