Male Slave’s Corporal Punishment & Testicle Torment
This story is about an incident that took place about eight months ago. It sounds complicated, but the woman involved is my sister’s, sister-in-law. My sister is a fairly strict dom herself, and she “loaned” me to her sister-in-law who had gone through a divorce about six months earlier.
As part of my preparation, the woman, Carol, told me not to have an orgasm for at least five days before my visit. This was difficult, but I cheated a bit by masturbating three times on the day before my deadline began so at least the first few days would be easier. Nevertheless, I was still had a lot of energy when I saw her on the appointed day, which was a Friday.
That Friday was gray and depressing. I got to her home and, to my disappointment, we did not have sex immediately. In fact, I spent most of the afternoon and early evening cleaning her home and running errands for her. I did a good job because I love my sister and because Carol is also beautiful, although she has been in a terrible mood since she got divorced.
I had done a standard cleaning on Carol’s home: I de-webbed the ceilings, dusted, vaccumed (included all stairs), scoured the bathrooms and kitchen, washed all the windows, changed all the linens, did the laundry, re-packed the linen closet (it was not orderly), and hosed down the front walk, driveway, and back deck. Carol had sent me out to pick up her dry-cleaning and I also got about ten potted perennials to replace the ones that were in a planter next to the front door. They were all dead and it was terribly depressing.
Carol was pleased at the job I had done and seemed surprised that I didn’t ask her for money for the dry-cleaning or the plants. That thought hadn’t occurred to me, but Carol probably didn’t realize that my sister would have hung me up by my balls and used my face as a punching bag if I had.
Carol sat down on the sofa, kicked off her clogs, told me to strip, get down on the floor and massage her feet. This actually turned into what I can only call a combination of massage and worship. Although I myself would take a very severe whipping for the chance, I know that some people aren’t into this and so I won’t go into details. Suffice to say that, after a few minutes of massage, Carol wanted me to bow my head down to her feet and clean. Thoroughly.
When Carol was satisfied, she put her shoes back on and told me to follow on my hands and knees. She took me up the stairs to the third floor, which was actually the attic, but which they had finished and made into one large room. Hanging from the highest point of the gable ceiling was a long leather strap which ended in a single padded leather cuff, dangling in mid-air, about four feet off the ground. Carol opened a closet door and took out a small rattan cane. It looked tiny and useless. Using the tip of her cane as prod, she put me through about fifteen minute routine of stretching exercises. She made me stand with my legs as far apart as I could, she told me to cross my feet and then bend over to touch my toes, and several times she stood behind me and, holding both of my wrists in hers, gently lifted my wrists up as high as she could. She told me to concentrate on relaxing my muscles completely and let her do the lifting. After several tries I was amazed at how high she could lift my wrists. It actually felt really good, especially on the way down when she would lower my arms very slowly and gently.
When my arms and legs were warmed up, Carol told me to stand under the cuff hanging from the ceiling, spread my legs apart as far as I could, and hold my wrists behind my back. After I was in position, Carol pushed my wrists through the cuff, tightened it, and began to raise the cuffs higher and higher by adjusting the strap that hung from the ceiling. Occasionally she would push me forward a bit so that I was balanced as she pulled my wrists up.
In a few minutes my arms were lifted so high that they felt they were pointing straight up. Because Carol had made me stretch first it was not really a difficult position. My head was at the level of my knees, and my legs were very wide apart. Carol then gave me, if not the hardest whipping of my life, one that certainly left an impression on my, um, mind.
The rattan cane that I had thought looked so thin as to be ridiculous turned out to be a terror from hell. I can’t tell you how much that cane made me want to obey Carol. Each time she brought the cane down it raised a welt that looked like a length of sailor’s rope had been sliced in half and glued to my ass. Maybe it was partly because she hadn’t allowed me to orgasm for five days, but she hit my ass so hard I swear I could feel it in the head of my cock. She hit my ass so hard it made my balls vibrate.
Carol started just below my waist and worked her way down my ass cheeks and down the back of each thigh to just above the knee. She took a short break, and then, walking around me, repeated the procedure on the side of each thigh. She took another short break and standing behind me, whipped the insides of my thighs in the same way.
When she was finally finished, she left me hanging there and walked over to the closet where she had gotten her cane. She put the cane back and took an exercise mat out of the closet. Walking back to me, she dropped the mat on the floor in front of me, reached up with one hand to the strap that held me in place, pulled some buckle that released me and let me collapse into a heap on the mat.
Carol stood over me while I remained crumpled on the floor at her feet. I’m not even sure I completely understood that the whipping was over at that point. I was still wearing the cuffs and Carol helped me to stretch out on my stomach along the mat. She undid the cuff on my wrists and in slow motion my arms dropped to the floor by my side.
Carol brought a jar of some lotion from the closet and began to rub it gently into my welts. I felt as if she had flayed me. Everthing below my waist, down to my heels, felt as if I had been standing with my back turned to a very large campfire for a very long time. No matter how gentle Carol was, every time she touched a welt it was like being touched with a branding iron. She reached under my stomach and gently pulled my extremely humbled cock out from under me, so that it lay flat against the mat between my thighs. It was the first indication I’d had that she hadn’t beaten it off.
When I had recovered a bit, Carol told me to get up on my hands and knees, which was not easy to manage. She took off her belt and cinched it around my neck to serve as a combination collar and leash. I crawled slowly on my hands and knees by her side and she led me down a flight of stairs to the second floor and into her bedroom. When we reached the bed, Carol pulled all the covers off that I had so carefully put on earlier that day, and then guided me up onto the bed, telling me to lie on my back. I squirmed a bit because even Carol’s clean, soft sheets were terribly painful against my welts.
Carol had a very large, sort of southwest style bed with massive posts and she told me to stretch my arms and legs out as wide as I could. It was a bit of a relief, at least for my arms, because they had been pulled up and together for so long while she was whipping me. As I lay spread-eagled on her bed, Carol used some soft leather cuffs to spread-eagle me to the heavy posts. She did not stretch me so tightly that I was uncomfortable, but I couldn’t move very much either.
Moving up onto the bed, Carol straddled my chest and began carressing me. She sat on my stomach and leaned over let her breasts press against me, then she would sit up and circle my nipples with her fingertips. Then she leaned over again and let her beautiful silky hair slide across my face, letting me catch the scent from her hair. Turning her head back to me, she kissed me softly, but passionately, and then, breaking the contact of the kiss, slapped me lightly on the side of my face. She kissed me several more times, each time slapping me afterwards, first on one side, then on the other.
After a few minutes Carol moved down my body until she was sitting on the bed just between my spread legs, where she proceded to force me to an amazing erection. After the beating she had given me I would have thought it would be several days before I would have an erection, but almost without touching my cock, Carol proved me to be terribly wrong.
She gently held and caressed my balls, ran her hands along my spread thighs, sometimes gently, and sometimes slowly drawing her nails into me, which was painful but agonizingly erotic. She would reach up to pull my nipples or run her hands over my stomach, and scratch carefully at the base of my cock with her nails. In a few minutes, although she had never really touched my cock, I had a throbbing erection. The head of my cock was particularly swollen from not having any release for the past five days.
Carol was fiddling with something between my legs and I felt her slip something soft over my balls. I later learned it was a “cord keeper” that she had bought at a hardware store. It turns out it is basically a strip of “furry” velcro about two feet long. At one end is a three-inch length of the “hook” velcro, and at the other end is small, rubber buckle. Apparently the official use for this thing is to let you neatly tie up a really big extension cord when you aren’t using it, or something like that. The funny thing is that, not only is the strip made entirely of velcro, but it’s also elastic velcro and will stretch about six inches longer than its normal length.
Carol fed one end of the velcro strap through the rubber buckle and cinched it snugly around my balls. She pulled my scrotum up so that the strap was as low around my balls as possible and then began winding the strap around my scrotum. I rarely wear a ball stretcher because I am not, uh, slung low, as they say, but Carol did not seem fazed. She wound the strip around my balls until it reached the shaft of my cock and even then got a few more turns in before she smoothed the “hook” end of the strap down against the exposed “furry” part, which absolutely secured the strip in place.
Using the point of one fingernail, Carol pushed my bound balls up into the air and ordered me to look. It’s difficult to summarize my feelings at her treatment, but a lot of it was astonishment because I had never seen my balls that far from my body in my life. In fact, I did not even know that much space could possibly have existed between me and my balls. In fact I would have bet anything against it. But perhaps the most amazing effect that it had was on my cock. As I said, I very rarely wear a ball stretcher, but what Carol had done to me made my cock look like she had put a bicycle pump into me. I had the longest, most inflated looking erection in my life.
Carol reached into the nightstand drawer and took three condoms out of a box. They were the kind that are hard to find these days because they are the old-fashioned thicker ones. She opened the packages and in quick succession, rolled all three condoms onto my straining cock. Giving my balls a playful tug, Carol moved onto the bed and once again straddled my stomach. It felt as if she had a dripping furnace between her legs, and the feeling as she rubbed herself against my stomach was terribly arousing.
She leaned forward a bit and, using one hand, guided the head of my cock until it was just pressed against the opening of her incredibly well lubricated sex. Then, in one movement, she leaned back and mounted me completely. In some ways the way Carol worked me then was even more difficult than the whipping she had given me. I could feel the enormous heat from Carol’s cunt as she mounted me again and again. As she rode me agressively, she forced me to move slightly back and forth in my bonds so that my welts rubbed and scraped against the sheets, and, although painful, was also unbearably stimulating. It made me feel my erection was getting even larger, but tied spread-eagled as I was, I could only buck my hips slightly as Carol rode my engorged cock. No matter how hard she used me, no matter how excruciatingly excited I was, the heavy layers of condoms she had put on my cock kept me from receiving enough sensation to come.
I have no idea how long it lasted, but it very quickly became a genuine punishment. It was like being endlessly teased with the possibility of orgasm dangled in front of your nose, and being whipped at the same time. Carol rode me quickly, slowly, hard, soft; she held me inside of her while she rested, started up once again, and then, after what seemed an eternity, leaned forward, still keeping me hard inside of her, and lay against my chest, breathing deeply.
Unfortunately, I did not get any break while Carol lay exhausted against me. Although my cock felt as if Carol had beaten and then barbecued it, I was still as achingly hard as ever. Carol still held me deep inside her and the feeling her her breasts pressing against me made my cock throb painfully. Carol must have felt this because she sat up a bit, and with a smile told me that I deserved a bit of a reward for being such a good boy. For a brief moment I thought she was going to let me come, and I almost cried out loud at the thought, but instead she slowly she slipped off of me and turned around until she was straddling me again, this time so that she was sitting on my chest, facing my cock with her bottom just a few inches from my chin.
Carol lay down against me until her head was next to my groin, and taking my stretched and bound balls in one hand, adjusted her position until her dripping sex was just over my face. She twisted my balls and ordered me to clean her as she ground her sex against my face. I licked and lapped and sucked at her cunt as quickly and as worshipfully as I could, but Carol was not done with me yet. As I lapped at her cunt she held my stretched balls in one hand, and with the other hand began to claw lightly around the base of my cock with her nails. She had punished me so hard, and for so long, and I still had the most painful, burning erection that I actually started to cry as I worshipped her.
Carol used my tightly bound balls and aching cock, still wrapped in it layers of condoms, as control sticks as she made me thrust my tongue into her, lick, lap, suck, and pull at her cunt with my lips and tongue. When she wanted a break she would sit up so that her bottom was directly over my mouth. She tied a scarf around the column of my ball stretcher which she held in one hand and had picked up a riding crop which she held in the other. She wriggled a bit so that her cheeks spread and my mouth was pressed against her anus. She told me to put the tip of my tongue against her and that when she gave me the signal she was going to ride my tongue. I did not know what the signal was going to be, but I felt her pulling on the scarf she had tied to my balls until my stretched balls were pointing straight in the air. I may barely have heard the sound of her crop coming down, but then the leather loop snapped against my balls and my tongue exploded out of my mouth and into her bottom. I had no idea I was capable of putting my tongue out that far.
Carol beat me until I felt that my tongue was getting farther into her than my cock had been. Using the crop and the leash she made me tongue her fast or slow, shallow or deep. She whipped my balls soundly, hitting each ball from the side, or popping them both by swinging down from the top. She beat the stretched column of my balls and the fronts of my thighs that she hadn’t been able to reach the last time she had whipped me. I was sobbing as I tongued her and I did not stop when Carol changed position again, leaning forward so that I could worship her cunt while she inflicted further torment on the base of my cock with her nails.
When it was finally over, Carol slid off of me and lay beside me on the bed. She carressed my body and snuggled against me. Having been in spread-eagled bondage for so long, my body felt as if it had been drawn and quartered, or keelhauled, or tortured on a rack. Carol reached down between my legs and gently unwrapped my balls. Although every muscle in my body ached, the experience of having my balls released from bondage at that moment was amazing. I could actually feel my balls hanging down between my spread legs, pressing against my skin where it felt like they had never pressed before. The funny thing is that, I could feel my balls with the skin around my prostate, but I could also feel the skin around my prostate with my balls. It was a very strange sensation. My balls were like two little whipped dogs that were trying to climb back into my body to reach some safe haven; somewhere around my ears from the way it felt. I could actually feel my balls trying to climb back into me. It was a not unpleasant sensation that lasted for several hours after the experience.
Carol gently released my wrist and ankle cuffs and massaged my knees, ankles, and shoulders until I could move a bit. Then she helped me slide off of her bed and arranged me into a position on the floor. I ended up kneeling, sitting on my heels with my back straight, my knees spread wide apart, and my toes touching. Carol wanted me to hold my wrists behind my back, but my arms were still stiff, so to make it easier for me she tied my wrists behind my back with a leather belt.
Carol sat on the edge of her belt and rested her feet on my spread thighs. Reaching forward, she grasped the flattened tip of the condoms, which I was still wearing, and began to slowly pull the condoms off of my cock. It was somewhat painful and perhaps because of it, and the feeling of the warmth of her feet pressing against the insides of my thighs, my cock began to stiffen from a semi-erect state. When she had pulled the condoms off, my cock was a long, thin, bobbing column. It actually hurt to have an erection. It felt that my cock had been punished so much that it was experiencing a kind of exhausted fatigue, but my erection continued to grow as I knelt before Carol as she held me under her feet.
When my bobbing erection has reached an aching height, Carol told me that she was done with me for the day and that she did not need me to be erect any longer. Carol told me that she was going to give me a chance to obey and that she wanted to see my cock go limp and bow down to her. I wanted to obey Carol so much at that moment that I would have gratefuly pressed my head to the floor while she put my balls in a guillotine if she had wanted to. But I had no control over my cock. My aching, useless erection continued to bob between my legs. The head of my cock was pointed directly at Carol’s face. Kneeling before her, with her feet pressed against my thighs, and looking up at her incredible body, I felt that my cock was straining up toward her, praying to her and begging for release.
In a tone of admonishment, Carol told me that I had failed, and that she was now going to have to remove my erection for me. She pressed her feet a little harder against my thighs, forcing my knees slightly wider apart and told me that I should not try to move my knees together. Leaning foward, Carol lifted her right hand up as high as she could, and in one movement swung her entire arm down like a whip so that the open palm of her hand smacked against the head and shaft of my cock. It’s difficult to describe the experience of that beating. The first time she hit me, it felt like she had thrust an electric prod into my bottom. A shock went from my bottom, into my balls, and directly up the shaft of my cock. She was really disciplining me in a strange, but awesome way. The combination of the pain in my knees from kneeling on the wooden floor, the discomfort in my shoulders and from my wrists being held behind my back, and the fact that she kept my knees forced so helplessly wide apart as she hit my cock, the center of my maleness and myself. I know it doesn’t sound good to admit this, but the pain of her blow sent a shock directly into my brain. Every time she hit me, I had the clearest realization that as a male, my brains are between my legs.
She paused and looked down into my eyes as if she knew what I was experiencing. Then her hand came up again, this time on the opposite side of her head, and her arm whipped down once more, and this time the back of her hand struck directly against the head of my cock. Carol got in three or four more slaps until, as she had wanted, my cock began to bow down to her and made it difficult for her to hit. Unfazed, and perhaps because I had not been able to obey her, Carol slid off the bed onto the floor in front of me with her crop in one hand.
She reached her free hand between my legs, and warning me with a glance not to try and move my knees together, slipped her hand under me so that my rapidly shrinking cock lay flat against her palm. Lifting up her crop, Carol proceeded to deliver a whistling set of blows against the head and shaft of my now very limp cock. Each time she struck me I jumped and jerked on my knees, but I could make no other effort to protect myself. If anything, each time she hit me somehow forced my knees a bit wider apart, making me even more helpless and exposed.
When Carol was done my cock was the size and color of a reddish acorn and I was half sobbing and half whimpering. Carol stood, and reaching her hands behind my head, pulled my head against her waist and held me there as I cried. After a moment of holding me and petting my head, Carol told me that I was now going to come for her. I looked up her in tear-streaked wonder as she stood towering over me, completely understanding how useless what I had between my legs was, wanting more than anything to obey her, but not knowing how I could in my current state.
Carol understand me exactly and told me not to worry because it didn’t have anything to do with my normal male wants or needs. She moved behind me and removed the belt from my wrists. My shoulders were so stiff that my arms only slowly returned to my side, and Carol helped me, guiding my head and chest forward until, still on my knees, I was bowed down completely to the floor just in front of her bed. From under her bed, Carol pulled a plastic dog dish and positioned it so that it was between my spread knees and directly under my limp, dangling cock.
From a drawer in her nightstand Carol took three metal spring clamps and clipped them, in a triangular area onto the foreskin of my cock. I very clearly felt the pain of the metal clamps on the sensitive skin on my cock, but I was experiencing such intense feelings of love and devotion to Carol that I felt the pain was just going into me. I felt I was submitting to the pain. The next sensation I felt was when Carol pressed the tip of what felt like an enormous dildo against my bottom. She had lubricated it, but I was not prepared. Gently, but without stopping, she pushed the entire length of the dildo into me. It hurt terribly, and it’s very difficult to describe, but I felt that the pain was Carol’s way of teaching me to submit. No matter how much it hurt, I would have done anything to make it easier for her.
Carol took a long piece of twine, made a noose in one end and cinched it around the ends of the three clamps hanging from my foreskin. The new pressure from the clamps made my eyes water, but I tried my best not to move. Standing, she pulled the string back between my thighs, between my cheeks, and held onto the long free end as she returned to sit on the bed. Once she had seated herself comfortably, resting her feet on my back, Carol began to twitch the string that she held in her fingers.
Each time she jerked the string, the clamps on my foreskin jumped and swung and I experienced the strangest feelings in my cock. I could feel the dull pressure of the clamps, and the pinching pain of their edges against my skin, which was emphasized when she pulled the string, but I began to feel as if the clamps were performing a kind of painful stroking of my completely limp cock. As the clamps jerked, and twitched, and tore at my cock, I felt a kind of pressure building far below the base of my cock and my entire body felt hot, especially the shaft of my cock.
In a few minutes, as I knelt before Carol, with my knees wide and my head and chest pressed to the floor at her feet, my back arched involuntarily and I gave a small cry as I experienced the strangest orgasm of my life. It was as if a spigot in my body had been released. With almost no sensation, a torrent of come poured from my completely limp cock into the dog dish on the floor. I felt that my entire body had been shrunk to the size of a kitchen sponge that Carol had taken in her two hands and wrung thoroughly.
When it was over, Carol pushed her foot under my chin and guided me up until I was on my hands and knees before her. She reached between my legs with her foot and dragged the dog bowl out from under me. When the dish was between her feet, she told me to bow down and drink my come from the bowl. I dumbly obeyed. I bowed down, put my face into the plastic bowl and began to lap up my still hot come. Carol rested one foot on the back of my head as I licked the bowl. The strangest part was that, although I have obeyed many orders from women, I have never felt more controlled that at that moment. Although she didn’t actually touch me, I almost felt her hands pushing my head down into the bowl. I felt Carol requiring me to lick, and I felt Carol make me swallow. I felt as if I were almost observing her control me.
After I cleaned the bowl to Carol’s satisfaction, she took the clamps off of my cock and led me on my hands and knees out of her bedroom into the corridor to the linen closet. She opened the door of the closet and I noticed for the first time, that there was an empty space at the bottom of the closet. The first shelf was about fifteen inches off the floor. The bottom of the closet was empty except for a small mat, like doggy bed, and a wide leather collar that was joined to a pair of padded leather cuffs by a long metal chain.
Carol told me to get into my bed and I crawled as best as I could into the small space. When I was completely inside, she buckled the collar around my neck and fastened the cuffs on my wrists. The chain that linked collar and cuffs ran through a metal hook set into the baseboarding, and Carol explained that was to keep me from masturbating while I rested. Carol stood up, pressed the bottom of her foot against my mouth for me to kiss, and closed the door of the closet. But I was asleep before the lock clicked shut.