Date: Thu, 31 Dec 2009 00:25:04 -0800 (PST)
From: z119z 2000 <z119z2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: Rings

Rings

z119z

Copyright 2009 by the author.

The nipple rings were circles of heavy gauge wire with a steel bead at the
bottom of each. They were threaded through the base of the nipples, with
the beads centered directly below them. They forced the nipple to stand
erect. The aureoles surrounding the nipples were large for a man, and
dark. The rings gleamed against them, and the beads caught the light as the
dancer flowed from one movement to the next on the stage. As his arms rose
and fell, his pecs flexed and relaxed. The rings moved--closer together,
further apart, up, down. Slow undulations of flesh and light.

The dancer's exertions on the stage had no apparent impact on him. His gaze
was inward, away from the crowd surrounding the platform on which he
danced. He was distant, in a separate place. Each scallop of his abs stood
out, and his thighs and calves were full and rounded. His biceps bunched
and rose and fell with every movement of his arms. As he rotated on the
platform, his back and ass came into view. Jarod waited impatiently until
the dancer again faced him. His eyes focused on the chest. The dancer's
pecs were sharply defined, with the nipples close to the edges of the outer
curves, the steel rings that pierced them accentuating every movement of
the dancer's body.

"Look at the nipples on that one."

"Nice. Bet you'd love to get your hands on those."

"My mouth is more like it."

The voices came from directly behind Jarod. Soft voices, barely audible
above the noise of the crowd, almost as if the conversation was taking
place in his mind. The two men had to be standing right next to him. The
dancer stopped turning and moved in place facing Jarod.

"Look at the way the bead shines in the light. It's like it's the only
thing in the room."

"It's hard to focus on it. He's moving about so much."

"Just let your gaze soften. Don't try to stare directly at it. Just let it
fill your vision."

"Don't think about it. Let your mind empty of all thought except the ring
and the light on the bead."

"Just relax your eyes. Enjoy the light. Experience the light."

"It feels so good to relax. It feels so good to watch the ring and the
light on the bead and just relax."

The voices droned on in Jarod's mind, repeating the same messages over and
over. Relax. Enjoy. Feels so good. Experience the light. Relax.

The noise and heat of the crowd faded away. People walked around Jarod,
occasionally bumping into him. His gaze never waivered. There was only the
dancer. Only the voices. Someone handed him a drink. He absent-mindedly
raised it to his lips and drank. "All of it. Drink all of it," insisted the
voices. Jarod tilted the glass back and drained the contents. He didn't
even notice when the glass was removed from his hand. He couldn't take his
eyes off the dancer.

"Your nipples are so sensitive. When we touch your nipples, you feel so
much pleasure. More pleasure than you have ever felt in your life." One of
the men standing behind him wrapped his arms around Jarod's chest and began
gently stroking his nipples with his fingertips. "Focus on your
nipples. Only on your nipples."

The man holding Jarod began to sway gently, matching his movements to those
of the dancer on the stage. Jarod relaxed into the circle of the man's arms
and let himself be moved back and forth. It felt so warm and safe and
comfortable to be held in those strong arms, to be pulled back against the
man's body, to feel the man's breath against his neck as he spoke.

The man's fingers stroked Jarod's nipples through the thin fabric of the
T-shirt. The other people in the room disappeared from Jarod's
consciousness. There was only the man whispering in his ear, guiding him
closer to the dancer, his body pressed against Jarod's back. There was only
the dancer, only his nipple rings gleaming in the dark room. There was only
the pleasure that began at Jarod's nipples and spread outward through his
body. The warm, languid pleasure that made his arms and legs feel so tired
and heavy, the warm, languid pleasure that made his mind feel so open and
relaxed. He didn't want to think any more, he couldn't think any more. All
he could do was listen to the man's voice inside his head and focus on the
dancer's nipples as the dancer backed away, offstage, and the man and Jarod
followed him down the corridor and into the room at the end.

*****

The man guides Jarod closer and closer to the dancer. He speaks, and
Jarod's mouth opens. Jarod brushes the tip of his tongue against one of the
dancer's nipples. He licks it, feeling the flesh of the nipple yield
slightly and the steel ring press into his lips. He gradually draws the
nipple into his mouth and lets his teeth rake gently over it, not enough to
hurt, just enough to send a sharp electric thrill of pleasure running
through his mind. The nipple stiffens, and he sucks it into his mouth,
licking it now, harder and harder. He seeks out the other nipple with his
fingers, rubbing it gently between them at first, and then tugging on it,
arousing himself with the alternation of caresses and pinches. The man
presses him into the dancer. The man and the dancer wrap their arms around
each other, containing Jarod between the two of them, their nude bodies
surrounding his naked flesh and heating it with their own heat. The dancer
moves slowly, and slowly Jarod begins to move in time with him, matching
his own movements to those of the dancer and the man, their
sweat-lubricated bodies gliding over one another.

Jarod's mind grows blank. His flesh is more alive than it has ever been.
Each movement of the others against his body makes him feel weaker and
weaker. His will has been taken away from him. The voice inside his head
tells him what to do, and he does it. For him, there is nothing but the
voice in his head and the bodies.

The man lowers Jarod onto the floor. The dancer kneels over Jarod's hips
and slowly impales himself on Jarod's cock. He continues to dance, rising
and falling with the rhythm of the music, as he takes Jarod's cock within
himself.

"Focus on the nipple rings," says the voice inside Jarod's head. "There is
nothing but the rings. Their motion is your motion."

The nipple rings gleam in the dark room. The eyes of the man on the floor
follow their every movement, as the pleasure swells within his body. Every
movement of the dancer doubles the hot pleasure within his mind and fills
him with submission.

The dancer holds out two rings, rings identical to the ones that pierce his
own nipples. The man on the floor takes the dancer's hands and guides them
toward his own nipples. When the metal rings touch them, he moans with
desire. Behind him, the third man holds up a gleaming needle and then
gently pinches the right nipple until it stands erect. He inserts the
needle, piercing the nipple, and threading a ring through it.

The man on the floor cries out as a hot bolt of pain and pleasure passes
through his nipple. He groans again when the dancer screws the bead into
place closing the ring. His gaze remains fixed on the dancer's nipples. His
mind is empty of all thought. He is nothing but desire, his body held just
at orgasm, a tidal wave of pleasure reverberating in his mind and engulfing
his body, destroying his old self.

When the needle pierces his left nipple, his body becomes rigid. The ring
flows through his nipple and his mind. Only the rings matter to him now.
The dancer slowly screws the bead into place. Each movement of the bead and
the ring pulsate through the man's body. When the circle is complete, his
cock thrusts upward into the dancer and ignites in orgasm.

*****

The two dancers on the small stage wear only thongs and nipple rings. The
beat of the music makes the rings vibrate, and they automatically adjust
their movements to match the vibrations of the rings. Their eyes are blank,
and they seem oblivious to the audience. Yet the audience is not oblivious
to them. They stare. The smell of their desire thickens the air in the
bar. Their breathing becomes harsh. Groans rise from deep within their
bodies. Their eyes focus on the gleaming beads beneath the nipples,
following their every movement with their eyes. To the right, the left, up,
down. The undulations of light drawing them in, arousing them, emptying
their minds and filling them with longing. Their tongues flick out and lick
their lips, each of them wanting to take a nipple between his lips and feel
the body-hot metal of the ring burning his mouth.


(Please send any comments to z119z2000@yahoo.com.)