Sex Story of the Week : "Rope that Binds" PART 1

I was disciplined and whipped for as long as I can remember. These whipping were often severe and administered almost always upon my naked body. The instruments used in my discipline changed with my physical growth, as did the places on my body where I was punished with a severity that left orderly bruises and marks. I was whipped by men who knew the male body by experience and understood how to make a man feel pain as only a male can endure and accept it.

These men helped me through puberty into a young adult, an admitted cocksucker with an unusually large cock. I knew I would never be too old to strip and take discipline and punishment from my dad or specific uncles. It was my father's right to punish me in whatever manner he thought best for my well-being. He was always fair, understanding, and sensitive to my needs as a growing boy and, later man. He took care that I understood what was right and wrong, and what the punishment would be should I not do the right thing. He knew I was growing into a cocksucker, but never let on that my being queer bothered him. My homosexuality was never an issue for punishment. As a queer I was expected to continue being naked in the presence of other naked men in the family and act as if nothing were unusual. I accept myself as a cocksucker and love my attraction to men. My use of queer to indicate homosexual is only an example of my appreciation of a faggot's background. At one time we were all called queer and beaten up on a regular basis. That is the case now with many cocksuckers. Queer is an important word in my heritage. I am proud to be a queer.

The males in my family were very sexually conscious. Nudity was common even with female relatives present. Only my father and I were naked in the presence of my mother. She was always well dressed but perfectly at ease with "my men," as she called my dad and me, wearing nothing. She enjoyed beautiful things, including her naked husband and son.

There was no list of rules and the penalties for breaking them, but the seriousness of any particular act was clear. If I were to miss curfew while messing around with my school friends when I should have been back home, I would be grounded. I would feel the whip for more serious deeds.

I was often with other family members during numerous trips of my father on business matters. An uncle and his son were frequent companions to me. Both whipped me when they thought it appropriate. My cousin had to know I was getting off on the pain because I always had a hardon during whippings. I was usually naked during my punishment. My erect cock took up a lot of space right there in front of my crotch, God and ever body.

"Is that a hard dick?" he shouted at me about the same time he took hold of my cock. "Yes, sir!" I barked back. I had always responded in such a matter to every older male in our family. My cousin told me to put my hands together behind my back and prepare to be punished. I thought "Jez! I am already being punished!"

He firmly held my erect cock in his left hand and used a small leather strap on my balls until I was making more noise than I usually did under severe whipping. He seemed to like my reaction and made me hurt more on the inside of my thighs. "Does the cocksucker need to cum!" he barked. I replied, "Yes Sir!" and he started moving his hand up and down my dick. He was using the leather strap on my shoulders and holding onto me in a weird manner while jerking me off and whipping on my back at the time. I shot my load into his hand and dropped to my knees to eat it. He held his hand carefully at my mouth during this cleaning chore. I was very turned on sexually by the entire encounter with my cousin. I did not want it to end. It did.

Rope came into my life shortly after my cousin whipped me for having a hardon. The two events had nothing to do with each other. My dad returned and commented that he noticed in my report book that my cousin had whipped me a couple of times. The scary detail was my cousin's report mentioned that he had caused me to shoot my load into his hand while he whipped my back.

"Did you enjoy this?" my dad asked. I replied that I did not think so and thought of it as a punishment. I was given a short lecture on being a man who enjoyed male activities and a queer male who enjoyed other activities. "Your uncle will be helping you with your posture and will discuss masculine pleasure for all men no matter what turns a man on sexually." I nodded as I sharply rattled off my "Sir, yes Sir!" Dad acknowledged my gesture and words of respect. We were almost military at times.

My uncle carefully tied my arms behind me the following day after morning lessons. It was actually what I would later know as bondage of the upper arms. I was in a position as if held prisoner, a captive unable to move his body or use his hands. "You are not to think of your arms being bound behind you as sexual. This may be difficult for you at first. " He was right about that! I had an instant hardon the moment I felt the rope begin to restrain me. This sexual reaction did not last too long because I found the ropes irritating. I could not move my arms to so much as scratch my crotch or nose. It was inconvenient. It felt good. I was a male tied by a male and made helpless.

M.K.

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