By Ralph aka herrpee
“Business or pleasure?” asked the customs officer. Depends on how you define pleasure of course. What I was here for wasn’t really pleasure for most people. I even think some people would call me insane for what I describe as pleasure. I came here to push my boundaries. But customs officers are very rarely people with a sense of humor so I quickly answered “Pleasure Sir, pure pleasure.” After checking my passport and asking me what I intended to visit he let me pass.
That’s how this started. Now I’m not even sure if I was right about what was pleasure to me. My body ached, my balls were pounding, my dick felt like was on fire, my ass was… I can’t describe how it felt but it certainly wasn’t pleasurable.
But I know now I asked for it. And I got what I asked for.
Even when I was kid I had fun with bondage, trying out different knots, tying yourself to posts, your own bed… all was good fun when experimenting. Even a little self torture now and then was fun. As I grew older I found sports for that torture. I ran, I swam, I got high on sports. Breaking my own records and pushing my own limits felt so good. But you pay a price for that, my body feels and acts like that of an old man. And I’m only 35, I should be in the prime of my life. So back to selfbondage it was, I loved predicaments!
But the thing about selfbondage is safety and security: in case something goes wrong, you need to be able to escape or you die lonely and miserably.
And whilst quitting sport, my spirit for pushing boundaries quit too somehow. So if the predicament was more painful than I anticipated, I used the emergency exit. I was always disappointed in myself, but I couldn’t get myself to accept what came to me, the spirit was gone. Whilst browsing forums about bondage I saw amazing pictures and movies. Things you could never achieve on your own safely.
Safety is a word that feels so empty now. I was lying in a rubber sleep sack, I had a gasmask on and could barely move. I could barely breathe too, the airflow was restricted. Since long there was no fun anymore for me in this; though I started every with hard one with painful consequences, like always when thinking about bondage. Now my dick was flaccid and sore from what he had to endure the hours before. I was actually happy it wasn’t rock hard because the pins in the chastity device felt devilish.
The sleep sack was my resting time: totally immobilized and at least hooded, sometimes gasmasked I was lying on the mattress. Sleeping when possible but always waiting for my next challenge. God I wish I could touch my balls or dick, to massage the pain out of them, to stroke them back to comfort. Alas, all I could do was wiggle a little bit around because of the straps around the bag. I sighed, well I tried to and tried to get some rest because whenever he came, there would a sensory overload again.
It all started so easy: some push-ups, a couple of crunches, some stretching, every morning for starters. You know, all the good stuff we all should do on a regular basis. Then came the first challenge: standing on your toes. It was even fun to start, I had to wear high heels, first only 5 or 6 centimeters high heels for 2 days, then about 8 centimeters, then 10. We had a good laugh when I hobbled around trying to keep my balance but soon I got used to the heels. So he upped the challenge, how would I do without the support of the heels? Tiptoeing around was hard and the first times I couldn’t get to 30 seconds. “C’mon boy, you trained for a week and can’t get to a minute, compose yourself!” The first time he used that sentence his voice was calm, but by the third day there was a tone of anger emerging in his voice. By the fourth day of this morning ritual of sit-ups, crunches and standing on my toes he really got angry about my incapability of acting out his orders. “One minute, one fucking minute is the least you should be able to do boy!” “I’m sorry Sir” I replied. “What on earth can I do with your sorry, you sorry ass” was his response. In anger he tied me to a post in his room and left off. An hour or what later he came back with a box. “I’ll help you boy, as I promised. I won’t stand you letting you not keep your promise to me, you shall push your limits.” He made me undress whilst he opened his box. “Your first punishment shall be wearing this tutu when you exercise for this with these accompanying pointes, c’mon put them on.” I took the pointes, they felt really weird on my feet. Then I took the pink tutu and put that on too. When I looked in the mirror hanging in the room I realized I looked completely silly and that was probably his intention. “Come here boy, give me your arms.” Without hesitation I stepped over to him and presented my arms. “Turn around, put your arms on your back.” After I complied I felt some kind of sleeve going over my arms. Straps were fastened and suddenly I had no way to use my arms anymore, they sat tightly secured behind my back. “Good boy, you’d ruin my fun If you could use your arms for your first punishment.” I started to breathe a little heavier, I had totally no clue what was coming.
He took a metal rod out the box, it was fastened on a metal plate and you could see shackles about 10 centimeters above the plate and something metal with screws on top. He placed it on the floor and made me come over. I had to stand next to rod and he shackled my legs to the rod. Then I realized what it was, but it was too late. With my arms secured behind my back and my feet shackled to the bar there was no way for me to protest. He took my balls from under the tutu and clamped then on the device on top of the steel bar. Slowly he started to raise the bar. The pain in my balls made me stand up and I tried to follow the height he desired. When I finally really was tiptoeing he stopped raising the bar. “One minute boy, you’ll make it this time” he grinned. I had difficulties keeping my balance, but not standing still, trying not to stand on my toes were violently greeted by pain in my balls. I started yelping, I started begging to be released real soon, but somehow I managed to hold on for one minute. He lowered to bar and allowed me to catch my breath. “Boy, you always gonna be so noisy?” he asked with an angered tone in his voice.” “Sorry Sir, I couldn’t help it, it hurt.” That was the wrong answer to give I guessed because he left the room and closed the door with a bang. He came back a couple of minutes later with more attributes. “Take the pain like man you excuse for a maggot!” and he took a rubber hood and put it over my head. After he hooded my he took a ball gag and locked that over the hood. “Let’s see now how it goes now.” And he raised the bar again so I had to stand on my toes. “Two minutes boy” he whispered in my ear with a sadistic grin. Again I tried to keep my balance, soon I started heaving, my legs started trembling but the pain made sure I didn’t even think about lowering my soles to the ground. I groaned, I moaned but somehow I managed to keep on my toes for 2 minutes. “See boy, all you lack is some kind of drive. I will drive you to your limits, with all I have.” He let me catch my breath and relax my legs. “You couldn’t do 30 seconds on your own, but with my motivation you could do 2 minutes without a problem, don’t you think that tells something about you? Again!” He raised the bar again and all I could do was to follow it or the pain in my balls became unbearable. I moaned and protested again. People say gags get you silent. Not true, they make you quieter but certainly not silent. And they make you drool, you can’t help it. So I tried to cry out loud after about one minute and a half because I thought I really couldn’t keep it up for any longer. All I achieved was making some strange howling noise and I made saliva dripping on the floor. “Be quiet!” he yelled at me, “you know you can do it, you did before!” But I couldn’t help myself, I felt like a trembling piece of misery. I tried to stand on my toes but I lacked strength and endurance. But what I lacked was compensated by the device clamping my balls. Somehow I made it. He lowered the bar and I looked at my balls. They had an interesting blue color. “Enough for now” he said. He unclamped my balls but left my feet shackled to the bar. He left the room once more and came back with a metal belt, shaped like a latowski belt. “Second part of the punishment is that you have forfeit your right to touching your cock and balls, you will wear this belt when I deem it necessary.” Still with my hands secured behind my back he started putting the belt on me. I screamed in my gag again when he put my blue balls in their compartment. Somehow it exited me and my dick was beginning to grow. Soon it met the spikes in the tube. I moaned in surprise. “Hah my boy, you found out this belt has a hundred little extras for your sorry little dick? Enjoy it, but don’t worry you won’t have to always wear the belt, I have plenty of surprises for you. He left the room and let me standing in the room, drooling on the floor, wondering what would come next. The Master changed his attitude now he found out that pain was a good motivator for me. He left me standing for what felt like an hour, but I had no clue how long I was alone in the room.
When he came back, he unshackled my feet, put a collar around my neck and tugged me forward. I was happy I finally could really move my legs. He took me through His house and stopped at a door I hadn’t entered. “Now it really begins boy” he said and I saw his eyes sparkle. “Welcome to my paradise.”