BDSM Library - The Story Of Indio

I tell this story about my friend Indio, who I grew up with

I tell this story about my friend Indio, who I grew up with. Indio is dead now, gay plague got him at the age of thirty-nine. He and I were orphans together in a place I’ll call Boysville, though nobody knew Indio’s story. I got a bad enough deal—my folks, whoever they were—didn’t bother to give me a front or middle name, just initials, but “Abandoned Infant Indio” was all that was on Indio’s birth certificate.

Indio showed up at Boysville when he was a youngster, after a dozen or so years in orphanages, group homes, blah blah. No one wanted to adopt or foster him, since Indio was some kind of half-breed, and he was a scrawny one at that.

Eugene and I took Indio under our wing after we watched him crying because he’d been beaten by a couple of the “counselors” at Boysville—and bullied by some of the older boys. I won’t say that Boysville was a horror show like some of those places, but there were a few rotten apples.

Eugene, Indio and I had three things in common that make life hell in the System. We were small, we were smart, liked books, sarcastic sense of humor, all that, and worst, we were queer. And that was bad enough without Indio crying and weeping when he was knocked around by the predators.

A few years before Indio got to Boysville, Eugene and a guy who left called the Mongrel had “toughened” me up—it had taken a week, and as soon as I’d gone through a week or two of it, I could handle myself, and I didn’t want any more toughening.

Eugene had only had to tie me down a couple of times naked and whip my ass with a strop before I learned fast not to make too much noise, and then I was tough, and the Mongrel taught me to use my hands, which took care of the bullies.

But Indio…was different. I remember how we were watching Millard, the bullying counselor whipping Indio’s ass because he’d forgotten to do a good job of cleaning Millard’s office, and Indio had cried like a baby, especially when Millard had twisted Indio’s tiny little nutsack, as the kid’s pants were twisted around his knees.

“Indio, Hooks and I are going to teach you to be a man!”Millard had said with fourteen year old rage. Indio had made no protest when we’d ordered him to strip down and lie on his bed in the dorm while everyone else was at chores.

I’d tied Indio’s little wrists behind his back with clothesline, and knotted his ankles together, and stepped back as Eugene had come forth with the tools that he’d used on me—the first being a straightened coat hanger with a black tape handle.

I’d burst into tears when Eugene had lashed me with the damn thing, but after two or three beatings, I’d been able to laugh when creeps like Millard had tried to work me over using just a weeny little plastic paint-paddle.

WHACK! WHACK! As Eugene had lit into Indio with the coat hanger, it was shocking. Indio didn’t cry at all. Even when I saw the welts rising up on his little brown buttocks. Indio didn’t make a sound. Finally, Eugene stopped.

“Hey man, you’re not in shock are you?” Eugene looked really concerned, and Eugene wasn’t shocked easily, having seen his mother blow her brains out on the kitchen table ‘cause his dad, Gene the Goat, was cheating on her.

Eugene saw this grisly scene when he was only seven years old. And then Gene the Goat had rubbed Eugene’s face in his mom’s blood. Eugene professed having no pity for anyone but you could tell he was real messed up over this.

But Indio looked up from his bound position and grinned at Eugene, though there were tears in his beautiful brown eyes. “No, I’m okay. Do it some more if you want to.” Indio paused. “I need to learn to be tough.”

Eugene looked at me, and looked at Indio. “You little asshole, if you can keep your tongue when I give it to you like that, why the fuck can’t you do it when Millard hits you?” I joined in, saying “Fuck man, I’d cry even now with that kind of whipping.”

Indio smiled at me, but it was kind of a buddy smile—Indio and I were brothers, not lovers, though I guess in a way I was always a little bit in love with him. But then Indio turned to Eugene.

“I know you’re doing this because you love me, Eugene, and I love you too…and I need to get hit a little bit, I don’t know why. But I know what I need.”

After this, I kind of felt as if I belonged elsewhere…can’t really explain it. So I split.

Eugene never told me much about what happened between them, but Indio’s a fucking blabbermouth…I guess we’re girlfriends at heart. I’d tell Indio about my affair with the Boysville bus driver, and he’d tell me about him and Eugene…and in that I learned about sadomasochism for the first time.

I still don’t really get it, hurting and wanting to be hurt, but I’m just the scribe here. I kept journals throughout my life, and so I’ll tell you as much as I can about what Indio told me, and try real hard not to interpret.

It turned out that Indio liked getting spanked or something—they potty-trained at the State Infant Home by just beating the shit out of you, and Indio somehow, I don’t know, got it.

And Eugene was one little sadist, though he’d never take it out on an unwilling participant, thank goodness. But he beat the shit out of Indio that day, warning Indio never to cry again when Millard whipped him, and Indio promised, and then I understand there was some fellatio between the two of them. And then more stuff happened, as time went by.

Indio himself told me “Hooks, I loved Eugene from the start, and there was so much he could teach me, and much of it was through punishment. Eugene began whipping me every other day with hairbrushes, cut spruce switches from the woods, and when I was real bad, thorny rose branches…and I took it and took it!”

But Eugene was a cruel motherfucker at times—I came in one day to the dorm and Eugene was smoking a cigarette, and he had his feet crossed on a trunk, but occasionally, he would jab it with one foot, and laugh.

This relationship between Eugene and Indio continued for three and a half years, until Eugene turned eighteen in 1965 or ’66 and left. It had been a very secretive relationship, though Indio had wanted the world to know that he was Eugene’s slave.

Indio had begged Eugene to humiliate him in public all over Boysville, but Eugene had had enough common sense to see that Indio would have been tremendously victimized had this happened. But in a way, it benefited me, that I knew.

I was always telling Indio about Perkins (the bus driver’s) big dick and how much I enjoyed it, but we both knew that I had the hots for him a little bit.

So now and then, though Indio was not attracted to me at all, Eugene would call us both out in the woods, and he’d strip Indio naked in front of me, and give Indio a good thrashing with a rubber fan belt or that nasty straightened coat hanger…and then he’d order Indio to suck my dick and lick my balls.

And Indio would look at Eugene with tears in his eyes and beg off, but you could tell how hard Indio’s cock was while he was thinking about being forced to suck the dick of his ugly ol’ friend Hooks.

My memories of being in the woods, and Eugene ALWAYS dragged us to some place where there was lots of broken glass from where some of the boys would smuggle in beer…and Indio was forced to kneel naked while Eugene and I were in our jeans and T-shirts…and Indio would beg with tears in his eyes.

I guess if I’d been a better friend to Indio I would have walked off, but Indio was so beautiful—gorgeous tan skin, deep eyes…his pretty little nipples with their dark areolas just made me crazy. Sometimes Eugene would bring clothespins or mousetraps and lock them on Indio’s nipples, and then he’d just curse Indio out.

“You pitiful little queer—I can’t believe that Hooks and I can stand looking at you, you’re so ugly and brown and worthless.” And Indio, even though he knew that Eugene loved him, would weep bitterly, kneeling naked on the broken glass. And I’d be watching Indio’s dick…someone had circumsized him, and it was just bulging in this tan glow, you know?

"Please Master, I love you, Master...I'd do anything for you!"

And it was true...he'd eat Eugene's cigarette butts, and lick the dirt off Eugene's boot-bottoms...it was sick...but Indio's petitioning Eugene did almos no good.

Then Eugene would lean down and grab Indio’s beautiful, delicate little ear and just twist it unmercifully. Indio would be sobbing, his hands behind his back, he was so beautifully disciplined that he could hold them there without them being tied, though he loved being tied.

“The only way that Hooks and I can stand to be around you is if you suck both our dicks, and you have to do Hooksy’s first, boy!” And then Indio would look at me, and I’m not a handsome guy at near sixty and I wasn’t then, either.

Indio would say “I like Hooks, but he’s UGLY.” And for a moment the three of us would laugh—it hurt me a little bit, but I had all the dick I could handle. I had appeal, you know? And the fact that Indio thought I was ugly didn’t bother me, well maybe a little bit. But I knew he cared.

Then Eugene would order Indio to bury his face in the glass and the cigarette butts and he’d whale on Indio’s ass for twenty minutes or so, and I’d have to keep from grabbing Eugene’s arm. Sometimes there would be blood, but I’d just stand there.

Finally, he’d ask again if Indio would suck “Master” Hookmyer’s dick, and Indio would crawl wearily over to me and unzip my pants and pull my long, thick penis out and just suck on it like there was nobodys business…oh, it felt good!

And I’d cum all over Indio’s face, and then he’d shuffle on his knees to Eugene and suck HIS dick as well, and then Eugene would make Indio do mine again…we were teenagers, and there was lots of energy in our dicks!

Finally after Eugene and I had both cum about six times, then Indio was allowed to jerk off onto Eugene’s boots and lick it up. Sometimes Indio would beg Eugene to let him do it in private, but Eugene was a nasty sonovabitch, though a good guy in general.

Sometimes it had been a while since Indio had jerked off… a lot of times when he and Eugene were in private, after they’d been fishing or in the Boysville swimming hole, Indio would suck Eugene’s dick for hours, having him cum again and again…and then Eugene would corn-hole Indio, but he wouldn’t let him cum at all.

So after Eugene and I had gotten our relief and Indio was jerking off, sometimes right as Indio was about to squirt, Eugene would start whaling on Indio with whatever he’d brought to beat Indio with…he’d swat Indio’s dick with the straightened coat hanger, and the boy would cry, but not make a sound.

Then Eugene would order Indio to start jerking again, and right at the point that Indio was going to cum, Eugene would whack Indio again, until Indio was trembling so hard he was afraid to cum!

But finally Eugene would let Indio cum and the kid would just make a real mess! Whooie!

And then, even though it was on the ground, Eugene would kick the shit out of Indio, slapping him and twisting Indio’s hair, kicking Indio in the stomach as the boy curled up crying…”You little piece of shit, how dare you sully our national forests with your gross spooge! Lick that up, right in the dirt, come on, you little half-breed piece of vomit. Get down there!”

And as Indio bent over, and was licking in the dirt, damned if Eugene wasn’t whaling the shit out of the boy, to the point that a tough faggot like me had to turn around…I just couldn’t watch. But Indio loved it!

But no matter how hard Eugene was on Indio, the kid just loved him!

Eugene wasn’t that much better looking than me—red hair and freckles—but Indio really loved him. Then about an hour later we’d three all be dressed and playing cards with some other guys, and joke around…but the secret would be between us until the next time…

But most of the time it was just Eugene and Indio doing their thing together….and that was great, because I really hated seeing the little guy hurt. And we had more fun as pals, the three of us, making smartass comments, reading books together, smoking weed.

And then Eugene left, and told us he was joining the Marines. It knocked Indio out, but we couldn’t blame Eugene for leaving, it was hell at Boysville if you wanted to have any kind of life.

And frankly, though I never said this to Eugene or to Indio, I think Indio was more into Eugene than Eugene was into Indio. In the next two years, Indio got about five letters from Eugene, and they were all co-addressed to me.

But then the letters stopped coming, and Indio got real depressed. And he might have gotten no clue about what the hell was going on, had Sumner Beale, the head of Boysville, not gotten Indio in trouble. What happened next was a really, really strange story.

INDIO CHAPTER TWO

Sumner Beale, who at that time was Associate Director of Boysville wasn't a bad guy, and as I stayed on at Boysville as an employee, we became friends so I heard Sumner's side of what happened between him and Indio, as well as Indio's version. As he is also long dead, I can tell the nearly 40 year old story, don't you think?

Sumner was a pervert S&M type, just like Indio and most of y'all reading this tome. Somehow he'd supervised a surprise drug search throughout the youth cottages, and they came across Indio's stash of bondage and gay S&M magazines, and more than a few millimeter films that Eugene and Indio had often sneaked into the Boysville film room. So Sumner called Indio, now eighteen but not quite ready to leave Boysville, into his office.

In 1968, they didn't really have counseling even for homosexuals, much less S&M paraphilia addictions, and there were ridiculous, draconian penalties for dirty magazines and even masturbation. Ridiculous, but true. Indio was in his senior year in the highschool in town (Most of us quit in 9th grade) and he had a college scholarship in the offing, to a religious school...and this would nix it, pornfiend stuff.

o, Indioee got a problem here.?Sumner looked at Indio with total lust. Indio was now in the blossom of young manhood, and was quite fit in a snug T-shirt, his muscles quite hard from toiling on the Boysville Farm. oue got theseeriodicals and films, and I am afraid if the Director finds out about it all, hel let them know about it at Georgetown University. He very Catholic, Indio, and?

I not sure what Sumner expected Indio to do, would he cry, or storm out? Of course Sumner was hoping to blackmail Indio into some kind of liaison sex-wise, but I think he thought that he have to bully Indio a little bit.

Indio shook his long, black hair and laughed. t shocking, is it, Mr. Beale? Shit, man. Why haven you told the Director yet? What, did he think I was going to become a priest??lt;/DIV>

Indio then had laughed in Sumner face, and as he told me later, Sumner looked like a big red beet, as he was getting annoyed. ook here, Indio, it a full scholarship to one of the most prestigious Catholic institutions in the United States. We worked hard to get it for you?this was a lie; Indio got it because he had beau-coup SAT scores)nd I don know why they should take a student in that is also a sexual pervert.?lt;/DIV>

Indio laughed. hat, do you mean Drumbeat magazine? Is that a magazine for perverts? Gee, and I still have the first one I ever saw, five, six years ago. I dug it out of the garbage, some pervert around here was subscribing to it.?lt;/DIV>

Sumner slammed his fist against the desk ou should have left it in the garbage! That where stuff like that belongs! Thathat? Sumner paused then. hose garbage can did you get it out of?

Indio laughed in Sumner face. t still has the subscriber label on it, though I imagine it came in a brown bag, Mr. Beale. Perhaps I should show ithe original magazineo our religious Director. He might be even more upset by Drumbeat magazine subscriber than little old me.?lt;/DIV>

About a month later, Indio summoned me into the woods, to the place where Eugene used to give him beatings, and wasn I horrified to find Sumner Beale, Associate Director of Boysville, standing there too, in his suit. We were quite surprised to see each other.

ndio, why is Hookmyer here??Sumner said sharply, and I was surprised as well. I was working in the Boysville motor pool, and had hoped to just sneak off to share an afternoon joint with Indio, and what the hell was going on.

ooks, I wanted you to come as a witnessr. Beale has been a bad boy, and Ie brought him here to take a severe punishment.?Indio was trimming a long spruce switch, and slapping it against his hand.

Sumner coughed. his is an outrage..this? But of course what could he say? Indio had told me nothing of the meeting with Sumner, except that he had beaten the rap, but now I was going to learn to what extent.

ou remember how we were complaining that the kitchen has cut the budget for dessert this month? Well, that was Mr. Beale decision, so they could hire more math tutorsnd I think that a bit annoying for us strong blooded youth. You deserve a punishment, Mr. Beale. Remove your suit immediately.?lt;/DIV>

I watched in amazement as Sumner Beale began arguing with Indio, instead of just cuffing him on the side of the head. But Indio began counting down from twenty, and Sumner removed his bow tie, dropping it on the ground, and then undid his jacket and shirt buttons.

When Sumner was naked, Indio talked to me as if he weren there, shivering in the chilly early May weather. ooks, Sumner Beale is a bad boy, and I feel so hurt in having to punish him. This is heartbreaking to me.?lt;/DIV>

o that was the um, outcome of the porn interview, right? He your uh, slave.?I was just goggling at the two of them. amn Sumner, Eugene would be proud.?lt;/DIV>

hat right, Hooksan you believe this sodomite? Indio suddenly swung the spruce switch in his hand, landing it hard on Sumner backside?would have the nerve to blackmail me. ME. IQ 175!?With this egocentric comment, Indio went into a rage.

WHACK! THWACK! WHACK! WHACK! As Sumner Beale tried to dart away, Indio grabbed his arm and bent it behind his back, slamming Sumner over a stump. Up and down the switch fell, and Sumner, not a stoic like Indio, began screaming and crying.

Suddenly, Sumner broke away and tried to run off, but then jogged back. hat wrong, Mr. Beale??Indio snorted. ou can run off without your clothes, right? Maybe wel take these clothes and burn them."

What could Sumner do? And you could see that he was hard. Part of him liked this immensely. aster Indio, please let me off, Sir. I sorry about the tutors and the desserts sorry I tried to blackmail you.?lt;/div>

Indio just snorted, flexing his arms in his wife-beater tank top. Indio had beautiful, golden pecs, and Sumner watched him hungrily.

Later I learned that they been meeting secretly in Sumner office, and also at his house, which was right outside Boysville (of course, since that where Eugene and Indio found the first copy of Drumbeat Magazine.) In the past thirty days, Sumner had become quite the little slave of Indio, and in my opinion, Indio was taking advantage shamelessly.

sn he chubby??Indio asked me as we stood in the woods, watching Sumner shiver. e doesn jog, he doesn work out, he just eats like a rutting pig. Do some jogging, boy!?With that, Indio whacked Sumner on his plump asscheeks and our Associate Director shrieked and began running off, with Indio after him, flailing away.

I watched in amusement as they did about four laps around the woods before Sumner came bobbling back with Indio following. Apparently there was a lot of that going on at Sumner house, too. Indio would sit on a chair and swing his belt, cracking Sumner ass or flicking it against Sumner hip, like you do to another guy with a towel in the gym, while giving Sumner orders. et my cigarettes!?flick thwap! ring me a sandwich!?lt;/div>

And then of course Indio would pretend to get disgruntled because Sumner was being assy? and he turn Sumner over the armchair of his sofa and begin landing the belt against Sumner ass until the poor Associate Director was in full tears, biting the sofa cushions to keep from screaming.

At the end of the activity in the woods, Indio ordered the Associate Director of Boysville,a man I had been in fear of since I'd arrived at the orphan farm in my fifth year, to suck my cock and lick my boots, and that was quite a nice feeling.

As was the raise that Indio ordered Sumner to give me for my good work in the Boysville motor pool. Sonofabitch if I didn't end up working at Boysville for eleven years after I was old enough to leave! (That bus driver had a Biiig dick, and that might have been the lure for me.)

Soon it was June, and Indio was graduating from the high school in town. Sumner Beale and I attended, and there had been a congratulatory letter from Eugene, now chauffering a lieutenant general around at a base in the Phillipines. Humble work,but better than going to Vietnam, which was claiming an alarming number of Boysville residents. (I'd offered my draft board a group blowjob, which had nicely 4-F'd me.)

"My goal is to get back together with Eugene, but I guess he's not going to be back in the States, so I might as well take this crummy scholarship."Indio told me.

Sumner didn't take it well that Indio was leaving, and he begged him constantly to stay around and go to the local community college.

"Or I could go with you." Sumner said, lying in his bathtub. I was watching Indio teach Sumner autofellatio, or how to suck his own dick.

WHACK! Indio landed his belt across Sumner's bare stomach. "Shut up, Sumner...I'm sick of you, you're a whining excuse for a submissive, and frankly, I'm off for better things." Indio said severely, waving the buckle end of the strap at Sumner. "Now grab your thighs."

"But Indio, you're the love of my life..tell him, Hooks!" WHACK! WHACK! The belt landed on Sumner's thigh--Indio couldn't reach Sumner's butt because Sumner was lying on it--"P-please Master!"

Finally Indio pulled up Sumner's leg from the bathtub, and landed four hard ones across Sumner's flabby ass, and the Boysville Associate Director burst into tears.

"Jesus, Hooks what a pain in the ass!" Indio said savagely. "Here I have the bastard lying in his tub so he can arch his back enough to suck his own dick, and he's just interrupting me. As you remember, Eugene taught me to do it by just jacking my legs over my head, but Sumner here is too goddam fat."

Indio slammed the belt against Sumner again. "Now shut your face and walk your feet up the wall, so you can pull your back down into the tub, or I am going to make you scream!" Indio looked so frightening that Sumner shut up and pulled his butt and his head down until his hips were out of the end of the tub.

Indio winked at me. "this is a good project for Sumner. I've ordered him to only get off by sucking his own dick after I'm gone, and it's lucky he has this nice tub to train his body in instead of sharing a shower with 200 other delinquents like we've had to do at Boysville our whole lives."

Finally Sumner's hips were right over his face in the bathtub and Indio and I pushed on Sumner's butt until his penis was shoved right in his mouth.

"Now suck boy!" Indio ordered harshly. Sumner looked hesitant, and kept babbling about Indio leaving, so Indio whacked Sumner's ass as it was now conveniently over his head. WHACK! CRACK! SLAP!

Sumner began bellowing, but finally our Director took his own cock in his mouth and immediately let go of it. "It tastes awful!" Sumner complained.

"Hah!" Indio winked at me again. "All the dicks you've sucked in your life, including mine, and you can't suck your own...it's just oral masturbation, Sumner."

Indio used the belt like an artist, until Sumner was thorougly marked...and finally the Associate Director took his dick back in his mouth and began sucking with gusto.

"You have to cum faster, Sumner, or I am going to tie you in the bathtub all night like this!" Indio warned. Sumner was terrified, and began sucking faster and faster, and finally had a nice mouthful of spew. We let him out of the tub and the three of us went out for a beer--it was Indio's last night.

The next day, Inido took off for Georgetown University in DC, and I didn't see him much for the next few years. Everything I tell you about Indio's adventures after this come from a compilation of his letters and phone calls, and what I know of his character.

Indio drove into Washington D.C. as Sumner had made Indio a present of his VW Bug. He knew no one at the prestigious Georgetown University, having lived his whole life as an impoverished and institutionalized orphan, but first thing you know he has a slave.

Sipple Knox was what they call a "fourth generation legacy", a rich boy who didn't have a lot of smarts, and just got into Georgetown 'cause all his relatives did. Sip couldn't take his eyes off Indio, though--partially because they were roommates.

Only my Indio could turn his previously heterosexual assigned dorm-fellow into a slave lackey boy. Sip was fascinated by Indio, but at first he thought it was just because of Indio's muscles--as I've said before, Indio was either a half-Arab, or half-Indian, and they're not known for muscle, but Indio had quite a bit of it, though he was very slender and not that tall.

Indio spent a lot of time sleeping on his bed the week before classes started, and Sip was always jabbering to Indio about how good he looked. Just, of course because Sip thought he wanted workout tips from Indio. Of course.

Indio chapter three

Indio was amused by Sip, and allowed him to tag along wherever Indio went. Sip's girlfriend was annoyed by all the time that Sip spent with Indio, as were Sip's friends, who couldn't understand why Sip was spending all this time with a "nigra" As you know in 1968, a lot of people were still in the woods about racism.

Indio had an old soul for a child of eighteen, and wasn't much interested in the traditional post-adolescent activities, keg parties, football games, levitating the Pentagon, all that nonsense.

Indio spent a lot of time reading his favorites since childhood--Dewey, Emerson, Hegel, Hobbes, Hume, Kant, Leibniz, Locke, Machiavelli, Mill, Plato, ... and of course, studying his mathbooks, as he was a math major.

But our boy Sip just bothered Indio so much--and then one day Indio caught Sip watching him shower. And Indio got annoyed, especially since Sip was playing with his pee-pee.

"Zip up, Sip!" Indio ordered, as he got out of the shower. "Jesus, man, what the fuck's wrong with you?"

Indio took Sip by the collar and shook him. "I've put up with you staring at me while I'm asleep, following me around and talking to me while I'm trying to read...but you must be such a homo to be choking your chicken while I'm showering!"

Indio shook Sip again. "I think I'm going to have to tell the Dean that we have a pervert in our midst, and you know how the good Fathers will feel about that."

Sipple was terrified. "Please, Indio, don't tell them anything!" His eyes rolled in back of his head. If Sipple had had any common sense, he probably would have realized that no one cared about Indio, a half-breed scholarship tick without even a last name.

After all, Sip was rich and alumni connected, and his granddad had built the school a gym just to ensure Sip's admittance! But Sip looked so pathetic that Indio let go of him for a moment.

"Look, you're off the hook, Sippie." he said as he took his towel off and rubbed his lovely naked brown body with it, making sure all his pectorals and his beautiful nipples were dry.

Indio pretended not to notice Sip watching him hungrily. "Maybe I'll just move to another room." Indio said. "That'd be good enough, and some guys in the Math Club would be happy to have me in their frat." But this was too much for Sip.

"No, please don't leave, Indio." he begged. "I'll do anything to have you stay. I couldn't live with myself if you were gone. I just broke off with Babs because she was complaining that we hang out too much...p-please, I'll do anything."

Indio then looked at Sip severely. "Well, if I let you stay, you'll have to be punished for your perverted interest in me."

"An-anything." Sip then said, but his tone was a little scared. They went back to the dorm room, and Indio dressed and locked the door, and took Eugene's old straightened coat hanger with the hockey tape on the end out of the drawer.

"What's that?" Sipple asked nervously, as Indio took a couple of practice swings in the air. "This is what my brother of choice in the orphanage used on me when I got out of line." Indio said firmly. "It made me the man I am today."

Indio turned and looked at Sip steadily. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to see my body, Sip, but there's a lot wrong with sneaking around and not admitting that you're a full-fledged faggot, just as I am. Take down your pants, young man."

Now it must be mentioned that Sipple was actually a sophomore, and at least a year and a half older than Indio. So the "young man" comment was rather strange.

But Sip's dick got hard as he heard that--later he told Indio that his grandfather, Sipple II, had often said the same words to young Sip, as Sipple II deplored Sipple IV's raising at the hands of his too indulgent parents.

Many times when Sip had been visiting his grandfather's farm in the summers and had fucked up in some way--stealing jam or whatnot--his grandfather had taken Sip's pants down and given him severe "larrupings" as they were called.

So Sip, sweating bullets, undid his pants in front of Indio, and pulled them down, undies as well. "Over your bed, Sip." Indio said and the bigger boy lay across his bed, closing his eyes in terror.

"Now I want you to tell me how grateful you are that I'm taking the time to punish you, Sipple." Indio said solemnly. "After every lash from my uh, lasher I want you to thank me--say, 'Thank you, Indio for taking the time to help me.' All right?"

Sip nodded affirmatively. Indio got pissed off. "That's no way to answer me. God, you make me sick." WHACK! There was a thin red line across Sipple's fat buttocks. "Well?" Indio demanded.

Sip coughed. "Th-thank you Indio for helping me out." WHACK WHACK WHACK! "Goddamn it Sipple, I told you to say 'Thank you, Indio for taking the time to help me.' not some mumble that you came up with. We'll try again."

Indio lifted the coat hanger again and landed the vicious steel wire across Sipple's butt. "Th-thank you--oh it hurts--Indio for-for-"

"Taking the time" Indio prompted, and then whacked Sip again. "Why don't you start over." WHACK WHACK

Now Sip was sobbing. "Thank you, Indio for taking the trouble to help me."

Indio became very upset. "Now I told you to use the word 'time' and you used the word 'trouble'. I get the impression that you are sassing me, Sip."

Sipple howled. "No, it just hurts so much, Indio--I have trouble concentrating."

Indio shook his dark head. "I'm afraid that's not much excuse, as certainly you concentrated well enough when you were staring at me in the shower!" Indio ordered Sipple to rise.

"I think I'm going to have to punish your dick for distracting you so much." Indio said, tapping the coat hanger against his palm. " You're half naked--why don't you take your clothes off and stand in front of me, and we'll take care of this penis problem." This time Sipple gulped, and as they say in 7-Eleven parlance, it was a Big Gulp.

Now Sip was standing in front of Indio, trembling, but his cock was getting hard against its will. I can imagine Indio staring daggers at Sip, wearing his tight black turtleneck or one of his muscle shirts, and Sippers just couldn't stop being excited.

Indio put the coat hanger back in the drawer and took a wooden third-grade school ruler with "PROPERTY OF BOYSVILLE-FRANKFORT" on the back. and rubbed it gently up and down his fingers.

Eugene had done quite a bit of genitorture on poor Indio in his time, after he'd learned that Indio was a natural masochist, so perhaps Indio wanted to get some of his own back. Sip was terrified, but Indio could tell he was also compelled.

Suddenly there was a knock on the dorm room door. "Hey Sip" came the voice of Diocletian "Binky" Soames. "Come on out and shoot baskets with us, and then we're going to Lauren's party in Foggy Bottom. She's got a whole apartment to herself, man...and her friends are going to be there."

Indio softly said, "Sip, if you want to go, I won't stop you man. This punishment is for your own good, but you can go if you like." Sip shook his head.

"Binky, it's okay, I got some studying to do, and Indio's helping me. Have a blast!"

"You sure?"Binky couldn't believe that Sip would turn down possible sex at Lauren's.

"No, go ahead." Sip said. Indio smiled at Sip and reached over and began casually stroking Sip's cock, making it harder. "You're quite the boy there, Sipple. You know what you need from Daddy, and I'm damn proud of you."

Sip blushed under Indio's praise. He'd gotten not much real praise from his rich parents, who gave him whatever he wanted, and Sip's grandfather who had provided all the firm love Sip needed, had died when Sip was in high school.

"Now you're going to prove to me that you're a big, brave boy, Sip!" Indio said with geniuine love. "Put your hands behind your back and jut out your cock."

"B-but maybe we can stop now..." Sip said hesitatingly "I mean...I've been good." Sip was scared to death, but you could tell how hard his cock was. "I thought maybe we could fool around a little."

Indio smiled at Sip. "Haven't you ever heard the saying, 'After the feast, there's the reckoning?' Well, you had your feast watching me in the shower, and now comes your reckoning...and then maybe there will be another feast, maybe not."

Sip ended up jutting his penis out and closing his eyes. Sip put his hands behind his back. Indio lifted the ruler over Sip's penis. SNAP! Sip was somewhat of a tough guy, he'd played halfback for the football team at the Hill School as a teenager, but the crack of the wooden ruler against his cock was nasty.

SNAP! CRACK! WHAP! After these three slaps, Sip howled, and grabbed his cock and did a dance around the dorm. "Nice jitterbugging there," Indio said admiringly. "But you must learn to take your punishment with more um, gravitas."

"B-but it hurts so much." Sip said tearfully. "My penis is raw, man." Indio shook his head sympathetically. "Yes, it's not doing well, look at that little trickle of blood by your cockhead. But Sip, this is a valuable lesson for your penis. It's got to stop leading you into weird-ass situations like beating off while I'm in the shower. Your penis will thank us BOTH for this eventually. Now hands behind your back, and jut your dick out once again."

Sip obeyed reluctantly. Indio shook his head. "I just can't trust you not to grab your dick again before I'm done, son. So I'm going to have to bind your hands with this cord from your clock-radio. I'm gonna have to cut off the cord, but for a rich boy like you, new clock-radios are a dime a dozen." After Indio had tied Sip's hands he made Sip stand against the dresser so he wouldn't dance.

"Now, Sip, close your eyes as before." Sip closed his eyes unhappily. Indio put his arm around Sip's shoulder and kissed Sip on the ear, which made Sip's dick go up considerably. "Now I want you to make your Master proud" This was the first time that Indio had referred to himself as "Master".

"Prove to me that you can take this pain...show me what you can do, and I might let you have a treat later." Sip nodded his head quickly, his eyes still closed. Indio lifted the ruler.

WHACK! SNAP! CRACK! The three times that the ruler hit caused Sipple to gasp and he tried to move away from the dresser. But while his hands were tied, Indio had used an extra length of cord to secure him to the dresser, so Sip kept trying to pull away from the dresser. Whenever the cord that was attache to the drawer pulled out, Indio pushed it back in.

"Sip, don't you trust me, baby?" Indio asked as he leaned over and kissed Sip's neck a bit. "I want you to be the man I know you can be. But you need to learn to accept pain. Can you be a good boy and learn to accept pain?"

Sip nodded distractedly. Indio patted Sip's shoulder again, and raised the ruler. This time, Sip kept his eyes open. "That's right, baby." Indio whispered. "This is a beautiful thing...live in it."

WHAP! CRACK! SLAP! RAP! Sip was able to take the punishment to his cock this time with a minimum of moans and jumps, though it was obvious that he was still in full pain. Indio reached down and grabbed Sip's balls and squeezed them sharply, and Sip buckled for a moment, but as Indio released him, he stood up tall and proud.

After it was over, Indio asked Sip what he wanted his treat to be, and Sip unbuckled Indio's pants and began sucking Indio's dick greedily. It was Sip's first time, but Indio reported that the boy didn't do badly.

Soon after this, Sip asked his parents to fund an off-campus apartment...they were so relieved he didn't want to live with his girlfriend that they didn't ask too much about the minority scholarship student that Sip was trying to help out.

And they were pleasantly surprised! Sip gave up smoking pot and excessive drinking, and though Indio was only a freshman, he could dance circles round Sip intellectually, and began tutoring Sip in the subjects he was getting C's and D's in.

"Much of Sip's problems" Indio wrote me, "Are with laziness more than lack of intelligence. So I've told him that I expect good results. Anything less than a B on a minor paper or quiz is going to result in thirty with the coat hanger whip; and on tests and exams and term papers, he'd better pull up or he's going to get seriously hurt!"

Indio Chapter Three

Indio Chapter Four

Indio told me that Sip would need lots of training...and how!

"Aarrgh!" Sip screamed one afternoon as Indio attached yet another mousetrap to Sip's rock hard penis. Sipple was bound naked on the French antique vintage marble-topped table that his mother had sent.

The marble was elegant, but quite cold! Sip was on his back, wrists knotted behind him...but he was grateful he wasn't on his stomach, as not only were there about seven traps on his crotch, but there was one on each nipple as well.

"How my nipples hurt" Sip whined, and Indio smiled grimly.

"You are fortunate you didn't train under my Master Eugene, Sipple. He used to attach a cowbell to my nipple clamps and make me walk around ringing all day!" Thinking of it, Indio looked somewhat annoyed, and he slapped Sip's nipple clamps with a backhand motion

And the pain was excruciating. "Oh, what are you doing to me, Master?" Sip gasped, as tears rolled down his face. "I must like it because my dick is hard,but it's all so painful!"

Indio pinched the side of Sip's dick and placed the fifth mousetrap on Sip's dick. His dick looked now like a deck of wood, all the little wooden traps were aligned along his thick dick.

"Well, what you're feeling is pressure to your shaft, Sip." Indio said soothingly, as he flicked one of the traps with a brown finger. "The penile shaft is a structure of numerous skin layers covering the tissues called the corpora cavernosa. Their arteries fill with blood when you get a hard-on." Indio then idly knocked one of the traps off Sip's dick and he screamed.

"Although the shaft is not very sensitive when flaccid, as it fills with blood during your sexual excitement, Sipple, the pressure makes it extremely sensitive." Indio interrupted his lecture to replace the mousetrap on the underside of Sip's cock--the frenum.

Indio moved Sip's legs apart a bit, and began adding mousetraps to his balls. As he handled Sip's scrotal sack, he talked on. "Your ball bag here contains your testes, or your nuts, two bits of fibrous soft glands, and the nerves in the testicles are quite sensitive, which makes squeezing them fun--" Indio wrenched Sip's scrotum, and Sip howled--"at least for me, eh?"

"I want these off, anything but these!" screamed Sip. "Why on my balls?" Indio sighed.

He reached behind him and brought out a stainless steel cylinder about the size of a can of beans. Indio quickly removed the erring trap. "Now we're going to do an alternative ball trainer, just for you, Sippie." Indio said kindly. "You told me last night that you were excited by your slave training and wanted me to go farther, but now you say you can't take too much. It's a double message. I'm going to have to put the Ball Crusher on you."

As Sip gaped, Indio stuffed his balls into an opening on the top of the canister. Then Indio locked the canister around Sip's balls, and pressed something on the side, and Sip felt the canister contracting around his testicles. Suddenly Sip emitted a girlish shriek! "

"Ah, that' s the sign that we can set your crush level at point four." Indio said approvingly, and he clicked something else, and the gradual contraction stopped, mercifully.

Indio paused, turning from his testicles and looked at Sip's right nipple, and suddenly he slapped off the trap, and Sipple began weeping like a little girl. "Oh you're going to make me lose my lunch." Indio muttered. Indio was concerned because Sip's nip was retreating into itself, but he had a plan.

Indio had "borrowed" a forceps from Georgetown University Hospital, and with this he grasped Sip's shy nipple, somewhat savagely.

Indio took the nasty little forcep and pinched hard on the nipple and Sip howled. "Good God, Sipple, why can't you shut up?" Indio dropped the forcep for a moment and went to the liquor cabinet and came back with a gin soaked washrag. "Now, silence!" As Indio stuffed the rag in Sip's mouth, he spread duct tape over the rag.

Now Sip was a bit more quiet, as the gin trickled down the back of his throat. Indio shook his head as he kept pulling and tweaking the elusive nipple. "Goodness" Indio said. But he knew what to do.

Sip's eyes bulged as he watched Indio head for the bedroom, and come back with a suction pump snakebite kit. Indio attached the suction pump to Sip's shy nipple and ran the pump until finally removing it, and noting with satisfaction that Sip had a nice large nipple now.

Again Indio applied the trap, ignoring Sip's muffled screams.

Finally, Indio was done. He slapped Sip harshly on the shoulder and Sip jumped off the table, suddenly feeling horrible because the thick stainless steel cylindrical Ball Crusher was now swinging between his legs. Sip looked down and couldn't believe it.

His mousetrap covered cock was visible, but his balls were completely contained by the Cylinder! And it was heavy. What could Sip do? His hands were tied behind his back.

"Now then, step into these" Indio said briskly,and Sip found himself wearing pink women's high heeled pumps. He was now standing gracelessly in the middle of the room, with the high heels completely biting into the heels of his feet.

At lunch after Indio's funeral on a cold February day in 1990, Sipple Knox, now 200 pounds overweight and a banker married to a dominant wife told me: "It was unbelievable, what Indio threw on me that day.

There I was with mousetraps on nipples and cock, and that horrible Crusher on my balls, trying to balance myself on the goddam high heels, with my hands behind my back...but was that all?"

Sipple paused and downed a bit of gin and tonic. "No, Indio had had plans for me that day. The night before I'd invited a number of my buddies over, the loud, ignorant rich little assholes who I'd gone to prep school with.

We'd stayed up all night drinking, eating catered food and smoking cigarettes, and watching television, and of course, blaring music. Indio hadn't said a word about it, he'd helped me prepare for the party, and then he'd gone to the library for the evening, not coming back til the house was a mess and my pals were gone.

After Indio had trussed me up the next morning, with all that I'd mentioned, he told me he now wanted me to clean the mess my friends had made. "Will you untie me?" I asked, puzzled.

Indio smiled. "No, I want you to get the dirty dishes and ashtrays with your teeth, shake them over the garbage, and then clean them with your tongue and drop them in the dishwasher. I'll open the dishwasher for you. Now get to work,and if there's a speck in the house when I get back from playing Frisbee with my Combinatorial Optimization study group, you'll get the whipping of your life. And you know I mean that, slaveboy."

And believe you, Hooks, I had a job ahead of me. We had these real expensive Wedgwood plates, and carrying one in my mouth hurt my teeth, because they were so delicate. First thing I drop one and have to end up licking cigarette butts and pieces of anchovy off the floor, and it took me nearly four hours to carry each of the plates to the garbage can and shake them.

And of course then came all the licking of the disgusting pieces of dried gum, butts, joints and dirty food off each of the plates. But I became amazingly limber at dropping the glasses into the dishwasher with my teeth...and I did an adequate job..but Indio gave me a nasty thrashing anyway..."

Even after twenty years. Sipple looked sick when he told me that story. But I could see a nice little bulge in his pants, anyway.

Sipple also told me that Indio had made him carry his balls around in the Crusher for a week, which had been rather distressing in class, where the big cylinder was almost ripping through his chinos.

After Sip complained too much, Indio actually pushed his cock inside the Crusher as well, and forbade him to go to the bathroom all day. Sip told me that at one point he was sitting on the toilet in the public restroom at school crying.

Crying because instead of his comforting genitals, he had this big ugly silver thing between his legs, and he didn't have room enough to pee...Sip had actually rushed home and taken off his clothes and danced around with the horrible Crusher between his legs, like a little boy who couldn't hold it, and had to anyway.

"Swinging between my legs, Hooks, the Crusher kept knocking me down, hitting one leg so I slipped and then I'd get up and dance around again, until by the time Indio got home, I was just lying on the living room floor, crying and holding my genitals. It was pure, unadulated hell."

Finally Sip had had to beg Indio at the end of the day to release him, and Indio had made him write "Pride Goeth Before a Fall" 500 times before Indio released him. And of course he'd not made it to the bathroom, and had peed all over his mother's expensive Oriental rug...my my.

Indio was disappointed at how weakly Sip had reacted to the Crusher, especially when it came to urine retention training. "Your bladder is spoiled, Sip" Indio advised his roommate, once again affixing The Crusher to Sip's cock and balls.

Indio made sure that the Crusher had sufficiently squished Sip's genitalia completely. Indilo could never stop laughing when he watched Sip stand in front of him, naked with a big stainless steel (and he made Sip polish it) cylinder swinging between his legs.

Sip preferred it when Indio just crushed the balls and he had his cock out, because then he could go to the bathroom, and it wasn't quite as painful...but Indio was not one to shirk his duty, and Sipple had what Indio called "lazy bladder syndrome"

Before Indio had locked the Crusher on Sip he'd teased Sip's cock to an almost bursting erection, and then he'd suddenly shut the poor penis inside the Crusher, and locked it up quickly.

"Yes, everything about your groin is spoiled." Indio said complacently. "You jerk off when you want to, you fuck these unfortunate girls and leave them..."

As Inido said "them" he kicked the Crusher and made it swing between Sip's legs, which caused Sip to have both incredible pain to his penis and testes, AND a near loss of balance.

"And then you drink all this beer, this schnapps, this whiskey...and pee all over the place. How many times have I made you lick your urine up from around the toilet because you missed your aim, Sipple?" Indio shook his head and folded his arms.

But then he suddenly kicked The Crusher once more, harder, and Sip fell over. Sip tumbled, the heavy Crusher swung between his legs and then swung up, hitting him on the stomach as Sip lay on his back, gasping.

Indio found this rather amusing. "Look how upset you are, Sipple. And think, my Master Eugene used to put me through so much more than this. Once we stole a catheter from the Boysville infirmary.

Eugene bound me with my wrists tied behind my head, and a piece of surgical tubing gripped in my teeth.

It ran from a keg of beer to the retention catheter in my bladder. I'd try to keep from drinking the beer, but whenever I relaxed my mouth, the beer would go down my throat until I clenched my teeth over it.

And as the beer went down my throat, my bladder began filling with urine, and I couldn't pee, because of the catheter.

Sip, I had to try to keep my teeth clenched over the tube to keep the beer from entering, but then I'd forget, and get more beer, and my bladder became fuller and fuller." Indio laughed as he watched Sip's eyes widen as he finished the story.

"By the day's end, I was dead drunk and my kidneys felt like they were going to explode. And then, Eugene took the tube off the empty keg, did a reattachment on my penis, and I had to pee all the urine down my throat and drink it, which sobered me up admirably."

"And think, Sipple, when Eugene did this to me, I was only fourteen years old, and here you are, a big, strong, twenty-one year old man, and you can't take a little urine retention?" Indio shook his head.

"You're a pathetic creature, Sip. But don't you want me to train you to be a good slaveboy?"

Sipple nodded avidly. "Master Indio, I do benefit tremendously from your training, Sir. It's just that this Crusher business might be a bit too much for me, Sir." Sip got back up and stood there again, the Crusher swinging between his legs. "I just can't get used to the pain!"

Indio shook his head again, sorrowfully. "Sip, I don't think it's gonna work out between us. You just aren't a true masochist...you're not really a submissive, you're more of a dilletante. Maybe we should just be roommates."

Indio watched as Sip dropped to his knees, which of course made the Crusher hit the ground and bounce back up into his crotch. After Sip bit his lip from the horrible sensation, he spoke. "Please, Indio, don't give up on me. This is the best life I've ever had, Sir. I don't want anything else. I'm willing to give up all I have for this."

And it was true, Sip had given up a lot. Although it was a three bedroom apartment they lived in, Sip was forced to spend most of his time at home in only one room...and when Indio didn't need him, and when Sip wasn't studying, he often was regaled to the closet in that room.

Sip spent hours in the closet, waiting for Indio's next command. And he didn't seem to complain that much, even though Indio gave Sip vicious canings and tawsings for the smallest mistakes in housework or academic studies.

Sip felt as if he was finally getting the discipline he needed, that in a world of countless choices, many of the choices were being removed so he would be a bit less confused.

As Indio saw the tears in Sip's eyes, he began to feel somewhat moved. "All right, but you're going to have to train harder, Sip. You must be ready for whatever I give you."

Sip nodded eagerly, and Indio instructed Sip to stand with one foot on a dining room chair. As Sip did this, Indio gently moved his other leg so that his legs were wide, and the Crusher was hanging between his foot on the floor and the foot on the chair.

Indio went into the other room and brought out a cane, a broomstick and a steel Louisville Slugger, and put them on the table, retaining only the cane.

"Now then, Sip. I want you to stand as erect as you can manage, while I put you through some paces." Sip's face was dead white as he nodded. (And I don't blame him. If I'd been Sip and saw that Louisville Slugger, I'd have jumped out the window, naked with the Crusher.)

Indio bent the cane, a nice rattan jobbie, and looked at Sip. "Were you ever caned at school?" Indio asked as he bent and then took practice swings with the cane.

Sip shook his head. "No, Master. I went to a very progressive boarding school,and we were given counseling when we screwed up." Indio chortled.

"Well, we see how well that's done you." Indio lifted the cane and swung it against Sip's nipples, hitting them hard. Sip jumped, and the weight of the Crusher pulled him down on the floor. Sip lay there, holding his nipples and crying.

Indio sighed. "As you were." Sip got up and put his one foot on the chair again. This time, Indio swung the cane against the Crusher, and it wobbled, and then stood still.

"How was that, Sip?" Indio asked kindly. He could tell that Sip wasn't doing all that well.

"It-it was painful, but all right." Sip answered. His balls were in incredible pain, mushed as they were against his cock in the Crusher. The cane had inflamed things a bit, but Sip was determined to be a man about it. Sip breathed easily again. "I'm ready for more, Sir..whenever you are."

Later after Indio's funeral in 1990, Sip told me that this was the beginning of his mental health. "All my life I'd been indulged" Sip told me. "Given whatever I wanted, a pony at six, motor scooters and minibikes by ten or eleven...and I'd get ticketed for riding them madcap in the street, and a cop would take them away, and my parents would buy me new ones.

I insulted servants and teachers, and never paid any kind of price...and yet I was miserable, and had been in therapy since third grade, and was in two drug rehabilitation centers for heroin abuse after my junior year of prep school. But Indio's training changed everything.

All my life I'd just wanted peace of mind, and Indio as my Master gave me that...all I'd ever wanted was to think one thought at a time, and after six months with Indio, my mind stopped racing!

I never needed therapy again, and when Indio broke up with me, he introduced me to Doris, my dominatrix wife, and she's kept me in line since...but I was scared the first couple of days." Sip had grinned at me that time, and I bet it was difficult.

Twenty years before, standing in front of Indio, with the foot on the chair, Sip said again in a shaking voice, "Whatever you need to do to me, Master."

Indio had grinned and had tossed the cane on the table, and picked up the sawed off broom handle. He swung it hard, and it slammed against the Crusher, but Sip stood firm. Indio hit it three more times, and though tears came into Sip's eyes from the excruciating pain, he stood still and took it!

Then came the Louisville Slugger...and Sip fell down nine or ten times before he could stand tall for the swing and the BAAAANG of steel hitting steel. That night when Indio took off the Crusher cylinder, Sip's balls were black and blue, and his penis was covered in blood...but his Master was quite proud of him.

STORY OF INDIO—CHAPTER FIVE

So Sipple began wearing the heavy Crusher all the time for a while. He was allowed to urinate into the toilet in the morning, and then he'd turn to Indio. Indio would give Sip a long, probing tongue kiss, massaging his nipples, and then he'd play with Sip's cock with his skillful fingers until Sip was gasping and begging to cum...Indio then would jam Sip into the Crusher.

After he'd turned the Crusher completely so it squished Sip;s hard cock and balls, Sip would fall to his knees, crying. "Oh Master! I love you Master, but it's almost too much!" This would go on for a bit, which was why Indio always started Sip's procedure early enough so he could get to school on time. Indio did try to be comforting.

"Oh I envy you, Sipple" Indio said once. "I wish they'd had a Crusher when I was Eugene's slaveboy. The best he ever did for me was tease my urethra so my hole was big enough to put a small lit firecracker in it. I do envy you, boy."

The Crusher was good for preventing all sorts of slave "mischief". With it on over his cock and balls, Sip couldn't pee, get an erection, or fuck anyone else. Indio considered the Crusher his best purchase, though he'd charged it to Sip's student account as "library fines."

Sip then had to sit through classes all day and try not to let the Crusher be seen, and he tried to find looser and looser pants. Twice Sip ripped his expensive pants in class when the heavy Crusher bounced too hard, and he had to run home before anyone saw the stainless steel cylinder peeking through the rips in his Chinos.

Finally, Indio gave Sip an old pair of heavy janitor's coveralls. For some peculiar reason he'd taken them after the Boysville maintenance man, Augustus, had died. They were too big for the five foot seven Indio, but Sip was about Augustus's size, so they fitted nicely.

They were big grey things, these coveralls, that covered Sip'e entire body, he had to step into it int he morning and pull it over his shoulders. But it did hold the Crusher in place.

Sip had always been something of a fashion plate, representing the more conservative students as the rest of the kids were busy growing their hair and protesting the Vietnam war.

The coveralls were absolutely hideous, and Sip didn't like wearing them. What was worse, the name "Gus" was stitched on the breast.

Sip's old friends from prep school began calling him "Gus" and what could Sip do? He had to take it smiling, as he was "choosing" to wear these horrible things. And the counterculture kids liked it, and Sip learned true humility, if not humiliation, by bouncing around the Georgetown campus in overalls.

Sip began conversing with the hippie kids, and realized what a hypocrite he was to have a father on the draft board who'd given all his sons and cousins exemptions while sending blue-collar kids into the war.

One day, Daisy, a cute little hippie girl was so thrilled by Sip that she gave him a big, wet, deep kiss, and invited him over to his dorm room. Sip learned the benefits of fidelity, while making out with Daisy on her bed...his erection kept trying to grow in the vicious Crusher and it was so painful that he finally burst into tears and ran out of Daisy's dorm.

After this, even the hippies seemed to give Sip a bit of a berth. But Sip was learning discipline still,and Master Indio was quite proud of him, which was all that mattered.

Sip was able to calculate now just how much he could drink all day so he wouldn't feel as if his kidneys were going to explode. Sip often walked around campus during the day, just wetting his mouth at drinking fountains to keep off thirst.

Sometimes Sip would wet a washcloth and suck on it, promoting his friends to say, wittily "Take a sip, Sip."

In time, Indio felt it was time to go a little further in Sipple's training, and wanted to start being creative. "What the hell are you doing, Indio?" Sip asked one morning as Indio bent over his genitals with a cotton swab."I am swabbing your urethra with a bit of Ben-Gay." replied Indio.

As Sip felt the sensation on his piss hole, he began howling in pain. Indio slapped Sip, hard, and he shut up. "Enough, Sip. I am trying to make you the best slave you can be, and you thwart me at every turn." Indio said in a grieved tone. "Now be silent. I am rubbing a little tabasco sauce on your balls. I think you need more sensation in the Crusher. You seem so used to just being crushed."

Sip's day at school was unbearable,as he kept grabbing his inflamed crotch, then remembering that the Crusher prevented his hands from doing any real comforting to his inflamed, imprisoned cock and balls. Could it get any worse?

The next day was Saturday, and Indio got Sip up early, and bound him to a kitchen chair. Sip watched Indio, as his Master put on a pair of latex gloves. "We are fortunate to live next door to a couple that grows habaneros hot peppers." Indio said, as he cut the pepper open. "They're rather stingy, so that's why I'm wearing these gloves that I borrowed from the Georgetown Medical School."

Sip writhed in his bonds and watched Indio's hands in the latex gloves as Indio ran his fingers inside the hot pepper until he'd gotten the gunk out, and was rubbing it between his fingers. "What's with the corncob?" asked Sip nervously.

"Creativity, my Sipple. Lift up your butt, thank you." Sip screeched as the stinging corncob was shoved into his rectum. There was plenty of room there, as Indio had loosened Sip's rectum with dildoes, cucumbers, and once a rolling pin. After Indio had gotten the corn cob up Sip's ass, he also shoved in a butt-plug, to ensure that the cob wouldn't fall out.

Sip felt as if his asshole was on fire, or perhaps in a nuclear explosion. Yes, it was Hiroshima in his anus, all over again. Then Indio went to the bathroom and brought back two Johnson's Band-aids, and he rubbed peppers on each of the gauze pads, taping each Band-aid over one of Sip's nipples. Sip forgot his anus for a moment as his nipples began to scream in pain.

Indio was not done yet. No, not Indio. His pepper covered gloves rubbed about under each of Sip's arms, in Sip's mouth and behind each of Sip's knees...and then wandered up to Sipple's crotch.

Sipple howled more as Indio ran his pepper stained gloves around Sip's cock, doing the entire shaft and shoving a bit of pepper in the urethra. Sip bit his lip until he nearly bled as Indio massaged Sip's testicles with hot peppers, and suddenly it was worse.

Indio locked the Crusher on Sip as well, fully locking it until Sip's pepper infested penis and testicles were once again squooshed.

Now Sip's entire body was basked in horrific pain. But Indio was nothing if not compassionate. He said kindly. "The good news is, your exams are over and it's Saturday, and I'll turn the TV on while you become accustomed to this new sensation. Would you like to watch Gilligan's Island or My Favorite Martian?"

Within a week, Sip was able to barely tolerate his new regimen of peppers, and then came the hair shirt. What's a hair shirt, you ask? A hair shirt is made out of sewed together horse hair, that is worn next to the skin as a penance, usually by monks of the 15th century.

Somehow, Indio had gotten hold of one, and made Sip wear it under his shirt. This apparently was horrible, as it covered poor Sip with countless itching stings...it seemed as if he'd had the worst haircut of his life, and it was all under his shirt.

This,combined with the excruciating pain in his genitals, seemed to be levelling poor Sip, but he was determined to make it to school anyway. Sip was still wearing the Band-aids soaked in hot peppers on his nipples as well, so he must've just been in a world of hurt.

But as he adjusted to it, Sip found a new and interesting challenge to concentrate in class. Wearing a hair shirt, pepper covered genitals, nipples and anus, and of course the Crusher made it quite a feat to focus on differential equations or the finer points of Beowulf.

"But I'd always had attention deficit problems" Sip told me later after Indio's 1990 funeral. "And it was actually good for me to intensify my focus in the classroom while my crushed cock and balls, and nipples and asshole were stinging to high heaven, and I was itching all over with the damn hairshirt. And now and then Indio would throw in Ben Gay in the Crusher as well.

But it sure cured me of being easily distracted by dropping a pencil or girl-watching. Later, after Indio took the Crusher off and removed my other sensory punishments, my attention was so good from the constant fight against the pain that I was easily able to make straight A's and got into one of the best MBA programs in the nation." After a time, Indio began to feel sorry for Sipple, and removed the peppers and the hair shirt

But the Crusher stayed in his life for quite a while, as Indio was fascinated by the different challenges that Sip's cock and balls could take.

Soon after this, Sip and Indio drove out to his great-aunt's farm in northern New Jersey. After having a hearty breakfast with the old lady, who was impressed with Indio's knowledge of classical music, the boys went out to the barn.

Indio looked thoughfully at the beam running horizontally across the ceiling--a sort of rafter. Sip felt a bit nervous, and he had reason to be, for within twenty minutes, he was naked, except for the Crusher, and hanging from the rafter by a pair of handcuffs.

Standing on a cherry picker, Indio also locked Sip's ankles to two more handcuffs, and attached the ankle cuffs to the wrist cuffs. Now Sip was hanging with only the Crusher swinging from his crotch, as his arms and legs were locked onto the barn rafter.

Sip said later that although the pain in his wrists and ankles was considerable, he was so worried that the beam would break and that he'd fall on the Crusher and castrate himself, that he couldn't worry too much about pain.

Then Indio clapped his hands. "I wonder how much that beam can take" he said thoughtfully. Indio looked around the barn and found an old pail, and took it to an outside pump and filled it with water.

Attaching a bit of clothesline to it, Indio went up on the cherrypicker and attached the bucket of water to Sip's Crusher. Sip now had the triple whammy of a. hanging by his wrists and ankles b.wearing the heavy Crusher, which was squooshing his hot pepper and Ben Gay treated genitals, and c.having a heavier bucket of water hanging from the Crusher.

"It would be to your advantage not to spill the water, Sipple" Indio said softly. "I want to remain in a tranquil mood today."

Indio got down and nodded to himself, and went outside to read "Sense and Sensibility" by Jane Austen. After thirty pages, Indio sketched Grandma Knox's henhouse. After this he took a nap.

For Sip, the next hour and a half was like nothing he'd ever gone through before. He had to pee, and couldn't because of the Crusher, and then he had a huge bucket of heavy water hanging from his genitals, which seemed to intensify the Crusher's effectiveness.

Also, Sip noticed that his skin just above the Crusher, which was holding his cock and balls, was starting to show in a stretchy, alarming way. This was bad, as Sip was quite aware that only old men had really hanging balls. At twenty-one, Sip didn't want to have hanging balls too soon.

Sip's wrists and ankles, up, spider like on the beam felt as if they were being wrenched from the beam. And of course Sip didn't know if the beam would hold. Indio did, as he had studied engineering books as a hobby in high school. Indio just wanted to fuck with Sip by making him wonder.

At some point, amazingly, Sip fell asleep while hanging, and when he'd woken up, he'd spilled part of the water. My God, half the water has been spilled!

Indio came back into the barn, yawning, and climbed the cherry-picker to let Sip down. After Sip had finished rubbing his wrists and ankles to ensure the blood still flowed, he looked at Indio, who was cutting some twigs off a long hickory switch.

"I thought I told you not to spill the water." Indio looked at Sip inquiringly. "I hoped you wouldn't spoil a nice rustic vacation day by disappointing me, but again, Sip, you always do."

Indio broke four switches on Sip's naked butt and thighs before he was done, and Sip became absolutely hysterical in his promises not to let this happen again. Indio tied Sip up on the beam again.

Indio also re-attached the bucket the exact same way, and Sip was able to hold still for three hours while Indio sat outside and finished Jane Austen, and followed up with 50 pages of "Democracy in America" by Alexis D'Toqueville.

The following weekend they came out to the barn again, and this time Indio stripped Sip, but there was a problem--the Crusher had broken. How it happened was a mystery, but possibly they'd been over-using it. So Indio just cuffed Sip's wrists to the rafters and let him hang, and then chained his balls to a bucket again--but this time filled the bucket with pebbles.

This was a new experience in pain for Sip, but he was a brave fellow, and tried again to be brave the following weekend, when Indio attached a cinderblock to the bucket. "I am so glad you are becoming accustomed to your training" Indio said approvingly.

The next weekend, Indio informed Sip that he had been working with some minority youths who were interested in joining the Black Panthers. Indio knew that Sip was a big one for guns, and knew a lot about it, and although Indio was a pacifist politically, he'd agreed to train the young black men using BB pistols.

Sip told Indio he was fully supportive of Indio's efforts, and offered to use the farm to train the young men. Indio told Sip he was glad that Sip had come up with that, and that Sip could help further. Sip was happy to do so, until of course he discovered what Indio's idea was.

STORY OF INDIO, CHAPTER SIX

A few weeks later, it was time to take the young Black Panther trainees up to the farm to teach them marksmanship. Sipple was very enthused about this, as he was an expert shooter, and would have joined ROTC had he not been chickenshit about going to Viet Nam.

Indio, however, was quite circumspect about Sip's involvement in the event, and just quietly gathered the young black men together into a borrowed VW bus and drove them up. When they arrived at the farm, they paid their obligatory call on Sipple's great-aunt, and then headed straight for the barn, which puzzled Sip.

"Why are we going to the barn, Indio?" Sip asked. "I think we should probably set up some cans and plink at them with the BB guns over at the far hill, don't you?"

Indio patted Sip on the arm reassuringly. "You think too much, old man. Just let me take care of things." The young men were very excited, as Indio had brought up several BB guns so they wouldn't have to take turns with one...and an actual shotgun.

Sip was also somewhat concerned because Indio had given the boys each a 40 oz quart bottle of beer, which seemed to make them a bit riotous.

One of the young men, a very black guy with an African accent, smiled and shook his head when he was offered a beer. "I am sorry, no. I only drink water and fruit juices. And no gun for me either. I had enough shooting in Vietnam. I am just here to observe DeRoy, who is my brother-in-law."

DeRoy was a young American black man, and he slapped the African on the back. "You got to get into this Kiasi, my man...this is cool!"

Indio looked at Kiasi, the black man, casually. Kiasi was quite muscular, and he had an intensity in his eyes. He winked at Indio, and Indio had the feeling that Kiasi could tell what Indio would look like naked.

When they got out to the barn, the guys were excited and were playing with the air rifles.

"Fellows, hold on" Indio said seriously.

"I wan tyou to learn what it's like to shoot at a moving target. There's not much use in shooting something that is just standing there, so I want you to have a nice wiggling form to shoot at, a true moving target." Indio turned to Sip. "Sipple, take off your clothes, please."

Sip smiled nervously. "Excuse me, Indio?" Indio did not repeat his request, he just looked at Sip implacably. Sip blanched. "In-Indio, we have a private relationship." Indio gave Sip another more intense look, and Kiasi, the African looked up at the ceiling and began whistling.

DeRoy laughed cruelly. "Go on, white boy. indy tole us you is a faggy!" The others snorted, and one threw a beer bottle at Sip. It crashed near his feet, and Sip looked quite depressed.

Finally, Sip removed his clothes, a bit slower than Indio would have liked. He stood in front of Indio and the young black men, looking utterly miserable. But again, Sip's cock was rock hard.

Indio turned to a smaller negro and said, "Vitellius, you're the artist, right, you've been busted for your ridiculous graffiti and for trying to carve fifty-cent pieces out of wood. Get over there with your paints and paint a black and white dart target on Sip's chest."

Sipple stood obediently as Vitellius did his good work. Indio then had Sip climb the cherry picker, and ended up cuffing Sip's hands once again to the rafters, so that Sip's naked body hung down. Indio also put a fencing mask on Sip's head to ensure his face would be protected.

There was small comfort in the fact that Sip no longer had to wear the Crusher and that his legs could swing, but that was scant, as of course Sip was now going to be shot at...

"Now fellows, take your air rifles, and Vitellius, because you did such a good job with the target, you can shoot this rifle with rock-salt--"

"ROCK SALT?" screamed Sip.

Indio took the rock-salt rifle and shot Sip in the testicles twice and Sip screamed bloody murder. It didn't matter of course, because Sip's great-aunt had taken out her hearing aid and was taking her nap now.

As the boys moved in with the rifles, Indio closed the barn door, in case there were any misunderstandings.

The boys honestly did aim for the target on Sip's chest, but most of the BB's (and the rock salt) landed on his cock, balls, thighs and general groin area.

As Sip tried to move about while suspended from the beam, the boys also got shots on his buttocks, calves and feet. Altogether, it was an unpleasant hour and half.

After Indio wearied of Sip's screams, he went outside and leaned against a tree and began reading "Letters and Social Aims" by Ralph Waldo Emerson. In a moment he heard the African's voice. "That is a good book, but not as good as Emerson's 'Self Reliance.' you know."

Indio looked up at Kiasi, DeRoy's African brother in law. "I thought with your Vietnam experience you might be giving the boys some pointers." As Indio stared at Kiasi, he felt his lips growing dry, and a bulge seemed to be growing slightly in his pants. "A-are you training to be a Black Panther?" Indio asked curiously.

"No, I got in enough shooting as I said earlier at the battle of Ke Sanh last January, and since I've been back from Vietnam I have little interest in that sort of thing. I actually have interests in the Black Muslim movement, and have changed my name to Kiasi X."

Kiasi smiled and flexed his chest in a snug gray t-shirt. "DeRoy seduced and married my innocent sister Mablevi right after my family emigrated here from Maputo. Another of the young idiots in the barn is engaged to my baby sister Waseme."

Kiasi shook his head ruefully. "They are not bad men, but easily led, and so I am concerned for them, and thus came along on this idiotic farm mission."

About an hour later, after Indio and Kiasi had talked for a long time, Indio asked Kiasi about his sexuality. "Are you gay or straight--I feel as if--" For the first time since Indio was young he had a loss for words, and he didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of this ebony prince.

Kiasi smiled gently. "What would you like from me, Indio? I am at your disposal." As if in a dream, Indio crawled on his hands and knees to Kiasi's crotch, and unzipped his tight jeans, pulling out Kiasi's long, thick penis.

Indio plunged Kiasi's penis in his mouth and began sucking greedily. Indio had not sucked a cock since Eugene had left Boysville; his own cock had been sucked quite a bit by Sip and various bar pickups, and even a few cute girls had petitioned for the right...but Indio himself had wanted to lick a masterful cock, and he wondered if Kiasi was such a Master.

Suddenly, Indio felt Kiasi grabbing him by the ears and slamming the cock down Indio's throat so that Indio was coughing and gasping. Suddenly Kiasi cuffed Indio on the ear. "Stop this moaning and such, Indio...Suck me or begone. I am not an idiot like that creature you have hanging in the barn."

Indio slurped his tongue around Kiasi's penis and pulled on it, toying with Kiasi's frenulum, and suddenly Kiasi came like a firehose, and Indio sucked every bit down, before cleaning Kiasi carefully with his handkerchief.

Sip's screams had stopped in the barn, and Indio rose. Kiasi made no attempt to hug Indio or thank him for the blowjob. "I-I brought along a bottle of vodka to throw over Sip to disinfect him." Indio said unsteadily. "Then I suppose we should go home."

Kiasi said casually, "I suppose we should."

When Sip and Indio got back to their apartment building, Indio's mind was in a whirl. He kept imagining Kiasi. Kiasi's naked, ebony muscles. Kiasi whipping Indio. Licking grime off Kiasi's toes. Serving Kiasi on his knees.

But when Sip and Indio got up to the apartment, they had a surprise, which banished thoughts of Kiasi from Indio's mind. An overweight fifty year old man in Bermuda shorts and a skipper's cap was sipping gin in their living room.

"Dad!" Sip said joyfully. The obese yachtsman smiled genially at Sip. "How are you, boy?"

"Indio, this is my Dad, Sipple Knox the Third. Most Third guys are called Trey, but everyone calls Dad Bub." Sip was babbling, probably because he wasn't sure how Indio and Bub would react to each other.

Indio's manners were polished, though he wasn't too crazy about unannounced visitors.

"Mr. Knox, it's good to meet you. You've done a great job of raising Sipple." This perhaps was the greatest lie Indio had ever told.

"No, call me Bub, boy, or Uncle Bub if you like. Your name is Indio? Is that Eye-talian? You look like an Ay-rab, though. What's your surname?"

"I am only Indio." Indio said simply. "That was the name on my bracelet when I was left at the orphanage. When I must use an initial, I call myself 'I. Indio.', but really, Indio is my only name."

Bub spat. "Good God, and that's the sort of bounder that gets a full scholarship at my old university? But Sip did tell me that you had rather high SAT scores. I expect I should be more liberal."

Indio smiled. "Well, you are subsidizing me as well, Mr. Knox. You know that I am living with Sipple for nothing--he charges me no rent. Or is that his mother's money?"

Sip blanched as he saw his father's face growing somewhat purple. Indio provided a necessary distraction, though. "Sip, why are you still dressed? You know you're to be naked at all times in the apartment."

"I can't believe what I thought I just heard the nigra say." said Bub. "I think my hearing is still off from the fox hunt in Martha's Vineyard."

Sipple looked beggingly at Indio. Not in front of my Dad...but Indio stared back, flinty eyed. "Or maybe I should move back to my dorm room and let you and Daddy get re-acquainted."

"That's one helluva good idea, boy." Bub said meditatively, as he slugged down the rest of his gin and opened a pack of Chesterfields. "This ain't no wog joint."

Sipple, overcome with the choice of humiliating himself in front of his father or losing Indio, took the sensible approach, and undressed.

He folded his clothes quietly, and knelt in front of Indio with his head down.

The humiliation of being forced to strip naked in front of his judgmental, racist father seemed to have a reviving affect on Sip's BB shot addled dick, though, and he got quite hard.

Bub dropped his cigarette as he stared at his naked son. "Littering!" called out Indio, who snapped his fingers and pointed at the butt.

Sip crawled over and picked the lit cigarette up in his mouth, and crunched and swallowed it, not un painfully.

"What's wrong with you, boy?" screamed Bub. "Have you lost your mind?" Bub got up and walked over and tried to grab Sip's shoulder, but Indio was right there, with his arm on Bub's wrist.

"Get out of here, wog--"shouted Bub, and grabbed Indio by the shoulder, but in an instant, found himself flipped and on the floor.

He got up, dazed and flung himself at the slender half-breed, and this time received a kick in the balls and a chop in the neck for his trouble, and fell to the ground again.

"Bub, you just don't understand," Indio said calmly."I have provided the necessary raising that you and your series of ex-wives neglected with Sipple. He has been drug free for six months, and only drinks a beer a week now...and he's made the Dean's List."

"Look here--" Bub said, trying to rise, but Indio absently flexed a muscle, and the drunken playboy lay still.

The rules here are different now." Indio smiled at his adoring Sip. "He has discipline and toughness. I can't fault you for not providing that, as you have none of your own."

"Hey there!" Bub said severely. "I'm tough! I was in the Big War, goddamit! I would have been at Guadacanal, if I'd not been locked up in the stockade for hitting a lieutenant."

Indio snorted. "You're nothing, Bub. This boy can take punishment like you've never seen. He's no longer a spoiled, indulged dope fiend. I understand you bought his way out of being drafted last year when Sip failed his courses...but he could fight quite effectively now, if he wanted to."

Bub got up. "I'm as tough as he is! Tougher! Whatever training you've put that boy through...I could do worse!"

Indio looked at Sip and grinned. "Sipple, get dressed and go have your weekly beer or two...see your friends. Your dad and I have something to prove."

Later, at Indio's 1990 funeral, Sipple told me how astonished he was upon his return. "I can't tell you how much I've always admired my father for his independence, yet hated him for being so goddamned self centered. But he was always a cocksman and there was nothing gay about him, as far as I know.

But when I got in the house, my father was kneeling on the floor, his hands bound behind his back,stark naked. His balls were in a ball stretcher, which pulled them out something considerable, and he was sucking and licking Indio's long, brown dick with the enthusiasm of a child with a Popsicle.

I said 'Hey Indio, hey Dad.' and my father looked at me and lowered his eyes and said 'I can't talk to you right now, boy...I'm serving my Master Indio!' And after that, Dad and I really bonded as naked slaves...kneeling in the corner together, being tortured together...it was actually the happiest times of our lives, because we had real conversations.

But, it didn't last that long. Dad went back to Martha's Vineyard, and a few months after that Indio left me for that guy Kiasi. But my discipline was instilled, and I was able to get through school with good grades, and within two years I met Peggy, who is my dominant wife now..she understands my needs, thank God."

Yes, but Sipple had had a good experience with my brother Indio, and I was happy to discuss it with him at the funeral. Knowing that Sip's life had been improved by Indio made me feel damn good. Leaving there, I ended up driving back to where I lived with Kiasi, who was not Indio's lover when Indio died, but had stayed good friends with him.

Kiasi's telling of what happened next was incredibly revealing, for Indio had to train Kiasi to be Indio's Master!

I am shocked sometimes, thinking of how Indio left a pretty good situation living in the best part of Washington, DC, with a handsome young man serving him hand and foot, to go to Kiasi, who had nothing but a lousy schoolteaching job and who lived with his family. Indio had to move back in the dorm, but as Kiasi tells about what happened, Indio never felt he made a mistake...because he wanted a true Master!

Indio Chapter Seven

I got the story from both Kiasi and Indio of Indio's "training" Kiasi to become a Master. It was peculiar in the extreme.

The first thing Indio did, was he began getting together with Kiasi often, and servicing the African with his mouth. They couldn't do it at Kiasi's very religious mother's house, and Indio quickly had moved back to the dorm when he realized his feelings for Sip were more friendly than anything else.

So Indio blew Kiasi in his car, in alleys, behind dumpsters, in hallways,and wherever else they could get a bit of privacy.

Now and again, Indio would sneak Kiasi into his dorm room when his roommate was away, and he would feast his tongue on Kiasi's muscles--his chest and arms, the powerful legs, and the feet. Kiasi was a beautiful man, and Indio couldn't believe his luck.

But his fantasies included being punished and controlled by a Master!

Kiasi told me that Indio was hesitant about discussing it with him at first--perhaps Kiasi would be repelled, and that would just break Indio's heart.

"One day Indio and I were picnicking in Rock Creek Park, a large wooded area in Washington, D.C. and he finally broached the topic." said Kiasi later on.

" He gave me a serious look over his sandwich ' Kiasi you know that I'm involved in S&M, right?' We did not call it BDSM in 1968, or actually much of anything else, but I understood.

'Yes, Indio, I saw how you treated that unfortunate preppie boy at his grandmother's farm' I answered with a smile.

'You certainly were ruthless, and now you've broken off with poor Sipple, and he must be very distressed. It would seem that Sipple is more upset by being dumped than being shot with rock-salt.'

And then Indio looked very intensely at me. 'I am very into the scene, Kiasi, and it usually permeates my sexual relationships. I wanted to talk to you about your participating.'

And I laughed, Hooks." Kiasi said at the time. "I had grown up in war-torn East Africa, with changing governments and anarchy. I was mystified as to why Americans hate themselves so much with their easy life that they'd need to torture each other.

And of course I was not going to let anyone torture me.

So I told Indio this... 'I am not going to let you...' But Indio stopped me in mid sentence.

"No, I want YOU to dominate me." Indio said, looking rather shy. It was so endearing, since the little bastard was usually so sure of himself, and I, tough Black Muslim ex Vet that I was, melt easily in front of cute, shy Asiatic boys.

'You're joking' I said to Indio. American Civil Rights had not gone to the point at that time where black men were asked to be slaveOWNERS.

Indio then said 'Kiasi, I fantasize about you being my Master. I want you to take off my clothes and beat me with thick sticks, straps, and whips.

I need discipline and I need a firm hand, and I've not had one since my own Master, Eugene, left the boy's farm in which I was raised.'

Indio looked at me quite seriously. 'And I spend all my time masturbating and thinking of you, Kiasi...fantasizing. It's too much.' And so I really had no choice but to take over controlling this beautiful boy, Hooks" Kiasi said.

Apparently, after this, Kiasi gave Indio the fish eye, and then said "I am completely offended that you would masturbate and think of me without requesting my permission, which I probably would have denied." At this point, Indio had hung his head.

Then Kiasi ordered Indio to take off his clothes, and he'd taken off his belt, and swung it against Indio's butt four or five times lightly. "Master Kiasi, I can take it much harder than that." Indio said then, and Kiasi had grinned and slapped Indio for his impertinence.

Kiasi threw Indio over his massive shoulder and took him deep into the woods of Rock Creek Park, and used his belt to bind Indio's wrists and Indio's own belt to bind Indio's ankles.

"You are a cocky little wog aren't you?" Kiasi said, grinning. He broke off a branch from a tree and began trimming the smaller pieces off as he watched Indio lying on the ground. "A cocky, bossy so-called submissive."

"Yes, Master." Indio said, and he looked so sad, but Kiasi noticed that though Indio was lying on his stomach, his penis was practically pushing him up in the air.

Kiasi swung the branch two or three times in the air. "Yes, you are nothiing but a dilletante, bossing that poor idiot Sipple about, and now you want to be in control of me--forcing me to behave in a certain way in our relationship." Kiasi slapped a tree with a deafening whack and laughed.

"But, my dear Indio, I think perhaps you have bitten off more than you can chew."

Kiasi pulled Indio up by his hair as Indio struggled to reduce the pain by grabbing the ground. But he couldn't grab the ground, because his hands and legs were bound by the belt.

The searing pain from his scalp was quite distracting, and Indio did wonder if maybe Kiasi was insane. Kiasi dragged Indio to a stump and tossed him across it, much as Eugene had done at Boysville some seven years previously.

Kiasi slashed Indio's butt with the branch, and Indio tried to keep silent. He had been trained by Eugene to keep his voice quiet when being punished,but it seemed that Kiasi knew where his most sensitive parts were.

WHACK! WHACK! The next two lashes of the branch landed on Indio's lower thighs, one cutting a little weal just under his buttocks, where the especially sensitive skin was. WHACK! Again, the branch fell there, and Indio yelped involuntarily.

"Aha!" Kiasi said. "I just burst one of your pimples, Indio. That must have hurt." Kiasi took his shirt off, and, swinging the branch about, walked around to the front of the stump where Indio could feast his eyes on Kiasi's massive pectoral muscles.

"I like girls, you know, Indio. More than boys. I date a fellow schoolteacher, and her body is beautiful. All you are, is a moving mouth for my prick...and something to kick around."

This hit Indio even harder than Kiasi's swats. Indio gasped and bit his lip, trying not to cry. Suddenly, Kiasi kicked Indio lightly on the chin. "What? You think I would fall in love with a little Indian fag?" Kiasi laughed loudly.

He walked behind Indio and began swinging the branch. WHACK! WHACK! SLASH! SMACK! The branch hit Indio's buttocks, his back, his thighs.

"Can I make you dance, Indio?" screamed Kiasi. He began hitting Indio harder and faster, and Indio tried to pull away from the stump, crippled by the belts.

Kiasi laughed. "What gymnastics, Indio! You certainly are moving, like a rapid copperhead snake!"

Kiasi finally turned Indio over, so his welted, wealed buttocks were now being infected by twigs and annoying little bugs, and Kiasi bent down, looking at Indio's penis. Kiasi stroked it a bit, and it instantly stiffened.

"You are regretting that you turned yourself over to me now, eh, Indio?" Kiasi asked, but he hoped Indio would say no.

"No, Master. This is just what I need. I just should have been bound a bit tighter." Indio looked straight at Kiasi. "You are my complete and total Master and I will do anything for you, Sir."

Kiasi smiled. "But you are erect without my permission, Indio. This is reprehensible. I insist you go limp immediately." As Kiasi said this, he continued to stroke Indio's cock, and of course it got harder and harder, as Kiasi was quite easy on the eyes, especially without a shirt.

"I-I'm sorry, Master." gasped Indio. "I am having trouble going limp. Perhaps if you stopped touching me?" Kiasi's smile left his face and his eyes narrowed.

"How dare you tell me what I am to do?" Kiasi asked, his brows thunderous. "I am going to teach you to make your penis limp as soon as I insist, do you understand?"

Indio nodded in terror, but his penis didn't go limp, of course.

Kiasi got up, and took the branch, and whittled it down a bit more so it was very long and thin. "Now, you have one more chance to go limp. Become flaccid immediately." Kiasi took a look at the disobedient erection, and shook his head gravely.

"All right, this is what you asked for." SNAP! SNAP! THWACK!

Indio's penis had never taken such punishmment. Kiasi seemed retributive to no end.

But as Kiasi raised the branch again, Indio's terror was overcome with desire.

Half an hour later, the Lady Septuganerian Butterfly Club was startled by the sight of a young welt covered Indian boy sucking the cock of a large black man, and the L.S.B.C.dropped their nets and ran!

Within a few weeks, Kiasi and Indio were very tight, and Indio's allegiances were definitely pointed to his new ebony Master. And of course, Kiasi wanted the best for Indio--Kiasi had come to the US as a poor teenager, and he'd had to wash dishes to work his way through a minor state college in Frostburg, Maryland.

So Kiasi wanted Indio to do well at Georgetown, which was one of the best schools in the country. Kiasi noted that although Indio had been an A student in his first semester at Georgetown, he'd gotten so bogged down with domming Sipple, that his grades had dropped to B's and C's.And as a result of this, Kiasi didn't think they should get together more than on weekends.

This drove Indio crazy, especially since he knew that Kiasi was dating at least two different women during the week. "I can't stand it, Kiasi." Indio complained. "You want me to study nights, but you're out with these women. And I'm so horny, I'm masturbating all the time."

Kiasi was annoyed at this. "You shouldn't be masturbating. Haven't I told you this before? You should think of me, and perhaps stroke yourself a few times, but that's it. I want you to be erect and enthusiastic when we see each other on Saturdays."

But it was nearly impossible for Indio to keep from touching himself and thinking about his African master. Indio did try.

The first weekend they got together, Indio had kept his hands to himself by constant cold showers, and Kiasi was quite pleased with him, though of course he put Indio through an unusually gruelling set of punishments, including quizzing him for a physics exam.

For every ten questions Indio got right, he could suck one of Kiasi's toes, and for every question Indio got wrong, he got ten whacks with a shillelagh that Kiasi had purchased while doing a semester abroad in Scotland.

The second weekend, Indio showed up looking abashed, because he had masturbated. "But you didn't let me cum at all last weekend"

Indio protested, as Kiasi took him over his knee and gave him a severe whipping. (sob) Master, I sucked you off five times in two days and you didn't let me cum, and the cum built up." Indio whined after his whipping was over.

But Kiasi had never promised Indio he would let him cum, just that Indio couldn't cum on his own. As Kiasi said, while swinging the Irish walking stick. "Master makes no deals!"

The whipping was so severe that Indio did not masturbate for two weekends, and was not allowed to cum, but the memory of the cruel Scottish stick resonated with him.

It was incredibly difficult for Indio, as whenever he called Kiasi during the week, he heard feminine laughter, and knew that Kiasi was getting his rocks off whenever he liked. This just made Indio absolutely apeshit!

But for some time, Indio was able to keep from orgasming, though quite often he would jerk off alone in his dorm room, thinking of the African, and put ice on his balls just when it was time to orgasm. This helped a bit.

Then, in June of 1969, Indio and Kiasi were visiting a friend in New York, and having some beers at the Stonewall Inn, when the police came in to raid the bar, and for once, the gays fought back, and drove the police off, Indio and Kiasi fighting the hardest.

To celebrate that night, Kiasi allowed Indio to masturbate in the back alley behind the Stonewall, and it was a great moment in gay history!

Indio was hoping to take the summer off between his freshman and sophomore year, but Kiasi insisted that he continue to take as many classes as he could, as he was on scholarship.

The summer was a difficult one for Indio, as there were many temptations to masturbate--lots of young men in brief outfits on the Georgetown campus, and in the streets. Indio showed up for another weekend having masturbated, and Kiasi tied Indio up on the roof of his building and lashed him with a radio antenna.

Then for three weekends, Indio didn't masturbate, and was not allowed to cum..but then...

One Saturday they got together at Kiasi's house, when the family was away, Kiasi noticed Indio's penis looked rather spent. "Have you been unfaithful to me?" Kiasi demanded.

Indio shook his head. "Of course not, Kiasi. I think of you only."

Kiasi's brow became thunderous. "Then you've been masturbating, haven't you?"

What could Indio say? It was true. Kiasi ordered Indio to strip and kneel on his mother's kitchen floor. Indio did so, and watched Kiasi as the African leisurely went about making himself sausage and eggs, occasionally tossing Indio a bit on the floor, which the half-breed ate up like a dog.

"Stay there like the disobedient dog you are." Kiasi said, as he cooked the sausage. "One of the things I enjoy most about being a non-observant Black Muslim has not been liquor, but pork...it's good stuff."

Kiasi finally took the saucepan, after putting some sausages on his plate, and bent the pan over Indio's hardening cock.

Suddenly, Kiasi spilled just a drop of the hot Wesson oil from the saucepan, and it dropped down and hit Indio's foreskin, and Indio rolled on the floor and grabbed his penis and screamed.

Then Kiasi kicked Indio in the stomach, and ignored him after this, taking his sausage and eggs into the dining room to enjoy his breakfast. Finally Kiasi came back to the kitchen.

"Get up, you feckless little wog." Kiasi ordered. "Go to my bedroom." Indio rose and went to Kiasi's bedroom, and the African tied Indio on his back spreadeagled to the bedposts.

Then Kiasi sat down and began playing with Indio's cock quite tenderly. Indio was amazed at how expertly the otherwise heterosexual Kiasi handled Indio's penis. Tickling the underside of the frenulum, and then pulling at the shaft gently, Kiasi made Indio quite rock hard.

"Now then...I want you to learn to be a good boy and keep your penis obedient to me!" Kiasi roared. Suddenly, Indio saw the sausage spatula, still covered in hot grease. Kiasi spanked Indio's penis four or five times with it, and Indio almost blacked out.

When Indio dared to open his eyes again, Kiasi was smiling at him. "Your disobedient cock is still quite excited." Kiasi said, grinning. "You must be quite the masochist."

Indio nodded ruefully. He watched Kiasi as the black man went to the bureau and brought back a switchblade razor. Kiasi began gently rubbing it up and down Indio's hard shaft.

"You are my slave are you not, Indio?" Kiasi asked, as the blade softly ran up a particularly bulging vein in Indio's cock.

"Yesss..." breathed Indio. He was terrified. What if Kiasi messed up and cut Indio's vein, and Indio died, right there? What if Kiasi was actually some sort of serial murderer? These things happened.

"You don't behave particularly well, and it almost seems as if you are more a slave to your penis than you are to me. This makes me very jealous, Indio."

Kiasi took the blade off Indio's penis and gently lifted up Indio's testicles with one hand while massaging them with the razor, almost as if he was considering if castration was a solution to the disloyalty problem.

"Master Kiasi" Indio gasped. "I am loyal to you...I have just a bit of trouble not touching myself, Sir. Please, oh please give me a chance to redeem myself in your eyes. And do put that razor down."

"Why, Indio?" Astonishment appeared in Kiasi's mocking eyes. "Do you think I am going to cut your nuts off, boy? Do you think that is the solution I am considering? I am surprised at you."

Kiasi laughed, and tossed the razor down, but then he drove his fist brutally into Indio's scrotum, and the young half-breed screamed. "But we are going to find a way, to cure you of this masturbation nonsense." Kiasi said severely.

And Indio agreed, in his pain. There had to be a plan!

Kiasi thought a long time about how to keep his slaveboy chaste

Kiasi thought a long time about how to keep his slaveboy chaste. "I know chastity training is difficult for you, Indio, and it is even harder for you not to see me for long periods of time." Kiasi said

"What mystifies me about you, Indio is...my girlfriend Anya doesn't masturbate when she is not with me, and she doesn't seek out other partners."

Kiasi really wondered about this, and although Indio kept trying to explain that men were different, and had greater needs, the African didn't think much of this excuse.

Indio made a suggestion. "Why don't you tie my genitals up with duct tape, Master?" Indio asked. "You can leave just enough room for me to stick my penis out to urinate.

Then on Wednesday, when your family has prayer-meeting at the church, I can come by just long enough for you to take off the tape and let me take a shower, and then you can bind me up again."

Indio looked guilty. "Of course that will make you break your rule about not seeing me during the week, but perhaps I could just come by briefly."

Kiasi gave Indio a severe tawsing for being so forward with his advice, but it seemed very sensible.

Kiasi purchased silver duct tape from the hardware store, and that Sunday he taped up Indio's cock and balls. Kiasi first stroked Indio until our slaveboy was bursting with desire, and then slowly tapered the tape over Indio's rampant erection. "There, there is no way you can feel sensation and that will keep you from touching yourself."

Then Kiasi wrapped Indio's entire scrotum with more of the tape, so Indio looked like a diamond was stuck between his legs. "Now then, my little elf, if I see any evidence of that tape being disturbed, you will have hell to pay."

Wednesday evening came, and Indio dropped into Kiasi's house. "It's been horribly uncomfortable, that damn tape." the half-breed complained. "But I did it, and I didn't touch myself, though I fantasized quite a bit about you."

Kiasi smiled. "Well you're going to get a break now. Take off your clothes." Indio stripped naked and stood before the African, who reached down and viciously ripped the tape with several quick pulls. RIIIIIIIP!!!!!

Much of Indio's black pubic hair came off with the silver tape, and he cried a bit. Kiasi was revolted. "I can't believe you tortured that boy Sipple the way you did, and now you are behaving like a little child because you lost a few pubic hairs!" Kiasi roared.

Kiasi picked Indio up by his shoulder and threw him across the bed, and took his mother's wicker carpet beater up. "This is Mother's favorite tool to beat the carpets, and is called a mattenklopper by the Dutch."

The Carpet beater was shaped like a paddle, but a little shorter. Indio tried to gear up for it, but the wicker was harsh on his bum.

Kiasi swung hard. WHAP! WHAP! SNAP! As the carpet beater left several round red marks on Indio's ass, Indio began sobbing. He tried hard not to, but Kiasi had a mighty arm, that made Eugene's whippings seem like child's play.

Suddenly, Indio did what he'd never done before--he begged for mercy. "Oh, Kiasi, please don't whip me any more...oh, it hurts so badly!" Kiasi stopped in mid swing.

"Your safeword is 'kitten' but you didn't use it. Are you going to use your safeword?"

Indio tossed his head proudly, while still clutching to the bed. "No, I won't use my safeword, but this is horribly painful!"

Kiasi snorted. "Indeed. I had a beer with Sipple last night and he told me of the Crusher, and the horrible things you put him through even before I met you. I am going to make you realize that being a Master is a tremendous responsibility!"

The carpet beater came down hard again and again. "I am not hitting you with a straightened coat hanger." lectured Kiasi, "As you did Sip, and this is just minor wicker. Sip still has scars from some of your more vicious beatings.

Indio hung his head as his back, shoulders, buttocks and lower thighs continued to take the horrible lashing of the carpet beater.

"And I am so tired of your whining and complaints, they make me ill!" Kiasi said savagely. "After the way you treated poor Sipple, and now you are like a little girl!"

Kiasi brought the carpet beater down with deadly accuracy across the crack of Indio's buttocks, and Indio had to bite into the bedspread to keep from screaming. There would be wicker splinters to pick out of his butt for weeks, he thought.

"Roll over, you little freak."Kiasi ordered, and Indio rolled over, and sure enough, his penis was hard. THWACK! The beater landed right on Indio's bulbous glans and the half-breed slave burst into violent tears.

However, he did try to keep his hands behind his back while the frontal attack continued. Kiasi landed the carpet beater across each of Indio's nipples, under his arms and around his inner thighs.

"I am not the sadist you are, Indio" Kiasi said, with his teeth gritted, as the carpet sweeper went on. " I cannot imagine rubbing jalapeno peppers all over a slave's body. Poor Sip! You are quite irresponsible, and now you want control over your orgasms? Ridiculous!"

Kiasi swung the carpet beater at Indio's balls and landed it hard on the left testicle, and Indio threw up slightly, on his chest. "Oh, you make me ill" Kiasi muttered.

Finally, Kiasi sighed, and threw the carpet beater down. "It sems to have the same effect on you as it did myself when Mother beat me with it when I was six." Kiasi smiled grimly. "By the time I was ten I was taller than she, and it was hopeless...but for those first few years..."

"Go shower your genitals, Indio" Kiasi said, and Indio went in and washed himself off, being careful not to touch his dick too much, as Kiasi was looking in to make sure there was no unauthorized masturbation.

Watching Indio soaping his beautiful lithe body made Kiasi horny, so Kiasi stripped and got into the shower himself and began soaping himself and Indio.

Indio got on his knees and took Kiasi's big, thick black penis in his mouth and began licking and sucking the swelling glans, and then took more of Kiasi's penis in his mouth.

As Indio labored over Kiasi's cock, Kiasi scrubbed his own wooly head and thought about his girlfriend and fucking her, though he wouldn't have hurt Indio's feelings by telling him this.

Finally, Kiasi exploded in Indio's mouth, and then reached down and pulled Indio up, so the shower was running over Indio's hair and face.

As the water streamed over them, Kiasi rubbed his hand up and down Indio's long denied cock, and Indio stared at Kiasi's beautiful body, and eventually began kissing Kiasi's chest. Kiasi kept rubbing Indio's cock faster and faster, and Indio gasped with desire.

"You deserve a reward, eh, boy?"Kiasi said in Indio's ear. "It has been six weeks since your last orgasm...you were obedient and left the tape on, and now you've given me a wonderful fellatio experience. So I should let you cum as a reward!"

Indio fatuously nodded his soggy head. "Yes, please, Master Kiasi." Kiasi smiled and rubbed Indio's dick faster and faster, and Indio began feeling as if he were about to cum...fast Indio's legs trembled and his tongue went across his lips, and Kiasi's long fingers seemed to be pushing Indio towards climax.

Suddenly Kiasi let go of Indio's cock, and slapped his slaveboy hard across the chops. "How dare you expect a reward from your Master!" Kiasi said, irritated. "Get out of the tub!"

Indio hopped out, his jaw red from Kiasi's heavy palm. He reached for a towel, but Kiasi knocked Indio's hand away. Kiasi dried himself with a heavy towel while Indio stood there, shivering. "You want to be warmed up, eh, Indio?" Kiasi asked kindly.

"Y-yes, Master!" Indio said as he shivered. "Very good" Kiasi responded, dragging Indio out of the bathroom, picking up the wicker carpet sweeper in the bedroom.

WHACK! WHACK! THWACK! SPANK! SNAP! The carpet beater hit every pore of Indio's skin and as the half-breed howled, Kiasi grinned and continued to slam the beater up and down and across Indio's body, and yes, within a few moments, Indio was completely dry.

At this point, Indio was in tears, and the second carpet beater whipping had really done him in. But Kiasi was impatient with the whining, and so Indio calmed down, and then Kiasi ordered Indio to make him some lunch.

After lunch, Kiasi ordered Indio to give him a second blowjob, and he came rather hard in Indio's lips.

Indio looked as if he wanted to spit the cum out, but Kiasi held up Indio's head so he had no choice but to swallow. "What a good boy you are, Indio." Kiasi said in a friendly voice as he let go of Indio's neck. "My girlfriend does not like giving blowjobs, so I don't ask her."

"Now we are going to have an exercise in self-control." Kiasi said kindly. "Get on your knees and begin masturbating, Indio." Indio began rubbing his long denied dick while Kiasi dressed. It had been quite some time since Indio had cum, and his cock and balls were in a bit of pain, but Indio kept going at it.

It felt so good to have his penis have a bit of stimulation. Indio had been lusting after the young men at school, and it had been so difficult to keep from touching himself. Now Indio was beginning to gasp and he was quite excited, but he knew he had better tell Kiasi before he was to cum!

Soon, he was approaching orgasm. "I am about to cum, Master." Indio said. Kiasi clapped his hands. "Take your hands off your penis now, Indio." Indio sighed and took his hand off, and his penis stuck up between his legs like an impudent dachsund.

Kiasi grinned, and squirted Indio's pecker with some lube, and ordered Indio to begin jerking himself off again. Indio jerked like mad, faster and faster. Kiasi was so amused he did a sexy dance in front of Indio while the poor boy jerked his cock.

Suddenly, Kiasi noted that Indio was coming close to cumming, so to speak. "STOP!" Kiasi screamed, and kicked Indio's hand off his dick and stomped a military boot on the hand. Now Indio's hand was in acute pain, and his dick was still filled with way too much cum.

As Indio squealed in pain, Kiasi kindly took his boot off Indio's hand. Indio's dick was so hard that it was preventing him from lying on the floor. It was making Indio crazy. Perhaps Indio would never be allowed to cum.

"You are too eager, Indio." Kiasi said severely. "I know it's been six weeks since you were allowed to cum, but I think you will have to wait possibly until the weekend."

Indio sighed and hung his head sulkily, and Kiasi ordered him to stand up. Kiasi then duct-taped Indio's genitals again, and sent Indio on his way.

On Saturday, Indio showed up again. Kiasi's family had gone out of town. But Kiasi was not alone. "Sipple!" Indio said, not too pleased. There stood Indio's former submissive with a big grin on his face.

"Indio, this weekend, Sip will get his own back upon you, and your obedience to him will preclude whether or not you will be able to cum." Kiasi said. "Strip now."

It was almost too much for Indio. Sip was a weak-willed, ridiculous creature that Indio had taken pity on, and he'd never really been attracted to Sipple, the way he was to Kiasi. But apparently, Kiasi had decided that this was the ultimate humiliation.

It was quite a weekend--Sip supervised Indio as he cleaned Kiasi's entire house, Sip overseeing with the deadly Carpet Beater, as Kiasi smoked Galliouses and looked out of the window.

Before the end of the day, Kiasi asked Sipple if there was anything he'd like to do to Indio. "You know, I think he reduced my ego so much, that I'd like to get at a point of pride of Indio's, " Sipple said. "I'd like to shave Indio's head. He's so damn proud of his long, black hair."

"P-please, Sipple" Indio begged. "Not my hair. We weren't allowed to grow it long at Boysville--we had these horrible crewcuts, and I've really enjoyed growing it long." Kiasi went to get clippers, and Indio wept as Sipple shaved his entire head.

"Indio never knew how difficult he'd made my life with his mastership." Sipple said at Indio's 1990 funeral. "This I thought was really good for his ego."

"And we will keep it shaved." Kiasi said, laughing. "For as long as you are my slaveboy." And that was that.

Kiasi ordered Indio to service Sipple with his mouth several times, and finally sent Indio's submissive laughingly on his way. "Now that you've put me through the ultimate humiliation, Master," asked Indio sadly, "Will you let me cum?"

Kiasi only smiled, and he tied Indio down, wrists and ankles to the bedposts on Kiasi's youngest sister's Princess bed. Kiasi greased his hands up and put Indio through an incredible teasing session, singing Lusakan lullabyes as he pulled and stroked Indio's penis gently.

Indio tickled and gently drummed his fingers on Indio's thrusting erection. "Are you excited, Indio?" Kiasi asked. "Y-yes Master, I'm quite excited." Indio said, and his dick was just incredibly thick.

He had now been denied for over two months, and his balls were just chock full with overloaded semen. It had been hellish trying to keep from ripping the tape off and jerking off time after time, though of course Indio was quite turned on by the struggle.

Kiasi put a blindfold over Indio's eyes, and cuffed Indio's right hand, the hand that he used to masturbate to his right leg, so that Indio had to sort of crouch uncomfortably, while being blindfolded, and jerk his dick with his unfamiliar left hand.

"Now you may masturbate, Indio" Indio was so excited, it had been two months since he'd cum, and he began masturbating faster and faster...Kiasi watched closely until he saw that Indio was about to orgasm, and then Kiasi kicked Indio in the stomach with his Vietnam combat boot.

Indio rolled over grabbing his stomach, and forgetting his cock for a moment, as his wind had been pushed out. Finally, he groped around in the dark that the blindfold made, and got back into his crouch position. Finally, as he began to breathe, he asked Kiasi, "What did you do that for, Master?"

"Indio, you ask too many questions. Do you wish to resume masturbating?"

Indio nodded excitedly and began running his hand up and down his cock even more quickly, hoping he could cum before Kiasi kicked him again.

Indio began masturbating at record speed, his hand running up and down his cock. The left hand was certainly a weaker hand, but Indio was trying hard, and was determined that he would be able to orgasm soon. As he was getting more and more excited, he felt a sting on his arm.

Thinking it was just imagined, Indio jerked more and faster, and was beginning to pant, when he felt another sting on his left nipple, and then yet another on his earlobe.

"What' s that?" Indio asked. He couldn't see a thing, of course, through the blindfold.

Kiasi's voice came, laughing. "I am shooting peas at you, Indio. It shouldn't bother you that much, should it? Sipple bore up well under the rocksalt."

Indio gritted his teeth and kept pulling his penis again and again, trying to focus on a memory of a sexy Puerto Rican boy that worked in Sugar's drugstore across from Georgetown University.

PING PING PING! The peas were coming faster and faster. How did Kiasi have time to breathe? PING! Suddenly one pea hit Indio's cock, hard, and Indio let go and began weeping under his blindfold.

"All right, Indio" Kiasi's voice was chastened. "We are done with the pea shooter." Indio sneezed, and resumed playing with himself.

As Indio jerked his dick, Kiasi hopped into the kitchen and brought out a pail of ice water from the refrigerator. He had been preparing this for days, and was quite excited.

Indio began jerking his cock faster and faster. He couldn't see a thing as Kiasi had bound his eyes so tightly, but he continued to pull his pud anyhow. Soon Kiasi saw the familiar shaking, and immediately doused Indio with the ice-cold water, and Indio howled.

Indio rolled over, gasping, and of course it was made more difficult by the fact that his hand and ankle were locked together. Finally, Indio pulled himself up.

"Now then, would you like to try once more." Kiasi could barely keep from laughing his ass off. This was like no entertainment he'd ever had, and Indio looked ridiculous, first with his bald head, and secondly all bound and blindfolded.

"I'm really horny, but I don't think I can take any more of your tricks, Master." Indio said angrily. "I think I'd rather just go without an orgasm for a while, until you REALLY want to give me one."

Kiasi unbound Indio and took the blindfold off, and pulled out the duct tape. "That could be a while, my slave boy."

Kiasi thought a long time about how to keep his slaveboy chaste

INDIO CHAPTER NINE

For the next few weeks, Kiasi teased Indio unmercifully, and taped him up after every teasing...weekends came and went, and Indio did not orgasm.Finally, after four months chastity Indio got a break.

In the fall of 1969, Kiasi allowed Indio to masturbate on his knees in front of Kiasi and his girlfriend, who was quite amused by all this...and Indio had a wonderful, fulfilling orgasm, which he was forced to lick up afterwards.

But then followed six more weeks of chastity and teasing, and for the first two and a half weeks, Indio complained a great deal about how hard it was going without orgasms...but then, suddenly, Indio became quite good about being taped up, week after week, and Kiasi marveled at how accepting Indio had finally become of being a chastity slave.

One Sunday night, Kiasi again taped up Indio's genitals, telling him that next weekend might be an orgasm date.

"Whatever you want, Master. I'll see you Wednesday." Indio left, and Kiasi marveled that there were no complaints from his faithful slaveboy. But when Kiasi was putting away his silver duct tape, he noticed some of the torn tape from Indio's crotch.

Peculiarly, the silver tape was of a different hue. Kiasi picked up the tape he'd ripped off Indio's cock, and compared it closely with the tape that he himself had just put on Indio's crotch, and realized they were two different brands.

Kiasi smiled grimly. "Well, no wonder there has been no whining in the past month." Kiasi wondered whether Indio had been masturbating every day, or fucking every gayboy in Washington, DC...this was annoying.

There was no doubt that Kiasi had to punish Indio for his trick, but he also had to find a way to ensure that Indio's chastity would be as permanent as Kiasi wanted it to be.

The next time Indio came over, Kiasi gave Indio a hug. "I have some good news, my Indio...you no longer have to wear that annoying tape."

Indio smiled "Really? We aren't going to do the chastity." Oh this is good news, Indio thought.

Kiasi smiled genuinely. "No, no...of course your chastity is mandatory for as long as you are my slaveboy. Indeed, I want to extend the periods that you are chaste, as you seem so much more passionate..

but I felt so badly about how sticky it must be, and ripping off all the tape and all that, so I have a surprise for you." Indio was just amazed, as Kiasi drove Indio to a tenement apartment in a dubious part of Southeast D.C.

They went up four flights of stairs, and Kiasi knocked on a bedraggled looking door. Bang-Bang! "Pimples! Wake up, oh Lieutenant!"

Kiasi banged on the door several times, and finally there was a New York voice "Aright aready quitcha banging dere." The door opened after many bolts were pulled, and what appeared to be a lizard in pink overalls looked out.

"Kiasi! Oh, Jesus, why so early, man!" The lizard-ish fellow, who was about five foot three, dragged on a Camel unfiltered cigarette that seemed to be stuck to his lower lip, blew snot out of his nose against the door, then burst into a violent smoker's cough.

When Indio told me about "Pimples" Petrucci later, he said that Pimples made the Dustin Hoffman Ratso Rizzo character in "Midnight Cowboy" seem like Arnold Schwarznegger.

As Pimples coughed and wiped himself on his bright pink overalls, Indio looked at Kiasi. "I don't know what this is about, Master, but I think we should go."

Kiasi smiled. "Nonsense, Indio! This will be a new and invigorating experience for you."

Pimples opened the door, and Kiasi and Indio stepped gingerly into a grimy apartment. To the fastidious Indio, he thought he'd fallen into some sort of gay Hell.

The walls were covered with 1930's and 40's pictures of muscle men in bathing trunks, and the floor was littered with cigarette butts, empty Madeira bottles and Judy Garland album covers.

"So you(hack) brought him (cough!) he's a cutie, Kiasi." Pimples inhaled the cigarette and squinted at Indio through thick sunglasses. How Pimples could see through the mirrored shades in the dark apartment was anyone's guess.

"Pimples and I served in Viet Nam together" Kiasi told Indio proudly. "And Pimples was my very first male lover." As Indio's stomach turned, Pimples nodded proudly.

"Yeah, we was in (cough) a foxhole,(hack) Kiasi and(cough) I, an' I (hack) said life was(cough) short, an' (hack) we(Cough) might(hack) die, so why not let (Cough)me suck his dick?"

As Pimples told this, the cigarette hung on the side of his mouth, and Indio was staggered that Pimples didn't have to take it out to breathe. "Kiasi (hack) is (hack) a god, ain't (cough) he?"

Kiasi grinned, and hugged Pimples. He picked the little man up, and patted him on the back as he hugged him, and Pimples coughed and spat phlegm over Kiasi's back, making the African look like he was burping the world's most revolting infant.

Silently, Indio wondered if Pimples had removed his cigarette before putting Kiasi's penis in his mouth.

"I didn't know before I met Pimples that I was bisexual, can you imagine, Indio?"

Indio thought silently that if he'd been propositioned by Pimples that he, Indio might well have become a heterosexual.

"Indio, Pimples is going to give you a Prince Albert." Kiasi said in a friendly way. "A-a what?" Indio asked, sweating.

"You're right, Pimples, perhaps I should let him have some refreshment first." Kiasi said as he looked at the sweating Indio.

This was a code word, for Pimples nodded at a bottle of chloroform on a shelf.

Pimples offered Indio a Coca-cola, and as Indio turned, Kiasi put a rag over Indio's mouth and nose, and Indio passed out.

"Y-see, it works (cough) better when(hack) I give a slave a (cough) piercing this way, Kiasi" explained Pimples, as they carried Indio into the "operating theater" "'Cause they always(hack) have these, like...hygiene(cough) questions?"

Ten minutes later, Indio was lying on a table, and Pimples was bending over him. Kiasi watched impassively as Pimples ripped off the duct tape, and inserted a tube into Indio's urethra, then poking a needle into the tube.

Kiasi winced, watching the needle and tube being pushed into the little hole at the end of Indio's cock.

"There might (hack) be a little (cough) blood, Kiasi, so if you're queasy..." Kiasi went to look out the window.

Finally Pimples announced that Kiasi could turn around, and Kiasi was amazed to see a metal ring that was simultanously hooked through Indio's glans and through his scrotum.

"It's beautiful" Kiasi said.

When Indio came to, and saw what had been done to him, there was a bit of a scene. "But Indio." Kiasi said gently, "I did not ask you to cheat on me by removing your tape and masturbating. You broke our trust.

If you like, Pimples will remove the chastity piercing, and we can break off our relationship...but if we are to continue being Master and slave, I must be sure that you are going to stay faithful to me."

Indio looked at Kiasi, at his beautiful muscles, his straight white teeth, and compelling brown eyes, and realized that he'd found love, his first love since Eugene had left Boysville, and he knew how important Kiasi was to him.

"All right...so you will remove it from time to time then, Indio asked? "I will get this off now and then."

Kiasi smiled grandly. "I have even better news in that fashion, Indio. You need to cum, and Pimples is very lonely. I will make a bargain with you.

You can serve me while pierced, and whenever you want to have an orgasm, you can come to Pimples and spend the night with him, serving HIS every whim, and you are a splendid cocksucker...

and then Pimples will remove your piercing so you can masturbate, and then replace it. Isn't that splendid?"

Indio looked with sickened eyes at Pimples, who had just removed his upper dental plate and was polishing the tobacco stains off on an old rag. "An' I can suck you too, baby..." Pimples leered at Indio. "When I take out my uppers and my lowers, I got a mouth like velvet, you know?"

Indio looked beggingly at Kiasi. "There must be a better way, Master. Is there nothing else I can do...I can't masturbate in front of you, Sir.?"

Kiasi shook his head with annoyance. "No, I want our get togethers to be about serving me, not involving your satisfaction at all. You can work that out with Pimples. Perhaps you are not quite attracted to him now, but after a few months of chastity I have no doubt you will be banging at his door.

And Indio, if you take any alternative, and sneak this Prince Albert thing off without doing as I say, you and I will be finished. Finito. Now, I want you to give Pimples a nice blowjob as payment for his good work."

As Pimples dropped his filthy pink overalls, and Indio dropped to his knees, Kiasi looked out the window once more, whistling.

Well, Indio discovered that Pimples wasn't just nasty outside, but inside too. He was a real little creep. The next eight months were hell for my brother of choice, as he was taking harsh punishment sessions with Kiasi, which really turned him on.

Then in the evenings, Indio was engaging in evening make-out get togethers with repressed young men from Georgetown University, (Indio was a legend in the tea rooms at the University--every restroom had at least one drilled hole with a bit of cotton around it.) So with all the dick-sucking Indio was doing, and not getting to reciprocate, it was just awful.

Once in a while Indio would show one of his lovers the cruel Prince Albert piercing, and the young men, saddened by Indio's plight, would lick and kiss his cruelly bowed cock.

This was delicious for Indio, but of course he couldn't cum, and he'd leave the evening with a sore mouth from all the cocksucking and still be completely horny with his balls full because his partner could only reciprocate so much.

So, as Kiasi had advised, Indio could see Pimples as much as he wanted to "You can cum every morning after servicing Pimples every night" Kiasi would say, laughing. But Indio was so horribly revolted by Pimples, that he waited forty days the first time before finally going and knocking on the door of Pimples's cold water tenement flat.

I didn't ever meet Pimples, but Indio found an old Public Assistance identification card on Pimples's floor and sent it to me, along with Pimples's parole ID from an ancient pederasty conviction. The photos weren't good, but I have never seen a fouler creature.

His name should have been Pockmarks instead of Pimples, or maybe LupusLeperman. Though the boy had his fair share of acne, there were plenty of other dermatological horrors--eczema, hives, occasional shingles (15 years before the advent of HIV, my hearers)warts, impetigo, Herpes Simplex Everything, and it turned out that the reason Pimples wore sunglasses in his dark little apartment was because he was "half albino." It's proof that they took EVERYONE for Vietnam.

In addition to this, Pimples had some nasty tubercular condition, and was constantly coughing up his lungs, spitting, and dropping his dental plates everywhere.

You'd think that Pimples, would consider that he was such a repulsivo, and make the sex that Indio was to give him very easy-going, maybe a quick blowjob or something. But no...Pimples wanted it all, as if he were a Greek God!

"Neck with me, half-caste, lick my canker sores in my mouth and lick my hole body!" Think of it, all one hundred and eleven pustules! And then, of course, a bit of rimming.

And Pimples was just insatiable--Indio had to suck Pimple's pee-pee four or five times, and quite often Pimples wanted to do the money shot all over Indio's poor face. When Pimples had had enough lovin' for the night, he ordered Indio to clean the apartment, and make Pimples and his friends dinner...

Then, after dinner, Indio had to let Pimples butt-fuck him, and turn him over and do horrific other things. One of Pimples's amusements was to shove old Christmas tree ornaments up Indio's ass, and to tie fireworks to Indio's balls and set them off... Now and again he'd bind poor Indio down and throw darts at his ass, yes Pimples was a horrible bully!

And Pimples's vanity was just beyond mention. At one point when Pimples was trying to kiss Indio, Indio turned his head away from Pimples, and this enraged the Lupus-Leperman so much that Pimples actually took his belt off and strapped Indio's palms, which was far harsher than whipping the buttocks.

And of course Indio didn't get to jerk off til the next morning. When Indio tried to masturbate a second time, Pimples said "Oh no, not unless you spend today and tonight with me, baby!"

So Indio sadly allowed Pimples to lock him back up again in the Prince Albert, and didn't return to the horrible little apartment for another seventeen days...and after that, Indio had been so revoltoed that he stayed away without release for another twenty-two days of celibate hell. And that's a lot for a handsome nineteen year old boy.

All during this, Indio was servicing Kiasi and taking vicious punishments from the African.

It mystifies your writer, Hooks here what you masochists value in being abused, because Indio kept writing me these horrible bitter letters about how horny he was, but how reluctant he was to see Pimples again.

But finally, Indio was so horny that he began coming to see Pimples every three or four days. He was cheerful about it, and really, really tried to make Pimples feel as if he was an attractive guy when being serviced. This may well have been a mistake, though.

Because Pimples should have been called Pimp for short. After a few weeks, Pimples called Kiasi and asked him if Kiasi thought that it would be all right if Pimples had Indio service some of his other gross friends--people he'd met at traffic school,in the public restroom at Dupont Circle, and in the infamous alley behind the Trailways station.

Kiasi said that was up to Indio, mercifully. But at some point, Pimples had really begun to understand Indio's character, and so the next time the olive skinned beauty showed up at the leper's door, the message was clear. First Pimples stripped Indio down and tied him over a hassock, and wore out a wet towel on Indio's quivering ass.

CRACK! WHACK! SLASH! TWHACK! After Indio was good and bruised, Pimples threw the towel down. "Look here, you disgusting half-breed. I've decided that I'm not going to let you cum unless you service some of my friends.

Kiasi says it's up to you, but I'll tell you something. You can get the fuck out of here and find someone else to take that Prince Albert piercing out of your cock, or you can give it up to a couple of my pals."

What could Indio do? He was under the spell of his Master Kiasi and something in Pimples's message appealed to the inner slaveboy of Indio, I guess. So Indio just nodded his head and said "Whatever you want, Master Pimples." and then true hell began for my poor brother of choice.

The first night, Indio just blew three of Pimple's friends, and they were greasy blue-collar types, and let one of them beat him with a belt a little bit. And then of course Indio cleaned Pimples's disgusting apartment, and then serviced the troll all night long.

Pimples was even more excited by Indio's subservience, and he spent most of that night straddled on Indio's head slamming his cock in Indio's mouth, and calling Indio a bitch. "I'm going to whore you out something considerable, you wog bitch!" It was a bad time for our Georgetown University sophomore.

The next morning, Indio prepared to jerk off, but Pimples insisted that Indio rub his dick against the dining room table "like the dog you are". Indio is cursed with masochism as well as sadism, and Pimples was not surprised to see Indio return that night, which was advantageous for Pimples, who was hosting a combination between a crossdresser's salon and a shooting gallery.

Yes, twelve obese transvestite drug addicts shooting up and listening to Billie Holliday. Imagine their surprise when, in addition to Pimples providing the scag, the works, and the place to shoot up in...he also was bringing in sex!

I think the trannys paid Pimples ten bucks each, which was good money in that time, to have Indio bathe, massage and sexually service each one of them, before Indio went to his old chores of cleaning Pimples's apartment and of course servicing the so-called Master.

The following night, Indio came back once again, and Pimples introduced Indio to a strange man called Count Iglehart. "Now the Count has some peculiar desires that I don't really understand, Indio, but I want you to do his favors, and if you do them well, I will allow you to masturbate twice tomorrow, and in addition, I will let him tip you cash if you like."

Indio shook hands with the Count, who was a sixty-seven year old man with white hair, peculiarly dressed in short pants and a little jacket and cap--of the sort that schoolboys wore back at Harrow and Eton.

The Count handed Indio a wicked looking cane and said "I've not done my lines, Master...are you angry?"

I have taken some time off from writing the story of my brother of choice, particularly because this bit of the story was so painful. When I last wrote of Indio, months ago, he was about to get involved in an S&M scene with Count Iglehart, while being pimped by an awful little creep called Pimples.

Indio should have walked out of there, and to Kiasi's credit, he never would have ordered Indio into such a situation if he'd known what happened. When Indio began whipping Count Iglehart, the Count had a fatal heart attack.

Kiasi wanted to help Indio out, but Indio insisted that Kiasi stay out of the ensuing legal battle, as the last thing Indio wanted was for his Master to be deported.

There was a lot of legal folderol, but, despite Sipple and his father helping with legal expenses, Indio was sentenced to ten to fifteen years in prison for manslaughter.

Indio had made bail and continued with his studies, but of course he had to go into the Lorton Reformatory at age nineteen, where he ended up serving seven years and eight months of the fifteen year sentence...and what a time he had!

Nothing happened to Indio during the time he was in the Processing phase, but when he finally made it into general population, many of the older, bigger convicts were fascinated by this beautiful young half-breed.

It had been all over the Washington Star, about Indio losing his scholarship because he'd gotten involved in male prostitution, and there were a number of convicts who wanted to get a piece of him, the biggest of whom was a con I'll call Scalpel.

"Forget it!" Indio told Scalpel the first time Scalpel made his approach. But Scalpel was friendly, and Indio quite naive. Indio had a two pack a day Luckie habit, and so he was quick to accept Scalpel's offer of cigarettes and candy.

When Scalpel explained, at the end of two weeks of "spoiling" Indio, that the young man owed him a debt, Indio was horrified.

"There are two ways to handle it, sweetcakes" Scalpel told Indio kindly. "You can be my bitch, or I can sell you to some other guys, and they'll fuck all the cute-juice out of you...you don't want that, do you?"

But Indio decided to fight Scalpel, and they had quite a tussle, because although Scalpel was a lot bigger, Indio knew about four kinds of martial arts. But in the end Indio's head was down on the cold stone floor of Cellblock #3352, and Scalpel's boot was on Indio's neck.

"Sugar, why don't you give in" Scalpel asked soothingly. "Otherwise I'll have to knock your teeth out so you can give a softer, kinder blowjob, and it'll ruin your pretty face.

I like it that you want to play hard to get, but there's only so long that I'll spend breaking a rebellious colt before I get out the big gun to shoot him."

Casually, Scalpel's other boot jammed down on the little stiff cock between Indio's legs, making the ball sack feel as if it were being pummeled by a sledgehammer.

Somehow, Indio heard kindness in Scalpel's words, and against his will, he began growing an erection. As he moaned, Scalpel took his boot off Indio's neck, and my brother got up and stripped off his prison uniform.

Indio then knelt and undid Scalpel's zipper and pulled out Scalpel's huge cock and began sucking it tenderly, giving Scalpel the best blowjob he'd had in his lifetime from man or woman.

Scalpel got quite excited feeling Indio's expert tonguing and biting of his massive cock, and after a while, he grabbed Indio's ears and began skull-slamming him, making poor Indio choke on the huge penis log filling his mouth up, utterly.

"Oh yes...yes" Scalpel moaned, closing his eyes and thinking of hot blonde girls fucking as he pushed his cock deeper and deeper into Indio's throat. Indio willed himself not to have a gag reflex, hoping he would not choke to death...but he knew that Scalpel was the ultimate Master.

"More, more...(slam) You know you want it boy (slam slam) Oh yeah..." Scalpel jammed and jammed the cock again and again and finally shot his load down Indio's throat, and Indio swallowed it without a murmur.

"I need a lot of toughness, Master" Indio said, his brown eyes gazing into Scalpel's submissively. "I need the strap. Is there one here in the cellblock?" Scalpel's scarred face broke into a grin.

"I guess you do need one at that. Bend your naked little body over the bunk, and we'll see what we can do with my belt."

Scalpel put his beef into whipping Indio's tender little buttocks, and Indio had never felt the strap hitting as harshly.

Scalpel was a starting pitcher for one of the prison ball teams, and aimed the strop so it savaged Indio's buttocks, his inner thighs, and easily cracked between where his little nutsack was.

"Open them legs, boy!" Scalpel screamed, and again and again his strap slammed Indio's balls into the concrete floor as Indio sobbed and tried to hold out against the intense pain.

When Indio moved his legs together protectively, Scalpel kicked them apart violently, and the toe of his boot kicked the scrotum again before the strop began landing against the floor.

For my female readers, I have a difficult time explaining how tender the testicles are, and Indio had had them tortured extensively in the past. They'd been burned, squeezed and whipped, but nothing like this.

Scalpel had been locked up in Lorton Reformatory for eighteen of his thirty-seven years. He'd come in originally to protect a younger brother from being sentenced on a drug charge, and then he'd killed a predator who had tried to take his rectum the first night in jail.

Unfortunately, the predator had been a guard, not a convict, so Scalpel's sentence had gone from five years for possession to life plus twenty-five. So Scalpel had spent the last eighteen years fighting, running gangs...he was the toughest inmate in the reformatory, and he could make poor Indio pay!

Scalpel bounced the strop off Indio's ass, legs and feet and then worked his way back up to Indio's shoulders. Indio's screams of anguish had every convict on the block masturbating with excitement.

When he was done, and Indio was crying and moaning, Scalpel bent over, dropped his own pants and began fucking Indio in the ass. "And Indio, I think when I'm done, I'll let the boys come in and take their turns with you."

"But Master" Indio pleaded. "You said you would just have me for yourself." But as he heard his Master's cruel laughter, Indio only bent over weeping softly, and listened for the cell door to open, and soon the crowded little room was filled with big, strong, horny men.

Indio was turned over on his back. A penis went into Indio's asshole, and a second into his mouth. Indio, with some prodding from Scalpel's strap, was encouraged to take two more dicks in each hand, and to start jerking.

Four men were now being serviced, and when Indio's mouth, hands and rectum were filled with cum, four more came to take the other's place and again it started.

Eventually the men wanted "sloppy seconds" and forced Indio to just go on his knees and give blowjob after blowjob, with men coming and going from the "party" as it was called. Indio told me later that his mouth felt like it was repeatedly jammed with marbles or something, there was so much in and out fucking.

Ferret O'Neil told Scalpel that his dick felt like heaven in that little Indian's mouth, and Clarence the Clutch said he'd not felt so good since he'd beheaded his mother and used her for a bowling ball. Sneaky Snyder wanted Indio to lick out his filthy, gonorrhea infested buttocks, and Scalpel made Indio give the Sneak a thorough rimming.

By the time it was over, Indio was exhausted, and his mouth was quite distended, as was his rectum. His hands were exhausted, and unlike Kiasi, who would have comforted Indio in his strong arms at this point,

Scalpel just threw the little half-breed on the floor, to shiver in the corner. As Indio's hand moved to stroke his own cock Scalpel stomped it with a boot.

"Don't you dare touch that little wiener of yours, son." Scalpel said harshly. "You don't deserve it. You've got a lot of serving to do before your fun time starts."

That night, as Scalpel slept comfortably on his own bunk, and Indio's bunk was filled with boxes of Scalpel's stuff, my poor brother was tied up in the corner of the hard cell, sleeping uncomfortably, but fully aroused.

Indio's hands were tied behind his head, and his feet were tied to his hands, but somehow Indio tried to cum by rubbing his dick against the cruel bricks in the cell. It didn't come to fruition, but Indio was quite aroused in trying.

Scalpel had made a real strict rule that Indio not pleasure himself until he'd been Scalpel's cellmate for about sixty days. Indio had one helluva chastity restriction there, he thought, but Scalpel was unflinching.

"You need to take care of my needs, Sugar, and learn to be a good little Maytag. (what a cellmate who washed clothes and tended to a dominant jocker was called) and take care of those of my boys before you get to poke that little pecker o' yours."

Scalpel's laugh had resonated through the cellblock, watching the horny Indio gazing wistfully and dejectedly at his own pulsating, unfulfilled member.

Scalpel would also occasionally, after having cum in Indio's mouth again and again, tease Indio's penis a bit, before ordering my brother to shove the hard, precum soaked erection back into his pants.

Indio was determined, though to do Scalpel's will and not touch his erection at all...but it was too hard. No pun intended. All those hot, meaty men in a prison environment, having to shower next to those beautiful naked bodies...were torment.

Big, thick, swinging dicks, others small but quite nubile, wee-wee's everywhere, just the best and most delicious looking members Indio had ever seen!

Once in the shower room, after Indio had been denied an orgasm about eighteen days, a beautiful, slender boy with curly hair called Henrik sidled up to Indio, and had asked my brother with full simpering lips, to do his back.

Indio had industriously scrubbed the beautiful young boy's back, buttocks and thighs before Henrik had turned around and planted a wet one on Indio's mouth.

Henrik's tongue darted in and out of Indio's mouth, and Indio, sore for some tenderness after the vicious reception from Scalpel and the boys had nearly burst into tears from gratitude.

Henrik turned around again in the shower and rubbed his soft, tiny bubble-buttocks against Indio's rock-hard cock as the poor half-breed gasped with desire.

Henrik laughed and tossed his curls as Indio pulled closer to the little fairy-boy. "You really seem excited there, brown boy" Henrik said lightly. "Not had much in a while?"

"I'm not supposed to umm, cheat on my cellmate-lover" Indio stammered. He'd never been close to someone of such obvious beauty before. Henrik spun around, pouting and ran a long finger down Indio's heaving chest. "That's too bad, really...I'd love to have my bun filled with your dog, honey."

Then Henrik leaned over and stuck his tongue down Indio's throat before telling him "I'll see you tomorrow, baby!" and running out of the shower room.

Indio obsessed about Henrik all night, trying not to touch himself. Scalpel commented on the enthusiasm Indio had in sucking dick that evening, not knowing that Indio was fantasizing about Little Lord Fauntleroy of the Shower.

The next day, Indio came into the showers and saw Henrik there, but Henrik was talking to another showering inmate. Henrik saw Indio, and instead of prancing over, just rolled his eyes and turned to the other fellow, a black man and talked to him some more.

At one point they both looked at Indio and giggled, and Indio became enraged. He stomped over and looked at Henrik, his penis hardening against his will.

Henrik looked at Indio again and then looked back at the Negro. He then kissed the Negro lightly on the cheek, and flicked the guy's nipple. Indio felt his eyes filling with tears. What kind of a sadist was this?

Finally Henrik patted the black fellow and turned lazily to Indio, who was overcome with anger, sadness and agony. "What's wrong there, Wog?" Henrik asked with an impudent, heart shaped smile. "Trying to monopolize me?"

Indio tried not to grit his teeth. "Well, I just thought you wanted to get together again and be...friends?" What could he want with Henrik? He couldn't cheat on Scalpel--might get killed doing that, but he couldn't get Henrik out of his mind.

"But honey-bun" Henrik said, pouting heavily. "I thought you couldn't fool around, anyway, and why would you want to just be friends with a country boy like me?"

Henrik put his hand on Indio's shoulder and pushed my brother down on his knees. The curly boy then forced Indio on his back and began rubbing his foot on Indio's penis back and forth, as Indio gasped.

"You like that, don't you honey?" Henrik asked this casually as his toes traveled down Indio's scrotum and began pressing heavily on Indio's ball sack.

Before Indio could wince in pain, Henrik's toes traveled slowly back up his undershaft, and Indio's eyes rolled back in his head. Everyone else in the shower room was staring as Indio lay on the wet floor, and the beautiful Henrik ran his foot up and down Indio's dick.

"What's wrong, honey?" Henrik asked gently as his foot went back and forth, covering Indio's crotch with little step-teases. "You afraid you're going to get in trouble for messing around with me?"

Henrik's foot managed somehow to land on Indio's frenum, and he began circulating the heel of his foot on Indio's penis, so that the penis was being stimulated round and round.

Indio couldn't believe how wonderful this was. His poor neglected penis was finally getting its due...though he was terribly worried that Scalpel might find out!

Indio noticed that Henrik's toenails were manicured in a French style and that someone was taking great care in maintaining Henrik's feet...they were like a young girls.

Henrik seemed to know the greatly neglected spots on Indio's trembling penis and he touched every spot up and down with the right precision, as if he could feel it himself.

"I used to do this for my lover, you know" Henrik said with a smile, as his foot passed back and forth across Indio's suffering crotch. "That's why I'm here...I had a fat old man as my rich lover and he ended up signing thousands and thousands of dollars over to me that belonged to his family...and then I got him to bug the Supreme Court!"

Henrik laughed lightly, thinking of this. "I was involved also with one of the justices--can't tell you which one, but he was quite conservative--and I wanted to get incriminating stuff. But I was caught swindling poor Osbert, and given five years in this dreadful prison...it's so boring and tiresome...even with letters and money orders from Osbert every week!"

Henrik laughed and then spat directly in Indio's face, just for the fun of it, but my brother-in-choice just lay there and took it, because he was so desperate to get the massage...

Henrik continued this foot-penis massage for a bit...then, just as Indio was about to cum, Henrik jumped back and turned the shower directly on Indio's crotch, ice cold and Indio screamed.

"Just wanted you to stay honest for your lover baby!" Henrik said, as he dashed off, laughing.

Indio was left erect and gasping after Henrik's cruel shower blast. He had just not expected to find someone who could tease him so fully and cruelly.

The next day when Indio breathlessly ran into the shower room, looking around desperately, Henrik wasn't there. Some of the other showering convicts jeered at the poor half-breed, seeing his anxiety.

For a week Indio looked for Henrik in the showers, and couldn't find him.

He wondered what had happened to the beautiful young man. At night, Indio's sleep was constantly disrupted by images of those beautiful bubble buttocks, taunting him, and he wondered if he would see Henrik again.

But Lorton is a big prison, and it's difficult to find people. Indio was restricted much of the time to his cell, as Scalpel expected his "Maytag" to be doing housechores and other things.

One lonely day, as Indio was scouring the bottom of the cell with a toothbrush as per Master Scalpel's orders, he heard a mocking giggle and looked up. There was Henrik standing outside the cell with two other effeminate nelly queens.

Against prison orders, Henrik was wearing shorts and a blouse, and the blouse was tied up over his waist, exposing an insolent navel. "Look, Fabio" said Henrik with a giggle. "That's the poor Wog that I doused with the water...look at him, he's a scullery maid."

"Oh, go on wit your bad self, Henrik" Fabio said back, and all three queens giggled. At first Indio looked down angrily and tried to ignore Henrik.

After all, Henrik had treated him so badly. But Indio's cock was pressing against his pants as he thought of the beauty...and my God, Henrik's legs were even shaved!

Henrik leaned over. "What're you doing there, piggy?" The fairy shook his tousled curls contemptously. "Look at him, girls. Just a scrubbin' away. I should get you to clean my cell that good."

Indio looked up, his cock swelling a tent in his pants and noted with amazement that Henrik was wearing eye shadow, vivid blue.

He tried to look down again. Scalpel had ordered that these baseboards be spotless upon his return to the cell, and Scalpel was not a man to be trifled with.

He heard the queens tittering some more, but tried desperately to not look up.

"Well, if you don't want to talk, Cuddlybum, then maybe we should be flouncing off." Henrik's mocking voice floated over Scalpel's cell and it was just too much.

Indio scrambled up, staggering over to grip the bars of his cell as he stared out at Henrik. The cells were actually open, but Scalpel had ordered Indio to stay in the cell until further notice.

So the half-breed stared at Henrik hungrily as Henrik's friends giggled some more. He'd spent a week obsessing about whether he should confront Henrik angrily, or ignore him, or what, but of course he capitulated to sad begging, the begging of a chastity slave.

"H-Henrik, I missed you in the shower room, you-you hurt my feelings--" Suddenly Indio felt his legs trembling. Never before had he been so consummated by lust for a man.

Henrik coquetted girlishly, and reached through the cell bars, unzipping Indio's pants and pulling out the long brown cock. "I bet this little nigger snake has missed Auntie Henrietta, what?"

Indio dragged his trembling tongue across his lips at the boy's light touch, feather flickers around the cock head, and he barely noticed the looks of amused contempt on the faces of the other queens. He knew he was, at nearly twenty-one, an "old guy" next to these neophyte gay boys, and probably thought of as a dirty old man.

Henrik stroked Indio's shaft for a bit, and spoke softly, his face nearly touching Indio's through the bars.

"Did you miss Mommy, honey-bunch? Your Auntie Henrietta? Did you go off to your cell and wank your silly wee-wee after I doused you with the water last week. Remember that, girls?"

The three fairies burst out in enthusiastic peals of laugher, and Indio blushed, fully humiliated at the memory of how Henrik had got him, like Lucy pulling away Charlie Brown's football at the last minute.

"Poor thing, you looked so pathetic laying on the floor of the shower room like that."

Henrik tittered behind a manicured hand as the other toyed with Indio's suffering cock. "You know though, I'm getting tired of playing with this member of yours--"

"Oh, please don't leave." asked Indio with tears in his eyes. "P-please, I don't know when I'll see you again."

"Okay then, I have an idea" said Henrik with a mischevious smile. "Why don't you grip the bars hard, and just rub your dickie against them like this while I talk to you?"

Henrik made an obscene back and forth swaying motion with his hips, and Indio followed suit.

Now Indio was rubbing his dick against the bars as the fairy-boy put his own hands back in his pockets, laughing lightly. "That feels good doesn't it, chastity boy?

Everyone knows that evil Scalpel won't let you shoot your load. Must be quite strenuous for you, darling."

Henrik stepped back and unzipped his own fly, allowing the tip of his penis to poke out, a pink one-eyed worm. "Do you like it, Wog-boy? What do you think of Auntie's little garter snake?"

Henrik began waving his cock around as Indio continued to rub his own cock against the bars desperately.

"Wouldn't you like to put this nice little Vienna sausage in your hungry mouth, baby?" Henrik's voice crooned softly, and his two friends were quiet, as they themselves wouldn't mind that offer.

Indio's eyes watered as he stared at Henry's cock...oh, the need he felt! I got many tear-stained letters from him during this time, and he was one horny, unhappy convict.

Henrik spun and lowered his short-shorts. "And wouldn't you like to kiss the little rosebud between these full vanilla cheeks, chastity boy?" Henrik turned and stuck his tongue out at Indio obscenely.

"And yet you can't can you, Wog-boy?" Henrik asked with honeyed tones. "No, none of this for you, right?" Henrik continued to thrust his cock out as my brother rubbed his now quite blistered cock against the bars.

At one point, Indio tried to touch his cock, and Henrik snapped his fingers, ordering Indio to keep his hands behind his back. "No, you must be a rubbing fellow....dog that you are."

"Wh-why can't I suck your cock, Henrik? Is it because of Scalpel?" Indio begged with welling eyes. "I-I'll risk the..."

"No, not because of Scalpel..." Henrik said contemptously..."Because you're a filthy Asian Indian trash heap, and I like Aryan perfection in my men...I wouldn't let you lick the grime off my boots."

And with that, Henrik spun on his heel, traipsing down the catwalk with his two friends giggling behind him.

Indio pulled his cock back into his pants, sat in the corner, bursting into tears.

Henrik's cruelty stayed with Indio for many days after that. Indio was caught between being hurt and angry at Henrik, and wanting to relieve his swollen balls of the excessive juice from Henrik's teasing.

At some point, Indio knew he was going to have to jerk off...Lorton was driving him crazy. Filled with bodybuilders, gorgeous young guys with flat and rippling abs, ripped six-packs, big, bulging veiny biceps and pants so tight that their manhood was shamefully exposed.

And it seemed all the men in the prison had heard of Scalpel's dictum that Indio not release himself. Cries of "You know you want it" followed Indio all over the prison. Veodis Smoot, a credit card fraud artist would often catcall Indio as he passed, "You Henrik's bitch now, boy?"

Triple murderer Roscoe Snaggs would lick his full lips when Indio walked by, and Sid the Squid, a Mafia bagman would unzip his fly and wave his thick Italian sausage in front of Indio's nose during morning count, and other men teased the young half-breed unmercifully.

Finally, Indio broke down and began masturbating, and it got him in serious trouble with Scalpel.

The first time Scalpel caught Indio pounding his pud, he gave my poor brother a severe whipping with a South African police baton (no idea how that got in the prison) putting Indio in the infirmary for several weeks.

The second offense got Indio sodomized with a long wire dish scouring brush from the prison kitchen. This left poor Indio with rectal bleeding for some time, but he still couldn't keep his hands out of the Danger Zone.

Scalpel was well aware of what had gone on between Indio and Henrik, and actually approved of Indio fooling around with various men, as long as he didn't touch his pee-pee to the point of cumming...

But of course that was the rub, so to speak. How could a healthy twenty-one year old gay man in a prison full of hot men keep his hands off his nasty little weiner?

The third time Indio was caught masturbating, Scalpel took Indio to the prison garage, where he'd taken the battery out of a guard's truck.

"Wh-what are you going to do, Master Scalpel?" Indio asked in terror,as Scalpel industrously bound Indio's hands after having ordered him to strip. But Scalpel just grinned, and lugged the battery over, attaching a straightened wire hanger to it. Scalpel had donned rubber gloves, for some mysterious reason.

"Don't worry, Sugar. I'm just teachin' you that when Daddy gives an order, you'd better mind." Scalpel said as he suddenly threw a bucket of water over Indio, before bringing the coat hanger close and touching Indio's right nipple with it.

Suddenly Indio was jolted intensely and his nipple felt as if someone had been sizzling it with a clothes press. Just as Indio was about to scream, Scalpel put his finger to his lips, and my well-trained slave brother bit his tongue;. he didn't want to get his beloved Master in trouble with the guards.

Scalpel smiled, and Indio noticed that his Master's erection was nearly bursting out of his prison jeans. "Now we'll try the other nipple..." ZZAPPP! Indio nearly fainted with pain the second time, the vicious lightning coming from the truck battery was just nefarious.

Indio came to see me after he was finally paroled from the Lorton Reformatory, and when he finished this story, he just said with a gasp..."And then Scalpel put the wire down there." But Indio, seasoned sub that he was, just had been unable to give me much detail about how it feels to have an electrified coat hanger touch your cock and balls.

Suffice it to say, Indio passed out from the jolt, there was no resistance with his skin, since he was drenched from the water, and he was unable to touch his blackened penis for nearly a week without bursting into unhappy wails. "B-but I knew Scalpel really loved me to give me a lesson like that." Indio said later...no masturbation for that bad boy.

And Scalpel was well aware of how miserably painful Indio was feeling from the shocks. The night after he'd tortured Indio with the truck battery, he bound Indio's hands in the back of the cell. Indio had turned his commissary account over to Scalpel, and Scalpel had bribed the guards to stay away from their cell.

"Now that the hacks are gone, baby..we're going to have a lesson" Scalpel yanked down Indio's pants, and began playing with Indio's burned cock. "Don't you like this, honey...you like having your dickie prodded, Sugar?"

Indio moaned and cried softly. "P-please don't touch it, Master Scalpel. I-it hurts so much from the shock, Sir." Suddenly Indio's slight jaw was knocked back from Scalpel's fist.

"WHAT'S WRONG, SUGAR-BABY?" screamed Scalpel loudly. SLAP! Again, Scalpel's strong hand cracked Indio's tender skull. "I thought you liked having your dickie bird played with...you do enough of it agin mah orders!"

Scalpel twisted and squeezed Indio's penis again and again, and Indio screamed involuntarily, and then felt Scalpel's knee crash into his balls. Lying on the hard floor of the cell, Indio endured a couple of kicks to the stomach, before Scalpel grabbed Indio by his tortured member and dragged him up again.

Suddenly Scalpel began jerking Indio's cock back and forth as Indio screamed from the intense pain. "DON'T YOU LIKE HAVING YOUR DICK PLAYED WITH, YOU MISERABLE LITTLE PERVERT?" Scalpel screamed in Indio's ear. Scalpel opened a blister on Indio's frenulum, or the underside of his penis, and finally Indio begged with tears in his eyes for Scalpel to leave him alone.

Scalpel was not formally trained in BDSM etiquette, and had never been introduced to the concept of a safeword.

So Scalpel spent about twenty minutes knocking Indio down, trying to grind Indio's sore penis into the cell floor with his hard boot, and then dragging my poor brother up by his hair and backhanding him again.

And Scalpel finally slapped Indio hard across the head for the last time and exited the cell, and my brother was left to tend to the intense wounds that had been delivered him.

Indio passed out, and awoke to urine spattering into his blackened eyes. Opening his eyes, he rolled over in horror to find that the epicene Henrik was peeing on him. "Time to get up, Wog-boy!" Henrik said, chuckling.

"What-the hell?" Indio's dick immediately hardened seeing Henrik there. Henrik had had nothing to do with Indio since his insult a few weeks before. What the hell was going on now?

"I've purchased you from Scalpel, honey. Gather your meager belongings and move to my cell...you're going to be serving me now!"

Henrik was smirking, but Indio couldn't believe it. "I thought you looked down on me because I was a half-caste!" Indio shook his head in disbelief. Yet, his spirits were rising fast!

Could Henrik have some feelings for him, even if they were only pity for the poor slave-boy? Any attentions would be worth it, wouldn't they?

"Well, I wouldn't deign to allow you to make love to me, Miss Dinge, but I can use a nice Maytag in my house, and Scalpel didn't want too much for your purchase. So get your things."

Indio jumped up and began gathering his few possessions. "But am I allowed to change cells just like that?"

Henrik gave Indio a wintry smile. "Let's just say I have a few connections..."

Nothing is stranger in Indio's story than what happened after he became Henrik's slave in early 1971.

In some ways, Indio found it much more pleasant than rooming with Scalpel--Henrik allowed Indio to keep his commissary funds, and never raised a disciplinary hand.

"Fuck who you want, when you want, Woggie." Henrik said cheerfully. "Squirt all over the place, your semen is your own...you just can't have me."

But sady, that was all Indio wanted. He was allowed to bathe Henrik, and shave the fairy's legs, (for Henrik was a bit of a female impersonator at times) and even was allowed to lick out Henrik's asshole.

But Henrik was not interested in letting Indio fuck him, or to fuck Indio, or even to let Indio suck his penis, though Henrik did tease him constantly.

"You like it and you can't have it, but you can kiss the tip" Henrik would say, bursting into laughter as Indio smooched the tip of Henrik's pink wand. "It's just not for boys like you...you just ain't quality."

This was heartbreaking for my brother, who had always been considered quite exotic and desirable wherever he went... But Indio bided his time, thinking that perhaps Henrik would come around in time.

What astonished Indio about Henrik was the number of privileges he had. Henrik had a refrigerator and a television set in his cell, a rare thing in the early seventies.

Henrik could even leave his cell when everyone else was locked in, by only waving his finger at the hack.

Indio knew that Henrik was not from an influential family--his immigrant father had turned Henrik into the street at age thirteen upon finding him in the bathtub with their Presbyterian minister.

Henrik's rich ex-lover Osbert did send him money, but it wasn't much more than about fifty dollars a month... and Indio was well aware that Henrik had lots more privileges than that could buy!

But then one day, Henrik brought Indio to meet Deputy Superintendent Schildkraut, and all was revealed.

"But why are we going to see him?" Indio asked Henrik suspiciously as they opened the Deputy Superintendent's door.

Prisoners did not generally interact with so august a personage as a Superintendent without first going through the Captain of the Guards.

Not to mention the fact that Deputy Superintendent Algren Schildkraut, a former Marine captain, was known to be quite a martinet.

He had put down several prison strikes...he was feared even by the toughest convicts, and respected heavily by the warden.

But apparently Henrik was unaware or unconcerned about this.

"Not to worry, my little Wog...I'm the Deputy Superintendent's secretary, don't you know." Henrik said breezily.

Indio shook his head at this, knowing that Henrik, despite a awesome natural cunning, was barely literate and could have flapped his arms and flown over the wall as easily as typing a page.

As they entered, a raven haired man with full lips and a muscular build looked up from his desk. "Who comes in without knocking? Oh, Henrik it's you..."

Indio could see the look of pleasure on Schildkraut's face, but then he saw Indio, and he hardened again. "Who's this? Why are you bringing another inmate here, this isn't a social club."

Henrik smiled at Deputy Superintendent Schildkraut. "Oh, Shirley...can't I bring a friend here? Don't be such a bitch."

Deputy Superintendent Schildkraut slammed his fist on the table. "How dare you call me that. I am--"

Henrik chortled. "You're what? Deputy Superintendent Algren Schildkraut, the Iron Fist of this prison?

What crap, you're a little Shirley girl, who wears makeup when she's alone and sucks my dick on a regular basis...and I want Indio here to see it."

Indio's heart fell in his stomach. Good God, they'd be locked in the hole [solitary confinement] for a year!

But the young black-haired man's face turned blood red, and then white, and then Indio's unbelieving ears heard him say:

"It-it's not such a good idea, sir, to have another prisoner here, I-I-"

Henrik smirked and winked at Indio broadly. "Why not, Shirley? I just brought Indio here to see what a worm you are...you need a daily reminder, don't you?"

At this, Deputy Superintendent Schildkraut's eyes filled with tears. His lower lip began trembling. "B-but it's our secret, H-Henrik. P-please don't-don't."

And then the Deputy Superintendent stomped his foot like a child!

"Oh, Shirley, Shirley...I'm so disappointed in you, throwing tantrums like a little girl" Henrik said, shaking his head sadly. "I think it's time for your medicine, Shirley, girl."

Schildkraut's face grew paler, and he ran around the desk to face Henrik. Now it's coming, Indio thought nervously. He'll assault poor Henrik and put it down to self-defense.

Schildkraut's face began shaking, and he begged Henrik. "P-please, not here, not in front of this convict...please no--"

To Indio's astonishment and horror, Henrik reached over and began unbuckling Schildkraut's belt, looping it finally in his hand.

"Take out Mr. Naughty, my Shirley-girl...I'll just give you ten for your insolence this time." Henrik said judiciously.

"P-please, for God's sake, I'm the Deputy Superintendent, Henrik, I can have you thrown in solitary confinement! This is between us, who is this foreign nigger you are embarrassing me in front of?"

But Henrik licked his lips and smiled. "Fifteen now, for your racism. Take out your bad Mr. Naughty, before Mama gets angry."

"P-please no" begged Schildkraut, and Indio could see a bulge at his crotch area. "I'll get you a better television, a color one, oh Henrik don't do this to me!"

Henrik looked at Indio as if Schildkraut wasn't there. "This is what comes of not training and disciplining this bad child...can you believe his behavior?" Turning to Schildkraut, Henrik's eyes narrowed.

"It's doubled now. Thirty, and you'd better get that pecker out. Now."

And Indio's jaw dropped as the Deputy Superintendent of Lorton Reformatory unzipped his pants and pulled out a long, white penis.

Henrik smiled pityingly as Schildkraut's eyes filled with yet more tears.

"Baby, baby suck his thumb, sad little crybaby..." As Henrik spoke, he began fondling Schildkraut's erect penis, speaking softly to the astounded Indio.

"Isn't he something, Indio? Out there he's Mister Big Bad Prison Administrator, the Big Boss who cut our food budget last year so no one has had roast beef since like, November--"

At the word "November" Henrik twisted Schildkraut's penis violently, and Schildkraut moaned.

"Yes, but in here the big prison boss is just Shameful Shirley, a whining crybaby little girl!" Henrik took one hand off Schildkraut's cock and twisted his nipples through his dress shirt, and Schildkraut sobbed harder.

"Yes, he's just an annoying little whiner, isn't he" Henrik said as he continued to twist and pull Schildkraut's right nipple, to the point where Indio worried he might pull it off.

Schildkraut was easily a head taller and had at least a hundred pounds of muscle on Henrik but just twisted and groaned, his hands still behind his head as Henrik continued to twist and pull the nipple...and then suddenly he let it go, and Schildkraut sighed deeply.

"Now before I give you your licks, baby...why don't you put on your lipstick and show my Wog buddy here what a sissy-boy you are."

Henrik turned to Indio, smiling. "He's got his own hot-pink lipstick and on weekends, I make him wear fire-engine red nail polish, too."

Indio recalled that Henrik was often not available on weekends because he was in the administration offices. Was it for this perversion?

"Now come on, wimpie...let's make our lips all pink and nice for Governess Henrietta...okay?" Henrik's voice was sweet, but there was a steeliness beneath it, as well.

Schildkraut, quite aroused and sweating from Henrik's soft massage of his member, tried to gather himself together, and deepened his voice a bit as he said, "No more Henrik, this is...no more humiliation now."

Henrik let go of Schildkraut's now throbbing erection, flicking it hard with a long, manicured fingernail. SNAP! Schildkraut hopped, howled, and burst into tears again. Indio felt terribly sorry for the unfortunate administrator.

"Now you're getting fifty on your no-good little worm, you hypocritical tranny whore. Put that lipstick on now, or I'll thrash your bare bottom on the prison yard!"

Indio watched in astonishment as Schildkraut pulled out a bright lipstick and gave his full lips an adorning making him look like a Broadway showgirl.

"Now, you're going to move over to the desk." Henrik pulled Schildkraut's penis closer to his desk. "Now put your hands behind your head, Shirley, and grit your teeth...you're in for the big time."

Indio gazed at the scene in horror as Henrik lifted the belt, slamming Schildkraut's penis into the hard steel of the government-issued desk with the broad leather belt.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Schildkraut's hands were laced behind his head, and the tears were flowing like Niagra Falls. Henrik had chosen well to have Schildkraut put his penis over the desk, because the pain of the belt hitting the penis was doubled when said penis hit the metal desk.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! "You're going to learn not to sass your secretary, Shirley...it just takes so much punishment" Henrik said regretfully as the belt rose and fell again and again.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Schildkraut's mouth opened and he began to bawl.

"Good thing the halls are fairly quiet right now...otherwise we might be in a peck of trouble." Henrik said cheerfully as he slammed the belt against the Deputy Superintendent's unfortunate organ.

Indio noticed that Schildkraut's penis was turning purple and one of the veins appeared to be bleeding. He wondered if Schildkraut might have them both killed.

WHACK! WHACK!

Suddenly, Schildkraut moaned and the amazed Indio was astonished to see the tortured penis shoot wads of cum across the office!

Indio had been a master and a slave on and off since puberty, but he'd never seen such a hard core masochist as Algren Schildkraut. Imagine cumming while being whipped! It seemed impossible.

Henrik just laughed and continued swinging. Unfortunately, now that Schildkraut was no longer horny, the punishment seemed just pure pain to him, and he began wailing like there was no tomorrow.

"Oh quiet down, before I give you something to cry about, you bad boy!" Henrik said, when Schildkraut's screams became a bit oppressive.

But the Deputy Superintendent was screaming like a banshee, and Henrik's word was his bond.

"Now you're really gonna get it, sweetie!"

He took the end of the belt and began slamming the buckle into Schildkraut's cock, and finally the prison officer grabbed his penis and lay on the floor, sobbing vociferously.

"Well" sighed Henrik as he dropped the belt by Schildkraut's head, "That was only thirty-nine lashes out of the fifty you was going to get, but I imagine it sent a firm message."

Henrik then clucked his tongue, and Schildkraut got up on his knees and held up his hands like a dogs' forepaws in the "Beg" position.

Indio could see Schildkraut's penis, hanging flaccid out of his pants, covered with various welts from the belt. In spite of the evil flogging it had received, it was struggling once again to harden.

Henrik giggled. "Now lick my boots..they're filled with mud from being on the nasty yard that you administration types are too cheap to pave. So that means you've got to clean me up, and don't get any of that nasty lipstick on my nice boots!"

The Story Of Indio

Indio chapter three

STORY OF INDIO—CHAPTER FIVE

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