Miles
Of course, Jordan had a wide array of sounding rods.
He had done an amazing job at fingering Miles the day before; he hadn’t been able to make him cum hands-free. This called for some severe punishment, hence why he was tightly secured to a chair in a position that was just short of being uncomfortable.
With his wrists tied behind his back and his muscular legs strapped to the chair, Jordan looked glorious. A fallen god who’d chosen to kneel in front of his follower. One whose desperation was hard to ignore.
The throb of his thick cock, and the big cockhead lying under its foreskin were only some of the features that had drawn Miles to him. Then came his dark eyes, his angular face, and the way he carried himself, cocky and removed from the world.
“Look at yourself,” Miles stole a bit of the precum drooling from Jordan’s peehole. “How does it feel to be so helpless?”
He didn’t sound cruel, at least, he didn’t think he did. For all the hatred he had felt toward Jordan in the beginning, now that he was in his position, Miles only felt pity. He was soft-hearted like that. He smiled and ate Jordan’s potent juice.
No response came; Jordan only dropped his head in defeat, unable to look Miles in the eyes.
“Yeah, you should feel ashamed,” Miles said, moving over to the table to grab the first sounding rod. “I will open you up, go up and up until you can take the biggest sound. I won’t hurt you, but we won’t stop until we go through all of them. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Jordan mumbled, still not looking up.
“Good boy,” Miles applied some lube on the rod and on the tip of Jordan’s cock. “We could’ve had something nice, but you ruined it.”
Jordan’s head snapped up, fear painted on his handsome face. “What do you mean?”
“I...” Miles licked his lips and began to twirl the rod into Jordan’s dick. “I can’t stay with you.”
“But… please, I’m really trying!”
“You hurt me too much!” Miles spat, burying the sound deeper into Jordan, who winced and strained against his bounds. “You tricked me.”
“I didn’t!”
“You did! You saw I was lost, and you chose to take the opportunity to turn me into your fucktoy.”
The rod was halfway in; it was so thin that Miles thought he ought to have started with a couple of sizes up. Jordan’s urethra was large, and he could’ve taken it. Miles frowned, mesmerized by the way the tender skin moved as he let the rod drop deeper and deeper. This was a whole new way to gain power. To fuck a man’s hole was intimate, but to breach into his manhood was a whole other form of control.
“I’m sorry,” Jordan whispered. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“That’s my point. You’ll be worthy of anyone if you keep doing this.”
Miles stroked Jordan from the inside, the sounding rod so deep he held it with the tip of his fingers. He was even afraid of losing it if he wasn’t careful. He pulled it out completely, a bit too fast.
“Shit!” Jordan cried out.
“Sorry!” Miles said, truly apologetic.
“S’okay,” Jordan replied, shoulders drooping. “So you are going to leave me.”
“Not really,” Miles chuckled darkly. “I still love your dick and your body. But I don’t think I can give you what you want.”
“What is it I want?”
“Love? I think.”
“Fuck,” Jordan sighed.
Miles skipped the second rod, too eager to see how the third would part Jordan open. When he penetrated Jordan, the bound boy tried to jerk away. But his chest tensed up, his mouth twisted with discomfort, but his hips asked for more and thrust into Miles with eagerness.
“So we’d be… playmates?”
“Yeah,” Miles said casually. “As long as I don’t find anyone.”
“What if I show you I’ve changed? What if I get better?” Jordan asked, breathless, not from the rod in his dick but from the thoughts racing through his tortured mind.
“It’s not me you have to convince, and it’s not for me you have to do it. But for yourself.”
Silence fell over them, and Miles decided to focus on fucking Jordan’s cock. He let the rod do the work, prying him open while milking more of his precious precum out. No lube was needed; Jordan was self-lubricated. The blue veins crisscrossing his huge cock bulged, and the crown of his cockhead was so prominent that it looked painful.
Miles grabbed his own erection and pumped it in sync with the rod’s movements.
It went up and down Jordan’s shaft, widening his urethra with each stroke.
By the fifth rod, Jordan was a writhing mess of knots and helpless tension. He couldn’t escape, and even without his restraints, Miles believed he wouldn’t.
Sweat broke out of his pores, the heat of the room making it hard for him to breathe evenly. Jordan hadn’t spoken for a while and remained transfixed on the invasion of his dick. His body was aroused, all hard nipples and chiseled like a Greek statue, but his eyes were pained by sadness and melancholy.
His balls tightened, and Miles took this as his cue to take the rod out.
“Okay, I’ll let you rest for a while,” Miles announced, taking hold of the rubber ball stretcher he had forgotten on the table before squeezing Jordan’s hefty testicles into it. “I want those nuts exposed.”
“Do whatever you want. Hurt me however you like,” Jordan said.
Miles’s cock jumped.
“You got a paddle?”
“In my room, the trunk in my wardrobe.”
“You got another trunk full of toys?”
“I do.”
“Shit,” Miles laughed. “You sadistic fuck.”
When Miles came back, Jordan’s stare was blank.
Without another word, Miles hit Jordan on the balls. The slap resounded, and Jordan rewarded Miles with a satisfying yelp. The stretcher was too tight, and Jordan’s nuts were already turning a nice shade of purple.
“I’ll make each hit count. Twenty of them, hard and firm,” Miles explained. “Thank me for each and every one of them.”
Jordan
When his balls were hit for the twentieth and last time, Jordan heaved a sigh of relief with a thank you that felt more like a sob than anything else. He’d used that kind of discipline on many of his boys, but never so harshly on himself. Now, he understood that all he had done was instill fear into them.
This wasn’t how a true master should act. Unless it was his boy’s fantasy.
It wasn’t Miles’s for sure.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, and Jordan realized he sounded like a broken record. “For everything I’ve done to you.”
But it’s too late.
The burn in his testicles was fierce, but his cock hadn’t gone down.
“Thank you,” Miles caressed Jordan’s cheek and removed the ball stretcher. “We have four more sounds to go through.”
Jordan wanted to plead his case, to tell Miles he understood what he’d done wrong. But he also knew he didn’t deserve any leniency.
“I will take it, sir!”
His urethra screamed when it was stretched wide another time; the pressure was too much. But Jordan couldn’t chicken out. No matter how sensitive his cock got, it could take it. He had taken the biggest sound before, and he would for Miles.
“Good,” Miles said, jerking himself faster and then removing his hand. “I’m getting close.”
Jordan, on his end, felt as if he were going to pee. His orgasm was close, but distant; it couldn’t come in at any time.
He was terrified he’d cum without permission.
His slit got wider, his cock turned crimson red, and his balls were so tight that they appeared ridiculously small. It only emphasized the size of his fuck tool, and for a brief moment, pride rose in his chest.
His dick ached, and his body was covered in a sour sheen of sweat.
Jordan’s hands balled into fists when the last rod breached him. 10 mm going straight down his dick with relative ease. His moans filled the space, and Miles blushed, leaking loads of precum onto the floor. Even though he was kneeling in front of Jordan, there was no doubt that he was the one guiding the dance.
So much so that Jordan thought of pledging himself to him as a slave.
No. He firmly told himself.
Cumming, cumming, cumming.
Suddenly, he was pushed to the edge.
“Sir, I’m gonna cum!”
“Go on,” Miles buried the rod deep and held Jordan’s purple cock straight toward his face. Only a tiny portion of the rod stuck out of his slit. “Push the sound out, cum for me!”
The built-up pressure wasn’t enough at first, and the first spurt of cum pooled at the edges of the rod. The second spurt pushed it half of the way out, and the third sent it flying onto Jordan’s quivering abs. More cum shot out; his urethra burned from all the assault it had endured.
But Jordan embraced it.
His cock hole was wide, still open, ready for more.
Miles peered into it. “You know what would make your cock even better looking?”
Jordan nodded no.
“Getting it pierced.”
Blood drained from Jordan’s face, and Miles smiled viciously.
If he were to accept this proposal, would Miles reconsider his decision?
There was no certainty he would, but Jordan wanted to do it anyway. He had never thought of it, but now that Miles had mentioned it, it made sense.
Because once Miles was gone, he’d have something to remember him by.
“Maybe,” Jordan said.
If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting the author on Patreon.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.