Date: Sat, 11 Feb 2006 04:34:50 -0800 (PST) From: NiteSearcher2000 Subject: Pool Table and My Balls: Chapter 23 This story is not completely fictional. Nor is it the truth and nothing but the truth. The names have definitely been changed to protect the guilty. We are all disease free and stay that way by protecting ourselves whenever we play with anyone but each other. Descriptions of unprotected sex are fictional because I'm imaginative and not stupid. You know the rules... Don't read this if you're a minor or are offended by gay or BDSM expression. Don't even think about reproducing or publishing it without my permission. Remember, I have sadistic friends who like to punish people! <> PRELUDE TO THIS CHAPTER Chapters 23 and the upcoming chapter 24 are intrinsically linked together. I struggled trying to decide if I should post them both as one very long chapter or split them. You see which I decided. On another note: Thank you to all who are writing with your appreciation and affirmation of the story.... Those of you who are writing upset with Steven,,,, I get it. I understand why. BUT those of you who are saying I should break up with him,,,,, come on, do you think I would end a thirty year relationship with my best frind since Kindergarten, who I obviously love, because we seem to be going through a little rough spot with some tension? In a relationship that has lasted this long there are bound to be rough spots. Besides, trust him and give him some credit, I do. Chapter 23 Fear. I feel pure fear. Not the fear of being hurt. I know I'm going to hurt. Their desire to inflict pain and my need and desire to feel it guarantees that. It's not even the fear of being harmed. I know they... that Michael, won't allow me to be harmed. In the end I'll be fine. It is the fear that this time I really am nothing more than an object, a toy, or a thing. I am not a part of this group. They are together and I am not among them. They don't know me in any other context than as a slave. They don't even know my name. My feelings, my desires, my likes, my dislikes, my preferences have no part in any of this. The fear is that I'm alone here. The fear is that I'm lonely here. I fucked it up! Without even realizing it, despite my determination not to fuck it up, I did it anyway. Steven's words echo in my head, "I'll forgive you... but you know forgiveness and penance are not the same thing. You need to do penance first. Unfortunately, you also need the punishment to reinforce the lesson. You're not a quick learner when it comes to the hard lessons." I finally get it! I wish Steven were here so I could tell him I finally get it, but I understand why he's not here, why he can't be here. He'd bail me out. If he were here he'd rescue me and he's right. I'm a slow learner when it comes to the hard lessons and unfortunately I do seem to need the punishment to reinforce the lesson. I fucked up because I haven't put him first. It's that simple. It's really all he wants. It's not that I submit to others that bothers him, it's that he wants me to submit to him and he'll decide who gets to use me. It's not supposed to be about what I want done to me and who I want to do it it's about what he wants done to me and who he wants to do it. It's should be me trusting that he will see to it that my needs and desires get met and satisfied. It's about me being grateful when he gives me what I want and need not me being pissed at him when he doesn't. It should be me wanting to please him, not me pleasing everyone. I expect him to enjoy my being used but I got all pissy when I watched him using someone else. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I could be there with him instead of here. I also remember when he said, "If you want or need a beating ask for it. Don't fuck up just to get punished because if you're being punished for fucking up it won't be fun for either of us." Tonight is my punishment for fucking up. Tonight will not be fun. Tonight is my penance. The only consolation is his promise to forgive me after I've done my penance. The first kick to my balls is hard enough to drop me to the floor if Michael wasn't holding me. The kick to my stomach doubles me over despite his tight grasp. I know I could use my safe word right now and walk out of here and straight into Steven's arms, but I need to do my penance. I need to take this like a man. Not so he'll forgive me but so he'll respect me. So he'll trust me. So I'll respect myself. So I can look him in the eye and tell him that I suffered the consequences of my behaviors and he didn't have to come rescue me. The shot to my arm makes us both turn from the force of the blow. I watch in slow motion as the next shot to my other arm comes toward me. Michael lowers me to the ground as the force of that punch lands. The rapid jabs to my exposed thigh cause me to instinctively roll over and consequently "offer" them my other thigh. The blows there are even harder. With my arms bound behind my back the only way I can get around is to roll. I roll fast so that the blows don't land in the same spot twice. I get punched or kicked everywhere. I keep my thighs together and pulled up even as I roll to protect my cock and balls as well as my stomach. I roll back and forth trying to avoid getting pinned against a wall. Sometimes I roll myself right into the midst of them trying to avoid getting trapped. Finally exhausted, I lay panting on the floor curled in a fetal position. Tears are streaming down my face, drool is edging from the corner of my mouth, and snot is running out my nose. An occasional punch or kick land and I barely feel them because the pain I am already feeling is blocking out any new pain. They stop, but only because they're bored. "Stand up!" I lay there trying to decide if I want to or not. "You giving up loser? The going's getting tough so tough boy is gonna get going? Want me to call your daddy for you? How's that work for you, boy?" He holds his hand up in that stupid position to imitate talking on the phone. "Hello Steven, can you please come pick up your boy. He's crying like a baby and needs his big daddy to protect him. Oh you know how it is, he thought he could handle things on his own but he's really not man enough to do that. In fact, he's not a man at all so she needs you to be her knight in shining armor to come rescue his damsel in distress. You little turd, would you really embarrass him like that?" His words bite! He knows exactly how to push my buttons. He grabs a flogger from the wall and slashes it across my back. "I said get up!" He slashes the flogger across me again as I am getting up. He lands more blows to my back as I stand there defiantly. I refuse to cave. I'm determined to maintain whatever pride and dignity I have left. "Now that's the boy I know and love." His tone is sarcastic and mocking. He steps in front of me and hits me with the flogger across my stomach. The next one is a little bit higher. I tip my head back to give him full access. He gets into a rhythmic pattern and moves around my body, six soft, and one hard. The bastard knows I'd figure out the pattern quickly and consistently dread that seventh blow. He does it a long time before he tires of the flogging. For me it evened out the pain. I just hurt. "Circle around gentlemen. It's time for a game of tag." He wipes my face roughly with a towel and then places a loose fitting hood over my head. The elastic band closes around my neck holding it in place. I can see light through it but barely make out their shadows. "Game time!" He spins me around a couple of times to disorient me and then gives me a light shove forward. A punch lands to my gut and I'm spun and pushed forward again. I take a shot to the arm and move away from it on my own. A belt slashes across the front of my upper thighs and I turn quickly to avoid a second one, which catches me across the ass. I blindly move forward to escape the belt and I'm slashed across the chest with what feels like a rubber hose again. I move quickly to the right and take a hard swat from a paddle against the side of my thigh. I know which ever way I move there will be something but I can't stay still once I know what's coming. I turn and move left and take a hard stinging shock right to my nipple. I back away quickly but not before I'm shocked right on the head of my cock. I back up so fast I almost fall but someone catches me and stands me upright again before pushing me back into the game. This is more my style. For whatever the reason this is arousing to me and I can feel my cock swelling. As I knew it would happen, someone takes a swipe at my hardening dick and it stings like hell. A belt slashes across my upper arm. I stop moving for a second to get my bearings and regain my footing. The next slash of the belt across my back doesn't get me to move but the following one straight across my stomach gets me moving backward as fast as I can. Someone catches me in a bear hug and holds me while someone else slaps me repeatedly on my pelvis right above my dick. I take it as long as I can and pull my legs up to protect myself. The guy holding me has my whole weight until two other guys grab my legs and hold them up there. My ass gets a wicked paddling as they hold me in the air. I hear Michael's voice. "Fuck him! Go ahead just fuck him. He's in the perfect position to get butt fucked." A hand cold with lube smacks down right on my asshole. He hits me again but pushes his finger up my hole as he lands the slap. The next thing I feel is his cock pushing at my back door. "Just push it in, it's supposed to hurt him." He follows Michael's directions and pushes his dick straight up my ass. I scream and buck with the initial pain, "That's it, don't let it feel good for him. Make him hurt. Fuck him hard." The guy bangs into my boy cunt mercilessly as they continue to hold me. "Don't stop, man. Use his cunt for your pleasure." He does until he pulls out and shoots his load all over my cock and balls. They lower me to the ground. Michael rolls me over and unclips my hands. "Get on all fours." He slaps me before I can possibly obey him. A slap lands with every word he says; "I said get on all fours." I obey him as quickly as I can. As soon as I'm in position a guy mounts me doggie style and pumps his dick up my ass. After about a dozen strokes he pulls out and pushes me around with his foot and another guy enters me. They take their turns passing me around and fucking me, each for a short time only, and then passing me on to the next one. One guy fucks me so hard I collapse to the ground beneath him. Pinning me down with his full weight he fucks me until he cums up my ass. "Get back on all fours!" I get up as fast as I can. The hood is pulled off. "We're all going to fuck you. Crawl over and lick the feet of the guy you want to go next." I can't win this game. Every guy will be rougher than the one before because they'll be pissed I didn't pick them first. I crawl over to the biggest, meanest looking one and bow before him. I lick his feet. Stepping around me he picks me up by my hips and pulls me onto his big, wet, uncut dick. I try to balance on my hands and feet as he holds my ass high for his own comfort. Two guys come hold me up at the waist for him as he continues to fuck me. He pulls out and finishes it himself by jerking off and cumming on my ball sack. I kiss the feet of the guy on my right holding me. He pulls me over to the table, bends me over it, and pushes into me. After him the last two guys just come to me to take their turn. My ass is numb and wet with their cum soaking my crack and dripping down my ball sack. "You forgot me." I look over at Michael. His shirt is off. His pants are open and tucked under his big cock and balls. His bush is thick with course black hair. He's fully hard and I feel my own cock swelling with the idea of getting fucked by him. I crawl across the room to him and kiss his feet. Getting no response I lick as well. "I'd never fuck a slave and I sure as hell won't fuck a dripping whore hole like you." Damn! I told myself I wouldn't let it bother me if he said something like that but it still hurts. "I might let you suck my dick if you beg for it." "Please let me suck your cock. Please. You deserve to be sucked, please let me suck you." He pushes my face down to the floor with his foot and pins it there. "You're out of your fucking mind if you think I'd ever let a piece of shit like you near my dick?" His hand spanks down hard on my ass a bunch of times. The pain is so intense. "You're just a hole to fuck and now that everyone who wanted to fuck you has, there's absolutely no use for you. You're a useless fuck hole." To the others he says, "Come on guys. Time to put our toys away until next time." Two of them pull me up into a standing position while Michael gets some stuff out of the closet. "Here's what's going to happen to you, boy. First, I'm going to wrap you in this." He holds up rolls of vet wrap, the stuff that looks like an ace bandage but it sticks to itself. I've been mummified before. I know I can handle it. "Then we're going to put you in here." He holds up a sleep sack. It seems redundant as it is much like being mummified. "Then in this." Shit! It's a body bag. That spooks me. "And then you'll be put in here for safe keeping." He pulls the carpet back and opens a trap door in the basement floor. It's about the size of a small coffin. "And you'll stay there until I decide to let you out." He lets that sink in. "And let's face it, I have no use for a fuck hole I won't fuck." The two guys hold me upright as Michael and another guy start at my ankles and wrap the vet wrap around and around coming further and further up my legs with each pass. As one roll finishes they begin a new one. No part of my skin is left showing. My arms are straight down and my hands are now being wrapped tight against my thighs. As they near my crotch I try to stop them, "Sir, I have to pee first. Please let me pee. Sir, Please." They continue like I'm not even talking. They continue and cover my crotch and ass as they work their way up. They continue all the way up to my neck like a high turtleneck. Lifting me straight up they wrap my feet as well. While still holding me up they slip the sleep sack over my feet and pull it up to my neck. They close the zipper all the way up the front. They fasten the attached belts to tighten it even further. I can't move at all. With me watching they open the body bag on the table. "Sir, Please don't. Please don't do this to me. Please." "Too late boy. It's a done deal." With that they pick me up and lay me flat on the table inside the bag. "Night, night. Don't let the bed bugs bite... or the mice and rats." He slides the zipper up from my ankles and the anxiety hits. "Wait! Please wait. Please. I'll do anything you want, I swear. I'll be good. I promise I'll be good. Please don't make me do this. I'm begging you." He stops the zipper as he reaches my stomach. He says nothing but doesn't let go of the zipper. In desperation I beg softly, "Please, please don't do it. Please...." He takes his hand from the zipper. "Thank you, Sir. Oh thank you." He looks so pleased with himself. "I don't know why you're thanking me, boy. I just forgot something." He holds up several thick cotton squares and places them over my eyes. I whimper as I realize what he's doing and that I'm not going to get him to stop. He uses the vet wrap over the squares and wraps it around and around my head making a blindfold that lets in absolutely no light at all. The darkness is complete and overwhelming. Like the slave who got pierced earlier I'm too scared to form a coherent thought and keep begging by saying please over and over. I know I'm not making sense but can't stop myself. "Are you going to gag him too?" "No. I like to hear him scream." I hear and feel the zipper of the body bag being pulled all the way up. They lift me from the table and lower me into the tiny space in the floor. It's tight around me. I try to move but can't move at all. I scream, I call out, still begging. I feel the zipper being lowered and a sense of relief comes over me. Michael's voice is like music to me. "Listen. Stop your whimpering and listen to me." He waits until I regain my composure. "I'm going to put a straw in your mouth. Drink slowly.... That's it keep drinking nice and slow." The water feels good going down my already parched throat. When I finish it he pulls it from my mouth. "Now listen to me and listen good. This is going to happen. I told you it's a done deal. You have this one chance and one chance only to use your safe word. But I'm telling you if you do it's over, but not just for you but for Steven too. He'll be out of the club and both of you can go fuck yourselves because I don't hang out with losers. If you quit now you lose, but so does he." He knows I wouldn't do that to Steven. I say nothing more. "I'm putting the water next to you. Make sure you hold this straw in your mouth so you don't lose it. If you lose it you won't be able to move to find it again. You'll be thirsty as hell without it. Trust me, that's not a torture you want." My anxiety level jumps. I cringe inside as I hear the door slam over me. I struggle to hear the rustle of the carpet as they put it back in place. I hear footsteps for a minute or so before everything goes silent. The darkness and the silence are total except for my own breathing. He didn't pull the zipper back up. He couldn't have or I wouldn't be able to hold the straw in my mouth. I'm so relieved. As I realize it really makes no difference I push that thought out of my head and just try to hold on to the relief I feel. I know Michael never makes a mistake so he backed it off to just where I could handle it. A feeling of deep appreciation washes over me and I realize how lucky I am to have masters of such skill. I know I need to control my anxiety level so I work to control my breathing and do relaxation exercises in my head. I know the best thing for me to do right now is sleep and I want to relax enough to do that. I figure by morning they'll let me out. I need to know that this will end soon. I sip at the water to help calm myself and I realize immediately that it's not water this time. It's urine. I panic for a few seconds but then realize it's okay. I've drunk piss before and it's not that it's so horrible, but it's no thirst quencher either. I'll still be thirsty as hell but I won't dehydrate. The fucking bastard! Like being entombed here isn't bad enough. With no distractions I realize that my whole body is hurting and sore. I can't move anything. Time is meaningless already. I have no idea how long it took but considering everything, I'm impressed with myself at the calmness I've managed. I say the rosary in my head to help me pass the time and maintain my calmness. I always fall asleep when I say the rosary and I'm praying I do this time as well. The other guys leave and Michael joins Steven upstairs in the living room where he'd been watching everything on the closed circuit television. Offering him a beer Michael asks, "How you doing?" Steven replies, "That was tough to watch. You really can be brutal. First he took a real fucking beating and then he was scared shitless about being put in the hole. I've got to be honest, man, I wish you'd back it down a little." Steven sounds more upset and concerned than angry. "When you're holding the reigns you ride the horse your way and when I hold the reigns I ride it my way. I already back it down a lot for you. If he were mine he'd be pierced, shaved, tattooed, whipped, beaten and bound. Besides, you're full of shit, you get off on it too, and you can be much worse than I am. You fuck with his heart and mind. I only fuck with his head space and body." "Obviously you're right, right but you're really pushing it. This time I didn't know if I wanted to jerk off or come down and get him." "Well, you didn't come down to get him, did you? And I don't see you rushing to release him now either. You're perfectly content to sit here nice and comfy on my sofa and watch him suffer. This is working out just fine for everyone." Steven doesn't look completely convinced. "Listen, I'm telling you you're doing the right thing. By the time we're done with him he'll think you're God's gift to creation and the nicest guy since Santa Clause. He'll be afraid to get two feet away from you and he'll be tripping all over himself trying to please you." "He'd better or I'll have to do it all again. He'll fucking live in that hole until he gets it right." "That's the right attitude but he'd better learn quick. My slave finishes his internship on the west coast in six months. Then we need the hole back. It will be pay back time for me letting him go and flying back and forth every other week to see him. We can't let these bitches get too comfortable." Steven laughs and shakes his head. "You're going to have to throw my bitch a bone and let him suck you off." "Why so he stops thinking about me? Nope. I gave him a taste of the master just to tease him and now I hold it over his head like a fucken sledgehammer. I can get a blowjob anywhere so why would I give that up? Besides, if and when I want him to blow me, well that's what hoods are for. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. I get off on his not knowing if I've fucked him or not. I see him looking at me sometimes and I can see the wonder in his eyes as he tries to figure it out. Besides, I like the little flashes of jealousy that you just can't hide. What about you, man? Do you want to suck on the Master's cock too?" Michael grabs his dick and flaunts it in front of Steven. "Don't hold your fucking breath on that one cause it aint ever going to happen." "Do you ever suck dick? Do you ever suck him?" "If I suck dick it will be his. He's the slut, not me; remember? Besides, he's got an awesome dick that makes yours look like a dog turd." Michael snorts at the cheap and unfounded shot as Steven continues without pausing. "I haven't sucked him in quite a while and I haven't let anyone else either. The only way he's gotten off is by his own hand." "Will you ever allow him to get off any other way?" "Of course. But, when it happens he won't know who. That's what hoods are for and what he don't know won't hurt him, right?" They both laugh. "What's the deal with his boss?" "The guy's got more money than the Queen of England and supposedly a stable full of his own boys. He's much more interested in the bitch as his star employee than anything else. He says he's top of the line and on the fast track to V.P. That's his priority. He likes fucking around with him a bit, but nothing serious. He has his own for that and I get the idea he's out of our league. He wants to pawn Josh and Joey off on me because as far as he's concerned they're nothing but a pain in the ass. He's only doing a friend a favor by `doing business' with the brats, as he calls them, so they can supposedly learn something about the business world. They are way too light weight for his tastes." "You going to take them on?" "Yeah, I think so. I had a good time with them tonight. Joey is a cutie and Josh is a hottie. If I didn't have to come here I'd of let them stay the night. As long as I let Josh have his way with my bitch I can probably have my way with both of them. Besides, it will be fun to fuck with the bitch's head by making him watch Joey serve me and then making him service Joey for treating me well and then service Josh as payment for treating him like shit. He'll still be the low man on the totem pole. It's a fucked up life we live but someone has to do it." They both laugh. "So which one of us is taking first shift baby sitting him? Guaranteed he'll fall asleep. They always do in the beginning. I think it's a self-protective reflex. They all think they'll sleep through it and when they wake up it will all be over. Meanwhile we stay up making sure he's okay. The slaves have it so easy compared to us. We do all the fucking work." "You're right, man. I'll take the first shift. Are you sure he can't see the camera light?" "Trust me. I've done this a dozen times. He can't see anything. He's probably so fucking grateful I didn't close the zipper he's not even thinking about why. I don't know why but the body bag gets them every time." Just then, the doorbell rings. Steven looks at Michael wondering who it could be at this time of night. It's well after midnight. "It's the bartender from the club. I pay him a hundred bucks to come here when the place closes down. For a hundred bucks he lets me do whatever I want to him. He'd probably let me do it for free but I don't want to be obligated to him in any way. He's a hole to fuck but I don't want anything else from him. We'll let him help keep you awake tonight." He presses a button on a remote control on the table automatically unlocking the front door. The whore enters the room already naked and drops to his knees in front of Michael. He's young, smooth, and without an ounce of extra body fat. His hair is buzzed high and tight. His nipples are pierced and his cock is meaty, uncut, and thick. His balls are big and hang in a very loose sack. Backhanding him across the face Michael instructs the whore about Steven. "You worship that man tonight. You do everything he wants you to do and more." To Steven he says, "Do whatever the fuck you want to him. I don't give a shit what it is. It's what he gets paid for. If you're not satisfied beat the crap out of him then come get me and I'll beat the crap out of him too. He's toilet trained if you're interested. He'll either eat it or drink it as the case may be." Michael kicks the whore hard, "Get your ass over to him, and be ready for me later." The whore scrambles over. "Have fun." Michael heads upstairs to get some sleep. "I'm sure we'll be fine." Steven assures him as he steps out of his pants and points to his erection signaling the whore to have at it. His cock and balls are immediately serviced and worshipped by Michael's trick. With one eye on the TV set Steven settles into the mouth around his cock but he's feeling bored, lonely, and a little guilty. Not guilty that he'd manipulated this whole fucking scene. In his mind it simply needed to be done to achieve the results he wanted. The end justifies the means as far as he's concerned. They'll both be better off if they can work out some of the kinks. He thinks to himself, the bitch had better come to understand that it's fine for him to serve and have sex with all these other guys. Fuck! It's really hot to team up against him and even hot to watch him be used and abused by guys. It's like having my own personal built in porn star. Besides, it's certainly making both of us pretty popular. What he's got to learn is that it's fine for me too. That bitch has always pulled the same shit. He dates other guys, but every time I do it he backs way off and I don't hear from him for days, or even weeks. It's like he punishes me for doing the same things he's doing, but I'm not going to let him get away with it anymore. >From now on every time he even tries to pull that shit on me, either I'll send him home, bring him here, or fuck it; I'll get my own box and lock him up like Michael did. Liking that idea he thinks about the dungeon space he'd like to have in his own basement. The garage is only all right. The bitch also has to realize that I am not just here to serve his needs. He's also here to serve mine. I'll feed his kinks as long as he feeds mine too. He'd better realize there are things I want to do and I want to do them to him. (He looks down at the whore sucking his cock and he knows that everyone else is a pale second to his own cock sucker.) I don't care if he likes it or not and if he's smart he'll just take it. I'm not going to keep doing what he wants and have him sulk, complain, or ever refuse to do what I want. Those days are gone forever. He'll do what I want or I'll really give him something to complain about. He laughs at his own use of that old cliché. The whore sucking his cock looks up at him shaking his limp dick in his fingers, "Am I doing something wrong here?" "Yep." Taking his belt from his pants loops he wails it across the whore's ass a good dozen times. His cock is back at full attention when he's done. "Start again and don't fuck it up this time." Going back to his thoughts, so where's the guilt coming from? It's coming from the realization that the bitch got what he deserved and more and most probably learned his lesson, but I'm going to keep him locked in that fucking hole anyway until I'm satisfied. There's absolutely no reason for it except I want to do it to him and I can. A sense of pleasure overrides the guilt. Kicking the whore in the leg he tells him to suck harder. Grabbing the back of his head he pushes him all the way down on his cock until the whore is gagging and gasping for air. That's just the way it should be. He just lets the cocksucker do his job with no intention of cumming. Eventually, the whore is tired and begging to stop. "You can stop, Steven tells him...." Picking up the belt he starts in on the whore's ass again. "... just tell me when you want to start again." He takes the beating for a while and then goes back to sucking cock. Steven's thoughts return to the dungeon he plans to create. After napping, Michael comes back down. The whore is still sucking on Steven's dick and lapping at his balls. His ass is crimson red from the belting he got every time he took a break. Michael looks at Steven, "Don't ever tell me I'm brutal again. It's like the pot calling the kettle black." "Yeah but I care about the other one, I don't give a shit about this one." "Fine, but I'm going to go fuck with his head some more. You just watch and learn." Steven watches the television as Michael comes into the camera's view. Michael moves slowly and silently as he pulls back the carpet and very slowly opens the trap door so as not to make a sound. He puts his hands together against the side of his face to indicate to Steven that it's sleeping. He looks at the shape in the box picturing the body locked inside of it. Estimating where, he lands a punch right to the balls. The grunt, and the moan evolve into cursing. That's Michael's favorite part. The inability to move always results in a more verbal response. Then the begging starts again. That's his second favorite part. Michael is silent and patient. He waits several minutes until all is quiet and calm again. Of course the breathing is still a bit hard and rapid but that's to be expected because deep down it knows there will be more. It hopes there won't, but deep down knows that there'll be more. Or will there? It's been so long that I start to wonder if there will be more. I even start to wonder if maybe I dreamed it in the first place. I couldn't have. It scared the living shit out of me, and fucking hurt like hell. I couldn't have dreamed it. My sense of security grows as time passes. The next shot to my balls totally freaks me out! It hurts, but that's nothing compared to my total lack of control or knowledge about what's happening or going to happen. I curse a blue streak until I realize what I'm saying and then apologize like crazy trying to get myself out of whatever trouble I just got myself into. Eventually I'm just whimpering and begging again. Michael just sits back and enjoys the show much like Steven is doing upstairs. Even the whore is entranced watching and listening with a sense of anxiety and desire. I convince myself that if I calm down and stay still and quiet he/they won't do it again. I'll be rewarded for being good. Again my sense of security grows as the time passes. I have no sense of time but it seems really long to me. The slight click I hear makes me jump inside wondering what's going to happen. The click was actually Michael turning on a tape recorder to play a previously recorded message. He's used this trick a bunch of times and it's always worked. The voice is low and menacing on the tape. It's definitely, a black man talking, and definitely a stranger's voice. "You thought you were safe here didn't you. You thought we couldn't get to you. But we can. We can do any fucking thing we want and you can't do nuthin about it." Timing it perfectly Michael slams down on his balls again. "See, its like I said, we can do anything and you can't do nothin. The real bitch is you can't sleep anymore, cause if you're sleepin we come back. That's right, we're gonna be your worst nightmare if you fall asleep. So now you gotta stay awake. Now you just got nothing to do but think about how fucken bored and miserable you are. And you gotta worry about when the next ball crushing blow will land" Again with perfect timing Michael lands another solid ball busting blow. This time the cursing is low and mingled with begging and even prayer. The cotton blindfold absorbs the tears but you know he's crying. Michael slowly and silently lowers the lid and heads back upstairs. I lay there crying for some time. I'm scared shitless that another blow is going to land. I wish the guys would say something else. I didn't recognize that voice at all but Michael must be with him. I wonder how many of them are there watching me. The guy said, we, several times, at least I think he did. I struggle to remember but it's just a blur already. I feel so alone. I don't know if anyone is still there. "Please talk to me, please.... Oh come on please let me know if you're still there." Shit! I want to hear something. "Please, I dropped the straw out of my mouth and I need a drink. Please help me, please." Despair hits me hard and I stop trying. I'm too afraid to do any relaxation exercises because I'm too sacred of what might happen if I fall asleep. I jump at every sound I think I hear wondering if my balls are going to be pounded again. If.... I mean when. I know it will happen again. As time passes I wish it would happen so I could stop anticipating it. How stupid is that, I wonder? Upstairs Steven tells Michael "So much for taking it down a notch. Four fucking shots to his balls? You terrorized him with the first one." Michael doesn't say anything. He sits on the sofa and motions the whore to his cock. Crawling over he takes Michael into his mouth. The tension in the room eases as all three of them grow hard. Michael breaks the silence, "He's got a sweet ass, and you've got time to kill and a hard on to take care of. Why don't you just fuck the boy and make us all happy?" Steven squirts some lube on his dick and slides it right up inside him. His hole is loose in comparison to the hole he's become used to and he uses that as an excuse to fuck him harder. Finishing before Michael, he lies back on the sofa and watches Michael get sucked off. He admits to himself that Michael is gorgeous. He also allows his mind to drift off into a fantasy where his boy is in the middle sucking Michael, while Steven watches and fucks his ass. He falls asleep sporting another boner.