Necktie Party, Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I don't believe that Jen and I exchanged even a single word as we walked home, and then as we prepared for bed. When we were finally lying there with our arms entwined, she whispered to me, "I'm just so proud of you that I could burst. When Melissa saw your cock begin to wilt after the first couple of strokes with my new whip, I'm sure she was feeling pretty smug. But then when it shot back up, she was green with envy. Tom got soft every time she whipped him for at least the first month, but you were able to stay hard with no problems during your first session, and even this time when I used the new leather on you."

I was, of course, filled with a warm glow, and this warm glow had nothing to do with the raging fires in my ass and cock. I was lying on my side, trying to minimize the contact of my butt with the sheet, and trying to keep my poor penis in a protected spot. I couldn't imagine what sort of pain would be mine if my balls were indeed whipped during the next session, as seemed to be my fate.

Jen removed all doubt on that question just then by saying, "I just know that you'll stay hard when I whip your balls the next time. I can't wait to show her how brave you are. Did you hear how Tom squealed tonight when she just barely touched his nuts? I'll bet that you'd have just spread your legs even wider, and invited her to whip them again." I was certainly in doubt about that, but, again, was overwhelmed with pride that Jen had such confidence in me.

As we both drifted off to sleep, I heard her mumble drowsily, "I'm so proud. You really are a pain pig." A second later, I heard the very soft, single snore that she always makes when she falls asleep. I again tried to find a position that would allow me to also sleep, and finally was slightly successful. As I too drifted into dreamland, my final conscious thought was to wonder just exactly what was a "pain pig". I assumed that I'd soon find out, since our relationship was obviously headed in that direction.

__________________

Again I awoke to the knowledge that I'd had an intensely erotic dream, and it was confirmed by the wet spot in front of my crotch. Strangely enough, my butt didn't hurt nearly as much this time as it had the first. It still burned with internal fire, of course, but it was not as intense as what I'd experienced after the first session. However, the lack of pain in my ass was more than compensated for by the lightning stabs and intense burning in my penis. I wondered if I had been injured beyond repair, but finally decided that I'd received nothing more than Tom had been getting for quite awhile now, and he had seemed to survive.

I was finally able to get out of bed, and could tell that Jen had been up for awhile ahead of me. I made my way to the bathroom, and decided to again try to soothe my wounds by sitting in a warm tub of water. After relieving myself, I ran the bath and then slowly lowered myself into it. As before, the warm water was very comforting, and I was soon lying back and letting my mind run wild.

As I reviewed the dream I'd just awakened from, my cock began to stiffen. The pain caused by the stretching and expanding caused the thing to deflate momentarily, and then it seemed to catch its second wind, and again started to lengthen. Just at that moment, Jen opened the bathroom door and stepped in. She looked at my crotch, then asked in a mock-severe tone, "Have you been playing with that damned thing again?"

I tried to smile through the pain I was in, and replied that I didn't have much control over it anymore. I tried to deflect her by saying that it had probably known she was near, and wanted to stand up and look around. She smiled at that, but wasn't so easily distracted. She asked, "What were you thinking of to make it try to 'stand up and look around', as you said?"

I knew right away there was no way I could satisfy her curiosity except to tell her the truth. I said, "I had another wet dream just before I woke up, and it's still on my mind."

Her interest was immediately evident, and she ordered me to satisfy her, saying, "Tell me right now about the dream. Don't you dare leave out any juicy details either."

Instead of trying to evade the issue, I simply began telling her about the dream.

"It involved the four of us again. What was different this time was that we were apparently camping together somewhere, which is odd, since you and I have never done that. I don't know about Melissa and Tom. Anyway, we had arrived at our campsite for the night after walking all day to reach it. We were miles from anywhere, and were totally dependent on whatever supplies we'd carried with us."

"You and Melissa were going to prepare supper for us, and Tom and I were to erect the tents and get the other stuff ready for the night. You were looking through the backpacks to see what food supplies Tom and I had packed, when suddenly you yelled at us, 'Where did you guys hide the food anyway? I can't find anything at all to eat'."

"We paused in what we were doing and looked at one another. You had told me that he was to take care of the food, and he glanced at me and whispered that Melissa had told him I was in charge of the food. When the realization dawned on us that we were many miles from the nearest grocery store, and had nothing to eat, we just looked sheepishly at the ground. Melissa had been listening in, and was quick to ask, 'Do you mean to tell me that you two numb-nuts didn't pack any food at all? We're out here in the wilderness with nothing to eat?' We both nodded our heads, too ashamed to look at her."

"Finally she said, 'All right. I guess it can't be helped now, but the fact is that you two had the responsibility of bringing something for us to eat, and now you're going to have to live up to that responsibility. You can't expect Jen and I to simply go without eating for two days.' You nodded your head in agreement, and said something about people who couldn't act responsibly had to pay the penalty for it."

"Tom and I had no idea what was expected of us, but it was obvious that you and Melissa had something in mind. When she opened her backpack and took out some short lengths of cord, and two hangman's nooses, we thought that her intention was to punish us for our oversight."

"She ordered us to strip, and be quick about it. We were both so anxious for another session that we actually raced one another to see who could be the first to get naked. It appeared to be a dead heat, and virtually at the same instant both of us were standing there in the nude, with our cocks beginning to stiffen in the late-afternoon air."

"You looked up at a large tree that was standing over our campsite, and said, 'That first limb should do nicely, don't you think?' Melissa approved your suggestion and handed you one of the nooses, which you immediately tossed over the limb. She followed suit, and soon there were two nooses swinging about six feet off the ground."

"As soon as Tom and I understood what was expected of us, we hurried to stand beneath our respective ropes, with our feet together and hands behind our backs. Soon our wrists were tied securely in place, and we waited impatiently for our ankles to be similarly bound."

"We heard you and Melissa talking softly behind us, and then all was silent for several minutes. We were sure that you had walked into the underbrush, as if you were looking for something. Just what that thing could be was revealed to us in short order, when the two of you returned to positions in front of us. Melissa was holding a tree limb that was easily longer than twice my height. We then knew what was planned for us, and were quick to spread our legs to the maximum amount. I noticed that you were holding two short, straight branches that were about 2" around, and maybe two feet long. There was no clue about their purpose, but I assumed that we'd find out very soon."

"You knelt at my feet, and Melissa at Tom's, and quickly secured our outside ankles to the ends of the makeshift spreader bar. I could feel that my cock was at its hardest by then, and a sideways glance told me that Tom's was also. I was amazed at how large his penis was, thinking that it was surely over a foot long, and almost as big around as my arm. I looked down at my own tool, and saw that it was about 3" shorter, and also smaller in diameter. Still, it was the biggest erection I'd ever had, and I was proud of it."

"As soon as our ankles had been secured to the ends of the branch, you tied one end of a rope to my other ankle and passed the free end to Melissa. She looped the rope a couple of times around Tom's free ankle, and then the two of you began pushing our legs toward one another while Melissa pulled the rope end. By the time my left ankle was beside his right ankle, the stretching I felt in my crotch was truly horrible. It seemed to be inevitable that the skin there would soon split wide open. Tom's whimpering made it evident that he was feeling the same sort of pain, but he quieted when Melissa gave him a severe look."

"When our ankles met, they were bound together, and then to the center of the branch. The nooses were slipped over our heads, and then tightened and adjusted. Both of you walked behind us, and soon I felt the rope tighten. You continued to lift me until only my toes were in contact with the ground, and as before, my throat was so constricted that I could barely breathe."

"Melissa then said, 'That should hold them while we get things ready for supper.' You agreed with her assessment, and the two of you began to gather small branches which you then stacked about 20' in front of us. You kindled a fire while Melissa spread a blanket between us and there. As soon as the wood was blazing away, you said, 'It should take about 15 minutes for this to burn down to a bed of coals, and be ready for the frying pan. What do you suppose we should do for entertainment in the meantime?' Melissa didn't say anything, but simply pulled you to her and kissed you passionately. I could see you respond, and wasn't surprised when you soon began to undress one another."

"When you were both naked, you turned to us. Melissa said something about the need for their supper to be tenderized before it was cooked, and you both walked up to us and picked up the two branches that you had found. I heard her say, 'Their oysters should be tender enough already, but they're so tiny that we'll need to do something to make them big enough to be worth our time. Can you think of anything that would make them swell to a larger size?' You both laughed at her joke, and then in answer you said, 'Try this', and swung your branch upwards directly at my balls."

"The pain that exploded in my crotch was truly horrible. It immediately blossomed throughout my entire body, and I feared that I was going to pass out. Despite my best efforts, I began to whimper and tears began to flow from my eyes. I heard a similar sound from Tom, and knew that Melissa was also 'tenderizing' his nuts. Again and again you swung the club at my crotch, finally stopping to say, 'That's ten of my best. Do you suppose that's enough?' Melissa had also stopped beating her husband's balls, and agreed that you two should get the other things ready, and then check on the size of our 'little peanuts' after awhile."

"You walked to your backpack and took out a large frying pan and a small bottle of cooking oil. Melissa had taken salt and pepper shakers and steak sauce out of hers, and you both met at the fire to check its condition. I knew then that this whole thing had been a setup, and you had conspired to make sure that neither Tom nor I would bring any food supplies. The meaning of your comment about the food being our responsibility, and we would have to pay for our lapse, was crystal clear to me then. I knew then just what it was that you and Melissa intended to eat for supper, and just what sort of 'oysters' were on the menu."

"By that time, the fire had been reduced to a glowing bed of coals, and you pronounced it perfect for cooking. Melissa reached in her backpack and brought out a steak knife. You took out a similar utensil that you had asked me to sharpen just a week before. I remember you insisting that I get it as 'sharp as a razor', and I had worked a long time with my whetstone in order to do that. Now I knew that I'd been sharpening the tool that would unman me."

"You both knelt in front of Tom, and Melissa said, "Well, they're not a whole lot bigger, but I'm too hungry to wait any longer. Now watch closely and I'll show you how to do this.' She then held the point of the knife right under the base of Tom's cock, and in the center of the sac. (It didn't occur to me at the time to wonder how I was able to see that, but now know that once again I had a double vantage point, as in the first dream.)"

"She pressed the point lightly, until it just barely penetrated the skin, and then drew the blade downward, opening the front of the sac. When she reached the bottom of the thing, she asked you to lift his balls so she could complete the cut. When you took his nuts in your hands, I was overcome with jealousy, and wanted to cry out to you to do it to me, not him. I think in the back of my mind, I knew that my turn would come."

"After you lifted his sac, Melissa continued the cut until she reached the top of his sac, near his asshole. She then turned the blade sideways and began cutting around the neck. After you had lowered his balls once again, she completed the circuit of the blade, and began removing the two flaps of skin that were once his ball bag. From my position by the fire, I could see his nuts fall until only the connecting cords were supporting them. Although they were swollen, they weren't any bigger than baseballs. My own balls felt like they were at least twice that size, and were throbbing and burning beyond anything I'd ever thought possible."

"Melissa then again asked you to hold his nuts, and you took one in each hand, squeezing them viciously. Again Tom tried to cry out due to the agonizing pain you were giving him, but all he could manage was a slight squeal, followed by more whimpers. I vowed to face my ordeal with more bravery when my turn came."

"As soon as you had stretched his balls away from his body, Melissa placed the knife across the cords and sliced through them. You held them up to me and smiled, saying, 'Don't get impatient, honey. As soon as we eat these appetizers, we'll be back for yours.' You both turned and walked to the fire, where the bed of coals was glowing brightly in the waning light. Once there, Melissa placed the frying pan on the coals, and then poured a small amount of cooking oil into it."

"She took one of her husband's balls from you, and then carefully trimmed away the remnants of the cord. She supervised your efforts in doing the same to the other one, and then she began slicing the things and dropping them in the pan. Soon the aroma of cooking meat filled the air, and I heard my stomach growl. We had eaten nothing but trail snacks since morning, and my appetite was stimulated by the aroma of Tom's cooking balls, and rather than being filled with revulsion, I secretly hoped that you'd share them with me."

"After turning the slices a couple of times, Melissa pronounced them done, and used a fork to lift them onto plates you were holding. You each sprinkled some salt and pepper on the meat, and then added a little steak sauce. As you began slowly bringing the first bite to your mouths, my remote self looked at Tom's face. I saw there expressions of dread and regret, followed in short order by those of lust. When Melissa chewed and swallowed the first bite, he began to silently weep."

"After the two of you had eaten the first slices, you pronounced them delicious, and quickly finished off the rest. You were the first to say, 'I'm still hungry. How about you?' Melissa agreed with your statement, and without another word you both walked toward me. I tensed my body in anticipation of what you would soon be doing to me, and hoped that I could face it in a way that would make you proud."

The two of you knelt in front of my wide-stretched crotch, completely ignoring my engorged penis. You were once again holding the steak knife that I'd sharpened for you just last week, and I knew that my time as a man was near its end. As Melissa had done with her husband, you pushed the point slightly beneath the skin of the sac, and then began drawing it downward. I immediately felt a line of fire being traced between my legs, and was sure you were using a burning stick on me. My 'other' self was watching as you began my castration, and I could see through his eyes that it really was the knife blade."

"When you reached the bottom on the sac, Melissa lifted it to allow you access to the back part. Your cut line continued toward my asshole, and then turned sideways to trace a path around the neck. As Melissa had done a short while before, you then peeled away the two halves of the sac, leaving my balls hanging in the cool evening air."

"I expected you to ask Melissa to hold my nuts while you severed the cords, but instead you said there was something else you wanted to try first. She just grinned at you, saying, 'Go for it girl. There's plenty of time.' I saw you stand and walk toward the fire, marveling at the beauty of your naked body, and how your rounded ass swayed as you walked. I wanted nothing more than to bury myself in you, and give you all the pleasure I could. I realized that you were finding pleasure in my body at that time also, but in an entirely different way. I also realized that I wanted you to pleasure yourself as much as possible at my expense, and decided that if my agony pleased you, then I welcomed it."

"You soon returned holding a small stick. One end of the stick had been set afire when you held it to the coals, and how it was blazing brightly. As soon as I saw that, I knew what you intended, and I was filled with fear and dread. Surely I couldn't bear the pain you were about to give me! I would either pass out or begin to cry, and either would embarrass you and shame me."

"You once again knelt in front of me and held out the burning stick. Melissa had been chuckling since seeing what you were doing at the fire, and she now broke into laughter. She could barely speak because of her laughter, but finally managed to say, 'I like the way you think girl. Go for it. There's no rule that says the cooking has to be done in the pan, is there?' You agreed with her, saying that you were curious if there would be a different taste when they were cooked this way."

"As you finally moved the torch beneath my freed balls, I knew that there was no way for me to stand the pain. At the first touch of the flames on my naked balls, my abdomen literally exploded with pain and fire. I began to buck so wildly that you had difficulty holding the burning stick in the correct place to assure proper cooking."

"I felt myself blacking out, and struggled to fight it. My other self watched me 'air dancing' there, while my balls were slowly cooked by the torch you were holding beneath them. The watcher knew that he was seeing this as it happened to him, but at the same time, it was someone else he was watching being tortured. His cock was just as hard as the man whose balls were being cooked, and he yearned for the same treatment. I know that part is pretty hard to understand, but that's exactly how it seemed to me."

"Finally you asked Melissa to see if they were cooked thoroughly. She pushed the point of her knife into the center of first one of my nuts, and then the other. She said, 'Looks good, sweetie. Let's eat. I'm starved.' She was holding the plates under my crotch then, and you began to remove slices and let them drop. Soon everything but the cords had been removed, and the two of you returned to the fire for your meal. You sat on the blanket that was spread on the ground, adding salt and pepper and steak sauce to your meal, and then began to slowly eat it. I clearly remember you saying that you preferred pan frying for taste, but that cooking in place was lots more fun. Melissa agreed, and then you were silent as you hungrily ate the meal that I had provided for you."

"You both cleaned your plates, and you said that it was time for bed. You said that you were tired from the long walk, and from all the work you had to do in order to get a little something to eat, and that you wanted to feel Melissa's tongue in your pussy before you fell asleep. She agreed that she was exhausted, and certainly wanted to lick your cunt, and have you lick hers, before calling it a day. She then asked, 'What are we going to do about breakfast? I'm sure we'll be hungry again by then. Eating pussy is nice, but we certainly can't survive on it.' You both had a good laugh at that, and finally you suggested, 'Well, we could have tube steak for breakfast, if you want.' You both turned to look at our crotches, and the monstrously engorged penises jutting from them."

"Melissa said, 'Sounds good. I have just one suggestion though. I think we should tenderize them now, so we won't have to do it in the morning when we're still sleepy.' You agreed with her, saying, 'Good idea. Let's get it over with right now, and then get busy in the tent. I can't wait to taste you, and see how it compares to our supper.' Again you both laughed, then stood and walked toward us."

"You wasted no time in picking up your 'tenderizers', and then taking up positions in front of and slightly beside us. As I watched from my vantage point by the fire, you both began to use the clubs beat our cocks. The pain I felt at that time was nothing compared to what you had given me with the burning stick, but it was still agonizing. Again and again, you brought the branch smashing down on my stiff penis, and each stroke seemed to make it grow more. I began to silently implore you to please hit it harder, to get a larger branch, to beat it to a bloody pulp. I could feel my excitement reach a fever pitch, and finally my cock began to spurt in its long-awaited orgasm. As you beat the thing, it shot cum several feet in front of my hanging body, and it seemed to continue forever."

"Of course, that's when I woke up. And of course, there was the expected wet spot on the sheets." I had been watching Jen's lovely face all the time I was describing my dream to her, and saw her expression pass from mild interest, to intense interest, and finally to lustful arousal.

My bath water had cooled by that time, and I was glad to obey when she said sharply, "Get out of there and get on the floor! Do it now!" I moved as quickly as I could, given the pain I was feeling due to the whipping she'd given me the night before. I immediately lay on the floor on my back, with my erection sticking straight up from my abdomen.

In one quick movement, she straddled my body, then lowered her crotch to mine, guiding my cock inside her. I experienced immediate feelings of pleasure and pain as my penis penetrated her intensely-hot pussy. Re-visiting the dream had created a high degree of arousal in me, and I immediately began to move my hips up and down. She grabbed my nipples and pinched them as hard as she could, and cried out, "Cum now, damn you! Do it!"

Her command was all it took to begin my orgasm, and with a final upward thrust, my balls began to empty their load into her body. I was too absorbed in my own climax to know if she had one also, but that question was answered at the moment when my cock ceased spurting, and she screamed at me, "Damn you to Hell! I didn't cum! Can't you control yourself at all?!"

She then lifted herself off my cock and moved forward. As she settled her cum-filled pussy on my mouth, she commanded, "Eat me, damn you! You left me hanging again! Do it! Lick up your cum! Suck it out of me!"

I had never in my life performed oral sex on her following intercourse, and was momentarily stunned by her ordering me to do so now. Because she had given me no time to cool down following my orgasm, I was still aroused. As soon as she settled in place, I began to lick, tasting the salty sperm that I'd deposited there moments before. She began to move back and forth on my tongue, allowing me to get every drop that covered her slit. A few moments later, she positioned her hole directly over my mouth and said, "Suck it. Do it now. Hurry."

I knew she was very close to cumming, since her engorged clitoris was extended so far that it was actually in my mouth. I was sure that had never happened before, and knew that she was probably more aroused that she'd ever been with me. I was quick to obey her order, and began to suck her pussy. My reward was a mouthful of my own jism, and I struggled to swallow it before it choked me. In the back of my mind was the thought that Tom already knew the taste I was now receiving, but before I could pursue that thought, Jen began to orgasm.

If I had thought that I had sucked her clean, I now realized my error. The remnants of my load shot from her pussy with more force that I would have thought possible. Surely no man could have ejaculated with more force than my wife did at that time. I again tried to swallow what she'd given me, and was finally successful.

At last her spasms subsided, and she slumped forward, with her hands on the floor to support herself. It was several minutes before she could speak, but finally she said in a husky whisper, "God! That was great. I didn't know that I could cum like that. Thank you. Your dream was the hottest thing I've ever heard. I just know that Melissa will agree with me when you tell it to her and Tom."

I was immediately embarrassed to think of telling such an intensely personal thing to our friends, but knew that when the time came, that is exactly what I would do. Although I dreaded to think of it now, I knew that when our next session began, I would want the women to do their utmost to give me the pain I so craved.

Jen finally stood up, and it was only then that I realized that I had been reflexively licking her cunt during the entire time she'd been sitting on my face. I knew that I had been licking up whatever traces I could find of the load of cum that I'd ejaculated into her several minutes ago, and then swallowing them. That brought an immediate flashback to the end of last night's session, when I'd seen Tom running his tongue around the inside of his mouth, and then swallowing. Could it be that men actually craved the taste of semen? To my knowledge, I'd never in my life tasted the stuff up until a few minutes ago, and now, rather than being repulsed by it, actually seemed to want more.

In the flash of a second that I had that thought, I also had the image of me kneeling in front of Tom with his dick in my mouth pumping out its load. That image did indeed repulse me, and I had no urge whatsoever to even explore it further, let alone actually do it. I sincerely hoped that I'd again prove to be the best man at the next session, and any cock-sucking would be done by Tom, not me.

Jen told me that she had some salve that Melissa had given her, and she wanted to rub it on my ass and cock. However, she said, she absolutely refused to touch 'my thing' when it was all covered with slime. I decided to get back in the cool bath water to wash and rinse my crotch, and did so. I was surprised to find that the now almost-cold water was more soothing than the warm water had been, and would try to remember that after the next session. I was sure that after my balls had been whipped, as Jen seemed to be promising, and as I seemed to be craving, they would need all the soothing they could get.

She told me to not get dressed after I got out of the tub, but to join her in the kitchen, where she'd apply the salve. I had no inclination to linger in the water, and soon had washed myself. After toweling off, I remained in the nude and walked to the kitchen.

Jen was again sitting at the table sipping a cup of coffee when I arrived, and I got a cup for myself before walking to the table. She looked at me with a sly smile on her face, then said, "Now that's the way a man should be dressed when he's with a woman. Don't you agree?" I laughed at her little joke, saying, "Whatever you say, mistress."

I had chuckled again after saying that, but she didn't join in. Instead, she asked, "Do you think of me as your mistress? I mean in terms of a mistress-slave relationship?" I could see that she was completely serious about her question, rather than amused by my use of that particular word, so I took a few seconds to give serious thought to the matter.

Finally I said, "I suppose that in many ways I do. I'm sure it'd be virtually impossible for me to disobey any order you gave me. I hadn't really thought about it up until you asked, but I would have to agree that I am your total slave. It would probably sound trite for me to say, 'Your wish is my command', but that's exactly the way I feel. What do you think?"

As I had, she paused for quite awhile to think about our situation. At last she said softly, "I hadn't really thought about it either, but now that I have, I guess it's really true. I know in my heart that you'll do whatever I tell you, even if you know it's going to cause you a great deal of pain. So, I guess that's probably a pretty accurate description of what's going on with us."

She obviously wasn't through with the subject at that point, and continued, "I'm sure you've wondered about my relationship with Melissa, although you've seemed to be very accepting of it from the first time you saw the two of us having sex." I nodded to indicate my agreement with her statement, and she went on, "I truly love her, and I know deep in my heart that she loves me. In fact, she's said more than once, and I'm not entirely sure as a joke, that when we finally get rid of you and Tom, I can sell this house and move in with her so we'll have lots more opportunity to eat each other. I have to admit that sometimes the idea of doing that is appealing."

She continued, "Melissa and Tom openly acknowledge that he is her total slave. Any outsider seeing them together would probably not realize it, but it's true. She says that after he loses his appeal to her, in sexual terms, she'll simply get rid of him. I'm not all that sure that she means divorce him, either. The way she describes the tortures she has in mind for him, I actually believe that she intends to kill him someday. And I'm not all that sure that he'll object when the time comes. I guess that's why I've continued to ask you if you really and truly want to follow this path we're on. If we do, then someday I could start feeling the same way about you as she does him."

She stopped talking then, and looked directly at my face, waiting for me to answer her unspoken question. I was simply dumbfounded at what she had said about Melissa's plans for her husband, but realized that my own very erotic dreams all ended with the same thing happening to me. Could it be that I craved that sort of ending, especially if it were at the hands of this woman whom I loved and adored above any other thing on this planet?

I begin to reply, haltingly at first, "I think I knew from the first moment how much you and Melissa love one another. I'm not in the least jealous. In fact, I feel nothing but joy and excitement when I see you enjoying her body, and her yours. It can't diminish me in any way for you to have that relationship, and I hope it continues forever." She smiled contentedly at my statements, but said nothing, indicating that I still hadn't answered her question.

Again I spoke, saying, "I've found nothing but the most extreme arousal in the things you've done to me, and I couldn't possibly ask you to stop doing them now. If we did that, and tried to return to where our marriage was even a year ago, I simply couldn't bear it. Being in their garage, in your power, is just the most exciting thing possible. If that means that what you do to me continues to become more and more extreme, and more painful, then I guess it's worth it. We both know that both of the dreams I've had following the sessions have involved me being tortured in extremely painful ways, and in both cases the implied ending was the same. Maybe I really do want it to happen, or maybe it's just an attractive fantasy. In any case, my only answer has to be this: I am your total slave, and I want to continue as such. I crave any torture you care to give me, and if it leads to the ultimate conclusion, then so be it."

She smiled dreamily at me, and I knew that she was already far ahead of me, planning what was to come. At last she said, "I'd already told Melissa that'd be your answer. She was sure it would be also, because she's sure you're a real pain pig. I'm more than sure; I'm convinced of it."

There was that phrase again, and I decided that now would be a good time to ask if it meant what I thought it did. I asked, "You keep referring to me as a 'pain pig'. Does that mean that I can take lots of pain and still stay hard?"

She laughed softly before replying. "It means that, but also much more. A true pain pig lives for the pain, and the more agonizing it is to him, the better he likes it. When I was whipping your dick last night, it started to get soft after the first two strokes. Before the next stroke, I saw a complete change in you, and it started to get hard again. Can you tell me what happened then?"

I was thrown off guard by that seeming change in the conversation, but thought about the question and finally replied, "I can't describe it any better than by saying that something in my brain 'clicked', and what had been horrible pain before became erotic stimulation. It was almost as if I'd had an injection of some sort of drug that dulled the pain and increased my awareness. I can remember time seeming to slow down, and every detail seemed to stand out."

Jen said, "That's a pretty accurate description of what actually happened. Melissa says that when a man is subjected to extreme pain, his brain manufactures drugs called endorphins, and places them in the bloodstream. It has just exactly the effect you described." I nodded my understanding, glad to have an explanation for what had puzzled me up to that time. She continued, "A pain pig's brain is able to manufacture amounts of the endorphins that are much greater than anything a 'normal' person could do. He really and truly does feel less pain than someone else would, and if his personality is such that he craves pain, then he does everything he can to increase what he's getting."

"Melissa told me that her first contact with such a thing happened in the emergency room, as do most of her interesting experiences. Apparently a man had been brought in by his wife, and the preliminary examination showed that the head of his cock had been literally cooked until it died. Their story was that he'd been walking around the house drunk, in the nude, and had stumbled and fallen against a portable electric heater that was setting on the floor."

"Everyone there knew the story was false, since there were other marks on his cock that couldn't have been caused by a heater. Also, a blood test showed no trace of alcohol in his body, so he couldn't have been drunk One other thing that she observed could mean only one thing in her opinion. There were red marks around his ankles and wrists, indicating to her that he had been bound in some fashion, and had tried to free himself by jerking on the ropes. All in all, Melissa knew that she'd found another story for her diary."

"There was no way to save the man's cock head, so it had to be surgically removed and the tip repaired as much as possible. Melissa said she walked by the surgical waiting room after her shift was over and saw the wife sitting there, so she decided to 'strike while the iron was hot', to coin a phrase. She began talking about bland topics at first, pretending to be just another nurse who wanted to offer comfort. After several minutes of easy conversation, she finally mentioned that it was odd that the man could have been drunk, since no alcohol had been detected in his blood. The way the wife flushed dark red, then fumbled with a new way the injury could have happened, convinced Melissa that she was on the right track."

"In order to gain the woman's confidence, she told her that she was here as a friend, and not as any sort of authority figure. Finally she put herself at risk by saying, 'My husband and I also like to experiment with different things, and some of them have proved to be quite painful for him. I'm really curious to know about what you did to him, so maybe I could do the same thing someday."

"The woman finally realized that Melissa was a co-conspirator, as it were, and decided to confide in her. She told Melissa that she had indeed been doing painful things to her husband, just as Melissa had guessed, and than the last thing had gone beyond the point of no return. When pressed for the gory details, she told Melissa that she didn't feel comfortable talking about such things in that setting. She said that if Melissa would come to her house, she'd be more open about it, so they agreed to meet when Melissa had her next day off."

"Melissa went to the woman's home on the appointed day, and they had a pleasant conversation discussing various things to do to a man that would prove exciting to his wife. The man had a fully-equipped workshop in the basement, and he spent lots of time making 'toys' that his wife could use on him. Melissa said she got lots of new ideas there, and made notes and drawings of some of the stuff."

"When they finally got to the part that involved the injury to the man's cock head, in which it had been cooked and then had to be removed, the woman took Melissa to the kitchen to show her exactly what had happened."

"She said that the night she'd cooked his dickie, she'd been in the depths of PMS, and was very cranky. He kept pestering her for sex play, and finally she lost her temper and said something about being happy to oblige. She ordered him to strip, and as soon as he had, made him stand at the end of the kitchen table. She tied his ankles to the table legs to hold his crotch spread, and then pushed him backwards over the tabletop. After his wrists were secured to hold him in that position, she opened one of the kitchen cabinet drawers and took out some of the toys the man had made in the past."

"Melissa said that when the woman reached that part of the story, she opened a drawer and took out six nasty-looking needles. They were long sewing needles, with wooden handles. The exposed shaft of the needle was at least four inches long, and the handle about the same. The woman said that her husband had made the handles by drilling small holes in pieces of wooden dowels, then forcing the eye of the needle into the hole."

"As soon as the man was tied in place, bent backwards over the table, and with his penis sticking straight up and bobbing with his excitement, the woman walked to her kitchen range and turned one of the elements to its highest setting. She then arranged the six needles around the edges of the element, with the tips resting on it. She told Melissa that by that time she was getting pretty turned-on herself just by thinking about what she was going to do to her husband, and so she got undressed too."

"She knew that when she started on him, he'd probably start screaming in pain, and she didn't want to scare the neighbors. To keep him quiet, she wadded up her panties and stuffed them in his mouth, then used a piece of string to hold them in place. She said that he had lost his hard-on every now and then when she'd done something particularly painful to him in the past, and she didn't want that to happen this time. To prevent that happening again, she wrapped a shoelace very tightly around the base of his cock, and then tied it off."

"She then checked the needles, saw they were glowing red, and decided it was time to give the son-of-a-bitch exactly what he'd asked for. She picked up one of the needles and carried it to the table. She spent lots of time holding it in front of his face, telling him that she was tired of his constant nagging her for sex, and that she was going to take care of his 'tiny little wee-wee' once and for all. He was scared, but also wanted what was soon to come. His hips were bucking as much as possible, given his position, and his cock was waving around like a flagpole in a high wind."

"She pressed the tip of the first needle against the side of his cock head, and was immediately rewarded by his muffled scream. Apparently that aroused her more than she'd ever thought possible, and she grabbed ahold of his shaft with one hand and pushed the needle completely through the head with the other. That made him react so violently that she was sure he would break the ropes binding his wrists and ankles, but they held."

"She got a second needle from the range, and with no preliminaries this time, plunged it completely through the head of his cock. The woman said she became so involved with what she was doing that she didn't look at her husband's face until the third red-hot needle had been buried deep in his dick head. When she did look at him, she saw that he had passed out, so she began slapping his face to revive him. He apparently came to with a scream of pain, and then it was obvious that the pain killers from his brain kicked in, because he began to once again thrust his hips back and forth.

"That was all the motivation she needed to quickly thrust the remaining three needles completely through the head of his little dingus. By the time she had finished, the kitchen was full of the odor of cooking meat, and she said that turned her on even more. She climbed on the table, removed his gag, and then sat on his face, ordering him to eat her. It took just a few seconds for her to cum, and maybe a minute for her to come back to reality. By the time she looked at her husband's penis, she could tell that the head had been thoroughly cooked."

"Realizing that it was impossible for her to provide any sort of treatment, she hurried to untie him, get the needles out of him, and get him dressed and to the hospital. On the way there, they concocted the story about him falling against the space heater."

"Melissa said that the woman told her that her husband came home from the hospital two days after his surgery, and he had been given a prescription that would prevent erections. He was told that if he got a hard-on, the surgical repairs would be torn open. He was told to continue taking the drug for at least 30 days, so that his cock would have a chance to heal. His wife did everything she could to see that he swallowed the pills according to the prescription, but by the third week he simply insisted that he had to see what would happen if he got hard."

"Apparently the thing had healed sufficiently that it didn't split open when he had an erection, and so he started begging her to whip it to see if it still had any feeling left. She wouldn't do it for another week, but they did try some other stuff. She said when she finally did whip his little dickie again, it seemed to hurt him even more than usual. That extra pain seemed to excite him even more than usual, too. That's when she called him a 'pain pig', and Melissa has used that term ever since."

Even though my balls were aching from being overworked so much last night and that morning, and my cock was simply on fire from the same effects, plus the whipping it had received, I could feel the beginning of another erection. I looked at our kitchen table, imagining myself tied face up to it, and Jen thrusting red-hot needles in the head of my cock. The more I imagined that happening to me, the more my cock grew.

Jen could obviously see my discomfort, and immediately knew the reason for it. She said softly, "Stand up", and when I had done so, smirked at my stiffening, but oh-so-painful penis, at last saying, "You obviously found my story exciting, didn't you?" Since it was already obvious that was the truth, I didn't try to deny it, but merely nodded my agreement. She then said, "You're not the only one sweetie. Melissa told me that story a long time ago, and ever since, when we're in the kitchen together, I fantasize about you tied over the table, getting that same loving treatment from me."

She then opened the jar of salve that was on the tabletop and said, "Now come here and turn around. I want to put some of this salve on your whip marks. Melissa says that it'll make them fade quicker and heal faster, so you'll be ready sooner for the next session. Maybe I'll ask her to get out the special needles that she told Tom to make for her to use on him. I'm sure you'd like that." She laughed and then waited for me to stand in front of her, facing away.

When I had done so, she told me to bend over and grab my ankles so she could apply the salve to my aching butt. I hesitated to do so, not because of any sense of embarrassment, but because I thought that doing such a thing would seem disrespectful to her. When I didn't hurry to obey her, she slapped my ass with a lot of force, causing me to cry out as that further injury was added. She said angrily, "Did I, or did I not, tell you to bend over?! Now do it!"

I quickly assumed the position she had indicated, and soon felt the soothing lotion being applied. It was ironic that the same hands that had caused the fires to ignite in my ass were now lessening them, and I was struck once again by the apparent contradiction in our new relationship. My wife, whom I knew for certain, loved me, seemed to genuinely enjoy giving me a great deal of pain. I had no way of knowing if such a thing were an indication of a greater love than usual, or a way to sexually stimulate her. I decided that it didn't really matter, since my brain sincerely needed that pain, whatever its motivation.

As she was applying the salve, she said conversationally, "I've been trying to think of some way to spread your ass cheeks for the next whipping. I'll bet your butt is lots more tender in the crack, and probably your asshole most of all. If you can think of anything that'd help, please tell me."

As many times before, I was in awe of her ability to amaze me. Here she was, gently applying an ointment to soothe the wounds she'd caused hours before, and asking for advice on how to give me even more pain during the next session. My brain simply refused to deal with the conundrum, and instead shut down so my body could enjoy the moment.

That moment ended all too soon, and she told me to stand up so she could apply the lotion to my burning penis. I straightened up and turned to face her, my appreciation for her attentions evident in the erection now pointing directly her way. She pretended to ignore it, saying, "Let's try it with you standing at the end of the table, honey. I think maybe that would be easier. After all, your pee-pee is pretty small, and that would help me see it better."

I moved to stand where she had indicated, and she stood from her chair and walked around in front of me. She said softly, "Not like that, dear. Put your feet out by the table legs, and then lie back on the tabletop. I knew then that she was still recalling the story the Melissa had told her, and wanted to relive some parts of it. I did as told, and soon was lying on my back across the top of the table, with my feet on the floor. My now completely-hard cock was jutting into the air, and I could see the marks on it left by Jen's whip. At that moment, I was torn between wanting her to do more of the same, and wanting to do everything I could to protect the poor, hurt thing for further injury.

She solved my problem by putting more salve on her hands, then softly rubbing it into the shaft and head of my member. As she caressed me so tenderly, she was saying, "Some day you'll be just like this again, but your ankles will be tied to the table legs, and your wrists will be tied to the other end. Your little dickie will be standing up just like now, begging me to hurt it. I'll walk to the range to get one of the needles that's heating there, and bring it back for you to see. The needle will be glowing red-hot, and as I hold it close to your cock head, you'll feel the intense heat when it's still a foot away."

"I'll move it closer and closer to you, until the tip finally touches its target. You'll scream in pain as your precious little pee-pee feels the burning. I'll push it deeper into you then, and keep pushing until it comes through the other side. I'll hurry back to the stove for more, and soon there will be dozens of red-hot needles buried in the head and the shaft. I'll get more of them and push them through your balls, which will be as big as basketballs from the whipping I just gave them."

I longed for her to continue describing what she was going to do to me, but at that moment, she removed her hands and walked over to the sink to wash them. She said disinterestedly to me, "Don't you have anything better to do than lounge around naked. Go get dressed and get the lawn mowed. It looks awful."

I was completely dumbfounded by her abrupt mood change, but knew that I had given my pledge to obey her, and told myself to do so. The rest of the day was spent with me doing odd jobs around the house, while Jen was over at Melissa's house. I wasn't sure what they were doing, but my fantasies ran wild while I was working. As it turned out, part of them were actually true.