Games Ch. 01

WARNING! This is ruff-stuff B/D S/M----------------

I was 19 when I first came out to California from Iowa. It was simple, really, I moved to San Francisco because I couldn't take Des Moines any longer. Even now, there's not a whole lot a kid Can do in Iowa. I figure I'm pretty good looking, light brown Hair, hazel eyes and smooth swimmers build. In fact, in high school I was captain of the swim team. Anyway, I figured I'd do all right in this sophisticated city.

I got a job working in a bank as a mail clerk. I'd been there about a month and had begun to make friends with the other guys in the mailroom. One afternoon the boss walked by my desk and dropped a business card on my desk and told me he thought I'd be interested. The card read "GAMES - The Ultimate Experience" and gave a phone number. I put it in my pocket and didn't think much about it for the rest of the day.

When I got home that night, as I did every night, I stripped down to do my exercises. The card fell out of my shirt pocket and I picked it up and put it on my dresser. I stepped in front of the mirror on my bedroom door and dropped down to do some push-ups. Like I said, I like the way I look, and I like to watch myself during my exercises. I stood up and began doing some trunk twists. Watching the muscles of my chest and stomach twist was exciting. I stopped and began to pinch first one and then the other light brown nipple. I had spent some time in one of those tanning studios, so my body was a uniform light brown. I rubbed my hand down the muscles of my abdomen, through my pubic hair and cupped my balls. By this time my cock was hard.

I turned away and went to the dresser, opened the top drawer and took out one of the leather straps I had. I stepped back in front of the mirror. I tied one end of the strap around my left wrist, pulled it behind my back and looped it around my neck, and held on to the end with my left hand. I repositioned myself so That it appeared that my right arm and hand were someone else's, out of view. My mind raced with the fantasy I was building. I was a prisoner, stripped, bound and being inspected by my captor. My right hand tweaked my nipples, pulled on my balls and slapped my cock. In my mind I heard my captor's voice. "Ok, he'll do. Let's start the torture." I pulled on my nuts and a sharp pain shot down my legs. My cock was oozing pre-cum. In my mind I was taken into a dungeon, hung suspended and spread-eagled. My right hand rubbed the pre-cum over the head of my cock and up and down my shaft. In my fantasy my torturers started to approach me, carrying whips and other implements of torment. I drew a deep breath as my cock shuddered and ribbon after ribbon of thick cream shot out and splattered against the mirror. I let go of the strap and stood there, breathing deeply. I removed the strap from my wrist and put it back in the dresser. Then I went in and showered.

As I began dressing, I noticed the card I had tossed on top of the dresser. There was phone number to call. I thought a moment, shrugged my shoulders and went over to the telephone. I dialed the number. It rang once and a voice answered. It was a recording.

"You have reached games, level 1. If you are not interested in sexually explicit material, hang up now. Otherwise, press 1."

I shook my head in disbelief and pressed 1.

"You have reached games, level 2. If you are straight press 1, if you are gay, press 2." I pressed 1. "You have reached Games, level 3, following are selections of sex fantasies, press the number of the fantasy you desire."

I shook my head again, wondering at the computer technology at work.

The voice droned on " For a romantic interlude press 1. For wild sex without love press 2. For S&M press 3."

My heart jumped at this last entry, and I pushed 3 before the voice could continue. My heart was beating faster as the voice continued.

"You have reached games level 4. If you do not want a fantasy that becomes reality, hang-up now. Otherwise press the number of the S&M fantasy of your choice. For bondage, press 1. For spanking, press 2. For torture press 3."

My heart was beating really fast by this time. I reached down with one hand and began rubbing my growing hard on. I pressed 3.

"This is games level 5, this is the last level before reality. If you do not want your fantasy to become reality, hang-up now, otherwise press the number of the reality you want to explore. For medieval torture press 1. For torture by terrorists press 2. For torture by the inquisition press 3. For torture by the SS and Gestapo press 4."

The voice continued, but I was no longer listening, my mind was racing with the fantasies described. I pressed 4. "Please leave your phone number at the sound of the tone." A tone sounded and I gave my phone number. There was a click and dial tone.

I hung the phone up and went into the kitchen to get myself a drink. Probably all bullshit I thought to myself. As I started to drink the phone rang. My heart skipped a beat. I walked into the living room and picked up the phone.

"Is this 897-7888?" a voice asked. "Yes," I replied. "Did you just call Games?" the voice asked again. "Yeah, I did," I answered.

"Good, be at..." the voice continued describing an address south of Market. I was told to be there at 11:00 that night. Then they hung up. By this time I was shaking with a mixture of fear and excitement. I looked at my watch. It was 8:00. I had three hours to kill. I got my jacket and went out. I stopped at a small diner near where I lived and got a sandwich. Then I hopped a bus for south of market. I figured I'd kill time by going to a couple of bars.

As I kept checking my watch, the time seemed to move so slowly. Finally it was 10:30. I left the bar I was in and began walking to the address I had been given. It took about 25 minutes to get there. I found myself in an area of warehouses south of Bryant street. The street was empty. The address was a warehouse that was closed. I stood around and thought it was probably someone's idea of a joke. There were no lights on in the warehouse, or anywhere else on the street.

I looked at my watch. It was eleven. I looked up and down the street. It was completely empty. I waited awhile and looked at my watch again. It was 10 after eleven. I sighed, probably was a joke I thought to myself. I shrugged my shoulders and started walking back towards the bar I had left earlier.

Soon after I had started walking I heard footsteps behind me. I stopped and turned to see the person that was following me. My heart jumped, and I sucked in a quick breath. The woman I saw was dressed in an SS uniform.

"Going somewhere?" she asked with a snarl. Before I could answer, someone else, behind me grabbed my arms and pinned them. "What the...," I started to shout, as the SS woman quickly came up to me and stuffed a handkerchief in my mouth. I felt handcuffs being closed around my wrists.

"He's the one," the SS woman said, nodding to the unknown person behind me. I was spun around to face another woman, this one in a trenchcoat and hat. Now the SS woman held my arms.

"You're sure?" the trenchcoated woman asked.

"I'm sure" I heard the SS woman reply.

"Very well," the woman in front of me said, matter of factly. "Let's take him in for questioning."

I was hustled back to the warehouse. The SS woman produced a key and opened the door. They pushed me through. It was dark and I could see nothing. They continued to shove me along through the darkness. I heard a door opening, and whoever pushed me was guiding me. All of a sudden the lights were on. I blinked at the sudden brightness. As my vision cleared, and I looked around me, my heart began to pound, and my cock began to harden.

I was in a room that had open beams from floor to ceiling and across the ceiling. From the beams were hung chains and manacles. As I turned my head I saw a cross at one end of the room. A table was in the middle of the room. At the other end were two posts. All of these had chains and manacles attached. I was turned around by the woman in the trenchcoat. The woman dressed in the SS uniform was standing by another table. On the table were whips, clothespins, clamps, and implements whose purpose I could only guess at. Now that I could see the women, I could tell that both were in their early thirties, were very fit looking, and quite attractive. This looked promising.

"So," the SS woman began to speak. "You are in the resistance. Well resistance here will do you no good whatsoever." she smiled, and picked up a small whip. "Here," she snarled as she hit the whip against the table "we have ways of getting beyond resistance."

"Hedy" I heard the woman in the trenchcoat speak "let's not waste time talking. He's not going to cooperate. Let's just strip him and get started."

My cock was fully hard now. I was breathing heavily, in a mixture of fear and excitement. These were my deepest fantasies coming to reality.

"Very well," the SS woman responded. "Don't think of trying to escape, there is no escape," she advised. She walked over to me as the other woman released me from the handcuffs. I stood there silently as they stripped me. In a few minutes I was naked. They pushed me over to the two upright posts and began securing my wrists and ankles spread-eagled. I felt my legs and wrists pulled apart as they tightened up on the chains.

Then they stepped back and looked me up and down.

"Not bad" one of them hissed. She walked back over to me and began to rub her hand up and down my chest, stopping only to twist and pinch my nipples. I winced as she dug a fingernail into one of my tits. She reached down and grabbed my scrotum and pulled sharply, digging her sharp nails in very cruelly. I took in a sharp breath at the pain that engulfed my balls.

"Hmm" she spoke softly, seeing my cock fully hard, "he likes this."

"Yes," the one in the SS uniform answered "he seems to, let's see how much torture he can take."

They both walked over to the table of implements. The one in the trenchcoat removed the coat and her hat. I could see that she was athletically built and had short dark hair cropped close to her face.

"Let's get more comfortable" she addressed the one in uniform, "this could take all night."

At that, both women began to take off some of their clothing. They stopped once they had stripped to the waist and removed their trousers, leaving them in tight fitting bicycle shorts. Both had firm, attractive breasts, and their asses were nicely shaped by the tight, elastic shorts. They also slipped out of their flat shoes and were barefoot. The one who had been in the SS uniform picked up a small quirt and came back towards me. The other sat back against the table to watch.

As she reached me, she raised the quirt as if to strike. I closed my eyes and grimaced waiting for the blow. She laughed, and let the quirt fall gently against my chest. She moved it slowly up and down my chest, stopping to tease my nipples. The feel of the leather softly caressing my chest was incredible. I closed my eyes as the quirt slowly made its way down my stomach and softly caressed my cock. The head of my cock oozed precum.

In an instant my reverie was shattered, and I screamed into the gag as sharp pain exploded along the shaft of my cock. I opened my eyes with a start to see her bring the quirt down full force once again against my cock. She continued to whip my cock for several minutes. Each time the whip hit I bit into the gag. Soon tears streamed down my face. I had fantasized about being tortured, but the reality seemed more than I could bear. But, my cock stayed hard, and the precum oozed more and more with each successive blow of the whip. Then she stopped and walked back to the table of implements.

I sagged in my bindings, breathing deeply. My eyes were closed. My cock felt like it was on fire. I opened my eyes and looked down. Along the shaft of my cock there were angry red welts. But the skin had not broken, and I was still hard.

"You shouldn't be so gentle" the other woman chided. "Let me show you how it's done."

With that she picked up a long leather thong and a small package and walked towards me. When she reached me, she set down the package and put her hand against my chest.

"I like a smooth chest" she commented as she rubbed up and down my chest and abdomen. "A smooth chest shows the marks so much better than a hairy chest, and it saves us the trouble of shaving it."

Then she reached down and took hold of my balls and pushed them down into my scrotum. I winced at the deep ache that began to envelop my crotch. With her other hand, she began to wrap the leather thong around my scrotum, tightening it so that my nuts were forced away from my cock. It felt like she was trying to push my nuts completely out of their sac. With about twelve inches remaining of the leather thong, she began to wrap it around first one and then the other of my testicles, separating them. It felt like someone was putting my nuts into a vise. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"There, that should hold them nicely," she commented, matter of factly.

She reached down and picked up the package and opened it. I could see that it was full of needles. My heart began to pound with real fear. Was she going to jab the needles into my nuts? I shook my head to attempt to say no, that this was too much. She only smiled up at me.

"Shaking your head no?" she asked with mock surprise, "you should have thought of that earlier. You had your chance not to join the games."

She selected a long and sharp needle. Grabbing my right testicle between her thumb and forefinger, and holding the needle with her other hand, she began to prick me, slowly at first, and then faster and faster. I began to move my head from side to side as the pain grew. It was as though my nut was on fire. She moved to my left testicle and commenced the same effort. The minutes dragged on as she continued to prick first one and then the other testicle. I pulled at my restraints, somehow trying to escape the needle.

"None of that," she hissed, as she reached over and grabbed my cock, and began to prick the shaft and head of my cock with the needle.

I bit into the handkerchief; it felt like my whole crotch was being attacked by ants that were biting me. I looked down to see droplets of blood develop where the needle pricked the skin. But my cock was still hard. In a few minutes she stopped and stepped back. Again I sagged in my bindings. The precum continued to ooze from the head of my cock.

"You thought I was gentle" the SS woman laughed, "you're practically kissing his cock and balls with that silly needle. Lets hang him up and try something else."

With that, the woman who had been torturing me untied the leather thong and put away the needle. The other one came up and they both untied first my ankles and then my wrists. My arms were pinned behind me as they marched me over to another end of the room. They pulled a chain and manacles down from one of the ceiling beams and attached them to my wrists. Then they hauled up on the chains and my arms rose above me. They continued pulling until my toes were barely touching the floor. My entire weight was being held by my arms and wrists.

"More" the SS woman ordered.

They pulled more until I was hanging free. My feet a foot or more above the floor.

"That's better, "she said approvingly. "Let's swing him a little."

With that, both women walked over to the table of implements and picked up wide leather covered paddles. They returned and stepped behind me.

I drew in a sharp breath as the first swat hit my ass. I swung by my arms from the force of the blow. Another swat hit my ass, and I bit into the gag. Blow after blow the paddles struck my ass and I swung from each hit.

"Lets see how high we can make him swing" I heard one comment.

The blows hit more quickly now and with more force. Tears streamed down my face as my ass began to burn. Pain shot down the backs of my legs.

"Let's turn him" one ordered. The blows now were aimed first at my ass, then my back, then one of them came around to my front and hit my chest. They walked all around me swatting whatever part of me they fancied, chest, back, ass, and finally my cock. I swung around, backwards, forwards, from side to side as each successive blow hit. Then they stopped and went back to the table.

"Lets go get something to drink" the SS woman suggested.

"Ok," the other agreed. Then turning to me said, "don't go anywhere. We'll be right back." At this they both began to laugh.

"Wait," the SS woman said as they started to leave, "he looks much too comfortable."

With that, she picked up a handful of clothespins and came towards me. She attached one to each of my nipples. Then she attached four to my scrotum and three to the loose skin along the shaft of my cock. The jaws of the clothespins bit unmercifully into my tender flesh.

"That's better," she said, and they both left the room.

I hung there, my tits, cock and balls on fire. My ass ached from the beating. My nuts were sore. But my cock never lost its hardness. I shook my head. This was what I dreamed of, but now that it was happening, I wasn't sure I could take it. What had happened had been bad enough. But they weren't through. My mind raced with images of the possible tortures to come. I don't know how long I hung there before they eventually came back.

"Still here" one chided as they entered the room.

"You know," commented the SS woman, "he's smooth, but not smooth enough."

"You're right," the other responded.

She picked up a can and razor and came towards me. She began to remove the clothespins on my cock and scrotum. As the jaws were released the blood rushed back into the skin, causing more pain. She left the clothespins on my nipples, which were now just aching. She put the razor down and released some shaving cream from the can, which she then smeared over my pubic hair, my balls and around the end of my cock. She put the can down, and began to shave me. A few minutes later she stepped away. She reached up and pulled the handkerchief from my mouth and used it to wipe away the remaining shaving cream.

"That's better," she said. "Nice and smooth. You won't be needing this anymore either," she commented as she tossed the handkerchief aside.

"That's right" the other added "its time we enjoyed your moaning and cries of pain."

"But," the one who had just shaved me added as she walked back to the table, "you are to say nothing. If you utter one word, or attempt to plead, it will go even rougher for you. Your mouth is freed to give us pleasure in hearing the effect of our work. It is not free to give you a voice."

The woman who had just shaved me returned to the other who was standing by the table of implements. As they spoke quietly, I looked down at my now denuded crotch. The skin around my cock and balls was white in contrast to the brown of my abdomen. My cock, jutting out, looked even larger than it had before. I looked up as the speaking stopped.

One of the women picked up a box with a crank handle and two long wires. Both of them walked towards me.

"Ever play telephone when you were a kid?" the SS woman asked pleasantly. "If you did, this is little different."

"To be sure" the other answered. The wires were about four feet in length and with the box sitting on the floor, I could see that they could reach every part of me. The ends of the wires were bare.

"A demonstration" the SS woman offered, as she set the box on the floor. She began to crank the handle slowly at first, and then faster. As she picked up speed, the other woman touched the wires together and a spark jumped at the connection. My eyes widened in fear.

"When I crank it slowly, it tickles, as I crank it faster the tickle becomes a little sharper. Faster still, and the tickle ends up like a burning ember." the SS woman explained. She nodded to the other woman.