It’s Not Over Till I Say So – Part 02

By slavebladeboi


“Probably” I said looking at his angry face.

“Just Fuck!”

I continued to look at him, red faced and pacing the room.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Greg thumped the table with a tight fist, sat down and then slumped forward with his head in his hands.

“I was thinking of the weeks living with you whining and pleading about wanting a no safe word scene.”

“I could have died in that bloody cellar. You….”

“Oh stop being so dramatic Greg. Of course you couldn’t have died in there. I spent over 9 hours watching you bitch and moan. Do you really think I didn’t know what was happening to you?”

“You’re a bloody sadist”

“ Yeah. And you’re what, some sort of unwilling partner? Get real. I gave you all you asked for. No safe word meant just that to me, or wasn’t that quite what you had in mind. You just wa…

“ I wanted my limits to be pushed not bloody crushed” he spat small globs of saliva as he spoke.

“Ah. So you wanted a no safe word scene that was to end when you said the safe word?”

“You’re an ass hole Kris. You know exactly what I meant. We’ve known each other long enough to know…

“To know what? To know you don’t mean what you say? To know that nearly 5 weeks of you going on and on about wanting to live a scene that was pushing boundaries was simply you wanting a comfortable just over the limit play?” I stood up and walked away from where he was still sitting, his almost tearful and most definitely snot filled face staring at the table surface.

“I wanted, well you must have known what I wanted.”

“I did. Yes. And I gave it to you. A dose of reality. Not some ‘pretend it’s going to be hard but let me out when I say so’ bondage. You asked for what you got. Exactly what you got. Do you think it was easy for me to watch you in there. I only left for the time it took me to piss. And that reminds me. You need to clean up the cellar after you pissed all over the floor too.”

“Fuck off Kris”

“Is this it then? I sat down heavily in front of him. “Is this where we end it?”

He didn’t answer. His shoulders shuddered slightly and I knew he’d hit a wall. The silent tears dripped slowly off his cheeks and he made no effort to wipe them away.

I said nothing, merely watched him as he began to realise where the argument had got to. In all the time we had been together he’d always been the one to want a bit more, a bit more edge play, something that was new and generally pushed things along. I admit I’d never dissuaded him and usually went along with his ideas and, basically, that’s all I had done this time. But I knew that deep down I had wanted him to be hurt, not harmed but hurt, enough to know there were boundaries which it wasn’t always good to cross. Watching him flounder, sweat, moan and finally break in the dark, humid cellar had made me hard and wank frantically several times. I’d shot enjoying his discomfort. I sort of had a conscience at the time but now I knew deep down I was right.

I think.

It had indeed been over nine hours before I relented and called it a day. I’m not sure relented is the right word here, it wasn’t me who’d proposed this ‘ordeal’ in the first place. Actually I was happy to end the predicament earlier or later when I’d had it in mind how long it should actually be, but watching and judging from his body language I was pleased I brought proceedings to a close when I did. He hung loosely from the chain that suspended him more or less on tip toes. He no longer jerked from the electro and his gagged moans were simply gargles from the back of his throat.

I had been sitting quietly in a corner of the cellar for about 45 minutes, watching him and feeling the final warm dampness of the last cum add to the sweat which the humidity in the cellar was making my jeans stick to my thighs. He had no idea I was there and I didn’t want him to find out. But watching, and getting that less than horny feeling you get after an orgasm – well I do anyway – I decided he’d had enough.

I stood behind him and ran my hands up from his waist to his shoulders. He roused and breathed deeply. Supporting him, I unhooked the ceiling chain and lowered him gradually to his knees. I wanted his arms where I could release his wrists slowly. The pain he would have from moving them down from the small of his back was probably going to be intense. As I freed them I saw he didn’t have the strength to hold them in position so I simply held his wrists and very very slowly brought them to his sides. He gave a hoarse yell into the gag and spit dribbled from the corners of his mouth. Then it was simply a case of letting him lie flat as I went about releasing the ball weight, gag, collar and connecting chain.

I massaged him, shoulders, legs, virtually every part of him for 25 or 30 minutes, both of us wet with sweat, me under my t shirt and jeans, him naked and glistening. He said nothing until he sort of turned his head away and simply said “No more.”

I got up and left. I got a couple of hours sleep, which was all there was left of the night and came down to find him sitting in the kitchen about to curse and swear at me.

“You do know you were hard for much of the time don’t you.” I said. “I watched you more or less the whole time and even with your cock ring you’re never usually hard for that long.”

He looked up at me through wet eye lashes.

“So don’t push the ‘you tortured me for no reason’ line too much.

Oh come on Greg. It was hard, ok very hard, and it was a lot worse than you thought but you made it. You’re sore at me, with some justification probably, and your feeling sore round the edges, but you did it. You won. You took it.”

I didn’t add that he had had no choice but left that for him to figure.

“Were you really watching me all that time Kris?”

“Of course I bloody was, you dong. Either in the cellar with you or on the closed circuit. As I said, I took a piss but that was about all. Where do you think I was when I gave you those drinks, out in the hallway?”

I put my hand on his shoulder and this time he didn’t shrug me off.

“Have you slept? “I said.

“Only here” he answered.

“Perhaps we’d be wise to have a couple of hours in bed?”

He didn’t move. I stepped back. Turning he gave a sort of half smile, and rather painfully got to his feet. I hugged him which was when his tears started again.

A lesson for us both I think.


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2 thoughts on “It’s Not Over Till I Say So – Part 02”

  1. I admire the complicated portrayal of the relationship here. The sadist: “EVEN THOUGH I love you, I am going to hurt you and get off on your suffering. BECAUSE I love you, I will tend to you afterward and help you heal.” and the victim’s equally conflicted emotions. Well done!

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