Die a Little


by Bn17boy <Bn17boy@yahoo.co.uk>

Well, it's all over. Matthew, my Master, is moving away and the vicious little Shane is going with him. I don't know what their relationship is. It could be Shane has been a closet submissive all along, which might explain his spitefulness. As for Darren, he'll relapse into the obscurity he dwelt in before Matthew was around.

They made me come over for a last humiliating session last night. Matthew had thought it all out.

"OK, boy, brace yourself ! Mister Darren is going to turn those pretty little buttocks of yours pink and glowing, Mr Shane is going to make them all red and sore for you, and I'm going to render them pure imperial purple - understood ?"

I'd never known him so poetical. They'd all been drinking.

I had to follow a ritual, they said. So we started.

"Please Mr Darren, will you give me a long, hard spanking, please Sir ?"

He had my pale, naked body over his knees and slowly, sensuously, he treated each buttock to repeated, rhythmic slapping. I could feel each area in turn warm up as he methodically covered the length and breadth of my generous rump, and soon my whole nether regions were tingling. My bottom felt like ' pins and needles ' but far fom numb. The slapping went on non-stop, my shame at having this rather gentle lad playing smack-bottom with my arse making me turn scarlet in the face as he made my cheeks glow the pink they needed. I could glimpse the proceedings in a mirror. Matthew looked pleased. Shane looked evil. As Darren came to a finish I felt his hand exploring not only the bottom but my crack, my hole, my sac.

"Please Mr Shane, will you give me a long, hard spanking, please Sir ?"

Shane followed the plan to the letter. Rhythmic too, but quick, urgent, he smacked and smacked my arse, as if torrential. tropical rain was beating down on cracked, red soil. It felt raw, like rabbit with the skin stripped off. I tossed and jerked as my cheeks clenched and I tried to think about anything, so long as it could drive out the pain, the searing jabs of agony as he brought his vicious swipes down on my defenceless arse, till indeed it had left pink far behind and every shade from vermillion to crimson flooded the target area.

"He's made my trousers all wet, the bastard", Shane snarled. I hung my head, mortified, not daring to look up at them.

Matthew thought this hugely funny and spread a towel from the bathroom over his knees. He signalled to me like a monarch summoning his subject.

"Please Master Matthew, will you give me a long, hard spanking, please Master ?

Matthew pulled my trembling body over his thighs and stretched me out, so all I could do was cling tight to his calves with my hands. He slid his left hand under my loins, holding me with my reddened rump arched high, and I heard the others sniggering. He paused while I clenched and waited. Then he began to slap, smack, smite my poor arse as he had never done before. His hand seemed to grow firmer and firmer, harder and harder, till I fancied it was a pneumatic drill pounding on my bottom. Aleady smarting, my cheeks were on fire now, aflame. I was sweating as if I was in a turkish bath. He was relentless, my buttocks felt as if they were bursting with pain, and I could see in the mirror that his hand was bright red where he had drawn blood. With each successive smack his hand skidded round on the sticky surface of my arse. And then I felt not numbness but a dull aching in between the blows, as the bruising set in. The skin shone like the purple of the thunder-clouds, laced with streaks of red.

When he was too exhausted to continue, he sent the others off. He stood me up. I could hardly hold myself up and I shook all over. He then grasped my nakedness and he used and abused me in every way open to a man. He penetrated my soul too, with the things he whispered in my ear.

After he had also gone, I surveyed my tender arse in that mirror, lightly fingering each buttock, almost gingerly, they were so alive, electrified, pulsating like a heart beating. So that was that! He had deleted all my entries on websites after that business of my proudly broadcasting them, but I still had my email address he had given me. And memories. So that was that ... I lay down on my belly on the sofa, and I cried, and I cried, and I cried.


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