With My Master Baytor 02

With my Master Baytor 02

The week passed slowly, but Thursday came at last. I would meet Dr. Thierry that evening and, if all went well, begin to work with him. I still had no real idea of what I hoped to learn or gain. All I knew was that I was a chronic masturbator - addicted to that practice, if I was honest - who mostly enjoyed his solo sex life, but hoped to make it less monotonously habitual and more creatively interesting, if possible.

I was in my late twenties, at that point. I had just passed my 28^th birthday several weeks ago. After more than a decade of casual experience with girls, a few older women and some attractive men, and after encountering the concept of 'autosexuality' on a Web page several years ago, I had decided that this cap fit me, and that I should learn to wear it. I liked other people as friends and as sexual partners too, sometimes. But I had learned that pleasuring them and taking pleasure from them was more difficult and, on the whole, less satisfying than pleasuring myself.

Part of my problem (if it was one) with partnered sex was the worrying about what would and would not be acceptable. These negotiations of intimacy tended to kill its spontaneity. As for love, in my mind and makeup, it occupied a different compartment - quite apart from sex. I had loved my parents, before they were murdered by terrorists in India who had planted a bomb on their tourist bus. I loved my older sister and the twin nieces that she and her husband had given me. I got along well with my brother-in-law when they had me visit. I had felt a kind of love for a few teachers and several close friends. But sex was no part of any of these relationships, while the friendship and liking that I shared wih a few of my sex partners was not to be confused with love. As I was at that time, sex was not about love, but about using and being used for pleasure. I had learned to use my own body that way - and also the bodies of attractive women and men. I enjoyed giving myself for their use. But this had no connection at all with love as I had learned it it in my family. I knew that sexual love, erotic love, meant more to many others than it did to me, but had no sense that I was missing something. On the contrary, for me, the freedom gained in using sex just for its own sake more than made up for the lack of real depth in any of my sexual connections.

However, I did sometimes Rosie Palm and her five daughters a tad monotonous, and a long time fantasy of mine had been to caught, called to account and disciplined for incorrigible masturbation. All this had been in my mind when I filled out Dr. Thierry's questionnaire and wrote a few paragraphs on what I wanted from his mentoring. And it was in my mind when I used the brass knocker on his front door, wrought to resemble a strong male hand spanking a plump bottom of ambiguous gender. The door opened and I found myself standing before a distinguished-looking man in his early sixties who smiled a welcome. When I opened my mouth to introduce myself, he interrupted me. "You must be Dan Jacobson," he said; and when I nodded, and said 'Yes, sir,' he invited me to come in.

Standing in his large living room, I looked around uncertainly, noticing especially the large, upholstered armchair with a small rug placed before it, a flogging pony in one corner of the room with implements of bondage and corporal punishment arranged decoratively on one wall, and a beautifully executed oil painting of a twinky youth on his knees, masturbating avidly with his eyes closed and a strange expression on his face as he were in pain. Under it, someone had painted on the wall, "A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste!" in a handsome calligraphic font.

For a short while neither of us spoke. Then Thierry said, "I can see you're wondering what the protocol is. It's just casual for now. We're new acquaintances and equals until that changes. You've just met me and I've not accepted you as a client yet. Nor have you accepted me as your mentor. So we'll just talk, get to know each other a little and see what happens. Please sit down, and make yourself comfortable." He gestured to another chair, off to one side of his, placed for easy conversation."

He continued, "I'll start by saying that I've gone through the questionnaire and the application letter you sent me. So I know much more about you than you know about me - which gives me too big an advantage. You must have lots of questions about me and what we might do together. Why don't you start by asking them, and I'll promise to answer as fully and frankly as I can."

"Well... If you invite my questions - Who are you sir, and how did you become a masturbation 'coach,' if that is the right word? A mentor of self-pleasuring?"

"I'm sure Peter told you some of it - that I'm a retired professor of sexology and a still-active sex counsellor?"

"I gather the sex counselling is what you were advertising in the ad I saw. Do you deal only with masturbation or with other sexual activities too?"

"I deal with all types of sex - but masturbation is a specialty. It's really the core of sex when you get right down to it. For the male of the species, all sexual activities are masturbatory in the last reckoning, whether it's a toy or another person or our hands that we use to get ourselves off. Women know, and many enjoy that their bodies are being used for that purpose, though they are often ambivalent on the subject."

"It's more complicated because men can be fuckees as well as fuckers - passive as well as active participants in a sexual act - but purposed arousal is what it's all about, whether you're working yourself or someone else, or be worked by another."

"For women too, although their sexuality continues on after mating into lactation, nursing and childcare, ultimately their sex life too is about the pleasure and the transmutation of pain into pleasure. And about putting themselves out like flowers to attract sexual interest.

This was becoming too deep for me, and I changed the subject. "Peter said that he was once your graduate student, and then your private pupil; that the formal relationship is over, but that you still see him from time to time."

"Yes, that's right. At his store, he helps me out (as he did with you); and he still visits me to play and talk."

"By the way, I liked that you were calling me 'sir' without my telling you. Please don't stop. I was enjoying it."

"Yes, sir. In brief, sir, can you describe what it is you teach? As your pupil, what can I expect to learn? How does masturbation become a teachable skill?"

"That's an impossible question, I'm afraid. I don't know what you will learn. That will depend on you more than on me. I can only describe what I offer. What desire from me and what you make of what I can give will be up to you."

"I don't like to speak of 'masturbation.' It's a pejorative word, employed to make acts of self-pleasuring seem ugly, or sinful. What I teach is auto-eroticism and self-love, both for its own sake, and as an entry point to love with others. Some of it is specifically sexual - focused on the genitals and leading to orgasm. Some of it is more sensual than sexy - concerned with finding, or giving yourself and then receiving physical pleasure - not just through touch, but all the body's senses. Some of it is quite abstract - cognitive, intellectual, spiritual - religious, even. My pupils come to me thinking about their sex organs. Eventually, they go their own way - or, like Peter, stick around as friends."

"What do you mean by 'spiritual,' sir? I'm not religious. I don't believe in God. Does that disqualify me as your pupil?"

"I don't believe either, Daniel. Not in the sense most people mean. I use 'God' as a short, convenient word for the over-arching context of Life (in general), and of one's own life, as it is. God in that sense is not something that you 'believe in.' It's something that you can try to understand. It's something you can love. It's a short word for the focus of your own spiritual life, whatever that is."

"Doesn't have a lot to do with jerking off, does it sir?"

"More than most people think," he answered sharply. I think the gutter language is crude, but it doesn't scare me. Auto-erotic sex can be an entry point, first to pleasure but then to love and wisdom. As a young male of the species, you have a needy cock. Part of its function is to give you pleasure; but pleasure is, or can be, the beginning of love. And love is the way to knowledge and wisdom - 'the astrolabe of God' as a Persian poet wrote."

"How often do you 'jerk off'?"

I felt my face turning pink, not expecting to get to this point so quickly with this imposing elderly man. "It depends, sir. If I'm occupied with something else, maybe once or twice a day. When I'm bored, I've been known to do it five or six times. As many times as I can."

"How do you do it? What positions to you use? Do you strip completely, or just drop your pants and briefs? And how do you arouse yourself? What do you think about?"

"Sometimes I do it lying in bed, sir. Then, I'm usually nude. Other times, in an armchair or on the john, I just drop my pants. I also like to wank standing or kneeling in front of a mirror so I can watch myself. To work myself up, or just relax, I use porn - videos sometimes, but I prefer stories."

"OK. Good. What kind of stories? What are your favourite fantasies?"

"Well, as I think I wrote for you, sir, the situation I'm in now, is one of my favourites. Being held accountable for my masturbatory practices by a strict authority figure - a mentor like you, sir, or a disciplinary governess. Being spanked or flogged sometimes - for masturbating, sir, or for doing it and cumming without permission. That's why I answered your ad, sir. That's why I'm here."

"Fair enough. I can work with that fantasy, use it to play with you. But where do you hope to go with it? In your training with me,what do you hope to accomplish?"

"I want my climaxes to be more be intense, sir, and I want my sex life as a whole to feel more meaningful. I realize that this may mean having fewer orgasms - having them in a more disciplined way, and only with permission.

"As I think I've already said, I'm not interested in chastity for its own sake, sir, but I'd be thankful for the discipline of a respected keyholder who helps me keep my sexual urges channelled to the service of meaning and deep pleasure - not just impulse and stress relief."

"I do have one more question, sir, before we go any further. You told me on the phone that your fee would be quite reasonable, as our work would be for your pleasure as well as mine. And Peter said as much at the store. I think that's great, sir, but I'd like to know, what do you get from your mentoring relationships? What's in them for you?"

"That's a difficult question, Dan. I'll give you an honest answer, but I'm afraid it may put you off. If it does, too bad."

"The fact is that teaching is a kink like any other - or a fetish, in other words. Real teachers - people who really have the teacher's itch, who don't just do it for a paycheck or as a duty in doing research - are turned on by a kind of sex or love-making with other people's minds."

"Mindfucking, sir?"

"That puts it brutally, but yes. Mindfucking. The best sex I get is from playing with other people's heads. With their ideas, desires and emotions. Ethically, I hope - for their benefit and pleasure as well as mine, and always with their consent. Have you heard the Delphic maxim "Know thyself?"

"It's an injunction from Socrates, isn't it?"

"It in the Socratic dialogues, yes, but it's older than Plato and Socrates. It was carved into the marble of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi, and has been given many interpretations from that time to our own. Along with the commandment to know your own mind and soul, I choose to give it a sexual interpretation in line with the carnal knowledge referenced in the Bible. When we wank, we know ourselves sexually. We can use this activity as a gateway to self-knowledge in its other meaning also."

"That is what I teach, and I take pleasure doing it. Socrates supposedly learned about love from a woman named Diotima. If you stick around, you will learn love from me, and I will enjoy teaching you - on a sexual level, among others."

"Teaching is a D/s relationship, isn't it? Domination and submission. I imagine you enjoy the power trip, and your pupils' obedience."

"That's part of it, yes, but only part. There's much more that you'll find as we go along."

"But I gather that you like the submissive role. You're here accepting, practically begging, to be caged and spanked. That means we have the basis for a relationship: a place to start, at least."

"Would you like to wank for me now? Let me see your stuff?"

"Oh, yes sir! I'd have a stiffie now, sir, except the cage won't let me."

"You have the key with you, don't you? Unlock yourself and put the chain back around your neck. I'll take it when we conclude this interview."

"Very good, sir. Does that mean you're accepting me as a pupil?"

"We'll talk about that later, after I watch you wank."

"For now, I want you to strip, fold your clothes neatly, and put them in the corner over there. Take your cage off and put it with them. Then, as you prefer, stand or kneel or lie on this rug in front of me, and bring yourself off in just the way you like. I want to see how you do it. Here are tissues that you can use to clean up." He handed me a box of tissues which I left on the rug as I went to the corner, turned my back on the whole room and undressed quickly, feeling the professor's eyes watching me.

When I was naked in that corner, I took the fine chain from my neck and held it for a moment, taking that time to feel what I was getting into. Then I unlocked the cage, took it off, and put it with my clothing, leaving the ring in place around my genital package. My erection stood rigidly. It had been a long week.

I put the chain back in place, adjusting the key so that dangled squarely on the bone between my nipples, and turned back to face the professor whose eyes I had felt watching me. I walked slowly toward him, resisting the impulse to cover my pubic region with both hands, and knelt on the rug, facing him in Nadu position, with my knees spread as widely as they would go, hands (palms up) relaxed on my thighs, and my jutting hard-on fully on display.

I kept my head down, breathing deeply, centering myself, and willing myself to forget that this older man was watching me. Then, leaving my left wrist on my thigh, I closed my right hand around my penis and began to stroke myself slowly, feeling my ball sack and anus twitch as the arousal mounted. Coming close to the point of no return, I glanced up for a moment to see the professor eyeing me keenly, as if focused on the details of my technique. Putting my eyes back on the rug, I added my left hand to my right and began to stroke myself faster. In less than a minute from that point, I began to spew ropes of cum which I caught with my left hand. A few drops dribbled on the floor but I avoided making a mess.

The professor applauded softly. "Very good," he said.

"Thank you, sir," I answered politely, reaching for the box of tissues and cleaning up. I said nothing more at that point, basically stalling for time - wanting to say or do something, but wondering where we went from here.

In another moment, he put an end to my uncertainty. "Do you still wish to be my pupil?" he asked.

"Very much, sir."

"Then I accept you," he said formally. "I think I can help you to know yourself sexually and in other ways too, and to find satisfaction for your sexual needs. I'll warn you that it won't all be fun, though some of it will be. But there will be pain and hard work as well, and you'll have to accept this if you hope to get somewhere with me."

"Will I have a safe word?"

"Yes, of course. Usual Scene rules will apply. 'Yellow' will pause what is happening for rest or talk. 'Red' will stop the current interaction entirely. You'll get a chance to rest and recover, and to let me know what went wrong for you. Whatever pain I inflict sometimes, I promise not to harm you and will stop at once if I break your skin. You will be free to quit at any time."

"Any questions now?"

"Two questions, sir. Will I wear your collar, and what should I call you?"

"No, no collar, because I will be your mentor - not your Master. If you want a Master or Mistress at some point, I will help you find one."

"You will just address me as 'sir,' as you've been doing. Or you can call me 'Mentor,' or 'Mentor Robert' to be formal. If you have to have to introduce me or refer to me in public, I'm Dr. Thierry, no longer a professor."

"Now you can get dressed and go home," he went on, "but before you leave let's finish today's business. First, put your cage back on." I did so.

"Is this a good time for you - Thursday afternoons at 4 o'clock?"

When I only nodded and said "yes," he looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Yes, sir!" I quickly said. "I do contract work, mostly at home. Occasionally, I might have to cancel or re-schedule an appointment, but for the part I make my own schedule."

"Excellent! 4 PM Thursdays will be our time until further notice. Write that into your appointment book. We'll usually be finished by 5. If either of us wants a longer session, or a different time for some reason, we'll arrange that in advance."

"Now, about my fee. Do you work steadily?"

When I told him that I did and was rarely between contracts - 'on the beach' as consultants say - he asked for my normal per diem rate, divided that by 8 to get an hourly rate and told me that his fee for each session would be the cash value for two hours of my time. There would be no extra charge if he arranged for a session to last more than one hour.

"Is that acceptable?" he asked me, and I said it was.

"Great," he concluded. "We're in business. "Now give me that key and go home. I will be your keyholder for now. I'll see you again next Thursday."

"Please sir," I complained. "As I told you, I'm used to wanking several days a day. You can't cut me down to once a week, just like that. This last week was torture for me. I can't do that much chastity on a regular basis."

My new mentor sighed patiently, obviously expecting this resistance. "For now, I think you should be celibate between our meetings," he said, "just to get your body used to the idea that it is under discipline - that you cannot just relieve yourself when you feel like it."

"It won't last forever," he continued. "As a novice to edging and chastity, the experience of deprivation will be good for you at this stage - to accept my tutelage, commit to our work together and develop your will-power. Don't think I'm just being mean to you. I'm not even giving you an order, just a friendly suggestion. Hang on to that key if you want to, but try not to use it. See if you can stay locked for a whole week of your own free will. Remember that it keeps a record of use: of being put on and taken off. If you take it off for a clandestine wank, I will know."

"I'm asking you to give me the key, because I think that will make it easier for you to discipline yourself. Let me hold it for you. If you get desperately horny, you can send an email asking for an emergency session." I'll write or phone back and we can talk about it. Maybe I'll let you come in for some emergency relief. Maybe I'll set a price in cane stripes that you'll have to take before we take cage off. Just try not to ask for this. Try to be strong and do without until your visit next Thursday."

"If you want me as a mentor, you must trust my judgment. My best judgment right now is that if you hope to find more intensity and meaning in your auto-erotic practices - what you said you wanted - this is the best way to start."