Julian – The Wages of Sin – Chapter 7

Professional sadist Anthony Martin continues to enjoy whipping, slapping and groping the naked flesh of a Brazilian bodybuilder sentenced to torture for sex crimes.

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“Let me go!” the teenaged twink begs, his naked body stretched between the ceiling and the floor. The boy’s master, Anthony Martin, mauls his twink body and fingers his pink asshole. “Please, I hafta go home!” the boy begs again. “Shut-up,” Anthony replies, shoving a ball-gag into his boy’s mouth. He pulls Matthew’s head back by his hair, arching his lean pysique, then flogs him brutally, up and down his body. Young Matthew is learning an important lesson: the only fantasies that matter are those of the man with the whip. And this whip-master fantasizes about one thing: making young pretty-boys suffer, covering their hairless bodies with welts and fucking their tight, virginal assholes. Matthew cries out and gasps in pain, his whole body trembling. He’s not going anywhere.

Ballet boy Nigel is giving the performance of a lifetime. He is stripped naked, standing on two boxes about a foot high, his wrists chained to the ceiling. “Why are you doing this?” he asks when Anthony Martin enters, dressed in high leather boots, a harness and a leather codpiece that advertises the massiveness of his cock. “Keep that mouth shut!” Anthony barks back, covering the boy’s mouth, whipping him, then placing a metal pole with a massive dildo mounted to it under his ass. As a dancer, Nigel is shaved smooth down to his ankles, with not even a hint of hair on his armpits or around his cock. Nigel’s dancer-butt trembles as Anthony positions the tip of the dildo into his asshole, then pulls the boxes apart, making Nigel fuck himself. Soon the beautiful boy is moaning in pain as the 11-inch dildo slides all the way up his ass and Anthony flogs his smooth, firm body then sprays the wounds with alcohol. In the end, Nigel hangs limp, impaled and covered with welts.

You hear the story all the time, but everyone dismisses it as an urban legend:  A young college boy, in river towns like Minneapolis, leaves a party and disappears into thin air.  Rumors fly that he was kidnapped and sold into slavery — or worse. Don’t be ridiculous, the authorities insist, he must have slipped into the river and his body was swept away.  But, guess what?  The rumors are true:  There is a reason these missing young men are always 18 to 25 and very good looking — because that’s the way we like them!  Garbriel Cruz is such a boy,  a well-built, 21-year-old college student who left a party drunk and walked home alone, along the river.  But he didn’t fall off a rock into a swift current or jump off a bridge; he was grabbed and thrown into a van, stripped of his T-shirt and shoes, blindfolded and bound.  He is now hanging in a dark, concrete room, pants around his knees. “What are you going to do to me?” he asks, tears in his eyes.  His captor, Garret Stone, is a muscular, unsmiling young man, nearly naked but for some leather gear.  And he has a whip.  

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Nineteen-year-old Matthew Connor was a virgin when he came to Anthony Martin’s dungeon.  He had kissed a boy and sucked a few cocks, but his boy-hole had not been touched.  Not anymore.  On his first day as Anthony’s slave, his asshole was pounded by his young master’s massive, erect cock.  And now he is being fucked by a machine with a huge dildo mounted to a steel-pole.  The device is like a jack-hammer, fucking the poor boy constantly for 20 minutes.  Anthony sits back and laughs, slapping his victim’s ass as it’s pummeled.  Matthew moans and rocks as he’s fucked, his eyes rolling back into his head.  Anthony finally turns the thing off but leaves the dildo rammed up the boy’s ass, then leaves him to suffer alone, a true fuck-slave who exists for one purpose:  pleasing a sadist with a taste for beautiful boys.

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Last week Nigel was “living his best life,” doing ballet and making friend in his new city.  Now everything has changed:  He’s been brutally whipped and tortured, forced to suck a huge cock, brutally fucked repeatedly, covered with cum and jerked-off – all while in pain, his limber body stretched to its limits.  Today he is bound, face-up, on a small table, completely naked and gagged, his dancer’s body covered with welts from previous whippings.  He’s lost track of time:  He knows he’s been fed several times and allowed to evacuate his bowels and sleep here and there, but every day is a blur of pain, humiliation and sex.  He’s left alone, bound and helpless, for hours.  Then Anthony returns and beats him with a crop then slices his creamy, lean stomach and chest with the single-tail whip.  “I want you always hard, boy!” Anthony announces, attaching the vacuum pump to his cock once again.  

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Matthew’s eyes roll back into his head as the agony of having clusters of clothespins bite into the most sensitive parts of his body continues, but his master, Anthony Martin, could not possibly care less.  He strokes his teenage slave’s smooth body and beautiful cock, loving the feeling of pain emanating from his trembling body.  Suddenly, Anthony yanks off each pin – a whole new level of pain for his young slave. “Let’s see if this cock still works,” Anthony sneers, stroking and sucking Matthew’s wounded dick and body.   Sure enough, despite the fear, humiliation and pain – or because of it – Matthew gets rock-hard.  Anthony keeps his slave erect, on the verge of cumming, for an hour, then finally lets him erupt.  And, boy, does he cum – rope after rope of jizz spews from his cock.  Anthony makes his slave say “thank-you” before leaving him to struggle alone, bolted to the X-cross, naked, in the cold, lonely dungeon.

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Bondage boy gags on his daddy’s huge, erect cock after being bolted naked to a fuck bench and brutally flogged. That’s how you make daddy happy!

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After having his back and ass shredded by two bullwhips, Michael is forced to lay his fresh wounds on a small bondage table covered with a coarse carpet. The boy looks great, spread out naked, legs bent at the knees, arms stretched overhead, his back arching seductively. “How’s your back feeling, boy,” Jared sneers, pushing down on Michael’s torso, forcing his back and ass to rub against the coarse fabric. Michael screams, then sees the bullwhip in Jared’s hands. “Oh God,” he mutters to himself. “He is going to whip my chest and stomach!” Jared slices Michael’s skin from his nipples to his crotch, crisscrossing his torso with deep, red stripes, hitting several spots multiple times, widening the welts. Jared then mists the fresh wounds with alcohol, sending Michael into spasms of agony, before whipping him again. Despite it all, Michael pumps out another huge load of cum on command.

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