Date: Wed, 13 Jun 2007 04:38:47 -0700 (PDT)
From: Sameer N <sammy010105@yahoo.com>
Subject: Revenge of a disrobed pal - 3

 What he had said turned  out to be more than true. It wasn't easy to get the
kind of time we had  on the first day. Some days it was on account of my
brother being home.  On others it was my cleaning lady. But it wasn't like I
got off free  either. My first taste of this realization came a couple of days
later.  As usual we were playing cricket on the terrace. The entire time I was
with him, there were all kinds of things running in my mind. Although  on one
hand, I had somewhat encouraged and possibly even engineered the  happenings of
the first day, I was also mad about it. I somehow felt  let down that he had
never really reciprocated in any way. The whole  time he tormented me, he had
been fully clothed. He had never revealed  even the hint of a hard-on through
his jeans. All those emotions  trickled into the game of cricket. I whacked the
ball harder than ever.  But twice that day, it landed on a spot that I had not
intended. A  rubber ball doesn't do much damage but
 is enough to cause someone to  double up. The second time it hit him in the
groin, he muttered  something like "You're going to kill me." What he didn't
know is that  it was a genuine accident.

 It soon became a bit dark and we  had to head downstairs. The stairs to our
home was enclosed by walls.  It wasn't the safest place to do anything stupid.
For one, it echoed  like hell. Secondly it connected to the kitchens of both
our homes.  Anyone opening the door would not be able to see us if we were at
the  top. But it wouldn't have taken more than 5 seconds to go up the first
flight of stairs to find out whatever was going on.

 I had no  idea of what was to come. But as I headed through the terrace door,
I  found his hands hold on to back of my shorts. In one swoop, he had  pulled
both my shorts and my underwear down half ways to my thighs.

  I choked back a yell. It would  have definitely sounded alarm  bells in both
houses. What came out was a hoarse whisper "Are you  crazy?" I had turned to
look at him. I hadn't bothered to pull up my  shorts from behind. In the front,
they hadn't come down all that much  and although they had already traversed my
pubic hair and the base of  my penis, my T shirt was covering all of that. I
had the bat in one  hand and the ball in the other. I had a good mind to plunge
the handle  into his stomach or worse .. his balls. But to my horror, in one
quick  move, his right hand got to the front of my shorts and next, that was
down too.

 "Not here...man." I croaked in disbelief. I  tried to avoid his hands that
were now trying to raise my T-shirt to  reveal what it was covering. I let go
of the bat and ball, although I  almost died when I heard all racket it made as
it rolled down a stair  or two. I tried to turn around and avoid what he was
trying to get at.  But get it, he did. The way it ended was my right cheek
against the  wall. I had my left had to the wall to stop me from falling down
the  stairs. He had twisted my right hand behind my back with his left. I
could feel his head above my right shoulder. And his right arm had  circled
around my right hip and his fist was deeply entrenched in my  balls and dick.
For all the obvious reasons my dick had been shriveled  up. But the most
obvious reason was the pain in my balls that was so  intense, I had forgotten
to breathe. Even the "aaah" that came out was  a whisper. I was shit scared
that we'd be caught.

  "I know you hit the ball on purpose" he whispered back.

  I was somewhat relieved when his grip gradually began to loosen.   But then
again, I was wrong. Cause his next target was my foreskin  which he seemed to
have an obsession with. He peeled it back as if he  owned it. But then he
pulled it harder inside. Even with a soft dick,  there's only so much a
foreskin can go. I groaned. He may have been  expecting me to get an erection.
But I might have disappointed him  there.

 That only seemed to make him get even more mad.  Because he switched from
pulling on the foreskin to squeezing my  exposed dick. I still had my face to
the wall so I had no way of seeing  what he was doing. But he seemed to be
literally squeezing my pee-slit  and that hurt in a way that cannot be
described. I could actually feel  weird parts of my penis spasm even without
getting hard. And no  question about the pain. It radiated all the way to  the
insides  of my gut.

 He probably did not realize that it was causing me  more pain than any sort of
gratification. I don't think the fear of  being seen and the sweat of the game
were of any help either. The  pressure of the arm-twist increased if I tried to
move and his squeeze  upon squeeze continued for a few minutes more. It must
have dawned on  him too that we were dangerously close to getting caught.

 He  ended it with a killing grip on my pee-slit. And he asked me if I
understood what he had told me. "Yes" I could barely even whisper.

  He let go of my dick and hand.

  By the time I rolled back my foreskin and pulled up my pants, he had  already
bounded down and rung the bell at his house. I walked down the  stairs still
with quite a bit of pain in my balls.

 We did not  have to wait long before the coast became clear. The following
morning,  I had just showered and had put on my shorts and T-shirt when I heard
the knock on the door. I knew it was him. Heck! I was hoping it was  him. I
opened the door.

  "Anyone there?" He had a sly look.

  "No" I said. I did not have to invite him in.

  "Get the cup with oil" I knew what he needed that for.

  By the time we got to my room, I knew  my drill. I had already  started
unbuttoning my shorts. I unzipped the thing and let it fall. I  then removed my
T-shirt. I wanted to tease him by leaving my underwear  on. Finally just after
I wedged my thumbs into the elastic band, I  pretended to show some hesitance.

  "You can't hit me that hard ok?"

  "Yeah, don't worry, there was no blood last time, was there?"

  There was nothing more to say, so I bent forward as I pushed my undies  down.
I picked up the pile at my feet and pushed it aside. I was still  embarrassed
on getting a hard-on in front of this guy. But my body was  rebelling. I had
just begun  getting a bit hard. Although I wasn't  looking down, I was only
feeling the weight of my dick by my inner  thigh. So it couldn't have been
fully erect.

 I'd always been  curious to know what was going on in Atul's pants. During all
the  torture before, I was mostly with my back to him. When I looked up, I  saw
his gaze directed at my groin. So I quickly stole a glance at his  pants. My
eyes almost popped out. From somewhere around the bottom of  his zipper, I
could almost clearly see the outline of his dick. But  that's not what startled
me. I could see it curve towards his right  thigh and then it went straight
down his inner thigh for at least 7  inches or so. How the hell did his 4 inch
flaccid penis get so much of  meat to sport anywhere from 8 to 10 inches, I had
no idea. Much against  my wishes I was already having a raging hard-on.

  The look on my face might have given it away. I saw that sly smile on his
face.

  "Lie down on your back" he said.

  I complied. I however let my calves dangle somewhat from the bed. I saw  him
retrieve something white. It  looked like a small cloth pouch  which had it
mouth tied by a thick string of some sorts. I saw him undo  the draw string. He
retrieved a small plastic bottle from it. It was  around the size of an egg,
only it had a flat base and a neck that  seemed to be missing a cap. I had
never expected Atul to get this  crafty. But I had no clue of what he was going
to use it for. Clearly  it was an odd shape to go down my hole.

 But as the bottle and  his hands got closer, I figured the intended target to
be my balls. The  opening was not wide enough for both of them to go in. He
held my left  one and that seemed to go in ok. But the bottle itself was very
shallow, so it hit the bottom almost right away. Atul struggled with my  right
one. The pain was like someone shoving a pole into my  stomach.  I saw him use
his middle and index fingers pressing down  on my right one, wedging it between
my left balls and the wall of the  bottle. With his other hand he was also
trying to collect my scrotum  and used it to further push my right ball deeper
into the bottle. For a  brief moment, the pain peaked to a point that I had
shut my eyes tight  and stopped breathing. But then I suddenly felt the right
ball relieved  of that intense pressure, as it adjusted itself into the plastic
bottle. I could feel the edge of the bottle's neck at the very base of  my
dick. Atul then retrieved the cloth pouch and
 covered the bottle  with it. He pulled the mouth of the bag over even the neck
the bottle.  Then with a quick move, tightly tugged the drawstring together.
The  neck of the pouch literally bit into my remaining scrotum. I clenched  my
teach and for a moment I panicked about my balls losing circulation.  But the
pain slowly ebbed away.

 Two things were a foregone  conclusion. The only purpose of the ball cage he
had invented, was to  inflict the worst ever whipping on my hole and dick. The
second one  was, I would not be escaping from having to cum.

 In the brief  time when he was kneading my balls, it was the first time, I'd
had such  a fabulous view of his monstrous dick. Even though it was just an
outline. It did however make me feel a bit mad. For one, I got the  sense that
he might have been rolling with laughter after having seen  the size of my
pitiful dick. But more than that, it was pretty much the  first time in his
life that he was getting a "one up" on me. I'd always  beaten him at almost
every game there was. But today, he'd be the one  to critique the way my
pee-slit would part and reveal it's first drop  of pre-cum. He would compare
notes on how many squirts my penis could  manage, as my dick convulsed during
ejaculation and the size of my cum  pool that would result. He would be able to
see the color of my  cum...the whiter, thicker strands of my semen suspended
and splattered  within the thinner, colorless prostatic precum. Heck, he would
even  know the smell of my cum. He was privy to each and every
 detail and I  would have nothing with me. The disparity was depressing. But
all that  depression had turned into anxiety as he kneaded my balls followed by
that burning tug on my scrotum with the drawstring.

 He  rolled me over on my stomach. My dick was way too hard, so I had let it
be this time and it rested pointing to my left almost poking out from  under my
left thigh. But Atul wouldn't have it. Before I could react,  his right hand
was savagely pulling my very hard dick in between my  legs that had now been
spread-eagled. It wasn't hurting all that much.  It just made it distinctly
uncomfortable. The pressure at the base of  my dick made me somewhat lift my
hips a bit.

 My head was  turned to my right. I was expecting him to grab my shorts and
remove  the belt from it, but no such thing happened. So I turned it to my
left, and was just in time to see him pulling something that was red  and
wiggly from his left pocket.

 In the brief second before  he got it out of my sight, I knew enough about it
to know that it was  not a wire. It was way to wiggly for that. Neither was it
a live thing  like a worm or anything. Then I saw what it was, because he held
it  between his hands, clasping either side with his thumbs and index  fingers.
At first I thought it was a fairly thick string. But when he  began to stretch
his hands apart, there was no mistaking about what it  was. It was a broken
rubber band. I shivered. He had figured out a way,  a million times worse than
whipping. There was only one thing a broken  rubber band could be used for. You
held one end with your left hand.  The other end you pulled with your right
hand. You set precise aim with  your left thumb while you released the grip on
your right. The loose  end would deliver a whip lash that would make belting
pale in  comparison.

  "Hey please Atul...hey come on man...pleeeea"

  Before I could finish, he had delivered the first zing to my right bottom.
"aaahhhhh" I moaned.

  "If you move even 1/2 an inch.... I'll make your dick suffer"

  I froze.

  "Part your hole. Quick".

  My hands were shaking, but I managed holding my ass cheeks apart.

  "Closer"

  I wiggled my hands closer to my hole and stretched it somewhat. I was not
looking forward to this.

  "Dig your middle fingers into your hole". "FAST"

  My middle fingers were literally on my hole now. As I parted the hole,  I
could feel the cold air from outside penetrating the tip of my  sphincter.

  "If you let your fingers slip, your dick will forget how to pee  today"

  This brought on memories of Day 1 where he had forced me to piss in his full
view. More humiliation.

  The second zing hit a few millimeters from where it had hit before. I
flinched a bit. His left thumb was too close to my bum and I had no  real way
of telling where the next zing would hit.

 He hit me  a few more times on both my left and right ass cheeks carefully
avoiding my hands that were stretching my hole. But each time, I could  see
that he was extending his right hand even more and the zings stung  worse with
each successive stroke.

 That was his idea of  practice. When he extended his hand for the eleventh
time, I yelled.  "Wait! you can only do 10 in one day"

  "That was belting, not this. And you moved"

  I had moved hardly a bit. My middle fingers were still stretching my  hole.
"Aawwwwwwwwwwwww" The damn zing had actually entered my sphincter  and hit me
deep inside my hole. And worse it had got stuck. I actually  felt Atul tugging
it out of my hole.

  Hell had broken lose. I had let go of my hole and I was madly massaging the
hole using my ass cheeks.

  Without warning. I felt a whopping sting on my peeslit.

  My hips must have flown a good half a foot off the bed. I was in a  pathetic
state of affairs. My middle finger on my left hand was  desperately seeking the
spot inside my anus where the zing had hit it.  My right hand was clasping the
head of my dick, and my thumb and index  were tightly holding my foreskin over
the left edge of my pee slit  where the second zing had struck.

  "Awwwwww" I kept groaning. What I could not comprehend was why my  dick
continued to stay hard.

  "It'll only get worse. Get back to where you were."

  It took me a few seconds to do that. Including shoving my dick between my
legs  and forcing my tortured anal sphincter open.

  He did not seem to miss a thing. With his right hand, he peeled back a  bit
of my foreskin to reveal some of my glans and most importantly my  peeslit. I
could actually feel the cool air soothing my tip.

  "Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh". That was the second shot at my penis. This  one
wedged itself between the lips of my peeslit. I controlled the urge  to move,
only allowing myself to shudder and take short breaths.

  "Awwwwwwwwww" Another one, pretty much the same place.

  "aaaaahhhhhhh" This one was to my hole, but the inside left.

  Each stroke was precise. I could make a mental map of each zing. I could
mentally see pictures of boils sprouting out.

  "aahhhhhhhhhh" This one was different spot....the bridge between the  penis
and the foreskin.

  "Awwwwwwwww" He seemed to be finding new spots...it was below my hole  at the
place where the scrotum joins.

  He also hit exposed regions of my bum, but that hurt nothing compared to the
other places.

  Then there was a pause. I was too preoccupied with the million nerves
tearing out in pain. By the time I began to look, he had finished doing
whatever it was he had stopped to do.

 I began to sense the  welcome feeling of oil dripping into my hole followed by
the unwelcome  sensation of something hard trying to push itself in.

 Was  my anus swollen or was it something else. It was pushing way to hard on
my hole and my hole was refusing to budge. I tried looking behind. But  my gaze
fell on something very unsettling. My candle! It was right by  the window where
I had cleaned and placed it on day 1.

 So  what the heck was this? It didn't take me long to find out. Atul had
paused to smear whatever it was with more oil. He had also gone to  retrieve my
candle. That's when I saw it. It was another candle, but it  was just way too
big. And Atul had gone start raving mad. He had  actually carved it in the
shape of a phallus, only this one was around  2 inches in diameter. I groaned.

 He wasted little time. He  put copious amounts of oil on my candle and began
to probe it into my  ass hole. I moaned as he twisted and turned the candle in
his attempts  to coat the insides of my colon with A LOT OF OIL. He penetrated
the  candle several times until it slid smoothly in and out of my sphincter.

  Then came his candle. My hole was absolutely unprepared. But Atul was
relentless. He pushed harder and harder. I almost started sliding  upwards on
the bed. I was beginning to feel like going to the loo. I  tried to push it
away, like I would when I had constipation. But wait,  I could actually feel it
going it, tearing apart my sphincter in the  process.

 I had lost count of the seconds I had forgotten to  breathe. The sensation of
the candle's dick head plunging into my colon  made me exhale all my breath in
the form of a scream "aaaahhhhhhhhhggg"

  Atul cared less. Each millimeter of the candle was like someone grating
sandpaper on the linings of my sphincter. My sphincter was cramping  like the
worst diarrhea I've ever had.

 It felt like years  before the candle was in. When Atul backed off a bit, one
more mystery  was solved. The huge hard on he had had was replaced by something
a bit  smaller. This one seemed much more reasonable than the one I was lent
to believe earlier. I was in much pain to gloat on this fact.

  Atul was in no mood for stopping. My own hard-on was bothering me quite  a
bit. The pressure at the base of my dick was now beginning to hurt a  little.
And just when I tried to adjust my dick, I felt him peeling my  foreskin all
the way. My glans must have been bruised. My own sweat was  beginning to sting
me at various points on my glans and foreskin. He  then did something strange.
He rolled back the foreskin over the glans,  albeit with some difficulty, since
it had firmly tightened around the  base of my dick head.

 I could feel the firm up-and-down  motions of my foreskin over my glans. I was
being masturbated. He  retrieved a small plate that I had put the cup of oil
on. He placed my  penis on it. The damn plate was made of metal and had a
circular wall  around ½ an inch around. It was biting into the trunk of my
dick. I was  already marching towards the peak in terms of a massive orgasm.

  He seemed to squeeze my peeslit with my foreskin. I could feel the  moist
cooling effect of my first drops of precum that he squeezed out  of my cock.
Once he was convinced nothing more would come, he would go  back to longer
strokes.

 I was busy focusing all my energies  in getting to the point of ejaculation.
The only pain I now felt was  the throbbing pain at my sphincter, but it wasn't
high enough to ruin  the orgasm.

 For some reason,  it didn't seem I was  getting there. I felt Atul do more
squeezes to my peeslit whenever  precum trickled out of it.. I could feel
streams of it going through.

  Ejaculation sometimes can be tricky especially if the external stroking  and
the internal build up to the orgasm  are  out of synch.  Even before I would
get half way to my peak, Atul would suddenly change  his stroking .. sometimes
going back to squeezing my peeslit. To make  things worse, the plate was really
biting into my skin of my penis. The  first drops of cum went almost unnoticed
for me. I only knew because  Atul's hand suddenly jerked. May be he was
anticipating a spray of cum.  But then he went on to using much more force to
squeeze out the drops  of cum. I could feel the distinct difference between
precum and the  thicker drops of my semen.

 All this actually seemed to work  more in favor of my orgasm. I reached a peak
that I had never ever  experienced before. I could feel everything from my hips
to distinct  areas of my scrotum and dick spasm. The first wave was the
largest.  Atul had sensed it cause he had pressed my dick firmly against the
plate. I wasn't counting the waves that followed, but they were many,  each
successively decreasing in intensity from the previous.

  I was totally wiped out. I did not mind him squeezing drop after drop  of my
cum from my dick. Our individual objectives had been met.

      Or  were they? Atul took for ever to squeeze every drop out and he
carefully replaced the plate on the window sill. I couldn't imagine why  he
didn't allow me to cum onto a towel or something.

      My  dick had started shriveling. Atul then tugged at the candle that was
deeply embedded inside my gut. My dick was real sore and my sphincter  was
doing it's very best to clamp down even more onto the candle. As  the
disk-head approached the sphincter, I moaned "awwwwwwwww". Atul was  pretty
merciless in the way he practically plopped it out of my anus.

      Then  he asked me to go on all fours on the bed. Even as I began
wondering  what he was up to next, the plate with spurts of my semen was
retrieved  and placed in close proximity of my dick.

      He then proceeded to masturbate me for a second time. I  pleaded "Awwww
please Atul, you've already screwed me once."

      He  seemed to ignore me entirely. My glans felt raw and was highly
sensitive. Every stroke seemed to hurt to the very core of my penis.  But what
astounded me was that my erection was gradually turning on.

      His  stroking became even more erratic. I was trying to distract myself.
I  glanced at the plate under me. For the first time, I was seeing my cum,  as
Atul had first seen it. The quantity of cum had been average. I  could see
blobs of cum on the rim of the plate where Atul had squeezed  my dick for
extracting each drop. I did have moderate amount of precum  mixed in it.

      I  was thinking of all the things I could to keep myself from feeling the
pain on my glans and balls. The first ejaculation had been under 15 to  20
seconds. This one was going well beyond 10 minutes. I was groaning.  But I
could feel the orgasm slowly beginning to build. As it did I  began to lower my
waste. It was like a trigger for Atul. His frenzy  kept going up. Finally, my I
felt my butt spasm, Atul firmly held my  penis over the plate. I saw a couple
of streams of cum spraying onto  the plate.   I could only wait for him to
squeeze me of every drop again. It took for ever. I tried to lift my  butt
somewhat and my dick slipped from Atul's hand. A drop of cum ended  up on his
thumb.

      He  carefully stowed away the plate. I had no idea what hit me. The zing
had caught me right at the center of my anus. "ahhhhhhhhhh" As I began  to
lift my hands to cover my hole.

      "If you move...."

      He did not have to finish the sentence.

      I  earned more than 20 or 25 zings over my anus. Although I wasn't
stretching my anus, quite a few found themselves deep inside my hole.  My hole
must have been widened by the candle. The ones that hurt most  were the zings
that touched the inside walls.

      That  afternoon, Atul had a third go at me. I was barely able to produce
one  stream. It came out more like a very stringy blob. A couple of drops
followed perhaps.

      For  the first time in almost 2 hours, I turned over on my back. My dick
was  so shriveled, it was less than an inch in length now.

      After giving me around 3 or 4 minutes, Atul handed me the  candles. He
asked me to wash them clean, which I did.

      When I returned, I headed to retrieve my shorts.

      "What the hell are you thinking." He pushed me onto the bed  and asked
me to go on all fours again.

      My  first few zings was to my anus. Then he aimed some from under my legs
and targeted the tip of my foreskin. I could not help allowing tears to  flow
down my eyes.

      Atul was relentless, both on my penis and my anal ring.

      Then  he put the plate under my mouth. I resisted and was immediately
rewarded. The zings were to the bridge between my scrotum and anus. My  anus
got the brunt of all the zings, followed by my glans and pee-slit.

      I  used both my hands to tilt the cum. It pooled at the edge and I lifted
the plate and sucked it up. Up until now, I had never tasted my own  cum. The
slime was somewhat the consistency of raw eggs, but on the  saltier side. I
could also smell a bit of my own urine. If all that was  not enough to
humiliate me, he asked me to lick the plate clean.

      Finally  he untied the draw string and pulled the cloth pouch off the
plastic  bottle that had enclosed my balls all this time. He wasn't planning
on  doing this gingerly. He yanked the bottled down. "awhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhh"  Both my balls were competing to get  out through the narrow neck. Atul
then caught hold of my scrotum and  pulled one of them out. It hurt like hell
but was better than squeezing  both of them together. The second one came out
quite easily.

      Only  after that did he throw the shorts at my face. Day 2 had just
concluded. Atul had not only masturbated me, but he had done it till I  had
gotten dry ejaculations. He had made me wipe off my own bits of  shit from the
candles. And then on top of that he had made me drink my  very own cum. It was
close to 4 O'Clock. I managed to pull on my  underwear and shorts and the rest
of it. I cleared up all the stuff  that was lying around and I crashed. I did
not hear him leave my house.  I was too exhausted and hoped that Day 3 would
come many weeks later.  But I was wrong.

      ... To be continued ...