By slavebladeboi
I swayed a bit in my chains. It was dark, as Boss had turned off the lights when he left and I was somewhat out of it at that point. I was, however, slowly realising that I was standing on my feet as well, and not just my toes. I hadn’t noticed Boss releasing the ratchet a couple of inches, which he must have done whilst rubbing life back into my shoulders.
The plug was still pumped up hard inside me, and the slight swaying gave me that horny gut sensation when it touched my prostate. Some comfort then. The wrist restraints were a decent pair, and my hands were never in danger of getting numb, I could probably stay in that position for hours and simply just get tired arms. But it never came to that. He’d regroup and come back fighting!
And suddenly there he was. Can’t have been more than ten or so minutes when the door flew open and he slammed it behind him. Always a sign that he’d got his energy back. Great. Wish I had. He undid my gag and held up a bottle of water.
“Please, Boss. Thank you, Boss.” I slurped it down, spilling some when he pulled it away and adding a bit more moisture to that which was already covering my chest. He raised a gloved hand and gently rubbed it over the path the water made between my pecs, never once looking into my eyes, nor did he speak. He was keeping his distance mentally, and that meant the session wasn’t over, by a long mile.
The chains were tightened as before. I felt the zips on the front of my rubber boxers being carefully opened, a rubber hand grabbed my balls and pulled them free, my cock flopping out at half mast where it had retreated to since the earlier onslaught. That’s when he got hold of my shoulders and looked straight at me.
“You know you’re my Alpha don’t you?”
“Thank you, Boss. I know I want to be.”
“And we’re OK?”
“Yes, Boss. We’re good.”
“So, if I push you down some dark tunnel you do know that I’ll be there to pull you out the other end, don’t you?”
“I trust you totally, Boss.”
He leaned in and kissed me, long, tender, loving. My floppiness had recovered by the time he let go of the back of my neck, rubbing against his leathered crotch as I leaned forward as far as I could toward him. He pulled away and stepped behind me.
First the blindfold, then a gag. The blindfold was carefully positioned, the gag was as tight as it could be, one of those decent sized ball gags with a hole though for breathing, just as well as the hood didn’t have nose holes. Then nothing. I stupidly twisted my head to see if I could see what was going on, that worked then. He pulled my balls forward and down, wrapping something round them. At this point I couldn’t tell if it was weights, but a few seconds later, after feeling the cold lube on it, I decided that it was an electro band. Oh joy. That tunnel was definitely going to be dark and long. Next followed the obvious, the electro cap over the head of my cock and that short metal prong that he inserted into my slit. Frying Tonight, as they say in my local chip shop. My brain tends to make light of a situation at times like these, probably protecting me from thinking of the immediate future. My cock has its own thoughts though, hard on complete, that’s one vote for torture then.
If I said my tits were still very sore that would be an understatement, and when he brushed against them with a gloved finger I just knew he was going to use them again. He played with the tips of those fleshy nubs, gently rubbing cold metal clips over them and round the base before the electrode was clamped on each one thrusting the blistering heat back into them from where it had been sitting on the side lines. I trust him. I’ll do this. I think.
Again, nothing.
It starts slowly, ramping up in waves. The controls allow for the pulse to be sent to one set of the contacts, then the other in turn, each one increasing in power as they go. My tits react first. They are still very sore, and the needles of electricity begin to skewer their way through my nipple flesh with fire coated precision. But it’s not a killer. I can control it. I bite the gag. Then the same through my balls, it feels like each one is being pounded whilst at the same time my cock is throbbing to the pulses which transmit through the inside of it, gradually getting more and more forceful. There’s a period where I want it to increase enough so I can cum, but that is short lived.
After a couple of minutes, the electro is strong enough to make me yelp. As it builds, I start to howl in time with the pulses. I can only take a breath if I don’t yell. There’s now very little time between those pulses, and the ball gag doesn’t give much in any direction. My mouth is forced wide open so the spit and drool start flying again to the tune of my agony. He must have it on full power now, fuck, it can’t get worse. And, just as I think things can’t get any worse, I feel the cane hit my arse. The electro pulses are speeding up and lasting longer, the pauses between tit and cock torture are a couple of seconds at most and each pulse lasts about a lifetime. But he’s caning me at the same speed as the electro is frying me. I can’t avoid the pain, it’s literally stuck on to me. Screaming, yelling, pleading, gulping air, I’m falling down that tunnel. The shorter I get of breath, the more I panic. I forget what he said about trust. I can’t do this.
Stuff that. I want, I have, to rise above it, I can and will beat him, it, the whole fucking lot. I yell in anger now. Same noise, same pain, but I’ll show the bastard.
Fuuuuuuuuuuck. He gives my arse a final mighty swipe which sends my head somewhere else, and everything stops.
There’s an insidious power to the electobox, no marks to speak of, but as much pain as surgery without anaesthetic (I presume, he hasn’t tried that one — yet). He’s behind me holding me round the waist, supporting me as the chains slowly lower my arms. I’m fine, I can stand ok. He lowers them halfway then unlocks the spreader bar. I get lowered backward onto the floor, sitting with my arms up and out in front ready to be released. When I’m free of all the bondage and hood I get myself to the bathroom and see to the plug. Boss goes to the kitchen and starts the coffee. I wait in the bedroom propped up on a couple of pillows. In a couple of hours, we’ll ride out together and get some food. I’ll feel every rub of the leathers over my nipples, and sitting on my arse will be fun.
The weekend has started well.
Thanks for writing this great continuation. The last chapter left the readers – like the narrator – hanging. This is a terrific resolution to an intense but intimate scene.
More please, slavebladeboi.
Shame l can’t join you both!