Master Eddie grunted as he lifted the heavy industrial vice on to my torture-table. He pushed it forward between my legs until the metal touched my balls. Master Chris held my head up so I could see what was going to happen. What I saw was something like a metal mouth being opened very close to my balls. The mouth was held in place by a solid base resting heavily on the table between my thighs. Master Eddie pushed the gaping metal 'mouth' tight up to my balls, and then slipped the top and bottom ridged jaws of the vice over and under them. Then he turned a screw at the back of the vice gradually closing the horrible jaws. My poor balls, still somewhat swollen and sensitive from their hard caning the day before, were trapped but not yet squeezed. “Imagine, slave, how you’ll feel when I tighten that steel vice. I love it, slave. As the vice closes, when your balls are about a millimetre from bursting,” said Master Eddie, “I’ll probably cum!”
“Before that, I’m going to clamp your tits and your dick”, said Master Chris. “I was going to use tight wooden clothespegs on your dick, which would have been very painful, given the scraping we've given it with that wire brush. But you didn't beg properly and you need extra punishment, so I’m going to use these small extra-tight metal alligator clamps on your dick. Believe me - they bite – they're actually designed for holding slippery plastic folders together - you'll be pleading and begging and screaming, criminal slave, just like you deserve. Take a look - you can see that they're definitely not made for flesh, let alone the sensitive flesh on the human dick, but that’s punishment for you. They’ve got sharp little gripping teeth so we can expect to see drops of blood, and they’re relentless; the more you wriggle, the tighter they’ll feel - they never let go.
It’ll be like a game – will your dick or balls hurt most? Both will be intense, like you need, filth. Master Eddie’s going to be tightening your ball-vice while I’ll attach and play with these metal clamps on your dick. Oh and I won’t just attach them to your dick. I’ll keep moving them around, shaking them and pulling them, to keep your pain going at maximum – we don’t want you to get used to anything. We want you fucking screaming – at least until we gag you with a cloth covered in dog-shit.”
Master Chris held one of his vicious metal sharp-toothed clamps up to my face. Each one was only about an inch across but obviously had strong springs as I saw when he opened them to show me that each one had three jagged teeth that would bite into my dick. He told me to look closely at me the jagged edges that would piercing my dick-flesh. He said “They’re not just small and sharp, they’re also very tightly sprung, which means they’ll squeeze out the blood wherever they’re attached; that’ll make it incredibly painful when I move them around, use them to stretch out your dick and pull on it, or eventually pull them off, but that’s good because you’re a nasty criminal slave and need extra pain. You can look forward to a prolonged stretching and tearing experience in your dick. Yes, slave, I’m going to put twenty of these little fuckers on your dick. I think I can fit at least five of them on the ridge I prepared with the wire brush at the bottom of your glans – you didn’t enjoy that much but it’s nothing to what’s coming.”
Master Eddie grabbed hold of my shaft to keep it still. Then I felt the cold metal edge of the little clamp as it bumped into that pain-ridge around my wire-brushed glans. Then I heard the faintest creak as that first punishment-clamp was squeezed open and then a split second later ... I can’t really describe the shock of the intense pain as three little metal teeth bit into my sensitive, wire-brushed, red-raw glans-flesh. My whole body convulsed. I tried to rear up but my balls were trapped in Master Eddie’s vice. I shook my head violently. My feet curled. The pain was so severe, so terrible.
“The first of many”, said Master Chris.
“My turn now”, said Master Eddie. I assumed he was going to tighten his horrible ball-vice.
I opened my eyes which were scrunched closed and tearing up from the intense pain from the first clamp. I actually thought I was hallucinating from the pain. I could see that Master Eddie wasn’t tightening the vice at all but had in his hand a tiny paintbrush, the kind used for touching up. He was dipping it into a small pot of liquid and swilling it around. “We thought it was unfair”, Master Eddie explained, “that there would be gaps between the teeth of those little clamps, and little gaps between the clamps themselves. We didn’t want bits of your dick-skin to avoid punishment. So I made this mixture of hot chilli powder and burning athletic cream. It’ll work its way into all those little spaces. It’ll feel like your dick caught fire, criminal slave!”
At first, I felt a slight tickle from the brush, and then a jab of intense pain as it knocked against the clamp. I yelped loudly. A few seconds later, while Master Eddie was still poking around the tortured ridge of my dickhead with his brush, the burning started. My head couldn’t cope with the intensity of that localised pain in a tiny corner of my dick. The clamp and the burning together were too much. How could these teenagers think up anything so cruel? How could they have devised this? I became incoherent, shrieking and screaming, begging and groaning.
Master Chris and Master Eddie both smiled broadly. This torture would be good!
“About a hundred clamps and paintings to go, all over your body”, Master Chris remarked. “And don’t forget the ball-vice!”, said Master Eddie. The two sadistic boys hugged each other, high-fived and laughed.
Before they resumed their work with the clamps on my dick, Master Eddie asked me if I’d like the ball-vice tightened a bit. I knew there was only one answer: “Yes please, Master Eddie, please start crushing my balls. They deserve to be hurt in your vice”. “Half an inch”, said Master Chris, and my balls started to ache as the vice closed by half an inch – in fact, Master Eddie went a bit more than half an inch, causing a spasm of pain, and then he released the grip of the vice slightly. “Try pulling your balls out now, slave”. I tried obediently and obviously couldn’t move them now. “Harder, you fucker” he shouted, and smacked my cheek hard, making it sting. I pulled with as much strength as I could muster but my swollen balls stayed trapped.
“Let’s get on with its dick”, said Master Chris.
“Let's deal with your dick first, Chris”, said Master Eddie whose shorts, I now saw, were well tented. To my surprise, and relief because he wasn't torturing me at this point, he knelt down and pulled Master Chris’s shorts and boxers to his ankles and then right off him. Chris didn't even look surprised, just smiled. Eddie sucked Chris’s good-size erection loudly and I could hear the urgent thrusting and the quick tempo changes. Eddie choked a bit but held on, and then from Chris a shout of “Fuck". Eddie held on to Chris’s shaft to make sure that he got all his cum in his mouth, and then he stood up and smiled with cum still visible on his lips and teeth. When he opened his mouth, I could see a big pool of cum on his tongue. He swallowed.
Torturing me had made both my teen Masters horny.
“I don't want to cum until this slave-cunt is properly tortured", said Master Eddie now standing over me. I’m going to give its balls another half-inch squeeze right now.” The pain as the vice closed on my swollen balls another half inch was horrendous, sending a continuous hard ache into my stomach and back into my groin. Master Chris started attaching more clamps to my dick and Master Eddie got his paintbrush ready.
Master Eddie had a big and obvious erection under his shorts as I screamed in pain, and Master Chris was soon rubbing himself again as he worked on torturing my dick.
By the time they finished, probably after about two hours, my dick, nipples, armpits, nostrils, ears, inner thighs, feet and fingers were covered with clamps of various sizes and viciousness. My pubic area, where Master Eddie had pulled out most of the hair, was super-sore from some sharp-toothed plastic clamps and a good application of the burning athletic cream mixed with chilli oil.
At least a dozen clamped places on my body now had drops of blood coming from them, but everywhere the clamps were an agonising punishment. My young masters played with those clamps, tugging the unbearably tight surgical clamps Master Chris has attached to my inner thighs, twisting the sharp little clothespegs on my ears, and ripping them off and re-attaching them to my my bald pubic patch.
Above all, they enjoyed playing with the flesh-piercing alligator clips on my dick. They kept returning to them. They were the worst – I just couldn’t believe the agony caused by a little twist or a sharp pull on those three little jagged metal teeth which penetrated my dick-skin.
Master Eddie laughed as he looked me in the eyes and pulled on one of those horrible dick-clamps. This one had been firmly attached to the soft flesh on the underside of my shaft – he twisted it slightly and then suddenly pulled hard. Two of the teeth broke loose, and blood flowed for a few moments. I screamed till my lungs wanted to burst. Master Chris said “leave it there, Ed”, so Master Eddie left that clip hanging on my dick by one tooth -”paint the bit where the teeth just came out”, he suggested, and Master Eddie dipped his paintbrush back into the fiery oil mixture and painted the two little open wounds left by the metal teeth which he’d pulled out. I became hysterical – covered in sweat, I was somehow lifting my body, torturing my own crushed, trapped balls which had by now been significantly flattened by the vice. Master Chris then pulled one of the surgical clamps off my left thigh and attached it to the one-toothed clamp. “It’ll add extra weight and it'll pull non-stop on the one tooth biting into its dick – the criminal slave won’t enjoy that”.
My balls were a mass of pain-spasms. Without seeming to do anything, they ached horribly one moment, made my whole diaphragm spasm with pain the next, and then settled into a kind of intense soreness. Both masters enjoyed making my ball-pain worse, smearing Master-Eddie's torture-paint to burn my scrotum or flicking the crushed balls to cause an extra spasm. I thought I was going to die from the pain in my balls.
Master Chris was getting turned on again by my torture, “Let’s make out in front of the criminal slave while those clamps and the ball-vice are torturing it”. Master Eddie then propped my head up, still with clamps in my nostrils and ears, so I was facing forward. “We want to give you a good view so you can see how much we enjoy torturing you”. Even those slight movements in my body when my head was lifted caused pain everywhere, and sitting up made my balls try to pull out of the vice. I screamed loudly as my trapped balls tortured themselves as Master Eddie propped up my head with a block of wood, so Master Chris gave my balls some extra flicks, looked at them and said unbelievably: it can take another half-inch. Master Eddie started tightening again. I begged and yelled. I shrieked and pleaded but the mouth of that industrial vice just kept closing. Now my head was propped up, I could see clearly that my balls were already horribly flattened, the flesh on my agonised scrotum was spreading out on all sides. My balls were half their normal height and twice their width as they were unnaturally forced out of shape. I couldn't even scream any more. My crushed balls, still somehow attached to my nervous system, spasmed and screamed with pain continuously. The pain now didn't subside at all. It was overwhelming.
“This cloth has been dipped in dog-shit, slave, and rubbed on that post near your toilet-drain where the dogs all piss.” Master Chris yelled in my face to get my attention. He held in his gloved hand a horribly soiled rag which looked like it had been torn from dirty overalls years ago and then used as an asswipe. It was damp and brown and obviously rolled in dog-shit or dog-piss that morning. “It’s going in your mouth while we make out – enjoy the taste!" As he wound that disgusting cloth around my head and forced the nastiest bits he could find into my mouth, even through my appalling pain, I could see Master Eddie’s hard-on as he took off his shorts. Even my degradation by dog-shit turned this young sadist on. The taste was at least as bad as Master Chris’s shit but, as the vile dampness filled my mouth and small lumps of shit came off on my tongue, it was knowing that it came from dogs that really made it worse. The gag was pulled tight. In overwhelming pain and with the strong taste of dog-waste in my mouth, I watched, silenced, as the teen sex-show got underway. My two teen masters made out in front of me.
Master Eddie let Master Chris finish undressing him and take his good-size upward-curving dick into his mouth. I watched the look on Eddie’s face as his friend’s mouth and then his throat worked that dick. I didn’t think Eddie could hold out, but he eventually managed to pull out, his dick now glistening with pre-cum and Chris’s saliva.
Then Eddie reached out to me. His hard-on stiffened like a steel rod as he played with the clips torturing my feet and then the clamps punishing my hairless pubic flesh. He ripped at two or three of them. One of them came off, leaving a trail of blood. I bit on my dog-soiled gag as the pain of this extra torture hit me. My pain turned them on more and they kissed long and hard.
Eddie and Chris now entwined their tongues, feeling each other’s teeth, feeding each other their saliva and sweat. Supercharged by the pleasure of torture, the two teen sadists went down on the mattress laid out in front of my torture table, so I could see everything, and sucked each other, starting 69-style, then moving so Chris’s asshole was in Eddie’s face and Chris was again sucking Eddie’s rigid dick. Chris pushed back on Eddie’s face - “clean me out, mate, clean me, suck me”. Eddie licked and sucked at Chris’s crack and asshole and then with little more than a grunt he filled Chris’s mouth with a mass of his thick spunk. Chris then lent further forward, still on top of Eddie, but allowing him to move forward from his asshole. He teabagged Eddie, filling his mouth with his hairy teen balls and then exploded for the second time in a few hours into Eddie’s willing month.
My teen masters lay exhausted and happy, naked together on their mattress. I lay in agony on the hard table, also naked, with a dog-filth gag stuck in my mouth with my balls in a crushing vice and covered in torturing clamps. After a few minutes, I heard snoring. My first thought was “wake up and get these clamps off me”, but I thought of the possible consequences when I looked round the room and saw the whips and paddles and other means of inflicting brutal and severe pain.
I learned that, if I stayed completely still, the pain steadied, although there were still spasms, especially from my vice-crushed balls and from the sharp clamps which had been half torn off by Master Eddie. I kept my breathing as shallow as possible to keep my chest movement to a minimum and also to try to control the increasing soreness from the nasty tight clothespegs which Master Chris had shoved up my sensitive nostrils.
Then it happened. I couldn’t help it. My nose hurt so much from the pegs in my nostrils. I wrinkled my nose. I tried to bring the situation back under control, but I couldn't. I sneezed loudly. The shaking caused agony all over my clamped body. I screamed through the gag. My two naked teen masters, who by this time were entwined on their single mattress, woke - “fucking slave”, said Master Chris in a quiet croak, “you’ll fucking suffer for that.” Master Eddie, who was more or less underneath Master Chris said “First, let’s fuck each other” - and the horny teen seemed to forget about me and started again.
I realised that they probably had virgin asses and they weren’t about to fuck that way yet, but they were soon back on 69 and thrusting hard. Eddie came first into Chris’s mouth and, moments later, Chris pulled out and came over Eddie’s face and neck – he licked it up himself and spat it, strand by strand, into Eddie’s smiling open mouth.
They kissed again, long and hard, and then decided it was time to deal with me.
“You don’t get away with waking your Masters, criminal slave”, said Master Chris. “We’re going to rip off your fucking clamps now without opening them – see how you like that extra punishment. Also, we weren’t going to use you as a toilet tonight, but now we’ve changed our minds. You’ll sleep on the concrete floor again, covered in our shit. Remember these extra punishments when you‘re thinking about waking us up in future, slave-filth.”
For the next hour at least, my torturers pulled off my clamps without opening them first. It was a game for them. Sometimes they would pull and just leave the clamp attached intensely to the last half-millimetre of skin - “I’ll come back to that one later”. Sometimes, they just tore my skin with the clamps' metal or plastic teeth. Of course, the injuries were small, but there were dozens of them, and Master Eddie was still using his burning oil mixture to make my ripped and torn flesh as painful as possible. Master Chris enjoyed playing with my newly unclamped flesh as the blood flowed back – he did that with my nipples, kneading and twisting them after pulling the clamps right off them, then he calmly put the same clamps right back on them, and repeated the whole thing at least five times, giggling while I writhed in the ever-worsening pain.
The last thing they did was to release my balls from Master Eddie’s vice. To maximise the pain, they released the pressure very quickly and yanked my balls free as soon as they could be physically pulled out from those terrible metal jaws. They even scraped my ball-sack when they yanked my balls out of the vice, and it started to bleed in several places – Master Chris then got Master Eddie to bring his little bowl of chilli and athletic cream mix and dipped each ball individually until it was actually submerged in the fiery liquid.
At long last, the clamps were back in the torture box and Master Chris took off my dog-shit gag and took it to the toilet where I would be chained up and left for the night later. Master Eddie untied me from the torture table - “Get to your toilet-prison, criminal slave, and get under the rim-seat", but I couldn’t move. My whole body was so sore and stiff.
Master Chris fetched a pair of nasty-looking floggers which I’d noticed hanging on the wall. Master Eddie went first and slammed his flogger on to my well-punished dick and balls. Master Chris went for my chest. I yelled frantically that I was sorry “I’m obeying, I'm obeying, Masters”. I forced myself up so I was sitting on to the edge of the table. Master Eddie aimed his flogger across my shoulders. I collapsed on to the floor and started crawling to my toilet-cell. They flogged me on my back and ass and between my legs until I was face-up under the rim-seat, where Master Eddie sat down and farted loudly. A minute or two later, he grunted, his hole opened, dropping two good-sized light-brown soft warm turds over my nose and eyes. A moment after that, they started sliding into my mouth.
“Let’s make it spend the night like that”. Master Eddie fetched the sack of vile slave-lumps and inserted two at a time into my mouth - “get them down you, filth”. Then he picked up the dog-shit gag and used it to push what I hadn't yet swallowed of his own shit right into my mouth.
Master Chris re-attached the collar from the previous night and tied it to the rim-seat – so this really was where I was going to spend the night. “I’m leaving your hands free, criminal slave, so you can get at your water-bowl", he pointed to a dirty-looking yellow plastic bowl, “and make sure that you’ve eaten every trace of my friend’s shit and these two extra delicious slave-lumps by morning”.
Master Chris then took a stinking shit in the bowl where his former shit was still festering “It’s smelling good – slow-cooking shit for you. It'll be a great meal for you in a day or two, criminal slave”, he laughed.
Master Eddie then pissed in my water-bowl, and they left.
In the pitch darkness of my toilet-cell, I lay on that cold hard concrete floor. Master Eddie’s shit, which I would now have to finish eating filled my mouth and covered my lips. I would also have to eat the two extra disgusting slave-lumps Master Chris had put down next to my head. Master Eddie's piss flavoured my water.
Eventually, I suppose from sheer exhaustion, I slept. I woke to the sound of the toliet-cell door unlocking and then footsteps.
I started to shake uncontrollably.
Master Eddie entered my toilet prison first. “Fuck, it stinks in here”. Then he saw what I’d done and realised it wasn’t just Master Chris’s festering turds that stank. “You filthy slave, urgh”. Master Chris followed and saw the result of my meal last night of slave lumps and shit. I had also drunk most of the pissed-in water from my bowl. My own piss was in a puddle between my legs and my shit was oozing out from under my ass.
“OK”, said Master Chris. “This is what’s going to happen, you filthy cunt. You’re going to clean up your mess using that dog-shit rag we gagged you with yesterday” - he pointed to the corner where Master Eddie had flung it last night, “and your bare hands. How hard we cane you will depend on how clean the place is in 20 minutes. Leave my turds in the bowl where you are – you can enjoy them tomorrow.”
Master Eddie unchained me from the rim chair - “Get on with it, you fucking criminal slave." He kicked me painfully on the side of my left thigh as I was struggling to stand up. Then they both left and locked me in again.
With my stinking rag and my bare hands, I started to clean up, knowing that my cleaning would be judged in twenty minutes by two teenage judges who enjoyed punishing me so much that my caning would certainly be severe whatever happened, but I also knew that not trying would be an option with even worse results. They had warned me that, if I hadn't done a decent job when they came back to inspect, they would chain me up there and then, and use different canes for just as long as they wanted.
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