The Weekend
By Sardonicus
Part III
The next morning, I actually slept longer than I usually would have, so I had to
actually rush about to get ready for my meeting with Maggie.
She had made a huge issue out of me driving to her house completely naked, but I
simply didn't see how I could do that. My small sports car was so low to the
ground, that almost anyone who looked in would be able to tell I had no clothes
on. The possible complications should someone report me to the police, or even
should a police officer be the one to discover my nudity, made me certain that I
couldn't risk this venturesome dare. I determined that I would have to be
honest with Maggie, but I simply couldn't try it. Accordingly, I dressed in my
customary attire for these meetings, running shorts and tennis shoes, and set
out for Maggie and whatever she had planned for me.
When I turned off the main road onto the driveway to the Whistler estate, I
realized I could at least arrive at the house naked. I stopped the car at the
last turn before the main house and quickly stripped off my shorts and shoes,
throwing them onto the seat beside me, I started the car once more and drove up
to the house. Once there, I did as requested and parked my car, stepped out,
and stood, naked, with my back to the front door, awaiting my lady's pleasure.
I stood there for about ten minutes, before I heard her soft chuckle behind me.
"Well, there you are, right on time, and naked as ordered," she said.
"Maggie, I have to confess. I just couldn't risk driving all the way over here
without any clothes on. The police or most anybody who cared to call in a
report could have seen me. I couldn't go to jail over this, so I drove here in
my shorts and shoes then took them off just around the bend from your house.
I'm sorry I didn't follow your instructions, but I hope you can understand."
"Well, to be honest," she replied pensively, " I really didn't expect you to
make the drive naked. I thought you'd probably do just what you did, strip down
just out of sight of the house. In fact, I was over there in the woods,
watching you do just that. The fact that you were honest with me will save you
some punishment. You still have to be punished, of course, but it won't be as
severe as it would have been had you tried to mislead me. I was planning to
spank you 300 times with this," she held up a paint stirring stick, about twelve
inches long by two inches wide, "but now I guess I'll let you off with 200. How
does that sound?"
The paint stirrer did not appear heavy enough to do me any real damage, no
matter how many times she hit me, so I quickly agreed to her proposal. I've
just got to stop giving in without thinking things through!
She took me into the house, which I had previously visited, and right on through
to the covered patio off the dining room.
"Let's not waste any time in getting you ready for your little spanking," she
said. She had a piece of heavy rope on a piece of patio furniture, retrieved
it, and tied my wrists together, securely in front of me. Then, using a
two-step stool, which was handy, she climbed up and threaded the rope through a
sturdy hook that was affixed to a beam, near the edge of the patio. Stepping
down from the tool, she tied the rope off around a supporting pillar for the
roof, leaving me standing comfortably, with my arms stretched above me toward
the beam, which was at least ten feet high. Not content with that, of course,
she got two more lengths of the heavy rope, tied each one tightly about my
ankles and spread them apart, tying off the ropes to the support pillars, also.
Now, I was completely helpless! My arms were stretched above my head and my
feet were spread apart so that I was just barely able to maintain contact with
the patio floor with my toes.
"Now, then, we've just got to prepare the area in question," Maggie said. With
which she went into the house and returned with a bowl of water, and what looked
like scissors, a safety razor and can of shaving cream. She placed the stool in
front of me and sat down on it facing me, took up the scissors and began
trimming my pubic hair!
"Maggie, please!" I begged. "You don't need to do this, do you?"
"Of course I do, Bill," she replied. It's very important that the area to be
punished be hairless and shiny. We wouldn't want any nasty old pubic hair
getting in the way of my little paddle, would we?"
I was confused, and confessed it. "Well you said you were going to give me a
spanking. What does my pubic hair have to do with that?"
"Oh, darling, you should have asked for some clarification on that. No, I'm not
going to spank your ass, I'm going to give you a spanking to your balls." She
had finished trimming with the scissors, and was now covering my genitals with a
thick layer of shaving cream.
"But, how will I explain this to the guys at the gym?"
"Don't worry. I'll leave you a bit of hair above your cock, so you won't be
completely bald down there. If anyone asks, just tell him it's a sex thing and
your girl friend likes it. That won't be a lie, you know. I do like it!
You'll see."
She had finished lathering the area between my legs and was now about to begin
the actual shaving. "Hold really still, now," she giggled. "We wouldn't want
any slips, here, would we?"
We definitely didn't! I held as still as I could while she shaved me, carefully
cleaning away every speck of hair and leaving, as she had promised, a small
triangle of very short pubic hair, just above my penis.
"There, now," Maggie said. You look ready for action! I think it actually
makes your cock and balls look bigger. What do you think?"
Though my view was limited in my bound position, I had to admit it didn't look
as bad as I had feared.
"Now, I did the job this time, but you are going to have the job of keeping it
shaved like this. I don't want to see you with unshaven genitals, ever again.
Are we in agreement?"
"If you say so," I said with no rancor. It was obvious she did like it, so I
could certainly get used to it.
She returned the shaving gear to the house and when she returned she, too was
naked. "Well, we've got to get you all ready for your little spanking," she
said, giving my freshly shaved cock a couple of strokes and looking pleased at
its response.
"Looks like part of you is definitely ready for some action," she was grinning.
"How about the rest of you? Are you ready to begin?"
"I don't believe the position you've tied me in leaves me much room for
argument," I replied.
"You look pretty good, all stretched out like that." She was right in front of
me, squeezing my balls with one hand, while she stroked my cock with the other.
"It simply never fails to amaze me that you allow me to tie you up like this,
even though you know I'm going to do some very cruel things to you. I guess it
must have something to with the pleasure you get, along with the pain. Your
orgasms must be pretty powerful, because they have an effect on you just like a
drug."
"I only know that I'll endure anything from you just to get you to play with my
body," I heard myself saying.
"Well today is going to be a tough one for you," she said. She took a firm grip
on my balls with her left hand and stretched them out and away from my body as
far as they would go. "Yes, nature has provided the perfect place for torturing
a man with such a small device as a paint stirrer. It should be interesting to
see if you can take 200 smacks on your balls and still manage to have an orgasm.
I know you get turned on by a certain amount of pain, but this may be too much,
even for you. What do you think, hmmm?" She released my balls and waited with
an expectant grin for my response.
When it became obvious that I had nothing to say, she grinned again. "Well, I
guess we'd better get the show on the road. The first thing we need to do is
make sure this big boy doesn't get in the way." She was lightly stroking my
cock as she said this.
She stepped behind me, to a small table, then returned to my front, holding a
pair of shiny little alligator clamps, connected by a thin steel chain some
twelve inches in length. She started with my left nipple, teasing and pinching
it with her sharp fingernails until it stood erect. "You have such nice little
nips," she said. "They look just like pencil erasers and they're very
sensitive, aren't they?" As she said this, she opened one of the clamps and
positioned it at the center of my left nipple's tip. When she was satisfied
with its location, she released the jaws and let the sharp teeth of the clamp
close on me.
Breath whistled sharply between my teeth, followed by a murmured "Owww!" It was
immediately obvious that these clamps were much more severe than the ones she
had used on me previously.
"These ARE fairly intense clamps," she said, with mock seriousness. "But they
have to have a very firm grip, because they're going to be supporting a lot of
weight." This was said with a grin and a quick hefting of my cock. She went
through the same routine with my right nipple, getting another moan from me when
the sharp teeth bit home. With both nipples clamped, she gave the chain
connecting them a couple of sharp tugs, seeming pleased with my pained reaction.
"That ought to do the trick. Now let's get your cock hooked up."
She stepped behind me again and returned with a three-foot length of rawhide.
It looked like some sort of bootlace to me. She gave my cock a few smooth
strokes, which made my erection seem harder than I would have thought possible,
particularly under the circumstances. With me fully erect, she doubled the
leather cord at its midpoint and formed a loop at the closed end by passing the
loose ends through it. The loop went over my cock, where she pulled it very
tight, about two inches behind its quickly purpling crown. Then she took the
loose ends and passed them behind the chain connecting my nipples. She pulled
them over the chain until she seemed satisfied that my cock was stretched
upright as far as possible, and that it was exerting a maximum amount of pull on
my nipples, which were now being painfully stretched by the nasty little clamps.
She tied the loose ends off around the chain and seemed quite satisfied with the
results of her efforts. She scored the sensitive head of my cock with a sharp
fingernail. It caused me to jerk in my bonds, and created a nasty pull on the
nipple clamps.
"Now all we have to do is get your balls properly prepared for their spanking."
She was grinning, but her tone was almost officious. I now fully understood
that this was going to be a very tough session for me to endure. I was afraid
to imagine what she was going to do to "prepare" my balls for their imminent
torture.
She left me there while she went into the garage and retrieved a sturdy aluminum
stepladder, setting it up right in front of me, with the step side facing away
from me, the whole thing about two feet from my front.
Satisfied with the ladder's position, she stepped behind me again and returned
with another length of rawhide, longer this time, and a plastic bucket. She
doubled the leather cord, made a loop in the closed end, and, pulling my balls
down in my scrotum as far as she could, placed the loop over them and pulled it
snug. It trapped my balls at the very bottom of my scrotum, making them very
tight, and very shiny. She gave me a demonstration of their sensitivity by
pulling on the leather cord with one hand while raking them with the sharp
fingernails of the other. "Pretty neat, huh?" she teased. "There's even a
little line of separation between them. Kinda makes 'em look like a little pair
of buttocks, huh? Very appropriate for a spanking, don'cha think?" She
expected no answer and I gave none.
She took the end of the cord, pulled it over one of the round ladder rungs which
was about three feet from the ground, then tied it to the handle of the plastic
pail, which she let swing free at the end of the leather cord. The pail was now
suspended, underneath the stepladder, about two and a half feet from the patio
deck, pulling my balls straight out in front of me. My worst fears were
realized when she retrieved a coiled garden hose from the corner of the patio,
turned on the water, and began filling the pail. She said nothing, apparently
preferring to concentrate on the pail, which filled rapidly, getting heavier by
the second. The pull on my balls was getting very bad. The pail looked as if
it held about two gallons of water and she seemed intent on filling it. I
wasn't sure I could take that much weight (about twelve pounds) without
suffering some damage. Mercifully, she stopped when the pail was about
two-thirds full, and returned the hose to its storage place. The eight pounds
of weight pulling on my balls felt very heavy. This was definitely going to be
bad!
"Well, it looks like everything's in its proper place," she said cheerily,
retrieving the paint stirrer from the table behind me. "Let me just make sure
that all is secure." Using the stirrer, which was hardwood, about twelve inches
long by two inches wide, and about an eighth of inch thick, she lifted up and
then released the cord from my balls to the ladder, which was being held very
tautly by the pail of water. She lifted it about three inches and, when she
released it, allowing the pail to drop suddenly, I grunted loudly. Pleased, she
stuck the stirrer under the chain between my nipples and pulled it slightly away
from my chest, watching my reaction. Then she slid the stirrer behind my cock
and forced it away from my belly. My eyes must have told her that it hurt, and
that was clearly the response she was after.
"Looks like you're not going anywhere for a while," she said, "and your balls
aren't going to be moving a great deal, either. "That's important, because I
wouldn't want to miss them, would I?" I didn't think a response was called for,
and didn't want to waste any of the energy I was sure to be needing for the
upcoming ordeal.
"Okay. You understand why you are being punished. Correct?"
"Yes. I understand."
"And you understand that you are to receive two hundred smacks to your balls
with this little stick?" She was unable to stand directly in front of me
because of the stepladder. She stood very close, just to my right, and watched
my eyes, closely.
"That 'little stick' looks pretty intimidating to someone in my present
situation," I responded, somewhat truculently.
"I'll ignore that smart remark," she said. "I'm going to start, now. I must
say that your balls look like they're just begging to be hit, all stretched out
in front of you like that. Is the weight from the pail causing you discomfort?"
"Yes. A great deal!"
"Too bad. Your cock still looks like you could cut diamonds with it, so it
can't be too awful. Maybe the spanking will help you forget about the weight.
Let's see."
Since she was left-handed, she walked around behind me to my left side. She
rested the flat stick lightly atop my bound testicles for a moment, then raised
it about a foot above them and struck downward, sharply.
SMACK!!!
"Ahhh!" I exclaimed.
"I'll bet that really stings. That was a loud impact." As always, she was
watching my eyes. She delivered a second smack without warning, extracting
another loud yelp from me.
"You can make all the noise you want. We're miles from the nearest neighbor,"
she advised, cheerily.
I was already starting to breathe a little rapidly. I knew this was going to be
bad.
She gave me eight more smacks, in rapid succession, and seemed pleased that I
was able to limit my response to a few sharp releases of breath. "There.
You've had ten, already. How are your little eggs doing>"
"This is a lot worse than I had imagined. I'm not sure I can take this. My
balls feel like they're on fire! Are you sure there's no bleeding?"
This was met with ten more implacable smacks, delivered with a couple of seconds
between each blow. I had suddenly started to perspire, with rivulets of sweat
rolling down my chest and sides. My bondage allowed me no movement, whatsoever,
so I just had to hang there while my balls were tortured. I had jerked back,
involuntarily, in response to a couple of the blows, but the resulting pain to
my, already stretched to the limit, testicles caused me to carefully resist any
reflex-based responses. I wanted to be as still as possible, and I wanted this
ordeal to be over as quickly as possible.
She administered thirty more resounding smacks, from my left side, then walked
behind me to my right side to "change the angle of attack." Still using her
left hand, she delivered another fifty blows from that side. I was emitting a
low-pitched sigh with each strike, now, so she paused after completing the first
hundred smacks to evaluate my condition.
"It looks like they're starting to swell up a bit," she mused, fondling my
tightly stretched sac. "They're definitely turning a darker color, but I'm
pretty sure that's just from the lack of circulation caused by the tightness of
the cord that is stretching them." From my pained reaction to the light touch
of her fingers, it was obvious my balls had become extremely sensitive.
"Are you doing OK?" she asked me. "I don't want to do you any permanent
damage." She seemed genuinely concerned.
"I don't know," I responded. "Every time you hit them, it feels like a hot
knife has been stuck right through them. Even the light touch of your fingers
feels like fire to me. The funny thing is, I haven't started to get even a hint
of that dull, aching sensation that I associate with getting hit in the balls.
I figured that would be the hardest thing to deal with. Actually, I thought I
might have to worry about becoming nauseous...but that hasn't happened."
"That's because I've tied them so tightly in their sac. If I'd let them hang
loose and started beating on them, it wouldn't have stung so much, but you would
probably gotten sick a long time ago. Sting is much better than thud, any time.
Still...I'm starting to get worried. How about we negotiate a compromise? I'll
give you twenty more smacks...real hard ones...then I'll untie your balls and
see about getting you that orgasm I promised. What do you think?"
"What about my side of the compromise?" I asked. I knew, from painful
experience, that Maggie gave no relief for free.
"Well..." she grinned. "You'll have to let me put something on you that will
make it more difficult to cum, and very painful for you, if you are able to get
off."
"What kind of 'something' are you talking about? Not those damned clothespins,
again?" I was referring to the previous Saturday when, before she finally made
me cum, in front of the other three girls, she had placed ten plastic
clothespins on the sensitive ridge around the head of my cock. They had
serrated grips, so they would not be accidentally dislodged. I hadn't
appreciated the nastiness of her intentions until her skillful hands had brought
me to the edge of cumming. The clothespins had been painful enough, jangling
around while she stroked on my cock but when I felt the first surge of
ejaculation I felt unimaginable pain from the pins. My cock, naturally enough,
tried to expand to its fullest size with each orgasmic surge. The clothespins,
tightly gripping their little bits of ultra-sensitive skin, would not open
wider, thereby causing intense, searing pain from their bites. Each time I
surged, which was many, as she skillfully milked me completely dry of cum, I
felt an absolutely incomparable mixture of overwhelming pleasure, mixed with
excruciating pain. I definitely did not wish to experience that sensation
again, so soon at least, and said so.
"I promise," she said. "No clothespins will be involved. It's something else
I've wanted to try on you. You know I won't give you all the details until
you've agreed. There has to be some element of surprise, after all. Now,
decide! It'' either twenty more smacks to these tender little babies," she
fondled my balls lightly, eliciting a wince of pain from me, "followed by a hand
job, or, it's 100 more smacks, and who knows how you'll be feeling at that
point? Make up your mind. I don't want to take all day with this."
"You leave me with little choice," I said resignedly. "I'm afraid 100 more
smacks from that nasty little stick might just do me some permanent damage.
I'll take my chances with the twenty smacks and the masturbation."
"Yeah, that's a tough choice, but I think you made the right one. Okay, I'm
going to give you twenty more, ten from each side. Here we go!
Each of the twenty was harder than any that had gone before. She was making
sure she got her money's worth out of these last few blows. She allowed about
fifteen seconds between each impact, giving me time to appreciate the pain of
each, as it was delivered, then time to anticipate the pain of the next She was
truly an accomplished sadist!
When they were finally over, she quickly tipped the pail of water, spilling it
onto the patio deck and relieving the strain on my punished testicles. After
untying the rawhide from the pail's handle, she gently worked the loop around my
nut sac looser...not without difficulty because the swelling of my balls had
made the cord dig in severely...then pulled it off and discarded it. She
massaged my balls lightly, allowing them to find their normal location in their
sac, before releasing them and starting on my cock and nipples. She got my cock
free first. She untied its supporting cord from the nipple clamp chain, then
loosened the loop behind its darker and shinier crown and freed it from
restraint, allowing it to drop to its normal position between my wide-spread
legs. The nipple clamps were last, and had been on for so long, and under so
much tension, that I gasped with shock when they were removed and blood began to
circulate where they had been.
My arms were very tired from being stretched high above me for so long, but I
knew, from experience, that she would keep me tied like this until she got me
off.
"I have to get a couple of things from inside," she said, "and I need this
pail." She went inside the house, leaving me to puzzle over her intentions for
me. I had no idea how she would contrive to make my orgasm both difficult and
painful, but I was certain her imagination was up to the task.
I was alone for only a few minutes when she returned with the pail full of ice
and water, a tube of KY jelly, and something else in her hand that I couldn't
see. She set the pail in front of me, laid the KY beside it, then showed me
what else was in her hand. I recognized them right away, and thought they
looked very innocuous. There were four of them. They were little white plastic
rings...the type that remain on the neck of a two-liter soda bottle when you
unscrew the cap. She had managed to work them off of some of the bottles in the
recycling container, I guessed, but still didn't see what she had in mind. A
closer look revealed that they were each lined with little plastic spikes,
flexible, but quite sharp, and I began to develop some serious concern for my
immediate welfare.
Acknowledging my worst fears, she began to explain. "These are from old
two-liter soda bottles, but you've probably already figured that out. The
little teeth inside them aren't quite sharp enough to break the skin, but they
are plenty sharp enough to cause a lot of pain to sensitive skin, and the head
of your cock is covered with VERY sensitive skin. I won't be able to get them
on properly, unless your cock is a lot less erect than it is right now. That's
what the ice water is for. Let's see if we can make that 'swelling' go down."
She was enjoying her little joke tremendously as she picked up the pail, moved
between my wide-spread legs, and completely submerged my genitals in the icy
cold water. I cried out from the shock of the cold, but was helpless to move my
cock and balls away from the freezing temperature they were now feeling. She
held the pail there for much longer than I would have thought necessary but,
when she did finally remove it, my erection was just about gone.
"That should do it," she said. "Now let's get these on you while things are a
little smaller and easier to deal with." She took each of the rings, one at a
time, and positioned them on the crown of my cock, a proposition that was, in
itself, quite painful. She placed them over the tip, worked them down
underneath until they rested on my frenum, then slid the other side down the top
of my crown until they could go no further. When she had finished, she had all
four rings lined up, one after the other, forming a very painful, cigar
band-like ring, a little more than a half-inch wide, right around one of the
most sensitive places on my body. The sharp little spikes dug in nastily,
causing me significant discomfort.
"Just wait until your cock gets hard, again," she grinned. "Those little things
are going to hurt like crazy!"
They already did hurt like crazy, I thought, and would become excruciating if my
cock got hard. I couldn't even imagine cumming with them on me. The pain might
actually make me crazy, in a similar fashion to the pain caused by the
clothespins I had been worried about. It was obvious, however, that the little
spikes wouldn't break the skin. She might have come up with something that
would, indeed, make it very hard for me to have an orgasm. At the moment, at
least, I hadn't the slightest interest in cumming.
She, of course, was determined to bring me off, spectacularly. She was quite
proud of this little idea and was anxious to see if it had the effect she
thought it would. Squeezing a large amount of KY into her palm, she stood in
front of him and began to rub her palms together gleefully.
"Are you ready to ride?" she quizzed me. This is going to be a whole LOT of
fun!" She began a slow, skillful stroking of my cock with her left hand, gently
milking my sensitive balls with her right. To my horror, I felt my cock begin
to harden, almost immediately. The sharp pain I felt on my cock head told me
how really bad this was going to be. She was an expert masturbatrix and, if she
wanted to make me come, nothing would stand in her way.
She worked me a little harder, sliding her hand up and down my shaft with the
glistening lubricant. Watching my eyes, I knew she could see that I was already
beginning to climb that slippery slope that she would force me to slide down,
when she was ready. After a few minutes, she released me and watched my, now
fully erect, cock bob around in space like it had a mind of its own. She resumed
her stroking, taking me closer and closer to the edge. I knew I was helpless to
resist what was happening to me. I was about to blow and I knew it would
probably be the most exquisitely painful ejaculation I had ever experienced.
The pain I was feeling from the little spikes was already much worse than the
clothespins had been when he had ejaculated! When I came, my cock would have no
room to expand and the spikes would dig into me savagely! I had no choice but
to resign myself to it and wait for her to take me over the top.
When I exploded, I screamed aloud! It felt like my cock was being crushed by a
crown of needles! I could actually feel my body trying not to respond to the
irresistible urge to ejaculate, but to no avail. Maggie expertly milked me,
slowly and surely, until I could cum no more, while I sighed and moaned in agony
mixed with pleasure. When I finally stopped surging, she scooped up some of my
semen on her fingers, then placed them in my mouth.
"Here you go. Taste yourself," she said humorously. That was pretty wild, huh?
Now I'm afraid I've got a bit of bad news for you. I won't be able to get those
rings off you until you're soft, again. If I tried to take them off now, you
wouldn't like the result. How about I untie you, retie your hands behind your
back, and take you inside? Do you think you could find a way to get me off,
without using your hands?" She was grinning broadly. "If you do, I'll get some
little scissors and cut those rings off. Otherwise, you'll just have to wear
them until the 'swelling' goes down. That could take quite a while, given the
level of sexual excitement these sessions seem to generate in you. Who knows?
You might even get sexually excited again while you're trying to get me off."
Her grin grew larger. "You'd beg me to cut those rings off then, huh?"
She untied the ropes pulling my ankles apart, then stood on the stepstool to
release my wrists, which I allowed her to retie, behind my back. Grabbing my
cock, she took me into the house like a naked pull toy, looking forward to her
orgasm.
According to Maggie, my performance inside was nothing short of spectacular. I
did become very erect, while getting her off, and she kept her promise to cut
off the little rings. What a relief that was! While we were coming down from
the experience, Maggie spoke. I know I said I'd cook for you, and I will. I've
got one more little thing I'd like to try on you, first. I think I should go
ahead and get it over with, then we can have the rest of the day and evening to
enjoy ourselves. What do you think?"
"Well," I said, "my balls are still a little sore, but other than that I guess
I'm ready for anything. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to
getting you into a real bed, tonight."
"And so you shall," Maggie replied, with a bright smile. "But first, let's go
back out to the patio. I'm really anxious to try this next idea out on you."
"Won't you give me some idea of what it is?"
"You know better than that," she said. "Not until I've got you helpless to
resist."
With that, she led me back out to the patio and directed me to place the chaise
lounge in a central location. Once I had done so, she had me lie on my back on
it and proceeded to tie me spread-eagled to the lounge. Shortly, she had me
securely bound, still naked, and, of course, somewhat curious as to what she had
in mind. I was pleased to see that my penis was still semi-hard, even after all
of the attention she had been giving to it. Maggie gave my cock a quick pat
with her left hand, just to make sure I was paying attention, then she squeezed
my sore testicles very hard, using both hands to put pressure on the helpless
orbs. I reacted precisely as she must have expected, gasping in unexpected
pleasure at the pat, then crying out helplessly as she brought excruciating pain
to my balls.
"There'll be quite a bit more pain for you in a few minutes," she said,
pleasantly. "Just let me get a few things from the house. She was gone for a
few minutes, then returned to stand over me holding some very interesting
looking gear in her hands. "This is a TENS unit," she explained. "With this
and a few accessories that I've been able to obtain, I can cause a great deal of
electric current to pass through various parts of your body. I plan to restrict
those parts of your body to ones below your waist, of course. I wouldn't want
to do any unexpected permanent damage, just want it to be as painful as
possible, without doing any real harm. These things," she held the TENS unit in
front of me, "were originally designed for medical purposes. They were used to
put electrical current through some large muscle groups for the lessening of
pain from seizure. The instructions say that the pain can really be intense,
and they're not talking about hooking the thing up to anything as tender and
sensitive as your cock and balls. I guess we'll just have to see, won't we?"
She brought out a length of thin rope and began to tie it around the base of my
genitals, then she carefully separated my testicles with the rope, and wound it
around the base of each, several times. When she was finished, I had an
enormous erection but my cock was separated from my balls by rope, then they
were separated from each other by more of the same. She liked the way it looked
and said as much. I was quiet, as was my custom at times like this. I was
somewhat afraid of electricity, having experienced some fairly severe static
electric shocks in the wintertime when living in different climes. I had never
experienced the direct current from a TENS unit, however, and was somewhat
curious as to what its effect would be on me. I had heard of TENS, of course,
just never seen one.
"Now, before I get started below your waist, I think we need just a bit of
something up here, to balance things out." She tweaked my nipples as she said
this, then she produced a pair of plastic surgical forceps type clamps. She
carefully applied the clamps to my nipples, making sure she had only the flesh
of the nipple tip in the grasp of the clamp's mouth before tightening it to the
first adjustment. I sighed when she stopped there, for a time, at least. The
clamps hurt badly at this level, but each had four remaining levels of
adjustment and each of the levels definitely brought a new meaning to the words
'nipple pain.' I was fairly certain that Maggie would not fail to explore those
levels, but was relieved that she had stopped at the most reasonable level for
the time being
"Now, then, let's get you hooked up. Shall we?" Her sweetly smiling face
belied the intense level of emotion I knew she had to be feeling. She loved the
fact that I was willing to surrender to her, and she truly enjoyed pushing me to
new limits of painful suffering.
She rummaged around out of my sight for a moment, then turned back to me with
several things in her grasp. Placing all but one of them beside me on the
chaise, she began to place an adjustable band around my left testicle.
"These are for your balls," she explained as she tightened it, securely. "They
will allow the current to pass directly between them, but you'll find out how
they work, won't you?" She placed an identical band around my right testicle
and then tightened them both so there was no chance I could shake them off.
"Now, we need something for your cock, as well. I've got just the thing right
here." With that she placed a solid band about the base of my penis and
tightened it into place. Then she took another, smaller and more flexible band
and threaded it around the head of my cock, then back through its own base,
forming a secure loop that wound tightly around my cock head. "I think if we
get this stuff all connected to the TENS unit, we can really light you up, now,"
she said with a grin.
With that she picked up some connectors from the chaise and began to snap them
into receptacles that dangled from each device. When they were secure, she took
the other ends of the leads, which ended in bright metal plugs, and plugged them
into the TENS unit. "The unit is set up to allow me to use two currents at the
same time," she smiled. "Are you ready for this?"
"I'm not really sure," I replied, somewhat hesitantly. "Are you sure this won't
do any permanent damage?"
"I'm going to make you regret even thinking that, much less saying it out loud,"
was her reply. "If you don't trust me to be positive about such things, why do
you let me get you in these predicaments?"
"I'm sorry, truly sorry," I said. "I've just never had any experience with any
of this and the thing scares me quite a bit."
"You are definitely entitled to be scared," she was smiling sweetly at me now.
"This is going to hurt a lot...a whole lot!"
With that she turned on the juice, which, I was to later learn, was supplied by
a nine-volt battery, contained inside the unit. "I'm only going to take you up
to level four for now," she said pleasantly. "It will go up to level ten, just
so you know." She slowly turned each side of the TENS unit up to the fourth
level, watching my reaction carefully.
At first I didn't feel a thing, though I certainly wasn't going to say as much,
then it began to make itself felt. I felt a throbbing sensation in my balls and
cock which was unlike anything I had ever felt before. It was bearable, but
only just! Then the character of the current seemed to be changing, becoming
even more noticeable, and I realized she was adjusting some other controls on
the unit. Finally, I felt as though each of my balls, and my cock as well, was
being slammed by an invisible fist, rhythmically and with an undercurrent of
burning from the electricity. She was watching me, carefully, and seemed quite
satisfied at the effect the current was having.
"There, now," she was smiling again. "How does that feel?'
"It's quite painful, actually. I hope you'll reconsider going any farther up
the dial."
"Nonsense!" she said, calmly. "It's not even halfway to the top. You shouldn't
be feeling more than just a tickle." She let me see her turning each of the
little knobs to the fifth level, and smiled at me, once more.
"Owww!" I yelped. "Please stop! That really hurts!"
"Then this ought to feel really good," she said, turning each of the dials to
the sixth level and watching my reaction to the pain with interest. My cock was
rock hard, probably harder than it had ever been before, and it was leaking a
steady stream of pre-cum as the current bit into my genitals mercilessly.
"You're going to cum from this," she said evenly. "It's just a question of how
high I have to turn it up and for how long. Let's try level seven." She
twisted each of the little knobs up another level then stepped back, watching
carefully. Finally, as though she suddenly realized what was missing, she
reached for each of my nipple clamps and cranked them all the way to the fifth
position, eliciting snorts of pain from me and, sure enough, a steady stream of
cum began pouring out of my cock. Seeing that, she twisted the dials on the
TENS device back to the sixth level and gave me a moment's respite.
"I think you can do that again. What do you think?"
"No way," I blubbered. "That didn't even feel as though I came, at all."
"Exactly!" she exclaimed. "You come, but you don't enjoy it! I think it's a
terrific way to punish you. Let's take the clamps off your nipples for a few
minutes then we'll give it another go after you've rested a bit." She carefully
removed the clamps, placing them on the chaise, beside me, within easy reach.
I simply rested, as she had suggested. I certainly didn't want another bout
with the electricity and clamps, but I didn't see any way of avoiding it. She
would amuse herself with me until she was through, and that was it. That was
all I knew for sure and, in the meanwhile, the surging current at level six
wasn't giving me much of a rest. I was still as hard as ever, in spite of the
copious amount of sperm I had surrendered.
Finally, after about ten minutes of so-called "rest," she signaled that she was
ready to begin once more by replacing the clamps on my nipples. This time she
set them to the second stop. Then she turned the current from the TENS unit
back to seven and began watching me, again. It was obvious that seven wasn't
going to get it done, so she took me up to eight on the TENS before tightening
the clamps to their maximum and forcing a smaller, but still copious, amount of
sperm from my wracked body. She allowed all the sperm to stop flowing before
turning the machine back to six and removing the nipple clamps once more.
"You should be good for a couple of more bouts, at least," she said. "Then I
promise to get busy in the kitchen. This is definitely making me both hungry
and horny."
True to her word, she took me to the very top level on the TENS for two more
wracking episodes. Each time she replaced and tightened the nipple clamps to
their maximum in conjunction with my coming. By the time I had finished the
final expulsion, I was quite weak. I had come four times, almost totally
depleting my body of semen, yet had experienced no pleasure, whatsoever. She
disconnected the TENS unit and removed the devices from my cock and balls, then,
to my surprise, she worked my penis to another erection.
"Now I'll have some real fun," she said, as she mounted me. "I've got a man
with a hard-on and no real ability to have an orgasm. What a concept!"
I sighed and acknowledged that she had founda terrific way to ensure she had her
pleasure, as I began to pump away in her body. The smile on her face was my
best reward.
Maggie kept her word, preparing an exquisite meal for us, which we enjoyed still
naked. Finally, we did adjourn to her bedroom where, to my amazement, I found
the ability to get hard again, and was able to fully make love to her, without
ropes or gadgets, for the first time. It was as marvelous as I had been sure it
would be.
We've been married for a couple of months, now. I'm a full partner in her
father's firm and we still occasionally see one or more of the girls who had
helped Maggie on that first weekend, so long ago. They smile and nod, but are
content to keep the knowledge of our past to themselves.
We are comfortable married folks, but we still enjoy an occasional afternoon in
the woods of her father's estate. I'm always naked and helpless, and Maggie can
still come up with some amazing things to do to me that make me realize how
lucky I am to have found her. She's a beautiful, assured wife, but when we're
alone she's the evil dominatrix that I have no power to resist.
