Of course, the barn bondage could have turned out very badly

Of course, the barn bondage

could have turned out very badly 

Chapter 1

meat — with a lower case “m,” his online slave name — could not possibly know how his first encounter with Sona would turn out as his aging Maxima slalomed and side-slipped down the snow-covered one-lane road in the forests of western New Jersey to the GPS coordinates that she had provided.  The fat flakes of falling snow reduced visibility to a few dozen feet despite the metronome-like swish-swish of his wipers. He would have never been able to find this isolated place without a Garmin.

He was thankful for front-wheel drive and his decision to mount winter tires this year.  Walking barefoot for a quarter of a mile through 4-inch deep snow to seek help from some stranger to free his snowbound car would challenge even his darkest sexual fantasies — not to mention how problematic it would be to explain why he had no shoes or socks. Sona had ordered him to travel to her barefoot. Slaves are not permitted to wear shoes, she had written. His cock got hard when she affirmed the first rule. He would never have considered disobeying her.

The winter tires and the front-wheel drive kept the Nissan passably straight and moving

forward until he saw the ghost-like barn materialize out of the fading light and the falling snow — pale and pastel at first, then deeper red as his Maxima approached it.  The barn had a traditional gambrel roof steeply sloped, perhaps 40 feet above the ground. 

His car approached the barn end on.  Cut out of the native stone foundation from which the wooden structure ascended, he could see the oversized sliding doors in the center of the side wall through which a tractor could drag behemoth farm implements out of the elements. At the end of the barn closest to his car was a smaller walk-in “Dutch” door, split into halves top and bottom.

What was left of the one-lane road ran out 100 yards from the barn, where the two strands of electrified wire that comprised the livestock fence formed a crude gate with slender matching fence poles, the opening was about twice the width of his car.  If the road continued up to the barn, the snow hid any indication of it.  But that didn’t matter anyway because a steel farm gate was closed and padlocked across the opening.  He would be forced to walk barefoot through the ankle-deep from where he had stopped his car. 

Chapter 2

He looked around for signs of company.  No light emerged from the barn.  The snow on the ground between his car and the barn was undisturbed. Apparently meat was alone.  The idea troubled him.  He considered turning the car around and going home, except his cock stiffened. Sona’s orders on the CD she had sent him had been explicit.  He wanted to hear her voice again. He picked up the silvery disk from the passenger seat and fed it into the slot in his dash.  The clock in his head counted off the few seconds that passed while the disk powered up to speed then Sona’s voice oozed out of the Maxima’s Bose speakers, deep, rich and dominant, but at the same time feminine and very erotic.

“When you arrive at the barn, buckle the enclosed leather dog collar around your neck. Remove your car key from the ignition then use the combination padlock to lock your car key to the D-ring on the collar.”

He paused the CD then did as he was told. Sona had said when they negotiated his submission online that only she could have the combination if he was to be her slave. He clicked the padlock closed, locking his free will to the leather collar along with the key. He was committed.

Chapter 3

He didn’t need to listen to the CD again to know what she demanded that he do. He opened the glove box and took out the small pill bottle.  Inside the bottle were two blue pills, Viagra.  He opened the bottle, put it to his lips and threw his head back.  The pills plopped to the back of his throat, and meat swallowed them.  Then meat twisted the cap off his bottle of water and followed the pills with several gulps. 

After pausing 30 seconds to gather his courage, meat pushed the switch on the armrest that popped opened the trunk.  Then he opened his car door, swung around the body that no longer belonged to him, and stepped out into the snow, first his left foot then his right. The snow extruded between meat’s toes. The cold on his bare feet was penetrating.  His feet sank into the icy powder, packing it to not quite a half-inch deep beneath his soles.  He had to consciously will himself to move his feet. Hesitantly, meat pushed the car door closed behind him.

The clock in meat’s head started counting. Time was his antagonist now. Too soon the frigid snow would begin to feel like hot wax engulfing his feet.  He barefooted hurriedly to the back of the car and lifted the trunk.  Without hesitating, meat slipped out of his leather coat and peeled off his wool sweater, then dropped them both into the trunk.  He unfastened his jeans and pushed them down to his ankles.  He wore no underwear.  Sona had forbidden it.  He stepped out of his pants, snapped the clinging snow off them, dropped them in the trunk on top of his other clothes, then meat slammed the trunk lid closed.

The night air was cold, but the wind was still, so the flakes fluttered straight down.  His exposed skin swiftly melted the flurry of large flakes as they dropped onto it. The barn looked to meat like it was 300 torturous, snow-covered yards away.  He could feel the skin on the soles of his feet starting to burn. He knew the sensation was an illusion.  The brain had trouble expressing the pain difference between bare feet walking across sunbaked asphalt and bare feet trudging through four inches of new snowfall. He mustn’t delay, though.

The gate was close but it would be impassable anyway because of the chain and lock. Coils of barbed wire across the top of the gate discouraged him, naked as he was, from trying to climb over. He started for the electric fence.  One strand of wire ran parallel to the ground  about knee-high, the other came to just above his cock, now shrunken, cowed by the cold. He couldn’t tell by looking if the two wires were hot, so he had to assume they were. Stepping over the fence was not possible because the top wire was too high off the ground.  He had to slip between the wires. Meat bent over at the waist extended his arms straight out parallel to the wires and eased his naked body between the strands.  He extended his right leg and lifted it through, putting his foot back down onto the snow-covered ground.

He hesitated for moment to stabilizing himself with both feet on the ground and the bottom wire running between his legs less than an inch below his dangling cock and balls. 

Briefs would have been helpful at that moment, he thought.

Then meat shifted his weight, moving his body to the barn-side of the fence.  He lifted his left foot out of the snow, raised his leg and straightened it, pointing the toes to bring the appendage between the wires. His heel brushed against the top wire and a vibrating jolt of current raced the full length of his left leg across his hips and down his right leg to the snow-blanketed ground. He shrieked.  The thigh muscle in his right leg spasmed.  The leg buckled beneath him. His carefully balanced body dropped. Then his cock and balls came down on the electric wire, creating a new path for the electricity to follow, through his genitals and hips and down his leg. The pain of the electrical shock was entirely unexpected.  Meat’s hand shot to the ground to catch himself as he fell.  When the hand touched the snow, the electricity reversed its course, grabbing his cock and balls again then shooting up his abdomen to his chest, to his shoulder then down his arm.  The big muscles in his right arm spasmed just as his leg had and it buckled as well.  He tumbled through the fence into the snow onto his back.  His arms and legs cleared the electric fence, and he was through.

Chapter 4

He remained still for a moment taking stock of his condition despite the shock of finding the flesh of his torso in the snow.  The electric jolt had passed. His right arm and both legs worked again. “Crap!” meat said then pushed himself off the ground. He brushed away the loose snow he could reach and scurried barefoot, naked and cold, but mostly unscathed, toward the shelter of the barn.

By the time he reached the Dutch door his feet were numb. He pulled open the door, relieved to find that it would open and stepped in to the barn where he slapped his feet, one at time, against the dirt floor to dislodge the snow. His feet were still felt icy, but the barn floor felt warmer than the snow cover outside, even though he knew it probably wasn’t.

Inside the barn was too dark to see more than six feet into the doorway.  Sona had said he would find bondage equipment inside with which he was to prepare himself.  He turned back to the open door and saw the electric fence energizer sitting on a rustic shelf against the wall about 6 feet from the door.  Its power cord was plugged into another device sitting next to it that looked more high tech, but whose function he could not immediately discern in the dim light. Perhaps it is a timer, meat thought. The cord to the high tech device dropped down from the shelf and was plugged into a wall socket mounted on a thick, age-darkened , wall stud, 12 inches above the dirt floor. The twin electrical leads attached to the electric fence energizer snaked sideways toward the beam to a white porcelain insulator screwed to the wood then angled up into the darkness to another insulators beyond which his eyes couldn’t follow. The direction was odd.  He would have expected the leads to go through the wall to power the electric fence that had thrown him to the ground earlier.

He turned back to the open doorway.  Beside it meat found an electrical switch bolted to the door frame.  The switch was a rotary timer, the type often used in bathrooms to turn off the radiant heater after 20 minutes. He turned the switch and immediately it began to tick and a single dim light bulb, 40 watts at the most, blinked on near the center of the barn. 

He pulled the Dutch door shut and a metal latch clicked into its hasp securing it.  Already his bare flesh felt warmer even though the temperature inside the barn was the same as the temperature outside.  At least he was sheltered from the snowfall.

He turned and stepped deeper into the barn.  The bulb in the distance lighted a 10-foot or so radius beyond which could have been a black hole, for all he could tell.  Then he saw the support beams at the edges of the circle of light, four of them. Each beam extended upward to support the open sides of two hay lofts, one on his right and one on his left, then continuing upward into the darkness, presumably to support the open beams of the gambrel roof. The beams extended from one end of the barn to the other, forming an open tunnel for him to follow, flanked by lofts.  Otherwise the ground floor of the barn’s interior, or as much of it as he could see, was open and empty.

He kept moving forward. When he was closer to the light he saw the orange glow of an electric space heater near the opposite edge of the circle of light.  In front of it, a spreader bar dangled at the end of a heavy chain that dropped out of the darkness from the invisible rafters. From each end of the spreader bar hung a suspension cuff dangling from an open padlock. 

Directly beneath the dangling spreader bar a one-inch black pipe jutted vertically from the floor where it was screwed into a steel flange bolted into a foot square concrete footing.  The pipe terminated in a black steel “T” a little below crotch height. Sona had called it the “torture T.” A 3-foot length of ¼-inch nylon cord was carefully draped over the steel “T.” 

Hanging by its head strap from the spreader bar was a T-shaped gag assembled from tough, white PVC pipe and folded neatly across the center of the bar was a spandex slave hood.

On the ground, parallel to the spread bar was a pair of heavy ankle cuffs padlocked to lengths of 3/8 inch chain extending from the cuff to a beam on the left and one on the right. The cuffs and chain stopped two feet short of reaching the steel pipe with the “T.” Near the right ankle cuff was foot switch.  Its power cable meandered off into the darkness.  That would be the winch control, he thought. 

Chapter 5

Sona’s instructions on the CD were unreal to him when she explained what he was to do in the barn, but the arrangement of the BDSM equipment suddenly rendered the extent of his voluntary submission quite real.  He closed his eyes and the vivid image of his naked, spread-eagled body caused his cock to swell.

If you want to be my slave, Sona had written in one of their e-mail exchanges. Then you must do what I order you to do.  Don’t obey because you find submission deeply arousing.  Your arousal doesn’t matter to me. Don’t obey because you trust me.  I am free to do whatever I want, and I don’t need or even want your trust. Obey because you are my slave and you don’t have a choice.

He felt his fear rising.  This is foolish, he knew. Oh, so foolish. He was naked in a snow storm, about to lock himself into restraints from which he would not be able to escape, in a barn in the middle of a wilderness where nobody would think to look for him, obeying the command of sadistic mistress he had never met and whom he could not be certain would even show up.  If Sona didn’t come, he would freeze to death and nobody would find him, perhaps until the spring thaw.

He could still leave.  He was still a free man. His car was still warm outside. His clothes were in the trunk.  He could flee, escape through the Dutch door, race back barefoot through the snow to the electric fence.  He shuddered, “Oh, God, the electric fence.”  But he could still cop out. He could always rely on just his fantasies for his sexual gratification…

But the car key padlocked to the collar around his neck took away those choices. 

He shrugged mentally.  He had come this far.  He wanted to be her slave.  He wanted Sona to be able to do whatever she wanted to do to him. He might never get again get the chance to bloom his masochistic fantasies into the flower of real sensations and exotic experiences.

He positioned himself on the opposite side of the steel post so he would be facing the door as Sona had commanded.  He could feel the heat on his back radiating from the space heater.  It warmed him a little.  Then he locked his left ankle into the ankle cuff.  The padlock clicked shut confirming his commitment. 

So, he spread his legs the 4 feet to reach the other ankle cuff. He adjusted his position until he was able to lock the right cuff in place as well. 

Next he had to tie his balls to the steel “T” atop the black steel pipe.  He picked up the nylon cord, doubled it once to even out the ends, then positioned the middle of the cord behind his scrotum, tied a triple-twisted knot in the cord so it would not loosen when he pulled it tight then drew it tight across the top of his balls until he could feel the burn in his scrotum. He waited for the burning to subside then pulled the cord tighter still and the burn returned.  He let the loose ends of the cord drop down, one end on each side of his balls, tied another triple twisted knot and pulled the new knot beneath his balls tight. He repeated the knots on top of his balls and bottom two more times, looping the cord round and round his scrotum, snugging each new knot.  The final knot, on the top side of his scrotum he tied off in a square knot so the cord could not loosen.  After his balls were wrapped, his scrotum was drawn into an improbably tight neck from which his balls protruded like two Grade AA eggs that had the skin stretched over them as if they had been skillfully upholstered in thin, tight flesh.

The loose ends of the cord hung down from the top knot on each side of his balls.  He lifted the cord over the top of the black steel “T” in front of him then put his hand under his balls and lifted them onto the “T.”  The steel pipe was bitingly cold, and he winced.

With his legs spread and secured, the pipe and the “T” on top of it was just the right height for his balls to clear.  He had to bend his knees only slightly. 

He took the ends of the cord in each hand, passed it around behind the pipe, tied a triple-twisted knot and pulled the cord until it drew his balls to the side of the “T” away from his body.  Then meat wrapped the ends of the cord around the fingers of each hand and pulled the knot tight until all he pulled out all of the slack.  His crotch rested on the “T” and balls were stretched over the front of it and immobilized by the cord.

He finished tying his balls to the steel “T,” bring the cord up between the steel and his crotch, then tying a knot across the top of his balls,  then dropping the cord down again to wrap and knot the cord repeatedly, tying his balls in multiple, redundant loops over to the steel “T.” When the ends of the cord were too short to loop around the pipe and his balls again, he tied off the ends on the back side of the pipe in his most secure knot. 

He did not know what Sona planned to do with his cock and balls but tied as they were, he had voluntarily given her a stationary toy with which to play or a fixed target for whatever sadistic device she wished to use.  His cock stiffened again.

This time his arousal was not only caused by the anticipation of the CBT he expected to experience in his near future.  The Viagra was kicking in.  He could feel the stiffness in his neck and the stuffiness in his nose starting — the side effects he was accustomed to.  He was fortunate that he didn’t also get the headaches from which some men suffered after taking the drug.

Very soon his cock would be trying to split its elastic flesh and throbbing from the double dose Sona had ordered him to swallow.  Not even the cold barn would be able to shrink his cock once that much drug was fully circulating through his blood stream. 

With his ankles secured and his balls tied to the torture “T,” it was time to complete his bondage.  Carefully he took down the left suspension cuff.  If he dropped one of the open padlocks he would never be able to reach it, even if he untied his balls, which he really did not want to do.  He pushed his hand through the cuff and pulled the wrist strap snug, then buckled it tightly enough that he would not be able to pull his hand loose.  Next he put his right hand through the other cuff and fastened it the same way.

The hood and gag had to go on before he could lock his wrists to the spreader bar.  He pulled the latex hood over his head and adjusted it so the blindfold completely blocked his vision.  The hood only had an opening where his mouth was, to accommodate a gag.  He opened his mouth and pushed the pipe gag into his mouth.  The gag was homemade but ingenious.  It was made from PVC pipe parts — a pipe nipple glued into the center opening of a “T” connector.  He had to force his mouth open as wide as possible to insert the nipple between his teeth.  Fully inserted his teeth cleared the end of the nipple inserted into the “T.”  Even without the head strap he would never be able to remove the gag without using his hands.

He panicked for a moment. With the gag inserted, his mouth was spread so wide he found he couldn’t breathe through his nose. Then he realized that the opening in the pipe provide an amply airway for him to suck in the cold barn air. Then he fastened the head strap at the back of his head with the spring clasp attached to it.  The gag was doubly secure.

Now that he was blind and mute. Securing his wrists would be the tricky part.  He would be forced to lock the cuffs to the spreader bar by touch.  One clumsy fumble of his cold fingers and he could drop a padlock.  If both hands were still free he might be able to recover the lock by undoing the bondage securing his balls.  However, if he succeeded in locking one wrist then fucked up and dropped the other lock he would not be able to complete his prescribed bondage.  Sona would be disappointed in him.  He did not want to disappoint his mistress.

He used his right hand to lock the suspension cuff’s D-ring on his left wrist to the eye bolt intended for at the end of the bar.  He took a breath to steady himself then cautiously positioned the padlock dangling from the eye bolt at the opposite end of the bar so the hasp was open. He slipped the remaining D-ring on his right cuff into the open locked, carefully swung the body of the lock to its locking position, then took the entire lock in his hand to press the hasp into its locking hole.  The first time the position was wrong and the lock wouldn’t close.  He set up the lock again, felt for the locking hole so he knew where to find it, then twisted the body of lock around again and squeezed it closed.  The lock snapped.  He was locked into a classic bondage position, spread-eagled helplessly and his balls were tied securely so both his cock and balls were utterly immobilized on the torture “T.”

Chapter 6

He had only one instruction left to complete.  That was to use the electric winch to raise the spreader bar until meat could raise it no farther.  He felt around with the toes of his right foot until he located the foot switch. He depressed the switch with his big toe.  He heard the winch hum somewhere behind him and immediately the spread bar began to ascend.  It rose slowly, stretching his arms straighter and straighter.  His shoulders lifted, then his torso began to raise.  Already he was uncomfortable. He took his toe off the footswitch, gathered his resolve, then found the switch again.  Again the spreader bar began to rise.  He felt his scrotum start to stretch, pulling at his balls then his heels lifted off the dirt floor, so he had to stand on his tiptoes. His toes slipped off the footswitch, and he couldn’t reach it any longer. 

His bondage was complete. He was blindfolded and gagged, naked in a cold New Jersey barn in a snow storm, semi-suspended with his balls tied to a torture-T. All he could do now was wait.

He wondered what Sona looked like.  Would her voice sound strong and commanding? What would she be wearing? 

He could feel his drug-stimulated cock bobbing in the freezing air. The stiff neck and stuffy nose were irrelevant now. 

The heat radiating on his back blink out, and he knew that the rotary timer had returned to zero and light and heater had turned off.

The pressure on his wrists and balls grew more painful at first, then the pain subsided as the slowed circulation and the cold air numbed them.

He called up his most erotic fantasies to help pass the creeping time.  He played various bondage fantasies over and over in his head.  He replayed his whipping, and cock and ball torture fantasies.  Each rehearsed fantasy pumped more endorphins through his blood stream, helped suppress the pain of his awkwardly stretched limbs, the cold on his flesh, and kept his cock throbbing.

He heard the Dutch door latch click.  A few moments later he could feel the heat on his back again.  The lights were on.  Sona was here!

Oh, god, he thought. What is she going to do to me?  The rising fear made his swollen cock bob more actively.

He felt fingers pinch his nipples then meat gasped when he felt the unmistakable pain of weighted nipple clamps as the fingers clipped one to each nipple and released it. The weights were heavy – several ounces he thought.  Once he had hung 18 ounces of lead fishing weights from wire clamps on each nipple for 15 minutes.  The pull of the weights was painful, but removing them had been unbearable. He gasped for a full two minutes. His nipples had been sore for a week after that. 

Fingers caressed his cock gently then he felt finger nails drag across the stretched skin of his balls.

Fingers were replaced by a tongue, unmistakably warm where it touched the ice cold flesh of his cock. The tongue left behind a meandering trail of moisture where ever it went, moisture that sucked even more cold air onto his bobbing cock.  He groaned with the pleasure of it.  Then his freezing cock slipped into a 98.6 degree mouth and lips closed around it. 

Please let it stay in that warmth forever, he thought.

The lips and tongue and enclosing mouth worked his cock, slowly and methodically at first. Soon he was panting through the gag. His arousal built quickly because of the extended foreplay of his self-inflected bondage. Before he wanted it, his orgasm came.  It was intense and he heard himself grunting behind the pipe gag as spasm after spasm of hot sperm shot into the greedy mouth. 

Then the orgasm was over and the hypersensitivity in the head of his cock started. He had never been able to tolerate the continued stimulation of his cock after orgasm because the nerves became so sensitive. 

The mouth didn’t stop sucking and pumping after he had emptied his balls. The lips and tongue became greedier, the mouth sucking even harder on the overstimulated glans, making meat shriek with the agony of pleasure that was too intense for him to handle. Had it not been for the pipe gag he would have promised anything if only Sona would stop. The pleasurable torture continued until the nerves in the head of his cock, one by one, stopped firing intensely pleasurable volleys to his brain. Finally, the mouth withdrew.

Exhausted, meat sagged in his bonds.  His cock was still Viagra hard, but his sexual tension had been sucked out of him through his cock.  His resolve quickly faded.  He wanted to quit, but the gag prevented him from communicating that desire to Sona.  So, he moaned through the gag, trying to make her understand that he didn’t want to be in bondage any more.

Sona didn’t seem to understand, he thought.  Or, perhaps she didn’t care what he wanted.  After all, he had given himself to her as a slave.  Why should she stop before she wanted to?

Chapter 7

Meat smelled the menthol odor of Deep Heat. A hand wrapped its fingers around his swollen cock.  He felt icy metal part the lips of his pee hole.  Slowly the pencil-thick metal slid into the tunnel that penetrated the length of his erection. He gasped as the hand massaged his cock, easing the probe deeper. Deeper and deeper it delved. The probe stopped when it filled the entire length of his erection, and he felt metal press against the tip of his cock.  The hand released his swollen flesh then he felt pressure as the probe extruded gel deep inside.  The probe withdrew a quarter of an inch and stopped.  He felt the pressure again.   The probe withdrew a little farther, followed by the pressure, again and again, methodically until the probe slipped from between the tiny lips of his cock head.

The sensation that his erection had been stuffed with dry icy started at the base of his cock then crept the length of him until meat’s cock felt like it was frozen to brittle crystal.  He moaned.  The sensation of his urethra being stuffed with dry icy slowly changed to fire. His cock felt as if it was being probed by the 6-inch-long working end of hot soldering iron. His erection burned from the inside out.  He screamed and his hips began thrashing, involuntarily trying to pull his cock away from the heat. His cock bounced and thrashed in the cold barn air.  His thrashing hips succeeded only in tugging cruelly at the cord that secured his balls to the steel T, stretching his scrotum painfully back and forth.

Something smacked sharply atop the head of his cock. The blow stung. The first blow was followed by another, then another.

The blows changed direction.  Now they snapped his cock right to left, then left to right. He wanted to beg his tormentor to stop and groaned inarticulately through the pipe gag. He was ready to pass out. Then the blows stopped.

He heard the whir of the winch. The leather wrist cuffs dragged his body higher into the frigid air.  His toes left the cold dirt floor, his cuffed ankles pulled further apart and the tension on his painfully stretched scrotum frightened him.  What if his scrotum tore and his balls squirted out of their sack. He grunted repeatedly through the pipe gag in a desperate attempt to communicate his distress.

The winch stopped.  His body dangled from the arm spreader in the erotic X shape that recurred so frequently in his fantasies.  But, never in his darkest wet dreams did he envision that the vulnerable X his suspended body formed would be anchored by his balls being tied to a steel pipe sunk in a concrete footing buried unyieldingly in the dirt floor. The weight of his body dangled from his aching wrists and meat’s balls burned as much from being stretched unnaturally as from the wicked liniment with which Sona had coated them.

He heard the swish, which was swiftly followed by the left side of his immobilized balls being stung.  He yelped. Another swish was followed by stings on the right side of his balls. He yelped again.  He tried to calm himself by imagining what kind of implement Sona tortured him with now, but the frequency of the stings accelerated — left, then right, left, then right, again and again, faster and faster.  He screamed until he was breathless. The speed of the stings became unbearable. He screamed again then the scream chased its own crescendo until it became a high-pitched shriek. He emptied his lungs, gasped for more air then shrieked even more shrilly than before.

Finally, the swishing and intolerable stinging stopped. He panted gratefully, grunting as he gasped to fill his starved lungs with the icy air.

The winch whirred again, but this time he felt his body descending. The pressure on his stretched scrotum eased. His toes touched dirt and he could take some of the weight off his wrists.  His hands were completely numb. Then he could stand flat-footed on the floor of the barn and the winch went silent again.

A hand seized the head of cock, squeezed and stretched his penis at the same time.  He felt cold metal touch the top of his cock just behind its head then the metal pushed down each side of his cock.  The fingers worked the loose skin behind meat’s cock head until the metal device straddled his cock like a rider sitting atop a compliant horse.  The fingers worked skillful near his frenum, doing something to the metal device that he couldn’t make out. When the fingers released his cock, it plopped a little heavier from the metal — some kind of ring, he surmised -- onto his tightly bound balls. For a few moments he could her Sona moving about in front of him.  God, he wished he could see what she looked like. Then his cock lifted again, but the fingers weren’t touching it.  She was moving his cock by the metal ring attached to it.  She pulled the ring, tightening it snugly against the rim of skin at the base of his cock’s head.  He surmised that she had attached something metal to the ring because his cock felt heavier, yet.

She released whatever she was holding, but his cock didn’t drop.  The ring and whatever it was attached to kept his cock suspended.  He heard clicking in front of him at the same time his cock was pulled that same direction. Apparently she had tied his cock to a winch in front of him, he guessed. His cock stretched then stretched even further. His body arched to follow it until it could arch no more because his balls were still anchored to the steel T at the end of the pipe. 

The clicking stopped.

He felt a vibration through his cock.

What now? He thought.

Then a sense of deep foreboding swept through his spread-eagled body to the tips of numb fingers and nearly frozen toes.

He heard Sona’s footsteps receding in the barn.  Then the footsteps stopped. For a few seconds the barn was silent.

Chapter 8

When the electric current slammed into his cock and balls the fierceness of its power snatched away his breath so he couldn’t even scream. The current buzzed through his cock and balls like a silent vibrator for perhaps five seconds — time that seemed never to end.

The electricity stopped.  He sucked in a breath, then expelled it out of his lungs again in a long, shrill screech. 

Heard the Dutch door squeak on its rusty hinges then the latch clicked. He could just hear the scrunch of footsteps receding in the snow beyond the door.

Was that it? He asked himself.

Five minutes passed, then 10.  The clock in his head ticked off ever so slowly because bound as he was, he could do nothing but wait. At 15 minutes he felt the tingle of a weak electrical current on the bottom side of his sensitized balls.  The charge built steadily.  He gasped in a lungful of icy air.  The electricity lunged through his balls, charged the length of his cock and spewed out of the head like an orgasm conjured by Satan in the second circle of hell. Simultaneously, the screamed blew out of his lung and sustained itself.  The charge waned gradually to a trickle then faded to nothing. He panted, desperate to replace the oxygen his body had expelled.

Fifteen more minutes passed.  This time the current slammed him in the groin hard enough to kick his hips back. The force of the spasm yanked his cock against the metal collar that ensnared it and cruelly wrenched his ball sack.  The current caught him with his breath expelled and grabbed his crotch so hard he couldn’t inhale to even scream. 

This one lasted.  He didn’t know how long because the clock in his head winked out like he had been sucked passed the event horizon into a black hole.  He lost consciousness. 

When he awoke, the electricity was gone, his legs had gone limp, and he was dangling by the wrists and his balls.  He got his legs under him to take the weight off his balls. The clock in his head was useless now because he had no idea how long he had been out. The electricity might return any second.  The possibility terrified him.

Four minutes later the current surged through his cock and balls again. He filled his lungs to scream again. This time the electricity lasted only a second, but a second after that, the current slammed his genitals again.  Two seconds of hell ticked by. The surge of current winked off for two seconds.  Then the shock grabbed his genitals again – one second, two seconds, three, then four. He just started to scream when the current vanished.  Four seconds later the electricity slammed his balls again. At four seconds his scream erupted.  At eight seconds the current was gone again. 

The electro torture was terrifying enough, but the on again, off again repetition, doubling each time horrified him.  He wouldn’t be able to tolerate much more, he thought. But the electro torture continued – 16 seconds, then 32, then 64. 

His screaming made his throat raw. He yanked desperately at his wrist and ankle cuffs, but they would not yield. Predictably the next surge of current started a little over two minutes later and lasted 128 seconds. He was hyperventilating by the time the electricity stopped and he continued to hyperventilate through the next two minutes until the current lit up his cock and balls again.  Halfway through the 256 second burst he passed out. 

He would never know if the nine minute power surge ever came or the 18 minute one that would surely have followed that.  He regained consciousness, still hanging by his wrists with his cock and balls still bound to the steel T, and immediately smelled the acrid odor of ether.  The saturated cloth covered the openings in the pipe gag and a few seconds later meat slipped again into unconsciousness.

Chapter 9

When he awoke he was groggy, disoriented and shivering uncontrollably.  His jaws ached from hours of being forced apart by the pipe gag. 

He found himself in a naked heap on the dirt floor of the barn.  The spandex hood still covered his eyes.  But, his arms and legs were no longer bound. His fingers were stiff with the cold, and he couldn’t feel his toes. He released the spring clip and unstrapped the pipe gag, working it past his teeth and out of his mouth.  Then he pulled off the spandex hood so he could see again. Muted day light glowed through cracks in the barn’s roof and siding. 

His arms ached terribly, but he was able to put enough weight on them to push into a sitting position.  As his body rose he heard the combination lock from his collar plop to the ground open, followed by the clatter of his car keys.

More than anything else he wanted to examine his cock and balls to determine whether they were badly burned by the cruel electro torture and would require medical attention.  Even with the light flowing through the many cracks in the barn inside was still too dark.

He wrapped his frozen fingers around his keys then slowly, he struggled to get to his feet. He was wobbly from the strain of being spread-eagled for so long.  His thigh muscles burned from over-exertion, but his legs also felt strong and he was confident that he could walk. He turned in place until he found the doorway through which he had entered and groggily shuffled toward it on partially numb feet.

When he reached the Dutch door, he pushed open the top half.  The daylight hurt his eyes.  The gray clouds hung low over the crown of the trees, but the snow had stopped falling.  Fresh snow had covered the tracks had made coming to the barn and the second set, Sona’s footprints, were also gone, covered over by freshly fallen snow. He could see his car also topped with snow, 400 feet away on the opposite side of the electric fence where he had parked it.

He groaned.  To reach his car, he would be forced to cross the snow-covered ground barefoot and naked as before, but through knee-deep snow, now.  And somehow he would have to get to other side of that wicked fence. He had had enough of electricity to last until next winter. Perhaps he could slide under the bottom wire.

He pushed open the bottom of the Dutch door and stepped out into the snow.  His feet were numb enough that the powder-like snow felt almost warm as it squished between his toes. He trotted across the distance to the fence then paused to evaluate the distance between the ground and the bottom electrical wire.  The snow cover disguised the distance, so he shoved his right foot deep into powdery white then compared the height of the wire to his shin.  The wire reached the bottom of his knee. If he stretched out prone in the snow, he should be able to slip safely under the wire.

He lined himself up with the wire on his left side then paused to work up the courage to lie back in the snow.  God, he didn’t want to do this, but he couldn’t stay where he was.  He sat down in the snow.  The shock of the cold engulfed his ass and surrounded his cock and balls.  He put his hands on the ground behind him and eased himself onto his back. Jesus, the snow was cold. He inspected the wire and saw that his body would avoid the wire by perhaps an inch.  He let the air out of his lungs and scooted sideways under the wire being careful to keep his head and his hips down. Then he was on the other side.  He thrust himself to his feet and paused to brush the snow off his shivering flesh as best he could, then he turned and trotted to the car.  He opened the door and scooted onto the seat.  His numb fingers fumbled with the key but finally shoved it into the ignition and turned it.  The engine fired to life.  He set the heater to maximum heat and maximum fan, knowing that only cold air would blow out until the motor warmed up.

His clothes were in the trunk.  He would have to get out of the car again to retrieve them.  He decided not to wait until the heat was coming out of the vents.  He pushed the trunk release, shoved open the door and stepped out into the snow once more. 

He lifted the trunk lid.  Snow plummeted off the trunk lid into the trunk.  He stopped. His eyes swept the trunk.  His clothes were not there. Where his clothes had been was a plain white enveloped, sealed shut.  He picked up, slammed down the trunk lid and hopped back to the front of the car. 

Inside, he sat shivering behind the wheel until hot air began to blow out of the vents and the snow-wrapped interior of the Maxima began to warm up.  When he could begin to feel his fingers again, he tore open the envelope and took out the note inside.  It was typewritten.

Be in this barn again in seven days — same time, same instructions.  Only next week, don’t wear any clothes. If you please me, slave, I may permit you to recover your missing clothing after I have tortured you. 

--Sona

The message took his breath away.  He had been excited about seeing Sona for the first time.  Instead she kept him blindfolded, and he had suffered her sadism instead. His libido swelled like an overstimulated cock, his chest tightened, and his vision darkened.  He closed his eyes and relived the torture he had just suffered. 

The cabin of the car was toasty finally.  He could flex his fingers.  His feet ached from the departing cold. He needed to go home, sneak in the backdoor. Hopefully his neighbors would not see him get out of his car naked. He looked at the snow covered windshield in front of him, then turned his head to examine the rear window.  Snow covered that view as well.  He steeled himself.  Pushed open his car door and swung his feet out into the snow again.  Using his bare hands he wiped the snow off the driver side of the windshield then moved around the car clearing snow from the windows as he went.  Back at the driver’s door, he clapped his hands together to knock off the clinging snow then opened the door and slid back into the car.

He put the Maxima into reverse and backed up in the first part of a three-point turn. Then meat turned the car down the path that had brought him.  The car slid one way then the other, but managed to move forward onto the snow-covered gravel road.

God, what I get stuck, he said to himself.

Sitting naked behind the wheel of his car, trying to keep it plowing straight through the snow covered road, he thought about Sona’s written command to give himself to her again next week.  Would she show herself to him next time? Did he crave being her slave so deeply? Could he tolerate being tortured again?

Of course, the barn bondage could have turned out very badly.