Finally it had stopped. His hole was throbbing with pain. And the pain also banged in his head. He was sure his hole was swollen and he thought he could feel the warm rivulets of blood running from his hole down over his balls and onto the wet grass.
He sobbed. And he sobbed again and again, uncontrollably. Not in a loud way. Quietly. In a pathetic way like a dog that had just been kicked viciously by his Master. The disappointment hurting more than the pain. As he sobbed his whole body shook against the ropes holding him bent double over the large trunk of the fallen oak. His hands bound together and pulled by the rope down under the trunk as far as they could go. The same rope that then came out under the other side of the trunk that was tied around his balls and cock. One rope holding him in place with only very limited room to move. His sobbing made the chaffing against his wrists and the base of his cock and balls worse. They were already rubbed raw and bleeding from the constant back and forth thrusting of his assailants. But he didn't care. He was past caring. Nothing mattered any more. He had no thoughts or concerns of his own. His master had promised him punishment. And punishment he received. Until there was nothing left of him. Until he was finally broken. He found it hard to focus on the ground in front of him through the tears. He also found it hard to remember everything that had happened, although he knew in general what had been done to him. He tried to remember how he had gotten into this position. It was hard to do because of the pain and his throbbing head. He knew he had fallen and then... then what? He remembered being dragged along the pavement behind his Master. Spending half his time on the ground literally being dragged and the other half stumbling on his feet. It was as if his Master was possessed. He didn't say anything to his slave but his slave knew that he was angry. Beyond angry. His whole hulk from the top of his shaven head to his polished 30 hole dms, gave off a menacing glare of absolute hatred. Something verging on murderous intent.
He was now very scared. He wished he had not shown up his Master in front of the bikers. What would his Master do to him? He tried to plead through the butt plug taped in his mouth. "Please Sir. I'm sorry Sir.....ummm...I didn't mean to do it.... Sorry, please don't punish me. .... I won't do it ....." It came out as an incomprehensible whine and his last words were choked in his throat as his Master tugged the chain with full force, throwing his slave through the air onto his knees on the floor.
His Master gave him no time to think as he simply carried on walking along pulling his slave behind him. His slave could only choose whether to allow himself to be pulled along the pavement or try to get on his feet and follow. He tried to get up rather than letting himself be dragged along. After a few failed attempts he managed. The knees of his bleachers were now torn and red with blood. He didn't feel the pain, just the strange sensation of something wet running down his shins into his boots. He now knew better than to beg. It would have no effect. He had to just face what was coming to him and hope he would come out the other side in some form or other.
They crossed the road and got to the wooded area of the heath which was located at the bottom of what appeared to be old mine workings of some sort. Of course this was Blackheath and in the old days they used to take the black peat from the heath to use as fuel. It was a very fitting name because for the slave this night and this heath was to be very black indeed.
They came to the edge of the old workings, to a very steep incline with a drop of about 10 feet down into the wooded area. Without any hesitation his Master pushed him over the edge. He tried to put his arms out to somehow slow his descent but they were firmly handcuffed behind his back. He had no choice but to fall and to keep falling. He hit the ground with a big thud and kept on rolling uncontrollably down and down and down. He glanced off a few trees on his way, rolling through the mud and gravel.
Suddenly he had stopped rolling. He choked on the butt plug which had been forced further back in his throat. He started to panic. He couldn't breathe. He tried to scream to make any noise at all. He struggled to free himself. But it was impossible. His mind was racing. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. His chest was heaving, his lungs now on fire trying desperately to get air. Air. He needed air. A fuzziness appeared around the edges of his vision. The fuzziness started to grow bigger and move further into the middle of his vision. Need air. His lungs were now so painful. But slowly the pain subsided as the fuzziness grew ever inwards until the whole of his vision was black.
As he came to, it took him a while to realise that the constant stream of wetness on the top of his head was his Master pissing on him. The stream stopped. And the piss cooled on his head and face. His whole body now hurt. He could see that his arms were completely scratched and covered in mud and leaves. He tried to move them but couldn't, but as he did he felt a pain around his cock and balls.
He worked out that he was bent over something and he felt the roughness of bark under his stomach. He must be naked on his torso therefore. His Master must have taken off his Fred Perry and jacket. His cock also felt the rough bark but not his legs which still had some jeans left on them. There was a very cold air on his hole where his master had used the knife to cut his jeans and show the whole world his slave's hole. But now he must also have cut away the front as well, exposing his slave's cock and balls.
He could breathe again and his mouth was no longer full of the dirty butt plug. He tried to focus on where he was but one of his eyes was very badly swollen from bumping into something from the fall. He could now see the huge fallen tree trunk he was tied over. He tried again to move his arms but only hurt his cock and balls further. They must be tied together by the same rope he guessed. So his master had also removed the cock and ball torture device he was previously wearing. The only other thing he could see was his Master's boots. They gleamed in the dark.
But then he saw some trainers next to his Master's boot. Some white Puma trainers and some blue trackie bottoms. Shit. There was somebody else here. Somebody else was seeing him tied over a tree trunk with his arse in the air, covered in mud and looking like shit. He thought about protesting but now he knew better. His Master and the trainer wearer were talking quietly but he couldn't make out what they were saying. Then the trainer wearer disappeared. Relief. Hopefully his Master had told him to fuck off.
He then heard rustling behind him. Was that somebody else? Or just the trainer wearer slinging his hook? He was really terrified. What was going on behind him? He had always thought that he could (probably) trust this Master not to kill him, at least. But now...now who was this and what were his intentions? His whole body shuddered in anticipation of something horrible about to happen.