The Rakshasa s HeartChapter 4 The Rakshasa rsquo s Heart
- 2 years ago
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My Master Has Gone free porn video
Lost My Master
A couple of years ago I was frequenting various gay saunas in my home city. One day I came across this guy, Steve. We got on and after a grope, headed up to a playroom. Unfortunately, there was a bit of bother, nothing serious, with a punter, and we split up while avoiding the rumpus. I lost Steve and by the time we caught up, I had to leave. For months I hoped I would bump into him but to no avail. Then when walking in my village he passed me. Our eyes met and though I was 99% it was him, that 1% held me back. However, on the way back from the post office we walked towards each other again. This time, Steve said ‘hello’ and I stopped and commented on something ridiculous like the weather.
I could see Steve’s eyes wandering over me and in the region of my tight jeans’ crotch. He then said that I looked familiar and asked whether we had met before. I replied, ‘we have but it wouldn’t be discrete to say where.’ Steve nearly jumped out of his skin when he realised where I meant.
‘Pardon me but I don’t really recall,’ he replied and I added, ‘It is dark in there though, so perhaps…’. With that, Steve realised we were on the same page and he became relaxed. We walked together in the morning sun and it felt good to speak to him. He isn’t a looker but he has this quality about him that says, ‘take me to bed.’ He is a little rotund – not too much – with receding dark hair and big wide eyes.
As we reached a junction I sensed Steve getting nervous so I said, ‘I’ll have to go or the wife will be wondering where I am.’ Again he seemed relieved and said with a smile, ‘Mine too.’ I passed him a card and said that if he would like a coffee, he should feel free to call. And that was it for about six months. I then received a text, stating that it was Steve, apologising for the delay and asking if I was still interested. I was and when I text back, he asked me to meet at his place and that the coast was clear. Fortunately, my wife was away on a ski trip so it was perfect timing.
I was very nervous when I met Steve at his front door and he was too, checking around and hurrying me in before any neighbours could see. After so long, conversation was stilted but I flirted badly – as always – and he relaxed. Steve apologised again and said that he just couldn’t remember me. ‘It is hard, when you are only wearing a towel, to recognise someone fully clothed in your own village.’ Steve laughed and said he could supply another towel to which suggestion I immediately said ‘yes, please.’ Feigning shock, he went away and returned with one the size of a postage stamp. He asked if I wanted to wear it and after establishing that we were safe from visitors, I headed towards the downstairs loo to get changed.
‘Oh, not there,’ said Steve. The upstairs one is better. I made my way up, feeling trashy and very ‘bottom’. Inside the bathroom, I stripped and wrapped the towel around my waist but it hardly joined. I left the room only to find Steve standing there. He scared me a little but then reached out and softly touched my skin, rubbing his hands over my shoulders and arms. ‘Lovely,’ he commented.
I felt goose pimples rising on my flesh and decided to move for a kiss but Steve oddly pushed me away, not forcefully, but enough to leave me feeling vulnerable. ‘I don’t do the kissy, kissy gay things,’ he insisted. ‘That was very naughty and I think you need discipline to show respect. Well, boy?’ he shouted. By now, I was very vulnerable, standing half naked, a towel falling from my waist and having been admonished in a stranger’s house.
‘Are you going to say anything?’ he snarled.
‘Yes…Steve,’ I stammered but he came back, ‘Sir…only say sir to me, boy.’ He reached out and lifted my chin before whispering, ‘It is OK. Just roleplay. You can stop.’ I said ‘no’, and we continued. ‘Safe word is “England”’. I nodded, half bemused, wondering what I was doing.
Steve reverted to being my master. ‘Get in there boy and lay flat down on the bed. Don’t cum on any of my sheets or you’re for it. Then put your hands behind your back. I will be along soon.’
I did as Steve asked, stupidly realising that he could be a psycho but at the same time being so turned on that I complied. I heard Steve enter the room and felt him grab my hands behind my back. He applied some ties and then I felt a gag wrap around my face. I bit onto the ball of the gag and he fastened it loosely. ‘Shit’ I thought. This is not great.
As I lay there, nervous, anxious and panicking, I heard Steve say, ‘I will start with a hand spanking. Six on each cheek. Just a starter. Remember the safe word.’ I thought, ‘Really?’ I do remember it but how the hell can I say it with a ball gag in my mouth!
I lay still, not knowing what would follow until thwack. A real stinger on my arse. I tensed, waiting for a repeat and then relaxed just as another came down. I don’t know where but there came a point when the nice sensation of pain disappeared, somewhere after I counted six and realised it was six on each cheek. The final spanks sent my mind dizzying with pain. The bounds were released and gag removed. I stood before him clutching my cheeks.
‘Have you learned your lesson, boy,’ asked Steve.
I looked down. ‘Yes, sir.’
I then remember touching my cock, which was flaccid following the spanking.
‘What’s that?’ demanded Steve. ‘You dare touch yourself in front of me. Were you wanking?’
I could not help but laugh and this caused Steve to roughly manhandle me back onto the bed and tie me up. ‘You dirt little fag,’ he seethed. The spanks came hard and fast. These were not satisfying but hurt like hell. At the end of the session, I was released again but this time laid still.
‘Get up and dressed you dirty queer,’ Steve taunted as he left the room. I gathered my clothes and dressed. When I went to leave, Steve came out from behind his kitchen door. ‘Tomorrow, same time and place. Those hand marks will subside this evening.’
I walked out of Steve’s house without a murmur and felt utterly humiliated. However, when I woke up alone for once, I knew where I wanted to be. Steve was ready and waiting as he demanded. I undressed without prompt but this time he tied my hands onto two straps hanging from his bedroom door. Some kind of improvised spacer bar was then attached to my ankles and the punishment started again. This time, he loosened me by spitting into my ear that he hated dirty little fags like me. When I half turned, I also noticed that he was undressed to his undies and he had a gigantic hard on.
The smacks on my rear were again made with the hand. Each one was followed by an admonishment and a homophobic insult, meant to degrade me. I don’t know why but I did not breakdown like last time but the final six really did get to me and I screamed through the gag. Steve turned me around and played with my cock for a few minutes, wanking it wildly until it partially stiffened.
‘Do you mind if I indulge in some cock beating?’ I did not reply. Steve left the room and returned with a series of canes, which he laid out on the floor. The one he wafted had a tag on the end. He whipped it down repeatedly on the end of my cock, just enough to catch it. Maybe 12-18 strokes hit home, each delivering a needle like pain. Clutching and scrunching my balls, he then brought the cane down lightly on them and this did make me squirm. I looked down and watched them turn dark purple with each stroke. Then back to my cock but this time, he brought the cane down upon the shaft. The tape at the end of the cane crisscrossed my erect penis until marks started to appear and grew redder with each swat. I thought it would never end, then he went back to my balls. I thought that this was enough and muffled the safe word, only to see him pick another cane, which he brought down and across my thighs. Marks appeared instantly.
After a beating of about 20 minutes, I could take no more and Steve released my hands. I slumped to my feet.
‘That’ll teach you to enter my office without permission!’ he growled. I had no idea what he was talking about. Then he grabbed my head and pulled it into his groin. I knew what was expected. Out came my tongue. Steve pulled aside his undies as quickly as possible and almost straight away he came in my face. For minutes, he just rubbed the cock over my lips and then I swallowed it down to the bottom of his shaft. It tasted of stale urine and cum. All the time he called me derisory gay names.
Steve pulled down the harness and attached my hands again. He turned and forced his arse cheeks into my face. I stuck out my tongue and he opened his hole and pushed back. I buried it inside for several minutes and licked him out. When he finished he turned around and looked me straight in the face.
‘You wanna kiss now?’
‘Yes, sir,’ I replied.
‘Here goes,’ he said and then promptly spat into my open mouth. He stood up and pointed his cock at me. A long stream of golden piss flowed from his cock into my face and down my body towards my beaten genitals. It was the ultimate humiliation and when I looked up at him he appeared absolutely possessed by his role. Piss streamed all over me and onto his bedroom floor. He just could not stop until he emptied.
After pissing all over me, Steve unfastened and left me to dress. The house was quiet as I made my way downstairs, rubbing my sore arse cheeks and cock. I got to the front door and Steve appeared again.
‘Thanks but don’t come back. I’m finished.’
I stepped over the threshold and heard the door slam behind. I did not look back. My master was gone, having used me and I felt the most intense sense of utter shame.
A couple of years ago I was frequenting various gay saunas in my home city. One day I came across this guy, Steve. We got on and after a grope, headed up to a playroom. Unfortunately, there was a bit of bother, nothing serious, with a punter, and we split up while avoiding the rumpus. I lost Steve and by the time we caught up, I had to leave. For months I hoped I would bump into him but to no avail. Then when walking in my village he passed me. Our eyes met and though I was 99% it was him, that 1% held me back. However, on the way back from the post office we walked towards each other again. This time, Steve said ‘hello’ and I stopped and commented on something ridiculous like the weather.
I could see Steve’s eyes wandering over me and in the region of my tight jeans’ crotch. He then said that I looked familiar and asked whether we had met before. I replied, ‘we have but it wouldn’t be discrete to say where.’ Steve nearly jumped out of his skin when he realised where I meant.
‘Pardon me but I don’t really recall,’ he replied and I added, ‘It is dark in there though, so perhaps…’. With that, Steve realised we were on the same page and he became relaxed. We walked together in the morning sun and it felt good to speak to him. He isn’t a looker but he has this quality about him that says, ‘take me to bed.’ He is a little rotund – not too much – with receding dark hair and big wide eyes.
As we reached a junction I sensed Steve getting nervous so I said, ‘I’ll have to go or the wife will be wondering where I am.’ Again he seemed relieved and said with a smile, ‘Mine too.’ I passed him a card and said that if he would like a coffee, he should feel free to call. And that was it for about six months. I then received a text, stating that it was Steve, apologising for the delay and asking if I was still interested. I was and when I text back, he asked me to meet at his place and that the coast was clear. Fortunately, my wife was away on a ski trip so it was perfect timing.
I was very nervous when I met Steve at his front door and he was too, checking around and hurrying me in before any neighbours could see. After so long, conversation was stilted but I flirted badly – as always – and he relaxed. Steve apologised again and said that he just couldn’t remember me. ‘It is hard, when you are only wearing a towel, to recognise someone fully clothed in your own village.’ Steve laughed and said he could supply another towel to which suggestion I immediately said ‘yes, please.’ Feigning shock, he went away and returned with one the size of a postage stamp. He asked if I wanted to wear it and after establishing that we were safe from visitors, I headed towards the downstairs loo to get changed.
‘Oh, not there,’ said Steve. The upstairs one is better. I made my way up, feeling trashy and very ‘bottom’. Inside the bathroom, I stripped and wrapped the towel around my waist but it hardly joined. I left the room only to find Steve standing there. He scared me a little but then reached out and softly touched my skin, rubbing his hands over my shoulders and arms. ‘Lovely,’ he commented.
I felt goose pimples rising on my flesh and decided to move for a kiss but Steve oddly pushed me away, not forcefully, but enough to leave me feeling vulnerable. ‘I don’t do the kissy, kissy gay things,’ he insisted. ‘That was very naughty and I think you need discipline to show respect. Well, boy?’ he shouted. By now, I was very vulnerable, standing half naked, a towel falling from my waist and having been admonished in a stranger’s house.
‘Are you going to say anything?’ he snarled.
‘Yes…Steve,’ I stammered but he came back, ‘Sir…only say sir to me, boy.’ He reached out and lifted my chin before whispering, ‘It is OK. Just roleplay. You can stop.’ I said ‘no’, and we continued. ‘Safe word is “England”’. I nodded, half bemused, wondering what I was doing.
Steve reverted to being my master. ‘Get in there boy and lay flat down on the bed. Don’t cum on any of my sheets or you’re for it. Then put your hands behind your back. I will be along soon.’
I did as Steve asked, stupidly realising that he could be a psycho but at the same time being so turned on that I complied. I heard Steve enter the room and felt him grab my hands behind my back. He applied some ties and then I felt a gag wrap around my face. I bit onto the ball of the gag and he fastened it loosely. ‘Shit’ I thought. This is not great.
As I lay there, nervous, anxious and panicking, I heard Steve say, ‘I will start with a hand spanking. Six on each cheek. Just a starter. Remember the safe word.’ I thought, ‘Really?’ I do remember it but how the hell can I say it with a ball gag in my mouth!
I lay still, not knowing what would follow until thwack. A real stinger on my arse. I tensed, waiting for a repeat and then relaxed just as another came down. I don’t know where but there came a point when the nice sensation of pain disappeared, somewhere after I counted six and realised it was six on each cheek. The final spanks sent my mind dizzying with pain. The bounds were released and gag removed. I stood before him clutching my cheeks.
‘Have you learned your lesson, boy,’ asked Steve.
I looked down. ‘Yes, sir.’
I then remember touching my cock, which was flaccid following the spanking.
‘What’s that?’ demanded Steve. ‘You dare touch yourself in front of me. Were you wanking?’
I could not help but laugh and this caused Steve to roughly manhandle me back onto the bed and tie me up. ‘You dirt little fag,’ he seethed. The spanks came hard and fast. These were not satisfying but hurt like hell. At the end of the session, I was released again but this time laid still.
‘Get up and dressed you dirty queer,’ Steve taunted as he left the room. I gathered my clothes and dressed. When I went to leave, Steve came out from behind his kitchen door. ‘Tomorrow, same time and place. Those hand marks will subside this evening.’
I walked out of Steve’s house without a murmur and felt utterly humiliated. However, when I woke up alone for once, I knew where I wanted to be. Steve was ready and waiting as he demanded. I undressed without prompt but this time he tied my hands onto two straps hanging from his bedroom door. Some kind of improvised spacer bar was then attached to my ankles and the punishment started again. This time, he loosened me by spitting into my ear that he hated dirty little fags like me. When I half turned, I also noticed that he was undressed to his undies and he had a gigantic hard on.
The smacks on my rear were again made with the hand. Each one was followed by an admonishment and a homophobic insult, meant to degrade me. I don’t know why but I did not breakdown like last time but the final six really did get to me and I screamed through the gag. Steve turned me around and played with my cock for a few minutes, wanking it wildly until it partially stiffened.
‘Do you mind if I indulge in some cock beating?’ I did not reply. Steve left the room and returned with a series of canes, which he laid out on the floor. The one he wafted had a tag on the end. He whipped it down repeatedly on the end of my cock, just enough to catch it. Maybe 12-18 strokes hit home, each delivering a needle like pain. Clutching and scrunching my balls, he then brought the cane down lightly on them and this did make me squirm. I looked down and watched them turn dark purple with each stroke. Then back to my cock but this time, he brought the cane down upon the shaft. The tape at the end of the cane crisscrossed my erect penis until marks started to appear and grew redder with each swat. I thought it would never end, then he went back to my balls. I thought that this was enough and muffled the safe word, only to see him pick another cane, which he brought down and across my thighs. Marks appeared instantly.
After a beating of about 20 minutes, I could take no more and Steve released my hands. I slumped to my feet.
‘That’ll teach you to enter my office without permission!’ he growled. I had no idea what he was talking about. Then he grabbed my head and pulled it into his groin. I knew what was expected. Out came my tongue. Steve pulled aside his undies as quickly as possible and almost straight away he came in my face. For minutes, he just rubbed the cock over my lips and then I swallowed it down to the bottom of his shaft. It tasted of stale urine and cum. All the time he called me derisory gay names.
Steve pulled down the harness and attached my hands again. He turned and forced his arse cheeks into my face. I stuck out my tongue and he opened his hole and pushed back. I buried it inside for several minutes and licked him out. When he finished he turned around and looked me straight in the face.
‘You wanna kiss now?’
‘Yes, sir,’ I replied.
‘Here goes,’ he said and then promptly spat into my open mouth. He stood up and pointed his cock at me. A long stream of golden piss flowed from his cock into my face and down my body towards my beaten genitals. It was the ultimate humiliation and when I looked up at him he appeared absolutely possessed by his role. Piss streamed all over me and onto his bedroom floor. He just could not stop until he emptied.
After pissing all over me, Steve unfastened and left me to dress. The house was quiet as I made my way downstairs, rubbing my sore arse cheeks and cock. I got to the front door and Steve appeared again.
‘Thanks but don’t come back. I’m finished.’
I stepped over the threshold and heard the door slam behind. I did not look back. My master was gone, having used me and I felt the most intense sense of utter shame.
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