439 The Auckland Mystery
Part 1 of 2
My company had sent me to Auckland, New Zealand, to sort out some problems in the remote office there, which meant two weeks of solid work. Still, by Thursday night, I had resolved the difficulties and had everything back up and running like clockwork, almost a week earlier than expected. My grateful supervisor told me to take the following days off and fly home on Sunday.
“Have yourself a long weekend, get out, and have some fun. We’ll cover the hotel until Sunday for you.”
That sounded like a good idea to me, but I knew no one in this city on a personal level. So, what would I do with myself for three full days? First, I got out of my business clothes, pulled on something casual, and headed for one of the gay bars I had noticed on Chapel Street. Seeing no one I wanted to talk to, I drank, but not a lot. I’m not a heavy drinker. Still, after the second beer, I could barely hold the bottle to my lips.
The room was spinning. I knew I needed to leave and get home. I shook my head, stood, stretched, and wobbled out. I found myself on the sidewalk, trying to remember, through the foggy haze in my head, how to get back to my hotel.
As I stood there, a face appeared in front of me. Rugged, square-jawed, manly, and attractive. “Are you okay?” asked a voice. I nodded my head, trying my best to stand up straight. Unsuccessfully.
“Can I give you a ride home?” repeated the voice. This time I tried to concentrate on the face and body. Tall, wide shoulders, strong legs. Handsome, my mind said through the fog.
“Yeah, that’d be great,” I replied and felt his arms go around me before my brain gave up completely. I sensed I was being helped into a truck, and then nothing until I awoke at some indeterminate time later.
When I finally came to, it was a slow re-awakening. Shaking off the confusion of sleep, I realized it was dark. Not just evening-type dark, but black, absolutely no light. I tried to roll over but couldn’t move. My arms were fastened somehow so I could lift them a little way off the floor, but no further. I tried to kick, only to find my legs similarly restrained. Panic hit me, and I screamed as loudly as I could manage -- “HELP!”
Suddenly, I felt hands on my head. Trying to look up, but still, there was absolutely no light. I tried to yell again and shake my head from side to side, but the strong hands held me still, then a rough movement as my head was lifted and dropped again. Someone was buckling some kind of belt around my jaw. No -- it was a gag made of leather. I could feel the texture, smell, the unmistakable aroma of the tanned hide. It was like a belt but with a large protruding knob on the inside which was forced into my mouth when one of the hands squeezed open my jaw, pushed it firmly in, then buckled it tightly. Try as I would, all I could do now was let out softly muffled `MMMPPHHSSSS!’
Suddenly, I heard the scratching of a match being drawn across a flint. A spark of light and candles were lit on either side of me. The light was faint but enough to reveal something of my situation. My eyes opened, took in all they could, and my mind tripped. The man lighting the candles was huge, with a muscular, rippling body, oiled and shining, dressed in a black leather harness with metal studs all over the straps, shining black chaps, gauntlets, and heavy boots. He wore a hood that completely obscured his face apart from the eyes, which peered through narrow slits, and a zippered opening for the mouth. Directly above me, a mirror was fixed to the ceiling, so I could see myself in the dimness. I was naked, my wrists and ankles bound by leather restraints connected by metal chains to rings on the floor. I was spread-eagled on a wide bench covered in what felt like leather, also black, the belt gag in my mouth easily seen.
The man who had lit the candles, presumably the one who had picked me up and brought me here, restrained me like this, took up a position between my legs, crossed his thick arms on his powerful chest, and simply stood, watching me. I tried to remember the man who helped me to his truck or car, or was it a taxi? What did he look like? Was this him? I tried to recall his face. Did he have facial hair? Was he blonde? What about his eyes? I could remember nothing. Probably it was him, but maybe not. I only remember wanting to get into my own safe, comfortable hotel bed. Now, I was still in panic mode and thrashed about as much as I could within the limits of the bindings, trying to get free and call out. He just stood and watched, ignoring me. I quickly realized I wasn’t going anywhere without some assistance, and my attempts to move subsided and then stopped. Still, he remained unmoving, his eyes directed at me, with no hint of emotion or concern at all. My struggling had now ceased entirely, and I lay there helpless, looking at him, then up at the mirror to my own reflection or around the darkened room as best I could, with no reaction, no motion on his part.
The minutes passed. He did not move. My attention was focused on my surroundings. I could see little of the room itself, the candlelight not being sufficient illumination. Wisps of smoke drifted in the air, and the smell of oil, mixed with leather and my sweat. My eyes were drawn to my unmoving captor, standing silently at the foot of the bench on which I lay between my legs. I began to really look at him. It occurred to me that I would have found him very attractive if not for the circumstances. His shoulders were broad, his skin tanned a golden brown and glistening, obviously oiled. His arms were strong, the musculature defined and obvious. His chest was pumped and chiseled, the nipples dark and erect. The cut 6-pack of his stomach led to a long uncut penis, dangling between his legs, all but flaccid. Even in that state, his cock was thick and meaty. Behind and below, his balls were large and heavy.
With horror, I realized I was getting turned on. I looked up into the mirror to see my cock lengthening and lifting against my leg. How could I be aroused when this stranger had me bound and gagged? I looked back at him, but the leather hood over his face told me nothing. It gave no hint of any expression on his face as his eyes remained fixed on me. I tried to will myself not to get hard, but the more I thought about my circumstances, the more aroused I became. I was totally helpless, tied to a bench and naked, with a huge, admittedly physically attractive man standing over me, with who knows what intentions? And my cock was getting harder and harder with each passing minute!
Without a sound, he moved. Uncrossing his arms, he walked into the shadows at one side of the room, where I could not see what he was doing, then returned. In his hands was a bowl of water, steam rising from it, a shaving brush, and a razor. Again, I tried to struggle, but it was in vain. My bounds were secure. Ignoring my struggles, he began to lather shaving cream across my chest. It occurred to me that if I couldn’t get away, moving around was the worst thing I could do, and I lay as still as I could, dreading what he was to do. Quickly and expertly, he removed the light fuzz of hair on my chest and did the same with my forearms. He then turned his attention to my legs, shaving them clean. As he began to lather my groin, I trembled with nerves. My erection had long wilted, and I prayed he would be careful if I could not stop him from this.
Carefully but quickly, he removed all my pubic hair, drawing the blade close around the base of my cock, and across my ball sack. He bent me over and spread my legs and made quick work of my ass hair, the little I had. It was not long before I was completely hairless below the neck. I was surprised at how cool I suddenly felt. I had not realized just how much the soft body hair acted as insulation against the air. Just as I was beginning to think he had finished, he put the shaving gear on the floor, and unfastened one leg chain, pulling it back so that my leg was forced to bend and lift back toward my stomach. He did the same with the other leg, and I suddenly knew that my asshole was exposed and vulnerable. He had easy access to my ass, and I could do nothing. Again, the lathering, this time much more carefully, as he shaved away the down from my cheeks and removed the wispy hairs in my ass crack and around my hole. Leaving me like this, he again went into the shadows, this time returning with an enema kit, a long hose, a pointed nozzle, and a large rubber bag.
The nozzle was inserted easily into my ass, and he squeezed the attached bag, filling me with warm water. I could feel my gut expanding as the liquid was forced into me until I thought I would burst. The pain was not piercing but dull and continuous as he continued to fill my body. Finally, when I felt I would surely suffer permanent damage, he reefed the nozzle from me and held a large bucket behind me. The warm liquid was expelled from me with force as my body let nature take its course, emptying my bowel. The relief was considerable and complete as I felt the last drops pushed out of me. Then repeated this twice more.
He moved so that I could not make out what he was doing. He returned with yet another large bucket of water. I looked at him. I was puzzled until he slowly began to tip water over my body and sponge it off with a cotton rag. Very soon, I was washed down, left clean but wet, bereft of any body hair, and still tied to the bench. He replaced my leg chains in their original position, then gathered up the bowls and buckets and left. I heard the door click behind my head and knew I was completely alone. He had not made a sound or said a word throughout the entire process. I could not compare his voice to the man who “recused” me from the bar. But I am not sure the man at the bar said anything anyway. My mind raced at what was happening. Part of me began to panic, yet another part was strangely turned on by the whole thing. He had certainly not hurt me. In fact, he had been cautious not to injure me and had taken real steps to clean me down. I guessed he intended to use me for his sexual pleasure- I was no innocent- but maybe that would also include some pleasure for me?
I lay there, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as time wore on. I had no idea the time of day or how long I had been here. There was no light outside the room, and I could not move more than a few inches in any direction.
After what seemed like an eternity, I heard a click and movement behind me. My captor came into view again, carrying an armful of what seemed to be pieces of dark material. He dropped his load on the floor beside me and reached down, retrieving something. That something was a wide, studded leather dog collar, which he buckled around my neck. I could feel the texture of the leather and smell the scent of the hide, and when I looked up into the mirror above me, I found it somehow exciting to be wearing this. Next, he tightly fitted wide soft leather armbands around my upper arms. They pushed the muscles of my biceps forward and emphasized the definition of my arms. Then he moved behind my head, and I watched in the mirror above as he manipulated something on the floor. I heard the sounds of metal chains and realized he was pulling on them through a pulley system. It was then that I found my arms being raised above my head. The rings I assumed to be fixed to the floor were part of a bar he was now raising. I was dragged up by my aching arms, lifted with the chains and the bar into a sitting position, then standing. He slid the bench out from under me, and I saw that the chains restraining my feet were attached to a similar contraption. The whole thing could be moved around by him to force me into any position, sitting, lying, kneeling, that he chose, like a puppet.
I found myself standing now, my arms stretched above me, but with my feet still on the floor and able to take my weight. Both arms and legs were spread wide so that I stood in a spread-eagled position. He lifted a large black object from the pile and fastened something around my waist. Chaps. Black leather chaps. He buckled the waistband in place, slipped one leg around me, zipping it up slowly and working it into position as he did, then repeated with the other leg. Due to these leg zippers, there was no need to untie my feet. The chaps were surprisingly well-fitted, and their feel against my skin, enveloping my legs in the polished leather, began to excite me again. Against my will, I felt my cock begin to lengthen, growing harder and longer as I stood there in leather chaps, leather armbands, leather dog collar, and leather a gag. Without my total lack of control, I would have thought this a living out of some hidden fantasy.
As the powerfully built man came to stand directly before me, I took a closer look at him. He was a hunk. A beautiful, faceless hunk with an oiled body, dressed in dark, shining leather with wide shoulders and a long thick tool. That only increased my arousal, and I could see quite clearly that my cock was now completely erect, jutting out from my groin and pointing at him. He reached for me then, gripping my dick hard, and I tried to moan through the gag at the touch of my throbbing prong. Instead, he pulled a leather strap around the base of my cock and balls, pulling it hard and tight. So tight I tried to yell, but all that came out was a muffled sound as he snapped the thing in place so that I was sure it was cutting off my circulation. Then another strap, shorter but wider than the first, was fixed around my balls, under the shaft of my cock. This he pulled hard as well, making it so tight. The pain was excruciating as he snapped it in place, then slowly, it resolved into a dull ache as my poor nuts felt like they were pulled down and away from my body.
Now that I was suspended and appropriately attired for him, he started playing with me. Still soundless, he circled me, pinching at my nipples, slapping my cock downward with his palm, landing an open palm hard on my ass cheeks before running his hands over my back or chest or down the length of my leather-clad thighs. Just as I would begin to think he would be gentle, he would slap or pinch me hard. He grabbed and pulled my hair, forcing my head back. His hand grabbed my testicles several times, pulling them down hard and sending stabs of pain through my body. Then immediately after, he would gently caress my buns, sliding a finger slowly and sensuously between my mounds to prod softly at my crack before withdrawing again. I did not know whether I would be pleased or hurt by each touch, and I began to flinch at his touch. At the same time, my cock remained engorged and rampant, throbbing and proud. I kept telling myself that it was because of the restricted blood flow from the cock ring, but deep down, this scene was turning me on, and I started to realize I was actually enjoying being used by him as a toy, with no say in what he did to me.
Then the pain. He pinched my nipples with his fingernails as if they were pliers. And held them in his vise grips. AND kissed me fully and deeply. Our tongues fought an erotic dual. Was he rewarding me for taking the pain or punishing me for enjoying it? Who the fucks cares!
Again, he circled me and played with me. My eyes were drawn to him, or rather to his cock. Where before it had swung flaccid between his legs, with each passing moment, with each grunt of pain or muffled moan of pleasure that I emitted, he grew and hardened until soon I could see the massive slab of meat that was his manhood poking out, proudly jutting in front of him. And what a cock it was! I swore it had to be 10 or 11 inches long, the head purple, swollen, and thick. Very, very thick. It occurred to me that I would be forced to take this monster, and my heart began to race. There was no way I could accept that thing without being torn apart. And yet, the thought of being fucked by that mighty lump of man flesh made my cock throb even harder. The glistening leather he wore flashed pinpricks of light at me from the candles, and his movements mesmerized me as I tried to concentrate on his trembling pole and the heaving, heavy nuts suspended below it.
He made his way around behind me, and I heard a jangling noise. With a click, he had attached a dog lead of steel chain links to the collar around my neck. He pulled at the chain, jerking my head around and my body following. I didn’t remember him loosening the pully, but he now had me on the floor. The chains were still attached to my wrist and ankles. As he tugged me along, he would slap my back with an open palm or gently run his fingers around the chaps I was wearing. He manipulated me onto the padded bench. One hard jerk at the chain made my head loll back, and I felt a nudging at my asshole. It was hot and firm, and I knew this was not his finger. The solid flesh pressed against my outer ring, and one of his hands came around before me, holding something up to my nostril. A bottle of amyl. I drew deeply at the opening he presented just below my nostril, taking as much as possible. As the effects hit my system, my entire body tingled, and my cock soared into an even harder state of rigidity. I felt him edge forward and willed myself to relax, knowing what was coming.
I pushed outward as if trying to relieve myself, and suddenly he was in. With a single movement, he pushed himself against me, breached the barrier of my sphincter, split me wide, and shoved the full length of his huge weapon deep into my bowel. Even with the amyl and the warning, the pain was searing as he ripped me asunder. A scream started in my throat, blocked by the leather gag in my mouth, but still enough to be heard clearly. I was certain my ass had been split as the red-hot poker he wielded speared into my soft, vulnerable gut. As his balls slapped against my butt and he came to rest with the entire length of his masculinity shoved into me, the bottle of amyl was held up to me again, and again I drew deeply, my nerves screaming at the pain within me.
He stopped there. If he had begun to pump, I am sure I would have passed out. I now realized he was a Master. A real pro and extremely experienced. He had done this many times in the past. Once again, the effects of the amyl poured through me, my heart racing, my blood pumping. The assaulted muscles of my anus gave up their struggle and began to relax with the aid of the drug. The warmth of the pounding blood overcame the intense pain, which lessened into a dull ache, and some of the tension ebbed from my back and shoulders. He must have been waiting for that signal because he pulled back quickly, removing all but the flared head of his dong from me, then shoved in again, harder and faster than before. The pain returned, but less this time. Repeating his motion, he began to fuck me in earnest, ripping that giant pole from my gut and then thrusting it back in again, the full 12 inches of him sliding back and forward through my sphincter, the thick all-filling mass of his pole filling me entirely and finding and rubbing against my prostate.
As if a switch had been thrown, the pain disappeared. A thudding ache remained, but it was almost forgotten. I marveled at the sensation. I was beginning to enjoy this! My body was being split apart by a monster penis, yet it aroused me. My cock, which had begun to shrink despite the cock ring, regained its hardness as this faceless, powerful man pumped himself in and out of me. I began to feel his rhythm and to move with him, the power of his humping sending thrills through me. Without warning, a hard slap landed on my right buttock. The shock and sharp sting made me clench my ass, which in turn caused more pain as it tried to close around the impossibly thick man meat inserted into me. Another slap and another clench. I swung between painful clenching and relaxed invasion, the whole time getting even more aroused as he fucked and slapped me at unpredictable intervals.
Then it was gone. My captor pushed me away, pulling his cock from me in one fast motion, the slurping withdrawal shooting yet another pleasure/pain spasm through my ring of muscle. I felt the vacuum as he withdrew, the incredible emptiness after being so full. I felt an ache in my groin and realized it was my cock, so hard for so long, aching for release, my protesting, heaving nuts unable to empty their load. Master walked around before me, his gigantic prong still jutting out from his muscular body, slicked and throbbing. Again, I stared at it, unable to believe it had invaded my body and left me still alive. He grabbed my nuts with one hand, pulling and twisting them. I tried to yell with the pain that pierced my groin, and his other hand attacked my nipples, pinching hard at my tit, twisting and pulling at it. More jolts of pain sent signals of intense feelings through me, and incredibly, my cock responded by twitching and straining yet again.
When he released the grip on my tit and my nuts, I barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief before my arms were swung back again. He manipulated the pulley system further to adjust my restrained wrists and ankles. I was on my back, on the padded weight bench, but he pulled at the chains independently to hoist my legs above me, forming a wide “V,” while he pulled my arms down to the floor on either side where I lay. This left my sore and ravaged ass exposed yet again. I could look back to see my tormentor’s hooded, leathered figure standing within the gleaming framework of my suspended legs, glowing softly in their dark leather casings from the flickering candlelight. My still hard and throbbing cock twitched again as I took in the sight of this powerful man in control of me, wreathed in black leather and silver steel, his hands reaching out and running slowly along the length of my thighs to end with another squeeze at my balls, as more pain wracked my groin from my tortured nuts.
Once more, Master disappeared into the shadows around the sides of the room and returned with a large black object. Holding it up in front of me, he ran his fingers down along the length. A solid and conical butt plug of shining black rubber had to be over a foot long from the pointed tip to the flared base. At its widest point, just before the flaring shrunk back to a central core, it looked almost three inches in diameter. My eyes widened in fright, and I began to sweat. I may have been able to take the massive throbbing cock swinging between this man’s legs, but there was no way that thing would go into me without injury. But that was exactly what he appeared to have in mind. Leaning down between my legs, he nudged the tip of the thing against my sphincter. Involuntarily I closed up against it, but he smeared some lube over the fake prong and pushed firmly. I forced myself to relax, knowing this would rip me, but I would try to avoid tearing any more than was necessary.
Master pushed the tip into my asshole so that about three inches invaded me. The conical shape widened so that my sphincter muscles were gradually forced to open. As one hand wielded the toy, the other played with my balls, pulling and twisting them so that the aching in my ass was a welcome relief from the sharp, stabbing pain when my testicles were gripped and tugged. He continued to play with me, pinching at my cock, slapping my rod so it swung across my abdomen, all the while working the butt plug in and out of my hole, spinning it around and pushing from side to side as well as in and out. With each inward thrust, he made further ground as my unwilling hole gave way to the insistent pressure of the flaring tube of that artificial dick. Ignoring the pain, I watched my reflection above my head, and my body reacted. I noticed the sensitivity of my nerve ends. This was like a whole new fucking, each inward thrust stretching me a little wider, the friction at my hole pleasurable as tingles erupted across my chest. The black tube inserted into me set off the black leather on my legs, and my still-hard cock ached more. How long could I take this treatment without release? As far as I could tell, he was now managing to push some 9 inches of the thing into me each time, but there was still a long way to go, and that unbelievably wide lip.
With each inward push, my eyes widened, and sweat poured from me, grunts escaping even through the gag as the pain increased from my stretched, protesting anus. Finally, he eased back, my resisting ass unable to take any more, and I thought he had given up on his mission. But no! He approached me from one side and stuck a thin metal tube into my nostril, like an inhaler. I could smell amyl. Not as strong as when sniffed directly from a bottle, but with it shoved into my nose, I had no choice but to take a weak dose of the drug with every breath. The effect was slower to hit me this time, but soon my heart was racing and my skin tingling, my erection bobbing around at my stomach. Leaving the inhaler in place, he returned to my ass, gripping the butt plug and re-starting his insistent pushing in and out with that huge toy.
The inward thrusts and slow withdrawals made me horny, my body trembling and my senses reeling. I could see the whole treatment being meted out to me in the mirror above my head and could feel the pain and the creeping pleasure of his attack on my ass as the aroma of the amyl filled my nose, combining with the scent of leather. Harder Master pushed, deeper each time. With any sharp pain, I breathed in quickly, but that natural reaction increased the amount of amyl I was taking, which in turn caused me to writhe within my restraints, aroused by the total control he exercised over me. He could obviously see my excitement, and the effects of the amyl also allowed him to edge the plug further and further inside me. My ass hole was stretched almost to tearing, but the pain was less of a piercing jolt and more and more a dull throb as incredibly my muscles relaxed and surrendered to allow entry of the huge toy. With a final shove, and a sharp, momentary pain in my rectum, the widest point stretched my ass and popped inside me. The relief was instantaneous, the jolt to my gut only uncomfortable as the plug pushed past, and my sphincter tried to close around it, sucking the full length into me so that only the wider base remained outside my body. I was filled with black rubber, and the sensation that descended was amazingly erotic. I could feel myself being held open by the core of the butt plug but felt so fulfilled, so complete, as it occupied my body cavern.
Once Master had filled me with the massive black dildo, he removed the inhaler from my nostril and bent to survey his work, jiggling the thing within me and slapping my rock-hard cock before giving my aching balls yet another tug. If my mouth had not been filled with the gag, I would have yelled out with the combined pain/pleasure of his abuse of my body. He did not give me time to rest, pulling hard on the leash attached to my neck as he walked around me, his semi-hard cock swinging and dripping pre-cum onto me as he leaned over. He played with my body again. Short sharp slaps on my exposed skin and slow, gentle caresses. He ran his fingers over the leather cuffs and dragged his slimed, leaking penis across my skin. He pinched my nipples and tugged at my cock. He twisted my balls and squeezed my legs through the leather chaps. He occasionally jangled the butt plug inside me, sending waves of pleasurable aching into me. I swung from pleasure to pain and back again so that I could not distinguish between the two. After about half an hour of this treatment, he worked the pulley system again, lifting me off the bench, then kicking it out from under me, and dropping me onto the floor where I found myself lying on a padded mat, like a gym mat, covered in black vinyl.
Adjusting me fully spread-eagled, and with the huge butt plug lodged within my hole, I looked up, helpless, as he came and stood over me, his legs astride so that my face was almost directly below his giant meat. Taking a long toke at a bottle of amyl, he gripped himself in one hand, the other alternating between his testicles and his nipples, and jacked off. For ten minutes or more, Master worked that massive tool in his hand, sweating and grunting as he sniffed at the amyl and played with himself. Finally, with an audible gasp, climax crashed onto him, and a river of scalding white cum poured from his cock. He directed it at me, shooting his essence all over my face, chest, torso, and groin. The splattering juice cascaded down onto me, its sticky ooze coating my flesh as my captor grunted and shook above me. The sight was so erotic, so horny, that I wanted desperately to join him in release, to shoot my load into the air, but I could not touch myself, and in the absence of any physical stimulus, I could only watch him and ache.
He shuddered to a stop, shaking the last droplets onto me. Stepping over my prone body, he knelt and wiped his still-hard weapon on the leather chaps I wore. Lifting my legs again into the air, he gripped the base of the butt plug where it protruded from my ravaged ass, twisting it and making me jolt with pain again. Somehow, I sensed that his eyes, glowering through the slits in the hood, were grinning at me. For the first time, I heard a sound from him other than gasped breaths or grunting release. I swore he chuckled, an evil-sounding, low laugh. With one hand pressed down on my engorged throbbing cock and aching balls, he wrapped his other hand around the base of the property, braced himself, and pulled hard. Without the relaxant of the amyl or any preparation, my entire body screamed. My sphincter felt as if it was ripped wide, and my gut was being torn out of me. The intense pain crashed into my brain, and I lost consciousness.
The Auckland Mystery
Part 2 of 2
When I came to, it was dark, but I felt that I was bound in a wood frame contraption. I had no idea how long I had been out, but he was not there. I tried to move, only to find my wrists and ankles were awkwardly restrained, as well as my neck. I also became acutely aware of the continuous aching in my balls and prick. The tight leather cock ring and restrainer on my balls were still in place, and the need for release began to make itself known again. I tried to move but stopped, terrified I would be heard. I licked my lips with thirst after the earlier treatment. I LICKED MY LIPS!!! The gag had been removed from my mouth. But I did not yell out. Who could hear me? I didn’t even know where I was, and the only one likely to hear would be the one who had brought me here in the first place. So dark.
I could feel the stickiness of the dried cum from his climax all over my body and the ache in my rear, although I was surprised to find that my ass did not hurt as much as I expected. Perhaps he had not done as much damage to me as I had thought when he ripped the butt plug from me. I began speculating what would be next and wondered if I would ever be released from here. I did not have to wait long for the answer to the first question.
I heard the click, and the light came on brightly. There he was at the doorway. His body was just as before, with harness, chaps, and hood still in place.
I was shocked to see this medieval wood structure I was secured to. Somehow, I knew I was placed in this for my long or brief sleep. Oddly, my chaps, as well as the dido, had been removed. This contraption was my “bed.” He nodded his hooded head as if to say, “Good morning.” Or maybe it was “Good morning, ready to continue?”
Master lit a candle and shut the main light off. I guess he just wanted me to see my surroundings. Now, I was removed from the frame. As soon as my leather chaps were replaced, I was brought to the same bench I was tied to before and forced to kneel on it, then lie forward over my knees so my knees were at my rib cage. I guess I was bent like a “Z.” But my knees were spread wide, and my face was all the way down to the bench padding. I was trim and limber, so this position was not uncomfortable. Now my ass was lifted and exposed. My cock and balls hung, displayed freely. Kneeling in front of me, he pulled a tight-fitting leather hood over my head and snapped it tight around my neck. There were holes over my nostrils so I could breathe and tiny slits corresponding to my eyes, although seeing was now much more difficult. But the rest of the hood was solid. No earholes, so sound became a muffled memory. Not that there had been much sound until now, anyway. And no opening at my mouth whatsoever. Again, I was silenced, unable to do more than make a shrouded murmur through the leather hood.
I felt something pressing at my rear. Dreading a re-insertion of the butt plug, I tensed up, but in vain. My Master pushed at my opening, overcoming the resistance, but it was not the gigantic dildo of earlier. A small ball about half an inch in diameter popped into my rectum. It went in so easily. In fact, quite a pleasant experience as my cock began to throb again. I felt something else, a pulling, and realized that the ball was attached to a string of some kind. Then, another nudge and another ball was inserted into me. This, too, was enjoyable as the two rolled within my cavern. It seemed the balls were weighted like there was a small lead weight inside each ball rolling around, causing a weird but pleasant sensation when they rolled around inside my large intestine. Then, more followed as he slowly and patiently added to the collection within my bowels. I lost count but guessed there must have been 9 or 10 inside me when he finally stopped.
Soon I felt his hand on my hips, and he jerked them back and forth sharply, causing the balls to bump around as if he were playing billiards. Once I got used to it, my dick started to expand. I felt stuffed by these balls, jiggling and bouncing against each other. Then, I felt a tugging sensation. The string threading through all these balls, placing them maybe an inch apart, was sticking out of my ass. He was jerking on it. Not fully, just jerked and released repeatedly. He was toying with my gut. Not only was he controlling my limbs and all external parts of me, but now he was also playing with my interior, my bowels.
Then a tug at the leash on my neck, forcing my head awkwardly back. He tied the extending string attached to the balls in my ass, apparently a long string, to my leather collar. I tried lowering my head back down when there was an uncomfortable tug on the balls in my ass. Any movement of my upper body, especially my head, made the balls jump and bounce around inside me. If it had not been for the discomfort of being so filled, I would have happily stayed like this. The sensation was pleasuring my ass and my gut considerably.
But that was not to be the end of anything. My captor resumed his favored pastime of playing with my body. My Master pulled at my tortured testicles and caressed my buns along the ridges of the chaps. My body twisted and jerked in response, and the ass balls then jerked inside me. Master squeezed hard on my rampant erection and then released it quickly to massage the skin on my back. I tried to keep still, allowing him to do whatever he wanted, but I could not help twitching and jerking. Feathery touches with his fingers would be followed by unexpected slaps as his palms hit my flesh. I ached, I groaned, I enjoyed it, and I hated it, but I could not get enough of this treatment, and all the while, I silently begged him to let me cum. Then he stood before my face. With my head held back by the ass string, my mouth was open. He brought his stiff, bobbing dick to my mouth, keeping it about an inch away. Instantly I thrust my head forward to take his cock and immediately felt the pain in my ass as the string jerked on the balls sharply. That sensation was painful. If I stayed still, it would be pleasant. So I tried to keep my head still, and only extend my tongue. What the fuck must I have looked like?! A big sex-starved, hungry dog wanting his Master’s huge bone? He gave out a big belly laugh.
After some time, Master ceased his teasing game, and then I felt another nudge at my hole. Surely there could not be any more balls! But their string was still attached to the collar at my neck. The pressure increased, the insistent pushing opening my already ravaged hole even further. It was his cock!
With the balls firmly lodged inside me, he slowly but firmly entered me, his huge thick weapon forcing my sphincter apart as he invaded me. His rod pushed through the balls as his length sank into me, making them roll and press against my innards. I was literally stuffed, my body so full it felt like I must explode as he shoved his mighty prong into the already full cavity. Exploring my ass and gut, he nudged aside the balls. Stretched, I could not believe the sensations that began to build. The motion of the spheres within my gut and the insistent thrust of his huge prong sent tingles of pleasure through me. My Master began to slowly fuck me, shoving into me and pulling back to shove again. It’s not that my gut was being so expanded by his dick and the balls. It was that his dick pushed the balls further up my large intestine. The motion stimulated me deeper, and fuller. His long thick pole pushed its way through the balls. I wondered how erotic this felt for him, pushing his dick through the mess of slippery, rubbing balls as he fucked me, rubbing and pressing against my prostate. The feeling was indescribable as he rutted into my ass. His strong hands were on my hips as he shoved himself into me, and his thrusts grew faster and harder, but this time there was an intense pleasure for me as well. I had to keep my head up and back, but my body did spasm and bucked against him as much as I could, matching his fucking and gripping at him as I did, taking from him what I could as he used me, shuddering and ramming, plowing that monster cock of his harder into the furrow of my gut.
Faster and faster, Master fucked at me, the urgency in his body palpable as he took me and owned me. I rocked back and forth with him and against him, shaking with the growing need for passion as he built to the point of explosion. Suddenly, he gripped me tightly and slammed his entire body against me, burying his throbbing, pulsing cock so deep within that I was sure he would injure me. Without allowing the slightest withdrawal, he began to twitch and bounce against me, and as he did, his hand went to my swollen throbbing cock, angry with need and built-up pressure. His fist closed around my rod, and as he began to pump hard on my dick, I felt the explosion rock within me. His huge balls emptied their contents deep inside my hot wet hole spasming jolts shot his juice deep within me. Joined in that crashing wave that engulfed me, my balls finally ejected their load and spouted a geyser of cum. I ached. I shuddered and twitched as my orgasm rocked me to the core. Through it all, I felt his shuddering climax fill me, the flood so great it could not be contained as rivulets of manjuice escaped my ravaged gaping asshole and ran down my legs.
Spent at last, he pulled himself from me and gave my butt a resounding slap as he exited. The balls remained lodged within my cavity, and he tugged at the string, making my body ache, but he left them in place. Walking around me with my head still back and my mouth wide open. My Master wiped the slime of his ejaculate from his cock onto my protruding tongue. It wasn’t easy to lick his fingers, but I did my best. Master walked around me, pinching my skin, adding slaps, and caresses to the treatment he handed me. I was unsure whether I was being rewarded or punished, but I lay there, vulnerable and controlled, on the outside and the inside. I realized that I did not want to object. This attention was what I craved, what I needed, and what I enjoyed. He moved back to stand behind me again, and I felt him tugging at the string, the balls jiggling again inside my sloppy, ravaged hole. My Master pulled slowly but firmly, and the rubber spheres popped from me in a series of expulsions, easily exiting my stretched and tender boyish ass, making my body tremble and jerk. Well, maybe not so boyish now. As the last of them was pulled from me, he placed them over my back, the residue of his ejaculate and the juices from my body dripping onto my skin.
Finally, my Master stopped, leaving me alone again. I was exhausted, spent completely, covered in the remnants of his cum and sweat. I was exhausted. Then the pulleys moved. I had forgotten that I was still attached to the pulley by wrists and ankles. With another movement of the pulleys, I was hauled around to sit upright on the bench, my arms by my side. He then detached the chains from my wrist cuffs but then attached a short chain to them so that I was still restrained at the ankles, but my arms could move around, to the wrist chain restriction. Then one final chain, from my collar to an eyebolt in the floor, so I couldn’t stand. Master placed a large bowl of water, and a plate with what looked like peanut-buttered bread on, it close by me and left the room, still without a word.
Looking at the food, I realized I’d had nothing to eat or drink for many hours. Chained as I was, I would be forced to eat and drink like a dog, lapping at it without using my hands, but a fierce hunger and thirst had come on me. I eagerly chewed and swallowed everything on the plate. It was fresh but had an unusual taste I could not place. Similarly, I sank my face into the bowl of water and drank fully. Again, there was a taste to it I could not identify, but I was so thirsty I didn’t care. At last, able to now lie down on the black vinyl mat, I closed my eyes and wondered at my fate. A feeling of extreme tiredness, a hazy lost sensation, came over me, and I drifted into a deep sleep.
When I woke, it was cool and still dark. Noises were all around me. I sat up quickly, and a pounding headache announced its presence. I looked around and found I was lying in a small alcove off the sidewalk, like a homeless person. Standing up and fighting against nausea, my head throbbing, I walked a few steps out onto the sidewalk. My clothes were disheveled and dirty, but when I felt for my wallet, it was still in my pocket. I checked it, and all my money, cards, and identification were still in place. I was relieved. I scratched my head and thought about what to do now. I stopped a passerby.
“What time is it, please?” I asked, knowing I must look derelict.
“Almost 4:30 in the morning.” He said, looking suspiciously at me. I thanked him and started to wonder. I had been drinking a lot, then chained in a room, fucked and used by a strong man in incredible leather gear ... wasn’t I? Then, in my daze, the stranger offered me his hand ... Was it all a dream. Did I simply pass out from the booze to wake up here on the street?
“Is there a taxi stand near here?” He pointed to one across the street.
I grabbed the first cab and made it back to the hotel. A disapproving stare from the night desk clerk, but I was safely back in my room, still wondering, still groggy. I needed to clean myself up. Stumbling into the bathroom, I stripped off my clothes, looked in the mirror, and knew the truth. I was completely hairless from the neck down. I remembered being shaved, then used, invaded, and plugged. Those fucking ass balls! It was all true! The tenderness of my ass testified to the accuracy of my recollection. As I thought over what had happened to me, I began to get aroused. Despite the fear and humiliation, it had been the most intense and stimulating time I had ever known.
After I had showered and cleaned up, I knew what I wanted -- I wanted him. I wanted to be under his control again, to be his toy, his plaything. I wanted MY MASTER! But how? I could not even remember the bar I had been in front of when he, or someone else, picked me up. I could describe his cock and balls, his chest and shoulders and legs in vivid detail, but I had absolutely no idea of his face, his voice, or anything. I needed him, needed his abuse, his control, but they were lost. Impossible to find. I began to pack to get ready for the flight home.
All that morning, I thought of my dear Master and my experience. On the way to the airport, I ached with need and despaired at having to leave. In the terminal, I looked over the notice boards, checked my flight time, sat, drank coffee, and thought. The final call for my flight was announced. I reluctantly rose to my feet, looked around at all the ordinary people going about their business -- and made a decision. I turned and walked out again, hailing a taxi back to the city. No matter what I did, I had to find him again and beg my Master to take me back. He was my precious Master; somehow, I’d find him again.
I returned to that bar, drinking and waiting until the bar closed. The next night, I did the same thing, nothing. And the following night, and on and on, nothing. Sometimes you have to say goodbye, even to good hopes and dreams. We can’t control those things. I made my airline reservation for the day after tomorrow. I did go back to that bar one last time to get closure. I wanted one drink to toast my almost new life goodbye.
I woke up naked in a different awful wood-framed structure, I assumed because I was blindfolded. There was an aching fullness in my ass, and my nipples were screaming in pain, but I could not scream. I was gagged, gagged, and blindfolded. My arms and legs were spread out tightly so I could not move a fucking inch. Then I felt my stuck-out bare ass being whipped, not playfully, but intensely and it caused my entire body to shake and tremble. I just wanted to have my hands free so I could cover my ass and stop the awful stinging.
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! What the fucking hell? I can’t see. I can’t move. I can’t fucking speak or call for help! OWE! Fuck! That fucking son of a bitch! The whip hurts! SWISH-SLAP, SWISH-SLAP, SWISH-SLAP. It stings and burns so bad. And he won’t fucking stop! I can’t stop him! He’s going to whip me as long as it pleases him. Shit, I can’t defend myself, protect myself! I am totally at his mercy. I am so fucking helpless! Christ!
Fuckng Christ, I… I… Oh, God, I… I… love it. I have no power, no freedom, no control. “Oh, God! Oh, my fucking God! Thank you, God! I have been found! He found me. He finds me worthy of being owned and used and abused. I have been rescued from my independence, my freedom. Saved. I am so fucking happy.”
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