“I think so,” he replied.
“Good. But first we have to clear the playing field. We’re only allowed one climax per station, and much of the fun is seeing what turns you on.” He suddenly drove his thumbs up into Faranger’s groin, on either side of testicles. The pain was intense. He involuntarily cried out and his erection rapidly faded.
“There we go. Now we can start fresh.” He handed Faranger a thin leather belt. “Please put this on. Not too high, over your hip bones. The other piece needs to reach.”
Faranger put the belt around his hips and fastened it. The moderator stepped back and regarded him thoughtfully. “Yes, that looks good. Don’t you find that you feel all the more naked with just that belt on? Well? You must answer!”
“Yes, you’re right.” Faranger was experiencing ever heightened sexual tension. How could it be that being in the power of this smarmy man affect him this way? But there was no doubt that it did. His pelvis spasmed and the man noticed, and gave him a knowing look.
“OK. Now please attach this.” He handed Faranger the other device. It had a leather dowel-like piece about three inches long with three thin straps attached to one end. Velcro strips were attached to each end so that if folded over they could be closed in a loop. The device was lubricated. Blood was flowing to Faranger’s genitals at the prospect of what he was being asked to do. He reached behind himself, bent over a little bit and inserted it into his rectum. He was tender from the earlier station, but the salve and the lotion made it tolerable, and the pain soon turned to another erotic thrill. The moderator gave him a slight quizzical, but knowing smile. He was telling Faranger that even these intimate sensations were not private. Next, he took one of the straps and threaded it under the belt in back. He pulled it snug and pressed the velcro together. Finally he bent his knees and spread them so that he could thread the other two straps up either side of his testicles and attach them to the belt in front. He had a strong, disturbing sense that the onlookers knew exactly how those that plug and those straps felt. He had no secrets and that caused more swelling and visible spasms.
The moderator gave him an assessing look and shifted the front straps so they came straight up instead of at an angle. His knuckles brushed Faranger’s penis and lingered in his pubic hair. He grinned. “Like suspenders! Don’t you see? Much better.” Then he tightened the straps to remove the slight slack he had created. Farnager’s testicles were drawn together, and left in an unnatural position. The moderator tightened the velcro then pressed his fingers against the plug, as if adjusting it. To Faranger’s dismay, his penis came half way to an erection.
“Now, please put this on.” He produced a lined collar with studs in it. It was hinged and open. Faranger placed it around his neck and pushed the ends together until they clicked. The click caused a thrill up and down his torso.
“OK, now please mount the podium over there.” Faranger turned to face a low podium, no more than a foot high, with a step in back. He approached it when the moderator said, “Stop a minute. Let us look at the rear of you. We don’t see enough of it. It’s quite attractive.”
Faranger stood facing away from the group at the table. He could feel the focus of attention on his backside. He became increasingly uncomfortable, wished he could move ahead. He felt a small spasm in his rectum. “Good, good. OK proceed.”
Faranger mounted the step to the podium and moved to stand in front of the post, where it was clear he was meant to be. His handlers appeared from the shadows and pushed him gently back against the post. The blond put his wrists into a stiff set of manacles, lined with sheepskin, which caused his hands to cross. Faranger couldn’t help but view him in a new light. He involuntarily looked at the zipper in the man’s pants, but the handler maintained his professional neutrality. There was a rope attached to the manacles which they threw over the top of the post and fixed to a hook in back, having pulled Faranger’s arms to their full extension above his head, but short of discomfort. The dark haired handler hooked his collar to the post. Faranger felt even more exposed, tethered this way in front of the gathering, the straps around his lower torso advertising the presence of the butt plug.
“All right. Now we’re ready for the second draw. This goes to a couple. Jensens?”
An attractive man and woman, young middle age, approached. Each carried a small pile of leather bands, about two inches wide. The woman smiled at Faranger, and without shifting her gaze bit him gently on the penis. More engorgement.
“Would you please spread your legs?”
He obliged, and then, one at a time, they lifted a foot and wrapped the leather around his instep, so that equal lengths trailed out. They then began slowly wrapping the bands around his legs, crossing them over, front and back, front and back, their fingers brushing Faranger’s skin. The devastatingly intimate sight of these strangers wrapping his legs caused him to raise his gaze to the invisible ceiling, but their touches became even more vivid. He was aware of each finger as they moved up his thighs, his firm and quick, hers like caresses. She paused now and again to stroke his bare skin. He spasmed around the plug and his sex throbbed.
When they had gotten midway up his thighs the woman said, “Just a minute.”
They paused and she handed her strands to her companion. She began caressing Faranger’s thighs, letting her fingers trail over the contours of his muscles. Then she gently traced one inner ridge with light kisses, and touches with her tongue starting at the knee. Faranger spread his legs wider to encourage her to move high enough to take him in her mouth, but when her head pressed against his sex she withdrew.
They resumed wrapping, and as they worked their way higher up, Faranger became even more aroused. He didn’t understand this, but the mere act of wrapping his legs was pushing his arousal to the edge of pain.
When they reached the top, they tied the bands together on the outside of his leg and wrapped them securely around his thigh as high as possible. They had to take turns to have room between his legs as they positioned the second knots inside his groin. They gently pushed his legs back together. The leather combined with the strap already there pushed his testicles forward.
Next the man produce a stainless steel object which he held it up for Faranger’s inspection. It was a thin rod, two or three feet long, with a rectangular base about the size of playing card, and, attached at an angle at the top, a thin piece about 3 inches long and a half inch wide, rounded long the top and curved in a way that Faranger instinctively knew would match the curve of his body between his buttocks. He was proved right when the man slipped the base into a slot on the floor and pressed the top against his anus. The man adjusted it until there was a delicious pressure and locked it. Faranger writhed and came tantalizingly close to orgasm as it pressed the plug inside and the thongs outside. But in the end he stopped. It was tantalizingly close, but only close, and he was just providing a show for the onlookers.
As they left each squeezed a buttock in a farewell gesture. It was as if they were squeezing more engorgement into his penis. He was obsessed with the prospect of relief.
“Excellent, Jensens! Who would have thought that would work so beautifully!”
Nothing happened for a few more moments… minutes?? Faranger’s consciousness of his wrapped legs, erection, naked torso and bound neck and arms, all exposed to the spectators around the table, caused him to writhe as his body was taken over by a sensual wave.
“Ok, now Maria!” A lovely woman with shoulder length blond hair and long diamond earrings approached. Faranger had shifted his gaze up to his crossed hands, but the moderator said, “Ah, Mr. Faranger, you must look each of your tormenters in the eye. Directly, not just a glance.”
Faranger did as he was told and she gave him a smile. The forced personal encounter heightened his sense of humiliation and subjugation, and arousal. The arousal was becoming intolerable. But there was nothing to do but tolerate it.
Faranger’s chest was feeling neglected and so he felt some relief to see her produce two nipple clamps. The pain was pronounced when she pulled out each nipple and let them clamps close, but he felt the erotic impact when he became more engorged and involuntarily clenched around the plug and visibly spasmed in his lower abdomen. He focused on the excruciating pain and response was repeated several times, accompanied by almost inaudible groans, until the pain settled into numbness. She smiled in acknowledgement. Next she leaned down and dragged an earring across his testicles and then across the head of his penis. Faranger bucked, trying to press himself against the stones enough to trigger a climax, but fruitlessly. Then the woman licked his penis from bottom to top. Faranger writhed again, vainly trying to achieve release. She buried her fingers in his pubic hair to hold him still and closed her mouth around his penis. She sucked and he felt a climax building.
“Yes!” he cried out.
“Oops!” she cried out, as she quickly drew back. She immediately drove her thumbs into the leather cradling his testicles between his legs. She couldn’t reach the pressure point used by the moderator, but that was all right. She didn’t want him to lose his erection. She just wanted to interfere with the climax. They’re playing me like a bass fiddle, Faranger thought ruefully.
“Drat,” she said. “That didn’t last very long.”
As she left Faranger the moderator called out, “Eugenia!”
This woman was another young beautiful one, dressed in black, no jewelry, severe page boy hair. She carried three leather thongs. Their gazes met and held, as required.
First she stroked Faranger’s stiff penis and smiled appreciatively. “Let’s see what we can do about this.” She ran one of the thongs across Faranger’s penis near the base and attached both ends to the post behind him. She efficiently attached the other two above that one so that his penis was pressed against his belly. Each beat of his heart could be felt clearly under the straps. Maybe this would work all by itself, he thought. She smiled at him again and stepped aside so that her colleagues could get a clear, appreciative look at her handiwork. Then she wrapped her arm around the post behind him and gripped his right flank. She lay her cheek against his belly.
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