Dick's tit & nipple torture continues!
Executive Retreat - Chapters 12 & 13
by steve mchalperin
Art by Alpharithm9
Series: Executive Retreat
Chapter 12: Needle Work
They lost no time in moving on to my next Tit Tuesday Torment, as they jokingly called it. I had just a momentary break between the hairbrushing and the next torment, but you take your pleasures when you can, so I used the time to catch my breath. The SJ constricted my chest so tightly I couldn’t take a full breath, but it was better than nothing.
I could hear murmurings and low conversation as the men took another little break. The conversation ended with someone asking a question: “Time for pins, Harry?”
DieQual answered yes and I could hear them gather around the torture table again.
DieQual addressed me: “Next level, boy. Your nips are now supersensitive, so what we’re going to do will hurt twice as much as normal.”
The dread meter needle quickly rose up into the red zone. Pins? Fear, dread, and uncertainty are strong drivers in the vic just before torture resumes. They could have touched me with a feather and I think I would have screamed.
I did howl when I felt something sharp pricking my pec peg at the base, still inside the aureole. It was the promised pin and it was being slowly pushed horizontally into the cartilage of my nipple. The pain came in spurts as the needle broke through each of the microlayers of cartilage. I could feel a popping sensation, followed by a spike of pain to the brain. So I kept yelling my head off. There was a big increase in pain as the needle broke through the other side.
I thought they’d switch to the other nip, but then I felt a second pin pricking my pec peg perpendicular to the first. More insertion pain, more cartilage drilling, more pain, more screaming. This second one, for some reason, really hurt.
Then they did switch nips and I went through the same drill: push, pain, yell; push, pain, yell. The second pin also hurt more than the first.
Nobody said a word during the pinning. There were a few groans of pleasure, no doubt from someone rubbing a hardon within a leather jock.
DieQual ended the process: “There. Four pins in a beautiful cross configuration. And, notice gentlemen, very little bleeding. I told you, John, that this step is often quite clean.”
Someone, presumably John, replied: “Yes, I see that now, Harry. I thought the opposite. A little blood is OK, but I get concerned if there’s a gusher. Do you have the coagulant spray I recommended?”
“Yes, I do,” DieQual answered. “We might need it later,” he added.
Oh, great! Now I’m going to bleed to death.
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Chapter 13: A Good Stretch
I heard people moving around and some metallic clicks, but, of course, I had no idea of what was coming down. Blinded by the strap over my eyes, all I could rely on was hearing, so every new sound tended to be viewed as some new and dreadful torture; some new, higher level of pain. Torture is so effective when it is strung out in incremental and unpredictable steps. The vic is kept in a constant state of fear.
I heard/felt something rubbing against the sides of the table near my chest. DieQual was so helpful as he described what was happening next.
“My dear Dickie-boy,” he said. Is there such a thing as unctuous lust? That’s what he sounded like. “This next adventure for you will build on the last one. We’re keeping the pins in, of course, but we going to thread a cord around each cross. The cords lead up to two small winches set on a frame which is now directly over your chest. As we crank in on the winches, the cords will tighten and then pull your whole nipple area up, stretching the pec muscle and your skin. We will do it slowly so you can appreciate every millimeter, but, do understand, dear boy, it’s going to hurt a lot. You won’t be damaged, I assure you of that, but there might be minor muscle pulls inside your pecs, those beautiful, manly pecs. But the tears will easily knit in a few days. It will still hurt while they’re healing, but that’s part of our little game, isn’t it?”
He asked a question, but my head was immobilized so I couldn’t nod. I tried to say “yes” but the strap gag mangled it. At that point I didn’t care. What more could they do to me for punishment?
I felt the cords being threaded around the crossed pins in my nipples, minor pain at this point. Then someone started to turn the winch leading to my right nip. There was a clicking sound, which DieQual quickly explained.
“There’s a little ratchet and cog on each winch, so it’ll hold its position until the ratchet is released. That’s the little click. Think of it as a medieval rack for your nipples. Ha!” Several men of the group laughed with him. A fleeting picture of a naked man being racked in a castle dungeon, screaming his guts out, crossed my mind. My caged dick liked the thought, though, and I had to add that pain to the list.
The clicking went on until I could feel the cord get taut. Then the stretching started. No problem at first, but the pain quickly kicked in. Whoa! I thought. This is far worse than I expected. Suddenly the clicking on my right stopped and the winch held my nip and pec muscle firmly stretched out to a painful distance. Then the clicking started up on my left side. The cord got taut, a few more clicks, and my left nipple was stretched out. My face was distorted in pain.
Two more clicks on each side and I had to yell. It was very rough. Two more clicks and I was screaming from agony. Again my voice filled the small torture room. “A-a-h! Agh! A-a-g-h!” I tried to struggle, but the bondage was completely immobilizing. I could activate my muscle groups but nothing moved! I had to try, the tortured animal has to try to escape. A million years of evolutionary wiring compelled it.
Was that another click? The pain redoubled in my chest and I guess my screaming got a rough edge to it. Then I felt a slight back off. It felt like they went back a bit on the ratchet, back to very painful but not maddeningly agonizing as it was at the peak.
DieQual’s voice again assaulted me: “There, I think we found the sweet spot. We want you in pain but not too close to passing out. That ruins the fun for us, so we’ll keep you at this level for a while.”
Then I felt hands and fingers prodding my stretched-out pec muscles, spiking the pain at each touch. There were “oooohs” and “aahs” from the group and I felt hands running down my imprisoned thighs and calves. These crazy pervs were feasting on my pain and bondage! It was their nectar, engorging their lust.
The torture and humiliation went on for an hour. Was it an hour? I couldn’t really tell. Intense pain messes with your mind, screws up your internal clock. The absolute inescapability contributes to the horror of the situation. This twenty-four year old stud was reduced to a piece of strapped down meat for the perverse pleasure of the men in my company. My relationship to them was permanently altered. They would now look on me only as a thing to be tormented, humiliated, and abused. I would look on them as Masters in control of my universe.
Suddenly I was startled to hear clicks from the damned winches on my chest. The pain rocketed up and I was again plunged into agony. My throat started to hurt from screaming and I was gasping for breath, trying to pass out. Unfortunately that doesn’t work; you can’t make yourself pass out.
Just as suddenly the ratchet was released and all the tension on the cords slackened off. Then they were taken off, but the pins were left in. I trembled from relief.
“Hey, Johnny,” DieQual yelled. “We’re going to the other room to play with number 2. Amuse yourself and him while we’re gone.”
Johnny was the hairbrush man. He answered “Yes, sir!” and I again felt the stiff bristles brutalizing my tortured nips. I groaned and tried to twist in the tight bondage as he varied the intensity of the brushing, all of it painful. There was to be no relief. I would have cried, if I could.
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scotts60143 - July 9, 2024, 8:33 am
Wow. When these guys say nip torture, they really mean it. This was very intense, and then after all that the young master/slave got into the act again with his brush! Really intense, and I would imagine our hero’s dick is dying inside the cage! These guys are really good at their SM!