By Steellock

Matt stood looking in the mirror through his pinhole eye covers. He could just see the door, which slammed open, and a tall man ran through. He shouted something to Jess and slipped through to the back. Something about him made Matt curious. He felt he knew the back view from somewhere but could not be sure.

At that moment the feeling of someone massaging his right nip distracted him! He glanced back in the mirror and could see the man reaching round. He was pinching and squeezing, working to make Matt’s tit stand out. He had never felt this before and it was oddly exiting! It was followed a minute later by a sharp pain in his left tit. Really sharp! The feeling made him take a deep breath as the nerves relayed an intense wave of pain to his brain. He automatically rose to his tiptoes to get away and equally quickly dropped back as the steel collar around his balls yanked them down!

The feeling was repeated on his right side.

After two minutes the pain level began to fall and he could open his eyes, though they were a little blurred by tears.

He looked into the face of a bearded man, about 40 years old, who was watching him very carefully. As Matt relaxed the man could see the change and turned a small knob on the clamp that was fastened tightly on each side. The pain returned with a vengeance as the clamps tightened, squeezing even harder onto the rapidly bruising flesh.

Matt felt the shock like an electric bolt sear into him. Wow that was sharp! Then he noticed that the pain in his arms was now very much a secondary thing – the distraction was working. However Matt was quite sure he preferred the original ache to the new exquisite pain in his chest!

The guy moved away! “Hey!” Matt tried to call, but nothing could escape the hood. He shook his head and wiggled as much as possible but could just hear the man chuckle as he left.

SHIT!

He stood for a while and let the pain wash through, but then, thankfully, the level began to drop as his tits either got used to the pressure or perhaps the blood had stopped. A thought struck him – if the clamps stayed on long enough, would his tits go black? He was strongly tempted to put his toes together and call for Jess. Then another thought – this had to be just the beginning! Still only 1 pm.

In the mirror he saw the bearded bastard head over to the bookshelves. He seemed to have completely lost interest in Matt.

However he could see another figure heading over. This was a much younger lad with a Mohican cut of bright red hair over the crown of his head. A tight white T-shirt and jeans over boots completed the image. He was slim but had strong hands and corded forearms. The results of some manual labor.

When the lad saw the clamps on Matt’s tits he grinned and turned to the racks next to him. Selecting a handful of what looked like clothes pegs in black from a full basket, the lad moved closer. He used the fingers of one hand to squeeze skin on Matt’s left side, down under his armpit and then applied a peg. It stung and Matt jumped. Again he yanked his balls and had to stop himself from moving.

This was repeated in a line down his side until the lad got to Matt’s waistline. It was not easy as there was very little fat to gather on Matt’s tight, exercise-crafted, body and the skin was firm. He moved over and started back up the right side. Each one stung, and both sides of his ribcage began to throb with pain. Matt had now forgotten about his arms and shoulders, he had even forgotten about the pain in his tits. This was new!

Moving his hands together, the lad began to brush the tops of the pegs, making them yank on the tight skin. Matt began to quiver and twist. Looking carefully in the mirror he realised something – the pegs were linked together by a string. At that moment the lad pulled one end of the string hard, and the pegs popped off one after another. Matt managed to get a sound out from the hood that brought a grin to the lad’s face and even attracted Jess’s attention.

Much encouraged, the lad took the string over to the counter and was soon passing over some bills. Jess dropped the pegs into a black bag and handed them to the grinning lad, who headed off out of the door.

“Well done,” said Jess, putting his head close to Matt, “Your first sale.” His hands came up and he flipped the clamps off Matt’s nips.

PAIN!

Matt wriggled and yanked as Jess massaged his chest, and fire ran through him. Slowly it dropped away, and Matt could breathe again.

“Your reward,” said Jess, who replaced the clamps on the rack and moved back to the till.

Slowly the pain in Matt’s shoulders and arms began to take hold again. He became pre-occupied by it and was desperately trying to see the clock. Trouble was, it was on the opposite wall and only visible in the mirror.

He saw that he was no longer alone again. Another inquisitive pair of hands was wandering over Matt’s body, feeling the muscles, rubbing the marks on the side of his body. This guy was wearing a leather cap and a leather jacket hung open. Matt could see a bare chest that was crossed by a set of thick leather bands that went over the man’s shoulders and under his arms – a harness in black, studded with steel spikes. The way it emphasised the strong chest muscles caught Matt’s eye. Looked good – very male.

Again he felt his tits being massaged, but this time it did not take long for them to become hard and stand out. With the guy right in front of him, Matt could not see what was going on in the mirror. One after the other he felt the sharp pain in each tit as clamps or pegs were attached. He gritted his teeth and stood firm, managing the pain as it seared through him.

Then he felt a tap on his chest between the centres of pain and realised that the clamps were linked by a chain. The guy moved aside as he reached towards a storage rack, and Matt caught a glimpse of the steel links hanging between his chest muscles.

Then it was yanked down, and both tits blazed pain back to his brain. The guy had hung a steel weight onto the chain!

As Matt swayed and ducked, the chain yanked and swung, sending new fires through his chest each time. Slowly Matt settled back to his position, more tears escaping from his tight-shut eyes under the hood. Then he felt a tapping on his belly. The leather guy had picked up a thin wooden crop and was tapping up and down the muscles that were now standing out rigidly between the hanging weight and the belt of the shorts.

The strokes got harder and harder. At each impact he was now flinching, and with each flinch the chain and weight swayed and yanked on the clamps, and the steel ring pulled on his now aching balls.

“So,” Matt thought – this is the start. He tried to relax. Tried not to anticipate the next blow. Tried to think of his shoulders but could only focus in his belly and where the next sharp sting from the crop would fall. He clamped his muscles, making them as hard as possible. Jim had said that this was a show; well he would try to play his part!

His breath was now coming in loud rasps, and he was mewing though his leather hood. His dick was reacting to the feelings surging though his tits and was now hard, very hard. The two parts of his body seemed to be joined by the feelings. This was another source of pain, as the hard head of his shaft was squashed into the pouch on the front of the shorts.

Matt’s brain was getting overloaded with feelings coming from his shoulders, chest, belly and his trapped shaft in the shorts. To cap it all, he was now struggling and yanking hard on his balls.

Then it stopped, and again he felt gloved hands smoothly rubbing over his muscles. The guy moved on, and Matt breathed again.

Then he realised that he still had a pair of clamps on his tits with a weight tapping gently between. “Oh no, not again.”

The cycle repeated several times over the afternoon. He would be the centre of attention for a while, with each person seemingly competing to bring new pains to his front. Clamps, pegs, pins of all sizes and strength were used on his now very sore nipples. He was whipped with wooden bamboo, a wide leather strap, a paddle, even lashed on his belly by a small leather cat-of-nine-tails!

Then Jess would set things back right, almost like he was tidying up the merchandise ready for the next customer!

Several times the play had ended up with a sale, and each time Matt got a reward – though he felt this was really not necessary!

Between each session Matt was more and more aware of the pain in his shoulders. It was getting really bad, about as bad as the week before. But again each time he was close to putting his toes together, a new customer would come over and start the distractions again.

One time Jess came over and took out a small key. He released the padlock on the zip across Matt’s mouth and pulled it back. He pushed a straw into his mouth and squeezed at a water bottle, forcing cold water into Matt’s mouth. Swallowing hard, he was grateful — he really needed a drink. He sucked hard. His mouth was dry from the repeated emotions and suppressed shouts. Cold water, fantastic.

Then the straw was taken away, and Matt felt the zip go back over. He had not managed to speak – to ask for the stress in his shoulders to be released.

FUCK!

How much longer could he take this? After another age and two more ‘customers’ his legs were quivering, and he was writhing around and trying to get release from the strain in his arms. Then he felt movement behind his back and opened his eyes. Jim was there!

He felt the stress drop as his hands were allowed to fall, and suddenly the blood began to flow through his twisted arms, and — PAIN again!

He felt the bar between his ankles loosen and go. The zips on his shorts were pulled down, allowing his squashed dick to spring free. He heard a chuckle, and Jim said, “Don’t worry, we will massage that soon.” The wide ring pulling down at his poor stretched balls was opened, and he was helped to walk forwards. His legs cramped after the enforced stillness, and he almost fell over. Jim grabbed him around the waist and supported him for a minute or two. Matt pushed hard down onto the ball of his foot, and the cramp lessened. Then, still with his hands down by his waist behind his back and the hood on his head, he was led through the door, but he thought that he heard applause as he left. Had there been an audience?

He felt massaging hands move up and down his legs, and they were lifted to get the blood moving. Matt almost felt like a horse after a race.

His bruised and sore belly was rubbed. Hands moved over his shoulders, smoothing away the stress. He heard Jim speaking gently into his ear. “Have to leave the hood on, as there are quite a lot of lads about for the evening. Do you need a pee?”

Matt nodded quickly. That had been bothering him for a while. He was led through a passage an into a large communal shower room. Then he realised that he was going to have to go with Jim holding his dick. “Let my hands free!” he shouted through the tight leather helmet. Jim shook his head and walked him into a stall and steadied him.

Matt could wait no longer and felt a stream of pee surge through his now softened member. Such a relief!

He heard Jim’s voice by his ear again. “After your first day on shift I’ll let you have an easier evening. We have a house full for Saturday night. First drink this, it’s to get you through to later.” A straw was pushed into his mouth and Matt sucked, getting a mouthful of a thick protein shake. He drank it up quickly as he had indeed been getting very hungry but had not really noticed through the cascade of pain and excitement all afternoon. When the straw was pulled away he got another and found a long drink of cold water.

Suddenly the small amount of vision that the pinprick holes had given was blocked out! He felt hands at the side of his head and realised that a blindfold had been strapped on. Another thing he realised was how much of his air had come through those eyeholes! It became much more difficult to breathe. The rasping sound of his own breathing got much louder. He really felt the solitude. He was in a small, tight leather world.

He felt himself pushed backwards and backed up, stopping as the muscles of his shoulders, his arms and his butt touched steel bars. He heard and felt a clang from in front. Moving from side to side, he realised that he was in a cage like a coffin but standing up!

He panicked and began to thrash from side to side, shouting into his hood, banging his brawny shoulders into the cold steel bars on each side. He felt his head bashing into more bars with his forehead and the back of the leather helmet. Immediately he felt the hands back on his shoulders and heard the sound of Jim’s voice in his ear through the leather. “Calm down, stand easy, relax, soldier. I’m always watching over you.”

Somehow this made him feel secure and he stood still, getting his breath back, pulling long draughts in through his nose. He realised how easy it is to panic when you lose most of your senses, no sight, little hearing and arms still tightly bound.

After a couple of minutes he felt a light and gentle massage on his sore belly muscles. Suddenly he realised it was a tongue lapping up and down, stroking the aching ridges of his six-pack. He wriggled, trying to get away – this was new and he felt ashamed! However it seemed to have an effect on him and he became hard again. Very hard.

Then it stopped, and there was a similar feeling as the mouth moved to his groin and the tongue moved over the bulging veins of his shaft. While this was keeping his attention there was a sharp pain in his left tit – someone had put a clamp on again! Could they not give him a rest? He was so sore up there. His attention was switching continuously from one part of his body to another, going from pain to surging pleasure. Never had be felt all this before! The mouth and tongue were expertly working his dick. The hands applied another clamp to his right tit. He knew he was near to blowing his load and was wriggling. It STOPPED.

He was left alone for 10 minutes and went soft. His tits really hurt now, and Matt started to buck and butt the bars with his head.

Then he felt a mouth close around his balls! They were being sucked, and the magic tongue was rolling them around like a rosary! While this was keeping his mind distracted, the clamps were flipped off.

PAIN AGAIN!!!

Hands massaged and twisted his sore tits, pushing the blood back through them, and there seemed to be an electric shock running from his chest to his groin. He shouted – yelling into the hood, sound echoing through his own head.

The sucking mouth moved from his balls back to his penis. The delicate tongue digging into the slit on the end. Shivers ran down Matt’s back. He had never felt like this before. Nights with girls had been good, but the feelings running though him now were new!

His balls were now boiling, and again he was about to release when the mouth stopped.

What was happening here!

Another 10 minutes, but at least this time his tits were not being squashed. Perhaps he was wrong – he felt a new sensation; a light rubbing on the end of his nipples. It got stronger, and Matt realised that they were being rubbed with what felt like sand paper.

At the same time he felt a pinprick on his belly, followed by another and again. This turned into a line of pricks, and Matt could feel the light pressure of what felt like a wheel of pins being run over his front from his now strongly pumped chest down to his groin. The lines started to move from side to side, rolling around his muscles. It tickled, and he was again wriggling and bucking. The stroking of his nipples continued, and his mind flickered between this new sensation that was driving him wild and the moving sharp pain of the wheel running patterns over his six-pack.

He was hard again. Absolutely rigid! Harder than he had ever been before!

The tongue was back just tickling the end of his throbbing member, pushing its way into the slit on the end. After about 10 minutes of this, Matt was roiling with need and about to cum.

It all stopped again!

He could feel the pre-cum juices dripping from his dick. His balls ached.

The pattern was repeated again and again, and he began to shiver and twist.

It stopped, and this time after a while he realised that it was over and he had still not found release. He was again alone, and his mind came back to the present. He was standing with his arms behind him, locked in a tight cage with his head now aching from the confinement of the leather enclosing it and holding his mouth firmly shut. What on earth was he doing here! He was getting stiff legs again. Never had he stood for so long. Even guard duty was easier, at least then you could walk to and fro. He felt cramps coming again in his calves and pushed hard to free the tight muscles.

Jim’s voice came in his ear. “Distraction. You are learning that you can take pain from one side whilst your mind is distracted from another. You need to be able to channel the pain into another area and let it wash through you as the endorphins kick in and take your mind to another place. Time to get some rest, you can have a bunk in the Brig downstairs, should think you are used to that!”

Matt heard a low chuckle and felt his now again soft member being lifted and pushed into his belly by a hard and prickly cover. The zips went up again, tightening the pressure. His waist was encircled and pulled by the belt being tightened, and he realised that the shorts were now padlocked shut but this time there was a hard and uncomfortable lining pressing onto his tackle. He could feel the pin-sharp lining squashing his balls as they stuck out forwards and all up the bottom of his shaft as it again got hard and pressed into the belt at his waist.

He heard the rattle of the padlocks coming off and the squeak of the door to his cage opening. Jim grabbed him by the elbow and led him off, goodness knew where. The strong grip steered him along.

After what felt like 100 yards and having descended a long flight of stairs, they turned sharp left and Matt’s shoulders bounced off the sides of a doorway. Then he felt the hands at the side of his head again, and the blindfold was removed. Dim light came in from a covered fitting in the ceiling.

“The hood stays on, as there are still guys around. You will need to get used to this,” said Jim.

Jim spun him around and – Ahhh, at last – his arms were released from the strap hanging down his back. The collar was unbuckled, and the whole damn thing was taken away.

While he was starting to swing his arms around and begin some much-needed exercise, Matt heard the door clang and a lock clink. He turned to catch a glimpse of Jim heading off down the corridor. What the fuck!

Where was he now! In the dim light, he could not see much through the pin-prick holes in the hood. He peered around and could see a metal bunk on one wall. That was it, there was nothing else in the room. It really was a cell. He felt over his head, just about able to lift his arms that far and found buckles down each side of a broad strap down the back of his head but each one had a small padlock through the hasp that stopped him from undoing them. The main neck collar was also locked and his mouth was still sealed behind the zip. It was staying on! A similar situation at the front of his belt and at the straps around his legs. All tightly sealed. Realising there was nothing to be done, Matt lay down on the bunk and closed his eyes. He was exhausted! His nipples ached, stinging as he rubbed them. His belly ached as he ran his hands over and he could feel the bruising coming out. Sleep came with difficulty, however, as the pin pricks pressed onto his still hard dick. His balls, sore and swollen from the hours of being yanked down by the steel clamp, kept jerking his mind from the edge of rest whenever he moved and the little spikes did their work.

Bloody Jim! What was this for! He remembered the huge ejaculation two weeks ago, how he ached to repeat that now, but the leather shorts got in the way. He could not even rub himself because of the bloody liner.

As he lay on his back, he ran his mind back over the day – Matt knew he had given a good performance, he was sure. They had to know he was serious. He was proud – his first flogging on his now bruised and sore belly had been OK – keeping his toes apart had taken almost everything he had, but the variety of the feelings and experiences had just kept him going. Moving his shoulders and arms, he rubbed his belly gently. Ran his hands over his shorts, around his head, feeling the tight leather.

And then he dropped off to sleep.

 

 

To be continued …