0 comments/ 64952 views/ 7 favorites Lash's New Lover Ch. 01 By: adoration Author's note: those readers of the Peeing on the Peeper series will recognise the Leather Man character from one of its chapters. In that story the Leather Man was not allowed his wicked ways with the Peeper, so I've created a story especially for him. * The phone rang in my office and since my useless assistant was on one of his two-hour fuckin' lunch breaks, I answered it: "Hi, Domestic Dungeons, no torture chamber too bizarre, how can I help?" The response came from one of those dark brown voices that you just know belongs to a big guy with a big cock. "Hi, this is Big Daddy callin', and I wanna see someone about installin' some equipment in my games room," said the Dark Brown Voice. "Hi Big Daddy, you're talkin' to the Leather Man," I told him, "how's it hangin'?" A deep chuckle. "Fuckin' great," he laughed, "but I've got myself a new boy, just 19 and he's into the submissive stuff, so I thought I'd entertain him with something nice for our little room down in the basement." I chuckled back. "You're spoilin' that boy, Big Daddy. Gimme an address and I'm on my way." Big Daddy turned out to live in Long Beach, so I left a note on the door for my fuckin' free-loadin' assistant and locked up the premises. I hopped into the AC Cobra, and hit the San Diego Freeway by the Santa Monica Airport turn-off. Now I'm a tall (six foot), dark-haired 50-year-old but I keep a body builder's physique and I'm hung with a meaty enough seven-inch, uncut cock. And I don't care what you think about my little Cobra, it'll pull your heap of shit off any day. I've been in the dungeon business in LA for 10 years now, and you'd be amazed at some of the stories I could tell about Hollywood's rich and famous and what sorts of fun and games they get up in the privacy of their mansions. There's one little lady, you'd swear butter wouldn't melt in her mouth who's got – oops, professional discretion forbids me. Sorry, but that's gotta be another story. I wheeled into Big Daddy's drive, and knocked on his door. I was right – Big Daddy was big, well over my height, about my age and he was black. I assumed the other part of my thoughts about him were correct, too! "Leather Man," he said, shakin' my hand in a vice-like grip, "love the Cobra. How much?" "It's a '67 model and it set me back more than $100 thou," I told him, and I'm sorry but the pride in my voice always comes out when I talk about my little darlin'. If you've ever driven one, you'll know (a) it's American and (b) it leaves all that Ferrari and Porsche fuckin' crap for dead. "Hey man," grinned Big Daddy, "there must be money in the dungeon business!" "You'd be surprised," I smiled. "Now, show me the games room and tell me what you want." Big Daddy led me down into the basement of his beautifully appointed home. "Hey," I said, as he took me through the house, "I don't know 'bout the dungeon business, but your line of work must be pretty darned lucrative!" Big Daddy laughed: "Sometimes it pays huge – I'm a professional poker player." "Remind me never to sit down at a table with you, Big Daddy," I joked. "Right on," said Big Daddy, "I'd hate for you to lose that lovely little Cobra to something like a straight flush." Beneath the house he ushered me into a smallish room. It was kinda sweet, though. On the wall hung a lovely leather lash and a paddle. There was a couch and a couple of easy chairs, a small fridge and a drinks cabinet. The floor was covered in some deep rubber material. "This isn't very big," I said. "What's the boy into, Big Daddy?" "He's a spankin' freak and he loves electro torture, Leather Man," he told me. "Everyone calls me Lash," I said. "He sounds kinda cute." "Let me whistle him down," said Big Daddy, who went to the door and bellowed "Slut Boy, get your cute little arse down here, on the double". I still don't know what I was expectin', but Slut Boy took my breath away! For starters he was naked! He was about five nine, five 10, with lovely fair blonde, surfer boy hair, quite long like those fuckin' surfers wear it. Deep blue eyes, with muscles that betrayed hours spent pumpin' iron. And hung! He had a totally shaved crotch region to display a magnificent uncut cock, eight inches at least by my reckonin' and when it comes to cocks I'm pretty good at reckonin'. It was hangin' in semi-stiffness and beneath it a large pair of balls were bunched in a tight lookin' testicle bag. "Slut Boy, this here's Lash, he's going to provide me with something to help increase your pleasure down here," said Big Daddy. "Say hello to him, boy, don't be shy!" Slut Boy's cheeks reddened, then he spoke: "Hello, Master Lash." "Oh fuck, he's a fuckin' Limey!" I gasped. "Yeah," laughed Big Daddy, "ain't he just the fuckin' cutest thing you've ever seen." "No denyin' that, Big Daddy," I replied. "Now, to your requirements. Lissen, I'm not into the rip off business, I'll give it to you straight." "Just the way I like it, Lash," said Big Daddy, and he wasn't makin' a fuckin' joke, either. "Way I see it," I said, "you wanna play paddlin' games and some electro torture with Slut Boy, here. Which is fine, 'cos it don't take up much room. "What I suggest is our portable floggin' frame. Not too expensive, will stand in the middle of the room, can be pushed away to one side when you've got company. Easy to use, but smart-lookin'. How's that sound?" Big Daddy looked pleased. "Talk money to me, Lash," he said, with one of those looks that wouldn't have indicated whether he was holdin' four aces or jack high. Shit, I'd hate to play poker with the prick! "We do a nice little frame that'll suit Slut Boy to perfection," I said. "It's yours for $995, or I could give you a discount." He eyed me and smiled. "What would a discount involve, Lash?" he asked. I grinned – oh, OK, I leered – and looked at Slut Boy. Big Daddy laughed: "Sure, what will Slut Boy goin' down on you get me off the floggin' frame, Lash?" "I'll let you have it for $900," I said, which is my base price, anyway. "On your knees, Slut Boy," ordered Big Daddy and I unzipped my black leather jeans and plopped out the seven inches. Big Daddy eyed me, said "Nice", though I'm sure he was jus' bein' diplomatic and walked out. Slut Boy crawled over and took my helmet in his lovely young mouth and started to suck me. Shit, he was good! His tongue flickered over my piss-slit, then drank down some of my pre-cum, which had been collectin' since he'd walked through the door! Soon he had me at what the jet jockeys in the airlines call "past the point of no return" and I felt a sudden surge in my balls, which switched swiftly to my shaft, then exploded into his eager young mouth. He swallowed me down, like a good slut should, then licked and laved around my cock tip till I was nicely cleaned up down there. Upstairs, I handed Big Daddy my callin' card, accepted his cheque, told him the floggin' frame would be delivered as soon as the cheque cleared and climbed into the Cobra. Then I thought no more about it. About a week later on a hot California afternoon, I was readin' the LA Times, which had some cock and bull story about how the fuckin' Angels were going to buy big to make the World Series next year. Fuckin' Angels, why do I support 'em? Then the phone rang. I went through the "Domestic Dungeons, no torture too bizarre" crap and then felt a jolt which went straight to my cock! "Hello, Mr Lash," came the unmistakeable honeyed tones of Slut Boy, Big Daddy's toy boy! "Hi, Slut Boy," I said, as calmly as I could. "Don't tell me the fuckin' floggin' frame's no good!" "No, it's lovely Mr Lash," said the sweet-talkin' slave. "It's just that I thought I'd call you and say how much fun I have in it when Big Daddy's in a masterful mood." "Glad to hear it, Slut Boy," I said, then the Englishman's next sentence sent me straight to heaven! "I was just wondering if you'd like to pop in and let me show you how much I enjoy it," said Slut Boy. Then I steadied myself. "Now hold on, Slut Boy," I said, as paternally as I could muster through my excitement, "no way I'd like to be pissin' off Big Daddy. Much as I'd like to see ya, but I don't think pissin' off Big Daddy would be a good move, career-wise." Slut Boy giggled. "Big Daddy flew to Paris this afternoon for a big poker tournament. I'm all alone. Would you like to make me a little less lonely, Mr Lash?" The AC Cobra ate up the miles from Santa Monica to Long Beach. I musta broke records gettin' there! The door opened instantly on my knock, and there was Slut Boy, wearin' a pair of open-fronted black PVC humiliation pants, his lovely eight inches standin' to obedient attention! I grabbed him, pushed the door shut behind me with the heel of one of my cowboy boots, and kissed him roughly on the mouth, running my fingers through his corn-gold hair, my free hand stroking his stiffy. "I've locked the house," he whispered in my ear, "let's go!" Downstairs I found the Domestic Dungeons De Luxe Floggin' Frame standing in pride of place in the center of the games room. In a flash I was out of my shirt, jeans, boots, sox and – finally my black leather thong, my seven inches of uncut meat standing up to greet Slut Boy! We embraced, our cocks and balls mingling in their first intimate contact, then I looked at Slut Boy and decided to play the boss role. "On your knees on the chair, boy," I commanded, and Slut Boy climbed onto the seat of the leather easy chair, his knees just inside the sides, his balls dangling heavy and dark, his anus peeping to me. I knelt and licked his little love bud, depositing some spittle there, then stood and placed my dripping cock head to his anus. Slowly, carefully, I drove up him, feeling him sigh as he relaxed beneath my urging, insistent cock. My hands came round, one cupping his balls, the other stroking on his turgid shaft, pulling the foreskin back an inch or two, then releasing it back to cover his helmet, then back again. It was drivin' me wild, I don't know about him! Soon the urge to pump my spunk into his deepest recesses began to rise, but I resisted the pressure, and pulled from his arse. "Sit down now, Slut Boy," I whispered, hardly hoping to dare he would, but he plonked his cute arse down on the leather, looked at my cock, the foreskin now pulled back from the helmet to the ring. Slut Boy licked his lips, then took me in his mouth and grabbed my buttocks, pulling me into him. "Oh shit, Slut Boy, you've got me, hot fuckin' damn you've got me," I yelled, then shot my jism into his gorgeous mouth. I staggered back from the chair, collapsed on the couch and asked: "Beer in the fridge, Slut Boy?" He nodded: "Heineken or Budweiser, master?" I laughed: "I'm an American and I drive an AC fuckin' Cobra, Slut Boy. What the fuck do you think?" Slurping on the Bud, I gathered from the still stiff-pricked Slut Boy that Big Daddy had won him in a poker game at an exclusive London gambling club from his English master. Slut Boy was, apparently, on a six-months loan. I stood and eyed the floggin' frame, gleamin' in the harsh basement lighting. The chrome metal posts which stood eight feet in height, beneath the cross bar which was four feet wide, looked lonely as if it was missin' somethin'. I decided to add Slut Boy to it! "OK, Slut Boy," I said, after draining the Bud, "time to see how much you enjoy it in the floggin' frame. Ready to go?" The cute blonde nodded eagerly, and I fitted him into the straps, attachin' his ankles first. Then I put his wrists in the upper pair of straps and adjusted the runners inserted into the side posts. This had the effect of dragging on Slut Boy's torso and forced him into a tip toe stance. Fuck, he looked cute! I then selected the floggin' paddle from the wall. I decided against the lash, although I'd have preferred it, but since I didn't want Big Daddy noticin' any stripe marks on his boy's back, I went for the paddle. Made of semi-stiff leather, it was a foot long, excluding the handle, and about four inches wide. I've used heavier duty floggers on my little subbies, but I had no doubt it would perform perfectly adequately. I stepped behind the blonde's gorgeously proportioned back and stared at his buns. "Right boy," I told him, "I'm gonna give you a floggin' now and it's gonna come in 10-stroke batches. "After each 10 strokes you're gonna thank me for the first batch, the second, the third, and so on. When you don't thank me for a batch I'll know you've reached the limit, Slut Boy." "I understand, Master Lash," he said in his oh-so-cute Limey accent. "But that don't necessarily mean I'm gonna stop, just 'cos you've had enough, 'kay, Slut Boy." I saw his lovely head bob as he nodded. Standing off to his right, I placed the paddle in my left hand, drew it back and cracked it to give him a double buttock blow, the flogger leavin' a lovely broad mark across each cheek. His buns wobbled deliciously at the leather cracked home. Fuck, I thought, I've got to get a video made of Slut Boy bein' flogged! My second stroke was a singleton, smackin' against his right cheek, only. The third was across the upper third of his cheeks, the fourth, a sweepin' uppercut stroke, hit the lower third making a fuckin' great thwock sound as it bit into him. Then I gave him the fifth across both cheeks again. For the next five, I switched the paddle to my right hand and I gave him a repetition of the first five – double cheek strike, a singleton on the left cheek, upper area, lower area, then another twin-buttock blow. "Thank you for my first batch of 10, Master Lash," said Slut Boy, in a perfectly modulated, calm voice. I dragged over a stool and sat down before the lovely sub. His cock was not fully erect, but not too darned far from it. I don't know 'bout you, but I love to flog a subby who's got a hard-on, it's just kinda erotic, so I sucked on him and soon he was displayin' a proud boner. For batch number two, I gave him five strokes on his right cheek, then alternated hands to deliver five on the left. "Thank you for my second batch of 10, Master Lash," Slut Boy said, this time his voice not quite so fuckin' steady. I was startin' to get my point across! I sucked on him again, then gave him a steady 10-stroke batch whippin' the flogger onto his beautiful buns in 10 twin-globe deliveries. This time he gasped a little, then said: "Thank you for my third batch of 10, Master Lash." But this time, there was a catch in his voice. Fuck, I'd bet myself he'd get to 100, but now I was beginnin' to have my doubts! For the fourth batch I decided to fuck with his head. There had been a certain pattern of placements for each 10-stroke batch in the first three, so for batch number four I went completely haphazard on him! The first blow was a double-banger on both cheeks, still wobblin' lusciously, but now considerably redder! Then I gave him a cut across the upper half of his arse. Next a singleton on his right cheek. Then another, then another. Next I cut into the lower half of his great arse. Then I gave him another singleton his right cheek and he let out a yelp. The last three were delivered to his previously untouched – in this batch! – left cheek. He let out a lovely sob and moaned: "Thank you for my fourth batch of 10, Master Lash." This time it took a big longer to re-erect his lovely prick, but I managed it. Slut Boy obviously got his second wind, 'cos he managed to get up to "Thank you for my ninth batch of 10, Master Lash", but after delivering strokes 91 thru 100 there was silence from the lovely naked slave, save for a slight sobbing and groaning. He'd made it to the 100 mark – and I was proud of him for it – but I knew I'd have to imprint my authority on his arse and brain. I gave him 10 more strokes, none of which were particularly heavy, but they weren't love bites, either! Then I put the paddle back on its hook and stepped to the floggin' frame. "Where's he keep the electro shocker, Slut Boy?" I demanded. "In that drawer," said the subby, in the lovely Limey accent. I walked over and checked out the dildo shaped shocker. It had an on-off switch, a low, medium and high setting. This was a new model and after two seconds the safety device in the machine would cut in and the current would stop, disablin' the implement for 20 seconds or so. Safe, sane, but capable of deliverin' quite a nice jolt. I went to Slut Boy's wrists and released the tension, bringin' him back to a feet-on-the-floor position. Have a sub too taut during electro torture and you can end up with him dislocatin' somethin'. And, call me old-fashioned, but even with these new, state-of-the-art electro shockers I'm a firm adherent of the old "nothing above the rib cage" rule. I traced the shocker over Slut Boy's chest, flickin' it against his nipples. "Now we're gonna play a little interrogation game, Slut Boy," I informed him. "I'm gonna ask you how long that little old pecker of yours is when he's angry. When you can't take any more, boy, you tell me the answer and then we can finish. Unnerstand, boy?" The blonde beauty nodded and I kissed him on his lovely tastin' mouth. "Big Daddy play with you for long with this little toy, boy?" I asked. "Sometimes an hour, or more, master," he said, in a quaverin' voice, totally unable to contain his excitement at what was to come. I pulled the stool back into position, switched the shocker on and sucked on Slut Boy's cock until it was stiffer than a board. "Now, Slut Boy," I said in my "let's be reasonable 'bout this" voice, "how long's this little prick when it's at full length?" The beautifully-spoken slave entered fully into the spirit of an interrogation: "Go fuck yourself, you cunt. No way I'm telling you!" I switched to the medium position and placed the shocker onto the helmet of his stiffness. Slut Boy gave out a yell and arched his back, his muscles strained, then he relaxed. "OK, Slut Boy," I told him, "I've got all fuckin' day. You be fuckin' stubborn, but you'll tell me, believe me, they always do!" Then I switched it to high and flicked it in a testicle traverse. "Yaaaah," Slut Boy cried, his middle thrusting in a futile strain at his bonds. "Be reasonable, Slut Boy," I said, placing the intensity switch to low and giving him a mid-shaft jolt. "Get fucked, I'm not talking," said the English subby. "You'll talk, Slut Boy, soon you'll be beggin' to tell me," I said. Then I stood and walked behind the sweet slave and placed the shocker on his left buttock and gave him a high intensity jolt. His body writhed and heaved like a wild thing. Next I gave him a high jolt on the other cheek. Another threshin' from Slut Boy. Next I placed the shocker on his lovely anus, just pushin' it on the lips, no need to push these things up arses, just on the anal mouth, that's the way to do it. "Beg me for it, Slut Boy, beg me to give you a jolt, come on, beg me!" His response was typically stiff upper lip Limey: "Get fucked, arsehole, I'm not talking. Switch your infernal machine on, see if I care!" I did, and poor old Slut Boy musta cared. His body arched and writhed and heaved. It was such a pretty sight! Anyways, I musta played with Slut Boy in this way for 45-50 minutes, I dunno, honest, I didn't have a watch on it. Then, finally, Slut Boy gave up – they always do. I'd just given him three twin-testicle traverses in a row, when he sobbed and pleaded: "All right, all right, I give in, please stop torturing me, please, please stop!" I stood and kissed him on his lovely lips. "How long?" I whispered. "Eight inches, master," he moaned, and I released him. Upstairs, we got cold Buds from the fridge, then went up to his bedroom. Sipping on the suds, stroking each others hard-ons, Slut Boy told me the story of his life – well, his adult life. Lash's New Lover Ch. 01 It seems that when he was 18, Slut Boy's parents were killed in a plane crash and he was sent to live with his kindly old uncle, some 32 years his senior. My age, in fact. Must be somethin' about us 50-year-olds! Anyway, uncle introduced him to the delights of going down on a nice length of cock, and also to the delights of being a sub to a dominant master. Whatta lovely uncle! Then, after his trainin', it seems uncle – bless his tender heart – passed Slut Boy on to a professional poker player. One afternoon, before a big stakes tournament in some London gambling club, the poker player took Slut Boy along to Big Daddy's hotel suite. There the two poker players played poker with the youngster – not with cards, if you get my meanin' - and Big Daddy expressed a desire to enjoy Slut Boy's submissive talents a bit more. The English poker player said, words to the effect "Beat me in the tournament and you can have 'im on loan for six months". Big mistake. The Limey and Big Daddy were the last two players standin' and when the Englishman got a full house – jacks over 10s – he bet the lot. Big mistake. Big Daddy had a full house too – aces over queens. The next day, when Big Daddy walked into the first class section of his plane for the flight home to LAX, Slut Boy was with him. That was a coupla weeks ago, and that's when your's truly came into the picture. We sucked down the remains of our Buds and Slut Boy kissed me tenderly on the mouth. "Master Lash," he said, when we'd pulled apart, "I've got a confession to make." "Shoot," I told him. "When I said my cock was eight inches, I lied." I grinned. "Well, Slut Boy, I've got some good news and some bad news." He gave me one of his lovely smiles and asked: "What's the good news?" I said: "We're goin' back to that little ol' torture chamber, Slut Boy." "Yummy, yummy, yummy," he replied, fairly lickin' the drool from his mouth. "And what's the bad news, master?" I kissed him slowly, then whispered in his ear: "This time, no fuckin' Mr Nice Guy!" To be continued... Lash's New Lover Ch. 02 I finally got home 'bout 11 o'clock and I knew damn well that my boy, Pepe, would be pissed. I hadn't called and I'd switched my fuckin' mobile off, both of which would have had him half-mad, half-scared. I wheeled the AC Cobra into my big drive. I've gotta nice place, like I said before, the dungeon business is a big money business, when you do it right. The lights were still on and I made no pretence 'bout creepin' in, Pepe would be waitin'. I entered the kitchen, dragged an ice cold Bud from the chiller and walked into the lounge. Pepe was waitin' for me, naked but for a little thong, watchin' one of his wrestlin' movies. You know the stuff, cute oiled bodies, hard cocks, winner gets sucked by the loser, type crap. "You been out whorin'," said Pepe, accusinly. He's so fuckin' pretty when he's mad! He's a 22-year-old Puerto Rican, dark hair, cut quite long, lovely black eyelashes, deep brown eyes, smooth, shaved body, well muscled, of course, super buns, with an eight inch circumcised cock. A very pretty cock. I came across him at a movie star's place up in the hills. She had hired him with the idea of layin' all over his body and 'bout two or three days in found he was more partial to a bit of man meat, rather than some trashy little blonde bimbo. I'd been called in to quote her for a torture chamber – seems she was runnin' a three-slave stable and needed a bigger room to wield her fuckin' whips. After pourin' me a cold Becks – all she had was fuckin' foreign beer! – we went out poolside for the initial chat. First thing I saw was Pepe, workin' with some fuckin' great broom in the pool. He was bronzed and beautiful and I could see from the bulge in his tiny little Speedos that he was built for fuckery. The movie star saw my look – she was a fuckin' bimbo, but she wasn't fuckin' stupid – and said: "That's Pepe, he's a big disappointment to me. He doesn't go for muff stuff, if you get my meaning, Leather Man, so I'm trying to move him on. Interested?" I allowed as how I was, and after we'd done our dungeon business – she settled for a de luxe job – I had a chat with Pepe. Result was he moved in with me three days later. Seems Pepe's daddy has lived here for years, used to play for the Giants – wrong league, for me, I'm an Angels fan for my fuckin' sins – and now he's a first base coach for the Padres. Fuckin' first base coach! I could coach first base! Anyway, Pepe stares me down and accuses me of whorin'. "Hey, Pepe, no sweat. Just a passin' fling. Ships that pass in the fuckin' night," I told him, peelin' off my clothes till I was nude and he could see my hard-on. "Suck on this, while I explain," I told him. Pepe shrugged, slipped out of his thong to reveal a semi-stiff circumcised cock, and knelt by my chair. As he took my cock in his mouth, I stroked his head and explained. "I been out to see a kid who's a slut for some big fuckin' poker player," I told him. "Kid's into whippin' and electro shock stuff. He's keen to meet you, Pepe." Which was a fuckin' lie – not the whippin' and electro stuff, the "keen to meet you" shit - but Pepe occasionally likes to switch, makes a change from bein' my bottom all the fuckin' time. His mouth stopped suckin' on my stiffy and he looked up at me, with those fuckin' great puppy dog brown eyes. "He'd let me play with him, Master Lash?" he asked, and immediately I knew he was no longer pissed with me. "Sure, only I wanna watch," I told him. "I'll probably wanna give you a hand as well. Whaddya say?" "Pepe says yes please," he said, and resumed his oral adoration. See, promise him some fresh meat and he's anyone's! The next day, a sunny Saturday mornin', I told Pepe to get the pool cleaned and arrange recliners, that sorta stuff, so I could use the phone to Slut Boy out of his hearin'. Slut Boy answered almost immediately. "Hiya, Slut Boy," I said, cheerfully. "When I got home last night I told my pool boy Pepe, all 'bout ya. He's keen to meet, like to play a few games, make ya sweat a little. Keen?" Slut Boy wanted to know a little about Pepe, so I told him. When I got to the eight inches, cut, he caved in. I gave him the address and told him to call me from his mobile case he got lost. He arrived within the hour in some stupid fuckin' little Limey car, a Lotus, or somethin', which he'd borrowed from a dealer who knows his fuckin' poker player benefactor back in London. A Lotus, I ask you - a fuckin' woman's car. The lovely blonde boy climbs out of the piece of Limey shit, his muscles bulgin' in a white T-shirt, tight little beach shorts, boat shoes. I was at the door in a little red thong, cock pushin' it out in front of me like a tent. Slut Boy stepped into the hall, and into my arms, and I had his T-shirt off and his shorts down in a flash. He kissed me eagerly on the mouth, his erection pressin' into my groin. "Where is he, Master Lash?" he whispered, all eager. "Follow me, Slut Boy," I laughed and walked him through the house and downstairs to poolside. Pepe was vacuumin' the pool, in the nude and I thought Slut Boy's drool would never stop. "Pepe, get here," I ordered, and the bronzed Latino looked up, saw the stark naked blonde and nearly ran to us, his cock joggling and jostling against his bronzed, shaved thighs. "Hi Slut Boy, how's it hangin?" Pepe smiled, with one of his "Fuck me" smiles. The two young boys stepped into each others arms and their erections slapped against each others, like sabres in a fuckin' sword fight, then they were kissin' and smoochin' like there's no tomorrow. "Righto, young lovers," I laughed, "time to break it up. Slut Boy, get yourself on that recliner, face down, and I'll oil your back and buns, then we can sun bathe before our first session down in my little ole games room." Slut Boy lay, stiff-pricked on his belly, and I took some lotion and spread it over his beautiful back, buns, thighs and calves. As I did, Pepe came and stood at the head, his cut cock wavin' in the air. Slut Boy needed no second invitation, his mouth was soon swirlin' around Pepe's hard-on, suckin' and slurpin', the greedy little tart! Then I produced three cold Buds, and we all lay down and took in the ole' sunshine, while Pepe inquired what kinda punishments Slut Boy was into, had he tried this, had he tried that? I was crackin' a stiffy just listenin' to 'em jabber away, like a coupla whores. Finally, after about half an hour of this I was gettin' horny. "Righto, you two sluts," I said, "enough talk, how's about some action? Let's go downstairs for a while." I've got a great torture chamber – hey, I'm in the fuckin' business, I should have, right? As we walked in, Slut Boy's eyes popped out on stalks, just takin' it all in. I walked over to the fridge and removed an ice-cold Bud, lay back on a leather couch and told Pepe: "All right, Pepe, warm the lovely little Limey up!" The pretty Puerto Rican's first move was to put the blonde boy into a boot slung from a chain in the ceilin'. Then he bound his wrists behind his back and hauled him upside down into the air, till his head was at Pepe's groin level. Pepe then walked around the muscle strainin' slave and worked him over with a slender, single-stranded lash, makin' beautiful "Tssssh" sounds as it striped his bare flesh. The naked slave hung upside down, eyes bulging as he suffered the lash. Then Pepe placed his erection on Slut Boy's mouth and pumped him for a while, before lowerin' him to the ground. Released from the boot, Pepe once more jammed his cock into the Limey's receptive mouth, plungin' deep for about a minute, while contemplatin' his next plan of attack. That turned out to be the whippin' bench. It's sort of a curved, leather-padded apparatus, and Slut Boy's ankles went into slots at the extreme ends, his wrists were strapped down on the other side. It was a perfect height for Pepe to slam his cock into Slut Boy's anus, but first the Latino wanted to work on the Limey's backside. He took a heavy leather paddle and swung it, makin' it sound like a cannon goin' off when it hit home! I was keen to get in on the action now, so I picked up my Bud, stepped in front of Slut Boy's face and stuck my dick in his mouth as he was gettin' his whippin'. How 'bout that? Bein' sucked by a slave who's bein' whipped, while suckin' on a Bud. Heaven or what? Then Pepe dropped the paddle and drove his eight inches of circumcised cock into Slut Boy's anus. Then we were both rockin' back and forth, me in his mouth, Pepe in his arse. I passed him the cold Bud. "Take a suck, boy," I said, "this here's thirsty work!" Pepe handed me back the bottle, wiped his mouth, then pulled his big brown cock from Slut Boy's arse, and walked round to the front, prick swayin'. I got out of Slut Boy's mouth and went round to ram into his sweet arse, and Pepe grabbed Slut Boy's hair, pulled his mouth up a bit and slid his cock home. Then we both went at it some more. Finally, I heard Pepe gruntin' and groanin', a clear sign he's just about to blow his wad. Sure enough, he let out a whoop and cried "Suck me down, Slut Boy, suck me down!" and suddenly his entire body stiffened as his ejaculation struck home and pumped spunk into Slut Boy's eager mouth. Me, I was content to wait, and pulled away to lie back in comfort and watch as Pepe whaled away again on Slut Boy's arse, whoppin' him with another dozen or so cannon-like cracks with the big paddle. Then we all took a break, and trooped back into the sunshine, to lie back until Pepe had recovered, and I'd had a coupla more Buds. Slut Boy, meanwhile, relaxed, body oiled and glistenin' and lookin' fuckin' ravishin', a stupid smile on his face, restin' before his second session down there with Pepe. After another hour in the sun, I felt like another Bud and Pepe was rarin' to go for another games session with Slut Boy. We all trooped back down to the torture chamber, and this time Pepe wanted him in the floggin' frame. Now I know it's all a matter of personal preference, but I like to put the floggin' frame in one corner of the room. A lot of people like 'em central, sort of focal point, but I put mine in the corner, with a big mirror up against the wall so the slave can watch himself wriggle and writhe when the shocks or the whips hit him. If you need to give him a double whippin', then you can always wheel the fucker out into the middle. Anyways, Pepe got him strapped in and I lay back with my nice cold Bud and sucked on it, while the Latino worked Slut Boy's cock and balls over, making him arch and buck and shake about. His buns looked so cute, clenchin' and unclenchin' all the time. Every now and again, Pepe would stop the punishment to suck Slut Boy back to erection, and it was durin' one of these breaks I finished the Bud, and got another electro shocker and sat down on a stool behind the sweatin' Slut Boy, indicatin' to Pepe that we'd double team him. That's the best way, with the electro shockers, keep his cock and his crack awake, eh? When Pepe pulled off Slut Boy's hard-on, I gave the lovely Limey a jolt on his anus. Once he stopped swayin' I ran it across his buttocks, more swayin'. He'd hardly calmed down than Pepe jolted his cock, then his balls, settin' him off in another buckin' and writhin' frenzy. Soon he was cryin' out for mercy in one of those high-pitched Limey whines. "Oh fuck, Master Pepe, I can't take any more, I can't, please stop, I'll do anything," he was yellin'. Lovely words, nice to hear, but they mean fuck all, of course, Slut Boy was revellin' in his so-called torture, the lovely little swine! We musta given him 20 minutes of wrigglin' and writhin' exercise, with "comfort stops" for Pepe to suck him back to hardness, by which time his well-muscled young body was drippin' with perspiration. I decided on a change of pace. "How's about a bit of double whippin', Pepe?" I asked, during one pause for Slut Boy to stop his wrigglin'. "Fine by me, master," said my pool boy, so I wheeled the naked slave out into middle chamber, and Pepe and I selected floggin' implements. All the while, Slut Boy was hangin' there, moanin' and groanin' and pleadin' "No more, mercy masters, no more" which was a bit fuckin' stupid, on account of how he was displayin' a rather tasty hard-on! For the flagellation scene, we both chose rubber cats o' nine tails, 'cos they make a superb slappin' sound when they hit the slave's flesh, but they don't permanently mark and the sting is just momentary. You can flog 'em like that all fuckin' day! I started off on Slut Boy's back, with Pepe doin' the full frontal job, every now and then kneelin' in front of his tasty little plaything to suck on his cock. After a while, we changed places and I started off at his pecs, before movin' down over his chest and belly and then whippin' his cock and danglin' balls, which bounced around a treat when the rubber thongs hit him. At times I had to kneel and suck on him to bring him back to erection because, as most people will tell you, floggin' a slave with a hard-on is one of the nicest things you can watch while you're whippin' him! Then Pepe put down his flogger and placed a little stool behind the Limey's lovely back. I still worked on his cock and balls and other parts, but Pepe's cock was now perfectly aligned with Slut Boy's arse. Our slave gave out a groan of delight as Pepe's hard-on penetrated him, then it was wham-bang-thank you Slut Boy, as Pepe came with one of the fastest climaxes I've ever seen from him. Musta been excited, eh? I put down the flogger and we released the sweatin' slave, then we all went upstairs for lunch, some fuckin' salad, that Pepe prepared, cheese and salami, washed down with several bottles of Bud. After that we lounged around on the recliners in the warmth of the sun and shot the breeze, Slut Boy tellin' of his randy uncle's perversions, Pepe askin' him questions about the London scene, you know the kinda thing. I was just thinkin' it was time to resume our playtime downstairs, when Pepe came up with a little poolside punishment of his own. He stood up and walked round to the head of the recliner where Slut Boy was lyin' face down. Pepe's cock was semi-aroused, but nowhere near its full, eight-inch length when really fully prepared for a bit of fuckery. "Hey, Slut Boy," said Pepe, "I've drunk so much piss that I gotta take a piss – or would you like to take my piss?" And with that, Pepe took his beautiful brown cock in his thumb and forefinger and placed it against Slut Boy's lovely lips. And darn it, if the Limey don't open wide and take him in down to the ring. I could hear the gusher let go from where I was layin', and Slut Boy gulped him down like he'd just walked across the Sahara fuckin' Desert! After the relief of lettin' go with his piss, Pepe was all randy again and just stood there, humpin' and pumpin' till Slut Boy got a tasty dessert to go with his liquid lunch! It was about then that all the suckin' on the suds got to me, too, and I got up and told Slut Boy: "On your back, boy, daddy wants to take a piss, too!" Slut Boy obliged, his cock hard and juttin' skywards. I took hold of my seven inches of uncut cock, pulled the foreskin back a tad so the piss slit was revealed, aimin' straight at Slut Boy's stiffy and let him have it. A strong golden stream drenched the boy's genitals, and he stroked himself while I was peein' on him, Then I sprayed him all over his belly, then his chest and finished off by givin' him a facial, the yellow liquid running all over his eyes, nose and into his lovely blonde hair. He was fuckin' drenched! I turned and dived into the pool, and Pepe and Slut Boy did the same. Soon we were all involved in a triple cuddle, cocks and balls bumpin' and then Slut Boy had a request. He kissed me on the mouth as we trod water in the deep end, his body all gleaming and shiny. "Master," he asked, in that oh-so-fuckin' proper Limey accent when we'd disengaged, "I really need an ejaculation. Do you think that's possible?" "Sure, Slut Boy," I answered, "let's go." Back downstairs, we put Slut Boy back in the floggin' frame so as we'd have some control over him durin' the wankin'. He didn't object, course he thought he was gonna come. Which he was – only when Pepe and I decided, not when he fuckin' wanted! I'd already tipped Pepe the nod that we was goin' to make him beg for his relief. As I sucked on another Bud from the fridge in the torture room, Pepe sat on a stool in front of the blonde boy and prepared for his first stint at the game. He sucked and licked at Slut Boy's cock for several minutes and then, sensin' an increase in the cock's movements, and the fact that Slut Boy was pantin' and moanin' fit to drown out my Cobra when it's revvin', he pulled away. "I'm bored, master," he said, slappin' Slut Boy on his arse, "can I stop now?" "No, please don't stop, oh fucking hell, tell him to keep going, master," Slut Boy pleaded, his lovely English accent all plummy and whinin'. I stood up and rubbed my chilled bottle of Bud across the lovely uncut eight-inches of shudderin' cock. "Sorry, Slut Boy, but if Pepe's had enough, then he's had enough. Tell you what – I'll take over, how's that?" Slut Boy nodded, eagerly. "Oh yes, please, master, yes please, but let me come soon, I'm in fucking agony!" Sure you are, boy, I thought. And it's gonna be that way for quite some time! To be continued...