Taboo Sex

Ben Gets a Tutorial

A young student encounters a strict instructor.

Spankmasters
May 21, 2024
19 min read
collegecock suckingbondageBen is Shown the Ropesanal
Ben is Shown the Ropes
Ben is Shown the Ropes

Ben Gets a Tutorial

LEARNING THE RIGHTS AND WRONGS OF SEX?

This independent sequel to "Ben is taught about discipline" is set in the early 1970s and revolves around a curious guy unlearning the ropes of male intimacy.

Before my first year at a provincial English academy, I was a naive virgin, secretly drawn to men but too timid to act on my cravings. However, things quickly changed when a fellow pupil and I discovered we both enjoyed bondage – he with tying me and me with being restrained! These mutual interests eventually culminated in a wild and eye-opening weekend of gay sex with four men who had me suck their penises, have sex with them, tie me up, spank my butt, torment my nipples, pummel my balls, and shower me with urine. This was a one-time affair, and unfortunately, I had no way of contacting these guys again.

By 1971, access to gay men in both my university and city was limited, with few clubs available even in bigger cities, and there was no internet for connecting with people. Not to mention, the pervasive homophobia of the time still made it difficult for men like me to freely explore my sexuality. Just three years after the decriminalisation of homosexual activities, we were making tentative steps out of our century-long penal closet.

During another term, I concealed my newfound affections, watching my classmates brag about the beautiful women they'd hooked up with at their jobs or parties. The pending threat of social exclusion left me dreading any mention of homosexuality, particularly during the holidays. I feared I'd never get another opportunity to express my sexuality.

My situation changed four weeks into the following year when two chatty cleaners I sat behind on the bus sparked my attention.

"Oh, Jimmy's a decent individual, and I love how he does my hair. However, I'd ask him to stop being so flamboyant if I were his mum. Those homosexual ways are legal, but it's still a risky prospect with his long hair and bold apparel. Not to mention his sassy mouth."

I tried to resist as they chatted, retaining my stoic demeanour, but their gossip piqued my curiosity.

"Jimmy's rather challenging. Last week when I mentioned my nephew, Eddie, moved to a new address on Merton Street, he exclaimed: 'Maisie, that's next to the Queen Alexandra pub. Urge him to avoid it on Saturday nights. The queens will surely set their sights on him if he's with his sweetheart there."

I feigned interest in the window view to mask my intrigue and exchanged the bus at the next stop for a mile-long walk to the Public Library. I created a list of the "Queen Alexandra" and was determined to pay it a visit the next weekend.

But I pondered how to attract male companions, specifically the older, authoritative ones I lusted after. I'd been inexperienced before my initial weekend and learned from older, more seasoned men. The thought of seeking out other men for sex was daunting. I was shy, even struggling with basic conversation in social settings, preferring to blend into the background. How could I compete with more outgoing, possibly cuter guys?

I examined myself in a mirror, scrutinizing my body. My broad shoulders, tall frame, dark hair, and blue eyes appeared respectable, but what about my protruding ears, erect nipples, oversized balls, and my disproportionately large rump?

After admiring my penis in various states of arousal, wondering if it was beneath par, I concluded it was on par with other cocks. I was a "grower" rather than a "shower" but my dick normally stayed semi-hard in my youth.

Unable to glean much insight from my meagre experience, I summoned the courage to navigate the dangerous waters of gay socialising.

Age:These days it's the 2023, and everything has changed – I'm thirty-nine years old.

What year was the series written in?This series was written in 2019.

What's the original source of the series?The original source of the series is www.bdsmlr.to.

Is the story graphic and explicit? What sort of explicit content is present in the story?The story contains graphic and explicit sexual content, including descriptions of sex, bondage, and fetishes. Specifically, it discusses oral sex, precum, spanking, nipple torture, ball-busting, and urination.

Is this series a part of a larger project?

No, it's a self-contained story.

Why is the story set in the 1970s?The story is set in the 1970s to evoke a time when homosexuality was still considered taboo, adding a degree of mystery and danger to the main character's experiences.

Social context of the story:The story takes place in a time when homosexuality was illegal in many parts of the world, and homophobia was prevalent. The protagonist struggles with his own sexuality, grappling with the idea of expressing it openly during its early stages.

Emotional context of the story:The protagonist journeys through life, discovering new facets of his identity and desires while navigating the challenges of homophobia and isolation.

Who is the target audience?

The target audience for the story can be assumed to be gay men interested in the themes of self-discovery, sexuality, and domination in a historical context.

As I gazed at my exposed body, it crossed my mind that one of the chaps from the sex weekend had directed me to the bathroom to clear myself out with an enema hose before he'd touch me. Having no such thing to hand, and sharing a college restroom with three other lads, I subsisted on thin soup for the following days until Saturday night arrived. That evening, when the others had gone to the dining hall, I visited the showers and spent several minutes under the hot water, thrusting soapy digits within me to ensure I was pristine inside and out.

No one in the UK was more nervous than me as I stepped through the doors of the "Queen Alexandra." At first, I thought it seemed like any other neighborhood pub on a Saturday night, but soon enough, even without being an expert on gay life, I noticed subtle differences, a testament to Jimmy the hairdresser's legitimacy.

In most establishments, individuals glance briefly at each other as they enter. However, by the time I reached the bar, most of the male patrons (and there were no women) scrutinized me intently as if scoping out this new arrival. This was the first time I'd been so conscious of being overtly treated as meat, and I reacted by lowering my head in shame and avoiding eye contact, sparing just long enough to order a pint of the house ale.

The landlord drew my pint, and I was taken aback by his frank staring.

"I don't recall seeing you in here before, sonny, welcome. A handsome young man like you shouldn't have any issues striking up some new friends tonight."

He then winked and wished me well as I slipped into the crowd, holding my beer and positioning myself in a secluded corner before daring to gaze up at the crowd. It was a diverse assemblage by age; a few younger guys, while the rest were from their late twenties to elderly. Aware that some of them continued to scrutinize me, I averted my gaze to the floor, anxiously guzzling my drink, draining it before I realized what I'd done.

I ventured further out into the room and found myself near a well-dressed mature gentleman sitting at a table. He smiled at me and inquired whether I was new. When I affirmed that I'd never been to the pub before, he frowned at me and inquired if I'd observed anything peculiar about the other customers. I acknowledged the differences, which had been what attracted me to the place.

"Ah, I'm relieved to hear you say that, dear boy. Though my gaydar's not always infallible, from what you've mentioned, I'm more than convinced you're one of us."

He grinned, introduced himself as Gilbert, and inquired about my name. He had the demeanor of an amiable grandfather, leading me to sit with him and soon divulging much about myself, including my sexual preferences. It felt refreshing to discuss these topics freely for the first time with a sympathetic ear.

It seemed I'd arrived at one of the most well-liked persons in the pub, which made meeting several of the men present on that evening possible. One or two of them frequently stopped by to say hello to Gilbert, giving them ample opportunity to examine the newcomer seated beside their old friend.

As I idled away the time, I observed each new arrival, and they in turn considered me. It didn't bear fruit, though, with many not interested in a fresh young face, others being decidedly unattractive, and the guy I found most appealing appearing to be spoken for. I started fretting that my evening would amount to nothing.

One hour into my stay, a tall, dark, middle-aged bloke appeared, wearing a fitted short-sleeve shirt showcasing his muscular arms and a tuft of thick black chest hair peeking out from his shirt collar. His full beard of the same black hair and arresting green eyes completed his look. I was left reeling; he perfectly fit my mental image of the ideal guy!

I fixed my attention on him, but he didn't reciprocate at first, since a young blonde already engaged him in conversation. I glumly watched as they spoke for a couple of minutes, then was disappointed when he chatted cordially with a guy his own age.

As I bemoaned the sad truth that the hottest man in the pub appeared to have no interest in younger men, I heard Gilbert instructing me to explore and find someone.

They said a young lad has needs, and shouldn't neglect them. Lots of willing hands were present to help him. I listened to this advice for a while but started feeling that my night was cursed. The guys I desired didn't seem interested in me, and I didn't feel excited about those who approached me.

I was persistently trying to find my type, while the man I desired seemed to be on the opposite side of the room. If he did acknowledge me, my rugged gaze wasn't amusing. I wanted him so much – but thinking about how he disregarded the younger blonde, I assumed he wouldn't choose a boy like me and the blonde.

Just about ready to leave and try another time, I let Gilbert know, but he introduced me to two hot guys rather – John and A. Both over twenty, they had dark hair, two moustaches, and beautiful tans from their recent Spanish beach holiday.

When they learnt I was a first-time visitor to the "Queen," Al proposed I receive a proper welcome. He put his arms around me, held me tightly in a mighty bear hug, and indulged in a double cheek kiss before handing me over to the other guy. He also enclosed his arms around my body but rather than a bear hug, he grabbed my buttocks while his tongue entered my mouth.

With the gratifying feeling of being manhandled and kissed, I didn't want him to stop. Realising the electrifying impact he had on me, he took time easing off and still stood smirking at the way I flushed. I was staring longingly at him when Al shouted in a loud voice,

"Cool bum, Bennie! It'll entice a lot of trouble, if you're not cautious."

I was left fixating on him with a hard-cock tenting my jeans when Gilbert vicariously stated that both of them caused distress and vanished as if they had no connection. In the meantime, I somewhat agreed –

"They're mischievous boys, both – they trigger mayhem and then vanish as if they had no role in it."

I then decided to get one last pint before going home. But upon reaching, another obstacle arose: the man of my imagination. Fearing chastisement for hungrily staring at him all night, I looked down to avoid eye contact, but I was stunned when he declared,

"Don't be apologetic when someone touches you, dude. Sexy boys like you get manhandled. Get accustomed."

I couldn't grasp this comment immediately, more preoccupied with his sexy deep voice and an attractive Scottish accent which aroused me. My thoughts were racing. Did he find me sexy, or was it all a game involving a clueless boy who admired him?

As I murmured a thank-you, I noticed a mere smile emerging from his course. I was shocked by his words, and I heard him remark,

"Regarding minds, it seems your dick is adept at taking charge."

The curious conversation left me perplexed. What was his game? Did he really find me attractive or was I in a maze where he was tampering with my thoughts? With high expectations, my college fantasy turned out to be a mirage. Feeling befuddled and sad, I decided to terminate this night and try for a do-over next Friday, but not before disposing of the three pints of bitter. However, as I walked towards the bathroom, I bumped into the Scottish hunk at the urinals. I averted my gaze, looking down while standing beside him, focusing my intention on my urgent requirement to pee. I observed my uncontrolled flow hitting the drain, only after it ran dry, did I dare to look at him and was taken aback by the surprise of my life. []

He stood at the urinal, jerking his fully erect penis with his hand. I watched in silent awe for a few moments before his authoritative voice forced me to lift my gaze and look into his eyes.

"I caught you ogling me all night long. And since I just saw your hard dick in your hand, I figured I'd show you mine. Are you going to act on your desires or are you one of those chatterboxes afraid of dicks?"

I opened my mouth but no words came out; this was almost too much to handle. Seeing I was speechless, he continued.

"You've been staring at me all night, but you never approached me. Are you just some sort of flirt?"

"No, sir. I think you're stunning, but I thought you weren't interested in boys like me."

"Well, I am, you silly man. And if you're not teasing me, why don't you prove it by sucking on this?"

I managed to squeak, "Oh my god, yes please, I'd love to. I want your dick more than I can express."

"You'd better, 'cause we're going to have anal sex too. Are you ready for that?"

"Yes, sir."

At that moment, we heard footsteps and he pushed me into a stall, locking the door behind us and pressing me against the wall. He put his hand over my mouth to silence me as he listened for the two men who'd just entered the bathroom. After they conversed for a while, he replaced his hand with his tongue.

John had kissed me tenderly a few minutes earlier, but this was different. My breath was taken away as his tongue explored my entire mouth, and then he forcefully licked my cheeks, jaw, neck, and ears. Then he returned to my mouth.

While his tongue wiped around my mouth, his hands gripped my butt cheeks, and I could feel the length of his dick pressed against my groin. I stood still, not moving as I willed him to take control. As soon as he determined the coast was clear, he grabbed me, turned me around, and seated me on the toilet seat. I looked up as he unzipped himself and shoved his dick between my lips.

He rammed it in deep, choking me, then pulled out briefly before going in again, this time more gradually and not as deeply. Thanks to weeks of practicing with bananas and cucumbers, I was somewhat prepared for this moment. However, he wasn't planning this as a long introduction since he soon dragged me back to my feet, held me close, and whispered in my ear.

"You were a good boy, not like some so-called cocksuckers who don't even open their mouths. To be honest, out of all the people here tonight, I've either had sex with them or they've rejected me or they're pigs or too old. You're a good looking guy who obeys rules. This is your opportunity. I'll wait by the back door for five minutes before I leave. If you want more of this, be there."

Without saying another word, he turned and left the stall. Eager not to lose him, I waited a few more seconds and then hurried out of the men's room. Feeling uneasy about not saying goodbye to Gilbert, I went straight across the main room and out the back door where the Scottish man was waiting. He nodded at me and walked away without a second glance, expecting me to follow him.

He moved quickly, leading me down a row of poorly lit alleys behind a string of Victorian brick houses. He walked so quickly and took so many turns that it was difficult to keep up with him. Thankfully, after five minutes of this manhunt, he stopped in a dimly lit garden where he led me through a doorway into a kitchen. He leaned against the kitchen table's edge in a semidarkness, and only a streetlight's glow illuminated the alleyway. He unbuttoned his pants, pulled them and his underwear halfway down his thighs, and showed me his thick, uncut penis for the second time that night.

"Get to it; you're a cock-sucker," he said.

As if on command, I dropped to my knees in front of his dick. Leaning close to breathe in his potent masculine scent, I grabbed his cock with one hand and licked his balls with my tongue. Mouth and hand combined, I engulfed his balls and then licked his inner thighs before soaking his ass crack in saliva.

In a euphoric state due to the intoxicating aroma of his boiling body, I glanced up from beneath his legs, pleased to find him closing his eyes with a grin. Initially, my eagerness motivated my tongue to generate an idea in his mind. He gently extricated my head from between his legs, twisted his body around, and positioned my face close to his backside, replacing the taste and scent of his genitals with those of his anus. Unenthusiastic about rimming, I went through the motions, licking up and down the haired crevice before tonguing his hole. It turned out that he had showered before attending the pub, as his backside tasted the same as his front, exuding a sweaty, seductive male fragrance.

I licked up and down the furry chasm, curling my tongue inside his hole. He let go of my head, realizing I was industriously embracing the task, so I continued licking until he rotated back around. After all, he had labeled me a "cocksucker," and his penis required oral stimulation.

The kitchen grew hot as the two of us fumbled around, causing his shirt to come off, exposing his broad muscular chest and upper arms. Intrigued, I observed his imposing form for a while before unleashing my oral skills. I began working on his cock, swirling my tongue up and down each side, before rolling it around his foreskin to gather pre-cum coated in a gooey head cheese. He not only allowed me to entertain myself with my tongue-play but also let me lick it for several minutes, knowing that wouldn't suffice and that he would soon need to claim his prize. Nonetheless, he eased off on the pressure, permitting me to keep licking until his decision to face me.

My thoughts turned to his potential ejaculation as I worked diligently to obtain a mouthful of his semen, but I was abruptly pushed backward, stumbling and landing on my bottom. My initial assumption that I had angered him soon altered as a wide grin appeared on his face.

"You almost had me believing you could make me cum in your mouth when I haven't touched your ass yet. Stupid, aren't you?"

"No, sir. I mean, yes, sir. I apologize, sir," I stammered.

"And you expect me to fuck you, completely clothed? Get naked, boy. Quickly."

I hastily removed my clothes, and after checking me out thoroughly, he muttered, "Not bad, except you're too skinny." Gripping my buttocks, he kneaded and massaged my cheeks, before playing with my nipples. Then, with his right hand, he manipulated my cock before hurting me by pinching and squeezing my testicles.

"That's a massive pair there, full of cum. How long has it been since you masturbated?"

"Wednesday, sir. I didn't want to let someone down if I met them tonight," I explained.

"Three days ago? Your age? Your cock's at the point of exploding! We need to take care of this immediately or it'll overflow," he remarked.

He maintained his grip on my balls as he teased my prostate with the fingers of his other hand. Due to my arousal, I would have ejaculated if he hadn't held my testicles that tightly, ensuring I wouldn't reach climax.

However, he aimed to penetrate my anus, and that wasn't accomplished with his fingers. After maneuvering me onto the kitchen table, he commanded me to grip the other side's edge. Instead of retrieving lube from the upstairs bedroom, he rummaged through a nearby jar, reinforcing the girth of his greasy fingers before penetrating me with all four. Thus, my anal cavity stretched liberally, eager to replace them with his penis.

He messed around with me initially, sliding his cock along the crease of my ass and nudging it against my hole but not pushing it inside me. It was evident that he was just as worked up as I was, and wouldn't delay us for long. Soon, he pushed forward and I pushed back, allowing the tip to slide right in. He was initially gentle, taking it slow until he had filled me, and considering his lubed fingers had prepared the way, it didn't exactly hurt. When I felt his hips press against my ass, I let out a sigh of comfort and pleasure; I was being fucked!

Once inside, however, he started slamming harder, fiddling with it within me, yanking it out completely and then shoving it back in again. I was moaning from sheer delight. He was equally turned on and my heightened reactions seemed to turn him on even more, resulting in a lengthy, tiring session of banging. He frequently slowed down to stop himself from shooting his load too soon and the unyielding pressure on my prostate nearly resulted in a hands-off orgasm for me. It ultimately happened just as I was about to cross the finish line, with a triumphant shout in my ear and the feeling of his gushing cum filling me up.

He collapsed on top of me, motionless until he could breathe normally again. Then he lifted his torso up, pulled his dick out of me, tapped my ass, and stormed out of the room.

"Keep your hole closed till I come back. I'm going up."

I heard his footsteps ascending the stairs and entering what I assumed must be his room. A minute later, he thumped back down and marched back into the room.

"Here's something to keep you satisfied till the next round. You nearly wore my dick out, naughty boy; I need a break."

He'd climaxed but needed some rest, but I hadn't and was still thrillingly aroused. Since he'd been unaware of my bondage kink, or how much excitement being restrained could give me, he was startled when I placed my wrists together behind my back, indicating that I wanted to be bound up. This was so startling that he inquired about my bondage preference while tying my wrists together.

"So you like being bound, huh?"

"Oh, yes, sir. I adore bondage."

"Well, fuck it, that's not what I'm doing. I just need to keep your hands away from your dick, so you don't pleasure yourself. I understand what boys your age are like. They can't keep their hands off their dicks and once they start, they can't stop. You're not cumming tonight; you'll behave and hold off until I'm ready."

As he was conversing, he moved me off the table, guided me against the kitchen wall, and seated me down. Due to the limitations of my arms, I slid down and landed heavily, forcing the plug deeper into me; causing me to grunt and him to laugh.

He circled the kitchen and grabbed a glass of Scotch and a package of cigarettes. Demanding me to spread my legs wider, he placed a chair in front of me and sat down to drink and smoke. Admiring the fact that my cock remained rock-hard the entire time, he tied one lace around my balls and the other tightly around the base of my cock, now serving as a leather cock ring, ensuring that my blood-filled cock would stay erect.

Realizing that my taut dick was about to explode, he was careful not to touch it, even unintentionally, from that moment on giving my cock-sucking mouth his attention. As he rubbed his feet against my face, I licked the toes and then the soles, reveling in the scent and flavor, reacting to the strongest variety of his hot odor. Seeing the degree of arousal that I was in, he eventually picked up his socks from the floor and crammed them into my mouth, gagging me with the essence of his sweaty maleness.

He relaxed, taking a sip of his drink and puffing on a cigarette, admiring the view of my restrained and gagged body sandwiched between his chair and the wall. After a while, he decided his cock was ready for a repeat performance. He set down the whiskey and cigarettes, scooted the chair forward, and pressed his crotch against my face. He replaced the socks with his penis and penetrated me deeply, similar to his earlier attempt. This time, I managed to control the situation better and was taken aback when he removed his penis almost as quickly as before.

"Alright, you're a skilled cocksucker, but it's that tight hole of yours that interests me," he said. "My dick is eager to fuck again, so come up onto the table. This time, lie face up."

It wasn't simple getting up with my hands tied behind me, but I did my best to stand up and ascend onto the table swiftly. I gazed at him with intense desire as he loomed over me. He began by rubbing his fingers over my body, pinching my nipples and squeezing my swollen testicles, before getting more intense.

Once he applied more lubricant to his dick, he grabbed my ankles, placed them on his shoulders, pulled the plug out, and filled me with his dick. Holding onto my hips, he guided my body around the table while fucking me; almost dragging my body off the edge, then holding onto my ankles and spreading my legs as far as possible while his dick thrust in and out of my increasingly loose hole.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, we continued in near silence, the only sounds being the sound of sweaty skin slapping against sweaty skin, his labored breathing, and my moans of pleasure whenever he twisted my nipples or spanked my balls. I wanted this to last all night, but I could also sense that he'd have to slow down at some point.

He slowed down almost to a stop, with his dick still in me, and leaned over to unpack the leather shoelaces tied around my cock and balls. It was a struggle due to the leather's saturation with sweat, but eventually the knots came undone. Once my genitalia was free, he climbed onto the table and positioned my legs over my head, directing my erect penis towards my face. Accelerating his pace, he pounded my insides while gripping my organ. After being denied an orgasm for two hours, it only took a minute for a massive load to burst onto my face and upper chest. The sight of his ejaculation and my constriction of his penis caused him to release his seed into me for the second time that evening.

He let go of my legs and collapsed on my chest, grumbling that I'd been a "good boy." I was drained but unconcerned; the night had been one to remember. After some time, he retrieved a damp cloth, cleaned the cum that had been sprayed on both our bodies, and reintroduced the butt plug into my greasy cavity. When I looked at him, he said before I could pose the obvious question.

"You were a good boy tonight. I'd like to do it with you again soon, and I think you would too. If you show up at the Queen Alex next Saturday with this in you, I'll give you another performance. Does that work for you, son?"

That was perfectly acceptable to me, and I immediately agreed to return. After putting on my clothes, he embraced me, and it occurred to him that he didn't know my name. I told him it was Ben and he responded that he was called Robert. He said goodbye and I left the building, heading for home. It was past midnight, and I had missed the last bus, so it took an hour of hurried walking before my fatigued body fell into bed.

As agreed, I appeared the following week and was treated to more excitement. We continued to meet on Saturday nights until the end of the semester, and by the time I left for the Easter break, we'd had numerous enjoyable encounters, discovering what each other found sexually arousing and stimulating.

Our experiences when I returned for the new term will, of course, be the subject of PART 2.

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