Chapter 5 – Chapter 5

The feeling of safety didn't last long.

I woke—briefly to a gloved hand over my face and that pungent smell at my nostrils again.

When I came to, I was hanging from a floating beam in the ceiling, fleece-lined wrist restraints extending my arms far apart on individual leads from the beam. I was dangling with my toes barely able to reach the bedroom carpet. My legs were held out wide by a stretcher extending from one ankle to the next. I couldn't see anything—I was blindfolded. I couldn't say anything—a ball gag was in place.

I could hear, though. Heavy breathing. And I could feel. He was running gloved hands all over my body, making me moan and go hard. He knelt in front of me and took my cock in his mouth, sucking it hard. Off and on, he pulled away and, with a laugh, he slapped my cock and I writhed within the confines of my restraints.

A gloved hand encased my balls and pulled them down. A ball stretcher was wrapped around the base of the sac, bunching my balls in one packet, which he patted and then crushed with his fist until I was writhing and screaming through the ball gag. Heavy weights were hung from the ball stretcher, distending my aching balls toward the floor. He patted the weights, sending them swinging back and forth, making me moan at the aching stretch of the balls.

Another slap of the cock, making me jerk and gasp, and then nipple clips, connected by a chain were being put in place. He pulled on the chain, pulling my nipples painfully away from my body. Eyes watering again, throwing my head back and screaming again through the ball gag to the ceiling. Pull. Release. Pull. Release. Enjoying my deep moans and groans.

Once again a slap of the dick and a squeeze of the balls.

Then the flogging began. "Dance for me," he growled in a low, purposely changed voice.

And I danced for him as well as I could, in the confines of the restraints, trying to get away from the lash as he flogged me. On the back, on the chest, on the thighs. On my cock and balls. Never with as much power behind it as Jesse had used. Never enough to leave the angry red welts that Jesse did that last night. But with enough stinging force to have me huffing and puffing, dancing, and writhing for him.

A laugh and then a slap of the cock, a squeeze of the balls. A pull at the nipple chain. And then another, and another.

Then the sound of a zapper. "Dance for me," he growled.

And I danced for him as he touched me, giving me an electric shock, with the tip of the zapper. On the buttocks, the thighs, lifting my feet, zapping the tender insoles. My upper inner thighs, giving me notice of where he was working toward. But then painfully jerking the nipple clips off, and while they still stung, zapping me on the nipples. On my cheek. Back to the upper inner thighs. My balls, causing me to writhe in agony. Again and again. Up under the ball sac on the taint. On the bulb of my cock, causing me to bite down on the rubber of the ball gag and almost slicing through it with my teeth.

As I hung there, sagging on the restraints, moaning deeply, the zapper entering my channel. Zap once, twice, three times.

Hanging and moaning.

Pulling the ball gag out and putting his mouth close to an ear.

"Tell me you want more."

"I want more."

"Tell me you want me to fuck you."

"I want you to fuck me, Daddy."

A laugh and the ball gag was reinserted.

Then and only then, he knelt in front of me, taking my cock in his mouth, a hand pulling down on the stretcher weights. Sucking me, sucking me, sucking me. When I was about to come, pulling out, slapping my cock, laughing. Then taking me in his mouth and, eventually, letting me cum.

I was released from the wrist restraints and just sank to the carpet, moaning.

"Liked that, didn't you?" he growled in my ear in the false voice he was using.

I mumbled something through the ball gag. But, dammit, it had sent me to a higher heaven. Like Jesse, but still not quite to the edges Jesse reached. Enough, though.

He'd released my wrists, but had immediately imprisoned them again. The yoke rod again. He didn't release the ankle extender.

I was manhandled to the bed and slammed on my back, the yoke hanging over the end of the bed—thus my head and hands there too. The nipple clips came back on and he'd shimmied his way under the ankle extender and on top of me. He worked a thick cock inside my channel and plowed me hard, one hand rhythmically pulling on the chain of the nipple clamps. I bucked with him, wanting him to come inside me. I came again, but he didn't. I thought he was ready to come, but he wasn't.

He pulled out of my ass, my cum dripping down my inner thighs; climbed off the bed; and came around to my head, where it was thrown over the end of the bed. The ball gag came out, but I had no time to say anything before a mouth cage was inserted, holding my mouth wide open. Holding it open for him to slide his thick cock inside my mouth and face fuck me. He came in big globs down my throat, making me sputter and gag.

I sensed the vial coming to my face that time, smelling hints of that odor before it reaching my face. I held my breath and pretended that I had inhaled whatever it was and that it had put me out. But it didn't. I got enough to be woozy, but I wasn't unconscious.

He puttered around the room, releasing my restraints—all but the blindfold—and gathering up his equipment.

I played unconscious.

Not more than two minutes after I was sure he'd left the room, though, I jerked the blindfold off and painfully rose from the bed. I went immediately to the spare bedroom, where the sliding glass door had been jimmied. He fooled me, though. He'd gone out the front door. I saw the taillights of his vehicle as he raced up my driveway, though—and some sense of the curve of the vehicle's back end.

After checking the refrigerator—sure enough the six pack I'd put in there earlier was gone—I went back to my bedroom and flopped down on the bed. I was panting shallowly, growling deep down in my throat, and going over what had happened that night. And I was smiling and hardening up again. I . . . just . . . couldn't help myself. I reached for the Fleshjack.

Whooie, I daydreamed as I lay on my back, working the Fleshjack up and down on my hard cock and moving my pelvis with the motion, I hadn't had a taking like those of the last couple of days since Jesse. I might not be lonely for him after all. But this being taken by surprise—and at night, when I should be sleeping—was wearing me out. Besides, if all the nighttime assaults were designed to scare me into selling my land, they could escalate into something else altogether, something beyond the kinky sex. Something potentially lethal.