Date: Thu, 22 May 2008 15:03:25 +0200
From: Batardsm <batardsm@orange.fr>
Subject: skin fuck 13

He had no idea how long he had been in the stinking pit. No idea what day
it was. All he knew was that in his hellish life, it was always night
time. Always dark behind the two hoods pressing in on his head. The only
thing that told him he was still alive was the pain. The periodic cramp in
his limbs caused by every part of his body being encased in very tight and
inescapable bondage. Also the pain in his jaw from being kept open by the
piss gag and the pain in his arse from the hard metal pole keeping his
sphincter wide apart.

He had stayed quiet to begin with. He did not struggle. He thought he could
take it. But when his Master did not return he started to get
worried. There was nothing in his world just darkness.

After the quiet period came the raging. He swung his body wildly on the
chains, tried to scream as much as the piss gag would allow him. He was
cursing his Master, calling him every name under the sun. But he did not
come. This only made matters worse as some of the vile liquid surrounding
him was disturbed by his movements and the stink in the pit just got
worse. Some of the liquid even got inside the piss gag and into his
mouth. He had no choice but to swallow it.

Then came the sobbing. He could not help it. The tears flowed inside the
rubber hoods.

But this was no use either. He was alone in his pigsty for as long as his
Master wanted to keep him there or even keep him alive. Fighting was
futile. Once he accepted that he was no longer in control of anything in
his life, not even pissing and shitting, or eating, he felt better. There
was nothing he could do but wait for his Master. Once that had penetrated
his thick skinhead brain his life became easier.

After a while he did not know what was real and what was fantasy. Some very
horny and depraved ideas and scenes would pass through his mind but he
never knew whether or not they were real or just imagined. Of course he had
no way of knowing whether or not the food his Master was giving him through
the tube in his nose was laced with any drugs or not.

One memory kept on recurring. He had woken up and he was not in the pit
anymore. He was outside it but not free. He was still in the straight
jacket and was hanging from chains in the ceiling of the garage. His legs
were no longer in their rubber constraints but they were also chained. They
were pulled painfully apart and chained to opposite walls of the
garage. His arse was empty.

His Master was standing off to the left dressed in a black rubber apron
over his skinhead gear. He was pulling thick shoulder length back rubber
gloves over his bulging arms. The muscles of his forearms pushed against
the rubber and could be seen clearly.

After pulling on both gloves his Master pulled a large plastic oil drum
across the floor towards his slave. The top of the oil drum had been cut
off and from his elevated position his slave could see that it was full of
black oil. The oil looked used and had bits floating in it.

"Time you really open up that cunt of yours pig. See whether I get both
arms in it."

He tried to scream through the thick penis gag in his mouth and struggle
against his restraints. He had only ever been fucked before. He had never
been fisted. He knew his Master's arms were big. Even one of them would rip
him apart.

"Shut the fuck up cunt. You ain't going anywhere. So just sit back and
think of England." His Master laughed as he plunged one hand into the oil
drum and started to spread the oil all over the other hand and arm.

It was pointless for him to try and struggle because with his legs
spread-eagled to opposite walls his arsehole hung vulnerably in the air,
just waiting for his Master's fingers. His sphincter clenched
uncontrollably, as if it knew about the impending assault on it.

Once he had fully greased up both gloves with the dirty engine oil his
Master moved towards his victim. The first finger wasn't too bad as it
forced its way past the sphincter. Although his Master pushed it in
forcibly it was quite pleasurable. Good to have some of his Master back in
him again. He moaned as his Master pushed his finger in and out.

"Fucking whore."

Then came the second finger. After some initial discomfort it felt good
again, opening him up slowly. Then came a third and again wasn't too bad
although his sphincter felt really stretched. But even that stretched
feeling felt so good.

He struggled and tried to lift himself up off his Master's hand as the
fourth finger tried to force its way in up his arse. But gravity was
against him and he had no choice but to come back down onto the four
fingers. His arse was now on fire. He was breathing heavily and sweat
started to break on his face.

He was shaking his head vigorously from side to side and moaning "no"
through the gag. But he knew it would be ignored. Slowly but determinedly
his Master started pushing his whole hand up the skinhead's arse.

He could feel this huge mass just pushing further and further into him. It
was not going to stop until it was inside his arse cavity. It was agony. He
knew something would have to give. He pushed out his sphincter as much as
he could. To open himself up as much as he could so that his Master could
make it inside him.

The sweat was pouring down his face and inside the rubber straight
jacket. Finally something gave and the rubbered fist pushed into his arse
cavity. As it slid into place he screamed into his gag.

It took a while for him to catch his breathing again and to realise the
pain had subsided and that the fullness in his arse felt good. His Master
started to push his fist backwards and forwards in his arse, fucking him
with his fist. It was ecstasy. His mind was flying as the fist pushed
against his prostate. He had never felt anything like it before. It was
amazing. He did not know how long this heaven went on for but it felt so
good.

But then he was brought to with a bump when his Master started to plunge a
finger from his other hand into his slave's hole in addition to the
fist. Then came two and then.

By the time his Master's third finger and fist was up his arse, he had
thankfully passed out. But his Master did not stop until both fists were in
his slave's arse and the floor beneath was bloody.