Date: Sun, 23 Apr 2017 17:43:54 -0400
From: Mark Robinson <ibfoasm62@gmail.com>
Subject: Tree House Torture Games - Part Four

Thanks to everyone who emailed me encouragement (and their own hot boyhood
experiences!) about this series so far. All episodes can be found at
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/tree-house-torture-game. IF you
haven't already, you should read those first for the background of this new
chapter.

This story is fiction about consensual sex and BDSM between teenage boys.
If it is illegal to read such material in your jurisdiction, or if you are
under the legal age to do so, please exit this site immediately.

nd please, if you enjoy these stories, consider supporting the great free
resource that Nifty gives us. Go to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

***

[At the end of chapter three my friend Kenny had me tied high off the
ground to the rope ladder hanging from his backyard treehouse. He had tied
an old bucket to my balls and let it hang down between my legs. I thought
that was the torture for this play session. I was wrong.]

"How does that feel, Mark?" Kenny asked, gazing up at my slightly stretched
balls while unashamedly rubbing his cock through his gym shorts.

"It feels pretty cool, Kenny. I kinda like it. I mean, it hurts a little,
yeah, but it's also a great torture, so yeah, I like it."

"Hmmm," Kenny mused, "maybe we should make it an even better torture."

I shuddered a little when he said that, but have to admit I also got a
little harder. Even just hearing the word "torture" always made me a little
hard, but thinking about torture being applied to me got me even more
turned on...and hearing my best friend say he was actually going to torture
me (more), well that put my cock at maximum extension.

"Ha!" Kenny laughed. "Obviously you think that's a good idea, too! Hang on
a moment. Don't go anywhere!"

Nifty wasn't around in those days, so neither of us had any idea how cliche
that last line was. We both cracked up, thinking it was terribly original.

Kenny disappeared back toward his house, but in moment returned dragging a
garden hose with him. I cringed, because it was immediately apparent what
the "more" of this torture was going to be. How much could my balls take?

He climbed up on the steps tool and put the end of the hose into the
bucket. He secured it with a piece of duct tape so it wouldn't jump out.
Every little movement of the bucket, every time he pressed on it even a
little while setting this up, and even the weight of the hose, all this I
felt sharply an acutely in my young tight balls.

"Oh no. Oh no, Kenny, you can't. Please don't put water in the bucket!
You'll rip my balls off! Please don't do this." I was half play acting, but
half really frightened. I had no idea how much pressure a boy's balls could
take.

"Seeing as you're tied up, I think I can do whatever I want. But don't
worry; we'll go slow." With that he went back over to the spigot and
cranked the handle a bit.

After a moment, a slow trickle of water dripped out of the hose and into
the bucket. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for what was to come, but
before long opened them and looked down again. I couldn't look away. No
matter how terrifying this was, it was also very hot. It was the stuff of
my fevered dreams...and more. So scared as i was, I remained rock hard.

Kenny came back, climbed the step stool, and peeked in the bucket. "Hmmm,
maybe a little to slow."

"NO!!!" I yelled as he sauntered back to the spigot. But it was no use.
Kenny was on a mission. I heard the squeak as he turned the handle a little
more. After a few seconds the steady drip in the bucket below turned into a
slow but steady stream. For the first time, I could feel the weight on my
balls beginning to increase. I sucked in my breath and prepared for some
real pain.

Kenny hurried back, and now stood back a little further so he could survey
my suffering. I could tell by the way his eyes roved, and by the way his
cock pushed out the front of his gym shorts, that he enjoyed this a lot. In
spite of my fear, I felt a rush of lust myself, knowing that it was my
exposed body and suffering that was turning on my friend like this.

"Now," Kenny said, "that's going to bet uncomfortable before long. So
heres' the deal. If you can last until the bucket is half full, I'll let
you down and nothing else will happen. But if you give in before that,
well, there'll be a consequence."

"A consequence?" I queried. "What consequence? What sort of consequence?
What's gong to be worse than having my balls ripped off?"

Kenny looked bashful. He looked down to the ground and kicked at the dirt
for a moment. Then he looked up right in to my eyes and said, "You have to
blow Lance."

What?!? I was speechless for a whole minute. My mouth kept forming words
but they wouldn't come out. "What the fuck are you taking about Kenny? Blow
Lance? I thought this was just between you and me. I though this was our
secret game. Why would you bring Lance into it? He'd think I was gay!"

Lance was a kid who lived around the corner from both Kenny and me. Even
though he was a year older than us (15), he still joined in our war games
in the woods, the thing that had led to these torture games Kenny and I now
played. But I thought these games were just for Kenny and me.

"Well," Kenny again looked downward, avoiding my eyes. "I sorta already
told him."

"WHAT THE FUCK, Kenny!" I yelled. Even though by now there was enough water
in the bucket that it was starting to seriously pull on the noose around my
balls, and I was really starting to feel some pain, when Kenny revealed
this my present dilemma was completely forgotten (for the moment) in my
anger, outrage, and extreme embarrassment. Lance was a model of masculine
boyhood for both of us. We though he was so cool, and worked hard to always
have his esteem. The though that he would know about this weird naked game
of ours was so embarrassing.

"Cool down, Mark. I didn't tell him about you, I mean by name, yet. I told
him that I had this kid who was like my slave, and would do anything I told
him to. So Lance--I think he was joking--said, oh yeah, like he'll blow you.
And I said yeah, he already has. And Lance got all big-eyed and said how
he'd love to get a blow job, and so the next thing I knew I was promising
him he might get a chance. So, I knew you'd never agree to it, so...here we
are."

I hung there helpless and exposed, 15 feet off the ground, my wrists and
ankles tied to the rope ladder of the tree house, my still-hard cock
jutting out into mid air, and an increasingly heavier bucket swinging from
a rope tied around my balls. Those balls, I could see looking down, were
now stretched down several inches, and it was really, really starting to
hurt.

And even though I was truly furious at Kenny for making that dumb promise
to Lance, a contradictory thought was crowding out the anger. It was a
vision of Lance's cock hardening in front of my face. And that was a very
appealing vision. Lance had developed early, and shot up to almost six feet
in height by late ninth grade. His long lean body had figured in many of my
jerk off fantasies recently. I could only imagine how well-developed his
cock might be.

And so it happened. I can't remember if it was the increasing pain in my
balls, or my growing lust for Lance's cock, or a combination of the two,
but whatever it was, my reason and embarrassment took leave, and I finally
cried out to Kenny, "Ok, you sonf of a bitch. You've got me. I give! I
give! Let my balls go!"

Kenny's eyes snapped up with sudden surprise. I don't think he really
expected me to give in to this. But in a second his surprise was replace
with a look on his face that I can only describe was joy, and he ran to the
water spigot and shut it off. Quickly he climbed the step ladder and tipped
the water out of the bucket. The relief to my aching balls was immediate,
and I let out a big sigh.

It took Kenny a while to get the rope untied from my balls, as the weight
of the bucket had pulled his knot tight. But I enjoyed his fiddling around
there, and gave a gasp of pleasure when he grabbed my cock for a moment to
steady himself as he worked at the knot.

Eventually he had me free.

"You just suffered a lot, and you made a huge commitment to do something
super pervy. Slave, I think you deserve a reward." With that, Kenny, still
perched on the step stool, immediately plunged his mouth down over my rock
hard cock. The shock of intense pleasure made my head snap back, and I
groaned out loud. This seemed to inspire Kenny, and he began moving his
head back and forth on my rod. Each time his mouth came back toward my
swollen cockhead, he swirled his tongue around on it, sending shivers of
electric pleasure through my whole body.

I sagged down letting my full weight hang on the bonds on my wrists,
stretching my arms to the max. Somehow, this increased my sensations, and I
could feel my climax building rapidly. I was gone, totally absorbed into
what I now know would be called my head space. There was nothing else in
the world but the pleasure I was feeling, nothing in all the universe but
my best friends warm, wet mouth moving up and down the length of my cock.

Before any time at all, I felt that wonderful tingle rising up from my very
center. "I'm....going...to cum!" I yelled out, and a moment later an
indescribable shock wave of pure pleasure took over my whole being as I
felt spurt after spurt of my hot boy cum fill Kenny's mouth.

As the most explosive orgasm of my young life began to subside, Kenny
removed his mouth, but continued to slowly stroke my cock with his hand,
sending new waves of shuddering pleasure through me with each stroke.
Finally he stepped down and began to untie my ankles.

As I hung there in my post-orgasmic haze, the reality of what I had just
promised under torture came back to me. Lance, the coolest kid in our
neighborhood, the only one of us who had actually had sex with a girl (as
far as we knew), was going to know that I was a cocksucker. All of the
shame and fear came back. But I had to admit, mixed in with it was lust and
desire. Some part of me didn't care if Lance knew that, if he though I was
gay. I wanted that cock.

TO BE CONTINUED

****

Thanks so much for reading, and please keep sending me your own
experiences, your reactions to my stories, and any suggestions you have.
Reach me at ibfoasm62@gmail.com, and if you're on Fetlife, I'm NippleMark
there.

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