What he had said turned out to be more than true. It wasn't easy to get the kind of time we had on the first day. Some days it was on account of my brother being home. On others it was my cleaning lady. But it wasn't like I got off free either. My first taste of this realization came a couple of days later. As usual we were playing cricket on the terrace. The entire time I was with him, there were all kinds of things running in my mind. Although on one hand, I had somewhat encouraged and possibly even engineered the happenings of the first day, I was also mad about it. I somehow felt let down that he had never really reciprocated in any way. The whole time he tormented me, he had been fully clothed. He had never revealed even the hint of a hard-on through his jeans. All those emotions trickled into the game of cricket. I whacked the ball harder than ever. But twice that day, it landed on a spot that I had not intended. A rubber ball doesn't do much damage but
is enough to cause someone to double up. The second time it hit him in the groin, he muttered something like "You're going to kill me." What he didn't know is that it was a genuine accident.
It soon became a bit dark and we had to head downstairs. The stairs to our home was enclosed by walls. It wasn't the safest place to do anything stupid. For one, it echoed like hell. Secondly it connected to the kitchens of both our homes. Anyone opening the door would not be able to see us if we were at the top. But it wouldn't have taken more than 5 seconds to go up the first flight of stairs to find out whatever was going on.
I had no idea of what was to come. But as I headed through the terrace door, I found his hands hold on to back of my shorts. In one swoop, he had pulled both my shorts and my underwear down half ways to my thighs.
I choked back a yell. It would have definitely sounded alarm bells in both houses. What came out was a hoarse whisper "Are you crazy?" I had turned to look at him. I hadn't bothered to pull up my shorts from behind. In the front, they hadn't come down all that much and although they had already traversed my pubic hair and the base of my penis, my T shirt was covering all of that. I had the bat in one hand and the ball in the other. I had a good mind to plunge the handle into his stomach or worse .. his balls. But to my horror, in one quick move, his right hand got to the front of my shorts and next, that was down too.
"Not here...man." I croaked in disbelief. I tried to avoid his hands that were now trying to raise my T-shirt to reveal what it was covering. I let go of the bat and ball, although I almost died when I heard all racket it made as it rolled down a stair or two. I tried to turn around and avoid what he was trying to get at. But get it, he did. The way it ended was my right cheek against the wall. I had my left had to the wall to stop me from falling down the stairs. He had twisted my right hand behind my back with his left. I could feel his head above my right shoulder. And his right arm had circled around my right hip and his fist was deeply entrenched in my balls and dick. For all the obvious reasons my dick had been shriveled up. But the most obvious reason was the pain in my balls that was so intense, I had forgotten to breathe. Even the "aaah" that came out was a whisper. I was shit scared that we'd be caught.
"I know you hit the ball on purpose" he whispered back.
I was somewhat relieved when his grip gradually began to loosen. But then again, I was wrong. Cause his next target was my foreskin which he seemed to have an obsession with. He peeled it back as if he owned it. But then he pulled it harder inside. Even with a soft dick, there's only so much a foreskin can go. I groaned. He may have been expecting me to get an erection. But I might have disappointed him there.
That only seemed to make him get even more mad. Because he switched from pulling on the foreskin to squeezing my exposed dick. I still had my face to the wall so I had no way of seeing what he was doing. But he seemed to be literally squeezing my pee-slit and that hurt in a way that cannot be described. I could actually feel weird parts of my penis spasm even without getting hard. And no question about the pain. It radiated all the way to the insides of my gut.
He probably did not realize that it was causing me more pain than any sort of gratification. I don't think the fear of being seen and the sweat of the game were of any help either. The pressure of the arm-twist increased if I tried to move and his squeeze upon squeeze continued for a few minutes more. It must have dawned on him too that we were dangerously close to getting caught.
He ended it with a killing grip on my pee-slit. And he asked me if I understood what he had told me. "Yes" I could barely even whisper.
He let go of my dick and hand.
By the time I rolled back my foreskin and pulled up my pants, he had already bounded down and rung the bell at his house. I walked down the stairs still with quite a bit of pain in my balls.
We did not have to wait long before the coast became clear. The following morning, I had just showered and had put on my shorts and T-shirt when I heard the knock on the door. I knew it was him. Heck! I was hoping it was him. I opened the door.
"Anyone there?" He had a sly look.
"No" I said. I did not have to invite him in.
"Get the cup with oil" I knew what he needed that for.
By the time we got to my room, I knew my drill. I had already started unbuttoning my shorts. I unzipped the thing and let it fall. I then removed my T-shirt. I wanted to tease him by leaving my underwear on. Finally just after I wedged my thumbs into the elastic band, I pretended to show some hesitance.
"You can't hit me that hard ok?"
"Yeah, don't worry, there was no blood last time, was there?"
There was nothing more to say, so I bent forward as I pushed my undies down. I picked up the pile at my feet and pushed it aside. I was still embarrassed on getting a hard-on in front of this guy. But my body was rebelling. I had just begun getting a bit hard. Although I wasn't looking down, I was only feeling the weight of my dick by my inner thigh. So it couldn't have been fully erect.
I'd always been curious to know what was going on in Atul's pants. During all the torture before, I was mostly with my back to him. When I looked up, I saw his gaze directed at my groin. So I quickly stole a glance at his pants. My eyes almost popped out. From somewhere around the bottom of his zipper, I could almost clearly see the outline of his dick. But that's not what startled me. I could see it curve towards his right thigh and then it went straight down his inner thigh for at least 7 inches or so. How the hell did his 4 inch flaccid penis get so much of meat to sport anywhere from 8 to 10 inches, I had no idea. Much against my wishes I was already having a raging hard-on.
The look on my face might have given it away. I saw that sly smile on his face.
"Lie down on your back" he said.
I complied. I however let my calves dangle somewhat from the bed. I saw him retrieve something white. It looked like a small cloth pouch which had it mouth tied by a thick string of some sorts. I saw him undo the draw string. He retrieved a small plastic bottle from it. It was around the size of an egg, only it had a flat base and a neck that seemed to be missing a cap. I had never expected Atul to get this crafty. But I had no clue of what he was going to use it for. Clearly it was an odd shape to go down my hole.
But as the bottle and his hands got closer, I figured the intended target to be my balls. The opening was not wide enough for both of them to go in. He held my left one and that seemed to go in ok. But the bottle itself was very shallow, so it hit the bottom almost right away. Atul struggled with my right one. The pain was like someone shoving a pole into my stomach. I saw him use his middle and index fingers pressing down on my right one, wedging it between my left balls and the wall of the bottle. With his other hand he was also trying to collect my scrotum and used it to further push my right ball deeper into the bottle. For a brief moment, the pain peaked to a point that I had shut my eyes tight and stopped breathing. But then I suddenly felt the right ball relieved of that intense pressure, as it adjusted itself into the plastic bottle. I could feel the edge of the bottle's neck at the very base of my dick. Atul then retrieved the cloth pouch and
covered the bottle with it. He pulled the mouth of the bag over even the neck the bottle. Then with a quick move, tightly tugged the drawstring together. The neck of the pouch literally bit into my remaining scrotum. I clenched my teach and for a moment I panicked about my balls losing circulation. But the pain slowly ebbed away.
Two things were a foregone conclusion. The only purpose of the ball cage he had invented, was to inflict the worst ever whipping on my hole and dick. The second one was, I would not be escaping from having to cum.
In the brief time when he was kneading my balls, it was the first time, I'd had such a fabulous view of his monstrous dick. Even though it was just an outline. It did however make me feel a bit mad. For one, I got the sense that he might have been rolling with laughter after having seen the size of my pitiful dick. But more than that, it was pretty much the first time in his life that he was getting a "one up" on me. I'd always beaten him at almost every game there was. But today, he'd be the one to critique the way my pee-slit would part and reveal it's first drop of pre-cum. He would compare notes on how many squirts my penis could manage, as my dick convulsed during ejaculation and the size of my cum pool that would result. He would be able to see the color of my cum...the whiter, thicker strands of my semen suspended and splattered within the thinner, colorless prostatic precum. Heck, he would even know the smell of my cum. He was privy to each and every
detail and I would have nothing with me. The disparity was depressing. But all that depression had turned into anxiety as he kneaded my balls followed by that burning tug on my scrotum with the drawstring.
He rolled me over on my stomach. My dick was way too hard, so I had let it be this time and it rested pointing to my left almost poking out from under my left thigh. But Atul wouldn't have it. Before I could react, his right hand was savagely pulling my very hard dick in between my legs that had now been spread-eagled. It wasn't hurting all that much. It just made it distinctly uncomfortable. The pressure at the base of my dick made me somewhat lift my hips a bit.
My head was turned to my right. I was expecting him to grab my shorts and remove the belt from it, but no such thing happened. So I turned it to my left, and was just in time to see him pulling something that was red and wiggly from his left pocket.
In the brief second before he got it out of my sight, I knew enough about it to know that it was not a wire. It was way to wiggly for that. Neither was it a live thing like a worm or anything. Then I saw what it was, because he held it between his hands, clasping either side with his thumbs and index fingers. At first I thought it was a fairly thick string. But when he began to stretch his hands apart, there was no mistaking about what it was. It was a broken rubber band. I shivered. He had figured out a way, a million times worse than whipping. There was only one thing a broken rubber band could be used for. You held one end with your left hand. The other end you pulled with your right hand. You set precise aim with your left thumb while you released the grip on your right. The loose end would deliver a whip lash that would make belting pale in comparison.
"Hey please Atul...hey come on man...pleeeea"
Before I could finish, he had delivered the first zing to my right bottom. "aaahhhhh" I moaned.
"If you move even 1/2 an inch.... I'll make your dick suffer"
I froze.
"Part your hole. Quick".
My hands were shaking, but I managed holding my ass cheeks apart.
"Closer"
I wiggled my hands closer to my hole and stretched it somewhat. I was not looking forward to this.
"Dig your middle fingers into your hole". "FAST"
My middle fingers were literally on my hole now. As I parted the hole, I could feel the cold air from outside penetrating the tip of my sphincter.
"If you let your fingers slip, your dick will forget how to pee today"
This brought on memories of Day 1 where he had forced me to piss in his full view. More humiliation.
The second zing hit a few millimeters from where it had hit before. I flinched a bit. His left thumb was too close to my bum and I had no real way of telling where the next zing would hit.
He hit me a few more times on both my left and right ass cheeks carefully avoiding my hands that were stretching my hole. But each time, I could see that he was extending his right hand even more and the zings stung worse with each successive stroke.
That was his idea of practice. When he extended his hand for the eleventh time, I yelled. "Wait! you can only do 10 in one day"
"That was belting, not this. And you moved"
I had moved hardly a bit. My middle fingers were still stretching my hole. "Aawwwwwwwwwwwww" The damn zing had actually entered my sphincter and hit me deep inside my hole. And worse it had got stuck. I actually felt Atul tugging it out of my hole.
Hell had broken lose. I had let go of my hole and I was madly massaging the hole using my ass cheeks.
Without warning. I felt a whopping sting on my peeslit.
My hips must have flown a good half a foot off the bed. I was in a pathetic state of affairs. My middle finger on my left hand was desperately seeking the spot inside my anus where the zing had hit it. My right hand was clasping the head of my dick, and my thumb and index were tightly holding my foreskin over the left edge of my pee slit where the second zing had struck.
"Awwwwww" I kept groaning. What I could not comprehend was why my dick continued to stay hard.
"It'll only get worse. Get back to where you were."
It took me a few seconds to do that. Including shoving my dick between my legs and forcing my tortured anal sphincter open.
He did not seem to miss a thing. With his right hand, he peeled back a bit of my foreskin to reveal some of my glans and most importantly my peeslit. I could actually feel the cool air soothing my tip.
"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh". That was the second shot at my penis. This one wedged itself between the lips of my peeslit. I controlled the urge to move, only allowing myself to shudder and take short breaths.
"Awwwwwwwwww" Another one, pretty much the same place.
"aaaaahhhhhhh" This one was to my hole, but the inside left.
Each stroke was precise. I could make a mental map of each zing. I could mentally see pictures of boils sprouting out.
"aahhhhhhhhhh" This one was different spot....the bridge between the penis and the foreskin.
"Awwwwwwwww" He seemed to be finding new spots...it was below my hole at the place where the scrotum joins.
He also hit exposed regions of my bum, but that hurt nothing compared to the other places.
Then there was a pause. I was too preoccupied with the million nerves tearing out in pain. By the time I began to look, he had finished doing whatever it was he had stopped to do.
I began to sense the welcome feeling of oil dripping into my hole followed by the unwelcome sensation of something hard trying to push itself in.
Was my anus swollen or was it something else. It was pushing way to hard on my hole and my hole was refusing to budge. I tried looking behind. But my gaze fell on something very unsettling. My candle! It was right by the window where I had cleaned and placed it on day 1.
So what the heck was this? It didn't take me long to find out. Atul had paused to smear whatever it was with more oil. He had also gone to retrieve my candle. That's when I saw it. It was another candle, but it was just way too big. And Atul had gone start raving mad. He had actually carved it in the shape of a phallus, only this one was around 2 inches in diameter. I groaned.
He wasted little time. He put copious amounts of oil on my candle and began to probe it into my ass hole. I moaned as he twisted and turned the candle in his attempts to coat the insides of my colon with A LOT OF OIL. He penetrated the candle several times until it slid smoothly in and out of my sphincter.
Then came his candle. My hole was absolutely unprepared. But Atul was relentless. He pushed harder and harder. I almost started sliding upwards on the bed. I was beginning to feel like going to the loo. I tried to push it away, like I would when I had constipation. But wait, I could actually feel it going it, tearing apart my sphincter in the process.
I had lost count of the seconds I had forgotten to breathe. The sensation of the candle's dick head plunging into my colon made me exhale all my breath in the form of a scream "aaaahhhhhhhhhggg"
Atul cared less. Each millimeter of the candle was like someone grating sandpaper on the linings of my sphincter. My sphincter was cramping like the worst diarrhea I've ever had.
It felt like years before the candle was in. When Atul backed off a bit, one more mystery was solved. The huge hard on he had had was replaced by something a bit smaller. This one seemed much more reasonable than the one I was lent to believe earlier. I was in much pain to gloat on this fact.
Atul was in no mood for stopping. My own hard-on was bothering me quite a bit. The pressure at the base of my dick was now beginning to hurt a little. And just when I tried to adjust my dick, I felt him peeling my foreskin all the way. My glans must have been bruised. My own sweat was beginning to sting me at various points on my glans and foreskin. He then did something strange. He rolled back the foreskin over the glans, albeit with some difficulty, since it had firmly tightened around the base of my dick head.
I could feel the firm up-and-down motions of my foreskin over my glans. I was being masturbated. He retrieved a small plate that I had put the cup of oil on. He placed my penis on it. The damn plate was made of metal and had a circular wall around ½ an inch around. It was biting into the trunk of my dick. I was already marching towards the peak in terms of a massive orgasm.
He seemed to squeeze my peeslit with my foreskin. I could feel the moist cooling effect of my first drops of precum that he squeezed out of my cock. Once he was convinced nothing more would come, he would go back to longer strokes.
I was busy focusing all my energies in getting to the point of ejaculation. The only pain I now felt was the throbbing pain at my sphincter, but it wasn't high enough to ruin the orgasm.
For some reason, it didn't seem I was getting there. I felt Atul do more squeezes to my peeslit whenever precum trickled out of it.. I could feel streams of it going through.
Ejaculation sometimes can be tricky especially if the external stroking and the internal build up to the orgasm are out of synch. Even before I would get half way to my peak, Atul would suddenly change his stroking .. sometimes going back to squeezing my peeslit. To make things worse, the plate was really biting into my skin of my penis. The first drops of cum went almost unnoticed for me. I only knew because Atul's hand suddenly jerked. May be he was anticipating a spray of cum. But then he went on to using much more force to squeeze out the drops of cum. I could feel the distinct difference between precum and the thicker drops of my semen.
All this actually seemed to work more in favor of my orgasm. I reached a peak that I had never ever experienced before. I could feel everything from my hips to distinct areas of my scrotum and dick spasm. The first wave was the largest. Atul had sensed it cause he had pressed my dick firmly against the plate. I wasn't counting the waves that followed, but they were many, each successively decreasing in intensity from the previous.
I was totally wiped out. I did not mind him squeezing drop after drop of my cum from my dick. Our individual objectives had been met.
Or were they? Atul took for ever to squeeze every drop out and he carefully replaced the plate on the window sill. I couldn't imagine why he didn't allow me to cum onto a towel or something.
My dick had started shriveling. Atul then tugged at the candle that was deeply embedded inside my gut. My dick was real sore and my sphincter was doing it's very best to clamp down even more onto the candle. As the disk-head approached the sphincter, I moaned "awwwwwwwww". Atul was pretty merciless in the way he practically plopped it out of my anus.
Then he asked me to go on all fours on the bed. Even as I began wondering what he was up to next, the plate with spurts of my semen was retrieved and placed in close proximity of my dick.
He then proceeded to masturbate me for a second time. I pleaded "Awwww please Atul, you've already screwed me once."
He seemed to ignore me entirely. My glans felt raw and was highly sensitive. Every stroke seemed to hurt to the very core of my penis. But what astounded me was that my erection was gradually turning on.
His stroking became even more erratic. I was trying to distract myself. I glanced at the plate under me. For the first time, I was seeing my cum, as Atul had first seen it. The quantity of cum had been average. I could see blobs of cum on the rim of the plate where Atul had squeezed my dick for extracting each drop. I did have moderate amount of precum mixed in it.
I was thinking of all the things I could to keep myself from feeling the pain on my glans and balls. The first ejaculation had been under 15 to 20 seconds. This one was going well beyond 10 minutes. I was groaning. But I could feel the orgasm slowly beginning to build. As it did I began to lower my waste. It was like a trigger for Atul. His frenzy kept going up. Finally, my I felt my butt spasm, Atul firmly held my penis over the plate. I saw a couple of streams of cum spraying onto the plate. I could only wait for him to squeeze me of every drop again. It took for ever. I tried to lift my butt somewhat and my dick slipped from Atul's hand. A drop of cum ended up on his thumb.
He carefully stowed away the plate. I had no idea what hit me. The zing had caught me right at the center of my anus. "ahhhhhhhhhh" As I began to lift my hands to cover my hole.
"If you move...."
He did not have to finish the sentence.
I earned more than 20 or 25 zings over my anus. Although I wasn't stretching my anus, quite a few found themselves deep inside my hole. My hole must have been widened by the candle. The ones that hurt most were the zings that touched the inside walls.
That afternoon, Atul had a third go at me. I was barely able to produce one stream. It came out more like a very stringy blob. A couple of drops followed perhaps.
For the first time in almost 2 hours, I turned over on my back. My dick was so shriveled, it was less than an inch in length now.
After giving me around 3 or 4 minutes, Atul handed me the candles. He asked me to wash them clean, which I did.
When I returned, I headed to retrieve my shorts.
"What the hell are you thinking." He pushed me onto the bed and asked me to go on all fours again.
My first few zings was to my anus. Then he aimed some from under my legs and targeted the tip of my foreskin. I could not help allowing tears to flow down my eyes.
Atul was relentless, both on my penis and my anal ring.
Then he put the plate under my mouth. I resisted and was immediately rewarded. The zings were to the bridge between my scrotum and anus. My anus got the brunt of all the zings, followed by my glans and pee-slit.
I used both my hands to tilt the cum. It pooled at the edge and I lifted the plate and sucked it up. Up until now, I had never tasted my own cum. The slime was somewhat the consistency of raw eggs, but on the saltier side. I could also smell a bit of my own urine. If all that was not enough to humiliate me, he asked me to lick the plate clean.
Finally he untied the draw string and pulled the cloth pouch off the plastic bottle that had enclosed my balls all this time. He wasn't planning on doing this gingerly. He yanked the bottled down. "awhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hhhh" Both my balls were competing to get out through the narrow neck. Atul then caught hold of my scrotum and pulled one of them out. It hurt like hell but was better than squeezing both of them together. The second one came out quite easily.
Only after that did he throw the shorts at my face. Day 2 had just concluded. Atul had not only masturbated me, but he had done it till I had gotten dry ejaculations. He had made me wipe off my own bits of shit from the candles. And then on top of that he had made me drink my very own cum. It was close to 4 O'Clock. I managed to pull on my underwear and shorts and the rest of it. I cleared up all the stuff that was lying around and I crashed. I did not hear him leave my house. I was too exhausted and hoped that Day 3 would come many weeks later. But I was wrong.
... To be continued ...