By Aquala Guy
Instructor Gable nodded his consent to the commandant, and went to his locker to retrieve a second set of restraints and a gag. Tomlinson made no move to avoid the restraints. He knew from his own days as a cadet just how restrictive and uncomfortable these restraints could be, and he allowed Gable to tighten them past the point of pain. Everyone was surprised to see Tomlinson achieve a full, throbbing erection as his arms were secured. It was the first time Matthew had ever seen his papa erect, and his eyes lit.
Gable brought the gag up to Tomlinson’s face, and Craig opened his mouth to accept it. “I should piss in my jock and let you gag on that” he said, as he fastened the gag around Tomlinson’s head, buckling it only when he heard the gagged man groan at the tightness and discomfort. Locking the gag, the Commandant and wrestling instructor took the two men who were to be kramtoaded off to their punishment cells.
The kramtoading racks were set up next to each other, side by side. The stench of stale urine filled the cell, as the room was seldom cleaned after a punishment session. Men bound to the kramtoad table had no choice but to urinate from their racks. There were the additional buckets of urine collected throughout the kramtoad room, where stale, sweat soaked jockstraps and compression shorts were left to soak for days, sometimes weeks, awaiting their use on a victim’s head.
Escorted to their respective tables, Matthew and Craig each laid down on their racks without needing to be forced, the boy’s head at his father’s feet, and vice versa. The restraining harnesses were removed, and each man voluntarily reached over his head for the awaiting leather restraints that would soon be stretching their arms out of their shoulder sockets, should they struggle too hard. Matthew’s penis grew to erection, the blinding whiteness of his skin in stark contrast to the mocha darkness of his papa’s. The restraints properly fastened, Gable took Matthew’s ankles while the Commandant took Tomlinson’s. Each man locked down the legs of his charge, and slowly started to stretch them out.
While trying to maintain eye contact throughout their ordeal, eventually each man’s body succumbed to the pain of the rack. Afraid he’d disappoint his father by looking away, nonetheless Matthew was the first to break eye contact as he screamed under the pain of having his limbs stretched. He felt tendons yielding, tearing maybe. He felt the fire in his limbs.
He smelled, rather than saw, the first pair of urine soaked black compression shorts as they were pulled over his head and tied off around his neck. Unable to see now, he felt as the legs were tucked into themselves, forming a seal around his head. The second pair came on and not only he could feel their wetness as the legs again were folded in, but he also felt the cup covering his nose and mouth, almost smothering him. This was an addition he did not know about, did not expect. When the third pair were pulled over his head, it took his full concentration and focus just to breathe. He tried sucking air in around his gag, opening his lips and jaw painfully wider. He was rewarded only with the taste of stale urine filling his mouth.
He heard his papa groaning on the rack next to him, and he felt his heart fill with a heaviness he’d never anticipated. He was responsible for his papa’s suffering, and it was too late for him to do anything about it.
He felt Gable’s hand, as his testicles were slipped through the noose. He felt the noose close on his scrotum, then felt a blinding pain as twenty five pounds were left to drop, jerking hard on his testicles. He heard papa’s agonizing cry, and he knew that the weight had just dropped on his testicles, as well.
Each man lay there, helpless, as their executioner’s grabbed their penises. Slowly, tantalizingly, each of the condemned was brought to orgasm by the man who held his fate … and his penis … in his hands. Their semen was left to sit on their bellies, left to run or dry, but left for them each to feel. Matthew’s semen pooled near his navel, and would run up or down his torso, depending on which way the rack turned when it was engaged. Craig’s semen shot from the base of his crotch all the way up to his neck, spattering all over his torso. The white pools were left to run down his skin, creating an artistic contrast of white on dark.
After orgasm, the commandant spoke. “Cadet Matthew McDonnell you have pled guilty to a jockstrap violation, and have accepted your sentence like a man, a true officer of the Law Enforcement Corps. Your Field Training Officer, corporal Craig Tomlinson, under no coercion or necessity has voluntarily chosen to accompany you in your punishment.
“The proscribed punishment period is normally 72 hours. However, because you voluntarily accepted the next level of punishment up from your mandated punishment, we have no choice. Your Field Training Officer knew this, and he allowed you to make your own decision, as a man should. Voluntarily accepting a punishment level higher than what you had earned is an automatic doubling of the punishment time. For the next 6 days, you and your father will suffer on these kramtoad racks. The weights on your testicles will be increased by 5 pound increments after every three rotations of the rack. As per proscribed penalty phase, those weights, once hung, can only be removed by yourself. As the offender, McDonnell, your weights will remain hanging on your testicles until your father has removed his own. And, as an officer of the LEC, your father knows that he will not be permitted to speak to you or to touch your body until you have removed your own weights.”
Matthew tried to beg, but the gag in his mouth wouldn’t let him. He tried to turn his head towards papa, but it did him no good. His head securely sealed in three layers of urine soaked compression shorts, no light able to penetrate, no fresh air able to penetrate, the only sounds Matthew could hear were the sounds of his papa’s tortured breathing accompanying his own, and the click of the timer as the kramtoad racks were set into motion. Unable to determine which way his papa was being rotated, Matthew learned his fate within the first minutes. He was being turned on his head, first. And he knew, that at the end of each rotation, the sarcophagus on his head would be soaked anew with stale urine.
The knowledge, the reality of his situation struck him, and he screamed. He would scream for the next six days, as would his father, neither man able to do anything but suffer with no hope for mercy.
NOTE: The above is an excerpt from a lengthy novel that Aquala Guy is writing. He’s looking for input. Aquala Guy writes:
It’s not strictly a sex-oriented novel. The sex is not even a secondary part of the story, although it is going to be incorporated. And when I do incorporate it, I want it to be graphic, detailed … ACCURATE.
And the accuracy part is where I have the problem. I can accurately write about what it’s like for a guy to get his balls crushed slowly, because mine have been crushed. I can accurately write about what goes through a guys mind as his piss gag is being used because I’ve had my piss gag used. I can accurately write about what a guy feel when his balls get zapped with by electrodes because I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to be locked in a set of stocks and left, forgotten. (They actually had to cut the lock off to get me out because the keyholder left, forgetting he had me still locked up).
But there are other aspects I can’t write about. I plan on describing punishment segments, with guys stretched out in agony on a rack; hanging crucified with nothing between their feet and the ground but air; getting hung upside down, and other things that aren’t coming to my mind right now. I’m trying to write to allow some of the kinks which I’m not into get a place (for example, fisting).
I’m looking for these punishing forms of what a lot of us in the Leather/rubber/kink community think of as sexual exploits, but I’m not looking for them to necessarily be sexy or sexual … again, I’m not ruling that out, either.
I need to know what it feels like to have a 20 pound weight hanging from your balls, unable to do anything about it, forced to keep it hanging for hours on end without mercy. I need to know what it feels like when a guy has his fist up your ass, or when you have your fist inside another man.
I don’t want to actually *experience* them, although again I am not ruling that out. What I’m looking for is some guys out there in Real World who can put their feelings into words without the sexual aspect behind it. Can you describe to me what it’s like to have a piss gag locked in your mouth and used as a urinal, without the sexual aspect to it? I can, but it would take me some time to look at it objectively and put only the physical, tactical feelings in on it, without the emotional and sensual elements.
To contact Aquala Guy, send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org.