Careful what you wish for. Two - Introductions
There was no sound. None. All he could hear was his own breathing. He was hanging in a hogtie, slowly turning below the suspension system. The heavy, customised sensory-deprivation hood had removed all sights and sounds from his world. The hood's in-built tube-gag keeping his mouth apart, now drooling profoundly. A barely noticeable cool breeze was fanning his naked body. Tingling currents from electrodes coiled around his cock causing him to twitch. The huge electrified buttplug makes his sphincter contract and expand, rhythmically; for all intense and purposes fucking him with its considerable heft.
Still no sound.
Fingers! Out of nowhere. Softly caressing. His hard and erect nipples. Expert fingers. He jerks; moans unashamedly with unbridled lust. His cock responding almost instantly. Throbbing. Insanely hard. She stops as abruptly as she started.
Again, no sound. Did he hear, faintly? A mocking laugh? A giggle?
There, no sound, leaving him confused, jerking in his bonds. Drooling uncontrollably. Moaning. Gasping.
Then!
The sting!
The cane!
Cutting!
Across! His left arse cheek.
Quickly followed by more, on his right cheek. Swinging helplessly in mid-air. Groaning and jerking as the cane continues out of nowhere cutting across his arse.
And still no other sounds. Whatsoever.
Unlike his groaning and swinging, the cane had stopped.
Again, no sound. Only his own gallery of groans, moans and whimpers.
He thinks his cock is dripping. Ever so slightly.
He jerks rapidly as the currents intensify around his cock, his sphincter rapidly contracting and expanding, lube running down from his twitching arse-cunt.
Still only his own sounds.
He screams involuntarily as the strings of the whip dance across his arse. Left. Right. Left. Top. Bottom. Right. Left. Right.
The dance continues into the darkness of his sight until his mind drifts into subspace. The silence broken only by the unrelenting chatter from the whip kissing the skin of his arse.
He's sure his cock is dripping. Electrified to be kept at maximum hornyness. His cum allowed out only in sticky drips.
He moans and whimpers and no longer cares to hide his randyness. He wants to cum so badly. He will do anything She may want to ask of him, realising that his current state gives her more pleasure than watching him cum.
The whip is keeping him right where She wants his subspaced mind to be. Her slut. Her whore. Her two-hole rootrack. Does she want to turn him into her whore? 'Ok! Ok! Please! Just let me cum. Soon! Please!' His mind drifts off.
Suddenly. Again. Just his sounds. Breathing and whimpering heavily. Sweating. His arse, his cock; dripping. His mind a subspaced blank flooded by multiple time-lapsed porn movies. Girls, him, fucked and bound every way, flooded with cum, groaning and jerking in their torturous bounds surrounded by demanding cocks and cunts as they, him, submit and serve.
Stillness. No sounds. Only his own subspaced kaleidoscope of groans, moans and whimpers.
He's hers. Swinging. Her Whore. Her slut. Imploring Her. To let him cum. Turning. Begging! For cock. To serve.
How long? What for? Who for? His senses now focused. On his two holes. And on his cock. A third hole? For Her to play with? For him to explode -- from?
Silence surrounds his subspaced groans as his mind drifts into a realm filled with naked, bound and stilettoed girls being fucked and sexually tormented. Soon he starts yearning to be one of them. To feel those cocks filling him. Being forced by those gorgeous Mistresses to do as They wish.