My Balls Inside Him

I woke up in a dank basement chained to a four poster bed. Standing next to me, head bowed, was a man I didn't recognize. Lithe, well muscled, fairly young, and attractive, with short brown hair and brown eyes, maybe 22 or 23 years old best I could tell. His erect cock was sticking upward, as a young man's will, apparently from some manipulation by our Mistress. Our Mistress was sitting in the chair next to us, looking sexy as hell. She was dressed in a bustier, thin, a "high breasted" woman, brunette, blue eyed, with a very sexy rear end, that sexy thigh gap, and a voice that could make you cum without touching.

I realized my cock was literally stretched from the head up and tied to the head of the bed. I too was hard, because I love being restrained, but even if I hadn't, it would have been stretched to a full eight inches (it wasn't quite that long) by the rope that attached it to the bed. I was restrained in a four corners restraint. I would have moved up to ease the stress on my penis, but my legs were spread wide and my ankles were securely fixed to the bedposts. I couldn't move.

Then the instructions began. First the young erect slave was ordered to get lube. He was ordered to lube his anus. I began to think this might not turn out so bad. I would have enjoyed plowing that field. I watched as he slathered generous amounts of lubricant around his anus, then plunged his ring forefinger inside himself and watched him plunge it deeply.

But things quickly took a turn for the worse. He was instructed to take a thin white cotton rope and wrap it tightly around my scrotum, until my balls were perched at least two inches above my legs. He complied, gently lifting my balls and then, under our Mistress's instructions, not so gently tightening the cotton rope around them. He tied the rope in a square knot, hard, as directed, and when he finished, my balls were poised in a rather extreme position, sticking straight up to the sky. I could see they were turning dark purple, matching the head of my grotesquely stretched penis.

Our Mistress issued more instructions. He was told to slap my balls left and slap my balls right—Hard. I closed my eyes and then it came. "Damn." I groaned. She told me to shut up. She didn't want a sound from me. So I bit my lip in an effort to obey.

She ordered him to slap them again, top, then bottom. He complied. I could feel the agony in my stomach and my instinct was to curl up, but I couldn't. I was so stretched out that I couldn't pull my knees in.

Our Mistress instructed him to have a seat on my balls. He faced me, his long, thin, hard cock sticking up at a 45 degree angle, revealing a very large set of balls pulled high and tight in his scrotum because of his raging erection. His ass was resting on my raised balls. Uncomfortable, but not extremely so.

Then she ordered him to bounce. Oh God, immediately the pain became excruciating. She started counting "Mississippi's." Every Mississippi was another bounce. She kept ordering him to get higher and then fall down on my extended testicles. I could hardly maintain my silence, but her stare told me I must. I did my best, but still uttered occasional sounds. She told me to "shut the fuck up" or she would remove him and take his place. It would be a lot worse, she told me. The bouncing went on for about five minutes, and I figure he bounced hard on my balls about 300 times. The agony of this process made it seem like hours. I looked down, and my balls were no longer just purple—they were now black and blue too. The pain in my gut was horrendous.

Then she pulled out a doctor's reflex hammer—the kind with the pointed hard plastic end with a metal sheath holding it in place. She ordered her other slave to test my testicular reflexes, striking the top, the bottom, the left, the right, and directly in the middle five times each. Those damn things are made of hard rubber and they're heavy. I moaned audibly as he struck me repeatedly with that thing. Now, I was now beginning to feel nauseous. My stomach was absolutely in knots and I was pouring a cold, clammy sweat. She told me to shut up or it would be worse. She would take over and be far less merciful. " Yes," she concluded at last, my testicle reflexes were still intact.

But it did become worse anyway. She ordered him to stick my balls inside his anus, one at a time. I don't think he was a virgin back there, but damn he was close. He stuck the right one in first. It was the more distended from the tight rope, and went in without a great deal of difficulty. I muttered damn to myself and she ordered him to put the left one in. It was slightly lower, and it took several minutes for him to work it in. The process was agony. He would press from the bottom, work it part of the way in, then it would pop free. He would repeat. Just going through this made my gut ache. Finally she said she would do it, grabbed it with her fingers, and pushed relentlessly until it popped in. I breathed hard because my balls were literally crushed against each other inside his asshole. I don't think it was any picnic for him either as he was likely stretched wider than he had ever been before.

But that wasn't the end of it. When she forced the second inside his asshole at last, he was ordered to raise and lower himself very subtly, but if one came out, he would have to work it back in. He was very careful, probably not wishing to go through the insertion process again, lifting himself about an inch, then lowering himself. My nuts stayed inside him, but god it was horribly painful. I cried out in agony and she grabbed my nipples, pinched and twisted hard and ordered me to shut up again.

Our Mistress ordered him to hold still, then started punching him in the stomach. Each punch produced an involuntary spasm, causing his asshole to clench and squeeze my balls mercilessly. Every blow, he was ordered to count. One---two—all the way to fifty. I was on the verge of passing out.

Then our Mistress made it worse. She took his erect penis in her hand, began to stroke him slowly and deliberately, and started moaning seductively. His response was predictable. After about two minutes, I could feel his anus clinching and unclinching around my bound and trapped balls. My mind swirled with agony.

His moans let me know he was about to cum from our Mistress's manipulations. I was thinking this was really gonna hurt. Finally, he reached the point of no return and she ordered him to sit very still and she let go of his cock. His anus started clinching involuntarily over and over, squeezing my already confined and damaged balls inside his anus as he began to spasm. His long slender cock bounced in correspondence with each spasm as he ejaculated. His cum spurted all the way from my chin to my stomach, but all I felt was the vice grip on my black and blue balls. Rope after rope of cum erupted on my stomach, chest, shoulder and right arm. Every spasm gave me a new squeeze and I finally couldn't take any more. I screamed and he moaned as he spurted his huge load all over me, crushing my balls in the tight sphincter of his anus.

Then came the worst of all. She began to rub her open palm over his sensitive post orgasmic glans, still ordering him not to move. He began to whimper, ultimately crying, and his anus spasmed repeatedly, squeezing my testicles tighter in their vice grip. Finally, I succumbed to the crushing of my testicles by his spasming asshole and I passed out.

I awoke a while later. Dried cum was all over me, he was still seated on my crotch, and he still had my balls stuck up his ass. Our Mistress looked at us and asked if we were ready for the next round. We repeated the process, but the second time, it took the young guy a lot longer to cum, the spasms of his ruined orgasm lasted much longer, and the post orgasmic torture and his response took just as long. His torturous anal spasms lasted what must have been a full ten minutes. When it was over, I was overcome with the pain and he was completely spent. He just wanted those balls out of his ass. We agreed on that point. She told him to remain very still, then walked over and forcefully shoved him off me. My balls were suddenly forced through his narrow opening, bringing the final surge of agony into my gut. His long slender penis, flaccid for the first time, hung across his right leg, with the head pointed toward the top of the four poster bed.

Our Mistress tells me after dinner, which I will be fed by him while still chained, I will thank him by letting him fuck my face. Then we're going to repeat the balls in process. We've got all weekend, he's young, and he can cum over and over again. He's no happier than I am.

I'm thinking I might want her to just cut them off. He probably would be willing to give up his cock if he could avoid this. Both of us think It would be less painful than what we're in for.

Part one of my fantasies.

Chapter Two

Still restrained in four directions, I awoke from a short nap. My stomach hurt, by testicles ached. My cock was still grotesquely stretched up, and I was still helpless. But hard.

I was starving, but I was really more thirsty. I begged my Mistress to provide me with some water. She said "You'll get your liquid nourishment in a bit. But you will remember, I promised you dinner." She directed the sexy young man with the long slender penis to feed me. His cock was soft now, and dangled between his legs, flitting back and forth between his thighs as he walked. He started feeding me, reaching into a Chinese take out box and delivering bits of teriyaki steak via chop sticks into my mouth. My stomach told me I was famished and I ate them greedily. It was followed with a bit of fried rice and a spring roll. It was good but I wasn't quite full. The young man ate from the same box too. His cock, victim of multiple unsatisfactory orgasms, began to stiffen, and now half hard, hung close to my left arm as we shared the morsels and our Mistress talked to us.

Our Mistress told me we would follow it up with a large piece of sausage and some custard. She began to gently tickle the head of the young man's cock. Amazingly, even though he had cum hard and been abused for several minutes after cumming twice, his young penis began to respond. In about a minute, I was staring at this long slender throbbing penis, again standing at a 45 degree angle from his body and bouncing up and down on the left side of my body. Our Mistress chuckled and marveled at how youth rebounds.

She said I had been fed and now it was time to wash it down with some man juice. She ordered him to place his thighs over my shoulders as I lay on my back and place his lengthy member on my lips. She ordered me to get it in my mouth. I raised my head and struggled to work the upwardly angled cock between my lips. Finally, I looped my tongue over the tip, pulled it down and trapped it between my lips, holding it there. She told him that if he closed his eyes and used his imagination, his cock was in the mouth of a twenty year old supermodel—or the Mistress—and that he should have no trouble staying turned on. What it really was was the mouth of a forty something middle aged man.

She then instructed him to continue feeding me by leaning forwarded and driving his cock into my mouth until his balls smacked my chin and his stomach pushed against my nose. He obeyed and my first response was to gag as the long slender penis reached the back of my throat. She told me that if he even so much as felt my teeth on him I would be severely punished.

She told the young man it was the only chance he had for the weekend to reach a fulfilling orgasm, but that he had only five minutes to complete it. He began to attack my face with gusto. I gagged several more times, but adjusted and eventually was able to overcome my urge to throw up.

After a few seconds, I began to feel a familiar pang in my stomach. Oh god, she was down there between my widely spread legs, my balls in her hands and was squeezing them with a powerful grip. My stomach again began to revolt as I was assaulted by this long man-meat in my throat and this sexy but cruel Mistress attacking my balls. I could feel her fingernails digging in to each testicle and squeezing tighter and tighter. My mouth full of cock, all I could do was scream a muffled "aaaaaargh." There was nothing more I could do, as I couldn't pull in my knees. Nor could I lift my head as I was assaulted by the young man throat fucking me.

She ordered the young man to tell her when he was close. She told him he was at four minutes and he better hurry. He began to quicken his pace. His eyes were closed and I could tell he was imagining the mouth of his favorite actress or a coworker he desired. His cock began moving rapidly in and out of my mouth. I didn't want to help him, because the next time my balls were inside him, it would just take that much longer, so I withheld my tongue. At 4 ½ minutes, she squeezed my balls the hardest and said that if he didn't make it I was going to regret it. Not wanting to know what that meant, I started flicking my tongue on the tip of his cock. Finally he started to tremble, and just before five minutes, I felt the first jet of his sperm in my throat. It was surprisingly large, given how many times the kid had already cum.

I wasn't used to cum so I started to gag. She squeezed my nuts even harder—I gave the muffled groan of a cock filled mouth in response, but I got the message to pretend I was swallowing something desirable, like whipped cream. His orgasming body shuddered and spasmed as he filled my mouth with his seed and he jerked repeatedly in response to my tongue swirling around his head. After four or five spurts and oozing a generous amount of additional semen, his shudders eased and his long slender penis began to soften. He pulled away from my lips and there was an audible slurp. She heard the gulp as I swallowed his seed.

She told me I had done well—and she released my nuts from her vice grip.

Our Mistress grabbed the head of the young man's penis and started to palm it again. She asked if he finally had a satisfying orgasm? He answered "Yes" and then started to groan and cry again as she roughly abused his sensitive head. He started begging her to stop. She simply laughed and asked if he would rather have his testicles in somebody's ass because the tables could certainly be turned. He shouted that he preferred his side of things.

Having had not a single orgasm despite witnessing all the sexual activity of the last half day, I would have gladly shoved a navel orange up my ass if I could just cum. But alas, it didn't seem it was going to be.

We took no break at all. My Mistress produced a wooden spatula that I'm sure she reserved for just such occasions. She looked at the young man and said that it was either for me or him, but he could choose by his actions. Either he struck me hard enough to satisfy her, or he was going to be tied down and she would take care of him.

My bonds had not been loosened, my penis was still grotesquely stretched, my balls were still tied and perched a couple of inches above my legs, and I was almost completely immobile from my ankles to my wrists in her four poster bed. The sheets were now covered with sweat, both his and mine, and semen, only his.

Our Mistress told my torturer she wanted him to make me beg to stop, but he was only going to get ten strikes to make that happen. Failure would mean that tomorrow his balls would be inside me.

The handsome young man decided he would take no chances. His first blow to my balls had me gasping for breath. The next caused me to cry out. Again she told me to shut up unless I was begging him to stop. Blow number three he nearly reached to the ceiling and came down with a thunderous blow. I began to gag. The next four were the same. I was trying to hang in because I wanted to be the one coming, even if it meant the young man's voluminous balls were in my ass. The next two were in rapid succession—whap whap. But still I didn't ask to stop. Tears flowed from my eyes, my stomach felt as if I had been kicked there by a mule, but I hung in like grim death. I watched as his hand reached up, well over his head, wielding the spatula with the spoon end facing back and I told them "OK OK, I can't take another blow. Please stop"

Our Mistress walked over and gently caressed my throbbing balls—she told me I was brave to endure that much and that she might find an opportunity for pity for me.

Then our Mistress ordered the young man on top of me and started counting Mississippi's. He knew what to do. The high bounces. Compared to the spatula though, these were child's play.

I also saw the young man, already having produced three orgasms in just over a half day, begin to develop another full blown erection. Man, to be young again! His long slender member was again pointing to the sky. I too had been hard for most of the last half day, but hadn't unloaded even a drop of cum. This guy had produced about a bucketful, some still on my body, some in my stomach, and some on my Mistress's bed sheets. And he still got it up. And I mean up. Maybe he just enjoyed the ass to balls contact.

She ordered him to reinsert them and I gasped. "Here we go again," I thought. He reached for the bottle of lube, but she told him he didn't have permission to use lube, had not asked permission, and his punishment would be to do it without lube. I wondered who was really being punished. This time he really struggled even to get the right one in. The second, he worked for what seemed like an hour, but I am sure was less than two or three minutes. She announced she would do it herself, reached over and forcefully shoved my left nut inside his rectum. My stomach ached after this was finished.

She produced the spatula. She untied my left hand and handed it to me. She pulled back his long slender penis, pulling his testicles forward and told me I should strike him as many times as I wanted until he asked ME to stop. But if either of my balls came out of his rectum, she said, we would start from the beginning. I knew what this meant—every time I hit him, his anus was going to contract and I would get squeezed. The more I struck him, the more my balls would get squeezed. The quicker I forced him to ask for mercy, the harder they would get squeezed. I decided on the quick solution. I reached back and wailed with the spatula with all the strength I could muster. "Awwww goddddd," he screamed, his anus tightened forcefully, crushing my battered balls, but he did not ask me to stop. A second blow produced the same response. A third, this one probably as hard as I could produce, finally got him to scream "Please stop!"

Our mistress looked behind him and discovered my left ball had leaked out. "Sorry" she said, "back in it goes," and with two fingers she shoved my left testicle back in his anus. Oh it hurt. "We can do this all day if you like." I drew back, looked at him, and said "You better keep them in this time" I came down with all the strength I had on his left testicle—a ball for a ball—and he screamed, "Oh please, stop."

She looked behind him and said that nothing had come out and congratulations. She looked at me and handed me the tube of lube. She told me it wasn't for me, but that I would get to masturbate him to orgasm. She suggested I be quick about it, because if I got the young man off within five minutes, there would be no post orgasm torture, and we would call it a night. She might even remove my balls from his ass.

I told him to imagine his favorite group of supermodels, female coworkers, or friends, think of them jerking him as a group and said "let's get this over with." The problem is he had already produced a massive amount of cum. Did he have any more left? He was still hard, even with the brutal spatula paddling he had received. But I thought he might be dry.