The next morning Erin tied a length of clothesline into a slip knot, looped it around my scrotum and cinched it painfully tight. She left the free end hanging blatantly out of the sweatpants she ordered me to wear. She tugged it forcefully dragging me behind her to the car.
Our first stop was a drive through for coffee and a breakfast sandwich. For her. I got nothing. Next, we headed downtown. She had me park in the lot behind a notorious sex shop. I started to protest, but with an excruciating yank on the clothesline she quickly put a stop to that.
"Listen up, bitch boy. I will only say this once. Keep your fucking mouth shut or you will receive a punishment you will never forget. From this day forward you will only speak if I ask you a question. The first amendment no longer exists for you. We're going inside this store to shop for things I will be using to discipline, punish, humiliate you and imprison you. By the time we have finished here and in a couple of other stores your credit card will be buried in debt. Got it?"
It was a large store replete with seemingly every S&M device I had ever seen in the videos that had been my downfall and many I hadn't. My head swam with a confusing mixture of arousal and terror.
Erin approached a salesperson to help in our search. She was quite tall and wore black leather thigh highs, a black leather mini skirt over the top few inches of seamed lace stockings and a black studded leather bustier. She resembled a fictional character, like she just stepped out of a fetish comic.
"Pardon me, I'm new to this, could you give me some guidance."
The dream Domme looked me over, smiled wickedly, and spoke, "It would be my pleasure, he obviously needs correction."
"You have no idea."
The Domme stepped closer to us sneering disdainfully at me.
"He's been sneaking around online seeing Dommes. He fantasizes about ball torture among other things."
"Mmmm, does he now? Have you been a very bad boy?" She took hold of my chin and lifted, forcing me to look into her eyes.
When I failed to answer immediately Erin yanked the clothesline as hard as she could. I shrieked and the Domme laughed.
"Answer the lady, bitch." Erin barked this at me with a laser glare.
"Uh I guess so."
"We've got several delightful implements you might enjoy punishing his testicles with. Were you thinking pressure, impact. electricity or penetration?"
I couldn't believe my ears. My stomach was roiling, and I thought I might vomit right there on the floor. I pulled against Erin's leash, and she stopped me with another brutal yank.
"Keep trying to pull away and I'll rip the fuckers right off," she hissed.
A Machiavellian laugh escaped the Domme's blood red lips. She led us to a rack of evil looking toys.
"Let's start with pressure. This our nicest crusher. You'll enjoy it because it gives great hands-on fun. He'll hate it because you can adjust it from almost comfortable to excruciating just by turning these thumbscrews. You just slip his worm through this hole, sandwich the balls between the plates and screw it down. We also have and electrified version with a variable control so you can add anything from a mild shock to a really intense one."
"Is that dangerous?" Erin asked, and I was hoping the question was based at least some part on concern for my safety. The thought of her putting that thing on me and shooting electricity through my balls was horrifying.
"If he has an underlying heart condition, I'd skip the electricity. Otherwise go easy with the voltage until you get used to it."
"Good, I'll take one of those."
"Electric?"
"Definitely."
I cringed and pulled away. She yanked the cord, I screamed. The Domme saleslady snickered.