Transition

I showed up promptly at 11:00. I rang the doorbell and was expecting to be ushered in as I was the day before, ordered to strip and to be blindfolded.

As has often been the case, Master surprised me. He greeted me with a big "Hello and welcome!" and invited me in as if I were a long lost friend and as if the day before had never happened.

"Come on in Stephen," he invited. "I was just going to BBQ some steaks. Come on out on the patio."

He lead me through his home. As I passed through each room I was again impressed with his style and taste. As we walked down the hall through to the kitchen, there were framed pictures of a number of women and men, all good looking people of various ages. Yet, they did not look like family pictures as I could see no resemblance across them. He noticed my interest.

"This is a bit of a hall of fame, Stephen. Those are some of my previous 'converts'. Over the years I have trained a lot of men and women to realize their potential as slaves. These are the ones that graduated into fulltime servitude. But enough of that now, I wanted to spend some time getting to know one another."

I wondered where there all were now, but did not pose the question.

We had a delightful lunch. I helped finish making the salad while he tended to the T-bones on the BBQ. We sat on the patio watching the sunlight playing across the water in the pool while we talked about our lives. Knowing that I was curious about his obvious financial success, he told me that he had been one of New York's leading psychologists but decided to change careers when he was 35. He became a consultant for a number of Fortune 500 companies to assist them with their Internet-marketing campaigns. His insight into the psychology of the masses enabled them to present their message in a way that was almost subliminal. Companies that used his services saw their revenues increase by at least 5% and he was compensated by taking a small percentage of the revenue increases. By the time he was 40, he was worth over $50 million. At that time, he reinvented himself again and settled into a more leisurely lifestyle that included writing books and, of course, focusing more on his interests in BDSM.

He chose our smaller west coast city to settle because, like most of those who had moved here, he loved the ocean, the warmer weather, and the quaintness that comes with a smaller population. He has also grown up in the area.

I told him a little more about my history, what my wife was like, how my kids were turning out. I told him about my fears of being discovered. I loved my wife and we still had a decent sex life. Of any woman in the world, she was the one I wanted to be with. I told him how I had tried to introduce her to the ideas of bondage and discipline, hoping she might take to the role of a Domatrix. She had made a short-lived attempt to explore BDSM with me, as we tried on a few occasions to tie each other up and even bought a small whip which we had used on each other. I saw his eyebrows rise when I mentioned the whip.

"And how did you like being whipped, Stephen?"

"I was literally shaking with sexual tension," I told him. "The sex we had afterwards was just about the best I had ever had".

"Interesting," was all he said.

We continued with our discussions. He was witty, intelligent, and thoughtful. The idea crossed my mind that, if I were gay, this is the kind of man another man could easily fall for. Between his keen mind and his rugged handsome looks, he was just about perfect.

The time sailed away and before I knew it, he glanced at his watch and announced, "Well our time seems to be up." It was as if we had just completed a session and it was time for his next patient.

"When do you think you can break away again, Stephen?"

"Well, I'll work late this afternoon, so no one will be concerned with my taking time off in the middle of the day. I can do the same tomorrow if you would like?"

"That would be fine. Why don't we plan for the exact same time tomorrow? But make sure you have had a good breakfast, because you will be skipping lunch tomorrow. I want you here for two hours again."

He was always like that. He would hint that something would be happening, and then leave me to anticipate it. I would have been disappointed that nothing sexual had happened that day except for the fact that we had had such a good time over that lunch. I went back to work but found it difficult to focus for the rest of the day.

The next day, at 11:00 sharp, I rang the front door bell to be greeted in the same warm friendly manner as the day before. However, as soon as the door had closed, he grabbed my balls through my pants and planted a deep passionate kiss on my lips. His tongue darted into my mouth as his other hand reached behind my back and pressed me tightly against his body. We stood there for a few minutes kissing. His lips were soft but his aggression was obvious as his tongue explore my mouth while his hand kneaded my cock and balls.

He pulled away and circled behind me. He said, "That was nice. You kiss very well. As nice as any woman might kiss her man."

He pulled out the blindfold and wrapped it around my head. As I stood there blinded, I felt his hands caress my body as he reached around and undid the buttons on my shirt. He disrobed me slowly, touching me everywhere with his firm hands.

"Stephen," he said in that hypnotically resonant voice of his, "I am always going to tell you what is going to happen. This is because the feelings that you will experience will be as much in your mind as they will be to your body. All great sex is in the mind. The body only provides the nerves and senses to explore what the mind knows it needs. The touch, the smells, the sounds, and the tastes are all of equal importance to the whole experience."

My body shivered as he stroked me while he spoke. His fingers ran up and down my spine. His hands caressed the insides of my thighs. His lips lightly touched the back of my neck. I thought about the times I had made love to a woman and realized that there was much I could have learned in that regard from this man. His touch sent slivers of static dancing across my skin. I became completely relaxed, enjoying the ecstasy of feeling like I was desirable, wanted, and appreciated.

"We are going to go upstairs now. I have a special room. You mentioned that you had enjoyed being whipped by your wife. I am going to make you experience how a whip can make you reach sexual heights you have never dreamed possible."

He stepped in front of me, reached back with his hands and, taking mine, led me carefully upstairs. We walked into a room where he left me standing for a few minutes, wondering where he had gone. Then, I he placed something soft around each of my wrists bringing them together. I heard a "snap" as he tightened the cuffs. He lifted my arms above my head and secured them to something above.

"Spread your legs a little," he ordered. Then, as he gently caressed my back he told me to relax.

I admit I was as tight as a drum. Between my fear of being hurt and my worry that he would leave whip marks that I would not be able to hide from my wife, I was trembling all over.

"Relax, my sweet," he purred into my ear. He continued to touch me, kissing my neck and caressing my sides.

Eventually, I did relax. I felt so safe with him. Even though I was naked with my hands dangling above my head, I began to feel total trust in this man. After all, a man that was going to hurt me could not be so tender, could he?

As my body relaxed, he backed away from me. Then, I felt the first touch of the whip. It was just a caress. He dragged the leather tails of the whip across my shoulders, down my back, and across my buttocks. He slipped it up between my legs, sliding across my balls as it slipped up through the crack of my ass. Then, ever so gently, he swished the whip in a slow arc across my back. It almost felt like a soft hand was brushing against me. I was so relieved that he was not stinging me with his stroke that I relaxed even further, enjoying each swish of the mighty whip.

It must have been a fairly large whip, nothing like the little toy I had purchased with my wife. I could feel the weight of the tails as they fell upon my skin.

He continued to stroke me. Each swish was just slightly heavier than one previous. He was focusing on my lower back and the top of my buttocks. I could feel the skin slowly warming. I imagined that it must be glowing a bright pink by now. Yet, there was no pain at all. Just a warm cozy feeling.

He then extended his area of focus up my back. Knowing the skin was virgin to the touch of the leather, he would start the procedure all over again - barely touching my skin in the new area until it had warmed up to the touch of the leather. With every other gentle stroke he would keep the previous area warm with a harder stroke.

Soon my entire back and shoulders had felt the warmth of his administrations. He focused then on my bottom, that most sensitive of skin. There, he caressed me even more softly. The leather had become moist with my perspiration and felt heavier as a result. For every two soft strokes on my bum, he would fire a firm stroke across my back or shoulders. There was a bit of a sting there now, each one building upon the other.

I was in another world. I was no longer standing naked in a stranger's room with my hands above my head. I was floating on a sea of water with little fish nibbling at my back.

Eventually my buttocks were as desensitized as my back and he started stroking each moon of my butt with a firm slash. Though my backside was the focus of his attentions, my entire body was sweating from the heat. I could hear myself moaning, though it was as if it were by someone else in some other room. I lost track of the time, as I had lost track of my thoughts. I could only think about anticipating each new stroke. I was not sure if I was anticipating it with pleasure or pain, because both had become one to me now.

He continued to whip me now with abandon. He knew that he had brought me into another world, and that each stroke only spurred me on to desire the next.

Eventually, I lost all sense of where I was. I had not passed out, but it was if I were in some sort of a coma. My mind and my body had separated with only a single thread joining them together. My legs had buckled under me and my full weight was suspended on the whatever was tied to the cuffs on my wrists.

Each stroke of the mighty whip was now to be reckoned with. I fleetingly thought about the marks the whip would leave but no longer cared. My body was his to tamper with. My skin was his skin. My soul was his soul.

I don't even know how it happened, but I found myself in his arms, being carried to the bed. He laid me down gently on my belly, with my flaccid cock pointing up and pressed under my belly. He began soothing me by gliding his hands across my hot skin. After awhile, he started massaging me with some cream. At first, I thought it was some sort of cold cream, but after a few seconds I realized that he was rubbing in some sort of hot liniment! It intensified the heat. If he had an egg I was sure it could have fried on my back it felt so very hot!

Then, as he continued massaging the liquid down my back, the area left exposed to the air really did feel like it was cooling off. It was only an illusion. The heat from the beating combined with the scorching of the chemicals combined. It was so hot that it actually felt cold. Obviously, my senses had gone into overdrive.

Finally, he had covered my ass with the hot liquid. I groaned and moaned. I could not have uttered a word had I wanted to.

All the while he was massaging me he told me how well I had done. He told me what a good boy I had been, how pleased he was with me, how good it felt for him to have me under his control.

As I lay there in my fugue, I felt happy. I had pleased him. He had used me. I was his.

He started caressing the inside of my crack and I felt my cock twinge. It had been rock hard when he had first cuffed my hands but I lost track of when the blood had stopped engorging it. The blood was moving in fast now though, as his finger touched up on my sphincter. The remnants of the hot oil were still on his fingertips and my ass started pulsing from the unexpected feeling.

I heard him walk to an adjoining bathroom where he washed his hands. This time, when he returned, his fingers were covered in some cream that really was cool to the touch. He did not want to touch the areas that were still covered by the hot oil, so he placed his finger right on my hole. It slipped in with ease as he had just the right angle of penetration.

I lay there in total bliss.

My cock was throbbing under my belly. I knew then why he had been so careful to point it up as it was pressed tightly under my weight.

"Your ass is mine, my little bitch," he said.

He really started to finger fuck me then. The sensations of the whipping combined with the heat of whatever the lotion was that he had rubbed in me made be all but oblivious to anything else but the new sensations of his intrusion. My sphincter literally pulsated around his well-lubed finger. He made love to me with that finger. He was spreading me so lovingly, I could not tell if he was using one finger or two. All I knew was that it was the best feeling I had ever experienced. I love the feel of him inside me. I kept thinking how wonderful it would be if he would get on top of me and penetrate me with that cock that had filled up my throat so thoroughly the day before. My own cock was as hard and as hot as a plutonium rod being pushed into a nuclear reactor. I could feel the sheets beneath me getting wet from my pre-cum.

He continued to finger me for a long time. I could have laid there forever. Going back to work was the furthest thing from my mind.

His breathing started getting pretty rough, so I knew he was getting as much pleasure as he was giving me.

Was it supposed to work this way? I thought that BDSM was supposed to be about the Master getting his jollies through the control of his slave. This scene seemed to be more of the Master getting his pleasure from the pleasure he was giving me. Perhaps I was not supposed to be the one enjoying this so much?

In my blindness, I had not realized that he had taken his clothes off. I knew it the instant I felt the heat and sweat of his body as he got on top of me. He started rubbing his massive cock against my ass. Inside my addled head, I pleaded with him to push it into my now fully extended anus. I wanted him so badly. I needed him inside me.

Then, without explanation, he got off the bed and moved so that his head was parallel with my head.

"Suck it," he said hoarsely.

I turned my head and opened my mouth.

He must have been more than ready, or perhaps he was aware that our two hours were almost done, because after a few short strokes into my mouth, he pulled out and sprayed his hot semen all over my face. As before, it was a torrent that felt like a damn had opened onto my face. How could one man have so much cum?

I laid there with my mouth open and he continued to spray both inside and outside my mouth. I swallowed as I could, wishing that I could swallow while keeping my mouth open. I was missing too much.

Eventually the flood subsided. He rubbed his spent, but still hard, cock all over my face soaking up the cum that covered me like a mask. Then he pushed the tasty member back into my mouth. I suckled on it like a baby on a teat.

After awhile, he lay back on the bed, coming from behind. We lay together like spoons as his cock pushed up against the crack of my ass and I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck. We were like two longtime lovers and I felt so totally safe in his embrace.

Reluctantly, he got up. "It's time for you to go."

Without removing my blindfold, he directed me to the bathroom where he first scooped up whatever cum was still dripping off my face and pushed in into my mouth. Then he wetted a facecloth with hot water and cleaned me up.

I was not sure if there were things in that room that he did not want me to see. All I knew is that he kept the blindfold as he again lead me out of the room with his hands behind him to hold mine and direct my movements. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, he removed my blindfold.

My clothes were still lying at the front door. As I put them on, he said to me in almost a whisper, "That was one of the best experiences I have had with a boy. I want you to come back again as soon as you can."

I don't know if he meant what he said, but I can attest that it simply WAS the best sexual experience I had EVER had. I wanted more. No. I wanted more and more and more! How could I go back to my wife and have ordinary sex with her again? I knew that from that moment, I would always think of him when I was fucking my wife.

How I sat down when I got back to work, I will never know. I can tell you that I barely moved a muscle. My whole backside remained hot for the rest of the afternoon.

I was amazed that, when I checked myself in the mirror upon returning home, there was not a mark on me.

Well, at least not on my body.