Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2007 13:20:34 -0700
From: David Andrew <daprivate12@hotmail.com>
Subject: Bondage, balls, pain and pleasure 5

	After my first meeting with Paul I knew what to expect when he said it was
going to be a long, hard session. But something was driving me on, and the
letters I'd written, and those that I'd received from Paul had whetted my
appetite for more torture. This time Paul didn't go to quite the same
lengths to bandage my head, although he did use wax in my ears, a blindfold
and he taped my mouth shut too. I did try to relax, not with any great
success. First he secured me face down across the bed, my arms stretched out
and tied to the far side, my legs spread wide and attached to the legs at
the top and bottom. He gave me the same sensuous treatment with the cat
before he started, but when the whipping began it was a lot harder than the
first time. It really was hard to take, my cock and balls took a lot of
punishment, but in a strange way it was very stimulating. When I felt the
cold slippery dildo slip between the cheeks of my ass it eased the stinging
in my hole, but I knew that the pain was going to be bad. As he worked the
thing further in I realized that it wasn't the same monster that he'd used
before, this one was slimmer. I suppose this helped me to relax and he soon
got it buried in my body right up to the plastic balls. A minute or two
later it slipped out. I didn't push it out because it felt quite good, it
just sort of slipped out. He lodged it in my butt again, this time it felt
warm and slippery. It turned me on a bit harder knowing that this thing had
gone right up into my body. He taped it with adhesive tape, that held it for
the rest of the session. He released my limbs and re-secured me
spread-eagled on the bed. He used the clothes pegs again, this too was worse
than the first time because he used many more than before. As he was putting
them on I was counting so I knew how many had to come off! Again he asked if
I wanted to try piercing. I shook my head vigorously. He seemed to accept it
without pushing me further. At the end of the session I felt a cold wetness
at the mouth of my cock. I wasn't sure of what was coming, but it didn't
feel uncomfortable. I could feel Paul's fingers on my cock, that felt good.
He seemed to be opening my piss slit with something. I did feel a strange
sensation in my cock, but I couldn't decide what was happening, certainly
there was no pain. It was the strangest sensation, almost as though he was
slipping something into my urethra with a jerking sort of movement, each
jerk sending it further into my penis. It felt good, sort of like being
jerked off except that there was no sensation on the skin, it was all coming
from the inside. Suddenly I felt my bladder start to empty, you know the
feeling you get when you've had to wait a long time for a piss. But I wasn't
pissing, it was an uncontrolled flow, another strange sensation. I really
wasn't too happy when I realized that he'd put a catheter down my penis. If
he'd asked I would have said no, then I remembered what he's said about the
top being in charge so I didn't try to indicate that I was unhappy about it.
With the catheter still in place he started to jerk me off. When I came it
was fantastic. The juice couldn't spurt out like it does normally, it oozed
out, but the flow seemed to last for minutes rather than seconds. I was
really glad that he'd done it without asking, if I'd had my way I would have
missed an incredible sensation.
	For the next two or three months we were at the opposite sides of the
world; when he was home I was some place else, when I was in NYC he was
travelling. We wrote regularly during this time. I'll just give you an idea
of how this correspondence went  -

	"You're pretty good at taking ball torture, but if you want to be a really
good bottom you'll have to take more than that, like a full size dildo...and
piercing."

I suppose I was flattered when he said that I took the ball torture well.
And yes, I did want to be a real bottom, but... So I replied, "Sorry, but I
don't want to get into piercing, besides we agreed that there'd be no
exchange of body fluids," I reminded him. Of course there wouldn't have been
any been exchange, it was the best reason I could think of short of saying I
was too scared to let him do it..

	"A bottom should submit totally. There are very few veins in the scrotum,
so it's most unusual to see any blood at all. There's absolutely no risk of
infection because I always use hypodermics straight out of a sealed pack.
What it comes down to is do you trust me? If you do you'll let me do it."

Remember that these letters came many weeks after our first meeting, and I
didn't get the first until four or five weeks after the second meeting, so
the thought of a needle wasn't so shocking by this time. In fact I had even
started wondering what it would be like.

	"Of course I trust you," I replied. "Would I let you tie me up if I didn't?
Remember, I could be called in for a medical at any time, straight off my
return flight even. What would the company doctor say if my scrotum was
bruised and marked?" There was always a bruise when they took blood at a
medical, not that they took it from my scrotum.

	"There will be no bruise, no mark at all. You say you trust me and you want
to be a good bottom. Well a good bottom submits. He submits and takes the
punishment without question, and piercing is the ultimate submission to his
Master's will." I didn't tell Paul that I was by this time fascinated by the
thought. Maybe he sensed something from my replies because he never dropped
the subject.

"There will only be a slight prick, no worse than the first time," he
reassured me. "Definitely no lasting pain," his next letter assured me.
"Nothing like the pain that guys go through inserting metal rings and things
into their scrotums and cocks, and plenty of guys do that."

Well that was true, I'd seen hundreds of them in the baths. By now I was no
longer shocked by the thought of needles, they seemed so much smaller than
those metal bars and rings that guys wore. In fact I fantasized about it,
wondered what it would be like to hold my balls up for Paul to prick a
needle into the skin. Just thinking about it brought on a hell of an
erection. Still I wasn't ready to admit that to Paul. However, he wasn't
easily put off, I suppose he was used to bottoms being reluctant at first. I
can't remember what my next excuse was, but he still persisted.

	"You should try it at least once, otherwise you'll never know what it is
like. Let me use just one needle," he suggested. "If you're still unhappy
I'll never ask again. If it's not too bad then I'll use a few more."

That of course could be read two ways: either he wouldn't ask again, or that
we wouldn't meet again. One needle, that didn't sound too bad, especially if
he'd stop if I signaled that I really didn't want any more.

	"If I do take one, and if it's not too bad, how many more?" I wanted to
know. I had a very hard erection when I wrote that letter, I was pretty much
agreeing  to let him use at least one needle. Pre-cum flowed out of my cock
in a stream and I jerked off as soon as I'd finished writing. Still Paul
wasn't satisfied.

"If  it's not too bad then how about eight or ten?"

I felt that I'd started down a slippery slope. Was it time to dig my heels
in, or should I slide a bit further? I'd psyched myself up to submitting to
one needle, there was no way that I would agree to eight or ten, but by this
time I did want to experience being pierced, just once.

	"Not eight or ten," I wrote, "Maybe four." I was sure I wouldn't get past
the first one, but now I'd agreed to four. Or was it a total of five? I also
told him my schedule for the coming month. I still remember the feeling,
slightly sick, as the letter slipped from my fingers into the mail box. I
couldn't get it back: there was no way I could back out. His reply was
waiting for me in the hotel the next week.

"Four will be fine. You won't regret it," he assured me. And in the same
letter he told me that he'd rearranged his schedule to be in town the very
next day. I can tell you I spent another restless night!

I have a vast collection of tools at home and during this time when I was
writing to Paul I had made a little device that I called Nutcracker Sweet.
It was like a small hammer, the head was made form one inch square Plexiglas
bar, about three inches long. One face was just cut square, the other end of
the head I cut away the Plexiglas at an angle on each side so as to reduce
the face to about a quarter inch square. I polished the whole thing until it
looked like glass. The shaft was quarter inch fiberglass rod, nice and
flexible! I tried it out on my balls, both bound tight and hanging loose.
The big end made the skin of my scrotum sting, not the effect I was trying
to achieve, so I covered it with an eighth inch thick piece of neoprene.
That produced a real good thump and delicious pain; the small end was just
polished so it delivered a very concentrated hit on one small part of the
testicle, just wonderful! I had to make two or three before I got the weight
and length of shaft just right to produce the best results. I had sent Paul
the first "production" model and asked that he use it on my balls next time
we met. He was delighted with the Nutcracker and promised to use it to good
effect.
	It had taken quite a while, but eventually we were both in NYC and free to
play on the same day. Paul didn't say what time he'd arrive, but remembering
how early he had arrived in the hotel the first time I asked for a wake-up
call at seven. When the phone rang I got up and had a very thorough shower,
then went down to the coffee shop. I ordered my usual breakfast, fruit,
cereal, toast and coffee. Waiting for it to be served I had time to think.
By the time it came I wasn't hungry. I managed the fruit, toyed with the
cereal, didn't touch the toast, but managed two cups of coffee. Now it was
time to go back to the room to think, and wait, and think some more.
	'I'm in at the deep end now... Can't back out...Right now Paul's heading
for the hotel...He's going to pierce the skin of my scrotum...with a needle!
How did I get in to this, it's madness...but I've got to let him do it. I've
only agreed to one...don't have to take more. One shouldn't be too
bad...I'll try to take it well...hold them up for him...' I was trying to
psyche myself up, in fact I was making myself more worried. It was now after
eight, still no call from the lobby. By nine I thought I was going to throw
up what little breakfast I'd managed to swallow.
	'Where the fuck is he?' I wondered. By this time I was trembling all over,
if I could have got in touch with Paul I'd have called it off, said I was
sick, which wouldn't have been totally untrue. Then the phone rang. I hope I
managed to keep the terror out of my voice as I gave him instructions to get
to my room. I remember looking in the mirror and thinking, 'Well it's too
late now, you've really done it. How in the name of fuck did you agree to
get into this?' Then came the tap at the door. Paul was really cheerful when
he came into my room, there was an enthusiastic air about him.
	"So...When do you want me do it, the piercing, at the beginning or the
end?" he asked as the door shut. My mouth went dry. It had to be the most
bizarre question I'd ever been asked. I still couldn't believe that this was
happening. Of course if I'd had the guts I'd have said, "Do it now!" But I
didn't.
"Oh...um...at the end...Yes, at the end," I heard myself stammer. Anything
to put it off. But it was as though somebody else was speaking for me, I
mean no man can say when he'd like needles in his scrotum, it just couldn't
be real.
	Paul started with the whipping again. This time he had me on an easy chair
in the lounge area of the suite. My legs were spread out over the arms, my
head hanging down over the back. This way my ass was right on top of the
padded back of the chair and my cock and balls were very much exposed to be
raked by the cat. The whipping got me really hot so, for a while, I forgot
about what was to come. He then tied me down on the bed, usual way, and put
on a blindfold. I was surprised that he didn't tape my mouth, or use wax to
block my ears. When he started on my balls, like the first time, hitting
them very gently, gradually making it harder and harder, and he was using
the Nutcracker. This time the pain was worse, or should I say better? He
started with the softened, blunt end, but even so my balls ached
beautifully, the sort of pain that flows out of the balls and up into the
guts. For me that is the very best torture, the more I get the better I like
it. I knew what was coming on the second round, the pointed end. The pain
really was fantastic, instead of just hitting the same part of the testicle
he was able to pinpoint the exact spot. The spot he went for was right at
the back of the testicle, to my mind that is THE most sensitive bit. In just
seconds, even while the tapping was very light, I was in real pain, but it
helped to know that this was what I'd asked for when I sent him the
Nutcracker. I knew that if I made any effort to avoid the beating Paul would
see what I was doing, he'd persist with it just to watch me suffer. So I
tried to lie still, even held my balls up as much as I could so that he
could get at them. I think it worked, or maybe I was more turned on because
I'd asked for it.
	Another device that he used on me for the first time was what I'd call a
"Nut Cracker," I don't know what the real name is, but it was an adaptation
of the ancient thumb-screw. It was a cup, maybe two inches across, very
thick walled. Set in the side was a half an inch diameter screw, rounded
end, not a sharp point. Paul pulled and pushed at my balls to get the left
one positioned in the cup. He handled it so casually pushing it in with his
thumb as his fingers grasped the other one to keep it clear. I don't know
why, but that sort of handling always gets me really hard. Once he had the
left one inside the cup he tightened the screw a bit to trap it. Gradually
he continued to tighten the screw: it squeezed down inexorably on my
testicle. There was no way of relieving the pain, it just grew more intense
with each turn of the screw and I just had to take it. After the beating I'd
just taken this was really severe ball torture. There was no way of escaping
the pain, struggling or objecting would have encouraged Paul to crush the
testicle even harder. I just had to let it happen. As soon as I did this I
was able to absorb the pain as it poured out of my testicle and flooded the
whole of my body. I was so hot I could have come as he crushed the first
one. Paul must have seen the pre-cum flowing.
	"Don't even think of coming," he said sternly. "Even if you do you're going
to take a lot more."
Just when I thought I'd scream he released the pressure. Just as it had been
with the pegs the pain increased as the blood flowed back into the crushed
nut. Then I felt him pushing my other one into the cup. I would say that
this way of crushing testicles is even better than the usual ball-press
which crushes both at the same time. I suppose it's because I knew that when
he'd got through with the first one he'd do the same to the other one. When
he'd done the right ball he forced my left one in again, but this time he'd
turned the cup so that the screw pressed down on the back of the testicle.
This was much worse than the first time. I suppose that was partly due to
the fact that it had already been crushed. It took all of my concentration
to let my balls hang loose as the pain built up; and again I knew that the
right one would be tortured next. It was hot, hot, hot!
	Each time I was left in peace between the bursts of pain I had a chance to
think. I wondered if Paul was preparing the needles. I wondered how he'd
tell me that the time had come for piercing. Would he say, 'It's time, hold
still.' Or maybe he'd ask if I was ready. No, he didn't have to ask, I'd
already agreed that he could do it 'later.' Would he say anything: or would
I just feel the sting as the needle went in? I felt Paul's fingers on my
balls, he was putting a strap around the neck of my sac trapping the balls.
Could this be it I wondered? When I felt the cold sensation of my scrotum
being cleaned with alcohol I knew. There was another short pause, my heart
was racing, I tried to control my breathing. Paul's fingers took a hold of
my balls again, then almost immediately I felt the sting on the left side of
my scrotum. It was sharp, but very brief, followed by a slight pressure on
the side of my testicle, then nothing.
	'Not too terrible,' I thought, 'Only three more...I can handle it.'
	"You OK?" he asked. I nodded. "Didn't I tell you it wouldn't be bad? You
want more?"
	I couldn't say yes, couldn't say anything, I just nodded again. Paul was
handling the right ball now. Again the brief, sharp sting followed by
pressure. There was a long pause.
	'Why doesn't he do it...get it over?'
	After what seemed like an age his fingers were back on my balls. The next
stab was on the top, followed by pressure down on the testicle. When I felt
the last sting in the same spot on the right one I knew I'd survived.
	'Well at least that's over. I've taken it, don't need to go through that
again!'
	"Do you want to look?" Paul asked.
	"Look? Oh no...No I don't."
	"Come on...it looks so good," he said pulling off my blindfold. "And not a
drop of blood!"
	I didn't want to look, but once the blindfold was off I couldn't help
lifting my head up off the bed. What I saw shocked me more than I can tell
you. There were four green plastic tops of the hypodermic needles sticking
out from my scrotum, it was obvious that the needles were buried in my
testicles!
	"Jesus Christ!" I exclaimed, "They're in my balls!"
	"Yes, of course." Paul was surprised that I was surprised.
	"But I didn't think you'd stick the needles all the way in."
	"Ball piercing means just that. You must have known. It doesn't do any
harm, they're just soft tissue. There are hardly any veins, that's why
there's no blood."
	"But if I get an infection...I told you I can be called in for a medical
check any time, maybe after I get back off this trip. There'll be bruising,
there always is. And my wife, how will I explain that if she sees it?" I
knew there'd be bruising, there always was.
	"There won't be a mark, no mark at all. I promise." I still wasn't
convinced, it just couldn't be true. Needles stuck into my balls, right up
to the hilt, this wasn't what I thought I'd agreed to. "Now, it's time to
come, do you want to come with the needles in? Or do you want me to take
them out first?" I'd heard some surprising questions, but this had to be way
up there with the most bizarre.
	"Oh no, take them out first...Please Sir," I added hastily. I just couldn't
imagine what it would be like to have my balls pumping juice when they were
stuck full of needles.
	Taking them out took only seconds and I felt nothing. Paul jerked me off
with one hand while he paddled my balls with the other. The rush of semen
was quite spectacular.
	As Paul finished packing his things into his case he said casually, "So
we'll have no more problems with piercing. I'll use a lot more next time."
It was a statement not a question. I was taken back, especially by 'more
next time.'
	"Oh...I thought that you only wanted to do that once...You said in your
letter..." Even if it hadn't been as bad as I feared I didn't really want to
be pierced again.
	"Once?" He was surprised. "No I'll do it again and again. Lots more needles
next time. And one day I'll pierce you cock and tits too." This was too much
for me to take in. "Well we can talk about it some time. I'll write...let
you know..." Paul left pretty much convinced that although I wouldn't admit
it I did want it again.
	Over the next few months we wrote to each other. Paul reminded me that he'd
told me on the first day that he would control the scenes, yet every time he
tried something new I objected. This was true, but I still didn't have the
guts to let him do whatever he wanted. I especially didn't want that big
dildo. Many years ago, long before I knew I was bi-sexual I'd split my
sphincter, not by sticking anything in, not even because I was constipated.
In fact it was a very bad dose of diarrhea, it came on with such force that
something split. Luckily I was at home when it happened and was carted off
to hospital. There the doctor explained what had happened stitched me up
under a general anaesthetic. I've told you that I have been fucked three
times, and one of those guys had a monster cock, but the dildo that Paul
wanted to use was even fatter. I was sure that I'd be split open if he tried
to force it in. Now I was in a bind: Paul wanted a free hand to pierce my
balls, my cock, my tits and he wanted to use the dildo. All four were
difficult to accept. If I said no to all of them I was sure he wouldn't
bother to work on me again. I played for time. First I explained about the
sphincter problem. Then I said I needed more time to get used to the idea of
having my cock and tits pierced. Finally, to let him see that I really
wanted our strange relationship to continue, I told him that I would submit
my balls to him and accept his limits. I hadn't meant to add anything more,
but once I'd written that sentence it was as though something inside me, a
reserve or reluctance, gave way. I got carried away. I told him that I would
offer him my balls and that he could do anything to them short of injury or
castration. I also said I'd drop one limitation each time we met. What I had
in mind was letting him pierce my balls as much as he wanted at the next
meeting, my tits at the following one, my cock at the one after that and so
on. Paul was pleased to know that I'd give him a free hand with my balls,
but still reminded me that I was trying to control the scene.
	 The next time we met was as painful and pleasurable as I'd hoped. When it
came to the piercing I was able to hold my balls up with some pride. There
was one thing that surprised me. He'd put about ten or twelve needles into
my balls when I felt the next stab on the left followed almost immediately
by another stab on the right. I thought he'd put two in in rapid succession.
But with the next one I distinctly felt the stab on the right, pressure on
the right ball, then on the left one, then the stab on the left. The
pressure on my left ball had been to the left, followed by the sting. I
realized that he'd pushed a long needle right through both testicles to come
out on the other side. For a moment I felt sick. I can't explain why it
seemed worse to have a needle go all the way through both balls, but it did.
Then I remembered what I'd written, "I'll offer you my balls without
limitations." I'd written those words, so I had no reason to complain. After
that I felt better, I was doing what I'd promised, I tried to hold them up a
bit higher for the next long needle. Paul noticed.
	"That's a good boy," he said approvingly. "Hold them up for me, there are a
lot more to come."
	He used 36 needles in all. I can honestly say there was not a lot of pain
involved, it was just a matter of getting into the right frame of mind. Once
I realized that I was truly offering another man my testicles, the most
precious and private parts of my body, I felt really hot. After the last
needle was stuck into me he told me that I looked incredibly good. Just
moments later I felt his hot semen splatter down on my chest. After a short
silence he asked if I wanted to come with the needles still in place.
	"It's your choice Master," I was pleased that my voice sounded quite
strong.
	"Good boy. First you must look at yourself." I knew that there would be a
lot of plastic tops, but I wasn't prepared for what I saw. The whole surface
of my scrotum was covered in little green and blue plastic ends of the
needles. There were six long ones that had gone right through and were
sticking out the far side, just like meat on a skewer. I wasn't turned on by
the sight, what turned me on was the thought that I'd offered Paul my balls,
he'd used them and he'd ejaculated looking at what he'd done to them.
	"Lie back," he said, "I'll take out the ones near the base of your cock,
then I'll be able to jerk you off properly."
	I felt eight coming out, not that there was any pain. I didn't know what to
expect with all those needles still in place. Then Paul's hand wrapped
around my cock and started pumping. I could feel a lot of stinging on the
surface of my scrotum as my balls were bounced around. Little stings
scattered all over, then came the flood of semen. Oh Lord what a flow...what
a release!
	Still we kept writing. I told him he could pierce my tits next time we met,
so I was very surprised at his reply. His letter came as a shock. He said I
was still trying to control the scene. He reminded me that he was the one
who had to take responsibility for the scene, that if I trusted him I should
submit without limits.

	"You say you want to submit," he said. "The only way a bottom can show his
top that he's truly willing to submit is to offer his body to his Master. No
if's or but's. That is the only way to great s&m sex."

	I was pretty pissed off by the tone. I told him I'd gone further and faster
than I'd ever expected to go. If he couldn't understand my problems then
perhaps we shouldn't meet again. I didn't get any reply. Maybe the problem
was that guys who get to flying as commercial pilots are not submissive
personalities. The only way to survive in flying is to be in command of the
aircraft and the crew. There's no way to get through a four hour session in
the simulator with a succession of systems and control failures unless you
can keep on top of the problems, and remain in control of everything.
Anything less and it all falls apart very rapidly which means looking around
for a career change!
As far as I am concerned any intercourse, especially sexual intercourse, is
an interaction between two or more individuals or parties. To have a
satisfying intercourse both must get as much as possible of what they need
out of the exchange, anything less and one or other is left feeling short
changed. Frank and I had hit it off immediately because he didn't want
submission, he wanted my balls. I gave him what he wanted, he gave me what I
craved, pain in my balls. Nor did Tom ask for submission, he just assumed
that he could do exactly as he pleased with the body tied to his bed. We
didn't really hit it off on my first visit because I was way out of my
depth. He wasn't too pleased when I persuaded him to stop the shaving for
instance, but he didn't go on about submission. Much later our paths crossed
again and this time things went much better because I'd had more experience.
However, that was further down the road...