R. PrestonRyanChapter 2The rest of the weekend was comparatively uneventful, and as soon as he had left on Sunday afternoon, I booted up my computer and began looking for the things I needed to learn more about. Before long I had found a few Web-rings that had lots of non-whipping, yet still painful looking things that while intended for adults, could easily translate to Ryan without the need for a lot of expensive equipment.It did seem like many of the male tortures centered on their genitals, so I ignored those ones. For now at least, despite running around the house all weekend with as little clothing as you can wear without being naked, Ryan didn't seem prepared to go any farther, and I wasn't about to ask him to. "Xtreme sports" and "adrenaline junkies" turned up even more Web-rings, but most concentrated more on the various skills and tricks than the psychology behind it that I was looking for. Whenever I did come across anything about how the participants felt about the stunts they did, and once I figured out more or less what words like "gnarly" and "stoked" meant, their mind-set did seem to match Ryan's feelings of challenging and conquering fear that led him to do the things he did. Much of my spare time that week was spent picking up and modifying everyday items to use on Ryan. I even managed to come up with a preliminary plan for the rack he wanted us to make. I had built a heavy duty, and just plain heavy, Cyprus wood chaise lounge for my patio, before the much more comfortable, and far easier to bring inside for the winter resin ones had come along. With a little modification, I though it would be almost perfect for what he had in mind. I thought that an old blade from my table saw would work well for the latching mechanism, so, being not quite ready to let Ryan loose on my lathe yet, I went ahead and turned a cylinder for the stretching ropes just slightly smaller in diameter than the lowest point on the teeth. He was becoming competent enough with most of my other tools, so I left the rest for us to do together. When Friday afternoon finally rolled around, I was far less apprehensive as I retrieved Ryan's reports from the fax machine. He hadn't completed some of his homework, but he hadn't caused any trouble at all in school. Even his police report was blank, I'm sure helped at least partly by the call I'd made to the chief complaining about the charges that had been made against Ryan the weekend before when he was with me. I had a viable story ready just in case it was needed, but he never asked what Ryan was doing with me, and I sure wasn't about to tell him. At that time, when his behavior improved so quickly, I was worried that his teachers and the police would question his amazing turnaround, but as it turned out, I didn't have to worry at all. Both groups were far too busy taking credit for it, which was fine by me. Not only did it have the obvious advantage of them not asking questions, there was the added bonus of making them much more willing to forgive Ryan and far more interested in seeing him succeed. They stopped automatically blaming him for everything that they couldn't find the real culprit for, causing the unwarranted complaints, bad reports, and accusations from them to cease much quicker than I think they would have otherwise. I could tell by his extra cheerful attitude when he arrived that he knew he had done well, so I didn't even bother to show him the reports, I just said, "You did a great job of keeping out of trouble this week." "Yeah, I know." He said with a smug look, and then quickly becoming concerned he added, "You're still going to do something to me this weekend, right?" "You bet! I've got lots of nasty things planned for you." "Like what?" He asked. "Like your homework. I want you to bring it along. I'll help you with it if you need me to." "Ok, I will, if I can still get into the school to get it.." He promised, "But we're still gonna do other stuff too right?" "Unlike you, I did my homework this week," I said, unable to resist one last barb on the subject. "And I came up with a few new ideas I think you'll like, or more likely hate, if you catch my drift." "Like what?" He asked, sounding both excited, and at the same time a bit unsure if he really wanted to know. "It's a secret." I said in my most defiant tone, trying to let him know that he would have to wait to find out, and knowing that the suspense would be good for him. "Well I might have a surprise for you too." He said in a mock pout. "Oh? What is it?" I asked innocently, knowing full well that he wouldn't tell me, but giving him the chance to have his revenge. "It's a secret!" He said, in exactly the tone of voice I knew he would, before softening it considerably and adding. "But I think you'll really like it." I let him go early again so that hopefully he could make it back to the school before it was locked up for the weekend, and after closing up the office, I made my way home. He showed up not much later, carrying a backpack that looked like it had spent most, if not all of the school year crumpled up in the bottom of his locker. All through the time we were preparing and eating supper, he kept quizzing me about the new things I was going to do to him, but I wouldn't get into anything specific with him. All I would tell him was that it would be really hard, making it sound as bad as I dared, trying to give him the maximum amount of dread without going too far and having him too scared to go through with it. By the time we were finished, he was pretty anxious, so I didn't make him wait any longer. It worked out well, because while what I had in mind for him wouldn't physically be as painful as what he had gone through the week before, it would be quite a bit more time consuming, and I'm sure he wouldn't want to miss the beginning of his movies. The new things we had made the week before worked well, and in no time he was stretched out in his usual standing spread-eagle position. I knew he was going to be there for quite a while this time, so I locked his wrists slightly lower on the chains, allowing him a bit more slack. He could stand flat-footed, but he still wasn't going far. "What's that?" He asked as I brought out my first surprise of the weekend and showed it to him. "A blindfold." I said. I'd bought yet another dog collar, this time a much longer but thinner one, and using some of the leftover leather from the earlier collars, I'd made what I hoped would be a very effective blindfold for him. It worked as well as I'd hoped, and in no time, with no resistance from him, I had it snugly buckled around his head, leaving him totally blind to what was going on around him. "Now what?" He asked, obviously not really seeing the point to it all. "Now I'm going to whip you, but unlike the other times, you aren't going to know when or where I'm going to do it. They could land anywhere, and might be a second apart, or several minutes. They could be hard ones, or they could be easy ones, you won't know until you actually feel them." I explained, adding a light lash across his bare back for emphasis, which brought a surprised yelp from him. For a little over an hour we battled one another, him trying to anticipate what was coming, and me doing my best to catch him off guard, and for once, I seemed to be winning, although I'll admit that the deck was severely stacked in my favor. Not only was almost his entire body bare for the lash, and I could vary the timing and strength of the lashes to whatever I wanted, I had the advantage of being able to watch him. I could tell what he was anticipating by how he would flex and bow his body to prepare for what he thought was coming, and would naturally deliver either something completely different, or wait until he relaxed again before giving him the next one. His front side, that I hadn't ever whipped before got a good bit of attention this time, and I would often five him a lash across his stomach or chest whenever he bowed too far forward anticipating a lash on his back. His bare legs also got an occasional taste of the lash, and while not overly responsive, I did notice that his inner thighs were extremely sensitive. They were quite hard to hit in the position he was, but I did make a mental note to possibly try it in the future sometime when his legs were spread wider. Eventually, he seemed to just give up, and as much as humanly possible, quit trying to anticipate and avoid what was coming. In doing so, he got about as much if a victory as was possible for him, as it took almost all of the fun out of it for me. I had other plans for him later that night, so I decided to quit with the blindfolded whipping soon after he had given up trying to anticipate, but rather then release him as I normally did, I unlocked his wrist cuffs from the chains, and then padlocked them together to the large D ring in his collar that I had rotated so that it was behind his neck before undoing the stock and finally removing the blindfold. "How was that?" I asked him once he was as free as he would get for a while. "Awful, but not too bad I guess." He said before asking, "Did I miss the movie?" "No, there's still about half an hour before the first one starts." I said, after checking my watch to make sure. "Wow, it seemed like I was getting it for hours. I thought for sure I was missing them." "No, I know better than that." I said. "What's with this?" he asked, gesturing with his head towards his elbows that were forced upwards and to the sides by the position his wrists were locked in. "I told you… I did my homework, and I've got a new idea I want to try, but you can do it while you're watching TV." I followed close behind him as we went back up the stairs, not wanting him to lose his balance and fall backwards with his arms locked the way they were. Once we were in the living room and settled on the sofa he asked. "So, what are you going to do to me now?" "Nothing right at the moment." I said, "But when the first movie is over, I thought you might like to try these." I picked up a pair of plastic spring clothespins from the coffee table and showed them to him. It didn't take a rocket surgeon to figure out that they where going to be pinching him somewhere, but just where was a little more uncertain so he asked. "Where are you going to put those on me?" "One is going here." I said, touching his defenseless right nipple, and then brushing the left one I added, "And the other one goes here." "No way! That'll really hurt won't it?" "Yeah, it'll probably be quite painful, but I'm sure you can take it." I answered. "Oh man. Do I have to?" He whined. "No, of course not, I'll only put them on you if you ask me to." "And what happens if I don't?" He asked, knowing that there had to be some kind of a catch. "Nothing will happen. There won't be any kind of a penalty at all." I said, "I'll just know you aren't quite as brave as I thought you were." It was a rotten trick on my part, but I think that as soon as I said it he realized that no matter how painful it might be, he would be asking me to put them onto him at the intermission between the two movies. "I'll think about it." He said, as the commercials finally ended and first movie began. Normally he watched his movies laying across my lap, with me rubbing his chest or back, but with his arms secured the way they were, that wasn't working, but after trying a few different positions, I eventually slid back as far into the sofa as I could, and he sat between my spread legs. I couldn't really see the movie that well, but I wasn't actually all that interested in it anyhow, and had other things to keep myself occupied, namely his nipples. They had attracted me from the first time I saw him shirtless, and while I'd had some contact with them before, I could never give them as much attention as I would have liked, but now I had a plausible excuse to play with them. I'd read that stimulating them to full erection before applying the clips would make them easier to attach the pegs to, and also make them more sensitive, making the pressure even more painful. I figured that the first reason would be adequate if he asked, and wasn't about to tell him the second one. As it turned out, I didn't need an excuse. As soon as I reached around his sides and started to gently rub and tweak them, rather than complain or ask why I was doing it, he moaned and relaxed back into me, seemingly enjoying it even more than I was. Whether it was from having his nipples played with, or because he was thinking about what was to come, he was much quieter during the movie than he usually was, with not much more than the occasional moan telling me that he was even still awake. As the movie started to wind down and the end became imminent, he sighed and asked, "Will you do that to me again once I've done the clothespins?" "Well, I don't really think you'll like it, they'll probably be too sore, but I'm sure there will be lots of other times, and I'd be happy to do it for you then." "Okay, let's get it over with then." He said as "The End" appeared in dripping blood font on the screen. I helped him to his feet and once standing I said, "These will probably really hurt at first, but if you can stand it long enough it shouldn't feel quite as bad. I want you to brace yourself like you do when you're getting whipped." He did as I asked, spreading his feet about a shoulder-width apart and tightening his muscles as well as he could with his arms bound in that position. He even tightened up his stomach and chest muscles, and while I don't know if it was really going to help him or not, but he sure looked good standing like that. "What are you waiting for?" He asked after he had been standing like that a little longer than necessary. I had been distracted by how hot he looked, but quickly recovered and said, "You haven't asked me to put them on you yet." I could tell that he wanted to complain about having to say it, but after a brief pause said, "Put those clothespins onto my nipples." And then as an afterthought added 'Please" He held his breath, and tightened up even more as the first peg approached a nipple, and as I clamped it into place, he exhaled so rapidly I thought he was going to scream, but instead the only sound was the air rapidly leaving his lungs. The second one followed, and brought a similar, if slightly more muted response. After giving him a while to appreciate the full effect I asked, "So, how do they feel?" "They hurt like hell!" he admitted through clenched teeth before adding, "How long do I have to keep them on?" "That's up to you." I said. "How long do you think you can take it?" "I don't know." He hissed, "'Til the next movie starts, maybe a little longer." By the time the intermission had ended, it was obvious that, while they were still painful, they weren't as bad as they had been, and saying he could stand to keep them on for a while longer, we sat back down the way we had been for the previous film. Eventually, aside from when I'd give the clothespins the occasional bit of a tap with my fingertips, they appeared to be not causing him much discomfort, so about half an hour into the film during a commercial break I said, "I guess that's long enough, do you want me to take them off now?" "Do I ever." He admitted. The sentiment was short lived, as he quickly found out that the first few minutes of having them removed hurt as much or more than when I had put them onto him, but by the time the ads were over, he had settled back down again. I'd unlocked his wrists, but he chose to keep sitting the way he had been, although as I had expected, nipple play was off the table for the rest of the night. By the time the film came to it's gory conclusion, he claimed that they were almost back to normal, although I could see that they still looked quite red. The next day was divided between working on his rack, and doing his homework. The schoolwork went relatively quickly once I had explained some of it to him, the rack on the other hand was taking much more time than either of us had expected, but we were both having a good time working on it together. It seemed like no time at all and we were both heading off to our separate bedrooms for the night. I had just taken my shirt off when I noticed him standing in my doorway, clad only in his underwear, that where every bit as tiny as he had said. It was little wonder that they didn't sell, I could see maybe a very few boys liking them, but I couldn't imagine any mothers, who tended to make such purchases, buying them for them. "I just remembered, I said I would show these to you some time." He said, giving a slow spin to give me the full three sixty effect of both the tiny briefs, and the obvious erection that they were only just hiding. "Pretty sexy." I said, not really knowing what else to say. He stood there for a moment, and seemed to have something else on his mind causing me to ask, "Was there somethin else you wanted?" He took a little too long to answer, but after the pause he just said, "No, I just wanted to show you these." and trotted back to his own room. The next weekend, I decided to not do anything painful to him at all. His birthday was almost there, coming on the following Friday, and, even though he wasn't really expecting his mother to even remember it, he still seemed excited about it, and being a kid, couldn't help but remind me of the date often enough that I could tell that he was really hoping that I would get him something, or at least have something special planned. I did both, and it turned out, that he had quite a surprise in store for me too.
TO BE CONTINUED
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