| Subject: Karl's Dungeon |
Author:
Stan
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Date Posted: 13:42:04 06/21/18 Thu
I worked for a large corporation that had offices all over the country. If you ever saw me at work in my conservative business suit, you'd never suspect I was the kind of guy who needed to be tied up and subjected to corporal punishment.
One of the perks of my job were the occasional business trips. I was really looking forward to an upcoming business trip to San Francisco. It would give me the opportunity to visit Karl, a leatherman I had met last year at the Folsom Street Fair. I was long overdue for some much-needed discipline. Just thinking about it got me all excited!
I called up Karl and arranged to meet him after the business portion of my trip was over with. I knocked on Karl's door, and he let me in. He was wearing blue jeans, a tan leather vest, and brown cowboy boots. Unlike most leathermen in San Francisco, Karl preferred to wear brown leather, rather than black leather. I thought it imparted to Karl a little aura of the Old West which I found very appealing. He wore a 2" wide brown leather belt with an antique-style bronze buckle about 3" high and 4" wide. It had a raised image of a stagecoach on it and the words "Southwestern Stage Company". I thought Karl looked really hot wearing that impressive belt buckle.
As soon as Karl shut the door, he told me to take off all my clothes and lay them on the couch. I felt especially vulnerable being totally naked. Karl took me into another room which he referred to as his "dungeon". The smell of leather pervaded that room and was quite arousing to me. In the center of the room stood a large wooden cross shaped like an "X". Karl told me to stand in front of the cross and face towards it. He put leather restraints around my wrists and attached them to hooks at the top of the cross with rope. Then, he put leather restraints around my ankles and attached them with rope to hooks at the base of the cross.
Although I had eagerly looked forward to being confined in bondage, I was scared to death of the punishment that was awaiting me. I still had memories of the fearsome whipping Karl had given me last year. You see, I am not one of those guys who get off on physical pain. To be quite frank, the punishment doesn't arouse me. It just hurts like hell. So, why did I allow myself to be subjected to such pain? I think it was because I had this deep-seated need to be subdued by another man.
After Karl had secured my body to the cross, he left the room. Although he had been gone only a few minutes, the wait for his return seemed interminable, as he had left me with that worst of all companions: my own fear. On the walls of Karl's dungeon hung frightful instruments of punishment. I confess to being intimidated by them. My mind would torture itself wondering which implements Karl was going to use on me. Then, I would focus on each implement individually and imagine how much pain I would suffer from repeated strokes of that implement.
When Karl finally returned, he removed a wooden paddle from the wall. There were holes drilled in the wood which guaranteed an extra painful experience for the recipient. Karl wrapped his left hand around my sex organ (causing it to become hard), and he held on to it with a tight grip, while his right hand applied the paddle to my naked buttocks, alternating strokes between one cheek and the other. The strokes were relatively light at first and felt like a brisk massage. I hardly noticed the moment when that brisk massage was transformed into a succession of burning stings. My butt felt like it was on fire. I started crying. Then, I noticed that the paddle stings were getting more and more intense. Soon, I was yelling. Just when I thought I couldn't take any more of the pain, Karl mercifully stopped the punishment and returned the paddle to its position on the wall.
While I was still tied to the cross, Karl approached me unseen from the rear. He wrapped his arms tightly around me. I experienced a feeling of "security" being enclosed in Karl's strong arms, which was quite unexpected. Then, I felt the cold metal of Karl's large belt buckle pressing against my flaming buns, providing some cooling relief.
Karl removed the restraints and allowed me to relax while I got acquainted with the latest acquisition to his dungeon. Although the cross I had been tied to was well lit, parts of the room were still hidden in the shadows. Then, Karl turned on another light, revealing his latest acquisition. He called it a "bondage horse". It resembled an oversized sawhorse, but instead of a narrow top that one lay across uncomfortably, it had a wide flat top to support the full torso of the rider's body. Arm and leg rests protruding from both sides of the horse supported the rider's limbs. And those parts of the horse that the rider's body rested on were covered with comfortable leather, rather than being bare wood.
I mounted that bondage horse. My chest and pelvis were resting comfortably on top of it, while my limbs lay loosely on the arm and leg rests. After the pain of his paddle had become little more than an unpleasant memory, Karl fastened my arms to leather restraints on both sides of the horse, and then he did the same thing with my legs. So, I ended up in something like a jockey's low riding position on a racehorse. Finally, he wrapped two leather straps around my torso and the top piece of the horse, which prevented me from lifting my body off the horse. The sinister nature of the horse became evident when I realized that my buttocks were now fully exposed at the rear of the horse!
Karl walked over to one wall and removed a mean-looking razor strap that was hanging there. I knew then that this was going to be one hell of a ride! The strap was probably a favorite instrument of Karl's as it appeared well-worn from frequent use (and not from sharpening straight razors either). He raised the strap and gave me one solid stroke across my butt. It hurt like you wouldn't believe! The pain radiated throughout my entire body for over a minute.
After a half dozen lashes with that razor strap, I was yelling at the top of my lungs. I begged Karl to stop. I told him I couldn't take any more. But each stroke was inexorably followed by another one, fiendishly timed to inflict the maximum amount of pain. For those of you who have never felt the razor strap, it feels like someone has applied a blowtorch to your butt. I was screaming my head off! Finally, after 20 excruciating lashes, he ended the punishment.
Karl hung the razor strap back on the wall. Then, he walked over to the front end of the bondage horse where my head was. He unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down a little, revealing a huge erection. He ordered me to "service" him. Then, he warned me that, if he wasn't satisfied, he would have no qualms about removing that razor strap again and taking me on another ride through Hell! As my butt was still throbbing in pain from the punishment it had already received, I would have done anything he asked to avoid feeling that razor strap again.
Karl rewarded me by letting me stay with him overnight. Just lying in bed next to this incredibly virile man got me so excited I could hardly sleep. Then, sometime during the night, I experienced a strange sensation. I felt like my arms were paralyzed. I couldn't move them. When I opened my eyes, I discovered that Karl was on top of me, holding my hands down with his strong arms! Weakened by the punishment I had received that evening, I didn't have enough strength left to resist his advances and could only lie there helpless while he penetrated my "inner sanctum".
For the curious, this story was a complete fantasy.
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