By old boy bill

Chapter 1: Finally Meet

We/we had corresponded on recon and aol for several weeks.  Apparently what HE wanted and what I needed were dead on.  He said He had strong need for control.  As a boi-slave, I needed to be controlled.  He got hard inflicting pain.  I needed pain.  He got turned on by bondage.  I crave bondage, not symbolic or fake, but real straps, a real straight jacket, inescapable until He lets me out.

So, finally a session.  I travel a lot and need to tack sessions onto my trips, either outbound or inbound.  Travel gives me the excuses I need:  “flight cancelled,” “weather delay,” “air traffic control delay.”  They all work at one time or another.  He’s in Baltimore, so I made this biz trip out of BWI.  Told my boss it was cheaper than PHL, Philly, my regular airport.  The session would be held at His house.

I packed all my gear in my black kit bag:  wrist and ankle cuffs (lockable), leather slave collar (lockable), my favorite punishment hood (lockable), as well as a new CD I got which was brutal to wear.  He took a liking to my description:  small metal cock cage, penis tube, ball stretcher, and a large metal ass ball on a metal cantilever to the stuff in front.  Lockable.  Plus some Foley caths and lots of needles.  He said He liked needles.  I’ve had my tits pierced, but I wanted to have my nuts skewered while in bondage.  I also welcomed Him to make a pin cushion out of my ass, if it so pleased Him.

Part of the excitement of this session was the unknown.  In the e-mails we talked about what turned Us/us on, but I didn’t really know what He was going to do.  I gave Him carte blanche within the normal hard limits:  no scars, no scat, no drugs.  I also added that piss was OK.  He said His big turnon was to put on His Leathers and take control and I very much wanted to give Him that gift.  In return I would get bondage and pain, abuse and maybe a good fucking.

But, truth be told, we hadn’t met first, only corresponded.  His pic on recon was dynamite:  confident, relaxed pose, every inch a Master.  He was sitting on a chair wearing leather shorts, a slim leather vest open to show a good chest, and big, sexy black boots.  Only his lower face could be seen; the rest was hidden by a black leather partial face hood and skull cap, I think they’re called “executioner’s hood” or something like that.  His hands lightly cradled his crotch package, which bulged nicely.  I wanted to crawl over to Him, nuzzle his pouch until He let me suck Him off.  Then He would beat me on the back with a whip.

For the session, I had given Him an idea from another Master I suffered under:  slave would knock and enter open door.  Master would be in another room.  Slave strips, locks on wrist and ankle cuffs, slave collar from the kit bag.  Then it straps on a blindfold which had been laid out on the floor by the Master.  Suitably ready, the slave lays on the floor legs straight, arms out in a cross, face to the carpet.

When ready, the Master enters and places His booted foot on the slave’s neck, declaring the boy His slave, working His boot up and down the slave’s back and ass, hurting him, almost standing on the boy, who grunts and groans from the pain.  The cool element here is that the blindfold is never removed, not until the boy is ready to leave – and it gets dressed again in an empty room.  He never sees the Master and has no idea of what the Master actually looks like, other than the recon picture.  It keeps a strong element of mystery to the whole scene.  So that’s what He said would happen.

I get there, park my car in His driveway, and take my kit bag in.  I knock on the front door and enter.  He has left it open.  I walk into an empty foyer, and directly notice the black, leather blindfold on the floor.  Yup, this must be the right place!

I strip down, put the ankle and wrist cuffs on and the slave collar and then apply all the locks to the buckles.  I have the keys color-coded to the locks on a chain, which I put on the floor for Him.  I lay out the punishment hood, the nasty CD, and my offering of a huge variety of syringes and needles.  Then I put the blindfold on and buckle it tightly in the back.  Darkness.  The true world of the slave.

As agreed, I lay down on the floor in a cross shape, my face to the carpet and enter the waiting period.  The house is warm and I start to sweat a bit.  This period of anticipation drives me nuts.  There’s a huge cold knot of fear in my stomach:  what would He be like?  Was He really “safe and intense?”  Just how far would He go in the tortures?  But there’s also the feeling of trust and confidence.  This is critical to safe and sane BDSM.  Frees the slave up to cede control to the Master.

I hear footsteps approach, booted footsteps.  The Master approaches the slave and puts His Boot onto the slave’s neck, grinding down.

“I am your Master, boy.  You are my slave,” He says quietly, moving His Boot up and down my back, grinding the sole into my skin, my ass, my legs, asserting Control.  “I am dressed in My full Leathers.  You are naked.  That’s the way it should be,” He adds, still grinding away.

I groan from the pressure on my back and ass.

He orders the slave to his knees, allows him to nuzzle His crotch, which is still covered by the leather shorts.  Then, when He is ready, he lets the slave suck Him off, directing its head with His Hands.  The Master may or may not cum, His decision.  If He cums, the slave will swallow every precious drop, continuing the suck until the Master ends it.

The Master needs to inflict bondage and pain.  So the slave is spread eagled either hanging from the ceiling in chains or stretched out tight on a bed.  The room is warm and both Master and slave are sweating.  The Master uses a variety of straps and whips on the boy’s back and ass.  It is a heavy beating leaving painful welts.  The Master rubs salt over the bruises to disinfect them and cause the boy more pain.

“Now we’re going to put the special CD on you,” He then announces.

This is one of the Main Events the boy had been anticipating for weeks.  Due to the complexity of the CD, the boi has to put it on.

“You may raise the blindfold just enough to see what you are doing.  If you look any further or look up, the session will end and I will not keep you as a slave.”

“Sir, yes, Sir!” was my standard answer.

He handed me the CD, which was made of heavy metal.  I have one small nut and one very big nut and need to lasso them both with cord to keep them under control.  I wound the black cord around my nuts, looped a double knot, and pulled them out away from my crotch.  Then I slid the ball stretcher bracket over the base of my nut sack and screwed the two bracket parts together.  I had modified the brackets to make the clearance between them smaller, again so the little guy wouldn’t slip out.

Then I swung up the main retention ring and asked Sir to hold the two halves together while I maneuvered the cock cage.  I lubed up the penis tube with antibiotic and slowly slipped the thing onto my cock.  I always enjoy the feel of the penis tube as it forces its way into my urethra.  I modified this also by adding a 3-inch length of plastic tubing so the tube extends even farther.  The cock cage has a metal piece at the top with a hole in it to receive the tabs sticking up from the ring.  Master slips the tabs in and applies the brass lock.  He had the key on a chain around his neck, along with all the other bondage keys.

He reaches over and pulls the blindfold down, shutting out the small slit of sight and returning the boy to its natural, dark environment.

“I’ll put the ass plug in, boy,” He said.

“Sir, yes, Sir!” I reply, spreading my legs and bending over.

He applies some spit to the ball, positions it over my asshole, and roughly shoves the thing home.

I grunt as the big ball forces my asshole muscle open, but the ball goes in – and the incredible sensations from this unique CD flood me.  The ball pulls all the front equipment down and back.  This puts a good stretch on your balls and angles the cock cage down.  It hurts!

 

Chapter 2: Confinement

 

“Now the hood, boy,” He says.  “Kneel down!”

“Sir, yes, Sir!  Sir, thank You, Sir!” I say dutifully.

He drapes the hood over my head, keeping the blindfold on.  This hood is a nasty hood.  It’s called a “punishment hood,” and earns its name.  There are no eye holes, not that that mattered with the blindfold.  There is a small opening for the nose, and a large, thick leather panel which covers the mouth area.  There is a hole in the center of the panel and the hood comes with various sized cock gags.  The punishment part of the hood are the straps:  one across the eyes, one forcing the mouth panel tightly against your head, and the third under the chin and up over the top of your head.  All the straps have buckles at each end and all the buckles are lockable.  All told, there are eight locks.

First, however, the hood has to be laced on.  I had asked Master in one of our e-mails to put the damned thing on as tightly as He could.  That begins with the lacing.  He pulls several crossovers tight and ties them off as He works slowly down the back.  With each tug, the leather hood presses more strongly and snugly against my head.  The sensation is slow, unstoppable confinement.  The periodic knots prevents any slip; the hood was going on the tightest I have ever experienced.  Master was very good at bondage.  He had said bondage turned him on.  Every now and then He pushes His Rock Hard Cock against my shoulders or neck.  The message was clear:  I’m enjoying this, boy, and I know you are too.

Then he pulls the straps brutally tight, putting my head into a vice grip of leather.  I have to close my eyes when the blindfold and eye pads crush in.  The mouth panel straps pull the thick leather panel firmly against my lower face, barely leaving room for my nose to breath.  That was another aspect of the “punishment” part.  Breathing took careful control and attention.  The worst strap, however, was under the chin.  This forces the lower part of your mouth up and makes it very difficult to even swallow.

He attaches all the buckle locks.  I hear faint clicks as each locked guaranteed the hood was going to stay on until He decided to take it off.

Then He decides to face fuck me through the opening in the mouth panel.  I feel His Cock, which barely fits through the hole, fill my mouth.  He thrusts in and out a few times, groaning with pleasure.  I feel good giving my Master pleasure.  But then He decides to continue the bondage.

He pulls His Cock out and replaces It with one of the cock gags.  The gag goes tightly into the hole and attaches on the outside to two metal posts in the leather mouth panel.  The mouth panel strap has to be temporarily relaxed to thread the gag over the posts, but then He pulls it in tight again.  The posts have holes for the final locks.  Eight locks.  Count ‘em, boy, in your head.  You’re fucked!

“Stand up, boy,” He yells at me.

Once the hood was on tight, it was somewhat difficult to hear Him, but when He yelled, I could make out what He wanted.  I get to my feet, immersed in the darkness and confinement of the hood.  He steadies me with His Hand.

“I’m going to put some needles in those big tits of yours.  Stand firm and take it!” he says.

I again mumble “Sir, yes, Sir!” producing nothing but muffled gurglings.

He pinches and rubs each of my tits until they were erect.  Then the needles go in.  Hurts like hell, but I stand firm.

“I’m putting some duct tape over the needles.  Don’t want them to snag and tear,” he says.

I hear sections of tape being ripped off a roll and then he presses them to my chest, covering the needles and my nips.

“Now the straight jacket I promised you,” He says.

“Sir, yes, Sir!  Sir, thank You, Sir!” I say, but the words are totally garbled by the cock gag.

“Hold out your arms, boy!” He orders.

“Sir, yes, Sir!” is my muffled reply.  Sounds like “uhr! umm, uhr!”

I feel the soft leather of the SJ slip across my skin.  The arms are tapered and the leather tightens as the main body panel pushes against my chest.  Then He begins closing the SJ around me.  There were several straps in the back, maybe six in all.  I feel each one drawn in tight and buckled off.  The leather pulls across some of the strap bruises on my back.  Then he goes through another round and takes each strap in one more hole.  More pain from the welts.  The SJ completely compresses my torso.  There are minor breathing problems, in that I can’t take in a deep breath.  But the tightness compounds the breathing problems with the hood.  My breathing is loud in my head and I could hear my blood rush.  I also started to sweat.

My arms are now crossed over my chest, further tightening the leather.  That’s the step that really tells you you are in for a difficult confinement.  A SJ is not forgiving in the slightest when it’s put on as tightly as He did.  He pulls the arm ends together behind my back, tugs to get them tight, and straps them off.  I feel several keeper straps going around my arms in the front.

The crotch straps are next.  He threads them up between my legs, pulls in tightly, and buckles them off in front.  Every fucking strap is tight.  And THIS bondage was truly inescapable.  The locks on the hood seemed silly in light of the fact that my arms are encased in strapped-in-tight leather.  I can hear the locks rattling if I move my head.  The locks do add to the idea of inescapability.  I feel like I was descending deeper and deeper into a pit.  This was going to get worse.  But, then again, that’s what He wants and that’s what I want.

He grabs my arms and orders me to follow Him.  He moves slowly so I wouldn’t topple over or lose my balance.  I feel the backs of my legs push against something.  From the height, it feels like the seat of a chair.

“Sit down carefully,” He yells at me.

I plop down onto the chair, pushing the ass ball of the CD high up my rectum.  My balls press against the chair seat, which feels wooden, and I groane from the jolt of pain.

Then He straps several belts around me, securing me to the chair.  Three go around my upper body, pushing me firmly against the chair back.  Then he moves my knees way apart and straps my lower legs to the legs of the chair.

I think I hear another chair being pulled up in front of me; not sure.  But then Master lifts up my stretched balls.  They can’t move very far due to the ring and ass ball holding the stretcher part fairly firm.  He pulls them out farther and I feel something being inserted under them, holding them in the stretched position.  Feels like a piece of wood.

 

Chapter 3: Needlework

 

“Now for the special treat, boy,” Master says to me.

“Before we start, I need to know if you’re OK, boy, in the bondage so far,” he adds.

I nod my head.  I can’t tell you how gratifying this check in is.  All the good Masters do it, especially when the slave is bound up and gagged.  Yeah, it “breaks the scene” a tad, but, WTF, we all know BDSM is a dangerous game to begin with.  He said He specialized in “safe and intense.”  I was in the middle of “intense,” and it was good to also feel “safe.”  Once the slave knows the Master is being truly careful, the boy is free to get immersed in the “scene.”  I also had discussed with Him the idea of “no safe word.”  This truly frees both Master and slave, but still needs the periodic check in.  After all, got to keep the slave healthy for more torture.

Then He continues:  “I have always wanted to run needles through a slave’s nuts and now I’m getting the chance to do it,” he says, more loudly this time.  His voice is dripping with lust.

I stiffen when I hear His plans.  We had talked about this.  He wanted to do it, I wanted it done, but I am still terrified.

I had brought with me several needle and syringe sizes.  I had no idea what He was going to use, but it wasn’t long before I feel a sharp pin prick on my right nut, the larger of the two.  It’s zero hour.

He slowly pushes the needle in.  I can feel every millimeter of its penetration through my testicle.  I scream into the cock gag; the pain is terrible.  “Agh!  A-a-a-g-g-h-h!” which comes out as a muffled “Ah!  A-a-a-h-h-h!”

The needle emerges from the other side of my ball and seems to stick into whatever is under my poor ball sack.  (Found out later is was a piece of balsa wood, covered in blood).

Then he moves the needle back and forth, further agonizing my testicle.  I scream and struggle, scream and struggle.  By now my head and torso are soaked in sweat under the leather bondage.  The struggling was futile, of course, but there’s some basic instinct that makes you try to escape the torment.  I tense every muscle in my body.

Like the good Master He was, he stops and asks me if I was OK.  I nod my hooded head the best I can to indicate that I am indeed OK and want the torture to continue.

Then he starts on a second needle, this one into my shriveled left nut.  More screaming, more struggling, more agony.  Jesus, the needles really hurt.  I had no idea!  Some he plunges in fast; that produces a very sharp pain.  Most he pushes in very slowly, prolonging the pain, prolonging the terror.  It is unbelievable.  He moves the needles back and forth, intensifying the pain.  A few times he flicks his finger at the outer ends of the needles, sending lightning jolts of pain into my poor nuts.

I am sweating hard, breathing hard, pulling against the bondage hard, and mm in the sea of pain He has created.  This is His gift to the slave boy.

Finally He stops with the needles in my nuts and again checks in.

“Still OK, boy?” he asked.

I again nod, but it takes all my willpower to agree to continue.  I should have known what was coming next.

I feel a sharp pin prick on my cockhead.  My dick was trying desperately to get hard, but the tight cage pretty much shut down the whole sequence.  I feel my cock skin pressing against the metal cage, and I realize he is going to skewer my dick with more needles.  OMG, this is going to be rough!

And rough it is.  He sticks pin after pin through my dick, some more in the cockhead, most along the shaft.  Each one sends a jolt of electricity from my crotch.  The pain is intense, but I will myself to take it, to endure it, for my Master’s pleasure.  Of course, I scream a lot and continue to pull stupidly against the straps holding me to the chair.

Then He stops.  I think I hear a camera snapping, not sure.  But there is a break from further intense pain.  The pins already there make my cock and balls throb, ache in a scary way that says your basic sex plumbing has been attacked.  You’re screwed, boy, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“I’m going to take a break, boy,” he says after the picture taking.  “Are you OK?” he again asks.

I nod vigorously.  Yes I am not only OK, I am in fuckin’ slave heaven!  Bound and gagged, locked into an unbelievably painful CD, a big frickin ball up my ass, and my cock and balls pinned to a piece of wood like some bug collection.

I continue to sweat, however.  The hood and SJ leather are tight and hot.  I still struggle a bit, whenever a sudden wince of pain shoots from my crotch.  I wonder how bloody my gonies were.  I wonder how long He will be gone.  I wonder what He will do next.  That’s the downside to being a slave in bondage:  you got a lot of mental time to worry about your situation.  You review all the pains you have been subjected to so far and wonder what’s next.

 

Chapter 4: A Strapping

 

I lose track of time, stewing there, bound to the chair, drowning in sweat.  My cock and balls still ache and if I move my body the slightest, hurt all over again.  So I have to keep myself totally still, focus on breathing, focus on the cold ball of ice in my stomach from fear of what else He was going to do, but also feel the fire in the blood that only a slave in tight bondage can feel.  He was the Master indeed.

Then I hear noises and realize He is back.  He comes over to me and plays with the needles again, making me scream and struggle in the SJ and straps.  Then he starts to take them out, some slowly, some quickly.  This part of the torture doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.  Then all the needles are out and he removes the piece of wood under my tortured nuts.  They drop to the chair seat, sending a jolt of pain.  Guess they would be tender for a bit.

I feel the chair straps being loosened and soon I am free of that particular bondage.  He helps me stand up and then guides me somewhere.  Let me tell you, being blindfolded and hooded is a total trip!  You have no idea of what’s going on.  Even tell tale sounds are muffled.  And the straight jacket says:  boy, you’re fucked!  There is no way you are getting out of this until He allows it.  And you have no idea what He has in mind.

He did unstrap my arms from across my chest, and it is a relief when they drop to my sides.  He slowly guides me across the concrete, saying nothing.  Then I bump into something wooden.  He moves me a few inches to the right and then puts pressure on my upper back, indicating I was to bend over.

My chest hits a horizontal pad and my arms, as they dangle down, feel vertical supports of some type.  It feels like I am draped over a small bondage bench.  He secures my legs and arms to the legs of the bench with multiple straps, and then adds two across my back.  He pulls these in especially tight, again cramping my breathing.  The metal cock cage butts against one end of the bench; my balls still ache.  And I have to hold my head up or the slave collar would dig into my chin.  The hood straps are still locked on as tight as ever and I start to sweat all over again.

He doesn’t say a word.  I can feel His Hard Dick brushing across my ass.  Feels like He had a really big Cock.  Then I feel something being brushed against my skin, something flexible, flat.  A strap, maybe?  There is a quick whoosh of air, a sharp crack as the strap hits my ass, followed by an explosion of pain.  I still have the gag in place, so my screams are still muffled.

I am surprised when I feel him unlocking the gag on my hood’s leather mouth panel.  Then He eases the gag out of my mouth.  It’s followed by tons of drool which had built up in my mouth.

“Sir, thank You, Sir!” I manage to say.

“Oh, there’s nothing to thank me for,” He says.  “I’m taking the gag out so I can hear you screaming better.  The dungeon down here is totally sound-proof, so feel free to scream.”

I was going to again thank Him, but I hear the second whoosh of air and prepare myself for the stab of pain from my ass.  “A-a-g-g-h-h!” I scream.  It does feel more satisfying to scream without a gag; the screaming somehow helps handle the pain.

Another quick lash with the belt.  Another “A-g-h!!” tears from my mouth.  I strain and struggle on the bench, pulling stupidly against the straps and accomplishing nothing except making me sweat some more in the hood and SJ.

Another, another, and another!  Scream!  Scream!  Scream!  I feel like a robo-slave:  He slashes my ass with the belt, I scream bloody murder and jolt like a puppet in the bondage.  I’ve never been strapped like this, I mean, with both a hood and SJ on.  Have to say, I asked for bondage, He delivered in spades.  In a crazy way I was happy for the tight bondage.  He had indicated that turned Him on and I was happy to give that gift to Him.

God, my ass hurts!  I lose track of the number of strokes, but my ass cheeks are now totally on fire.

He stops the strapping and I feel Him moving the metal arm connecting the ball stretcher on my CD to the ass ball.  Boom!  He pulls the metal ass ball out and unscrews the metal arm from the front of the CD.

This is followed by a few more strap lashes as my brain, saturated with pain, still realizes that there is likely a fucking in my future.

Then He stops the lashing and runs His Fingers over my bruised and likely bleeding ass (it wasn’t, I found out later; He was very good with the strap and the whip:  welts galore, but very little bleeding).  Then I feel his big Cockhead.  I can tell what It was from the engorged hardness.  There’s no other feeling  slave recognizes better than the Master’s Cockhead poised to ram home.

“Oh, yes, boy,” He says loudly.  “I liked that strapping!  You got me very, very hot right now and I think I need some release!”

 

Chapter 5: Merit Fuck

 

He moves His Cockhead up and down my crack, now sweaty from all the struggling.  I can feel it between my bruised cheeks.  Then He pulls out for a second and when He put His Cock back in, I feel the slippery lube.

He centers over my asshole and pushes eagerly.  Then He grunts and pushes really hard, blasting through my hole muscle with His Big Cockhead.  He continues to grunt as He thrusts the rest of His Tool up my ass, not so gently.  I feel His arousal and lust.  I feel like I am being assaulted by a Real Master, Who took what He wanted from His slaves.

Then His Pube Hair scratches against my skin and I feel His Hips.  The scratching rubs against raw skin and I jolt from this extra pain.  Plus, His Cock is long.  Remember, I hadn’t ever seen It yet, maybe I never would with the blindfold.  But I did suck it off and It certainly was big then!

OK, so now the thrusting starts in earnest.  The Master is going to fuck His slave.  The gift of the Man’s Cock to a slave was very gratifying.  It said:  “You did good, boy.  Here’s one of your rewards!”

The speed picks up.  I gather this was not going to be what they call a “leisurely fuck.”  He was aroused, hot, and needed to get His Rocks off up the boy’s ass.  He grunts loudly now.  He has His Hands on one of the SJ’s leather back straps and is using the strap as a fuck tool.  He moves His Cock from side to side, churning my guts.  I moan along with Him.  I also yelp a few times when His Dick hits some nerves up my ass.

I know THIS WAS IT when He really starts to fuck me hard.  He is going wild, fucking a newly bruised ass, fucking a piece of meat totally strapped down in tight bondage.  He said this was what He wanted and the boy was very happy to provide it.

Then He peaks.  “Ya!  Ya!  Ya!” he yells, bucking me hard, pulling like a Wildman on the SJ straps He is holding.  I can feel His Dick spurt inside me, another Gift from the Master.  He continues to fuck my ass, even as His Dick was softening.

Then He sort of collapses onto my back, draping his arms around mine and breathing hard with His Head right next to mine.

He stays there for several minutes.  Both of us are “spent,” Him from a good cum, the slave from the beating and the fucking.  I am drenched in sweat.  My ass aches from the recent torture.  AND my balls still ache from the needling.

 

Chapter 6: Pin Cushion

 

He finally raises His Chest from on my back.  He moves away from the bench, I guess.

“Are you still OK, boy?” He asks, moving His Head next to mine so I could hear Him through the leather hood.

“Sir, yes, Sir!  Sir, thank You, Sir! I answer, although my mouth is dry.

I was concerned about what else He had planned.  We/we had discussed several other things, but I had no idea of what order He might use – or if He would use any of the stuff, opting for something totally different instead.  That’s the really cool thing for a slave:  the uncertainty generates a real element of fear, a cold knot in the belly, but the certainty and trust that the Master was totally safe and sane made it easy to just let go, cede control to Him, for whatever He wanted.

But my thoughts are interrupted when I suddenly feel a sharp slap to my ass.

“Y-e-e-o-o-o-w-w-w!” I cry out at the sudden pain.

“Ha!” He laughs.  “That’s only the beginning, boy!” He threatens.

As I just said, I have no idea what He was referring to, other than fearing what else He might have in store.  I don’t have to wait long.

“I need to get hard, again, boy,” He says, gently rubbing his hand over my hooded head.  “And there’s more needle work I planned to do to you,” He adds.

OK, boy, I realize.  That’s what’s next.  Pin cushion, I’ll bet.  I told Him to feel free to make my ass into a total pin cushion for His Pleasure.  I didn’t know what size needles He would use, of course; that was part of the fear element.  I had brought some pretty thick gauge needles, some of them over 2” long.  Jesus, that would really hurt!  I also had some smaller pins, the ones holding a new shirt in place on the cardboard holder.  I had a bunch of them.

I think He starts off with some narrow, short ones.  He pushes the pin in sharply, takes it out, pushes it into another location, and keeps repeating this several more times until He finally let it stay in.  Then He does the same thing with another needle, using it to make half a dozen sticks before embedding it in my ass cheek.

I grunt.  The pricks hurt, but it isn’t agony.  Then the pain rams up; guess He changed to a thicker needle.  “Ah!” I yell at some of the nastier sticks.

Then it really starts to hurt and I start to scream:  “A-a-g-h-h!” reverbs in the dungeon room, scream after scream.

“Oh, yes!” He starts to yell as He continues to imbed the needles, deeper into my ass cheeks.

I scream with every thrust now.  But I am startled when He stops pricking my ass with the needles, but, instead, I feel his engorged Cockhead again moving up and down my ass crack, seeking out my hole.

Was He going to fuck me with the needles still in?  That would be awful!  We/we didn’t talk about that!

 

Chapter 7: Needle Fuck 

 

When He again forces His Cockhead through my hole, I know the worst was going to happen.  He is going to keep the needles in!

I yell in panic:  “No, no!  Stop!  Take them out!”

But I don’t use the safe word, which was “yellow light.”  That would have meant to stop and check how I was going, that I was getting overwhelmed and needed some rest.  “Red light” meant genuine distress, take me out of the bondage, game over.   I was actually going to try to endure a fucking with needles all over my ass.  I also realized He was pushing my limits, which every Master must really take pleasure in doing.

This time, when His Cock is all the way in and His Hips hit my ass cheeks, it was total agony.  I screamed like it was the end of the world.  He was pushing against maybe a dozen or so needles, moving them around in my ass flesh.  The pain is incredibly intense – but I realize He is right.  He thought I could take it and I agreed to accept this new, unanticipated level of pain.

This fuck was even quicker than the last one.  He rapidly hits high gear.  He told me later He was totally primed with the idea of fucking a slave with needles in its ass and He couldn’t restrain Himself from a quick cum.

He yells His pleasure.  I yell from the searing pain in my ass.  I can even feel my dick pressing against the metal cock cage, trying to respond to the situation.  Doesn’t work.  The cock cage is too small.

My ass is on fire!  He gives three intense hips thrusts, yells along with me, and then it was over

This time, He doesn’t stay inside me.  He pulls out, moves His Hips away from my ass, and then collapses onto my back, breathing heavily just like last time.  This time He puts His Arm around my hooded head.  I hear Him murmuring:  “Good boy.  Good boy,” as He pats me on the top of my head.  I am very proud at that moment to be His slave.  My ass cheeks and asshole throb with pain, a reminder of the gift I had just given to my most special Master.  I also feel His Jism oozing from my asshole, the gift He has given to His slave.

 

Chapter 8: Respite

 

He lays on my back for a long time.  It was a very special moment and I appreciate His lingering.  He keeps  His Hand on my head, occasionally rubbing my hooded scalp.

Then it’s over.  He gets up and I feel Him removing all the needles from my poor ass cheeks.  This doesn’t take long; He pulls them all out quickly.  Then I feel something like a coarse powder being rubbed on my ass and it instantly stings.  It’s salt.  He’s cauterizing the needle wounds, as well as making His slave feel more pain.

i yell from the intense stinging, but it doesn’t last long.  Then He unstraps me from the bondage bench and helps me straighten up.  It feels good to stand up after being strapped over the bench for such a long time.

“You did good, boy,” He says to me.  “Exceeded My expectations, in fact.”

“Sir, thank You, Sir!” I intone.

“I think we both need a beer break,” He says to me, putting His Hand on my shoulder.  “What do you say to that, boy?”

“Sir, that would be excellent, Sir!  Sir, thank You, Sir!” I respond.  He’s right, this would be a good time for a break.  I know I’m shredded!

I feel him begin to remove the SJ.  This takes a while; there are so many straps.  He pulls the bondage garment off my arms.  I suddenly feel a little cold, after having been immersed in hot sweat for so long.

Then He begins the elaborate process of unlocking and unbuckling the hood straps.  This also takes a while.

The hood comes off.  My head now feels cold.  Same deal, used to hot sweat for the past 2 (?) hours.  He does not remove the blindfold, but checks the security of the buckle behind my head.

“No, the blindfold stays on,” He says to me.

“Sir, yes, Sir!  Sir, thank You, Sir!” I answer, as required.

“I am going to lead you to my kitchen upstairs.  Don’t worry, I will guide you up the steps.  We will take a break up there.  I have some items to review with you,” He says.

“Sir, yes, Sir!  Sir, thank You, Sir!” is my answer.  That is the only proper answer a slave can give.

He grabs my right arm and gently directs me.  We go up some stairs.  He is very careful to ensure I don’t stumble.  What a caring Master! I think to myself.

At the top of the stairs We/we walk a distance and then He glides me onto a chair.  I wince and grunt as my bruised ass cheeks hit the padded seat.  My aching balls, still stretched out, are pressed into the seat cover.  I hear two brewskies being uncapped and He hands me one.

“You will continue to address Me as ‘Sir,’ of course, but I want you to know you can talk freely now.  We are taking a break from the Master/slave scene,” He says to me.

I hear a chair being pulled out.  Presumably He is sitting close to me.  I take a long swig from the beer bottle.  God, it tastes good!  My mouth is parched from screaming and the gag, and the beer is an incredible treat.

“So, boy, you’ve been through our first scene,” He says in a very friendly manner.  “Did you enjoy it?”

“OMG, Sir,” I say.  “It was one of the best scenes the boy has ever been through, Sir!” I honestly answer.

“Good, good,” He replies.  “I enjoyed it, too.  How was the pain level, boy?  Excessive?” He asks.

“Well, Sir,” I answer, “You did push the boy’s limits, Sir”  [The slave cannot use the word “I” in the presence of the Master].  “And the boy thanks You for checking in, Sir.  That really upped the slave’s confidence and trust, Sir.  The boy totally let go, Sir,” I add.

“Well, I did promise you ‘safe and intense,’” He says.  “Did I deliver?”

“OMG, Sir, in spades, Sir!” I answer.

He laughs:  “Ha!  That’s good to hear!”

There is a period of silence.  I drink more beer.

“Are you hungry, boy?” He asks.

“Sir, no, Sir!” I answer truthfully.  I had cleaned out my ass before the session and the last thing I wanted now was food.  I did enjoy the beer, though.

“We had talked about some medical scenes,” He says.

“Sir, yes, Sir!” I answer.  “Sir, I brought the foley caths with me, Sir.  You indicated You were interested in them, Sir.”  It really was strange talking with Him, but still blindfolded.  Totally diabolical.  All I had was the recon picture in my head.  That alone was impressive, but I really wanted to see Him, especially in His Leathers.

“Yes,” He replies.  “My previous boy was interested in them but We/we didn’t get a chance to try them out.  Are you game?”

“Sir, absolutely, Sir!” I answer, again truthfully.  Medical scenes have always been one of my turn ons.  I wasn’t sure of what He had in mind, though.  We/we hadn’t fleshed that out in our e-mailings.

Let me describe the unique feeling I have at this moment.  There is always a big element of fear in any BDSM session.  I mean, is the Guy really safe and sane?  You simply never know.  At this point, however, my trust level was 100%.  He had tortured me brutally, but nothing We/we hadn’t talked about.  The big factor was that He had checked in with me periodically as He escalated the tortures and abuse.  That sort of clinched it in my mind that I could cede total trust and total control to Him. At that moment the slave still feels fear – you simply don’t know what’s next, other than it will be painful.  But you can also freely give in to the fear knowing that you are in the Hands of a True Master.  He had promised “safe and intense.”  And now I knew that’s what I was going to get.  It’s a unique moment in the Master/slave relationship and I cherished it deeply.  This Guy was Special!

“Do you need a rest?” He asks.  “Maybe a nap?”

“Sir, absolutely not, Sir!  Sir, the boy is raring to go, Sir!” I respond.

He laughs again, but says nothing further for a while.  I finish off my beer and He takes the bottle from me.

 

Chapter 9: Medical Prep

 

We/we sit there a few minutes in total silence.  I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I just sat there awaiting action on His part.  The beer had tasted good, but my head was still quite clear.  Takes more than one to get the boy buzzed.  Alcohol and BDSM is never a good combination.

I hear His chair creak, interpreting this that He got up.  Then He grabs one of the D-rings in my slave collar and indicates I should get up, which I do.

“We/we are now back in Master/slave role,” He says to me.  “Mind your manners!”

“Sir, yes, Sir!” the boy answers.

Guiding me carefully, we go down the steps to the dungeon again.  I can immediately feel the warmth of the room at the bottom of the steps.

He guides me somewhere and then We/we stop.  My hip is touching something which feels like a leather or vinyl pad of some sort.

He guides me onto the pad and I lay down on my back against an angled pad .  The earlier welts throb when they touch the slick pad fabric.  My ass, however, is not touching anything.  He indicates I need to move a few inches over, which I do.  Then the bondage starts.

My arms are hanging down along the sides of whatever thing I’m on.  He lifts each up in turn, positions it against a rigid, metal holder of some type, which extends out horizontally to the sides, and then straps my arms to the metal.  He threads a short rope through D-rings in my wrist cuffs and ties the ropes off.

Then He lifts each leg way up into an angled metal holder, like stirrups.  My legs are spread widely apart and then strapped to the metal holder.  Feels like a medical examination bench, modified with restraints, with the focus on my crotch and ass.  I’m still wearing the metal cock cage, retainer ring, and ball stretcher.  At least He didn’t put the metal ass ball back in after He fucked me.

Two final belts:  one across my chest, just under my pecs; the second one across my lower stomach, a few inches above my cock.  He pulls these in surprisingly tight, especially the stomach strap.  Hurts, even, it’s so tight.

I feel Him unscrewing the penis plug from the metal cock cage.  It screws into a hole at the very front of the cock cage.  He slowly pulls the plug out.  It’s been a while since a had a good pee, so I guess I was ready for what came next:  the catheter.

He had asked for instructions for inserting the catheter via e-mail before We/we met, and I detailed each step of the insertion, first of which is lubing up the wide tube (I had brought a half dozen 24 French caths, the widest they make).  I didn’t know what He was doing until I felt the cath tip penetrate my piss slit.  It’s a wild sensation as the cath is slowly threaded up your dick.  It goes in all the way to the bladder.  You can feel it pass through the bladder entrance by a slight resistance the bladder muscle exerts.  And you have to have a towel ready because once the cath is in the bladder, any piss there shoots out uncontrollably.  Which it does.  Then you push the cath in another 4 to 6 inches.

The Foley has a small bulb at the tip which can be inflated.  I had ordered caths with the larger bulb size, 30 cc, and told Him to fill up a syringe with 30 cc water, connect it to the auxiliary port at the outboard end of the cath, and then inject the water to fill the bulb.  I can feel him doing this, and once the bulb is filled, He pulls on the cath until the bulb seals firmly against the bladder opening.

At this point the slave no longer has control of his bladder.  There are options at this point.  I also brought leg pouches which can hold several hours of piss.  Some Masters like to put the cath outlet into the slave’s mouth for direct recycle.  Some just let it drain into a jar on the floor – for future use.

There are other, more painful options also.  The cath can be used to inject stinging fluids into the bladder, or even beer.  You can block off the exit of the cath, trapping piss and gas inside.  As the beer warms up, the gas builds up tremendous pressure to pee – which is denied by the Master for as long as He wants.  The pain can get really intense.  Plus, you have the humiliation of having no control over your own bodily function.  I don’t know what He is going to do – clearly part of the torture.

Then I feel something probing my asshole, something rubbery.  It’s wide, but not as bad as the metal asshole ball I had in for the past few hours.  He pushes harder and the thing slips up into my ass.  I’m not even sure what it was.  Small dildo?  Electro plug?

Then I feel something expanding just inside my asshole, something like a bag or bladder getting inflated.  Ah ha!  It’s a Bardex enema plug.  These things have inflatable bulbs on the inside and outside of your asshole and when they are both inflated, the enema tube is firmly sealed into your gut.  Nothing gets in and nothing can leave except by way of the tubing.

He inflates the inner bag quite a bit; it starts to generate shit-pressure on my colon.  Then I feel the outer bladder being filled up with air.  As it inflates, it pulls on the inner bulb until there is a very tight seal on my asshole – just what the Bardex was designed for.

Then the enema torture begins.  I feel a surge of very cold water shoot up my rectum.  It cames in fast and my gut swells up fast.  First you feel increased pressure to crap.  Just the inner bulb alone created this, but the extra fluid magnifies it something awful.  You try to relieve the pressure, but you can’t.  You will your ass to shit, but nothing happens – except the pressure gets worse by the minute as more fluid is forced in.

Then I feel the same kind of pressure in my bladder; He was shooting water up the cath.  The pressure turns to pain which progresses to agony very quickly.  And the humiliation is that you can’t do a thing about it; He has control of two of your three holes.

I start to groan as the pain mounts and then I feel something being forced into my mouth.  It was another gag, this one a wide cock gag which filled my mouth.  OMG, I thought, now he controls all three major holes.  I’m fucked!  And I’m trapped in strap bondage to this damned exam table.

Of course I also start to struggle against the bonds – stupid but predictable slave move.  Master had told me He likes to see His vics struggle.  He’s put them in inescapable bondage, so the whole thing is pointless, but He does like to see them strain!  He said it re-emphasizes His Total Control of the slave.

Suddenly the pressure in my bladder is relieved; liquid was shooting out through the catheter.  The relief didn’t last long.  More liquid is shot in, coolish this time.

“Yeah, slave, now you’re getting some beer – only I don’t think you’ll like this brand,” He said devilishly.  He was right, as always.  The beer fills my bladder and I feel the pressure to pee.  The cath was crimped off, however, and nothing comes out.  The beer slowly warms up inside me and the true nature of the torture is revealed:  as the gas builds up, so does the pressure to pee.  It is very uncomfortable, and then actually painful.

Then he goes to work on my ass again, shooting in more cold liquid.  I guess my abdomen is bulging now; feels like a gallon of liquid was in there.  That hurst, especially as the stomach strap was on so tightly.

When you’re blindfolded, the other senses are heightened.  So it was with me:  I was aware of everything touching my body.  I feel something slimy and sticky being pushed against my lower abs.  There are several, four?  Don’t know.  He applies tape over them.

Then I realized the pads were for electro-stim.  On His orders I had brought with me the TENS unit I’ve used for years.  It’s a lot of painful fun and I have a variety of electrodes.  One problem I found was that with a metal cockcage, it’s hard to get a good stimulation of the cockhead; there’s just too much metal.  Don’t forget, in electro-stem the smaller the electrode, the nastier the current.  He knew this, too, for the next sensation is something being slipped up my dick alongside the cath.  It’s a bare wire, which I had told Him was a good way to get a strong shock to the dickhead even with a metal cock cage on.

I scream when he plunges two needles into my nuts, which are still stretched out and aching from the previous needle torture.  The gag turns my scream into an incoherent gurgle, but it still feels good to scream.  I can feel something being clipped to the needles and the realization blazes across my brain that He was going to use the nut needles as the other electrodes.  OMG, I’ve never tried that before.  How much would it hurt?  I had no idea – but seeing I was strapped down pretty tightly on the exam table, guess I would find out shortly.

Then He pulls the duct tape from over my nips.  The original needles are still there.  Again I feel something getting attached or clipped to the needles – more wires, no doubt.  He is going to give me a full electro treatment:  cock and balls, abs, and now nips.  The TENS only has two outputs, so I didn’t know what the third power source was going to be.

OK, I thought, so I’m all wired up now.  Any moment He’s going to start the electro and any moment now I’ll start screaming.

But that does not happen.  I grow increasingly apprehensive, stewing there in the bondage, wired up, nowhere to go.  He told me later that letting me just hang there, suspended between being prepared for torture and the actual start of the pain, was a good form of torture itself.  The slave’s nerves are on edge.  Apprehension mounts.  I start to sweat again, the knot of fear revisits my stomach.  The pressure in my bladder and gut transitions from uncomfortable to pain.  But I realize this pain was nothing compared to what was going to happen any second now.

Then, unexpectedly, it starts.  I feel the tingling in all the electrodes as they are activated.  Low level electro feels good, actually.  It stimulates the muscles and feels good on your cock.  The sensation of “vibration,” which is how I feel mild electro, is kind of cool.  My dick, in fact, starts to try to get hard, which pushes the shaft and cockhead against the metal bars of the cock cage.  Ouch.

He ups the current and the surge starts to hurt.  From a pleasant vibration, the vibration is now a painful stinging.  He goes higher and the pain gets intense; I start to groan and yelp from the pain in my crotch and my nipples.  I pull on the straps.  Yup, they are tight.

Another jump in current.  I yell and struggle, it really hurts now.  “U-u-h-h!”

Then a big jump in the electro level.  It makes me scream and throw my head back in agony.  “A-a-g-g-h-h!  No-o-o-o!  A-a-g-h-h!” tears from my lips, but is garbled by the gag.  It’s brutal.  He’s brutal.  He thoroughly enjoys torturing men, taking them to the breaking point, proving HE is The Master and they are worms in His total Control.

Then He varies the current levels in the different electrodes.  He also changes the frequency.  Sometimes it was a low, throbbing pain.  Then He ups it to intense stinging.  Then a steady buzz, followed by back to the spaced out pulses.  The pain plays with your body.  The changes in electro levels plays with your mind.

I lose track of time.  Sounds like a cliché, but it’s true.  You get into a zone where you are immersed in the pain, nothing else exists except the punishing torture in your body.  He varies it to keep you focused, make sure you are aware of every element He is inflicting on you.  You scream, struggle, pull against straps like a crazy person, scream some more.  Sometimes you start to cry.

My crotch is on fire.  The electro to my nuts by way of the needles is excruciating and my cockhead is throbbing from the current.  My pecs are involuntarily spazing and the current stings my nipples severely.

On and on the torture goes.  My throat is now hoarse from screaming and the straps are starting to chaff against my skin.  The “zone” I thought I was in is getting a little fuzzy around the edges.

Then it stops.  The pain, the electricity, the vibration, even the screaming.  It gets very quiet and still.  I am left breathing real hard to catch my breath.  Maybe I hear some pictures being taken, maybe I don’t.  Doesn’t matter.  I just hang there in the bondage, very proud of my Master, very pleased with what He has given me:  wave after wave of purifying pain.

I feel Him pat me on the top of the hood.

“Good boy,” He says.  “You did good, boy.”

That is a slave’s ultimate praise, at least verbally.  He removes all the electrodes.  The nut needles hurt going out.  He leaves the nip needles in but disconnected the wire clips.  He left the cath up my dick, but deflated the Bardex bulbs in my ass.  When He pulled the enema plug out, I couldn’t help myself.  There was a gusher of liquid.  He told me later He used a special bucket to capture all the mess from my ass, and then dumped it down the toilet.

Then He helped me off the exam bench.  From the feel of it I realized I was back on the fuck bench.  After restrapping me to the bench, He gave me a slave’s ultimate gift:  He fucks me long and hard.  It was fantastic!

 

Chapter 10: Goodbye, boy

 

After He came, He pulls out and gives me one last, hard slap across the ass.

“Sir, thank You, Sir!” I say, hardened into my slave role.

He unstraps me from the bench and helps me up.  Following His guidance, I walk a bit and feel myself in a much cooler room.

“You will wait two minutes, boy, and then remove the blindfold, and all the other stuff.  You will pack up your stuff, except for the chastity device and all the needles.  I will keep the CD here and use it on other boys, as well as put the needles to good use.  Take your cuffs and collar.  And the hood.  The keys to the locks are on the floor.  Leave Me the key to the CD.”

He puts His Hand on my shoulder.  “Good bye, boy.  You did good.  I enjoyed this.  I might consider another session.”

“Sir, thank You, Sir!” was the only reply I can make.

I hear a door close behind me, but I wait about two minutes and then follow His orders.  Luckily the room was not too bright when I remove the blindfold.  It was the same room I initially entered hours earlier.  I feel like I have finally returned to planet Earth after visiting planet Pain.  My whole body hurts as I bend down to lay the folded blindfold on the floor and pick up the keys.  My nips and nuts ache from the abuse.  I unlock the CD and carefully take it off.  What a relief!  That thing is a torture all by itself.  I can see why He’d want to use it on other boys.  I remove its key from the chain and leave it on the floor beside the gleaming metal device.

I pack up the cuffs, collar, and hood in my black kit bag and open the front door.  The daylight outside blinds me for a few seconds.  Before I close the front door to His house, I yell back in:  “Sir, yes, Sir!  Sir, thank You, Sir!”

And then I get in my car and drive to the airport.  My ass hurts from the whipping and the needles, a very nice souvenir I will have to endure for the plane ride to Houston.

“Sir, yes, Sir!  Sir, thank You, Sir!” I say out loud several times on the interstate.  The pain of the session still reverbs in my body.  This Guy was good, really good.

 

The end