Supergay

Caleb ghosted me. I guess it shouldn't be a surprise, him being super religious and me being the guy who proved to him that he was also super gay. Yet he believed

sodomy

, as he put it in his biblical fashion, was a deviant sin, and I'm sure guilt wracked his soul because he'd turned out to be an awesome sodomite. I'd never been so solidly fucked.

After two weeks of silence, I gave up any hope of another hook up with him, so I was pleasantly surprised when I heard my name called as I crossed the quad after one of my evening business classes.

"Jamie!"

I turned and caught my breath. The street lights were bright enough that I could make out his figure as he approached. Even in just jeans and a hoody, zipped up against the cool fall air, he was so hot, like a panther coiled to spring. He radiated energy.

"Caleb. How's it going." I knew to be cool and distant since he wanted to keep me on the down low on campus. He was firmly in the closet, and while I didn't go waving my arms and telling everyone I knew that I was gay, I didn't keep it a secret.

"Can I walk with you?"

"Of course!" I tried to dial down my excitement. "Sure!" With that luscious black hair and sharp blue eyes, there was no way I'd say no. I tried not to pop wood as I remembered looking into them as he penetrated me so deeply and roughly.

At first, he was silent, but sideways glances met my eyes a few times, his cheeks blushing. Okay, this must be about sex. Fantastic! Just give him enough time to say he wants to fuck.

"I...uhm...I shouldn't have done that to you."

"Why not? I loved every second of it." I assumed he was talking about fucking.

"It's just...uhm...this is really difficult, but it's a sin and I want to be punished for it."

Alright, maybe he is too much baggage. "Caleb, you're not a bad person just because you like guys."

"I know, I know. I've no right to ask, but if you could help me out here, inflict the punishment, I wouldn't have to confess to anyone else."

The punishment I'd assign would be to fuck him again, but it was clear he had something specific in mind. "What sort of punishment?" I asked.

He glanced around as if to ensure no one could hear, but the quad was pretty empty as the moon rose over the trees. His voice dropped to a whisper and he kept his eyes straight ahead. "I want you to flog me."

Flog

. Why did this guy sound more like a 12th century monk? His religious upbringing must have been very deep and very fundamentalist. I had to tread carefully here so that I didn't scare him away.

"I can help you with that, but you have to know that you're not a bad person."

He nodded and glanced my way, his cheeks positively blazing. "Thanks, I mean I know, but I need to deal with this somehow. I'd really appreciate it. I'm not asking for sex or anything, just to be flogged for my sins."

The last time we hooked up the plan wasn't for sex either, but it sure as hell changed once he was tied to my bed--at his request. We neared the limit of campus, a stone wall marking the border between the green lawns and the outside world. Once under the arch, our homes were in different directions.

"I'd love to invite you over right now," I said. "But I think Saturday night would be better if you're free. The couple that lives in the apartment upstairs from me is going away for the weekend again, so you could make all the shouts you want without them calling the police."

He stopped under the stone arch to face me, swallowing his shame. "That would be perfect. Is like right after dinner good, say seven?"

"Seven it is. I'll see you Saturday." With that we headed in opposite directions.

* * *

Not masturbating the rest of the week was pure torture with my constant hard on. I'm not really into "flogging" as he called it, and the one time I received it, I discovered that it wasn't as sensuous as I'd fantasized. My partner that day turned out to just really be into inflicting pain, so that was our one and only hook up.

The trick on Saturday was going to be stimulating him enough so that he felt appropriately punished, but wanted more after I'd sensitized his prefect bottom. I came up with a plan and just had to hope it didn't backfire. I'd take on the role of a church elder.

Caleb's eyes went a little wide when I opened my door wearing a crisp white dress shirt with a black tie that matched my black dress pants. If I'd been walking down the street people would've avoided me on the sidewalk so that they wouldn't have to answer about whether they'd been saved.

I turned from the door without a word and went to the living room to sit in my arm chair like a king awaiting a subject at court. Caleb followed me, closing the front door quickly, and stood awkwardly in the center of the living room carpet, clearly unsure of what he was supposed to do. He blushed, adjusted his slightly sideways baseball cap, and finally hooked his thumbs into the belt of his jeans, the bulge in the crotch obvious.

"You're here for redemption?" I finally asked.

He nodded. "Yes. Please. Punish me for my sins." He trembled with excitement. Wow this guy was fucked up.

"Strip."

His eyes went wide again, but he took a frightened breath and gave a short nod.

His t-shirt went up over his head, and I fought to keep the lust from my eyes as I admired awesome abs and light unarm hair. This guy was a nearly hairless twink like me. He shoved his jeans down, allowing the boner to push out against his boxer briefs. He hopped on first one foot and then the other to remove his socks. He stopped with his hands at his side.

"Everything?" he whispered.

I loved the vulnerability, the fear in his eyes that I would do too much, or maybe not enough.

"Everything." I used my hard voice, the one I rarely used except with interns who failed to do a job back when I was still working my engineering job before the lay-offs.

He nodded and bent over, pushing his shorts down to his ankles and stepping out of them. When he stood again, not only his cheeks flamed but his upper chest. His erection pointed up, so painfully hard that I could've hung a wet towel from it and the damn penis wouldn't have budged from its nearly vertical aim.

I stood and walked around him in a slow circle, admiring his youthful glow. Hell, I'm only 31, but his 23-year-old flush made me feel like I was in my 90s. Oh well, just be grateful this young guy wants my attention.

"The basement." I gestured toward the door in the hallway.

"Oh! Okay." His surprise indicated that he thought his punishment would be right here or in my bedroom. As he walked ahead of me, I enjoyed the flexing of his firm, skinny buttocks, but I also wondered what he expected for his "punishment." Did he think I'd just bend him over my knee and spank him like an errant child? He had asked to be flogged, so that was my plan.

His back was to me when he saw the cuffs dangling from a rope. It went through a heavy duty eye hook I had screwed into a beam in the unfinished ceiling of the basement. I'm certain his entire body tensed. He turned to face me with those blue eyes wide, wide open.

"You really are going to flog me," he whispered.

"Hold out your hands." Again, my commanding voice.

He held them out, wrists together, and I put the leather cuffs on him, using the Velcro straps to secure them. The rope passed though the chain that held them together. I admit, I must've blushed like crazy when the clerk rang them up at the sex shop. She was late twenties and hot, and she gave me a wink as she put them in the bag along with my other toy purchases. Suddenly I pictured her naked, her hands high above her head as I prepared to tease her. Okay, I guess I still have a straight side.

I'd tied the far end of the rope around one of those metal columns that hold up the house. I slipped it free and began to slowly pull the rope. His hands rose as the rope passed farther through the eye hook above him. His eyes stayed glued on me, his erection so red it looked like the head might explode. Soon his wrists resisted, his arms stretched as high as they could reach. I pulled some more forcing him up onto his tiptoes. I let the rope slack back through the eye hook, watching carefully until his heels again touched the ground. I stopped there, satisfied that he was comfortably taunt. I tied off the rope around the post. He was secure and ready to be played like a tightly strung instrument.

But I wasn't in a hurry. I picked up a barbecue lighter off the rough work bench and snapped it to flame so that I could light the many tea candles I had placed on the steps of a step ladder near this end of the basement. Now I could shut off the harsh fluorescent lights. I also lit some fat candles that stood alone at the top of waist high candle holders. These usually were on either side of my bed, because I like soft light and the romantic smell, even when I'm just alone masturbating.

I turned back to him, walking in a circle around him, his head turning first one way to watch me out of sight behind him before swinging around as I appeared on his other side. I stopped in front of him, face to face, and pressed my hand to his flat chest, letting it slide down over his stomach toward his erection.

"You've been a naughty boy." I took his cock in my hand, provoking a full body shudder.

His eyes stared down at his erection in my hand, and I sensed that he wanted to thrust back and forth into my grip but held himself back with a force of will. He only nodded his guilt. Time to start the games. I let go of him, stepped to one side, and raised my bare palm to strike.

"One," I said. Smack! Right across his perfect bum. His whole body spasmed, thrusting his dick forward because I'd caught him off guard. This gave me an idea. I took just his cock head in my left hand, not squeezing, just firm. "Two." I smacked harder, causing him to thrust forward along my grip.

"Oh God," he groaned. Whether it was from the pleasure on his penis shaft or the pain on his bare bum I wasn't sure.

My hand was a bit sore from the smack, but I loved the sharp contact with his bare buttock. Time to really open up. "three...four...five..." I went all the way to twenty, each smack harder than the last, changing from one buttock to the other, my hand now squeezing his dick more firmly, his jerks after each shot forcing his cock forward in my grasp. He was giving himself a hand job in my hand with each thrust, the pain always immediately followed by the pleasure of my grip.

"Jamie!" he gasped while I massaged the pain into his buttocks with my right hand while my left hand gently stroked his erection. "I'm going to cum!"

Right. Hair trigger. I let go of him and walked over to the work bench. I turned and studied his naked form, my own bulge painful in the dress slacks. "Time we get down to business then." I undid my black tie and dropped it to the floor. I undid my belt and pulled it out of the loops with I flourish, letting it whip into the air. I didn't need it to hold up my pants. I had another purpose for it.

He nodded with a mixture of fear and awe. "Right. I asked for it." He licked his lips, his eyes focus on my belt, following its swings with anticipation.

I doubled the belt over and slapped it against my palm. "You can stop this any time. Do you remember your safe words."

"I don't need them. You can punish me anyway you want, but yes. I remember that

yellow light

is to slow down and

red light

is to untie me."

"So you also remember that any other protest will be ignored. If you say stop, I'll go. If you say no, it means yes. If you say you can't take it anymore, it means give me more. The only instructions I'll take from you are yellow light and red light."

"Yes." He met my eyes now. "I understand. Just like last time. But I won't use them."

I slapped the belt into my hand again. "We'll see."

This was about as kinky as I'd ever gotten, and I don't like playing the criminal torturing the unwilling victim, but I knew it was essential for him to pretend he was a prisoner, that his conscience would be clear. It wasn't that he was gay that all this was happening to him. It was that I'd taken him prisoner and was going to do all kinds of gay stuff to him. A win-win since I wanted to tap his ass. He may not want to admit it, but he's supergay.

His bottom was red just from my hand spanking. There were actually a couple of hand prints, which taught me that I must've been spanking harder than I thought. Noted. No wonder my right palm still stung.

I teased him with the belt, pressing it to his chest, letting it slide down until I caught up his erection with the loop, drawing it up to the tip.

"Oh my god," he whispered. "I can't help it. I'm so close."

This guy definitely needed to stroke himself a lot, wear down that sensitivity. Did he avoid masturbating too because that was also a "sin" in his world?

"Don't you dare cum." The belt whistle in the air just before it struck his bottom.

"Oh damn!" he shouted, his whole body spasming forward. "Oh god." He took several gasping breaths. "I wanted to be flogged." He sounded more like he was talking to himself. He pushed his bum back, leaning on his tied wrists, clearly eager for another shot.

His dick needed a squeeze. I didn't dare stroke it, just a quick grab to alternate the pleasure and pain.

"Oh! Oh no!"

"Don't!" I swung the belt, smacking him hard again, interrupting a possible orgasm.

"Wow! Oh, damn!" His shout somehow pleased me, his deep breathing, his chest heaving making him even more attractive. Sweat glistened on his skin. I'd been careful to turn the heat high long before he got here so that he wouldn't be cold while naked.

It was tempting to grab his dick again, but now he might climax too soon. I'd been using the belt doubled over, but now it was time to let it hang free. I swung it back and forth a few times, letting him see his immediate future, stepping back to give me room. I swung it hard at his buttocks and it landed with a smack.

"Fuck!" He lurched forward with the shock, as if trying to push his cock into an invisible pussy but held back by his bonds.

I rubbed his buttocks, checking for marks.

"Oh my god," he whispered, pushing back with his bum against my hand as if it soothed. "Oh my god."

There was a welt across his bum. That was too much. I didn't want to leave marks that lasted past our evening. This would take a day or two to go away, and it would be difficult for him to explain to a roommate or gym buddy.

I headed for the work bench and the toys. Time to change things up.

The little anal plug had caused me the most embarrassment when that hot clerk was ringing them up. She knew that this was for me or a lover, and she gave me a speculative glance as she scanned the bar code.

I snapped open the lube and spread it liberally, keeping my back to him so that he couldn't see what I had planned. Turning, I held it head high, like a religious object in a ceremony. I strode forward like a priest, slow measured steps.

"Oh no," he whispered. "You're not going to put that into me, are you?" He wide, blue eyes stayed glued to the butt plug as I approached, and the anticipation was obvious. He wanted to protest, but he also wanted to be fucked.

"You must learn to associate sodomy with your punishment, so that you won't desire it." I used the church elder voice. "You must be conditioned to hate sodomy. It is your only path to redemption." I wasn't raised particularly religious, so I could only hope I wasn't going over the top with the religious speak.

He nodded. I swear he licked his lips. "Please be gentle, sir."

Okay, calling me 'sir' made me feel old and pissed me off, and my bet is that he didn't actually want me to be gentle if our last adventure was any proof. We were in a topsy turvy world where he was going to say the opposite of what he wanted. At least I hoped I was right about that, and I was glad I insisted he repeat the safe words before we got to this evening's heavy entertainment. I wanted everything to be consensual, even though he was in total denial.

I got behind him and kicked his legs apart, which forced him to go on tip toes because the rope that held his wrists had so little give. His beautiful butt shone red in the candlelight, and I rubbed the butt plug back and forth in the crack, lubricating his rosebud. He took a very deep breath, bracing himself for the invasion.

Despite suspecting he wanted it rough, I pressed gently, working it in and out, preparing him, widening him. I considered using fingers first, but I decided he wanted it to be a punishment. I made sure I had it lined up, then I pressed slowly firmly, inexorably until he gasped and struggled.

"Oh, please! Sir! Not all the way!" he shouted, his head thrown back, his eyes going to his bound wrists.

I almost stopped but decided we really were in backwards land. He wanted it all the way in, but his homophobic religion made him more comfortable with pretending he didn't want to be fucked.

The wide part popped through his anus and his body sucked it in, the wide handle preventing it from going any deeper.

"Oh my god, oh my god," he whispered over and over.

I pressed the button.

"What! Oh my god it's vibrating! It's a vibrator!" His legs trembled with the strain of being on his tip toes, so I stepped back to allow him to bring them together, his heals again flat on the ground. Closing his legs together would only make him feel the vibrator my intensely. I'd tried it myself last night, and it was intense and wonderful and it took all my will power not to jack off with it inside me.

He writhed, he trembled, he strained against the bonds that held his wrists so high. I was tempted to pull out my phone and record this perfect beauty, his passion, but we had agreed no recordings last time, and I didn't blame him. Letting someone record you naked is giving them a huge amount of power, especially for a guy in the closet.

Time for the flogger. It was also on the bench, and when I turned and held it up, he gasped. It had many tails of soft material, like a cat-of-nine-tails but not with the savagery of hard rope. This toy was designed to look mean, but its bite would be far less than it looked.

"It is time for you to equate sodomy with true pain, not pleasure." I again used my church elder voice. I got behind him and gave him a good smack on his red buttocks with it.

The yelp of pain and the jerk away from the flogger was too real. I'd misjudged the tenderness of his already sore gluts.

"Oh god," he groaned, heaving with breath. "I don't know how many more of those I can take. That really hurt."

"You will take as many as I judge necessary." But the next one I waved at his butt was barely a tap with the cat. It still made him lunge away and yelp in pain, but it was a little forced because it didn't hurt as much. He was more roleplaying that time.

The tender gluts could not be in play for the rest of the evening. My belt had made them too sensitive. I swung the cat hard, aiming for his back just beneath his shoulder blades.

"Oh fuck!" he shouted. He didn't swear much, so it was a genuine curse, but it wasn't the same level as the scream when the cat kissed his buttocks, so I knew I could keep this up. It gave it to him for a few minutes, him shouting and cursing, twisting as if he could turn away for the blows.

When his shouts started to change to screams, I decided we'd both had enough. I'd flogged him as he asked, and I'd made sure it felt real, but I didn't want to hurt him. I did, however, want to fuck him.

The vibrator still buzzed inside him, so I turned it off and pulled it down.

"Oh my god!" he whispered, followed by a groan as I pulled down on the handle, forcing his body to push it out. "Oh dude. That thing, that thing..." His head sagged forward. "Wow. I almost came hands free."