The Brick: Chapter 8

Disclaimer: This is complete fiction. Any resemblance to other works, or real people is purely coincidental.

Please note, the characters in my stories never wear condoms. This is because the sudden urge to play it safe doesn’t really fit in with the mood I’m trying to create. Do not take this as an endorsement for unprotected sex; please do not bareback without first making yourself aware of all the potential risks that are involved. My characters can’t get STI’s ‘cause I don’t want them too, but the real world doesn’t work that way.

I yelped. The paddle slammed into my ass and I yelped again. The man wielding it shh’ed me and I bit my lip, trying to hold down my cries as he struck me again, and again, and again. I managed to reduce them to grunts in my throat, rather than full out shouts of pain, which was enough to satisfy him. He’d been going at it for ages now, or maybe it was only a few minutes but it felt like ages. When he started, he’d give my cheeks barely more than a tap with the paddle. He hit just the tiniest bit harder with each successive strike, increasing in such a fashion that it was barely noticeable. My ass warmed with each hit, tingling in a way that felt more than a little enjoyable. I hung by the arms from a chain going to the ceiling with only my toes on the ground, so to keep me steady, he stood at my side with one arm pressed against my chest, holding me against him. For the first part of the paddling, the warmth of my ass and the odd tingles through my body got me nuzzling against him in a bizarre affection, unable to see him due to my blindfold.

It just hurt now though, and it hurt a lot. So much that each strike shot through my entire body, making my heart flutter and instantly ending any sentence I was thinking. Even the voice that urged me to hold on and endure more found itself getting cut off with each strike. He’d hit me in a rhythm, with the same amount of time between each strike, but sometimes he’d skip a beat, causing my body to instantly flinch against him, expecting a shot of pain that never came. Part of me, a large part of me, wanted it to end. But the client, this man I’d never seen, whispered in my ear just as the strikes went from pleasant to painful and asked me, in a manner as polite as if he were asking me to hold a door for him, “I want you to hold on for as long as you physically can, and tell me when you can’t any longer. Can you do that for me?”

I told him I would. He was my first client and, Smirk assured me, very good at ‘breaking prisoners in all the right ways.’ After each strike, I was determined to hold on to the next one, and then the one after that. After every few, the client would whisper words of encouragement or praise in a soft voice that despite the heat of my body, made me shiver and I felt stronger for it. I was openly whimpering and yelping again now, and the client didn’t ask me to stop again; I could tell he knew that I wouldn’t be able to. He struck me again, and again, and again, and one final time which made me cry out, begging for his mercy. Tears were soaking into my blindfold and I could hear myself sobbing, but there was no further pain, only the client shh’ing me once more, both arms wrapped around me, telling me it was over.

“The Warden found a good one in you, Yelp.” He told me once I’d calmed down. The words made me smile and nuzzled against him once more. I told him I was sorry for not lasting longer, but he laughed. “Silly creature.” He called me. “You lasted for exactly as long as I asked you too.” He kissed me on the forehead. “And a lot longer than I expected. A lot longer than most first timers.” He stroked his hands very softly over my ass. “Glowing.” He laughed. “That’ll bruise nicely. I hope the Warden planned for you to be out of commission for a few days.” He said, making me smile. The truth was I could have had a client lined up right after this man for all I knew, but that didn’t seem to matter at the moment.

He let me breathe for a while longer, moving to stand in front of me, stroking his hands up and down my back or my chest. He asked me if I liked the paddling, and I awkwardly stuttered out half-sentences about it feeling good and being painful and wanting it to stop but not wanting to say no. He laughed and shh’ed me again. “That’s a yes.” He told me in a matter of fact fashion. He kissed me on the forehead again. “I enjoyed it too. But we’re not done yet.” His hands trailed up my stomach to my chest, and his fingers seized my nipples, just sharply enough to make me gasp.

He began to pinch them, squeezing them and pulling on them, twisting them slightly, making me whimper. Once again, he started so slowly and lightly that it felt good, building me up as he got a little bit more aggressive. I groaned my enjoyment, feeling confused as to why I found it enjoyable at all. I felt him move his legs, pressing up between mine, into the bulge of my jock, letting me grind against him as he continued at my chest. I felt myself stiffening against him, as much as the confines of my jock would allow, which wasn’t nearly enough. Even as the pain felt like it should have gone beyond feeling good, I still pressed myself into him, desperately wishing he’d remove what little clothing I had. I heard him make a soft moan of approval. “An easily excitable puppy with a taste for rubber who loves being tortured. You’re never going to get a moments rest if you’re not careful, Yelp.” He laughed as he kissed my cheek again.

Finally, I felt him release my nipples, though not before rubbing them, which somehow managed to hurt more than the entire time they were being tortured. He explained that it was something he had to do, telling me something about health which I only half listened too, since his hands were moving down my body with a cruel slowness, towards my jock. “Does someone want some attention?” he asked me with a mocking tone in his voice. I nodded vigorously, begging him with pleases, making him laugh. His hands and body disappeared from me, and I heard him moving around to stand behind me, pressing himself against my back. His arms wrapped around me and I felt his hands just above my waist, teasing the rims of my jock with his fingers, letting me plead even more, calling him ‘Sir’ and letting him know just how desperate I was for him to continue. “You beg so sweetly.” He told me, kissing me on the cheek. “It’s almost a shame to make such a beautiful sound stop, but I don’t see how I can resist it.”

I felt my jock slide down off me, down my legs and to the floor. Gasping as I felt myself come out into the air. I could tell I was leaking pre already, even before the client wrapped his hand around my shaft, placing his thumb against my tip and rubbing it gently. Any hardness I couldn’t reach while my jock was on was quickly obtained at his touch. His other hand slid down further, taking hold of my balls and gently squeezing them. I sighed my enjoyment as he started moving his hand, pumping me slowly as he kissed me on the neck. His grip tightened on my balls and started to pull at them, twisting them in different directions. It started growing more painful as his grip on both parts tightened, but that didn’t stop me from moaning out and wanting him to do it even harder. He did so, squeezing and pulling so hard that, if I weren’t so consumed by my pleasure, would have found terrifying.

I could feel myself getting closer and closer, building up despite the pain. My face was mere inches from his, I could tell, and I bit my lip thinking about it. I could easily turn my head to reach him. I wanted to feel his lips against mine when I came, but I knew that would ruin it. I whimpered ‘please Sirs’, not entirely sure what I was even begging for, just knowing that I wanted something from him. I felt his lips pressed against my ear, and as if to demonstrate just how much control he’d gained over my body, whispered in the quietest voice, “Cum for me.” I did so instantly, moaning out louder than I realised I could, feeling my body flinching with an almost vicious harshness against his body with each shot. He kept his grip the whole way through, before finally releasing me at its end, his skin practically peeling away from mine.

His hands slipped down to my hips, holding me against him as he kissed my neck, listening to me panting heavily as my mind swam and sank into the strength of climax. When it had finally started to clear, I said ‘Sir’, wanting to hear him speak, but he remained silent as he continued kissing and biting softly on the skin of my neck. I said it again, and finally he spoke with a gentle voice. “You liked that, I take it?” I nodded, grinning like an idiot. I heard him laugh and kiss my neck again. “I’m pleased.” He brought one hand from my hip till my ass, squeezing it ever so gently, though it didn’t hurt any more. “I definitely liked doing it.” He mused. The statement made my heart flutter – it was probably the strangest words of approval I’ve ever received, yet it made me feel a sense of pride. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me a while longer, before giving me one final kiss on the neck and leaving me, without another word.

Sometime later, the Warden came and unhooked me from the ceiling, removing the cuffs that had held me there. At first, he propped me up and tried to help me walk, but I instantly collapsed into him under my own weight, my legs feeling too weak and shaky. He just laughed and said “Don’t worry, Yelp. That’ll get easier with time.” He bent down and scooped me up into his arms, as easily as I might pick up a pillow. He let me take my blindfold off as he carried me out of my cell, which I saw now had my name on a sign above it, and took me through to the personal cells. I didn’t even know who I was looking for, but I still looked around, hoping to see the client. He wasn’t anywhere to be found, and we reached the personal cells undisturbed. Smirk was already there, laughing at me when he saw the Warden carry me, taking me from him and laying me softly down on the bed, mocking me as he did. I wanted to tell him to shut up but I knew I couldn’t speak again now that the client wasn’t here. Plus he started scratching behind my ear, which I had quickly discovered made anything forgivable.

Smirk and the Warden spoke of something I was too exhausted to pay attention to, then the Warden left, telling me I’d done a good job as he went. Smirk laid down beside me, stroking his hand softly over my abused ass and asked me if I was alright. I let out a weak whimper with an even weaker smile on my face, which he lowered himself to and kissed. “No one knows what he looks like, y’know.” He started explaining after we laid there for a while. “No one ‘cept the Warden, of course. Always insists upon a blindfold, that one. That’s what the other guys told me, anyway. He even pays extra so that any prisoners being used at the same time in different cells are all blindfolded.”

I thought back on the experience, and realised that one thing was bothering me. I chewed on my lip, trying to work it out in my head. I looked to Smirk, and he could see the confusion on my face. After asking what was wrong and staring at me for a moment, he realised that it wasn’t something I could express in barks and whimpers – though my barks did get more impressive each time I practiced them - so he lowered his head to mine and asked me what was wrong. I whispered into his ear. “He didn’t…” I said, almost scared of my own voice, knowing I shouldn’t be speaking. “He didn’t… Y’know…” Smirk lifted his head up again and smiled.

“Cum?” He asked me, and I nodded. “He doesn’t ever. I guess he finds it more enjoyable to make us do it than doing it himself. I suppose it’s quite an accomplishment to be able to torture someone into cumming.” He said thoughtfully, smiling to himself. I could practically see his own memories of the man flashing before his eyes. I wasn’t about to question the man’s methods, but I felt an odd disappointment, realising that I had been perfectly willing to feel him inside me. Only Smirk had done that so far, after taking my virginity in the private cells the day before yesterday, he took me twice more over the next two days, before the Warden told him to stop because I had my first client coming. It felt strange to think of letting anyone have me the way Smirk could – I knew other clients would want to fuck me, but that was different – it felt almost like a need for it. The only other person who had got me feeling that before today was the Warden.

I rolled onto my side and Smirk spooned up behind me, telling me about his client – some lycra obsessed guy who enjoyed getting fucked by twinks and had taken a liking to Smirks style of doing so. I couldn’t blame him for that and wondered what the full body lycra suit Smirk described would feel like, not doubting that I would eventually find out. Smirk stroked his hands down my side and whispered sweet nothings to me, telling me how well I’d done and saying that I should go to sleep now (which would have been easier if he didn’t keep repeating it). Eventually, I felt myself drift into my dreams, my body aching with a wonderful ache.