From: stewsmith@aol.com (StewSmith)
Subject: STORY: Fateful Night (1/2)  M/m, wrest, bond, oral
Date: 24 Apr 1995 22:42:02 -0400
Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364)

The following is part true story, part fiction.  The character of Joey 
has been renamed so I don't get my ass beat to a pulp.  My name has 
not been changed.  The following contains Male/Male action, wrestling, 
bondage, torture, and oral sex.  Bad words, also.  If the following 
offends you, why are you still reading?

Fateful Night:

     It was getting dark.  Joey and I had agreed to met at 
seven, at his house.  His mother was away for the weekend, 
his father gone for many years.  I packed a duffel bag with 
things I'd need, things I'd want to use, and things I secretly 
wanted used on me.  A quick bicycle ride and I was at my friend's 
house.  Joey's.

     He answered the door when I knocked, waiting on me.  He 
was dressed in a white tee-shirt and blue jeans.  Let me tell 
you about Joey.  His name is Joe, really.  He's my age, just
turned eighteen.  Curly red hair on his head and chest, and arms.  
Sort of like Gilgamesh.  He's a real mother, violent and 
aggressive.  I like that.  He ushered me in, and we walked 
around to the den.  It used to be the two car garage, but the 
walled it in, added a fireplace, and ended up with a huge 
everything room.  The sofa's had been pushed back against 
the walls, leaving a large open area of carpet in the middle.  
Our wrestling ring.

     See, we like to wrestle.  Body against body, man to man.  We 
watched pro style on TV on Saturday nights, watching Kevin 
Von Erich and the other studs in Dallas.  In Jr. High we pretended 
to be those, and by high school, we just tussled.  Now was our 
senior year, and things turned serious.  We made a bet, winner 
take all.  We'd fight one Friday night, to submission.  It was only 
fair, seeing we never had no referee.  We'd just sweat and strain 
until some said "I give."  So anyway, one fight.  The winner could 
do anything to the loser for the night.  This was nothing new to 
us.  Several times we experimented with bondage after our fights.  
I guess I suggested it, after all, I'm the pervert.

     So far so good.  The new thing was if the winner could get the 
loser to suck cock, the winner would own the loser until graduation, 
three months away.  It took some doing, but he signed a contract.  
Yeah, I know, it wouldn't have been binding, but all I really wanted 
was to get him excited to the prospect.  And he was excited.

     That was it.  The winner tonight had until dawn to get the 
loser to suck cock, then the loser would be a slave for three 
months.  There were clauses about when, and how long, stuff 
to keep our parents in the dark.  I just wanted Joey to be my 
master for awhile.  Wanted so much I forgot the old adage, 
"Be careful what you wish for..."  Anyway, hindsight is 20/20.

     It was Friday night, we were alone for the weekend, and my 
parents knew I would be 'occupied' until Sunday night.  We were 
set.  Step one: we each had purchased the outfit the other was to 
wrestle in.  This allowed us to make sure neither had extra layers 
of protection, or illegal objects.  I pulled out Joey's thong, holding 
it up.  It was a skimpy triangle of wet latex in the front, just 
strings for around his waist and up his butt.  Maximum exposure.  
Black, benefiting his evilness.  I had tested it in the adult bookstore 
before purchasing it.  It would stand up nicely to the pressures it 
would be subjected to tonight.

     Joey just smiled, a wicked grin, expecting such from me.  
Slowly, almost teasingly, he stripped off his tee shirt, revealing 
his buffed chest.  Let's face it, I'm a chest man.  Curly red hair 
matted his pecs, stretching down to his navel, on into his jeans.  
Lithe and muscular he was, more a worker's build than athletic 
or bodybuilding.  He caught the thong as I tossed it across the 
room, giving it a once over before he set it aside.  Off came the 
well-packed jeans, turning to remove his underwear, flashing 
his butt at me but hiding his main equipment.  A quick jerk, and 
the thong was in place, artfully packaging his crotch, while 
exposing the rest of his body.  He smiled again, rearranging 
himself for a better fit.  He then rustled through his own sack 
on the sofa, pulling out a neon yellow something and throwing 
it at me.  "Don't get too attached to it, Studly, you won't be wearing 
it for long."

     I spent a few moments examining my new clothing.  Bright 
yellow, sort of like a speedo suit.  It had a full sized front and 
back, with about an inch on each side.  It was spandex, possibly, 
like a wetsuit only lighter.  Very form fitting.  Fearing foul play, 
I checked the inside for Ben Gay or such, wondering at the 
generosity.  Something was up, I just couldn't guess what.  
With a shrug I set it aside, pulling off my own shirt.  Jeans 
were next, and when I came to the underwear, off it went.  I 
didn't mind Joey seeing my crotch.  It's not like he's never 
mashed it and groped it before.  It also was like a small sign 
of defeat, like a foreshadowing of the way it would be.  Me 
open and exposed, him allowed the dignity of turning away.

     I stepped into the suit and pulled it up.  Or rather tried.  
Almost immediately I knew it was too small. By several sizes.  
As I struggled to get it over my knees, Joey came over, grabbing 
the sides.  With a yank, he lifted me up by the trucks, gravity 
forcing me into them.  They adhered to me once they were in place, 
fitting like a second skin.  The waist and leg openings cut into 
the skin, my cock and balls grossly outlined by the stretchy 
fabric.  I knew what the surprise was.  He kept a hold of the 
sides, sticking his face into mine.  "Ready, Studly?  Last chance 
to back out."  Like hell.

     We circled each other in the den, both half hard and eying 
each other.  A flurry of hands and arms and I found myself locked 
between his chest and bicep, a headlock.  His chest and arm hair 
dug into the sides of my face, his skin not yet sweaty from the 
exertion.  We walked around, me trying to get out, him laughing.  
A quick turn, and we were on the floor.  Floor work is always 
fun, bodies mashing each other until a lucky combination of 
holds, the other person struggling to get out.  Nine times out 
of ten, Joey catches me, but rarely I can get him trapped.  And 
from there, you just wear the other guy down.

     We tussled awhile, both getting in good maneuvers, sweat 
starting to break out.  Joey seemed to take special care not to 
fall out of his outfit.  A battle of bodies and we were down again, 
me sitting on my rump as he forced both my arms behind my back.  
The technical term is a hammerlock, or double hammerlock if both 
arms are trapped.  I called it a bitch.  It was one of the few holds I 
couldn't escape from (unlike rope bondage... I could always get out 
of that) and Joey knew that.  Very well.  He was sitting behind me, 
my back leaning against his chest, using his legs to spread mine 
apart. Crotch-ripped if you would.  There I was, hands being 
worked up my spine, legs slowly widened, and a dull ache starts 
in my balls.  It's been about ten minutes since we started, and 
Joey breathes in my ear.

     "Bet your nuts are starting to ache, Studly.  Like my surprise?  
I tried 'em on and lasted twenty minutes.  Hope you can do better!"  
Another yank and my arms went higher.  The spandex was ever so 
slowly and methodically compressing my balls, almost like 
someone had their fist on them.  Diabolical bastard.  My legs 
wouldn't stretch apart any more, my chest was stuck out to try 
and relieve the pressure on my arms, and Joey was laughing in 
my ear, soft and threatening.  "I'm ready for your submission 
anytime you are, hotshot.  Take your time though, I like it when 
you struggle!"

     About this point, Joey would usually molest me with his 
free hand (another aggravation of this particular hold I hated).  
His right hand snaked around my body, reaching for my helpless 
nipple.  He twisted and pulled it, enjoying the fact I was shoving 
it into his fingers to try and relieve the pain in my arms.  I was 
moaning, weakly struggling.  I learned a long time ago, only Joey's 
blessing would get me out of this position.  And his blessing always 
carried a high price.  He laughed in my ear as he switched hands, 
enjoying my struggles as I tried to evade his tormenting fingers.  
The dull ache in my balls got worse, me unable to relieve the 
pressure slowly building down there.

     At some point he tired of the game, turning real nasty.  
Suddenly, unsuspectingly, he pounded my unprotected nuts 
with his closed fist.  Ball-bashing was nothing new to us.  
He's grabbed them, twisted them, slapped them, even kneed 
me at times.  Usually underwear and jeans absorbed most of 
the blow, and other times, they were just playful swats or 
threatening reminders.  This was full force, sadistic, knuckles 
bared.  It took a second for the pain to reach my skull, my high 
pitched scream quickly silenced by his free hand.  He let me rage 
into his palm until it died to a mere whimper, my breathing coming 
fast and hard.  Once the agony washed over me, the dull ache 
returned, twice as painful as before.  Damn him.

     "You scream again, and you'll wish you never walked into this 
house.  Understand?"  I weakly nodded as his hand roamed from my 
face, down my chest, tweaking a nipple, finally resting lightly on 
my crotch.  I could look down, my privates obscenely outlined in 
the material, his hand gently fondling them.  Once again, I tried to 
close my legs, to no avail.  I was helpless.  I watched in horror as 
he slowly made a fist again, taking his sweet time, lingering in the 
air, teasing me, only to suddenly crash down, ramming my 
defenseless balls again.  It took all my will power not to 
scream.  I started crying, moaning, struggling in his grasp. He 
just laughed and ran his hand up my chest, caressing the mat of 
hair, molesting my tit.  I wanted so badly to curl up into a ball, 
protect my nuts, anything.  But his legs wouldn't budge, keeping 
mine spread wide, the unsympathetic yellow spandex keeping 
the ache at an agonizing level.

     "Do you want to give, now?"  He leaned back, using his 
hand under my chin to force me to arch back also.  I guessed 
it was probably more painful for me than for him.  The strain 
in my shoulders and back increased twofold.  The pressure on 
my jaw kept me silent as he continued.  "We could do this a while 
longer.  I'm enjoying your struggling.  You didn't think I'd let you 
beat me, tonight?"  His hand went back to torturing my sore tit 
as he watched my cry, the pain radiating from my groin and chest, 
my arms useless behind me.  I'm just glad he stopped racking my 
nuts.  "Please...Joey..." I managed to gasp between breathes.  He 
grabbed a handful of my chest hair, pulling as he softly replied ,"If 
you give, call me 'Master'.  If you don't, begging won't help."  He 
sat me up again, his hand going back to work on my nipple.  "Don't 
think submitting will end the pain," he added, running his hand 
down to my exposed crotch again.  "I've been planning a lot.  
Do you give?"  His fist hovered menacingly over my abused balls.  
I shook my head up and down, nodding my surrender.  "Say it," he 
ordered.  "I...submit..."  It wasn't good enough for him.  Yanking my 
arms still higher, he hissed, "That's not right..." ramming his fist 
for a third time into my aching nuts.  Instead of screaming, I 
yelled, "I SUBMIT MASTER...  PLEASE, MASTER...I SUBMIT!"

     That seemed to be the correct answer.  In the haze of 
pain, I felt him untangle his legs, releasing my.  I had no 
energy to close them, instead letting him roll me over onto 
my stomach, the double hammer still in place.  He forced his 
free hand down the back of my suit, his fingers crawling 
over my asshole, between my legs, ending up wrapping my 
tortured nuts into a fist.  Using my arms and nuts, he forced 
me to my unsteady feet, marching me to the bedroom.  We 
stood in front of a full length mirror he had.  What a sight.  
There I was, pecs straining from my arms forced behind my 
back.   My nipples red from his torment.  A gross bulge in the 
neon yellow trucks where Joey's hand gripped my family jewels.  
My cock as hard as a pipe, betraying my desire.  Tears ran down 
my face, dripping on my chest, my new master's face grinning 
next to mine.

     "I wanted to get a photograph of this moment, but let's see 
if I can etch this picture into your brain.  You see the pussy-boy 
in the mirror?"  He twisted my nuts until I shook my head yes.  
"Are you a slave pussy-boy?"  I'd agree to anything as long as 
he had my balls.  "You submit to me?"  A nod yes.  "I can do 
anything I want to you?"  Another nod yes.  "Ready to suck my 
cock, slave boy?"  A no.  He laughed, jerking my nuts.  "I didn't 
think you'd break that easily.  I'm gonna enjoy wearing you down.  
You won't.  But I think that's why you came."  He then marched 
my pain racked body to the sliding glass door leading out into 
the dark back yard.  He made me open it using my rock hard dick, 
catching the handle with it and sliding it open.  Into blackness 
my master guided me.  I could hardly wait.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

     The cold night air instantly evaporated my sweat and tears 
from my body, leaving me shivering.  Joey frog marched me down 
a brick path to the two old tress in his backyard.  They were 
about five yards apart, tall, not many branches near the ground.  
Around the first we went, until he stopped me between them 
with a jerk of my nuts.  The privacy fence was ten feet behind 
me as I looked at the rest of the yard.  Thankfully, he released 
my nuts, keeping a firm grip on my hands behind my back.  He 
pulled me over to the right tree, using his free hand to guide 
my wrist up in the air.  Hanging from a branch above my head 
was a rope, a slip knot at the end.  He forcefully guided my wrist 
into it, pulling it tight, the knot resting on the back of my wrist.  
Using both hands, he forced my other wrist into a similar noose 
hanging from the other tree.  He was prepared.

     I found myself hanging between the trees from my wrists, 
my feet barely able to touch the ground.  He took a moment to 
rub my chest and back with his hands, working his way down 
my left side, to my ankle.  He brutally pulled it to the tree, 
using another prepared noose to secure my leg to the base of 
the tree.  In moments, my other leg was secured as well.  
There I was, mostly naked, stretched unbelievably tight 
between two trees, arms forced out and up, my legs spread 
wide.  Spread-eagled I was, helpless in bondage, in my new 
master's web.

     He stepped back, critically eying my position.  Thighs 
protesting, pecs strained, balls still squeezed by his gifted 
speedo, he was satisfied with my predicament.  Crossing his 
arms over his pumped chest, he smiled, watching me struggle 
futilely in the ropes.  I still had free movement of my head, 
able to look up at the night sky, down to see the torturous 
yellow spandex that tormented my privates still, side to side 
at the imposing trees.  I could grind my hips, wiggling my ass, 
but that was the extent of my freedom.  The knots holding my 
wrists were unreachable as they stretched my arms high, 
revealing my pits and leaving my nipples exposed.  My legs 
spread, offering no protection for my crotch.  Joey's plaything.

     He approached slowly, running his fingers from my tits 
to my pits, along the pectoral muscle.  I vainly twisted as 
he chuckled.  He then reached for my nipples, one in each hand, 
as he methodically twisted and pulled each.  One at a time had 
always been madding, but both at once was hellish.  He slowly 
raised a knee into my crotch, steadily putting pressure on my 
nuts, reminding me how vulnerable I was.  I twisted and 
struggled as the pain grew, straining against the ungiving 
rope holding me prisoner.  I open my mouth to gasp as the 
agony intensified.  Joey pressed his mouth over mine, ramming 
his tongue down my throat, sucking the air from my lungs.  
Something snapped within me as I struggled against my bonds.  
I helplessly shuddered as I climaxed, shooting my cum into the 
trunks, muscles straining to no avail.  A wet spot grew on the 
spandex.  I was still cumming as Joey pulled away, grinning 
evilly.  "Fucking pussy-boy," he chuckled.  "You'll be punished 
for that.  But first, I'll take a breather, and you'll just hang 
there and moan, slave-boy.  Think about what I'm gonna find in 
your bag, faggot.  And what surprises I got in store for you.  
Oooh, this night is just getting started."  He walked away, 
rubbing his hands.

     I hung there, spent after my ordeal.  I was crying.  This is 
exactly what I wanted, yet it wasn't anything like I imagined.  
Too late, now.  I was trapped.  Tied.  Roped.  Helplessly spread.  
Exposed.  Virtually naked.  Awaiting his pleasure.  And his 
pleasure usually involved pain.  Mine.  The yellow spandex 
still crushed my nuts, keeping the pain at a nauseating high.  
The crying naked pussy slave-boy, hanging helplessly, waiting 
for his new master to come back and torture him some more  
It wouldn't get any better.  Only much worse.  How right I was...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

     I don't remember how long I hung there.  I heard the glass 
door open, and here he came.  He had showered, and was now 
wearing tight black jeans tucked into his black boots.  Instead 
of a belt, he had wrapped more rope through the loops.  A bull 
whip hung at his side.  As usual, he was bare chested, topping 
off the outfit with a black felt cowboy hat.  In other words, 
one hot stud.  My dick instantly started growing, swimming in 
the cum-filled speedo.  Joey watched the physical manifestation 
of my desire, and laughed.  A quick blow with his fist to my 
cock did nothing to dampen my excitement.  I was hard once 
more, a bound stud puppy lusting after his hot master.  
Something else to be punished for.

     He raised his right hand, revealing the Polaroid camera 
he was holding.  I put on a good show, twisting helplessly 
as he said "Cheese" and photographed me.  I protested as he 
stood there and watched it develop.  He took the picture and 
camera to the outdoor table, setting them down.  He came 
back and caressed by throbbing dick through the spandex.  
With his other hand he reached behind me, grabbing my hair, 
pulling it back, forcing my head back.  He leaned close, 
whispering in my ear.  "Is this what you want pussy-boy?  
Want me to get you off again?  Or do you want to hang there 
and look at me?  I'm one fucking stud, ain't I?  You're just 
dying to be my slave.  Slave-boy."  I tried to stop, as hard 
as I could, but his hand and my prick had different thoughts.  
I shot my second load for the night, again into the speedo.  
The white goo seeped through, coating his hand.  He just 
laughed, releasing my hair.  I was breathing hard, hanging 
limply in the ropes as he gabbed my sore nipple, bringing his 
slimy hand to my mouth.  "Clean it off!" was all he ordered.  
I did, tasting my own cum, licking and sucking his digits, 
palm and back of his hand, coating it with my saliva.  He 
laughed, jerking his hand away, giving one last good pull 
on my tit.  I remembered his earlier warning and stifled 
my scream.

     He walked to the side of the house, grabbing a hose 
with a sprayer attachment.  "I see we're gonna have to 
clean you up, pussy."  He used the high pressure sprayer 
to hose me down, forcing the water on my face and chest, 
lowering it to my packed crotch.  It cleaned out the speedo, 
but felt like a hammer on my nuts.  I was whimpering as 
he finished, the dampness cooling my skin until I was 
shivering in the night air.  He came back, playing with my 
chest hair.  "You've been wearing that swimsuit for over 
an hour, boy.  Bet you're just dying to get out of it.  Bet you'll 
do anything to get me to take it off."  I nodded an emphatic 
yes.  "Suck my dick, pussy-boy?"  I hesitantly shook my head 
no, though truthfully, being his slave for three months couldn't 
compare to the agony in my nuts.  I was about to say yes when 
he smiled.  "I'll take 'em off anyway.  I'm glad you said no, 
'cause I'm just warming up.  I don't think you'll like the 
replacement, though.  Don't go away!"  With another slap to 
my balls, playful this time, he walked to the glass door, 
entering the house.

     He quickly came back with his sack and my bag.  I dreaded 
the things I knew were in them, but the pain in my groin 
overrode any regrets.  He sauntered back, taking his sweet 
time, letting me gaze at the striking figure he made, dressed 
in black.  He stood in my face again.  "I thought about cutting 
it off you, but I want to save it for later...  Which means I have 
to untie your legs.  Let me warn you, slave-boy.  You try to 
kick me, or get loose, and you'll be punished.  And so you don't 
get any ideas, I'll tell you your punishment.  I'll crush your 
left ball.  Slowly.  Got it, pussy-boy?"  He said it so 
methodically, so naturally.  He meant it too.  I stood stock 
still as he untied my legs, roughly pulling the clinging 
spandex down my legs until it was off.  He then retied my 
legs, farther apart than before, finally standing up.  I sagged 
in my bonds, free of the consuming pain.  He lifted my head 
by the chin and looked me straight in the eyes.  "Obey me, 
slave-boy, or I'll hurt you.  Bad."

     He walked to the table coming back with an article of 
clothing and a leather thong.  He brought the underwear up 
to my face, showing me his used shorts.  "You can either open 
you mouth, or I can knee you in your unprotected nuts.  I don't 
care.  What will it be?"  I quickly opened my mouth, letting 
him stuff the dirty shorts in it, bits of dried cum flaking off.  
He laughed.  "You're learning, pussy."  He used the leather 
thong to keep it in my mouth, running it through my lips and 
around the back of my head, tying it tight, the cruel leather 
cutting into the corners of my mouth.  I tried working the 
underwear out, but the gag was too tight.  All that was coming 
out was muffled grunts.  He took a moment, fondling my chest.  
"You know.  I think we need some way to tell us apart.  You know, 
master and slave.  I've got just the ticket."

     Joey walked to the patio table, pulling a large jar out of 
his bag.  He opened it as he walked back over, showing me 
the dark gunk inside.  Using his right fingers, he dug out a 
blob, spreading it over my neck, working out along my shoulders, 
finally down my chest.  The stuff smelled horrible.  He coated 
every inch of my body, going down my back, starting at my 
feet and working up each leg.  He took real special care of 
my groin, jacking me off until my dick got hard to really get 
every inch.  Finally he moved to my rear, liberally stuffing 
my ass, using a finger to get it way up my crack.  He stepped 
back, admiring his handy work.  About that time, my neck 
started itching, a sensation of heat moving it's way down 
my body.  Pretty soon every part of my skin burned.  He laughed, 
watching me wiggle, yelling into his shorts.  The pain kept 
getting worse.

     He finally sat down on the ground, leaning back on one 
elbow.  He spread his legs, crossing his ankles so his crotch 
was wide open, one knee on the ground, one sticking up.  He 
ran his free hand down his bare chest, over the sparse red 
hair, eventually resting on the growing bulge.  I could barely 
stand the burning, fighting vainly against the ropes.  I was 
crying into the gag, hating the pain, but lusting after the stud 
before me, playing with himself.  This cost I would endure to 
see him like that, the scene from my fantasies.  He chuckled, 
sometimes moving his hand to a tit to caress it, sometimes 
rubbing his stomach.  And still the stuff burned.

     Sometime later my voice failed.  Looking at his watch, Joey 
stood up, moving back to the water hose.  He hosed me down 
again, using his hand to wipe the stubborn goop off my flesh.  
He roughly washed my privates, ending up shoving the hose up 
my butt, the cool water filling my ass.  Soon it was over, my 
flesh still sensitive to his touch as he ran his hand over my body.  
Looking down, I saw the reason he said we'd be different.  I 
had no body hair below my neck, just smooth, reddish skin.  
Without warning I shot my third load of the night, the white 
cum gushing into the night air.  Joey laughed, whispering in my 
ear.  "Seems you like this shit.  Good.  You'll have something 
to remember me by for the rest of your life."  I turned my head, 
shocked.  "That's right, pussy.  This stuff is permanent," he 
continued.  I just moaned into my gag.  "And I bought enough 
for three coatings, in case we find any... stray hairs."  He 
walked back to the patio table as the truth sank in.

     My respite was brief.  My conqueror was soon back, a long, 
thin object in his clutches.  He grabbed my nuts, his touch 
still causing pain.  With his other hand, he showed me a 
leather thong, one he wrapped around my balls, pulling them 
away from my body.  He let the other end dangle to the ground 
as he dragged over a cement cinder block, an oddity he had 
found in the alley once.  He lifted one end, tying the leather 
strip through one of the two holes.  The other end thankfully 
rested on the ground, but even that partial weight was enough 
to drag my nuts down.  Painfully down.  I tried to lower my body, 
but my arms were tied too high.  Nothing I could do would relieve 
the stress.  Sweat quickly broke out on my chest as he walked 
back to the bags.

     Once more he stood in front of me, holding up another 
prized possession.  "The crowning glory," he said, showing 
me the two clamps connected by a short chain.  He grinned 
as he pulled at my nipples, finally clamping one, and then 
the other on my sore tits.  I didn't know which was worse, 
my nuts or my tits.  He punched me once, in the stomach, 
wishing me 'pleasant dreams' as he slowly walked to the 
patio door.  "I'm gonna go take a nap now.  I'll be back in a 
couple of hours, wanting to know if you'll give me what I 
want.  If you don't, I'll just let you get yourself out of your 
predicament.  Understand?"  With that he entered the house, 
sliding the door closed, turning off the outside light.  
Leaving me cold, naked, hurting, and horny as hell.

     I knew enough by now to know I would never be able to 
get out of the knots he had tied, especially with the added 
torments.  I just steeled myself to endure, knowing I must 
have only a few hours left before it would be over.  Every 
time I wiggled, my tits protested, my nuts ached.  Agony burned 
in my loins, spreading slowly outwards.  I cried, the tears 
leaving a trail of pain as the ran down my sensitive skin.  
The cold air on my naked, hairless flesh gave me goose bumps.  
It hurt, and there was nothing I could do about it.  Except pray 
Joey would come back.  Come back and let me surrender.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

     In a haze of pain, I heard the patio door open.  I couldn't 
guess how long I had hung there, mindlessly praying for 
relief.  He came around into my field of vision, wearing 
only a dark colored speedo.  My prick jerked to attention, 
the movement not lost on him.  Slowly, he spread a blanket 
on the ground, about five feet in front of me.  He then moved 
behind me, his voice whispered in my ear.  "Ready to suck 
dick, pussyboy?" he asked.  I quickly nodded yes, afraid any 
hesitation would give him cause for more punishment.  He 
laughed at my enthusiasm.  I heard him walk away, then 
heard him digging in one of our bags.  In seconds he was back, 
bringing something over my head and encircling my neck.  "I 
had a good idea this might come in handy," he whispered in my 
ear.  The leather collar tightened, sharp pricks sticking my 
neck.  I wiggled in surprise and pain.  "Yeah," he said, "the 
inside's lined with those.  Just a constant reminder this toy 
isn't for show, slave-boy."  With jerk, it was buckled, choking 
me, little dots of pain circling my neck.

     He came around to the front, standing back a ways.  He 
put something to his face, then a flash of light went off.  
He was taking another picture!  There I would be, naked, 
hairless, bound, collared, tit-clamped, my nuts pulled down, 
my dick hard as a rock.  Something else for his growing 
collection.  He walked before me, hooking the chain connecting 
the nipple clamps with a finger.  "You look really hot, Studly"  
Slowly, he pulled forward, taking up the slack, pulling my tits 
out from my chest.  I leaned forward, trying to relieve the 
pressure, only to tug on my tortured balls.  I moaned into the 
underwear gag.  He laughed, and continued to pull.  "I'll tell 
you a little rule.  I'm gonna take the gag off, and when I do..."   
He jerked the chain, sending stabs of agony through me.  "You 
better not make a *sound*!" he ordered.  I wiggled my head, 
the collar restricting my movements.  Anything to get him to 
stop.

     Apparently he was satisfied.  He moved behind me, the 
sounds telling me he had put the camera on the table.  With 
deliberate slowness, he untied the leather thong holding the 
underwear in my mouth.  He laughed when I spit his soggy 
underwear out, finally able to swallow the saliva that had 
gathered.  With determination, he forced the noose around 
my right wrist open, freeing it, letting my tired arm fall to 
my side.  He did the same with the other.  Blood flowed 
through my appendages, sending tingly feelings down my arms.  
It didn't take much effort to wrench them behind my back, 
forcing them into hammerlocks again.  He deliberately placed 
my wrists between my shoulder blades, crossed, and tied them 
with a thong.  He left a little at the end, which he tied to my 
collar, forcing my head farther back.  The pain caused me to 
moan, a bad mistake.  He pushed me forward, and unable to use 
my hands, my legs still tied to the trees, I fell forward, 
landing with a grunt on the grass.  The tit clamps gouged 
into my nipples and agony shot from my tugged nuts, but I 
stifled a scream.

     When I could focus again, I found myself staring at a 
bulge in a green speedo, my head hemmed in by two muscular 
thighs.  Behind the bulge, a trail of red hair rose on a taunt 
stomach, flaring out across a sculptured chest.  Topping 
everything off was Joe's smiling face, triumph flashing in 
his eyes.  His crotch was an inch from my face as he lay 
back on the blanket.  To reach it, I'd have to move forward, 
putting even more pressure on my balls.  That bastard!  He 
could barely restrain his glee as I struggled forward, his 
spandex clad groin within reach of my mouth.  He didn't 
seem eager to help me, and knowing he wasn't the patient 
sort, I started licking the swimsuit.  My tongue's ministrations 
did wonders, his cock beginning to stir in its prison.  The only 
way I was going to get at it was to make in hard enough to 
force it's way out of the suit.  

     I began licking in earnest, like the bulge was an ice 
cream cone.  It tasted of strange cloth and funky sweat.  
It was almost chewy, but I didn't dare scratch anything 
with my teeth.  Joey moaned, letting his head hang back, 
my treasure slowly moving in the confines of the suit.  My 
mouth was dry from all the saliva I was using, coating the 
green mound.  I used more pressure from my lips, running 
them up and down the tubular cock.  I gently guided it up as 
it grew, aiming for the waistband of the speedo.  A quick 
return to the covered ballsac, a little tongue bath, and back 
again to the hardening dick.

     My nuts were screaming in agony, stretched to their 
limits.  I renewed my efforts, overjoyed as a purple head 
peeked out from the swimsuit.  Eagerly I pounced, carefully 
pulling the waist away from Joe's stomach, letting the 
expanding python of flesh snake out.  With relish I chowed 
down on the length of manmeat, ignoring the fact this was 
the first time I had ever done such a thing.  I took it as far 
down my throat as possible, holding it there, ready to end 
this nightmare.  I was rewarded by another moan, louder, 
my dry mouth working even harder at its task.

     It filled my mouth now.  I kept going up and down, 
like my lips were a fist, using friction and wet spit to 
put Joe over the edge.  Every time  I engulfed it, I tried 
to use my tongue to tickle his nuts, anything to get this 
over with.  His breathing grew heavy, his cock solid as a 
rock.  His chest muscles tensed, his pecs bulging, making 
me horny.  His arms fought against themselves, the sight 
of them straining getting me hard, causing more pain in 
my leashed nuts.  I increased my speed, ramming my nose 
into his pubic hair, tightening my lips till they ached.  
"Oooooo" he cried, finally grabbing my hair with his hand, 
forcing his cock deep into my throat.  I couldn't breath, his 
flesh filling my mouth, as I felt his body shake.  I could barely 
tell liquid was pouring down my throat, coating my esophagus.  
Joe was feeding me his cum, sealing my fate for the next 
three months.  I was now his slave, the contract signed in 
blood, and now, his cum.  I felt him softening, my master 
keeping a handful of hair, making sure I swallowed each drop.

     "Pretty pathetic," Joey informed me.  "But I'll make 
sure you get a *lot* of practice."  I looked up just in time 
to catch his evil grin.  He pulled out of my mouth, watching 
cum dribble down my chin.  Within seconds he was standing, 
his feet the only thing I could see.  They shuffled as he 
crammed his cock back into the swimsuit, giving the bulge 
one last grope.  He walked behind me, untying each of my ankles.  
My legs were so sore, I didn't feel like trying to close them.  
I didn't know if I could.  I felt a tugging at my nuts as he untied 
the thong from the cement block.  "Time to get up, Studly," 
he ordered, giving the thong a yank.  The agony motivated me 
to struggle and stand, my legs sore from being stretched for 
so long.  It was difficult to lean forward, my collar wrenching 
my arms higher up my back.  Everything Joe had done caused 
me pain as I rose, my nude body glistening from the sweat.  
He passed the thong between my legs, moving to stand in front 
of me, the thong held just under my chin, a reminder who was 
master.

     "You're my slave 'till graduation," he said, tugging the 
leash until the pain in my balls made me nod.  "You'll do 
everything I tell you to do, or I'll punish you."  Another yank, 
another nod.  His free hand grabbed the chain connecting my 
tit clamps, a good jerk drawing me nearer, so close my naked 
form could feel the heat from him.  He threaded the thong up 
between the chain and my chest, so that any tug from him would 
jerk my nuts up, and the clamps out.  A very diabolical leash.

     With a smile in the growing dawn, he turned away from me, 
heading for the porch doors.  I had to follow, trying to keep the 
leash from pulling my tits or nuts.  I would have given anything 
to turn and run, to have this night over, but I knew it was just 
beginning.  I was walking toward hell, following my new master.  
Everything I dreamed of, and more, was happening, and I was as 
helpless as I had hoped.  No turning back.  The feeling that things 
would only get worse settled in the pit of my stomach.  
How right I was.

* * * * * * * * * *
Comments, criticism, offers, threats to
StewSmith@aol.com
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I do not follow the beat of a different drummer,
I AM a different drummer!   StewSmith@aol.com
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