Gay Erotic Stories

A few days had gone by since my last visit to Mr Schulz. I had learnt that the redness on my bottom from the spankings Mr Schulz gave me was gone by the next morning. There was absolutely no way that my girlfriend should ever be allowed to see the effects of what Mr Schulz was doing to my bottom with those large, callous hands of his. I wouldn’t know how to begin to explain to her what was going on. I would perfectly understand any assumption on her part that I was acting on some homosexual desire, and yet this was definitely NOT the case as far as I was concerned. It did seem quite obvious, on the other hand, that there was a clear homosexual desire on the part of Mr Schulz. But even if I were able to convince her that there wasn’t a trace of gay aspiration on my part, this would only lead her to the question of how I had managed to get myself into this whole thing and why I continued not only going to see Mr Schulz, but also letting him undress me and spank me. I felt completely incapable of answering any of these questions. And finding a way out of the whole thing seemed impossible.

For the time being, there seemed to be no choice but at least to keep our arrangement for the next meeting. It was a relief that Mr Schulz didn’t have any way of contacting me directly, even though this meant that it was my boss who would inform me when my next appointment with Mr Schulz would be. In effect, my boss was sending me to get spanked by a man who had already decided that I was ‘his boy’.

Sure enough, before long my boss called my name as I was passing the open door to his office. I went back and stood in the doorway.

“Mr Schulz is ready to see you again. Tomorrow, 3pm again. No appointments after that.”

I nodded. He went on, looking at some scrap of paper on his desk:

“And he mentioned something about you both having some arrangement or other.” He looked at me with raised eyebrows. I felt myself break out in a cold sweat.

“Arrangement?” I stuttered.

“Arrangement, yes. Something he’d asked you to take with you.”

My mind raced; then I remembered the running shorts. I felt a flush of relief that it was nothing more than this, that my boss was still in the dark about the situation I had got myself into and that this was about taking a pair of running shorts with me that Mr Schulz would get me to change into either before or after spanking me. “Oh right! Good job you reminded me; he wouldn’t have been pleased if I’d forgotten them.”

“’Them’?” My boss kept his inquisitive gaze, but at that moment it didn’t even register. I made a mental note that under no circumstances must I forget my running shorts tomorrow when I go to visit Mr Schulz.

Later on that night my girlfriend put a question to me as we lay in bed. We had just made love and it had been particularly good. She commented on how good it was and added that we’d made love more frequently than usual over the past ten days or so. She asked me what had brought it on. I became aware of the fact that my lust had been almost overwhelming, causing us to have mad, passionate sex more often than we ever had before. I wondered for the first time if this could possibly have anything to do with my visits to Mr Schulz; the two things definitely coincided time-wise.

I was left with no option other than to lie to her, saying I had no idea but that if we started analysing it, it was bound to disappear just as quickly as it had come. When she had drifted off to sleep I lay awake for a while staring at the ceiling, trying to grasp the notion that Mr Schulz could influence my sexlife like this and wondering how on earth that could be possible. If anything, I would have expected my visits to Mr Schulz, being ‘his boy’, calling him ‘Sir’ and allowing him to undress me, fondle me, put me over his knee and spank me for as long as he wanted – to have an entirely destructive effect on my sexlife. I found no answer to this and fell asleep, content as you normally are after an evening of passionate sex.

The next day at the office my boss passed me in the corridor. “Don’t forget your visit to Mr Schulz later!” Was I getting paranoid or did I see him wink at me when he said that?

I wondered throughout my lunchbreak and for the rest of the afternoon how I could possibly get myself out of this trap with Mr Schulz. If I could get out of it now, I would even be prepared to say that I had no regrets about having been put through an experience that I would have otherwise missed out on.

But enough was enough. Mr Schulz seriously seemed to believe that he was going to make me ‘his boy’, and I felt a sense of shock every time I remembered how I just adapted and snapped into this role as soon as I was in his presence, allowing him to undress me, spank me, tell me what to do and make it clear that my body was his property… Whenever I was anywhere else, it was hard to understand. But somehow, when I was with Mr Schulz, disobeying him just didn’t seem a viable option.

My heart was beating fast when I knocked on Mr Schulz’s door. He opened it, eyeing me from head to toe before motioning to me with a sideways nod to step inside. I obeyed. His hand on my upper back urged me into the living room, where I put my sports bag down and looked at him, awaiting my next orders. It was going to be important to keep in mind that today would be my last visit, and that everything would be geared towards this objective.

He sat down on the sofa, still looking at me with the trace of a smile on his face. He very clearly enjoyed having me in this situation and entirely under his control. I really would have to see about getting out of this today.

“Boy?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Where are they?”

I have no idea why, but I just stared at him.

“Boy!”

“Sir?”

“Don’t you DARE fail to answer me when I ask you a question. I asked you where they were.”

My mind had gone blank; now I realised that he was talking about my shorts.

“My shorts, Sir?”

“What else do you think I’m talking about, boy?”

“I’m sorry, Mr Schulz, Sir. They’re here…”

I started to fumble with my sports bag. As a safeguard, I’d brought several pairs so that Mr Schulz would be able to choose which ones he preferred me in. I’d also remembered to bring a range of tops and t-shirts to go with the shorts. I’d picked the stuff I used at the gym or when I went running.

“When I ask you a question, you answer me, Boy. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mr Schulz, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Right… what has that earned you, boy?”

I thought quickly. “A spanking, Sir?”

“Damned right it has. You were going to get thoroughly spanked today anyway. It’s going to be a long session before I’m finished with you, with your body, with your bottom, boy…”

“Yes, Sir…” I wondered how long this was going to end up taking.

“Right. Show me your shorts, boy.”

“Yes, Sir.” I took out the various pairs I’d brought with me and showed them to Mr Schulz along with the t-shirts and trainers. I could see that he was pleased, and that made me feel pleased with myself. It was only later that I was to question this sense of pride linked to my desire to please Mr Schulz. I’d brought shorts of different lengths. Some stopped at the knees while others were very short and merely covered any underwear I might be wearing underneath. There were a couple of jockstraps I’d thrown in at the last minute, imagining that Mr Schulz could well want to see me wearing one of those.

He picked the shortest pair, a pair of Adidas shorts that were white with blue stripes.

“Your legs will look good in these, boy. Put them on. I want to see you in them.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I started to undress while standing in front of him. When I’d removed my trousers I paused before removing my underwear and looked at him inquisitively.

“Take them off,” he ordered.

“Yes, Sir.”

I pulled my underwear off and then put the shorts on. I’d removed my socks and was bare-chested. He seemed happy with that.

“Right. Come here, boy.” I approached him, and as soon as I was close to him his hands were on my thighs, rubbing them up and down, caressing them inside and out, grasping my calves and holding onto them. Every now and then he got me to flex my leg muscles for him while he rubbed and caressed my muscled legs. He turned me around to admire and caress my legs from behind. Then he would get me to turn back around to face him. Something like twenty minutes must have passed before he said:

“Right, boy. Over my knee.”

I obeyed him immediately. Still wearing my running shorts, I put myself into the same position over his knee and waited for my spanking.

“Right, boy. What happens now?”

“You spank me, Sir.”

“That’s right. And why’s that, boy?”

“Because my bottom is now your property and yours to spank whenever you see fit, Sir.”

“That’s right, boy. And what do you think of that?”

“It’s what Sir thinks that counts, Sir.”

“That’s right, boy. But now I give you permission to tell me what YOU think.”

“I feel privileged that Sir wishes to spank me. I’m sure that getting a spanking does me some good, and Sir knows exactly how and when to spank me.”

“And why am I ‘Sir’, boy?”

“You’re ‘Sir’ because I’m your boy, Sir. And my body and my bottom belong to you, Sir. That’s why Sir decides what to do to me, my body and my bottom and how and when to do it.”

“Right. You’re a lucky boy.”

“Yes, Sir. I’m a lucky boy. Thank you, Sir.”

While this dialogue went on, he kept his hand on my upper thigh, applying a little pressure every now and then.

“And now tell me what you would like me to do to you, boy.”

“Sir, please spank me, Sir.”

Without another word, he began to spank me. It wasn’t too hard at first, and it has to be said that he had a superb technique of spanking my bottom because it meant that I was able to take much more than I would normally be capable of standing. This meant that he could spank me for much longer. It’s not that it didn’t hurt; despite the pain I was able to take what Mr Schulz was doing to me.

After about half an hour he told me to stand up. I stood to the side of his lap and he reached out and pulled my running shorts down so that they were halfway down my thighs. He put one hand on my bottom and, to my shock, the other hand cupped my balls. I began to get nervous. This was not the way this should be going. It was not supposed to get sexual. If Mr Schulz could content himself with spanking me, I’d even consider further visits. But not this.

One hand continued to grip my reddened bottom while the other massaged my balls. I think that he was expecting this to give me an erection, but it didn’t. There was definitely some movement in my cock from the contact with someone else’s hand. But it was a man’s hand, and that just didn’t turn me on. I even found myself finding it a shame that it did nothing for me; since I was here at all and in this unusual situation, I might as well get some fun out of it. But that wasn’t to be. Pleasure and enjoyment were a privilege reserved to Mr Schulz.

“It’s warm in here,” Mr Schulz said. He got up and took off his shirt and trousers, leaving him in just his underwear. This made me feel even more uncomfortable, although there was something about Mr Schulz, his presence, his imposing body and even his scent that was frighteningly assertive.

Wearing just his underwear, he sat back down and motioned to me to get back over his knee, which I did without further delay. He then resumed my spanking on my bare bottom, making occasional comments about how pleasing he found the redness his handiwork was causing. As he spanked me, the pain increased and I squirmed about on his lap, aware of how my nakedness was in full contact with his hairy legs as my sweat mixed with his. I felt his leg hairs tickle and rub my chest, my thighs and even my cock and balls. At some point he took hold of the shorts which were around my knees and whipped them off me in one movement, leaving me completely naked over his lap.

This spanking must have gone on for something like an hour, and I was gradually getting to a point I’d never reached before: I was beginning to feel that I couldn’t take any more. And yet he continued. Whenever my hands acted on reflex and went to cover my bottom, he pulled them aside, holding onto them until I complied of my own accord. At some point this had clearly happened one time too many.

“Get up, boy,” he ordered, not sounding too pleased.

“Yes, Sir.” I jumped up nervously.

“Put your hands behind your back and stand up straight.”

“Yes, Mr Schulz, Sir.” I did exactly as I was told, prepared to do anything to avoid any further injury to my bottom. I dreaded to think what colour my bottom had now become and thought I’d be unable to sit down for another week.

I had no idea what Mr Schulz was doing behind me until I felt his hands on my wrists. Before I understood what was going on, he had my hands firmly tied behind my back. For a moment I panicked. Then I told myself that I was already his prisoner and that he was doing what he wanted to my body anyway, having taken possession of me. So him tying me up hardly made any difference.

“How DARE you interfere while I’m spanking your bottom, boy?”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“No you’re not.”

“Sir, please accept my apologies. I’m truly sorry.”

“Show it.”

“Sir…?”

“Show me you’re sorry, boy.”

Once again my mind went blank and I just stared at him before remembering that staring at him without responding to questions or orders got me into serious trouble. Before I knew it, he flung me back over his knee and continued spanking me. I was clearly well past my pain limit, and whereas before there had been the odd ‘ouch’ or sharp intake of breath from the pain, I could no longer stop myself from yelling at the top of my voice in pain. But that didn’t deter Mr Schulz. It was clear to both of us that if he wanted to spank me, spank me he would.

The pain was unbearable. The thought of the pain increasing filled me with terror; that to be avoided at all costs. I realised how stupid I’d been in allowing my mind to go blank, albeit for just a few seconds. If this biting pain was to be the result of ignorance or disobedience, then from now on I would never allow myself to ignore or disobey Mr Schulz again. Ever.

I don’t know how long the spanking went on for, but at some point when my head was beginning to feel numb he stopped.

“Boy!”

“Yes, Sir?”

“I’ll ask you again. Show me how sorry you are.”

My mind raced. This time there was no way that Mr Schulz wait in vain for an answer. I said the first thing that came into my head, just to buy myself some time.

“Sir, if Sir would like to issue orders to his boy…”

“That’s a good start, boy. And not a bad idea. But there’ll be plenty of time for that later and plenty of orders for you to follow with precision.”

“Yes Sir.”

“But for the moment I want you to come up with some way of showing me how sorry you are for slacking. How do you think you can best show me how sorry you are?”

His hand lay on my bottom and then started dancing around, his fingers drumming my skin restlessly. I racked my brains. I imagined that Mr Schulz was used to putting young men over his knee and spanking them and that many of them knew exactly how to please their master. This was all unchartered territory to me, and I needed to think fast. I remembered a femdom film I’d once seen. In one scene a young man licked his mistress’s boots in order to demonstrate his submission, before then gradually licking his way up her legs under her strict surveillance and instruction. It was all I could think of and I needed to come up with something fast because by now I really was prepared to do anything to save my bottom from further punishment.

“Sir…” I began, not quite able to believe what I was about to say.

“Yes, boy? Speak.”

“Sir… I could lick Sir’s feet if that would please Sir…”

Lying as I was over his lap, I turned to look at Mr Schulz. His face broke out into what looked like a mischievous or evil grin.

“Get up, boy.”

“Yes Sir.” I struggled to get up off his lap, hard as it was with my hands tied behind my back. Then I stood before him in the bondage he’d put me in and waited for his reaction.

“So you want to lick my feet, boy?”

“Yes Sir. And if Sir likes, I could also lick his legs. As Sir likes.”

It was a nerve-racking moment. Had I said the right thing or was my idea a nail in my coffin, as far as my bottom was concerned? I hardly dared look at Mr Schulz, and later I would wonder how it was that I could have wished for nothing more at that moment than for Mr Schulz’s approval and for him to allow me to commence with licking his feet.

“I’m very, very pleased with you, boy.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Once again there was that glow of pride in having won Mr Schulz’s approval. That was no easy task, but this instance showed that it was something I was capable of learning. It was a strange situation. It was more than clear that Mr Schulz found me attractive and that his spanking fetish was fed by this attraction to me, my body and my bottom, which his hands spent more time on than off. It was also probable that he intended our meetings to become sexual at some point. Despite nothing in my sexual orientation having changed, I was slowly able to understand why some men, and doubtlessly some women, felt a strong attraction for Mr Schulz. Everything about him was imposing and awe-inspiring. His presence, his personality, his glance and facial expression and, yes, even that incredibly masculine body of his. Since I’d entered adulthood, he was the first person to ever make me feel that there was something boyish about me.

And it was likewise becoming clear to me that I felt a touch of admiration for this man who was able to convince me to do things against my will. How many times in my life would I have loved a power like that; I thought things like that only existed in science fiction films. But he had that power over me, even though I was still unable to understand exactly why this was.

“Right, boy. Get to work then.”

“Yes, Sir.” I struggled again in order to get down onto the floor with my hands still tied behind my back. I brought my face close to Mr Schulz’s left foot until I was just millimetres away from it. I looked past his foot and up into his face. He was staring down at me, already looking quite satisfied and looking more powerful than ever.

“Go on, boy. What are you waiting for?”

“Yes, Sir.” I slowly took his big toe into my mouth and began sucking and licking it, all the time looking up towards Mr Schulz in order to be sure that what I was doing was to his liking. I became aware of the taste of the skin on his feet and was surprised that it didn’t bother me at all. I worked my way from toe to toe, working in the areas between his toes and sometimes trying to see how many of his toes I could fit in my mouth at once. There wasn’t a single moment when he didn’t look like he was enjoying the whole thing, and just like anything you do that’s successful, I actually started enjoying what I was doing because I could see I was doing it well. And this meant that I’d saved my bottom from having sustained damage done to it. I licked and licked, working my way over the sole of his foot while holding his gaze, then moving onto the top of his foot. At some point he instructed me to move on to the other foot.

“Yes, Sir.”

When I’d finished licking the other foot just as thoroughly as the first one, I wondered if he’d want me to go back to the first one. It entered my head that I could ask for permission to speak in that case and ask if I could have my hands untied from behind my back because it was getting very uncomfortable. But he spoke:

“Right, boy, now do my legs, just like you wanted to.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I worked my way up from his ankle, going slowly so as to be thorough rather than just to cover as much ground as possible. I noticed that his legs not only felt different (they were much hairier than mine); they also tasted quite different to his feet. When I was on his thighs, he even lifted them up one by one so that I could lick the backs. As I licked my way closer and closer to his crotch, it was difficult to ignore the enormous erection that was tenting his underwear. He must have known that I could see the state he was letting himself get into. Not only that, I could also smell the fact that he was aroused. I’d never smelt a man in a state of genital arousal before, and I never thought I’d get to do it from as close up as this. I have to say that it did absolutely nothing for me; I wasn’t in the least aroused, unlike Mr Schulz. But it didn’t really bother me either, which surprised me a bit. I think that I was far too aware of my sense of achievement in having got Mr Schulz into this state from having given him such pleasure by licking him.

He widened his legs a little in order to make his inside thighs more accessible. I’d already licked his inside thighs, but by opening them wider he made the top parts accessible that were on either side of his balls. This really went further than I thought was a good idea, but this had all been my idea. And there was no way I wanted to risk another spanking, despite the burning pain on my bottom having subsided a little. Hindered somewhat by my hands, which were still bound behind my back, I pushed my face forward into the crevice between his balls and his thighs. He was hairier here, and his scent was much stronger. I felt his balls against one side of my face and his sweaty thigh on the other; I never would have imagined getting this close to this man. I opened my mouth and licked Mr Schulz in this very intimate area, my mouth filling with the way he tasted, which was much, much stronger here. After a while he took my head and without a word guided it to the other side, this time helping me by pushing my face firmly into the crevice between his thigh and his balls. Without needing to be told I opened my mouth and continued licking, the taste of Mr Schulz continuing to fill my mouth and cover my face. Every so often I would look up towards Mr Schulz and he gave a faint smile through narrowed eyes, which met mine briefly as I looked up at him with my opened mouth pressed into his crevice, making sure he could feel my tongue licking him. Now and then he growled slightly and massaged his crotch. I felt the enormous erection in his underwear poking the side of my face as I licked him. It was oozing precum into the fabric of his underwear, and as I licked Mr Schulz it was getting smeared over the side of my face.

Mr Schulz was pleased with me, and that made me pleased with myself. I’d succeeded in warding off another spanking.

“Right, boy. Up you get.”

“Yes Sir.”

I stumbled to my feet, still finding it hard to find and keep my balance with my hands tied behind my back. I wondered if that may be it for today. This was the longest session so far.

“OK boy, back over my lap.”

My heart sank but by now I knew better than to argue or to allow myself the slightest moment’s hesitation.

“Yes Sir,” I answered, immediately lowering myself over his lap into the familiar position. He must have sensed my dismay because he spoke as he laid his hand upon my bottom.

“I know you’ve had more than you thought you could take today, boy. And you’ve been very good. So I’m going to go easy on you. I’m going to give you just a light spanking now, and then you’ll be given a choice.”

“Choice, Sir?”

“Yes, boy. You’ll find out soon enough after your spanking.” And with that he started spanking me again. It was less rough than the last spanking, and my bottom had had time to calm down while I’d been licking Mr Schulz. It still hurt, but it was bearable. This spanking went on for about ten or fifteen minutes, getting more intense towards the end so that I was once again approaching my limits. Then he stopped.

“Right, boy. Now your choice. It’s hole gymnastics or another spanking, but a harder spanking.”

“Hole gymnastics, Sir?”

“Yes, boy. It won’t hurt, you’ll just have to get used to it. I’m going to open and stretch your arsehole while you’re over my lap. Now that you’re my boy and your arse is my property, it’s high time to break you in. I’ve noticed while I’ve been working on your bottom that nothing’s been up that hole of yours yet. It’s time to change that.”

I panicked. “Sir… Sir… I…”

He squeezed my bottom with his hand and then spanked it a few times. “You’ve nothing to worry about, boy. I know what I’m doing and you know that you can trust me.”

At that moment he shocked me, and I shocked myself. He was right. Although this man scared me and had me completely under his power, I honestly felt I could trust him. I knew that it would be okay to lie over his lap, my bottom and anus at his full disposal while he explored me.

“And it’s either that or another spanking, boy. Like I said, it’s your choice. Either I spank you again, or you ask me to take possession of your anus.”

As I lay over his lap looking down at the carpet, I heard myself say: “Please take possession of my anus, Sir.”

TO BE CONTINUED _______________________

If you liked this story, let me know. If you didn’t like it, let me know what you didn’t like about it, what you missed or what you would change (I’m genuinely curious and love to hear people share). If you have any inspiration you want to share about how it could or should continue, let me know. Email: nrutas@gmx.de