**He was hanging from a chain, feet flat on the floor about three feet apart, giving me plenty of room to work. He was naked and blindfolded; I was wearing a leather vest and chaps that let my own cock hang out. When I’m working like this I want the freedom to do whatever I want.
I had these half-inch wide metal O-rings that bolted down on one side. I doubted I’d get through them all — I had a baker’s dozen or so — , but a guy’s got to hope. I teased him with my touch: chest, nipples, cock. I lightly brushed it and it sprung to attention. I chuckled at that.
There’s something so hot about it. There he was, knowing I was going to hurt him, and hurt him a lot. And there is his cock, standing at attention as soon as you touch it.
I grabbed the base of his balls with my left thumb-and-forefinger, and pulled down. The first ring was in my right hand, and slid the solid side around back, closed and tightened it down.
There was enough space for another one, so I put it on. Letting go, his balls pressed against the metal rings. I ran my hand over them, noting that the skin was still loose. He sighed happily.
“You like that?” I asked. He nodded. I chuckled. My cock bounced happily.
Slowly, I stretched his balls down, adding two more rings, then a fifth. I grabbed the whole thing in my hand, and he shifted, standing there. His sack was tight, the skin there smooth as silk. I ran my nails over it and he shuddered.
I backed away from him again, pulling down two leather floggers. Starting with the lighter one, I flogged his cock and balls. He sucked in his breath as the flogger hit. His hands flexed on the chains as he stoically took what I was doing.
That just would not do.
Switching to the heavier flogger, I made his balls swing, his cock dance. He stood there, taking it. His arms held him upright, his bottom lip between his teeth. I hit him harder, and he gasped. Setting down the flogger, I walked over to him, and grabbed his cock, which was slick with precum. I fed it to him, and he lapped it up, sighing.
I grabbed his cock again and squeezed it hard. He gasped. I twisted it, still holding tight, and he finally let out a yell. “He makes a noise,” I said. “Want me to stop?”
He shook his head no. I twisted his cock again. “Like that?”
He whimpered, and thrust his pelvis. “Want more rings, I have eight more?”
“Yes, please,” he whispered.
I laughed, and fondled my own cock, and planned what I’d do to him.**