Whole Destruction Chapter 5 - Degradation
Themes include fisting, fucking, foreskin stretching, porn, inking and bondage. Average reading time 10 minutes.
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The next challenge arrived soon enough.
I wasn't in the best place when it landed. My hole was sore, my nipples obscene, my dick trapped. And yet somehow Max was unsullied and totally free to fuck, use and abuse my body. Where the hell did I stand with this guy? I had my doubts. Was I meant to feel those?
All that equipment we'd bought? Let's just say he was making the most of it. Earlier today (nighttime, morning, to be honest I've lost track) he'd stretched my nip rings through a ceiling pulley and applied some tit weights. If I dared complain he added on another weight. Then he did the same to my balls. Kind of like a parachute attached to my cock cage. They were pulled down to buggery.
Then he'd take me roughly from behind. Slammed his entire body - and that fat, fat, meaty cock into my hole - in one. No matter how big I'd gotten (and I knew it had with all the constant work) Max uncaged is so big that I always fucking feel it. Christ, does he know how to fuck!
Part of me loves that - he makes me beg for more - but with my balls swinging and my nips weighted this was real agony. Fucker would even set a timer in front of my eyes, saying we had to make it count. Said it was what I needed, what I deserved. Christ, where the hell did that come from?!
Only much, much later was I to understand how much he'd been nudged and coerced by the guards to fully use me. Just who was the bitch in this double cell?
Apparently, they threatened them with two actions.
The first was to pierce the end of his magnificent wang with a urethral plug and then permanently gluing it in place with his cage. It would mean his fuckslab was always kept from the world, unavailable to fuck. How could that possibly be allowed to happen?!
The other option was another act of penis mutilation. They'd force him to wear a heavy steel ball-bearing in his foreskin for hours at a time, sometimes whilst a cylinder suction pump stretched and distended his skin.
The downsides of the first option plainly clear. Permanently locked. The upside of the second obvious. Not least being able to dock cocks with anyone, no matter how sized. Including me.
That's how a a leather guard would come in and roll a giant metal ball bearing into the end of his prick each evening. His foreskin could easily accommodate it - to begin with - but there was no doubt it was slowly stretching him out.
I couldn't complain though. I got more to work with. His headcheese improved too. However, it must have been humiliating to have such a gorgeous cock tampered with.
That didn't change the current scenario though. With my nips now gigantic I was determined to reset the universe in my favour. It may have been petty, it may have been small-minded, but I needed revenge for what he was doing to me. Hey, no-one needed to say I was an adult. I was young, uncaring of the consequences of my actions.
This one was a tattoo challenge and they told us `this time' we were choosing for ourselves. Were we really though? After the nipple piercing I would happily bet they were setting us up for a fall again. I strongly suspected that whatever ink we selected would be swapped. I knew their modus operandi by now.
That's why I choose something so fucking sick and twisted. Even though I loved Max's smell and thick arms, I wanted to fuck him up as much as he'd fucked me up with my piercings. Right now? They still ached and probably would forever.
As I scrolled through the options on the iPad - the setup just the same as before, sitting opposite each other with the guards watching - it took me a while to find it. But when I did, I knew it was the one.
A monstrous hole tattoo. A solid ring of fire - black flames reaching out across the backside. A design that could never be hidden, always in sight. So big that it would peek out from every pair of jeans. And jocks? Christ. Max's cunt would look totally wrecked! How could you possibly live with such obscenity? It would mark you forever. Fuck it, his perfect body - unsullied by my nipple rings - needed to know what I was going through. He deserved it.
But that's when we swapped iPads and my heart was crushed.
We'd both had the same thought, that what we choose would end up on the other guy. Except he'd gone gentle and I'd gone extreme. He'd genuinely selected something that would look good on my body, not fucked up like my design for him.
He'd chosen a really rather beautiful fist emoji to nestle between my pecs. It elegantly skirted on the edge of respectability, a combination of geometric lines and subtle shading, somehow combining space, the universe and nature. Those stars you feel when being well and truly fisted? It combined them all.
And yet. What had I selected? Evil twisted cunt. Fucked up pussy. How on earth could I have possibly chosen this for him when he'd selected something so beautiful for me?
Oh, and that's when the worse happened.
This challenge wasn't a switch at all. We were down to get the tattoos we'd selected for ourselves! Fuck. Now I was going to be the one with the giant hole tattoo, my pussy permanent marked as belonging to an extreme player. This was a seriously massive design, I was fucking fucked! Why had I been so damn cruel?
Only one good thing came out of this. Even if it did take a while to heal, I look hot AF.
That worries me though. It is wrong to think that the guys have been even harder on my arse since it was done? The perfectly black ring of fire stretches out from my hole a good 6" inches in every direction. Across my butt, up my back, down my legs. It's the perfect fucking target.
Max seems to love it too, positioning a mirror at every opportunity so I can see his fists exploring my inked-up cunt every time we play. In the sling, on the bench. Yeah, okay, it looks pretty damn good. He fists me bared handed - his naked hands looking so good disappearing into my hole - or he wears thick black gloves that completely merge with the ink. So hot!
I am concerned though. All of this is changing me. Not just physically but mentally. I get the whole destruction concept, but I didn't understand the true affects. I no longer know who to trust except my own desires. Is Max scheming against me? Is he in it for himself? Or me? Sure, I know his hole is being played with too, but he always wants to use me at the end of each day. Isn't he getting enough? And why don't I get to first him? Does he really have my best interests in heart?
That's when something diabolical happened. By now I knew they were making us addicted to fist. The constant action, the sex stench in the hallways, the non-stop porn. Our minds were being fucked with and I was seriously beginning to take joy in all the hole wrecking. Getting constant pleasure from the hands pummelling my cunt and the machines stretching me out.
And then there was Max. I know I sometimes doubt, but he was always ready and waiting to use my pussy, no matter what he'd been through in the day. Or night. Anytime was fist time in our cell. If I didn't feel his hand up my butt every 12 hours or so I got testy. I needed the personal connection I had with him over the inhuman rubber drones or the impersonal leather clones that used us the rest of the time.
Don't get me wrong, I still took enjoyment from their punishing fists but looking into Max's eyes as he slid a giant paw into my hole made me swoon! We'd do it every time we were in the cell, changing up the gear we wore every time. Or returning to old favourites. It was bliss.
And then... it started drying up.
I swear the fuckers did it on purpose. Our training schedules changed. Max and I were no longer in the cell at the same times. It can only have been a deliberate decision, some kind of master plan? Now we had barely enough time to cuddle, kiss and man-grab. Soon we both got desperate. And needy.
That's when the guards told us we'd have 24 uninterrupted hours together. I could tell Max was as excited as I was - it had been so long! - but there was a catch.
We were both visibly excited but that's when those fuckers came in with their instruments of torture. We couldn't protest, we didn't have that kind of power.
One leather clone and one rubber drone proceeded to install steel clamshells on our hands. These were perfectly circular steel orbs that opened in half, surrounded our hands (fingers curled around a central bar to hook them in) and locked your wrist in a narrow metal sleeve that extended about four or five inches up the forearm. They were then closed shut and padlocked tight.
It was inescapable heavy metal bondage. The hands we so desperately needed to play with were now totally unavailable to us. I swear the guards laughed as they left, smirking about what a shame it would be if they lost the keys.
I looked at Max's hands - they'd been inside me so many times - but now they were metal balls at least 5 inches across. Even on my best day there was no way I possibly could take that! Way bigger than even the biggest butt plug I'd beeb forced to wear for hours at a time. It was simply too much. We tried to hug, to feel each other, we had both needed this so much. I simply couldn't be fisted by him.
But what if I could fist Max?
Even though my body was growing - I'd had a lot of enforced gym sessions to build my muscles - my hands obviously hadn't changed size. My fists were significantly smaller than his, which meant my steel balls were smaller too. In fact, maybe only 3" across. And Max's cunt had always been bigger than mine, maybe this was the moment that I finally got to play with him?
What the fuck, I can't believe I've just typed that.
We were so hungry for each other that he sat on our bed, splaying his legs, displaying his open gash and then let me push the heavy, cold steel ball of my right fist against his pussy. Thank god for there being an open container of lube next the bed, if the guards had known it was there I bet they'd have removed it. It was bad enough having to use my teeth to unzip his overalls.
I could feel him flinch as he felt the temperature difference of the steel against his cunt, the awkward shape, but did he really want this? It was so inhumane and wrong but he nodded, nudging me along.
I'll be honest, this isn't how I expected this moment. I wanted to feel his grip around my wrist, to touch his insides. I wanted to feel what I imagined he felt when he fisted me. Warm, welcoming, intense. And yet here I was being nothing more than a human dildo.
I almost pulled back, wanting nothing more to do with this sick act, but Max kept on pulling me forward. In fact, he pushed himself down on the steel ball that formed my hands. Fuck. You should have seen when it crested and his cunt swallowed the metal right up my sleeves!
He must have seen the shock in my face. How the hell had he just done that?! A 3" metal sphere was inside of him, his cunt held open by my steel wrists that weren't much smaller. Evidently I had something he wanted. His cunt being used. Who was I to deny him the favour?
I knew what I had to do. This was our first time and I wanted to be gentle, respectful, but...
He urged me on, telling me not to be afraid, that he could take whatever I doled out. I yanked my steel-encased jumbo fists back hard and I've regretted it forever.
That was the first time in my life I'd dealt with the meaty folds of a prolapse and it was quite a shock. A serious shock. Had I done this to him, had I wrecked him forever? What were his limits? I could see his ass pulsing, pulling. inviting me back in, but all I had were these fucking steel mitts. I wanted to feel him for real.
It was fucking crazy. Surely his hole would never be the same again. And yet he forced me to continue, pulling all the way out, re-lubing, and showing everything back inside. And repeat.
Holy fuck, what have I done?! I think he was getting off on how destroyed his hole was getting.
Maybe so was I? Would I ever be that screwed?
Next: Destruction
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