A Stimulating Life Ch. 05

When Angel and Olivia learned that I had a high pain tolerance, they sought out other ways to traumatize me other than physical pain.

As their slave, they had a right to interrogate me and they'd learned that I became suffered from embarrassment easily. Even though I had been kept forcibly naked for over a week, I could still get embarrassed at my naked body being exposed to people.

And of course, there were certain circumstances that could make my humiliation worse. If my close friends, coworkers, or family were there to witness me being stripped naked, that had a much stronger effect on me psychologically. And if they were to see me naked, bound and spanked or whipped, it was humiliating in the extreme.

My family lived thousands of miles away, so getting family out here to witness my humiliation was highly unlikely, however, Olivia had managed to get ahold of Christopher. Christopher was one of my best friends and like me, he was a ballet dancer with the Chandler Theatre. He's seen me naked before in the showers after rehearsals, but he'd never seen me naked while being bound and whipped before.

"Isn't he beautifully behaved, Christopher?" Olivia asked my friend.

"Oh, yes, yes he is," Christopher replied, staring at my naked body as I hung in suspension bondage. The twins had converted their basement into a makeshift dungeon, and I had allowed Olivia and her sister to render me helpless while Christopher watched. Christopher watched silently and seemed shocked that I had allowed the twins to do such demeaning things to me.

"He's such a beautiful slave," Angel commented, "Are you ready to be whipped, darling?"

"Yes, Angel."

Angel and her sister were identical twins. Even their voices and mannerisms were identical. And they had a confusing habit of dressing themselves in identical outfits. It was difficult to tell which one was Angel, and which one was Olivia and if I called one by the wrong name, I got punished.

I had guessed correctly, so I earned no additional stripes, however, I had already been sentenced to twenty-six lashes. That would be plenty painful, and with Christopher watching, it would be plenty humiliating.

My masochistic nature was such that I got sexually aroused whenever I was spanked, whipped, or similarly punished, and Christopher couldn't help but notice how hard and erect my cock was as I awaited punishment. It was embarrassing for me for Christopher to see me like this, but my mistresses had demanded that I call Christopher and invite him over to witness my punishment.

Angel and Olivia were both holding whips. To me they looked like long, thin strips of leather that some amateur had attached to some sort of handle. The whips looked cheap and homemade, although the twins assured me that they were expensive pieces of leather craftsmanship.

Not that it made much different to my naked flesh. The girls took turns administering pain across the bare skin of my toned and desirable ass. I was completely naked as per usual and was hanging by my wrists which were strapped tightly with leather bands. My toes were perhaps an inch off the floor, close enough to be frustrating but elevated enough that I couldn't touch the floor. With each impact of the whip my body jerked and writhed in mid-air. Then my body would slowly sway back and forth while awaiting the next blow from the giggling teenagers.

I attempted to be stoic and not put on a show while Christopher was watching, but the red-hot sting on the whip on my naked flesh overrode my self-control and before too long there were tears welled up on my eyes and I writhed in pain and was unable to stifle my screams. Christopher watched wide-eyed as crimson stripes sprang into life on my naked skin. My vision was blurry as wet tears overflowed from my eyes, however, Christopher appeared to be transfixed and fascinated by my punishment.

"That's halfway," Olivia informed Christopher, after I'd endured thirteen lashes on my naked flesh. Most of the time the whip struck me across the curves of my buttocks, however a few lashes of the whip slashed across the backs of my thighs, and the pain there was excruciating.

"He has such a beautiful bottom," Olivia commented as she and her sister paused in whipping my backside, "Don't you agree, Christopher?"

My bottom was seething with such scalding pain I could barely focus on the words Olivia was saying. I hung in my bonds, my body glistening with sweat, my eyes welled up with tears and I rubbed the side of my face against a raised arm and wiped some of the tears away. I was so absorbed with pervasive throbbing sensation in my abused backside, I failed to understand the words that came out of Christopher's mouth.

"He's magnificent," I heard Christopher reply as I rubbed one leg against each other and swayed back and forth. I had always believed Christopher to be strictly heterosexual, but the way he was scrutinizing my naked body, he seemed smitten with me.

"It's funny how you can see a person every day and not really see them," Christopher commented as his eyes continued to study my helpless nudity.

"He has a bottom that was made for whipping," Angel replied, "And his legs are exquisite."

"He's a dancer," Christopher replied, "After years of training and rehearsals, he's got dancer's legs. I never really noticed before, but his legs look amazing."

I felt confused and discomfited as Christopher spoke. After months of us being friends, it seemed that he was developing a crush on me. And all it took was for him to see me helplessly bound and getting my naked ass whipped by two sadistic girls.

I screamed lustily when the girls resumed whipping me. And to add to my humiliation, my cock was so hard and swollen that it ached. Yes, I feared the whip, but it also excited me, and being helpless and punished by domineering men and women typically filled me with wave after wave of desire. And now one of my best friends could see evidence of that desire as my cock remained hard while the whip crisscrossed my innocent backside.

I writhed and twisted under the whip. I kicked and yelped and often screamed. And while this wasn't my first time being whipped, Christopher being there to witness my pain and humiliation somehow made it more demeaning.

"You're behaving delightfully," Olivia said. "Such exquisite writhing! I particularly like the way you raise yourself up by your wrists. Does it ease the pain a bit?"

I was incapable of formulating a verbal response. The combination of stinging pain and overwhelming humiliation robbed me temporarily of the power of speech. I was reduced to moaning, panting and the occasional agonized scream.

"The whip marks make your bottom ever more alluring, you know," one of the twins informed me.

My only reply to her was with gasps and groans.

"He has quite a high pain tolerance," the other sister informed Christopher, "He can stand quite a lot of this."

When the twin sister finally stopped abusing my innocent backside, it was seething with incandescent pain, and my arms and wrists exhausted. I desperately wanted to get my feet back on the floor, but the twins insisted that I be left bound and suspended for at least another half hour.

"Since you and Christopher are such good friends, we thought that we'd leave the two of you alone to chat and catch up," one of the twins informed me, "We'll be upstairs in the kitchen or the dining room. Just send Christopher to find us if you need anything."

So, the twins left the basement and I was left naked and hanging by her wrists and with a very sore bottom. Christopher's eyes were glued to my helpless, naked body and I felt overwhelmed with humiliation.

I went limp, hung her head and sighed. My bottom was on fire and I knew there would be angry red marks all over it if only I could see it. I continued to sob as I swayed slowly back and forth.

Christopher approached me and said, "You're in a lot of pain right now, aren't you?"

"Oh God, yes," I replied, "It feels like I sat on a hot stove."

"And yet you've got one of the most impressive erections I've ever seen," Christopher observed.

"It's a sexual thing," I admitted, "I'm a natural-born submissive. I learned that from Darya. She used to strip me naked, put me in restraints and did all sort of painful things to me. I learned that it was sexually arousing to be naked, overwhelmed, objectified and defeated."

"Well, sexually arousing for you, maybe," was Christopher's response, "If I were in your position, I think I'd be too terrified to get an erection."

"For me, terror is part of the sexual excitement," I admitted, as I hung there helplessly, my bare feet just inches above the floor. I wanted to have my feet back on the floor. The strain on my arms and shoulders had gotten to the point of being painful.

"I have to admit," Christopher said as his eye assessed my naked body, "you look more fetching when you're helpless and suffering. I never would have suspected."

"You sound like Darya," I observed, "she's said something very similar to me."

Christopher had seen me naked plenty of times and he never showed the slightest sexual interest in me. After rehearsals, we'd often showered together, and he never gave me a second look. But now that I was bound, helpless, suffering, stretched taut and suspended from the ceiling, he was gazing upon my naked body as if I were the erotic thing to ever walk on two legs.

I squirmed reflexively as Christopher's eyes scrutinized my naked body. The intensity of his look made me feel more naked than I'd ever thought possible. Christopher smiled a rarified smile, like it was his birthday and he'd just been given the most desirable gift of his entre life.

My heart pounded in my chest, my mouth went dry and I rubbed one of my legs against the other, causing my hard cock to twitch slightly to the left. And when I looked down, I could see a thick dollop of precum had formed at the tip pf my swollen cock. Christopher's gaze focused intently on my hard erection and he nodded as if in approval.

"I see naked ballet dancers every day," Christopher commented as he closed the distance between us, "but it's rare that I ever get to have sex with them, or even fondle them for that matter. Does that seem fair to you?"

I didn't have a ready answer for that, so I just hung there, my naked body taut and helpless as Christopher reached out and gently pressed his hand to my naked chest.

My head was reeling. I was helpless, defenseless and my naked body stretched and open with my wrists bound far above my head. Christopher knew in theory that I was into BDSM, but there was a huge difference between Christopher knowing about my submissive side and him witnessing me naked and helpless and suspended from the ceiling.

And while one of his hands was pressed to my chest, another hand fondled my poor, abused buttocks.

"You never answered my question," Christopher said, "Does it seem fair to you that I see these dancers every day, see their perfect bodies stark naked every day, but almost never get to fondle or play with them?"

This seemed like a complex question that required a philosophical or ethical answer, but my ass was throbbing with red-hot pain from my recent whipping, so I gave up on trying to come up with a scholarly answer to Christopher's question and just told him what I thought he wanted to hear.

"I guess that must seem pretty unfair," I said as Christopher proceeded to fondle my naked body.

I was emotionally conflicted. Christopher was a companionable, welcoming person. He was the first friend I had made when I moved to California. It felt embarrassing and shaming for someone as nice and clean-cut as Christopher to see me like this, yet at the same time, I found myself getting aroused at the way he was touching me and I wanted him to continue. I wanted his touches to become bolder and more demanding.

Without any urging from me, Christopher proceeded to do just that. He ran his hands up and down my flanks, he ran his fingertips across my thighs and explored my abdomen and torso. Then the fingertips of his right hand traced lazy circles across my chest, eventually centering on one of my nipples and the surrounding areola.

Involuntarily, I moaned. My slave training had been deliberately designed to raise my sexual need to thermospheric heights. The more Christopher touched me, the more my body thrummed with agonizing waves of desire. It didn't matter that Christopher was my best friend, I found my body reacting eagerly to his touch.

"Well," Christopher said smiling, "now that I've got you all naked and helpless, I'm going to make up for lost time. The way Angel and Olivia had you trussed up, it's like they're offering up your naked body to me as a gift."

Then he scooped up my balls in one hand and lifted them up. My cock and scrotum are waxed regularly, so my balls were smooth. Christopher commented on how soft and smooth I was down there and continued to fondle my ball sack while I squirmed uncomfortably.

Because of my submissive nature, I enjoy being sexually objectified, but it was much more shaming to be sexually objectified by my best friend. A portion of my brain wanted Christopher to stop immediately, but another part of my brain found the shame and humiliation to be delicious.

As Christopher fondled my genitals, I reflexively closed my eyes. On a certain level I was enjoying this, but on another level, I was feeling guilt and shame for enjoying this. Without thinking I struggled against the restraints that held me. I couldn't break free, but my frantic attempt to break free helped to assuage the guilt I was feeling.

Patient and gentle, Christopher released my scrotum from his grasp and began to brush his fingertips across my abdomen instead.

"Your abs are hard," Christopher enthused, "but your skin is so soft and touchable."

I tried to shrug off my feelings of guilt and instead embraced my feelings of helplessness. I was naked, wrists bound and suspended from the ceiling. There was nothing I could do to stop him, so why feel guilty?

As I hung there helpless, Christopher's hands explored my lower torso. I tried to pretend like I wasn't enjoying it, but I gasped and panted, and my cock was hard and embarrassingly erect. I squirmed and trembled as he felt me up. He touched me everywhere, and eventually placed one of his hands on the shaft of my hard, swollen cock.

I reflexively shuddered when he touched me there, but instead of releasing my penis from his grasp, he tightened his grip.

"Your balls are incredibly heavy," Christopher observed and he palmed my scrotum with one hand while he gripped the shaft of my cock with the other, "And your cock is as hard as iron."

My cock throbbed in response to his words, and Christopher noticed.

"It's like those two girls are starving this cock," Christopher said with a wicked smile on his face, "Should we let them get away with that?"

There was a pulsing fire I my loins and my cock was so hard and swollen that it ached, but the shame of asking Christopher to play with my cock and give me an orgasm would be too much, so instead I responded, "You can see that I'm helpless and vulnerable. My body is yours. You can do whatever you want to me."

Those words seemed to help Christopher make a decision. Without thinking, I closed my eyes. Watching my best friend play with my cock could give me shameful and humiliating memories for years to come. And then I felt his hands on my inner thighs, pushing my legs further apart. As a ballet dancer, I am quite flexible, and Christopher knew that. So, he pushed my legs obscenely far apart, making me few quite helpless as indecent.

"Keep those legs apart," Christopher ordered and then he turned his back on me and went about the basement, in search of something. Eventually he returned with several lengths of rope and he began the process of tying my ankles far apart.

For a ballet dancer Christopher was extremely adept at tying knots. And after my ankles were tightly bound, he tied the ropes off to wooden beams to my left and to my right. When Christopher was finished with his work, my ankles were at least fifty inches apart. It wasn't a dancer's split, but it was extremely wide and made me feel helpless and vulnerable.

"Darya was always into this sort of bondage," Christopher commented, "I think I see why. You look a lot more fetching all helpless and on display like that. And you've got this defeated, supplicating look on your face."

"You're saying I'm more attractive when I'm bound?"

"You were always a good looking guy," Christopher responded, "but being bound and helpless really enhances your beauty. If I hadn't seen it for myself, I probably wouldn't have believed it."

Then, with my legs bound extraordinarily far apart, Christopher gripped the shaft of my cock in one hand and brushed his thumb across the sensitive head.

"Exquisite," Christopher said softly as he played with my sensitive cock. It throbbed and twitched in his hand and I felt a powerful orgasm building inside of me, but then he took his hand away just as I was about climax.

"Aaahhh," I gasped. A tidal wave of agonizing desire had built inside of me and it had almost crashed upon the shore, but then Christopher pulled his hand away, leaving my frustrated. In sexual despair, I vainly struggled against the restraints.

"Christopher, please," I begged.

Rather than respond, Christopher proceeded to rummage around the basement once again. When he came back, he held up a tube of some sort of sexual lubricant.

"When you cum, I want to be inside of you," Christopher announced as he uncapped the tube and poured some of the greasy lubricant into his right hand.

With my legs bound far apart, my anus was exposed and defenseless. Christopher located it easily and pressed two oily fingers against my sensitive anal orifice. His lubed fingers felt cold against my anus and I felt ten times more helpless than before.

It doesn't matter how many times I'm anally penetrated, I'm always gripped by an alarming sense of helplessness. It doesn't matter if I'm impaled on a man's cock, an invasive finger or some sort of sex toy, all anal intrusions leave me filled with a dread feeling of powerlessness.

I didn't mention any of this out loud, I merely gasped as Christopher's fingers entered me. Of course, my feelings of helplessness escalated my feelings of desire and my cock shuddered as if it had been zapped with a sudden electric shock. And while I panted and writhed in naked bondage, Christopher's inquisitive fingers explored, probed, and teased.

I closed my eyes and did my best not to struggle. I relaxed my anal muscles as best I could and allowed Christopher to play with my asshole. It's not like I could have stopped him, even if I tried.

"Open those eyes, Scott," Christopher admonished, "I want to watch your eyes go all dreamy as I make you come."

Once more I obeyed. Obedience was inevitable, so why fight it? And as his fingertips teased my prostate gland, I looked at Christopher and for the first time in my life I noticed that he was quite beautiful. He had blue eyes, high cheekbones, full, kissable lips, long eyelashes, flawless skin and his blonde hair was soft and wavy.

And when he gripped my cock in his tight, greasy grip, we stared fixedly into each other's eyes with an understanding. He and I had been friends, but our relationship had now changed forever. I was now his possession. I had a deep-seated need to be objectified, used, punished, and abused. Christopher had decided to fulfill that need, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. Even when my mandated term of slavery was over, I would seek Christopher out and invite him to be my master if he didn't initiate things on his own.

I heard myself moaning, as I was impaled on his strong, probing fingers. His lubricated fingers explored and probed while his other hand gripped my cock hard and roughly twisted it. I gasped and trembled in my bondage as I was raped by fingers deep within my ass and my cock was mercilessly squeezed, pulled, stroked, and manipulated. Christopher's fingers were insistent, and my wrists and ankles ached as I reflexively strained against my bonds. And yet the whole time, I kept my eyes open and focused on Christopher's boyish face as he raped my ass and forced me to cum.