Date: Sun, 16 Apr 2017 18:00:11 -0400
From: Mark Robinson <ibfoasm62@gmail.com>
Subject: Tree House Torture Game - Chapter Three

Thanks to everyone who emailed me encouragement (and their own hot boyhood
experiences!) about this series so far. All episodes can be found at
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/tree-house-torture-game. IF you
haven't already, you should read those first for the background of this new
chapter.

This story is fiction about consensual sex and BDSM between teenage boys.
If it is illegal to read such material in your jurisdiction, or if you are
under the legal age to do so, please exit this site immediately.

And please, if you enjoy these stories, consider supporting the great free
resource that Nifty gives us. Go to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

***

At the start of our second treehouse game, my teen friend I had offered to
be my teen friend Kenny's slave if he wouldn't torture me again. Of course,
I really wanted the torture if it was anything like what he had done to me
the first time, but I thought this might be an interesting twist to our
game, and I wanted to see what he'd do with it.

Kenny had agreed to the deal, acknowledging of course that as his slave I
could be punished or tortured any time anyway. He then ordered me to give
him pleasure, and I think I shocked him with just how eager I was to do
that. In no time I had his pants down, me kneeling in front of him, and I
was jerking him furiously. It didn't take long for him to cum, but in my
enthusiasm I kept on stroking into his super-sensitive stage, angering him.

And so he ordered I must be punished.

Kenny told me to go kneel in a corner of the treehouse with my hands behind
my head. (We had seen slaves in this position in a movie we'd watched
together.) He was looking around the treehouse and I knew he was trying to
come up with some creative way to punish me.

Then I saw his face light up with a devilish smile. "I'll be right back.
Don't move!" he ordered, and putting his shorts back on, he disappeared
down through the trap door in the floor of the treehouse.

For about ten minutes I was left alone, naked and kneeling on the rough
floor. Alone to think about what we had done and what might be to come.
Both thoughts kept me rock hard the whole time. A part of me was still
ashamed of what we were doing, and worried that it might mean we were gay
(or worse, that someone would eventually find out we were). But on the
other hand, Kenny seemed to be as into this as I was, so that made it seem
more OK. As long as it was our little secret and we didn't overthink it,
just had fun, it seemed good.

Soon I saw the rope ladder leading down from the trap door go taught, and I
knew Kenny must be returning. At least I hoped it was him! For a moment I
was gripped with the terror that one of our other friends might have
decided to pop over and would come up into the treehouse to find me
kneeling in a slave submission position.

Thankfully, a moment later Kenny's head popped through the opening in the
floor. He didn't come up into the room, however. "Come over here to the
trap door," he ordered in a gruff voice. I walked over, and as I did he
climbed the rest of the way up into the treehouse and then stood to one
side of the entrance.

I now noticed that Kenny, still shirtless and wearing only his shorts, had
several loops of cotton clothesline coiled around his neck. He removed
these and dropped them on the floor.

"Now, slave, you will pay for having displeased me," Kenny grumbled, doing
his best to sound like an adult movie villain. "Climb down the ladder until
you can just reach the top rung and stop."

For a moment I hesitated. I knew once I was out on the ladder my nakedness
would be exposed to the outside world.

"What are you waiting for!" Kenny barked. He quickly picked up one of the
short lengths of rope he had brought up, doubled it up, and lashed me
sharply across my chest with it. I fell to my knees shrieking in real pain,
terrified of another such blow. Without another moment of hesitation, I
moved to climb down the ladder.

Once my head cleared the treehouse floor, I could see (and remembered) that
I had nothing to worry about. The high fence around their backyard made it
very private, and lots of bushy trees pretty much hid the treehouse from
the view of the second story windows of the houses on either side.

Remembering Kenny's orders, I climbed down the rope ladder until my hands
could just reach above the top rung. The ladder was made of two thick ropes
hanging from the trapdoor to the ground, with 1-inch wooden dowels between
them every couple of feet as rungs.

"Excellent," Kenny said from above. "Now, turn around so your back is to
the ladder."

This was more difficult than it sounded on the shaky rope ladder, but
eventually I managed to get first my feet turned around on the rung on
which they rested, and then by shifting one hand at a time, swung my whole
body around, so that now several rungs ran across my front. As it happened,
one rung fell just under my cock, so that my balls drooped over it, and my
still-hard teen prick jutted out into space.

What did Kenny have in mind? I had to admit that the anticipation of how he
was going to punish me in this odd position was making me even hornier. So
was the experience of being exposed outside.

Then he reached down through the trapdoor and I began to see what he had in
mind, at least for my bondage. Taking one of the lengths of clothesline, he
tied my left wrist to the outer end of the top rung of the ladder, followed
by my right wrist to the opposite end.

Kenny left the trapdoor and in a moment I saw him sliding down the knotted
climbing rope that we had rigged out the window on the opposite side as a
quick escape route. He came over underneath me, his head at about the
height of my feet, and stared up at me for a while. I could tell he liked
the sight, as he was tugging at the crotch of his shorts. I also saw that
before he had exited the platform he had draped the remaining lengths of
clothesline over his neck and shoulders again.

After a short time, he grabbed my ankles and made me move them to the
extreme ends of the rung on which I stood, right up against the two ropes
that created the ladder. He then tied each ankle to those ropes. When he
was done, I was secured suspended several feet off the ground, stretched in
a sort of narrow X on the rope ladder, with my jutting little cock and
balls sticking out into the air.

Again Kenny paused, backing off a few steps to survey his work. Without
saying anything aloud, I think we both knew we both thought this was pretty
hot. I couldn't believe my young friend had come up with such a cool place
to put me in bondage. I had no idea that this was only a sampling of his
genius.

Kenny then turned and went into the garden shed nearby the treehouse. After
a moment of rummaging around he came out with an old metal bucket and a
ball of twine. What on earth could that be for? I was soon to find out.

He set those down underneath where I hung on the rope ladder, then went
back to the shed and returned with a small, three-rung step ladder. He put
that down below me and climbed up on it, so now he was looking right at my
cock.

"Enjoying this, huh?" he snickered as he gave a little tug on my cock. This
sent an immediate electric shock through me of pleasure, and I groaned
loudly. "Ha! You'll be groaning for a different reason in a moment!" Kenny
was really good at playing the villain, and I loved him for it.

He descended again, then unwound some of the twine and tied it to the
handle of the bucket. I still couldn't guess what he was up to, but I was
definitely intrigued. He remounted the stepladder, set the bucket on its
top step between his feet, and brought the twine attached to it up to as
high as he could reach, then cut it with his pocket knife. Next he reached
down for the bucket and placed it between my knees.

"Hold this," he ordered. I gripped the bucket with my knees as best I could.

And now his plan became suddenly, shockingly, alarmingly clear. He brought
the free end of the string attached to the bucket up near my cock. Then he
gripped my balls right at their base tightly. I sucked in air at the sudden
shock of pain, but also enjoyed feeling his hands on my again. Now he began
to wind the string around the base of my balls very tightly.

"Oh my God, what are you doing?" I yelled.

"You'll see. It's what you deserve for displeasing me."

Soon he knotted off the string tied around the base of my balls. Even
though it was a little uncomfortable, I had to admit I liked the way it
made my balls look bigger, and made them jut out from my cock.

"Release the bucket," Kenny ordered. Slowly, timidly, I eased my knees
apart, until the bucket swung free, tugging the string and my tight balls.

"Ugh!" I grunted, and my breath started quickening. It wasn't a sharp pain,
more of a dull but constant one. And it made me even harder, because it
was, I had to admit, a sexy and ingenious torture.

As Kenny climbed down and moved the step ladder away, I thought that was
it. That was the torture, the bucket swinging slowly back and forth,
tugging at my balls. It was indeed a torture, but a bearable one, and even
enjoyable when I thought about what it must look like to Kenny.

But as you might have guessed, this was not quite the whole ordeal.

****

That's the end of Chapter Three! A bit of a cliff hanger...or should I say
ball hanger....until next time.

Thanks so much for reading, and please keep sending me your own experiences,
your reactions to my stories, and any suggestions you have. Reach me at
ibfoasm62@gmail.com.

And don't forget to support Nifty! Thanks.