Gay noose stories

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There are no doubt some medical inaccuracies in here, as I am at best an amateur anatomist. I hope the Gentle Reader is willing to suspend a demand for strict accuracy in the interest of the story line. The following story is a purely fictional. Any relationship to any real person living or dead is coincidental. The narrative deals with the non-consensual torture of a human being, and is intended for mature readers who wish to view such material, and for whom it is legal to do so. The author in no way condones or promotes such acts in real life. Copyright c by POW.

For spam prevention, an animal name has been added to the author's e-mail address. Remove the animal name to get the actual address: POWauthor zebra at yahoo dot com. This story may be freely copied Gay noose stories distributed so long as it is copied in its entirety, unchanged, including the author credit information and disclaimer. The author welcomes feedback. At the one week point, Mike started to accept his confinement for what it would be: a permanent change in his lifestyle. In his old life, Mike had been a college student who just finished his final exams for the year.

I had met him on-line several weeks before, and he had agreed to come to my place after school let out for a weekend of fantasy fulfillment before he went home to his summer job. As promised, I Gay noose stories Mike the sexually charged, bondage-filled fantasy weekend he dreamed of.

Actually, I enjoyed it, too. And I only had to lie about one small detail - the fact that it was going to last a lot longer than one weekend. Either Mike was not too bright or I'm a better actor than I ever gave myself credit for. Perhaps his gullibility stemmed from the fact that he was still adjusting to being gay. Or maybe he was just a trusting soul. Whatever the reason, it worked out well for me. He was all too eager to accept my "privacy precautions" for his visit - he told no one where he was going, he let me buy him the plane ticket, he let me pick him up at the airport On the first day of his new life, I informed Mike of the purpose I had in mind for him, although I left certain key details for a later talk.

I told him basically that I would train him to be the perfect bondage victim, and that if he did well at his training, I would bring him out to show him off in a public forum. He protested a bit, at first, but I ignored his whining. Most of his days that first week were spent walking on a treadmill.

foxy lady Sylvia

Mike had quite a good body, and I didn't want him to lose that physique - at least not through atrophy. So I set up a treadmill with walls placed on three sides. It was actually more like a very small room with a moving floor, open to the back. The walls were smooth, so there was nothing for him to grab on to, but just in case, his hands were cuffed behind him. He had a lock around the base of his balls, attached to a chain that was hooked to the wall in front of him.

The treadmill was driven by a motor, and all Mike had to do was walk. If he didn't, he got a painful tug. I usually ran the motor at a reasonable speed, making him walk briskly, but nothing Gay noose stories strenuous. For week one I had him doing 8 hours each day while I was off at work.

gorgeous female Hallie

No use having him lounge around all day. Evenings were more of what he experienced over the weekend. Some bondage, either on a table or a St. Andrew's Cross, or perhaps just suspended from the ceiling. Some whipping, some ball-beating, some anal probes It was all stuff he enjoyed, and in fact he had three orgasms in the week after hearing the news that he was never going home.

Nights he spent locked in his small cage, arms and legs bound in a different uncomfortable position each night, making it difficult for him to get much sleep. I liked the sleeplessness because it kept him a bit disoriented, which helped cut down on resistance.

Sometimes I would tie his hands to his feet; other times I would fasten a rope down his back from neck to balls, forcing him to bend backwards all night. Or I would lock a hand or a foot to the cage's roof, letting it go numb from lack of circulation. My favorite, which I didn't do often, was to leave him unchained in the cage and set a timer to periodically deliver a jolt of electricity through the bars. At all times he wore a cylindrical ball cuff, weighing about Gay noose stories pound. In addition to keeping him from moving around too quickly, it had a nice psychological side benefit, telling him unequivocally that I was the owner of his manhood, indeed his very self.

By the one week mark, it seemed he was beginning to get used to the idea that he'd be staying a while, and possibly even beginning to like it. The next day, though, was Saturday, and it would be time to let Mike know what his real purpose here was. Mike was, not surprisingly, awake when I came downstairs. I released his Gay noose stories and legs, cuffing his hands behind him again, then dragged him out of his cage and over to the center of the room, chaining his feet to the floor.

I got a steel cable from one of the cabinets and proceeded to lock it snugly around his neck. The cable was short, ending in a small loop only a foot or so away from his neck. It was tight enough to hold against his skin, but not so tight as to hurt him. I fastened the neck cable to a second cable hanging from a winch in the ceiling. Mike suddenly realized what was going on and began to struggle and shout. The struggles I ignored - he was helpless, - but loud noises have always bothered me, especially the mosquito-like whine Mike made when he was unhappy.

I made a mental note to correct the problem sometime soon. I bent down and unfastened his foot chains, leaving him free to kick - makes for a better show - then, with no fanfare, I went over to the control box and slowly lifted the helplessly struggling man into the air by the steel cable around his neck.

I'm always fascinated by the sight of a powerful male body struggling through the various stages of hanging. His face turned red, then purple. His legs kicked uselessly in the air, only six short inches from the safety of the ground. His arms and hands fought against their restraints, and he pivoted in random directions. The cable dug cruelly into his neck, but did not tighten, unlike rope.

naughty sister Penelope

His eyes squeezed nearly shut from the pressure of blood pooling in his head. Breath came in agonized gasps from his mouth - mostly exhalations. About thirty seconds in, that classic reaction kicked in - his cock started swelling. By this time, his purple tongue was sticking out from between his swollen lips, and his struggles had reached the peak of their frenzy. I watched, stroking myself, until he reached the minute mark.

By then his kicks were considerably subdued, almost feeble, and it was obvious he was nearing the end of his endurance. The tiny pinpricks of his glazed eyes showed nothing but despair.

slut asian Clarissa

Another thirty seconds, and I let him down. He lacked the strength to support his own weight, so I had to let the cable all the way out, until he was prone on the floor. He had passed out, but he came to after a few minutes.

cutie sister Aliza

He started to protest immediately, as I thought he might, so I quickly rammed a large black cock-shaped rubber gag into his mouth and fastened it behind his head. You are not to make a sound. There is nothing Gay noose stories need to say. I would threaten you with pain to make you comply, but that would be pointless, since you are going to experience considerable pain anyway.

I will permit you to scream, when you feel you must, but if you utter another word, I will take action to make sure it never happens again. Nod if this is clear to you. His eyes were wide now, and I was fairly certain I could remove the gag and not hear a peep. I left it in anyway. Mike, today I tested your endurance for hanging. You did fairly poorly, but that was to be expected. You lasted ninety seconds before I had to let you down. Ninety seconds is a ridiculously short time. My eventual goal is to hang you for eight hours at a time. His eyes showed his shock. Apparently I was wrong about his commitment to silence, because he started to mutter something behind the gag.

I slapped him hard across the cheek, and he shut up. I continued. For the next several months, then, I will be your coach. Your training will have two aspects: we will work on reducing your body weight, and on increasing the endurance of your neck muscles. Nod if this is clear. Your current weight is lbs.

That is far too heavy. As of today, you will go on Gay noose stories reduced-calorie diet. You will Gay noose stories on the treadmill, as you have been, for eight hours each day. Each Saturday I will hang you again, as I did today, and measure your endurance. Frankly, I don't expect much in the way of improvement over the first several weeks, but it's worth recording the information, anyway. I led him over to the treadmill and hooked him up for another session. This time I set the motor to vary its speed, so that he would have twenty minutes of jogging followed by forty more at a slower pace.

I watched from behand for a while as his locked balls bounced underneath his cuffed hands. The stub of cable hung from his reddened neck, flopping back and forth. He started to breathe heavily through his nose, thanks to the thick gag blocking his mouth.

Sweat pooled on his shoulders and back. I gave him a couple slaps on the ass and headed upstairs. When his eight-hour stint was up, I returned to let him loose and feed him his meal. I briefly reminded him of my desire for his silence, then removed the gag. I could tell his mouth was sore, so I waited a few minutes before giving him his meal. Then I placed the plate of food on the floor and stepped back. Mike looked down at the plate, clearly hungry, clearly wanting to ask how he was to eat with his hands bound, and then, just as clearly, realizing the answer to the question that he knew to leave unspoken.

Setting the pattern for all future meals, he slowly got down on his knees and ate, licking the plate clean when he was finished. I had carefully counted out each calorie, and I knew he would be desperate for more. If we're going to reduce your body weight, you're going to have to eat less and exercise. Now get up and come over here. I led him over to the bondage table and had him lie down on it. The table was well-deed for its purpose - it had dozens of tie-down points and adjustable straps, and was even padded just a bit for the victim's comfort.

I strapped him in securely, holding him down with three straps on each arm and leg, three more across his stomach and chest, and cross straps over his shoulders. I took the loose end of the cable around his neck and attached it to the winch at the top of the table, over Mike's head. The winch had a device attached to measure the tension in the cable, so I could know exactly how much simulated weight Mike was feeling.

I wound him up a bit.

Gay noose stories

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