Saturday, 5 November 2011

slave time 2

At the top of the stairs we turned right, so it was to be the dungeon.
"Hands behind, palms together." Those words meant the start of a session that would be as erotic as it was painful. Sir was a master of the rope and quickly secured my wrists together in a way which meant it was impossible to escape but would not hinder the circulation. He wound the ropes higher and higher up my arms. Every new loop pulled my shoulders back and together a little more until my elbows were tied and my chest was taught making every breath a bit of a strain. Satisfied with me so far he tweaked my nipples "playfully" making me twist away as best I could and earning a slap across the face. Turning to the bench he picked up the kneeler and with his free hand grabbed my cock and balls, pulling them and twisting them so they could be locked into the centre fixing of the bar. After slowly getting me aroused even more than I already was he snapped the lock shut making sure that he didn't pinch the skin, wrong sort of pain, then told me to kneel down. Turning the bar to fit behind my thighs he then locked the end cuffs on to my ankles. This was a position that meant I was open for any and all the abuse he could administer. Totally at his mercy. He then slid back a small door that covered a recess in the wall and told me to crawl in. It was a bit less than three feet square and set into the thick brick foundations of the house. He had secured fixing rings at various points too so it could be a very small prison if necessary. I crawled forward until I was about to enter. He pulled on my arms to stop me, lacing a strap with a ball gag onto my collar and making sure the ball was well and truly in my  mouth. Then he pulled a black fabric hood over my head, Pushing me forward he directed me into the hole in the wall. There he managed to fix a couple of clover clamps onto my chest and presumably then joined them by a chain to a ring on the brick floor as I felt excruciating pain pulling my tits every time I tried to move my body. The next thing he did was to tie my wrists to a cord hanging from the roof so my face was nearly touching my knees. The last thing was to shove a greasy finger up my arse. My mind leapt at the possibilities but suddenly realised that he was slowly pushing a metal plug into me. It was a slow purposeful strong hand that finally got it in position, me crying out through the gag with every centimetre. He slid the door shut and bolted it.
Now, you may think that was easy, a bit of tit torture and some bondage. However, in that position and after a very short time your muscles begin to cramp. You tend to make involuntary movements but every one of them hurts like hell somewhere else. You try to relax your back muscles, this pulls your tits, moving your lower body pulls your balls, any leg movement very nearly castrates you, arms cramp so you lift them up but this pulls your chest and so it goes on. Your body cries out for release and within half an hour I was sweating all over. Breathing was laboured anyway, the bag hood made it worse, damp with dribble from the gag and hot breath. The cell was rough on every side, old bare bricks. Knees burned with being rubbed sore on them
His final act was to turn the electro plug onto a slow vibration which turned on and off every couple of minutes. This kept me wanting to cum and made sure the kneeler was not going to fall off. It squeezed my erect cock making it all the more desperate for me to pull on it until I could finally orgasm. But I couldn't move a muscle without hurting myself somewhere.
I made my mind fall into the black hole which was all I could see in my imagination. The further I fell the less pain I felt. This worked until the plug kicked in again and shot me back to the present. I must have lasted like this for about an hour and a half before I heard the door slide back and a strong arm pulled me towards the opening. I felt the cold air as it hit my sweaty skin. As he pulled me out and untied,unlocked and unclipped me from the bondage I tried to straighten. This was the worst agony. Cramped, sore and now cold I could only stay knelt in front of him.

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