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Message-ID: <36180asstr$1019297403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Edward Hyde" <edward_hyde@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} "Life in Hell," mm, nc, bdsm, tort, forced pleasure
Date: Sat, 20 Apr 2002 06:10:03 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

"Life in Hell"

by Edward Hyde


Story Codes:  MM, nc, bdsm, tort, forced pleasure.

This story is copyright 2002, by Edward Hyde. It should not be read by any 
person who cannot legally read sexually explicit stories. I make it freely 
available to any web site that does not requirement payment to read stories, 
as long as I am notified and proper attribution is given.

Newsgroup writers write for feedback, not money. Please send comments, 
praise, criticism to edward_hyde@hotmail.com. I promise to respond.

----------------


"Life in Hell"


You can't know what they can do to you, do with you, until they have you.

Master Jack told me that anyone can be broken, even he could be, but the 
real man is the one who knows about this and can use it against others for 
his own benefit. The others are made to be used. He told me he took great 
pride in breaking me and using me.

He was stroking my penis and balls while he told me this, making me hard and 
desirous so I would love what he told me.

-------------

Usually they make sure you have no pleasure. Your penis is caged in a metal 
mesh sleeve that wouldn't let you get hard even if your weren't continuously 
tormented. Urine will flow through the end, and they rinse you off every 
day, but you might as well have been amputated, so useless is it for sex. 
They don't pay much other attention to it. You are a slave and aren't to 
have pleasure. Your purpose is to give pleasure to the Masters.

The part of your sex they pay attention to is your testicles. Oh your balls 
get great attention. They use metal bands to make them stand freely from 
your body, not only to be out where they can be handled but to stretch them 
ever further from your groin. They ache. They always ache, so you're always 
reminded of your place, and they are easily accessible to the Masters, who 
use them to control you. More than anything else they like hurting your 
balls.

I've counted what they do. They squeeze them and twist them. They stretch 
them out. They hit them with batons. They hang heavy weights from them and 
make you stand that way for hours or days. They compress them slowly in a 
vice. They use syringes to fill your scrotum with burning fluids so that you 
cry and thrash for hours, unable to reduce the pain, or sleep, or rest, 
crying and moving with your gonads swinging like apples in front of your 
thighs. I've seen them push needles directly into the testes.

Mostly though, the thing they like best is to use electricity. They belt the 
two balls tightly together and have a contact on each side, so that the 
current flows all the way through both. They turn on the current not quite 
high enough to let you pass out, then they leave you to suffer while they do 
other things. Because you can't help crying and thrashing they always know 
you're conscious. If you become quiet they turn everything off and bring you 
around. Then they begin again.

"Master Jack, please, please, oh God please! I'll be so good for you! Please 
stop it. I'll do everything you want. I won't cause trouble. Please Master 
Jack, please!"

"I know you will my sweet bitch. I know you'll be a pussy for me. You 
already are. Now we'll continue your discipline."

You'd tear your balls off if you could.

They use electricity other ways, too. Sometimes they'll push a metal dildo 
up your ass. They have a bare wire catheter than goes all the way up your 
penis into your bladder. They enjoy seeing the different ways you twitch and 
jerk. But whatever, usually they let current go through your balls. They are 
the main source of the Masters' entertainment.

-------------

The first time they let me in the house I was terrified, but they had let me 
in because I was so good. My balls were stretched out further than usual, 
with extra rings, so they hurt even more than normally, but I was warned not 
to show any pain. One of the Masters joked that it was 'formal wear.' For 
some reason my hands were shackled to my slave collar, up behind my neck 
instead of behind my waist or to a belt. I think they liked the variety. My 
feet were hobbled with a short cable, but once inside I had to stay on my 
knees anyway. I was not completely blindfolded for this, because I had to 
move around, so there were tiny slits to look out of.

I knelt on the carpet close to the table, listening to the guests laugh and 
joke, head down as they required. Other slaves were there too but I don't 
know how many. One for each guest? It was hard not to squirm because my 
balls hurt so much. Finally Master Jack called me and I shuffled over on my 
knees.

"This is the best bitch I have," he told the others while he stroked my 
hair. One or two of them made wisecracks. "No, really. It broke so 
beautifully. Used to be this tough, macho guy, and I had so much fun killing 
that part off. Now you're really sweet, aren't you?"  He was caressing my 
shoulder, running a hand down over my back.

"Yes, Master Jack."

"And you really love me for what I do to you, don't you?"

I didn't answer at first. Please don't make me say that!

"Don't you? You'd best answer truthfully or it's the cross for you."

No!

"Yes, Master Jack, I do love you so."

"I know you do. And you love the discipline I give you, don't you."

"Yes, Master Jack. I love my discipline."

"Are you a good bitch slave?"

"Yes, Master Jack. I always want to be good for you."

"And you love it when I fuck you?"

"Yes Master Jack. You fuck me so good."

He had me crawl under the table to his chair and move all the way up between 
his legs. I bumped against one of the other slaves on the way, though the 
table is enormous. Like all the other men, Master Jack was naked under his 
kilt. I had thought he would want me to suck him off, because he was telling 
the others how good a cocksucker I had become, but right now he was soft and 
just wanted me to take him in my mouth. His penis was a little damp and it 
was less sour than usual, as though he had just washed. It is always long, 
even when he isn't erect, and I sucked it all into my mouth. I know his 
penis better than anything else in the world, better than my own face.

He put a hand to the back of my head and pulled my face all the way up 
against his belly, so that it was difficult to breathe and his pubic hairs 
tickled my nose. His sexual scent was powerful down here. I knelt there 
during the dinner, filled with his aroma and taste, his long and spongy 
wiener filling my mouth almost to my throat, sucking and swallowing softly 
to please him. The sucking helped take my mind off my balls.

During the meal he told me he had to urinate and that I shouldn't spill any. 
He put his hand to the back of my head again, to ensure a snug fit, and 
pissed a long and steady stream. Even concentrating on swallowing and not 
coughing or spilling I was struck by how especially bitter and pungent it 
was this time. Still I managed to do my slave job, not at all like the time 
I'd choked and lost so much of it that he had given me a full-day torture as 
a lessen and then had had everyone use me as their toilet. I think I almost 
died. It was so bad that Master Jack stopped hurting me for the better part 
of a week afterwards, so that I could recuperate, but I had learned. It can 
always be worse.

Later he told me the pungency came from eating asparagus.

----------------

The cross is the worst thing, not because it hurts more than anything else - 
they can always hurt you as much as they want - but because they let it go 
on and on when you're on it. It's shaped like a cross, though with broad 
beams, maybe a foot wide, covered with some kind of material, and it's on a 
hinge. They lay it down with the hinge and you are fastened to it before it 
is raised again.

It has a large brass phallus that they have to work your anus over, until it 
is deep inside you and you are flush against the boards. This will hold you 
up when they raise the cross, that and the leather straps that pull your 
arms wide and your legs down. The phallus is attached to electricity, and it 
is hollow so that they can shoot air or liquid into you and make you hold it 
as long as they want. They can do anything they want.

They've always used electricity when I've been on the cross or seen anyone 
else on it. They usually push the metal tube up your penis, all the way to 
your bladder, and fix it there. They wire your balls. They push fish hooks 
attached to wires through your nipples, two to each nipple, one on each side

Then they raise the cross and the fun begins.

They send electricity to different contact points. I don't know if there's 
any pattern. They'll do a nipple, the ass and balls, the ass and penis. It 
will start low, then they'll rush the stuff so you're jerking and yelling. 
They use rubber blocks so you don't break your teeth but otherwise they 
don't gag you. They want everyone to hear. After a few minutes the 
electricity goes off and you're gasping and sweating. You're winded after 
the first dose. Then it starts again, through a different wire.

During the first part Masters often will be gathered below with other 
slaves, giving out their daily punishments for all their infractions, first 
hurting them and then making them give suck while you shake on the cross. 
After that they'll take the other slaves to their stalls and chain them up 
for the night and do whatever else to them that comes to mind, while you 
hang there. It goes on all night long. When the electricity goes off you 
fall into a stupor and you're too tired to hold yourself up, but then it 
comes on again and you can't help moving or help the sounds you make. All 
night long. If you're chained in your stall, hogtied for the night with a 
dildo up your ass and sucking on a penis gag, you'll hear it all night. 
Inchoate cries, then silence, then cries.

They use the cross for serious punishments, but sometimes they do it for no 
reason at all. The Masters call it "party time," a special treat for 
themselves. The slave is chosen by lot. They've also had real parties, with 
outsiders, and always have used the cross as a centerpiece. I did a party up 
there because Master Jack likes to put me on display.

----------------

This is how Master Jack decided to addict me to him, after I had been 
broken.

He tied me spread-eagle on my back on a bed in the house, a very large bed. 
I was afraid. I'd never been on the bed before. He put a rubber blindfold on 
me, one that went over my head like a swim cap and all the way to my cheeks. 
There was a slot cut for my nose. I was afraid because Master Jack had taken 
off my penis guard and my testicle rings. I knew he was going to play with 
me, and before when he'd taken my genitals out it was always to hurt me. He 
loves to hear me whimper and moan, especially when he has ordered me to be 
quiet. It gives him an excuse to hurt me more, for discipline. He loves it 
when I can't help begging even though I know begging won't help. It makes 
him all the happier when afterwards I have to tell him I love him and then 
suck him sweetly or tongue his anus around and around.

I listened as hard as I could, hearing Master Jack moving around the room, 
doing something and talking with another Master. They were going to play 
with each other I thought, and both would get to play with me. What would 
they do to me? Would they do one of those things Master Jack most enjoys, or 
would they try something new, to see how much they could make me demean 
myself? I try to be good when they do those things. I try so hard. But they 
always push things past my limits and after I cry or protest or jerk, Master 
Jack says he has to have to punish me again.

I must have dozed off. When I felt the bed shift I tensed up. I couldn't 
help that, even though it was useless. Someone moved right up to me.

"Hello precious."  It was Master Jack. "Are we comfortable?"

"Yes Master Jack. Thank you, sir."

"Well, let's see if we can make you feel even better."

His hand touched my balls. It was time to start hurting me before he fucked 
me, but, no. No. What was it? He caressed my balls with just the tips of his 
fingers. It tickled. He went around and around them. Oh God. He'd never done 
anything like that before. Tickle my balls. His fingers moving around and 
around. He did the same to my inner thighs, then went back to my balls.

I felt my penis stir. How long since I'd felt that? His fingertips went 
around my testicles once more, then brushed along the whole length of my 
penis. It began to grow. I could feel it. He stroked the whole length again. 
It surged. Oh God. Oh God. Sex pleasure. My breathing became shallow. I 
tried to control it, to be still. He stroked my penis again. Again. He 
caressed the whole length, beginning behind my balls, on that sensitive 
place just in front of my anus, and brushing lightly all the way over my 
balls and along my shaft, to the head, not missing anything.

I made a noise in my throat and pushed my penis up toward him and he 
stopped.

"No you don't, you little slut. I control everything that happens. If you 
know what's good for you, you'll control yourself and not try to steal 
pleasure. I think some discipline may be in order.

"I'm sorry Master Jack. I'll be good. I promise I will. Please forgive your 
little slave."

------------------

Master Jack told me they loved making the cross. He told me this while he 
was caressing me and kissing me on the mouth before they raised me up one 
time. I was crying and shaking and I asked him in my little, quavering slave 
voice why they had to hurt me so much, because I would always be as good as 
I could possibly be for him.

"Oh, this is a win-win situation," he told me. "It's good for both of us."

He kissed me deeply, his lips so full and warm, and he had me suck on his 
tongue like I'd been taught. He licked my eyes, moved to my ear, sucked on 
my ear lobe.

He went on.  "You know you have the softest ear lobes in the world."  His 
voice was husky, the way it gets when he is the most excited. He went on 
talking in that breathy voice, almost a whisper, his mouth right to my ear. 
His breath was warm on my ear. We were so intimate.

"This is a win-win situation, my little bitch. It is wonderful for both of 
us. For you, well it helps you repress that horrid, testosterone personality 
you used to have and fully develop your sweet, slave personality."

He chuckled the way you might chuckle indulgently to your child and kissed 
me again, moving his tongue over mine. I have to kiss him lovingly, and his 
mouth is so sensual. He lifted his head to look me in the face.

"And for me? I get such enormous pleasure from it. So be a good slut and 
learn your place."

----------------

I was a tough guy. I was. It wasn't a joke. I could handle myself. I wasn't 
a bastard but I'd been in some fights. That was so long ago. It doesn't seem 
like me. I had a big dick that I loved to fuck with, and girlfriends who 
loved it.

The night I was taken was like any other. I didn't notice anything odd or 
out of place. I left this bar and walked across the street and three guys 
with guns forced me into a van. That's all there was to it. They gagged and 
tied me, blindfolded me, and drove for hours.

In my stall here, wherever 'here' is, they tied me spread-legged, arms 
pulled upward, still blindfolded. They took off my gag and let me yell. They 
put the testicle ring on me and attached a heavy weight to it, to dangle 
between my legs. Then they just walked out and closed the door.

You can't know what it was like. I tried to be tough but I couldn't do 
anything and they just waited me out, let me go from yelling and cursing to 
crying to begging. It was hours, forced to stand, my balls pulled down from 
my body. I think I was mostly out of it when Master Jack came in to whip my 
backside. He ordered me to count the welts, and I tried not to, but he kept 
up and in the end I did everything he said. I was bargaining and begging, 
offering money, anything. He added another weight to my balls and left me 
alone again.

More hours. I drifted in and out. I couldn't stop writhing around. It's 
their secret, not the amount of pain but the fact that they can keep giving 
it forever and you can't even move. I was moaning and whimpering. I remember 
hearing someone crying and then realizing it was me. When Master Jack came 
back he whipped my front, again making me count the strokes. This time I did 
everything he said. I was so meek. I whimpered and cried and said "please 
Master" and everything. When he was done with the whipping he set enough 
slack in the rope that I could kneel in front of him. He put his penis to my 
face and told me to suck him.

"Slut, you'd better be sweet and loving and make me feel better than I've 
ever felt, or things will get worse for you."

You learn to embrace your slave personality right away. I'd never had a 
penis in my mouth before. I'd never tasted one. I tried to give him 
pleasure, tried to know what to do. What had my girlfriends done that I'd 
especially liked? I guess I sucked him acceptably. He spurted into me and I 
swallowed it all like a good slut. It was the first thing I'd had to drink 
since they'd taken me. Then he pulled the rope up so I was standing, added 
another weight to my balls, and left again.

So it went. Everything blended together. The next time, I think, was when he 
fucked my ass and made me clean him with my mouth. I worked hard to do a 
good job, to get it completely clean for him, licking every part of his 
penis thoroughly, again and again until I couldn't make out any flavor of 
shit. I didn't care that I was belching and heaving.

He bragged about how ridiculously easy it was to break someone. He said they 
hadn't let me drink anything for three days, or eat for a week, and had used 
hurting to keep me awake almost the entire time. When he stuck his penis in 
my mouth and told me to drink his piss, I was so thirsty I couldn't get 
enough of it. About that time they took the weights off my balls and started 
using electricity instead.

---------------

On the bed, I held my ass tightly down, not moving my hips at all, showing 
him I could control myself. After a minute he began again, alternating the 
strokes, first ticking my balls, then stroking up my shaft to my dick head. 
My dick felt so full, so engorged, not just a penis anymore. The second 
stroke to the head and I felt it move under his hand, pulling upward.

"I told you not to move, you worthless bitch."  He took my balls in his 
hands and began to squeeze.

"Please Master Jack, I didn't do that. Really I didn't. It does that on it's 
own. I'm sorry Master Jack. I can't control it. Ohh..!"  I stopped talking 
because he was squeezing so hard that I had to gasp and wriggle on the bed.

He squeezed for several minutes, doing it hard so I couldn't help 
responding, then loosening his grip, then squeezing again. When I was out of 
breath and covered in sweat he stopped squeezing me and began the strokes on 
my penis again. It had gone all the way down, but it grew through the pain. 
He is so adept. He knows just how to do it. He knows everything about 
controlling me. In a few minutes I was right where he wanted me, caught 
between the throbbing in my testes and the throbbing in my dick head. He 
leaned over my face.

"I know you can't control it, you sweet thing."  He chuckled, petting my 
dick. "But look who likes the discipline."

----------------

There must be at least eight or ten slaves at one time. I don't know because 
I don't see the others much, and I don't know if there are many changes. 
I've never talked with one of the others. I think we each have our own 
little stall or cell. Mine is almost pitch black when the light is out. 
Every sleep period they will bind me in a different position, spread-eagled, 
stretched upward, bent over a rail, hog-tied. My arms have never been free, 
not for a second, the whole time I've been here. They'll never be free 
again. A slave doesn't get to control its body. We have to clean ourselves 
and brush our teeth, but even then our arms are strapped together at elbow 
and wrist so it is difficult.

They make us do chores, pulling carts or using rakes or brooms or such. 
Occasionally two or three slaves will have to work together, but they've 
told us that a single whisper will get a day on the cross, and they'd do it.

They have open tortures, and that is where I've seen the most slaves at a 
time. A slave who needs discipline will be hurt for hours, while the rest of 
us have to watch, and it is where the Masters get the most inventive. They 
love this so much that they will have the rest of us suck on them almost 
continually during it. Master Jack came in me three times during one 
torture, in huge amounts.

----------------

He went back to stroking me.

"You know why I chose you to be mine? Oh partly it was so much fun to break 
such a macho asshole. But partly it was because you have such a big monkey. 
Your monkey loves me, because I dominate you. Feel how it strains up under 
my hands? It loves me. You think you hate being disciplined, but your monkey 
shows your real feelings."

My penis surged under his hands again.

----------------

I saw my reflection in a mirror a few weeks back, just in passing. I didn't 
recognize myself. I was so thin and so tentative in my gestures. I didn't 
recognize the expression on my face. My arms looked natural, held behind my 
back. They make sure you don't get much sun, so I was pale, almost white, my 
body naked of all hair, my testicles standing out from me like plums, my 
sheathed penis like a little branch. I was standing beside Master Jack and 
my image deferred to his, acted like an extension of him, like women had 
acted to me. I was beautiful.

----------------

"I haven't even given your monkey true pleasure, yet, just a few caresses. 
How do you think it would respond to real loving? Feel this."

My dick head was taken in his mouth and all I could feel was wet heat and 
soft mouth flesh on me. I worked as hard as I could to keep my hips still. 
It was so good. I was so high. I was going to come. I was going to come. I 
could feel it throughout the whole length of my penis. And then he took his 
mouth off me and my dick head was hanging in the cool air, not touching 
anything at all.

"You love this, don't you, precious?"

"Yes, Master Jack. Yes. I love it. Please do me some more."

"Certainly. In a minute."

He spent the minute squeezing my balls, making me whimper. When he was done 
my dick was just a penis again. He leaned down and sucked it back into his 
mouth, sucked it in hard, then pleasured it with his tongue. It surged again 
and soon I was as high as before, getting close.

It had been forever. He used hands and mouth to play with me, stopping to 
hurt my balls, then playing with my penis again. My breathing was ragged, 
shallow, almost gasping. He pulled off me again. I was so close, I couldn't 
stand it.

"Please let me come, Master Jack. Please do it. I love you so much, Master 
Jack."

"Let you come? Nonsense! Where did you ever get that idea? Orgasm isn't for 
you. Orgasm is for Masters. Your job is to *give* pleasure. If I let you 
have a tiny taste of heaven it's just a little benevolence. Don't you dare 
orgasm, or I'll punish you more than you've ever experienced. Do you 
understand, slut?"

"Yes Master Jack. I understand. I'm sorry."

"And you'll make sure to never orgasm if I play with your monkey?"

"Yes Master. I promise."  Oh God, oh God, oh God!

He began stroking me again, those light little stokes. Once in awhile he 
squeezed my testicles again, but then he'd pleasure me more. I didn't want 
it to end, but I was crazy because he wouldn't take me all the way there.

He took my dick head into his mouth again. Oh God, that. It was so unworldly 
good, tongue and lips all over me. He took his mouth off me long enough to 
say my pre-cum tasted sweet, then went down on me again. I couldn't take it. 
I felt it through my whole penis. It was going to happen and he was going to 
hurt me bad. The vibrations were starting. Don't let them start! Let them 
come! Don't let them come!

"Master Jack, I'm going to come! I'm going to come now! I can't help it, 
Master Jack!"

He pulled off me, circled the base of my dick head with a finger and thumb, 
and squeezed hard, holding it and holding it, hard, harder, until the 
vibrations finally went away. A few minutes and he let go and left my dick 
swaying in the air. I was still panting.

"That's a sweet slave. Always let me know so we can stop things. That's very 
good. You know you're my favorite because you're so obedient. That's why I 
let your monkey out of its cage and played with it. But you have to be very, 
very good to get such a treat. Now we'll let you rest a bit, so all that sex 
feeling can flow out of you. Maybe we'll play again later if you're good. 
Tell me you love me."

"Thank you, Master Jack. Thank you. I love you, Master Jack. I love you."
He left the room and closed the door and I lay there with my penis resting 
on my belly. I could feel slime oozing onto me. My dick didn't want to go 
down.

----------------

I don't know. I don't know. Master Jack told me they will kill me one day, 
but maybe he's just scaring me. He said they'll torture me to death once my 
looks start to leave me, that they'll do it over a two or three day period 
and they'll make me bring them off again and again during it. It will be a 
festival. When it is done they'll butcher me and feed my corpse to the other 
slaves.

"It's the best time of all," he told me while he caressed my penis and 
kissed me. "We get more pleasure then than at any other time."

"But Master Jack," I said, because he had given me permission to ask 
questions, "Why will a person you're torturing to death keep working to give 
you orgasms?"

"They can't help themselves, pussy. Any more than you can right now. You'll 
be good to me right up to the end. Then I'll get to break another man and 
turn him into a sweet slave."

I don't know. I haven't seen a festival, but I think they killed a slave. He 
was on the cross but not just overnight. Three days. They never took him 
down. The last day I don't think he even noticed what they were doing to 
him. I was taken to the house for a guest to play with, and when I was 
brought back he was gone and I never saw him again.

A few days later Master Jack brought me meat to eat. I almost never get 
meat. He said he had a treat for me, that it was the killed slave's phallus. 
I don't know. It looked like a big penis, the head and all, if it had been 
chopped off and smoked for a long time, but I couldn't tell. Who's ever seen 
a cooked penis? Master Jack had me eat it like a prick, like a corn dog, 
taking bites from the head first, then working my way down to the end. It 
was smoky and delicious and tasted, how to say it, a little uriney all the 
way through. Then I had meat every day for several days.

----------------

"Hello my sweet little shit."  It was Master Jack. I guess I had dozed off 
again. "Were we sleeping peacefully?"

"I think so, Master Jack."

"Did I give you permission to sleep?"

I stopped breathing, because I knew what would happen now.

"No Master Jack. I'm sorry Master Jack. I'll do better. I'll be sure to stay 
awake. Please give me another chance. I'll do it. I know I can."  I knew 
what was going to happen. I started crying a little while I begged him. 
Neither crying nor begging would help. I had to be disciplined.

"After I gave you a treat no slave ever gets, monkey pleasure! And this is 
how I'm rewarded! How many Masters do you think would suck on their bitch's 
cock?"

"I'm sorry Master Jack! Please! I'm sorry! You're so good to me. Please let 
me try again. I know I can do better for you! I'm sorry I let you down! I 
love you so much!"

"Shut up! You're disgusting. You need to be punished. Now ask me to 
discipline you. Tell me how much you need me to drive out your disobedience 
and make you good."

I was crying so much I almost couldn't talk, but I had to or it would be 
even worse.

"I'm sorry my Master. I'm so disobedient and willful. Please punish me to 
make me a sweet slave to you."  I had to stop and catch me breath before I 
could go on. I knew what to say.

"I love you so much. Please punish me and make me good and loving."

His face was right over mine. I could feel his breath and smell his arousal.

"That's right, you sweet thing. I know you love me and want to be good. You 
*are* lovely when you get like this."

He licked the wetness off my face, all of it, his warm tongue going 
everywhere. Then we kissed and he made me kiss him while he squeezed my 
balls. I grunted into his mouth while he did this but kept kissing him 
sensually throughout it, the way he likes. This wasn't the punishment, just 
a warm-up.

He wrapped my balls in bands and attached the wires. I heard him moving 
around in the room for a minute, then the electricity started. It started 
low, like it always does, then exploded into me and through my balls. I 
arched and tried to kick and pull my arms out, and I thrashed back and forth 
on the bed. I was crying out and begging him. Please Master Jack! Through it 
I heard him talking with someone else. I heard bits of conversation through 
my screams as I begged him, begged him to stop.

"God I love it. I want to be sucked off."

"Want to use my slave?"

"I don't want a fucking slave. I want you."

"You want me to suck you?"

The was a silence. The only noise was me.

"Like that, darling?"

"Yes. Do it. Do it."

Again the only noise was my yelling.

----------------

I was a pathetic slave back then. I didn't even know how to fuck right, to 
give the Master using my ass the most pleasure, to grasp with my anus and to 
push out against him so my rectum would close on his dick, to time my 
pushing to his thrusts, to anticipate what he wanted, to think only of him.

And I had to learn discipline.

I was strapped out across the wall, my scrotum distended so it looked like a 
malformed, pink water balloon, one that waved back and forth in front of me 
because I couldn't stop writhing. My testicles had been burning for hours, 
burning. He had inflated me with a liquid to teach me discipline. I was 
covered in sweat and gasping because it had gone on so long, but he always 
knew how to make it so I couldn't completely stop moving or moaning. He was 
sitting on a stool right in front of me and ordered me to hold still so he 
could thread a catheter up my penis.

"I can't. Oh God, I can't."  I was too disoriented with the pain and the 
exhaustion to remember to call him Master. He would punish me for that 
later.

"Do it now, you useless pussy! Hold the pain in so I can do this to you. 
Now!"

So I pushed my ass back against the wall as hard as I could, to keep myself 
still, shivering but not jerking. I watched as he grabbed my penis with one 
hand and pushed and twisted the catheter with the other, snaking it up into 
me. I felt it pass my bladder's sphincter. It was nothing in comparison to 
my balls. Dark yellow fluid flowed out the short tube, into a cup.

"Drink this."

It tasted strong but I didn't care because of the pain. I swallowed it right 
down. I was starting to writhe again, though. He held up an enormous syringe 
filled with a clear fluid.

"Look at this. It will make you forget all about your stupid balls."

He attached the syringe to the tube and began pushing the fluid up into me. 
There was a fleeting cold feeling in my groin and then it was burning too, 
like my balls, but more intense, and it traveled higher and higher until my 
whole belly, my back, my sides all were inflamed and I was cramping up. I 
screamed and began jerking and hurling myself about, but he just kept 
injecting me. When the first was empty he did a second. Then a third. He 
didn't stop until the last syringe was empty.

"You won't have the energy to keep moving like that for long," he said. 
"Then I'll come back and we'll discuss your lack of discipline."  He clipped 
off the tube so nothing would flow out, and left the room.

----------------

After punishment my balls usually hurt a long time before they get back to 
the normal aching, but they didn't hurt as much as usual this time. He 
didn't use the electricity as long as usual. He turned it off and removed 
the apparatus from my balls and left the room. I breathed heavily for some 
time, coming down from my pain high. I could start to sense things around 
me, again. The bedclothes were rumpled under me. I must have done that 
during my squirming.

Master Jack sat down by my head and said to thank him for my punishment and 
to tell him how much I loved him. I did and he leaned over to kiss me. I 
knew I made him happy. We kissed lovingly, the way he had taught me. At one 
time I had thought I wouldn't be able to stand doing that, but now it was 
easy. It was one of the best things.

He began tickling my balls and penis again. It wasn't going to work this 
time, not after punishment, but of course it did. He kissed me deeply while 
he played with me, and after a bit I breathed shallowly into his mouth 
because he had gotten my penis to grow again and I was hot. He did all the 
same things he had done before, nothing new, so there's nothing to tell. I 
had never known that just playing with your balls can excite you. I didn't 
know;  really I didn't. I don't think I realized that hands moving up your 
shaft can give you touches of pleasure even before they reach your glans. 
Master Jack knows all of that. He got my penis big and full of pressure, 
wanting to come. Master Jack, your fingers moving up and up. Rub me like 
that again. Do it again. Don't stop.

He climbed on top of me, crouching on me so our penises touched. He rubbed 
my penis up and down with his penis, while we kissed. He sucked on my 
nipples. We kissed some more while our bodies moved together. I could do 
this forever, I thought. Then he did something different.

"Feel this," he told me. He sat up on his knees, pulled my dick straight up, 
and rubbed something on it. It was slippery and thick. Grease. Then he sat 
back onto my dick. He had to work it at his anus for a moment. Oh God. He 
was going to have me fuck him. I felt his anus let my dick in. He held 
himself still for a moment, then slid down a little, impaling himself. I 
gasped and held myself as still as I could. Then more. Then all the way 
down. It was better than the mouth. He rose until my dick head was almost 
out, then settled all the way down again. I was fucking his ass. No, he was 
fucking my dick. It was so good. I moaned for him. I knew what was going to 
happen.

"Isn't that special, sweetheart?"

"Oh yes, Master Jack. Oh. It feels so wonderful. Oh!"  I said `oh' each time 
he moved.

To lean down and kiss me, he had to pull almost completely off me, so we 
kissed while only the head of my dick was in his ass. He made tiny movements 
back and forth.

"Master Jack. Master Jack."  I was trying to talk through the kissing. 
"Master Jack, it's so wonderful, but I'll come. It's too much, Master Jack. 
I can't help it."

"You'll have to control yourself, pussy. If you come in me I'll have to hurt 
you badly."

"I can't help it Master Jack! Please! You fuck so well. Please don't make 
me!"

But he kept making those little back-and-forth fucking movements. Then he 
would hold his body still while we kissed. My penis never backed down. I was 
at the edge. After a few minutes he sat up and slowly impaled himself again, 
giving me that feeling of his ass-flesh moving across my dick while he 
settled himself.

"Please, Master Jack! Don't move. Please don't!"

He rose again, until only my head was in him. He said, "You'll have to 
control yourself, little one," and he slid downward on me again.

*  *  *  *  *  *

Since then he will take my penis out and play with it from time to time. He 
doesn't always make me come, but he always takes me to the edge, to where 
I'm trapped between needing to come and being afraid to. The best is when he 
takes me to bed with him, tied beside him with my penis free. He'll fuck me 
and play with me, then during the night I'll wake with him playing with me 
again and I'll already be hard. This will happen two of three times during 
the night. It seems the whole night is pleasure, and he keeps getting me to 
that edge. He is so wonderful.

If he does bring me off the rush is so great that it leaves me gasping and 
dizzy, but then he does hurt me and hurt me. I can't learn to control 
myself, so I need to be disciplined. It isn't his fault I'm such a slut. I 
am, though. I am. I love his ass the most, being inside of him, feeling him 
sliding up and down my pole. If my punishment hasn't been too harsh, when 
he's finished with me and I've stopped crying I'll dream of him playing with 
me. I know he loves me.



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