Neighbors Pt. 01: The Training Rack

Right now:

I am in a small basement room, bright with studio lighting. I am naked save for a thick leather hood, stiff latex corset around my middle, thigh-high latex stockings, and leather heels. The hood, corset, and stockings are shiny black, the heels sports-car red, though I cannot see them.

Or much of anything.

I am in a hands-and-knees posture, my belly supported by a short padded bench that reaches from my sternum to just above my waist, angled downward toward the front, so that my exposed ass is considerably higher than my head, which is near to the floor. I am secured to the bench with thick straps that hold me to it at my waist, middle, and shoulders. The bench is attached to an I-shaped metal frame, much like kind that supports a standard weight-training bench (I think this thing may have started life as one, before Master subjected it to his considerable welding and engineering skills),

My forearms arms rest on padded frames welded to the top cross-piece of the "I", fastened to it with wide straps at the wrist and just above the elbow, my hands left free to twitch and grasp helplessly at the air. My shins are similarly fastened to pads on the lower crosspiece of the "I", wide straps just below the knee and at the ankle, my feet and toes free to twist and curl.

The shin-rests hold my legs far apart, and combined with the tilt of the bench expose my ass, cock, and balls to-well, everything this contraption can do to them.

My head is cradled in a frame taken from a massage table, held fast with a webbing of straps that crisscrosses the back of my head. While the hood covers my eyes, there is an opening for my mouth. Just below my mouth, also fastened to the long piece of the "I" and sticking up at a mild angle, is a thick, black silicone dildo with several metal pads just below the "head." The tilt of the bench and head frame hold my head down in such a way that my mouth is forced down onto the dildo, which stretches back almost to the gagging point in my throat and jacks my mouth wide open, stuffed with the black silicone and metal.

There are small alligator clips clamped to my nipples, with red wires attached to them, trailing off somewhere.

My waxed cock and balls are confined first by a thick and wide metal ring through which both have been forced, crimping them off to the point that cumming is impossible. Attached to the shaft of my cock is a stretcher frame, with one smooth metal ring tightly around its base, and another, attached to the first with thin metal rods that run the length of the shaft, pinches just below the cockhead. The whole apparatus stretches both cock and balls painfully, balls swollen and exposed, cock unable to relax its erection. The rings around the base and below the tip are also attached to red wires that trail out of the frame.

There are small electrodes attach to each ball and my taint. A "magic wand" vibrator, clamped into some sort of frame, rests its vibrating head on the thick ring around the base of my balls. Finally, a thrusting-style fuck machine is positioned such that the dildo end presses on, without (yet) entering my hole. I can feel some kind of cold, gel lubricant oozing from the tip of the dildo like precum.

While I can't see, I've been able to follow the logic of how the contraption works. There are of course, cameras and mics at all angles around the room, wired in to a computer that sits near a window just outside the small room, feeding images from the room to the viewers of a very exclusive webcam service.

As the viewers watch and offer "tokens" for which they've paid premium dollars, the "tokens" cause various sounds that seem to activate the various parts of the apparatus. A "ping" noise causes the thruster machine to slide its dildo into my asshole, and further pings of somewhat different pitches can sustain its motion, change the speed and length of its strokes, change its thickness, or even make it "cum," squirting its lube deep within me.

A "wubwub" sort of sound seems to control the "wand," which can vibrate in different patterns and levels of intensity against the thick metal cock ring, sending those vibrations all through my tightly-stretched cock and balls.

"Chirp" sounds of various pitches control the various electrodes wired to my nipples, cock shaft, balls, and taint-as well as the metal plates on the dildo invading my mouth, the small plates resting right on my tongue.

The Master says that the apparatus, which he calls the "Training Rack" is about teaching me to submit to control. Of course, I am aware that he is also making money from the "tokens" purchased by viewers that control my pleasure or my torment, according to their whims.

In the pregnant pause before my "show" is scheduled to begin, I have time to wonder why I consented to this. I even signed a form-copies of which viewers can access on the website. Why did I do that? How did it get to this point?

The show starts. I hear the initial "ping" and try to relax my sphincter so it doesn't hurt too much, feeling the dildo begin to penetrate me. The chirps begin, and "wubs" add a baseline to the chorus, My mind goes dark as the mics register my moans, and the camera zooms in on the machines, the eyes of the lenses watching idly and lifelessly as my body squirms and wriggles in the restraints, my fingers clench and grasp, ankles twist and stretch, and all becomes sensation.