JustJJ
Governor
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.
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.