Sam's Suffering

Station two doesn’t look like much. Honestly, its empty aside from a platform and some rope.

“On your back, Slave.” Master Brad orders me.

I lie on my back and my Masters tie ropes around my wrists and ankles. I wonder where this is going. 

Both ends of the rope are secured at my foot end. Very curious how this will turn out. 

Master Tom works on tying a loop of rope around my waist and below my ass while Master Brad attaches it to a pulley above. I understand now.

“You ready to see the Slave suffer under stress?”

The crowd gets rowdy. I’m hoisted up in the air, maybe six feet. My hips are pulled up high while my wrists and ankles are pulled down hard. They didn’t give me enough rope to have my body level. It’s incredibly devious and I scream into my gag as my muscles pull in different directions. 

Twenty men approach me with something in their hands and place it under my body. Most of them also take the opportunity while they are near me to touch me. Most spank my ass. A few suck my cock for a couple of moments. 

I’m contorted in such a way that I can look below me to see them pile lit candles under my torso. The heat builds quickly, becoming uncomfortable. I whimper. 

Sir Brandon approaches last. He plays with my head, moving the flame of his candle quickly across my skin to make me really feel it. He takes great pleasure at making me dance and whimper as the flames lightly burn me.

He turns my face toward his. “Do you regret this life yet, slave?” 

“No, Shir!” Calling me slave makes me hard.

“Good.” He smiles. “ I hope to see you here every month. Everything your Masters said about you is true. You suffer beautifully, and I want to hurt you. I want to come to your home and torture you.”

DRIP.

“NNNGH!” I writhe in my bonds.

 Sir Brandon drizzles hot wax on my cock.

“But for now, I’m going to watch you suffer on your own.”

Sir Brandon peels the wax from me,  licks my cock, and pulls it back in my leather jock before returning to his seat. Not much happens for the next two hours, but my suffering is horrible. These men understand that sometimes, a body can suffer even worse by itself in a position like that. They sit back and enjoy me sweat, squirm, and eventually cry.

I settle into my predicament, watching the men around me chat with each other, suck each other off, and some take their boys to a room in the back with their dom friends. I gather this is a bit of a break for these guys. Not for me, however. 

My sweat cascades from my body and collects in my boots. The heat is too much for me, but what can I do?

I turn to look at my Masters, hoping for support. They are not looking at me. Instead they chat and laugh with other Doms. One of them happens to be Sir Brandon, who gestures to me. Master Tom nods. Sir Brandon exchanges cash with Master Tom and Master Brad. I can’t help but think that he’s paying them to do something with me. I’m extremely nervous but also a little turned on. 

Sir Brandon approaches me after what feels like days

“Hello, Slave Sam.” He drags his gloved fingers across my stretched torso as he talks to me. “I wanted to tell you that your body, contorted in pain like it is, is driving me absolutely insane. I love it and I purchased you for the weekend once you are done here. You’re coming home with me to suffer in my dungeon until Monday morning after this party is over.”

I tremble. Sir Brandon chuckles. He runs his fingers through my hair with one hand and grips my cheeks with the other. 

“That’s exactly the response I was hoping to see. Don’t be scared. You enjoy this. Every time we hurt you, your cock gets even harder. “

Sir Brandon takes the pulley and lowers me to the ground. The heat from the candles becomes more intense. I scream into my gag.

“UGHHH FUCK! PLEASE HAVE MERCY, SIR!”

The men in the audience cum like crazy at my suffering.

Sir Brandon blows out the candles. “You’re done with this station. What mercy do you need?”

The crowd cleans up their messes and I’m released from this stress position, finally and lead to station three.