Accepting what’s given

I make a lot of noise about how much I want to bottom.  However, when I do have the motivation to top, I truly enjoy it.  “Bo Doppel” (NSFW link) wrote about the first half of a scene (NSFW link) we did a couple of weeks ago, and he’s planning to write about the second half.  I’m looking forward to it, because I want to see how it matches with my perceptions of it.

I untied him from the steel ladder to the loft of the cabin we were staying in: arms, legs and neck.  I left the rope cuffs dangling from his wrists as we stepped away.  I was still locked in my chastity device and my transparent latex catsuit, he was still horny as hell in his shiny black catsuit.  I led him over to the carpet in front of the couch.

“How do you feel about difficult bondage positions?” I asked, and proceeded, with his consent, to tie his arms up behind his back.  With some short work I had him in a hogtie.  His boots were strapped tightly together and linked up to the ropes pinning his arms.

He was uncomfortable lying on his belly, with his cock trapped under him, so I rolled him on his side.  Of course, that’s not exactly a comfortable position either, so I pulled a pillow down off the couch, laid it on the floor under his head, then put my arm under his head as I lay down on the floor facing him.

We lay like that, and kissed for a while.  That’s something I love doing.  Yes, there is such a thing as too much, but the boy was very responsive.

As we made out, I got a good grip on his balls, which I’d been working earlier.  I slowly squeezed and pulled on them, enjoying his reactions.  I could feel his breathing quicken, heard his soft moans of pleasure and pain as I adjusted the tightness of my grip.

Over time, I slowly increased the pressure of his balls in my hand.  Lying on my left side, my right hand was all I had to work with, so I had to be focused in my control.  I gathered his balls down from his body by making a tight circle with my thumb and forefinger.

Slowly, I increased the pressure on his balls with other three fingers.  When working balls, you need to be careful to distribute the pressure evenly.  It’s easier to cope with ball torture when the sensation is balanced.  In the end, the sub can take a whole lot more.

As I increased the pressure, he pulled back from our kiss moaned and closed his eyes.  His breathing continued to quicken.

“Open your eyes boy, and look at me.”  His beautiful eyes opened and focused on me.  “Stay with me here.  I want to see your eyes.  Slow your breathing.  In,” I had already matched my breathing to his and it made it easier to emphasize by clearly slowing down on an intake.  “And out.”  I exhaled slowly, keeping us synched.  He obeyed easily.  All the while as he got control of his breathing, our eyes met.

I leaned in to kiss him, pulling him closer.

“Good boy,” I complimented him.  “Do you want more?”  He deliberately nodded.

“I can be cruel.  I am a sadist.  We’ll build up, but I will cause you pain.  Are you sure?”

He was great, acknowledging he wanted more, so I slowly built up the pressure, having maintained the grip on his balls.

Over the next fifteen minutes, I ramped up his pain a few times.  I enjoyed tormenting him.

I was thinking about ending it at one point.  I honestly don’t remember who prompted the last round.  But he let me know he wanted to be pushed harder.

His pupils were slightly dilated, his eyes large, dark, and so much the puppy dog.  He wanted more.  And so I squeezed.

It’s hard to express the feeling of having someone by the balls; someone who has willingly given himself over to your control.  We were in a cabin in the woods in the middle of Pennsylvania.  The nearest people were a five to ten minute walk away, over a slight hill.  Even if he’d screamed in pain, it’s unlikely anyone would’ve come to his rescue, knowing who was there.

Though he moaned and whimpered, Bo didn’t scream.  Our eyes met, and I watched the play of emotions on his face as I increased the pressure: first pleasure, to mild discomfort, to pain.  As the pain increased, I watched his eyes switch from acceptance to pleading.

“You’re doing really good, boy.  Really good.  Can you take more for me?”  His eyes widened slightly, his mouth opened slightly, but he nodded.

“Good boy!  Now keep your eyes on me.  Focus on your breathing.”  I knew we were reaching his limit.  I was already impressed with his ability to take this abuse.  My forearm was cramping from the pressure I was exerting over time.

I was coming to a decision point shortly.  This was our first time playing; I wanted to leave him in one piece.  Seeing how well he’d responded to my comments of him being a good boy, I was slightly concerned that he might push himself too hard.  Boys do that: trying to impress or make proud the man he’s submitting to.  It’s part of what I like in a sub.

Taking is fun sometimes.  But more… satisfying … is accepting what a boy is willing to give me, especially when it’s difficult.  Feeling that trust the boy is giving me, that makes me happy.

So I was coming to that decision point, the pressure of my hand on his balls continued to creep up.  Then I saw it.  Watching his eyes was more than just appreciation of beauty.  There was a slight change in the wrinkles around his eyes.  His breathing increased.

“Stop!”

In the same instant he finally voiced his agony, I was already letting go of his balls.  My right arm flung around his body, joining my left to pull him into an embrace.  I cradled his head to my chest, and held him tight.

“It’s all over now.  No more pain.  You did real good.  You made me proud there.”  I repeated softly in his ear over and over as a few soft sobs escaped from him.  I slowly rocked, holding him, until he settled down some.

As we cuddled, and then as I proceeded to untie him, he told me that he had been wanting a scene that would bring him to tears, and that he was hoping that it might happen during the weekend.  I was glad to know that I could give him something close to what he had wanted.

As I rubbed circulation into his limbs, I again told him I was proud of him.  It’s the truth.  I was honored and flattered that felt he could trust me.