Fiction: Crossed wires

“So this is your latest project?” Alice asked with interest, gazing at the nervous-looking man standing naked before them.  “I don’t see anything unusual.”
“Turn around boy!” Serena barked.
The man slowly shuffled through a 180 degree turn and Serena pointed to a small scar on the back of his neck.
“That’s the only outward sign.  Not very impressive, I know.  But the real change is inside.  Back against the wall and hands up to the shackles!”
The man unhappily turned back around, stepped back against the wall and raised his hands up to the rings fastened there.
Serena stepped forward and started hooking his steel cuffs onto the rings, securing his hands neatly in place.
“Oh please, Mistress…” he began to mumble, tears rising in his eyes.
Serena briskly hit him across the face and he fell silent.
“I’m sorry about that” she said, glancing at Alice.  “There aren’t that many boys who’ve had the op and they haven’t all adjusted to their new lives yet, so they can get a bit impertinent.  But I don’t want to gag him, or we’ll miss all the fun.”
She completed the arrangements by passing straps around his waist and knees, preventing any significant movement except at his extremeties.  Then she stepped back with satisfaction.
“There” she said, indicating the man’s genitals with the tip of her riding crop.  “That’s the area of interest.”
Alice looked down.  It certainly was.  The penis lay there, pink fleshy and untouched, hanging over a pair of balls that looked full and ready for action without being swollen.  This was most unusual.  She couldn’t remember ever having seen one of her friend’s slaves with such untouched organs before.  Usually they were locked in steel devices, or increasingly these days kept on display in the glass cabinet in Serena’s bedroom, removed for safekeeping from their earlier attachment.  At the very least, they were usually covered in burn or stretch marks as a result of her friend’s little experiments.  In one memorable case, the slave’s penis and tongue had been swapped around (see previous Serena story here), while in another Serena had artfully induced the scrotal sac to grow to almost three feet in length, forcing the unfortunate slave to drag his testicles along the ground as he walked (she loved to put him in boots, blindfold him, spin him around and watch him tread on his own balls).  But these genitals were pristine.
“Goodness, it’s hot in here” Serena murmured slyly and took off her top.
Alice looked with approval at her friend’s newly exposed body, the breasts cupped in a lacy bra.  She felt stirrings of desire, both at the thought of completing Serena’s disrobing later and also at what was certain to be a most unpleasant experience that her friend had planned for the man sweating before them.  She looked again at his penis and noted that it was swelling slightly.  The man was grimacing, and trying desperately to look at the ceiling.
Serena giggled and reached forward.  “Pretty little things” she said happily, and to Alice’s amazement she reached forward and gently stroked the top of the growing pink organ, running the tip of her finger from its base slowly down to the quivering head.  This was extraordinary.  Generally, penises that felt the touch of Serena’s fingers experienced nothing gentle, and indeed often the touch of her fingers was the second-last sensation that they ever felt.
What was still more amazing was the male’s reaction, though.  As Serena stroked, he choked off a shriek of agony, bubbling up through his lips.
“He doesn’t seem to like it very much” Alice observed.
“Yes he does” her friend replied.  “Look.  He’s an excited little boy.”  And indeed, the penis itself seemed to be enjoying the treatment.  It had reached a horizontal position.
Serena licked her fingers, then flicked them in little tickling movements against the underside of the penis.  The man howled almost as soon as she started, then choked off his shrieks as if trying desperately to master the pain.  Serena waited until he seemed to be under control, his jaw firmly clenched and shuddering with the effort.
“Look at me” she said, quietly.
The man made an obvious effort to brace himself and directed his terrified, tear-filled eyes to her cool gaze.  Serena smiled at him, and without looking down she curled her hand around the end of his penis and gave it a soft squeeze.
This seemed to be too much, and the man’s gaze instantly left hers as he threw back his head and screamed once again in agony.
Serena stepped back, leaving him panting in exhaustion.  “Do you want a go?” she asked her friend with a grin.
Alice stepped forward uncertainly. It was a while since she’d touched a penis.  In the early days of her marriage, of course, before the changes to their relationship, she had frequently had contact with David’s organ.  Indeed, even after they had settled into more of an owner and slave dynamic, she had occasionally allowed release.  But she’d gradually got out of the habit, and after she’d make clear to David that she would prefer not to be reminded (she had expressed herself quite forcefully and he seemed to have taken the point) she had almost forgotten that he had anything at all down there beneath his skirt.  In fact, she decided, she really ought to do something about that.  She made a mental note to ask Serena to bring her surgical kit the next time she came around.
Somewhat thrown by the incongruity, she reached forward and gently poked the swollen organ.  The man grunted uncomfortably.  Remembering some of the things David used to like, back in the days when he was allowed pleasure, she placed her finger and thumb lightly in  a ring around the base and softly swayed it back and forth, letting the glans smack gently against the palm of her other hand.  The penis jerked into rigidity and the man’s mouth opened in an involuntary roar of agony.
“Oh you’re so cruel!” Serena remarked playfully, watching her friend play with the straining penis.  “Look how you’re hurting him.  The poor thing.” And she leaned forward closer to the man’s sweating face, watching happily as he tried to control the screams and gasps of pain.
“But why is it hurting him?” Alice asked in puzzlement.  “I mean, I’m not even…” and her voice broke off in pleasurable contemplation of the many, many things she could do if she were trying to hurt him.
“You are activating the nerves in his genitals.” Serena replied.  Every time you stroke his penis, every time he feels a surge of excitement in his balls, tens of thousands of little nerve endings say ‘oh – yes, yes, yes!’ and they fire off signals of excitement to his brain.”
“Up his spinal cord” Alice murmured, remembering the little mark on the back of the man’s neck.
“Up his spinal cord” Serena nodded.  “And the impulses go straight into the pleasure receptors in his brain, where he experiences a lovely sense of warmth, excitement and oncoming release.”
She laughed.
“Unless they get diverted on the way.”
Alice gazed at the man’s juddering head, trying to imagine the little electrical impulses arriving inside.  “Diverted?  I see.  I suppose diverted to – “
“Every nerve in his genitals plugs straight into the part of his brain that deals with pain.” Serena remarked briskly.  “Down there they fire off signals of pleasure, but he feels them as pain.  When he’s not being stimulated, there’s a constant mild discomfort.  But if we give him a little treat – “ and here she fondled the quivering member affectionately, making the man gasp in shock “ – he experiences it as pain.”
“Every pleasurable impulse is like a punishment” Alice mused, fascinated.  “So when we stroke him, he experiences it as if we were kicking him or something.”
“Oh no, it’s much worse than that!” Serena replied sharply. “Before the operation, only a tiny fraction of those nerve endings down there were pain receptors.  Now, in effect, they all are.”
Alice reached forward again and gave the penis a gentle squeeze.  When the shrieks had died away into breathless sobbing she asked “What did that feel like, boy?”
“Like…like…oh you can’t imagine, Miss Alice” the wretched man replied.
“Of course I can’t you idiot.  That’s what I want you to tell me!” Alice snapped, wondering for the millionth time why men found it so hard to obey simple commands.
“It’s…it’s…well it’s like being gripped by a red hot iron – but it’s ice cold as well, Miss.” he stuttered, desperately.  “And spikes digging into the flesh all at the same time.  Burning hot and freezing cold spikes.  And being crushed – like clamps but over every square millimetre of the, of the…” and he broke down weeping.
Serena nodded wisely.  “Heat receptors, cold receptors, pressure and rupture receptors – all leading straight into the pain centres”, she remarked.  “He’s not just experiencing pain, he’s experiencing pain in every feeling and impulse that arrives.”
“So do his pain receptors send signals to pleasure centres?” Alice asked, wondering if he’d actually enjoy a good hard kick in the balls (she didn’t much like the thought of that).
Her friend shook her head firmly.  “They still feed into the pain centre too.  I didn’t swap them around, I spliced them.  There’s nothing going into his pleasure centres from down there now.”
“Could you feed all his nerve endings from his entire body into the pain centres?” Alice asked excitedly.
Serena turned to look at her friend affectionately, thinking how much she loved her.  “We think so much alike!  Yes, I did try that.  But I think the pain just overwhelmed them.  As soon as they woke up after the anaesthetic, one quick shriek and they died.”
“Shame” Alice said.
“Yes” her friend agreed.  “But I gave it a good go.  I tried a dozen times at least and got the same result every time.”
“Still” Alice said happily.  “This is pretty good.”
“Oh, we haven’t got to the best bit yet, have we boy?” Serena replied slyly, reaching forward and grasping the penis in her hand.  She began slowly to squeeze rhythmically, gently moving her hand up and down.
The man choked off a scream by gritting his teeth.  He was obviously trying to say something, but found it impossible to get the words out.
Serena laughed.  “I expect he’s about to beg me to let him come.  Aren’t you boy?”
Driven out of his wits (such as they were) with pain, well beyond any ability to appreciate sarcasm, the man’s head thrashed from side to side in a frantic ‘no’.  But Serena giggled and simply continued the gentle squeezing and pumping motions.
“It’s his first time” she explained.   “He’s been close to the edge, but I haven’t taken him over it yet.  The survival rate isn’t great – one in three or so.  Even when they do survive, they never really recover.  I suppose the pain is just too much, and the brain just tries to disconnect itself from reality.  The survivors are just vegetables.  I use them for spare parts.”
She was varying her movements slightly now, occasionally jerking the penis with little tweaking movements, before returning to steady pumping at a gently increasing tempo, with a firm grip.  The man was now howling desperately in pain and uncontrollable fear.
It had been a while since she had witnessed a male orgasm, Alice thought to herself with interest.  She thought of her own orgasms.  The overwhelming pleasure, the surge of excitement and relief that overwhelmed all other thoughts and feelings, all reality all experience submerged beneath the rush of pleasure.  Imagine all that as pain, she thought as she gazed in wonder into the male’s terrified, pleading eyes.
Suddenly, she realised that she was close to climax herself.  She took hold of Serena’s left hand, and pressed it firmly against herself. Her friend smiled in pleasure, and leant over to kiss her, both hands now stimulating her two companions to further heights of pleasure, and pain. Respectively.
As the two mouths locked together, two tongues urgently exploring one another, Alice felt the onrush of an uncontrollable orgasm, as the horrified yells of terror beside her told her that the man was heading in the same direction.
They came together, as Alice shrieked out – as so many times before – her love for her dear friend.  But her words could not be heard, as in the captive male beside her a hundred thousand nerve endings proclaimed their joy, only to be felt as a hundred thousand agonies.

0 thoughts on “Fiction: Crossed wires”

  1. Yes, she is, isn't she?

    I can't imagine how it is that Serena manages to get her medical licence renewed each year. maybe she intimidates members of the British Medical Association. She certainly scares me witless (I was going to say 'scares me stiff' but somehow that didn't seem appropriate).

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Verified by MonsterInsights