My Balls Inside Him

I was wrong—wish I was that young! In actually only about two minutes, staring into the sexy blue eyes of our Mistress, he again produced a copious amount of sperm—crushing my poor testicles in the process with four or five anal spasms. Our Mistress pulled my hand away—she says we need him tomorrow, and let his orgasm conclude unsatisfactorily. But she spared me the post-orgasmic torture of the previous sessions. I was grateful. She pulled him up by the hair and my balls emerged with an audible plop! They ached. Despite my earlier claim that I might prefer her cutting them off, I was happy to see them.

I was untied, including my very stretched cock, and left to sleep on the bare mattress in the dark, cold basement without a cover. I also got to go to the bathroom. She asked the young man upstairs with her, reporting that she would probably fuck him a couple of times that night. His erection had finally subsided and when he walked the long slender organ alternately struck each thigh. I suspected my Mistress could change that.

In the cold basement, I more shivered than slept. The bare lights were left on and I was left to snatch a little bit of rest. Exhausted from the day's activities, I craved sleep. I still had received no liquids but his thick gooey cum, my mouth was dry, and my lips were starting to chap.

What couldn't have been more than three hours later, I was awakened by a familiar feeling. My balls were being lifted and stretched toward the ceiling in her hand. My Mistress, pulling my balls as high as she could, told me to get ready, showed me a tennis ball, then forced it into what looked like an athletic sock. She handed it to the well-hung young man and said, "You've got 5 shots to make him beg you to quit. If you don't, it's your turn."

He reached back with the sock with the tennis ball inside, swinging it with all his might.

The blow took my breath away. I tried to breathe in and out to ease the pain. He reached back again, swinging the sock in a circle, and wailed away. "Oh god," I thought, "I can't take three more of these."

The next time he reached back, I said "Please don't. I can't take it."

"Tie him back up." She ordered. He cuffed my legs to the lower bed posts. Then grabbed my wrists and cuffed them to the headboard posts. He grabbed my erect cock, looped the rope around it, and stretched it grotesquely to the headboard. Finally, he took a six foot rope, looped it around my balls, and again tied them so they pointed toward the sky.

"Put a pillow under his head," she instructed. The young man did as he was told. "I want him to watch this."

She placed an approximately 3 inch wide flat board under my distended testicles. Placed another on top. Then she put a bolt and wing nut through a hole in each end. She tightened them until they were snug but not painful.

She ordered the handsome young man to tighten each side one full turn. He did so. Again, snug, but not painful.

Our mistress said to the young man, "OK, you have 3 minutes. Every 30 seconds, you're going to tighten the wing nuts another full turn." She looked at me and said "If you so much as utter a sound, you'll spend the rest of the day like that, and I will be testing the reflexes on your flattened balls while our young man here attacks your mouth again."

Anticipating the pain that was coming, I began the deep cleansing breaths of a woman giving childbirth. Thirty seconds went by and I got the first full turn each side. Still bearable. Thirty more seconds went by and I began to feel the squeeze from the second full turn.

At a minute and a half, the next turn came and it really started to hurt. At two minutes, I clenched my teeth and looked down at my now very flattening testicles. But I kept my silence. At 2 ½ minutes, I felt nauseous when he turned the screws another full turn. At three minutes, he turned again and I dug my nails into my palms, but I held my silence. She backed him away and left me like that.

"Very good!" Our Mistress said, tracing her finger up and down the length of the underside of my penis. She stopped at the base and said, "This has been neglected too long." She directed the young man to bring her a large C-Clamp. He did, and she tightened it at about the midpoint of my stretched cock. She placed the clamp so tightly that my cock now looked like a figure 8, crimped almost completely in the middle.

She handed the doctor's reflex hammer to the young man, directing him to strike the boards crushing my balls every five seconds. She licked her fingers and started to rub the underside of my cock with two fingers, on the frenulum, where the head joins the underside. I had been waiting so long and had seen so much sexual activity that I very quickly responded to the light touch of her fingers.

At five seconds, I felt the first blow—It hurt so bad. Then another, then another, then another. Despite that, the fingers on my frenulum were beginning to have an effect. I felt a tingle in my groin and legs, a spark of electricity through me, then I started to spasm. My breathing grew heavy and I began the spasmic response of an orgasm. But I produced nothing. The C Clamp prevented anything from coming out. My cock was twitching and her fingers kept rubbing, but my orgasm was dry. It was terribly unsatisfying and I clenched my firsts and drew my breath in frustration.

Everybody was getting theirs but me. My balls were being abused horribly, but they weren't getting any relief. She continued to tickle the underside of my cock with her two fingers and he continued to pound the boards crushing my balls. My body kept reacting to the unsatisfying stimulation. Our Mistress kept rubbing the sensitive underside of my head for a full two minutes after my dry orgasm. I was so frustrated, I was virtually in tears.

Our Mistress asked me if I wanted some water and I nodded. I still didn't dare speak. It felt so good to get moisture in my mouth for the first time in more than 24 hours. I drank greedily, thanked her , and lay my head back on the pillow. She directed the handsome young man to free my balls, untie my penis, but to leave me chained to the bed.

As near as I could figure, it was still only Saturday. I had a day to go. My stomach ached and my testicles felt like they'd been through a meat grinder. I wondered if I could fit my bruised, swollen testicles inside my khakis when I went to work on Monday.

She took the young man upstairs again. I watched his penis flopping back and forth as they climbed the stairs and I stared at our Mistresses' sexy ass. I was horny, unsatisfied, and very jealous.

I heard some noise upstairs, maybe they were making dinner or having a drink. About 20 minutes later, our Mistress came back down the stairs carrying a large aluminum bucket. She sat the bucket by the bed and climbed between my legs. She lifted my balls gently and began to study them. "These seem badly bruised and very swollen." She reported. "I've got plans for them tomorrow, so I think we need to heal them a little."

She reached in the bucket, picked up a large plastic bag full of ice, and dropped it from about a foot above me onto my crotch. I gasped at the combination of the force of the drop and the sudden sensation of extreme cold. She reached back in the bucket and pulled out a roll of duct tape. Using several strips of the duct tape, she taped the bag to my crotch. It was so cold I was already starting to have that "hurt" feeling you get from ice on bare skin.

"That should make sure the bag doesn't fall off." She said, almost giggling. "I'll be back in a while to check on you. A good slave would be grateful to have his injuries attended to."

"Thank you mistress," I whispered as my teeth began to chatter.

"You might want to try and get some sleep. The finale is tomorrow." She said. A sly smile erupted from her face, as she turned and walked that fine ass away from me.

I couldn't help but think that smile meant that tomorrow would be worse. How? It didn't seem possible.

I looked to my right and saw the bucket was still there. Had she forgotten it?

Very soon, my balls, my thighs, my penis and my stomach were completely numb from the exposure to the plastic bag filled with ice. The bag was "sweating" and water ran down my sides and between my thighs and began to soak the bed. Between the ice and the irritating wet sheets, there was no way I could sleep. I tried to at least slide away from the wetness, but it was useless, I was so thoroughly stretched I simply couldn't move.

Our Mistress hadn't told me how long I would be like this and I had no concept of time by this point anyway. It could have been an hour, two hours, or more. Finally, I heard the creaking hinges to the door above the stairs and heard the familiar clop, clop, clop of her heels on the stairs.

"Let's have another look at 'my' balls." She sneered. She began slowly peeling away the duct tape (and all the hair beneath it), causing my to groan. "Shut the fuck up or I will simply tape the bag back down." She shouted. I got the message.

I breathed hard as she slowly lifted the four strips of duct tape securing the bag of ice. She removed the bag, placing it on my chest—horrible cold again—and performed another testicle exam. "Be grateful I even deem these worthy of touching." She said sternly. And began to roll them around in her fingers.

"I see a little bit of improvement, but I think we need to ice you down a while longer." She grabbed the bag, threw it on my crotch again, and applied the duct tape. "I have a young stud ready to fuck me, upstairs."

I think now I know how Eskimos feel during sex.

The sexy ass walked away from me again, she ascended the stairs, the door hinges creaked as she closed it, and the numb feeling in my crotch returned. And the damned sheets were still wet.

Exhausted and still stretched in four directions, I think I may have dozed a bit.

Sometime later, the door hinges caused me to awake with a start. This time there was no clop, clop. Rather, the soft bare feet of Mr. Long Penis began to come down the stairs.

"Mistress told me to come down and remove the ice." He said softly, one of a very few words he had uttered the entire weekend. "She said you can also be released to sleep over there," pointing at the mattress, "and that I'm to provide you a blanket."

He too, slowly pulled the duct tape away, causing me great discomfort, and finally removed the ice. He didn't pause to inspect my testicles, but I suspect he was glad they were less swollen than when he left, given where they would likely be.

He removed the cuffs securing from my feet to the bed, then from my hands, his big cock hanging mere inches from my face. He helped me get into a sitting position on the bed, then put my arm over his shoulder and slowly walked me to the mattress.

My cock was stiff as a board because of sexual frustration and I think the closeness of our contact caused him to become aroused. He too began to stiffen and again assumed the 45 degree angle. We walked together across the room, our cocks bouncing down, then up with each step.

"Don't touch yourself, Mistresses orders." He warned. "Just sleep." Then he whispered, " I'd help you out with that, but. . ." he concealed his hand and then pointed toward the upper wall of the room with his index finger. There was a camera.

My entire ordeal was being videotaped and Mistress was probably monitoring us to make sure we didn't take care of any of our sexual frustration there.

"Thanks." Was my whispered reply. " But right now I just want to sleep in a warm dry place."

He released me to lay down, walked over to a small cabinet, pulled out a blanket, and spread it over me. He told me goodnight and I think I was asleep before he reached the stairs.