tagBDSMFirst Timer: The Narrow Belt

First Timer: The Narrow Belt

byCal Y. Pygia©

With the wide belt, Russ had added welts and bruises and swollen ridges to Gary's ass. In the process, Gary had had to endure the greatest pain yet, for Russ had not merely spanked, but beaten, Gary's buttocks with the wide leather strap, laying one blow atop the next, in the same furrow that the first of the half dozen strokes had created across his backside. The beating had had its intended effect, stripping away another layer of Gary's pride, virility, and manhood along with the flesh of his bottom. As such, the beating, which had produced exquisite, almost unendurable pain, had brought Gary that much closer to becoming a spiritual eunuch. Its work completed, Russ had returned the wide belt to the night table beside the bed and had taken up the next instrument of Gary's torment--the thin, or narrow, belt.

Russ had bought this belt a week ago. Upon seeing it in a men's clothing store, he'd purchased it immediately--not to wear (although he did sometimes wear it)--but to add to his ever-growing collection of spanking implements. At home, proudly displayed on his basement wall, Russ had paddles, hairbrushes, cat-o-nine-tail whips, riding crops, bullwhips, and other spanking instruments. Each had been used on at least one man's or, in a few instances, woman's bottom. As yet, this new belt had not been so employed. However, a hook awaited it in the basement, and, after today's session with Gary, Russ would see to it that this belt also hung among its many counterparts. First, however, it must earn its place of honor, and Russ would see that it did so, right now.

Most people mistakenly assumed that a wider belt would inflict more distress on its recipient's buttocks, but experts in the use of spanking implements, including Russ, knew that this belief was erroneous. The narrower the surface area against which a well-aimed leather strap made contact, the more, not the less, painful the effect would be. A narrow belt was, consequently, far more an agent of anguish than its wider cousins. The one that Russ held in his hand was a half inch wide. It was pliable, too, and would offer little resistance as it flashed through the air with an unnerving whoosh! Such a fine, flexible, narrow belt as the one Russ had selected for Gary's "enjoyment" would not so much lash or whip as cut. Each time this belt landed upon Gary's ass cheeks, the result would be a quick, slicing pain and a red line--not of bruised flesh but of blood from broken skin. Just the thought of the anguish that he was about to inflict upon Gary's ass and the lovely bloody lines he'd make upon the cheeks of his round, sleek bottom kept Russ' cock erect. It was rigid, like steel, and swollen to its fullest dimensions.

Having studied Gary's ass to determine the best locations for the lashes with the narrow belt, Russ had selected three sites on each buttock. Now, raising the thin belt high overhead, he slashed it down, hard, against Gary's bare backside. The leather cut sharply into Gary's bottom, and he yelled and tried to lurch forward, but the bed's being up against his thighs prevented him from doing so. A fine red line appeared on the ass cheek that Russ had struck with the narrow belt. Along the line, small red beads formed, dripping slowly down the slope formed by the lower portion of the buttock. Gary's screams subsided into low moans.

When the moans had become mere whimpers, Russ raised the belt again. In quick succession, he thrashed Gary's buttocks soundly four more times, the narrow belt whizzing through the air to cut the flesh upon Gary's buttocks: Thwack! Whack! Wallop! Smack! Four more lines joined the first, seeping blood, as had the previous one. Russ smiled, watching the crimson trickles coursing over Gary's ass cheeks, flanks, and thighs.

Gary's whimpers became full-throated cries. He squirmed and twisted upon the mattress, kicking with his legs, as he screamed. "Stop! Please, stop! I can't take any more!"

Russ answered his plea with two more cutting strokes of the belt, and two more lines appeared, as if by magic, in Gary's bruised and welted bottom.

Gary gasped, tears overflowing his eyes. Instead of shrieking, he sobbed, blubbering and weeping. When he was able to find his voice again, he repeated his pleas: "Stop! I can't bear another stroke of the belt!"

Another lash opened another gash, and more blood oozed and trickled from the wound as Gary wept and blubbered more loudly, kicking his legs furiously and rolling from side to side.

Russ paused. When Gary's thrashings and kicking had subsided, Russ bid him to raise his upper body from the mattress and, remaining on his knees, turn to face him. Gary tried to comply, obedient, even now, in his agony, but the pain was so great as to be temporarily incapacitating. Russ gave Gary a few moments to collect his wits. Then, he repeated his command. Again, Gary tried to obey, but to no avail.

"Do you want another half dozen strokes?" Russ threatened.

"No!" Gary wailed.

Yanking the opposite ends of the belt, Russ snapped the thin leather strap in his hands. "Then do as I say!"

Fearing additional swats more than he feared awakening the pain that smoldered in his buttocks, Gary forced himself to raise his upper body from the mattress, and pushed himself up, off the bed with his arms. The effort send fiery waves of agony through his burning bottom, and he nearly collapsed onto the bed. Nevertheless, he caught himself, pushed himself up again, and managed to rise so that he was still kneeling but his upper body was vertical instead of horizontal across the mattress.

"You just saved yourself half a dozen more strokes of the belt," Russ informed him. "Now, remain on your knees, but turn to face me."

By an excruciating effort, Gary managed to hobble around on his kneecaps until he faced Russ, who stood behind him. Now that Russ could see his countenance, he saw the tears that streamed steadily down Gary's face, and he saw that Gary's upper lip wore a mustache of mucus. Furthermore, spittle had drooled down Gary's chin, and he spluttered as he gasped for breath between sobs.

"Quit your crocodile tears!" Russ ordered.

Gary tried to comply with his tormentor's directive, but he could not completely repress the tears or the sobs.

Another stinging, slashing blow of the belt cut through the flesh on Gary's colorful, well-marked buttocks, and he screamed in agony, shock, and outrage. Standing before him, Russ had brought the belt down, over Gary's shoulders and back to strike once more at his bruised and lacerated bottom, and the cruel stroke of leather had hurt beyond belief. Gary squealed, and his hands swept round his hips to clutch and rub his injured ass. More great sobs escaped his lips, and a new generation of tears washed his cheeks.

"Quit your crying or you'll get more!" Russ warned.

This time, Gary was able to bring himself under a semblance of control. He muffled the sobs, whimpering rather than screaming or moaning. The effort was enough to placate Russ, and that was all, Gary thought, that mattered.

"Open your eyes," Russ ordered.

Gary did as he'd been told, fresh tears pouring down his cheeks.

"What do you see?"

What met Gary's eyes when he'd opened them at Russ' command was Russ' thick, six-inch prick, standing upright against his belly.

"Your cock," Gary answered.

"Suck it," Russ commanded.

Obediently, Gary bent forward. Bowing his head and parting his lips, took Russ' smooth, thick, warm member into his mouth.

As Russ watched from above, Gary's head bobbed up and down, up and down, up and down. The wide "O" of his open lips slid back and forth upon the rigid column of flesh, riding the shaft of Russ' thick prick.

The sensation of having a warm, wet mouth pumping up and down upon his erect member was wonderful, Russ thought, as was watching his penis slide back and forth between Gary's soft, saliva-lubricated lips. "Oh, that's right, slut! Suck my cock!"

Before he'd met Russ, Gary would have been insulted by someone's calling him a "bitch" or a "slut," but Russ had used both terms in reference to him, and neither description had angered him. In fact, hearing the man who'd spanked, paddled, and beaten his ass with his hand, a paddle, and a belt call him these rude and offensive names was exciting to Gary. It titillated him. Gary wondered what was wrong with himself. Why would he like being called such abusive terms? Why did he enjoy being dominated and controlled? Why was he keen on being ordered about and commanded by another man? What made him love being humiliated, spanked, paddled, and beaten by a more dominant and aggressive male? Why had he agreed to drink Russ' piss and what made him delight in sucking Russ' cock?

Obviously, Gary, who was separated from his wife of eleven years, was bisexual. He liked women, but, as he'd found when he'd surfed the porn sites on the Internet, he loved men. It was by surfing the 'net that he'd encountered Russ. His curiosity about spanking had led him to a number of spanking sites. One of those was the one on which he had found Russ' email address. In his online profile, Russ had described himself as gray-haired and handsome, as near Gary's own age, and as a man who got hard when he thought about--or delivered--light, erotic spankings. Intrigued, Gary had overcome his initial hesitation, repressing his misgivings about contacting a stranger concerning something as intimate as baring his ass for a spanking, and, despite his anxiety, humiliation, guilt, and shame, Gary had sent the first of the several emails that he and Russ ultimately exchanged.

One of Russ' responses had included the attachment of his digitized photo. Once Gary saw his handsome, kind, open face, he was infatuated with the other man. It had been lust, if not exactly love, at first sight. As he'd thought of this handsome, distinguished man spanking his bare, defenseless ass, Gary's cock had sprouted an erection, and he'd masturbated furiously as, with a plastic coat hanger, he'd spanked his own buttocks fast and hard, leaving red-purple welts the width of the hanger.

Now, as he sucked Russ' cock, thinking of the time he'd spanked his own ass while fantasizing about the handsome stranger who wanted to spank him, Gary remembered how painful the coat hanger beating he'd delivered to his ass had been. Had he not inflicted such anguish on his burning buttocks, he'd never have believed that a plastic coat hanger, applied in such a manner, could produce such splendid agony. Still, as painful as his self-flagellation with the hanger had been, it paled in comparison to the anguish that Russ had ignited throughout his ass with his hand, a paddle, and a couple of belts.

Although he tried to exercise discretion as he sucked Russ' prick, from time to time, Gary's mouth made wet, slurping sounds as he pumped his lips up and down upon the rigid penis that glided through his lips, over his tongue, beneath the roof of his mouth, and past the inside walls of his cheeks. Had Gary's ass not been on fire and his thoughts concentrated upon providing the best, most satisfying oral service he could give, these slurping sounds would have embarrassed and humiliated him. As it was, he hardly heard them; as much as they did register on his consciousness, they excited him. Since their spanking session had started, sucking Russ' prick had been the first time that Gary had been allowed to take an active part in the activities in which Russ had required him to participate. Instead, Gary had been on the receiving end of a spanking by Russ' hand, a paddling, and two beatings with belts. He'd also been made to drink a cup of his tormentor's piss. It was only now that he'd been granted a measure of active participation in the sexual activities of which he was part, and, although he found sucking another man's cock to be humiliating and degrading, he also found that he very much enjoyed both the act itself and the freedom to be an active participant in his sexual activities with Russ.

However, as Russ placed his hands on either side of Gary's head, his palms covering his ears and his fingers curling around the back of the cock sucker's skull, the sense of autonomy and independence vanished. Once again, Russ had transformed Gary into a thing rather than a person. This time, instead of a pair of buttocks to be spanked and paddled and whipped, Gary had been reduced to a head containing a vaginal mouth that was as warm and wet and tender as a cunt.

Holding his head firmly between his hands, Russ took control of his cock, thrusting hard and fast into Gary's mouth. The tip of Russ' six-inch prick plunged into the opening of Gary's throat, gagging him. Gary's eyes bulged, as panic seized him. Instinctively, he tried to open his mouth wider and spit out the piece of meat that was choking him, but his mouth was already open as wide as possible, stuffed as it was with Russ' member. Fortunately, the prick retreated from his throat again, and the panic subsided--until the cock shoved into his esophagus again, triggering the same instinctive fright as it momentarily cut off his air supply. Back and forth, in and out, the thick, hard prick rammed and withdrew itself. Eventually, Gary's gag reflex ceased, and the muscles in his throat, like those in his cheeks, relaxed, accepting the presence of the invading prick.

For the first time during their encounter, Russ cried out, his voice loud and hoarse with passion, as his lurching, straining cock spewed jet after warm, thick jet of his salty semen over Gary's tongue, palate, and inner cheeks. Several spurts of his sperm collided against the back of Gary's throat, and the cock sucker swallowed the tasty snack. Having shot his load, Russ withdrew his sperm-smeared prick from Gary's mouth, trailing semen over Gary's lips and chin.

Being ravished orally had excited Gary. His own prick stood out, stiff and straight, from his pubes.

Recovering from the intense orgasm and ejaculation of his seed, Russ caught sight of Gary's erection. "Did I give you permission to get a hard on?" he demanded.

Gary looked down at his offending penis. "No," he admitted.

Before Gary could say another word, the narrow belt came down over his shoulders and back to deliver four cutting blows that took Gary's breath away and reduced him, once again, to sobs, moans, whimpers, and tears. Instead of the incredible pain making his dick revert to its normal soft and flaccid state, the agony that surged through his bruised and bloodied bottom made his penis swell and stiffen more. Instead of sticking straight out from his pubes, it angled sharply upward, nearly touching his lower belly.

Again, Gary wondered what was wrong with him. Why was he such a pain slut? Why did he enjoy being used and abused by another man?

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byCal Y. Pygia© 0 comments/ 120346 views/ 1 favorites

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