Justins Challenge

Author's Note:

What follows is a work of fiction. It does contain minors and man/man sex as well as strong BDSM themes - if this is not your taste, or if it's illegal to read such material in your area of the world safely browse away.

The characters exists in a fictional world where many of the concerns that are part of our normal daily life do not exist. Keep this in mind while reading this and always mind your own safety and health.

It's not allowed to publish this work elsewhere without the author's express, written permission.

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• 8 -

Justin walks to the wall, and waits with abated breath. He is in for a serious punishment and he finds himself dreading the upcoming pain. He locks his hands behind his head, kneels down and tries to cast his mind to a different place. Not so much because of what his Master would do to him shortly, but because his throbbing, oozing, pulsing erection asks for only the lightest of touches by his hand to offer him sweet, exploding release.

When Justin was handed his test back in class yesterday, he knew he was in trouble. The big C in the upper hand corner told him he was. When he made the test earlier in the week, he had trouble concentrating on the questions as the plug in his ass was sending waves of pleasure into his aching balls en throbbing cock. But when he handed in his result yesterday his Master didn't ask, nor did Justin offer it. Both Master and slave knew that excuses were irrelevant. If anything, they would only serve to make Justin's punishment more severe.

Of course, Eric was invited to come and watch if he wanted. Justin didn't doubt his friend would accept the invitation. He had been on a rush the whole evening, his eyes feasting on the sights and his mind asking a thousand questions.

Justin thinks about his chores for tomorrow and his homework as he sits on his knees on the hard floor. As he makes a shopping list for the groceries his mind drifts to a boy who works in the supermarket in the weekends. A boy that can throw him on top of the vegetables and plunge into his asshole with abandon. Justin yearns for a good, hard fuck. He longs for shooting his seed into another boy's hole or mouth. His desire is far, far worse after less than a week with the equipment than it was after two weeks without.

It takes him considerable effort not to solely think about sex, cum and being used properly. Though he knows that he is about to suffer, he also looks forward to the punishment. His master hasn't touched him in days and he misses it. Of course, the pain is constantly with him and that helps, but it isn't the same as having his Master take the whip or cane, or anything else to him.

As he sits on the floor, the coolness of the cellar slowly creeping into his body, he waits. His flat, muscled abdomen pulled-in tight, his ass tense and his shoulders pulled back. He can maintain his form for quite a few hours now, but that had taken practice, lots of practice. If Tim lasts he will start with that soon and he will find that serving his Master is challenging in many ways.

Drops of precum ooze out of his cockhead and slowly trail down his cock. They build up a little river until drops start to fall down from his balls. It tickles but also threatens to refocus his mind on his lust. God, how he wants to cum. Sucking off Eric had only made it worse, and when he had been ordered to suck off all his brother's he been left with a stomach full of cum and a head full of lust.

He isn't worried so much about failing his Master's command during the day. It is a distinct possibility but one that he can actively fight. Forcing himself to think about other things, or if that starts to become harder he would ask his Master to increase the pain level of the equipment. No, he is for more worried about failing his master in the night. When his dreams become more and more lucid and took on an ever increasing erotic nature. And it won't be the first time he has a wet dream. He hears footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Get cleaned up," his master commands.

Without question, Justin complies. He walks over to a small alcove where a thin metal rod protrudes out of a grille in the floor. He turns around, facing the room and sees Eric and his Master standing side by side. Behind them Michael and Rick stand in the presentation position. As Justin lowers himself over the rod, allowing the cold metal tube to slide into his asshole, his balls churn and pull back towards his belly. Even this is driving him closer and closer. He pushes the button on the side and tepid water shoots up his chute. He crouches in position. The water fills his bowels for several seconds, then automatically stops.

Worry sweeps over Justin, if his Master wants him to clean, he will be down here for more than just a quick, brutal punishment.

It isn't unusual for Frank to let his slaves stay the night down in the dungeon and whenever he does, it drives his slaves to the limit of their abilities. Justin knows his limits are rather closer than normal and he is afraid to fail again.

He flushes his insides several times until the water that comes out is clear, all the while trying to think about anything but the feeling of something sliding up his chute.

As he crouches down again and presses the button he watches his Master and Eric move towards a table on the side of the cellar. It is a sturdy wooden table, used to prepare equipment before using it on the slaves. Now, a black cloth covers many shapes and as Eric listens intently Frank shows him some of the things lying underneath. When Justin is done, he kneels down on the floor and waits until his Master directs his attention to him once again. Michael and Rick still stand waiting, apparently they are to be involved somehow, or are down for their own punishment or Master's pleasure.

"Get over to the cross Justin," Frank says.

Justin complies, of course. Without being told so he picks up the wrist and ankle bracers that lay ready and put them around his arms and legs. After that he turns around and waits.

It is Eric that comes to link him up to the X-cross, swiftly, as if with years of experience. When he pushes the button on the wall that lifts the cross up he takes his time looking at Justin.

Then he bends down and hooks Justin's ankles to the cross and takes a step back. With his arms outstretched above his head, his feet spread apart and his body stretched out, Justin cannot go anywhere.

His Master steps up and hands Eric a thin leather strap.

"You circle this one tight just underneath the cock head, then you circle it around his waist and tighten it until his cock is flat against his belly," his Master tells Eric.

Eric nods, his hand trembling slightly when he takes hold of the strap.

"Why is that?" he asks Frank.

"It's to keep his dick out of the way and the underside well exposed," Frank explains.

Master never explains his actions to his slaves, he isn't required to and his slaves don't expect him to. Obviously he doesn't view Eric as a slave. Maybe a potential master, of just an interested teenager.

Justin doesn't really like the sound of it. Whatever he is about to undergo will hurt.

Eric circles the leather strap around his cock, just underneath the head. On Frank's instruction he tightens it further, causing the first ache to start throbbing through Justin's body. He has no doubt he will soon be on fire and rightly so. He screwed up, again, and he needsto get his act together. He longs for the punishment, the pain that will allow him to show his Master that he serves him and wants to. If he cannot pass a test with an acceptable result, at least he can offer up his body. Eric binds the strap together, pulling Justin's cockhead up against his belly. The purple head pulses and swells wih the hindered blood flow.

Eric picks up the other one.

He makes a loop and shoves it over Justin's ballsack. He tightens the loop cutting of any escape back to his body and loops the lash thrice more. A small knot and then he roughly pulls Justin's balls forward. Justin's body follows his balls, causing him to stand out from the cross, putting additional stress on his arms and legs. He stifles a grunt.

With an approving eye his Master looks at Eric's handiwork.

"Well done," he comments. "The most important part is that they cannot escape through the loop when he pulls back. Now you attach it to this hook on the floor and make sure there is plenty of tension on the lash."

As Eric pulls the lash forward and ties it off, causing Justin's testicles to painfully stretch forward, his Master comes forward and puts a bit in his mouth. "Better bite down on this boy," he says, his voice stern but not unsympathetic. "You'll need it."

Once he is properly tied up Justin waits. He doesn't look forward to the pain but he is glad for the chande to make up for his mistake. He figures his Master would take the ball whip to his exposed sack, something is very painful.

He bites down hard but when he sees what his master brings to him, a shiver of fear runs down his body. A long, flexible cane swooshes through the air. Every part of Justin's body screams "no, don't!" but he keeps silent.

His master has never done that before and Justin, who knows the feeling of the cane on almost every body part, thinks there is good reason for that. And he is scared. "Justin, you got a C for a test, you know that's unacceptable. You're a bright, smart boy and I'm quite disappointed with this performance. Now, since I'm quite certain that your mind was not on the test but probably focussed on getting your balls off I've decided to teach you a pointed lesson.

"You'll be getting eight hits with the cane to your balls, that should help you remember that you need to perform at your best at all times."

Justin feels tears spring to his eyes. He isn't sure he can endure that. And the thought of failing is terrifying. But the thought of the eight hits is as well. He can accept a lot of pain, he craves it in fact, but this is going to be more than he can imagine himself accepting.

"Eric here, who I must say, is a good choice for a friend for you, is interested and I've offered him the chance to administer the punishment," Frank hands the cane over to Eric who, with an intense look in his eyes positions himself. "Alright Eric, go ahead when ready. Remember, only hits on the balls count."

Justin's heart heart beats furiously in his chest. Aiming the cane is trickier than it looks and his dick ais very exposed and very vulnerable.

"Make me proud Justin," Master says and steps away.

Eric swings the cane a few times through to the air, just to get a proper feel. In his crotch, the clear outline of his bulge shows his excitement. Excitement for caning his friend of a few days on his balls. He looks Justin in the eyes and smiles a supportive smile.

Then he lets go, he brings the cane back and foward in a fast, fluid motion. It cuts the air and with a sharp sound it lands above its mark, right on the underside of Justin's cock. The sharp, stinging pain flares up and Justin barely manages to hold his position. A low groan escapes his throat, muffled by the gag. He cannot keep this up, he will be jerking back soon enough and in the process pull painfully on his balls.

"Not quite Eric," Frank advises. "Keep looking at the point you want to hit, don't look at the cane. Also, make sure you stop the moving of your arm just before contact. You want the cane to make contact in the final sweep because of its flexibility. It doesn't matter that much in terms of experienced pain, but it does make a huge difference in the danger of breaking the skin."

Eric nods, appears to think about it for a few seconds and then aims again.

He is a quick study. Very quick. The cane slapps square on Justin's tied off balls. A deep, belly crunching ache flares up and rolls through his body. Justin lurches back, but the leash on his balls tenses further, forcing him forward again with more crushing pain on his balls.

Tears spring to his eyes and his legs quiver. Seven more, just seven more. He can do this. He has to do this.

Eric goes again and the cane hits Justin's testicles again. He tries not to, but he cannot keep his body from reacting and pulling back. The elastic band that connects his testicles to a hook in the floor extends but with a strong, powerful and very painful pull on his balls. A scream comes from his chest, for the most part stopped by the gag in his mouth.

Eric waits when Frank signals him to. Eric is learning a lot in a few days and he partly gets the connection Frank and Justin have. It is exhilarating to see Justin suffer, but it is equally exhilarating to see him try his very best to endure. His beautiful body trembles and works hard to get rid of the pain, tears stream down his face. With shaking legs he pushes his groin forward again, aided by the leash pulling hard on his cock and balls.

Eric wonders if the boy will ever just give up. The pain must be excruciating and still he seems to ask for more. On Frank's command Eric pulls the cane back aims and hits again. This time he misses and the cane draws a red mark across Justin's upper legs.

The next one is a proper hit. Justin somehow, tied off as he is, jumps backwards. But given the very little manoeuvring room he has, he is quickly forced back in position.

Eric swings again, the cane slamming into the underside of Justin's cock. To Eric's amazement his erection is still there, the hard rod pointing upwards and the smooth glands are a deep purple.

The next two hits with the cane are right on the mark.

After that hit, the fifth in the total of eight, Eric doesn't need Frank's signal to wait. Justin slumps forward in his bindings and sobs. Tears from his eyes stream down and his body glistens with sweat. He ignores the pulling on his balls, obviously the pain that emanates from the caning is far worse.

Seconds go by, becoming a whole minute as Justin is breathing raggedly in his bonds. Eric shoots a questioning look at Frank who just smiles and mouths ` patience'. They wait and sure enough, as time ticks on Justin stirrs once more. He straightens his body and with a groan he pushes his balls forward. His abs flex and Eric's own cock throbs in lust.

He opens his eyes and looks at Frank, his eyes are moist but they are otherwise clear.

Eric raises the cane, the soft sound it makes as it passes through the air is followed by a clear tensing of Justin's body.

`Should I go on?' Eric wonders. He has hit the boy's balls five times, hard. Merely thinking about it causes him to cringe in pain. Eric is convinced that he could cause permanent damage to Justin's testicles this way. But Frank won't let that happen, he loves his boys too much. And as he said earlier that evening, watching his slaves cum for him is a never ending pleasure.

He slashes again, the cane cutting through the air with its angry, hissing sound, stopping short – mere millimetres – before the pulled out sack. The cane bents forward hitting both balls perfectly.

Justin trashed in his bonds, screaming into the gag, his face a mask of pain. Eric lands another caning and waits until Justin has stabilized enough to land the eight and final hit.

Eric watches as the naked boy fights hard to get a grip on the pain. Frank puts a hand on his shoulder.

"You did well Eric," he says. "Justin will thank you for your effort later, but right now I need some time with him. Go get something to drink and I'll give you a heads up when we're done."

Eric nods, he feels like he could use a few minutes on his own. He needs time to think. He has enjoyed giving Justin pain. No, he loved it. Watching the handsome boy squirm under the onslaught, the tears on a face that showed only determination to serve. The power he had over Justin made him light headed. But it was more than that, because it was a power Justin had freely given to him. To Frank to be precise and Eric had operated under that power.

There was a whole lot to this relationship that Eric doesn't grasp yet and every time he hinks he has it figured out, he finds out he doesn't.

When Eric has left the dungeon, Frank acts swiftly. He unties Justin's balls from the floor. The boy sackes down in his bonds, pain throbbing in his body. Frank presses a cooling pack, wrapped tightly in soft cloth against his tortured genitals holding the boy close in his arms.

"You continue to make me proud Justin, you did very good," Frank tells the boy. "Now, I'm going to help you control your desires. I know you desire to cum but it's not going to happen any time soon."

The cold of the pack forces the pain away from his groin. Any swelling will be reduced and no permanent damage remains. With the cold Justin's erection subsides and after a few minutes his cock is limp again.

It is then that Frank motions to Michael to bring him the device that is waiting for Justin.

With his eyes still watery from the tears Jusin is still able to identify the object brought to him. It is a metal cock cage. A stainless steel cage tube with a sort-of handcuff that would lock it against his pelvis. He has worn it before, and that hadn't been too horrible. The most painful was when his dick wanted to get hard and the cage became painfully constricting. Of course, he hadn't been fucked over then the way he was now.

He wants to cum so much, he doesn't care how much more pain his Master will inflict upon him as long as he can shoot long ropes of thick, white cum at the end. But the cage will make sure he won't shoot for as long as it is on him.

Master Frank is quite adept at putting on the cage, but even in the few seconds it takes him to remove the cooling pack, lock the cuff tighly in place just before the gold cock ring and sliding the cage over Justin's beautiful shaft the boy's dick is hardening again. When the padlock clicks into place enough blood had been poured into the rod to cause the metal bars to push the flesh back painfully.

Frank steps back and relishes in the appearance of his prized slave. He knows he is putting the boy through a lot, but it is worth it. Not only in the long run, but also in moment like this. When he can feast on the magnificent display of male flesh, quivering in exhaustion and pain.

"I'll untie you now Justin," then I want you to assist with Michael's and Rick's punishment," Frank instructs as he detaches the ankle bonds, leaving the cuffs in place. Those will come in handy later.

"Yes Sir," Justin replies.

"Good, get yourself ready on the fuck bench," his Master orders.

Justin can almost cry, of course he is going to be fucked. He loves being fucked. But not with balls that are about to explode if they don't get release and a cage on his cock that might just cut open his dick if it gets too much blood in it. But mostly, he loves getting fucked, raped even, when he was able to cum.

He lowers himself on the cold leather of the fuck bench, his ass lifted in the air, his legs spread for easy access.

"Michael, get over the whipping bench," Master Frank orders.

"Yes Master," Michael says as he walks over.

The whipping bench is a tad more uncomfortable, made of hard wood and no padding. The hard edge that presses into your abdomen force you to maintain a proper position with your ass backwards and upwards. Of course, the fact that the whipping bench is used gives the boys some idea what is going to happen.

As Master Frank pickes up a large, leather razor strop he explains the punishment.

"Michael, Rick – you are aware of your need for discipline I trust?" after both boys agree Frank continues. "You'll each be given two sets of a hundred slaps with the razor strop for punishment. After a set you'll switch. When the other is being spanked you will fuck Justin."

All three slaves know something more will come, it is never so simple.

"If either of you cums while fucking Justin, another four sets of 25 are added, if both of you cum two sets of four are added, making it a total of a 400 hundred slaps."

"Afterwards, when we are done, whatever slaps remain, will be taken by Justin," Frank added.

Justin's heart sank, he would have to do his best to make his brothers cum or he could end up with 200 hits with the strap. He really can't handle that at the moment.

All three boys have been in Frank's service for a while and are have learned many of the rules and regulations that govern their life. Their Master can make a punishment clear with as much as a gesture and he can be cruel beyond their imaginations. So, Frank doesn't have to tell them to do their best.

Justin feels Rick position himself behind him, the cock head pressing against Justin's hole. Rick doesn't bother with lube and pushes his cock in.

A moan, filled with longing, escapes Justin's lips. He loves the feel of a cock up his ass and his cock, caged but demanding, responds. It grows and pushes against the painful borders of the cage, pushing the hot, throbbing flesh back. Rick settles in his rhythm quickly. His dick slides out, teasing at the entrance and swifly slamming back inside. It brushes past his prostrate and Justin's cock tries to grow to full size with abandon.

As Rick fucks him, causing equal amounts of pain and pleasure Justin starts to work his ass muscles. He grips Rick's cock and massages it. He arches his back to increase Rick's stimulation. Justin knows very well how to work his brothers and his determination to avoid any more punishment makes him more skilled.

Rick has been going at for about a minute when the first hit of the strap sounds against Michael's flesh.

Rick is breathing heavily. It's almost unfair. Rick finds Justin very attractive and the feeling of the boy's ass around his piston is under normal circumstances enough to make him cum in nearly seconds. But when the slave starts to play with his cock it's an uphill battle. It doesn't help that Justin's plight from earlier is still etched into his mind.

Rick doesn't consider slowing down his pace, or causing himself displeasure – his Master would know and his wrath terrible. Not only that, but it would not be honest. If Rick went down that road it would make his service to his master a lie. The best he can do is counting out the strokes that echo against the walls.

As he counts number forty the hits are accompanied by gasps and soft cries of Michael. His balls are starting to churn and jump up and down. Justin is making every effort to make him cum and when he counts out the sixtieth stroke he cannot help himself, he knows he won't last until the end.

He bends forward over Justin with his balls slamming against his ass cheeks, the blonde boy moaning and whimpering under the piston action of Rick's fucking. He forgets to count the strokes and as his cum shoots from his cock deep inside Justin's bowels he lets out a long, low groan.

Justin feels the seed of his fellow slave flow into his love chute. His dick is pushing hard against the metal cage, denying it full hardness and the joy is nearly eclipsed by the frustration of his denied desire.

Rick doesn't stop fucking him, his cock sliding past the now lubricated spincter. His orders were clear, he was to fuck Justin and cumming would involve further punishment, not a change in orders.