The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Groaning, I lay on top of my desk where Patrick had left me when he stormed out after fucking the bejeezus out of me. What had I done? Tears welled up in my eyes as the full impact of my foolishness rocked me, multiplied by the pain radiating from my bleeding anus. I’d turned Patrick into a monster. I hadn’t realized what I’d unleashed until the moment during his fuck that he’d started beating me. And the roiling rage that overflowed from him rolled me around as if I were a child caught in the breakers. Oh yes, I’d gotten what I wanted and in spades, so to speak. My ass was torn and bleeding. I could feel the blood mixed with his semen dribbling down my legs. My shirttail, filthy with my own shit and blood mixed with his semen lay cold against my inflamed butt cheeks.

“Oh God,” I groaned and pushed myself up off the desk

I tried to stand up but my legs buckled and I barely caught myself before falling back in my chair. I could feel the slime dripping from my cunt onto the leather and knew I’d have to clean it up before I left or there’d be a stain that would never come out. Then again, that might serve as a reminder to me to be more careful the next time I wished for something. Painfully, I got to my feet. I reached between my legs and grabbed my soiled shirttail to use as a temporary diaper. The fabric was pulled tight against my swollen rosebud and the pain was awful, but I had to keep any more muck from dripping onto the floor, I shuffled to my bathroom. Most gingerly, I lowered myself to the toilet and ran the water in the sink until it got warm. Then I dampened some toilet tissue and started to wipe my butt, hissing through my teeth as the pain shot through my body. I was going to have a royal case of hemorrhoids; that much was sure.

I cleaned and dried myself carefully, crying and whimpering with every touch to my swollen tissue. I shuffled back to my desk and picked up my shorts and trousers, sliding them over my hips. Then I tucked my shirttail into my shorts: no need to get the back of my trousers mucked up. The underwear could be easily washed but I didn’t want to have to make a special trip to the dry-cleaners, which would have been the alternative since I wore this pair of pants frequently. I put myself back together and hobbled to the door. It felt like my hip joints had been displaced by the force of Patrick’s fuck and I smiled wryly at my gait, in spite of my discomfort, knowing I walked with that distinct roll of someone who’s just been through a rough fucking. Getting down the stairs to the subway was torture and gave me a good idea of what people with arthritis experience. I couldn’t decide whether to sit or stand on the train, afraid that if I sat, I might bleed onto the seat of my pants. I really should have put some sort of liner in my shorts before I got dressed but I hadn’t thought of it at the time. I decided that, difficult as it was, I’d remain standing during the ride uptown. Every jolt of the train sent a shock wave through my body and I could barely stifle the groans. I was in agony as the train seemed to creep up the tracks and sat overly long in each station. I just wanted to get home before I broke down. My chest felt like it was going to burst open with pain.

Finally, the train pulled into my station and I was able to get up the stairs and then into my building. Fortunately Sam wasn’t on duty because I was not in the least bit ready to deal with him. I got into my apartment and headed immediately for the bathroom. I removed my pants and my shorts and saw that I had indeed bled on them. Fortunately, none of the blood had gotten on my trousers so I wouldn’t need to get them cleaned. But my shorts had clotted blood and stains from semen mixed with shit and mucus on them. I filled the basin with cold water and put them in. Then I gave myself a warm enema. Inserting the nozzle into my swollen anus was agony, even though I’d lubed it well. As I sat on the toilet while I held the fluid, the tears welled up again. How could I have been so stupid? Would I ever be able to fix it with Patrick? What if I’d lost him? The hollowness in my stomach from the grief matched the fire burning my ass.

When I released the fluid it was reddish brown so I repeated the process. The second one was cleaner but still not clear so I ran another dose and infused my intestines. The third round flowed clear so I dried myself and ran a bath in my whirlpool. It felt so good to settle into the bath and let the hot water wash over my aching body.

What to do about Patrick? How could I switch off the anger I’d unleashed? He’d hear my voice and go ballistic. I thought I’d given a safe post-hypnotic suggestion in telling him that the chiming of his clock would make him hard and that he’d have the need to dominate another man when he was hard. But something had gone wrong and now I had to figure out how to remove the “programming”. I sat in the hot bath as hot tears ran down my cheeks. My tears were those of pain and hurt: my ass was more sore than I could remember, exacerbated by the pain of knowing that I’d driven Patrick away, repelled by his own anger, the anger that I’d put into him.

“Patrick, I’m sorry,” I cried.

How could I fix it? And even more difficult, how could he and I address the basic problem? How could we make this work considering that we both had the same needs, at least from time to time. Yes, I could continue to top him and dominate him. But I had needs too and sometimes I needed to let someone else take over and discipline me. I needed to be beaten and fucked too. How were we to manage that? I shook my head. Whatever the answer was, turning Patrick into a raging fuck machine wasn’t the answer. I’d enjoyed the initial part of our encounter but when it turned truly brutal, the pleasure went out of it. If Patrick had been enjoying it, it might have been different and I might have found pleasure in giving pleasure to him. But he was just angry and that gave neither him nor me anything. I lifted my butt off the seat and rubbed my bruised globes, moaning from the sting. Then I reached between my legs and gently felt my swollen ass lips. I knew that tomorrow I’d feel worse than I did now unless I got something on the assaulted flesh.

Finally, I climbed reluctantly from the tub and put on a robe. I found a tube of cortico-steroid cream and applied it carefully to my ass lips, ever so gently pushing it inside. As the cream soothed and desensitized the inflamed flesh, I was able to apply more until I felt my insides were well-coated. Then I went to my bedroom, turned down the sheets and fell on the bed. In a matter of minutes, I was asleep.

I went through a door into a large room. People were seated in rows surrounding a platform on which Patrick stood. Many in the audience wore white lab coats. He beckoned me to the platform, telling the audience that I would perform for them. I realized I didn’t know what to do because I hadn’t prepared adequately. But Patrick urged me to come up onto the platform so I complied. He instructed me to face the audience and, as I did, I realized I was naked. My cock surged, filling my hands with which I was attempting to cover my nudity. Patrick ordered me to keep my hands at my side but I refused. So he took my hands and cuffed them behind my back, leaving me exposed for the audience’s view. He forced me to walk around on the platform so that everyone in the audience could view my body. Then he ordered me to demonstrate my positions and pushed me so that I bent at the waist and leaned forward. He moved behind me and I could feel his body with my hands as his warmth came nearer. I moved my fingers and was shocked to feel his penis resting on them. In my dream, I started to cry and beg him not to hurt me but he didn’t listen.

“Please Patrick, please don’t,” I cried, knowing that my protestations were useless because I could feel his cock swelling in my hands.

My cries became garbled animal groanings as my tongue and lips refused to correctly form the words. Then he entered me and I screamed. How could he do this to me? How could he fuck me like this in front of an audience? My sense of humiliation and embarrassment was as great as the physical pain I felt but my cock was pressing urgently against my belly. I began to pant and moan as Patrick raised me to my toes and then off my feet with his massive, rising penis. His hands reached around my torso and, using his dick like a spit, he turned me over so that I was face up, looking at his pink nipples and muscular chest. I reached my hands up and took his tits between my fingers, hoping that by touching him, he’d have mercy on me and let me go. But he just continued to ream my ass with his organ, bouncing me up and down like a little puppy. I yelped in pain and pleasure as his cock demonstrated my impotence to the jeering crowd. I pulled myself up to reach his chest with my mouth and suckled on one of his nipples, wanting desperately to taste him as well as being anxious to hide myself against his body. Then I felt his cock throbbing in my cavity and my own dick throbbed in response as I came and came, spewing cum over both our bodies as he filled my rectum with his own jism.

The world faded into nothingness and then to darkness as my brain became partially awake. There was warm cum on my belly and my cock was still pumping a bit as my wet dream melted away. But the sense of embarrassment, humiliation and degradation clung to me like wet toilet paper. I reached for a tissue and wiped the cum from my abdomen. Then I lay staring into the darkness, my mind in turmoil as to how to put right what I’d done. I had to get Patrick back! I had to turn off this monster and recover what I’d destroyed. Tears filled my eyes and ran down the sides of my face.

“Patrick, I’m sorry,” I whispered. “How can I fix this?”

Then exhaustion claimed me and, once more, I drifted into a fitful sleep.

I awoke feeling drugged. Sleep deprivation used to be a way of life for me and I used to be able to function as though I’d had eight hours. This morning, getting up was a struggle. Maybe it wasn’t just the lack of sleep; maybe the fact that the night before I’d been savagely raped by my lover had something to do with it as well. Not only was my mind foggy but there was a tightness in my throat; I wanted to cry. Nevertheless, I got showered and dressed, after applying more ointment to my anus. Then I hauled my sorry ass into the office.

Fortunately, several of my morning appointments cancelled or postponed and I had only one walk-in. I took the found time to think about what to do to switch off the Frankenstein’s monster I’d unleashed. What had gone wrong? I’d planted the suggestion in Patrick’s subconscious that he would get hard when he heard his clock chime. No problem there; a very straightforward concept. It was the aggression and anger that were a problem. Had I said anything about anger? Not that I recalled. I’d told him that he would feel aggression when he thought of me. Was that it? Was the problem that I’d crossed the boundary into his workplace? Had I foolishly gone where I didn’t belong? Patrick was CEO of his own company; he’d had to withstand fierce competition. Didn’t it make sense that he’d be angry if he felt someone was tampering with his business? I’d ordered up aggression in a most inappropriate place that he must have felt threatened his livelihood and position in his community. Naturally, he’d be angry.

How could I have been so stupid? But how could I turn the aggression off now that I’d let it out of the bottle? The sound of my voice might set Patrick off and prevent my getting the chance to put aright my foolishness. Perhaps I could enlist the aid of Michael or Jim, Patrick’s EA. No, that wouldn’t be a good idea. In order to do that, I’d have to say something about how Patrick’s and my relationship had gotten started. Truth be told, I was still ashamed of myself for what I’d done. I could also, not incidentally, be brought up on charges and lose my license to practice if word got out about my abuse of a doctor-patient relationship. No, I’d have to figure this out and take care of it myself. Head in my hands, I wracked my brain. Then, like a flash, it hit me! My website! All I needed was a way to get Patrick to link to my site! I thought about it and developed a plan. Then I logged on to the web and set to work.

The walk around the block and getting home that night before had calmed me down. Sarah and I put the kids to bed and ate supper. She was a bit surprised to see me home before 9:00 but didn’t press the question: getting two young ones ready for bed tends to push other concerns aside. As I did every night, I checked my e-mail and went to bed.

I went to the office the next day and busied myself with seeing to work I had left undone the day before as well as dealing with new problems that cropped up. Before I started in, however, I put my chiming clock beneath a pile of folders in my desk drawer. I was still angry at what Mark had done the day before and remembered that it was the clock’s chimes that had caused my hardness. I really couldn’t afford another day of distractions like that. I’d had a very hard time getting through my meetings yesterday and didn’t want a repetition. Once I’d put the clock away, I didn’t think of Mark all day. Then, toward the end of the day, as I was finishing up the bits and pieces and getting ready to go home, I realized I hadn’t thought of Mark. That brought me up short. Was I getting over him? Had I just been infatuated and was that passing? I felt a pang of regret at the thought. I’d really enjoyed what I felt for him. Was it over? Could it pass that quickly? Feeling somewhat dislocated, I locked up and headed for home.

I got home in time to help Sarah finish getting dinner ready and herded Jackson and Jessie to the table. After we’d eaten and gotten the kids in bed, Sarah said that she needed to get to bed; she’d had a long day and tomorrow would be another long one with an early start. I kissed her goodnight and went to my office to check my e-mail. I downloaded my messages and saw, among the usual spam and business-related messages, a message from Mark Shibley, my EA’s partner. I attended to the other messages and finally opened Mark’s message. It was a Thank You with a link for an e-card. The address for the link seemed familiar but, with all the URLs I go to every day, any link might seem familiar. I smiled and selected the link.

The window began to load and a cartoon character told me to pay close attention because I’d soon see a very special message. So I waited, staring at the screen. I heard a soft voice, saw a familiar whirling pattern of lights and felt myself being pulled into the comfortable, relaxed place that Mark Andrews had introduced me to.

Thoughts were filling my mind like water filling a pond. Calm, calm, everything was calm. My cock was rising; the only part of my body that wasn’t relaxed. My Master was summoning me and I could not resist him. He ordered me to strip for him and I gladly complied. It felt so good to be naked for him. He ordered me to lock my office door and then take out the snakebites he knew I had in my desk drawer, lick them and apply them to my pink nipples. I got up, keeping my eyes on the screen and locked the door. Then I opened my drawer and got my suction cups as Master had ordered. I licked them and applied them to my tits. The suction on my tits would pull the poisonous aggression from my body, leaving warmth in its place. I could feel the rage being drained through my nipples and it felt so good.

“Master, I hear you. I give my anger to you,” I mumbled.

He continued to speak to me, urging me to relax and encouraging me to follow the swirling patterns on the monitor. He ordered me to renew the suction on my tits so I pinched the cups again. As I did, I pinched my swelling cones and moaned with pleasure. The slight hiss from around my pink, fleshy nubs told me that soon the expelled air would be replaced with my swollen flesh. A shiver ran down my spine and I sat back, staring at the patterns on the screen and feeling the pre-cum coating my penis as each throb pumped more of the slippery fluid from my piss-slit. The quiet voice continued its almost inaudible drone, pulling me into deeper and deeper levels of relaxation.

Then the voice suggested to me that I needed to touch my anus and stroke my ass lips. As I did, I groaned and arched my back, suddenly feeling a need to have more. Master gave me permission to push my finger into my rectum and feel the pleasure of penetration. He told me that penetration was puncturing the bubble of anger I was holding in my gut and releasing the pent-up rage. I could feel it! I knew it was true!

“Yes Master, thank You Sir,” I murmured as I bucked against my finger.

My Master told me that I would need to stop by his office the next evening at 6:30. He told me I should be sure to shave my body when I showered the next morning so that I’d be smooth for my Master. I would no longer feel the anger I’d felt earlier. Then Master told me to clean myself up and go to bed: I needed rest. I would sleep soundly that night and My Master would take care of my needs the next evening. I closed the browser and shut off my PC. I used my fingers to scoop up as much of my pre-cum as I could and licked them clean, savoring the salty, viscous honey. Then I wiped my penis with a tissue, got my underclothes on, pulled up my pants and headed for bed.

The next morning, I rose and showered, making sure to give my body a good shaving as my Master had instructed. Sarah was out early so I decided to stop for a bagel on the way to the office and get in a bit early. That would give me a jump on my day. I called her on her mobile around noon, figuring she’d be eating then and I wouldn’t be interrupting her day. After we’d talked a little, I told her that I would be stopping by Mark’s office again that evening on the way home and would be a bit late for dinner. She told me to have a good time and say “hi” to Mark for her and we hung up. As the day wore on, I began to feel a greater sense of excitement about seeing Mark. Maybe my fears about “getting over him” were unfounded. Certainly today, thoughts of being with him were sending little electric jolts through my trousers-trapped penis.

At 6:30 I opened the outer door to Mark’s office with a bit of trepidation. What would it be like seeing him after what he’d done to me the day before yesterday?. Would the anger come flooding back? Then, when I thought about what I’d done to Mark the previous day it pained me. Had I hurt him badly? I could remember seeing the blood on my hard dick as I fucked him and now realized that it was possible that I’d hurt him terribly. But there he was, waiting for me with a look of concern in his eyes. I rushed to him and we grabbed each other and held on for dear life. We relaxed our embrace and both began to talk at the same time.

“Mark, I’m sorry…”

“Patrick, I didn’t mean for that…”

“I’m sorry, you go.”

“No, you go.”

Once again, we stepped on each other’s lines.

“What I wanted to say was…”

“It was so stupid of me…”

We both stopped staring at each other and then broke into laughter. Mark leaned forward and kissed me.

“Let me go first,” he said. “I think I have the lion’s share of apologizing to do.”

“But are you alright?” I asked, rubbing his back. “I think I really hurt you.”

Mark sighed.

“I won’t kid you. I was in a lot of pain the last couple of days.”

“Mark! I’m sorry!”

He put his fingers to my lips.

“It wasn’t your fault Patrick: I brought it on myself. Part of my pain is from realizing that I’d risked losing you with my stupidity. It was stupid of me to think I could switch your aggression off and on like a light. And it was really stupid of me to intrude into your place of business. I shouldn’t have done it and I paid for it. Actually, I’ll continue to pay for it for several days until my butt heals. But it’s better than it was.”

I ran my hand down his back and over the round melons of his ass and he groaned and pushed his butt against my hand.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I forgot that I’d also whipped your ass.”

“That’s OK,” he grinned. “That part I liked; at least up to a point. Besides, my buns will recover fairly quickly. Now it’s just a reminder that somebody whipped my ass. But my anus will take a little longer. You should have seen me that night,” he chuckled. “I was walking like a cowboy who’s been in the saddle too long. If only it didn’t hurt so much.”

“I’m sorry baby,” I said, gathering him in my arms and kissing him. “Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?” I asked, holding him at arms length and grinning.

“No!” Mark groaned. Then he laughed. “All that would do is get me worked up again and I really don’t want anything going in there right now. But I’ll take a rain-check on that offer!” he grinned.

I chuckled too and kissed him again.

“Now I’m not sure where the idea came from but I had the sense when I woke up this morning that my Master would be here to relieve me of some of the tension I was feeling the last couple of nights. Know anything about that?”

“I might,” Mark grinned. “Why don’t you go into my examination room and remove your clothes boy. Perhaps something can be arranged.”

“Yes Sir, Doctor Andrews,” I said, grinning back.

I started to walk past him and turned to grab him again.

“I’m so glad you sent me that message. I felt horrible. I don’t like being angry and what was worst was I was angry with you and didn’t know why. I hated that. And then yesterday, I felt nothing. I was afraid I was over you.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, holding me close to his chest. “I’ll never do that again my love. I’ve learned my lesson this time. Now go get ready. I’ll be there in a moment…”

I looked around the room in which I’d first come to awareness of that part of me that enjoyed sex with men – no, enjoyed love with men! I smiled to myself, remembering how I’d come looking for some relief from the stress I’d been under and found so much more. I hung my overcoat and jacket on hangers and loosened my tie, slipping it over my head. As I unbuttoned my shirt, my hands brushed over my erect and sensitive nipples, still slightly sore from the workout I’d given them last night, under Doctor’s orders, of course. I hung up my shirt and tie and slipped my shoes, socks and trousers off. Then I climbed up on the table to await my doctor, my Master. I didn’t have to wait long.

Mark came in with two mugs of coffee.

“In case you wanted a cup,” he said holding one out to me. “I live on this stuff!”

I took the cup.

“Thanks, that’s great,” I said and sipped the hot brew. “You make a good cup of coffee, Dr. Andrews,” I remarked.

“Thanks,” he said. “It’s one of the first lessons you learn in medical school. They call the class anatomy but before you ever get to a cadaver, they teach you how to brew coffee. Say it’s an absolutely necessary survival skill and that most people don’t know how to make a proper pot of coffee.”

We both laughed and sipped our coffee. I felt the jolt of caffeine and was appreciative that Mark had thought of it. It also helped warm my naked body.

Mark leaned against the counter, looking at me over the rim of his mug.

“You are such a beautiful man,” he said and I could see he was smiling from the crinkled corners of his eyes. “How could I have been so lucky?”

“I don’t know,” I confessed, shrugging. “Maybe I was the lucky one.”

“And on top of it all, you love me. I just can’t believe it sometimes,” he said and I could see that now his eyes were misty.

I swallowed hard to push the lump down my own throat.

“Please Mark,” I whispered. “Don’t do that to me again. I just hated how I felt about you. I love you; I don’t want to be angry with you. Please,” I pleaded.

“I won’t. I promise,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m sorry Patrick. I love you so much.”

He put down his mug and came to me, taking me in his arms and kissing me. He stroked my skin and his hands found their way to my nipples.

“Oooh,” I groaned as he gripped my tits, making me shiver with delight.

“Good boy,” he said, smiling. “I can tell you followed your instructions last night. That makes me happy.”

“Sir?” I said, immediately dropping into my submissive role when I heard him call me “boy”.

“Yes boy?”

“Sir, could I get my nipple pierced? Like yours Sir? I think I’d like that,” I said, feeling his ring through his shirt.

“I think that’s a definite possibility,” he answered, pinching my tits even harder. “A boy should have pierced tits. And I’ll buy you a gold ring to wear in it. Now, let’s get to the reason your Master summoned you here this evening. You worked yourself up into a good lather last night, if you did your training correctly. You need to have that sexual tension released. Is that true boy?”

“Yes Sir,” I said smartly. “I was very horny and I need your help with that. Will you help your boy Sir?”

“Of course,” he answered grinning. “Just turn and lay back on the table. That’s it. Put your feet in the stirrups. Good.”

I was in position and Mark bent over my prone body and began to bathe me with his tongue. He licked my smooth armpits and then moved to my freshly shaved chest. He circled my right nipple, starting by running the tip of his tongue around the edge of the aureole. Then he spiraled in, going around and around, drawing his tongue close and closer to my erect nub. When he reached it, he flicked the rough mound with his flexible organ before gripping it between his teeth and further torturing my little cone of flesh with his warm, wet muscle while he chewed the slopes of my tiny volcano. I was in ecstasy, arching my back and thrusting my stiffening cock into the air. I needed this so badly and he knew it. While he was suckling on my nipple, his finger was in my navel, stretching and pulling it this way and that, teaching me that there was yet another erotic touch-point on my body that I hadn’t known about. He pushed my hips down with his hand and continued to work my navel and nipple. Then he trailed his tongue across my chest and began to work my left tit, repeating what he’d done to my right. By now, my penis was coated with pre-cum and I was trembling with pent-up desire and need.

“Please Sir,” I gasped. “Please, please, please let me come.”

Bite to the tit.

“Ahhhhh! Oh god. Please Mark. I need to come. Please let me come.”

Another bite to the tit.

“Not yet boy. I have more to work on here.”

He ringed his thumb and forefinger around the base of my dick and pulled upward, stripping the slickness off of it like a squeegee and making me nearly loose it. I bucked and groaned but one stroke wasn’t sufficient to carry me over the edge. Then he took the sticky fluid and deposited much of it on my puffy nipples, massaging it in as he twisted and pinched them.

“Oh, oh, oh… Aaaaggnnnnnhhh. Oh Mark. Oh god. I can’t stand it,” I cried.

“Yes you can. You love this and you know it,” he laughed, holding his slick hand up to my lips so that he could paint my lips with it.

Then he held his hand against my mouth so that I could lick the pre-cum off and I savored the taste of my own body on my lover’s hand. Mark moved to the foot of the table and between my raised legs. He bent and breathed his hot breath on my puckered hole, which contracted, seeking something to breach it and fill it. Mark gave it his tongue, sucking on my ass lips and then teasing my wrinkled flesh. His moustache was growing back and the feel of his stiff whiskers on my puckered lips nearly made me mad with lust. I was nearly out of my mind and found my hands reaching for my cock. Mark must have looked up because I was suddenly aware that he was no longer between my legs. I opened my eyes and he was standing over me with a pair of handcuffs in one hand and holding my wrists with the other.

“My, my,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t have my boy satisfying himself when he wants. You’re here to be given relief by your Master, not to take it for yourself.”

Saying this, he took my arms and put the cuffs around my wrists. Then he raised my arms over my head and hooked the cuffs to the end of the table. I whimpered and moaned.

“I’m sorry Sir. I won’t do it again. Please let me go. I won’t touch myself, I promise. Please!”

“I don’t think I can trust you boy,” he grinned. “You’re far too horny to control yourself. That’s one of the things a Master does for his boy: he disciplines and controls him. You should be grateful.”

His arched eyebrow told me he expected an appropriate response.

“Thank you for disciplining your boy Sir. He’s grateful.”

“You should be,” he said, smiling and smacking my bare butt. Then he went back to my ass.

He teased my hole mercilessly, thrusting his tongue in and wriggling it inside my eager fuck chute and scratching my ass lips with his fuzzy upper lip. I tried to grip his tongue with my sphincters but found that it was just too slippery and small. My chute wanted something larger inside to satisfy it.

“Please Mark,” I begged. “Please fuck me now before I go crazy!”

“I thought that’s what you wanted boy?” he teased. “Are you going to tell me now that you don’t want me to make you crazy?”

“Mark, I just want you in me. Please Mark,” I pleaded.

I felt him move from between my legs once more and come to my side. I looked up pleadingly into his blue eyes and he smiled at me.

“Alright my love. I’ll finish you off. But I think I’d better gag you. I can’t count on you keeping quiet and the cleaning people may be here before we’re finished. Raise your head up and open wide for the doctor. Say ‘ah’”

I lifted my head and opened my mouth saying “Ah” as ordered. Mark pushed a penis gag between my teeth turning my “Ah” into a gurgling, guttural moan. Then he snapped the strap behind my head. The gag was made of hard plastic and was hollow. As I explored it with my tongue, I realized it was perforated: a distinct advantage because it meant I could continue to breathe through my mouth as we moved along. If you’ve come while gagged with a solid gag, you know how tiny your nostrils can suddenly seem when you’re gasping for breath and can’t get air through your mouth. It’s like trying to breathe through a straw. While I was exploring the gag, Mark took some stretch bandages and bound my feet to the stirrups.

“Good,” Mark said. “That should hold you while I take care of that awful stress that’s been building up inside you. Oops, almost forgot.”

He pulled a pair of cloverleaf clamps from the pocket of his lab coat and dangled them over my face.

“Don’t want to forget your important erogenous zones do we boy?” he asked grinning at me.

I shook my head excitedly as Mark attached the clamps to my hard nipples, making me squeal through the gag. There was a little hook on the outside of the gag to which he attached the chain joining the clamps.

“Now, if you want to pull on your tits while I work your ass, all you have to do is pull your head back. Give it a try boy.”

I stretched my neck backward and sure enough, the tug on my chest sent more shivers of delight down my spine. They headed straight for my cock and it throbbed in pleasure.

“Right. Now let’s see what we can do about that problem of yours,” Mark said, stroking my quivering body.

He went to a locked drawer, inserted his key and opened it. I couldn’t quite make out what he was doing but in a couple of moments he came back and positioned himself between my legs. I heard him flip open a cap and soon his fingers were at my pulsing hole, pushing cool lube inside me. I immediately began to buck my hips and moan against the gag pressing my tongue down. I wanted this so much!

“I know you’d like me to fuck you my love, but I can’t today. You see, I asked for and got myself reamed a new asshole yesterday and I need to recover. So I’ll use another method that will help you. But I’m sure you’ll find it satisfying. Are you ready boy?”

I nodded frantically and begged with incomprehensible gruntings. Stop torturing me and do it! I felt something round and tapered push through my ass lips. It went in a bit farther until my sphincter objected and a bolt of fire shot through me.

“Breathe boy. In and out. In and out. That’s it. Relax boy,” Mark said, pressing the obdurator ever inward.

Soon my sphincters relaxed and accepted the intruder. My back relaxed and I settled onto the table, enjoying the sense of penetration. Then, suddenly, the object breaching my ass came alive. It was a vibrator! Mark slowly increased the speed while he pushed it in and pulled it out, fucking me with this living tool. My back was arched again, raising my abdomen off the table and thrusting my hard penis toward the ceiling. I jerked my head back and the yank on my nipples increased the sensations slamming into my brain four-fold. I was shouting into the gag and breathing hard as he took me to the edge. I was very glad he’d gagged me; otherwise I might have brought the police to investigate the disturbance in Dr. Andrews’ office. My cock spasmed several times, pulsing against my belly and then jets of hot jism shot from its tip, spewing across my chest and stomach. One dollop hit my face and the cum dripped through the perforations in the gag and eventually found its way down my gullet. I fell back on the table, panting and moaning. I was a very happy, relaxed boy. I looked into Mark’s shining blue eyes and tried to smile. I think he understood because he smiled back. He lifted my head with his hand and unsnapped the strap holding in the gag. Then he bent and lifted my head again; only this time it was to press our lips together. I was still bound, hands and feet, so all I could do was joyfully submit to his ravaging of my mouth with his tongue. Yes, I was a very happy boy!

I looked up at my lover and I knew my eyes were shining. God, I loved him. I suddenly realized that he’d chosen to go against his own grain. For me, because he loved me, he’d become the Top to give me pleasure. Couldn’t I do that for him? Surely he could show me how. But wait! I didn’t need him to show me how. What I saw now was that I could find pleasure in giving him pleasure just as he did for me. If fucking him gave him pleasure, I could certainly do that. As I was realizing this, I also realized my cock was hardening. I wanted to do this for him: I loved him and I wanted to make him happy; give him pleasure and satisfaction. Just thinking of doing that was making me hard. I wanted to fuck Mark. No, it wasn’t that I wanted to fuck him: I wanted to make love to him. I wanted him to know the joy and fulfillment with me in him that I felt when he was in me. I wanted him to find the same completion that I found in him.

As I was thinking about this, Mark was busy unbinding me. I lay there on the table looking at him and held out my arms to him. Smiling, he came to me and I pulled him close.

“Take your clothes off,” I ordered him with quiet urgency.

He looked a little surprised, then smiled and complied. I loved the look of his body; I always will. The firm chest, which was once again beginning to show evidence of the dark forest that would soon cover it. The brown nipples, the right one with a large gold ring piercing it. And his cock! It was a beautiful thing indeed. I looked into his beautiful blue eyes and smiled at him.

“Come here,” I said. “Climb up on the table with me.”

He lay on top of me and I wrapped my arms around him.

“I’m so grateful to be yours. I’m so grateful to have you. I can’t tell you how much I love you,” I whispered hoarsely, outlining his lips with my fingertip. “Do you feel this?” I asked, moving my stiffening cock so that it rubbed against his hole.

“Ummmmmm… Yes, I do,” he moaned.

“I don’t mean to hurt you,” I said. “I just want you to know that when you’re healed, when you’re ready, you’re going to have this inside you. And this time, it will be with love. I want to fuck you. I want to fill you with my love.”

“Promise me,” he said. “I don’t know of anything I’d like more.”

“I promise you,” I answered. “I promise it to you because I love you Mark Andrews.”

Our lips came together and we were lost in our love. But we were also finally found. We’d found ourselves in one another and we’d found what it meant for two men to love one another.