Message-ID: <36180asstr$1019297403@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: "Edward Hyde" Mime-Version: 1.0 X-Original-Message-ID: X-OriginalArrivalTime: 19 Apr 2002 20:15:19.0269 (UTC) FILETIME=[ED46F150:01C1E7DE] X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 19 Apr 2002 16:15:18 -0400 Subject: {ASSM} "Life in Hell," mm, nc, bdsm, tort, forced pleasure Date: Sat, 20 Apr 2002 06:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, RuiJorge "Life in Hell" by Edward Hyde Story Codes: MM, nc, bdsm, tort, forced pleasure. This story is copyright 2002, by Edward Hyde. It should not be read by any person who cannot legally read sexually explicit stories. I make it freely available to any web site that does not requirement payment to read stories, as long as I am notified and proper attribution is given. Newsgroup writers write for feedback, not money. Please send comments, praise, criticism to edward_hyde@hotmail.com. I promise to respond. ---------------- "Life in Hell" You can't know what they can do to you, do with you, until they have you. Master Jack told me that anyone can be broken, even he could be, but the real man is the one who knows about this and can use it against others for his own benefit. The others are made to be used. He told me he took great pride in breaking me and using me. He was stroking my penis and balls while he told me this, making me hard and desirous so I would love what he told me. ------------- Usually they make sure you have no pleasure. Your penis is caged in a metal mesh sleeve that wouldn't let you get hard even if your weren't continuously tormented. Urine will flow through the end, and they rinse you off every day, but you might as well have been amputated, so useless is it for sex. They don't pay much other attention to it. You are a slave and aren't to have pleasure. Your purpose is to give pleasure to the Masters. The part of your sex they pay attention to is your testicles. Oh your balls get great attention. They use metal bands to make them stand freely from your body, not only to be out where they can be handled but to stretch them ever further from your groin. They ache. They always ache, so you're always reminded of your place, and they are easily accessible to the Masters, who use them to control you. More than anything else they like hurting your balls. I've counted what they do. They squeeze them and twist them. They stretch them out. They hit them with batons. They hang heavy weights from them and make you stand that way for hours or days. They compress them slowly in a vice. They use syringes to fill your scrotum with burning fluids so that you cry and thrash for hours, unable to reduce the pain, or sleep, or rest, crying and moving with your gonads swinging like apples in front of your thighs. I've seen them push needles directly into the testes. Mostly though, the thing they like best is to use electricity. They belt the two balls tightly together and have a contact on each side, so that the current flows all the way through both. They turn on the current not quite high enough to let you pass out, then they leave you to suffer while they do other things. Because you can't help crying and thrashing they always know you're conscious. If you become quiet they turn everything off and bring you around. Then they begin again. "Master Jack, please, please, oh God please! I'll be so good for you! Please stop it. I'll do everything you want. I won't cause trouble. Please Master Jack, please!" "I know you will my sweet bitch. I know you'll be a pussy for me. You already are. Now we'll continue your discipline." You'd tear your balls off if you could. They use electricity other ways, too. Sometimes they'll push a metal dildo up your ass. They have a bare wire catheter than goes all the way up your penis into your bladder. They enjoy seeing the different ways you twitch and jerk. But whatever, usually they let current go through your balls. They are the main source of the Masters' entertainment. ------------- The first time they let me in the house I was terrified, but they had let me in because I was so good. My balls were stretched out further than usual, with extra rings, so they hurt even more than normally, but I was warned not to show any pain. One of the Masters joked that it was 'formal wear.' For some reason my hands were shackled to my slave collar, up behind my neck instead of behind my waist or to a belt. I think they liked the variety. My feet were hobbled with a short cable, but once inside I had to stay on my knees anyway. I was not completely blindfolded for this, because I had to move around, so there were tiny slits to look out of. I knelt on the carpet close to the table, listening to the guests laugh and joke, head down as they required. Other slaves were there too but I don't know how many. One for each guest? It was hard not to squirm because my balls hurt so much. Finally Master Jack called me and I shuffled over on my knees. "This is the best bitch I have," he told the others while he stroked my hair. One or two of them made wisecracks. "No, really. It broke so beautifully. Used to be this tough, macho guy, and I had so much fun killing that part off. Now you're really sweet, aren't you?" He was caressing my shoulder, running a hand down over my back. "Yes, Master Jack." "And you really love me for what I do to you, don't you?" I didn't answer at first. Please don't make me say that! "Don't you? You'd best answer truthfully or it's the cross for you." No! "Yes, Master Jack, I do love you so." "I know you do. And you love the discipline I give you, don't you." "Yes, Master Jack. I love my discipline." "Are you a good bitch slave?" "Yes, Master Jack. I always want to be good for you." "And you love it when I fuck you?" "Yes Master Jack. You fuck me so good." He had me crawl under the table to his chair and move all the way up between his legs. I bumped against one of the other slaves on the way, though the table is enormous. Like all the other men, Master Jack was naked under his kilt. I had thought he would want me to suck him off, because he was telling the others how good a cocksucker I had become, but right now he was soft and just wanted me to take him in my mouth. His penis was a little damp and it was less sour than usual, as though he had just washed. It is always long, even when he isn't erect, and I sucked it all into my mouth. I know his penis better than anything else in the world, better than my own face. He put a hand to the back of my head and pulled my face all the way up against his belly, so that it was difficult to breathe and his pubic hairs tickled my nose. His sexual scent was powerful down here. I knelt there during the dinner, filled with his aroma and taste, his long and spongy wiener filling my mouth almost to my throat, sucking and swallowing softly to please him. The sucking helped take my mind off my balls. During the meal he told me he had to urinate and that I shouldn't spill any. He put his hand to the back of my head again, to ensure a snug fit, and pissed a long and steady stream. Even concentrating on swallowing and not coughing or spilling I was struck by how especially bitter and pungent it was this time. Still I managed to do my slave job, not at all like the time I'd choked and lost so much of it that he had given me a full-day torture as a lessen and then had had everyone use me as their toilet. I think I almost died. It was so bad that Master Jack stopped hurting me for the better part of a week afterwards, so that I could recuperate, but I had learned. It can always be worse. Later he told me the pungency came from eating asparagus. ---------------- The cross is the worst thing, not because it hurts more than anything else - they can always hurt you as much as they want - but because they let it go on and on when you're on it. It's shaped like a cross, though with broad beams, maybe a foot wide, covered with some kind of material, and it's on a hinge. They lay it down with the hinge and you are fastened to it before it is raised again. It has a large brass phallus that they have to work your anus over, until it is deep inside you and you are flush against the boards. This will hold you up when they raise the cross, that and the leather straps that pull your arms wide and your legs down. The phallus is attached to electricity, and it is hollow so that they can shoot air or liquid into you and make you hold it as long as they want. They can do anything they want. They've always used electricity when I've been on the cross or seen anyone else on it. They usually push the metal tube up your penis, all the way to your bladder, and fix it there. They wire your balls. They push fish hooks attached to wires through your nipples, two to each nipple, one on each side Then they raise the cross and the fun begins. They send electricity to different contact points. I don't know if there's any pattern. They'll do a nipple, the ass and balls, the ass and penis. It will start low, then they'll rush the stuff so you're jerking and yelling. They use rubber blocks so you don't break your teeth but otherwise they don't gag you. They want everyone to hear. After a few minutes the electricity goes off and you're gasping and sweating. You're winded after the first dose. Then it starts again, through a different wire. During the first part Masters often will be gathered below with other slaves, giving out their daily punishments for all their infractions, first hurting them and then making them give suck while you shake on the cross. After that they'll take the other slaves to their stalls and chain them up for the night and do whatever else to them that comes to mind, while you hang there. It goes on all night long. When the electricity goes off you fall into a stupor and you're too tired to hold yourself up, but then it comes on again and you can't help moving or help the sounds you make. All night long. If you're chained in your stall, hogtied for the night with a dildo up your ass and sucking on a penis gag, you'll hear it all night. Inchoate cries, then silence, then cries. They use the cross for serious punishments, but sometimes they do it for no reason at all. The Masters call it "party time," a special treat for themselves. The slave is chosen by lot. They've also had real parties, with outsiders, and always have used the cross as a centerpiece. I did a party up there because Master Jack likes to put me on display. ---------------- This is how Master Jack decided to addict me to him, after I had been broken. He tied me spread-eagle on my back on a bed in the house, a very large bed. I was afraid. I'd never been on the bed before. He put a rubber blindfold on me, one that went over my head like a swim cap and all the way to my cheeks. There was a slot cut for my nose. I was afraid because Master Jack had taken off my penis guard and my testicle rings. I knew he was going to play with me, and before when he'd taken my genitals out it was always to hurt me. He loves to hear me whimper and moan, especially when he has ordered me to be quiet. It gives him an excuse to hurt me more, for discipline. He loves it when I can't help begging even though I know begging won't help. It makes him all the happier when afterwards I have to tell him I love him and then suck him sweetly or tongue his anus around and around. I listened as hard as I could, hearing Master Jack moving around the room, doing something and talking with another Master. They were going to play with each other I thought, and both would get to play with me. What would they do to me? Would they do one of those things Master Jack most enjoys, or would they try something new, to see how much they could make me demean myself? I try to be good when they do those things. I try so hard. But they always push things past my limits and after I cry or protest or jerk, Master Jack says he has to have to punish me again. I must have dozed off. When I felt the bed shift I tensed up. I couldn't help that, even though it was useless. Someone moved right up to me. "Hello precious." It was Master Jack. "Are we comfortable?" "Yes Master Jack. Thank you, sir." "Well, let's see if we can make you feel even better." His hand touched my balls. It was time to start hurting me before he fucked me, but, no. No. What was it? He caressed my balls with just the tips of his fingers. It tickled. He went around and around them. Oh God. He'd never done anything like that before. Tickle my balls. His fingers moving around and around. He did the same to my inner thighs, then went back to my balls. I felt my penis stir. How long since I'd felt that? His fingertips went around my testicles once more, then brushed along the whole length of my penis. It began to grow. I could feel it. He stroked the whole length again. It surged. Oh God. Oh God. Sex pleasure. My breathing became shallow. I tried to control it, to be still. He stroked my penis again. Again. He caressed the whole length, beginning behind my balls, on that sensitive place just in front of my anus, and brushing lightly all the way over my balls and along my shaft, to the head, not missing anything. I made a noise in my throat and pushed my penis up toward him and he stopped. "No you don't, you little slut. I control everything that happens. If you know what's good for you, you'll control yourself and not try to steal pleasure. I think some discipline may be in order. "I'm sorry Master Jack. I'll be good. I promise I will. Please forgive your little slave." ------------------ Master Jack told me they loved making the cross. He told me this while he was caressing me and kissing me on the mouth before they raised me up one time. I was crying and shaking and I asked him in my little, quavering slave voice why they had to hurt me so much, because I would always be as good as I could possibly be for him. "Oh, this is a win-win situation," he told me. "It's good for both of us." He kissed me deeply, his lips so full and warm, and he had me suck on his tongue like I'd been taught. He licked my eyes, moved to my ear, sucked on my ear lobe. He went on. "You know you have the softest ear lobes in the world." His voice was husky, the way it gets when he is the most excited. He went on talking in that breathy voice, almost a whisper, his mouth right to my ear. His breath was warm on my ear. We were so intimate. "This is a win-win situation, my little bitch. It is wonderful for both of us. For you, well it helps you repress that horrid, testosterone personality you used to have and fully develop your sweet, slave personality." He chuckled the way you might chuckle indulgently to your child and kissed me again, moving his tongue over mine. I have to kiss him lovingly, and his mouth is so sensual. He lifted his head to look me in the face. "And for me? I get such enormous pleasure from it. So be a good slut and learn your place." ---------------- I was a tough guy. I was. It wasn't a joke. I could handle myself. I wasn't a bastard but I'd been in some fights. That was so long ago. It doesn't seem like me. I had a big dick that I loved to fuck with, and girlfriends who loved it. The night I was taken was like any other. I didn't notice anything odd or out of place. I left this bar and walked across the street and three guys with guns forced me into a van. That's all there was to it. They gagged and tied me, blindfolded me, and drove for hours. In my stall here, wherever 'here' is, they tied me spread-legged, arms pulled upward, still blindfolded. They took off my gag and let me yell. They put the testicle ring on me and attached a heavy weight to it, to dangle between my legs. Then they just walked out and closed the door. You can't know what it was like. I tried to be tough but I couldn't do anything and they just waited me out, let me go from yelling and cursing to crying to begging. It was hours, forced to stand, my balls pulled down from my body. I think I was mostly out of it when Master Jack came in to whip my backside. He ordered me to count the welts, and I tried not to, but he kept up and in the end I did everything he said. I was bargaining and begging, offering money, anything. He added another weight to my balls and left me alone again. More hours. I drifted in and out. I couldn't stop writhing around. It's their secret, not the amount of pain but the fact that they can keep giving it forever and you can't even move. I was moaning and whimpering. I remember hearing someone crying and then realizing it was me. When Master Jack came back he whipped my front, again making me count the strokes. This time I did everything he said. I was so meek. I whimpered and cried and said "please Master" and everything. When he was done with the whipping he set enough slack in the rope that I could kneel in front of him. He put his penis to my face and told me to suck him. "Slut, you'd better be sweet and loving and make me feel better than I've ever felt, or things will get worse for you." You learn to embrace your slave personality right away. I'd never had a penis in my mouth before. I'd never tasted one. I tried to give him pleasure, tried to know what to do. What had my girlfriends done that I'd especially liked? I guess I sucked him acceptably. He spurted into me and I swallowed it all like a good slut. It was the first thing I'd had to drink since they'd taken me. Then he pulled the rope up so I was standing, added another weight to my balls, and left again. So it went. Everything blended together. The next time, I think, was when he fucked my ass and made me clean him with my mouth. I worked hard to do a good job, to get it completely clean for him, licking every part of his penis thoroughly, again and again until I couldn't make out any flavor of shit. I didn't care that I was belching and heaving. He bragged about how ridiculously easy it was to break someone. He said they hadn't let me drink anything for three days, or eat for a week, and had used hurting to keep me awake almost the entire time. When he stuck his penis in my mouth and told me to drink his piss, I was so thirsty I couldn't get enough of it. About that time they took the weights off my balls and started using electricity instead. --------------- On the bed, I held my ass tightly down, not moving my hips at all, showing him I could control myself. After a minute he began again, alternating the strokes, first ticking my balls, then stroking up my shaft to my dick head. My dick felt so full, so engorged, not just a penis anymore. The second stroke to the head and I felt it move under his hand, pulling upward. "I told you not to move, you worthless bitch." He took my balls in his hands and began to squeeze. "Please Master Jack, I didn't do that. Really I didn't. It does that on it's own. I'm sorry Master Jack. I can't control it. Ohh..!" I stopped talking because he was squeezing so hard that I had to gasp and wriggle on the bed. He squeezed for several minutes, doing it hard so I couldn't help responding, then loosening his grip, then squeezing again. When I was out of breath and covered in sweat he stopped squeezing me and began the strokes on my penis again. It had gone all the way down, but it grew through the pain. He is so adept. He knows just how to do it. He knows everything about controlling me. In a few minutes I was right where he wanted me, caught between the throbbing in my testes and the throbbing in my dick head. He leaned over my face. "I know you can't control it, you sweet thing." He chuckled, petting my dick. "But look who likes the discipline." ---------------- There must be at least eight or ten slaves at one time. I don't know because I don't see the others much, and I don't know if there are many changes. I've never talked with one of the others. I think we each have our own little stall or cell. Mine is almost pitch black when the light is out. Every sleep period they will bind me in a different position, spread-eagled, stretched upward, bent over a rail, hog-tied. My arms have never been free, not for a second, the whole time I've been here. They'll never be free again. A slave doesn't get to control its body. We have to clean ourselves and brush our teeth, but even then our arms are strapped together at elbow and wrist so it is difficult. They make us do chores, pulling carts or using rakes or brooms or such. Occasionally two or three slaves will have to work together, but they've told us that a single whisper will get a day on the cross, and they'd do it. They have open tortures, and that is where I've seen the most slaves at a time. A slave who needs discipline will be hurt for hours, while the rest of us have to watch, and it is where the Masters get the most inventive. They love this so much that they will have the rest of us suck on them almost continually during it. Master Jack came in me three times during one torture, in huge amounts. ---------------- He went back to stroking me. "You know why I chose you to be mine? Oh partly it was so much fun to break such a macho asshole. But partly it was because you have such a big monkey. Your monkey loves me, because I dominate you. Feel how it strains up under my hands? It loves me. You think you hate being disciplined, but your monkey shows your real feelings." My penis surged under his hands again. ---------------- I saw my reflection in a mirror a few weeks back, just in passing. I didn't recognize myself. I was so thin and so tentative in my gestures. I didn't recognize the expression on my face. My arms looked natural, held behind my back. They make sure you don't get much sun, so I was pale, almost white, my body naked of all hair, my testicles standing out from me like plums, my sheathed penis like a little branch. I was standing beside Master Jack and my image deferred to his, acted like an extension of him, like women had acted to me. I was beautiful. ---------------- "I haven't even given your monkey true pleasure, yet, just a few caresses. How do you think it would respond to real loving? Feel this." My dick head was taken in his mouth and all I could feel was wet heat and soft mouth flesh on me. I worked as hard as I could to keep my hips still. It was so good. I was so high. I was going to come. I was going to come. I could feel it throughout the whole length of my penis. And then he took his mouth off me and my dick head was hanging in the cool air, not touching anything at all. "You love this, don't you, precious?" "Yes, Master Jack. Yes. I love it. Please do me some more." "Certainly. In a minute." He spent the minute squeezing my balls, making me whimper. When he was done my dick was just a penis again. He leaned down and sucked it back into his mouth, sucked it in hard, then pleasured it with his tongue. It surged again and soon I was as high as before, getting close. It had been forever. He used hands and mouth to play with me, stopping to hurt my balls, then playing with my penis again. My breathing was ragged, shallow, almost gasping. He pulled off me again. I was so close, I couldn't stand it. "Please let me come, Master Jack. Please do it. I love you so much, Master Jack." "Let you come? Nonsense! Where did you ever get that idea? Orgasm isn't for you. Orgasm is for Masters. Your job is to *give* pleasure. If I let you have a tiny taste of heaven it's just a little benevolence. Don't you dare orgasm, or I'll punish you more than you've ever experienced. Do you understand, slut?" "Yes Master Jack. I understand. I'm sorry." "And you'll make sure to never orgasm if I play with your monkey?" "Yes Master. I promise." Oh God, oh God, oh God! He began stroking me again, those light little stokes. Once in awhile he squeezed my testicles again, but then he'd pleasure me more. I didn't want it to end, but I was crazy because he wouldn't take me all the way there. He took my dick head into his mouth again. Oh God, that. It was so unworldly good, tongue and lips all over me. He took his mouth off me long enough to say my pre-cum tasted sweet, then went down on me again. I couldn't take it. I felt it through my whole penis. It was going to happen and he was going to hurt me bad. The vibrations were starting. Don't let them start! Let them come! Don't let them come! "Master Jack, I'm going to come! I'm going to come now! I can't help it, Master Jack!" He pulled off me, circled the base of my dick head with a finger and thumb, and squeezed hard, holding it and holding it, hard, harder, until the vibrations finally went away. A few minutes and he let go and left my dick swaying in the air. I was still panting. "That's a sweet slave. Always let me know so we can stop things. That's very good. You know you're my favorite because you're so obedient. That's why I let your monkey out of its cage and played with it. But you have to be very, very good to get such a treat. Now we'll let you rest a bit, so all that sex feeling can flow out of you. Maybe we'll play again later if you're good. Tell me you love me." "Thank you, Master Jack. Thank you. I love you, Master Jack. I love you." He left the room and closed the door and I lay there with my penis resting on my belly. I could feel slime oozing onto me. My dick didn't want to go down. ---------------- I don't know. I don't know. Master Jack told me they will kill me one day, but maybe he's just scaring me. He said they'll torture me to death once my looks start to leave me, that they'll do it over a two or three day period and they'll make me bring them off again and again during it. It will be a festival. When it is done they'll butcher me and feed my corpse to the other slaves. "It's the best time of all," he told me while he caressed my penis and kissed me. "We get more pleasure then than at any other time." "But Master Jack," I said, because he had given me permission to ask questions, "Why will a person you're torturing to death keep working to give you orgasms?" "They can't help themselves, pussy. Any more than you can right now. You'll be good to me right up to the end. Then I'll get to break another man and turn him into a sweet slave." I don't know. I haven't seen a festival, but I think they killed a slave. He was on the cross but not just overnight. Three days. They never took him down. The last day I don't think he even noticed what they were doing to him. I was taken to the house for a guest to play with, and when I was brought back he was gone and I never saw him again. A few days later Master Jack brought me meat to eat. I almost never get meat. He said he had a treat for me, that it was the killed slave's phallus. I don't know. It looked like a big penis, the head and all, if it had been chopped off and smoked for a long time, but I couldn't tell. Who's ever seen a cooked penis? Master Jack had me eat it like a prick, like a corn dog, taking bites from the head first, then working my way down to the end. It was smoky and delicious and tasted, how to say it, a little uriney all the way through. Then I had meat every day for several days. ---------------- "Hello my sweet little shit." It was Master Jack. I guess I had dozed off again. "Were we sleeping peacefully?" "I think so, Master Jack." "Did I give you permission to sleep?" I stopped breathing, because I knew what would happen now. "No Master Jack. I'm sorry Master Jack. I'll do better. I'll be sure to stay awake. Please give me another chance. I'll do it. I know I can." I knew what was going to happen. I started crying a little while I begged him. Neither crying nor begging would help. I had to be disciplined. "After I gave you a treat no slave ever gets, monkey pleasure! And this is how I'm rewarded! How many Masters do you think would suck on their bitch's cock?" "I'm sorry Master Jack! Please! I'm sorry! You're so good to me. Please let me try again. I know I can do better for you! I'm sorry I let you down! I love you so much!" "Shut up! You're disgusting. You need to be punished. Now ask me to discipline you. Tell me how much you need me to drive out your disobedience and make you good." I was crying so much I almost couldn't talk, but I had to or it would be even worse. "I'm sorry my Master. I'm so disobedient and willful. Please punish me to make me a sweet slave to you." I had to stop and catch me breath before I could go on. I knew what to say. "I love you so much. Please punish me and make me good and loving." His face was right over mine. I could feel his breath and smell his arousal. "That's right, you sweet thing. I know you love me and want to be good. You *are* lovely when you get like this." He licked the wetness off my face, all of it, his warm tongue going everywhere. Then we kissed and he made me kiss him while he squeezed my balls. I grunted into his mouth while he did this but kept kissing him sensually throughout it, the way he likes. This wasn't the punishment, just a warm-up. He wrapped my balls in bands and attached the wires. I heard him moving around in the room for a minute, then the electricity started. It started low, like it always does, then exploded into me and through my balls. I arched and tried to kick and pull my arms out, and I thrashed back and forth on the bed. I was crying out and begging him. Please Master Jack! Through it I heard him talking with someone else. I heard bits of conversation through my screams as I begged him, begged him to stop. "God I love it. I want to be sucked off." "Want to use my slave?" "I don't want a fucking slave. I want you." "You want me to suck you?" The was a silence. The only noise was me. "Like that, darling?" "Yes. Do it. Do it." Again the only noise was my yelling. ---------------- I was a pathetic slave back then. I didn't even know how to fuck right, to give the Master using my ass the most pleasure, to grasp with my anus and to push out against him so my rectum would close on his dick, to time my pushing to his thrusts, to anticipate what he wanted, to think only of him. And I had to learn discipline. I was strapped out across the wall, my scrotum distended so it looked like a malformed, pink water balloon, one that waved back and forth in front of me because I couldn't stop writhing. My testicles had been burning for hours, burning. He had inflated me with a liquid to teach me discipline. I was covered in sweat and gasping because it had gone on so long, but he always knew how to make it so I couldn't completely stop moving or moaning. He was sitting on a stool right in front of me and ordered me to hold still so he could thread a catheter up my penis. "I can't. Oh God, I can't." I was too disoriented with the pain and the exhaustion to remember to call him Master. He would punish me for that later. "Do it now, you useless pussy! Hold the pain in so I can do this to you. Now!" So I pushed my ass back against the wall as hard as I could, to keep myself still, shivering but not jerking. I watched as he grabbed my penis with one hand and pushed and twisted the catheter with the other, snaking it up into me. I felt it pass my bladder's sphincter. It was nothing in comparison to my balls. Dark yellow fluid flowed out the short tube, into a cup. "Drink this." It tasted strong but I didn't care because of the pain. I swallowed it right down. I was starting to writhe again, though. He held up an enormous syringe filled with a clear fluid. "Look at this. It will make you forget all about your stupid balls." He attached the syringe to the tube and began pushing the fluid up into me. There was a fleeting cold feeling in my groin and then it was burning too, like my balls, but more intense, and it traveled higher and higher until my whole belly, my back, my sides all were inflamed and I was cramping up. I screamed and began jerking and hurling myself about, but he just kept injecting me. When the first was empty he did a second. Then a third. He didn't stop until the last syringe was empty. "You won't have the energy to keep moving like that for long," he said. "Then I'll come back and we'll discuss your lack of discipline." He clipped off the tube so nothing would flow out, and left the room. ---------------- After punishment my balls usually hurt a long time before they get back to the normal aching, but they didn't hurt as much as usual this time. He didn't use the electricity as long as usual. He turned it off and removed the apparatus from my balls and left the room. I breathed heavily for some time, coming down from my pain high. I could start to sense things around me, again. The bedclothes were rumpled under me. I must have done that during my squirming. Master Jack sat down by my head and said to thank him for my punishment and to tell him how much I loved him. I did and he leaned over to kiss me. I knew I made him happy. We kissed lovingly, the way he had taught me. At one time I had thought I wouldn't be able to stand doing that, but now it was easy. It was one of the best things. He began tickling my balls and penis again. It wasn't going to work this time, not after punishment, but of course it did. He kissed me deeply while he played with me, and after a bit I breathed shallowly into his mouth because he had gotten my penis to grow again and I was hot. He did all the same things he had done before, nothing new, so there's nothing to tell. I had never known that just playing with your balls can excite you. I didn't know; really I didn't. I don't think I realized that hands moving up your shaft can give you touches of pleasure even before they reach your glans. Master Jack knows all of that. He got my penis big and full of pressure, wanting to come. Master Jack, your fingers moving up and up. Rub me like that again. Do it again. Don't stop. He climbed on top of me, crouching on me so our penises touched. He rubbed my penis up and down with his penis, while we kissed. He sucked on my nipples. We kissed some more while our bodies moved together. I could do this forever, I thought. Then he did something different. "Feel this," he told me. He sat up on his knees, pulled my dick straight up, and rubbed something on it. It was slippery and thick. Grease. Then he sat back onto my dick. He had to work it at his anus for a moment. Oh God. He was going to have me fuck him. I felt his anus let my dick in. He held himself still for a moment, then slid down a little, impaling himself. I gasped and held myself as still as I could. Then more. Then all the way down. It was better than the mouth. He rose until my dick head was almost out, then settled all the way down again. I was fucking his ass. No, he was fucking my dick. It was so good. I moaned for him. I knew what was going to happen. "Isn't that special, sweetheart?" "Oh yes, Master Jack. Oh. It feels so wonderful. Oh!" I said `oh' each time he moved. To lean down and kiss me, he had to pull almost completely off me, so we kissed while only the head of my dick was in his ass. He made tiny movements back and forth. "Master Jack. Master Jack." I was trying to talk through the kissing. "Master Jack, it's so wonderful, but I'll come. It's too much, Master Jack. I can't help it." "You'll have to control yourself, pussy. If you come in me I'll have to hurt you badly." "I can't help it Master Jack! Please! You fuck so well. Please don't make me!" But he kept making those little back-and-forth fucking movements. Then he would hold his body still while we kissed. My penis never backed down. I was at the edge. After a few minutes he sat up and slowly impaled himself again, giving me that feeling of his ass-flesh moving across my dick while he settled himself. "Please, Master Jack! Don't move. Please don't!" He rose again, until only my head was in him. He said, "You'll have to control yourself, little one," and he slid downward on me again. * * * * * * Since then he will take my penis out and play with it from time to time. He doesn't always make me come, but he always takes me to the edge, to where I'm trapped between needing to come and being afraid to. The best is when he takes me to bed with him, tied beside him with my penis free. He'll fuck me and play with me, then during the night I'll wake with him playing with me again and I'll already be hard. This will happen two of three times during the night. It seems the whole night is pleasure, and he keeps getting me to that edge. He is so wonderful. If he does bring me off the rush is so great that it leaves me gasping and dizzy, but then he does hurt me and hurt me. I can't learn to control myself, so I need to be disciplined. It isn't his fault I'm such a slut. I am, though. I am. I love his ass the most, being inside of him, feeling him sliding up and down my pole. If my punishment hasn't been too harsh, when he's finished with me and I've stopped crying I'll dream of him playing with me. I know he loves me. _________________________________________________________________ Send and receive Hotmail on your mobile device: http://mobile.msn.com -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+