TITLE    : First Timer: The Aftermath
STORYID  : first-timer-the-aftermath
SUMMARY  : After the narrow belt, the aftermath.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2005-12-05
CATEGORY : bdsm-stories
FLAGS    : h
TAGS     : |belt|whip|cane|spanking|anal|spank|


Gary had taken his clothes off in front of another man. He'd allowed another man to spank him with his hand, to paddle him, and to beat his ass with two belts. He'd let another man turn his ass from pink to red to purple. He'd drunk another man's piss. He'd sucked another man's cock and swallowed his ejaculate. He'd allowed himself to be reduced to tears, humiliated beyond belief, and physically and emotionally abused. Why? What had possessed him to acquiesce to such maltreatment? More importantly, what was the matter with him that he'd permitted such mistreatment to begin with? Where was his self-respect, his self-esteem? No man who cared about himself would do the things he'd done.



Why had Gary?



He was submissive--but what did that mean? He liked to please. He hated to say no. He wanted to be popular. All his life, he'd wanted others to like and to accept him. He was acquiescent, compliant, obedient--in a word, submissive. Although these words defined him perfectly, Gary had long pretended otherwise, claiming that he was rebellious, insubordinate, resistant, and, if not dominant, assertive. His behavior today, in this motel room, with Russ, showed which of these two versions of himself was true. Gary was a wimp. He'd done everything that Russ had ordered him to do. He'd proven himself to be Russ' servant, Russ' slut, Russ' bitch. Although he'd tried to reject it, the truth was, as he'd found out, that he was a dependent personality, unable to think or feel or judge for himself. His sense of self, like his sense of self-worth, depended upon other people--people who were only too happy to use him for their own purposes and pleasures, as Russ had done and would continue to do, if Gary allowed it, which, of course, was so likely as to be a foregone conclusion.



It was said of actors and actresses in general that they lacked a true self. Therefore, they were able, as it were, to become any character. People with fully developed identities, it was said, had much more difficulty in pretending to be other individuals. Ray Bradbury had written a short story that seemed to support this idea. In his story, an extraterrestrial shape shifter took whatever form people wanted him to adopt, becoming a son to a childless couple, a brother to an only child, or a child who'd been slain in an accident. The problem for him was that everyone he met wanted him to be someone other than himself, and, in trying to please everyone at once, he overstressed his vital organs and died. The moral of the story was not lost on Gary, but he'd found a solution. Although a person couldn't please everyone, he could, at least sometimes, please one person. For the present--and, Gary hoped, from now on--this one person would be Russ. By satisfying and pleasing Russ, Gary could find acceptance, an identity, security, and, eventually, maybe even a semblance of love.



But there was another reason that Gary had allowed Russ to use him. Gary regarded himself as a loser. He was a nobody and a nothing. He was so worthless that he deserved to be punished, and, since he was infinitely unworthy, he deserved endless punishment, the crueler the better. Through suffering for others, he might, someday, become worthy by providing a worthwhile service, as had, for example, the whipping boys of the middle ages. It was unseemly that a prince should be spanked or beaten, for he was of royal blood. Therefore, when it was considered necessary that a wayward heir to the throne be disciplined for misbehavior, it was not his ass, but that of his stand-in, the whipping boy's, to be flogged. Gary saw himself as serving a like function for men who were, by virtue of their dominance and aggressiveness, his superiors.



By serving and servicing Russ' needs and desires, by fulfilling his every whim, Gary would be sacrificing himself in the interest of Russ' emotional and spiritual health and happiness. As a result, by making himself useful in this manner, his own otherwise miserable existence would become worthwhile; he would, over time, perhaps thereby redeem himself. That which was unworthy might become worthy. Of course, the spankings would continue, even when he had become worthy, for they alone, along with the other services, such as fellatio and his imbibing the golden nectar of Russ' bladder, would continue to make him worthy. Russ was providing an even greater service to Gary than Gary was providing for him, for it was Russ' use and abuse of him that bestowed upon the worthless Gary whatever worthiness he was thereby given and by Russ' use and abuse of him that Gary continued to maintain such worthiness.



These revelations did not come to Gary immediately. They were insights born of hours of reflection concerning why he took pleasure in being used by another man and why he felt joy at being abused by another man. However, once Gary had attained this wisdom, all the many spankings he'd received during the set that Russ had bestowed upon him during their first session had been well worth it. Now, for the first time in his life, thanks to the help of his mentor, Gary had come to understand who he was and why he was as he was. A great, perplexing mystery had been resolved, and the pieces of his personality had, as it were, come together, completing a whole of his fractured psyche. By the stripes that Russ had inflicted upon Gary's satin-smooth buttocks, Russ had healed him. He had made Gary whole.



By their fourth session, Gary understood these facts, intuitively if not yet completely consciously, and, when Russ demanded that Gary submit to the receipt of anal intercourse, Gary willingly acquiesced to being penetrated in this manner by his mentor's rigid cock, just as Russ had earlier predicted to himself that Gary would do.



Gary positioned himself on his elbows and knees atop the bed, with Russ behind him. The mattress dipped and swayed as Russ, also on his knees, positioned himself between Gary's widespread legs. Then, Gary felt a thickness between his buttocks, followed by a firm pressure against his anus. The pressure increased, and Gary's asshole began to spread. His ass' sphincter opened, and Russ' ramrod-stiff cock shoved deep into Gary's rectum.



Gary's asshole fluttered frantically about Russ' invading member. Russ' prick remained lodged inside Gary's asshole, and Russ felt the ring of muscle grip and squeeze his penis repeatedly, seemingly frantically. Russ waited until the spasms of Gary's anus subsided. Then, he drew his hips back, tugging his thick, hard cock back through Gary's asshole until only the glans remained within Gary's anus. After a few moments' pause, Russ plunged his cock back through Gary's asshole, again sending his erect organ deep into Gary's bowel.



Gary frowned, grimacing. He'd never had a prick up his ass, and the feeling of having his behind crammed full of cock was both exciting and uncomfortable, both in the physical and the emotional sense. In having drunk Russ' piss and sucked his cock, Gary had demonstrated his submissiveness, but, in being fucked in his ass, he was being unmanned. He was losing his masculinity. He could no longer think of himself as virile. He was just a slut, just a bitch, just a whore. Part of him cringed at what was happening to him--at what he was allowing to happen to him--but another, larger part of him wanted to be fucked in the ass.



Russ jerked his organ back down Gary's bowel and slammed it home again, driving it deep into the tender, soft tunnel of Gary's rectum. As he continued to fuck Gary, increasing both the force and the intensity of his thrusts with each renewed assault on Gary's bottom, Russ thought of how his prick would look sliding back and forth inside Gary's ass, as viewed from various angles. From beneath and slightly behind them, a viewer could see Russ' pumping ass; his cock, extending straight out in front of him, but half buried inside Gary's ass; and Gary's own prick, jutting straight out from his balls, just before the short stretch of Gary's perineum, which separated cock from cock.



Seen from a slightly different perspective--below and slightly in front of them--the focus would be upon Gary's erection and balls before following the upward curving perineum to Russ' penis, jammed through the lower cheeks of Gary's ass.



If one were located behind them both, such an observer might see nothing of Russ but his lower buttocks and his balls, shoved as far into Gary's bottom as possible, Russ' dick completely lost to view inside Gary's ass, and Gary's erect cock pointing down between his full, dangling balls.



Other angles would reveal other sides of their cocks, balls, buttocks, and legs, showing, for example, Russ crouched over Gary, almost standing, his hands clutching the top edge of the bed's headboard, his ass atop Gary's ass; his legs, bent at the knees, with his thighs and calves straddling Gary's upper legs; his balls filling the cleavage at the lower halves of Gary's impaled buttocks; Gary's semi-erect cock and loose balls pointing between Gary's thighs.



Yet another view of the couple might show Gary's face close up, his brow furrowed in a frown, his eyes pleading, the tip of his tongue, pink and moist, protruding from the corner of his mouth, his ass, seen from above, a tight Valentine-shaped heart split from behind by Russ' erection, perhaps with Russ' hands resting upon the sides of Gary's impaled buttocks.



To Russ, the sexiest thing about anal intercourse was the juxtaposition of two thick, hard cocks, one buried inside a man's firm, tight ass, the other pointed forward or upward, useless and redundant. Seeing a cock wedged tightly inside a guy's asshole while the skewered partner's own cock dangled uselessly between his thighs, possibly having spewed its seed, was one of the most beautiful sights that Russ had ever seen or wanted to see and, thinking about this vision now, as he fucked Gary's ass, kept Russ' cock thick and hard.



Russ slammed into Gary's ass, flattening his cheeks before each assault. As Russ withdrew his penis, preparing to launch it again into Gary's depths, Gary's buttocks bounced back to their normal fullness. Russ' penis vanished through the wide-stretched anus of Gary's ass, deep into Gary's rectum, and then, slowly, reemerged to strike again. The constant ramming of his ass brought Gary to orgasm, and his prick spurted semen onto his stomach, pubes, and thighs. Great gobs of the thick, white fluid were splattered everywhere across his chest and thighs. It also ran in thick white ribbons down his erection. Light shone upon the semen streamers; they looked like melted pearls.



Russ threw back his head, shutting his eyes tightly, and gasped as an intense orgasm swept over and through him. He seemed to be spurting out through his convulsing cock, along with his thick, warm seed. Jet after jet of his viscid, white seed spewed from his lurching straining cock, flooding Gary's ass. Russ jerked his hips backward, removing his still-erupting prick from Gary's gaping, semen-smeared asshole, and Russ' sperm continued to splash and splatter Gary's ass, branding him, as it were, with the very essence of Russ' virility and manhood.



Russ, spent and exhausted, fell forward, collapsing atop Gary, and Gary felt his weight upon him, felt Russ' heart beating between his shoulder blades, felt Russ' hot breath upon his neck, felt Russ' dwindling cock loll against the backs of his semen-smeared thighs.



After it was over, Russ drove Gary home.



Russ held up his cell phone. "When I call you, be ready," he commanded.



"I will," Gary promised. He started to open the door and exit Russ' car, but Russ caught his arm. Gary turned toward him, a quizzical look on his face.



"I own you," Russ said. "you're nothing without me."



Gary nodded. "I know."



"You may go--until I call."



"Yes, sir."



Gary got out of the car, and Russ drove off, without saying goodbye or glancing back. He drove to his own home, went to his basement, and nailed two more pegs into the wall among those upon which paddles, whips, and various other spanking implements hung.



This pair of pegs would support the bamboo cane that Russ would next use on Gary's poor ass. A cane was the cruelest implement of all. Its every lash would leave an agonizing gash behind that swept a debilitating fiery pain throughout Gary's ass, bowels, groin, and belly.



Russ would give Gary a week off, a week to heal, and then, with the bruises and lacerations on Gary's ass faded to scars, Russ would make a telephone call. Gary would be ready; he would answer the summons; he would come. Then, the cane would earn its place among the other instruments in Russ' collection, and Russ would place it there, with reverence and care, upon the pair of pegs he'd just installed for that very purpose, at which time, Russ' collection would finally be complete. 

