Necktie Party, Chapter 8

Chapter 8

As our next session drew nearer with each passing hour, Jen missed no chance to tell me how sore my "little nutties" were going to be in just a short time. She exaggerated the effects such a whipping had on Tom the first time, saying that I'd surely have to call in sick, since I'd be unable to even get out of bed, let alone walk, or sit at a desk.

As my fear of the session increased, so did my anticipation of it. I knew that Tom was by now accustomed to such a treatment, if such a thing is possible, and he would probably come through it in better shape than I. Even given that advantage, I was determined that he would not prove to be the better man. Surely Jen's pride in me, and her expectations of my performance, would allow me to get through the session still hard, and therefore it would be Tom on his knees, and not me. If I had believed in any sort of higher power, plenty of prayers would have been uttered then.

On the Wednesday night before the session, we were once again in bed, with the nightstand lamp still on. Jen was idly playing with my penis, preparatory to mounting it to get her pussy ready for my 'midnight snack', as she'd come to call it. She asked, "Do you want me to ask Melissa to trade whips for your first ball whipping? You know by now that my new whip is still pretty stiff, and it'll hurt lots worse than hers. What do you think?"

I had also been thinking of that very subject, but was unsure how to bring it up, since I didn't want to appear afraid of what she was going to do to me. To gain a little more time, I said, "I don't know enough about it to say for sure. What would you rather do?"

She grinned at me, then said, "Sweetie, I'd rather use a blacksnake whip on them, and tear them off you. You'd better not leave it up to me, or you'll be sorry." She grinned again, and to emphasize her point squeezed my sac forcefully and jerked on it. Rather than being shocked by her sentiment, I was somehow more aroused than ever by it. I simply can't explain why the thought of my balls being whipped until they were torn off would be exciting to me, but it was.

She sensed my increased arousal and grinned again. After giving my nuts a couple more jerks, she said, "That reminds me of something Melissa said once about how sailors were whipped on sailing ships many years ago. Apparently something called a 'cat-o'-nine-tails' was used then, but it was usually called a 'cat' for short. Melissa said it was quite a bit larger than the little whips we've been using, and the leather thongs were thicker. She said that between uses, the whip was soaked in salt brine to stiffen the thongs, and also to add a little something extra to the whipping. The stiffer thongs would cut the sailors skin, and I'm sure you can imagine the effect the salt added when it got in the cuts."

I had no problem imagining such a thing, and in no time at all my overactive imagination was running wild. I was hanging from the yardarm of a ship, with my legs tied so widely spread they were actually straight out to the sides of my body. Jen was standing in front of me with a monstrous whip, having just then taken it from a barrel of salt brine. She whipped my body repeatedly, finally concentrating on my genitals. My cock and balls had swollen to such an amount that the skin had split, and the salt from the thongs was causing me untold agony.

Before I got any deeper into the fantasy, she again squeezed my balls to get my attention. She pretended to be angry, saying, "For Christ's sake! Can't I tell even the simplest story without you running off to some teenage fantasy? Do you want to hear the rest of my story or not?" She laughed then, and I knew that she was not truly angry. I begged her to continue, sure that soon I'd have even more fuel for my fantasies.

"Melissa said that there was a special type of punishment called 'kissing the gunner's daughter'. Apparently when that was done, the naked sailor was bent face down over the barrel of a cannon and tied in place. His back and ass would then be whipped until the required number of strokes had been given. She said that any sailor caught in homosexual activities received that sort of punishment, but he would be tied over the barrel facing up. The stress in the man's crotch caused by the unnatural position always gave him an involuntary erection after he'd been tied like that for about half an hour. It was then that the whipping would be administered, and I'm sure you know what the primary target was."

Again my imagination ran wild, as Jen had known it would, and I visualized myself tied face up over the cannon barrel, my raging erection waving in the air like some obscene flagpole. As I gazed in horror, Jen brought the brine-soaked cat crashing down.

She again smiled at me, saying, "I'm sure that's as exciting to you as it is to me. I've thought several times about tying you across something like that, and then whipping your cock and balls until they're nothing but bloody shreds."

After laughing at the reaction she saw on my face, she said, "Maybe I'll run over to Melissa's after awhile and start my whip soaking in some salt water. What do you think, sweetie? It'd probably feel lots better to you that way. I doubt you'll be able to feel normal whip strokes, so maybe you need something extra."

I had to clear my throat several times before I could speak, but finally was able to say, "I want you to do whatever you want to me. If you leave my cock still attached to my body, I'll keep it hard for you. I want you to be excited, because the hotter you get, the hotter I get."

She replied, "Thanks sweetie. That's exactly the way I feel too, so I'll just do whatever turns me on the most." She paused then asked, "Now, are you about ready for your midnight snack? Just thinking of doing stuff like that to you has me ready to mount up."

She looked questioningly at me, then without waiting for an answer swung her leg over me and guided my cock into her pussy in one practiced movement. Soon I was filling her cunt with my hot cream, and was already impatient for her to begin feeding it to me.

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Nothing of note happened between then and the third session the following Saturday. There is one anecdote that I want to relate here though, because it illustrates so well how very different were our public and our private lives.

As we left the house to walk to our appointment in Melissa's garage, the couple who live in the house right next to us were also walking away from their front door. As we turned right, they turned left, and we stopped to exchange pleasantries as we met. They mentioned they were on their way to play bridge with a couple who lived in the next block, and Jen said we were going to "Tom and Melissa's" (neither of us ever placed his name first in private conversations), but we weren't sure what they had planned for us to do.

By the time Melissa opened her front door, we were looking at one another and laughing, unable to contain our mirth. We had just spent a couple of minutes greeting our neighbors, and they had told us about what they had planned for the evening's entertainment. Jen and I knew that if we told them about our upcoming "entertainment", they would have been shocked beyond belief, and would probably have run screaming for the nearest telephone and immediately called the police. Such a greater difference in lifestyles was almost impossible to imagine.

After our usual hour or so of snacks and small talk, Melissa turned to me as before. As soon as she had everyone's attention, she said as she had the last time, "David, Jen tells me you've had another dream that we just have to hear about. Why don't you tell it to us right now, before Tom and I die of curiosity?"

I had known this moment would come, and had made up my mind to begin the story with no hesitation, as opposed to my reluctance the last time. My narration began, as did the dream itself, with the four of us walking through a strange woods, and finally arriving at our campsite for the night. I concentrated on telling every last detail of the dream, sure that it would arouse the others as much as it had me, and was soon rewarded with their rapt gazes as each entered my fantasy.

As had happened when I had related the first tale, Melissa's attention was totally on me, but her eyes were glazed, when I reached the part about her opening Tom's sac and removing the skin to allow his balls to hang free. I knew from what Jen had told me that she was becoming more and more fixated on castrating her husband, and my story was helping her to live those yearnings.

Again, as before, both Tom and I had full erections before I had come to the end of the dream. Again Jen made a point of looking at the bulge in his trousers, but this time it brought different emotions to me. Knowing now that she had been allowing him to stick his cock in her precious body, and then bringing his cum home for me to eat, gave a whole new dimension to my understanding of what she was thinking then.

Finally I reached the end of the dream, with Tom and I hanging there after our cocks had been severely beaten to "tenderize" them, and my own body bucking with the intensity of my orgasm. Again, the other three seemed to be in their own worlds, gazing at me with half-seeing eyes, their lips parted, and their breathing ragged. I expected Melissa to again order her husband to get undressed, followed by Jen's order for me to do the same, so that we could get started on the evening's "entertainment".

Instead of doing so, she seemed to come slowly back to reality. She turned to Jen, and said softly, "I see what you mean, sweetheart. Maybe you two should join us on our vacation." I saw my wife nod in agreement, but was then distracted when Melissa's order to "strip now", was directed at both Tom and I. That was the last I thought of the reference to their vacation until Jen broached the subject later. Soon there were two piles of clothes laying on the floor, and I was again ordered to lead the way to the garage.

As soon as we were in our proper positions, Tom and I were again bound to spreader bars, with our hands tied behind our backs and lifted up by the neck ropes. As soon as the nooses were in place, Jen walked to the workbench and came back carrying the two whips. I watched in rapt attention as she stood quietly in front of me, glancing at the old and new whips in her hands. I was sure she was trying to decide which to use on me, and was instantly struck by two very different emotions when she handed Melissa's whip to her, and kept the new whip for herself.

I was immediately filled with fear for the punishment my body was about to receive from the new leather thongs, and was unsure if I'd be able to get through it with my erection still intact. On the other hand, I was filled with pride that Jen was so sure of me that she would choose to use the new whip for my first ball whipping. Once again, I steeled myself for the agonizing pain that was sure to come, and hoped that my brain would release the endorphins in time to prevent my humiliation.

That the pain of a whipping was reduced by experience was soon demonstrated as Jen delivered the initial ten strokes to my backside. I cannot deny that the pain was very sharp, and that it ignited the fires in my crotch. At the same time, I knew that the pain was definitely less than it had been two weeks ago. That gave me hope that my cock would be able to stay hard when it was whipped, even if my brain didn't help.

By the time Jen lashed my cock with the first stroke, the burning sensation from the ass whipping had my member engorged to its utmost dimension. At the fourth touch of the lash, I could feel a slight shrinking, but was able to overcome it by thinking about my dream, and fantasizing that as soon as my wife had "tenderized" my penis, she would remove it for cooking and eating.

All too soon, the cock whipping was at an end. I knew the time had come for my ultimate test, and could only hope and pray that the pain and burning I was already feeling would help mask what my balls were soon to receive. To steel my resolve, I looked at my beautiful wife standing there naked, her nipples hard and distended, her mouth opened slightly as she sought to even her breathing to recover from her exertions. Her beauty was almost unbearable to me then, and once again I was overcome with the overpowering need, the craving, to lose myself in her body and to give her the ultimate pleasure or die trying.

Soon the women had recovered, and they turned to look at one another. At an unspoken signal, they turned again to their men. I saw Jen mouth the words, "I love you. Be strong for me.", and then her hand brought the whip whistling up from the floor.

There is simply no way for me to describe what I felt then. If any of my readers have ever been subjected to testicular whipping, then they already know the horrible, sick pain that shot through my body. Those of you who have yet to experience this particular type of "fun" will never understand what agonies suffused my being. Suffice it to say that my legs virtually collapsed, and my heart stopped. I was unable to draw in even the small amount of air the noose allowed me, and I was ready to welcome the end right then and there. I knew in the depths of my soul there was no way I could possibly survive nine more strokes.

Although it had abandoned me before, my brain chose that moment to rescue me. When the drug hit my bloodstream, its effect was instantaneous. Again the lights became almost unbearably bright, and things seemed to be happening incredibly slowly. I saw the lovely Melissa standing with her back to me, moving her whip in very slow motion toward her husband's balls. After what seemed like an eternity, the lashes impacted his sac, and I could actually see the grooves pressed in the skin by them. I heard his sharp intake of breath, followed by his groan.

It occurred to me to wonder why Jen had stopped whipping me, as her friend was so lovingly doing to her husband. My jealousy knew no bounds then, and I longed to be allowed to feel the erotic stimulation that would come from such treatment. I craned my neck as much as possible to look down at my own crotch, and was surprised to see the thongs just then falling to the floor. Obviously my incredibly beautiful and sexy wife had just completed a stroke, but I simply had not felt it at all. My penis was thrusting toward her as much as possible, begging to feel the pain, but she would do nothing other than swing the whip in slow motion, so that it touched me with the caress of a feather. If I could have, I would have cried out my frustration, pleading with her to please, please whip me harder.

My next conscious thought is of Melissa standing beside Jen, their arms around one another, and looking directly at my crotch. I heard her say, "For God's sake! Is there absolutely no way to get rid of his stiffie? Are you sure you were really whipping him, or just pretending?"

Jen laughed, then said in a husky voice, "I whipped his balls as hard as I possibly could. There's no way he could still be hard after that. If you'd used this whip on Tom, his little dingus would be too small to see by now." She looked up at my face then, and the expression she had was one of absolute and overweening pride. I thought my heart would burst then.

As if a faucet had been slowly opened, the pain returned. First I felt the sensation of an intense burning in my crotch, and then my balls felt as if they were on fire. I struggled to once again look down, sure that Jen was holding a torch there to cook the meat as she had in my dream. Even though she was still standing almost 3' in front of me, I simply could not believe she was not somehow baking my tender balls.

The pain and burning finally reached its maximum level, and then tapered off somewhat. I knew that my cock was still erect, even thought I could no longer force my neck to stretch enough to look at the thing. My only wish now was to be pronounced the winner of the "contest", and for Tom to be brought to me to perform as he had last time. I would much rather that Jen, or even Melissa, would masturbate me, but I knew they had other things in mind.

My hopes were raised when the other man was lowered and untied, and I readied myself for the feel of his mouth and tongue on my cock. To my surprise, though, I was also released.

The women directed us to lie on the floor beside one another, with my head beside his crotch, and his beside mine. That confirmed my worst fears, as I expected that we would soon be ordered to perform mutual oral sex. I was sure there was no way I could keep from gagging as his penis entered my mouth, and even more so as it began to spurt his seed. Jen would surely be ashamed of me if that happened, and I struggled to get my emotions under control so that I could accept what I was so dreading.

Instead of giving the expected order, Jen began to lower her body over Tom's enormous cock, and Melissa over my much smaller one. I welcomed the feeling of the woman's steaming hot pussy, but had eyes only for what was happening to my wife.

As she guided my rival's member into her body, Jen looked down at me and said, "Don't worry honey, I'll be ready for you in a few seconds. I knew then that my fate was sealed, and I would after all have to eat the other man's cum. Surely the fact that I had licked it from my wife's pussy for two years now would overcome the revulsion I felt.

Melissa had already settled to the maximum amount on my cock. She said to Jen, "I see what you mean, honey. I might as well be trying to fuck myself with my finger. I knew he was small, but this is ridiculous. It's no wonder you want to use Tom so often. I think I'd simply go crazy if I had to put up with this little thing night after night."

Jen winked at her, saying, "I tried to warn you. I guess he just never did grow up like Tom did. Sometimes I think I'll just cut it off and have it for a snack, but it's so damned small that it wouldn't be worth the trouble." The women laughed together at that, and then begin to concentrate on enjoying their fucking as much as possible. I knew that Jen was excited from what she had done to me just minutes before, and was likely to have an orgasm while riding the other man's cock. I didn't want that to happen, but instead wanted her to wait until she was sitting on my mouth, with me sucking his cum from her pussy.

Melissa may have been used to a much bigger penis than mine, but she certainly knew how to make her pussy feel good to me. The excitement from being whipped by my wife, plus that from being fucked for the first time by another beautiful woman, soon had my hips bucking as my body responded to the mix of pain and pleasure. I knew that Tom was also close to cumming, and secretly hoped that he'd hurry up so that Jen would get off him. Of course, since that meant that she would then feed his deposit to me, I was also reluctant for him to do it.

I could no longer delay my orgasm, and as it built, the cum rising through the shaft of my recently-tortured cock burnt like hot lava. With a final thrust against Melissa's crotch, I began spurting my seed deep within her body. I think that was one of the most painful orgasms I've ever had, and I thought that surely my balls had exploded. All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and die, but my muscles seemed to be frozen. Even my throat was locked closed, and I found it extremely difficult to breathe.

It wasn't until Melissa lifted off me and settled onto Tom's face that I was able to think of anything other than the intense pain pervading my body. I heard her say, "Tom, I order you to cum. Do it now!" As if a switch had been closed, his hips began to buck wildly, driving his huge member deep into my wife's body. I heard her gasp with pleasure, and prayed that she would be able to delay her orgasm just a few moments more.

After what seemed like an eternity, his movements stopped. The room became quiet enough that I could actually hear him nursing at his wife's pussy, and then swallowing the semen that I had deposited there so shortly before. Al;most before I could react, Jen lifted herself from his member. I could see the way his cum glistened on the shaft of the thing, and how strings of it dripped from her opening to his cock head. Again I was overcome with dread, knowing that my wife was expecting me to not only lick that substance from her pussy, but to actually suck it out of her and swallow it.

With no wasted motion, she moved sideways and repositioned herself over my head, facing my crotch. Before she settled in place, I saw the way her pussy was gaping open, and knew that it had been stretched in a manner impossible for me to do. Because of the stretching, the cum he'd shot into her was now beginning to drip in large strings toward my face. I seemed to be frozen in place, able to move only when Jen looked down between her legs and said, "Open your God-damned mouth! I didn't go to the trouble to get this for you only to have you waste it. Do it now!"

A large teardrop-shaped gobbet of Tom's semen was slowly closing the distance between Jen's gaping pussy and my lips. Again she implored, "David, please! I need to see you eat it." I could hear the need in her voice, and knew she was desperate to lower her crotch to my mouth, then have her long-awaited orgasm.

Fighting against the part of my brain that was screaming for me to keep my mouth tightly closed, I slowly forced open my lips, then extended my tongue toward the glistening gobbet that was now barely one inch away. I closed my eyes so that I wouldn't have to look at the revolting stuff that was seemingly running in rivers from my wife's cunt, and then pushed my tongue forward another fraction of an inch.

I felt, and then tasted, Tom's cum on my tongue. I knew Jen was still watching my actions between her legs, and with all the discipline I could muster, withdrew my tongue and swallowed. My reward was her explosive, "Yes!", and then the feel of her crotch settling in its rightful place. As the gobbet of cum slid down my throat, I had to concentrate harder than ever to prevent my stomach from sending it right back up. I wanted nothing more than to vomit, gag, and spit. Anything to get that foul stuff out of my body.

As Jen had seated herself on my face, the delicious scent of her pussy became overwhelming. My emotions told me that this was nothing more than the usual and accustomed thing, and that I had serviced her in this manner for years. The scent, the feel, and finally even the taste became nothing more than the wonderful part of my wife that I so longed to pleasure. My mouth opened again, and my tongue began to explore her folds and crevices. Her very wet pussy was steaming hot, which meant nothing more than that she was very aroused. Again, I marveled at how everything about this precious part of her was no different from ever before.

Again and again I sent my tongue exploring, and again and again it brought home its delicious cargo of my wife's juices. It seemed that I couldn't swallow fast enough to allow me to fully enjoy this feast she had consented to give me. Her moans of pleasure became the sole focus of my being, and when she reached back and spread her cheeks, allowing my nose to find another source of delicious aroma, I was in heaven. I wanted nothing more than to crawl inside her, to become a part of her body, to become one with her.

I was frantic to find more of her delicious juices. It seemed as though my appetite for them was boundless, but there were no more within reach of my eager tongue. Suddenly she cried out, "Now!", and I could feel her pussy spasming. She began to reward me with more juice than I could handle, and I frantically swallowed to make room for more. I was sure I could exist forever on this banquet she was providing me, and I would not waste even the smallest drop of her nectar.

All too soon she became quiet, then leaned forward to support herself on her hands. I came back to reality, and soon wished I had not. The pain in my ass, my cock, and most of all my abused balls chose that moment to assert itself, and to make me pay the high price for my lust. My mouth was still carrying Jen's weight, and that was the only thing that kept me from crying out as loudly as I could.

There is simply no way for me to describe what I was feeling then. As I've written before, those of you who have been whipped at waist level already know the agonizing spasms that were wracking my body. The others would have no appreciation of any words I could write here, so I will not even attempt to offer further descriptions. Suffice it to say that I was paralyzed with the horrible pain, and was sure that my injuries were permanent. There was no lust left to mask what had been done to me, and I was fearful that powerful emotion might never return.

Jen at last lifted herself off my face, and I gulped in air as fast as my lungs would allow. My head had turned to the right as she left me, and I was looking directly at Tom's crotch. I saw his now-limp cock laying across his thigh, still glistening with the remnants of the semen he'd so recently shot into my wife's pussy. His balls were already swollen from their recent whipping, and I knew they were the source of the vile stuff that was now resting like a stone in my belly. I was overcome with inner rage, and if I had been able to move, would have done everything in my power to destroy his cock and balls, to rip the loathsome things from their home.

That emotion passed with the next wave of agonizing pain that swept through my body. Jen must have seen the horrible pain being mirrored on my face, for she immediately sat beside me and pulled my head into her lap. Her soft caresses and loving words were my rock then, and were the total focus of my being. I had no other reason for existing than to lie here with my loving wife soothing me, and it is all I ever wanted, or so it seemed at the time.

With the half of my brain that wasn't totally overcome by the pain, I heard Jen ask her friend, "Do you think he'll be okay? I don't remember Tom ever looking like this."

I heard Melissa laugh softly then, and reply, "He's fine, sweetheart. The reason you didn't see Tom like that is you weren't there the first couple of time I whipped his balls. He completely passed out from the pain, and then seemed to be totally paralyzed for a couple of hours afterward. I think he cried, and I mean real tears, for at least a full day. No, David's fine. You don't need to worry about him."

I was reassured immensely by her words, since I knew they were based on her experience with her own husband, as well as her medical training. The relief I felt at knowing I wasn't permanently injured was quickly supplanted by a feeling of immense pride. Despite all my fears, I actually had proved myself to be the better man, and even Tom's wife had to admit it.

Jen then said to me, "Honey, I think we should go home now. I'm beat, and I'm sure they'd like to get to bed too. Do you think you're up to it?" The double meaning of her words brought laughter to the lips of both women, and Melissa quickly quipped, "Sweetheart, he won't be 'up' for anything for quite awhile. Maybe in three or four days he'll be able to get hard again, but don't expect anything before then."

Jen smiled at her, then said, "I'll bet you two orgasms that he'll be hard again in half that time." Again they laughed, and then Melissa said, "You're on. Of course, we'll give each other more than than without betting, but it makes it interesting."

My wife then lifted my upper body to a sitting position. I had expected my ass to rebel when it felt my weight, but I actually had very little perception of pain there. Apparently all my nerves were overloaded carrying messages about the damage that'd been done to my cock and balls, and there were none left to tell my brain about my butt. Thank goodness for small favors.

Before I had time to get comfortable, Jen insisted that I try to stand, and with her loving assistance I was able to do it. Melissa said in a low voice, "Amazing!", and I saw Jen beam with pride. Tom was still lying on the floor, looking sheepish. He obviously knew that he'd been bested again, and even though he'd so recently fucked my beautiful wife, and then had the satisfaction of knowing that I had been forced to eat his cum out of her pussy, he was still second-best when it came to enduring pain.

I had my first look at my sac then, and simply could not credit my eyes when they reported the thing was not much larger than normal. Surely my balls had to be at least twice their usual size in order to hold so much pain. Melissa saw the direction of my gaze, and must have known what I was thinking, for she commented, "Don't worry your pretty little head, David. By morning they'll be so big you won't be able to get them in your pants." That brought another round of laughter from the women, and a wry smile to my lips. I knew that the prediction would probably come to pass, and I was dreading it.

The walk to the living room was pure agony. With each step, I was sure my legs would simply refuse to cooperate, and I

would be dropped unceremoniously on the floor. We finally arrived at the pile of clothes that I had shed so willingly and enthusiastically hours before, and with Jen's help I was able to get dressed. My balls did fit in my underwear, but they certainly didn't like it. I was sure that tomorrow I'd be unable to wear such tight-fitting clothes, and wondered what I'd do when it came time to return to work on Monday. I certainly couldn't face a classroom full of teenagers while wearing only a bathrobe. Calling in sick sounded more and more likely to me.

The walk home was very difficult and slow. Jen placed one of my arms around her shoulders, and supported me all the way to our doorstep. As I made my pain-wracked way home, my single thought was hoping that we not again meet our neighbors. I didn't have any idea how we could explain that my condition was due to an evening of playing cards. As that idea flashed through my brain, I began to chuckle and then to laugh uncontrollably.

Jen seemed to be very concerned by my laughter, and said in a worried tone, "Honey, what's going on? Has the pain driven you out of your head?"

I finally was able to control myself long enough to tell her the source of my amusement, and as understanding dawned on her face, she began to laugh also. I'm sure anyone seeing us would have just assumed we were drunk, and let it go at that.