Date: Sat, 10 Dec 2011 15:46:12 -0800
From: Earl Wright <rj99352@gmail.com>
Subject: Jay's Torture - Chapter 3

Jay's Torture, copyright 2011 by RichlandJoey.  All rights reserved.

If the concept of a male of legal age submitting to abuse and torture at
the hands of a sadistic Man offends you, then you've obviously come to the
wrong site.


On the subject of feedback, I am overwhelmed by the response!!!  This is my
first attempt at writing and hoped that, by reading so many other stories
and seeing writing styles that were sometimes lacking, that I could produce
a text that was a bit easier to read and would hold the reader's interest
better.  I may have succeeded - I received over 2 dozen very enthusiastic
messages.  The only minor negative comment was one I noted myself when I
finally saw the first chapter posted - it was only 9 kb.  I'll do my best
to provide longer chapters in the future.


There has also been a very long delay is posting this third chapter and my
readers deserve an explanation.  This story started as a means of
introducing the real "Jay" to the possible forms of abuse and torture he
could expect to endure.  We'd carried on a meaningful exchange of messages
for over 2 months until the time came for him to commit to being an owned
slave.  Like so many others, he turned out to be nothing more than a
jackass looking for some jack-off material.  I shelved the story for a
while.  It's time to resurrect the story line and proceed to the conclusion
I had envisioned.


Now - on with the story!

Jay's Torture
Chapter 3


I'd like to say it was a restful night but I knew that wasn't to be.  Given
the tendency for gay boys to have erotic dreams, combined with the added
physical stimulation of being bound, hooded and locked in a chastity
device, it is inevitable that my captive victim would experience random and
frequent erections.  As his dick tried to grow inside the restrictive
acrylic device and, as his cock swelled and stiffened causing the teeth on
the points of intrigue to dig into the meaty base of his cock, significant
discomfort and even pain often woke him from his dreams, resulting in
frequent but futile attempts to shift his position to ease his discomfort,
facing the perfect Catch-22 dilemma, not wanting to get an erection to
allow him to sleep and avoid the pain while, at the same time, craving the
pain he so desired that stimulated him to erection.  I, of course, was of
little help in his attempt to get some sleep.  Every time his moans and
squirming awoke me, I'd reach over and gather his nuts in my hand, fondle
them playfully and squeeze them in between my fingers.


Like all good things, this too must come to an end.  As the sun was peeking
through the curtains creating slivers of sunlight across the covered body
of my victim, Mother Nature made her presence known when my captive boy
said quietly, "Sir, I need to go to the bathroom."  Since a similar urge
had been building within me as well, I figured it was time to get on with
the day's activities and abuses.  After drawing back the covers over my
captive boy, I untied the rope at the leather harness and the handcuffs,
allowing the boy to straighten out (literally, of course) and stretch his
abused muscles.  Retrieving the keys from my nightstand, I released the
locks that held his wrists and ankles together.  Exiting my side of the
bed, I proceeded to the opposite side and assisted the boy to his
feet.  Leading
him to the bathroom, I directed him to remove the plug from his ass then
take care of his bathroom needs.  Since I hadn't removed the blindfold
attachment at the hood, he assumed, correctly of course, that he was to
perform his duties without the benefit of being able to see what he was
doing.  Pausing briefly to watch him feel his way around the bathroom
vanity to locate the sink and begin extracting the plug from his ass, I
exited to the other bathroom to take care of my own necessities and
ablutions.


Upon completing my tasks, I returned to the other bathroom to find my
captive standing at the vanity, head bowed, hands clasped behind his back,
feet spread slightly and a clean butt plug sitting on the side of the sink.
Pleased with his obvious submission, I retrieved a short length of chain
with a snap-hook and clipped it to a d-ring at the neck of the hood.  Giving
the chain a firm tug, I led my captive to the kitchen, positioned him on
one of the short carpet runners I had placed there and said, "Kneel and
relax, boy."


My victim promptly dropped to his knees, sat back on his ankles and bowed
his head.  I released the leash and turned to my duties in the kitchen,
preparing breakfast and coffee for the 2 of us.  Nothing elaborate, just
some fried eggs, bacon, and toast.  I had briefly considered slave rations
but, given what I have planned for him over the next several days, I opted
to feed him well to keep his strength and stamina up for all the abuses he
will be enduring.  I set up a short tray table on the floor and placed his
plate of food, juice and coffee on the tray.  I removed the padlock from
the neck of the hood he was wearing and locked his wrist cuffs together
behind his back.  I then unlaced and removed the hood, placed a straw in
his cup of coffee and glass of juice.  "Eat," I ordered my victim, and he
quickly bent over to begin consuming his meal.  I took my plate of food and
beverages to the kitchen table and consumed my meal, keeping an eye on the
progress of my victim.


When we had both completed our repast, I gathered up the dishes, rinsed
them and placed them in the dishwasher.  Returning to my victim, I grabbed
the leash and gave it an upward tug.  He stood, I wiped his face with a
napkin and I led him to the spare room to prepare him for this morning's
session.   Entering the room, I had him stand next to the table and
proceeded to remove all his restraints; the wrist and ankle cuffs, the
chest harness and the chastity device.


"Climb up on the table and lay down, face up," I ordered and he quickly
complied.  I positioned his legs and arms centered on the lacing hooks that
were mounted in a spread-eagle pattern.  Choosing shorter lengths of rope,
about 10 feet each, I began at each knee and each elbow, latching the ropes
beneath the hooks and criss-crossing the lacings from knee to ankle, from
elbow to wrist.  Selecting a slightly longer length of rope, I placed 3
lacings across his hips.  A final, shorter length of rope was used to place
a couple lacings across his neck, not tight enough to restrict his airflow
but snug enough to keep him from lifting his head off the table.  I could
have opted to do a full body lacing but, for what I had planned, I wanted
as much of his meaty flesh exposed.  Next, I took two thinner pieces of
twine and, with one, started at the head of his mostly flaccid cock and
wound it snugly, working my way to the base of his dick where I tied the
free ends.  With the second piece of twine in one hand, I use the other to
surround his nut sack and pulled it downwards, giving it a good stretch and
forcing the testicles to the bottom of the sack.  With the twine, I started
at the base of his dick and wrapped it snugly around the sack until his
balls were being slightly compressed in their now restricted space.  Taking
still another short length of twine and two, 3-foot long bungee cords, I
placed the plastic hooks of the bungee along the wrappings around his nut
sack and wrapped the new cord the sack and the hooks.


Moving to one wall, I activated the electric winch, it's braided load wire
traveling upwards to a single pulley near the joint of the wall and ceiling
then across the ceiling to another pulley centered over my victim, ending
in a sturdy hook dangling over him.  When the hook was within reach, I
attached a 3-foot spreader bar that had eye bolts at each end.  To each
eye, I attached the remaining hooks of the 3-foot bungee cords.  Returning
to the wall, I activate the winch to retract the braided wire and begin
hoisting the spreader bar.  As the slack is removed from the bungee cords,
my victim's ball sack is lifted upwards to follow the spreader bar.  I
continued raising the spreader bar until my victims balls were stretched at
least 6 inches away from his torso and some guttural moans began escaping
his lips.


Leaning over near his head, I said to him, "Each torture will be more
intense than the last.  I will continue the abuse until you tell me what I
want to hear.  Have you anything to say to me?"  My victims only response
was a negative shake of his head.


With my victim secured to the table, his balls stretched to near their
limit and all that boy flesh exposed and unprotected, I selected my first
implement of attach - a classic leather flog.  My goal was to redden up the
exposed parts of my victim, slowly and steadily.  Knowing what I had in
store for him, I had no intention of tiring myself out so I simply began
applying firm strokes of the leather straps of the flog to his biceps,
torso and thighs.  For an hour, I peppered his body to an average of a
dozen strokes a minute, turning the pale flesh a pale red in the process.  The
strokes to his biceps and torso were well-placed to ensure complete
coverage.  The strokes to his thighs, on the other hand, were a bit less
"controlled" with the fringes of many of the strokes clipping his captured
balls.  While the regular strokes of the flog would elicit a subdued "umph"
from my victim, those errant strokes that also hit his ball sack resulted
in a pronounced yelp of pain.


With the hour complete, it was time to move on to something a bit more
intense.  I returned the leather flog to its hook and selected a plastic
flog - a truly evil device.  With a solid handle, it also had a dozen thin,
flexible plastic rods in place of the leather straps to create a flog.  What
made the plastic flog a more feared device is that each plastic rod also
included a pattern of slightly larger plastic balls molded into each one,
spaced about an inch apart.  While the plastic rod would definitely leave a
welt, the little plastic balls were much more devious, especially when the
flog was "stroked" along the body at the moment of impact instead of just a
straight-down attack.


I began the attack slowly and deliberately.  There was literally no square
inch of his exposed flesh that did not become intimately acquainted with
the evils of the plastic flog.  The welts that criss-crossed his body
resembled a topographical map of all the mountain ranges on earth jumbled
together.  A few of those "mountains" were emitting a viscous, red
fluid...much like the several volcanoes one would expect to find in those
towering mountain ranges.  The trails of blood resembled lava flows and, if
the sounds emanating from my victim were of any indication, a searing pain
accompanied each of those flows.

======

To be continued.........

Feedback welcome:  good, bad or indifferent.  Flamers ignored.

RJ99352@gmail.com