By A Lost Boy

With a staggered click, followed by an unmistaken chug of heavy machinery, I was torn away from slumber. My crusted eyelids batted, once, twice, three times before withdrawing into my skull, overwhelmed in the midst of the fluorescent light which liberated me from darkness.

We weren’t to be alone that evening. There was far too many footsteps to follow a single person. When the concept of company presented itself, I’d compensate by puffing out my chest, and shuffling as much as the shackles would permit. I’m not at all sure why that was, it’s not as if I was going anywhere.

The draft surging inward annunciated that merciless cold which was the concrete beneath my feet. It was as though I could only feel, function and exist in the presence of others. A sheet of cigar smoke draped itself over my shoulders, forcing my nostrils to stretch out at fresh air, and then some, upon the failed attempt to gasp through the gag.

A sputtering mess to say the very least. The irony that I cast the greatest shadow you can imagine upon the garage door that stood before me was not lost on me whatsoever.

It wasn’t too long before our gracious Host broke through into the ring of light that held me at attention, and began to swarm. He loomed over me whilst he switched from guy next door, to the cunning, embodiment of mischief we seen before us.

Between the sequential clip-clopping of his heels against the ground was a symphony of whispers. the atmosphere of the room, electric with anticipation, first timers, chasers and the like, commanded the energy of the room. Although I could see very little. Nothing at all, to be frank.

For a mere moment it was as if Master & I were all that ever were, and ever will be. That was, until a wad of hundred dollar bills was slid into circle… and another, and another, thicker & more dense every time.

What a turn out, I thought. There was already a CEO’s salary at my feet.

“You’ll have to forgive the mess, gentlemen,” Master mocked at me, joining the splatters of dirt & grime in abundance on my body with his crop. He wasn’t wrong. The amount of time I’d been down here had escaped me – but lets just say I required a good soak in the tub… those who favoured humiliation made themselves known with obnoxious cackling.

Master turned up his nose up as he drew in ever closer, a pendulum the way he carried himself – left to right he swayed, until he honed himself in to the centre of the blaring spotlight above. These auctions would typically be broadcast on one of those members only, cult-like cam shows. Thus I was unable to see him behind that disturbing masquerade mask. But I knew it was he, with the burning eyes of a Panther.

He dragged his crop through the grooves in my abdomen, before drawing a line between the nipples. He rubbed at the outer pink of them like an eraser; what little innocence remained, fleeting. My fingertips further slid into their indentations left upon the leather, encasing the arms of my chair.

The Master cleared out his throat, cutting the air with his crop as he rushed it at my chin. I mumbled my gratitude onto him like I always did. An applause saturated the room, followed by further offerings; tributes for some sort of bound deity.

Master captured the air as he knelt at my side, resting his weight on one knee and proceeded to moisten his thumb in his mouth. Not taking his eyes away from mine, he smeared it across my brow and tsk’d. “Dirty pig, am I right fellas?” He swung around, performing toward the room. His exclamations were met with cheers, and further applause.

Much like the core of a hornets nest, the volume of the room could only accumulate as time went on. More of them arrived, of which I could not see. I became slightly more unnerved than I had done in previous events. And that was prior to the exchange of what had declined into petty cash, coin, clattering at me from all sides like Friday afternoon traffic. The rif raff… Master had let just about anyone in that evening. The burning of reef reiterated that fact.

“What is it’s origin?” The Darkness enquired at Master collectively, to which my Master replied abrupt: “I believe IT used to be my only daughter’s husband, ain’t that right?” Sir hissed down at me, before wrenching my chin up toward him. “Ain’t that right?” He echoed, to which I nodded, reserved.

Master returned to me a slap so coordinated and ferocious, that nodules of spit had found themselves escaping from around the sides of the ball jammed in my mouth as my head jerked the opposite way.

“YES, SIR!” I urged through the gag.

“What was that?” He mocked, and so I pushed out the ball with the tip of my tongue until I was just about able to jam my teeth shut, enough space to form a desired response. “YES, SIR,” I croaked.

At that moment, more coin had shuttled between my feet. I could have sworn I even heard plastic slapping against the floor.

“The creature we see before us, is your son in law?” The Darkness further enquired, it was as though the spotlight contracted, ever so. They tried to muddy their concern with intrigue and wonder… although I ‘seen’ right through them, after all, they were human just as you & I in their day to day lives, with families & careers, and dogs… it was only here could they truly let go, and relinquish themselves, primordial once again.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, have I ever given you any reason to doubt-can I possibly disappoint?” Master continued to strut, ricocheting off the perimeter of the ring. He gestured around the room, the Ringleader of a Circus. “Have I not delivered to you every single flavour of former man your heart desires,” He positioned himself just behind me, landing one hand on my shoulder. “Rein in your anxieties my good men, the Slave is exactly where he wants to be.”

There was muttering amongst the shadows, in inner council but I was able to quell their woes with a series of vigorous jerks & nods. “MHM,” I insisted. And it was the truth. My Master & former father in law had stumbled upon me in the midst of an indiscretion one evening and that was that. I adored my wife, and I was able to maintain, and even sustain a marriage with her if I continued to honour our deal.

It seemed as though only yesterday Marshall had invited me over to the family home for a stern discussion. The memory of utter, undiluted trepidation crushing my throat inwards was all too familiar, should I have paced that hallway outside the study anymore than I had, I’d find myself in a shallow grave.

Marshall did not induce fear, himself, it was the fear of the losing my beloved. Had I not have provided the essential response, he’d surely have told her before I could have ever mustered the courage. The essential response, you wonder? A good old fashioned begging. I even played on his inclination to men.

… it worked like a magic charm, albeit, not in the way I’d quite anticipated.

You might think him a demon, but you are wrong. When he broke down the arrangement for me, he made it crystal clear that I had the choice to walk away. Furthermore he would be unable to promise that my secret was safe should life with his daughter continue.

The alternative… I agreed to, almost immediately. The relief, the sense of security was the purest of bliss. Whenever the band-my band, was to be “on the road” I would serve my Master at his lake house. In exchange, I was able to continue to live my life the way I wanted, without destroying my marriage. I’d been provided an opportunity to absolve myself of any guilt.

The ins and outs of my tale, and contract had been distributed around the room by the time I’d finished wrapping up the inner monologue. Master even had my profile printed at the discretion of the attendees. The audience curiosity, further sated.

To their delight, the evening was able to proceed…

“Can you cut him out of those jeans?” The voices unified. “How much for a shaved head?” It continued. A stern gulp attempted to pass under my collar. The shaggy bed head of hair I carried was my thing. Something I had no choice to forfeit considering the circumstance. I was to collect myself… that was merely the beginning.

By the time my mop of hair had lined the floor, I’d already been dressed with suds, hosed off and stripped down to my trunks. I was mercilessly flogged for the next hour or so, to the brink of drawn blood, but not quite.

Master gave me one final bout with the nine tails before withholding the last lash over his shoulder. I shuddered in my chair, and between every quiver I straightened up. I was to put on a show, and a show they’d very well have.

Perhaps you think me deluded, but my hair stood on end at the thought of redeeming myself. It drove me through every moment, and as Master rubbed himself whilst he inflicted, I felt a sense of pride. You see, he & I were-are close… in a sense. It was as though my love for her had been compartmentalised, and another me lived on during the time spent with Master – a me which could enjoy the company of other men. Something unfathomable should you have known me, only a year prior.

Marshall’s face that evening is burned into my memories. His bug-eyes and jittering bottom lip, the sincerity in his expression as he poured me a bourbon and looked back up at me. He was almost pleading, please don’t leave our family, please don’t leave my daughter… please don’t leave me.

I know it makes little sense, couldn’t he forgo my mistake if he treasured me so? But I understood, his loyalties were unwavering, and without resolve he himself would share my guilt.

For a mere moment, Marshall’s forlorn expression had returned as he gazed in awe at my own resolve. I’d somehow cultivated dignity & grace during that moment, despite the current predicament. Perhaps it was the smouldering embers that were my eyes or the way my ribs ebbed & flowed as I breathed.

And then without warning, and so swiftly that he daren’t compromise his former demeanour, he gestured back toward the crowd.

“Gentlemen, I believe that is the end of the first half of tonight’s festivities, we’ll pick up where we left off in half an hour,” Master said with faux-emphisis. Our eyes were at odds with one other, a celestial duel above the eyes of men. “Please, indulge yourself in libations by the Christmas tree in our living area, and should you by chance stumble on any of our other slaves I’d ask you kindly to refrain from interactions as they belong to my husband.”

I could hear the majority of the crowd funnel it’s way out into the rest of the house, although a fair amount remained. Master stood me up from my seat and manoeuvred me onto the floor – the clinking of my rusted, iron shackles, almost festive.

I was commanded onto my knees with my back to him, and I was to put my head down, pressing my right cheek against the concrete whilst sticking my ass in the air.

Things had become rather hazy in that moment, and I could hear the blood sailing in & out the vessels in my ear. My nerves, ravaging every inch of my body.

Because of how I’d been positioned I could see only a brick wall, granting much to be desired in my peripheral. I grew so distracted by the glorious iced concrete against my cheek that the insertion of a familiar device came as more of a surprise than usual. I squirmed as my sphincter clenched around the tip of a steel rod and cursed into my gag as it slid down toward the base.

Master jerked the rod upward, nudging my prostate ever so slightly causing me to gargle, and whimper with delight before withdrawing the entire thing out of nowhere. “There really isn’t much to see at this time, Sirs, if you’d like to take yourself upstairs for now,”  Master reiterated to several, lingering guests.

“Are you certain…” The shadows slavered, I could hear the rubbing together of someone’s palms, heavy breathing and the unbuckling of belts.

“Suit yourself,” Master said out of character before proceeding to penetrate my hole once again. I could hear him get up from his seat he’d arranged at my ass and head over to the far wall… the creek of a faucet as it turned and the gushing of relentless streams.

I winced as I felt the icy fluids overwhelm my insides to capacity. I proceeded to gargle another moan in the back of my throat, causing Master to chuckle as he returned to me. He gave my arse a slap, warning me to hold it whilst he slid out. And so I did.

Upon hearing him sit back in his seat I knew to get myself up and purge myself at the drains. Afterward I lent myself a moment, just a moment to myself to gather my bearings before being tutted at. To which I returned to my former position.

Master began to administer a vast amount of lotion onto my hole, dipping his finger in at regular intervals. Much to my protest I could feel myself begin to widen, I reiterated my confusion with another whimper. I could feel my body fight the instinct to relax to no avail.

“That’s it boy, daddy’s ‘other’ special cream… how does that feel boy?” He punctuated himself with a thick slap onto my ass. I mumbled my concerns at him causing more laughter. “It compels your hole to dilate & loosen, don’t fight it.”

Fight? What fight? One second I felt the tip of that enormous glass plug Master likes to use, tracing what had been rendered a cunt, the second, my ass was snatching it from Master’s grasp. My insides adjusted their shape accordingly and cushioned neatly around the object.

“Nice,” He dragged out, amidst a gulp, for even he had grown overstimulated. He proceeded to take a razor dryly around the plug and down my dangling balls before Clipping the humbler onto them. I could hear our guests diffuse into the area once again.

The Master stood over me, wielding the crop. He stroked my now vulnerable sack, cupping them with the flap. Sir continued down to the soles of my feet, tracing the bow, into the arch and around the balls. He struck like lightening, you could hear the jolt… followed by murmur.

“Let’s us begin round 2,”

 

Metal would like to thank A Lost Boy for this story!