Sunday, October 22, 2017

Waiting for Ross #13

Under the denim covering his considerable crotch, Ross felt a familiar sensation in his groin. Chatting online about Tim with Matt’s friend, Eric, had made Ross unexpectedly horny. Ross grabbed the beer he had been slowly nursing, rose from his desk, and walked to his bedroom. After such a full and satisfying weekend, he had planned to read and go to bed early, but the feeling of his cock awakening led him to reconsider. He checked the time. Brad had sucked him off well over 7 hours ago and had gone home soon after. Ross wished Brad had been able to stay.
Acutely aware of Brad’s absence from it, Ross relaxed in his medieval-style steel bed and comfortably settled into its water-filled mattress. He closed his eyes, picturing Brad servicing him as he had earlier, and then opened them to look at the dungeon monitor. Suspended in the bondage frame, inclined forward at a slight angle, Tim appeared still and quiet within his sleepsack. Ross adjusted the audio to its maximum setting and could hear Tim snoring softly through the gag.
After the arduous and, at times, protracted bondage Tim had endured throughout the long weekend, Ross had planned for Tim to spend the night in relative “comfort” and to be released early in the morning. With the unanticipated horniness, however, Ross was rethinking that plan. Focusing on the monitor, he lay back in bed, unzipped his pants, and extracted his cock and balls to stroke himself. He knew that Tim had apparently been able to sleep, even trapped in the dog suit, for at least part of the night before. And, after all, he thought, a slave like Tim should not necessarily be comfortable enough to sleep, especially two nights in a row. Ross’s cock grew larger and his bladder fuller as he sipped beer and lay in bed mulling over the options and studying Tim, to refresh himself on which gear Ross had used on him. As Ross let his sadistic imagination generate horny ideas, a scenario developed that gave him a huge erection. Wondering if it would work, whether it was too complex or would require a change in Tim’s gear, Ross considered it for several minutes before getting up from his bed. His monumental erection was telling him it was worth a try.
A few minutes later, two levels below in Ross’s dungeon, Tim dreamed he was falling. In his rubber skin, within his tight leather cocoon, he felt himself thrashing hopelessly as he realized he was unable to move, and then he emitted muffled shouts into the gag, inwardly cursing himself for waking up with a struggle. “Shit!” Tim hated it when he woke up in bondage and panicked. During the minute or two it took him to recover and orient himself, he felt things happening to him, and his powerlessness to do anything about them, beyond a few grunts, made his dick swell and pulsate. In darkness, encased in one of his rubber catsuits, shrouded in his leather sleepsack and suspended helplessly, Tim nevertheless understood that Ross had returned and was busy messing with him.
In response to pressure at his throat, Tim instinctively raised his chin and recognized the feeling of a wide, stiff posture collar closing securely around his neck, to further rigidify his already encased and bound head. With the exaggerated upright position, he also noticed that the angle of his suspension had been altered: He was tilted slightly back instead of forward. In addition, the sensations around his cock were different, perhaps explaining why he had sensed it getting erect. His cock felt exposed and hard, yet somehow encased, and his balls were tightly stretched and constricted. Tim concluded that he had slept through whatever Ross had done to his cock and balls, apparently via the access provided at the crotch-level zippers of the sleepsack and catsuit.
Fully awake now, Tim felt Ross tugging at the rear zippers, first at the sleepsack and then under it, on the catsuit. Next, he felt Ross gently searching and then penetrating his asshole, with something cold and wet. Thinking he would be unable to accommodate the entrance of a butt plug with his legs fastened together so tightly, Tim squirmed and moaned to protest, but then grunted in surprise when he recognized the intrusion of the electric anal probe. Tim felt Ross fiddling with it, perhaps fixing it in place somehow, and then adjusting the zippers, and then Tim yelped and jerked in his bindings as a few sharp, strong jolts painfully coursed through his ass and balls, as though Ross were testing the connections.
His cock uncomfortably erect, adrenaline pumping through his body now, Tim sighed heavily into his gag as he became aware of Ross fiddling with the nipple zippers on the sleepsack and catsuit. This time, Tim knew what was coming next and held his breath as the clamps made their way under the rubber flaps of the catsuit to be attached, first on the right and then the left. Trying to absorb the shock of the clamps, Tim exhaled. The sensation was more painful than erotic, but soon Tim felt the juices flowing into his cock as the clamps pulled on his nipples and the sensation changed to exquisite tenderness, the kind of good hurt that usually stimulated his horniness. Quickly the tension increased, however, until Tim groaned and tried to lean forward to release the pressure, but the securely fastened sleepsack prevented any appreciable movement. The clamps gripped his nipples tightly and something was pulling them up and out, making his nipples feel extremely sensitive, and Tim’s squirming seemed only to increase the tension. He tried to calm himself, to stay as still as possible and enjoy the sensation, but he lurched when a new wave of electric current cut through him below. He groaned loudly and thought he heard Ross say something or laugh in response. Tim’s now tenderized nipples throbbed as the tension on them seemed to pulsate, and Tim wondered if the clamps were attached to some kind of weight.
Next, Tim felt sensations of increased compression and restriction, starting at his head and proceeding sequentially at each side down and over his body, and he understood that Ross was tightening the laces, straps, and other bindings that enclosed him in the sleepsack and held him suspended in the bondage frame. Tim felt sure he would be unable to move a muscle. On the verge of losing control, he began tensing his body and vigorously squirming, like some sort of human male sausage cooked to the point of bursting. Moaning and wiggling as he involuntarily tested the limits of his extreme restraint, he couldn't stop himself from enjoying the resulting feeling of progressively tighter constriction and immobility. Though Tim would soon be desperate for release, at that moment all he knew was the incredible physical excitement of being tightly, inescapably wrapped and tied from head to toe.
Despite his state of near frenzy, through the rubber and heavy leather at his mouth Tim felt pressure and sensed that something was going on with the tube in his gag. The channel for air seemed to have changed. He had to work slightly harder to draw breath through it, and then he noticed a small amount of liquid enter his mouth. It was cold and bitter tasting, like stale piss, and Tim recognized that it was probably old piss that Ross had collected and been saving for a special occasion. The flow increased to a constant trickle, and then seemed to fill the tube completely, blocking out air. Tim swallowed the piss repeatedly, until finally he was gulping it down as quickly as possible. He was aware of his Adam’s Apple, moving uncomfortably against the constriction of the posture collar as he choked down the sour brew. Nevertheless, the task of swallowing seemed to calm him temporarily. As he continued, however, the awful taste became more apparent, and he thought he might gag, so he used his tongue to block the tube and stop the flow temporarily. Thankfully, he was able to breathe through the nose holes of the rubber and leather hoods. Apparently, however, Ross did not appreciate the delay, as Tim felt a series of strong shocks and groaned with reverberations of pain in his ass, cock, and clamped tits. Understanding the signal, Tim released his tongue and swallowed. The flow of piss continued. Distasteful as Tim found it, Tim’s cock pulsed with the knowledge that he had no choice but to endure it. “Fucking sadist,” Tim thought. “Haven’t I had enough piss for one weekend?” At one point Tim noticed it change to warm, fresh piss, obviously directly from Ross, and Tim swallowed dutifully, until finally the flow dried up. Grateful to be finished with it and able to breathe through his mouth again, he inhaled deeply through the tube. He puffed up his chest as much as the sleepsack would allow and enjoyed the soreness that resulted as his nipples expanded under the clamps. His stomach felt bloated within the confines of the tight sleepsack. With the heated rush of bondage excitement beginning to subside, Tim felt a mixture of discomfort and horniness. His cock strained to become fully erect as he renewed his squirming within the tightness of his bindings. “Ross is relentless,” Tim thought, and Tim’s cock surged in agreement. Simultaneously, Tim hated and loved both his predicament and Ross. “Fucking bastard!” Tim’s cock was throbbing. He wondered if he was allowed to cum.
Suddenly, Tim realized Ross was talking to him, and he wormed himself into stillness within the sleepsack, to try to hear the words through the hoods. It was a question, and he understood that Ross had repeated it several times before he comprehended the words.
“...need to piss, slave?”
Tim tried to grunt a “yes.” His bladder was aching with fullness.
“... whenever you want.”
Tim couldn’t hear everything Ross said and was puzzled by what he did hear. Tim didn’t think he could piss, with his legs squeezed together by the sleepsack, an anal probe up his ass, his balls somehow tied and electrified, and his tits feeding his erection, with his cock encased in... what? Probably something connecting it to his mouth, Tim thought. Yet, his bladder was full, ready to overflow from the water he had consumed earlier in the evening combined with what his system had processed so far of the piss Ross had just made him swallow. Tim concentrated on relaxing his sphincter, and soon he sensed that a cautious but constricted flow had started. Waiting for the piss to enter his mouth, he tried to proceed slowly, but nothing seemed to happen. Apparently the piss was going somewhere other than his mouth. With a feeling of relief, he let loose and pissed as freely as the constriction around his cock allowed. That’s when he noticed the real connection. The tension of the clamps on his nipples increased as he pissed. The more he pissed, the further stretched and painful his tits became. Somehow Ross had connected the clamps on his nipples to a container that collected Tim’s piss. With difficulty, Tim stopped himself from pissing. He unintentionally groaned through the gag. It felt like his tits were being pulled off.
A minute or two passed, and Tim tasted piss, cold and bitter again, more that Ross had saved, entering his mouth. He swallowed unhappily. Ross was talking again. Tim stopped the flow with his tongue and struggled to stay still and listen.
“... should be good for quite a while.”
Tim groaned loudly, intentionally this time, and squirmed. The creaking of the leather drowned out Ross’s words. He tried to understand.
“... automatic shocks to keep you awake, make sure you don’t fall asleep and choke.”
Stunned by a nasty jolt of electricity in his ass, Tim wanted to protest, but his efforts to verbalize resulted in a mouthful of piss. He swallowed quickly.
“... couple liters to go”
Pain coursed through Tim’s ass, balls and tits as a series of shocks erupted and the weight on his nipple clamps undulated. He forced himself to remain silent and still. Without releasing his tongue, he tried to articulate “Sir?” through his gag, but there was no response.
A half hour later, two levels above, surveying Tim on the dungeon monitor as though he were a work of art, Ross lay in bed and relaxed. With particular interest in the suspended pulley, over which the chain connecting the piss bucket to the tit clamps was looped, Ross stroked his cock as he studied the image. The constant drip from the overhead bag into the funnel, hanging above Tim’s head and connected with a tube through his gag, had just stopped, and Ross therefore knew Tim had finished swallowing all the piss. Ross had watched Tim carefully for ill effects, and there had been none. He considered going downstairs to refill the piss bag, but instead he gently pumped his cock, which leaked precum onto his hand. He massaged the goo into his cockhead. Enjoying the slow buildup, Ross continued admiring the diabolical setup and the hapless victim who was the subject of it as he pumped his cock. Ross was proud of his own sadistic imagination. Still gradually stimulating himself, Ross waited patiently. Eventually, he was rewarded when he noticed Tim’s piss coursing out of the tube connected to the cock sheath. Just like the first time when Ross had tested the setup earlier, now the piss ran into the suspended bucket, which descended, almost imperceptibly, lower toward the floor as its weight increased.
“Mmmph... Uh... Ahh... Ahh... Ohh... Ohh!”
On hearing Tim’s stifled pleas and groans, Ross’s cock exploded and spurted cum upward, onto his stomach and chest. The eruption was brief but powerful and deeply felt. Finally totally satisfied and relieved of his horniness, Ross found himself in an exhausted postorgasmic haze, which quickly enveloped him in a deep sleep.

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