Dante's Inferno (Story Thread)

[JustJJ]

Damien placed his hands on Dante’s naked shoulders, gently massaging them. The intent was to keep his victim guessing and also to feel for the tension in his muscles. His shoulders were knotted with anxiety and his skin was clammy.

Damien whispered in his ear, “Hands behind your back.” When Dante obeyed, he produced softly lined cuffs from a pocket and fixed the buckles around each wrist. Each had a metal carabiner attached, and he clipped these together. Then he did the same with his ankles.

He’d prepared a single rope, looped through a ring in the ceiling. He pulled the end of the rope between Dante’s wrist cuffs and secured them with a practiced knot.

Damien waited, watching the timer count down for a full sixty seconds before making his next move.

Then he pulled the other end of the rope, forcing Dante forward at first, then up on his feet painfully in the strappado position. With his ankles linked together, there wasn’t room to adjust his stance, but he tried desperately to shuffle his feet to find a more comfortable way to balance himself. Damien secured the other end of the rope to a ring in the floor.

In reality, his arms were only halfway pulled up, but the blindfold and awkward predicament was already doing its work to disorient him. He danced involuntarily, trying to find his footing, and Damien let him do this for a few minutes before he taunted, “You can’t hold still, can you?”

Dante’s muscles were beginning to ache in protest, but he only grunted in response, gritting his teeth to avoid crying out.

Damien was very aware of the time, and already the first fifteen minutes had passed. “Alright, I’ll release your ankles so you can get your balance.”

Dante huffed as he felt his ankle cuffs move and heard the interlocking links release each other. This small amount of freedom gave him room to steady himself, but Damien was ready with another device: a spreader bar with rings on each end. Once Dante was standing steadily, one end of the spreader bar was linked to his right ankle. With a gentle hand, Damien guided him to spread his legs apart until there were three feet between his ankles. The other carabiner snapped into place, and Dante found that he could not move his feet any closer together.

He stood steadily now, but not at all comfortably.

“Let’s add a little strain to your position.” Damien said coolly.

Add a little strain? He was already strained!

Then the rope between his wrists was pulled again, forcing him to bend forward as his arms were stretched higher and his shoulders crumpled painfully. He grimaced, flexing his hands out and bending his knees.

Damien secured the rope to the ring in the floor again, and stood back to watch his victim suffer in anticipation. Dante’s legs were spread wide and his exposed dick dangled between his bent knees, and his ass was bent in a vain attempt to protect his aching back.

Damien watched the clock count down to five hours, thirty minutes. Then he softly retrieved two items from the table: a long crop with a leather triangular tip, and a pinwheel with five rows of pins.

 

[AnyaN]

Dante's earlier torment by Damien in what both agreed to call a "Mulligan," was, despite Dante's own attempts to caution himself against it, so mild and, frankly, novice-level treatment, that despite knowing Damien had tortured Dante's strongest slave, lukas, in the preliminary contest to determine each Master's placement in the Inferno. Damien earned the Sixth Circle, as Dante knew well. The placements were determined based on how soon lukas begged for mercy...

Why didn't I think about that when we drew up the contract?

Dante's heart started to race as he felt his arms pulled up. As his muscles twitched, and he struggled to find some semblence of footing, which served only to aggravate the pain in his arms, shoulders and back, Dante struggled to focus his mind on the preliminary round with lukas.

He had not seen the session. Each Master had their own privacy, no video or photographs allowed. But of course Dante was briefed on the medical details later for the sake of knowing what his people would need, and how long the slave would need, to recover before his next session.

Damien had been the second to torture lukas, determined by random draw. His record stood for the next four Masters, but even then, his second-place for the next two after him was only lost by less than half and hour between them.

Twelve hours... Dante thought frantically as he felt his arms raised slightly more. That was how long each Master's session with lukas lasted. Dante started to pant as he recalled the notes about when lukas first begged for mercy...

The notes were provided by a confidential witness who atttended each session. They kept a close eye and ear to see when the first cry for mercy burst forth. The witness would provide the list of various times to Dante, and each Master's Circle would be assigned.

How long did lukas last?

Dante took a few moments to hold his breath, then slowly exhaled once he'd been able to get a secure footing. That relief was shor-lived, as it seemed like not even a second later, his ankles were secured to cuffs again, and spread apart. The distance was nothing Dante couldn't handle, if he'd been fully upright. But the strain in his muscles was certainly getting to him.

Like the Inferno contest itself, the preliminary round of torturing lukas prohibited anal torture devices and electricity. So all of lukas's pleas had to be obtained by whatever methods the Masters could devise without those assuring horrors.

Dante twisted his head instinctively, realizing now how vulnerable his ass was to such devices. Despite the blindfold, he tried to look toward his backside, trying not to imagine what agonizing device lay mere centimeters from his exposed hole...

But Dante realized the futility of this, and sighed, moving his head back to a more comfortable position. He took another slow, deep breath.

How long did he last? Dante asked himself again.

Dante seemed to be in a void where he felt alone, but he knew he wasn't. He felt like he couldn't move, but he could actually twist his body, if he was insane enough to want to, but that would only cause greater pain than if he would just stay still. Since Damien seemed to be making no current movements toward him, Dante let his mind swim back to the thoughts of lukas's primary session with Damien...

Each Master was instructed that while there were other limits, such as no permanent injury, none of them should hold back in whatever they decided to do to lukas. As Dante read the notes of each Master, which he only did after he had his own session with lukas after all the other Masters had their sessions, this was Dante's way of ensuring fairness, it was clear that several Masters, who ended up on the lower spectrum, did not take that invitation to heart... But Damien, Torquemada, Hades, and Mephistopheles seemed to go all-out, no holds barred. It took lukas two weeks to heal from his session with Damien.

As the thought of visiting lukas in his medical facility afterward, hearing the young man sobbing, moaning, and seeing the welts, burn marks, and damage to his joints, made itself more prominent in Dante's mind, the slower and more meditative Dante's breathing became. He even smiled with pleasure at seeing the nurses picking out the tiny metal skewers in his cock, balls, and groin, many of which had red marks from heat around them...

Dante gasped, and his face went white.

Two hours and twenty-seven minutes and eighteen seconds... That was when lukas first begged for mercy... The notes even listed the specific method, and words lukas used...

"Make it stop!"

There had been five small skewers in his right ball, and a metal vice on the other one. Damien had interchanged crushing the ball and inserting the skewers into the other. lukas held out pretty well, considering, but then the candle's flame licked each of the skewers, one by one...

Holy shit! Two hours, twenty-seven minutes, and eighteen seconds...



The contract specified that if Dante screamed before two and a half hours...

Now Dante couldn't help trembling.

And he had to endure without begging for mercy for three and a half hours...

Dear God... What the Hell did I do?

Each Master knew their own time for when they'd gotten lukas to beg for mercy, just as Dante did.

I am such an idiot! I suggested the two-and-a-half hour deadline for screaming. He came up with the three-and-a-half hour deadline for pleading... knowing when he got my strongest slave to break!

And I had no reason to suggest a later time... it was after the halfway point, so it was only fair...

Okay... okay... Dante slowly took deep breaths. Don't panic. You can do this. Think of how he was earlier... weak!

You god-damned fool... he played you in that hour... he was testing your weaknesses, and your resolve... and your ego. Just like the poker game, he knows exactly how to play with you.

Though he was blindfolded, Dante narrowed his eyes and stiffened his body, despite the pain in his back, shoulders, and legs.

Prove him wrong. That's why you made this wager in the first place. Even if you end up screaming later on, you'll at least be aware of yourself enough to know never to beg for mercy. And you can certainly handle keeping your mouth shut for two-and-a-half hours. Grow a pair, and man up!

This little pep talk served Dante well; in seconds, he tossed his head back casually, and smirked.

He didn't know how much time actually passed, and of course he didn't know what awaited him, but he decided to taunt Damien just to see if he could throw him off his game.

"I seem to be rather quiet so far. I imagine that's not very fun for you. Maybe you should put on some music or something, so I don't end up boring you too much. Hope you brought a book to read during these dry spells?" He laughed.

But his laugh soon turned into a sharp gasp, and he twitched his body slightly.

"Haaa..." He started panting. "Hoo... haaa... huh-uh... [ha![/i] Several seconds passed while Dante held his breath to calm himself. "Aiee! Aiee! Ya!" The sounds leaving his mouth were softer than his normal tone of speaking, but he was clearly in greater pain now. "Holy shit," he managed to whisper. "Oh, fuck!" It was another whisper as he panted. Then, a sharper, louder gasp, and, just below his normal speaking volume, "Jesus!" He panted again, and soon more sounds escaped his mouth..."Ahhhh.... ahhhh... ughhhhhh... Ya! Guh!" "Oh, fuck!" His voice was slowly escalating in volume, and just a little louder than his normal speaking tone. "Holy fuck!" It was his loudest cry yet, but still, it was barely a shout, in terms of volume.

Now, beads of sweat were starting to form on his forehead.

 

[AnyaN]

(I wanted to add a bit more to this...)


"Uhhhhhhh-Ahhhhhh! Owwwww-ooooh-yaaaaaawwwwwwwooooooh! Fuck! Oh, fuuuuuuuuck!" He couldn't help but shake his head. As necessary as it was to remain still, Dante started writhing his body more and more. His arms instinctively tried to move down, He somehow found the strength to shuffle his feet. "Jesus!" he cried out as he realized the pain which resulted from moving.

But he had to move. That hideous thing! He had no idea what it was, but it was delivering a level of torment he had never expected.

God, get a fucking hold of yourself already! You want to put up with this for weeks?!

"Huh-uh!" Dante shook his head, partially in protest to his torment, but also to answer his own rhetorical question.

He held his breath, without any intake of air. He closed his mouth. He took a deep breath several seconds later, and slowly exhaled through a slightly open mouth...

"Haaaaahhhh.... uhhhhhh.... owwwww-oooooh...." Dante shook his head again, and gulped.

Through your nose. Exhale through your nose. Do not open your mouth.

Dante took a slow deep breath again, but his face was a mask of pain. He held his breath for several moments before he exhaled through his nose.

Dante shuddered. It had been several moments since Damien had done anything.

He's playing you like a fiddle...

Dante kept his mouth closed, and regained his steady breathing.

But he quickly jerked his head back in pain, less than a second after Dante regained much of his composure.

Dante kept his mouth closed, but didn't clench his teeth, as he "mmmmm"ed over and over again. He struggled to keep this as soft as possible, but there was no real way to hide reacting to this much torment. Further, Dante couldn't even bring his head forward, the pain was so great.

He finally clenched his teeth, barely managing to keep his lips tightly closed.

"mmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!"

Though he'd been still for quite some time now, he couldn't help it now. He thrashed his body forward.

The pain tore through his shoulder as a result of this movement. In an instant, while he was still giving the "stifled cry, his mouth flew open wide.

"Aaaaaarrrrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhhh! St- Guh! Yaaaaaaaahhhhhhh! Yeeeeeeeeee!"

Through all these loud cries, he jerked his body back, and writhed more forcefully to find some way to deter or prevent that thing from touching him.

"Eeee! Haaa! Uuuuuuuuuuuuugggggggggghhhhh! Huh-owwwwwwwoooooohhhhhhaaaaaahhhhh!"

Dante panted once more. There was no way to tell whether his cries rose to the level of screams or not. He had to trust Damien...

 

[AnyaN]

I'm really sorry for taking so long to get back to this! Honestly I've been trying to think of how I wanted to proceed... Hope you enjoy!

BACK TO MIDAS AND jason...

As Master Midas continued to force the slave to tear at his own balls in order to receive his stimulating Touch, jason grew anxious to avoid hurting himself. It was all part of Master Midas's plan: Bring the slave precisely to this point, then lay off for a while, and when he touched him again, the slave would instinctively shift himself as much as he could to avoid him. Either way, it caused pain. But the intense stimulation had already made his skin sensitive enough that he was starting to wish Master Midas would do something, anything else, touch anything else, but Master Midas persisted.

Just over four hours had passed in the twelve hour session. Master Midas finally brought him to the brink one last time, then removed jason's wrist and leg restraints. jason was jerking his hips and crying. Master Midas dragged jason without resistance to a small table with a cylinder under it. He forced jason onto his stomach and secured his wrists with cuffs attached to chains embedded in the floor. He spread jason's legs, and secured his ankles to similar cuffs.

The beauty of this particular sounding rod Master Midas had chosen was that the small hole in the key shape at the top was able to fit nicely onto a small peg on the cylinder which supported the metal table under jason's torso and ribs. After removing each of the bands around jason's cock, and the cock ring, he pulled the sounding rod out just over halfway out and let the hole slide around the peg. jason then felt a tug at his balls and a thin rope being looped around them. In seconds, he felt them pulled tightly downward, while his cock remained almost level.

Master Midas directed his attention next to jason's nipples. He'd naturally removed the chain which had previously been attached to the sounding rod, but now he replaced it and secured it to a ring in the floor. Now the slave would have to remain still unless he wanted to torture his nipples, which included keeping his head still, but of course jason had not succeeded in avoiding that fate really since the moment he'd been brought in.

Master Midas withdrew himself for a few moments. He wanted to give jason time to understand what he'd soon be dealing with if he dared to move. The slightest jerk of his hips caused a pull on his balls, and the sounding rod moved in and out of his cock, but was never withdrawn completely. At the sudden cry that escaped his lips, Master Midas paused to look. As the slave continued to whimper, and struggle to keep still, Master Midas smiled. The studs of the sounding rod were finally fulfilling their true purpose. Add to that the pull of his balls and nipples, and the slave did not want to move at all.

But Master Midas was an expert mechanic. He knew how to keep a motor running even when it was stubbornly trying not to. He returned to jason and caressed his cock and balls, paying particular attention to the areas where the bands and ring had been. He caressed the part of the rod which was withdrawn for a few moments, then continued to caress the slave's cock and balls.

jason couldn't help but move. He moaned, hoping that now he'd finally be able to expel some of what he had in him. He felt a warmth on his skin, which was pleasant... for about thirty seconds.

As jason felt the effects of whatever was on Master Midas's golden gloves, he soon began to twitch, whimper, and then he started to writhe... and in a matter of moments, threw his head back and screamed as he thrashed in desperation.

Master Midas was notorious with the other Masters for a secret which he kept from all of them, one thing which caused every single slave he'd ever subjected to it to break sooner rather than later.

The oil had taken months to perfect. Finally it turned into a hideous concoction of cinnamon, various hot peppers, and, the key, poison ivy. This was why Master Midas only used it while wearing gloves, specifically his golden ones. Further, it was important to apply it not only to the skin directly, but he found that putting it on the sounding rod and allowing the slave to thrash which caused the rod to be pushed deeper into his cock was another important factor in getting the slave to break.

When he'd used the oil on lukas in the preliminary round, lukas lasted a mere nine minutes before he gave his first cry for mercy.

Master Midas stood behind jason for several minutes, savoring every moment of the slave's thrashing and screaming.

Only a matter of time now...

 

[AnyaN]

(LONG overdue I know! Apologies!)

Master Midas waited a half hour before doing anything else. He relished jason's piteous reactions to the self-torturing bondage and the agony of the poison ivy oil. It was clear from his reaction that he had never experienced such anguish in his life.

It was only a matter of time before the slave would break and beg for mercy, and the genius of Master Midas's session was that he himself had hardly done anything to him to inflict this pain. The oil was his trump card, a guarantee that the slave would break within the hour of its application. Master Midas checked his clock. There was just over four hours remaining.

Master Midas rose from his seat and picked up the flat wide leather strap. It was thin, but with the right force could cause serious stings over time.

Walking around jason, he casually swatted jason's ass, back, hips, and legs. Every so often, he would swipe the strap close to the skin, but not striking it directly, so the whoosh of air against the skin was pain in itself. He varied the severity of the strikes, as well as the angles and positions the strikes would land.

But Master Midas was smart and meticulous. He inflicted pain, but only mild amounts, waiting to see how far he could go with future whippings. Every time jason flinched, the rod in his cock moved, his nipples were pulled, and the platform he was on would rock back and forth. jason was already struggling to be still when the whipping began, and now it was even more difficult, but not impossible, for him to not move. Master Midas made certain to send the unconscious message to jason that the pain from the poison ivy oil and his bondage was worse than the whipping itself.

Master Midas stopped when jason was more capable of moaning steadily and softly than shrieking or screaming. As he planned, the boy had not begged yet. Master Midas would not allow that for some time. He guessed between the fourth or fifth whipping.

Time to shift gears, Master Midas thought.

He picked up a ten-tailed whip with thin knotted leather strands. It was not going to be particularly damaging, but the pain would be a considerable escalation from the strap.

Master Midas focused his lashes from this on jason's shoulders, hips, spinal cord, and his sides. Unlike before, all of his strikes were harsh, but they remained steadily so through the entire whipping, never getting worse than they were when they started.

As Master Midas expected, jason was reeling, yowling and whimpering miserably, but he hadn't exactly screamed yet... and he certainly hadn't pleaded for mercy.

Good things come to those who wait.

Master Midas picked up a ladle from a nearby bucket. Carefully, he tilted the object so that its spout slowly trickled out the liquid onto the skin of jason's back. Master Midas focused on the spinal cord. The salty brine drizzled along the freshly-whipped skin. Occasionally, he'd fling the ladle in a direction so that the brine would splash onto jason's shoulder or hip, and finally positioned the ladle over the quivering ass cheeks. jason was thrashing and yowling more impatiently now, yet his target was easy to reach. Master Midas tilted the ladle and let the remainder of the liquid splash onto jason's left ass cheek, which had been struck so much with both the strap and the ten-tailed whip. Master Midas scooped another ladleful of brine, but paused to relish jason as he suffered.

Still no pleas for mercy. Exactly as Master Midas planned. When he would finally break, it would be when the slave did not think it could possibly get worse. That time was not now.

 

[AnyaN]

Regretfully, the subplot with Damien and Dante must be put on hold. judith has dropped out, so I need anew partner willing to take over the role of Damien! If interested, please PM me.

 

[Loinclothslave]

Regretfully, the subplot with Damien and Dante must be put on hold. judith has dropped out, so I need anew partner willing to take over the role of Damien! If interested, please PM me.

It looks like I’m in the box seat for the interim. Discussion ongoing.

But Jason first? Or even simultaneously?

Stay tuned

 

[AnyaN]

SimultanSimultaneously is just what I had in mind!eously works for me!

 

[Loinclothslave]

jason: I’m just so exposed by Master, He controls me and dominates me and it’s so so much! Oh Ghod what now, an ointment? I’m just a slave to his cruelty and I’m not allowed to beg but am feeling compelled to!

After half an hour I feel the heat of the oil within my own cock and scream, I continue screaming every so often and no relief is offered me, none at all. I feel so completely enslaved and beneath Master Midas complete power.

“Master? Ohhh master, you own this slave! It completely surrenders to your power and control, it knows it is but your helpless slave and begs for you to receive it’s complete capitulation, Master…”

Maybe my submissive subservience might impress him enough to ease up a little? Just… release… the… sound! It’s all I want! He can do anything else, just… not… the… sound!

His answer is to strike me, after many blows, I figured to be wide leather strap instead, and I try to thrash against my bondage trying to somehow escape the agony and fear of what is to come! But surely I knew i could withstand this strap? He continues hitting me all over, the hardest part is trying to remain still to stop the extra pain of my urethra…

Then after lots os strapping I feel a new lash, laid on hard! I feel the thuds pushing air from my lungs when he strikes my back. It is painful for a multi tail, I can tell by it’s sound that it’s a flogger. But what pain it delivered ! It must be a knotted multi tail and try as I might, it is impossible to be still as I yowl and struggle in my bonds. This only makes it harder on my cock, moving my shaft against the sound is painful enough but real agony endured as more of the… what is it, pepper oil? No, something stronger, perhaps chili? More invaded inside me every time I moved. It was that that threatened my equilibrium, I could take even this harsh flogger by itself for hours!

He’s letting me continue to suffer the oil invading my most sensitive parts while delivering blow after blow with his whip. Sure, I’ve been hit by far worse, but on top of his CBT I feel my tolerance sorely tested and a growing need to beg for mercy, despite it being forbidden, despite knowing it would be futile, I’m so lost in my pain I need to try and soon! Still I resist this urge… I tell myself it’s only a flogger, I’ve endured worse whipping, and I focus upon the rhythm of being flogged, knowing that is my duty, and so chant my mantra …

“Ohhhh slave, slave, whipped slave, worthless slave, just a slave, pathetic slave, SLAVE? slaaaaaave…(etc)” I stop even screaming, releasing the agony through my chant…”SLAAAAVE!!!” this way I’ll never beg, I will only endure! The flogger lands into my flesh everywhere! I welcome it!

 

[Fossy]

jason: I’m just so exposed by Master, He controls me and dominates me and it’s so so much! Oh Ghod what now, an ointment? I’m just a slave to his cruelty and I’m not allowed to beg but am feeling compelled to!

After half an hour I feel the heat of the oil within my own cock and scream, I continue screaming every so often and no relief is offered me, none at all. I feel so completely enslaved and beneath Master Midas complete power.

“Master? Ohhh master, you own this slave! It completely surrenders to your power and control, it knows it is but your helpless slave and begs for you to receive it’s complete capitulation, Master…”

Maybe my submissive subservience might impress him enough to ease up a little? Just… release… the… sound! It’s all I want! He can do anything else, just… not… the… sound!

His answer is to strike me, after many blows, I figured to be wide leather strap instead, and I try to thrash against my bondage trying to somehow escape the agony and fear of what is to come! But surely I knew i could withstand this strap? He continues hitting me all over, the hardest part is trying to remain still to stop the extra pain of my urethra…

Then after lots os strapping I feel a new lash, laid on hard! I feel the thuds pushing air from my lungs when he strikes my back. It is painful for a multi tail, I can tell by it’s sound that it’s a flogger. But what pain it delivered ! It must be a knotted multi tail and try as I might, it is impossible to be still as I yowl and struggle in my bonds. This only makes it harder on my cock, moving my shaft against the sound is painful enough but real agony endured as more of the… what is it, pepper oil? No, something stronger, perhaps chili? More invaded inside me every time I moved. It was that that threatened my equilibrium, I could take even this harsh flogger by itself for hours!

He’s letting me continue to suffer the oil invading my most sensitive parts while delivering blow after blow with his whip. Sure, I’ve been hit by far worse, but on top of his CBT I feel my tolerance sorely tested and a growing need to beg for mercy, despite it being forbidden, despite knowing it would be futile, I’m so lost in my pain I need to try and soon! Still I resist this urge… I tell myself it’s only a flogger, I’ve endured worse whipping, and I focus upon the rhythm of being flogged, knowing that is my duty, and so chant my mantra …

“Ohhhh slave, slave, whipped slave, worthless slave, just a slave, pathetic slave, SLAVE? slaaaaaave…(etc)” I stop even screaming, releasing the agony through my chant…”SLAAAAVE!!!” this way I’ll never beg, I will only endure! The flogger lands into my flesh everywhere! I welcome it!

The agony is clearly evident, as is the pleasure in the pain. A very evocative piece Loin', great writing!

 

[AnyaN]

I completely agree!

You know, I came here to experiment with torture stories, and I am learning how to refine aspects that I can apply to my regular writing:

Pacing
Time-Lapse

I think you'll see a difference in future posts from me, as well as the remaining sessions!

 

[AnyaN]

Master Midas had this slave exactly where he wanted him. Thrashing and wailing, unable to control himself, desperate for the pain to end...

Almost got you... Almost...

He took his time with the strap, causing just enough pain to elicit a slight jerk in response. Before he seemed to get too used to it, Master Midas would lay on a heavier blow, usually to one of his hips or shoulder blades, his favorite targets. In the end, only a few minor welts were on the slave's back.

Now, let's see how you handle a harsher lashing...

Master Midas used a ten-tailed knotted flogger with thin tails. He administered blows harshly enough, he supposed, that would cause this slave to finally break..

What's this?

Master Midas did not pause or change his tactics when the slave started to calm down and relished the blows raining upon him. Rather, Master Midas took a slow, deep breath and worked with the rhythm the slave moved and spoke with. He hadn't expected this, but it gave him exactly what he needed.

So, that is your favorite torment... the lash...

Master Midas smiled to himself. He had the slave exactly where he wanted him. Now, all the agonizing edging from hours before on the frame, not to mention the oil, and the sound, were about to pay off in a big way.

Master Midas waited until the slave was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice, or didn't seem to, that Master Midas had stopped the whipping. Master Midas retrieveda second pair of his precious golden gloves and put them on.

These gloves did not have any oil on them. On the other hand, there were tiny plastic points on the palms.

But before the slave would suffer these, Master Midas would remind him ever so gently of why he was there...

He returned to jason and crouched down. He reached with one of his hands and used only his index finger to touch the middle of jason's cock, as lightly as he could, and slowly began to stroke the middle of it. Whenever he came to a spot where bands had previously been placed, Master Midas would press and hold his finger for several seconds before moving on.

As expected, the reaction was instant. jason gave Master Midas exactly what he was hoping for. Oh, how he relished it! But he paid the slave no mind, and continued to use his index finger alone to torment the sensitive skin.

Finally, when jason's thrashing brought the sounding rod as deep into himself as it could possibly go, Master Midas used his thumb and forefinger and grasped jason's cock head, and squeezed... He did not know what would come soon when Master Midas would use his entire hand to squeeze jason's cock, and Master Midas was going to keep that torment for a few minutes. No doubt every second that passed this way was agony, more agony than ever before in the session.

As jason's head thrashed, no doubt his nipples were contantly in pain. Master Midas decided to take advantage of this by using his other hand to adjust the tightness on the clamp closest to him. After several moments, he adjusted his position so he could have access to the other clamp, without affecting his grip on jason's cock head, and tightened the other clamp. He then trailed his hand to the chain which was attached to the hook under the platform, and pulled it hard.

That should teach you... you are here to suffer in agony, until I decide otherwise...

Master Midas waited, then released his grip on both the nipple chain and jason's cock head. He waited patiently until the slave recovered his senses enough to be fearful of what would possibly come next...

But all he got was another light caress, this time on his balls, tracing where the bondage had been, and pressing every so often to ensure that even the slightest touch on this oil-treated flesh would be excruciating.

Almost time...

Master Midas opened his hand and tapped his open palm against the slave's balls... No pain resulted, but it was enough to get the slave's terrified attention. Tap... tap... tap...

After severa light taps, Master Midas swiped his hand ever so slightly, allowing the slave to feel what the spikes could do if used to scratch sensitive skin. It felt like little more than a cat scratch, but it was enough to make the slave dread what would come.

The first harsh slaps came without any warning, though jason no doubt was expecting something like it. Master Midas took his time between slaps, and varied his strength from sharp blows to the lightest tap.

Master Midas continued unfazed, but smiled as the slave responded in exactly the way he expected him to. The oil and edging earlier had the effect of the slave not being able to stand the slightest touch, let alone arousal that couldn't be achieved because of the bondage. The slave's thrashing only served to cause himself further agony than he would have suffered if he had only remained still, and Master Midas would not allow him to remain still. He knew exactly how to run his engine... when to turn it on, let it idle, and when to push it.

There you are... Your limit. Now you are exactly where I want you. And your suffering is far, far from over.

 

[Loinclothslave]

Oh slave…

Whoosh tack!

slaaaave!…. Just a slave… whipped slave…

The flogging ceased after a few more heavy swings and in my subspace I begin to lose focus… then a touch on my cock!

“Uuuhhh!”

What now? My cock begins to feel both pleasure and pain… it feels like it hasn’t been touched gently in an eternity! But at the same time it’s hurting, even the first gentle touches, so I flinch!

“Aaaaaaaiiiigh!!”

That damned sound, and the chili oil within! Oh god it hurts whenever I move but my cock responds anyway…

“Ooooooohhhh!” More a moan of pleasure than pain.

This continued while you applied more fingers in increasingly painful grips! Until I was sure that damned sound was in my bladder! And the chili oil made it feel like it was on fire from within!

Now you tighten my nipple clamps! I didn’t think they could be tighter!

“Aaaaaaaiiiigh, sobbing oh. Master… master… MASTER?”

But it’s a totally sexual thing as well, more pain to my nipples always creates an intense erotic response! It’s maybe as if they were clitorises!

As my cock hardens towards the rockier end of the hardness scale, it also scraped the sound, creating an incredible pain-pleasure-pain cycle…

Now you firmly pinch my cockhead and pain wins! I thrashed against my bonds, against the sound, the clamps, everything, I was getting overwhelmed when you tugged the nipple chain, hard!

“UUUUHHHHNNYYAAAARGH!…. Mmmmmmffff… aaaaahhhh!”

“Oh Master…. Master… Master???”

Tears flooded my eyes an my breathing shortened, almost hyperventilating.

“Ohh please? Master? Noooo, oh Ghod noooo, the pain!”

Fearing what would come next, I nearly screamed again when all you did was gently caress my balls…

“Aaahhaaa… Mmmmmmm!”

Then gently squeeze and then tap…

“Ag ah ah Aaaahhhh!”

There’s less erotic response than raw pain and FEAR as I begin to detect the vicious spikes from what is some kind of diabolical vampire glove! FEAR consumes my mind…

SLAP!!!

“AAAAAAAIIIIGH!”

Oh Ghod, I cannot plea for mercy… doing so makes everything worse…. I must try…. to… endure…

Screams continue on the hard slaps but the softer ones are almost a relief. And you don’t keep a rhythm, it’s so unpredictable, my mantra isn’t working.

Pain and fear, it’s all i know now… I involuntarily thrash, only to be rewarded with further agony… I’m so desperate and after a series of harsh blows, make a desperate decision.

Between screams:

“oh Master, Master, Master?”

“… oh please don’t! Oh Master please I beg you please, please, please whip this slave?”

Screams

“Only a harsh whip Master, for your sadistic pleasure. Oh please whip me? I surrender to your whip Master, please whip hard?”

More screams as you keep slapping my balls and cock with the vampire gloves and even in my exhaustion I scream harder than all session, as the vicious oil invaded new cuts…

Sobbing “I beg you to whip me?”

AAAAAAAIIIIGH!

“Oh please whip me”

Voice grows weaker…

Whispers “whip me???”

… my voice gets quieter despite my desperate screams!

“oh please master…”

…

“the whip?”

 

[AnyaN]

Master Midas continued to slap the slave's balls for a few minutes. He didn't know when the slave first begged for him to stop, but he had a feeling his record would stand for a while...

Which reminded him...

There was a special adendum in the contest rules, something he didn't know if the other Masters would keep in mind...

The Master who got the slave to plead the most amount of time would win a special prize:

The right to torture the slave for another 12-hour session, no holds barred, for 12 hours.

If that Master was not the winner of the contest, he had the right to challenge the Master to another round of torture sessions with the slave. If the challenger got the slave to plead for mercy longer than the winning Master, then the winning Master's prize of a further torture session with the slave, and have the right to fuck the slave.

Better still, the new winner would also receive a special torture session of the other Master, no holds barred.

Master Midas contemplated this for several moments while he caressed the slave's cock with the spike-covered palm of his hand, lightly scraping at first while he traced his fingertips all over the slave's balls.

Amazing what poison ivy and cinnamon can do...

He bit his lip to keep from chuckling aloud when the slave had the audacity to plead for the whip. Based on his performance earlier, Master Midas had no doubt the slave would prefer the lash to this. Every single slave he'd ever tortured with the oil and gloves pleaded for their favorite torture at this point.

Oh, you'll taste the lash again, Master Midas thought, But believe me, when you do you'll wish it was anything else.

Finally, Master Midas removed his hands. He stood up. He went to the wall beside him, and picked out a thick braided single-tail leather whip. He walked back over to the slave and reached back. He swung hard.

whooo-CRACK!

The slave stopped moving in anticipation.

Nothing happened.

Master Midas smiled to himself and moved a few steps to the right.

whooo-CRACK!

The slave's muscles tensed, but he remained still.

Nothing.

Master Midas walked around, and every few steps, he'd slash the air.

After he'd made a complete circle, Master Midas brought the whip low enough to have the slave feel the air of the swinging whip. Again and again, Master Midas took his time making his rounds, and the slave remained still.

Master Midas stood close to the slave and slashed the air again...

At the same time the slave felt only the air of the whip, Master Midas reached down with his free hand and squeezed the slave's balls.

It wasn't a tight squeeze, but enough to cause pain. And the squeeze only lasted a second, if that. Master Midas released his grip as quickly as it had begun.

A few seconds later, he squeezed again, still lasting barely a second, with the most minor pain the slave could feel.

Master Midas set the whip on the floor and crouched down again. He caressed the slave's shaft with his fingertips, and after several moments, squeezed his cock. Like when he squeezed his balls, his squeeze caused minor pain and only lasted a second.

Over and over he squeezed his cock, never too harshly, and never for more than a second. But after ten squeezes, he began to masturbate the slave's cock as he squeezed and lightly released.

Oh, if only fucking machines were allowed... the agony would be unbearable by now...

Master Midas breathed softly and slowly as he tormented the slave's cock, and caressed his balls once more, this time with his palm.

Now I have you...

When Master Midas's grip eased on jason's cock, Master Midas squeezed jason's balls. It was tighter than before, and lasted a few seconds, rather than one, then he released his balls only to squeeze his cock in the same way.

Master Midas did this for only a few minutes, occasionally making his grip tighter and last longer.

At long last, Master Midas released his grip on both of them. He stood up and picked up the whip. He set it on the nearby table beside the other two flogging instruments he'd used.

Master Midas removed his gloves and set them on the table as well. He made a mental note to soak the handle of the braided whip if he intended to use it again, without gloves, but decided he'd have no problem putting the gloves on later. He wasn't finished with the slave's genitals yet anyway. Far, far from it.

Master Midas picked up a thermos from the table and shook it, swirling the liquid around. He flipped up the spout and brought it over to the slave.

The thermos was a heavy-duty one with long-lasting heat retention. Before teh slave had been brought to him, he'd poured boiling saltwater into it.

To let the slave taste what was to come, he poured a small amount on one tiny welt in the middle of his spine.