I’ve been like this for hours now, and the torment, both physical and emotional, is unbelievable. Sigh...just another day as my hot wife’s slave.
I’m balanced on the very tips of my toes, my immensely aching feet locked into a pair of uncompromising ‘ballet boots’. My legs are spread far apart, held that way by the long iron bar locked to my ankles. My elbows and wrists are both cuffed tightly together behind my back, a horrible strain on my shoulders. Compounding this stress terribly, the cuffs on my wrists are locked to a steel cable connected to the newly installed ceiling winch. Mistress Luani has drawn that cable so far up that my arms are stretched perpendicular to the ceiling, forcing my body to bend so far over at the waist that my torso is parallel to the floor.
This makes breathing difficult of course. But in addition to this contorted posture I also have a stiff leather corset cinched tightly about my midriff, and a large rubber cock locked so deeply into my mouth that it actually enters my throat. Indeed I wouldn’t be able to breathe at all if that extensive gag-harness buckled all about my head wasn’t tightly roped to the base of my cock, drawing my head so radically back that my extended neck is agonizingly cramped. As for my throbbing prick, it has finally been temporarily freed from its cage, only to be pitilessly crushed by a pair of toothed two-inch plastic hair clips, one clamped along the length of the shaft and the other pinching shut the head. Thus my forever impotent erection is in constant excruciation, matched only by that in my nipples and balls.
Heavy weights are clamped to the former and hung from the latter, dragging endlessly down. Last and worst of all, an absolutely enormous vibrating plug has been forced deep into my rectum, stretching and stuffing and hotly buzzing away at my insides. How much more painful could things possibly get? And yet all this terrible physical torment is rendered almost inconsequential by the mere view I’m subjected to. Right in front of my face, my desperately beloved wife and her powerful lover Mistress Chantelle are thrashing with passion together on our former marital bed, where they’ve been making wild lesbian love ever since they finished locking me up this way.
When I suggested to my formerly shy Hawaiian wife that we liven up our sex life by engaging the services of a professional dominatrix, I never dreamed I’d end up losing her this way. Idiot me – now I’m nothing but a cock-locked cuckold, forever forced to impotently observe as my wonderful wife has daily sex with someone else, someone she clearly loves and is far more attracted to than me.
As always, I can’t decide which emotion hurts worse. Is it the burning jealousy I feel watching hulking Mistress Chantelle driving her strap-on violently in and out of my wife’s every hole, and doing so many other things to her she’d never have permitted me? Or is it the crushing, miserable despair I feel watching my wife writhe and scream with ever greater ecstasy, knowing that I never have and never could elicit such a wildly mindless response even if I were allowed to fuck her forever, when it’s increasingly obvious I’ll never be allowed to fuck her, ever again.
Together these terrible emotions torment me. First one then the other surges to the fore, then they mix and mingle nauseatingly before once again battling for supremacy, over and over forever. And when finally the glorious lovers exhaust themselves, crying out one last mutual climax before collapsing together to tenderly, lovingly kiss and cuddle and share exquisite intimacies, the agony of my exclusion is so incisive that I’m appalled my heartbreak doesn’t just kill me. Perhaps it’s only my desperate and yet fearful hope that they’ll now turn their mutual attention toward me, toward actively torturing and violating me that keeps me going. In the abysmally painful wallow my life has become, such once unthinkable abuse is all I have left to share with the woman I’m so inseparably committed to.
At last I get an inkling that this dubious reward and terribly perverted bit of fulfillment is indeed at hand. Breaking a long, searching soul kiss, my lovely wife breathes excitedly up at our mutual Mistress.
“How wonderfully exciting you always are, one true love of my life! Now, you said you had a couple of new toys to show me? Something to keep my Slut-boy even more on his toes than he already is?”
Mistress Chantelle prolongs the suspense a bit by squeezing and pulling Mistress Luani’s nipple until she gives a complex little cry of pain and arousal. Then she finally, slowly responds.
“I did indeed, my wonderfully lubricious young lover. I’m just positive you’ll want to buy them, and use them on him all the time. Put your new cock on while I get them out.”
Of course Mistress Chantelle’s cock never comes off, as far as I know. I’ve never yet seen her not sporting that huge black erection. This intimidating member bobs dangerously, excitingly, as she moves off the bed to access her ubiquitous black bag.
With her back to me I can’t see what new horrors she’s brought this time. But the way my wife squeals with shocked delight as she yet again dons her new huge, pink, nubble-covered penis, I know they must be excruciatingly extreme.
Then Mistress Chantelle turns and brandishes the first, and my (luckily healthy) heart lurches. Showing off her wicked implement – designed only for recalcitrant animals or prisoners (which am I?) – she delights in both my horror and my wife’s excitement.
Perhaps two feet long, this steel shaft has a padded grip and ends in a forked tip. Pressing a button in the grip, Mistress sends an arc of current flashing across that tip, appalling me and exciting Luani equally.
“How about a livestock prod? Think that’ll help keep your little piggy in line?”
“All right then,” Mistress Chantelle continues. “Speaking of fucking, check out this fucking thing!” With that she lifts her other hand, and the implement she’s displaying is oh so incredibly worse!
At first glance it looks like a normal hand-held household or workshop appliance, with an eighteen-inch body and cutaway hand grip. But attached to the protruding shaft is no vacuum hose, drill, or jigsaw blade. At the end of six inches of steel rod is a thick, ten-inch widely curved rubber cock. As I look on aghast, Mistress Chantelle demonstrates its capabilities for an even more delighted Luani.
“You see, like a jigsaw it can piston in and out, at five different speeds...”
The motor purrs, buzzes, whines and finally shrieks as she demonstrates each, turning that cock at last into a blur as it flies black and forth. I’m still gaping at this appalling cruelty when the next setting shocks me even further.
“It can also rotate like a drill, again at various speeds...”
Again she demonstrates. And the speed at which that curved cock eventually whirls makes it look like a solid, football-shaped oval. Absolutely aghast, I quail like a cornered kitten as Mistress Luani cries out her immediate acceptance.
“Totally awesome! You’re fucking-A right I want to buy both of them! I don’t care how much they cost! Slut-boy’s paying after all – in more ways than one!”
“Excellent!” declares Mistress Chantelle. “However, before I take his money, it’s only fair you that you give them both a test drive. Which one do you want to try out on your pathetic little Slut-boy first?”
“The power-fucker, of course!” she cries. “You can circle around us with the pig shocker meanwhile, and we’ll use them together on him. Then once we get bored we’ll switch, of course...”
So Mistress Chantelle hands over the power-fucker, which Mistress Luani proceeds to grease up well. Meanwhile the big dominatrix who ruined my life moves around behind me. Expecting a debilitating shock, I’m treated something surely worse, as she grabs the neck of that enormous plug, twists and wriggles and finally wrenches it from my gaping, agonized ass.
Holy shit, my sphincter must have surely split! Nothing else could possibly explain such incredible pain!
Of course I’m not permanently damaged. That would spoil all the fun, not to mention my decades of future usefulness. And the pain upcoming will certainly eventually educate me properly in the amount of excruciation my little slave ass is capable of providing. And so naturally here comes my gorgeous mistress-wife, naked but for her big erect cock and the even bigger motorized one she holds in her hand. Grinning at the way I sob and shake my harnessed, stretched back head, she laughs and nods with excited affirmation.
“Oh yeah, Slut-boy! I may wear out after several hours fucking you, but this thing won’t! Tell me, Mistress: how long can it last?”
“Forty-eight hours on a four-hour charge, honey,” answers Mistress Chantelle. “And it’s fully charged right now. Shall we see if we can run it dry?”
“Well I don’t know,” gloats my wife in return. “Let’s not rule anything out – except of course for Slut-boy spending the rest of his life dreading the mere sight of this thing! In fact, I’m pretty damn sure he dreads it already. Don’t you, Slut-boy?”
I nod vigorously, pleadingly at this. And of course both mistresses merely guffaw.
“Too bad, Slut-slave!” cries my only beloved as she steps up behind me. “This machine may be the only lover you ever get from now on!”
With that she rams that huge, thick, curved cock all the way up my still stretched open ass. Laughing delightedly at my squeal of pain and terrified wriggling, she then switches on the piston, mercifully at its slowest speed.
Still the pain is indescribable as it pulls back almost out and then punches back in, once, twice, a dozen, a hundred times! Pressing it deeper, Mistress Luani giggles at my gagged cries.
“Come on, Slut-boy! This is the lowest setting! You’re only getting fucked once every two seconds! Come on, Mistress! Distract our little Slut-boy as I nudge him up a notch – or maybe even two!”
With that two greatly increased agonies suddenly attack me simultaneously. Not only does the speed of the cock stabbing into me more than double immediately. Suddenly distracting me indeed is the high voltage shock that sears abruptly into one of my most sensitive areas, as Mistress Chantelle presses her dastardly prod to my distended, painfully stretched out left nipple.
Immediately I’m violently shuddering from two separate stimuli. The cock in my ass is now pounding me so hard and fast that the flesh of my lower body ripples constantly in response. At the same time my torso convulses so violently that only my bound, stretched up arms dampens these tremors. Of course my wailing is choked off by the cock in my throat and the wide swath of leather sealing shut my mouth, but my mistresses are highly gratified by my obvious somatic response.
“All right!” cries my wife, as she again presses that power-driving cock deeper into me. “Now we’re getting somewhere! Keep shocking him, lover! You keep shocking him and I’ll keep fucking him. In fact, let’s step it up even more! I’m going to level four! You give it to him right in his bloated full, never to be emptied, dragged out so far down balls! I think he’s just fucking ready for it!”
That I most certainly am not! Yet as always my true situation is irrelevant. The attack on my ass increases yet again, that big cock bludgeoning me so rapidly I can only hang limply from my arms and wail into my cock-gag. Then of course electricity is applied to my bulging purple scrotum. My entire body jerks, and spasms, I scream in pain and wait in terrible trepidation, wondering where that prod will hit me next.
Of course it shocks my penis, then each nipple, then my balls again, and then entirely random spots along my legs, buttocks, flanks, back and belly. Always it repeatedly returns to my most sensitive erogenous zones though, swamping me with so much unpredictable agony that I finally come to appreciate the cock pistoning into me several times a second as the lesser of two evils. Indeed, though it’s not my beloved wife’s hips delivering this insane butt-fucking, it’s still her at the controls. That’s all I need to finally find my usual arousal and fulfillment at her brutal hands. Of course, no sooner do I reach this accommodation than the game changes for the worse.
“I can tell you’re enjoying this now, Slut-boy,” Mistress Luani laughs, pressing that piston-dick deeper yet. “That didn’t take very long! I think we’ll save top speed for another day. Let’s just see how you like being drilled now!”
Suddenly the power-cock stops fucking me. Instead, pressed to its greatest depth yet, it begins to rotate. Spinning within my rectum, its curved shaft gouges me agonizingly around. This is a novel sensation, to say the least, and it immediately has me howling. Meanwhile of course Mistress Chantelle continues to cruelly, unpredictably shock me everywhere. Subjected to multiple electrical assaults, hung from my arms and balanced on my toes, bent over and choking on a giant cock, I soon find myself crying as miserably as ever. Both mistresses merely laugh at my misery, and constantly escalate their attacks. Mistress Luani keeps pressing deeper and increasing the speed at which she drills me out while Mistress Chantelle barely pauses between the shocks she keeps administering. For an hour or more they torture me thus, before trading implements and carrying on even more relentlessly.
Now it’s my lovely wife wielding the prod and laughing delightedly at my response, while Mistress Chantelle professionally power-fucks and drills out my agonized insides.
“Oh yeah, Slut-boy, is this thing wonderful or what? I don’t need to break the slightest sweat to punish you now! Just the merest touch,” Mistress Luani cruelly shocks the tip of my nose, and laughs again at my strangled scream, “and I can have you in instant agony. And with that power-fucker I can ream your ass insanely out for hours on end without expending any energy of my own. Mistress Chantelle is brilliant, is she not? Every new toy she sells us just enriches our lives more. I know you must be enjoying the ceiling winch and ballet boots. That’s why I’m going to leave you bound like this until it’s time for tomorrow’s chores. Hell, if stress positions and sleep deprivation are good enough torments for the government, they’re surely good enough for us.
“But that doesn’t mean I’m turning into a Republican or anything. In fact, I’m going to intentionally spite those evil bastards by gay cohabitating. Mistress Chantelle is going to move into my home and bed for good. Won’t that be exciting for us? Every night you will spend bound, suspended and tormented, cock-locked and impotent, watching Mistress make love to me in all the wonderful ways you never could, just waiting for us to find the time to torture you. What a wonderful wife and life you now have, eh Slut-boy? I know you can’t nod, with your head stretched all the way back, but flutter your eyelashes for me! Show me you love me, and your new life, or I’ll shock the very tip of your penis until it’s burned black!”
Naturally I do as I’m told, despite the horror overwhelming me at the future she describes. And in response Mistress Luani rewards me.
“Good boy! You’re such an exciting, obedient little Slut-boy. I couldn’t ask for a better husband. So I’m going to put my new slut-shocker down now, pull the gag-cock out of your mouth, and replace it with my own. I am going to violently fuck your face and throat Slut-boy, while Mistress drills your ass at the highest possible setting. Won’t that just be delightful?”
Again I rapidly flutter my lashes. By this time I don’t know if I’m lying or not. I only know that as Mistress Luani indeed pulls the cock from my throat and rams home her own, beginning yet another interminable face fucking, and Mistress Chantelle presses deeper and intolerably accelerates the agony in my ass, my painfully clamped erection throbs and strains like crazy.