He Was Looking for a Gay Sadist and Found More Than He Asked For

When Iván entered the bedroom, Damián already had the arsenal laid out on top of the dresser. It was the first time the guy had ever come up to that house, and the first time for other things he still didn’t know how to name. Damián looked him up and down and nodded toward the bed with his chin.

—On all fours. I want a close look at that ass you promised me on chat.

Iván obeyed without answering. The lamplight fell obliquely across his back and outlined each vertebra one by one. Damián picked up a short leather cat-o’-nine, one of the discreet ones, and started with measured blows on the buttocks. Testing him. He wanted to know what kind of boy he’d gotten involved with this time.

Iván didn’t move a muscle.

—Look at you —Damián murmured—. You look like granite.

He dropped the cat-o’-nine and picked up something else. A rigid leather paddle with metal studs embedded in the striking face. Something serious. Something few asked for twice.

—Now you’re going to feel the difference, faggot —he said, and crossed his ass with two dry paddle strikes.

—Fuck, fuck, Christ!

—At last I’m getting some noise out of that little body —Damián laughed—. I was starting to get bored.

—That hurt —Iván panted without lifting his head from the sheet—. But don’t stop. Don’t leave me with just two slaps. That paddle with the spikes… I hadn’t imagined anything like that. That’s what hurts. That’s what I came looking for.

—Then you’re going to get so many that in three days you’ll still be sleeping on your stomach.

—I don’t mind. Hit me hard.

Damián let himself go. The boy had asked permission for him to lose his mind, and he wasn’t the kind to leave an invitation like that unanswered. He tore off his T-shirt and shorts in a couple of sharp yanks. When he raised the paddle again, Iván’s hips were higher, his ass stuck up like an offering. His face, turned into the sheet, showed his mouth half open and his eyes lost somewhere outside the room.

The paddle went back and forth. One. Two. Five. Ten. Each impact cracked like a gunshot against the wall, and the studs left a double mark on the heated skin. Damián stopped for a moment, looked at the pattern, and came back in again.

—You’re different —he said at last, breathing hard—. Plenty of boys have come through my hands, and none like you. Now you’re going to suck me off. On the floor, on your knees. I’ll sit on the edge.

Iván slid down onto the parquet without fully straightening up. When he lifted his gaze, he fell silent for a couple of seconds.

—What’s that?

—A cock, kid. You’ve never seen a cock?

—In real life, this hard, no. And, excuse me, that isn’t a normal cock. That’s a monster.

Damián let out a low, rough, satisfied laugh.

—Well, that monster’s going all the way in. First in your mouth. I’m going to fuck your throat even if you choke, even if the tears bother you, even if you think you can’t take it. And then I’m going to put that same cock in your ass. Tomorrow, besides your cheeks, your hole’s going to hurt. Because I’m going to tear you open, faggot. I’m going to blow it apart.

—That’s what I came for. Literally. I told you so on chat: real pain.

—You amaze me, kid. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.

Iván had seen enough videos to know how it starts. He parted his teeth with his lips, flattened his tongue, and opened as wide as he could. But it didn’t last long. Damián grabbed his head by the nape, dug his fingers in behind his ears, and pushed until only the balls were left outside. Iván felt the pressure deep in his throat, the gagging, the tears slipping out without permission. He didn’t resist. He didn’t pull back. He waited. Damián pulled out, gave him two seconds of air, and shoved it back in again.

Saliva dripped from the corners of the boy’s mouth down to his chest. Damián hauled him up by the hair and crossed his face with two slaps that sounded in the room like a pair of claps.

—Fuck, it feels good to hit you.

—That’s what I came for. Don’t let anything stop you.

Damián stepped back for a moment and took from the drawer a pair of adjustable screw nipple clamps. He put them on calmly, right one first, then left. He started tightening them while looking into his eyes. Iván held the gaze without blinking. Damián kept tightening. One turn. Another. Another. When the screw would go no farther, he heard the first word that wasn’t a challenge.

—Ow. Now, yes.

—That’s exactly where I wanted you.

He took a short riding crop from the dresser and motioned to the boy.

—Stand up. You’re going to turn slowly. I’m going to hit you wherever I feel like. Arms up, so I can catch the chain on the clamps now and then. Understand?

—I understand.

Iván began to turn on his heels, arms raised, the clamps tugging at his nipples with every movement. The crop fell without order, without warning, without pattern. Damián played with uncertainty. A soft touch at the waist. A dry crack against the thigh. Another brutal one right over the right nipple, against the chain, and a muffled cry escaped the boy before he even expected it.

Iván didn’t cover himself. He didn’t close his eyes. He thought of one word: alive. For the first time in years he felt every inch of his skin.

At last, something real.

—I can’t take any more —Damián said suddenly, the crop dangling from his wrist—. I’ve got to break you. There’ll be other afternoons to keep punishing you. But now I want you open.

—Go ahead. If you’re going to take my ass virginity, do it already.

—Wait. I’m going for the lube.

—No. Please. No lube.

Damián turned. He looked at him for a long moment. Years in this trade had taught him to tell when a boy was talking big and when he was dead serious.

—You mean that?

—I mean it. I want to know what it feels like when someone blows out your ass for the first time. With that cock of yours, of course it’s going to hurt. That’s exactly what I need.

—Suit yourself. On your side. The lower leg stretched out, the other bent at a right angle forward. That way it’ll go all the way in. And since you’re such a masochist, I’ll line up the head and slam it in all at once. No warning. So you feel it like a knife.

—Yes, fuck. Hard.

Damián spat into his hand, slicked the head, pressed the tip to him, and, without warning, drove it in to the hilt in a single thrust. Iván gave a sharp, brief cry, like an animal startled in the dark. Then he bit down on the back of his hand and breathed through his nose, slowly, while Damián’s body leaned over his.

—You feeling that cock yet, faggot?

—I feel it. All of it. Don’t stop.

—I’m not giving you any mercy. This is a real man’s fuck.

The pain was a different kind. Iván knew the little pains, the ones that stayed on the skin and were gone in an hour. This was something deep, wide, settled in a place he hadn’t known existed. And yet, as Damián drove in and out with a rhythm that grew more brutal by the second, Iván took it with a strange, almost religious mixture of gratitude and surrender. Knowing he was being broken by the same man who had left his ass a wreck only added pleasure to pleasure.

—I’m coming, I’m coming —Damián panted—. I’m about to come, faggot. If you want to jerk off, do it yourself. Your cock doesn’t even exist to me.

—Keep going, don’t worry. Blow me apart, asshole.

—That’s enough, goddammit!

—Me too!

Iván came against the sheets without touching himself, just from the other man’s movement inside him. It was the first time he’d ever come like that, without hands, and it struck him as stranger and more beautiful than anything that had come before.

***

Damián pulled out slowly. When he looked down at the glans, he saw blood. A thin thread, no more, but blood all the same.

—Kid, I made you bleed.

—I figured. It’s fine. I can take it.

—You’re not the first one I’ve left like this. When you shower and wash up well, I’ll put on an ointment I’ve got.

—If it’s one of those that takes the pain away, I don’t want it.

—Fuck, you’re even more masochistic than I imagined. I’ve got another one, with antibiotics. At least so the little wound doesn’t get infected.

—That one, yes. All right.

Damián sat on the edge of the bed and handed him a glass of water. Iván took it with both hands. His ass was throbbing, his nipples still numb, his hole open, and his head clearer than it had been in years. Damián watched him with a strange mix of curiosity and respect.

—I’ve been in this too long —he said—. And even so, you amaze me. Your first time. Tell me something, come on, because there’s something here that doesn’t add up for me.

Iván set the glass on the floor. It was a story he almost never told.

—Since I was a child, I’ve tolerated pain better than other people. Vaccines didn’t hurt me. I’d tear my wounds open before they could heal. My mother took me to doctors, pediatricians, specialists, tests and more tests. There was nothing wrong with me. Just a very high pain threshold, according to them. A physiological condition. They even told me it could be an advantage in life.

—Well, what a gift. And the problem?

—That I grew up without feeling like everyone else. I felt switched off. Indifferent. Absent. When I reached my teens, I understood that if I was going to feel anything, I’d have to go past that threshold. One way or another. So I started looking for videos. Hard stuff. Stuff with men and men. And one day I thought: if that’s what I need, what I’m going to look for is an older guy, experienced, with a bit of a sadistic streak. The rest you already know. I chatted with several. You seemed like the right one. And now, after everything this afternoon, let me tell you more: you exceeded my expectations.

Damián gave a low laugh.

—I suspected something like that. You weren’t like the others who write to me. There was a strange calm in your messages.

—Now you know why.

—What I know is that next time I’m going to have to go farther. You understand?

—I understand. I ask for it.

—I’m going to do some research. I’m going to look for new things. In the long run, I’m going to take you to places you don’t even know can be reached. What I don’t know is how you’re going to hide the marks in your normal life.

—For now, it’s winter. Clothes cover it. In summer, we’ll see. In any case, you can show me everything you want on my ass. Something tells me that idea won’t bother you.

—With that gorgeous ass, of course not. But I’m warning you: you’re going to have many days when you won’t be able to sit down.

—I’ll sit anyway. And every time it hurts, I’ll think of you.

Damián kept looking at him in silence. He hadn’t crossed paths with anyone like that in years. Iván, sitting on the edge of the bed, with fresh marks and blood not yet fully dry, held his gaze with a calm that seemed to belong to someone else.

—Thank you —he said at last.

—For what?

—For making me feel alive.

—Feel alive?

—Yes. Pain makes us feel alive, I think everyone does. It’s just that in my case I need to be made to cross that threshold. Like today. Or more.

Damián took a few seconds to answer. When he did, his voice had dropped a couple of tones.

—Then get ready, because from now on every session is going to go further than the last. I promise you. And when you come back, I’ll already have thought of something new.

Iván smiled, still hurting, still throbbing, already thinking about the next appointment.