By Takeo
Day 2 continues …
I stay in this kneeling position in the cell for a while, the fresh air of the apartment making me shiver. I can feel all my muscles after the gym session Franz put me through this morning. Not that it hurts, but I can feel the work that has been done.
I hear a door open and footsteps approaching the cell.
“Hello, boy,” says a beautiful rocky voice.
“Good morning, Sir” I reply.
I am not wearing a gag under the gas mask, so I imagine a response from me is expected.
“Come on,” orders Sir Flo.
I scramble to my feet, Florian taking me by the arm to help me. He leads me into another room, which I imagine to be the playroom. The temperature is a little higher, more pleasant than the coolness of the cell. Florian removes the chain linking my wrists and ankles and ties my hands above my head. In this basic position, I feel very exposed. Florian tenderly caresses my chest. His hands roam all over my body, sides, arms, back. He ventures farther down, to my buttocks. His caresses on Franz’s gym shorts provoke immediate arousal. He puts his hand on my chastity belt and whispers in my ear.
“So it looks like you’re horny boy, do you like it?”
“Yes, Sir,” I answer a little reluctantly.
Deep down of course I like it, but right now I would rather have my dick free and Florian play with it.
He continues to caress me while occasionally slapping my buttocks. When he rubs against me, I feel his hard cock touching my body. No doubt he is enjoying what he sees, which turns me on even more. Florian comes up behind me and unzips the gas mask, then removes it completely. The playroom has subdued indirect lighting, which allows my eyes to get used to the light quickly.
Observing my surroundings, I see that I am strapped into the wooden frame that sits in the middle of the room. It is a massive beam structure that appears to be very strong and rigid, with numerous metal eyelets that can be used as attachment points. The view of the playroom adds to the excitement.
I hear Florian searching for something behind me, then he returns with a large leather gag in his hands.
Not some cheap gag you find in the sex shop around the corner, but a big leather gag, with a gigantic-looking insert. I have seen this model a few times on Twitter, a guy in Berlin makes them himself, and all the comments I have read mention that it fills the mouth completely and is not for amateurs.
“Open,” Florian orders me.
I comply and open my mouth. Florian presents the insert in front of my open mouth, but to get it in I have no choice but to open it even wider, the gag being so huge. With his expert hands, Florian squeezes it all the way in. My mouth is completely filled. The cushion is made of soft leather, very pleasant. It goes deep down my throat and threatens to make me throw up. Florian grabs the ties and locks it in place, pushing the gag even further down my throat. Feeling like I am going to suffocate, I move my head back and forth to make Flo understand. He strokes my head and comes to my ear.
“Too tight?”
I nod. Florian loosens the gag a notch and the pressure eases a little, but my throat is still invaded. I nod to him that this is not right, but instead of loosening it further or even removing it, Florian stands right in front of me. He takes my head in his hands, forces me to look him in the eye and says:
“You know I can’t take it off, so you’re going to have to get used to it. Now look me in the eye and breathe calmly.”
He wraps one hand around me, the other tenderly stroking my head. I try to calm down, to breathe as regularly as possible, and Flo’s caresses succeed in calming me down.
Little by little, I adjust to the gag and begin to feel comfortable. The taste and smell of leather immediately bring up my arousal. Florian starts caressing me again. He runs his hand under my sportswear, bringing the smell of Franz’s sweat to my nostrils.
Up until then, I have been so focused on the gag that I haven’t paid any attention to Sir Flo’s outfit. He has obviously put a lot of thought into it, since he is also wearing a sports outfit. And not just any sportswear, but the black and yellow Borussia Dortmund soccer kit. Even if I am not really interested in soccer, I love the players’ outfits. And Florian not only wore shorts and a t-shirt, but also socks and shoes. He looks very hot in this outfit, my cock is starting to hurt in its cage.
Florian continues to stroke me, occasionally slapping my butt. I moan through my gag, but hardly any sound comes out of my mouth.
Our eyes meet several times, and I can see his evolution. Alongside the caresses that turn into blows and attacks on my body, his gaze changes from tender to evil.
“Okay, fun’s over, let’s get down to something serious.”
With that, he goes behind me and comes back with a leather blindfold in his hands. He puts it over my head, but not down over my eyes. He puts his hands under my T-shirt and starts gently working my nipples. He knows very well that I am sensitive and that my tits are directly connected to my cock, and he takes great pleasure in gradually increasing the intensity. I moan through my gag, but this only seems to reinforce his desire to go further.
I am surprised when, instead of pulling the blindfold down, he removes it.
“I know you like being blindfolded, but ultimately, I want you to see what you’re going through.”
It is true that I generally prefer not to be able to see what is happening to me, to be in the unknown and not be able to anticipate. But I have to admit that the sight of Florian in his soccer kit really turns me on, and it would have been a shame not to be able to enjoy it.
Surprisingly, Florian starts by untying my hands. I thought he would want to use me in this position, and I was already anticipating what he might do. This is typical form me, instead of letting myself discover what the dom has planned to do to me, I anticipate what he might do and sometimes find myself disappointed that he does not.
I decide to try and stop kidding myself, and simply let myself be drawn into the session, without thinking too much.
Flo removes the heavy irons and replaces them with leather straps that completely enclose the wrists. These must be made for suspension, with a bar you can grip and long leather straps with metal eyelets for attachment. Despite the small size of my wrists, the straps fit perfectly, and the supple leather is very pleasant to the touch.
Florian fetches some ropes and ties my hands to the wooden frame. Not directly above my head, but at the top corners. He makes sure that my arms are taut, but not uncomfortably so.
He then removes the irons that were attached to my ankles and replaces them with thick leather ties. When he returns with rope, I understand that the bondage process will continue.
“Before we continue, there’s one more thing to do.”
With that, he pulls my shorts down to my knees. I’m surprised by this movement, which I wasn’t expecting. I find myself tied up with my hands in the air, my chastity belt in full view. Florian exits the playroom and returns with a smirk.
“I’m proud of you for wearing that belt to the gym this morning, I hope you enjoyed it.”
“Mphhhh.” My feelings are mixed, but deep down I tell myself that of course I enjoyed it.
He pulls a key out of his pocket and plants it in my belt.
Click!
With a deft flick, he unlocks the system and removes the cage. My cock instantly stands up, and it is only then that I realize how excited I was in the cage.
“Looks like the situation isn’t to your displeasure.”
“Mphhh.” At that moment, all I want to do is take my cock in my hand and jerk off. But of course that is not in Florian’s plans.
I am surprised again when he pulls up my shorts. I thought, and would have liked, that he would take the opportunity to take care of my cock. Again, I overthink.
“Don’t worry, boy. We’ll come back to your cock.”
I feel as if Florian is reading my mind…
With a succession of swift, sure movements, he forces me to spread my legs and ties my ankles to the legs of the wooden frame, which immediately causes tension in my arms. He then adds leather ties to my forearms, ankles and thighs, which he connects with ropes to various points on the wooden frame. Before long, I am almost unable to move, with only my head still a little free to move.
I love the feeling of being totally immobilized yet exposed, with every part of my body accessible. The position makes contact with Franz’s outfit even more exciting, the fabric sticking to my skin.
Florian lifts the t-shirt slightly and places a wide leather strap around my belly, tightening it firmly from behind. It has attachment points on the sides, which he connects to the frame with additional ropes.
My dick is hard in the shorts, forming a big lump.
Florian steps back to admire his work.
“You’re looking good, boy!”
“Mphh mphh.” I cannot see what he is seeing, but I can well imagine that it must be exciting for him. I want to reply that he looks sexy too, but the gag prevents me to do so.
“Now it is time for you to provide what a slave is supposed to. Pleasure and fun for his Sir.”
He turns and leaves to get something from one of the playroom walls. When he returns, I see in his hands a whip with thick leather straps, a crop and a leather paddle.
It does not take long to figure out what is going to happen.
“Make all the noise you want, that’s what this gag is for.”
Florian stands behind me and starts stroking my buttocks with the paddle.
I am a little apprehensive, as I am not very resistant, and even though spanking turns me on, I cannot take hard strokes and have had to ask to interrupt the session several times.
“Don’t worry, boy. We’ll get you better.”
Flo is definitely reading my mind.
He starts to hit me on the buttocks, rather gently. The shorts soften the blows and leave a very pleasant sensation on the skin. Florian alternates between the buttocks and the strokes become more and more forceful. My adrenaline is pumping, and so is my excitement. I try to count the strokes in my head, but I am a bit lost. Probably somewhere between 30 and 40, but most of them are pretty light and it’s still quite bearable.
Flo pauses and comes up behind me. He caresses me and rubs himself against me. I can feel his hard cock rubbing my butt. He is obviously enjoying it, which turns me on even more.
He pulls down my shorts. I feel humiliated to be exposed like this with my butt in the air. Florian strokes my buttocks, which are probably already quite red, and his caresses soothe the incipient pain.
“Let’s go for another round.”
I see him walk past me and grab the riding crop. It is not long before the first blows land on my cheeks. This is no longer a joke, the blows are precise and severe. I can only move a few centimeters forward, but that is not enough to avoid the instrument.
The pain is immediately more intense. Florian is not here for laughs. He takes great pleasure in pausing and surprising me by alternating randomly between left and right. I don’t know how far along I am, I have completely lost count.
Florian passes me again, riding crop in hand and a wry smile on his lips.
“OK, boy?”
I try to regain my composure, my head spinning. I would like to answer, “Yes, Sir,” but the intensity of the spanking has made me forget the gag. I nod to make him understand.
He strokes my head affectionately.
“Good, then let’s get on with it.”
He does not go back behind me. Clearly he has decided to give my ass a break and tackle the rest of me. He takes a malicious pleasure in smacking my inner thighs. I had never experienced that before, and I did not think it was that painful. Especially as I have no way of avoiding the blows. Then onto my torso, particularly my nipples, which are fortunately somewhat protected by the T-shirt. I fidget in my bondage, but nothing helps. The bonds and the impossibility of moving further increase my excitement, accentuating the bulge in my shorts.
My body heats up on all sides, and the gag muffles my screams.
Florian is very skilful with the crop, and I can see that each blow is delivered exactly where he wants it, and with the intensity he wants. I can see the pleasure and excitement on his face as he plays with his instrument, surprising me and making me move in my bonds.
“Let’s get down to business,” he says, bending down to pick up the whip he has brought along.
My body heats up and I shudder at the thought of my punishment continuing, feeling as if I have already gone further than anything I had experienced so far. Yet my cock remains as hard as wood, the idea of being whipped with such a tool for the first time turning me on.
Florian disappears from my field of vision again and steps up behind me.
Smack!
The first blow hits both my buttocks at the same time and makes me stiffen. The pain instantly spreads throughout my body, and I scream through my gag. Then a second blow, then a third, and so on in a perfectly regular rhythm. This time I am no longer left waiting. I know exactly when the next blow will fall. I fight to keep control and not crack, but the pain becomes too intense. Florian must have sensed this because the blows stop. He approaches me and tenderly caresses my buttocks.
“You’re doing great, boy!”
Then he lifts my shirt and wraps it up, freeing my torso and back.
“But this isn’t over!”
And he steps away and takes the whip in hand again.
Smack!
This time, the blows are delivered to my upper back, between my shoulders. I have never been whipped there, and I am surprised. The pain quickly becomes intense and I can feel Florian taking pleasure in treating me this way. Then he alternates between my back and my butt. The blows are not as strong as they used to be and I can take them better. I find pleasure in offering myself to Flo in this way, and I think he understands that.
My back and cheeks are on fire when the blows stop. Florian walks past me again.
“So, do you like, boy?”
I nod to let him think I do.
“You want more?”
No, clearly not. I do not think I am capable of taking more.
Florian reaches behind my head and undoes the gag tie and removes it. My jaw is ankylosed after spending all that time with that big gag in my mouth. I cannot stop drooling. Florian scoops up the trickle of drool with his fingers and stuffs it in my mouth, forcing me to lick his fingers.
“So, what do we say, boy?”
“Thank you, Sir!”
“Good boy. Are you thirsty?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Florian exits the playroom and returns with a bottle of water, the contents of which I down in one gulp.
“Ready for what comes next?”
What next? I thought the flogging was over. I am about to protest when I remember the rules I had to learn with Franz and the punishment I suffered this morning in the gym. I change my mind.
“Yes, Sir,” I reply like a good slave.
With that, he pulls my cock out of the shorts and takes my balls in his hand. He squeezes them and pulls them down, immediately causing serious pain in my lower abdomen. I try to bend down to lessen the pain, but the bondage prevents me.
“Your cock’s been caged long enough, it’s time to give it the attention it deserves.”
He fetches something from one of the storage bins and returns with what I understand to be a leather parachute, which he secures around my balls. Obviously, the spanking is over, but I am not going to be untied just yet.
To my surprise, Florian removes his shorts. He’s wearing an orange PUMP jockstrap underneath. The bulge formed by his erect cock is clearly visible. He removes it, revealing his stiff cock. At that moment, it occurs to me that the flogging has turned him on so much that he is going to want to fuck me. I push the thought away, trying not to let my mind anticipate his actions. Anyway that is obviously not the case as Flo pulls up his shorts.
“I know you like jockstraps, so breathe that one in!”
He shoves his jock under my nose, forcing me to inhale its scent.
“I’ve been wearing it since I left home, does it turn you on?”
“Yes, Sir,” I reply, the sound of my voice muffled by the jock.
The smell is strong, but not unpleasant, on the contrary. I am excited at the idea of being dressed in Franz’s sweat-soaked outfit, Flo’s jockstrap over my face.
“Now open up!” he orders me.
I comply, and as soon as I have opened my mouth, he shoves his jockstrap inside. After wearing the large leather gag, the jock enters without difficulty, especially as the amount of fabric is relatively limited… Flo’s scent now reaches me as a taste in my mouth, which continues to turn me on.
“Let’s make sure it doesn’t come out,” he tells me, grabbing a roll of black tape. With impressive dexterity – it cannot be the first time he is doing this – Florian wraps the tape around my head to form a tight gag. He then affixes small strips under my chin to ensure that I cannot open my mouth at all.
I find myself gagged again, but this time with my Sir’s underwear in my mouth, which he has been wearing for several days. I am so excited that I feel like I am going to cum right now.
Florian goes back to the back of the room and returns with some material I cannot quite make out.
“Just so you don’t get any ideas, here’s what’s waiting for you, boy.”
He shows me the contents of the box and I see a gasmask, a hose, about 15 metal spheres maybe 2-3 centimeters in diameter, and some kind of latex bag I cannot identify. Plus nipple clamps and a rope.
With a sure hand, Florian hands me the gas mask and adjusts it correctly. He checks that it is on properly by plugging the air inlet. I confirm, the air flow is completely stopped, the gasmask is firmly in place. Unlike the mask I was wearing earlier, this one has large-diameter goggles and they are not obstructed, so my field of vision is only slightly impeded. He then attaches the hose, which must be maybe 1 meter long, to the mask.
Florian then bends down to pick up two metal spheres.
“I take it you’ve figured out where this is going?”
I admit I have not. I have already forgotten that Florian had put a parachute on my balls, and it comes back to my mind when Florian bends down and hangs the two metal spheres from it. They tug at my balls in a pleasurable way. I like the sensation of having my balls tied and pulled, it provokes a strong arousal in me.
“Now I’ll explain. Here’s a rebreathing bag that I’m going to attach to the hose. From then on, most of the air you breathe in will be the air you breathe out, hence the name. The valve is partially open, so you’re still supplied with a little fresh air. But beware, the hole is rather small. If you get to the end of the available air, you can nod and I’ll open the valve wide to replace the air.”
I have never done much breath control, but Florian and I tried a rebreathing bag once and I liked it. I feel confident and ready to do this with him, and he knows it.
“But this time there’s a little extra challenge.” What the hell does he mean by that? I had to suspect it wouldn’t be as easy as the last time we had done this at his place.
“Every time you ask me for air, I’ll add one of these spheres to your parachute. The game stops when you cum, or if the spheres run out and all hang from your parachute. From now on, you’re allowed to cum, but don’t expect me to touch your cock.”
“Ah yes, I forgot,” he said, picking something up off the ground. “Your favorite accessory is still missing.” And I understand he is talking about the nipple clamps. After playing a little with my nips to make them hard, he puts them in place causing a pleasurable pain.
Then he attaches the rebreathing bag to the gasmask hose. I am extremely aroused by the situation, tied up in a kind of spreadeagle standing up in sports gear, the pleasant feel of the leather straps on my skin, unable to move, my Sir’s jockstrap in my mouth, covered by tape, weights attached to my balls. All this is turning me on. I try to breathe calmly, and the more time passes, the hotter and more humid the air I inhale becomes, and the shorter the breaths. Florian must really have only opened the valve a little.
I love this feeling of having to fight to get the oxygen I am breathing in, and I love the contrast between the warmth and humidity of the gas mask on my face and in my lungs, with the coolness of the playroom air on my body.
Relatively quickly, I start to struggle to breathe, and although I like it, I am not at all a fan of extreme breath control, which I find particularly dangerous. It does not take much to turn me on, and I do not need to be pushed to my limits on that score. Florian knows this, which is probably why he lets me decide for myself when I need a breath of fresh air. As soon as I feel my breaths are too short, I nod and Florian immediately opens the valve and I feel the wave of fresh air fill my lungs. I take several deep, welcomed inhalations. As I catch my breath, I see Florian reach into the little box and pick up a metal sphere, which he attaches to my parachute.
The tension on my balls increases, and I love it! The setup is perfect, I am at the height of excitement and would love to cum. I can feel it building, and all I want to do is jerk off. But of course that is impossible.
As soon as the sphere is fixed, Florian closes the valve. Again, I try to relax and breathe as calmly as possible, but this time Flo grabs the riding crop and gives me a few strokes on my buttocks, back and thighs. Not very hard, but hard enough to make me jiggle and swing the weights hanging from my balls, causing extra tension. Then he attacks my cock. I hate strokes on the cock. I squirm hard, looking at Flo with a look of spite. He looks me in the eye.
“Ah yes, you don’t like it, that’s true. We’ll save that for later punishment if you misbehave.”
Fuck, I don’t want to misbehave!
My attention was diverted from the gas mask and I realize I’m starting to run out. Gasping for air, and the whip blows adding to the nipple clamps and breath control, my excitement soars. I make the sign and Florian gives me air again and adds an extra weight.
“Do you know how much these balls weigh?” asks Sir Flo.
No idea, I would not be able to tell anyway…
“50 grammes?”
I nod, thinking it’s more. But I have no idea.
“100 grammes?”
Maybe. Hard to say. I nod.
“Wrong, they’re 150 grams each.”
So if I am counting right, I now have 600 grams hanging off my balls.
As I was saying, I like ball strechers and having my balls pulled. I have a metal ball strecher that must weigh 500-600 grams that I often wear during the day. So this weight is not unusual for me, but I have to admit that in this position, it feels good, especially when I’m moving and the spheres are swinging.
But my thoughts are cut off by Florian, who closes the valve. And the whipping resumes. As the air gets warmer and rarer and the blows rain down, my excitement grows.
And it increases even more when Sir Flo adds a sphere to my parachute.
This process is repeated several times. I enter a slightly second state. Different from the one I have experienced previously when strapped in for long hours. My mind races as the sequences of constricted breathing and added weight on my balls follow one another. The problem is that this is not a one-off pain, because once the new sphere has been installed, the weight stays on the balls for the entire next phase.
If I count correctly, I now have 10 spheres hanging from my balls. That’s 1.5 kg. For me, that’s a lot and I am really starting to hurt, the pleasant tension phase is over. I do my best to hold on as long as possible without asking Flo to open the valve, but it is impossible, I am forced to accept my fate and increase the weight that is torturing me.
Sir Flo mentioned that if I came, my predicament would stop. The more the sequences follow each other, the more my excitement grows, and I am on the verge of cumming. But with nothing to stimulate me, I just cannot do it. I have already come a few times without touching my dick, but each time it was following anal or electro stimulation. In this position, and with the pain of the blows and weights, I just cannot do it. I try to move, but the swing of the weights acts immediately and makes me stop these movements right away.
12 spheres. 1.8 kg.
I am sweating, the jock in my mouth with Flo’s smell makes my head spin. I love the feeling of being connected to him by carrying the underwear he has worn for the last two days in my mouth.
15 spheres. Almost 2 kg. I squirm in pain.
“So, boy, don’t you want to cum?”
“Mphhh.” Of course I want to cum!
I see the smile of complacency on Florian’s face as he takes malicious pleasure in closing the valve and grabbing his riding crop. The excitement must be building in him too, the blows are delivered with increasing firmness, and I can feel he is enjoying torturing me like this.
I restrain myself from asking for air as long as possible. As the air decreases, my excitement increases and I am on the verge of exploding. I have no idea how many spheres are left in the box, but I know I cannot take much more.
17 spheres. 2.55 kg. I cannot take it any more, and I am writhing in pain. All the more so as the spheres are free and swinging with my every movement.
“Well done, boy, that was the last one.”
Alleluia!
“Too bad you didn’t cum, boy, that was your only opportunity today.”
At this point, the weights focus all my attention and I am not even frustrated, just glad this treatment is over. Even though it has not stopped at the moment, with the weights still attached to my balls. But just knowing there will be no more is enough to relieve me.
Sir Flo stands in front of me.
“Well done, I’m proud of you. Do you want me to take them off, or do you want to keep them on for a while?”
How can I answer such a question when I’m gagged? I nod.
“Bravo, boy, I didn’t think you were that resilient!”
And at that moment he removes the rebreathing bag, turns around and walks out of the playroom, turning off the light.
What the fuck?! I try to scream, but only a small sound comes out of my mouth. I find myself in the dark, bound and gagged, a gasmask over my face and 2.55 kg hanging from my balls. My lower abdomen cries out in pain, I do not know how long I can hold out.
At the time, I feel like crying, but I do not have the strength.
I am left alone with myself, trying to distract my attention from the pain, but it reminds me in no time. After what seems like an eternity – although I later learn that Sir Flo only left me like that for 10 minutes – Florian returns. Without a word, he unties the weights hanging from my balls and removes the gas mask. The relief is immediate. The fresh air on my face is so pleasant, and the hard pain in my balls is quickly forgotten.
Without my being able to see what he is doing, Florian busies himself with my sex, which has become soft in the meantime. He passes something over the base of my sex, probably a cockring. I know he likes to see me erect, and this could be a way of making sure I do not get down too easily.
But instead, I feel something slide over my cock, and I understand right away what is going on. Florian is fitting me with a chastity cage. Not a belt like I have worn since my train journey, but a small cage enveloping only the cock.
Once he has closed it, Florian steps back to admire his work.
“You look hot, boy!”
I want to tell him that he does too, but of course I cannot. Immediately, my cock tries to harden in his cage, without success.
Florian approaches and pulls the shorts back up. Little by little, he undoes my restraints. My limbs are numb, and I am relieved to finally be able to lower my arms. I had not realized it, but a tension had built up in my thighs.
“Kneel, boy.”
I comply. Florian walks past me and installs leather mitts around my wrists, which he locks with a padlock.
“Remember, you’re not allowed to talk.” With that, he undoes the tape gag, which does not fail to pull out a few hairs in the process. Afraid of doing something wrong, I keep the jock in my mouth.
“Give back.”
I push the jock with my tongue and Florian takes it. It is nice and wet after spending so much time inside my mouth. I am almost sad he is pulling it out, so much do I love being forced to smell his male scent.
Flo reappears in front of me with a large, soft leather collar, which he puts on me and locks with a padlock. It is not a posture collar, but it is wider than a conventional collar, partially restricting my head movements.
He attaches a leather leash. With a quick tug, he lets me know I need to move forward.
“Stay on your knees.”
I follow him into the playroom on all fours, relieved that my predicament is over, and excited for what is to come next.
Florian guides me to the cage I spent the night in.
“Climb in!”.
I climb into the cage and find two bowls lying on the floor. I hear the door close behind me. I turn to see Florian locking it with a large padlock.
After giving me one last look, he turns and walks out of the playroom, closing the door.
I find myself alone in this cage, with the two bowls at my disposal.
To be continued …
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