The One-Way Voyage (Day 120) by SteveShirey
Join us on Day 120 of 'The One-Way Voyage' — an enthralling gay erotic sex story filled with passion, desire, and unexpected twists. Discover the intimate journey of love and exploration that will captivate your senses and ignite your imagination. Dive into this sensual adventure today!<br/>
DAY ONE HUNDRED TWENTY
Sultry Sunset
That was a magical night.
The following morning, Master strung me up in the training room and lashed my back twelve times. It was my punishment for looking in his wallet.
Each blow of the whip was pure joy. Master was correcting me because Master cared. I held his full attention. There was no one else aboard, no one to distract Master or take him away from me. He wore cargo shorts, but I could see him getting harder with each blow of the whip. I took deep breaths against the stinging pain and reveled in the fact that I was giving my Master such pleasure.
Afterward, he chained me into the sling, dropped his pants, and fucked me roughly, grabbing my throat with both hands to hold me in place as his hips banged against my ass with loud slaps.
A few times he stopped to stroke the dragon, which raised its head high, but I didn’t come. Master had jerked me off three times the night before and I just didn’t have it in me. My dick had gotten raw from all that rubbing.
I still loved looking up at Master while he fucked me. His pecs and abs were not so well developed as Suresh’s–I decided maybe I was going to miss Suresh a little after all–but the dark hair on his chest and arms and the thin black trail that began at his navel and ran straight to his dick were so hot they made me melt. His more mature facial features conveyed character, and when he looked at me, I could see the intensity in his eyes, a gaze that told me Master had fucked a lot of men, but I was the one he desired.
He plunged his dick into me one final time and roared like a beast as he came. Afterward, he rubbed his hands over my chest and belly for a while and played with the dragon before releasing me and popping in a plug. He took me topside and chained my balls to the aft deck while he spent the morning in the cockpit.
I felt great. I lay on the deck and sunned myself, thinking my prayers had been answered. Everything was back to how it had been on the outward voyage. That was all I had wanted.
We worked out together in the afternoon, but when night came, Master took me not to his own bed, but to my room. He saw the expression on my face and said, “Suresh’s orders. I’m not supposed to sleep with my slave.”
I was disappointed, even though my dick and ass needed the rest.
As the days passed, it became increasingly apparent that things were not going back to how they had been after all. Master fucked me most days, but he seldom whipped me. I tried extra hard to do my chores exactly the way he wanted. I unpacked the sails deftly every morning and coiled those sheets with mathematical precision.
Master didn’t seem to notice.
I tried the opposite approach and became disobedient. The most I got was halfhearted slaps on the ass.
He never let me sleep in his bed. Not a single night.
At first I didn’t understand, but eventually I realized the truth. Every day the wind in Mariposa’s sails brought us a few miles closer to San Francisco, but only one of us would be stepping ashore. For me, this had always been a one-way voyage. I understood that now. Master was returning to his home, but I was not. Master was mentally preparing himself by pushing me away, disengaging emotionally, readying himself for the day he would heave me into the ocean and eliminate the problem I represented.
Today was a little different. He fucked me on the bench this morning, then stuck a really big glass plug up my butt, a plug so fat it made me yelp going in, and I was well used to getting things shoved up my ass by now. After lunch, he pulled out the plug and made me run laps, with the shock box wired to my balls and the juice turned up to maximum. As usual, I only managed about ten laps before the machine came on. It felt like a knife to my balls. The pain made me double over, although I managed to stay on my feet.
Master watched, entertained by the show. “Better keep running,” he suggested. “It isn’t going to get any easier.”
I finished the last two laps, more in a quick walk than a run. Even after Master switched off the shock box and removed the electrodes, my balls still ached.
Master stroked them. “Poor baby. Does this feel better?”
In fact it did. I could barely stand, so Master helped me to the couch on the aft deck and we sat. He kept one arm around my shoulders and cupped my scrotum in his other hand, gently massaging the dragon’s belly. Master hadn’t jerked me off that morning, so I got a hard-on, but he ignored it.
Master put his other hand on my head and gently drew me toward him until it was resting on his shoulder. Together we watched the sun set. After a while, Master moved his hand from my balls to my dick. He ran his fingertips delicately around the dragon’s head and neck until I was throbbing.
“I envy you.”
I lifted my head. “Master?”
“You get hard so easily.”
I wondered what he meant by that. Any guy gets hard when someone rubs his dick, right? I gave him a puzzled look.
“It’s not so easy for me,” he explained.
“Excuse me, Master, but my sore asshole says otherwise.”
He laughed at that. “Your asshole wouldn’t know. I don’t have any trouble getting hard for my slave. It’s when I try to have sex with some other guy that I have the problem.”
I didn’t know what to say. I rested my head on Master’s shoulder again. He stroked my upper arm with one hand. The other moved north from the dragon and rubbed my belly. I let out a satisfied little sigh.
“It’s so easy to make you happy. But in all honesty, I can’t get it up for just anyone. I can’t walk into another guy’s bedroom and fuck him. Not like a normal person. My eyes dart around the room while I ask myself, ‘Where’s the hidden camera that’s recording this?’ If I don’t find one, that only means it was concealed too cleverly for me to spot.”
Master didn’t seem to be talking to me anymore, so I kept my mouth shut.
“If I invite a guy to my bedroom, he’s going to get a good look at the inside of my house. When he gets naked, I look at the pile of clothes at the foot of my bed and I think, ‘While I’m sleeping, he’ll slip those back on and leave with my wallet.’ Or I’ll think, ‘What if he smashes a lamp over my head and robs me?’ If he does neither of those things and we enjoy a night of romantic ecstasy, he still knows the layout of my house. What’s to stop him from sneaking back later when I’m away, breaking a window, and ransacking the place? Or maybe he’ll take the easy route and simply blackmail me. These are thoughts that can crinkle your cock in a split second, no matter how hot the guy is.”
I found myself in the strange position of pitying him. “Poor Master,” I murmured.
“One night, after failing to get it up yet again, I looked at the hot guy in my bed and the pile of clothes on the floor, and I thought, ‘What if I took his clothes away from him? What if I chained him to the bed so he couldn’t leave?’ I got hard just thinking about it.” Now his hand moved down to my crotch, and he began softly stroking my balls again. “That’s when I began taking slaves. Just for a weekend at first. I learned that just as I can’t enjoy fucking unless I’m dominating my partner, there are many young men so beaten down by some authority figure in their lives that they can’t enjoy fucking unless someone else dominates them.”