12

z119z

© 2014 by the author


The intimacy of pain is my gift to you.

Of course, it will hurt at first. That’s why you’re bound. The body and the mind naturally tend to shy away from pain. I know you think you are a masochist, but even masochists can’t help themselves. When their bodies experience pain, they flinch and try to escape. It’s a natural reaction. So I will continue to bind you until you become 12. 12—well, more of 12 later.

You may wonder why I bound only your wrists and ankles to the bench. Well, I’ll admit that I want to see you writhe. This is a training session for you. Naturally the focus is on you, but even so I permit myself a few pleasures. Eventually you will become devoted to serving my pleasures. For now, however, I can and I will be patient.

Bondage isn’t the point of today’s session, however. The wrists and ankle cuffs are enough. You can’t escape. I know you wondered about that. You tried to hide it from me, but I saw you pull against the ropes attached to the cuffs. You were curious about the strength of the bonds, weren’t you? You wanted to test them and see how much you could move. Well, as you found out, the answer is that you can move to a limited extent. You can’t escape. You will try. As I said, the mind’s natural response to pain is avoidance. But you can’t escape. Eventually you will accept that. Then will come the stage when you don’t want to escape. Finally it won’t even occur to you that the option of escaping exists. Of course, you won’t be you then. You will be—12.

The harness around your head is there to keep you from talking. I’m not interested in anything you have to say. Your views are irrelevant. Sometimes I like to hear the trainee beg, but I’m not in the mood for that today. Maybe on another occasion. I’ll see. It all depends on what I feel like. Today your moans and groans and muffled screams will be enough.

Nor is it necessary for you to see. That would distract you from what is happening. You would try to use something in your sight as a distraction. I can’t allow that. I want you to focus on what is happening.

Eventually you will lose the ability to speak except in answer to my questions, and you will learn to see only what it is necessary for you to see. Life will much simpler for 12.

As for why you are lying on your stomach with your backside exposed. Well, as you probably know from your past experiences, the ass is a convenient target in the beginning. Later there will be other targets, but for your first lessons, the back of the body is best. There will be pain, but for now it won’t be directed at areas you have been trained to believe are vital.

Notice I said “trained to believe.” All your life you have been indoctrinated—at home, at school, at work, at play. Your parents, teachers, bosses, movies, TV, books—you have been surrounded by lessons in how to behave. Today’s session begins the process of stripping away those old, useless lessons. I will make them irrelevant to what you will become. I will re-indoctrinate you. I will imprint new beliefs on your mind through your body.

Those new lessons can be summed up in four words. Submission. Obedience. Service. Devotion. Four very simple and straightforward yet complex concepts that can in turn be summed up in one word. Me. The Master. The Owner. In the end that’s all that will matter to 12. Me.

I’m not your master yet. That will take several sessions. Ownership will require more lessons. It will take even more sessions for you to become 12. What is 12? 12 isn’t anything but me in what you now think of your body and your mind. 12 won’t have a conception of a relationship with me because 12 won’t experience any separation from me. I will be the totality of 12’s perception, of 12’s world, 12’s universe. 12 won’t conceive of existence separately from me.

You shuddered. See, I told you the body tries to avoid stimulus. And that wasn’t even painful, was it? Well, it wasn’t meant to be painful. Just unexpected. A surprise. The lightest touch on the back of your neck. But you see how you reacted. That’s normal.

I suppose you’re wondering what I have in my hand. What I used to make what you probably think of as the opening move in today’s session. Well, it wasn’t the first move. Today’s session started long before now. It started when you first encountered my profile and thought about contacting me. Your training began at that point.

Did that hurt? A bit more stimulus this time. Something for you to think about. For you to wonder about. Is that all? What’s going to happen next? Will it get worse? Will this guy stick to our agreement or will he turn out to be a maniac who will beat the shit out of me? All those questions, and doubts, and hopes, and fears running through your mind. Not knowing what’s going to happen—that’s part of the thrill, isn’t it?

When you walked into this room, I was watching you on the cameras. Yes, there are cameras. I noticed your eyes take everything in. You looked around. All those things hanging on the wall. The plastic bins filled with objects. The frames and chairs and tables. Well, that’s why they’re there. So you can see them. A little bit intimidating, yet exciting and arousing at the same time. Of course, you were already aroused when you walked in.

The mirror in the anteroom—the one where you undressed—it’s two-way. You couldn’t resist looking at yourself in the mirror, could you? You even tugged at your cock and balls, felt yourself a bit. Everyone looks in the mirror and tugs at his cock and balls. Just the thought of what might be on the other side of the door is enough to stimulate and arouse.

I think you liked what you saw in the mirror. You probably thought I would be impressed with your body. It’s a good body. I’ll give you that. But your appearance isn’t important. A lot of men have looked at themselves in that mirror—some of them have been obese, some of them have been emaciated, some of them have been old, some of them have been young. Muscular, flabby, handsome, ugly. Sometimes they like what they see in the mirror. Sometimes they worry that I will find them ugly. Inflated self-perceptions. Self-doubts. Does anyone truly see himself as others see him? Well, it doesn’t matter. Appearance isn’t important, not in this room. All that’s important is the mind.

Your body isn’t important to me because of the way you look. It’s important to me because it’s a tool, one of my many tools for reaching your mind. Just like all the things you saw in this room when you stepped through the door. All the whips, belts, floggers, paddles, gags, hoods, chains, cuffs, all those hundreds of objects hanging on the walls. Those clear plastic bins filled with shiny object —some not so shiny anymore. The stocks, the bondage chairs, tables and benches, the sling, the chains hanging from the ceiling. So much for the eye to take in. So much for the mind to think about—a wonderful mix of anticipation, arousal, excitement, curiosity, and, of course, fear. That marvelous bit of fear.

And then just as you’re enjoying that anticipation, that fear, just as you’re thinking, “Have I gotten myself into something I can’t handle? Maybe I should leave?” you hear the door lock behind you. I admit that’s a bit theatrical. The door could simply close quietly. But I built it so that the locking mechanism was quite audible. That snick of a lock engaging—it took your breath away, didn’t it? Anywhere else, it would be an insignificant noise, something you’ve heard thousands of time. A sound you seldom consciously hear. But here, when you’re surrounded by all these wonderful tools, it’s ominous. I bet your heart skipped a beat. I also bet that your ballsack tightened and your cock gave a jerk. Fear and arousal. In this room, they are twins. In this room, they will become identical twins.

After a bit, you noticed that there ahead of you on the table was the hood that you were told would be awaiting you. It’s the only thing in the room that was out of place. Everything else was neatly hung up or stowed away. It caught your eye, didn’t it? You knew it would be there, and there it was. I watched you as you touched it and examined it. It seemed so light weight, so harmless, didn’t it? Just a bit of dress-up and make-believe.

Now, some men panic at this point. They beg to be released. It’s all a mistake, they say. Sometimes they even cry. I ignore them. There’s only one way out of this room. I simply outwait them. Eventually they put the hood on. I know what they really want, and in the end they always admit it and give in.

But you, you were eager, weren’t you? You walked over, picked up the hood, and pulled it over your head. Were you surprised that you couldn’t see through the fabric? A lot of guys who’ve worn a nylon hood before think they’ll be able to see out. But not through this hood. How did you feel when you discovered that that little bit of freedom had been removed from you? What did you think about as you stood there, unable to see? Did you feel how cold the room is? How quiet it is? Did you wonder when I would arrive? Did you wonder how I would begin?

Are you familiar with the phrase “left on the cutting room floor”? That’s what I do in this room. I remove things and leave them on the floor to be swept away and tossed in the garbage. Oh, don’t worry. Calm down. You’ll only hurt yourself if you struggle like that. I didn’t mean “cut” literally. It’s a metaphor for the process you will undergo here. So many things that you think of as parts of you, maybe even essential parts of you, are going to be left behind on the cutting room floor. Think of the process as becoming a zero state, a tabula rasa, an empty vessel, a vacuum. Emptiness waiting to be filled. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Did you sense that I was in the room with you before I told you to extend your arms so that I could put the cuffs on? Some of the trainees are so startled when I speak for the first time that they jump. Others seem to feel my presence.

You like the cuffs, don’t you? They are nice and heavy. Even though you can’t see them, you just know that they are strong and inescapable.

I like it that you held out your wrists and ankles to be cuffed without hesitation. You didn’t resist when I put the muzzle around your chin and mouth to hold them shut. And you didn’t try to get away when I led you over to the bondage bench and secured you to it. That bodes well for your future training.

As for what’s touching you now—that’s the business end of a riding crop. You may have noticed it when you walked in. It’s forty inches long and hangs on the wall from a loop attached to the handle. The shaft is flexible. That and the length give it a bit more snap and force than a shorter, stiffer crop would have. You probably don’t know the terms for the parts of a riding crop, but the keeper—that’s the thin bit at the end that will be coming into contact with your body—is made of leather. It’s about two inches long, three-quarters of an inch wide.

That’s the part that’s tracing a line down your spine right now. It’s so gentle, isn’t it? Just a soft, tender touch whispering slowly down your spine. Of course, you can’t see, but the keeper rises and falls as it moves over the bumps of the backbone. It’s very sensual. Just focus on the sensation of the keeper moving over your body. It makes you feel so alive, doesn’t it? Across your buttocks and down the back of your thighs. So sensuous. So intense. The back of your calves . . . the soles of your feet. Just focus on the part of your body the crop is stroking. Slowly. Gently. Tenderly. No hurry. Just relax. That’s it. Take a deep breath. All the way in. Now hold it. And now let it out slowly. And as you do so, just relax. Again. Deep breath in. Hold it. Hold it. And relax even more as you breathe out. Excellent.

That’s hurt, didn’t it? But wasn’t it wonderful too? Don’t you love how that pain, that wonderful, unexpected pain, echoes throughout your body? It isn’t just the buttocks that hurt. That’s only the center of the pain. The pain explodes outward until it fills you. That’s what’s so wonderful about pain. It’s like a firecracker exploding first in your body and then again in your mind.

And the crop left such a beautiful red welt across your butt. Here. I’ll trace it with the tip of the crop so that you can feel it again. Just focus on that line. Think about it. Think about how it will soon just be one of many lines of pain. Think about it.

You knew there would be pain, but you thought you were safe for a while. I was just talking to you, nattering on about taking deep breaths and relaxing, and suddenly, out of nowhere, a vicious slash across your butt. Well, that’s one of the lessons you will learn. I determine when there will be pain. And where.

Like here. . . . And here.

I don’t even have to expend much effort. Once I make the area sore, a few light taps are enough to renew the pain. Of course, they don’t offer the satisfaction of the sound of a hard strike against your flesh. Here, let me demonstrate. There. Isn’t that much more satisfying to the ear? Compare it again. Hard strike. . . . And now gentle taps, mere flicks of the keeper against the skin. I can also assure you that visually the hard stroke leaves a much more pleasing record that gentle taps.

And of course, the buttocks aren’t the only part of the body we can work on. There are the backs of the thighs. . . . The backs of the knees. . . . The calves—although I don’t find them as satisfactory as other parts of the body. Do you?

And . . .

The soles of the feet.

I think you will agree that that is painful. The bastinado. A favorite of medieval torturers. It’s such a vulnerable area—the sole of the foot. Maybe because it’s so often tucked away out of sight. In shoes and socks. Doesn’t it make you feel your helplessness even more to know that I can strike the sole at any moment? You no longer have any control. None. No part of your body is safe from me.

For now, however, I’m going to concentrate on your buttocks. I’ll leave the pleasures of the bastinado for a future session—something for you to look forward to.

So your buttocks. This part of your body. So far only a few strokes of the whip. But there will be more. Many more. Your cheeks will be crisscrossed with welts. It will hurt you to sit for days. Hard strokes, Rapid strokes, Slow strokes, Gentle strokes, Loving strokes. So many. Over and over. Until your mind no longer distinguishes them. Until your entire being is a field of pain.

And then gradually you will accept the pain. You will offer your body up to the pain. You won’t be aware of it, but instead of trying to avoid the pain as you’re doing now, you will welcome it. Now, each time I hit you, you struggle and try to escape. But that will stop soon. Soon you will resign yourself to the inevitability of the crop, the inexorable whip. Then you will surrender to it. You won’t even bother to cry out. Your cries will become moans and then even they will cease. The only sound in the room will be the sound of the whip hitting your body.

And then something wonderful and miraculous will happen. You will begin to welcome the pain. You will begin to hum with pleasure. Instead of trying to escape the pain, you will rise to meet it. As each stroke ends, you will lift your buttocks in anticipation of the next stroke. You will want the next stroke. If you could talk, you would beg for the next stroke. “More.” “Harder.” “Please, don’t stop.”

That’s what I meant when I mentioned the intimacy of pain. It invades your body. It invades your mind. A penis can only penetrate so far into your throat, so far into your ass. It’s a limited tool. But pain goes so much deeper, so much farther into you. After a while, it’s all you can think about. It’s so intense. It’s like an orgasm. There’s nothing like pain. Your body may even confuse the two. You may cum. But you won’t even notice it. Because the pleasures of orgasm will be nothing compared to the pleasure of the pain. For today, that is the gift that I will give you—the knowledge of pain means to you.

Once you reach that point, I will release you. That will be the end of the first session. When you leave, you may tell yourself that you won’t return. But you will. You will because today you will learn that pain is so much more pleasurable than what others call pleasure. And you will have to come back for more, for different forms of pain, for ever more intense forms. Pain is an addiction. In the end nothing else will matter to you. You will want the pain. You will need the pain. You will become pain.

And that will be your first lesson on the way to becoming 12. I’ve already told you something about 12. What more can I tell you? 12 is a state beyond ego. After a few sessions, there won’t be any “I” left in you. And then, after a few more sessions, there won’t be any “you.” You will become a mindless, will-less object. 12 is simply the designation of this object. Not a name. An object doesn’t have a name. But I need a word to use to refer to this object. So I use 12. There’s no significance in the number. I call all my objects 12. 12 is simply a vessel for my will. 12 is me in another body.

But enough talk. It’s time for your journey, your conversion, to begin.

Comments are appreciated. You can leave them here or email them to me at z119z2000@yahoo.com. Thanks