Richard's balls were very nicely sized, large without being huge, but were now tightly held against his body by the ball sack, not hanging low as I like them. Perhaps he was a little cold from being naked, or perhaps it was the effect of his being afraid of what was going on. Whatever the reason, those balls really needed attention. A ball stretcher would need to be attached there before the day was out. But there was something else I wanted to do first. I enjoy chewing my slaves' balls, and the sooner they get used to it, the better. Richard, of course, would not be spared.
I sometimes hang my slaves upside down, and raise them up so that their balls are level with my mouth, to make the chewing more comfortable for me. But at this point I wanted to move things along as fast as I could, so I just squatted in front of Richard and began to suck on his balls, first one and then the other. His ball sack relaxed almost immediately, and I realized that it would not be difficult to turn those balls into real low hangers. But that would come later. Right now I just wanted to enjoy them. And Richard also seemed to be enjoying my treatment, for almost at once he was groaning loudly with pleasure. If only he knew what was to come shortly he would not be so relaxed. After a while of alternating between them I decided to take both balls in my mouth at the same time. I just had to suck a little harder and push a little on the outside ball with my fingers, and they were both in. Richard gave a little yelp of pain at this point, but I paid him no attention.
Richard's balls were really a very good size. They filled my mouth quite well, without being uncomfortable. I was by now a little tired from squatting, and so changed to a kneeling position. It is sometimes dangerous for a master to kneel in front of his slave, as it might give the slave the wrong ideas. But I was not the least bit worried, since what was to come next would let Richard know very clearly who was slave and who was master. So I started to chew on his balls. They had a very nice texture, neither too hard nor too soft, firm yet elastic. I pressed my tongue against the roof of my mouth, forcing the balls to the sides, so they would remain between my molars, and proceeded to have fun with them. Richard's precum was sliding down his hard shaft, and some of it was reaching my mouth, and it had a very nice taste, slightly salty. There was still just a hint of the cognac I had used on him as an after shave earlier that day. I was also enjoying the heady smell of his crotch. After a while I closed my eyes, and concentrated on the feeling of the balls between my molars, almost forgetting they had an owner. I chewed on them fast, and I chewed on them slow, I chewed on them lightly and I chewed on them hard, and I kept on chewing. Somewhere in the background I was occasionally conscious of Richard, sometimes groaning with pleasure, sometimes screaming with pain, but I was not really paying any attention to him. To steady myself I reached around and grabbed hard onto his buttocks, which seemed to be trembling, but my mind had no place for anything but the feel of those balls in my mouth, yielding firmly to the squeeze of my molars, springing back again when I relaxed my jaws. I was having so much fun!
This went on for quite a while, but all good things must come to an end. Eventually I got tired of my kneeling position, and decided to go on to something else. So I moved my tongue away, so that the balls could return to the center of my mouth, and kept my teeth close enough together so that only the skin of Richard's ball sack could fit between them. I then started to pull on the balls by moving my head away from Richard, pushing with my hands against his thighs, while at the same time I used my tongue to press the balls as hard as I could against the back of my teeth. This is something I had enjoyed many times with my slaves. It scares the shit out of them, as it stretches their ball sack until they think it will tear, and at the same time puts a lot of very painful pressure on their balls. Richard started screaming almost from the beginning, when the ball sack had stretched only about half of what I knew it was capable of stretching, but I kept on pulling as he kept on screaming. I had known from the beginning that Richard was a natural for low hanging balls. His sack stretched out almost three inches from the base of his prick, and this was only the first time he had gotten the treatment. I kept him there for a good while, enjoying his screams, before going on to the ultimate step. I opened my jaws just a tiny bit more, pulled even harder, and pushed still harder with my tongue against his balls. As I had known they must, the balls began to ooze out slowly and painfully through the very narrow gap between my teeth, popping out quickly at the end.
I stood up and stretched myself lazily. It had been a good chew, and I felt really good even though my legs were slightly cramped from the kneeling. Richard did not seem to be feeling so well, however. He was not screaming any more, and indeed seemed to be having trouble breathing, as his breaths were very ragged and shallow. At one point his head fell backwards, and it seemed he might have fainted. I always keep a large bucket of cold water handy for such occasions, and poured it slowly over Richard. He came to immediately with a loud gasp. I then checked his balls with my hands. They seemed to be slightly swollen, as was to be expected, but were hanging nicely low, much better then when I had started working with them. There could be no doubt about it: we were moving along, Richard and I.
I realized that the ropes holding Richard's arms and legs were still quite tight, and I did not want to harm his joints, so I loosened all four a bit. He could now bring his feet slightly closer together, and bend his elbows and his knees a bit. At first he seemed somewhat confused, and looked around the dungeon, as if he was not quite sure what had happened to him. But it took only my hand on his cock and a few very short and very slow strokes before he collected himself, smiled at me, and started purring again. He had softened just a tiny bit, but I made no comment, and after a few seconds he was again hard as steel. The puddle of precum between his feet was growing larger. I knew he was already mine, and he would also know it very soon.
The clips on Richard's foreskin had now been on for quite a while, and I was sure the whole area had to be numb, so it was time to take them off. His face mask was off, so when he saw me coming with paper towels in my hand he knew what was going to happen. This time I was very gentle, as the episode on his balls had been sufficiently intense. First I dried the handles of the clips, trying to jiggle them as little as possible, and then dried off the base of his cock carefully, so I could hold onto it firmly. I then grabbed his cock with my left hand, and with the right carefully took off the three clips in quick succession. I then started to long stroke him, slowly but firmly, making sure the foreskin went all the way back and forth on each stroke, fully covering and uncovering the cockhead each time. At first Richard gave a sharp gasp each time I pulled the skin back and stretched the foreskin taut as it uncovered the head, and I knew he was trying hard not to scream. He was of course in great pain, and the stroking was making it worse. For the next several minutes his eyes were tightly shut and his jaw was tightly clenched, and he was again pulling against the ropes holding him. But he did not scream, and after a while the pain eased considerably and he began to relax. When he eventually opened his eyes he smiled at me, and I smiled back. He was slowly but surely learning the great erotic pleasure of pain.
An ample dose of pure pleasure must now follow all the pain Richarad had endured. I loosened the ropes on his arms even more, so he could bring his hands to the level of his face and ease the stress on his shoulders. I then went behind him, and massaged his back with the same cream I had used before, from his neck all the way down to his buttocks, giving a lot of attention to his shoulders and arms, and every so often reaching around and pinching his nipples, though never once touching his cock. He was ohhhing and ahhhing with pleasure the whole time. I also alternated the massage by grinding my chest against his back, and my cock against his buttocks. My plans did not call for my fucking his ass just yet, but I also rubbed my cock along his crack, lubricating it with my precum, and Richard gave every indication that he was enjoing all of it. This must have gone on for over 15 minutes.
Richard's crack was now really wet with my precum, and I could not resist the temptation of testing his hole with my fingers. So I stuck the middle finger of my right hand inside my own foreskin, wetting it well with my precum, reached around with my left hand and grabbed Richrad's right nipple to steady myself, and slowly rubbed my finger along his crack, avidly searching for his hole. I soon found his pucker, and though it was clear he was purposely relaxing his sphincter to let me in, it was still a very snug fit. It seemed I had found myself another virgin ass. It would be great, taking my time with his cherry. I had almost a full week ahead of me to do it.
I pushed my finger in slowly, searching for his prostate, so I could give it a nice rub. Instead I soon detected the hard and knobby presence of a huge turd. I could not believe Richard had been such an inconsiderate idiot. He had not cleaned himself out before entering my dungeon. This would require a big change in my plans. Such behavior merited swift and harsh punishment.
I came to suddenly. All I felt was the cold. I was shivering violently. At first I was not even sure of where I was. I noticed to my amazement that I was naked and tightly tied, wet from head to toes, my arms and legs stretched out by ropes. I looked around, now feeling both the cold and the pain, and finally realized I was still in Will's dungeon. I was trembling intensely, I guess both because of the pain in my balls and because of the cold water that had been poured over me. I was scared, but strangely enough the sense of fear was at the same time very exciting. I could not make much sense of my own reactions, but decided to trust Will and follow along with whatever he decided. As if I had any choice anyway!
The next thing I noticed was, my arms and legs were no longer stretched out so tightly. The relief was wonderful, specially to my shoulders. I could now let my full weight rest on my feet, relax my arms, and bend my elbows a bit. I looked around some more, and was reassured to see Will was still there. His smile was all I needed to feel secure again. His magnificent cock was hard, and I had a hard time taking my eyes off him. It was long and thick, pointing about 45 degrees above the horizontal, the thick blue veins like ropes, standing out against the pale pink of the skin, the base sorrounded by a dense patch of light blond hair. Will approached me slowly, then grabbed my cock and stroked me very gently, moving the skin back and forth only a fraction of an inch, very slowly. I was in heaven again. As I looked down I realized to my surprise the three alligator clips were still biting my foreskin, but they did not hurt at all any more. I guess the area had become numb from lack of blood flow. But Will's hand on my cock felt wonderful, and when he let go of me after a while I felt my nakedness again.
I followed Will with my eyes as he went to a table by one of the walls of the dungeon, and when he returned with paper towels in his hands I knew at once what was coming. I had been pouring precum down my shaft all the time, and the clips were covered with it. Will dried them tenderly with the paper towels. I could not feel a thing because of the numbness, but knew from the experience of the clips on the base of my shaft that once they were taken off the pain would be awful. Will then dried my shaft, and grabbed onto it firmly with one hand. This I could feel, and the warmth of his hand on my cock felt very reassuring. I looked at his cock again, and could not help but admire its size and its beauty. I was still busy looking at his prick when I realized that he had taken the three clips off from mine. I had not felt a thing, but prepared myself for what was to come.
Will then grabbed my cock again and started to stroke it once more. He was still doing it very slowly, but certainly not a fraction of an inch any more. On the contrary, he was moving the skin back and forth as far as it would go each time, first pulling hard toward the base, exposing the cock head fully until everything was stretched tight, and then moving his hand forward until the skin covered the head completely and gathered in a pucker at the point of the cock. By the second time he did this the feeling started to return to my foreskin, and by the third time it felt as if red hot coals were being applied to it.
I was in agony. It was even worse because the ropes on my arms were no longer tight. Before, fighting against the very tight ropes had helped a little as a distraction from the pain, but now that they were a bit looser pulling against them did not have the same effect. I seriously considered using my slow word. The pain in my foreskin would surely ease if Will would stop pulling it back and forth this way. But then decided I would hold on. I could not bear the thought of Will thinking I was a wimp, that I could not take whatever he thought fit to do with me. Even so, I could no longer look at what was going on. When Will pulled my skin back I could see the awful marks the teeth on the clips had left all over the tortured area, and seeing them made the pain worse. So I just closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on the feeling of Will's hand on my shaft, and move the center of my attention away from my agonized foreskin. That helped a little, and after a long while the pain started to subside. Will still continued his very slow stroking, and I finally opened my eyes. I was pouring precum again, and Will's hand was covered with it. We smiled at each other. In spite of all that had happened, I felt I was completely safe with him, that I could yield to his every whim without any risk to myself, that anything he did to me would eventually bring me great pleasure. I realized, to my own surprise, that being totally subject to him could actually make me feel very high.
The next thing Will did, he loosened the ropes on my arms even more. Now I could even scratch my nose with either hand, and by stretching my arms up I could bend my knees quite a bit. Moving my hands down made my shoulders hurt some, but it was nothing I could not handle, and at the same time it actually felt good to do so. I was actually looking forward to whatever Will might want do next, but would never had guessed how wonderful it was going to be. He gave me absolutely the best back massage ever. He was using a cream, and from the smell I could tell it was the same one he had used before. He started on my neck and shoulders, and then worked all the way down to my buttocks, and then up and down again. It was really wonderful. Strangely enough, I actually missed having the ropes on my arms pulled a little bit tighter. I could no longer lean on them, as I had before, and being stretched taut had in a way given me some sense of security. But I sure as hell was not going to complain to Will for the wonderful massage I was getting. So I reached up as high as I could and grabbed the ropes with my hands, and let myself enjoy the feel of Will's hands on me. He concentrated on my sore shoulders, without neglecting anything else from my neck to my buttocks, and I could feel all the tension in my muscles melting away under the pressure of his strong fingers. He also pinched my nipples quite often, which was extremely exciting. Every so often he would also press the whole front of his body against my back, and when he did this I could feel his big, fat, hard cock rubbing up and down along my crack, though making no effort to penetrate me. It was enough to drive me crazy with lust.
The one thing I most wanted, though, was what I was not getting. My cock was begging for attention, but was not getting any. I really wanted the feel of Will's hand on my prick, but knew that he had to have a good reason for doing what he was doing the way he was doing it, and I was not going to risk getting him angry by asking him to do it some other way just to satisfy my own selfish pleasure.
I lost all sense of time, and the massage had probably gone on for about an hour, when I felt Will's finger moving along my crack, searching for my asshole. It was a finger, no doubt, as it was much thinner than his fat prick, and it glided up and down between my buttocks, obviously searching for an opening. Nobody had ever touched my hole before, much less put anything inside it, but at this point there was nothing I could withhold from Will, so I made a big effort to relax so he would have an easy entry. In no time at all he found the right spot, and his finger slipped in fairly easily. It had gone in only a little bit when to my surprise he pulled it out quickly, reached around, and pushed it up against my nostrils. I knew at once I was in very deep trouble, as I recognized the unmistakable smell of my own shit. When I was getting ready this morning I was so sure that I would win the chess competition, I had neglected to clean out my poop chute. Will said nothing, just let me smell his finger for a few seconds, and then quickly moved away. I was scared again, as I was sure I was going to be punished.
The next thing I knew, Will was putting the face mask back on me, and I was again in total darkness. Soon after I could feel the ropes on my ankles pulling out sideways, and my legs began to stretch out. Will was doing this quite slowly, but I certainly could feel my feet moving away from each other, sliding along the floor inch by inch, slipping along without any difficulty thanks to the soles being wet from the huge puddle of my own precum on which I had been standing. After a little while my thigh joints began to hurt, but yet the ropes kept pulling relentlessly on, still moving my feet further and further apart from each other. The pain was by now sharper, and I told Will that I was really so very sorry I was not clean for him, that I considered myself a good chess player and had not anticipated he would win the match and I would be the first to play slave, and to please, please stop. His only reply was that he was punishing me for an unforgivable fault, and that since it was punishment I should not waste my time with any safe words, since according to the rules they would not apply while the punishment lasted.
I was now more scared than ever. The tone on Will's voice made it obvious that he was really very angry, and I did not know how far his righteous anger would take him. I was by now screaming from the pain in my thigh joints, but after a while I noticed that my feet were no longer moving. My legs were stretched far apart from each other, with my balls (still sore) hanging helplessly between them. Will then pulled up the ropes on my wrists, not enough to make them really tight, but just so that I could lean on them. I took a deep breath, and though I was still very scared, that helped me to stop the screaming.
As my face mask was still on I could not tell for sure what Will was doing at this point, but I could hear him loudly opening and closing drawers on the big antique chest I had notice earlier. There was total silence for quite a while, which made me more nervous than anything. Then Will struck. AAAAHHHHHH! I heard the swish of the whip before I felt its pain, but this was worse than anything that had come before. Will was whipping the very tender insides of my thighs, and he was being merciless about it. I could feel him grunting like a tennis player each time he struck, and it was obvious he was hitting as hard as he could, letting his anger drive him on. He would hit one leg several times in a row, and then move on to the other one and do the same there. I got the impression that some times he was standing in front of me and sometimes in back, covering the inside of both legs thoroughly from top to bottom. This went on and on. I thought nothing could be worse than what I was getting, when suddenly I felt the whip hit my balls again and again, and this was certainly worse. It was of course easy for Will to hit them, since my cock was pointing straight up and was completely out of the way, the balls an obvious target as they hung unprotected, low between my legs. The pain at this point was so bad I thought I was going to vomit. Apparently Will was swinging his arm from the bottom up, and the whip was thus hitting the under and backside of my balls with quite a wallop. The whip would wrap around them, and very often the tips would hit the extremely sensitive skin between my legs, just in front of my asshole. My balls, of course, were still very tender from the chewing they had gotten shortly before, and each time the whip hit them it felt like the strike from a bolt of lightning. This went on and on, and except for the screaming there was nothing I could do about it.
I was very lucky that after a while Will apparently got tired from the exertion. He was now breathing heavily, and was no longer whipping me. I heard him panting, and could actually smell the strong masculine smell of his sweat, which I found strangely exciting. And then, even though he had no shoes on, I could hear him walk slowly away. After that there was absolute silence. I did not know if my punishment was over or not. And I then discovered, to my terror, that if pain is bad, then not knowing when or where great pain will strike again can be even worse.
Before punishing Richard I had to let him know the reason for the punishment. Punishment is more effective when the slave know the reason for it, and so knows what behavior he should avoid in the future. So I pushed my finger hard against his notrils, and let him smell his own shit. Richard was smart, and he could figure the rest out by himself. Then I put the face mask back on him. Except in very special circumstances a slave should not be able to see what is going on while he is being punished. This accentuates his feeling of helplessness, the feeling that he has no power whatsoever over his own destiny, and that his master has total control over whatever happens to him. I then went to the portable control panel and very slowly tightened the ropes that pulled his ankles out sideways. He knew at once what was going on, and tried to justify his gross behavior by claiming he had thought he would win the chess match. Such insolence only made me angrier. I told him to save his breath, and reminded him that safe words would not apply during a punishment session. He screamed as was his custom, but I only made the ankle ropes tighter. But when his screams became quite shrill I stopped, as I did not want to cause any pemanent damage to his hip joints. After all, a slave such as Richard is a very valuable possession, and I wanted to continue to take my pleasure with him for years to come. You do not want to cause any lasting harm to a treasure such as him. And anyway his legs were now quite sufficiently far apart. I then tightened the ropes on his wrists a little, but only enough to give him some stability in what was to come.
After I had Richard ready I went to find the medium length cat-o-nine tails which I had decided would be most appropiate for the punishment I had in mind. It was not on the wall rack where it should have been, but I finally found it in the large chest of drawers. I took my time walking back to where Richard was patiently waiting. It would have been more comfortable for me if he had been standing on a platform, about a foot and a half higher than where he was. But again I did not want to waste any time, and decided to make the best of what I had before me. Richard's legs were well spread out, and the tender inside of his thighs were at my mercy. I stood behind him and just a little to his left with the whip in my right arm, took careful aim at his left thigh, and let loose with ten very hard swings, with very little pause between swings. Although I am normally right handed I have carefully developed a very effective left handed whip swing, and was thus able to immediately repeat the performance on his other thigh. Almost at once Richard rewarded me with the sweet music of his screams. I then repeated the process, but now working from in front of him, this time covering not just the thighs, but the whole inside of his legs, as far down as his ankles.
The cat was working beautifully, and soon the inside of Richard's legs were covered with a lovely pattern of criss crossing angry red welts. As every other instrument, the cat has its advantages and its disadvantages. Each swing counts for nine, which is good. But the strength of each swing is also distributed among nine tails, so you must really put a lot of effort on each swing if it is going to be effective. After about thirty hard swings of the middle length cat with each arm, with no rest in between, I was beginning to feel just a little bit winded. Luckily I had also grabbed the short length cat, which was just perfect for Richard's balls. So, again without any pause, I changed whips and began to work those balls with an underarm swing. Perhaps a softball pitcher might have done it better, but Richard did not seem to feel he was being neglected. I swung the whip hard and fast, and he screamed even harder, the pitch rising higher and higher so that he sounded almost like a girl, something which I enjoy so much. I showed no mercy, and continued to swing as hard as I could. Even though his balls were hanging fairly low when I started, the tails of the short length cat were long enough that they wrapped around the balls most of the time, and their tips often hit the skin between Richard's legs, just in front of his asshole. His reaction was exquisite. He wanted to scream each time the whip struck, but it was striking so fast that he did not really have time to fill his lungs each time, and often he was screaming as he was inhaling. The rasping sound he made, though not as loud as it otherwise might have been, was wonderful to hear. But all good things must come to an end, and I finally decided to stop. In a sense I had run out of steam, and was no longer quite as angry at Richard.
I then silently inspected the results of my efforts, and they were beautiful. Richard's legs were a mess, his balls were visibly swollen, and his ball sack was now full of welts, many of them already turning blue. I went behind him and bent down to look between his legs, and the area behind the ball sack was also full of the most lovely welts. Richard's punishment was far from over, but I wanted a little rest, and it would do Richard good to have a moment to think, not only about what he had just gotten, but about what he might still be waiting to get. I told him his punishment was not yet over, and then without saying anything else I very quietly walked away in my bare feet, walked up the basement stairs, left the door to the dungeon open, went over to my kitchen, and sat down to rest a little, while slowly enjoying a large glass of ice cold lemonade. The first part of Richard's punishment had been administered in anger. The next part would be administered cooly, and I wanted time to plan for that.
[To be continued. Send comments to rob8mann@hotmail.com .]