Poor Simon Ch. 02

I was thirsty, so I mindlessly reached for the water and Master Anthony tugged on the leash so hard I gagged and tears came to my eyes. I rubbed my sore throat and looked at the meal through a thin veil of tears. I started to cry softly.

It wasn't my sore throat that made me do it. I was just so tired and afraid and degraded. My head ached and I was utterly humiliated and I just wanted to see my parents again. I tried to be as quiet as I could, but all of them could hear me.

Janice gave my Master a silent look. And the European man rolled his eyes. The Indian man muttered something about Master Anthony spoiling me rotten. The brunette and the redhead gave me looks of sympathy and the black girl just glared at me with contempt.

I flinched as Master laid a hand on my head, but it was soothing. I leaned against his leg, and he let me as I quietly trembled with grief.

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When we finished with the meal, Master walked me down the hallway to a small door with the number 17 on it.

"This is where we will do most of our training." He murmured. "It is also where we'll sleep. We will only go elsewhere for meals, exercise, and some of the more complex apparatus."

As he flicked on the light, I could only stare. The room was about the size of a nice hotel room. There was a bathroom near the entrance, and a single large bed in the far corner, but this was where the resemblance stopped. In one corner was a huge dog-kennel, like the kind you buy for a Great Dane. There was a massive chest, like a square treasure chest that went along one wall, on the far end their was a window that looked out onto an ocean as blue as a dream.

Across the ceiling there were little hooks and chains hung from all four bedposts.

Master tugged me over to the chest and he rummaged around in it for a few seconds. I sat a few feet away, biting my lip with nervousness. He took out a few items.

One was a longer, more flexible whip. One was what looked like restraints made of soft fabric. Their was something hidden in his hand that I couldn't see. He stood over me and tied my hands together behind my back with the soft, padded shackles. Then he sat on the bed and tugged me over until I was kneeling between his knees, trying not to look at the way his pants cupped a large bulge.

"Calm down Simon."

I leaned into his hand as his other hand began to gently tease my nipples one by one. I let out a little mewl of pleasure, and I was starting to hopefully think that maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Then I gave a small yelp as something clamped onto my left nipple, and I didn't have time to react before that same frustrating pain clamped onto my other nipple.

I looked down and moaned. My nipples had little golden clips on them, and dangling from the clips were two small bells that jingled maddeningly. The clips burned and made me squirm with pain and discomfort, but I realized with horror that my penis was getting harder, and pressing against the fabric of the panties. I cried out as he lightly lashed me with the long whip. The lash was so light that all it did was sting and make my cheeks flush with arousal and shame.

"It is time for you to learn how to suck a man's cock." I looked up and whimpered as I saw him unbutton his pants and reach inside.

"M-Master! P-Please don't m-make me—Ah!"

I tried to plead with him but he only lashed me again and again. I writhed and wailed as he lashed me ten times, the long whip curling and hissing through the air.

"You did not have permission to speak Simon.

Hush, you need to learn this, so just calm down."

He spoke slowly and softly after the whippings were done and I trembled between his legs, moaning. His hand tangled in my hair and I leaned my head on his warm, muscular thigh.

My nipples ached and burned. I was flushed and panting and trying desperately to calm down.

His hands cupped my head and led me to his crotch. I let him. I was afraid and I just wanted to close my eyes and have it be over. Something hot and hard nudged my cheek.

"Open your eyes Simon." I did, and his hard cock was in front of me, he held it in one of his hands. "This is a very simple thing, and I know that you are still frightened, but you need to let me teach you, or I will have to punish you very severely. To tell you the truth, I don't want to punish you. I might want to hurt you a little, so you can make those cute sounds, but I don't want to punish you. If you don't learn enough with me you will be given to another, harder master, and maybe even back to the Doctor, so it would be best for you to try and conquer your fear Simon."

"Y-Yes, Master." I whimpered.

Tears were in my eyes and I was afraid of being sent back to the Doctor, but the reason I wanted to be braver was because he said he didn't want to punish me. I wanted to please him because he said I made cute sounds and because he was talking to me like I had feelings and not trying to stomp them out.

I took a few deep breaths, and he let me. He leaned back a little, stroking his cock and waiting for me to calm down a bit. I looked at his cock and gasped. He had large hands and his fingers could only just barely reach around the full width. His cock was a few inches longer than mine, but what frightened me is that it was twice as thick and curved up slightly.

Unlike the freakishly long and ugly penis of Hanson, Master's cock as well-shaped with a thick smooth shaft and a proportionate head with a long slit that had just a glimmer of moisture in it.

I leaned forward just a little and licked him, right on the tip. I could hear the bells jingling faintly, which made me cringe with humiliation. The flesh was warm and yielding and I could taste the salt of his precome. I took another deep breath and opened my mouth. As I leaned forward, my Master's cock slid between my soft lips.

"Good job." He murmured, stroking my hair. "Now start licking it, and try to get more of it in your mouth, it's okay if you can't get it all in at first."

I licked the underside and put him in my mouth again. His cock was hard and hot and throbbing like it was alive. I shoved all thoughts to the back of my stupid, cowardly brain and tried to focus only on him, and giving him pleasure.

His hands were on my head, but he wasn't forcing my head up and down. He was just petting me lightly.

I let out a small whimper as I tried to put more of him inside me. I gagged a little and opened my eyes just a crack to see how far I had to go. I whimpered again when I realized that I only had a little more than half of him.

I panted through my nose and lunged, trying to get more of him, but doing that only made me gag and have to back off. The bells tinkled maddeningly.

Master's voice was a little strained. "Don't just throw yourself on it, go slower."

My entire world narrowed to my mouth and his cock. I closed my eyes and buried my face into his warm crotch. His smell was thick and clean and masculine and overpowering. I let out muffled groans as he drew the lash over my back in light strokes. My own cock was aching and dribbling and oh so hard. I felt like I would come at the slightest touch. After three tries I managed to bury his cock a few more inches into my throat.

I let out strangled cries as he lashed me. The whip stung in lines of fiery pain that melted into pleasure. My body was reacting strangely and violently to all of the new sensation. I felt hot and feverish and my nipples were burning and my penis was on fire, but my back and buttocks felt icy cold. My body was beaded and running with a thousand little rivulets of sweat. The pain in the back of my throat and my aching knees and shoulders and my tortured nipples and the fiery whip all combined and made my body feverish with pleasure and pain. The bells jingled in a cruel mocking chorus. I was crying with pain and arousal and the sheer need for release.

I bobbed my head up and down on his cock and I could feel how close he was. His cock was throbbing like an engine in my mouth and he was letting his breath out in quiet aggressive growls.

I made a small muffled noise of mingled fear and arousal as his hands cupped my head in an aggressive, dominant way. He began thrusting my head up and down on his hard, spasming cock.

He held my head away and began pumping his fat, curved cock in his fist. I sat there trembling and blinded by sweat. I was shaking from the pain and the fear and the weird fever that I was suffering from my arousal. My mouth was dripping from a mixture of precome and saliva and sweat.

I sat there, panting and crying and on the brink of an unreachable orgasm when he came all over me.

I could see the slit of his cockhead flare like a mouth pursing it's lips and getting ready to spit. Then something hot and heavy and wet was splattered over my lips and some into my mouth.

I barely registered the taste—strong and musky and somehow powerful—before he rammed his cock back between my come-smeared lips. His cock spat spurt after spurt into my mouth and some of it dribbled out of the corners of my lips.

I looked at him with my eyes full of tears and his penis in my mouth and his come on my face. I was so broken and degraded that I felt like sobbing.

His face was flushed with orgasm, but serious as he looked at me. "You know what to do Simon, eat it. Lick up all of that nice come that I gave you."

"Y-Yes M-M-Mmmm—" I couldn't say it before I broke into tears. I cried in soft moans that shook my entire body.

"Shh, it's okay Simon. I'm going to help you come very soon, but you have to eat all of that come on your face first.

"Th-thank you, M-M-Master."

I swallowed the come in my mouth. It was hot and salty and musky and I could feel my stomach lurch uneasily. Then Master Anthony reached down and used his finger to wipe all of his semen off of my cheeks and lips. I sucked on his finger.

"Now you've been a good boy, and I know it hurts, but if you do what I say we can take those nasty clips off and you can have a shower and some sleep."

He began to stroke my hair and I whimpered, head drooping. "Look at me Simon." He tilted my head up so I was looking at his foxy strong-featured face. "You are going to masturbate until you come in front of me. Your legs are going to be spread apart so I can see everything."

"Yes, M-Master."

He reached behind me to undo my shackles and he held my leash. I looked up at him for a moment, and I knew that I wanted to stay with him. What he did to me hurt so bad, but he said he was going easy on me. If I went to another Master they would be crueler, and they wouldn't look at me with that half-gentle, half-lustful look that he did.

I had my reasoning behind it. It still took all of my courage to lean back and feebly spread my legs for him. He looked appreciatively at my swollen, aching cock that was sticking from the side of those stupid blue panties.

I took a few tortured, sobbing breaths before touching my penis. My cock throbbed in my hand as if begging me to bring it to a climax. I began masturbating in front of my Master.

He owned every scrap of me. He owned my worthless body, and my movements. He owned the tattered scraps of my pride and dignity. All that was left was a crying toy that feebly moved to his every whim.

I cried as I touched myself with him watching. I was so overwhelmed with emotion and pain and loss. My cock was wet from all of the precome that had dribbled down the sides, so my hand moved in smooth motions from the thick, fuzzy base to the moist, pulsing tip.

I reached orgasm and it felt so sweet and good and amazing. It was as if my body was filled with light. When the light faded I was sprawled on the floor. I was exhausted and sticky from sweat and come.

"When you eat your come, I'll take the clips off."

I ate my semen with my fingers, too far gone even to cry. I tasted mild compared to my Master. Even when it came to our semen, I was weaker than him.

I let out little moans of relief as he took the clips off. I was too weak to stand, so he carried me to the bathroom.

When he turned the water on I grayed out briefly. When I opened my eyes, he was fully clothed, and holding me up as the hot water pounded my small, shaking body. He scrubbed my shoulders and body with a wonderfully rough sponge that felt good on my skin.

He dried me off with a towel. His hands were not shy, and they scrubbed my most private and tender places in a matter-of-fact way. He took off the leash, but not the collar.

He brought me to the dog-kennel. I crawled inside at his command and he padlocked the door. I huddled naked on the large foam mat, shivering with cold and pure exhaustion. He hesitated before opening the door again to give me a soft blanket.

"Thank you, Master." I whispered. I curled up into a fetal position under the warm blanket and exhaustion crashed over me like a wave.