Previously
Caine and Josh have begun their shared life as Keyholder and Charge. Caine has articulated, without ambiguity, what the role demands—submission, denial, sacrifice, and pain—and Josh has embraced those terms willingly, committing himself to the path Caine has set before him.
Chapter 8
The next few months were a blissful rhythm of intense litigation and passionate copulation.
As a courtroom team, Caine and Josh were on fire. At home, the formalization of Josh’s role as Caine’s Charge relieved an uncertainty about his relationship with Caine. When Caine committed to their relationship, a distraction was removed from Josh’s life he didn’t even realize existed. Caine’s pledge to him—both professionally and personally—allowed every ounce of Josh’s professional energy to be dedicated to the firm. In the office, Josh was Caine’s highly competent lieutenant and at home he was his subservient Charge. And every day Josh grew more certain both were positions of strength, not weakness.
Caine and Josh finished each other’s sentences, developed strategies from different angles ensuring nothing was overlooked, and won every case they were assigned. Within the firm, they were frequently cited as the successful model for the Mentor/Mentee program, often described as the “Dream Team”.
Their home life was even better if that were possible. Josh continually found new ways to pleasure his Master, each of them more thrilling that the last.
As routine set in—in the best possible way—two things emerged, one inevitable, the other Josh never saw coming.
What Josh never saw coming….
Early on, while planning an upcoming weekend, Caine awkwardly shared that he’d like to attend mass Sunday morning. Josh was naturally surprised given Caine had never mentioned organized religion or even spirituality.
After some uncomfortable prodding, Caine admitted that, in fact, he considered himself somewhat religious and was a practicing Catholic. The admission hit Josh like a ton of bricks, but not for any reason Caine could’ve seen coming. Caine, having been raised in a strict Catholic household, revered the ceremony and rituals of the faith. The smell of incense, the sound of a monk’s choir, the soaring gothic architecture of the church he attended. It wasn’t so much his adherence to the faith itself; in fact, he could’ve found many of those attributes in other faiths. But being a Catholic, with all the ritual that implied, was in his DNA. As Caine revealed this unknown fact about himself, Josh remained uncharacteristically quiet, asking few questions, and simply taking it all in.
That Sunday (after his morning blow job), Josh attended mass with Caine and, afterward, remained quiet about the overall topic of religion, the Catholic faith, even the service they’d just attended.
By this time in their relationship, Caine knew something was “off” and approached Josh cautiously. Josh said little at brunch after mass or on the ride home. Caine knew to give him space but also hated to see Josh suffering in silence. When they returned home, Caine did something he’d rarely done before, but knew it was important. He kicked off his shoes, sprawled out on the couch and motioned for Josh to join him there, “Get over here mate, your Daddy needs a hug”.
Caine knew full well that it was Josh who needed a hug and when Josh just stood and stared, motionless, Caine repeated, this time more forcefully, “Now, Josh” and opened his arms invitingly. Josh kicked off his shoes and, with some trepidation, lowered himself into Caine allowing himself to be embraced into his massive wingspan.
Caine let him nestle in comfortably before he began.
Wrapping his arms around him, he asked in his charming Aussie accent, “So mate, what’s bothering you?”
“Nothing!” Josh barked, obviously rattled.
Caine just let it sit. After a few moments of silence, he asked, “You sure? It seems like something’s eating at you.”
Josh didn’t answer, which was an answer in and of itself.
Caine took the opportunity to squeeze him harder, saying without words, “I’m here for you.”
Josh spoke back by burrowing into Caine as he held him, wordlessly replying, “Just hold me, I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”
Caine wrapped his legs around him now too, creating a protective cocoon around his boy.
Silence. Not the deafening kind; the reassuring kind. The kind they both knew that whatever needed to be said would be said, in its own time.
After what felt like an eternity, Josh craned his neck to look up to Caine, and asked, “If I tell you, do you promise not to make fun of me? Or worse, hate me?”
Caine tightened his hold on him and replied, “Little Man, there’s nothing you could tell me that would cause me to do either.”
Josh smiled just a bit and responded, “You’re sure of that, Old Man?”
Returning his smile, he said quietly, “I promise.”
“It was the church thing”, Josh choked out.
“The church thing? That I go to church?”
Another long pause as Josh tried to find the right words. “No, not that, but it’s what church, does to me. Especially Catholic church.”
Caine tightened up, assuming this it had to do with the Catholic clergy abuse scandal. Trying to remain calm, he squeezed him again and gently asked, “Were you abused?”
“NO”, Josh answered quickly. But what I have to tell you may be even more….troubling”.
Now totally confused, Caine let it sit and merely answered, “Whatever it is, Little Man, you can tell me.”
Half smiling, Josh repeated, “Promise you won’t think badly of me? Think I’m weird?”
Shaking his head in confusion, Caine responded, “I promise”
“Ok, so here goes…” Josh sat up and crossed his legs so he could face Caine and look him in the eye. “My father converted to Catholicism when he moved to America. We went to Mass every Sunday and I went to Catholic school.”
He paused, took a deep breath, and continued.
Becoming more awkward, Josh went on, “When I got to adolescence…when my hormones kicked in….I’d look at Jesus on the crucifix….wearing just that loin cloth that barely covered him….and…..and…” he looked down at his lap and trailed off.
Caine started to reply, but Josh cut him off, “…I’d stare and fantasize. I’d get hard. I wondered what that would be like. To be stripped…and tortured. I’d look for paintings where he was getting whipped. Where his…loin cloth was nearly falling off. And I’d masturbate to them….
“And then there was this other saint. I did some research and found out his name was St. Sebastian. He was tied to a post with his hands behind his back, shot full or arrows. Draped in something that looked like a white towel that was falling off. It was so…erotic. It looked almost….like he was getting off on it.”
“So when I’d stub my toe or hurt myself like kids do every day, my father would tell me to ‘offer it up to Jesus’ and compare the insignificance of my pain to what Jesus endured for me. My mind would go right to where it wasn’t supposed to….Jesus, flogged and sweating, with a washcloth barely hanging from his hips. I’d pray it would slip off him some day…”
He continued, finally unloading years of self-loathing, “It’s so shameful for me. Coming to grips, first with being gay, then with being submissive, and to top it off I’m getting off on paintings of saints and Christ himself being tortured. I’m gonna die and go straight to hell”, he half laughed now.
Caine, still not knowing what to say simply pulled him back into his embrace, letting Josh continue. “And then, when I’d go to Mass every Sunday, I’d fantasize about the priests being nude under their vestments and wondered if they’d been tortured too, and it would make me hard. Every time I witness a religious ritual now, I go there. I can’t help myself…I’m so disgusting…” and Josh finally broke. He dropped his head again and began to weep quietly.
Caine, held him close and said the only thing he knew to say, “Little Man, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Sexual attraction is just what it is. Everyone experiences it differently, and, just so you know, the St. Sebastian painting you’re talking about is widely recognized as homo-erotic. In fact, there are many art scholars who’ve written papers on the homo-eroticism of the crucifix, St. Sebastion, and others. You’re not alone.”
Josh’s head popped up, “Are you kidding me? People have written about this?”
“Hell yes!” Caine replied. “I’ve read a bunch of articles about it, and, frankly, I think those paintings are pretty hot too. I’ve fantasized about the one doing the whipping,” he smiled.
“So I’m not a freak?” Josh nearly yelled.
“Oh, you’re a freak, but you’re my freak, my one-and-only, sexy, submissive freak.”
“Oh, Jesus”, Josh said as he melted back into Caine’s arms. “Thank you Sir. I was afraid of what you’d think of me.”
“Oh, here’s what I think of you…” he smiled “…that I’m going to dress like Pontius Pilate when it’s time for your first whipping.”
“Oh….fuck….” Josh groaned in relief.
“That’s exactly the plan, Little Man”, Caine said as he pushed Josh on his back and pulled him into a passionate kiss.
The other development that emerged that didn’t catch Josh by surprise: “Rule # 5. Corporal Punishment Will Be Expected. Sometimes punitive, sometime indulgent. You will find it rewarding.” Josh knew it was just a matter of time and anticipated it with equal parts dread and eagerness.
The events of that Sunday after church were fortuitous in that Caine had been pondering exactly how to introduce Josh to this rule which would be an integral component of their sexual life.
Now was that time.
One Friday night shortly after Josh shared his “religious revelation”, Josh laid in Caine’s arms after a particularly robust fuck, content with how he’d satisfied his Master.
Sensing Josh wasn’t ready to drift off to sleep, Caine gave him a squeeze and asked, “What you thinkin’ Little Man?”
“How do you know I’m thinking about anything, Old Man?” he smiled.
“Your Daddy always knows….” he responded with authority.
Josh sighed and smiled, “Fuck, you know me too well.”
“So, spit it out”
Josh took a deep breath, and with his exhale asked the question, “Remember the talk we had about religion? Jesus? The crucifix?” he asked.
“Yes….?” Caine answered with growing curiosity.
“I think I’m ready,” Josh murmured.
“I think you are too”, Caine added without hesitation. “In fact, you’re overdue, but you have to want this. You don’t know how much you need it. How much we both need it.”
Josh gulped, “When?” he dared to ask.
“Tomorrow night.” Caine responded. “I suspected this was coming and reserved the space, just in case. Jason is on hold too.”
“Jason?” Josh asked, surprised.
“Yes, Jason, our personal trainer, he’s the one who administers punishment to the Charges. He’s experienced and knows how far to push. But I’ll be there every step of the way.”
Josh shivered with equal parts dread and excitement, pressing his body into Caine’s, who took notice of his still hard cock, and said, “I won’t disappoint you, Sir”.
“I know you won’t mate. I know.”
Given what had gone down, Josh wasn’t surprised when Jason joined Caine and he at dinner. Although completely devoted to Caine, Josh secretly had a bit of a crush on Jason. His devilish good looks and his unapologetically slutty gym wear was hard to ignore. Peering at him now across the table with knowledge that he, in Caine’s words, “is the one who administers punishment to the Charges” elevated the thrill and anxiety of the dinner 10x fold. Josh interpreted every word out of Jason’s mouth…”strength”…”endurance”…”tolerance”…as euphemisms for the pain he would later endure. The thought made him simultaneously frightened and horny as hell. Rule # 6—being shared—even crossed his mind. He gave it a fleeting thought, glanced at Jason, and felt the blood rush to his cock.
At the end of dinner, Caine put down his fork, took his last sip of wine, turned to Josh and said, “Let’s get upstairs and get you ready”, and then turned to Jason and said, “We’ll meet you in The Chapel in 30 minutes”.
“The Chapel?’ Josh thought to himself. WTF?
In their apartment while Josh was cleaning “inside and out”, Caine methodically dressed, looked in the mirror and was satisfied. Then he set aside Josh’s miniscule apparel for the event. He’d given it a lot of thought; it wasn’t just clothing; it was Josh’s fantasy. He’d given it a lot of thought and felt he owed it to Josh to make it a reality.
Josh emerged from the steaming bathroom in just a towel and saw Caine in full leather gear. He’d never seen him like this. Leather harness and jockstrap with a pull-away pouch, boots, biker cap, leather armband on left arm, leather wristbands and aviator sunglasses. Josh was torn between the eroticism of the vision, and the inevitably of what it represented. But he knew better to comment on it. He looked down, and said, “I’m ready, Sir.”
Caine said nothing. He simply looked down to the bed where there laid Josh’s garment for the night. “This is what you’ll wear”, he said authoritatively.
Josh walked over to pick up what was nothing but a sheer, white strip of fabric, roughly the size of a small towel. Looking to Caine for clarification, he responded, “Wrap it around you and tie it on the side. That’s all you’ll need.” The imagery was inescapable. It was a modern-day version of what Jesus had worn. Tiny, nearly transparent, and unquestionably erotic.
Josh looked to Caine as if to ask, “Really sir, do I have to”. In an uncharacteristically terse tone, Caine responded, “Don’t fuck with me. We both know you do.” Josh lowered his head, knowing Caine was right. Just holding it in his hand made him hard.
Josh went into the bathroom and tentatively wrapped it around him, leaving him draped in what could only be described as a sheer white loin cloth. It had no waistband or lining, leaving Josh easily exposed. He looked in the mirror, and the shameful fantasies of his youth came flooding back.
He stepped back into the bedroom continuing to look awkwardly looking at the floor. Caine marched up to him, placed both hands on either side of his face and looked him in the eye, “You. Look. So. Fucking. Sexy”, he spit out. “I may have to take you right here and now.”
Nearing tears, Josh asked, “Really Sir? You’re not doing this to humiliate me, are you?”
Caine smiled and answered, “Humiliate you? If People Magazine saw you now, you’d beat Jesus himself out for Sexiest Man Alive. And when Jason sees you, you’re going to get 10 extra lashes just for being you.”
It wasn’t lost on either of them that Josh’s meager cock created a massive tent under his loin cloth that was impossible to ignore.
Josh thought they were ready to walk out the door when Caine confronted him with yet another surprise, “Sit down…there’s one more thing I need to tell you before we go upstairs. And, given your feelings about religion, it’s important you know.”
Looking alarmed, Josh thought the worst.
“I saw you flinch when I told Jason we’d meet him in The Chapel. Do you know what I was referring to?”
“No Sir,” Josh answered honestly, “But it sure caught my attention.”
“As you know, tonight is your initiation into Rule #5 – Corporal punishment. Given its importance in the lives of the Charges, we have a special place set aside for that. Most would refer to it as a dungeon. Ours is anything but.” He paused, and then continued. “This building was originally built as a men’s club and residence by a very religious businessman, a Catholic in fact. He designed the top floor as a chapel. Obviously now the space is used…” here he cleared his throat…”quite differently, but its former use is inescapable, and given your past feelings about religious rituals….well, I just thought you should know. I’ve avoided this word, but you should know that here at The Keyholders Club, the space where punishment is administered is known as ‘The Chapel’.
Josh looked at him stunned. Was this a joke or his ultimate wet dream? He’d find out soon. His first serious BDSM experience would be in a church turned into a dungeon? Dressed like Jesus on the cross? About to be punished by a BDSM expert who bore a striking resemblance to a devilishly handsome Satan? He was overwhelmed with curiosity, fear, and lust. He was overwh unable to speak, so simply nodded, surrendering himself to Caine.
Caine handed him a thick terry bathrobe and said, “Let’s go meet your maker.”
What a pair the two of them made. Caine looking like he stepped out of a Tom of Finland calendar and his strikingly handsome young Japanese companion, clad only in a bathrobe. Fortunately, there was a separate elevator that serviced only the top floor, where The Chapel was located so they’d have privacy as they ascended.
As they entered the elevator, Josh noticed for the first time an unmarked button at the top. Caine put his hand up to it, and before pressing, said, “This will take us to The Chapel, and when we arrive, the doors will open directly into it, so when I press this button, there will be no turning back. Shall I press it?”
Josh defiantly reached for Caine’s hand, pushed it away, and pressed the button himself.
The elevator crawled to its destination and Caine added, “Oh…one more thing…” realizing he was piling on.
“Sir?” Josh replied, not imagining what had been left unsaid.
“Rule #6.”
Typically these pop quizzes caught Josh unprepared, but this time he was ready, “Rule #6. On occasion my Master may share me and I will comply willingly.” After spending dinner with the both Caine and Jason, and knowing what would likely follow, ‘complying’ would not be an issue for Josh.
“Good boy”, Caine replied as the elevator doors slid open revealing what was the single most incongruent vision imaginable.
He had to take it in in layers. First there was the soaring architecture of a traditional gothic church. Towering stone columns rising into ribbed vaults made more dramatic by the evening uplighting. The space felt both monumental and uplifting, designed to inspire awe, humility, and wonder all at once. Why The Club referred to it as “The Chapel” was beyond him as it looked more like a medieval cathedral.
Once Josh had absorbed the grandeur of the space, his focus shifted its actual use. As if deliberately mocking Josh’s Catholic fetish, the old floor plan still traced the shape of a crucifix. However, a suspension bar now hovered where the main altar once stood, its metal gleaming beneath the vaulted ceiling; a leather sling occupied the left transept, while a fuck bench claimed the right with unapologetic bluntness. The sacred geometry remained intact, but its purpose had been decisively rewritten.
Along the stone walls, the ceremonial objects had been replaced with instruments of cruelty. A well-worn St. Andrew’s Cross stood where a saint might once have been venerated, its scarred surface a testament to repetition rather than ritual. Handcuffs waited in neat, indifferent rows, chains spilled down from the beams like industrial vines, and every imaginable implement of BDSM was displayed with the same frankness once reserved for candles and icons.
Finally, after digesting the magnificence of the space contrasted with its dungeon-like utility, Josh spotted Jason standing under the suspension bar on the elevated main altar—steadfast, authoritative, and foreboding…waiting with his legs spread. Dressed like Caine’s evil twin, he wore a leather vest revealing pierced nipples, leather chaps showcasing his massive cock standing firm in its leather cock ring, boots, topped off with a threatening dungeon half hood. A crop rested loosely in one gloved hand, leather creaking as he smiled with calm, practiced certainty—every inch of him signaling control, inevitability, and the pleasure he took in both.
“It’s time, Little Man”, Caine whispered, and, placing his hand on Josh’s lower back, he walked him up what had been the church’s main aisle. Josh was overwhelmed; he could barely breathe and certainly was unable to speak, so he obediently followed Caine up to the altar where Jason waited.
“I deliver young Josh to you Sir Jason”, Caine declared with a formality that sent shivers through ‘young Josh’.
Jason nodded, then turned to Josh and asked gravely, “Do you know why you’re here?”
Josh’s heart pounded so hard he could barely speak, but he was able to eke out, “Yes, Sir.”
Then Caine stepped between them and started speaking the words he had been prepared to say for a very long time.
“Josh, you were not brought here because you are weak, you were brought here because you have shown me you’re capable of surrender.”
“The world teaches men like you to protect yourself, to flinch from pain. But you’re learning that instinct keeps people small. Here, you will do the opposite. Here, you give yourself—to me—deliberately. You will endure what others spend their lives avoiding.”
Josh lowered his eyes.
“Pain and punishment are not chaos,” Caine continued. “They are structure. They are language. You have been given a gift...the gift to appreciate pain. To use it to make you stronger. When you bear it, you are telling me “I trust you, and I know you will not waste what I give.”
“You submit because submission strips away pretense. It leaves only truth. In suffering, you are not diminished—you are made precise. Every sensation, every act of obedience, is a way of shaping yourself into something honest. Of offering yourself to me.”
Jason’s voice softened, but did not lose its authority.
“You offer yourself so that I may stand complete—and in that offering, you discover who you are, and you make me whole.”
Caine turned back to Jason and let him continue,
“Josh, do you submit to your Master, willingly? If you cannot give yourself to your Master, then you do not belong on this altar.”
Josh, nearly paralyzed with fear and anticipation, could barely choke out the words, “Yes, Sir”
Caine responded with the two magic words, “Good boy.”
It was time.
-To be continued-
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