Chapter 15: The Pit’s Rope
Tether Bites – Flesh Pulls
By Restrained4U
The pit pulsed, sweat and leather thick in the air.
Jamie catching the bag tossed by Ryan, his fingers brushing the velvet, pulling a black card. He read slow, voice flat: “Tethered to another – wrists to balls, hoist-taut, blindfolded. Others roll one die each – lowest joins you, highest two strike with riding crops, remaining dice total sets the time. Endure, or beg for mercy.” He set it down – TETHER’S TRAP – latex creaking as he braced himself. “Roll – lowest’s with me.”
Marcus let out a low chuckle. “This’ll hurt, pig – hope it’s not me.”
Ryan’s fists clenched, cap tilting. “Fuck this – rather bleed out than play rope toy.”
Leo leaned forward, jaw tight, muttering to himself, Roll high, I stay caged but swing – roll low, I’m free but fucked in that trap. “Guess I’m fucked either way,” he said, voice dry.
Jamie nodded, grim. “Let’s see who’s screwed.”
Ryan flicked his – 3 stopped hard. “Three – shit, that’s low.”
Leo rolled fast – 6 rattled. “Six – fuck, dodged it.”
Marcus threw his – 6 clinked. “Six – guess I’m swinging too.”
Marcus leaned forward, belt buckle glinting, voice a rough growl. “Ryan’s three – jarhead’s caught. Six and six – twelve minutes of hell. Leo, move your ass – drag those platforms over there, ten feet apart under the hoist. Pig, jarhead- get on the boxes, now.” He stood, boots thudding, and jerked his head toward the shadowed corner.
Leo grumbled, hauling himself up, chaps rasping as he shuffled over. He grabbed two wooden boxes – rough, portable, a foot high – dragging them across the concrete, scraping loud, setting them where Marcus pointed, ten feet apart. Jamie and Ryan trudged over, stepping up onto their platforms – Jamie’s boots thudding, Ryan’s scuffing – hands loose, waiting grimly under the hoist. “Fuckin’ hell,” Ryan muttered, cap low.
Marcus strode to the rope wall, yanking two long coils free, doubling them with a snap. He threaded both through the hoist hook, letting the ends dangle, then hit the winch remote – whirring as the hook rose all the way to the ceiling, cords humming faintly. “Leo, grab two pairs of leather cuffs off the wall – move.”
Leo trudged to the wall, unhooking two sets of cuffs from their pegs, leather creaking in his grip. He tossed one pair to Marcus, who caught it mid-air, then stepped to Jamie. “Hands front,” Leo said, snapping the cuffs on Jamie’s wrists, tight and unyielding. Marcus moved to Ryan, “Hands up, jarhead,” cuffing Ryan’s wrists front, leather biting as he locked them shut.
Marcus barked, “Leo, tie this end to Ryan’s cuffs – go.” He handed Leo one dangling rope end from the first coil. Leo grabbed it, knotting it to Ryan’s cuffs with a rough tug. Marcus picked up one end of the second coil, passing it to Leo. “Now this to Jamie’s cuffs.” Leo crossed to Jamie, tying it secure, the second rope now running from Jamie’s cuffs through the hoist. Marcus growled, “Hands up high, both of you – now.” Jamie and Ryan raised their cuffed hands high, ropes tightening against the ceiling hoist, no slack left.
While Leo stepped back, Marcus grabbed the remaining end of the first coil, stepping to Jamie. He peeled Jamie’s latex pants down an inch – fabric stretching, Jamie’s cock springing free, rigid and dripping pre-cum, slick under the red lights. Marcus wrapped the rope around Jamie’s balls, cinching it tight – Jamie bucking, “Cold as hell!” Marcus moved to Ryan with the remaining end of the second coil, unzipping Ryan’s leather pants slow – leather parting, Ryan’s hard-on thick and leaking, glistening. He tied it snug around Ryan’s balls – Ryan hissing, “Fuck – tight!” The first rope stretched from Ryan’s cuffs to Jamie’s balls, the second from Jamie’s cuffs to Ryan’s balls, both taut through the hoist.
Marcus hit the winch again – whirring as the hook tightened further, both ropes rigid. Jamie and Ryan’s hands stayed high – rope biting wrists, balls stretched on the edge of pain, cocks twitching against their half-open pants. Marcus stepped back, arms crossed, grinning dark. “Here’s the deal, boys – if either of you drops your hands, it’ll tug the other’s nuts hard. Don’t want revenge fuckin’ you later, keep ‘em up.”
Jamie tested it first, easing his hands down an inch – rope pulling taut, Ryan’s balls yanked, a sharp “Fuckin’ hell!” ripping out as he jolted, hands snapping back up. Ryan retaliated, dipping his wrists slight – Jamie’s balls jerked, a gritted “Shit – asshole!” escaping as he steadied, arms trembling high again.
Marcus chuckled low. “One last thing.” He strode to the wall, grabbing a leather blindfold, turning to Jamie. “This is part of your dare, pig – can’t judge what’s coming.” He stepped up, buckling it tight over Jamie’s eyes – darkness swallowing his grimace.
Marcus turned, heading to the wall where whips and crops hung, barking over his shoulder, “Leo, you’re on Jamie – grab one and let’s go.” Leo started toward the wall, then paused, smirking. “I don’t think so.” He veered to Ryan, bending down and yanking the riding crop tucked in Ryan’s boot – slim and wicked. “This one’s mine, jarhead – suits me better.” Ryan glared, voice low and steady, “No matter how hard this fucker tries to break me, he’s gonna fail.” Leo slapped the crop against his palm, grinning jagged. Marcus shrugged, snatching a crop from the wall, gripping it tight. “Fine – count every hit together, falter adds a minute.” He set the timer – 12:00 – beep cutting the air. “Go.”
Leo swung first – crack – Ryan’s ass jumping, leather scuffed, his cage straining like there’s no tomorrow. “One!” they barked, voices raw. Marcus followed – crack – Jamie’s chest flaring red through the latex shirt, his jeans tenting hard. “Two!” – Jamie’s blind flinch yanked Ryan’s balls, a grunt tearing out.
“Keep your fuckin’ hands up!” Ryan snarled, arms trembling. Jamie spat, “Can’t see shit – you’re pulling!” – crack – Marcus’s crop welting Jamie’s abs through the shirt, bulge throbbing. “Three!” – Ryan’s wrists twitched, Jamie’s balls jerking, a sharp “Fuck!” breaking free, Leo’s chaps bulging against the cage.
Leo struck low – crack – Ryan’s thighs stinging through leather, his dick fighting the steel. “Four!” – their rhythm held, Ryan’s glare burning Leo. “Steady, wave-boy, or I’ll snap you.” Leo chuckled, crop swinging – crack – “Five!” – Ryan’s back arching under the vest, Marcus’s grip tightening on his crop, hard-on clear.
Minute three – Marcus aimed high – crack – Jamie’s chest screaming through latex, jeans straining. “Six!” – rope tugging Ryan’s sack, a growl rumbling. “Quit fuckin’ moving, pig!” Jamie hissed, “Blind, asshole – deal!” Leo’s cage creaked, pre-cum dotting his chaps.
Leo struck fast – crack – Ryan’s chest flaring under the vest, tags swinging, his strain relentless. “Seven!” – their voices cracked, sync slipping. Marcus paused, crop raised, jeans stretched tight. “Off – extra minute.” Timer reset – 13:00 ticking. “Again.”
Jamie cursed, “Fuck you, Marcus!” – crack – crop biting his ass through latex pants, heat sinking deep, bulge pulsing. “Eight!” – Ryan’s arms shook, Jamie’s balls yanked, a muffled “Shit!” slipping, Leo’s cage near bursting.
Minute six – Leo swung hard – crack – Ryan’s shoulders welting through leather, pants scuffed, his dick throbbing in confinement. “Nine!” – their shout ragged, rope creaking as Jamie swayed blind, Ryan’s balls straining. “Hold it, pig!” Ryan roared, box wobbling, Marcus’s hard-on rigid.
Minute nine – Marcus grinned, crop whistling – crack – Jamie’s thighs red through latex, amplifying the sting, latex tenting. “Ten!” – their voices broke, rope taut. Leo struck – crack – Ryan’s ass raw through leather, cage straining like hell, “Eleven!” – both gasping, hands quaking.
Minute twelve – Leo aimed high – crack – Ryan’s chest welted under the vest, tags clanking, his steel prison unrelenting. “Twelve!” – their rhythm frayed, arms burning. Marcus finished – crack – Jamie’s back stinging through latex, jeans bulging, “Thirteen!” – both hoarse, ropes trembling.
Timer hit 13:00 – beep sharp. Marcus dropped the winch – ropes slacking, Jamie and Ryan collapsing on their boxes, knees buckling under them. Marcus untied Jamie’s balls, then wrists – blindfold last, eyes blinking wild. Leo freed Ryan’s sack, then cuffs – Ryan rubbing his wrists, glare smoldering. Jamie slid off his box, latex slick with sweat, fumbling with shaky hands to tuck his hard, throbbing cock – still dripping – back into his latex pants, cursing under his breath as it fought the tight fit, and staggered to the table, sinking into his chair. Ryan eased down from his platform, vest creased, struggling to shove his thick, leaking dick back into his leather pants, grunting as it resisted, then hauled himself to the table, dropping into his seat.
Marcus stepped to a small fridge in the corner – metal humming low – pulling out twelve beers, three each, popping caps with a hiss. “Earned it – drink up,” he growled, tossing them over – bottles clinking as they caught them, downing the cold brew in steady gulps, adrenaline still buzzing.
To be continued
