by Kevin H. Robnett
It started out small enough. A chat room on an obscure web page devoted to electronic domination. After a few innocuous questions and the differences of a man being dominated by a male or female, he was asked if his fantasies had ever strayed to domination. Over the course of a few weeks, he’d discussed this subject with his mysterious buddy, until one night an email waited for him.
Be at 500 West Marble on Saturday night. Leave all jewelry, accessories and keys in your unlocked car. Go to room 23. Remove each article of clothing and store it in the receptacle beside the door. Open drawer B-5 and wear the enclosed outfit. Once completed, log into the terminal as asj5243. Wait for further instructions.No name, no reply to. So Saturday night, hot with anticipation, Antonio found himself in room 23, taking off his clothes. The receptacle near the door had a very deep bottom, and each item fell too far down to retrieve. Once naked, he found the specific drawer on the far wall, one of a hundred covering the surface. It seems very small to Antonio, but without the ability to retrieve his old clothing, it was his only option.
Inside was a thin, white Speedo swimsuit, bright under the harsh lights of the room. Nothing else was in the drawer. A little panicked, Antonio tried the other drawers. None opened for him. Nervous, he stepped into the lycra suit, sliding over his tanned body until his package was snugly held by the material. He couldn’t help checking himself out in the floor to ceiling mirror on one of the walls. The bleached white contrasted nicely to his golden skin, his cock and balls nestled firmly
for anyone to see.
The terminal was against another wall, a screen and keyboard. He shivered, as images swirled into his head. Was there someone on the other side, reading his typed messages? Or something else. Or even no one? Quickly he logged in, waiting for something to appear on the screen other than his username. asj5243. Waiting. Waiting.
He tried opening the door, but it was locked. The drawers were too. He tried the receptacle again but there was nothing within reach. Frustrated, he turned back to the computer, to see text on the monitor.
Proceed out the door to your left. Enter Room 111. Follow the instructions once there. Do not deviate....and below it in flashing letters...
You are 2 minutes late.Room 111 was no larger than Room 23 and had only one piece of visible equipment. It looked like some type of old fashioned weighing machine. Two holes were in the middle of the flat base as well as another two in the column at abdominal level. Below it, inset in the column, was a large red button, flashing A large circle was held above the column by a thin shaft of metal from the ceiling. As he approached, he could see paper taped to the surface of the column.
Insert each hand into the corresponding hole at waist level. Insert each foot into the corresponding hole at the base. Insert head into upper circle and place neck against the bottom. Press flashing red button.
It was easy to slip his feet into the base
opening. His hands slid into the column holes. It was a minor stretch,
but he got his head through the circle. But how was he to press the
button with his extremities occupied?The flashing button reflected off his bright speedo. There was only one thing he could do, nudge it with his package. His face flushed in humiliation as he tried, and failed. His hands in front of him kept his body far enough away that he’d have to work to get close. The circle around his head didn’t make things easy. It took three tries, the final one accompanied with an animalistic grunt to ram his crotch into the button. But he did it.
Instantly, the circle tightened into a collar around his neck, choking him. The band gripped his wrists and ankles as the machine split in two, moving apart. His hands and feet spread as the two halves separated, his body moving in between them. The columns rose, until his hands were even with his shoulders. Within seconds, he was bound spread-eagled, his feet almost four feet apart and his arms straight out from his shoulder, his head, collared, jerked to the ceiling. And he couldn’t move a muscle.
He yelled, of course. The position was plenty painful. His inner thighs protested their treatment and his shoulders ached from the pressure. And he could barely breathe enough to scream. But no one came to investigate. No one came at all. And nothing happened.
He waited. Not like there was anything else to do. And waited. He thrashed in panic, but his body was too tightly restrained. And the bonds seemed unbreakable. He may have dozed, as time ceased to have any meaning.
There was a slight “thump” and some sort of padded arm slammed into his unprotected package. Pain shot up from his groin and he screamed, trying in vain to curl into a ball. But his bonds kept him spread...open...helpless. The pad racked him again and again, settling into a slow rhythm against his balls. Antonio cursed aloud, screaming for help and writhing in agony. No one came. No one interfered.
He was hoarse by the time the ball bashing stopped. Sobbing instead of screaming, he almost didn’t notice it quit. Dripping sweat, he cried with relief, praying he’d never have to go through that again. He jerked when the loud booming voice echoed in the room.
“Rule number one. All orders will be obeyed immediately and fully. Failure will result in punishment.
“Rule number two. You will speak only when spoken to. Unless asked a query for information, you will only speak the words ‘yes,’ ‘thank you’ and ‘Master’ unless ordered differently. All orders will be acknowledged with ‘yes, Master.’ All punishments will be acknowledge upon completion with ‘thank you, Master.’ Lying will result automatically in punishment.”
The room fell silent as the echos drifted away. Suddenly, the pad slammed into his nuts, hard. He screamed and futily fought the restraints. The pad hit again, and again. “Yes, sir!” he screamed in agony. “Yes, Master! Yes, Master! Please, Master!”
The pad stopped and the voice boomed. “Punishment level one is initiated for unauthorized words and failure to obey rule number two. Five minutes.”
The pad slid out of the way and a high powered stream of water slammed into his groin. The pad had brought a sharp level of pain that trailed off after each strike. This -- this was steady threshold of agony. Antonio screamed and pleaded, thrashing in his bonds to no avail. He begged anyone to stop this, to save him, promised them anything they wanted, anything he had to give them.
Five minutes ended, and Antonio was sobbing loudly. He prayed to God he’d never surfed the web, never got a hard-on thinking about being dominated. The pad slammed into his aching balls and he yelped and jerked.
“Punishment level two will be initiated for a second failure of the rules in three, two....”
Antonio racked his overwhelmed brain for a response to the blatant threat. Rule number one, rule number two. After the mechanical voice announced “one” and the pad moved away again, he remembered and scream, “Thank you, master! Thank you! Thank you, Master!”
He was spared more punishing water. Or whatever else level two meant. His chest heaved, glistening from the water droplets from the punishment as he gasped for breath around the tight collar. He was beginning to appreciate the still moments between the pain.
“Did you enjoy looking at yourself in the mirror, slave 5243?”
In front of Antonio, on the blank wall, was a video of him from Room 23, posing and looking at himself in the tight white Speedo. He played with the edges of the material, adjusting his package.
The pad slammed into his nuts, harder than before. Clenching his teeth, Antonio ground out “yes, Master,” guessing that was the only answer the voice wanted. Next, the screen showed his underwear photoshoot, excerpts from his workout video, lots of photos. All with skin showing.
“Do you
enjoy displaying your body for others to view, slave 5243?” The
questions kept coming, fast and furious. “Have you ever sucked a cock?
Have you ever kissed a guy? Who was your hottest costar on the soap? Do
you enjoy being in bondage in your movies?”He answered each one as they made a serpentine trail through his psyche. Finally, the voice stopped and Antonio sagged against his bonds. Several times, the pad had punished him, for not answering quickly enough or hesitantly. His balls still ached, a low level hum of pain.
“Slave 5243 is acceptable.” Instantly, the bonds released and Antonio dropped to the floor, unable to even stand. “Proceed to Room 155 and follow instructions.”
He had to crawl to the door. With effort, he managed to use the wall to stand. Every part of his body hurt. He opened to door and almost fell into the corridor. No way was he going to any place other than the exit. His car was still outside with the keys, unlocked. And walking around LA in a small speedo was a humiliation he’d live through. But the only door that would open for him was 155. And it was the desperation of starving to death in this hell that drove him through it. There was a table with some items and a note.
Remove all articles of clothing and place them in the receptacle by the door. You will place each item as instructed. You will not remove them without express permission. You will return home and wait to be contacted.
The cock cage was all metal and tight. And painful. It bit into his stiff cock and punished him for being erect. The dildo was big and each time he tried to expel it his balls were yanked. It kept jabbing his prostate every time he moved. His chest ached and his nipples were on fire. The collar held his head in the air as tears fell down his cheeks. He choked on the penis gag that filled his mouth, stretching his lips. He moaned around it as the cream in the speedo burned his skin, his genitals on fire. He rubbed futily against his car, trying to find relief. With his hands locked behind him, he could barely open the door, let alone drive himself home. And he couldn’t remove anything. All he could do was wait. Wait for whatever controlled him to notice. And tell him what to do next.
I mean...really! Who in their
right mind would
want to hurt this adorable, innocent bunny rabbit?
It makes no sense!!!