Organization: Illuminati Online
WARNING: What follows is an intense physical/psychological adventure, intended for serious students of sexual control, who are over 18 and emotionally stable. It is not for the squeamish. Enter at your own risk, and do not try this at home. Enjoy!
THE BOX
As I opened my eyes, my groggy brain tried desperately to remember how I got here.
Just seconds before, it seemed, I had been in the locker room, having been ordered to report there by my jocked masters. It was my sixth such session. The previous ones had turned into deliciously pleasant nightmares, as stud after stud had shoved his throbbing cock up my tight, but willing ass. It was with a combination of terror and lust that I looked forward to another session of mean, rough humiliation by the whole team. It was what I wanted, what I needed. It had become what I lived for.
On this occasion, however, two studs had quickly grabbed me from behind and shoved a moist cloth in my face. The cloth had a strange, chemical odor. I remember being ordered to inhale deeply, then blackness swept over me.
Now, even as I opened my eyes, the blackness remained. Receiving no clues from my sense of sight, I desperately checked my other senses for clues as to my surroundings. I could feel my limbs, but every attempt to move them was foiled by what must have been some kind of restraints. I knew I was in a sitting position. My hands felt like they were in some kind of glove, secured at the wrists. My legs were spread apart, and were also locked in position. I was sitting on something that felt like a toilet seat. I seemed to be nude, except my cock felt like it was covered by a condom and restrained by a codpiece or jock cup. I could barely move my head, because it was inside some kind of helmet. Something which felt like a mouthpiece from a scuba rig was fitted firmly in my mouth, and I could not move it. I could feel small tubes inside my nostrils, and at this point I became aware of a faint, but distinctive odor. It smelled like...like a sweaty armpit.
I panicked and began to struggle, to no avail. I tried shouting, but the mouthpiece and helmet muffled the sounds. Where the hell was I? What was happening to me? The thought briefly crossed my mind that I had been drugged, and that this was all an illusion. Except for a few LSD trips, I couldn't remember ever experiencing anything this bizarre.
My eyes strained to see something - anything. Nothing but blackness. Then, slowly, faint images began to appear before me. I couldn't tell whether I was seeing them through a lense or on a screen. They were like floating, close-up images of body parts of a well-built stud - as if I were inspecting his hard body just inches away from the skin, through a fog. I stared fearfully as erect nipples, then a washboard stomach, then armpits dripping sweat, then erect cock, then pulsating asshole appeared before me. Softly, faintly, strains of "I Need a Man" began playing in my ears. At this point, I was terrified. I really thought I was losing it. But as the images and the music increased in clarity, I realized my cock was fully erect, though somewhat restrained by the cup.
"Hello, slave," a voice began in my ears. "Glad to see you're awake. My buddies on the team have been working on this little invention for weeks now. We call it the box. As you have noticed, you have no control in the box. We control what you see, what you hear, what you smell and what you feel. We control the temperature, the humidity, the pressure, the air supply. We can put you to sleep, wake you up, create intense pleasure, or unbearable pain. After a few short training sessions, we will also control your mind. Of course you can resist, but that will only increase your conditioning time. No matter how long it takes, you will learn to love your sessions in the box. Like a good slave, you will learn to crave total surrender of your will to your masters. Your body is ours to manipulate; your mind is ours to control."
At the moment, my mind was racing with fear. I tried to ignore the voice, but there was nothing else to focus on, except the faint image of colorful, rotating clouds before my eyes. The image was soothing, and as the voice became a dull monotone, I found myself relaxing involuntarily. Since there was no hope of escape, I might as well enjoy the ride. Somehow, the idea of total surrender, total obedience seemed natural, even beautiful.
The voice was telling me how good it feels to relax, how easy it is to submit, how any thoughts of resistance are floating away. By this time, I was enjoying the experience - quite content to follow along without question. In response to the suggestions of the voice, I felt myself slipping deeper and deeper into relaxation, as if a powerful magnet were pulling me into the depths of a warm, pleasant void. To this day, I can't remember exactly what was said during the conditioning sessions that followed. The voice droned on and on as I willingly let go of my fear, my doubt, my mind. Passage of time seemed to slow, then became pointless. I was too relaxed to care.
I became so relaxed that I hardly noticed the temperature in the box was climbing rapidly. It wasn't until I realized that my air supply had been cut off, that my numbed brain snapped back into action. The sealed mouthpiece had suddenly stopped providing fresh air! Desperately, I fought to draw breath through my nose. The odor of sweat had been replaced by the distinctive aroma of amyl nitrite. An incredible warmth spread throughout my body, as the rush began. I felt something lubricating my asshole through the hole in the seat. In response to the amyl, my sphincter began to pulsate with need. As something resembling a dildo or butt plug was pressed against my ass, my sphincter quickly expanded and sucked it up inside the now-ravenous hole. I was sweating uncontrollably in what had become a sauna-like atmosphere. Now, the mouthpiece was metering short bursts of fresh air to my starving lungs, and the aroma of amyl was fading.
Images of sweaty feet began to float in front of my eyes, even as the smell of stinking sweat socks invaded my nostrils. I felt my sphincter contract involuntarily, sucking the huge dildo deeper into my ass. At about the same time, I felt a tingling sensation in my crotch. As excited as I was, it was obvious these sensations were being caused by something external. By the time I figured out that electric current was being applied to both my ass and crotch, the frequency and instensity of the current was being raised and lowered in rhythmic cycles. Soon, my whole body was tensing and relaxing with the current changes. What an amazing sensation! The bursts of power were now alternating between my sphincter and balls, creating a state of constant arousal, as my rock-hard cock first jumped against the cup, followed instantly by the dildo slamming into my prostate. I couldn't take much more of this without exploding into orgasm. Somehow, my masters must have realized this, because the current began to fade, and the relaxing suggestions began again.
I was no longer thinking of escape. In fact, I wanted and needed the stimulation to continue. I had never missed anything so much before. Alas, the electricity was gone, and the soothing voice was bringing my body back to the state of complete relaxation I had felt earlier.
Just as I thought I couldn't relax any more deeply, WHAM! The electricity hit my balls with what seemed like twice the intensity of before. My soft cock jumped to attention in less than a second, and the dildo started plunging deep into my ass. The fresh air in my mouthpiece was now mixed with another gas I recognized: nitrous oxide. My ears began to ring. Something rough was brushing lightly against my nipples, causing them to stand up and harden. My body was jumping around wildly in response to the bursts of voltage, jerking my hands and feet against the restraints. I screamed into the mouthpiece, "Please...don't...stop," - not really knowing whether I was pleading for more, or for an end.
I briefly wondered if this is what death row inmates experience during electrocution. Funny, it didn't feel like I was near death, though I couldn't decide whether the experience more closely resembled heaven or hell. The fine line between pain and pleasure had been permanently blurred in my marinated brain. The conditioning allowed only one acceptable response: pure ecstasy.
Images of close-up cum shots from a dozen porno movies began flashing before my eyes, as intense strains of industrial techno filled my ears.
I couldn't hold back any longer. I could feel my cock gushing what felt like a quart of cum. As the orgasm began, I felt some kind of suction down at my crotch, and the sound of a small motor humming. The mouthpiece was now blowing air into my lungs and, before long, began to spit what tasted like cum into my mouth. As I swallowed my own cum, I felt the current fade again, and the sounds of running water replaced the music. My hands began to feel warm, and I realized I needed to piss. Without thinking, I let the warm stream begin, realizing too late what would happen. I couldn't stop. Sure enough, the motor started humming again, and the mouthpiece sprayed the shower of piss into my mouth and down my throat.
This time, I welcomed the relaxing voice. I was totally spent, without an ounce of energy or a care in the world. I fell sound asleep in seconds.
When I awoke, I was on the ground outside the locker room. It was dark, and no one else was around. I tested the door. It was locked. I called out to anyone who might be nearby. No answer.
Had it all been a dream? A quick glance at my wrists confirmed that it had not. A ring of bruises was visible where my arms had savagely jerked against the restraints. Same around my ankles.
As I started walking home, I felt strangely complete and totally satisfied. My master's voice had been right. Even now, I desperately craved another session in The Box. It was all I could think about.