Show your Lines

“O Aphrodite, Intoxicating Goddess of Love. Please accept the sacrifice of my body to Your pleasure, to Your whims and fancy. I humbly surrender myself to Your use. Do with this most unworthy vessel what Your Magnificence desires. I patiently await Your coming.” The pale, smooth-skinned blonde youth flung his loincloth aside and bent his head in submission. His sun-bleached silken curls bobbed as his lashes swept down over his eyes, blue and sparkling like the clear pond that surrounded the marble-pillared shrine to the Goddess Aphrodite. His bright eyes closed, and his cock, erect and marble-like in its veined glory, strained toward the glowing hand of the deity who shimmered into solid form before him.

The youth trembled. A soft wind stirred. As he had been instructed, he stood motionless, hands at his sides, eyes downcast, cock full and hard. Aphrodite slipped two fingers under his chin and raised his face to meet her beneficent gaze. She smiled, sighed. A perfect youth. Golden hair. Body taut and firm. A sensuous mouth, parted and dewy with anticipation. An excellent ass. And a cock so big even a goddess might choke on it. She laughed, a soft tinkle of tiny bells. O, what Ares would do with such a cock. She admired his skills with his supplicants. There was a lovely, thick golden ring she had once seen him crown a particularly worthy young mortal’s member with… But she was losing focus.

The youth gazed, enraptured, into Aphrodite’s exquisite seafoam eyes. He moaned softly and Aphrodite offered the tiniest of nods in appreciation. She did adore being so adored. “May I serve you, my Goddess?” the youth murmured, and ran his perfect pink tongue over his full, ripe lips. Aphrodite read his mind easily, a light and arousing touch that brought her the knowledge that his offering was sincere, his willingness to submit absolute. Without speaking, she used her mind and her elegant, slender fingers to bring him to kneel before her. He moved with fluid grace as she raised her short, transparent gown, then brought his mouth to her perfect, shell-like vulva. He parted her light covering of soft blonde curls with his lips and nestled his mouth softly between her silken folds. Aphrodite tangled her fingers absently in his hair and pressed him to service. He lapped eagerly, and she basked for a moment in the warmth of his soft, wet tongue as the bright sun warmed her glowing flesh and streaked through her waist-length waves of shining, flaxen hair.

She breathed in deeply as he began to suck, and she smelled something amiss. He was more skilled than someone of his tender years should be. She frowned down at him as he expertly teased the hardening pink bud of her clitoris. Though he tried to look the part of a virgin, he was not. His mouth was too agile, and she could distinctly smell the knowledge of mortal woman on him. She tugged on his curls to pull his mouth from her and his eyes to hers. She made her glance smolder and burn for him—mortals loved being frightened, it heightened their arousal, and hers. “Youth, you come to your Goddess tainted.” It was not a question; Aphrodite spoke calmly, without emotion.

He met her gaze from his kneeling position—beseeched her with his eyes a moment before he spoke. “I humbly beg mercy, Great Goddess Aphrodite. I should never have tried to deceive You. You are right. I have lain with…women. I thought I would please You the better for the experience. I sought…I hoped….” He faltered.

“Speak, mortal. You have earned my wrath—and I do so dislike being angered.”

He shuddered, took a deep breath, let his obscenely long lashes drift down over his sensuous eyes. “I hoped to please You well enough to serve You…many times….”

“Prideful whelp,” Aphrodite snapped. “You wished for yourself a prize beyond your meager reckoning. I am a goddess, not some ignorant wench enamored of your weak mortal beauty. You hoped for a gift no mortal has ever earned, ever deserved. Foolish boy: it is true innocence I wish to sample when I come to your realm, not the reek and film of mortality that clings to you.” He remained still, sitting on his heels, eyes down, but not nearly as repentant as he should be. She inhaled again; damned if the youth was not still lying! “You have shared that whore’s body with men as well as women, have you not, youth?”

A gasp escaped before he could reign in his control. He looked up into the goddess’s magnificent eyes, now shining silver, unreadable. “I…” he began, then stopped, looked down again. His cock softened.

She rather pitied the little man. He was so proud, now so quickly ashamed. His mind easily yielded the information: three women, one man—all to gain experience to please his Goddess. She wished she cared more. His mouth was skilled. His body was magnificent, in its lean, toned way. He was a confection, a morsel to consume. Then why could she think only of the older man she saw in his mind, the one he had given himself to, roughly using the youth’s beautiful body to sate his appetites? Why did the image of Ares again appear in all his magnificence, whip cracking in his hand over the bodies of obedient young mortal men and women? She brought her mind back to the problem at hand. She sighed, a whisper of wind and sweetness no mortal or god could hear and not long to hear again.

“So, youth, what shall be done with you?” she asked, running a pale pink fingernail over her even white teeth.

He remained delightfully still and silent.

“Shall I take you, just as your mortal man did?”

He whimpered.

“Yes, I think that will suit your Goddess well. Present yourself for me, youth.”

He moved swiftly to all fours, shivering at a breeze that was too warm to bring a chill. Aphrodite noticed that his cock was again hard, all marble majesty. She laughed in her mind: no, she would not ease that ache for him. He had earned it. She let her gaze linger on that hardness another moment, used her mind to bring the sensation of a tongue licking the pre-cum from the tip. The youth moaned. An image of Ares’ cock suddenly loomed before her, with her mouth wet and parted before it and his large, firm hand in her hair, drawing her down. She shook her head, felt for compulsion. No, Ares’ mind was not in hers. The image was of her own devising, though entirely unbidden. What was wrong with her today?

Reigning in her disturbing imagination with a tight mental grip, she focused on the boy. She ran her fingers over his back and watched him shiver. She let her touch move to that perfect ass. He arched lightly into her hand, and she slapped him, hard. He winced, cried out softly. She wished she was enjoying this as much as he was. “Come, youth, show me what you did with that raven-haired man at that darkened stall in the marketplace last week. Use your fingers as he used his on you.”

He moved to obey, supporting himself on one lithely muscled arm and reaching the other beneath himself.

“Wait,” Aphrodite beckoned. “Allow me.” She bent before him, luxurious cleavage making his mouth water as he looked up at the Goddess of all of his dreams and fantasies. She sucked gently on his fingers, first one, then two. He groaned softly. She caught an image in her mind of him masturbating in his bed at night, stroking his thick, oiled cock with a firm hand. As he stroked, he was thinking of her…on all fours, serving him! Impudent, impossible mortal! Then why did the image make her suck harder on his fingers? Why was her golden pussy wet and swelling? Surely she did not want to be used so. She let his fingers quickly slip from her mouth, and stood up, proud and statuesque, as befitted the Goddess of Love. She watched him carry his slick fingers to his anus, rub there in small circles.

Ah, yes, that was better. Sit back and watch the show. Enjoy her power. She made a small golden throne appear—ornate and shining, in the feminine style associated with her—and sat, crossing her legs delicately over one scrolled arm. A marble phallus appeared in her hand. She smiled at the toy she formed from the air. It looked exactly like the youth’s cock.

The youth began to finger his ass, arching into his deft fingers, cock straining blindly beneath him, craving her touch. Not today, little one, though Aphrodite. Today is for obedience. “Bring that whore’s ass to your Goddess, youth,” she said, calmly. He removed his fingers and came to her on his hands and knees. “Good boy,” she cooed, as she slipped the marble cock into his mouth. He sucked it obediently, and she casually enjoyed pumping his mouth. Her mind wandered again, imagining herself in the youth’s position, sucking that cold, hard phallus while Ares moved behind her, all power and fluid muscle, grabbing her trim, supple hips in his warm, meaty hands and…

Damn! Enough is enough, she thought, taking the toy from the youth’s mouth. Time to show this youth who was the immortal. Time to remind herself. “Let me see that pretty little mortal ass you shared with others when you were supposed to be saving it for your Goddess.” She spanked him again as he moved into position, two hard slaps. She watched his golden cheeks redden, admired the downy hair there, his heavy balls, his supple back arching to expose his vulnerable asshole. He offered a beautiful view of the best mortal man had to offer. She caressed his ass. Such a sight was rare for her: rarely did she have to show her dominance so clearly with mortal men. They were generally an eager lot, especially the youths who sweetly and humbly offered her their virginity. Even the older men she visited at whim—what a treat it was to stun them with her glowing beauty as she drifted into their dreams, wakened them lightly, and rode their hard cocks to orgasm—all served her fully and obediently. But this mortal, this boy, offered a challenge. And she was up to it.

While her graceful fingers gently traced ancient patterns on his flesh, she brought the phallus to his anus. She teased him with it, heard his breath escape with a rush, heard a rumbled groan begin deep within him. She felt in his mind for his arousal and used it to fuel hers. “Surrender yourself to me, youth,” she whispered. “Give me your body and your will. Yield to my control.” His body relaxed as she pressed and twisted the marble toy into his tight hole. He moaned quietly, his mind hummed with pleasure and need. She began to fuck him with long, deep, hard strokes that made him dizzy and shattered conscious thought.

She suddenly became aware of a deep-throated laugh in her mind. It was certainly not coming from her submissive mortal. It had a confidence and power he was incapable of. The husky laugh was a gentle caress of pleasure, a taunting, playful smile in her mind. It moved her, somehow, reached her in a way the youth alone did not. Someone was watching her and enjoying himself. She reached out mentally, seeking the mind behind the teasing chuckle. Who else: Ares.

She pumped the phallus faster into the youth’s tight ass, then slipped her other hand around to cup and toy with his balls. His whole body tensed and his mind became wild. He had not expected more than to be roughly used. The laughter in Aphrodite’s mind found a harsher edge as her cool fingers moved to wrap loosely around the youth’s shaft. Then the strong voice of Ares, God of War, was in her mind. “Is this how you display your mastery, sweet Aphrodite? He was just beginning to lose hope that he would find satisfaction at your hands. You are too soft, too merciful. ”

“How dare you, Ares, you cocky son-of-Hera! He is my servant, not yours”, Aphrodite snapped, pushing out her deliciously full, moist bottom lip. She felt the image of Ares biting it, hard. “Stop!” she gasped.

The laugh in her mind was full, throaty. “But dear, delectable Aphrodite, why would you want a servant when you can have a” slave”?”

“You’re impossible. Get out of my mind and let me finish this.”

“”Finish this”? If that is the most arousal you can muster, precious Goddess, perhaps you had better leave the domination to those who know how to handle it…and enjoy it.”

“Goddess?” the youth whimpered, turning his head and tentatively raising his eyes to Aphrodite’s. She had stopped touching him as she argued with Ares.

“Damn”, she thought, and began to ride that pretty little ass with the marble rod again, harder and faster. The youth gasped and bent his head again. “Do you like that, youth? Serving your Goddess with your…servitude?” Aphrodite suppressed a yawn. She could not even be bothered to be clever. What was wrong with her? She pumped the phallus harder. The youth groaned, and she smiled to herself then, but her wrist began to fatigue, so she gave the driving over to magic and rested her hands in her lap. The youth was facing away from her; he’d never know it was not her hand that used him.

And Ares was back, fully in her mind, laughing gently at her. “Poor Aphrodite…”, he teased. She felt his hand weaving through her hair, caressing her softly. The contrast between the nasty voice and gentle hand aroused her, despite herself.

“No!” she snapped. “I do not need help from the likes of you…depraved one.” But her words were unconvincing—or, rather, “depraved” sounded more like an endearment than an insult.

“Sweetness—let me help you with this mortal.” His mind touch was soothing, and she felt his hand on hers, moving to swat the youth, hard, on his upturned ass. Then again. The mortal was shocked but loving it; Aphrodite could feel it in her mind. His adrenaline flooded her mind, and she felt energized and excited. “See, darling Aphrodite, Ares knows just how to please you both.” His voice coaxed and she felt the soft brush of fingertips on her nipples through the filmy gauze of her short gown.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them wide as she felt her hand slap the youth’s ass again just as sharp teeth seemed to nip at her left nipple. She drew her breath in sharply. She shook her head to clear it.

“Stand before him, Aphrodite; let him see your awesome glory,” Ares enticed.

Without meaning to, her body drifted upwards, until she was standing in front of the youth’s face. Her hand went to his hair and pulled his face up with one hand while the other raised her gown again, his warm breath on her glistening triangle of pale-gold curls. The phallus still rode him hard, though he did not seem to notice that no hand controlled it. She pressed his face again to service, and basked in the skill of his warm tongue.

“Oh yes,” Ares moaned softly, “you like it just like that, do you not, my hungry Goddess?”

Aphrodite gave herself up to the pleasure for a moment. Then she struggled to regain control over her body from Ares. She pulled back on the youth’s hair and freed herself from his probing tongue. Why had she given in so easily to Ares’ silken commands? “Damn you to Hades, Ares! The youth is mine—and I am no one’s!”

“As you wish, dearest Goddess of Love,” the God of War replied, drifting back to the edge of her mind.

“Lie before me,” Aphrodite commanded the youth.

He obeyed, instantly, phallus still filling him but still now. Her mind brought vines to bind his wrists and ankles, but it must have been Ares who added those that swiftly twined across his chest and hips and over his forehead. Aphrodite wanted to protest, but she stopped herself: she liked the way he looked all trussed up and waiting for her. The youth held his breath, eyes wide and staring up into the Goddess’s for reassurance, for comfort. He found none in the icy gaze that roamed his body possessively.

She bent before him then, a swift fluid motion that brought her mouth to his chest. She bit him hard, leaving perfect even little teeth marks in his soft skin. She moved a few inches over and bit harder, drawing a dot of blood and causing the mortal to wince as a guttural moan escaped him. Grabbing his jaw tightly in her long fingernails, she whispered, darkly, “Be silent, youth, and serve me.” Then she brought her teeth to his nipples and bit, sharply. When he winced again but was silent, biting his lips to restrain himself, she felt Ares groan in her mind. Arousing the God should not have been a concern to her, but she could not help smiling.

Having caused pain, she now soothed the youth with pleasure, swirling her warm, wet tongue across his bitten nipple, down his chest, and over his firm stomach. When she reached his cock—velvet over marble, he released his breath in a harsh rush. Her gleaming pussy hovered before his mouth as she lapped at him, licked up the length of him until she reached his head, then bit it as she ground her taste-of-heaven into his waiting mouth. Writhing in small circles, she sat up and leaned on his bound chest, leaving his cock bereft and straining. She felt Ares shift and moan in response. She grinned and encouraged both of her men, purring, “That’s right, little one, serve your Goddess, make your offering with all you have and all you are.” She rode him harder then, making it hard for him to breathe; he wriggled against his bonds, but to no avail. “Ah, youth, you are mine,” she cooed, rocking her head back and riding him to climax. She moaned softly as she felt Ares tongue drag softly across her breasts and up her pale throat. “Yes, worship me, too, God of War.”

When she was sated, she rose to her knees and slid back a bit, admiring the youth’s dazed expression. He had sampled the nectar of the Goddess and was drunk with it, lost in bliss. He seemed surprised when he tried to rise and found himself still tightly bound. He had no idea how long he’d been lying there: hours? minutes? Aphrodite slapped his half-erect cock to rouse him. He gasped, blinked hard and looked up into her eyes, now raging fire instead of ice. He hardened instantly, and she gave him a mirthless smile in response. “Very nice, little one. Now let us see if your Goddess cannot put that to good use.” She let the phallus begin to ride him gently again, short strokes, in and out. His breath quickened, as did Ares’, still hovering in her mind.

Slipping further back, she brought herself down hard and fast on the youth’s stiff member. Lifting off, she impaled herself again, then again, holding his eyes, gaze locked to hers. “Do you like being fucked by your Goddess, mortal?” she asked.

He could not speak for a moment as she drove her swollen velvet sheath down over him, relentlessly. “Speak,” she commanded.

“Y…yes, O…Mighty…Goddess…of…Love…” he whispered in time with her rhythm, ready to cum with only those few strokes of her divine cunt.

“Good boy.” She rode on, bringing herself taut with pleasure again. “Ah, yes, fuck him, my beautiful, wanton Aphrodite,” she heard Ares mutter. She laughed softly to herself, rode the youth with Ares in her mind. She felt in her mind for Ares’ pleasure, and realized his fingers were inside her…no, not her, a mortal woman. She was livid. How dare he toy with another while watching her? Was she a plaything to be used so?

She leaned forward and dug her nails into the youth’s chest. She fucked him mercilessly, holding his mind to keep his climax at bay again and again. She could have commanded it, but she could feel that he had no more resistance in him, little control. Ah, these mortals, she laughed to herself, giving herself up to the driving rhythm that brought her closer and closer to climax. She felt Ares’ cock harden as his fingers plunged into the mortal woman’s pussy as she knelt in obedience before him. He groaned again, and Aphrodite arched and shattered around the cock inside her.

Generous as the Goddess of Love always is, she gave the youth back his control as she ground slowly over him, muscles contracting and milking his climax from him. Soon, he came with a hoarse cry. Aphrodite smiled indulgently, then lifted up again and, once more, brought her soft nether lips to his open mouth and pressed down. “Clean me of your mortal fluids, youth” she murmured as he obeyed without hesitation. He was hers entirely, used for her pleasure as was her right and duty as a Goddess. His lips were soft, his tongue warm and soothing, gentle and eager. His cock was flaccid now, and though he tried to comply, his mind began to drift into sleep. Aphrodite shook her head with a grin.

“I”m sorry. Did I say something amusing?” Staring at her with a determined solemn demeanor, she quickly realized that, in fact, I was completely serious.

“No . . . Master.” She murmured softly.

“Very good.” I mimicked her earlier behavior.

She smiled nervously.

After a few moments of silence, I decided to step the game up a notch.

“Tina, do you like to pleasure yourself? Do you ever masturbate?”

“Are you kidding? Hell yes . . . uh . . .Master.” She quickly caught herself.

“Good. Show me.”

“What? But what if someone . . .”

Again, I flashed her one of my dramatic glances, raising my eyebrow slightly.

“She quickly jumped to atone for her mistake. “Yes, Master.”

Glancing nervously around the vehicle, she realized that we were surrounded by half a dozen vehicles. They were all far enough away in the darkness that none could see what she was doing, but if any of them tried to pass me, they would see everything.

Reclining the seat backwards, she stretched herself out, spreading her legs as far as they would go in the floorboard, and with one final glance at me, lifted her dress up above her hips. I was pleased to see that she had elected not to wear any panties. In addition she had shaved her pussy.

Slowly she began rubbing her fingers along the smooth, bare skin surrounding her clit. A soft moan escaped her lips as she lost her inhibitions and gave in to her own needs. Gently, one finger snaked its way in between her lips and easily slid inside, sending chills up her spine and causing her to shiver on the cold leather seat. A few more strokes of her finger, and she withdrew her sticky finger. Raising it to her lips, she sucked noisily at her slimy digit.

Spreading her legs wider, she used her free hand to spread the lips wide, and again returned the slick finger to her pussy. Rubbing the saliva into the bright pink flesh, she breathed a deep sigh, throwing her head back against the seat. Then, once again, she forced her finger deep inside, this time pushing it all the way in, until her palm rested against her pelvis.

It was at this time that Tina noticed the semi-truck that had pulled up beside our own vehicle. Turning to me, she licked her lips hungrily, and hiked her leg up onto the dashboard. Her finger quickly assumed a furious rhythm, her palm slapping against her pussy on each thrust. A few thrusts later and she arced her back up, off the seat, whining loudly.

Once her spasms had subsided, she lowered herself back onto the seat, and waved towards the truck, blowing them a sweat kiss. This was followed by a loud, resounding blast of the trucker”s horn, which trailed off as I sped on towards our destination.

Soon I found the exit off of the freeway and entered the bright lights of the city. Tina surprised me rather pleasantly, leaving her dress up around her hips for the entire remainder of the drive, smiling contentedly at the stunned stares of fellow drivers everywhere.

v I quickly veered the car into our assigned parking space in hotel parking lot, and walked over to Tina”s door, opening it for her and leading her hand-in-hand to the hotel room. Upon locking the door, I turned to find Tina standing nose-to-nose with me and her hand upon my crotch.

“Come on James, what do you say? Care to show me what my sister finds so impressive about you.”

Slowly I lowered my gaze to my crotch and her hand. “You presume too much my sweet. And I told you. You will refer to me as Master.”

The look of shock in her eyes was clearly evident, as I laid her out upon the bed, her face pressed into the pillows and her ass poised in the air. With one smooth motion, my hand cracked against her bare bottom, forcing a shrill scream from her perfect lips.

“What”s my name?”

“James!” she said, the confusion of her situation still evident.

Again my hand whistled through the air, landing firmly against her backside.

“What”s my name?”

“Uh . . uh . . .Master?”

For a third time my hand connected with flesh, forming a deep red mark on her ass.

“What”s . . . My . . .Name?”

“Master! Master! I swear to God I won”t screw up again.”

Raising my hand, I prepared to strike again. But I didn”t. She had learned her lesson.

With a deep sigh, she lowered her self to the bed and released the tension in every fiber of her being. Calmly and comforting, I leaned forward and kissed her deeply on the lips, and using a scarf that I had found in the backseat of her sister”s car, I tied her wrists to the bedposts.

Frantically, she struggled against the tight bonds, lashing out at me and cursing my name.

“This is just to make sure that you stay loyal to my uncle until the big day tomorrow.” And with a sly grin across my face, I walked out of the room and nestled into the front seat of Alice”s car and waited for morning to come.

The following days events went off without a hitch, considering the fact that Alice and Tina both had dresses to adorn, once they were both in the dressing room, it was a simple matter to make the switch.

And I didn”t hold anything against Alice, either. After all, she”d only been trying to give her sister one last wild ride.

And I don”t think she”d ever forget her car ride and the simple pleasure of her own wedding finger.

The position was not comfortable. Maggie walked around me then stepped back into my line of vision and asked me if I was “comfy”. I didn’t respond, so she took hold of my cock, which was growing larger, in spite of my wishes, and began to stroke it. Her stroke was gentle, but it contained a firmness of grip that told me she knew exactly what she was doing.

My cock responded to her caresses. Once it was fully erect, she abandoned it and began to work on my nipples. She teased them with her fingernails, then, pinching savagely, let me know how easy it was for her to hurt me. My “Owwww!” seemed to please her and she released the tender nubs while she looked me directly in the eyes.

“I think you are finally beginning to understand your situation. Well, good. You’ve got lots of time to appreciate it.”

“Now,” she said, sweetly. “The first thing we’re going to do is see how far we can stretch your balls.” She brought forward a four-foot length of thin nylon clothesline, halved it, then made a loop at its center by pulling the loose ends back through. She placed the loop around the base of my testicles, above the balls and below the penis, and pulled it snug. She then took the loose ends, threaded them together between my testicles, and pulled them back through the loop around my balls, separating them very tightly. She gave the loose ends a firm tug, demonstrating that pulling on them created more pressure, and, correspondingly, more pain for my balls.

“Those poor little things are starting to get a little purple, already. I don’t think he’s going to enjoy this very much,” commented yesterday’s victim, who was watching my reactions very closely.

One of the girls produced a yellow plastic pail; the handle of which she tied to the loose ends of the clothesline that separated my balls. Allowing the pail to hang free, they seemed pleased to note that it was suspended about eight inches above the ground. The pail didn’t weigh very much, but even its slight burden was noticeable to my tethered balls. I was pretty sure this was going to get very unpleasant, very quickly, and the girls rapidly proved me correct. The tension on my balls, along with the knowledge that things could easily be put into the pail to make it heavier, had me nervously anticipating their next move. My cock was still semi-erect in spite of my fear, or perhaps, because of it!

“How much weight do you think your balls can support?” Maggie asked, with a smirk. I didn’t respond, just looked up at the rope holding my wrists high above my head. “Water is reasonably heavy, so let’s just find out. Ladies, let’s have some water.”

While yesterday’s blonde victim was filling a pail with water from the creek, the other three amused themselves by playing with my naked body. One of them pinched my nipples and ran her hand lightly up and down my chest and belly. Another seemed to be checking my buttocks for firmness. Maggie held my cock in her left hand while, looking directly into my eyes, she gently scraped a sharp fingernail all over its sensitive head. The combination of stimulation was pretty overwhelming and my sexual excitement was very obvious. I was almost relieved when the pretty blonde returned with her pail half-filled with water. It looked very heavy.

“A gallon of water weighs about six pounds,” Maggie commented with a smile. “That bucket we’ve suspended from your balls will hold two gallons. I’m not really sure you can take twelve pound tied to your balls. That’s a lot of weight to suspend from those tender little eggs. What do you think?”

I wasn’t given a chance to reply. The blonde tilted her pail over the one hanging from my balls and let the water begin to fill it. The increased weight was immediately uncomfortable. I began to feel a dull ache deep in my testicles. She stopped after putting about a half-gallon in my pail and they all watched my reactions as the pail swung tautly between my legs. At a signal from Maggie, the blonde poured what was left in her pail into mine. I could feel the rope separating my balls tighten from the pull of the additional weight. I was starting to get scared!

“That’s about six pounds,” Maggie said. “How does it feel now?” She raised a perfectly formed bare foot and gave the pail a little nudge with her toes, causing it to swing forward and back between my legs in a gentle arc. Each swing seemed to tighten the rope a bit more, causing my cock to bob around like it had a mind of its own.

“I don’t think I can take any more!” I pleaded. “Please. Get that thing off me before I really get damaged!” That brought a couple or giggles from the girls. They were really enjoying this!

“Don’t be such a baby,” Maggie replied, with a soft smile. “I’m sure a fine physical specimen such as yourself can handle more than a mere six pounds. I think we need some more water.” This last was to the little blonde, who hurried to the stream with her empty pail.

Maggie gently stroked my cock, looking directly into my eyes. “I told you we wouldn’t do you any damage, didn’t I? Don’t you trust me?” I decided to remain quiet, just hoping that she really knew what she was doing.

The blonde was back quickly with the pail that was, once again, about half full of water. She looked at Maggie expectantly and, receiving a nod, began to pour more water into my pail, stopping only when things reached the point that I was certain my testicles were about to burst or, even worse, be torn from my body.

Maggie examined the pail and strummed the taut clothesline between it and my balls several times, almost like a harp’s string. Almost absently, she gave it another nudge with her toes, sending it into a soft arc that was causing me agony. “That’s about ten pounds,” she said. “I guess that’s about all he can take, ladies. Let’s see how he handles that for a while.”

They gathered around me and amused themselves by teasing and tormenting my stretched out body with their hands. When I was unable to resist reacting to their fingers digging into my sides, they were delighted at my ticklishness. I struggled to remain as still as a statue, so that the pail pulling my balls would hurt as little as possible, but their fingernails in my ribs and armpits soon had me jumping around as much as my tight bondage would permit. Each sudden movement, of course, led to immediate pain in my tethered balls. I was pleading for mercy between my ticklish laughs when Maggie finally told them to stop.

“OK, ladies, let’s give him a little rest, now. We don’t want to break our toy before we’ve had all our fun.” She lifted the pail that was torturing me and poured its heavy contents onto the ground in front of me. My relief was immediate, though I suspected the dull ache in my balls would not subside for some time.

They gathered around me and Maggie, again, began stroking my softening cock, which quickly reacted to her caresses.

“He’s got a very nice body.” I heard from one of my tormenters.

“Like the song says, we’ve only just begun,” this from Maggie. Wait until he feels the clips!”

One of the other girls spoke up at this time, something about enjoying the sight of my cock swinging in the breeze. She finished her comments with a request to “get into high gear.”

“I think it’s time to see how he likes our little whips.” Maggie’s voice again, and very scary.

“A new tie, though,” from the blonde victim of yesterday.

“Yes, let’s work between his legs,” said the redhead.

I wanted to ask them what they had already been doing, if not working between my legs, but discretion got the better part of valor, and I remained silent.

They released me from my bonds and allowed me to rest a few minutes on the ground, at their feet, while they removed the stakes from the earth and put the ropes away. I really wanted to fondle and examine my balls to see if there was any damage to them, but was too embarrassed to do so with them watching.

My rest was brief. Maggie briskly ordered me to my feet and, using cuffs that came from a large box nearby handcuffed my wrists together in front of me. The cuffs fit snugly but not tightly enough to pinch my skin. Next, a pair of sturdy thumbcuffs was produced from the box and was placed on my big toes, locking my feet closely, and implacably, together. Then Maggie took a very long piece of thin nylon clothesline and doubled it at the midpoint. She placed the loose ends of the line through the midpoint loop, around my waist, drawing it uncomfortably tight, with the loose ends hanging down from near my navel. She then brought the free ends down my lower belly to my genitals and drew them back between my legs, passing one loose end around either side of my genitals. The thin ropes came back together behind my balls, nesting snugly in the crack of my ass. The ends were then drawn up behind me and, at the small of my back, passed through the loop around my waist. Maggie then directed me to raise my handcuffed wrists above my head. When I complied, she passed the ends under the short chain connecting the cuffs, then drew the ends over the same tree limb above my head. When the girls began pulling the rope over the limb, my hands were drawn up over my head b the rope between the cuffs and the thin ropes were snugged deeply, and painfully, into the cleft between my buttocks. They drew the rope up until I was on my tiptoes, with the thumbcuffs preventing me from any kicking about or other unusual leg movement. The ropes that felt like they were cutting me in half between my legs were supporting almost my entire weight. They finally tied it off so I was just able to reach the ground with my toes, but I was unable to make any movement, at all, without causing myself intense pain.

They all gathered closely around me, enjoying my reaction to this very creative bondage. The ropes pressing tightly on either side of my cock and balls were having an effect on me. Once again, in spite of my fear, my cock was growing erect. I tried to grasp the rope above my head, with my cuffed hands, hoping to take some of my weight off the rope between my legs, but it was too thin for me to gain any benefit. My hands simply slipped off its surface.

“Get the whips!” This was Maggie’s voice.

“Yeah. That’s what we need.”

“The whips” turned out to be four very thin and very nasty looking riding crops. Each of the girls took one and began taking turns slashing at my naked body. I was unable to move around very much because the nylon clothesline drawn up into my ass was so painful. All I could do was dangle there in front of them and take it.

The crops were thin enough that they didn’t break my skin, but they stung like fire every time they made contact with my naked skin. They began by concentrating their blows to my buttocks and thighs but, when they saw how sharply I reacted to cuts across my chest and belly, they made sure at least half of their strikes were across my front. The combination of the savage crops and the rope between my legs that sawed into me soon had me in a fog-like daze of pain and pleasure. I began to understand why the greatest fear of Indian captives was to be turned over to the squaws. These girls were really enjoying themselves!

Maggie called a halt to the whipping, then really got my attention when she dug into the box and brought out some wooden, pinch-type clothespins. She showed them to me, then began placing them on my cock.

“You’ll appreciate this,” she said. “They hurt when they go on, but they hurt a lot worse when they come off.” She put several of them on both sides of my cock, then placed several more on the very sensitive tip. They hurt, all right, but when she began flicking them with her forefinger they felt like wasp stings on the most sensitive parts of my body! They all seemed fascinated by the sight of the clothespins dangling from my penis, which was very erect in spite of the pain. After a few minutes, however, my worst fears were realized.

I heard Maggie say “OK, ladies, why don’t you use those crops to take those clothespins off!”

They delighted in following her suggestion and, when they started to whip my cock with their crops, I almost lost it They slashed at the clothespins savagely, trying to make them disconnect.

Each slash of a crop was like a line of fire across my genitals. Every move I made to try to avoid the pain caused the thin nylon rope to cut deeper into my crotch. There was no escape…I was dancing like a puppet at the end of a slim white cord!

It seemed an eternity before they had finished whipping the clothespins off my cock. I was sure I was bleeding profusely, but a downward glance revealed no blood, just a very red cock and balls.

The scary part was that I was still enormously erect in spite of the pain! The girls were really enjoying my situation. They each took a turn at stroking my cock, making certain I wasn’t given enough stimulation to have an orgasm. The little blonde who had been the victim yesterday was particularly vicious, delighting in pinching my nipples savagely with one hand while pumping away at my very sore cock with the other.

After what seemed forever, they seemed to agree that I was ready for some sort of different treatment. They released me from the rope between my legs, removed the handcuffs from my wrists and the thumbcuffs from my toes, and allowed me another brief rest. I was relieved, and a little surprised, to discover no blood running down my legs.

Much sooner than I would have wished, they led me over to one of the sturdy picnic tables. It was the one that had been covered with a blanket…to prevent splinters, I guessed, but I wasn’t given much time to contemplate that fact. I quickly found myself bound spread-eagled to the four corners of the table. I was face up and stretched as tightly as they could manage. I was beginning to wonder if I wouldn’t have been better off to let them do whatever they wanted with the videotape. My continuing, and very visible, sexual excitement, however, made me realize I was just kidding myself. I would let them do almost anything to me, if only they would give me an orgasm, or two!

“It’s time for you to feel a little heat,” Maggie whispered into my ear, casually stroking my cock. It was getting rock-hard again, to my horror. “First, we’re going to apply a little bit of hot candle wax to some of your more sensitive places…then we’re gonna take it off. Sounds like fun, huh? First, though, we’ve got to try to make sure your cock stays as hard as possible for this procedure. This ought to help.” She produced a short length of the thin rope, tied it tightly around the base of my genitals, and then used the ends to wrap around and tightly separate my balls before tying them off. “There. Things ought to stay pretty tight and firm with that. Hmmm. Your balls are getting purple, again. Does this hurt?”

“This” was a sharp fingernail, digging into my taut left testicle. My gasp of pain gave her the answer she wanted.

She then brought out and lit a white candle that appeared to be about a half-inch thick and about eight inches long. She carefully began to drip the burning wax from the candle onto my nipples. It was very hot, and she was holding the candle only about two inches above my chest as she dripped the wax. I struggled against the ropes, but they were expertly tied. I was going nowhere until I was released!

I soon realized that coating my nipples with wax was to be the least of it. After my nipples were generously covered, she began to slowly cover the shaft of my cock. This was very painful, particularly because she was holding the candle so close to my flesh. The other girls were watching my reactions closely and they seemed almost stunned by the violence of my struggles against my bonds.

Once the shaft was covered, the worst (I thought) began. Maggie began to drip the burning wax slowly onto the head of my cock. The rope around the base of my cock kept me erect, but I wasn’t sure I could handle much more of this. Hot wax from two inches above the most sensitive part of an erect penis is very scary stuff. Each drip felt like a hot needle through my flesh.

When she finished covering the head of my cock and began to drip the wax on my tightly tied balls, I yelled aloud, much to the delight of my audience. The scrotal sac is covered with very thin skin! I was sure I was being blistered with each and every drip of wax!

She finally finished her painful work, leaving me trembling with relief, and with my nipples and genitals completely covered with the now hard wax. I thought the worst might be over. Silly me!

“Here’s your big chance, Bill,” Maggie said. “We’ve got to take this wax off you, so we might as well have some fun in the process. Each of us is going to take off our thong and crawl up there on top of you. You are going to try to bring us to an orgasm. We’ll be facing your cock, with our sweet little pussies right over your mouth. You’ll be able to reach our clits with your tongue, if you try, real hard! Make each one of us come, with your tongue, and the rest of this session will be very easy for you. Oh, I forgot to mention that, while you are trying to get us off with your tongue, we’ll be removing the wax from your cock and balls with this…”

“This” turned out to be an automotive test probe, about six inches long, that looked like a screwdriver but had a very sharp point. The sharp point, she explained matter-of-factly, was ideal for removing hard wax from sensitive places, a fact she demonstrated by carefully removing the wax from my nipples. It hurt a great deal. Each small piece of wax she flicked away required her to dig the sharp point of the probe into the tender skin beneath the wax. I could only imagine how bad it would be when they started working on my cock and balls.

Maggie was the first to mount me, of course. She removed her thong and positioned herself with her knees on either side of my chest, facing my genitals, so that, as promised, I could reach up with my straining tongue and stimulate her clitoris. This was a task I was more than happy to undertake! She tasted sweet and warm, and her body reacted immediately to my efforts. Torturing me must have really gotten her turned on! She tried to resist her reactions by digging sharply into my cock and tightly stretched balls with the probe, and she did slow me down somewhat. That thing was sharp! In less than five minutes, however, she came vigorously, with loud shuddering sobs. The watching girls were hushed as she finished and I hoped my excellent efforts might have earned me a reprieve. They recovered quickly, however, and argued briefly about whose turn it was to go next!

Each of them, in turn, climbed on the table and presented a soft, warm pussy to me. I was able to lick and suck their clits and, finally, brought each of them to a climax, but while I was doing that, they used the sharp screwdriver probe to remove every speck of the wax from my cock and balls. I tried to maintain my concentration, but the pain of having a sharp instrument digging into the head of my cock was more than I could bear. After what seemed an eternity of agony, the last of them was spent and my cock and balls were clean of the wax.

In spite of all the things that had been done to me, I was still enchanted by Maggie. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with a demeanor that caused me to be sexually excited, just by being in her presence. Having her “playing” with me was incredibly stimulating, in spite of the pain she inflicted.

“You’ve shown you can take a lot,” she whispered into my ear. “We’re going to make you come, now. Are you ready for that?”

“Yes! Please, please, make me come!”

“You may regret that request.”

“I don’t care. Please make me come!”

“You heard him, ladies. Let’s get him off.”

I should have been warned by the giggles.

She untied the rope around my cock and balls and discarded it, then produced a bag full of white, plastic clothespins. They were the type that had serrations in the pinching ends, to create a positive grip, a fact she pointed out by placing one in front of my concerned eyes and opening and closing it slowly. She began carefully placing them around the ridge on the head of my cock. Each of them created its own special kind of pain as they were applied. When she was done, there were ten of them, tightly gripping the ridge. She gave my cock mild shaking, causing the pins to bounce around merrily. The pain was exquisite!