Using Greg -- part 1 TheRigGuy@aol.com
This story is intended for adults only and contains material that is sexually oriented and may offend some people. If you are not of legal age to read adult material please stop reading now. This story is complete fiction.
Greg and I had been casual drinking buddies for a while, having met each other playing soft ball. He's an average, kind of nice looking guy, average build, pleasant natured. He's married but I always suspected he might be bi, so one day after the game I invited him over to my house for some beers instead of heading for the bar where we usually went. After we downed a couple I suggested we watch some porn videos and he enthusiastically agreed. I told him about some generic Viagra that I brought back from England when I was over there and we both decided to have one. We started with a straight video that is pretty vanilla stuff, endless tits and "suck n fuck", but before very long we get bored so I put a different one about an ordinary, nice looking, married, respectable sort of guy dressed in jeans, out having some beers at a straight bar, He gets into a conversation with a guy who talks him into coming to his place for a blow job, no reciprocation. Of course the guy is fairly drunk and very horny and this sounds pretty good to him, so they go to the other guy's place and as soon as they get there the guy slaps handcuffs and a gag on him and wrestles him to the floor. Meanwhile his roommate appears, a big muscular guy wearing only a leather jock and harness, and they start pulling, tearing and cutting off the guy's clothes while he struggles to get free. When he's totally naked they tie his legs and strap his nuts tight and then they clamp his nipples with tight alligator clips and he screams in pain. Then they start putting clothes pins in long lines all over his body while he struggles and cries...
While we watched the video we both were hard and rubbing ourselves but not exactly stroking and I noticed a nice big wet spot on Greg's jeans from his precum. I decided it was time. I stopped the video and said "I want to show you something." He complained about my stopping the video and said he really want to keep watching and get himself off but I insisted so he grudgingly said ok. I took him down to the basement and showed him my fully equipped dungeon with ring bolts in several places on one wall, cross beams and the floor, a leather sling, a spanking bench with leather straps for wrists and ankles, a Saint Andrew's cross with restraints at 4 corners, a doctor's examining table with restrains and stirrups, and hanging on the wall a variety of chains, ropes, whips, floggers, cat-o-nines, paddles and all sorts of restraint and torture devices. On a shelf below them was an assortment of dildos, clamps of various kinds, clothespins (some are made of metal), butt plugs, and a slew of unidentifiable insertion devices that range in diameter from needle to fist-size.
He was dumbfounded and trembling, struggling with dueling instincts to get the hell out or to stay and take it all in. It was obvious that staying was going to win that duel as he seemed glued to the spot where he was standing. I knew he was going to be mine. I told him to take his time, to look around all he wanted. He silently studied everything in the room, terrified but inescapably intrigued. I studied his reactions closely and noted that he kept looking back at the examination table. Finally he walked over to it and I saw him examine the leather restraints. He gingerly put his hand on one of the leather straps, feeling it with both fear and compulsion. Then he brought it to his nose and smelled it and I could see that he was intoxicated by the pungent odor. He held it to his cheek and I saw tears forming in his eyes. In a soft but commanding voice, deeper than he had heard from me before, I told him to strip and get on the table. He followed my order without speaking and without hesitation, as though he were hypnotized. Fully naked, he got up on the table. For a minute or so he stayed in a sitting position, then he laid back onto the table, his hands at his sides. I saw he was breathing heavily and his uncut cock was fully erect and pulsating. There was precum oozing out of the folds of the ample foreskin. I went to the table and raised the stirrups. I lifted his legs and positioned them before strapping them just below his knees and at his ankles. Then I went around the left side of the table and one-by-one lifted each leather restraint and laid it across his body at his waist, across his torso just below his armpits, and on his forehead. His arms were still at his sides, he made no effort to resist or escape but his breathing got heavier. He was moaning now and his hard dick was pulsating and jerking wildly, dripping precum onto his stomach. Taking my time, I went to the right side of the table and, one-by-one, I fastened the restraints tight across his trembling body. He was crying softly, party in anticipation of what he expected to happen, party from the mixture of shame and relief that he had abandoned himself to his innermost secret urges.
He waited with mounting fear and terror while I went to the shelf and wall which was then behind his head and out of sight. He heard me selecting instruments. I let him wait several minutes before I returned carrying a black leather gym bag filled with the selected items. I stood at the left side of the table, reached into the bag and brought out a handful of clothes pins. With skill and practiced care I attached all eight of them around his left nipple, squeezing each one until he winced with pain. By this time his nipple was fully, explosively erect. Then I went back in the gym bag and found one of the special metal clothes pins. Carefully, and with great precision, I clamped the very tip of his erect nipple with the metal pin that was designed for maximum pressure. He screamed with pain.
Ignoring his screams, I moved to the other side of the table and repeated the process. He was already struggling against the restraints and sobbing from the pain in his left nipple when I started to repeat the process around his right nipple. When I got to that final pin on the very tip of his right nipple he screamed again, louder, and begged me to take it off, to let him go. I continued to ignore his screams and pleas. I simply stood there, watching him suffer.
There is no expression on my face, neither sympathy nor pleasure, only patience while I gave him time to work through the pain, to accept it, and to realize this was only the beginning of what I was going to do to him. When I recognized that expression of acceptance and pained resignation on his face, I reached into my leather bag again...
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