Chapter 8: The Pit’s Chains
Sling Stretches – Steel Claims
By: Restrained4U
The dungeon pulsed, tension thick.
Marcus slumped, rope scars red, boots rooted, shoving the bag to Leo. “Your go – pit’s waiting.”
Leo grabbed the bag from his chair, shaky hand digging in – Fuck, what’s it gonna be? He pulled a black dare card – white lettering stark – voice cracking as he read aloud. “Sling’s Embrace – Will You Yield to Its Lace? Roll two dice – minutes tied in the sling, legs spread, parachute stretcher on, half-pound weights added each minute – or quit and prove your manhood’s frail, stripped away for good.” He dropped it – STRETCH OR SUBMIT – gut sinking – Two dice… shit.
Marcus leaned forward, smirking – He’s shaky – “Step up, wave-boy, or play that last veto card – your call.” Leo gripped the table – Ryan’s owning this… – “I’ve got this, man,” he muttered, voice thin – veto untouched. Ryan’s smirk curled – “Finally get to ride that swing set you admired earlier, wave-boy.”
Leo grabbed two silver dice from the table – Gotta ride this – letting them spill – 5, 4. “Nine minutes,” he rasped – Fuck… nine again, my curse – muttering – “Rode 9-footers off Oahu… gotta ride this” – legs shaky as nine’s shadow loomed, recalling the cane’s ninth strike—It broke me then… Marcus crossed his arms – “Weights every minute? You’ll snap – pit’s got your number.” Marcus rose – grabbing a parachute stretcher and leather wrist and ankle restraints – chains and straps clinking – tossing them onto the table -“Let’s strap him in.”
Ryan’s shot up – boots thudding, jaw tight – He turned – “Lose the jock – get in the sling.” Leo stood – bare feet scuffing – peeling his jock, dick fully hard, precum dripping – Surf stripped me plenty – tossing it to the tribute pile – naked, trembling. Marcus snorted – Pathetic – “He’s dripping precum all over – decent prick though, wave-boy.”
Ryan guided Leo into the sling – leather cradling his welted ass, spotlight harsh – snapping wrist cuffs on – left, right – then ankle cuffs – locking all to the silver chains – yanking his legs wide, arms taut – knees bent, thighs straining – strapping the stretcher around Leo’s scrotum – Healthy handful, not huge – balls bulging, dick stiff – hooking a half-pound weight – letting it drop – tugging sharp – timer set to 9:00 – beeping alive.
Minute one – 0.5 pounds – Leo gritted – I’ve surfed worse… – Ryan’s steel flickering in his spine. Minute two – Ryan added ½ pound – 1 total – ache crept in, dick twitching – What the fuck… turning me on? Minute three – 1.5 pounds – he grunted, hard-on swelling – Healthy, not a monster… why’s this hot? – sweat beading, surf grit cracking. Minute four – 2 pounds – pain sharpened – Nine fucked me last time… – groan escaping, cane’s echo biting. Minute five – Ryan dropped 2.5 pounds – balls yanked hard, dick throbbing – he bucked – “Stop! … fuck this!” – nine’s curse breaking him.
Ryan smirked – boots thudding – “Nine’s haunting you again, huh?” – unclipping the weights – 2.5 pounds clattering – fingers fumbling the stretcher’s straps – Fuck… what’s next? – pausing, jaw tight – Never rigged this shit… – “Marcus, need your hands – uncharted territory here.” Marcus grinned – Caught short – “Maybe not Pit King after all,” rising – boots scuffing – heading to the cabinet, opening a deep drawer – pulling the Carrera, steel gleaming – approaching Leo – still slung – spotting his hard-on – “Well, that ain’t gonna work – gonna have to fix that.” He turned – “Jamie, grab an ice pack- freezer’s in the cabinet.” Jamie hopped up – bare feet slapping – fetching it from the built-in slot – handing it over – Marcus pressed it to Leo’s groin – Leo flinched – “Fuck me…” – ice biting, dick shrinking – group jeering – “Cold shower for the surf king!”
Marcus prepped the Carrera – scrotum ring, cage, front plate – glancing at Ryan with a smirk – “Pay attention, king – might learn something.” Once Leo’s dick softened – Marcus slid the ring over his balls – threaded the cage – clicked the plate – Ryan unhooking the cuffs – chains clattering – Leo stumbling out – Marcus cinching the waistband, rear wire tight – Abus lock clicked – Steel tomb. Marcus chuckled – “Wipeout’s permanent now.”
Leo rubbed his groin – cage heavy – panic rising – Stripped for good? – “How long?” Ryan shrugged – “Long as it takes.” Marcus grinned – “Surf’s over, locked bitch.” Jamie eyed the steel – That’s brutal – envy simmering. Leo sank to his chair – bare, caged – nine’s wave drowned him, manhood stripped away.
Marcus tossed the bag to Ryan – boots scuffing – “Your turn, pit’s hungry.”
…to be continued
