Necktie Party, Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I am convinced that night was the worst I've ever endured. Time and again I would slip into a troubled sleep, only to awaken a short time later to agonizing lightning bolts of pain originating in my crotch and shooting throughout my entire body. There was simply no position I could find that would protect my burning balls for long enough to allow me to relax. I incessantly looked at the clock on the nightstand beside the bed, and at no time during the night had it advanced more than half an hour.

When Jen awakened and slipped quietly from our bed, I could tell by the light suffusing through the curtains on our bedroom window that it was already late morning. By that time I was feeling an overwhelming need to pee, but simply could not bear to move. I must have again fallen into a fitful sleep at that point, because the next thing I knew Jen was lying close to me, her hand on my cock. As soon as I was able to perceive that, I realized that the thing was just then softening, and there was a large wet spot on my stomach. As unbelievable as it was, it was obvious that I'd had another wet dream, and as I had that thought, the whole thing came back to me in a flash.

When she realized that I was awake, Jen raised up on one elbow to look at me. She didn't speak for several seconds, but just continued to gaze at me with a sleepy smile. Finally she asked, "Did you sleep well, honey?" For answer, all I could do was groan. That caused her to smile again, and she said, "I slept like a baby all night. It's amazing how well I sleep after we've been over there. The orgasms I have then seem to be the most satisfying ever, and make me completely relaxed and really sleepy."

She then shifted gears, saying, "When I came back to check on you a few minutes ago, you were lying on your back and making little moans. I could see the covers tented up over your crotch, and simply couldn't believe that you had an erection already. After I'd peeled the covers down very carefully, I saw your little dickie standing up and waving to me, so I shook hands with it. It had the gall to actually start spitting. Can you believe it?"

Her laughter at her little joke was completely lost on me. I couldn't believe that I'd ever again have a sense of humor, or be able to laugh at anything. My only thought was to find some way to relieve the terrible throbbing in my crotch.

Jen finally said, "You stink! I think it's about time for you to take a bath, don't you? Do you want me to help you get up, or can you do it yourself. Surely anyone who's healthy enough to be having wet dreams is healthy enough to get out of bed on their own." Although she said that in a halfway-joking manner, I could see that she was genuinely concerned with my well being, and I resolved to reassure her that I was indeed going to recover.

As soon as I tried to swing my legs over the edge of the bed, I knew I'd made a mistake. That simple action brought my legs together, placing a slight pressure on my sac. What would have been unnoticeable yesterday was now unbearable. I was again struck with the feeling of being paralyzed, and couldn't stifle the involuntary grunt of pain.

Jen got out of bed and came around to my side to help me. By very carefully guiding my legs and helping me, she soon had me in a sitting position on the edge of the bed. I looked down to get my first clear look at the source of so much pain, and was shocked to see that my sac was tremendously swollen, and I was sure that Jen's previous prediction of my balls swelling to the size of baseballs was understated by half. I know in retrospect they were probably not any larger than tennis balls, but at the time, basketballs would have been closer to my perception.

With her help, I was finally able to gain my feet, and then hobble to the bathroom by leaning weakly on her. By that time, the need to pee was almost as dominating as the pain, and as she began to fill the bathtub for me, I stood in front of the toilet trying to relieve myself.

Urinating has always been something I took for granted, but it was anything but simple then. I suppose that the combination of the intense pain, coupled with the fact that my bladder had been holding its contents for so long, made it difficult for me to get started. Whatever, Jen finally noticed me standing there with no results and asked if I needed any help, or was I just having such a good time playing with myself that I couldn't get the job done.

Finally my bladder released its load, and the relief I found was immense. However, as soon as the discomfort in my bladder was reduced, it increased in my balls. There seemed to be no getting around the fact that the things were going to cause me a great deal of trouble for some time to come.

At last, with Jen's help, I was sitting in the tub, feeling the wonderful soothing effects of the water. She began tenderly soaping my upper body, and then rinsed it. She asked me to stand so that she could complete the job, and after lots of groaning, I was able to manage that.

She began soaping my backside first, and once again I was struck by the tenderness in her hands now as opposed to how joyously they had swung a whip at that very spot just a few short hours before. When I turned to face her, she soaped my legs and then very carefully started to wash my cock. I watched in rapt fascination as her small hands carefully massaged my penis, and I was completely lost in the loving moment when she said with a mocking tone in her voice, "For God's sake, David. What is it with you? I've heard of some people having a one-track mind, but you take the cake."

I snapped out of my reverie, still looking down at her attentions, and saw that my poor whip-marked cock was struggling to become erect. It was trying to fill, but could reach only a certain point before it would suddenly become limp again. That must have happened at least three times while she was washing it, and she pretended to be exasperated with me for thinking of nothing but sex.

Again she showed her dual nature of lover and mistress. At one point when the thing was about one-half filled with blood, she spread the opening with one hand and then worked soap suds into it with the other. The sudden burning I experienced when the soap touched that super-sensitive part made me gasp, and she asked innocently, "Does that hurt? I'm sorry, sweetie." To belie her words, she again spread the opening, and this time actually pushed her fingertip into it to force the soap even deeper.

Again I gasped with the intense burning, and she said, almost half to herself, "If I had an eyedropper, I could get soap suds a lot farther down in it. I'll have to ask Melissa if she has one I can borrow." She laughed to herself, and then began to wash my super-sensitive sac.

This time she truly was tender with me. I dreaded that she would be overcome by an impulse to squeeze my balls, and expected to momentarily feel her doing just that. To my great relief, she pronounced me clean, and told me to sit down again.

She had removed her housecoat in order to keep it dry, and as I looked at her, I could see that her nipples were almost halfway hard. That told me that she had been having more sex-related thoughts while washing me, and I just hoped that they didn't involve anything painful for me. Given our lifestyle now, I could almost bet they did.

As I lay back in the tub, she sat there with one arm resting on the edge, gazing thoughtfully at me for several seconds. I knew she was going to say something when she was ready, and was content to let her proceed at her own pace. Finally she said, "I wanted to tell you again how proud I am of you. If any of us ever had any doubts about you being a pain pig, they're all gone now. I wish I had a tape of me whipping your balls last night. Your cock started wilting right after the first stroke, and I was sure that was the end of it. It was simply amazing how, before I'd even got ready for the second stroke, your dick was standing up again."

"Not only was it standing up, it was even bigger and harder than before. And then by the third one, you were actually pushing your crotch toward me. I was sure that if you'd been able to talk, you'd have begged me to whip you even harder."

She stopped then and waited for me to comment. As well as I could, I told her how my brain had clicked at that point, and the pain simply disappeared. I told her that her assessment of me begging for more was 100% correct. I remember the intense need I had then to feel pain, and I simply could not. When I said that I'd actually wanted her to use a larger whip on me so I could feel the strokes, she smiled, then said, "All in good time, sweetie. Let's get you over this one first."

She paused then, gazing at my face in a dreamy, sensual manner, then said softly, "Tell me your dream now. I want to hear a story that was so hot it could make you have a wet dream just a few hours after having your balls whipped."

I had been expecting her to ask that, and was ready to begin. As I launched into my narration, I could feel that familiar tightness in my chest that told me I was becoming sexually aroused, and knew that it would be followed in short order by the beginning of an erection. I was sure that the agonizing pain would then return, despite the soothing effects of the water.

"We were in the back yard, getting ready for a party. We had invited all the neighbors to come over for a barbecue, and I had spent several house digging a large pit where the meat would be cooked. While digging, I was in constant pain from the burning rays of the sun. When I had my back to it, my butt seemed to be on fire. When I faced it, my cock and balls were similarly affected. It was then that I realized I was completely naked, and remembered that you had told me to work that way since you didn't want me to get my clothes dirty."

"Finally the fire pit was finished, and I stepped back to admire it. The hole was about five feet long, two feet wide, and two feet deep. There was a large stack of firewood beside the pit, and I knew that soon I'd put the wood in place and ignite it, so it could burn down to a bed of coals for the cooking."

"I looked up to see Melissa and Tom entering the yard, coming to help us get things ready for the guests. Tom was carrying two long metal poles with "V"-shaped brackets welded on one end of each. He brought the poles to the pit, and we used a large hammer to drive them deeply into the ground at each end, with the brackets at the top. We next piled the firewood in the hole and set it ablaze. As I stood there watching the wood blazing away, I experienced an intense burning in my cock and balls, and had to step back from the pit."

"Melissa said something about it being time to get started, and you agreed. You placed your hand on my cock, which I realized was standing almost straight up with my arousal, and then used it to pull me to the picnic table. Once there, you told me to stand at the end of the table, with my ass against it. As soon as I was in position, you ordered me to spread my legs as wide as I could get them, and to not even think about closing them, no matter what."

"I was quick to obey, and the action seemed to stimulate me even more. I looked down at my engorged cock, and was proud that it was so big. You placed your hand in the center of my chest and forced me to bend backwards until my upper body was lying on the tabletop. My hands were then drawn over my head, and once again you ordered me to keep them there no matter what."

"You and Melissa were standing in front of me, and I heard her say, 'It's simply beyond me how any adult male can have such small equipment. I don't know how you've been able to stand it for so long, sweetheart. It's no wonder that you need to use Tom so often.' You agreed with her, saying, 'I have to agree. Surely most little boys are bigger than he is. Oh well, I'm sure we can think of something to make them get a little bigger.' You both laughed at that, and then I saw you hold your hand out toward Tom."

"He gave you a piece of metal pipe that was about two feet long, and about one inch in diameter. I knew then what you had planned for increasing the size of my cock and balls. That was the first time I realized that you and Melissa were nude. Once again, I marveled at how perfect your bodies were, and how beautiful you were."

"You said, 'He'll probably start screaming when I start working on him. Lover, could you keep him quiet please?' Melissa said that she'd be glad to, and she climbed onto the table and lowered her crotch to my face. I immediately began tonguing her pussy, gazing up at her perfect breasts and thinking how lucky I was that she would consent to allow me to do this."

"She was trying to turn her head back over her shoulder to watch you, and finally said, 'Hold on a moment, sweetheart. I can't see well enough like this.' She then lifted up a small amount and turned her body until she was facing my crotch. As she settled into place on my mouth once again, she reached back and spread her cheeks, allowing my nose to be pressed tightly against her puckered hole. As my tongue begin its duty, I breathed deeply of the heady aroma she was allowing me to experience."

"Before I had time to begin enjoying the service I was giving, she said, 'Okay, I'm ready. Get him tenderized.' Before I could prepare myself for the blow, I felt the pipe strike my balls. I felt the agonizing pain burst throughout my entire body, and then the blow was repeated, again striking my sac directly. You continued beating my nuts until they had received twenty strokes, and then you gave the same amount to my cock. I remember thinking that very few husbands would be given that sort of loving attention, and thanked the powers that be for giving me to you to use as you wished."

"I heard you say, 'Lover, I can't swing this thing any more, and his things are still much too small. Could you help me, please?' She said that she'd be glad to help out, and climbed down from the table and took the pipe from you. As you were preparing to replace her on my face, I glanced quickly at my crotch, and was pleased to see that my cock was now almost half again as large as it had been a few minutes ago. My balls were swollen to a monstrous size, and I could see them bulging above my abdomen."

"You sat on my mouth, facing my crotch. I saw you reach back and spread your cheeks, then settle yourself heavily onto my face. I could feel my nose penetrating your other hole, and soon was breathing the most wonderful aroma possible. I wanted nothing more at that point than to be allowed to crawl completely inside you, and to become a part of your exquisite body."

"You told Melissa that you were ready, and she immediately began to repeat the beating you had given to my balls and my cock. With every blow, I would extend my tongue deeper into your pussy, wishing for the reward of your delicious juices."

"All too soon the beating ended, and you lifted off my face. I again looked at my crotch, and was extremely pleased to see that my cock was now even larger than before. My balls were mounds of writhing pain, and I could see them moving frantically within the imprisoning sac, trying to escape any further punishment."

"As you and Melissa stood there inspecting the results of your loving attention to my things, you said, 'Well, at least they're bigger than before. I think that's as good as we'll get, so we may as well get him ready.' She agreed with your assessment, and called to Tom to come help them get me on the table."

"The three of you then lifted me onto the tabletop, and I was told to stay there on my hands and knees. I lowered my head to give myself one last look at my cock and balls. I simply could not believe the size of the things, and felt extremely proud of them. My balls were easily larger than basketballs, and were so heavy that they had stretched to the tabletop, where they were resting. My cock was so long that I could have put it in my mouth and sucked on it with very little effort. Again, I was almost overcome with pride.

I heard you say to Tom, 'Oh, thanks Tom. I glad you got the spit. We're ready for it now.' When I turned my head to look at the other man, I saw him standing there holding a long metal rod, about eight feet long. One end of it had been sharpened to a long, tapering point. The other end had been bent in an "L" shape to form a handle. A metal bar about four feet long had been placed across the rod, close to the handle end, then welded in place. I could see that a pair of handcuffs had been cut in the center of their chain, and then the cut ends had been welded to the ends of the bar."

"Tom then walked around behind me, carrying the spit. You said to me, 'Honey, put your forehead on the tabletop, and then reach back and spread your cheeks.' I did as instructed, and then heard you say to Tom, 'Okay. Get it started.' An instant later, I felt the point of the spit pressing against my asshole, and soon felt it enter my body. When it was in me two or three inches, you told Tom to wait, and then said to me, 'Now put your hands on the table again. Try to hold your back as straight as possible.' I hurried to obey your instructions, and soon you told Tom to continue."

"You told him to go slowly, so that no serious injuries would be done inside me. You said, 'We need to keep him in good shape for as long as possible. Everyone knows that live-cooking gives the best results, and I want this party to be a success.' "

"Again the spit was pushed deeper into my body. I felt it pass my stomach, and then knew that it was finding its way around my lungs. Soon the point entered my throat, and I was afraid that it would choke me, causing you to be disappointed. I struggled to breathe, and was soon able to find enough room to allow me to take shallow breaths. You then said, 'Honey, raise your head now, and open your mouth. It's almost all the way through you.' I hurried to comply, and soon felt the spit enter my mouth and pass my lips. Tom kept pushing it slowly until it was almost three feet beyond my mouth, and then he stopped."

"The three of you then picked me up and turned me so that I was lying on my back on the picnic table. My legs were then drawn up so that my ankles could be placed in the handcuffs, holding my crotch widespread. Melissa said that something would have to be done with my hands, or I'd be playing with myself all the time, and would embarrass them in front of the guests. You said you'd already thought of that, and had just the thing to take care of that little problem."

"You then directed Melissa and Tom to bring my hands up to the spit in front of my head. While they held me in that position, you used wire to secure my wrists to the rod, making sure that I wouldn't be able to reach my penis. You then said, 'He's just about ready now. There's just one more thing to do.' You then walked down beside my crotch, and held out your hand toward Tom. He handed you about a dozen things that looked like very large knitting needles. You said by way of explanation, 'The last time I went to a barbecue, I noticed that the balls were unevenly cooked. These skewers will conduct the heat to the center of his things, and I'm sure that our guests will notice the difference.' You then began to push the skewers completely through my nuts, making sure they were evenly spaced."

"I had thought that all the skewers were in place, but could see that you were still holding two of them. You then directed Melissa and Tom to hold my balls against my crotch, saying, 'I need to fasten them in place there, or else they'll fall too close to the coals. I can't think of anything worse-tasting than burned balls, can you?' They laughed along with you and did as instructed. As they held my monstrous nuts against my body, you pushed a skewer completely through one of them and then deep into my abdomen, so that it was held in place."

"As soon as the second ball had been secured, you walked to my head and leaned over close to me. You kissed me on the lips then, saying, 'Goodbye, honey. It's so sweet of you to do this for me. Thank you. You're just the best husband ever.' I wanted with all my heart to be able to say to you that you didn't need to thank me. I wanted to tell you how much I loved you, and that being allowed to sacrifice my body for your pleasure was my role in life. I wanted to say all that and more, but could not utter even a single word because of the spit that had been pushed through my throat and mouth."

"After a final caress to my face, you said, 'Okay, it looks like he's all ready. Let's get him carried over there.' You and Melissa then lifted the front end of the spit while Tom lifted the back. When I had been carried about halfway to the fire pit, you said, 'Let's rotate this thing so he's face down. I want him to get a good look at the coals. That should make it more exciting for him.' "

"The three of you worked together to turn me face down, and then carried me the rest of the way to the fire pit. I began to feel the heat from the coals when I was still several feet away from them, and when the spit was at last lifted above the brackets at each end of the pit, then dropped into place, the heat was intensifed to the point that I had to fight to remain conscious."

"As I hung there over the coals, I could smell the hair burning from my body. You told Tom to turn the spit slowly so that all the hair would be burned away, saying, 'I can't think of anything more disgusting than finding a hair in my food. Make sure every single one is burned off him.' He complied by continuing to slowly turn the handle, and soon my body was facing to the side where you and Melissa were standing. You had your legs widespread, and she was kneeling in front of you with her head buried in your crotch. I could see the intense excitement on your face as you watched me being slowly cooked, and felt your lover's tongue on your pussy."

"I saw you silently mouth the words, 'I love you.' I wanted to scream out to you my thanks for being allowed to give you the pleasure of witnessing my agony. It was you who deserved the thanks, not I. My only purpose in life was to serve you, to bring you as much pleasure as possible, and by allowing me to do that, you became the most important thing on Earth."

"As I was slowly turned even more, I saw you spasm with your orgasm, and knew that in some small way I had brought that satisfaction to you. I longed to be able to do it even more, but knew that wasn't to be."

"As I reached the face-up position on the rotating spit, you were standing beside me. I heard you say, 'Honey, I need you to do one last thing for me. I want to baste you with your own cum, so please give me all of it you can.' You then placed both hands around my monstrously-engorged cock, and although I couldn't see what you were doing, knew that your fingers were unable to close on the thing. That made me even more proud, as I knew that my final hard-on was by far my largest ever. I felt you begin to stroke my burning penis, and then felt for the last time the sensation of my cum rising through the shaft. As it burst forth in long strings, you used your hands to spread it over my whole body, ensuring that the meat would be the best-tasting meal ever."

"Of course, that's when I woke up, with your hand on my cock, and a puddle of cum on my stomach."

Jen seemed to be completely oblivious to my presence then. I knew that she was deep in my fantasy, and was probably still standing beside the fire pit, basting my body with my cum. Her eyes were as glazed over as I had ever seen them, and her mouth was almost completly agape as she gasped for breath. I could see that one of her hands was busy in her crotch, and knew that once again my dreams had given her pleasure.

When she finally realized that I was no longer speaking, her eyes cleared slowly. Her breathing evened and her lips closed. She slowly brought her hand up from her pussy, and held it out to me. I leaned toward it and licked the delicious taste from her fingers, wishing there could be more. I have to admit that I was also aroused intensely by relating the dream to her, and the pain that was shooting from my now-erect penis, and my abused balls, was serving to make me more excited, rather than the opposite.

She stood then, and stepped into the tub with me. I thought that she intended to lower herself onto my member, and was pleased when she placed her knees on the back surface of the tub beside my head, and then lowered her pussy toward my hungry mouth. The degree of her arousal was evident as soon as I looked at her slit. I had rarely seen her clitoris, but now it was protruding from her body by almost half an inch. It was easy to see why it had been referred to as "a man in a boat" for many centuries. That's exactly what it called to my mind, but of course the poor fellow was upside down.

She was finally able to adjust the awkward position to allow her pussy to settle in place on my mouth. I instantly began licking her slit, thinking that was what she would want. Instead, she moved to place her clit directly between my lips and ordered huskily, "Suck it! Hurry! Suck my clit while I'm cooking you! Do it, damn you!"

Her response was immediate. As soon as my lips closed, and I vigorously sucked the thing into my mouth, she cried out with the intensity of her release. I placed my hands on her hips to prevent her falling, and simply held on and sucked while she orgasmed. Her climax was shorter than normal for her, probably due to the intense one that she had last night while feeding Tom's cum to me. However, the duration was more than compensated for by the obvious pleasure she derived from it.

As soon as the spasms were over, she carefully climbed out of the tub. Without taking any further notice of me, she put on her housecoat and walked out of the bathroom. Her parting words to me were, "Rinse off and come out to kitchen for some more of that salve. Try not to play with yourself in the meantime."

Playing with myself was the farthrest thing from my mind just then. With her stimulating presence removed, all I felt from my crotch was pain. If Jen had been there with me, I know with a certainty that the pain would have been arousing to me. Without her, it was just an almost overpowering hurt.

I hurriedly rinsed, then slowly got out of the tub. After towelling off, I began to make my slow and painful way to the kitchen, half in fear, and half in excited expectation, that she would have an arousing story to tell me, as she had the last time. Before I had even reached the bedroom door, it became obvious that my walk to the kitchen would take some time. Every time I took a step, the rubbing of my legs against my sac, and the slight jarring, caused agonizing jolts of lightning to shoot throughout my body. I wished many times during that walk that we had bought a much smaller house.

As before, Jen was sipping a cup of coffee when I finally arrived. I very gingerly and slowly lowered myself into a chair at the table, knowing that it was either that or collapse on the floor. I tried to adjust my balls so they weren't touching anything at all, but soon found that impossible. When I finally took note of my surroundings, there was a fresh cup of coffee setting on the table in front of me. I thanked Jen for getting it for me, and we sat in silence for what seemed like a long time.

When Jen at last cleared her throat, I knew that she had organized her thoughts and was ready to talk to me. She began by saying, "David, we need to have a very important talk." I knew right away that the subject really was important, because she very rarely addresses me by my name, normally using terms of endearment. To show her I was ready to listen, I nodded my head and waited for her to continue.

"I've told you before it's my belief that our relationship, in sexual terms, is heading for some pretty strong stuff. The three dreams you've had only serve to confirm that to me, and Melissa has said she agrees, based on the first two. I know that as soon as you tell her about the third one, she'll agree even more strongly."

"There is no way to describe to you the excitement I feel when you relate those dreams to me. When I think about doing things like that to you I get so damned hot I can barely breathe. All the time you were describing the one you had this morning, I was visualizing doing it. It seemed so real to me that when I was beating your cock and balls with the pipe, my hands were actually closed so tightly that my fingernails left marks on my palms. When you described the spit being pushed through your body, I was staring at your mouth, waiting to see the thing coming through. When the skewers were being pushed through your balls, I wanted to do that to you with all my heart. And at the last, when we had hung you over the fire, I could actually smell your hair burning, and see your skin crisping as the heat cooked you."

"It's not only that the fantasies are very strong, which they certainly are. It's that I really and truly want to do those things to you. I want to hear you screaming with the agonizing pain I give you, and I want it to go on forever. Now, I'm sure that all this is frightening you." Here she paused and looked directly at me, waiting for a response.

I said simply, "No, I'm not frightened, because I want the same thing. You can't know the intensity of arousal you cause in me when you have me in Melissa's garage. There's simply no way for me to describe how very, very much I want you to torture me in ways that are as painful as possible. Right now my cock and balls hurt so much that I can barely draw a normal breath, but when I'm here with you, I find that pain exciting. You can see what it does to me." Saying that, I struggled to my feet, displaying my erection to her.

The fact that she didn't smile then, but merely nodded and continued, told me that we had entered a new phase of our relationship. When she uttered the next words, I knew for sure that my guess was correct.

"I want us to go to the next level, and your dreams seem to indicate that you do too. By the next level, I mean that I truly want to hurt you, and do so in ways that will leave permanent marks on your body. The whipping I gave you last night left marks, but they're only temporary. They'll fade in a few days, and then there will be no way that others can tell you're my possession."

"It's that obsession that makes me afraid I'll do something to you that will cause the police to become involved. Melissa has told me about some of the men who have been brought into the emergency room after being tortured in extreme ways by their wives or lovers. As an example, the woman who cooked the head of her husband's penis so thoroughly that it had to be removed was charged with felonious assault. The husband simply refused to co-operate with the prosecution, so very little could be done to her. However, either by accident or design, the story was spread around. As you can imagine, the couple had to leave town because of all the notoriety. I don't want that to happen to us."

I nodded my head to show her that I understood the problem. We both wanted her to torture me, but if she did, the chance was there that our lives would be ruined. It seemed a problem with no solution. Finally I asked quietly, "What can we do?"

She considered her answer for some time before saying softly, "We can do what Melissa and Tom are going to do." Again she paused, as if waiting for me to ask the implied question. When I said nothing, she continued. "I'm sure you remember me telling you sometime in the past that Melissa wants to get rid of Tom, and have me get rid of you, so that we can live together without either of you to come between us." Again she paused, and this time I nodded to show that I did indeed recall that conversation.

"She has decided that the time will soon come when she's going to do it."

That simple statement shook me to the core of my being. I was being told that the man who I considered my rival, who had a featured place in my erotic dreams, and who just a few short hours ago was fucking my wife so that I could be forced to lick her clean, was going to be killed by his wife. I found it very difficult to come to terms with that idea, and took quite a long time to formulate my next question.

I asked, "How is she going to do it to him so that the police don't get involved?"

Jen looked at me carefully, as if weighing my trustworthiness, then at last asked the question, "Do you remember her referring to their vacation, right after you had told us about your second dream?" I nodded again, and she launched into her story.

"She's known for several years that their relationship had only one ending, and Tom came to that realization about the time I was introducing you to necktie play." I thought back to those games that had seemed so extreme at the time, but were now merely amusing. That caused me to see more clearly than ever how much we had advanced in our sex play, and I knew that my wife was correct in her assessment. She continued, "When he finally admitted that he wanted her to torture him to death, she told him about all the problems that could create for her, and then she said that she was making him responsible for devising a plan for doing it, and that would leave her free and clear."

"It took him about six months to design a foolproof plan. When he finally approached her with it, she tried every which way she could to tear it apart, and never found any weak spots in it. She finally admitted that it would work, and they agreed to put it in motion during their upcoming vacation. Do you want to hear about the plan?"

I tried to speak then, but was simply unable to form words, even after clearing my throat several times. At last, I nodded, and she continued, "Before I tell you, I must have a definite committment from you. Surely you can see the trouble you could cause if you ran to the police? Because of that, I must have your sworn word that you will place yourself in my complete power, and that you agree that I will from now on make all decisions regarding our lives. If you don't agree to that, then our marriage will end. After tasting the excitement, the thrill, the arousal that comes with torturing a man, I simply can't live any other way. How much time do you want to make your decision?"

What I did then caused me about as much pain as anything up to that point. I slid out of my chair, almost smashing my balls, and got on my knees on the floor. I inched my way over to her with my head bowed. When I finally reached her side, I said, "Jennifer, my wife, I am your total slave and possession. My body, my heart, my soul, all belong to you to do whatever you will with them. I pledge to obey you in all things, regardless of the penalty to me. You may ask anything of me; I will do it. Please accept me."

There was complete silence for so long that I thought maybe she was never going to answer me. Finally she placed her hand under my chin and raised my face to her. I could see traces of tears in her eyes, and knew then the reason she hadn't responded sooner. When she leaned over and kissed me passionately, I thought my heart would burst with joy. When we at last broke the kiss, she whispered in a husky voice, "I accept you as my slave. I accept your body to torture in the most extreme ways I can devise. Your life is in my hands to take as I will."

She then gave the first order ever as my true mistress, saying, "Get back in your chair. I'm going to tell you exactly what is going to happen to you in the near future, so you can know the joy of looking forward to it." I then moved as quickly as possible to obey her, reveling in the pain that shot through my body as I again seated myself in the chair. As soon as I was in place, she began to explain the plan that Tom had devised for ending his life in a way that would leave his wife entirely innocent.

"As I've already told you, Melissa is going to get rid of Tom when they're on their vacation. If you remember her comment Saturday, she said that we should accompany them. When I was waiting for you to walk from the bathroom to the kitchen, I called her and told her we would be going with them. You can see how sure I am of you. I didn't doubt for an instant that you'd agree to my demands, and so I've already made the arrangements for your final session."

"We'll be leaving here on the first day of May, which is approximately seven months in the future. We'll drive down to Corpus Christi, and pick up a cabin cruiser that will have been reserved for us. When we get the boat, you and Tom will make sure that the people at the rental agency know that you're both extremely interested in snorkeling in the Gulf. After we leave Corpus, we'll make our way outside of Padre Island, and then head south almost as far as Mexico."

"There's a special cove down there that Melissa and Tom found three years ago when they were on vacation by themselves. Apparently there's something about that particular cove that attracts large numbers of sharks, and during the springtime, they congregate there."

"The boat that we rent will have a thing on it called a cargo boom. It just a big aluminum pipe that's attached horizontally to a center mast on the inboard end. The outboard end has a pulley mounted on it, and a rope runs from a winch on the mast, through the pulley, and then downward to a free end. The thing is used to get heavy stuff on board by swinging it out over the dock, tying the cargo to the rope, and then winching it up and swinging it on board."

"When we arrive at the cove, the boat will be anchored. We plan to spend several days torturing you two in the most painful ways we can think of. Everything we've always wanted to do to you will not only be allowed, it'll be required. When you no longer provide any entertainment value to us, Tom will be taken on deck and you'll be tied to something so you can watch. I think the anticipation of knowing exactly what's going to be done to you a few minutes later will be very arousing to you. You should have a ball."

"There will be a hangman's noose tied in the cargo boom rope, and it'll be placed over his neck and tightened and adjusted. He won't be tied in any other way, because he'll need his hands free, as you'll see. As soon as we have all our equipment ready, we'll play with what's left of his cock and balls, giving him his final hard-on. Melissa will then wrap surgical tubing, as tightly as she can, around the base of his cock and behind his balls. After it's tied in place another piece of tubing will be tied around his shaft a fraction of an inch above the first piece."

"Melissa will then remove one of his nuts and throw it in the water. That should cause the sharks to gather beside the ship, hoping for more snacks. His second nut will then be removed, and also thrown to the sharks. By that time, they'll have developed a taste for his flesh, and will be hungry for more. She'll place her knife blade between the two pieces of tubing and then slowly cut through his penis. The tubing close to his body will keep him from bleeding to death too soon, and the one on his cock will keep it hard even when she cuts it off."

"After she has shown the thing to him, and made him kiss it goodbye, it'll become just more shark bait. She'll then go to the winch and begin to tighten the rope. As it tightens, he'll instinctively grab ahold of it to keep himself from being strangled."

"As soon as his feet are high enough to clear the railing, she'll swing the boom out far enough to get him over the water, but close enough for her to reach. At that point, the tubing will be cut free. As you can probably imagine, his blood will begin draining from the hole where his cock used to be, and it'll drip into the water, exciting the sharks still more."

"Her final act will be to very slowly lower him toward the water. The blood running out of him will drive the sharks crazy, and they'll be waiting for him. Melissa wants to time the lowering so that his arms are still strong enough to support him when he reaches the water. That way he'll be able to enjoy being torn apart and eaten by the sharks."

"After we've done you, we'll use the radio to call the Coast Guard. After that, it'll be a simple matter of playing the roles of distraught wives who saw their husbands snorkeling, and then were attacked by sharks. I think we're both intelligent enough to carry it off, don't you?"

To say I was in shock would be an understatement. A person reading this, who is not an ardent masochist, will simply not understand when I say that the foremost emotion I had at that point was overpowering lust. My cock was at full staff and aching with every nerve ending available to it. My balls were burning with the fires of Hell, mostly because during Jen's tale, I had been crossing my legs as strongly as I could in order to increase the pain they were feeling. I was pressing my ass into the seat of the hard wooden chair, trying to let it share in the excitement I was feeling. All in all, my lust was at a point where I needed all the pain I could get, and if Jen wouldn't give it to me, then I'd do what I could on my own.

I don't know how many times I had to clear my throat before I was able to speak. Finally I answered in a hoarse whisper, "I have no doubt whatsoever about that. I've never known a woman who thinks as clearly as you do, and I know that Melissa has to be very intelligent also, or you would never have chosen her as your lover."

She then asked, "Now that you know what's in store for you, have you changed your mind?" In answer, I simply shook my head, then was finally able to say, "No. I gave my pledge to you to obey, and I intend to keep my word. I just hope that you're able to extend the torture sessions as much as possible before you feed me to the sharks."

She smiled dreamily at that, then said, "Don't you worry your pretty little head on that score, dear heart. Melissa is already collecting medical supplies that will be used to keep the two of you ready for more. We've made a list of the things we're going to do to you, and she thinks, based on her training, you'll be useful to us for three days. Should be some fun times, don't you think?"

Again all I could do was nod in affirmation, already wondering what was on that list. I knew it would do no good to ask, since Jen was a great one for accentuating the power of anticipation. I had to agree that fantasizing about the torture would definitely provide longer-term entertainment than actually reading the list.

The last thing she said to me as she left the room to get dressed, prior to going to Melissa's house for sex, was, "Here is my order, slave. You are to spend all your spare time from now until May searching the Internet for new and inventive ways for you and Tom to be tortured. Nothing is off limits, so I want complete descriptions of everything you find. Now get busy."

I hobbled to the den, where our computer is set up, and began my search. I've written this story and posted it on this Website because I believe the Eunuch Archive is one of the best sites widely available for finding inventive tortures. I've gleaned many new ideas from the stories posted here, even those that are so poorly written as to be barely readable. Hopefully, my story will serve to suggest new things to try to all the other masochists, and their mistresses or masters, who read it.

Goodbye.