Donovan
The black cuffs were comfortable, although they tightly secured his ankles and wrists. Donovan was exposed on the bed like a trophy, spreadeagled. His eyes darted around as Cole rummaged under his bed, the clink of metal and the sound of leather alarming him as the seconds passed. He regretted agreeing to this. He had put himself in this predicament, and now he would endure his punishment just as promised.
He was already hard, his length flushed again and aching to be touched.
Cole popped from under the bed with two things.
A cockring, clear rubber with “Stretch” written over it in raised lettering, and a long, thin chain with clamps attached. The chain gleamed ominously under the room's dim lighting, and darkness swallowed everything around him. Donovan was hyper-focused on what was going to happen.
He knew.
His tight muscles wouldn’t be of any use; they bulged and screamed and tugged at the restraints, but they held him down. Cole had ensured they were attached to the bed frame so nobody could escape, and again, Donovan wondered how many guys had been in his exact position.
Something tugged at him, churned in the pit of his stomach, telling him he needed more than this. From Cole, from anyone.
The play was fun, but being used wasn’t enough.
He sighed, gazing up at the ceiling, transfixed.
Cole noticed. “Is something wrong?”
His hands dropped to his sides.
“Nah,” Donovan replied absentmindedly, redirecting his attention to him by turning his head with a grin dug in his cheeks. “I’m just scared, sir. But I’ll be your good boy.”
Cole threw his tools on the bed between Donovan’s hairy and muscular legs. He then knelt on the bed and leaned in for a deep kiss. His breath was hot and tasted of cinnamon. Donovan hadn’t noticed the smell before, but it was a welcome addition to everything else. It hugged him in a sense of security, and right now, it was welcome.
He quivered, pushing back his tongue against Cole’s. He tasted him hungrily and nipped his lips.
Cole winced but smiled, weighing down on Donovan and losing himself to the moment as well. They made out, exchanging spit with long, drawn-out moans. Cole gripped his hair gently with one hand, lovingly massaged his right ear with his thumb, while his other hand mapped out the rest of his body. Donovan felt the tension leave him bit by bit. He unclenched his jaw, released his fists, and his heart raced for a new reason.
His worries were relegated to a messy corner of his mind.
Then, Cole moved back and stared at him. He was a predator, and all the sweetness drained from his eyes, which were sparkling a split second ago.
“All of this doesn’t change the fact that you must be punished,” he twisted his left nipple. “You understand that, right?”
“Yes,” Donovan agreed weakly.
Cole kissed him, confusion written in his finely carved features. His pale skin was golden under the light, and his hazel irises looked nearly black. His soft hand playfully squeezed Donovan’s cheek. After that, he picked up the items he had chosen for himself.
“You know what this is?” He asked, as he played with the rubber ring.
“It’s a cockring, sir.”
“A ball stretcher to be exact, I guess I don’t need to tell you where it’s gonna go.”
“No, sir.”
“Now brace yourself, it might hurt a little as I squeeze you in,” Cole patted his leg. “But this is just a fraction of what you’ll go through today.”
“Fuck, sir,” Donovan panicked. “I’m so sorry I came. I just couldn’t hold it. I swear I’ll do better, man!”
“It’s too late,” he paused. “Man?”
“Sir, Sir!”
“Good boy… But I guess I’ll have to add a little something for that slip-up, too.”
Donovan fought against the restraints; the bed creaked loudly, but with all his strength, he wasn’t able to rip off his ties. He was trapped, a sacrificial lamb on an altar meant for slaughter. He frowned, but the words swirling in his head didn’t come out.
Stop! Stop this!
But they did not escape his lips.
His cock was rock hard, the veins lewdly pumping more blood up his shaft. His balls were as tight as they could be, bulbous and smooth after Cole had shaved them himself. His tanned skin stretched over his abs, and his thick chest rose fast as he breathed. His hips were thrusting into the air, oblivious to his inner turmoil.
“Please, sir, please, don’t hurt me too much.”
“We’re gonna go step by step,” Cole claimed. “You’ll be hurting, but I won’t hurt you as much as more experienced slaves.”
Slave. The weight of the word pinned him to the bed.
“But your punishments will become harsher as time goes by, tamed jocks learn to take more severe methods, and if you choose to follow through with whatever this is… then you’ll have to learn to take the pain too.”
Donovan slammed the back of his head into the pillow. He hated how easy it was to bend to Cole’s will. He hated how easily he had given in to him. And most of all, he hated how he would keep doing that for the foreseeable future.
“I’ll do my best, master.”
“That’s a good slave.”
The rubber stretched over his balls, but they were too big to fit easily. So, Cole pushed them in, pressing into each nut with his thumbs and sliding on the ball, stretching by holding it with his forefingers. Donovan’s hands balled into fists, and his arms pulled on the restraints, hard. He tried to pull away, but he was trapped.
That’s when he realized what would follow would be much worse.
Fear gripped him, and he began to sweat profusely, even though the room hadn’t been too hot before. His teeth ground, his ears rang, and his eyes were so tightly shut that he started to see stars dancing.
“Breathe,” Cole said, and clipped the first clamp to one nipple.
The pain was sharp, the steel cold on his sensitive nip.
“Sir!” Donovan yelled.
“What is it, boy?”
“Not the clamps, sir, please.” his balls were already aching; he peered at them and saw they were shiny and red, two perfectly rounded plums. “It’s too much.”
Cole didn’t listen, but there was compassion behind the sadism. He stroked Donovan’s pecs and grazed his ribs with his nails. It tickled, the sensation replacing the pain succinctly.
Then the second clamp was hooked to his other nipple. Donovan sucked in a breath and grunted.
“My good boy, you’re doing great.”
“What’s next, sir?” Donovan asked boldly, wanting it to be over.
“Oh, well…” Cole slid between his legs elegantly and took hold of the stretcher. Further squeezing his balls. “These are so fucking sexy, but they’re responsible for your failure.”
Cole raised his palm over his ballsack, and Donovan understood.
“I’m begging you, sir, no… I can’t take this!” He begged, trying to stray from his owner’s grip. “Please, anything else but not this!”
The first slap hit him; it wasn’t hard, but it was enough for Donovan to cry out. The sting in his nuts sent jolts of ecstasy through him. His alpha male personality, thoroughly drained and forgotten.
The second slap was more brutal, and the pain it caused brought tears to Donovan’s eyes. They hung on his lashes but didn’t fall; he shut his eyelids and accepted his fate.
“Why is this happening, Donovan?”
“Because I came without permission,” he admitted, the shame washing over him. “A good jock shouldn’t cum without his owner’s permission.”
“That’s a good boy!”
SLAP.
This one hit so hard that Donovan felt as if his nuts had gone up his throat. Another followed, and another.
The more his balls were hit, the easier it was to take. It meant Cole hit harder every time. Donovan’s cries echoed through the apartment, and the battering rain outside did little to cover his pleas. He begged, pleaded, and cried. But Cole didn’t stop. He didn’t bend.
Donovan was in a daze when it finally ended; his cock was leaking so much precum, and his stomach was completely drenched. It hadn’t gone soft through the ordeal, which pleased Cole, who gave it a few strokes.
“How are you feeling?” Cole asked tenderly, massaging the nuts he had so passionately tortured.
“It hurts so bad, sir. I’m so sorry I disobeyed you, sir.”
“You’ll fail again, it’s normal. But I expect to take your punishment as a good jock should.”
“Yes, sir,” Donovan sniffled.
“But we are not quite done yet,” Cole pulled on the silvery chain, and Donovan’s nipples burned. “You still have ten good slaps to take.”
He pulled harder, but the clamps didn’t budge. However, Donovan felt as if his nipples were going to be ripped off his chest.
“Each time I hit, you’re going to say HARDER. Is that clear?”
The humiliation crept its way up, and tears welled up again.
“Yes, sir,” he said, defeated. “I understand.”
The first hit was terrible. His already tortured balls had endured so much that they could’ve been cracked open with a single blow.
“Harder, sir!”
The second hit caused Donovan to arch his back, pulling on all four corners of the bed. He couldn’t breathe; his heart pounded in his ribcage, seeking a way out.
“Harder, sir!”
SLAP.
“Fuck…” Donovan mumbled, drooling. “HARDER, SIR!”
SLAP.
All the while, Cole taunted his nipples. They were trapped in the clamps and ached to be freed. There wasn’t any reprieve between the slapping and the tugging; Donovan was sent on autopilot mode. There was only one thing on his mind, and it was obedience. It was submission. It was to belong to Cole.
But a spark was there.
Defiance.
“Fuck, man! HARDER, SIR!”
He was crying, not audibly, but his rosy cheeks were wet and prickled.
“Harder, sir!” He said more weakly.
But Cole didn’t go any easier on him.
The next five slaps were unbearable, and with each of them, Donovan’s reserves broke. He cried, but he didn’t wail. He was the perfect picture of a hot, broken jock. He even spread his legs wider to let Cole hit him harder. But as he lost himself to the punishment, fully taking in his new position as an owned jock.
On the tenth slap, the hardest of all, he thought he was going to throw up. At the exact time the palm of Cole’s hand hit his tenderized sack, his other hand ripped the clamps away.
Donovan screamed, his perked-up nips all red and flattened. His pecs jumped uncontrollably; at the same time, his balls were numb, and his cock throbbed horribly. He wanted to cum again.
Cole unfastened his bounds, and Donovan lifted his knees to his chest as his mind wandered off.
He was owned.
He was Cole’s property.
But he was also Donovan, and Donovan wanted more than just being a toy.
“Hey, big guy,” Cole said, settling beside him. His own cock was hard, but he didn’t pay it any mind. “Tell me how you feel.”
“Used, humiliated… owned,” Donovan let out in a trembling sigh. He rubbed his eyes and looked at his tormentor, such an angelic face for a sadist. “But I enjoyed it.”
He stared at his aching cock, the ball stretched still, collaring his balls.
Cole hugged him, kissing his neck, and put his chin on his shoulder. Donovan was hesitant; his whole demeanor wasn’t as confident as before, and he seemed more fragile. Unsure of what to do next, Donovan grabbed the opportunity.
“I wanna be yours,” Donovan said. “I know it hasn’t been long, and this is just some fun play and stuff. But I don’t want just to be your boy toy. I want you to give yourself to me if I give myself to you. I want us to… fuck,” he exhaled sharply. “Let’s be more, that’s it.”
“Like… boyfriends?” Cole asked hesitantly.
“Like boyfriends,” Donovan repeated.
Silence settled, but Cole didn’t move away. He squeezed him tighter and massaged his balls as he drew a trail of kisses on Donovan’s broad back.
“I don’t know how I’ll be. I mean, I don’t know if I am what you’re looking for in someone.”
“Do you want me as your boy?” Donovan asked bluntly.
“Yes.”
“Then consider it.”
Donovan hopped off the bed and took off the stretcher. The pain in his balls was unbearable, and as he got dressed, every part of him screamed. The fabric brushing his nips was too much, his balls wanted to hang freely, and his cock hadn’t gone soft yet.
“If we agree on just playing, I want us to discuss boundaries,” Donovan explained. “But if you want me fully, as your boy and boyfriend, then I’d be willing to do anything you like.” He picked up the stretcher. “I’ll hold on to this.”
Donovan kissed Cole. “Bye.”
“Bye,” Cole replied with a strange look on his face.
Donovan left, his own wants and needs a whirlwind of possibilities he still had to sort out. He truly hoped Cole would come around; he had too much fun during their play sessions. But he also didn’t wish to give himself to someone who wasn’t ready to open up.
Outside, the rain was still pouring. But it didn’t wash away his doubts.
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