Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Will
I went slow at first, feeling every muscle in his throat squeeze around me on the way down until my balls pressed against his chin. And yeah, I was a tad disappointed at the lack of a gag reflex, but no way would I tell him. Clearly, the boy was used to taking a cock down his throat, so I fucked his face in earnest, hard and fast, and left it up to him to figure out how to get enough oxygen to keep from passing out. I pulled out enough every couple of strokes so he should be able to manage it, but I also spent a lot of time buried in the depths of his throat.
And when I came, I did so while I was balls-deep. I assumed he’d swallow when I came in his mouth, but no sense testing him just yet — not when he was clearly used to being face-fucked with gusto.
When I finally stumbled away from him and leaned against the wooden pony, I took stock of my boy. Tears raining down his face, his eyes red, his lips a little swollen. He sat back on his heels and gasped in air, but his cock was rock hard and standing proud, so the whole face-fucking thing clearly worked for him.
Which led to where I wanted to go with him next. I’d planned for some CBT, but things were going so well, I really wanted to fist my new plaything.
However, I hadn’t fucked his ass yet, and fisting should come after the fucking.
So, a little CBT while I recovered, then I’d fuck his ass, and then the fisting.
I looked around the room, deciding. He’d seemed a little wary of the jail cell, so that would work.
I released his hands from behind his back. “Into the cell, Davy, and close the door behind you. Let’s see how well you can follow orders.”
I expected some hesitation, but he stood without much grace at all, walked across the room and through the open door, and closed it without a second’s pause.
“Good boy. Excellent.” I leisurely made my way to the outside of the cell. “Walk to me, sweet boy, and grab the bars over your head.”
It took about a minute to connect his wrist cuffs so his hands were held far over his head, putting him on tiptoe, and then another ten seconds to connect his ankle cuffs to the bars so he couldn’t spread his legs or back away from the bars.
I took my time wrapping rope around his balls and tying it off to the bars so his dick and balls stuck past the bars and his hips weren’t moving anywhere.
“All trussed up like a Christmas turkey, yes? Or do you do Christmas ham and Thanksgiving turkey?” I flicked his dick and watched it jump, and then went to grab my stool so I could sit and have my fun. I put some clothespins and other clamps on the roll-around, along with a penis plug, a small rubber flogger, a Wartenberg wheel, and my cupping kit. No needles today — one needs something to work up to.
“As I said before, your dick is almost always going to be without touch of any kind while I’m fucking you. Orgasms are only allowed by permission in this house, and if you become mine, only by permission at all times. If you need to come, beg . Do you understand the difference between asking and begging, little Davy?”
“I believe so, Sir.”
“I guess we’ll see, if and when you believe you’re close.”
If Davy and whatever woman I brought in for our third wanted a sexual relationship, and if she was interested in fucking him or getting him off, that would be between the two of them when I wasn’t around. However, that was a conversation for a different day, because for now, at least, his dick would be without contact of any kind the majority of the time my boy was fucked.
I was cruel to his cock for about fifteen minutes, and it stayed hard the entire time. Finally, I put the penis plug in, and it was clear this wasn’t a new experience.
“Not the first plug you’ve had in your dick, is it?”
“Kind of, Sir? My first master used a thing that went into my dick that was part of the cock cage, to make sure I couldn’t get it off. Not really a plug, more of a hollow tube, but I’m used to having something in my dick, Sir.”
“But not when it was hard, right?”
“No, Sir.”
“But you’re keeping your hard-on with it in. Let’s see if that remains the case.”
I fondled his balls and then cupped them in their bondage to show him what came next, and he groaned deep in his chest but didn’t beg me not to hurt his balls.
The boy was well-trained, which I appreciated. Some people enjoy the process of training slaves, but I much prefer them to know the basics so I only have to teach them my personal preferences.
“It isn’t my intention to make you puke today,” I told him. “Usually, intense ball torture will happen on an empty stomach. If you’re nauseated to the point you’re in danger of puking, I expect you to let me know with a yellow . I’ll check in with you if you say it, so if there’s another reason to say it, that’s fine, too. A red means I release your bondage and check back in with you in an hour to see where we are. You know the word to use if you want to leave my home as soon as you can get dressed, and then never come back.”
“I do, Sir. Thank you for being clear.” His voice was strained because the bondage was a lot before I even began torturing him, and he knew it was about to get a whole helluva lot worse.
I want my play-toys to use a safeword if they are truly in dire pain, but I don’t want them using it willy-nilly for just a great big OUCH. I find that my way makes them use their safewords more judiciously. Everything stops for a red , and then there’s some time to think before the action starts again. If they immediately tell me a problem that makes sense, we can sometimes forego the hour, but that’s extremely rare because I’m quite careful not to do anything that can injure them.
I wasn’t too rough on his balls, but he still had a really hard time with it — though his dick stayed mostly hard throughout. I ended the CBT session with the rubber flogger, going at his dick and balls with it until he was frantic from the pain, and then I caressed the little welts and told him, “Your dick is hard as a rock, boy. Be honest. Did you truly hate it? Or was there some enjoyment in there?”
“The first, Sir. I don’t get any good pain, any enjoyment, from having my balls tortured.” He sighed. “I can’t explain my dick. Sometimes it gets hard when I hate stuff, sometimes it goes soft. I think the power exchange keeps it hard, and the fact I could tell how much you enjoyed hurting me, Sir.”
I’d heard that from s-types before, that if they knew something turned me on, it turned them on for me to do it even when it was something they hated. Only the hard-core s-types usually feel that way, so this was one more point in little Davy’s favor.
I couldn’t believe I’d called him sweetheart earlier, but it came out again while I unwrapped the rope from around his balls and his gasps of pain came one after another. “I know, sweetheart. Sometimes the process of freeing them hurts worse than having them bound, but it’ll get better once the ropes are off.”
I’d put clamps on his nipples about ten minutes earlier, and I reached up and pulled them off rather than opening them and removing them properly, and Davy jumped and yelped as much as he could manage.
“Thank me for waiting until your balls were free to do that.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
He said it like he meant it, and I couldn’t help my smile. “You’re welcome, sweet boy.”
I released his ankle cuffs next, but then unlocked the door and went into the cage to release his hands, so I could support him until he got his balance.
During punishment, I’m not opposed to releasing them and watching them struggle to stand, or even fall, but that has no place during playtime.
And now it was finally time to fuck my new boy.
Damn, he wasn’t mine yet — not for more than the night. I needed to watch my inner thoughts because they kept coming out and becoming vocal. I’d called him my sweet boy earlier, and that didn’t need to happen on our first night together.
I turned him towards me and met his gaze a few seconds, and was once again struck by his pale-blue eyes. There was a slightly darker ring surrounding them, but his eyes were so pale they seemed a little otherworldly, like maybe they’d glow in the dark or something. I cupped his cheek and told him, “I’m pleased, little Davy.”
I walked him to the fucking station, stood him before it, and connected his ankle cuffs to it so his feet were as wide apart as his flexibility allowed. If he became mine, there’d be some stretching in his future because I wanted his legs wider apart, but I didn’t want to make him feel bad about his abilities so I didn’t mention it.
I gave his ass a gentle pat. “Good boy. Lean over, weight on your chest.”
He leaned over with his chest on the support cushion, and I lowered it until he was angled down slightly, but not too much. I usually connect the wrist cuffs out in front of the fuckee, so it lengthens their spine, but I wanted to hold Davy’s arms and use them for leverage, today. More contact and a rougher fuck, since I had a feeling that was what my new boy needed.
I used a six-inch-wide band to secure Davy to the chest cushion and then had my boy grab his elbows behind his back. Two more bands, three-inch ones this time, to secure each wrist to the other forearm, and that left all the room between for me to grab and be skin-on-skin.
“Relax and let me get the plug started on the way out, and then you can push and help.”
Most boys start pushing right away, but I don’t like to give them that much power over what is happening. I want them to relax and let me do it at first, before I order them to help.