Sam's Suffering

I’m guided over to my third station, my third opportunity to suffer for my audience. A solid, wooden chair, painted all black. The chair is an unusual shape, with no center section to sit on, just two thin planks jutting out left and right to hold and restrain my legs. 

I’m strapped down as expected with belts up my calves, ankles and thighs, severely limiting my movement. My wrists are also strapped down behind my back to a post behind me. Just for equal measure, a thick belt was strapped around my torso, just under my pecs, pushing them up. The audience cat calls me, enjoying my body bound in this manner. I had to commend these men. They always found new way for me to feel completely vulnerable. 

Master Brad swaps my bit gag for a red ball gag. He comes to my front side, kisses me, and says, “Slave. You’re going to hate what we’re going to do to you. Have any ideas?”

I shake my head.

“Well. Let me give you a clue.” Master Brad pulls at the pouch of my jockstrap, letting my cock and balls spill out. The crowd cheers.

Master Brad turns to the audience. “Gentlemen. Folks at home, also. This slave has been tortured hard since we got him. However, there is one staple of our lifestyle he has not done too much. Mind fixing that?”

“Yeah!”

“Nice cock and balls on this one.”

“Gonna make ya bite harder on that ball gag, mate!”

Master Brad singles out a particular Dom in the audience; signals him to come up.

A new dom, a fit  guy, maybe forty years old, in leather pants, belt, boots, a harness, and a leather captain’s hat approaches me. 

“Hi, Slave. Sir Charlie to ya.” This Aussie hunk looks at me like prey. “I have a specialty, ya see.”

BRRRRRR.

My chair tilts back, maybe thirty degrees. My cock and balls now center stage for the audience. Sir Charlie takes a zapper from the wall. With a grin, he zaps my left nut. I jolt in my seat.

“Welcome to the CBT station. Ever have your balls crushed, Slave?” He zaps my right nut.

I shake my head.

“Perfect.” Sir Charlie grabs a contraption from the wall. It’s a square device with a clear panel in front with a whole inside and a black panel in the back. 

Sir Charlie sticks my cock through the hole and twists little dials up front, tightening the contraption. Little by little my balls are crushed. My stomach begins to ache. The crowd snickers. Sir Charlie licks the clear panel against my balls.

“Cozy there, bloke?”

“No, Shir!” I begin to drool all over myself. Sir Charlie tightens the ball crusher further.

“That’s not all, Slave.” Sir Charlie attaches a wire to the crusher and feeds that into a box. He turns a dial there and my balls begin to tingle. This is an electro toy. My eyes roll back and my body trembles.

“Ah. No moving!” Sir Charlie produces a long, thick dildo on a stand from the gear nearby. He lubes it and sticks it deep up my ass. My range of movement is reduced. 

“ Fucking faggot likes having his balls crushed!” Sir Charlie calls attention to my rock hard cock. He strokes me, bringing me close. My breath becomes labored and I get close.

“Sir, can I com?” I beg.

He stops stroking and pulls out a leather slapper to beat my cock with. Everyone laughs. I curse. 

“Nah, boy. You ain’t cumming until we’ve all had a taste of ya.” Sir Chalie sucks my cock and I shake. The dildo in my cunt hurts me and forces my back into obedience.

This continues on for the entire first hour,. The crusher is finally removed and I gasp. The pain is intense and my cock shrivels. My Dom massages my sore balls as oxygen returns and I scream. He sucks my balls and after the shock to my system it begins to feel nice. I harden up for my Dom. 

“Now that you’ve been warmed up, I can finally hurt ya!” His evil grin frightens me. This man may be the most terrifying Dom I’ve met yet.

He returns with a small mallet, holding it firmly. His eyes pierce mine like I’m the only one in the room that matters.

THUNK

He starts me slow, smacking my balls with the mallet. It’s uncomfortable but not too bad. He slowly builds up in speed and intensity. I whimper. 

“Good. Scream for me when it hurts bad. I want to know.” I sweat profusely, holding on as long as I can.

I SCREAM. “FUCK, PLEASE, SIR!”

“Do you want mercy, slave?”

I hear the livestream RING RING RING with tips. They’re really enjoying this one. 

“No, Sir. I suffer, Sir.” Sir hurts me even harder. I scream. I cry. The tips are through the roof and suddenly, maybe it’s the attention, but my shriveled cock returns to full mast. The room cheers for me and I endure a full hour of this.