House of Feathers Ch. 16: Roped In

A short stand-alone story, following from others in the series.

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Every so often, I win.

Oh, jeepers, no. I win all the time. But sometimes I win in different ways.

He'd lost a bet, had doubled down and flopped again. Never try to outswim a nereid, fool!

I owned him for the day now and planned to make good use of it. The challenge was solely one of how creative I could get.

I didn't see it as a problem. After all, I had his example as inspiration. Ingenious, methodical, cruelly persistent, creative and loving, he'd Played me to the point of screaming many times. He was wonderful at it and I loved him with all my heart.

But right now, I had him bent over a rail.

Literally.

OK, actually a forearm-thick pole tied between two palm trees on the ocean side of the villa. His ankle cuffs were lashed to the base of the trees, as far apart as his legs could stretch, while his hands were tied to two trees in front of him, holding his torso almost horizontal. With the possible exception of his navel, it was Total Access. I liked it that way.

His rigid manhood lay hard against the underside of the pole, rising and falling with his breath, head just clear of the ocean side of the pole. His scrotum had pulled tight up under him, looking like an overripe avocado.

Once in a while, I moved the tripod-mounted video camera for a different close-up. Reruns could be fun in the rainy season. A second was nearby in reserve.

The sun was starting to shift and he would soon be out of the shade. I filled my palms with sunscreen and started working it into his slim body. My fingertips slid along between muscle and muscle, rolling the goo into his skin. I took my time, head to foot, smearing sunscreen into every crevice and pore. One might think, for instance, that it would be hard to get a sunburned anus. I wasn't taking any chances...

I gave it a while to soak in. To pass the time, I rubbed my breasts softly up and down his his neck and around his face. Win-win, I figured. I enjoyed it and I could see his thighs quiver in response.

I picked up our Canadian eagle feather and trailed it up between his outspread buttocks. I tickled his rosebud with the tip, swirling it around and around. His thighs clenched and I knew I'd found a winner, so began tickling lightly behind his balls. His cock twitched over and over.

I reached down between his legs and grasped his phallus, pulling it back to point stiffly at the ground. It took a fair bit of effort - this boy was hard. I began to slowly pump my hand along its length, resuming my teasing his balls with the feather, then stroking that magical triangle under the head. He wouldn't be able to take it for very long, I knew. He'd been ready for an orgasm for the past hour - overdue, in fact.

Me, I'd had three. The memory of him kneeling before me with his hands clipped behind his back and tongue working my pussy was still fresh. After every orgasm, I'd stopped and licked and massaged his cock until he was panting in his need. Stopping just short, I'd spread myself before him again, nipples on fire, heart pounding for more.

I could see more precum on his cockhead, so I reached under and spread it across the head with a fingertip. His cock jerked away, so I sat down on the ground underneath him, grasped it firmly by the shaft to keep it from getting away and repeated, around and around, slowly.

His hips jerked as if he was trying to escape, so I decided to give him some more incentive not to move.

I ran a line from a light coconut on the ground under him to around his nutsack. Staying in place would leave the weight on the ground. Failure to remain still would lift it off the ground.

He pulled back slowly and his scrotum started stretching. He immediately leaned forward again, then eased back. His balls were pulled further and further away from his body. Slowly he lifted his arse and, equally slowly, the coconut slowly rose off the ground. It clearly must have been uncomfortable, but he had a small smile on his face.

Maybe he liked it? We'd Played with ball stretchers and he seemed to like those. I shortened the line so it was hanging off the ground and gave it a little push to start it swinging just a little. The expression on his face was enigmatic - skin flushed, eyes closed, nostrils flaring. His face had a thin smile, almost of intense concentration.

Leaving him there, I went back into the villa and fetched us some lemonade; it was thirsty work - on either end. I held his head up to more easily reach the glass and he gulped gratefully. "Thanks." I kissed him with a smile.

"Tummy getting chafed?"

He shook his head.

I had another idea and removed the coconut. Going up to the villa, I brought down a blindfold and a length of soft, pencil-thick cotton line. Its bright whiteness would contrast nicely with his tanned skin.

Definitely wanting a record for posterity, I moved the camera so that it lay facing straight up under his groin. The second one I placed directly under his face, capturing his every expression. One split-screen cinematography Oscar, cumming up.

I fastened the blindfold around his head and then began by lightly dusting his shaven groin with talc, before tying one end of the cord around the base of his cock and balls and pulling it a little bit snug. Holding his wedding tackle downwards, I began making turns around and around, flat beside the first loop. With each turn, his cock got still harder and his balls were stretched further and further away from his body.

After about eight turns, his scrotum was stretched three finger-widths out and his manhood was purple. Time for some separation...

I took another turn around his cock and then changed direction, pulling it down between his balls before running it over the top of his cock again. I repeated that with the other ball and then repeated the process twice more.

His balls were now not only pulled away from his body and the base of his cock but also stretched well away from each other. His organs almost looked like a ball-peen hammer. Come to think of it, they were almost that hard.

I liked the artistic effect, but was facing a choice. I could tie things off as they were or wrap the whole length of his cock. Both had advantages, but I decided to leave it bare. I liked the feel of a man's penis in my hand - such a remarkable structure, velvet over steel.

I knew I didn't have too long before I would have to untie him. Bloodflow is important.

When I finished, I moved up under his head and, lying on my back, twirled my finger around the rim of his engorged cockhead. Smiling up at him, I asked, "Still OK?"

He nodded - honest man.

Going over to the table, I brought back lube and a thick black butt plug, letting him see it by lifting a corner of the blindfold. He was familiar with it and groaned. I liked the sound. I kissed him, hard, then went around to his butt and ran my hands over those deliciously firm manbuns. He was such a great man - toy and 'toyer' as required. Not to mention the love of my life.

Pouring a generous blob of lube on my left hand, I deposited it on his pucker and began to massage it on, around and inside. His buns tightened even more as first one, then two fingers penetrated his arse.

I picked up the butt plug and presented its tip to his rosette. He moaned at the touch, but it wasn't his safe-word, so I slowly began to twist it in. "Ahhh," I said sweetly, "So good! Nobody does it like me, darling!"

His body went rigid and he stopped breathing until it finally slipped in.

Taking hold of the ring protruding from its flared base, I gave it a bit of a turn. Ridges cast into the narrowest part rubbed against the sensitive nerves in his sphincter. He jerked his hips in response.

I stepped around to his head, squatted down and raised his face to look into mine. I cupped my breasts and rubbed my nipples over his face and ears.

One last thing to do. Taking a rubber band, I looped around his cock rim and hung a finger-size vibrator from it. The humming head was just touching his slit, teasing and tormenting as it swung with his movements. I cranked it up high.

Sitting behind him, I stroked the length of his cock with my fingers, then with one hand began to stroke and sweep his mangear with our eagle feather. With the other, I began to give periodic turns of and tugs on the butt plug.

He moaned again and again, straining with hands and ankles against the tethers. Obviously, I was having a great effect. In the camera screen below me, I could see my hands as they tormented him.

I spun the plug a full half-turn, then immediately back and he actually rose off the pole for a second. When he dropped back down, the pole bent a full hand's-breadth before springing back.

I took out one of his favorite toys, a Wartenberg wheel - a small circle of sharp chrome points rotated freely in a matching handle. Walking around behind him, I began to run it lightly up one inner thigh, then down the other. His muscles tensed, relaxed, tensed again.

Slowly, very slowly, I ran it over the hardness behind his scrotum, between his legs, back and forth. Each time the wheel approached his anus, I paused and turned the butt plug. A ragged gasp came from his lips - desire, frustration, unfulfilled need.

Without lifting the wheel from his skin, I ran it up onto his bag and began to run random patterns over the shaven skin. I alternated turning the butt plug and slowly, firmly, thumbing his slippery cockhead. He limbs jerked and pulled against the restraints. The wooden pole bent and bounced beneath him.

I began to run the wheel up and down his shaft, careful to not damage that most sensitive skin. He groaned, shuddered, almost ready to cum.

I paused to let his throbbing desire play with his ego. Putting down the wheel, I again knelt before him and fed him a nipple. The sensations of his lips, teeth and tongue had me well on my way to a fourth orgasm.

Judging him to have settled down a bit, I resumed my work with the wheel, this time lingering solely on his cockhead. His breath hissed. Around, around, slowly, softly, the tantalizing pegs barely denting the now-purple skin.

He jerked, twisted, his breath ragged. His knuckles showed white on his clenched fists.

Putting down the wheel and tickling his distended balls with one hand, I started to pump his shaft with the other. The amount of motion in his soft skin was restricted by the lashing, but I was able to get enough movement to bring forth grunts and moans.

Putting a dab of lube on one palm, I held it flat and rubbed it over and over his crown - like polishing fruit - brushing the vibrator aside as I did so. He surged in my hand. I continued for a few more seconds, then grasped it very firmly and slowly brought my hand from the base to just below the head. And again.

He was panting now and his legs were rigid. His toes were digging into the sand.

I figured I needed to untie him soon to allow those bulging blood vessels to move some fresh blood. Time for action.

I began to pump his shaft firmly and quickly, turning the butt plug as fast as I could. He moaned and jerked, bouncing off the pole, pulling on all his tethers as if he was on fire. Then he froze as his cock began shooting thick streams across the ground. Somehow, he missed the cameras. I kept pumping him and turning the butt plug until he sagged in his bonds.

I detached the vibrator, unwound the cords from his balls and pulled out the butt plug as quickly as I could. I untied his hands and then his ankles. He reached up and pulled off the blindfold, but I had to help him stand.

I helped him onto the soft grass in the shade and cuddled with him as he lay, half asleep.

"I love you," I whispered into his ear.

"You, too," he relied, sleepily. "That was amazing, Thank you."

"You are most welcome, but... you know what, lover?" I said softly.

"What?"

"Our bet was for all day and it's not even noon yet."

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