The Augusta Train Trip, Chapter 4

Billy and I took a cab to my Third Avenue apartment. He seemed all but overwhelmed by the high-rise buildings, and so I assumed he was experiencing “The Big City Syndrome”. But when I mentioned that possibility to him, he laughed, and said, “I don’t know if you noticed, but Augusta is no hick town.”

I had to agree. So I shifted gears and began telling Billy as much as I could about points of interest that we happened by them on our way to my apartment building.

The door man helped us get our luggage to the elevator for our ride to the fifth floor, and so it was only moments later that we were in my apartment. I wasted no time, and so as soon as my apartment door closed I took Billy in a hug and kissed him. He held me tight to his body, and then made me promise that I wouldn’t reject nor abandon him in New York, and that I would keep loving him no matter how messed up he was. All of that surprised me, so I said, “I don’t think you know what love means to me. I could never reject nor abandon you, so that’s something you don’t need to even think about.”

He pulled back from me and looked in my eyes as he said, “Yea but I’m more messed up than I let on.”

I kept my eyes focused on his as I said, “Well you aren’t too messed up for me.”

“Yea, but I told you that we would probably only have to play the rape game that one time. But I liked it, Max. It actually freed me to feel and enjoy things that I haven’t been able to feel or enjoy ever before.”

While taking some joy in Billy’s words, I said, “Well, that’s okay, isn’t it? That’s why we played that game.”

“Yea, but I want to play it again, Max. And I might want to keep playing it, especially at enema time. I know I could enjoy my enemas a whole lot more if I didn’t feel so guilty for the pleasure they bring me.”

Without thinking, I said, “So what you’re saying, is that you always want me to be in control when it comes to anything sexual so you never have to feel any guilt?”

Billy got a very serious look on his face as he said, “When you say it like that, it doesn’t seem like I’m being very fair to you. I’m sorry, and I’m sorry I’m so messed up that I need you to shoulder all of the guilt I feel when it comes to sex.”

“No, Billy, I didn’t mean it that way. The thing is, I love you. And if playing a rape game is what it takes to make sex and love work for you, then I’m happy to play that game with you for as long as you want.”

Billy leaped into my arms and kissed me. And he kept kissing me until he turned my head so he could whisper in my ear, “Does that mean that you might even spank my naked butt again if I don’t obey your every word?”

…

So that was the beginning of our New York relationship. And beginning that evening Billy changed the “Rape Game” that had freed him from sexual guilt into a new game where he identified himself as being my indentured sex-slave and houseboy so we could both enjoy sex to the fullest without him having to deal with the guilt that his Baptist pastor father had bestowed on him. And to make this new game work in Billy’s mind, he had me dismiss my maid so he would have plenty to do.

Letting my maid go also allowed Billy to go naked while he did his chores, something that lasted only three days as that was when I took Billy to a special leather shop that was only known to the gay underworld. Once there I had Billy measured so they could make an all leather custom jockstrap that I insisted Billy wear while doing his chores. That leather jockstrap instantly became Billy’s favorite thing to wear. He wore it and only it anytime he was in the apartment, whether I was there or not. And he often wore it under his trousers when he had to leave our apartment to shop, go to the cleaners, or perform other houseboy chores. I also have to say that I loved that jockstrap as it accentuated and showed off the sexy curves of Bill’s butt cheeks as he went about his choirs.

But as it turned out, even that wasn’t enough for Billy, because he began to purposefully screws up some part of his houseboy assignments almost every day so I would have a reason to spank his cute little boy fanny, something he seemed to particularly enjoy at enema time.

I can’t deny that I loved spanking Bill’s ass, especially when he was holding an enema. And I particularly loved fucking his freshly spanked bottom after he expelled his enemas. All of that worked well for us both. But then some months later, without the need to discuss this with Billy, I realized that he needed even more release from his sexual guilt, which meant that I had to take even more control of him. So without him knowing it I went back to that special leather shop, and had them make another custom leather jockstrap that I would make Billy wear when he had been particularly naughty. Instead of that jockstrap having two normal butt cheek straps to hold its soft leather cock pouch in place, it had a single strap that passed through Billy’s anal cleavage, as well as through a loop on a butt plug that came with the jockstrap. And then that single strap would be locked to the waist strap in the back, taking all control from Billy, as well as releasing him from any guilt he might feel from the joy he experienced from having a sizable butt plug fully inserted in his rectum during his punishment time, which was often all the time I was away at my office.

As it turned out, that second jockstrap helped Billy avoid his sexual guilt even more than I thought it would. It also made Billy’s bare bottom spankings more erotic for us both as they could then be delivered to Billy’s bare bottom while his butt plug was being securely held in place, something that caused his spankings to become rectally stimulating, which in turned brought Billy even more sexual pleasure that he didn’t have to feel guilty for.

I know all of that to be true as Billy became even less inhibited and more desirous of being rectally fucked than ever before. And I know that was true, not only because Billy told me so, but because on the occasions I made Billy wear that jockstrap, once I withdrew his butt plug and replaced it with my cock, his rectal muscles always seemed to be so keyed up that they could actually milk every last drop of sperm from my cock without me even having to hardly move.

All I can say, is that the one part of our lives Billy never screws up, is sex. And so after all of these years (22) he is still a perfect fuck, especially when I force him to feel the carnal feelings I knew he would crave the instant I first laid eyes on him at Augusta’s Union Train Station.

***The End ***