Date: Sun, 14 Feb 2021 15:00:41 +0000
From: Sexy Si <sexycitysi69@gmail.com>
Subject: Pierced Cock Domination - Part I

Title: "Pierced Cock Domination" - Part I
By: Sexy City Si (sexycitysi69@gmail.com)
Category: Authoritarian

Themes: Genital Piercing; Domination; Submission; Jock Lads; Cock and
Ball Torture; Freeballing; Humiliation; Slave and Master
Feedback: Welcomed via e-mail, especially from freeballers.
-----------------------------------------------------

There I lay, a broken heap on the floor. I was naked; my arse hurt from
brutal overuse. My cock was held in position - my Prince Albert and the
ring that pierced my ball bag were padlocked together, preventing my dick
from stiffening. The guys had taken complete control of my dick, balls
and hole. I was forbidden to wear any underwear. The most precious parts
of my body were no longer mine and I now existed only to pleasure them,
my Masters. How had this all happened? Let me start at the beginning...


I was always short of money and, once again, I didn't have enough cash.
The lads were generally good to me though, digging deep to help cover my
costs. The three of us had been friends for a while -- we met at the gym,
where our routine was to workout every morning, followed by a swim and
protein shakes in the sauna. This was at the YMCA, a male-only gym that
offered discounted rates for people like me. The friendship started in a
pretty relaxed way; we used to spot each other with the heavier weights,
which became encouraging each other to push our bodies to the maximum for
the greatest gain. We did see some really good results too - I am quite
short, but had shred all my excess fat to reveal a well-defined physique.
Max is tall, dark and handsome, with a natural six-pack. His gym routine
helped broaden his shoulders and strengthen his arms, which combined to
make a stunning look. Jack is also tall, with floppy hair and a lean
swimmers' build. His prowess in the pool had created chiselled abdominals
and powerful legs, as well as heavily muscled shoulders. Overall, we were
all doing pretty well physically and, given we were all super horny guys,
the only real question was how we could convert our physical attributes
into sexual conquests.

We would workout on the gym floor in our shabby gear but, given our bold
physiques, we didn't really care. The swimming pool was naked and it was
compulsory to swim in the buff. This was standard YMCA policy to prevent
the guys who couldn't afford any swimmers (like myself) feeling
discriminated against and as it was an all-male gym, it really was no big
deal; everyone complied. We were used to skinny dipping together and a
quick swim was the best antidote to an intense workout, combined with
some horsing around and lots of laughter. No surprise, the sauna was
naked too and after a skinny dip, this seemed completely natural. There
were signs everywhere saying that strictly no clothing or towels were
allowed, as this would violate the gym's ethos of equality for all men.

Sauna time was used to update the other lads on our sexual antics,
usually in graphic detail. We told each other everything and nothing was
ever left to the imagination. I suppose I did check-out my mates' bodies
and their junk, as their stories unfolded. It wasn't a gay thing; it was
just that everything was permanently on display and you couldn't help
but look. We all had a pretty brazen approach to nudity, mainly because
none of us had anything to hide; quite the opposite, in fact, and we all
took the opportunity to show-off whenever we had the chance. Max had
large, low-hanging balls, which bounced around when he played in the
pool. We joked that they were made of metal, as they would make a loud
knock against the wood of the sauna benches when he sat down. I assumed
it was painful, but he never flinched once. His dick was long too; it
snaked down his inner thigh and the tip lined-up with the bottom of his
ball sack. He was uncut, with a chunky skin that packaged his meat
neatly. Jack's cock was not quite as long, but it was noticeably
thicker. It hung heavily between his legs, dangling from a nest of fair
pubes. Max had a bit of hair on his chest; Jack's was smooth. With both,
it was easy to see their well-defined pecs and wash-board stomachs, along
with the cum gutters that directed the eye to the meat between their
legs. And then there's me: being slightly smaller, my build was a bit
more stocky, but with no excess fat and some decent muscle
definition. My uncut dick and hairy balls were pretty big too, but looked
comparatively small. Everyone commented on my tight muscular bubble butt,
built from years of hardcore squats. One more thing I should mention:
Jack was cut and at the end of his dick, he had a piercing. A metal bar
went right through his piss slit and came out the other end, through his
dick head. He had had it as long as I could remember and, apparently, it
was the result of a college dare he had lost years ago. However, he often
talked about how he enjoyed having metal through his bell-end and had
never regretted taking the dare.

So, there we were in the sauna and the chat started in the usual way.
Jack was first:

"My new girl loves my dick metal," he declared. "Her pussy's so tight,
she says she can feel the metal right inside her cunt. It makes her
scream out load."

Jack talked with some pride - it wasn't unusual for the girls to want
his dick metal, in any hole. Jack flexed his cock in his hand,
demonstrating the powerful strokes he had used to shag his bird. He was
starting to get a bit stiff, his cock was filling with excitement as he
continued to narrate graphic stories of using his metal in every one of
his girl's holes and how much she loved it.

"Does it really feel that good, mate?" Max asked.

"Absolutely!" Jack shouted, without hesitation. "What's more, you don't
know proper pleasure until you've had a bitch tongue your dick
metal. You should get your cock pierced and try it yourself."

"Maybe that's not such a bad idea, you know. What do you think, James?"

My heart sunk a little. I already had a slight inclination where this
conversation was going and didn't much like it. I didn't know what to
say. Sitting in the sauna butt naked, I looked down at my own dick and
balls. My legs were open and my cock hung obediently between my legs. I
was proud of my uncut dick - when stiff, it was over seven inches long
and quite thick, and the skin naturally rolled back to reveal a large
purple head. The idea of a Prince Albert just terrified me; my dick was
far too precious to have any metal going through it, no matter how good
Jack said it felt.

"Umm... I'm not so sure, guys. It sounds pretty painful to me and I
can't imagine having any metal down there." Then, a simple (but true)
excuse came to me: "Besides, I can't afford it!"

"That's a story I've heard before," joked Jack, rolling his eyes.

"We should do it! We should all do it!" Max declared decisively. I
glanced over and recognised that look in his eyes.

"Good idea, mate!" Jack responded, "and by the way, the pain is part
of the point." This last comment was meant for me.

"But, how much is it going to cost?" I asked, desperate to find a way
to escape this crazy plan. Before I had finished my sentence though, Max
chipped in.

"We'll just have to spot you, James...again."

Now both guys had their dicks in their hands. Jack was playing with the
metal that was already there and Max was getting excited about the metal
to come. After a bit more discussion, Max and Jack took the strange view
that having identical dick piercings was the best way for the three of us
to solidify our friendship. It became clear that I wouldn't be able to
get out of this piercing pact, no matter how much I protested.

The next day, the three of us arrived at the piercing parlour. I was
shitting myself; Max didn't seemed that bothered and Jack just thought
the whole thing was amusing. We were greeted by a handsome guy at the
counter, with some well-placed tattoos across his tight, muscular body.
He had huge inked arms and, through a thin white vest, you could see more
tattoos around his nipples, which were also pierced. He remembered
Jack from before and Jack explained that we were having the same done.

"Well, there are a few options, lads. Come out back and I'll show
you."

We followed the tattoo artist into his studio. Without any hesitation, he
turned to face us, unbuckled his ripped jeans and pushed them down to
reveal a huge dick, no underwear in sight. There was no hint of
embarrassment, the tattoo artist was clearly used to showing off his dick
and he casually stepped out of his jeans, so his cock could remain on
display. It was easily the biggest dick I had ever seen, at least ten
inches and still soft; and chunky too. There was loads of metal in his
junk, which weighed his dick down so it swung between his legs.

"Here you go, lads." He took his large trouser snake into his hand.
Along the thick foreskin, there were a few bars and at the tip, a silver
ring for a Prince Albert. He then pulled his dick right up to show us the
three rings that went through his ball bag, starting at the base of his
shaft and finishing where the scrotum meets the arse crack, where the
skin is most sensitive. He also explained that any of his dick rings
could be chained to his nipple rings.

"Doesn't it hurt?" I asked, innocently. "You're not even wearing any
undies."

"What the fuck? Are you some kind of fucking girl?" the tattoo artist
shouted at me. "Once you've got your dick pierced, you should never
wear any underwear...ever."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean you wanna properly feel the piercing," the tattoo artist
retorted. "I can feel my piercings rubbing hard against the rough of my
jeans all the time and that's the way it should be."

The other guys were laughing and suddenly I felt pretty silly. I
remembered that neither Max nor Jack wore any underwear either. They were
life-long freeballers and were committed to their dick and balls hanging
free. They didn't believe in underwear and often berated me for wearing
my tighty-whities.

"It's about time you ditched those fucking pants!" Jack told me
forcefully.

"I agree!" Max said, supporting Jack. "You've only got the one pair
anyway."

All the other guys were laughing at me now.

"Let's see!" said the tattoo artist, in fits of hysterics. "This should
be good for a laugh."

So, I was shamed into dropping my jeans. Slowly, I unfastened the buckle
of my belt and popped the button, and then pulled down the zip
tentatively. When my jeans were around my upper thighs, I found the
courage to look down. True, my tight white underwear was a bit dirty,
they were the only undies I had and they didn't often make it into the
wash. You could clearly see a crusty stain where my dick had repeatedly
leaked pre-cum and the thin material was straining to contain my junk.

"What the fuck is the point of them?" shouted the tattoo artist,
laughing, with his huge dick still hanging loose for everyone to see, a
proud and committed freeballer.

"That's what we've been saying for years," Jack said. "James,
you're like a fucking child and it's about time you grew-up."

"Well, here's a quick and easy way to fix the issue," said Max and
with that, he grabbed a pair of industrial scissors from the counter
beside him and quickly cut my underwear away. It happened so quickly,
there was nothing I could do. Max tugged at the loose material hard and,
as my undies disappeared, my dick and balls fell between my legs,
swinging heavily as gravity took over. It was actually a bit painful, but
I knew better than to show it.

"Dude, that was my last pair!" I protested, "I can't afford
another."

"Good!" All the guys cried in unison. "About bloody time!"

"Now you're a real man," said the tattoo artist forcefully, with no
irony.

So, there I stood, my jeans lowered around my thighs, my dick and balls
hanging loose, with my hole exposed.

"And don't bother pulling those jeans up," was the tattoo artist's
next instruction. "You'll only need to pull them back down again. Now,
let's get on with it..."

Max confidently stood bolt upright, undid his jeans, unzipped and let
them fall to his ankles; no underwear in sight. His dick and balls hung
low between his legs, as always, and it was clear he was ready to get
pierced.

"Nice meat!" declared the tattoo artist, openly admiring what Max was
proudly displaying. "This is the kind of dick that deserves some
metal."

With some haste, the tattoo artist took a fresh needle and
unceremoniously shoved it through the end of Max's bell end, right
through his piss slit. Max subtly bit his tongue and tried not to wince,
but I could tell he was in pain. A metal bar was inserted into the new
dick hole and then, Max quickly pulled his jeans back up.

"See, no big deal," said the tattoo artist and Jack agreed, smiling at
his mate.

"Well done, fella, proud of you."

"Now for you," the tattoo artist said, turning to me. My cock and balls
were still out in the open. Suddenly, my heart started racing and the
panic took over.

"I don't think I can do it!" I cried. "It's not for me."

"Too late, James. Your mates have already paid and they want their
money's worth. Now, don't be a pussy."

"No, please. No!" I begged them.

Without any regard for my protests, the tattoo artist turned to Max and
issued another instruction: "Hold him down!"

Max moved quickly, following the direct orders of the tattoo artist. He
jumped up onto the counter, manoeuvred himself behind me and grabbed hold
of my arms, leaning all his weight over my shoulders. My back was firmly
pinned against his huge chest and now I could barely move. With my
genitals already fully exposed, all the tattoo artist needed to do was
follow procedure. He quickly grabbed another needle from the side and,
taking my dick in his rough hands, he aggressively shoved the needle up
my piss slit and forced it out the other end, through my delicate dick
head. I screamed with pain, but all I could hear was laughter and cheers.
Then, the tattoo artist took some metal, this time a ring, and fastened
it through the hole. It was done: I was now a pierced freeballer.

"You guys still want everything you paid for?" enquired the tattoo
artist. I wasn't sure what he meant and neither did I understand why Max
still had me pinned. Then, all of a sudden, Max forced me forward,
brutally pushing me onto the cold steel table in front. Jack quickly
grabbed hold of my arms and once again, I was pinned down and couldn't
move. Now I could hear Max laughing in the background, as the tattoo
artist came around to survey my exposed arse.

"Nice tight arse," he said. "Now, be a good boy and spread those legs
for me."

I refused, but my protests were futile. Max simply kicked me in the back
of the knee a couple of times and my legs automatically opened.

"Well, what have we here?" asked the tattoo artist, sarcastically. My
face was planted into the table, I couldn't see what was going on behind
me and how all three guys were now smiling at each other.

"What the fuck is going on?" I screamed, not that anyone was listening
to my cries.

"Why don't you just relax?" said Max and as he did so, I felt the
tattoo artist cup my balls in his hand. Jack had me pinned so tightly, I
couldn't move. Bent over the table, with my trousers down and no
underwear, it was like I was presenting my balls as an offering to
everyone. The tattoo artist suddenly changed his grip and tugged my balls
down hard, holding them firmly in his fist. I yelped in pain.

"Shut the fuck up, pussy-boy," he shouted. As if on cue, Max removed
his tight white t-shirt, his muscles rippling as he took if off. He lent
forward and stuffed it in my mouth, making sure the fabric went right
down my throat to prevent me making another sound.

"That's better," said the tattoo artist, "finally some peace and
quiet."

Without warning, the tattoo artist then grabbed a metal clamp. He used it
to fasten the loose ball bag skin, just where it meets the arse crack.
The clamp was cold and heavy, and it hurt like hell. I bit down hard on
Max's t-shirt and then, out the corner of my eye, I saw the tattoo artist
grab another needle.

"What the fuck?" I thought. "What the hell is he going to do now?"

Then it occurred to he - he was about to pierce my ball sack. I started
to scream and struggle, thrashing my hips in an effort to escape. But it
was no use, Jack just held me more tightly and now Max was helping him.
The more I moved, the more painful the clamp was on my bollocks too.

"Hold still!" ordered the tattoo artist and, as he had another needle in
his hand, I thought it best to do as I was told. After a moment of
stillness, I could suddenly feel the cold sharpness of the needle enter
my ball sack and come out the other side. A ring was then inserted and my
balls were now pierced.

I went into shock - Jack let go his grip, as did Max. I'd collapsed,
bent over the table like a cheap whore. My underwear was gone and my
jeans were around my ankles. I couldn't move, it was too painful and I'd
been through too much. My balls were aching and my cock was throbbing.
Max lent forward and pulled his t-shirt out of my mouth.

"So, are you going to be a good boy now?" he said sarcastically, but
with a serious overtone. I didn't know what to say. I was at the whim of
the guys and now they were in complete control of me.

"I don't know about you, Jack, but I think it's pay-back time." I
wasn't exactly sure what Max meant and I certainly didn't like the
inference. However, there was little I could do and protesting would only
make the situation worse. Max suddenly pulled the belt from his jeans,
doubled it over in his fist and in the same motion, he brought it down on
my bare arse with considerable force. I cried out, the sting of the
leather was excruciating.

"No! Please, no!" I begged, but to no avail.

Max beat me with his belt another five or six times; I lost count. A
couple of the strikes caught my new bollock piercing, which was even more
painful. The more red my arse became, the more the lads laughed and
cheered. This only encouraged Max, who had now broken into a sweat from
the force he had applied to my beating.

"Here's the thing," Jack declared, in a commanding tone. "You owe us
big time and we know you don't have the money to pay. So, me and Max
have been thinking of some other ways of taking what's owed to us."

"Guys, I'll get you the cash. I swear!"

"No you fucking won't and payment's well overdue. We don't have a
choice, but to take what's ours by some other means."

It was futile. I couldn't deny I was completely indebted to the guys and
had no idea how I was supposed to pay. But, I certainly didn't like this
idea of payment `by some other means'. I found the strength to
straighten myself up a little and politely asked the guys if we could
come to some kind of agreement.

"I think we just have," they both said in unison. "Now bend the fuck
over," ordered Max. With that, he took his two middle fingers and
roughly shoved them up my arse hole; no lube; no warning. I gasped and
winced.

"This hole is ours. We now own all your holes," Max explained and as he
did, he took his fingers from my arse and then forced them into my open
mouth for cleaning. As Max's dirty fingers entered, I found myself
complying and slowly started polishing them with my tongue. I would have
no real choices going forward and from now on, it would always be best to
just do as I was told.

"Here's that padlock," the tattoo artist interjected. Max took it from
him and in one swift movement, he locked my cock to my balls through the
rings of my piercings. My dick was now permanently held in position
between my legs, painfully bolted to my ball bag. It prevented me from
getting erect and if I needed a piss, I would just have to dribble down
my legs. This is the way it be from now on.

            Follow my cock and ball slavery in the next instalment of the
series; many thanks.