By Bikermike

The e mail just contained a set of instructions. They were unambiguous and described everything James had to do upon arriving at his new master’s house, situated in an isolated spot out in the Fens near Bourne, Lincolnshire.

James had chatted to the guy on Recon only once, so a part of him was a bit worried that his new master might be dangerous, might rob him or might permanently harm him in some way. On the other hand, he felt that fizz of sexual excitement that he always felt when he was about to have some BDSM fun with a new man. Judging by the number of friends this new guy seemed to have on Recon, his assessment was that he would be okay, at least as far as his own safety was concerned. His profile did not contain any photographs and stated that he was forty eight years old, some fifteen years older than James.

They had not discussed anything about the type of play James could expect, but whatever it was it would be entirely safe and would not involve any risk of sexual transmitted disease. However, it would prove to be painful.

The instructions said:

Arrive at 1400 on Saturday. Do not be any more than 5 minutes early but on no account arrive late. This is to be the time as announced on your smartphone, which of course will be British Summer Time.

Enter the barn situated to the rear of the house and strip completely.

Fasten your ankles in the steel spreader bar that will be lying on the floor.

Assume a kneeling position with your head down.

Remain in that position and await my arrival.

Under no circumstances speak unless I give you permission.

James decided to take the bike. It was some sixty miles distant and the weather was warm but not too sunny, in fact, ideal motorbiking conditions. He dressed in his usual black two piece leather suit, donned his white AlpineStar boots and matt black Shoei helmet. Admiring himself in the mirror, he looked every bit the “Black Knight”, which formed part of the name he gave himself on his Recon profile.

He loved the feel of his tight leather jacket next to his bare skin, especially on hot summer days. This enabled his gym fit muscular body to absorb the aroma of tanned bike leather, which he found really sexy, as did many other guys. Accordingly, he wore only the most ridiculously small briefs under the protective leather garments and no T shirt.

The journey took some ninety minutes and he arrived outside the gate some ten minutes early. He checked the time on his phone and decided to wait, sitting astride his Fireblade until five minutes had elapsed. He would then start the bike and ride it the fifty yards or so along the private drive to the side of the house. By then the sun had come out so he sat, cooking inside his leathers, the inside of which had become damp with his perspiration.

Five minutes was up so he parked the bike outside the side door of the house. Walking round the back he found the barn on the other side of the concrete yard. It looked forbidding with heavy barn doors that were open, ominously ajar.

Upon entering he nearly tripped over the ankle spreader bar in the poor light that found its way in through a skylight in the roof. Looking around he noticed chains of varying lengths hanging from crossbeams, racks of heavy looking shackles and fetters and other instruments of punishment and torture. Most were of leather or rubber but some looked more sophisticated, consisting of metal electrodes and terminals connected by wires. He again felt the excitement building up.

He stripped as per the instructions, and fastened himself into the steel ankle shackles that made his legs form a right angle to each other. He then knelt down on the rough concrete floor and with his head looking down, waited. And waited, and waited.

Had he been tricked? Was this guy a murdering psychopath he wondered? Anyway it was too late now: here he was, naked and shackled with no means of escape, entirely at Master’s mercy.

About half an hour had elapsed then the barn door creaked open. James instinctively looked up to see his Master, dressed in black Doc Marten boots, leather jeans and wearing a leather body harness over his broad hairy chest. He had what James would describe a rugby player’s build; not fat but by no means slim. He looked formidable, resembling a medieval torturer, with a full black beard. His arms were heavily tattooed, with celtic and dragom motifs.

‘Rule broken boy! You were told to look down!’ Master said menacingly but quietly.

‘Sorry Sir!’ James replied.

‘Fucking hell! Rules broken again! I don’t recall giving you permission to speak, boy! That will certainly not go unpunished!’

Wisely, James said not another word and continued looking down at the floor, and down at his penis, now fully erect.

Master walked over to the kneeling James and said ‘Lick my boots boy!’ He obeyed instantly and assumed an all fours position and commenced licking the tops of each boot in turn, working his tongue over and up the lace holes. ‘Work your way up my leather jeans!’ James ran his tongue up the inside of the right leg then the left. By then Master had unzipped the fly and pulled out his penis, erect and already dripping precum. ‘Now take my cock boy!’ James’ tongue worked from its base, up to the head. He licked round and round the base of his glans, his tongue sometimes venturing up and round his piss slit. ‘Aaah! take it all down, slave!’ Master purred. ‘Wait! I need to take full control!’ With that he roughly pushed James’ head away. ‘I’m going to secure you in solid wrist and neck irons, boy. That way I can fuck your mouth as and when and as fast and as deep down your throat as I like. Now fucking stand up!’ James obeyed and stood to attention while his tormentor fetched the heavy looking restraint from a hook on the wall.

James had been in these contraptions before and thoroughly loved the sensation. His cock now stood achingly erect and it too dripped pre-ejaculate.

Master then produced a tight rubber band from his pocket and fitted it round the neck of James’ scrotum. He winced in pleasure/pain as the band snapped home.

Now fixed in the rigid shackle Master ordered him to kneel once again. With each hand on either side of James’ shackle he forced his mouth over his rock hard erection. In and out, in and out he thrust, while holding James’ head securely by means of the shackle. Master delivered a kick to James’ vulnerable hanging balls causing him to grunt in pain. ‘Ah! You like that boy?’ Jeered Master. James grunted an answer (his mouth was full of cock) that Master took to be affirmative. He delivered another kick, his shining boots connecting once more with the constricted balls. This time James let out a stifled scream. Master responded by kicking again and again, again, a bit harder this time. With his victim writhing in agony as far as his grip on the shackles would allow, he orgasmed with a roar sending his sperm down James’ throat. He pushed James away leaving him whimpering sprawled on the barn floor.

‘Did you enjoy that, slaveboy? I did!’ declared the Master, zipping up his fly. ‘Now I have another treat for you, and for me, of course!’ He dragged James to his feet and indicated to a position just under one of the chains hanging from the rafters, the end of which seemed to hang a foot or so above his head. ‘Get over there!’ He ordered.

James shuffled as best he could while wearing the ankle spreader bar over to the area Master had indicated. ‘Stand still!’ barked Master, who walked over to the hooks on the wall and selected a pair of toothed nipple clamps, connected to one another by a thin chain. James gasped as Master fixed the clamps to his nipples. He then produced a long plastic cable tie, looped it over the nipple clamp chain and passed it through the bottom link of the hanging chain. Clipping the ends of the plastic cable tie together he said ‘I would suggest you stand on tiptoe, boy,’ as he slowly pulled the plastic tie tighter and tighter. James grunted and gasped as his clamped tits were pulled higher and higher until he was indeed standing on tiptoe as high as he possibly could. ‘Now the fun bit!’ said Master as he fetched a long handled device from the hooks on the wall. ‘This is a cattle prod, boy. As you can see it has terminals on the end and delivers quite a belt. see?’ He touched the terminals against James’ taut abdominals. He screamed and jerked, ripping his nipples out of their clamps. ‘What do you think boy? Like it?’

‘Agh! No Sir!’ gasped James, as Master re-applied the clamps to his victim’s sore tits, this time at right angles.

‘You mean fucking YES SIR!’ Master exclaimed angrily as he launched his fist into James’ abdomen. He screamed once again, nearly losing his balance. ‘I can see that you’ll scream like a fucking whimp, boy,’ he went on, ‘It’s the ball gag for you!’

Master fixed the gag into his victim’s mouth, securing it in place by means of a rubber band fastened around the back of his head. ‘Now the prod again! On your thighs for now, slave!’ He walked round and round James, now and again zapping his thigh muscles when he was least expecting the sensation. He danced and writhed in pain, gasping and giving muffled yells, being careful not to rip his nipples from their clamps. Master then grinned, holding the terminals of the cattle prod a few inches away from James’ balls, still constricted by the elastic band. ‘You want this, slave?’ Grinned Master as he readied his fist for another lunge at his prisoner’s abdominal muscles.

‘Uggh! Uggh!’ grunted James, nodding his head. Crack! The prod sparked in contact with his testicles. Crack! crack! Again and again, with him writhing and bucking in pure agony, unable to resist, save ripping his nipples from their clamps, which he knew would be even more agonising.

Seeming to tire of this, Master replaced the cattle prod and this time selected a thin but flat wooden paddle. he aimed it at James’ balls and said ‘Hah! You liked this before, boy! Enjoy it once again!’ With that he slapped the low hanging testicles repeatedly. Again, James bucked, writhed and grunted as Master delivered blow after blow. However, his cock remained rock hard and dripping pre-ejaculate, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Master. He removed James’ ball gag and squeezed a few drops of precum from his hard cock and offered his wet finger up to his victim’s mouth. He licked the wet finger greedily.

‘You are now about to get the wank of your life, boy, ‘ said the Master as he dropped the wooden paddle, ‘And you will eat your own spunk. Quite a humiliating experience, don’t you agree, slave?’

‘Yes, Master; it’s nothing less that I deserve!’ Replied James.

‘Good boy!’ grinned Master as with one hand he yanked down hard on the constricted balls while with the other worked James’ cock up and down in a twisting motion. With him still shackled, ankle, neck and wrist, in rigid steel and with his nipples still painfully secured in their clamps fixed to a chain from the rafters, he let the endorphin rush add to the fantastic plesure of his brutal wanking. Up and down, up and down Master’s hand worked, faster and faster, one finger working his moist cockhead, harder and harder….

James exploded sending a volcano of sperm up and over Master’s wanking hand. He then tormented him more by rubbing his post-ejaculate cockhead over and over before offering his wet hands up to James’ mouth. ‘Lick them clean, slave!’ He commanded. James obeyed and hung there, spent and exhausted.

Master released James’ nipples from the clamps, causing him to scream as he roughly massaged his excruciatingly sore tits.

‘Fuck, boy; you’ve got me hard again! You will suck me off then I’ll release you so you can fuck off. Okay?’

‘Yes Master!’

‘Kneel again at my feet, slave!’ Said Master as he once again unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock. James got into position and took the rock hard cock down his throat. Once again, Master worked his hips in and out, keeping a firm hold of James’ solid neck and wrist shackles.

It took much longer for the him to come the second time. He did so with another roar while slapping James across the face again and again. James tasted semen for the third time that afternoon.

‘Phew! Good boy!’ He exclaimed as he withdrew, putting his penis away. he then released James from his solid irons, neck and wrists first then ankles and helped him to his feet. He removed the tight band from the neck of his testicles then offered him a drink of water, which he readily accepted, gulping it down on one go.

‘I enjoyed that, Sir,’ said James as he pulled on his bike leathers. ‘Any chance of my coming back?’

‘You were a tough cookie, boy! I could see that you didn’t require the use of a stopword; that’s why I gagged you. Most of my other subs fail after a few minutes, then I tell them to fuck off, not to return. Therefore you’ve passed the test. You’re welcome to return then we can have some real fun! Today was just a mild warm up! What do you say?’

James’ reply was affirmative. Master said that he could come back in a fortnight.

Sitting astride his bike on the way back, James wondered what “fun” would be had next time. With that thought in mind he could feel the tell-tale hardening in his groin, constricted as it was by the tight bike leathers, which guaranteed a good hot wank once he got home.

The End

Metal would like to thank Bikermike for this story!