Hockney decided being submissive to Kitaj all summer was a more exciting prospect than returning home to Yorkshire. So he stayed in London with his master rather than changing his routine radically now that the Republican College of Art was closed for a long holiday. The sex was great with bondage, spankings and cock sucking, day after day. What follows is just one unusual piece of the rumpy-pumpy action from that long hot summer!
Kitaj was in a spanking mood when he arrived at Hockney’s one sunny Sunday. He had a corporal punishment look playing around his eyes, mouth and adam’s apple, when he arrived. As soon as Hockney opened the door there was Kitaj, standing on the other side of the portal with a lusty look of anticipation on his face and a huge bulge wriggling like a glow-worm beneath his tight black trousers.
This was the Kitaj Hockney had come to adore and respect. If the dom had arrived minus the proverbial bulge, then Hockney would have been concerned that this rubber freak was going soft or suffering from erectile dysfunction, or just possibly had been diagnosed with cancer of the bowel, or some rare tropical disease that no one at the Republican College of Art had ever heard of.
But Kitaj showed all the usual signs of expectancy and it wasn't long before the whip master was freshening himself up by splashing some really high class eau de toilette imported from France (well actually it was made in the east end of London and sold on dodgy market stalls as having been imported at great expense from the continent) all over himself. By the time he did this Kitaj had dressed down and was wearing only his very sexy tight blue briefs, which revealed the raging monster of his throbbing manhood lurking beneath his surprisingly effeminate panties.
Kitaj had everything Hockney wanted and more: a blue veined 8-inch cock beneath those oh so sexy knickers. The sub hoped he was going to receive a good beating before getting his mouth around Kitaj’s glorious pork sword. Beneath the thin veneer of civilisation Hockney knew he and all those around him were little different from cavemen (identical really apart from the fact they lived in bedsits, studied art, wore mass produced clothing, went to the cinema, used public transport, rode bicycles, ate processed foods, &c. &c.).
Hockney found spanking incredibly stimulating and if taken to an extreme – as he liked – a tad painful too. But the sexual aspect made spanking decidedly pleasant and fun. Hockney loved the way Kitaj like to role-play and experiment with fresh forms of perversion. He was already wondering what new sex kick he might be hit with that day. Things didn’t pan out quite the way Hockney expected this particular Sunday. Kitaj showed the sub his erect length, presenting it to him in such a way as to indicate that he wanted Hockney to play with it and then suck it dry.
Kitaj said: "Here it is David!" And Hockney instinctively knelt down between his master’s open thighs. Kitaj sat neatly on the edge of an armchair so that his huge bollocks gorgeously slopped over the edge while his lovely length stood up to attention awaiting an excitable tongue. Hockney licked it from the tip downwards and then took Kitaj’s balls – one at a time – in his mouth. After a while Kitaj told Hockney to end the oral stimulation and to: “Get down baby on your hands and knees!” Puffing and panting like Thomas The Tank Engine (as voiced by the hippest and most talented Beatle Ringo Starr), Kitaj drilled his fuck stick right up Hockney’s arse, making the sub go limp like a rag doll. And not just like any old rag doll, but like Looby Loo from the kid’s TV show Andy Pandy. Just before he climaxed, Kitaj unplugged Hockney butt and drove his shit smeared manhood into the slave’s mouth, then pulled it out again, so that the bottom was able to experience Kitaj’s hot fresh spunk spurting into his face.
Kitaj then pulled a half-switch on his slave and before you could say “Ringo Starr is an English musician, singer, songwriter and actor who gained worldwide fame as the drummer for the Beatles,” the dom had gone down 69-style on his very favourite bondage boy. Hockney’s face was already sticky with Kitaj’s spunk and before long he was in a sexual frenzy that would have done the Marquis de Sade proud. Hockney felt the tension rise in his groin and seconds later his own honest and warming Yorkshire love juice spurted into Kitaj’s open and welcoming gob.
The two men aimed to be as deliberately filthy and polymorphously perverse in their sexual exploits as they could manage. Hockney loved the kinkiness of it all. Kitaj could say what he liked and do what he liked as far as Hockney was concerned, and the top certainly liked to take advantage of this. Hockney was shocked by the tenderness of Kitaj’s lips indulging in a heated French kiss before the dom thrillingly spread the bottom’s arse cheeks apart so that his mouth connected to the sub’s bumhole. For Hockney this was anal sex with a difference, rather than being brutal it was kind and tender! What a shock!
There was no messing, or rather there was plenty of mess up Hockney’s shit-chute, but that didn’t stop Kitaj going the whole hog and really giving his boyfriend’s bumhole a thorough working out with his tongue. For Hockney the day’s ‘tenderness experience’ was simply out of this world. When the sub was with Kitaj all his passion exploded and he became whatever his master wanted him to be. But the rim job was totally blowing Hockney’s mind. Surely a master should not be shoving several inches of tongue up a slave’s fun-hole! Wasn’t that role reversal? But this was exactly what Kitaj was doing and by breaking all the BDSM rules to boot, he was truly turning Hockney on! Hockney knew how to be all arse when Kitaj wanted arse (in fact he was a bit of an arse most of the time), and Hockney also knew how to be all fingers and mouth when Kitaj wanted a deep-throated blow job.
But having turned Hockney’s world upside down by doing a switch, Kitaj soon reverted to form and decided that after too much tenderness the bottom needed a bloody good spanking. Kitaj told Hockney he had been thinking about his slave’s butt a lot. It was obvious that Hockney had a backside that had been made for punishment, and that Kitaj could make their booty sessions the talk of the London BDSM scene.
Hockney sat to one side, to give Kitaj access to his arse. The top stroked and lightly scratched both cheeks, then indulged in a little more rimming which Hockney loved, it stirred him up for a good fist fucking later!
Kitaj and Hockney had spoken a lot about how pain and sex can combine to make for a really passionate sex session. Kitaj told Hockney to get on his lap and then push his arse up in the air – making his tail bone rise and arching his spine at the same time. It felt nice and Hockney touched the floor with his hands, hia head hanging downwards – almost as if he was performing yoga or perhaps pilates - as he awaited the first slap across his tight buttocks.
After a hard slap, Kitaj paused before hitting his target again. Then the tempo of the beating slowly increased. Hockney’s arse tingled and felt very tender as Kitaj carefully spanked one cheek and then the other alternately and occasionally both together - almost as if he was beating out a rock and roll monster beat. Sometimes Kitaj firmed his slap, at others he was loser and somewhat careless, and this gave a flexibility to his rhythm that could be found in the blues but not in western classical music. Hockney closed his eyes and took each sting of pain across his wonderful booty as a perverse pleasure that turned on both himself and his master Kitaj.