By Unknown

This story by Anonymous is from Jim Stewart’s Houdini Connections site, which remains online. I do not claim ownership of this story, nor do I know who originally wrote it.

—Metal

Questions

He stared for a long time and when I had recovered enough to speak I very carefully asked what I needed to do to be released. The stranger looked down at my stiff cock and asked “Are you sure you really want to be released.” Whilst it was true I was loving every second of watching this leather man, I also knew I was here for a reason, and against my will, and that sooner or later I was going to find out why. So it might as well be sooner.

“What do you want?”

“Revenge and information.”

“Revenge? For what?

“For what you took away.”

“I don’t know you. How could I have taken something from you?”

“You don’t know me by name but we have met.”

“When?”

“Last year at the interrogation phase of my training. I was one of the men on the SAS selection and after five months of grueling training, I was one day away from acceptance when YOU tricked me and got me talking. I failed selection because of you. And it’s not going to happen again.”

“But that’s my job. Interrogating is what I do. It is not up to me who the SAS select, I just run the interrogation training.”

“Well now I’ve got another chance at selection and I’m not going to blow it this time. I want to know everything about the exercise. How it’s run. What the tricks are. How long it lasts, everything. And you’re going to tell me. And then you’re going to tell no-one about this.”

“I can’t do that.”

There was a pause.

The leather soldier moved in and I screamed as tit clamps went onto my nipples. A hand clamped over my mouth. The pain wasn’t that bad, it was more the surprise than anything.

The leather mask came right into my face and the blue eyes bored into my own.

“Scream away, no-one can hear you. You will talk. You’ll be begging to talk to me and I may not let you until I’m sure you’re going to tell the truth. You’ll be gagged and going crazy wanting to speak so that I’ll stop what I’m doing to you. But I won’t let you speak until I’m absolutely sure and you’re absolutely desperate.”

The hand came away and a different tight close fitting leather hood was dropped over my head. No eye holes. No mouth hole. Just three small holes below my nose. Laces were tightened, a zip closed and a padlock fitted at the neck. The hood was not coming off even if I got my hands free. The chain between the tit clamps was pulled slightly. I sucked in air and pushed my chest out to reduce the pull, swinging from the bar as I did so. The chain was dropped. The spreader bar between my legs was replaced by the short hobble chain and my arms were lowered and cuffed together in front of me. I was led forward struggling until a sharp tug on my tits reminded me it would be better to cooperate until I got a true chance to escape. Through a door and up a flight of stairs then along a corridor and up more stairs.

We must be in the house attached to the garage where I had first been kept. Why move me here? Unless the facilities were better! Another door and I was pulled over to a padded table. The tit clamps came off and I gasped as a surge of blood rushed into my squashed nipples. “Face down” his voice commanded.

I lay face down on the padded table. He adjusted my arms and legs and then straps seemed to tie down every part of my body.  After removing the ankle chain, the whole length of my spread legs were tied down. My arms were by my sides but also tied down to the table with my wrists and hands still encased in their complicated leather straps. My head seemed to drop slightly into a depression and was secured in that position with more straps. Lastly my cock and balls were hanging free through what must have been a hole in the table and therefore were presumably totally exposed. A wide strap was passed over my arse and tightened pressing my crotch further into the hole and preventing any possible movement. It was clear where the centre of attention was going to be!

During the move and tit torture I had gone soft though I still ached to milk my balls to relieve what felt like an internal pressure. I had never felt anything quite like it before as I had always managed to find time to sneak away and toss myself off even on exercise. I prepared myself for the pain my balls were about to receive and sucked in breath at the first touch but was amazed to find my flaccid cock and balls totally enclosed by the leather biker/soldier’s mouth. It felt so damned good. His nudging tongue gently teased the beginnings of an erection and he withdrew his mouth. The air cooled the spit on my balls whilst he continued to lick my stiffening shaft.

Gripping it from the side between his teeth and lips he caressed the underside with his tongue. Transferring his attentions to the tip he licked around my large bulbous glans forcing the foreskin back. I moaned in pleasure and felt the beginnings of a long awaited orgasm begin to rise. Leaving my cock head he slid his tongue the length of my shaft and transferred his attention to my balls. Nudging, lapping, sucking and massaging with his tongue he drew me nearer and nearer to the edge. I felt my balls contract and my cock begin to bob up and down and the tongue left me. I sobbed into the hood desperate to cum. The tiniest breath of air would have been enough to tip me over the edge but nothing. My cock continued to bounce up and down but I just couldn’t come and no matter how I struggled I could do nothing to bring myself off. The bastard had taken me close to the edge and just left me there.

Gradually, very gradually I began to come down. A tongue flicked rapidly over my piss slit and down my shaft and I was on my way up again. As his tongue worked its magic I felt my balls tighten and I tried to push down to get my cock further into his mouth but once again he pulled away and I was left dangling on the edge. Every fibre of my being wanted to cum and I sobbed again as I knew it was not going to happen.

“It’s not going to happen unless I say so. I’m going to keep you like this until you WANT to talk and tell me what I want to know.”

So that was it. The only way to avoid talking also meant I could not cum. Well fuck you. I know my duty. Name, rank, number and date of birth only. To everything else – I can’t answer that question, sir.

“Fuck you” I mumbled through the tight leather hood. He must have heard or known what my response would be because he went to work straight away. Legs were freed and rebound together at the ankle and just above the knees. My head was released and arms were freed to be joined at the wrists. More straps went round my elbows and they were cinched together until they touched. My feet and wrists were pulled together and upwards. My hood was also pulled back and up until I was arced into a painful hog-tie. Just when I thought it could get no worse tiny tit clamps were attached to my exposed nipples and my balls were weighted from below. The arse strap kept my pelvis strapped down to the leather-padded table. I knew I couldn’t take this for long and tried to think of something to say that would convince my tormentor I was telling the truth and get him to release me from my agony. I held on as long as I could but the pain became worse.

“I’ll talk” I tried to say.

The ropes pulling my arms, feet and head up went slack and I sagged forward onto the tit clamps. I let out a cry and leather gloved hands lifted me up and removed them. My elbows were released and I lay trying to recover and get my breath.

“I know you’ll talk,” said the biker, “but anyone will talk under torture. That’s not enough. You have to want to talk to me. You have to tell the truth and you have to do it willingly.”

It was almost as if he knew my mind and my plan to lie. Well fuck it, I couldn’t tell him what he wanted to know so I’d have to make damned sure I wouldn’t cum no matter what he did to me. I was not going to talk and I if I could not resist a bit of sexual torture then I shouldn’t be in the job. So do your worst “asshole.” In my anger the last word escaped from my mouth.

Once more I was repositioned prone on the table, strapped down and immobile. I prepared to resist. First came his mouth, only this time I was not going to rise. I thought of the torture I had just undergone and managed to control my breathing. The mouth withdrew. Right under my balls a gentle vibration began. The leather soldier had got a vibrator and was going to work on my balls. The sensation was like nothing I had experienced before. The steady throbbing went on and on and despite my best efforts I began to go hard. The head of the vibrator moved to my shaft and it was not long before I was erect again. How easily I had crumbled. But there was no way to make me cum against my will. Or so I thought. But the vibrator went on with its work. Up and down my shaft it roamed round my balls, perineum and of course my glans.

Occasionally the soldier’s mouth took in the tip of my cock and kept it moist. With the foreskin back there was nothing to stop the head of my cock growing and it felt like it was bursting with blood. I was just beginning to reach the point of no return when the vibration stopped and a thin cord was wrapped around the base of my cock and balls and a couple of times round my ball sac. Now the blood was trapped and my balls couldn’t rise to release their load. I was not going to loose this erection in a hurry. Instead of the vibrator I now felt a light touch in the cracks at the top of my legs. The touch was very light but it did its job, not only did I stay erect but more blood poured into my engorged cock. I could feel the veins standing out down the shaft. The touch transferred to those veins and began to trace out their pattern. Up and down and all the time my balls are struggling to shoot their load and I am struggling to prevent them. But it was a losing battle just as I had given in and allowed myself to cum all touch ceased.

I yelled and sobbed and ached but nothing happened. If only I could get anything to touch me now I knew I could cum. I squirmed in my bonds but they held and I was powerless to do anything about my urgent need. “Please” I begged. “You know the answer” he replied. And so the cycle continued. I lost track of how many times I almost came. But I know how many times I did come. None.

I was weak with frustration and tiredness and on the point of giving in, but still thinking about lying when a particularly vigorous attack began. Tiny brushes and feathers tantalised my glans and piss slit and I was on the verge of cumming once more when with a final burst of resistance I yelled “Never” into the hood. All attention ceased and my erection died. The cord was removed from my cock and balls and the straps released on my body. I lay exhausted. A battle had been won but in my heart I knew it was only a temporary victory.

I hardly knew what was happening to me as I was made to stand by the table. The wrist/hand cuffs were removed and my arms were lifted in front of me. I felt the sleeves of a jacket slide up them. The jacket was on me before I realised that it must be a straight jacket. It felt like leather but I was in no position to judge. The back straps were tightened, I struggled a little as the arms were crossed but it did no good. Two straps between my legs were pulled up and tightened. My elbows were cinched back and my forearms strapped together in front. Then began a gradual tightening of all the straps in turn. I was guided forward and I felt more strapping placed round my head. Then my head was pulled up and I was supported in a standing position. A spreader bar went between my ankles and I was lost once more.

“I’m going to take a rest now but when I return we’ll work some more. You know you’ll talk in the end – but you won’t cum until you do. Think about it.”

As a parting gesture something was placed round my ball sac and then I felt the steady pull increase as weights were added. It wasn’t painful but I certainly wasn’t going to forget my balls.

“Don’t want to make this too easy, do we sir?” So, he had been watching for some time in the wood. He could have taken me earlier and didn’t. He had watched me struggle thinking I could escape before he had moved in. This soldier was a real sadist. He would have done well in the SAS. I briefly considered the possibility of getting some sleep in this position and then the white noise began. The hood must have had earphones built in because the noise was loud and direct. I gave up hope and abandoned myself to a miserable time whilst my captor rested.

Answers

I stood. I had no choice. The pull on my balls was constant and pressing. The cramping of my arms steadily worsened. I cried and tried to move my arms but the straps had no give and all I could do was move my fingers slightly. Every time I tried to move my body the weights on my balls started swinging. At least I couldn’t fall over! Only one man knows how long I stood there. It seemed like hours but I had no way of knowing. Eventually the noise ceased. Agonisingly slowly I was released from my living hell. The spreader bar was removed and the straps of the straightjacket undone.

The heavy leather jacket was pulled away, the ball weights removed and I stood held by the head, my arms hanging limply at my sides while the cramps eased. How much more of this could I take? How much should I take? Surely I had done the honourable thing and resisted long enough. The straps holding my head were released and I stood pathetic and almost broken. I was only hooded but I could not have fought back if my life depended on it. I was led by the attachment on my balls a short way and told to kneel. I did so. I was against some sort of bench. I was pushed forward over some padded surface and my arms hung down the sides.

Yet again I moaned as straps secured my arms and legs over the contraption. When I was lashed down to my captor’s satisfaction, the hood was removed and I blinked in the bright light. My eyes hurt. I had been in darkness for a long time. I raised my head slightly to see shiny metal plates on biker’s leather boots. Working up, thick, black, padded, heavy-duty biker’s trousers enclosed powerful legs. An ammunition belt sat on his hips and more heavy-duty thick leather made up the bikers jacket which was done up to the neck. A black helmet, visor down, topped the lot. Slowly a heavily gloved hand pushed up the visor to reveal the still hooded face of my soldier captor.

“You think you’ve done well. But you going to need all your strength before I let you stand up from my special little cum-control bench. You are going to beg me to let you talk. And when you have, I’ll allow you to come.”

Kneeling down he forced a large hard-rubber gag into my mouth and buckled it behind my neck. There was a short tube protruding from it to which was attached a longer tube.

“Drink if you’re thirsty. You’ll need it.”

I sucked through the gag and pure sweet water entered my mouth for the first time since my captivity had begun. I drank my fill and the long tube was detached. I could now breathe through my nose and mouth even though still gagged and I felt refreshed and strengthened by the water and fresh air.

“Piss if you need to.” I did and as I released my bladder I saw the stream of strong coloured piss leave my dick and fall into a waiting bucket. I had not drunk anything since my abduction and the stream was quickly over. He removed the bucket out of my sight.

As the leather-man moved behind me I saw myself for the first time reflected in a large mirror. A rough unshaven face stared back and I saw I was strapped over a leather padded bench in an all fours position. My arse was spread and my cock and balls hung down between my spread legs. A leather parachute dangled from my balls. The biker seated himself behind my arse and removed the parachute. Then he took off his thick leather gloves and pulled on a pair of thin supple black leather gloves. Leaning forward his tongue flicked over my arsehole and around between my legs. I sucked in air and felt faint stirrings in my groin. He pulled away and reaching underneath the bench flicked up a small hinged plate. The plate came up between my legs and pushed my cock and balls back between my legs.

I was still relatively soft and knew now that an erection was going to be a very painful thing and that it was going to be almost impossible to cum in such a position. My head dropped. And then jerked up again as the tongue flicked from the leather mask to cover my arse and balls in spit. On and on the tonguing continued until I was painfully hard pressing against the plate. Then a series of tiny brushes were used to tickle every crevice, every fold, every square inch of skin. The tickling was agonising and every so often a brush would touch my glans ensuring I stayed hard. I was close to cumming again and didn’t think I could hold out any longer when the brushes stopped. I screamed. I had to cum. But I didn’t.

Next a leather thong was sawed across the tip of my cock. I cried but it didn’t stop. I knew there was only one way out. I had to come without my captor realising it was going to happen until it was too late. So I began to resist the tickle torture. He attacked with tiny paintbrushes, toothbrushes, feathers and many more objects I could not see. I fought and stayed erect and close to the edge. Eventually I knew I was going to come and struggled to control my breathing. Giving in to the feelings coming from my cock, I prepared for orgasm. I couldn’t believe it when he stopped the assault and left me quivering and shaking and unfulfilled. I was beaten. I dropped my head and asked to talk as well as I could through my gag. The gag came off but the leather biker sat down again at my arse and began to bring me once more to the brink.

“Please let me cum and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” I meant it.

The tickling continued.

“Please I’m begging you.”

The feather hesitated but did not stop.

“First you talk, then I allow you to cum.”

There was no way out. I talked. And all the time the sadist kept me erect. I told him everything I knew about the training and no-one knew more than me. When I had finished I pleaded to be brought to climax. But he just stopped.

“You promised,” I screamed.

“All I said was I would allow you to cum, not that I would make you cum. You now have my permission to cum.” In so saying he dropped the plate and my cock was freed. But there was to be no release of the kind I so desperately wanted. So this was my reward for betrayal. I cried and sagged in my bonds, and cried until exhaustion overtook me.

I woke to find the rope back between my teeth, paracord round my nuts and wearing my own shorts. My wrists were cuffed behind me and I was hobbled again. I looked up to see my leather master, as he now was, slip the green cotton sweat scarf back over my eyes. I was pulled to my feet and led by the balls out of the room and back downstairs to the garage. Into the van again and once more hogtied. The door closed, the engine and white noise started and it was if time had jumped and my ordeal was just about to start.

It didn’t take long at the other end to be handcuffed and spread-eagled between the steel posts. My balls were lashed to the fifth post and the last lecture began. Everything had been photographed and would go to the military if I said a word. CSgt Norris would be phoned with the number I had supplied and told to come to the training area. Alone. I slept and was woken by hands removing my rope gag. It was Dave grinning down. “So you failed to escape boss. That’s not good. But where have you been?”

“Never mind that now just let me up. Anyway I can’t tell you where I’ve been.”

“Can’t. We’ll see about that. I warned you what would happen if you failed to escape and I’m a man of my word.” He replaced the gag and blindfold and then slipped a green cotton hood over my head. “Don’t go away,” he said, “I’ll go and fetch some of the boys.” Before leaving he tightened up the paracord attaching my balls to the peg. “Don’t want to make this too easy, do we sir?”

To be continued …