The Mystery Religions of Gladovia

Out in the street, walking along under the palms, I felt immensely proud to be with Nik. Some weeks ago I’d put an ad in a contact magazine reading “English aesthete seeks local bruiser to teach him a lesson,” but the only reply I got was from someone wanting to teach me Spanish. I couldn’t, anyway, have expected to contact anyone remotely of Nik’s quality. But I still couldn’t figure out why I’d spent the entire session this evening uninvolved. It wasn’t what I’d planned, and yet somehow I’d turned into the organizer, arranging things for other people but never for myself. I put this to Nik. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry if I were you,” he replied. “Someone had to arrange everything, and if you’d been a Master or a slave that might have been difficult. You’d have chosen all the best slots for yourself.” “Like being caned by you,” I said. “Really?” Nik said, turning to me. “Is that what you want? I’d love to punish you, darling, and it would be even nicer if there were only the two of us there. After not taking part this evening, your buttocks must be almost virginal. I’d love to make a start on changing that for you. “But maybe we need a reason for your punishment. Let me see. How about that you’re unable to love? All your perambulations – don’t think I don’t understand them. So I’ll cane you until you confess your true nature.” I gave an involuntary start. “But I do love!” I exclaimed. “I mean, at school …” “Oh, at school,” retorted Nik. “How long ago was that? No, I think that nowadays you’re a promiscuous gay and nothing else. But don’t worry, I’ll cane the truth out of you. Do you want to make a date for it now?”