(ED) FATEFUL NIGHT

 

FATEFUL NIGHT

Written By: Stew Smith

Illustrated By: Eduardo

 

1) It was getting dark.  Joey and I had agreed to meet at seven, at his house.  His mother was away for the weekend, his father gone for many years.  I packed a duffel bag with
things I'd need, things I'd want to use, and things I secretly wanted used on me.  A quick bicycle ride and I was at my friend's house.  Joey's.

2) He answered the door when I knocked, waiting on me.  He was dressed in a white tee-shirt and blue jeans.  Let me tell you about Joey.  His name is Joe, really.  He's my age, just turned eighteen.  Red hair on his head, chest and arms.  Sort of like Gilgamesh.  He's a real mother, violent and aggressive.  I like that.

3) He ushered me in, and we walked around.  It used to be the two car garage, but they added a fireplace, and ended up with a huge everything room.  The sofa's had been pushed back, leaving a large open area of carpet in the middle. Our wrestling ring.

4) See, we like to wrestle.  Body against body, man to man.  We watched pro style on TV on Saturday nights, watching Kevin Von Erich and the other studs in Dallas.  In Jr. High we pretended to be those, and by high school, we just tussled.  Now was our senior year, and things turned serious.  We made a bet, winner take all.  We'd fight one Friday night, to submission.

5) It was only fair, seeing we never had no referee.  We'd just sweat and strain until some said "I give."  So anyway, one fight.  The winner could do anything to the loser for the night.  This was nothing new to us.  Several times we experimented with bondage after our fights. I guess I suggested it, after all, I'm the pervert.

6) So far so good.  The new thing was if the winner could get the loser to suck cock, the winner would own the loser until graduation, three months away.  It took some doing, but he signed a contract. Yeah, I know, it wouldn't have been binding, but all I really wanted was to get him excited to the prospect.  And he was excited.

7) That was it.  The winner tonight had until dawn to get the loser to suck cock, then the loser would be a slave for three months.  There were clauses about when, and how long, stuff to keep our parents in the dark.  I just wanted Joey to be my master for awhile.  Wanted so much I forgot the old adage, "Be careful what you wish for..."  Anyway, hindsight is 20/20.

8) It was Friday night, we were alone for the weekend, and my parents knew I would be 'occupied' until Sunday night.  We were set.  Step one: we each had purchased the outfit the other was to wrestle in.  This allowed us to make sure neither had extra layers
of protection, or illegal objects.  I pulled out Joey's thong, holding it up.  

9) It was a skimpy triangle of wet latex in the front, just strings for around his waist and up his butt.  Maximum exposure.
Black, benefiting his evilness.  I had tested it in the adult bookstore before purchasing it.  It would stand up nicely to the pressures it would be subjected to tonight.

10) Joey just smiled, a wicked grin, expecting such from me. Slowly, almost teasingly, he stripped off his tee shirt, revealing his buffed chest.  Let's face it, I'm a chest man.  Curly red hair matted his pecs, stretching down to his navel, on into his jeans. Lithe and muscular he was, more a worker's build than athletic or bodybuilding.

11) He caught the thong, giving it a once over before he set it aside.  Off came the well-packed jeans, turning to remove his underwear, flashing his butt at me but hiding his main equipment.

12) A quick jerk, and the thong was in place, artfully packaging his crotch, while exposing the rest of his body.  He smiled again, rearranging himself for a better fit.

13) He then rustled through his own sack on the sofa, pulling out a neon yellow something and throwing it at me.  "Don't get too attached to it, Studly, you won't be wearing it for long."
I spent a few moments examining my new clothing. Bright yellow, sort of like a speedo suit.  It had a full sized front and back, with about an inch on each side.  

14) It was spandex, possibly,like a wetsuit only lighter. Very form fitting. Fearing foul play,I checked the inside for Ben Gay or such, wondering at the generosity.  Something was up, I just couldn't guess what.
With a shrug I set it aside, pulling off my own shirt.  Jeans were next.

15)  When I came to the underwear, off it went. I didn't mind Joey seeing my crotch.  It's not like he's never mashed it and groped it before.  It also was like a small sign of defeat, like a foreshadowing of the way it would be.  Me open and exposed, him allowed the dignity of turning away.

16) I stepped into the suit and pulled it up.  Or rather tried. Almost immediately I knew it was too small. By several sizes. As I struggled to get it over my knees, Joey came over, grabbing the sides.

17) With a yank, he lifted me up by the trucks, gravity forcing me into them.  They adhered to me once they were in place, fitting like a second skin.  The waist and leg openings cut into the skin, my cock and balls grossly outlined by the stretchy fabric. I knew what the surprise was. He kept a hold of the sides, sticking his face into mine. "Ready, Studly?  Last chance to back out."  Like hell.

18) We circled each other in the den, both half hard and eyeing each other.  A flurry of hands and arms and I found myself locked between his chest and bicep, a headlock.  His chest and arm hair dug into the sides of my face, his skin not yet sweaty from the exertion.

19) We walked around, me trying to get out, him laughing. A quick turn, and we were on the floor.  Floor work is always fun, bodies mashing each other until a lucky combination of holds, the other person struggling to get out.  Nine times out of ten, Joey catches me, but rarely I can get him trapped.  And from there, you just wear the other guy down.
"Bet your nuts are starting to ache, Studly.  Like my surprise? I tried 'em on and lasted twenty minutes.  Hope you can do better!"

20) We tussled awhile, both getting in good maneuvers, sweat starting to break out. Joey seemed to take special care not to fall out of his outfit.  A battle of bodies and we were down again, me sitting on my rump as he forced both my arms behind my back. The technical term is a hammerlock, or double hammerlock if both arms are trapped.  I called it a bitch.  It was one of the few holds I couldn't escape from (unlike rope bondage... I could always get out of that) and Joey knew that.
Very well.  He was sitting behind me, my back leaning against his chest, using his legs to spread mine apart. Crotch-ripped if you would.   

21) Very well.  He was sitting behind me, my back leaning against his chest, using his legs to spread mine apart. Crotch-ripped if you would.  There I was, hands being worked up my spine, legs slowly widened, and a dull ache starts in my balls.  It's been about ten minutes since we started, and Joey breathes in my ear.
Another yank and my arms went higher.  The spandex was ever so slowly and methodically compressing my balls, almost like someone had their fist on them.  Diabolical bastard.  My legs wouldn't stretch apart any more, my chest was stuck out to try and relieve the pressure on my arms, and Joey was laughing in my ear, soft and threatening.  

22) "I'm ready for your submission anytime you are, hotshot.  Take your time though, I like it when you struggle!". The dull ache in my balls got worse, me unable to relieve the pressure slowly building down there.
At some point he tired of the game, turning real nasty. Suddenly, unsuspectingly, he pounded my unprotected nuts with his closed fist.  Ball-bashing was nothing new to us. He's grabbed them, twisted them, slapped them, even kneed me at times.  Usually underwear and jeans absorbed most of the blow, and other times, they were just playful swats or threatening reminders.  This was full force, sadistic, knuckles bared.  

23) It took a second for the pain to reach my skull, my high pitched scream quickly silenced by his free hand.  He let me rage into his palm until it died to a mere whimper, my breathing coming fast and hard.  Once the agony washed over me, the dull ache returned, twice as painful as before.  Damn him.
"You scream again, and you'll wish you never walked into this house.  Understand?"

24)  Weakly nodded as his hand roamed from my face, down my chest, tweaking a nipple, finally resting lightly on my crotch.
I could look down, my privates obscenely outlined in the material, his hand gently fondling them.  Once again, I tried to close my legs, to no avail.  I was helpless.  I watched in horror as he slowly made a fist again, taking his sweet time, lingering in the air, teasing me, only to suddenly crash down, ramming my defenseless balls again.  It took all my will power not to scream.

25) "Do you want to give, now?"  He leaned back, using his hand under my chin to force me to arch back also.  I guessed it was probably more painful for me than for him.  The strain in my shoulders and back increased twofold.  The pressure on my jaw kept me silent as he continued.  "We could do this a while longer.  I'm enjoying your struggling.  You didn't think I'd let you beat me, tonight?"

26) His hand went back to torturing my sore tit as he watched my cry, the pain radiating from my groin and chest, my arms useless behind me.  I'm just glad he stopped racking my nuts.  "Please...Joey..." I managed to gasp between breathes.  He grabbed a handful of my chest hair, pulling as he softly replied ,"If you give, call me 'Master'. If you don't, begging won't help."

27) "Don't think submitting will end the pain," he added, running his hand down to my exposed crotch again.  "I've been planning a lot.  Do you give?"  His fist hovered menacingly over my abused balls. I shook my head up and down, nodding my surrender.  "Say it," he ordered.  "I...submit..."  It wasn't good enough for him.  Yanking my arms still higher, he hissed, "That's not right..." ramming his fist for a third time into my aching nuts.  Instead of screaming, I yelled, "I SUBMIT MASTER...  PLEASE, MASTER...I SUBMIT!"

28) That seemed to be the correct answer.  In the haze of pain, I felt him untangle his legs, releasing my.  I had no energy to close them, instead letting him roll me over onto my stomach, the double hammer still in place.  He forced his free hand down the back of my suit, his fingers crawling over my asshole, between my legs, ending up wrapping my tortured nuts into a fist.

29) Using my arms and nuts, he forced me to my unsteady feet, marching me to the bedroom.  We stood in front of a full length mirror he had.  What a sight. There I was, pecs straining from my arms forced behind my back.   My nipples red from his torment.  A gross bulge in the neon yellow trucks where Joey's hand gripped my family jewels. My cock as hard as a pipe, betraying my desire.  Tears ran down my face, dripping on my chest, my new master's face grinning next to mine.

30) "I wanted to get a photograph of this moment, but let's see if I can etch this picture into your brain.  You see the pussy-boy in the mirror?"  He twisted my nuts until I shook my head yes.  
"Are you a slave pussy-boy?"  I'd agree to anything as long as he had my balls.  
"You submit to me?"  A nod yes.  
"I can do anything I want to you?" Another nod yes.

31) "Ready to suck my cock, slave boy?"  A no.  He laughed, jerking my nuts.  "I didn't think you'd break that easily.  I'm gonna enjoy wearing you down. You won't.  But I think that's why you came."  He then marched my pain racked body to the sliding glass door leading out into the dark back yard.  He made me open it using my rock hard dick, catching the handle with it and sliding it open.  My master guided me.  I could hardly wait.

32) The cold night air instantly evaporated my sweat and tears from my body, leaving me shivering.  Joey frog marched me down a path to the two old tress in his backyard.  They were about five yards apart, tall, not many branches near the ground. Around the first we went, until he stopped me between them with a jerk of my nuts.  The privacy wall was ten feet behind me as I looked at the rest of the yard.  

33) Thankfully, he released my nuts, keeping a firm grip on my hands behind my back. He pulled me over to the right tree, using his free hand to guide my wrist up in the air.  Hanging from a branch above my head was a rope. He forcefully guided my wrist into it, pulling it tight.

34) Using both hands, he forced my other wrist into a similar noose hanging from the other tree.  He was prepared.
I found myself hanging between the trees from my wrists, my feet barely able to touch the ground.  He took a moment to rub my chest and back with his hands, working his way down my side, to my ankle.

35) He brutally pulled it to the tree, using another prepared noose to secure my leg to the base of the tree.  In moments, my other leg was secured as well. There I was, mostly naked, stretched unbelievably tight between two trees, arms forced out and up, my legs spread wide.  Spread-eagled I was, helpless in bondage, in my new master's web.

36) He stepped back, critically eyeing my position.  Thighs protesting, pecs strained, balls still squeezed by his gifted speedo, he was satisfied with my predicament. Crossing his arms over his pumped chest, he smiled, watching me struggle futilely in the ropes.  I still had free movement of my head, able to look up at the night sky, down to see the torturous yellow spandex that tormented my privates still, side to side at the imposing trees.  I could grind my hips, wiggling my ass, but that was the extent of my freedom.   

37) The knots holding my wrists were unreachable as they stretched my arms high, revealing my pits and leaving my nipples exposed. My legs spread, offering no protection for my crotch.  Joey's plaything.
He approached slowly, running his fingers from my tits to my pits, along the pectoral muscle.  I vainly twisted as he chuckled.  He then reached for my nipples, one in each hand, as he methodically twisted and pulled each.  One at a time had always been madding, but both at once was hellish.

38) He slowly raised a knee into my crotch, steadily putting pressure on my nuts, reminding me how vulnerable I was.  I twisted and struggled as the pain grew, straining against the ungiving rope holding me prisoner.  I open my mouth to gasp as the agony intensified.

39) Joey pressed his mouth over mine, ramming his tongue down my throat, sucking the air from my lungs. Something snapped within me as I struggled against my bonds. I helplessly shuddered as I climaxed, shooting my cum into the trunks, muscles straining to no avail.  A wet spot grew on the spandex.

40) I was still cumming as Joey pulled away, grinning evilly.  "Fucking pussy-boy," he chuckled.  "You'll be punished for that.  But first, I'll take a breather, and you'll just hang there and moan, slave-boy.  Think about what I'm gonna find in your bag, faggot.  And what surprises I got in store for you. Oooh, this night is just getting started."  He walked away, rubbing his hands.
I hung there, spent after my ordeal.  I was crying.  This is exactly what I wanted, yet it wasn't anything like I imagined. Too late, now.  I was trapped.  Tied. Roped.  

41) Helplessly spread. Exposed.  Virtually naked.  Awaiting his pleasure.  And his pleasure usually involved pain.  Mine.  The yellow spandex still crushed my nuts, keeping the pain at a nauseating high.  
The crying naked pussy slave-boy, hanging helplessly, waiting for his new master to come back and torture him some more It wouldn't get any better.  Only much worse.  How right I was...
I don't remember how long I hung there.  I heard the glass door open, and here he came.

42) He had showered, and was now wearing tight black jeans tucked into his black boots.  As usual, he was bare chested, topping off the outfit with a black felt cowboy hat.  In other words, one hot stud. My dick instantly started growing, swimming in the cum-filled speedo.  Joey watched the physical manifestation of my desire, and laughed.  A quick blow with his fist to my cock did nothing to dampen my excitement.  I was hard once more, a bound stud puppy lusting after his hot master. Something else to be punished for.

43) He raised his right hand, revealing the Polaroid camera he was holding.  I put on a good show, twisting helplessly as he said "Cheese" and photographed me.  I protested as he stood there and watched it develop.  He took the picture and camera to the outdoor table, setting them down.

44) He came back and caressed by throbbing dick through the spandex. With his other hand he reached behind me, grabbing my hair, pulling it back, forcing my head back.  He leaned close, whispering in my ear.  "Is this what you want pussy-boy?  Want me to get you off again?  Or do you want to hang there and look at me?  I'm one fucking stud, ain't I?  You're just dying to be my slave.  Slave-boy."  I tried to stop, as hard as I could, but his hand and my prick had different thoughts. I shot my second load for the night, again into the speedo. The white goo seeped through, coating his hand.

45) He just laughed, releasing my hair.  I was breathing hard, hanging limply in the ropes as he gabbed my sore nipple, bringing his slimy hand to my mouth.  "Clean it off!" was all he ordered. I did, tasting my own cum, licking and sucking his digits, palm and back of his hand, coating it with my saliva.  He laughed, jerking his hand away, giving one last good pull on my tit.  I remembered his earlier warning and stifled my scream.

46) He walked to the side of the house, grabbing a hose with a sprayer attachment.  "I see we're gonna have to clean you up, pussy."  He used the high pressure sprayer to hose me down, forcing the water on my face and chest, lowering it to my packed crotch.  It cleaned out the speedo, but felt like a hammer on my nuts.  I was whimpering as he finished, the dampness cooling my skin until I was shivering in the night air.  He came back, playing with my chest hair.

47) "You've been wearing that swimsuit for over an hour, boy.  Bet you're just dying to get out of it.  Bet you'll do anything to get me to take it off."  I nodded an emphatic yes.  "Suck my dick, pussy-boy?"  I hesitantly shook my head no, though truthfully, being his slave for three months couldn't compare to the agony in my nuts. I was about to say yes when he smiled.

48) "I'll take 'em off anyway.  I'm glad you said no, 'cause I'm just warming up.  I don't think you'll like the replacement, though.  Don't go away!"  With another slap to my balls, playful this time, he walked to the outdoor table to get his sack and mine.  I dreaded the things I knew were in them, but the pain in my groin overrode any regrets.

49) He sauntered back, taking his sweet time, letting me gaze at the striking figure he made, dressed in black.  He stood in my face again.  "I thought about cutting it off you, but I want to save it for later...  Which means I have to untie your legs.  Let me warn you, slave-boy.  You try to kick me, or get loose, and you'll be punished.  And so you don't get any ideas, I'll tell you your punishment.  I'll crush your left ball. Slowly.  Got it, pussy-boy?"

50) He said it so methodically, so naturally.  He meant it too.  I stood stock still as he untied my legs, roughly pulling the clinging spandex down my legs until it was off.  He then retied my legs, farther apart than before, finally standing up.  I sagged in my bonds, free of the consuming pain.  He lifted my head by the chin and looked me straight in the eyes.  "Obey me, slave-boy, or I'll hurt you.  Bad."

51) He walked to the table coming back with an article of clothing and a leather belt.  He brought the underwear up to my face, showing me his used shorts.  "You can either open your mouth, or I can knee you in your unprotected nuts.  I don't care.  What will it be?"  I quickly opened my mouth, letting him stuff the dirty shorts in it, bits of dried cum flaking off.

52) He laughed.  "You're learning, pussy."  He used the leather belt to keep it in my mouth, running it through my lips and around the back of my head, tying it tight, the cruel leather cutting into the corners of my mouth.  I tried working the underwear out, but the gag was too tight.  All that was coming out was muffled grunts.  He took a moment, fondling my chest. "You know.  I think we need some way to tell us apart.  You know, master and slave.  I've got just the ticket."

53) Joey walked to the patio table, pulling a large jar out of his bag.  He opened it as he walked back over, showing me the dark gunk inside.  Using his fingers, he dug out a blob, spreading it over my neck, working out along my shoulders, finally down my chest.  The stuff smelled horrible.  He coated every inch of my body, going down my back, starting at my feet and working up each leg.

54) He took real special care of my groin, jacking me off until my dick got hard to really get every inch.  Finally he moved to my rear, liberally stuffing my ass, using a finger to get it way up my crack.  He stepped back, admiring his handy work.  About that time, my neck started itching, a sensation of heat moving it's way down my body.  Pretty soon every part of my skin burned.  He laughed, watching me wiggle, yelling into his shorts.  The pain kept getting worse.

55) He finally sat down on the ground, leaning back on one elbow.  He spread his legs, crossing his ankles so his crotch was wide open.  He ran his free hand down his bare chest, over the sparse red hair, eventually resting on the growing bulge.  I could barely stand the burning, fighting vainly against the ropes.  I was crying into the gag, hating the pain, but lusting after the stud before me, playing with himself.

56) This cost I would endure to see him like that, the scene from my fantasies.  He chuckled, sometimes moving his hand to a tit to caress it, sometimes rubbing his stomach.  And still the stuff burned.
Sometime later my voice failed.  

57) Joey stood up, moving back to the water hose.  He hosed me down again, using his hand to wipe the stubborn goop off my flesh. He roughly washed my privates, ending up shoving the hose up my butt, the cool water filling my ass.  Soon it was over, my flesh still sensitive to his touch as he ran his hand over my body. Looking down, I saw the reason he said we'd be different. I had no body hair below my neck, just smooth, reddish skin.

58) Without warning I shot my third load of the night, the white cum gushing into the night air.  Joey laughed, whispering in my ear.  "Seems you like this shit.  Good. You'll have something to remember me by for the rest of your life."  I turned my head, shocked.

59) "That's right, pussy.  This stuff is permanent," he continued.  I just moaned into my gag.  "And I bought enough for three coatings, in case we find any... stray hairs."  He walked back to the patio table as the truth sank in.

60) My respite was brief.  My conqueror was soon back, a long, thin object in his clutches.  He grabbed my nuts, his touch still causing pain.  With his other hand, he showed me a leather thong, one he wrapped around my balls, pulling them away from my body.  He let the other end dangle to the ground as he dragged over a cement cinder block, an oddity he had found in the alley once.

61) He lifted one end, tying the leather strip through one of the two holes.  The other end thankfully rested on the ground, but even that partial weight was enough to drag my nuts down.  Painfully down.  I tried to lower my body, but my arms were tied too high.  Nothing I could do would relieve the stress.  Sweat quickly broke out on my chest as he walked back to the bags.

62) Once more he stood in front of me, holding up another prized possession.  "The crowning glory," he said, showing me the two clamps connected by a short chain.  He grinned as he pulled at my nipples, finally clamping one, and then the other on my sore tits.  I didn't know which was worse, my nuts or my tits.

63) He punched me once, in the stomach, wishing me 'pleasant dreams' as he slowly walked to the patio door.  "I'm gonna go take a nap now.  I'll be back in a couple of hours, wanting to know if you'll give me what I want.  If you don't, I'll just let you get yourself out of your predicament.  Understand?"  With that he entered the house, sliding the door closed, turning off the outside light. Leaving me cold, naked, hurting, and horny as hell.

64) I knew enough by now to know I would never be able to get out of the knots he had tied, especially with the added torments.  I just steeled myself to endure, knowing I must have only a few hours left before it would be over.  Every time I wiggled, my tits protested, my nuts ached.  Agony burned in my loins, spreading slowly outwards.  I cried, the tears leaving a trail of pain as they ran down my sensitive skin. The cold air on my naked, hairless flesh gave me goose bumps.

65) It hurts, and there was nothing I could do about it.  Except pray Joey would come back.  Come back and let me surrender.
A few hours later, in a haze of pain, I heard the patio door open.  I couldn't guess how long I had hung there, mindlessly praying for relief.  He came around into my field of vision.  My prick jerked to attention, the movement not lost on him.  

66) He was wearing only a dark colored speedo. Slowly, he spread a blanket on the ground, about five feet in front of me.  He then moved behind me, his voice whispered in my ear.  "Ready to suck dick, pussyboy?" he asked.  I quickly nodded yes, afraid any hesitation would give him cause for more punishment.  He laughed at my enthusiasm.

67) I heard him walk away, then heard him digging in one of our bags.  In seconds he was back, bringing something over my head and encircling my neck.  "I had a good idea this might come in handy," he whispered in my ear.  The leather collar tightened, sharp pricks sticking my neck.  I wiggled in surprise and pain.  "Yeah," he said, "the inside's lined with those.  Just a constant reminder this toy isn't for show, slave-boy."  With jerk, it was buckled, choking me, little dots of pain circling my neck.

68) He came around to the front, standing back a ways.  He put something to his face, then a flash of light went off. He was taking another picture!  There I would be, naked, hairless, bound, collared, tit-clamped, my nuts pulled down, my dick hard as a rock. Something else for his growing collection.  He walked before me, hooking the chain connecting the nipple clamps with a finger.  "You look really hot, Studly"

69) He laughed, and said, "I'll tell you a little rule.  I'm gonna take the gag off, and when I do… You better not make a *sound*!" he ordered.  I wiggled my head, the collar restricting my movements.  Anything to get him to stop.
Apparently he was satisfied.  He moved behind me, the sounds telling me he had put the camera on the table.  With deliberate slowness, he untied the leather thong holding the underwear in my mouth.  He laughed when I spit his soggy underwear out, finally able to swallow the saliva that had gathered.

70) With determination, he forced the noose around my right wrist open, freeing it, letting my tired arm fall to my side.  He did the same with the other.  Blood flowed through my appendages, sending tingly feelings down my arms. It didn't take much effort to wrench them behind my back, forcing them into hammerlocks again. I didn't know if I could.  I felt a tugging at my nuts as he untied the thong from the cement block.

71) He deliberately placed my wrists between my shoulder blades, crossed, and tied them with a rope.  He left a little at the end, which he tied to my collar, forcing my head farther back.  The pain caused me to moan, a bad mistake.

72) He pushed me forward, and unable to use my hands, my legs still tied to the trees, I fell forward, landing with a grunt on the grass.  The tit clamps gouged into my nipples but I stifled a scream.

73) When I could focus again, I found myself staring at a bulge in a green speedo, my head hemmed in by two muscular thighs.  Behind the bulge, a trail of red hair rose on a taunt stomach, flaring out across a sculptured chest.  Topping everything off was Joe's smiling face, triumph flashing in his eyes.

74) His crotch was an inch from my face as he lay back on the blanket.  To reach it, I'd have to move forward, putting even more pressure on my balls.  That bastard!  He could barely restrain his glee as I struggled forward, his spandex clad groin within reach of my mouth.  He didn't seem eager to help me, and knowing he wasn't the patient sort, I started licking the swimsuit.

75) My tongue's ministrations did wonders, his cock beginning to stir in its prison. The only way I was going to get at it was to make in hard enough to force it's way out of the suit. I began licking in earnest, like the bulge was an ice cream cone.  It tasted of strange cloth and funky sweat. It was almost chewy, but I didn't dare scratch anything with my teeth.

76) Joey moaned, letting his head hang back, my treasure slowly moving in the confines of the suit.  My mouth was dry from all the saliva I was using, coating the green mound. I used more pressure from my lips, running them up and down the tubular cock.  I gently guided it up as it grew, aiming for the waistband of the speedo.

77) A quick return to the covered ballsac, a little tongue bath, and back again to the hardening dick. My nuts were screaming in agony, stretched to their limits.  I renewed my efforts, overjoyed as a purple head peeked out from the swimsuit.  Eagerly I pounced, carefully pulling the waist away from Joe's stomach, letting the expanding python of flesh snake out.

78) With relish I chowed down on the length of manmeat, ignoring the fact this was the first time I had ever done such a thing.  I took it as far down my throat as possible, holding it there, ready to end this nightmare.  I was rewarded by another moan, louder, my dry mouth working even harder at its task.
It filled my mouth now.  I kept going up and down, like my lips were a fist, using friction and wet spit to put Joe over the edge.  Every time  I engulfed it, I tried to use my tongue to tickle his nuts, anything to get this over with.

79) His breathing grew heavy, his cock solid as a rock.  His chest muscles tensed, his pecs bulging, making me horny.  His arms fought against themselves, the sight of them straining getting me hard, causing more pain in my leashed nuts.  I increased my speed, ramming my nose into his pubic hair, tightening my lips till they ached.
"Oooooo" he cried, finally grabbing my hair with his hand, forcing his cock deep into my throat.  I couldn't breath, his flesh filling my mouth, as I felt his body shake.  I could barely tell liquid was pouring down my throat, coating my esophagus.

80) Joe was feeding me his cum, sealing my fate for the next three months.  I was now his slave, the contract signed in blood, and now, his cum.  I felt him softening, my master keeping a handful of hair, making sure I swallowed each drop.
"Pretty pathetic," Joey informed me.  "But I'll make sure you get a *lot* of practice."  I looked up just in time to catch his evil grin.  He pulled out of my mouth, watching cum dribble down my chin.  Within seconds he was standing, his feet the only thing I could see.  They shuffled as he crammed his cock back into the swimsuit, giving the bulge one last grope.

81) He walked behind me, untying each of my ankles. My legs were so sore, I didn't feel like trying to close them. "Time to get up, Studly," he ordered, giving the thong a yank.  The agony motivated me to struggle and stand, my legs sore from being stretched for so long.

82) It was difficult to lean forward, my collar wrenching my arms higher up my back.  Everything Joe had done caused me pain as I rose, my nude body glistening from the sweat.  
He passed the rope between my legs, moving to stand in front of me, the rope held just under my chin, a reminder who was master.
"You're my slave 'till graduation," he said, tugging the leash until the pain in my balls made me nod.  

83) "You'll do everything I tell you to do, or I'll punish you." Another yank, another nod.  His free hand grabbed the chain connecting my tit clamps, a good jerk drawing me nearer, so close my naked form could feel the heat from him.  He threaded the rope up between the chain and my chest, so that any tug from him would jerk my nuts up, and the clamps out. A very diabolical leash. With a smile in the growing dawn, he turned away from me, heading for the porch doors.  

84) I had to follow, trying to keep the leash from pulling my tits or nuts.  I would have given anything to turn and run, to have this night over, but I knew it was just beginning.
I was walking toward hell, following my new master.  
Everything I dreamed of, and more, was happening, and I was as helpless as I had hoped. No turning back.  The feeling that things would only get worse settled in the pit of my stomach.  

How right I was.
 

 

 

End Of The Story

 

FATEFUL NIGHT

Written By: Stew Smith

Illustrated By: Eduardo