This story is not completely fictional. Nor is it the truth and nothing but the truth. The names have definitely been changed to protect the guilty. We are all disease free and stay that way by protecting ourselves whenever we play with anyone but each other. Descriptions of unprotected sex are fictional because I'm imaginative and not stupid.
You know the rules... Don't read this if you're a minor or are offended by gay or BDSM expression. Don't even think about reproducing or publishing it without my permission. Remember, I have sadistic friends who like to punish people! <>
Chapter 25
Oh fuck! Oh fuck! This gotta pass. Oh shit it gotta pass. Oh man. Please let it pass. I break out in a sweat. I struggle to maintain my breathing. I've gotta breathe. It will ease out faster if I breathe. This fucking dildo in my mouth is driving me nuts. I just wish I could move my fucking head. I scream into the gag. With the fucking headphones on I can't even hear myself. I have no fucking idea how loud it's coming out. Oh fuck! Who thought I could be tortured by a blow job? Oh man, please let it ease out, oh please.... Time seems to last eternally. I fight to keep my composure. Finally! It's easing out. It's getting better. Okay, I can handle this. Whew... Deep breaths, deep breaths. Okay, it's not so bad anymore. Oh man my balls hurt. They fucking ache. I move my lips around the dildo but it's too big in my mouth to do anything else. I just wish I could close my mouth, close my mouth and move my head, and have the ball crusher off my balls. With just that I'd be fine again. I was fine before and I'd be fine again. I scream into the gag again hoping to get some relief.
Michael looks at Steven, "It's your call man."
As he waits for an answer he rubs his thumb along the outline of his hard on. With a nod of his head he points out Steven's boner as well. Steven grabs his own crotch and leans back against the table taking another sip of his coffee. Michael nods and sits beside him. He reaches across and places his hand over the hand that Steven is using to massage his dick. Steven moves his hand and lets Michael do it for him. Still sitting on the table Michael eases Steven over to stand between his legs. Neither of them is wearing a shirt and Michael easily slides his hand down Steven's pants. He strokes his dick for him inside his pants. Steven reaches down and opens his own pants to give Michael better access to his cock. Michael works his dick expertly with slow teasing strokes. He tries to ease Steven's pants down but Steven holds them in place. Michael picks up the pace sending waves of pleasure through Steven's dick and tries again to drop his pants.
Steven holds them firmly and himself as well. He does not flinch or pull away. He stands his ground and holds his place. He will neither surrender nor retreat, but is too smart to counter. It isn't the right time, not yet anyway. Michael continues to play with him until he realizes that he won't get what he wants, and then he stops. Steven simply puts himself away and sidesteps to sit beside Michael again. They both watch the struggles and listen to the moans coming from the box. Their raging hard-ons confirm their shared sadistic interests.
The bartender's dick is rock hard as well. Not missing an opportunity, Michael tells him to strip down and lie on the floor next to the other slave. Squeezing generous amounts of Capzasin ES into his hand he tells the slave to jerk off. The little sideshow is just an added perk for their entertainment. The poor boy has no idea what's coming until the cream really heats up. Not being familiar with the sensations he stops jerking off and just rolls around on the floor in agony. It's just icing on the cake to watch him suffering too.
The main attraction is still in the box. They both understand what is happening. The milking machine caused pleasure until after the orgasm, then it tortures the highly sensitive cock, and of course the slave it's attached to. Without relief the period of heightened sensitivity is prolonged and the period of torture drawn out. The strict bondage prohibiting any movement just adds to the psychological feelings of helplessness. The additional discomforts are actually beneficial to the slave because the body can only handle so much and by distributing the pain it actually makes the cock torture more tolerable. Then of course it slowly turns to pleasure again.
I settle into the new sensations. It's starting to feel good on my dick again but my balls ache. My jaw has a dull ache to it as well and my tongue is getting claustrophobic pinned in place by the dildo. I miss the luxury of being able to move my head. I just wish I could do that again. My dick feels pretty good so I try to concentrate on that. It helps me to block everything else out. I wish I could take off the stupid earphones because they're so distracting and I can't hear anything else with them on. Where the fuck did these lyrics come from anyway? All it talks about is abusing and beating low life sub boys who suck cock, swallow cum, drink piss, lick ass and on and on. At first I try to block it out but then realize if I concentrate on the words they're really kind of a turn-on. I've always been turned on by verbal abuse. It's like this stuff was tailor made for me.
I get lost in the lyrics and start putting faces and bodies together in my head picturing the lyrics played out in real time. I picture myself licking out Steven's ass.... Hhhmmmm, sucking on his dick..... I imagine the feel of him sliding up inside me. And Michael, whew.... I picture myself on my knees serving him too. Me sucking Michael as Steven fucks me from behind sweet and slow. Fuck! I'd love to be sandwiched between the two of them! That would be my idea of boy heaven!
I ease into the sensations going through my dick. I try to block out everything else. I feel myself moaning into the gag. It feels good to do that. I guess because I can't move it's a way of expending the energy I'm feeling. I feel myself slipping deeper into my fantasies. They're moving faster in my head, switching between Steven and Michael. Every few seconds it's a different scene in my head. Different guys, different places, different positions... The different things I see in my head make my dick feel different. Oh man... I love this. The whole world ceases to exist and it's just me and my thoughts and my dick. Nothing else. No one else. This is so fucking awesome. Everyone should feel this. I moan deeper.
Michael looks at Steven and says in amusement, "the dumb fuck doesn't learn."
"He always thinks with his dick." Michael laughs but Steven isn't really joking. There's a bit too much truth to what he'd said. He does think with his dick and it has gotten him into trouble lots of times, but no matter how many times it has happened he doesn't seem to learn from it. The boy is insatiable.
Not being a stupid man Steven realizes that it is not going to change. The boy likes a lot of sex and he likes doing it with a lot of different guys. It's the same with the S & M shit. He can't get enough, at least not yet anyway. In the beginning the concern was that he'd abuse his safe word, now the concern is that he won't ever use it. Training someone to take more would be easy compared to getting someone to be satisfied with less. How the fuck do you do that?
Being honest Steven admits to himself... I get off on watching other guys using him both sexually and by abusing him. I like sharing him. I like hanging out with the other guys and tag teaming him and conspiring and plotting against him. So where do I draw the line, and how? When is enough, enough? I thought he'd set the limits but he isn't. He always set the pace and called the shots since we were kids. Every time I pushed it past where he wanted to go he backed way off. I can understand that it was hard for him to come to terms with and admit what he is. Hell, it was hard for me to admit to myself and even harder for me to admit to him that I get off on seeing him in pain, being humiliated and degraded, by seeing him abused. It had to have been hard for him to admit that he got off on submitting and being subservient to other men, by being abused by them, by drinking piss and everything else he does. Now that the line's been crossed and we've started all this, where's the line where it stops?
The moans from the box pull Steven from his thoughts. He and Michael exchange glances while their main focus stays on the box. They watch him moving toward orgasm which is entertainment in and of itself but what will come after is what really interests them. The sensitivity after orgasm, after the second orgasm, will be agony. Sweet agony! It won't last long but it will be hot and intense for as long as it lasts.
Thinking quickly, Steven moves to the box in the floor. Using his toes he presses against the ball crusher. The sudden increase in pain and discomfort override the pleasure of the approaching orgasm and delay it. Letting go, they all watch as it moves toward orgasm again.
Fuck! I was so close. I wanted to cum so bad. The sudden pressure on my balls pulled me away from cumming. I concentrate on the sensations going through my cock. I'm determined to stay quiet so I don't let them know I'm going to cum. Fuck it! I want to cum so badly!
Steven notices the sudden quiet. He pulls the gag out of its mouth. A moan escapes as if it were being held prisoner by the gag. Steven knows it's getting close again. Pulling off the earphones Steven gives him a choice. "We can stop now before you cum and I'll let you out, but the cock cage gets put back on and you'll wear it for a month straight. Or, you can cum again and we keep going. Decide now, right now."
I'm delighted to hear Steven's voice and to know he's here. I struggle to digest what he said. Stop now and the cage goes back on or I can cum again. Why the fuck wouldn't I want to cum again? Why would I want to wear the cage again for a month? My orgasm is close. So close.
"Answer me now." Steven's voice breaks into my head and disrupts my thoughts.
"I'm gonna cum. Oh fuck, man, I'm gonna shoot. Oh fuck yeah!" I hang for several seconds at the edge of cumming. My orgasm is incredibly intense. It shudders through my whole body. It takes me a second to realize it's me screaming as the pleasure quickly turns into agony. "Oh fuck no! No! Please stop! Please! Oh fuck! I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Please. I made a mistake. I'll wear the cage. I'll do anything! Oh please make it stop!" I gasp out a sob as I realize begging won't help. I continue to cry unable to do anything else. I feel Steven place his hand on the side of my face and I push against it for security. He caresses my face as I struggle to cope with sensations raging through my overly sensitive cock. I make all kinds of promises to obey and behave for him. I tell him how much I love him, how much I need him, how I want him to make my decisions for me because I fuck up on my own. His response is in his hand. It caresses me tenderly. The agony in my cock slowly subsides but my balls are aching and so is my stomach from holding my muscles clenched. My throat is dry and sore from screaming and begging.
"Take a drink." He holds the straw to my lips and I drink from it. I drink slow but steady until I finish it all. The milking machine is shut off and the tube is slid off my dick. I'm relieved and glad it's over. Dread washes over me as the gag is put back in my mouth and I realize I'm not getting out yet. I sink further as I feel the cream being rubbed into my dick and balls and I know what's coming. I wait for the burning sensation I know is coming. I try to prepare for it, but I can't. It always hurts more than I remember it. I just endure it knowing I could have stopped it and I didn't. I jump as the lid slams closed above me. Oh fuck..... This time they leave me with the dildo gag in my mouth which means I can't even move my head or close my mouth. I can't get a drink, even if all I had last time was piss it was better than nothing. And my balls, oh shit my balls are still in the ball crusher. How long am I going to have to endure all of this? SHIT! I'm so fucking stupid. He gave me the option of ending all this and I chose to cum again. When will I learn not to think with my dick?
Steven had slammed the lid for effect and then very slowly opened it. He wanted to watch and listen. The low moans, the quiet sobs into the dick gag, the movement of his lips around the gag, watching his cock shrivel and his balls suck up from the discomfort of the heat cream. He could even see the contractions of his muscles under the vet wrap. He could sense the anxiety level, watch it fall and rise as he fights for control by his breathing. As he watches he's filled with a sense of pride; more than pride. More like awe and admiration. The fucker can really take it all, the pain, the bondage, the humiliation and embarrassment, cum control, obedience, and everything else that's been thrown at him. He's one tough man Steven admits to himself. He also admits that he couldn't do it, but then again, he wouldn't do it. No fucking way. He closes the lid.
Grabbing the bartender by the hair he pulls him up to his knees. Looking at Michael, he takes his cock out of his pants and shoves it in the whore's mouth. Michael follows his lead and pulls the bartender up by his waist. Slapping lube on his asshole, Michael pushes his cock straight up the guy's ass. He opens his mouth to scream but Steven just shoves his cock down his throat preventing any sound except the one from his gag reflex. They fuck him hard at both ends. Steven pulls out and shoots his load all over the poor guy's face. Michael is really turned on by watching Steven shoot his load. He pulls out of the guy's ass and goes postal on spanking his ass with his hand. He's relentless pausing only to shove his cock back in for a few strokes until he's close and then pulls out and spanks him again. When he's being spanked he begs Michael to stop and when he's being fucked he begs Michael not to stop.
Michael pulls out and shoots his cum all over the slut's back. He lands a bunch more smacks across his ass. "Get dressed and get the fuck out of here. We're done with you."
The bartender pulls his pants on sniveling. Grabbing his shoes in one hand and his shirt in the other he turns to Michael, "Can I come back next week?" Michael doesn't answer. "Please?" Michael just continues to stare at him. The poor guy looks pathetic. He tries one more time. "Please?" Michael barely nods in response. "Thank you, Sir." His relief is evident as he quickly turns to leave before Michael has a chance to change his mind. Michael wonders what is it about some guys and their need to be treated like shit?
"What do you want to do now?" Michael asks Steven.
"How about a nap?" They smile at each other and head upstairs. They sleep well even with the volume turned way up to monitor the boy in the box. Truth be told the boy slept well too, until he pissed himself again.
He woke up as he felt the warm water tickling his legs. It's not that pissing himself was offensive anymore; it was that he didn't wake up first when he had to pee. He hadn't done that since he was about three years old. What the fuck was that about? Was he in such a deep sleep or was he getting a little whacko? The thought upset him. How long had he been in here? He had no fucking idea. It started Saturday night. It couldn't have been very late because they weren't at the club for very long. Then they came back here and played for just a little while so he'd probably been in the box since pretty early Saturday night. Then the thought occurred to him that he was thinking he' instead of I'. He was smart enough to figure out what that means; it means he is so miserable that he's disassociating himself from the event. That isn't a good sign. Okay, so it was early Saturday night. Then whoever it was woke him up in the morning by punching him in the balls and telling him he'd do it again if he fell back to sleep and he did fall asleep again so a lot of time must have passed. Then that other guy helped him because he was upset that they weren't feeding him or letting him out. That had to have been in the afternoon some time and then he went back to sleep but he had no idea how long he'd slept until Michael woke him up again. Then the orgasm, then Steven arriving, then the orgasm again, then he slept again... SHIT! It had to be Monday morning or damn close to it.
Fuck! He felt the panic starting to rise and tried his best to push it down again. They had to let him out to go to work, didn't they; or did they? His boss was in on it. Fuck! If they told him what they were doing to him he'd be all for it. The panic pushed its way back to the surface. He felt his stomach tighten, really tighten, then cramp. All of a sudden he had to go to the bathroom. No, no, no.... this can't be happening. Oh please no... but it happened. He messed himself and the despair and desperation washed over him. He hit bottom. Fuck... this ain't fun anymore, but what the hell can I do about it?
Moving is impossible. After being confined this long his body felt like dead weight. The dildo gag in his mouth prevented any movement of his head or any intelligible words from coming out. He took inventory of his situation. His balls have a dull ache that runs all the way around his back. His jaw aches as well from the dildo strapped into his mouth. His lips are wet and getting raw from constantly moving them around the dildo but he can't stop himself from doing it. He's starving and so thirsty he can't stand it. He desperately wants to move or change positions because he is sore from being in the same position for so long. He aches.... everywhere. He is wet and dirty and his own stink is starting to nauseate him. That's it! That's the breaking point! If I vomit in this position I could choke on my own puke. No fucken way am I letting that happen.
Steven jumped up and ran down the stairs as fast as he could with Michael right behind him. Michael grabbed the lid out of Steven's hands before he even had it open half way freeing Steven to rip the gag out of his mouth instantly. They were both simultaneously assessing the situation as they moved quickly.
Steven's voice was strong and steady as he clearly phrased his question, "Tell me exactly what's wrong so I can fix it."
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I just can't stand it anymore. I'm afraid I'm going to be sick."
"It's okay, I'm right here. Are you going to be sick?" Without waiting for an answer they lifted him out of the box in one quick easy motion and laid him on the floor ready to roll him over if he started vomiting.
With the fresh air and the reduced anxiety from knowing he was there he was already feeling better. "No. I think I'm okay now. I'm sorry. I really thought I might get sick."
"It's okay, don't be sorry. You did the right thing. I'm proud of you for using good judgment. Now I know I can trust you." Steven really means that. He was beginning to wonder if he could trust him to use good judgment.
"Michael is going to be pissed. He told me if I used my safe word it would look bad on you and you'd be thrown out of the club." Steven glares at Michael. Michael holds his hands up as if to surrender and steps back.
"Don't worry about that. Are you okay now?"
He has to think about it. "I'm miserable. I hurt everywhere and I messed myself. I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I'm really hungry too..... and thirsty......" he starts to cry. "I'm sorry, I know I'm not supposed to complain or wimp out."
Steven touches his face. "Sshhhh, quiet. You're not wimping out. You've been through a lot. You did great." He cried harder. All of the emotion was coming out. Steven held his face and tried to comfort him.
Michael leans back against the table and watches them as his cock grows hard in his pants. He finds it interesting and arousing that Steven makes no move to free him or release him. He doesn't even take the blindfold off. Sure, he's comforting him, but not letting him go. Very interesting, and very hot.
Steven continues to offer comfort. He stays beside him. He strokes his face. He tells him how well he's done, how proud he is of him. It works. He grows calmer. Michael watches in amazement.
Steven glances over at Michael before talking. He points out his own erection and then nods at Michael's, acknowledging he is aware of his hard-on as well as his own. "Listen to me, you did the right thing. You needed to use your safety signal and it worked perfectly. Humming I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy got my attention instantly. I want you to use it again if you have to. Promise me you will. I want you to promise me."
"I promise I will." It feels so good to have his concern and approval. I thought he'd be disappointed in me and it feels good to know he isn't disappointed, just concerned. I must be the luckiest man on earth.
"You know I love you, right?" Steven's voice is warm and gentle. I nod that I know he loves me and tell him that I love him too. "I know you do. Feeling better?" I tell him that I am feeling much better. "Good, and if you need me I want you to use your safety signal again, okay? You promised me. I want you to keep that promise." I promise him again that I would. "Good boy, very good, boy." My stomach clenches at the way he said, boy. "You make me so proud of you." I don't have to see his face; I can hear his smile in his voice. I love it when he's pleased.
Steven looks at Michael with a wicked smirk as he places the gag back in his boy's mouth and clasps it behind his head. His moan is so hot when he realizes what's happening and both Steven and Michael smile when they hear it. "For me baby. Make me proud of you. We'll keep this between us and when Michael gets back we'll let you out. We won't tell anyone you used your safe word." Without any instruction Michael helps Steven put him back in the box. They slam the lid hard for affect and high five each other as they leave the basement.
At the top of the stairs, Steven stops and turns to look at Michael who is a couple of steps lower. He likes the feeling of standing over him so he lingers there for a moment. "Well?" His look is a challenge.
"You did good," Michael acknowledges.
"Good?" Steven is still working the moment.
"Very good." Michael concedes.
"Your cock is rock hard and leaking pre-cum through your pants and the best you can do is very good?"
Michael reflexively touches the wet spot on his pants and smiles, "Masterful." He gives up the point to Steven.
"I think you owe me a blowjob." Steven pushes it further.
Michael smiles, "I'll fuck you. I think you deserve that."
"Fuck you!" Steven tells him as he turns and walks away knowing Michael is staring at his ass and getting off on it.
Michael catches up to him in the kitchen and playfully pins him against the counter by pushing his crotch against Steven's round muscular ass. Steven quickly turns around to face Michael square in the eyes. Michael breaks the silence that Steven is a master at letting linger between them. "Don't tell me you've never been fucked."
"Don't tell me you've never sucked dick." He holds it so steady. Their crotches are plastered against each other and they are both hard. They hold each other's attention. Michael moves forward increasing the pressure against their cocks. Steven reaches behind him and runs his fingers through Michael's hair. Michael leans in as if going for a kiss. Steven doesn't pull away. As Michael moves in closer Steven pulls back on Michael's hair leaving him with the choice of backing off or allowing Steven to inflict pain on him if he still wants to move in for a kiss. Stalemate! The moment is acknowledged and lost in a heartbeat and they step away from each other both feeling as if they've come out on top.
In the box.... well, he's counting in a vain attempt to keep track of time.
I'm sorry it has been so long between chapters. Due to a situation at work I've been working in three different states, Florida, Illinois, and California and commuting between them.
This chapter is short in an effort to pick up the mood and the thread of the story. Other chapters will be more timely.
Thank you all for your patience, understanding, and suppport.
regards, eric