Mark 12 - coming home ?

As boy began the virtual return journey on the rowing machine he thought about the issues to which he had faced up in coming this far out with Mark - being gay, being a sub male, sharing the thought of being emasculated, even the thought of living as a eunuch slave.

Here he was with a man who had been a complete stranger just a short time before – offering him training, listening, experience, opportunities to explore who he was and who or what he might become.

‘Can I trust Mark,’ he wondered, rowing on steadily, ‘Mark who seems a nice guy but who presumably lives the same life of deception that uncle must have been living for years ?’

Thinking of uncle made him realise that, whatever he did about Mark, he certainly had to face the question of what to do about uncle. Wherever he ‘landed’ uncle had to be handled – uncle now knew that he knew about him but how much would uncle have guessed about boy ?

Then there were other questions buzzing round in his mind:

‘Am I going to lose my balls ?’

‘Will it be my choice or someone else’s ?’

‘What are my limits and would someone else respect them once I was under their control ?’

‘RISK’, loomed large in boy’s mind, ‘have I reached the point where I am ready for my body to become a valueless slave, just a sex toy of sadistic Master, with every humiliation, degradation and punishment, a welcome reinforcement of its sheer inadequacy.’

‘PAIN,’ came into boy’s mind, ‘one reason why I got interested in all this was because I found pain hard and being scared before other males humiliating – I reckoned that if I could be trained to expand my limits – trained by a skilled Master, a caring Master – then I could begin to face other men.’

‘Should he say that to Mark,’ boy wondered realising that exploring his desire to have his cords crushed or his balls cut out and his thoughts about living as a eunuch were principally about letting other men marvel at his willingness to go through castration – to have the evidence clear before them.’

And being completely smoothed would do that in ‘spades’.

But there was a difference between self-centred sadist and a caring Master, between night or more of pain and then being discarded and a disciplined life of slavery in a caring relationship.

‘Risk and pain,’ he thought, ‘would be different in each case – and what of injury, infection and the chance of being left incapacitated.’

It wasn’t being impotent that worried boy, he’d long since faced up to that, but other forms of incapacity and the poverty of money and of love in which he feared being left to live.

Finding and staying with a good Master was so important, seemed so hard to work towards - and yet here was Mark, who did not fit his imagined stereotype of a Master, offering him training – and they hadn’t discussed what sort of training.

The calorie counter had reached 300 – half way back – and boy’s imagination looked towards the bank:

First to Mark’s boathouse: where ‘I’ll be waiting when you come rowing back, waiting in case you want to make this your landfall, waiting to offer you some further training, a listening ear, possibly some experience, certainly opportunities for you to explore who you are and who you might become, boy."

Then to the heavily modified slave – ‘Way beyond family tolerance levels !’ boy had reckoned, ‘even more than uncle – hairless, not even got eyebrows or eyelashes, its groin long since been tidied of its balls and sac leaving but the stub of a slave cock ‘.

"A generous Master," Mark had suggested, "or may be just a convenience for peeing – little more purpose now for a eunuch slave like it is."

The thought of its fine tribal tattoos, bold, sweeping ones, that embraced its body from the neck to its calves, from its elbows up around its back and round to its nipples made boy reckon that its Master was generous but determined and the slave fully committed to its MASTER.

That full commitment attracted boy. He thought of the little ring through one nipple and the slave with good sized steel through its MASTER’s slave septum and HIS slave nipples. he liked the idea but also the feeling that the MASTER shared in commitment.

The whipping, with its thanks and its begging for more, smacked of a good sado-masochistic combination with each delighted by the other’s patience and persistence.

The two hairy guys on the bank, one standing in his leather, with the slim, naked guy kneeling to give his Master’s cock a good suck – reminded boy of SM club nights, of the possibility of dabbling, having some leather and some rubber, but confining his interest to special occasions, not getting in too deep.

Such promiscuity had superficial attractions – it seemed safer in one way and yet boy knew enough about sexually transmitted diseases to be worried about it in the longer term and it seemed unsatisfactory from the point of view of developing a mutual relationship.

‘And all this is just my imagination,’ boy recalled, ‘with a little stimulation from Mark.’

Then there was his family, and the expectations that boy would be conventional, get married and father his parents’ grandchildren. ‘Well,’ boy calculated, ‘uncle has coped and he had managed to avoid close family scrutiny until that very morning !’

In his mind boy saw uncle with his 4mm CBR septum ring and the tribal band tattooed right round his well shaved upper right arm.

The boy started stripping uncle down – off came the sleeveless denim jacket and the capped T shirt revealing two good sized rings hanging through sizeable nipples on his shaved chest.

As the cut off jeans and jock strap were taken down uncle’s freshly shaved legs, boy could imagine the tribal tattoo that circled uncle’s waist and he recalled uncle’s circumcised cock head with its thick steel ring and a large steel ball.

‘Could uncle still have his balls ?’ boy mused, ‘or is that pierced cock all that’s left of his side of the family’s jewels ?’

Somehow uncle had managed to keep his piercings to himself – ‘what sort of septum retainer ?’ boy wondered being practical, ‘and what about his nipple rings and business ? Or all that steel work and airport metal detectors ?’

There were the soberly suited interviewing panel and members of his gym, mentally or actually seeing Mark’s nipple ring and being shocked or maybe not…

‘What would his old school chums reckon, how many of them would envy his freedom, want to follow in his footsteps, long to place their waiting cocks in his slave mouth…’

That circumcising doctor, whom boy could hardly recall though he had been at school with his son, had indeed been, as Mark suggested, "the last man to modify you before you had your nipple pierced". Now boy wondered who would be the third person to modify his body and what would be done next.

Mark had said that he would be waiting at the boathouse… "waiting in case you want to make this your landfall, waiting to offer you some further training, a listening ear, possibly some experience, certainly opportunities for you to explore who you are and who you might become."

The calorie counter was at 388, Mark was coming over to check on progress….