This story in 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 3: The morning after
I'd been awake for a while and was beyond miserable. I went from dreading their coming back to being ready to beg them to come back. I'd rather everything they did to me instead of this.
I jump when I hear the lock turn and my heart is pounding by the time the door opens. They walk in freshly showered and dressed, each holding a great smelling cup of coffee. It was totally humiliating to me.
They wasted no time. "You look and smell like the total shit you are." Steven did the talking as Sir pressed his booted heel down on my balls. He picked his foot up and slammed it back down on my balls again. I choked on the pain it caused. "You are such a fucking low life." He undid the strap and pulled the ball gag out of my mouth. My jaw was stiff and had a dull ache to it. My mouth and throat were so dry and I could smell the piss on my own breath. "What, no thank you for treating you so good?" His body language and his smile told me he was really feeling good about himself.
I tried to thank him but nothing came out. Between my throat being so dry and the screaming I'd done last night I could barely croak out a sound. Sir poured some of his coffee on the floor in front of me and tells me to lap it up. I can't believe how good it feels and tastes as I lap it off the basement floor. I thank him when he pours out more for me. I'm so grateful for it.
"Look at how fucking low you are. You're lapping coffee off the floor and you're thanking us for it." Sir kicks my balls again. I pause in my drinking for a second to let the pain pass and then start lapping up the coffee again.
Sir takes over. "Okay, here's the deal. We're going to give you a one-time offer. You can get cleaned up, get dressed and leave and never come back, and I do mean never. Or, you can get on your knees and beg us to make you suffer more. There's no in between. This is not a discussion. Take it or leave it." I didn't expect this. I'm not sure what I did expect, but it wasn't this.
"May I ask a question?" He nods. "Steven, where does this leave us? Are we still friends?" Steven has been a part of my life for more nearly thirty years. We've always been friends. We went through school together, college together, we even travel and have taken vacations together. I'm hoping that this experience hasn't ended that friendship.
He thinks for a minute. "Either way, it can't go back to the way it was. We'll never be equals again now that I know what a fucking low life you are and how much I enjoy punishing and humiliating you. You need this, but I need it too. I won't go back, you can't go back. I'm going to treat you like shit and I expect to be treated with respect. I also expect obedience. You can expect pain and suffering. At least if you stay I'll respect you for being honest and having the courage to face who you are. I think we'll be able to figure it out. If you leave I don't know what will happen."
"Will you tell the others what happened here?"
"Yes. I'm very proud of what I did. You should be too. If you're ashamed of yourself it's your problem. I have nothing to be ashamed of." I understand his point but it's easier for him. Look at the position I'm in while he's standing over me telling me what he's decided my choices are. I know he's right though. Things will never be the same. Maybe it's some kind of weird logic, but I am sort of proud of myself that I can take everything that's happened to me and still be okay. "As far as the others they're already kind of weirded out but I'm not going to worry about them. To be honest, I think we've outgrown them anyway. They kind of live through us and that's okay if we're on the same path but I'm not changing my path for them." I'd been having those same feelings.
Sir lands another kick to my balls before they undo my arms and legs. "Your clothes and keys are in the bathroom right outside that door. Either get on your knees or get the fuck out of here."
I'd already decided what I'm doing. I'm stiff and sore as I move. Everything hurts. My balls are killing me. I have a hard time pulling myself up on my knees. "Sir, I have to pee so bad I don't think I can hold it." Wetness forms on the end of my dick as I struggle to hold it. There's no response from either of them. "Thank you for letting me stay. Please, I need to suffer more. Please make me suffer more, please." Piss dribbles out my dick landing on the floor. I struggle so hard to hold it but more dribbles out. A squirt of piss shoots from my dick before I can clamp down tighter and stop it. I'm trembling from my effort to hold it in. I'm totally embarrassed. Men don't piss themselves. I beg them again.
"We're just giving you what you asked for. You begged us to make you suffer." They just sip their coffee and watch me. I stay on my knees struggling to hold my piss in. They make themselves more comfortable. My piss pushes up my dick and enough to form a puddle escapes me before I can make it stop. It doesn't help; in fact it's much worse. It pushes out again and once it's flowing I can't stop it again until a lot comes out. I finally make it stop. The three of us look at the puddle in front of me. They say nothing, they don't have to. I bend over to lick up my mess. I lick and suck it up. "When you're done come out to the yard." I suck up as much as I can and lick up the rest. My legs are like rubber as I stand for the first time in hours. I find my way outside realizing that the house is huge and get back on my knees in front of them.
"Take off the humbler." I twist it, pull it back between my legs, and open it releasing my balls. I pull and stretch my sack and rub it to get them back in shape. Oh fuck they're so sore. "Take the plug out." This is so humiliating with them watching. I reach behind to pull it out. I can't believe how hard I have to pull to get it out and how much it hurts. I can't control the gas escaping me and I'm mortified by it. I lay the plug in the grass beside the humbler. "Take off the ankle and wrist restraints." I do it laying them besides the rest of the stuff. "Now the collar." It comes off also. Sir holds a chain collar out for me to see. "If we put this on, we lock it closed and we hold the keys, not you. Do you want it?" I respectfully say yes. "Then kiss it." I do it and he puts it on and locks it shut. "There's the garden hose and some stuff. Get cleaned up."
It's embarrassing to clean up in front of them but it feels so good! I scrub myself clean. It hurts like hell to get all the wax out of my body hair and off my skin. They wait patiently talking to each other as I bathe. There's no towel so I kneel before them dripping wet. They inspect me to see if I'm clean. I scrubbed so hard to get everything off and I'd rinsed my mouth over and over again.
I kneel in the grass as they have another cup of coffee. This is the best I've felt since I arrived here. I nearly jump out of my skin as a young guy walks out of the house into the yard carrying a couple of bags. He looks late teens/early twenties. He's tall and thin like only someone that young can be. He smirks as he walks past me and puts the bags on the table. He talks to Sir, "Good morning Mr. Delorean. Here's your order. It comes to $10.50." He looks down at me still smirking. "You got a new one I see." I flush with embarrassment. I feel really naked now.
"Hey Curtis. Want to earn a few extra bucks?" Mr. Delorean asks. I finally have a name. I wonder again if he knows or cares what my name is.
"Sure. I always like the work you have for me." He looks at me again with a big smile on his face.
"Cool. Spank that monkey for me. The usual deal, a dollar a hit. Make him count" They sit back to watch me get spanked by this young punk.
"Bend over monkey. I want your ass in the air and your face in the grass." He pushes me over and pushes my face into the grass with his foot. He sticks a finger right up my asshole and pulls my ass up higher by my hole. "Count them out for me, One, Sir." He smacks my ass and I count out in the pattern he told me to. It stings but it isn't too bad. He doesn't hit that hard. He's getting paid by the number of smacks and not by how hard so he has no motivation to hit me hard, but he also has no motivation to stop. I keep counting out as this punk whacks my ass. It's stinging hot as he gets in the twenties. It hurts as he goes above thirty. It's really starting to get to me as he hits fifty. I start to panic when he hits 65 and there's no end in sight. Tears are streaming down my face as I choke out eighty. I'm sobbing by 95 and praying that 100 will be the magic number. It's not. I can't stop myself from dropping to the ground and putting my hands over my ass to try to protect it. I stop counting and plead and beg with all I have trying to get him to stop. I try crawling away but he just moves with me. Finally he stops and I hold my ass sobbing. He picks me up by the waist and drags me backward dumping me at Sir's feet so he can inspect my ass. He runs his fingers over it and I tremble in fear that he'll hit me again. My ass is crimson red and has black and blue bruising from both last night and today. "I'll bet you're glad you stayed." He says to me as he gives my ass a light smack making me jump more than I should. Hey all laugh. To Curtis, he compliments the job he did on me and asks if he wants to do more to me because they're so tired from last night. He readily agrees.
"Come on monkey, time to give you some exercise." He puts the humbler back on me pulling my balls way back and hooking it behind my thighs. My balls are already so sore. He shoves the plug back up my aching ass. I watch as he takes off his sneakers and socks. "My favorite game is fetch." He throws his sneaker across the yard and looks at me, "I throw, you fetch." Oh fuck! I crawl after his sneaker, pick it up, and crawl back. He slams me across my aching ass. He throws the sneaker again and this time tells me to carry it back in my mouth and to move faster. I take off after it again. The humbler is killing my balls and the plug up my ass is sending waves of pain up inside me. I smell his feet as I hold the sneaker in my mouth. "Not fast enough," he says as he smacks my ass again. "Let me show you." He throws the sneaker and smacks my ass as I crawl to get it telling me to move faster. My fucking ass is killing me so I move all out in an effort to reduce the punishment to my ass. He throws it a bunch of times and I'm sweating and panting in my effort to move fast enough. My arms are like rubber and I don't know how much longer I can do it. I'm so thankful when Sir tells him it's enough.
I realize for the first time that he and Steven are eating breakfast as they watch the show. They have fresh bagels, butter, cream cheese, and a bunch of other stuff to eat. I haven't eaten since yesterday and I'm starving. I'm practically drooling watching them. They invite Curtis to join them, which he gladly does. I stay on my knees watching them, dyeing for something to eat. They eat slowly and leisurely ignoring me totally. When they are finally done they ask Curtis to feed me before he leaves. He comes back out from the house with a dog's dish filled with dry dog food and places it on the floor in front of me. I look from the bowl to them. They have big smiles on their faces. I look back at the bowl trying to convince myself to eat it. While I'm hesitating, Curtis takes his dick out and pisses into the bowl as I watch in shock. I look up and they're still smiling.
Steven says, "If you don't want that I can shit and you can eat that instead." I drop my face into the bowl and eat the piss covered dog food thankful it's not worse. I shock myself with the thought that it's really not so bad. Steven pulls me back from my thoughts with his excited chatter, "He's fucking amazing!! He gets a boner eating breakfast." They all laugh at me as I continue eating with my rock hard dick bobbing up and down. Curtis says good bye to them and ruffles my hair as he leaves saying, be a good boy." I say nothing but think to myself "Little punk!"
After breakfast, Sir asks Steven if he wants to play a game. Steven' s excited by the idea as Sir goes inside. He comes out with a couple of tennis racquets and a bucket full of balls.
"There's a court?" Steven asks.
"Not a court, a target." He answers smiling.
I'm led to the far side of the yard by the fence and made to bend over with my ass in the air and my face in the grass. I know what's coming; I just don't know how much it will hurt. He explains the rules. "His balls are three points, his asshole is worth two, and the rest of his ass is worth one. We'll each hit five balls and then play again "You," he hits me with the racquet, "call the points out and we'll keep score."
I hear the racquet hit the ball and second later it slams into my ass with a sharp impact of pain. I take a breath and call out, one to indicate where it hit me. The second ball misses but I jump when it slams into the fence. The next shot is a direct hit to my asshole and the butt plug pulls the pain all the way in. "Two" I call out and I hear them laugh. The next two hit my ass. Sirs total is five points.
I dread Steven. I know how good he is with a racquet. I hear the difference in the strength of his swing as the pain explodes up my asshole. "Two," I call out adding to my humiliation. The next swing and my balls explode in pain taking a direct hit. I hear them high five each other and don't say anything as I try to catch my breath. Another direct hit to my balls sends me reeling with pain. Another direct hit to my asshole, which hurts like hell, but I'm actually relieved and thankful it didn't hit my balls again. Amazing how quickly I sink to lower levels. It's like a gift when the next ball catches me on my left cheek. Stevens's final score is eleven.
They play five games. Steven wins every one of them. My balls are killing me. My asshole hurts like hell. My ass is covered in dark red circles, and black and blues. I'm made to gather all the balls on my hands and knees and carry the bucket back to them in my mouth. They take drinks and excitedly talk about the fun they just had. I'm made to drink from the garden hose, glad that it's not someone's piss.
"Another game?" He asks Steven who readily agrees. "How's your pitching arm?" The humbler is removed and I'm given an old torn and stained jock to put on. I'm also given a catchers mask and made to stand against the fence facing them. "A hit is worth one, cock and balls worth two. The best part of the game is he gets to watch it coming. If he moves we will make him hurt so fucking bad he'll never forget it." I plaster myself to the fence and determined not to move. It takes everything I have not to jump out of the way and let the ball hit me in the chest. It really hurts. I counted the balls as I put them in the bucket and I know there are at least fifty. I know they won't stop until it's empty. My balls only take a couple of hits but my whole body is now covered in crimson circles and bruises by the time the bucket is empty.
Again I'm made to crawl around to gather up all the balls. I carry them in my mouth and lay them at Sir's feet. "We're going to give you a break." I'm so relieved when he tells me that. "This time, face the fence." My heart sinks. I can't fucking believe I've got to endure this again. I hang my head, crawl to my place, and get in position. No part of my body escapes the impact of the balls hitting me. I hurt everywhere. When they're done I gather the balls again and bring them to them. They're sitting and talking about how taxing the game is on them and that they're getting tired.
"I have one more special game." He tells us and leads us into the house where he has a poolroom. The room is great and the table is awesome. I'd love to play o this table. "Lose the jock and get on the table and spread your legs." Oh fuck! Oh fuck no! My balls are already hurting. I obey him. I watch him line up the shot and hold my breath as the queue ball slams into my exposed nuts. The pain shoots right up my stomach. "One rack each." He announces as he takes the next shot and I know that my balls are going to get slammed a total of thirty two times. Tears stream down my face just from the thought of it. The actual pain is worse than I ever imagined. I'm helped from the table and allowed to lie on the floor until Steven drops just my pants at my feet and tells me it's time to leave. I pull them on and crawl to the door where they exchange good-byes and talk about how much fun they had. I'm allowed to stand just before leaving. Just as I stand, Sir back kicks me in the balls and I drop back down to my knees. He winks at Steven and turns away; Steven pulls me up by my collar and says, "Let's go."
The end of Chapter Three
I'm really getting off on writing this story. Many have written to tell me they're enjoying it. Many have said that they didn't catch the subs name. I've done that on purpose to emphasize that his only purpose is to suffer. I get off on the fact that they don't give a crap about him and don't even care if they know his name.
Thanks for reading... Eric in South Florida