“I don’t get fucked and I don’t suck cock.” Friedrich made that emphatically clear. He was Austrian, doing business in the area. He sounded just like Schwarzeneger and looked like him, too. A massive bodybuilder. Perfect muscles. Perfect skin, smooth and unblemished…no hair, no tats, no piercings. Handsome. Dark hair and piercing black eyes. Arrogant. “It’s Freedrich, NOT Fredrick!” And he was doing me a huge favor by deigning to come home with me. No problem. I was humble (“You can fuck me all you want, Friedrich, and I’ll give you the best blow job ever.”) Whatever it took, I wanted that body in my playroom.
The drugged beer took him down quickly. I shaved what little body hair he had and gave him an enema to clean him out. I knew what I wanted tonight. I wrapped a chain around his chest, just below his pecs, fastened it in the back and pulled him up so his feet were just off the floor. Chained his wrists behind his back. I also stretched chains tightly around each thigh, just above his knees. Because he was so strong, I used extra heavy duty chains and locks.
I stepped back to admire his gorgeous physique. I’ve had some guys here with great builds, but this was the first pure bodybuilder I’d ever lured into my playroom. Absolutely spectacular! He was about 6’2”, 240#, 32” waist, 50” chest, 20” biceps, and thighs almost as thick as his waist. His rock hard muscles were wrapped in pure white skin, soft as silk. And he was hung! A huge uncut cock and large balls hanging in a big loose sac from his shaved crotch. Not the stereotypical bodybuilder at all! I shot liquid Viagra into the base of his cock and watched it grow even bigger. Ten inches and thick! Glad as hell I won’t have to make good on that promise to let him fuck me!
Friedrich was naked. I wore steel-toe construction boots and heavy socks, tight white hiking shorts, and a baseball cap. Well, the shorts weren’t white anymore. I’d worn them for most of my sessions and they were stained with the blood of many men. A bit crusty, too. Never been washed. A DNA test would tell quite a story.
As he dangled in front of me, I rubbed my hands over every inch of his body. My dick was throbbing, unaccustomed to such magnificence. My mouth sucked at his tits, his biceps, his belly button (an outie), his thighs and calves, and of course, his cock and balls. I was in Heaven and God was in my arms. I thought back to when I brought Nick home, a guy who looked like David. Michelangelo took a slab of marble and turned it into his perfect man. I, in turn, would take this perfect man and turn him into a slab of meat.
“Shithead!” broke my reverie. Friedrich was awake. “Let me out of here, you asshole! I don’t play games like this!” “Not yet, Friedrich, we got stuff to do.” “No way, fucker! I’m going home!” He kicked out at me and almost got my crotch. I grabbed his nuts and squeezed hard. As he sucked in breath, I said quietly “Do that again and these will be flat. Got that, Freddy?” I kept squeezing until he nodded and then let go. I slapped his face hard. He spit in my eye. I just smiled as the goober slid down my cheek. I leaned down and bit his left nipple, bit it hard. His body jerked and he let out a yelp as my teeth ripped at his tit. I drew blood and stepped back. His eyes shot pure hatred at me but I detected a little fear, too.
I hooked to the chains around his thighs and pulled them out and up. He soon was suspended horizontally by this shoulders and thighs, legs spread wide, his dick opposite my mouth. His head hung backwards but he brought it up to see what I was going to do. “Nice dick, Friedrich. Let’s make it happy.” I slid my mouth over it but couldn’t shallow more than half of it. I bit down hard. He lurched and yelled. I ground my teeth on his shaft, tearing the skin, and drawing blood. Then dropped my mouth to his huge nuts. I sucked on them, one at a time, pressing hard. My teeth ripped at his sac and tore off bits of skin.
My mouth dropped further and found his hole, puckered and pink, and very tight. As I tried to wedge my tongue inside, Friedrich let out a shout. “No! That hurts! I don’t get fucked!” Well, that’s about to change. I spit on my finger and probed. Yeah, really tight. It’s true. He’s never been fucked. A virgin! Now I was excited. I slid my finger inside as Friedrich howled in pain. I finger fucked him to loosen it up and then shoved in two fingers. Louder howls. (I sure as hell didn’t make this much noise the first time I got fucked.) Twisting, the two fingers became three. He was really in pain now and I wasn’t letting up. In and out, in and out. Three became four. I know it was painful because except for the first bit of saliva, I was using no lubricant, and his hole was dry. Finally, I took four fingers with my thumb tucked underneath, and began to push slowly, very slowly, into his butthole, stretching his sphincter. It ripped a little. Blood appeared. I pulled out to see several cracks in his sphincter, cracks oozing blood. I let it cover my hand and resumed my slow butt probe with the crimson lubricant easing my passage. The whole time, Friedrich was screaming, his body lurching in the chains, head bobbing up and down, and legs below his chains kicking wildly. Finally, my hand popped through, entering comfortably into his colon.
The first time I fisted a guy, I couldn’t believe the incredible feeling. My hand inside a colon, warm and moist, a silky texture, and soft folds. I had never felt anything so sexy. I later fantasized shoving my head into a clean asshole, feeling my face caressed by the moist tissue, licking its warm interior, sucking at the folds. On the other hand, I’ve also fantasized ripping out the colon from within.
I left my hand inside his ass for a couple minutes, to both savor the pleasure and allow him to relax, and then yanked it out fast, really fast. As it popped out, Friedrich let loose with a loud shriek followed by a long howl. Ignoring his pain, or reveling in it, I punched my fist in again and quickly withdrew. Several times more, in and out, in and out, stretching his hole more and more. Then I moved to two hands at once. Friedrich’s screams and howls and shrieks became merely one long continuous moan. His head dropped back and his legs kicked very little. For a full half hour, I worked his asshole, stretching and ripping. Sometimes using two hands. Sometimes punching my balled up fist into the hole time and again. I finally got tired and stopped to look closely. The hole was five inches wide and didn’t close up like it should have. It just stared back at me. I cleaned it with a cloth and could see into his pink colon but there were so many rips in the sphincter that blood began to seep right away.
Friedrich was in severe pain and almost passed out. Time for more fun. I brought out a pair of work boots I’d found in a thrift shop. Size eighteen. Huge. Friedrich looks to be about an eleven. I filled the boots with broken glass and slid one over Friedrich’s left foot. Then I poured more glass in, covering the sides and top of his foot, before tightening just one lace at the top of his ankle. The shards could move around inside the boot but not come out. I did the same with the other foot. With his two feet hanging loose below the thigh chains and the pain he was feeling from his ass pounding, he wouldn’t notice this for now.
I walked around and massaged Friedrich’s belly and chest. I cradled his head in my hands and whispered “OK, bud. That’s over. You’ll be fine. I’m going to let you down so you can stand up. And then I’ll loosen the chains.” He looked at me, beseechingly. I raised him by the chest a bit and then slowly lowered his legs. They hung a foot above the floor as I removed the chains around his thighs. Friedrich’s eyes had a look of relief, and his breathing was almost normal, as I lowered his feet to the floor.
When his feet hit the floor under his full weight, he let out a shriek louder than any before. He jerked his feet off the floor and held them in the air. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Ow! Ow! Ow!” “Friedrich, I’m going to loosen your wrists so you can grab the chain over your head and hold yourself up.” I unlocked his wrists and he reached up to grab the chain. As he did, I snapped his wrists together, hooked him to another chain, and pulled him up. The chain around his chest was removed and there he was, suspended solely by his wrists, all 240 pounds pulling down and digging the steel links into the bones of his wrists. I let him drop to the floor so the 240 pounds were now pressing down on his feet. More screams as broken glass tore into the soles of his feet. He danced. He hopped. Legs and feet flailing in every direction. When he tried pulling his feet up, I kept lowering him closer to the floor. I would not let him pull his feet off the floor.
I walked in front of him. Friedrich’s body was covered with sweat, his face contorted. Crying. Wailing. Screeching. And every muscle straining to escape the pain. And, God, what muscles they were! Blood dripped from his asshole, running down the back of his thighs into his sharded boots. I raised him so his toes barely touched the floor. I moved close and let his rigid dick rub my shorts, adding his blood to the others’. I ran my hands over his glistening body, feeling abs and pecs, reaching around to touch his back and, yes, his sweet bubble butt. He still looked and felt magnificent. So sexy in his pain. Sexy sounds of pure pain emanating from his mouth. I lowered him again to the floor and stepped on his feet, my 180 pounds adding to the force which shoved the glass deep into his soles and instep. I stood with my arms wrapped around his body, caressing his back, my cheek next to his wailing mouth. So warm and sweaty and slick.
Eventually, I walked behind him, grabbed his sweat-soaked hair, pulled his head way back, slipped a wooden rod into his mouth, and let his head fall forward. The rod, about two inches in diameter and two feet long, was held firmly in his mouth by the force of his head pressing against his biceps. He quickly gripped the stick with his teeth, grinding them into it to try to ease the hurt, the way you grit your teeth when in pain.
The next hour was spent lifting and dropping him so his feet kept hitting the floor. Each time, shards dug deeper into his feet, slicing flesh, grinding against bone. Whenever he thought he might be in a position to ease the pain, I kicked his feet from under him. I punched his eyes and nose a couple times. Ground my teeth into his hard cock. Chewed at his outie belly button. Bit his nipples. Sometimes, I slowed down and his feet seemed to find a position that didn’t hurt so much. Just as he thought he might relieve the pain, I moved in and stomped on his boots, shoving glass deeper into his instep. Even louder screeching then! His boots turned dark and damp as his blood soaked the leather.
Eventually, I let his body drop to the floor, face down, the wooden rod resting on his outstretched arms. He lay whimpering, breathing heavily. I let him rest momentarily and then stomped my boot down on his head, driving the rod further into his mouth. I knelt, pulled his head back by his hair, and tried to pull the stick out. Wouldn’t move. His teeth had been driven deep into the wood. I dropped his head so the stick was resting again on his biceps and went to get my sledgehammer. Wielding it like a croquet mallet, I smashed one end of the wooden rod, driving it to his left side and out of his mouth. One loud shriek and then silence. He had passed out from the shock of pain.
I rolled Friedrich over. Blood ran from his mouth. I looked at the rod and saw many of his teeth embedded in the wood. Ran my fingers inside his mouth. Most of his teeth had been ripped out when I hit the rod and the rest were loose. I sat him up against a post and sucked a lot of blood from his mouth. Didn’t want his to choke on it while unconscious. I used pliers to remove the rest of his teeth. Most were loose and came out easily but two broken ones in the back required a lot of force to finally pull out. Finally, when I ran my fingers into his mouth, all I could feel was the soft, bloody pulp of his ripped-up gums. Nice. The fucker had been through a lot: stretched asshole, feet ripped by broken glass, and now severe dental work. He deserved a rest. And also some morphine to lessen his pain a little and keep him going. So I shoved him onto the floor and gave him a shot of morphine. Then I rolled him over, face down, and let him sleep.
An hour later, I returned and he was just as I’d left him. He lay face down, slightly on his left side. His left arm was at his side; his right hand lay on the floor near his head. Left leg straight, right slightly bent. From this angle, there was not one mark on his body, no evidence of his ordeal, except for a little blood on his inner thighs. His hair was still slick from sweat but the body had dried. For all anyone could tell, he was a god reclining. But when I rolled him onto his back, a different story. Bruised face, gaping hole for a mouth, bloody tits and cock, and a brutalized sphincter. I couldn’t say which side of him turned me on the most.
I pulled Friedrich over to a post and sat him up. Slapped his face a few times until he woke. Eyes glazed over. Was he comprehending anything? I stood, slipped off my shorts, and slapped my rigid cock against his face, back and forth. Then I slid it into his mouth and deep into his throat. And fucked his face. He hardly resisted. His hands came up and held my calves, but that was all. No strength to push me away. Once it felt as if he tried to bite but all that did was cause his bloody gums to hurt. When I pulled out once and looked into his eyes, they seemed to flash a bit of hatred. I resumed pounding my dick down his throat. He choked once and I held it in his throat until he retched. Dry heaves. Finally, I let go, deep spasms of ecstasy as I shot my thick gooey jizz into his throat. Exhausted, I slipped down onto his lap and rested my head against his. No resistance. “I’m proud of you, Muscle Boy. Fucked in both ends. You’re a pussy now.” He was sobbing softly. I left him there to rest for a couple hours in a sitting position, wrists secured behind the post.
When I returned, Friedrich was more alert. As soon as he saw me, he began to call me a fucker, asshole, shithead, and some Austrian words too. Kind of funny listening to him. It’s hard to understand someone with no teeth and a mouthful of blood. I just smiled and said he needed to wash his mouth. I pushed his head back, shoved my dick into his mouth, and peed down his throat. He gagged and spit piss out onto his chest and belly. I pulled back and aimed the stream into his open mouth. When he clamped it closed, I continued pissing in his face.
I pushed him onto the floor, wrapped a chain around one wrist, hooked it to a pulley, dragged him across the room and up to a standing position again. I stretched his legs and arms out in a spread eagle position and looked him over. Of course, his mouth was a mess and there were bruises on his face. His tits, belly button, cock and sac were bloody from my teeth and wet from my piss. His inner thighs sticky with blood that had seeped from his torn rectum. A few bruises on his thighs. But nothing serious, not much real damage at all. He still looked like a god.
I took his helpless body into my arms, caressing his warm smooth skin, holding him tight against my own nakedness. Christ, he was sooooo fucking sensual! His dick had begun to soften and needed more liquid Viagra. But first, I picked up my scissors and snipped away at his foreskin. He howled and writhed in pain, but I managed to complete the circumcision and swallow the skin. Then a shot of Viagra popped his cock up to once again stand tall and rock hard. As it bled, I gave him the blow job I’d promised. I couldn’t get him to cum but I did swallow a lot of red juice from his cock. I was in Heaven! And Friedrich was about to resume his descent into Hell.
I opened a box of cork screws. I walked to his left side and caressed his huge bicep. I pressed the point of the cork screw against it and pressed. The skin broke and I began to slowly, very slowly, turn it. Friedrich jerked wildly, screaming as the sharp metal ripped slowly through his muscle until the entire three-inch cork screw was embedded in his arm. I had never experienced such sexual arousal. With every turn of the screw, ripping through this massive bicep, hearing Friedrich’s terrified screams, feeling his excruciating pain, my cock grew harder than I could ever imagine, and just as I made the final turn, it erupted, blasting my splooge onto Friedrich’s thigh. I grabbed him around his waist and just kept humping his leg until I finally ran out of juice and slid to the floor, exhausted and oblivious to the screeching and writhing above me.
In time, we both calmed down. When I stood, our eyes met, each aware of his fate. His eyes were wide with terror. Mine were soft and dreamy, as if anticipating a night of love. He was a mass of muscle. I was holding a box of corkscrews. An ideal match.
I moved to his right arm and twisted one into his tricep, very slowly, feeling each layer of tissue being punctured. It was as sensual as sliding a knife into a man’s gut. Unless you’ve done it, you cannot know how incredibly erotic it feels to slice through male skin and tissue with a sharp object.
Next, I twisted one into each shoulder, aiming the steel point right into the joint. Now that really had to fucking hurt. Again, I embraced the unfortunate Friedrich. His pain was immense and I knew it was time to give him morphine. I caressed his body, kissed his face, whispered encouragement into his ear. I pulled his head forward. “Look down, Friedrich. Your dick. It’s still hard. I think it’s getting off on all this pain.” His dick was still rigid and standing tall, so I twisted a screw into his pee hole. Then I gave him a shot of morphine.
I’m sure the morphine did some good because, instead of shrieking as each corkscrew entered his body, he made moaning sounds, the volume and intensity rising and falling depending on my actions. Into his calves. Thighs, both front and back. Butt cheeks. I entered each pectoral from the side, and then chewed vigorously on his tits, consuming each nipple. I squeezed his sac tightly and pierced both balls at once.
I knelt behind him and jammed my fist once more into his expanded butthole. Again, I felt his soft moist colon. But this time, instead of luxuriating its sweet warmth, I tore at it with my fingernails. As tissue began to rip and tear, I felt a flood of warm liquid on my arm. I pulled my bloody arm out. This time, blood wasn’t just seeping from his butt and dribbling down his thighs, it was flowing like a small stream. Time to end it.
Friedrich’s eyes were glassy, his moans low and uneven. I took one final corkscrew and put it to his neck, just below his Adam’s apple and above his sternum, and pressed, twisting, slowly piercing his throat and windpipe. I left it there and stepped back. His body twitched once. Then the gurgling began. Strange guttural sounds. An eruption of blood from his mouth. And then his nose. Blood was draining into his lungs and then spurting out as he instinctively tried to breath. (I remembered Chee-kah’s final moments with the sword in his throat.) A few more gurgles. A few more eruptions. A few more twitches. Then silence. Head drooping loosely to the side, his eyes stared into mine.
Friedrich, the god, the epitome muscular beauty, was dead.
The drugged beer took him down quickly. I shaved what little body hair he had and gave him an enema to clean him out. I knew what I wanted tonight. I wrapped a chain around his chest, just below his pecs, fastened it in the back and pulled him up so his feet were just off the floor. Chained his wrists behind his back. I also stretched chains tightly around each thigh, just above his knees. Because he was so strong, I used extra heavy duty chains and locks.
I stepped back to admire his gorgeous physique. I’ve had some guys here with great builds, but this was the first pure bodybuilder I’d ever lured into my playroom. Absolutely spectacular! He was about 6’2”, 240#, 32” waist, 50” chest, 20” biceps, and thighs almost as thick as his waist. His rock hard muscles were wrapped in pure white skin, soft as silk. And he was hung! A huge uncut cock and large balls hanging in a big loose sac from his shaved crotch. Not the stereotypical bodybuilder at all! I shot liquid Viagra into the base of his cock and watched it grow even bigger. Ten inches and thick! Glad as hell I won’t have to make good on that promise to let him fuck me!
Friedrich was naked. I wore steel-toe construction boots and heavy socks, tight white hiking shorts, and a baseball cap. Well, the shorts weren’t white anymore. I’d worn them for most of my sessions and they were stained with the blood of many men. A bit crusty, too. Never been washed. A DNA test would tell quite a story.
As he dangled in front of me, I rubbed my hands over every inch of his body. My dick was throbbing, unaccustomed to such magnificence. My mouth sucked at his tits, his biceps, his belly button (an outie), his thighs and calves, and of course, his cock and balls. I was in Heaven and God was in my arms. I thought back to when I brought Nick home, a guy who looked like David. Michelangelo took a slab of marble and turned it into his perfect man. I, in turn, would take this perfect man and turn him into a slab of meat.
“Shithead!” broke my reverie. Friedrich was awake. “Let me out of here, you asshole! I don’t play games like this!” “Not yet, Friedrich, we got stuff to do.” “No way, fucker! I’m going home!” He kicked out at me and almost got my crotch. I grabbed his nuts and squeezed hard. As he sucked in breath, I said quietly “Do that again and these will be flat. Got that, Freddy?” I kept squeezing until he nodded and then let go. I slapped his face hard. He spit in my eye. I just smiled as the goober slid down my cheek. I leaned down and bit his left nipple, bit it hard. His body jerked and he let out a yelp as my teeth ripped at his tit. I drew blood and stepped back. His eyes shot pure hatred at me but I detected a little fear, too.
I hooked to the chains around his thighs and pulled them out and up. He soon was suspended horizontally by this shoulders and thighs, legs spread wide, his dick opposite my mouth. His head hung backwards but he brought it up to see what I was going to do. “Nice dick, Friedrich. Let’s make it happy.” I slid my mouth over it but couldn’t shallow more than half of it. I bit down hard. He lurched and yelled. I ground my teeth on his shaft, tearing the skin, and drawing blood. Then dropped my mouth to his huge nuts. I sucked on them, one at a time, pressing hard. My teeth ripped at his sac and tore off bits of skin.
My mouth dropped further and found his hole, puckered and pink, and very tight. As I tried to wedge my tongue inside, Friedrich let out a shout. “No! That hurts! I don’t get fucked!” Well, that’s about to change. I spit on my finger and probed. Yeah, really tight. It’s true. He’s never been fucked. A virgin! Now I was excited. I slid my finger inside as Friedrich howled in pain. I finger fucked him to loosen it up and then shoved in two fingers. Louder howls. (I sure as hell didn’t make this much noise the first time I got fucked.) Twisting, the two fingers became three. He was really in pain now and I wasn’t letting up. In and out, in and out. Three became four. I know it was painful because except for the first bit of saliva, I was using no lubricant, and his hole was dry. Finally, I took four fingers with my thumb tucked underneath, and began to push slowly, very slowly, into his butthole, stretching his sphincter. It ripped a little. Blood appeared. I pulled out to see several cracks in his sphincter, cracks oozing blood. I let it cover my hand and resumed my slow butt probe with the crimson lubricant easing my passage. The whole time, Friedrich was screaming, his body lurching in the chains, head bobbing up and down, and legs below his chains kicking wildly. Finally, my hand popped through, entering comfortably into his colon.
The first time I fisted a guy, I couldn’t believe the incredible feeling. My hand inside a colon, warm and moist, a silky texture, and soft folds. I had never felt anything so sexy. I later fantasized shoving my head into a clean asshole, feeling my face caressed by the moist tissue, licking its warm interior, sucking at the folds. On the other hand, I’ve also fantasized ripping out the colon from within.
I left my hand inside his ass for a couple minutes, to both savor the pleasure and allow him to relax, and then yanked it out fast, really fast. As it popped out, Friedrich let loose with a loud shriek followed by a long howl. Ignoring his pain, or reveling in it, I punched my fist in again and quickly withdrew. Several times more, in and out, in and out, stretching his hole more and more. Then I moved to two hands at once. Friedrich’s screams and howls and shrieks became merely one long continuous moan. His head dropped back and his legs kicked very little. For a full half hour, I worked his asshole, stretching and ripping. Sometimes using two hands. Sometimes punching my balled up fist into the hole time and again. I finally got tired and stopped to look closely. The hole was five inches wide and didn’t close up like it should have. It just stared back at me. I cleaned it with a cloth and could see into his pink colon but there were so many rips in the sphincter that blood began to seep right away.
Friedrich was in severe pain and almost passed out. Time for more fun. I brought out a pair of work boots I’d found in a thrift shop. Size eighteen. Huge. Friedrich looks to be about an eleven. I filled the boots with broken glass and slid one over Friedrich’s left foot. Then I poured more glass in, covering the sides and top of his foot, before tightening just one lace at the top of his ankle. The shards could move around inside the boot but not come out. I did the same with the other foot. With his two feet hanging loose below the thigh chains and the pain he was feeling from his ass pounding, he wouldn’t notice this for now.
I walked around and massaged Friedrich’s belly and chest. I cradled his head in my hands and whispered “OK, bud. That’s over. You’ll be fine. I’m going to let you down so you can stand up. And then I’ll loosen the chains.” He looked at me, beseechingly. I raised him by the chest a bit and then slowly lowered his legs. They hung a foot above the floor as I removed the chains around his thighs. Friedrich’s eyes had a look of relief, and his breathing was almost normal, as I lowered his feet to the floor.
When his feet hit the floor under his full weight, he let out a shriek louder than any before. He jerked his feet off the floor and held them in the air. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Ow! Ow! Ow!” “Friedrich, I’m going to loosen your wrists so you can grab the chain over your head and hold yourself up.” I unlocked his wrists and he reached up to grab the chain. As he did, I snapped his wrists together, hooked him to another chain, and pulled him up. The chain around his chest was removed and there he was, suspended solely by his wrists, all 240 pounds pulling down and digging the steel links into the bones of his wrists. I let him drop to the floor so the 240 pounds were now pressing down on his feet. More screams as broken glass tore into the soles of his feet. He danced. He hopped. Legs and feet flailing in every direction. When he tried pulling his feet up, I kept lowering him closer to the floor. I would not let him pull his feet off the floor.
I walked in front of him. Friedrich’s body was covered with sweat, his face contorted. Crying. Wailing. Screeching. And every muscle straining to escape the pain. And, God, what muscles they were! Blood dripped from his asshole, running down the back of his thighs into his sharded boots. I raised him so his toes barely touched the floor. I moved close and let his rigid dick rub my shorts, adding his blood to the others’. I ran my hands over his glistening body, feeling abs and pecs, reaching around to touch his back and, yes, his sweet bubble butt. He still looked and felt magnificent. So sexy in his pain. Sexy sounds of pure pain emanating from his mouth. I lowered him again to the floor and stepped on his feet, my 180 pounds adding to the force which shoved the glass deep into his soles and instep. I stood with my arms wrapped around his body, caressing his back, my cheek next to his wailing mouth. So warm and sweaty and slick.
Eventually, I walked behind him, grabbed his sweat-soaked hair, pulled his head way back, slipped a wooden rod into his mouth, and let his head fall forward. The rod, about two inches in diameter and two feet long, was held firmly in his mouth by the force of his head pressing against his biceps. He quickly gripped the stick with his teeth, grinding them into it to try to ease the hurt, the way you grit your teeth when in pain.
The next hour was spent lifting and dropping him so his feet kept hitting the floor. Each time, shards dug deeper into his feet, slicing flesh, grinding against bone. Whenever he thought he might be in a position to ease the pain, I kicked his feet from under him. I punched his eyes and nose a couple times. Ground my teeth into his hard cock. Chewed at his outie belly button. Bit his nipples. Sometimes, I slowed down and his feet seemed to find a position that didn’t hurt so much. Just as he thought he might relieve the pain, I moved in and stomped on his boots, shoving glass deeper into his instep. Even louder screeching then! His boots turned dark and damp as his blood soaked the leather.
Eventually, I let his body drop to the floor, face down, the wooden rod resting on his outstretched arms. He lay whimpering, breathing heavily. I let him rest momentarily and then stomped my boot down on his head, driving the rod further into his mouth. I knelt, pulled his head back by his hair, and tried to pull the stick out. Wouldn’t move. His teeth had been driven deep into the wood. I dropped his head so the stick was resting again on his biceps and went to get my sledgehammer. Wielding it like a croquet mallet, I smashed one end of the wooden rod, driving it to his left side and out of his mouth. One loud shriek and then silence. He had passed out from the shock of pain.
I rolled Friedrich over. Blood ran from his mouth. I looked at the rod and saw many of his teeth embedded in the wood. Ran my fingers inside his mouth. Most of his teeth had been ripped out when I hit the rod and the rest were loose. I sat him up against a post and sucked a lot of blood from his mouth. Didn’t want his to choke on it while unconscious. I used pliers to remove the rest of his teeth. Most were loose and came out easily but two broken ones in the back required a lot of force to finally pull out. Finally, when I ran my fingers into his mouth, all I could feel was the soft, bloody pulp of his ripped-up gums. Nice. The fucker had been through a lot: stretched asshole, feet ripped by broken glass, and now severe dental work. He deserved a rest. And also some morphine to lessen his pain a little and keep him going. So I shoved him onto the floor and gave him a shot of morphine. Then I rolled him over, face down, and let him sleep.
An hour later, I returned and he was just as I’d left him. He lay face down, slightly on his left side. His left arm was at his side; his right hand lay on the floor near his head. Left leg straight, right slightly bent. From this angle, there was not one mark on his body, no evidence of his ordeal, except for a little blood on his inner thighs. His hair was still slick from sweat but the body had dried. For all anyone could tell, he was a god reclining. But when I rolled him onto his back, a different story. Bruised face, gaping hole for a mouth, bloody tits and cock, and a brutalized sphincter. I couldn’t say which side of him turned me on the most.
I pulled Friedrich over to a post and sat him up. Slapped his face a few times until he woke. Eyes glazed over. Was he comprehending anything? I stood, slipped off my shorts, and slapped my rigid cock against his face, back and forth. Then I slid it into his mouth and deep into his throat. And fucked his face. He hardly resisted. His hands came up and held my calves, but that was all. No strength to push me away. Once it felt as if he tried to bite but all that did was cause his bloody gums to hurt. When I pulled out once and looked into his eyes, they seemed to flash a bit of hatred. I resumed pounding my dick down his throat. He choked once and I held it in his throat until he retched. Dry heaves. Finally, I let go, deep spasms of ecstasy as I shot my thick gooey jizz into his throat. Exhausted, I slipped down onto his lap and rested my head against his. No resistance. “I’m proud of you, Muscle Boy. Fucked in both ends. You’re a pussy now.” He was sobbing softly. I left him there to rest for a couple hours in a sitting position, wrists secured behind the post.
When I returned, Friedrich was more alert. As soon as he saw me, he began to call me a fucker, asshole, shithead, and some Austrian words too. Kind of funny listening to him. It’s hard to understand someone with no teeth and a mouthful of blood. I just smiled and said he needed to wash his mouth. I pushed his head back, shoved my dick into his mouth, and peed down his throat. He gagged and spit piss out onto his chest and belly. I pulled back and aimed the stream into his open mouth. When he clamped it closed, I continued pissing in his face.
I pushed him onto the floor, wrapped a chain around one wrist, hooked it to a pulley, dragged him across the room and up to a standing position again. I stretched his legs and arms out in a spread eagle position and looked him over. Of course, his mouth was a mess and there were bruises on his face. His tits, belly button, cock and sac were bloody from my teeth and wet from my piss. His inner thighs sticky with blood that had seeped from his torn rectum. A few bruises on his thighs. But nothing serious, not much real damage at all. He still looked like a god.
I took his helpless body into my arms, caressing his warm smooth skin, holding him tight against my own nakedness. Christ, he was sooooo fucking sensual! His dick had begun to soften and needed more liquid Viagra. But first, I picked up my scissors and snipped away at his foreskin. He howled and writhed in pain, but I managed to complete the circumcision and swallow the skin. Then a shot of Viagra popped his cock up to once again stand tall and rock hard. As it bled, I gave him the blow job I’d promised. I couldn’t get him to cum but I did swallow a lot of red juice from his cock. I was in Heaven! And Friedrich was about to resume his descent into Hell.
I opened a box of cork screws. I walked to his left side and caressed his huge bicep. I pressed the point of the cork screw against it and pressed. The skin broke and I began to slowly, very slowly, turn it. Friedrich jerked wildly, screaming as the sharp metal ripped slowly through his muscle until the entire three-inch cork screw was embedded in his arm. I had never experienced such sexual arousal. With every turn of the screw, ripping through this massive bicep, hearing Friedrich’s terrified screams, feeling his excruciating pain, my cock grew harder than I could ever imagine, and just as I made the final turn, it erupted, blasting my splooge onto Friedrich’s thigh. I grabbed him around his waist and just kept humping his leg until I finally ran out of juice and slid to the floor, exhausted and oblivious to the screeching and writhing above me.
In time, we both calmed down. When I stood, our eyes met, each aware of his fate. His eyes were wide with terror. Mine were soft and dreamy, as if anticipating a night of love. He was a mass of muscle. I was holding a box of corkscrews. An ideal match.
I moved to his right arm and twisted one into his tricep, very slowly, feeling each layer of tissue being punctured. It was as sensual as sliding a knife into a man’s gut. Unless you’ve done it, you cannot know how incredibly erotic it feels to slice through male skin and tissue with a sharp object.
Next, I twisted one into each shoulder, aiming the steel point right into the joint. Now that really had to fucking hurt. Again, I embraced the unfortunate Friedrich. His pain was immense and I knew it was time to give him morphine. I caressed his body, kissed his face, whispered encouragement into his ear. I pulled his head forward. “Look down, Friedrich. Your dick. It’s still hard. I think it’s getting off on all this pain.” His dick was still rigid and standing tall, so I twisted a screw into his pee hole. Then I gave him a shot of morphine.
I’m sure the morphine did some good because, instead of shrieking as each corkscrew entered his body, he made moaning sounds, the volume and intensity rising and falling depending on my actions. Into his calves. Thighs, both front and back. Butt cheeks. I entered each pectoral from the side, and then chewed vigorously on his tits, consuming each nipple. I squeezed his sac tightly and pierced both balls at once.
I knelt behind him and jammed my fist once more into his expanded butthole. Again, I felt his soft moist colon. But this time, instead of luxuriating its sweet warmth, I tore at it with my fingernails. As tissue began to rip and tear, I felt a flood of warm liquid on my arm. I pulled my bloody arm out. This time, blood wasn’t just seeping from his butt and dribbling down his thighs, it was flowing like a small stream. Time to end it.
Friedrich’s eyes were glassy, his moans low and uneven. I took one final corkscrew and put it to his neck, just below his Adam’s apple and above his sternum, and pressed, twisting, slowly piercing his throat and windpipe. I left it there and stepped back. His body twitched once. Then the gurgling began. Strange guttural sounds. An eruption of blood from his mouth. And then his nose. Blood was draining into his lungs and then spurting out as he instinctively tried to breath. (I remembered Chee-kah’s final moments with the sword in his throat.) A few more gurgles. A few more eruptions. A few more twitches. Then silence. Head drooping loosely to the side, his eyes stared into mine.
Friedrich, the god, the epitome muscular beauty, was dead.
