Bondage, Balls, Pain and Pleasure

By: David Andrew
(© 2008 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 10

Remember Tom? The oil industry lobbyist, the guy who’d used the electric shock equipment on me? Well our paths crossed again, it happened like this: -

As I told you my personal torturer, Vincent, took a sabbatical, he went to Europe for four months. It was nice for him, but there was no way my balls could be left swinging without attention for that long. So once again I turned to the personal ads. One guy sounded interesting, there was a reply waiting for me next time I checked my mailbox. I recognized the return address on 43rd Street immediately, it was Tom! He obviously had not recognized my name from my letter, said he would very much like to meet, and included his phone number. I must admit I was in some doubt about calling, I had learned to take more punishment since we had last met, but would he want to take me on again after the way I’d behaved? Well I did call. I told him we’d met some time before, didn’t tell him how much of a wimp I’d been. He still didn’t remember me, at least if I hadn’t made a good impression on him I hadn’t made a bad one either. He said he was going to meet a friend that evening for a meal in a restaurant on 2nd Avenue at 48th, very convenient for both of us, asked me to join them. I didn’t want to eat, it was already very late by my body clock, my stomach had shut down for the night even if my balls were still working. Tom persuaded me to join them there for a glass of wine and then go back to his apartment later. It sounded good; I went.

They had already started their meal when I arrived, I just had wine. I was introduced to the friend, Brain, a white South African, short, and a bit over weight. From the conversation I very soon gathered that Brian was also a top, although I must say he didn’t look like a top, didn’t have that aura. Maybe it was because he was no more than five foot six with a bit of a pot belly. I gathered from the conversation that he and Tom were involved in organizing the Chicago Hellfire Club’s next orgy of torture. Even with more experience, I knew I was out of my depth again. I considered developing a headache, but the wine eased my anxieties. I went back to the apartment with the two of them.

Tom went to get more wine, Brian took a hold of my belt and turned me to face him. He then unbuttoned my shirt and took it off. He played with my tits for a while, nothing bad, just tweaking and pulling, then unbuckled my belt and pulled down my jeans. I wasn’t wearing any underwear, never did when I was going out to have sex, so except for my socks and shoes I was now essentially naked. This was all without a word to me, but finding my cock up and ready pleased Brian a lot, he jerked on it a few times then went for my testicles. Now this was my kind of scene and the harder he handled my balls the wetter my cock got. By the time Tom came back with the drinks Brian was really enjoying my nuts. Tom was naked too, his cock was long, but still soft, a broad, black leather stretcher held his balls down low. As we drank the wine Brian stripped off. As I said he was short, but his cock was out of all proportion, it was way too long for his body, and still growing as it rapidly stiffened.

“Take a seat,” said Tom indicating the sofa. It was one of those low backed pieces which you virtually lie on rather than sit on. I sat and leaned back, Brian went around the back of the sofa to put his glass on the sideboard. Tom stepped up close in front of me and leaned forward to fondle my balls. I slid right down so that my hips were right at the front of the sofa, spread my legs, and put my hands behind my head. It was a gesture of submission offering it all to Tom. As soon as I did this Brian grabbed my arms from behind, pulling them back and trapping them between his legs and the sofa. As Brian took hold of my arms Tom stepped between my legs so that I couldn’t close them. On the coffee table, just behind Tom, was a wooden box. I had noticed it when we came in, varnished mahogany, brass fittings, it looked old, the sort of case that old instruments like microscopes might have been kept in. Without moving from between my legs Tom reached around and opened the case. At the front there was a row of four large, black knobs. Behind the knobs was a glass tube, three inches in diameter, a foot long. At one end there was a large black cap, at the other end was a wire, about five feet long with a metal probe at the end.  I watched like a rabbit frozen by a snake’s eyes. Tom flicked a switch, fiddled with the knobs. Suddenly there were pale blue electric arcs dancing around inside the tube, something like those spheres you see in scientific novelty shops. My mouth was utterly dry as Tom turned back with the probe in his right hand: he pointed it at my balls. From a distance of about an inch an arc leapt across the gap. It didn’t just strike at one spot, but wandered erratically over my sac stinging like a demented bee wherever it went. I twisted to right and left. I could have got away because Tom was only standing between my legs, I wasn’t tied down yet, but by this time I’d learned more about the role of a bottom which is to take pain and please the top by taking it without complaining. The flickering arc followed the probe as Tom moved it around my body. He drew the arc from my scrotum up the length of my cock to the very tip. There, because of the bead of pre-cum in the mouth, he was able to draw the arc out to maybe two inches. Apart from the stinging at the tip it felt as though there was a very thin vibrator in my urethra. By moving the probe towards and away from my cock he could make and break the connection. He ran the arc up and down the inside of my legs, I twitched like crazy.

“Light up his tits,” said Brian from behind the sofa.

“No! Can’t do that,” Tom replied. “Can’t use these above the waist, could mess up the signals to the heart. But here...you have a go at his cock.” I was glad Tom had read the manual!

Brian took the probe and had a long, long game with my penis. It stung like buggery, especially at the tip which seemed to please Brian most. When he finally broke off I collapsed back on the sofa utterly exhausted.

“No it’s not over yet,” said Brian. “Kneel up on the sofa, drape yourself over the back, I want to get at your hole.”

‘Shit! How am I going to take this?’ I wondered. But I wanted to impress so I did as I was told without hesitation. It’s true what they say, it takes a brave man to admit to fear. As I took up position Tom and Brian switched places. As Tom held my arms down behind the sofa his cock was only two inches from my mouth. I could see the pre-cum that had leaked, the shiny streak went right down his scrotum. I remember thinking that only a few years before I’d have sucked the whole length of into my mouth, right down to his balls. It would have made it better to have a top’s penis in my mouth as another top took my hole, but those days of sucking naked cocks were long gone. That’s when I realized that this was only the beginning, but by now my cock looked really good. With my knees wide apart I felt that my hole was very exposed, but Brian wasn’t satisfied.

“I want your hips up on the back, right up on top.” I moved to lift my butt as high as I could get it. “Yes, that’s better. Now spread your legs wider.” The sparks stung my buns as he moved the probe around and around. He moved it down to my balls which were pressed back between my legs by the soft cushion. The back of my sac felt like it was being jabbed with needles, thousands of them, very fine, very sharp, very hot too. He moved back up to my ass.

“Come on, open it up! I want to get right up in there.” I tried to spread my cheeks but didn’t succeed well enough for Brian’s satisfaction. “Open him up Tom, I want to get to his ring.”

When Tom leaned forward to take my buns in his hands his cock pressed against my cheek, my nose was between his thigh and his scrotum. Again I thought of sucking, taking his balls into my mouth, but there was the pre-cum, and this was the safe-sex era. With my buns spread wide Brian finally got the arc to my hole. It stung worse than anything that had gone before, made my sphincter twitch like crazy, felt as though the arc was probing, trying to get right up and in. Brian thoroughly enjoyed himself. I must admit I felt a lot more confident after taking it without objecting.

What else was different this time? Well, when Tom suggested that we move through to the bedroom I remembered the last time, when I’d needed a piss.

“I’ll just have to have a leak before we get started,” I said.

“Me too,” said Brian.

“Okay, we’ll all have a piss,” said Tom. Then turning to me he said, “Get in the bath!”

I was playing with the big boys now, I climbed in and waited. This time I wasn’t blindfolded so I could see the two cocks pointing at me. The two streams of piss hit me at the same time, before I had even started. I was hosed down all over, head to toe, but at least I wasn’t going to have to try and piss in the bed. After we’d all finished it was back to the bed with the jet black covers that I remembered so well. I was spread-eagled again.

Brian had a device which worked like a thumb-screw. How can I describe it? It was a hollow wooden cylinder about three inches in diameter. Set through the side of it was a large wooden screw with a flat plastic plate on the end. There was plenty of room inside the cylinder for a testicle. Brian got my left one into the tube and held it in place with his thumb, then started to turn the screw. It had was a coarse pitch thread, a few turns and the plastic plate at end of the screw was pressed firmly against the side of my testicle. Now Brian was able remove his thumb, the nut was trapped. I think having one testicle tortured in this way was even more painful than the ball-press that Tom had used the previous time. Well maybe it wasn’t worse, but certainly it was more focused. My entire consciousness was concentrated in that one small organ. If ever pain could be called exquisite this was it. I was actually sweating when he released the screw. The relief was wonderful, but followed almost immediately by another rush of pain as the blood flowed in again, and of course there was the certain knowledge that he was going to do the same to the other one. He did. And when he was through with that one he reverted to the left one. This time he got it in sideways so that the screw came in at the back of the ball. The ball-press had been hard to take, but it was a general all-over pain in the testicle. This device concentrated the pain in one small spot, in just a few seconds I was roaring. They hadn’t put the gag in at this stage, luckily the apartment was an old substantial stone building. However, before Brian went for the back of my right testicle, Tom pulled the hood with the gag over my head. This cut down the noise a lot, but not the pain!

Being used by two tops was very, very hot, and was even better after I’d been hooded. There were hands all over my body, and no way of knowing which of them was doing what. One pair of hands went for my tits, I’m pretty sure it was Brian, he’d wanted to use the probe on my tits. Whoever it was he used a pair of tit clamps, small ones with sharp teeth to bite into the nipple. Each clamp had a lead ball attached to it by a short length of chain which rolled around on my chest when I struggled. Felt like there was a small, vicious animal tearing at my nipple. I didn’t like it, really didn’t, but I took it because that’s what a bottom is expected to do.

Another new device that Tom had bought was a more versatile version of the electrical shocking machine he’d used the first time I’d come to his apartment. It had the same electrodes, one stuck in my piss-slit, one around the neck of my scrotum, another up my ass, and the return path for the current was a large metal band strapped to my thigh. Besides the steady and pulsing current this one could apply a saw-tooth wave, the current building up from zero to max over a period. The time could be varied, a short interval of two or three seconds was like a pulsing in my cock and balls, painful but short. At longer intervals, twenty to thirty seconds I could feel the power ramping up and switching off. There was such an inevitability about it, I just knew that the pain would rise to screaming point then stop. But as soon as it stopped I could feel the next wave building up. Another feature in this machine was that it could be programmed to apply the power to each of the electrodes in turn, and the rate at which it switched between the cock, balls and asshole could be varied too. Lastly it had a hand-held probe to shock specific parts of the body, very much like the probe they’d used in the lounge, but the sting was much sharper and more painful. One of them used it on the tip of my cock again, went on and on, it really hurt. I was sure that it would look like a piece of raw meat when they got through with it, but I was determined to show them that I could take it, and I did.

After what seemed like an incredibly long session I was told it was time for me to cum. It was the first time that I’d been ordered to shoot a load of semen and that gave me a thrill. They, the tops, had decided that it was time for me to cum, they wanted my juice, they wanted it now. The power was switched off, but the electrodes were all still in place and attached to the machine. A hand started to pump strongly on my cock: I felt my balls respond. I guess they saw the tightening in my sac because a moment later the hand released my cock and it was given a severe shock. I bucked against the chains, the pumping started again. They did this again and again, I really don’t know how many times. Each time the hand went to work I was sure that they’d let me shoot, but just as I felt the semen rising, wham, the current would jolt my body. Inwardly I was screaming, outwardly I was trying to beg, not much came out. At last the hand took me too far, the semen spurted, and even a rapid stream of shocks couldn’t stop the flow which pushed out past the electrode. Strangely once my juice was flowing the electric shocks weren’t painful, I guess I was just too turned on to be stopped, it was just the most fantastic ejaculation I’d ever had. Brian told me later that it had been an accident, that they’d intended to keep me on the edge for much longer, but he hadn’t worked on anyone with so little experience for a long time and had misjudged the torture.

After I had shot my load for them they both climbed on to the bed, one either side and started to jerk off. I could hear the sounds of cocks being worked hard, balls slapping around between thighs, short gasps, then the cum splattered all over my body.

The three of us shared a shower, washed each other, every nook and cranny. They had obviously enjoyed themselves and were very complimentary. I felt fantastic, I’d played with the big boys and not wimped out. Tom told me that the two of them had planned a trip to the beach the following weekend which struck me as odd, he didn’t look like the sort of guy who’d be interested in spending a day at a beach. However, all became clear when I heard that it was a nudist beach in New Jersey, and he asked if I’d like to join them. Oh God, would I ever! But the chances were slim to nil. I was on a series of reserve duties at home that week. I could be sent anywhere, or nowhere, depending on the weather, flight delays, and God I suppose. And apart from that, our layovers were normally 24 hours, with a pick-up time at either 4 or 5 p.m. No way could I go to a beach in New Jersey and be back in time and fit for work. I explained all this, but said I’d call if things changed and by some miracle I was going to be in town. Well you know miracles do happen, sometimes. Someone went sick, I was called in, it was a 48 hour layover, rather than the usual 24 hours, I couldn’t believe my luck.

To be continued...

Posted: 09/04/09