Criston and Louis are back for a third session, a brutal interrogation! Criston attempts to withhold the code to a lockbox containing a very humiliating prize, but can he withstand Louis' torturous methods?
Part Two: https://www.ticklingforum.com/threads/im-still-straight-right-part-two-m-m.444374/
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Take your position on the bench, slave”, Louis commanded him.
Criston obeyed immediately, albeit nervously. The bench was a traditional design; four flat black limbs, with a larger central piece for his torso. Perfect for spanking, but Criston suspected it would be all too capable of rendering him helpless to tickling as well. The sub climbed onto the bench and knelt, laying his arms out and pressing his chest into the cool padding. He was stripped down to just his boxers, the bulge already forming before he’d been touched once. He remained crouched and tense on the spanking bench as Louis casually walked up next to him, a special bondage belt curled up in his hands.
“If you thought our previous sessions were intense then you’re really going to suffer this time”, Louis gleefully threatened. The Dom wrapped the leather belt around Criston’s right arm and cinched it off, tightly binding him to the bench. He followed suite with Criston’s other limbs, strapping him down securely. An extra thick strap folded over his back, forcing him to arch his chest down into the bench whilst pushing out his butt. Criston tested out the belt restraints and found he had a decent amount of wiggle room back and forth, but unlike the bed bondage or the cross they’d used before he had no control over the shape his body was in this time. He had no choice but to maintain this position and let Louis touch him wherever he pleased.
“So, are you going to make things easy and give me the code, or do I have to make you tell me?”, Louis asked him with a tone of dominance. Criston turned his head to look at the long table by the door. On it sat a small old metal box, secured with a stalwart looking (but truthfully quite cheap) padlock. Criston had set the 4-digit combination just before they started, giving Louis the task of prying said combination out of his vulnerable sub by any means necessary. “Do your worst”, Criston shot back sheepishly, “I’m not giving up the code ever”. Louis chuckled a little before locking back into character. “I really hoped you’d say that. But trust me, you will crack before we’re done here. And the special prize inside will be mine”, Louis challenged him. The mid-thirties man had a light and non-threatening voice, and although good looking he appeared mild mannered; the type of guy you would see four or five of in any typical office. But inside this homemade dungeon he was an intimidating master, with full power over Criston’s pain and pleasure.
A hand groped his butt suddenly, causing Criston to jump. Louis smiled and ran his hand all over the helpless butt cheek. Although Criston wouldn’t like to admit it, he loved the feeling of being touched without being asked, as if he were Louis’ property to be used at will. Louis ran a fingernail down the crack of Criston’s butt, ruffling his cotton boxers. The nail traced along, passing across his taint, until it reached the edge of his ball sack. “Your balls are nice and trapped for me, maybe I’ll slip a finger inside these boxers and start there”, Louis taunted, making Criston shiver slightly. His other hand laid out a quick flurry of tickles on the Sub’s foot before retreating, eliciting a stifled giggle. “Or maybe I’ll start down there with your feet. Either way, it’s not going to be fun for you, although you will be laughing”.
“Or… what if I started right here”, Louis exclaimed, his devilish fingers descending on Criston’s ribs. The Sub let out a startled yelp as the prying digits pressed in between his ribs. Thankfully the chest-down position restricted access to the most sensitive parts, but Louis’s assault was still effective enough to make Criston laugh and jerk his belted body as much as possible. “AHH-HAA-HAAAA…. NOOO... STOOHHPPP ITTT”, Criston begged instinctually. “You have the power to stop it whenever you want, just give me the code. But I’d be disappointed if you gave up this quickly”, Louis chided him. Criston continued to laugh and twist in his bonds but said nothing. Louis doubled down, using his knuckles to torment Criston’s sides with increased power. The overwhelmed sub tugged even harder on the unyielding leather restraints, silently cursing his captor.
“SIX”, Criston yelled out suddenly. Louis withdrew, bending down to look Criston in the eyes. His gaze was fierce and controlling, making Criston feel rather meek and powerless. “So that’s the first digit, huh?”, Louis announced proudly. “What about the other three?”. Criston closed his eyes and bit his tongue, ashamed that he’d almost given away the code after just a few minutes of interrogation. “Acting tough again, are we? No bother. I’m sure I could pull it out of you very quickly if I went back to your ribs. But there’s no rush; you can’t go anywhere, and I’ve the entire rest of your body to play with”, Louis declared.
A whirlwind of nails attacked his armpits without warning. Criston broke back into laughter as they whisked and weaved around with vigour. With his arms bent at a 90-degree angle on the bench, he had absolutely no room to struggle as Louis toyed with his vulnerable pits. One hand lightly clawed all along the skin, whilst the other softly played with his sparse armpit hair. Criston squirmed, his chuckles interspersed with the occasional “STOPPP” or “NOOO”. However, secretly his armpits were his favourite spot to be tickled; though they were sensitive, the sensation was more pleasurable than torturous, and he could feel his cock rise more when they were targeted. “I can tickle your little pitties as long as I want, slave. Confess or I’ll stay here all day”, Louis offered him. “YOUUU CAA-NNTT MAAKE MEEE GIIIVEE INNN”, rebelled Criston.
“Oh, I can, and I will. With each little swipe and scratch, you get weaker and weaker. I’ll have you screaming out the code; anything to get me to leave you alone”, Louis prophesised with glee. His fingers ploughed the soft hollows with ruthless efficiency, driving Criston’s squeals up a few decibels. No amount of wriggling around on the bench was able to dissuade the devilish fingers from torturing his upper body. Embarrassingly, Criston could feel his semi-hard cock poking into the bench. Continuing to struggle hopelessly and laugh endlessly, the bound Sub found himself compelled to give up the combination. Even the pleasurable armpit tickling was beginning to wear him down, God forbid the teasing hands wander back over to his ribs. ‘No’, Criston thought to himself, ‘I know what’s in that first box. If I let him open it, I’ll really be at his mercy’.
“I won’t tell you anything, no matter what you do to me”, Criston shot back defiantly as his intimidating Dom took a brief break to flex his fingers. Louis chuckled at his boldness, but his amused grin displayed a lack of faith in his sub’s resolve. “You say that now, but you have no idea just how cruel I can be”, Louis threatened ominously. The Dom disappeared behind Criston, out of view. The bound young man braced himself for an assault on his belted-down feet. However, he was caught by surprise when the elastic waistband of his boxers was pulled back, a light breeze wafting over his genitals. Criston moaned slightly as the front of his underwear was pulled tight against him, forcing his growing cock to rub against his stomach. “Now I’ve got access to your bare butt… and I’m going to enjoy it”, Louis taunted.
A lone finger trailed faintly up and down his inner butt cheek. In his bent over position, Criston had no choice except to moderately spread his ass open, leaving Louis free access to the entire region. The finger teased around his inner crack in a circle, inching closer to his hole with each successive loop. Criston giggled nervously; the tickling sensations were minor, but with Louis touching nearer and nearer his asshole he felt more exposed than ever. “What do we have here, a slutty little ass!”, Louis proclaimed loudly. “How does it feel being tickled right next to your hole? I could shove a finger inside you right now if I wanted to. Believe me, I’ve done it to many horny guys, and it drove them all wild. You though… judging by your already leaking cock, this tickling and humiliation turns you on more than my penetration ever could. What a kinky freak you are”, Louis accused him. Blushing with fiery cheeks, Criston stayed silent. “Still no code…?”, Louis asked sarcastically, but Criston didn’t utter anything but laughter.
“You know what? I might just shove a lubed dildo right up your straight little ass”, Louis declared fearsomely. Criston shook suddenly in his bonds, but his interrogator merely sneered. “Oh yeah, you’ll whine and plead for me not to, but once I start stretching out that tight hole of yours, I know you’d thrust back into it like the pathetic ***** you are”. Louis continued to berate Criston as he ramped up the butt tickling, clawing right along the rim of his cheeks and making the Sub squirm. “You love being my bitch, don’t you? Claiming online that you purely want tickling, nothing sexual. Yet as soon as my hands are on you, you’re stiff as a board”. Criston bit down on his lip as he giggled, his stomach in knots with each humiliating statement that he knew was true.
“It must’ve been so embarrassing for you when you felt your cock rising in our first session. Oh god, am I really getting hard in front of a gay guy?”, he recited in a mocking tone. “Within an hour you were begging for said gay guy to jerk you off too. Please sir, oh please let me cum, I’m just an innocent straight guy turned on by tickles. Please touch my pervert dick and let me spurt my load”, Louis reeled off, brutally demeaning Criston. “Not to mention how much your eyes lit up when I showed you this dungeon. You couldn’t wait to get strapped down and used. You probably masturbate at night thinking about this. I bet you fantasize about all the different positions I can tie you up in, touching yourself as you imagine me buckling you into the cuffs and tickling all over your helpless body. I bet you cum thinking about the feeling of my nails teasing your armpits and feet, whilst you laugh and struggle at my mercy”.
“Fuuuccckkk yooouuuu”, Criston retaliated suddenly. The words came out almost unconsciously, and far sharper and less playful than Criston had intended them. He jumped at the feeling of the elastic waistband snapping back as Louis let go and withdrew from his butt. The Dom strode imposingly back into Criston’s view. The nervous sub tried to look away, but Louis gripped his chin roughly and yanked his head up until their eyes met. Tension ramped up inside him as he met the piercing glare of his upset captor, brown eyes burning into him like blowtorches. The chilling silence made him almost nostalgic for the sound of steady laughter.
“Fuck me? After how kind I’ve been to you, after how easy I’ve taken it on you?”, the Dom rattled off furiously. Although Criston knew Louis was just playing the part of a commanding interrogator and was really rather nice otherwise, his words had a thick venom that sold his performance completely. “You’re in big trouble now slave! I wanted to pry the combination out carefully and tactically. But now… my mercy is over, and you will crumble soon indeed”. Louis stormed over to the tool table with clear purpose. He picked up a black cloth bag and undid the drawstrings. He upended it, allowing bundles of rope to tumble to the floor. Louis left them there, returning to Criston with just the bag in hand. Before Criston could move away, Louis pulled the bag over his tied sub’s head and tightened the drawstrings. It wasn’t airtight by any means, but the bag was securely fixed over his head. Light glinted through the material, but was too thick for Criston to see anything around him.
“Maybe you agreed to this thinking your experience in being a deviant weirdo would help you resist the torture. I’m afraid I’ve got bad news for you… the tickling part is over. It’s time for a serious technique”, Louis revealed sadistically. Criston breath grew shallow instantly, his blinded eyes opening wide. Not tickling? But that’s what we do. What is he going to do to me, he could do anything. Criston considered clicking out his safety signal, but decided to wait. Surely, it’s a bluff. Or maybe… he won’t actually use a dildo on me, will he? That would be too far without asking me outright, surely. If he does, I’m clicking for sure. These thoughts raced through Criston’s mind, panic overtaking him as if he were in a real interrogation. He could hear Louis walking around; his steps were slow and deliberate, as if he were letting Criston bubble with anxiety on purpose.
“I’m sure lots of ideas are racing around your brain right now. What is this scary man going to do?”, Louis remarked slyly. “I’ll give you a hint. I’m going to use that bench you’re strapped to for its actual purpose this time”. Criston immediately began to writhe around in protest. The frantic sub had never been spanked before, but pain was something he’d never felt particularly drawn too. As Louis insinuated, the bench was forcing Criston into a prime position to receive a harsh spanking. No amount of panicked wiggling would protect his vulnerable cheeks from the hail of punishment they were about to endure. “Remember slave, you brought this on yourself”, Louis announced.
Something flat and firm struck Criston’s ass cheek suddenly, sending a ripple of painful energy through him. The sub cried out in shock, reeling from the unexpected blow. A second strike landed on his other cheek, prompting another yelp. “Do you like my leather paddle? Be thankful I’m not using the spiked side”, Louis said, as if he were being generous. The third blow was much harder, creating a whoosh sound in the air as it made contact. Criston whined through gritted teeth; as he imagined, he was quickly finding the painful paddling much more overwhelming than the tickling, which he at least had some experience with. Each strike hurt more than the last, the pain of impact amplified by the terrible burning sensation left behind from the previous blows.
“AAAAGHHHHH”, the spanking victim yelled out in agony. “What’s wrong, not so cocky anymore?”, Louis taunted him. “I’m barely even hitting you, you’re such a big baby”. Criston felt like an unruly child being disciplined by an overly strict parent. Although Criston often pleaded for a break from the tickling or mercy on certain weak spots, there was always an inner erotic thrill to the sensation that made him enjoy it deep down. In contrast, each brutal swat from the paddle made Criston feel less like a willing submissive and more like a reluctant captive. Pain play wasn’t something that interested him that much; his love for tickling stemmed from its ability to allow the dominant to punish you without inflicting physical pain. Every resounding smack on his ass made him want it to end right there, without the underlying “but not really” that he felt during tickling.
“Please stop hurting me! Leave my ass alone”, Criston implored his captor. Louis replied with another hard paddling, making his sub grunt in frustrated anguish. “You don’t get to dictate what I do slave. It’s an interrogation you’re supposed to suffer”, Louis outlined ruthlessly. “And I’m going to beat your ass bloody unless you give me the code”. Tears welled up in Criston’s eyes from the relentless stinging that reignited with every strike. He guessed that each butt cheek must’ve endured a dozen smacks each by now. He tugged at the bondage belts, anger flaming up inside him.
“Fucking stop spanking me! I hate it, I can’t take it”, Criston growled, becoming less willing to play the submissive role. “Then give me the code, or I’ll never stop”, Louis demanded. His voice was steely and unfazed by Criston’s outburst, but his prompting about the code indicated that he was giving Criston an open exit to the session if he were too unhappy, which cooled the frustrated sub’s rage a little. He bit his tongue and held out, spite driving him to withhold victory from his torturer. Criston heard the Dom put down the paddle, before unexpectedly pulling down Criston’s boxers until they were bunched up around his folded knees. His dick now hung free, however the paddling had it drained it back to soft.
“Your ass is bright red, just like it deserves to be!”, Louis proclaimed. “Hell, it might even bruise after the pounding I’ve given you so far”. Without warning, Louis slapped Criston’s butt with an open palm. The sound echoed in the dungeon, his cheek slightly jiggling on contact. Louis followed up with a series of rapid spanks, one after another. The hand smacks hurt way less than the paddle, but the quick succession of them caused the sharp pain to spike faster. “Who’s a naughty slave? You are!”, Louis cooed childishly. Criston’s breath grew shaky as he focused on managing the pain, but the unyielding ass slaps were proving too much for his tolerance. The entire session was shifting from kinky BDSM to outright displeasure in his mind. His resolve crumbling, he decided to bite the bullet and accept the punishment locked away in the box.
“SIX EIGHT THREE ONE”, Criston screeched out in defeat. Louis stepped away immediately, leaving his sub’s thoroughly battered ass to ache. “I knew I’d crack you!”, Louis trumpeted with glee. He rushed over to the lockbox and inputted the code whilst Criston remained bound on the bench, dreading what was inside the box. The padlock sprung open with a click, and the old metal box creaked as Louis claimed his prize. The Dom smugly swaggered back to the bench. The belts bound to his legs began to loosen as Louis untied him from the bench. Once his arms were freed, Criston shakily stood up. “Stand up straight, hands behind your back”, Louis ordered him. His anger from the session quickly dissipating, Criston hesitantly obeyed.
Louis crouched down; his prize clutched in his hands. Criston shuddered as Louis took hold of his scrotum. A smooth plastic ring slid over the top of his dick. One by one his balls were tucked through the bottom of the ring; his entire genitals were encircled by the contraption. A tube was fitted over his cock now, fully encasing it. The tube and ring fit together neatly. Louis fiddled with a tiny golden key, slipping it into a tiny lock where the ring and tube combined. With one turn of the lock, the chastity cage fixed together securely. The cage pressed against the skin around his balls firmly, and the tube was small enough that he could constantly feel how ensnared and trapped his cock now was.
Criston felt very uneasy; of course, he had consented to the idea and could shut it down if he absolutely needed to. But even though his horny curiosity drove him to allow the idea of chastity when Louis suggested, now that he was actually locked up the idea of walking around day to day with a locked-up cock unnerved him a little. It would certainly prove a challenge. Louis on the other hand was smiling ear to ear. “Look at you! You really are my slave boy now, as if there were any doubt”, Louis decreed triumphantly. “Until our next session, that dick of yours is my property. And if you want me to unlock you any time soon, you’d better be really nice to your master…”.
Part Two: https://www.ticklingforum.com/threads/im-still-straight-right-part-two-m-m.444374/
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Take your position on the bench, slave”, Louis commanded him.
Criston obeyed immediately, albeit nervously. The bench was a traditional design; four flat black limbs, with a larger central piece for his torso. Perfect for spanking, but Criston suspected it would be all too capable of rendering him helpless to tickling as well. The sub climbed onto the bench and knelt, laying his arms out and pressing his chest into the cool padding. He was stripped down to just his boxers, the bulge already forming before he’d been touched once. He remained crouched and tense on the spanking bench as Louis casually walked up next to him, a special bondage belt curled up in his hands.
“If you thought our previous sessions were intense then you’re really going to suffer this time”, Louis gleefully threatened. The Dom wrapped the leather belt around Criston’s right arm and cinched it off, tightly binding him to the bench. He followed suite with Criston’s other limbs, strapping him down securely. An extra thick strap folded over his back, forcing him to arch his chest down into the bench whilst pushing out his butt. Criston tested out the belt restraints and found he had a decent amount of wiggle room back and forth, but unlike the bed bondage or the cross they’d used before he had no control over the shape his body was in this time. He had no choice but to maintain this position and let Louis touch him wherever he pleased.
“So, are you going to make things easy and give me the code, or do I have to make you tell me?”, Louis asked him with a tone of dominance. Criston turned his head to look at the long table by the door. On it sat a small old metal box, secured with a stalwart looking (but truthfully quite cheap) padlock. Criston had set the 4-digit combination just before they started, giving Louis the task of prying said combination out of his vulnerable sub by any means necessary. “Do your worst”, Criston shot back sheepishly, “I’m not giving up the code ever”. Louis chuckled a little before locking back into character. “I really hoped you’d say that. But trust me, you will crack before we’re done here. And the special prize inside will be mine”, Louis challenged him. The mid-thirties man had a light and non-threatening voice, and although good looking he appeared mild mannered; the type of guy you would see four or five of in any typical office. But inside this homemade dungeon he was an intimidating master, with full power over Criston’s pain and pleasure.
A hand groped his butt suddenly, causing Criston to jump. Louis smiled and ran his hand all over the helpless butt cheek. Although Criston wouldn’t like to admit it, he loved the feeling of being touched without being asked, as if he were Louis’ property to be used at will. Louis ran a fingernail down the crack of Criston’s butt, ruffling his cotton boxers. The nail traced along, passing across his taint, until it reached the edge of his ball sack. “Your balls are nice and trapped for me, maybe I’ll slip a finger inside these boxers and start there”, Louis taunted, making Criston shiver slightly. His other hand laid out a quick flurry of tickles on the Sub’s foot before retreating, eliciting a stifled giggle. “Or maybe I’ll start down there with your feet. Either way, it’s not going to be fun for you, although you will be laughing”.
“Or… what if I started right here”, Louis exclaimed, his devilish fingers descending on Criston’s ribs. The Sub let out a startled yelp as the prying digits pressed in between his ribs. Thankfully the chest-down position restricted access to the most sensitive parts, but Louis’s assault was still effective enough to make Criston laugh and jerk his belted body as much as possible. “AHH-HAA-HAAAA…. NOOO... STOOHHPPP ITTT”, Criston begged instinctually. “You have the power to stop it whenever you want, just give me the code. But I’d be disappointed if you gave up this quickly”, Louis chided him. Criston continued to laugh and twist in his bonds but said nothing. Louis doubled down, using his knuckles to torment Criston’s sides with increased power. The overwhelmed sub tugged even harder on the unyielding leather restraints, silently cursing his captor.
“SIX”, Criston yelled out suddenly. Louis withdrew, bending down to look Criston in the eyes. His gaze was fierce and controlling, making Criston feel rather meek and powerless. “So that’s the first digit, huh?”, Louis announced proudly. “What about the other three?”. Criston closed his eyes and bit his tongue, ashamed that he’d almost given away the code after just a few minutes of interrogation. “Acting tough again, are we? No bother. I’m sure I could pull it out of you very quickly if I went back to your ribs. But there’s no rush; you can’t go anywhere, and I’ve the entire rest of your body to play with”, Louis declared.
A whirlwind of nails attacked his armpits without warning. Criston broke back into laughter as they whisked and weaved around with vigour. With his arms bent at a 90-degree angle on the bench, he had absolutely no room to struggle as Louis toyed with his vulnerable pits. One hand lightly clawed all along the skin, whilst the other softly played with his sparse armpit hair. Criston squirmed, his chuckles interspersed with the occasional “STOPPP” or “NOOO”. However, secretly his armpits were his favourite spot to be tickled; though they were sensitive, the sensation was more pleasurable than torturous, and he could feel his cock rise more when they were targeted. “I can tickle your little pitties as long as I want, slave. Confess or I’ll stay here all day”, Louis offered him. “YOUUU CAA-NNTT MAAKE MEEE GIIIVEE INNN”, rebelled Criston.
“Oh, I can, and I will. With each little swipe and scratch, you get weaker and weaker. I’ll have you screaming out the code; anything to get me to leave you alone”, Louis prophesised with glee. His fingers ploughed the soft hollows with ruthless efficiency, driving Criston’s squeals up a few decibels. No amount of wriggling around on the bench was able to dissuade the devilish fingers from torturing his upper body. Embarrassingly, Criston could feel his semi-hard cock poking into the bench. Continuing to struggle hopelessly and laugh endlessly, the bound Sub found himself compelled to give up the combination. Even the pleasurable armpit tickling was beginning to wear him down, God forbid the teasing hands wander back over to his ribs. ‘No’, Criston thought to himself, ‘I know what’s in that first box. If I let him open it, I’ll really be at his mercy’.
“I won’t tell you anything, no matter what you do to me”, Criston shot back defiantly as his intimidating Dom took a brief break to flex his fingers. Louis chuckled at his boldness, but his amused grin displayed a lack of faith in his sub’s resolve. “You say that now, but you have no idea just how cruel I can be”, Louis threatened ominously. The Dom disappeared behind Criston, out of view. The bound young man braced himself for an assault on his belted-down feet. However, he was caught by surprise when the elastic waistband of his boxers was pulled back, a light breeze wafting over his genitals. Criston moaned slightly as the front of his underwear was pulled tight against him, forcing his growing cock to rub against his stomach. “Now I’ve got access to your bare butt… and I’m going to enjoy it”, Louis taunted.
A lone finger trailed faintly up and down his inner butt cheek. In his bent over position, Criston had no choice except to moderately spread his ass open, leaving Louis free access to the entire region. The finger teased around his inner crack in a circle, inching closer to his hole with each successive loop. Criston giggled nervously; the tickling sensations were minor, but with Louis touching nearer and nearer his asshole he felt more exposed than ever. “What do we have here, a slutty little ass!”, Louis proclaimed loudly. “How does it feel being tickled right next to your hole? I could shove a finger inside you right now if I wanted to. Believe me, I’ve done it to many horny guys, and it drove them all wild. You though… judging by your already leaking cock, this tickling and humiliation turns you on more than my penetration ever could. What a kinky freak you are”, Louis accused him. Blushing with fiery cheeks, Criston stayed silent. “Still no code…?”, Louis asked sarcastically, but Criston didn’t utter anything but laughter.
“You know what? I might just shove a lubed dildo right up your straight little ass”, Louis declared fearsomely. Criston shook suddenly in his bonds, but his interrogator merely sneered. “Oh yeah, you’ll whine and plead for me not to, but once I start stretching out that tight hole of yours, I know you’d thrust back into it like the pathetic ***** you are”. Louis continued to berate Criston as he ramped up the butt tickling, clawing right along the rim of his cheeks and making the Sub squirm. “You love being my bitch, don’t you? Claiming online that you purely want tickling, nothing sexual. Yet as soon as my hands are on you, you’re stiff as a board”. Criston bit down on his lip as he giggled, his stomach in knots with each humiliating statement that he knew was true.
“It must’ve been so embarrassing for you when you felt your cock rising in our first session. Oh god, am I really getting hard in front of a gay guy?”, he recited in a mocking tone. “Within an hour you were begging for said gay guy to jerk you off too. Please sir, oh please let me cum, I’m just an innocent straight guy turned on by tickles. Please touch my pervert dick and let me spurt my load”, Louis reeled off, brutally demeaning Criston. “Not to mention how much your eyes lit up when I showed you this dungeon. You couldn’t wait to get strapped down and used. You probably masturbate at night thinking about this. I bet you fantasize about all the different positions I can tie you up in, touching yourself as you imagine me buckling you into the cuffs and tickling all over your helpless body. I bet you cum thinking about the feeling of my nails teasing your armpits and feet, whilst you laugh and struggle at my mercy”.
“Fuuuccckkk yooouuuu”, Criston retaliated suddenly. The words came out almost unconsciously, and far sharper and less playful than Criston had intended them. He jumped at the feeling of the elastic waistband snapping back as Louis let go and withdrew from his butt. The Dom strode imposingly back into Criston’s view. The nervous sub tried to look away, but Louis gripped his chin roughly and yanked his head up until their eyes met. Tension ramped up inside him as he met the piercing glare of his upset captor, brown eyes burning into him like blowtorches. The chilling silence made him almost nostalgic for the sound of steady laughter.
“Fuck me? After how kind I’ve been to you, after how easy I’ve taken it on you?”, the Dom rattled off furiously. Although Criston knew Louis was just playing the part of a commanding interrogator and was really rather nice otherwise, his words had a thick venom that sold his performance completely. “You’re in big trouble now slave! I wanted to pry the combination out carefully and tactically. But now… my mercy is over, and you will crumble soon indeed”. Louis stormed over to the tool table with clear purpose. He picked up a black cloth bag and undid the drawstrings. He upended it, allowing bundles of rope to tumble to the floor. Louis left them there, returning to Criston with just the bag in hand. Before Criston could move away, Louis pulled the bag over his tied sub’s head and tightened the drawstrings. It wasn’t airtight by any means, but the bag was securely fixed over his head. Light glinted through the material, but was too thick for Criston to see anything around him.
“Maybe you agreed to this thinking your experience in being a deviant weirdo would help you resist the torture. I’m afraid I’ve got bad news for you… the tickling part is over. It’s time for a serious technique”, Louis revealed sadistically. Criston breath grew shallow instantly, his blinded eyes opening wide. Not tickling? But that’s what we do. What is he going to do to me, he could do anything. Criston considered clicking out his safety signal, but decided to wait. Surely, it’s a bluff. Or maybe… he won’t actually use a dildo on me, will he? That would be too far without asking me outright, surely. If he does, I’m clicking for sure. These thoughts raced through Criston’s mind, panic overtaking him as if he were in a real interrogation. He could hear Louis walking around; his steps were slow and deliberate, as if he were letting Criston bubble with anxiety on purpose.
“I’m sure lots of ideas are racing around your brain right now. What is this scary man going to do?”, Louis remarked slyly. “I’ll give you a hint. I’m going to use that bench you’re strapped to for its actual purpose this time”. Criston immediately began to writhe around in protest. The frantic sub had never been spanked before, but pain was something he’d never felt particularly drawn too. As Louis insinuated, the bench was forcing Criston into a prime position to receive a harsh spanking. No amount of panicked wiggling would protect his vulnerable cheeks from the hail of punishment they were about to endure. “Remember slave, you brought this on yourself”, Louis announced.
Something flat and firm struck Criston’s ass cheek suddenly, sending a ripple of painful energy through him. The sub cried out in shock, reeling from the unexpected blow. A second strike landed on his other cheek, prompting another yelp. “Do you like my leather paddle? Be thankful I’m not using the spiked side”, Louis said, as if he were being generous. The third blow was much harder, creating a whoosh sound in the air as it made contact. Criston whined through gritted teeth; as he imagined, he was quickly finding the painful paddling much more overwhelming than the tickling, which he at least had some experience with. Each strike hurt more than the last, the pain of impact amplified by the terrible burning sensation left behind from the previous blows.
“AAAAGHHHHH”, the spanking victim yelled out in agony. “What’s wrong, not so cocky anymore?”, Louis taunted him. “I’m barely even hitting you, you’re such a big baby”. Criston felt like an unruly child being disciplined by an overly strict parent. Although Criston often pleaded for a break from the tickling or mercy on certain weak spots, there was always an inner erotic thrill to the sensation that made him enjoy it deep down. In contrast, each brutal swat from the paddle made Criston feel less like a willing submissive and more like a reluctant captive. Pain play wasn’t something that interested him that much; his love for tickling stemmed from its ability to allow the dominant to punish you without inflicting physical pain. Every resounding smack on his ass made him want it to end right there, without the underlying “but not really” that he felt during tickling.
“Please stop hurting me! Leave my ass alone”, Criston implored his captor. Louis replied with another hard paddling, making his sub grunt in frustrated anguish. “You don’t get to dictate what I do slave. It’s an interrogation you’re supposed to suffer”, Louis outlined ruthlessly. “And I’m going to beat your ass bloody unless you give me the code”. Tears welled up in Criston’s eyes from the relentless stinging that reignited with every strike. He guessed that each butt cheek must’ve endured a dozen smacks each by now. He tugged at the bondage belts, anger flaming up inside him.
“Fucking stop spanking me! I hate it, I can’t take it”, Criston growled, becoming less willing to play the submissive role. “Then give me the code, or I’ll never stop”, Louis demanded. His voice was steely and unfazed by Criston’s outburst, but his prompting about the code indicated that he was giving Criston an open exit to the session if he were too unhappy, which cooled the frustrated sub’s rage a little. He bit his tongue and held out, spite driving him to withhold victory from his torturer. Criston heard the Dom put down the paddle, before unexpectedly pulling down Criston’s boxers until they were bunched up around his folded knees. His dick now hung free, however the paddling had it drained it back to soft.
“Your ass is bright red, just like it deserves to be!”, Louis proclaimed. “Hell, it might even bruise after the pounding I’ve given you so far”. Without warning, Louis slapped Criston’s butt with an open palm. The sound echoed in the dungeon, his cheek slightly jiggling on contact. Louis followed up with a series of rapid spanks, one after another. The hand smacks hurt way less than the paddle, but the quick succession of them caused the sharp pain to spike faster. “Who’s a naughty slave? You are!”, Louis cooed childishly. Criston’s breath grew shaky as he focused on managing the pain, but the unyielding ass slaps were proving too much for his tolerance. The entire session was shifting from kinky BDSM to outright displeasure in his mind. His resolve crumbling, he decided to bite the bullet and accept the punishment locked away in the box.
“SIX EIGHT THREE ONE”, Criston screeched out in defeat. Louis stepped away immediately, leaving his sub’s thoroughly battered ass to ache. “I knew I’d crack you!”, Louis trumpeted with glee. He rushed over to the lockbox and inputted the code whilst Criston remained bound on the bench, dreading what was inside the box. The padlock sprung open with a click, and the old metal box creaked as Louis claimed his prize. The Dom smugly swaggered back to the bench. The belts bound to his legs began to loosen as Louis untied him from the bench. Once his arms were freed, Criston shakily stood up. “Stand up straight, hands behind your back”, Louis ordered him. His anger from the session quickly dissipating, Criston hesitantly obeyed.
Louis crouched down; his prize clutched in his hands. Criston shuddered as Louis took hold of his scrotum. A smooth plastic ring slid over the top of his dick. One by one his balls were tucked through the bottom of the ring; his entire genitals were encircled by the contraption. A tube was fitted over his cock now, fully encasing it. The tube and ring fit together neatly. Louis fiddled with a tiny golden key, slipping it into a tiny lock where the ring and tube combined. With one turn of the lock, the chastity cage fixed together securely. The cage pressed against the skin around his balls firmly, and the tube was small enough that he could constantly feel how ensnared and trapped his cock now was.
Criston felt very uneasy; of course, he had consented to the idea and could shut it down if he absolutely needed to. But even though his horny curiosity drove him to allow the idea of chastity when Louis suggested, now that he was actually locked up the idea of walking around day to day with a locked-up cock unnerved him a little. It would certainly prove a challenge. Louis on the other hand was smiling ear to ear. “Look at you! You really are my slave boy now, as if there were any doubt”, Louis decreed triumphantly. “Until our next session, that dick of yours is my property. And if you want me to unlock you any time soon, you’d better be really nice to your master…”.
