| Subject: My Gray Hanky |
Author:
Stan
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Date Posted: 12:22:03 09/20/18 Thu
Hopefully, most of my gay readers are familiar with the "gay hanky code". However, for my non-gay readers and those gay readers who flunked "Homosexuality 101", I'll provide a brief explanation. In the 1970s, it became especially common for gay men to wear a colored handkerchief in a rear pants pocket to signal their sexual interests to other gay men. The color of the hanky indicated the particular activity of interest. For example, a light blue hanky indicated an interest in oral sex, while a dark blue hanky indicated an interest in anal sex. A black hanky indicated an interest in S&M. And so on. If the hanky was worn in the left rear pocket, that indicated the wearer preferred the dominant (top) role, and if the hanky was worn in the right rear pocket, that indicated the wearer preferred the submissive (bottom) role.
I knew I had an interest in S&M as I fantasized about it all the time, especially when I was jerking off. So I started wearing a black hanky in my right rear pocket whenever I'd go to the gay leather bars. However, after going home with a number of S&M tops and being subjected to brutal ass whippings with their heavy leather belts or paddled with their mean wooden paddles, I came to the realization that my ass just couldn't take that much pain.
Then, I discovered that some versions of the gay hanky code had a color that seemed just right for me, namely gray, which indicated an interest in "light S&M". So I started wearing a gray hanky in my right rear pocket when I went to the gay leather bars. My problem was solved, or so I thought. However, I discovered there was still a problem: namely, how the other guy interpreted the word "light". For some guys, a gray hanky meant bondage only, but no discipline. For others, it meant a relatively light hand spanking. At the other extreme, some guys interpreted a gray hanky to mean that 100 strokes with a leather belt or a wooden paddle was too much, but 20 or 30 strokes was okay. And then there were those guys (thankfully few) who would give me 100 strokes, no matter how much I begged or pleaded with them to stop.
I thought it was overstepping my role as a bottom to give the top explicit instructions on how much punishment to give me. So, generally, I kept my mouth shut and took my chances. Then, one evening, I met a guy named Jack at a gay leather bar. He sported a black hanky in his left rear pocket. I found him enormously attractive. I fantasized about him physically subduing me. He wore a heavy leather belt, and I would fantasize about him whipping my ass with that belt of his, even though I knew that, in reality, I probably wouldn't find it all that pleasurable. I couldn't help myself. I really wanted to get together with Jack. So I started up a conversation with him. I mentioned to him that I wore a gray hanky because I couldn't take that much pain. He said that was okay with him and suggested we could work something out. So I ended up going home with Jack that evening.
After we got to his place, he told me to take off all my clothes. He said he was going to tie me down on his bed. Then, he waited to see how I reacted to that. When I made no protest, he proceeded to tie me spread-eagle face-down on his bed with leather restraints. Then, Jack uttered the words I least wanted to hear: "Now, I'm going to give you a little taste of my belt!" I didn't say anything, but I did my best to hide my overwhelming fear of GETTING THE BELT. Sweat was dripping profusely from my armpits, threatening to betray my fear. He took off his wide leather belt and doubled it over. He started out with a few light strokes so it appeared he was just going to give me a "token whipping". But the strokes quickly got heavier. After a dozen lashes, I started crying, but that didn't deter Jack from continuing the whipping. By 2 dozen lashes, I was yelling loudly from the pain and begging him to stop, which he did. Then, he said, "I could tell you hated getting it with my belt, but the belt was necessary. The first lesson a bottom needs to learn is to submit to the will of the top." Then, he promised me he wouldn't whip me on the ass anymore, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
He released me from the restraints. So I thought my punishment was over with for the evening, but then he told me to roll over face-up on the bed. After I had turned over, he put my wrists and ankles back into the leather restraints and fastened them again. He took a small leather paddle out of a drawer. The paddle was about 10" long, including the stiff handle. The "business end" of the paddle was about 2" wide. It didn't look like he could do too much "damage" with that paddle. Then, Jack took off all his clothes. He got on the bed with his knees bent. His muscular legs straddled the mid-section of my body. Looking up at his large masculine frame towering over me was quite a turn-on. But I still wondered what he was going to do with that small leather paddle he held in his hand. I didn't have to wait long to find out. I felt a sharp sting on my left tit. Then, I felt a similar sting on my right tit. Then, my tits were subjected to a steady barrage of punishing stings. I moaned as each tit received another stroke. I didn't find the abuse my tits were subjected to as unbearable as the ass-whipping he had given me with his belt, but for several days afterward, my tits felt a soreness they had never experienced before.
Then, Jack got off the bed and pulled out of the drawer a much larger paddle. It was made of thicker leather. It was about 4" wide at the "business end". I wondered what part of my body he was going to use that on. Suddenly, Jack grabbed my cock and balls with his left hand. I got a raging hard-on as he squeezed my "family jewels" ever so tightly. Then, without any warning, the business end of his leather paddle struck the inside of my thighs over and over again, just below my crotch. I worried that he might accidentally hit my "family jewels", but they were protected within the tight grip of his left hand. As my inner thighs were repeatedly subjected to the sting of his leather paddle, I felt them heating up like a furnace. Suddenly, I found myself ejaculating uncontrollably. Jack rubbed my cum over the inside of my thighs and over my cock causing me to ejaculate even more. When I was done, Jack wiped off my cum with a towel.
Jack got back on the bed and straddled my body once more with his legs. But this time, his body began inching its way toward my head. When his cock came into view, it was huge and swollen and stiff as an iron rod. It looked like it was ready to burst. Suddenly, he forced it into my mouth, which could barely contain it. Then, I felt the flood gates open up! He ordered me to swallow all of his cum or suffer an even more painful encounter with his belt. When Jack was finished, we slept together.
The next day, Jack made it clear that he'd like to get together with me again, and I said I was of a like mind. I told him I especially looked forward to getting fucked by him. He told me that would require a sacrifice on my part. He said he only liked to fuck a guy whose ass had been thoroughly "warmed up" in advance with his belt. Recalling how painful his belt had been, I began to have second thoughts about it. However, after a few weeks of abstinence, my sexual desire for Jack had become overwhelming. So I called him up to arrange for another visit. When we got together again, I soon discovered that time had not dulled the sting of his belt (only my memory of it). The whipping he subjected me to was horrendous. During that belt whipping, I experienced continual regrets over the decision I had made. But Jack had no such regrets. I could tell that he was getting sexually excited from hearing my screams of pain. And he got aroused from hearing my desperate pleas for mercy, pleas that were answered with the LASH!.
By the time Jack was done with me, I was a mass of tears. He released me from the leather restraints. Then, he gently rolled me onto my side and snuggled up against my back side. It felt very comforting, as though Jack was now protecting that part of my body he had only just finished brutalizing. Once I had calmed down, I felt Jack penetrating me. I finally got what I came for, but I had paid a heavy price for it.
For the curious, this story is a complete fantasy.
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