A kinky story written by Timothy X. Rowe

Illustration by Theo Blaze.


His Master was tying the boy’s hands to the posts at the top of the bed, as he lay naked and stretched out on the king size bed.  There was only a sheet on the bed – no pillows, no blankets – just a waterproof, smooth light yellow sheet that made a crinkly noise as his Master rested His knee on the surface of the bed to reach the corner post where the boy’s wrist was being bound.

As Master finished tying his hands, he rose and moved to the boy’s bare feet.  He grabbed each foot, wrapped a rope twice around the ankle and bound it to one of the corner posts at the end of the bed.  His Master roughly handled each ankle and leg, and the boy could feel his cock getting hard … he always became aroused as he was being tied up and his bare skin was being touched.

“Getting erect are we boy?” his Master asked aloud as he stared at the boy’s cock, “I know how much you like being tied up my lad, but we have a long, long way to go before you are going to get any satisfaction tonight.”

The boy thought about the countless times this same ritual had been carried out since his Master had acquired him. Night after night after night of being bound tightly to this same bed and then, teased and tortured, and sometimes, after what seemed like an eternity, he might be allowed to cum. But most times he was left terribly horny and frustrated, with precum freely flowing from his rock hard cock.

His Master seemed to enjoy arousing and teasing and bringing the boy close to orgasm over and over and over, and then leaving the boy alone, tied to the bed and helpless, struggling to achieve satisfaction.  Those nights were the worst. They were the most challenging that he had to endure during this training process. And sometimes, he’d go weeks without having any release.

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Not only was he left with a throbbing, fully engorged penis, dripping heavily, but his balls were swollen with semen and deeply sore from the lack of release. And at the same time, his scrotum ached from being tortured.

Other nights began by his being tied face down and his ass beaten with a variety of implements – leather, rubber, wood — paddles crops and whips — each designed to bring a certain type of pain and leave his skin red, marked with stripes and horribly sore.

On those nights, after he had taken more punishment then he thought he could ever endure, he then was untied and turned over, and the punishment of his torso would begin. He willingly submitted to this routine of punishment over and over again, night after night … not because he enjoyed it, but because it was his passion to serve and please his Master.

“God,” he thought to himself as he stared at the ceiling, his wrists and ankles bound tightly, his legs spread wide, helpless and vulnerable “What is wrong with me? I do love it so.”

His Master stood over him now, looking at him from head to toe, inspecting every part of his smooth young body.

“Ahhhhh my boy, you are soooooo beautiful,”  his Master said, “Such fine features… your muscles are so firm and tight…. and so well proportioned…” and, as He spoke, the boy’s Master ran his hand ever so lightly over the lad’s smooth skin, made even smoother by the complete body shave which he was subjected to every three days.  His Master insisted that His slaves be completely hairless from the forehead down.

“Mmmmmmm, silky soft,” his Master murmured, guiding his hand up inside the boys leg, reaching the boy’s testicles and rubbing them gently, “such sweet little walnuts,” he said as He massaged each one of them with his fingers, “Maybe these sweet nuts need some attention, huh?”

With that, his Master moved over to the wall and took down a small, leather pouch that was hanging on a small hook.  He returned to the bed and, when the boy saw what was in his Master’s hands, he shook his head back and forth violently and his eyes widened. His Master unrolled the leather pouch revealing the short, shiny, needles that lined the inside. Rows and rows of needles, sharp, yet blunted so as to inflict pressure and pain but not puncture the skin of a his tender, sensitive scrotum.

“We’ll just wrap this pouch around these sweet little balls,“ said his Master. And, as the needles pressed against the boy’s scrotum, the boy instinctively pushed his body into the mattress as if he could somehow avoid the harsh stings of the dozens of needles pressing tightly now against his sensitive sack.  But his effort was futile, as it always was.

The pain was maddening and unavoidable – very nearly unbearable – but bear he did for if he resisted, he would be punished in a far worse manner.

“Now, we want it tight, but not too tight…. ” his Master said as he wrapped thin leather straps around the sack to hold it fast against the boy’s ball sack, “Yes, just so, pressure enough to keep you at attention right my young man?” and he gave the boy’s cock which was as hard as could be a light slap. His Master was pleased to observe a bit of moisture glistening at the tip. “You do love the pressure and pain, don’t you?”

“God . . . Please Master! No!” the boy pleaded like a child.

“He speaks!  He pleads!” his Master said sternly, “And … he disobeys!  He knows he is not supposed to speak unless spoken to doesn’t he?” and with the sarcastic question, the Master slapped the small leather sack with his open hand and the boy screamed in pain.

“Talk out loud again and I will tighten that little pouch twice as hard!” his Master said roughly, “Do you want that?”

And the boy shook his head wildly again, silent this time … resigning himself once again to his fate to obey and not question anything his Master did to him.

“Now, let’s get some nice clips on those sweet titties eh?” and the Master returned to what he called his “wall of play toys” and reached up and selected two silver clamps joined by a thin chain.

“I know these are your favorites,” his Master said softly as he admired the chrome clips, “These hurt like a son of a bitch when I put them on don’t they?”

The boy nodded in quick agreement at the same time shaking his head back and forth in the vain hope that his Master might show him some mercy.

“And, when I tug at them and rip them off, they hurt even more don’t they my sweet one?”

Oh God yes, the boy thought inwardly as he nodded again watching closely as his Master approach his right nipple with the nasty looking clamp.

“Ahhhh, hold on now, clench your teeth . . . take a deep breath . . .” and with that his Master installed the clamp on the boy’s tender nipple.  The pain burned through the boy’s chest while he whimpered quietly.

“Good boy. Now the other. Deep breath now . . .” and again, the tight metal clamp bit down hard on the boy’s sensitive nipple – its sharp metal teeth digging deep into it.

Oh Jesus, the boy thought, he’ll leave those on for an hour and then rip them off “Oh sweet Lord, the pain is so horrible!” the boy thought to himself and closed his eyes as he teared up.

“Now, you look pretty my boy, almost presentable.” his Master said, admiring His work and appreciating how the boy was writhing in pain from the needles attacking his scrotum and the clamps searing into his nipples.

“Mmmmmm, now what can we do next?” his Master wondered aloud as He absentmindedly caressed the boy’s erect penis.  He looked down now at the boy’s thick and swollen prick, “You certainly seem to be enjoying this so far. Look at all this wet stuff starting to drip out of you.”

“Jesus, I do love it so,” the boy thought, “damned if I don’t.” and the boy was very aware that if his Master kept rubbing his penis up and down like this, an orgasm might be impossible to stop. “God, that would be awful,” thought the boy, and terror built in the pit of his stomach at the thought of the punishment he would have to endure if he were to cum at this point. His Master would never tolerate such behavior however involuntary or indeed caused by his Master’s manipulations. The boy was expected to control himself.

His Master abruptly took his hand from the boy’s penis and brought it to his own chin.

“Now, what’s next?  What treat can we provide the boy tonight?” his Master asked out loud, He rubbed his chin with his fingers while he ran his eyes over the boy’s naked body.

“Oh, I know! You do know what day this is, don’t you?” his Master asked heerfully, “You do realize that this is a very special day don’t you?”

“What day is it? God, what day IS it?” the boy’s mind raced, unable to think of what answer his Master wanted him to give: “Is it some sort of holiday?” He knew it was Saturday night, but that was nothing special: the boy had been routinely bound and tortured every Saturday night since he was taken into his Master’s stable of slaves.

“What ‘special day’ could it possibly be?” The boy thought wildly, “God, I have no idea.” He hoped his Master would not punish him for not knowing.

“Give up?” his Master asked after a moment.

Sheepishly, the boy shrugged as an admission that he indeed had no clue as to what special day this was.

“You silly boy, have you forgotten your own birthday? Good Lord son, you are 19 years old this very day.” his Master declared and chuckled as he observed the boy’s genuine surprise.

God, the boy thought, my Birthday? … has is been a whole year since I formally submitted myself to my Master’s service?

And it was indeed, 12 months ago – 365 whole, sometimes very long, days ago – that the boy had been accepted into his Master’s stable.

The boy had realized at an early age he had submissive tendencies, but hadn’t been able to pursue these tendencies and, yes, a deep desire to serve someone Dominant, until he was old enough. And, as he approached his 18th year, the summer after his graduation from high school, he had posted an ad on the Internet:

“Submissive boy in search of a fair but strict Master for training and discipline.”

His present Master responded to the ad and, after several interviews and a thorough examination of the boy’s intentions and desires, a complete medical physical, and a psychological evaluation, his Master had offered the boy the opportunity to enter his stable and join his other slaves.

On the day after the boy turned 18, the boy accepted his Master’s offer of servitude, signing a complicated contract that committed the boy to his Master’s service for 3 years after which the contract could be renewed annually.

An “apprenticeship,” the contract stipulated: full service to the Master in return for room, board and “expert training with strict attention to the slave’s health and well-being.”  Reading the contract and the word “slave” sent a thrill through the boy. He loved everything about the idea of him being someone’s complete slave.

With the formal signing and witnessing of the contract, the boy forsook friends, family and his past, and formally and legally committed himself to his Master’s full ownership, control, and care.

Almost from the beginning, it felt, his Master treated the boy far more harshly than the other slaves – even the ones who joined the stable after he had.  His Master explained that the boy had a certain something – something very, well, special.  A unique gift that the Master wanted to bring out, a gift for accepting pain and delighting his Master by demonstrating almost no limits to what he would endure to please his Master.

Be design, the boy’s training was more intense, his discipline more frequent and his punishments more severe then that meted out to his fellow slaves.

Initially, the boy ironically rebelled against this seemingly unfair treatment, in spite of the fact that he had voluntarily accepted his role as a committed submissive.  The routines of torture and discipline and, yes, the harsh punishments for even the slightest of infractions and perceived disobedience, tested the boy every step of the way, pushing him to the very limits.

He communicated his rebellion with passive aggression at first, and then, gradually, anger: lashing out verbally at his Master each time he felt he was being unfairly treated.  Then, he came to realize that his anger only increased the severity and frequency of his punishment. Then the boy tried asking for and, later, pleading for mercy. But his Master was resolute to his task and would not relent.

Days and weeks and months past and eventually, in the midst of horrendous punishment and demands that the boy submit completely, the young man tearfully begged for mercy and promised he would do whatever was asked of him without any resistance or complaint.

This was the moment of catharsis for the Master. He called it “breaking the slave” and it gave him tremendous satisfaction that he had guided the boy carefully, step by step, flogging by flogging, to this complete breakdown of the boy’s resistance.

Now, notwithstanding his crying out this evening in response to the pain from the scrotum sack, the boy had learned to make no effort to recoil or express any outward sign of the pain that his Master inflicted upon him with agonizingly frequency.

To make the sessions have a more profound impact on the boy’s mind, at the of each, his Master required the boy to get on his knees and thank his Master for providing whatever torture his Master delivered.  This “ritual of gratitude” as his Master termed it, included the boy’s kissing the Master’s feet and washing them or any other part of his Master’s body with his tongue.

Such a program of training and discipline naturally had a deep affect on the boy, making him – little by little – day by day – hour by hour – the most submissive slave the Master had ever owned.

The Master was quite proud of His pet and often would show him off at social gatherings.  Regularly now, the boy was made to sit on his haunches for hours serving as a table or footrest or whatever piece of furniture his Master’s guests desired.  More recently, the boy had been well-used anally by his Master’s male guests and required to perform oral sex on his Master’s female guests whenever asked. Guests would literally line up for the boy to service them and on some evenings, night would turn into day before the boy’s full duties to the guests were complete. His body would be covered with semen and his mouth and jaw aching from performing oral service.

All of this was videotaped and records carefully kept so, if the boy every wished to leave his Master’s service, complete documentation could be made available to his relatives and friends. It was sort of an “incentive never to escaper” his Master explained.

The boy’s contemplation of all this were abruptly interrupted by his Master’s voice:

“So, the first year of your captivity and service is complete. Now, honestly,” his Master asked, “Aren’t you proud to have survived and to have become my prize pet?”

The boy, hesitating ever so slightly, thinking of the toll the months of torture had taken on his young body, on his spirit and on his impressionable psyche, nodded firmly in agreement his eyes meeting his Master’s to emphasize the fervor of his affirmation.

“Good boy. You are such a good boy!” his Master exclaimed and once again his hand softly caressed the boy’s erect penis, “And because you are such a good boy, and it’s your special day, I have a present for you tonight.”

Present?  What could his Master mean? Maybe some form of pleasure amidst all this pain? He thought with hopeful anticipation: “Maybe he will let me have a restful night without having to perform for him,” he thought.

His Master went to the bedroom door, opened it and gestured for someone to enter. “Come in, dear. Come right in.”

“O my fucking God!” The boy thought in horror as he saw the tall, slim girl enter the room, “Rebecca!”

Rebecca – Becky – had been the boy’s high school sweetheart.  They met in junior year and dated exclusively in their senior year. They went to prom together and only stopped seeing one another because the girl was going away to college and the boy, well, the boy had chosen a different avenue in life.

Before she left for school, he took the time to explain to her his plan and desire to be a slave. She naturally reacted in shock and disbelieve.  But, because she cared so much for him, learned to understand his strange goal and, before she left for school, wished him well.

She went off to an Ivy League college up North, and he entered his Master’s stable.

Now here she was. She was still unbelievably attractive and sexy. She was dressed in very short shorts and a tank top that ended above her waist showing off her flat tummy and sexy, pierced belly button.  Becky looked hotter than he had ever seen her before.  She was standing next to him and looked at him in semi-shock, eyeing him from head to toe as he lay naked, bound spread-eagle on the bed.

The boy was all too conscious that his cock was fully erect and dripping profusely. “God! Becky” he thought.

“I’ve have been in contact with Becky for quite some time, my lad,” his Master explained in the face of the boy’s obvious embarrassment, “She contacted me right after I accepted you and asked that she be kept informed that you were ok.”

Sweet Jesus, what is going on?  Becky – here – witnessing this. This is so fucking humiliating for her to see me like this!

The boy’s thoughts raced as he made eye contact with Becky and then his Master. The slender young girl who stood nervously at the end of the bed was in shock at the state of her former boyfriend.

“Have no fear lad,” his Master said, “She’s not here to ‘free’ you but wanted to make sure for herself that you were being treated well and, to hear from your own lips that this is the lifestyle you have dedicated yourself to. And, frankly, I invited her here to help celebrate your birthday.”

“How can I . . .” the boy thought, “how can I bear this humiliation . . . Becky . . . here . . . and seeing me like this . . . O dear God, please make this be a nightmare or something!”

“It’s okay,” Becky said in a soft gentle voice and moved to the bed and placed her hand on his shoulder, “I understand it all now.  Your Master explained the whole thing to me. And you know I only want the best for you. And if this is what you want, then I accept it and want it for you just as much as you do.”

Her touching his skin nearly drove the boy mad with sexual desire, anxiety and self-consciousness.

“I came here tonight to see for myself that you are okay and that you are happy with this arrangement,” Becky said earnestly, “Tell me honestly, are you happy?”

The boy looked at the girl and their eye’s met.  Oh that I could touch her again and make love to her once more, but he knew that his Master would never allow any sort of normal sexual contact between the slave and a girl.

“You can answer her, boy,” his Master directed.

Resigned to his fate, the boy responded: “Yes, Becky, I am happy.  This is what I want. The Master has been very good to me. And, it’s best for me.”

His Master said calmly, “I have explained to Becky that a boy like you, well, needs discipline in his life and she is so grateful to me for providing it, that she agreed to participate in today’s special celebration.”

“Yes don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” Becky assured the boy, softly caressing his shoulder and staring at the nipple clips, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that you were happy.”  And she placed her other hand on the boy’s tummy.

“You are doing what you want to do aren’t you?” she asked with a concerned catch in her voice.

“Answer the girl honestly now, lad,” his Master said sternly.

What choice did the boy have? This was what he wanted and what he had committed to with eyes wide open a year ago. The thought of leaving this lifestyle, being on his own, now frightened him. Yet, again, for a moment he yearned to be in Becky’s embrace, smelling her sexy perfume and being aroused by her presence and sensual body. But no, just as quickly, he knew what his answer had to be.

“Yes, Becky,” he said out loud, surprised himself at the intensity of his voice, “I am okay and this is exactly what I want . . . and what I need.”

And with those words, he could see Becky’s face fall just a bit, as if she hoped that his answer might be different.

“Fine lad,” his Master concluded, clapping his hands together, “now let’s get on with our celebration.” Ignoring the awkwardness of the situation he went to the wall lined with BDSM pariphanalia and collected several items.

“It’s time for some electro stimulation isn’t it my boy?” his Master asked lightly, “We haven’t wired you up for quite some time and I do know how much you enjoy this.”

“O Jesus.” thought the boy, “Not that! The last time he had been “wired up:” he was nearly driven insane from the sensation.  And the demand from his Master not to have an orgasm stressed every fiber of his being.

“First, Becky, we take this cylinder – this metal tube that looks like a phallus.” and the boy realized that his Master was going to play the teacher and show and explain the process in detail to Becky step-by-step.

“Oh god.” he thought, “what she must think of me? Of all this?”

“We lubricate it well with this electrical contact gel, see?” as he smothered the metal tube with a pink, glistening greasy lubricant from a metal jar labeled “conductive gel.”

“All nice and smooth and slick as can be, see?” And the Master was taking great pleasure in showing Becky the thick round metal object as he was approaching the boy on the bed.

“Why don’t you move around to the foot of the bed, Becky?” the Master suggested, “You can hold on to his ankles and get a very good view of what’s going on, ok?”

Becky did as suggested and when her soft hands grasped the boy’s ankles, he twitched and gasped slightly. Her hands were so gentle and soft.

“Now, at this point, we need the boy’s assistance.” The Master explained, “Boy, do your best now to raise that sweet, little butt of yours so I can see and reach your anus.” his Master ordered and with great difficulty and effort, the boy struggled and extended his torso and lifted his buttocks end up into the air.

“Now there see? We can reach his anus easily. Now, I’ll massage it with the conductive gel as well,” and his Master took a gob of the slimy pink stuff and worked it on and into the boy’s anus. “Ah yes, just so. So nicely lubricated and slippery!  See, here, Becky? How we keep everything cleanly shaven around the boy’s privates?”

The boy’s humiliation seemed to have no end as his Master and Becky stared at his red, hairless asshole together.

“Now then, we are ready for insertion. Let me first just attach this wire thus,” and the Master took a long red wire and hooked it firmly to one end of the cylinder, “There! Now we gently but firmly slip it inside here,” and the Master put the other end of the cylinder directly on the boy’s anus and pressed forward.

The boy’s natural tendency was to resist and tighten his ass muscles and with a loud “CRACK”, his Master slapped his butt cheek harshly with his open hand,

“Now relax god dammit,” his Master ordered firmly and, with the surprise of the slap, the boy did indeed release his anal muscles and the cylinder slid inside of him.

“Good boy!  Very good” his Master said, “Becky, sometimes it’s difficult to get that in there. The boy must want to show you how cooperative he can be.” his Master now turned his attention to a silver, metal ring with a black wire attached.

“Now, my dear, this is the metal ring that fits right on the boy and slips down to the base of his cock,” Master explained carefully.

The boy was embarrassed at how clinical it all seemed, this “hooking up” of his genitals in front of his ex-girlfriend.

“There now, all set up,” his Master announced as he slid the metal ring slowly but firmly down the boy’s penis, “Looks pretty doesn’t it?  You can lower your ass now boy, we are all ready to go.”

As the Master slid the metal ring down the boys cock to the base, more drips of precum came from his urethra. The ring fit tightly around the base of his cock that wasn’t uncomfortable, but the boy was very aware it was there.

Master picked up a small plastic box the size of a deck of cards and proceeded to plug the red and then the black wire into the end of the unit

“This is a ‘tens unit’ designed by the medical industry to stimulate muscles.” his Master explained to Becky and her eyes widened.

“My God,” she said quietly and with concern in her voice, “Is it safe to use electricity on him like that?”

“Oh my yes!” his Master responded confidently, “These are tools designed for the treatment of the human body you see … to heal damaged tissue … I assure you, it is perfectly safe.” his Master explained patiently to Becky, “However, I should tell you that we use it here with our boys as a different kind of simulation for a different set of muscles.” he said as he showed the box to Becky.

She stood now with her hands folded across her chest, looking at the box, and then, at the boy’s naked body with wires running from his ass and penis to the unit.  The boy could see that – and he knew the look – that she was becoming aroused herself by all of this clinical activity as well as his being naked. He saw that she was a bit flushed and breathing hard.

“See? This switch here can be set for direct stimulation – a constant flow of energy,” his Master explained further, “or for pulsing stimulation, that is, a rhythmic burst of energy. Both will send a surge of current through each wire and, together, they will cause current to flow. The charge will flow from the boy’s anus right up to his cock.” his Master was now sounding quite professorial and excited about the prospect.

“This other knob adjusts the level of current see?” his Master continued, “It’s a dial really, with a pointer and numbers from 1 through 10.  The low numbers indicate low current, the high numbers, of course, strong current. And this is the on and off switch.” and his Master was pointing out each feature of the unit as if he were a salesmen.

“Would you like to do the honors my dear?” his Master asked the girl politely.

“Oh no, I couldn’t,” Becky said quickly, “What if I turned the wrong thing and hurt him?”

“Nonsense, even at the highest level, the boy can take it,” his Master replied

I can? the boy thought, The last time the pain was so intense that he was hoarse from screaming.

“Well, if you say so and are sure it won’t burn him,” and the Master nodded and Becky took the control box, hesitantly turned it on and a small red light lit up.

“Good, step one, it’s on!” his Master declared, “Now start turning it up. Go to number 3 first.”

And Becky, turned the knob and the boy immediately felt a soft, lively, tingling from his anus to his cock running right through his testicles which were still encased in the constantly painful leather needle pouch.

O God, he thought, I remember now how horribly difficult this procedure was.  The boy was to endure the surging electricity and, the hard part, the trick, was that he was not allowed to ejaculate. This was an awful prospect for the young man who was now incredibly aroused and stimulated.

“He seems to be taking that quite well, let’s move up to number 6″ the Master proposed and Becky, looking carefully at the knob, adjusted it and then looked up at the naked boy.

God, the boy thought as he felt the strong surge of power running through him, this is going to be impossible not to cum. God, it feels soooooo good . . . and he closed his eyes feeling the warmish sensations rushing through his asshole to his cock.

“Now remember lad, you are not allowed to cum,” his Master reminded him in a soft whisper, and the boy tried to think of anything other than the current flowing through him, tickling him, teasing him and it took concentration and all his will power to control his ejaculation.

“Hmmm, he likes that, I can tell,” his Master observed, “When he closes his eyes, that means it feels really good. Let’s go to 7.5 Becky, and just leave it there…” and Becky adjusted the knob.

Beads of sweat were forming on the boy’s forehead and his body was now visibly damp with moisture. The room was warm and all the sexual stimulation internally and externally was causing him to heat up.

“Now, for the fun part,” his Master said cheerfully ”Let’s move it from a steady stream to pulsing.”

O GOD, NO! The boy thought in terror, and watched as Becky switched the knob.  Immediately, instead of a constant flow of energy from his anus to his penis, there was an alternating flow: on / off –  on / off –  on / off – a maddening rhythm . . . and one that simulated stroking the penis … Christ, he thought, it was nearly impossible to stop from having an orgasm with the rythmic stimulation.

God, the boy thought, how can I control myself? He closed his eyes trying to keep from thinking of the sensation that was surging through his genitals.

“Oh my,” his Master said, “I can see from the drips of sperm at the tip of our boy’s penis here,” and he reached over and lifted up some with his finger, “He’s ready to pop! Isn’t it delightful?”

The Master took his wet finger and rubbed it on the boy’s lips.

O Jesus, the boy thought, and felt the moisture and tasted the salty taste of his own sperm as his Master’s finger rubbed the precum into the boy’s lips. Sweet Jesus this was going to take every ounce of will power the boy had to keep from cumming.

“My goodness,” Becky said, “Is he okay?” as she stared at the naked boy and saw a drop of sweat trickle down the side of his head.

“Oh my yes,” his Master responded, “We’ve done much more then this to his sweet body haven’t we boy?”

And the boy, having been trained to respond quickly, nodded his head in agreement.

“I think you can see that he really thrives on this treatment,” his Master said confidently to the girl.

“Well, if I hadn’t seen if with my own eyes, I’m not sure I would have believed it” Becky said her eyes focused now on the boy’s throbbing member.  “God, he does look uncomfortable though. Isn’t it hard for him not to have an orgasm?”

“Nonsense, he loves it, don’t you boy,” his Master stated, “You like the idea of our having total control over your orgasm don’t you?”

And, again, in conformance with his strict training, the boy nodded quickly in the affirmative.

“Now.  It is time for the real celebration!” his Master said exuberantly, “This is going to be a real treat boy!”

The REAL celebration? My dear Lord, there’s more?  Now what? The boy thought as he clenched his teeth in his effort to control his urge to cum.

“This my dear, is a taper,” his Master said, pointing with the index finger of his left hand to a long, thin straight white stringy form he held with the fingers of his right hand, “It is, quite simply, a slender candle wick that has been dipped a few times in hot wax.  These several layers of wax on the wick make the wick burn slowly but not, of course, as slowly as a regular candle,” his Master explain as both Becky and the boy looked at him.

“I saw these in a church, near the votive candles,” his Master went on, “And, knowing that my boy’s birthday was at hand, immediately thought of an activity that would mark the boy’s first anniversary with me as well as provide for the traditional birthday wish.”

Dear God what is he going to do with that thing?

“I thought that, instead of the traditional cake and candles – how really boring that whole scene is when you stop and think about it – we would, instead, use the boy’s cock as a candlestick!” his Master exclaimed.

The boy was confused. “Cock candlestick?” What does he mean?

“With some lubricant, we can insert this little thin thing into my boy’s penis, light him up and sing Happy Birthday.  Now doesn’t that sound like fun?” his Master asked gaily and the boy, when he comprehended what was about to be done to him, nearly passed out.

“My God! Won’t he get burnt?” Becky asked anxiously.

“Well now, that’s the fun part don’t you see?  As you and I sing, the boy can blow the candle out. Of course it will be very far from his mouth, so he will have to blow real hard. And, since I will be tying these nipple clamps down here at the sides of the bed, as the boy tries to lift himself up to get close to the taper, he will be pulling hard on these clamps and they will tug ever tighter on those nipples. Delightful!  Don’t you agree?” his Master asked Becky with an evil grin.

“Well, I don’t know. You’re sure he likes this kind of thing?” Becky asked uncertainly. But at the same time, she was really turned on by the sight of her naked ex-boyfriend being used in this strange and, oddly sensual manner.

“Well, let’s ask him. You like the sound of that plan, don’t you boy?” his Master inquired pointedly.

And, without hesitation, the boy nodded enthusiastically although deep inside, he was filled with fear.  What if he can’t blow the candle out?  … Won’t he be terribly burnt?  Dear God, and I’m very nearly on the verge of cumming, and his anxiety rose as he was aware of the severe punishment he would be given if he dared to cum without permission.

His Master went busily about filling a small eye dropper with a clear liquid and carefully inserting it into the boy’s penis.

“This will help ease the taper into his urethra,” the Master explained and he turned now to the taper that he soaked thoroughly with the same liquid.

“Hospitals use this lubricant for just this purpose – for inserting catheters into the urinary tract – it is both slippery and contains an anti-bacterial solution.  We wouldn’t want my boy to get an infection now would we?” and then, to the boy’s dismay and amazement, watched as his Master brought one end of the foot and a half long taper to the head of his penis and placed it just inside his urethra.

O MY GOD, the boy thought, careful not to cry out for real, IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING?

“Now boy, whatever you do, don’t move, if you do, of course, this could hurt a lot,” and his Master held the boy’s penis straight up and slowly and carefully slid the tape inside it. All three watched as the taper slipped, ever so slowly, inside the boy’s rock hard penis.

“Now see?” his Master said, “The tricky part is over, it’s inside.” And slowly, ever so slowly, all three watched as the long taper entered deep into the boy’s member.

“There,” his Master said satisfied, “Now it’s resting right outside the boy’s bladder and that is as far as we go.”

The 18-inch taper was now about three-quarters of the way inside the boy’s penis and urinary tract.

The boy looked as his Master now went about tying the boy’s nipple clamps tightly to the side of the bed.  As his Master fastened each one, the clamps tugged on the boy’s nipples and caused excruciating pain.  The boy calculated that the slightest raising of his back off of the bed would cause incredible pain. The nipple clamps were designed so that the more you tugged on them, the tighter their grip would be.

Becky looked frightened and the boy looked on in terror as his Master struck a match and brought it to the head of the taper.  The lighted end was about 6 inches from the top of the boy’s cock.

“Becky, someone has to hold the boy’s penis straight up so it doesn’t burn his tummy,” The Master explained, “Would you?”

Becky leaned forward and grabbed the boy’s penis with one hand and held it and the burning taper up as straight as she could.

With that, the Master said, “Well now, let’s sing! And boy, don’t start blowing until I tell you understand?”

The boy nodded quickly – terrified and wildly alert now. The electrical pulses were still pulsing through him keeping him incredibly aroused and the taped inside his cock was, well, it was like he was being cock fucked. He’d never experienced such a sensation before. The clamps were still giving him burning pain on his nipples.

All this with Becky’s sweet, soft hand holding his stiff cock. Jesus Christ.

“Okay, let’s go Becky!” his Master said cheerfully and the two of them began to sing:

“Happy Birthday to you…. “

This is insane! The boy thought.

“Happy birthday to you… “

The boy looked frantically at the taper as it burned, getting closer and closer to the top of his penis.  Drops of wax were falling on his bare skin, searing him with hot pain. He looked frantically at his Master, waiting expectantly for the signal to blow. He took long, deep breathes to prepare himself to blow as hard as he could to extinguish the flame that licked at the air.

“Happy Birthday dear ‘slave boy’“

And his Master held up his hand to pause the singing. All watched in silence as the taper burned on. Whisps of smoke rose up as the flame burned closer and closer to the boy’s sensitive cock.  The boy looked frantically from the taper to his Master. He eyes widening at the flame. He was awaiting the signal, attempting now to rise slightly off the bed and immediately feeling the torturous pain of his nipples tugging against the clamps. It felt like they were being ripped from his chest.

It seemed forever before his Master sang:

“Happy birthday toooooooo you . . . “

And his Master gave the signal as the flame on the taper was now less than an inch from the head of the boy’s penis, and a good distance now from the boy’s mouth.

The boy had no choice but to rise up as far as his bonds would allow him to – which was only about a half a foot from the surface of the bed – and as he did so, the clamps tore deeply into his nipples and he felt as if his skin was being ripped away . . . and, with as deep a breath as he could muster, he blewwwww . . .  and blewwwww . . . and blewwwww again . . . and, looked on in amazement at the flame flickered but, would not go out.

Panicking now, as the flamed burned ever closer, he felt its heat now on his penis . . . the boy blewwwwww again . . . and . . . blewwwwwwwww again . . . and, with the deepest breath he could muster, BLEWWWWWWWWWW again . . . but it was no good and the flame refused to be put out. As the boy looked to his Master for mercy and help, incredibly he could see his master adjusting the tens unit and could feel that the full current produced by the little unit was pulsing through his penis and realized with terror that there was no way he could blow the taper out and, now, he could no longer control his orgasm with the intensity of the electrical pulses at their maximum . . .

Becky squeezed his cock reactively and the boy was helpless now, spent from trying to blow the flame and just as the flame on the taper licked and sizzled at the precum at the top of the boy’s penis, the boy erupted with an orgasm with uncontrollable thrusts of his torso and gushes of sperm shot from his cock. The incredibly wonderful feeling of the orgasm mixed with his amazement and relief as the wet sperm shot with such force out and extinguished the flame at the end of the taper.

The boy collapsed on the bed exhausted and overwhelmed by the orgasm that still rushed through his cock and body and by the pain of his nipples.

God, he thought, God . . . Jesus . . . to cum like this . . . God . . . it feels . . . so . . . good . . . O Jesus Fucking Christ

And Becky and his Master broke into applause!

”Great job boy, great job!” his Master said approvingly, “That was so much fun, and I can’t wait to do it again when all my guests arrive later this evening. “

Again?  Again? The boy thought incredulous … We are going to do this AGAIN?

“Yes my boy,” as if in answer to his silent question his Master said, “To make tonight’s birthday celebration even more exciting, Becky and I are going to decorate your naked body with these colorful cake decorations.  Won’t that be sweet?  And, when my guests arrive they will be invited to choose their body part and to lick it clean…. “

Sweet Jesus, the boy thought as the afterglow the incredible orgasm swept over him, how can I take this?

“I am soooo good to you my lovely little slave.” his Master told him, “I think you are going to remember this birthday for a long, long time, because, when you think if it, it is really your very first birthday in your new life. As the saying goes, this is really the first day of the rest of your life. Many happy returns my boy.”

And tears streamed down the boy’s cheeks, tears of agony, joy and of resignation to his fate; the fate he himself had chosen. The first day of the rest of this life as a total slave!

Finis

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Timothy X. Rowe

Timothy X. Rowe

Timothy X. Rowe writes under a pseudonym which he feels gives him uninhibited freedom to explore kink and BDSM. He personally has enjoyed sexual situations as either a Dominant or submissive, but most of what he writes is fantasy. He earned a bachelor’s in English Literature and is well-read in the classics as well as the wide world of pornographic literature. He has studied the writings of the Marquis de Sade extensively. In his stories, Tim places his submissive characters in near impossible situations where they discover that pain heightens sexual pleasure, resistance is futile and obedience and discipline is freedom. Tim may be contacted through his Tumblr page, where he collects and stores pornographic images of every sort.
Timothy X. Rowe

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