Twisted promise

So I was looking through a friend's profile, trying to come up with inspiration. And I don't know why, but this one thing jumped out at me. This idea that wasn't quite in the list I was going through, but just made me wonder.

It was a question. A dare that seemed to come out of nowhere. If someone were held in chastity, and then told that they were going to get a blow job "unless you beg me not to," how in the hell could someone possibly prefer to stay in chastity? What would make them beg?

Which led me to the story.

Twisted Promise

          The light glinted off the silver ball, drawing the eye down the little shaft and around the soft curve of the hook. It didn’t look all that intimidating. And the suspension point above it didn’t look scary. The harness on his waist was tight enough to hold him, and only uncomfortable in the sense that he was wearing a harness without any other clothes.

         It shouldn’t have been scary. Nothing about it should have terrified him so much. But he was sweating and shivering at the same time. He reached up and scratched the soft hair of his beard, trying to put a finger on the fear.

         It all came down to what she had said to him before he started stripping. Before the harness, before the hook, before any of it.

         She had promised him a blow job. “I am going to suck your cock,” she said. “I’m going to deep throat it, slurp it all the way in, tongue your balls, and suck you so hard you’ll worry you’re turning inside out. I’m going to make you cum harder than you’ve ever cum before.”

         That hadn’t been the bad part. That part was actually kind of promising. It was the last part. Six words that turned everything on its head.

          “Unless you beg me not to.”

          Why would he do that? What possible reason could he have to beg her NOT to give him a blow job? He’d been in chastity for two straight weeks. Getting off was one of the only things he could even think about for any length of time. He’d do almost anything for a chance to orgasm. So why, and under what possible circumstances, would he beg her not to?

          She had smiled when she said it, too. Not that happy smile that promises pleasure. That sadistic smile that made it very clear that not only would he be willing to beg her not to, he’d be desperate for her not to get him off.

          He had no idea how that was possible. But he knew that she would do it.

          Which is what made the hook so scary. It was part of it, but only a small part. Only the very beginning.

          He hooked the harness to the suspension point, took a deep breath, and tried to relax as he lowered himself onto the hook. The ball at the end of the stainless steel felt a lot bigger than it looked. Almost as if it was expanding while pushing itself inside him. Without the help of gravity, he didn’t think he’d be able to get it in at all. He bit his lip, running the hair of his mustache through his teeth, and took a deep breath, groaning a bit as it finally passed inside him. He did his best to relax against the hook, not to be bothered by the slack between the hook and the suspension point. He wouldn’t be resting his weight on the hook. It would just feel like he was.

          Still, that didn’t explain the fear. That didn’t make him want to beg her to leave him all locked up.

          The whir of the mechanical winch brought him completely clear of the floor. She pulled the slack out of the hook, clipping it tightly to his harness. Still not supporting his weight, but definitely holding him tightly.

          “Hands behind your back,” she said. “Stretched out. Press your palms together.”

          He knew what that meant, and wasn’t surprised when she started lacing the sleeves up his forearm, past his elbows, and towards his shoulders. He grunted in pain as she pulled his arms back further and further. One of these days, his shoulders would just pop out of their sockets. It always felt like they were about to, just as she finished lacing up the binders. He felt like they were going to snap as she strapped buckle after buckle together up and down his arms, even though nothing got any tighter.

          They never dislocated though. The pain soon settled into a dull throb. Sooner or later, that throb would turn to numbness. Then back to pain. But never injury. And still, no need to beg her not to suck him off.

          She stepped around in front of him, her lips curled up in a teasing smile. She kept her eyes locked on his as she put the key into his little lock and pulled the plastic cage off his cock. He was instantly hard, and the stroking of her hand would probably have gotten him off right away, if only she hadn’t been wearing gloves. Those gloves, with the little bits of metal on the palms, metal that felt like it would slice his cock to ribbons if he let her really jerk him off with them.

          He whimpered, and she smiled a bit wider. She let him go, ran her hands gently over his chest, then used the spikes on her palms to comb out his beard a little bit.

          “I want to gag you,” she said. “I want to put a nice red rubber ball right there between your teeth. Something that makes your jaw stay open, that makes it feel like it might pop. Something to remind you that I control everything, even when you speak.” Then she sighed. “But if I do that, how will you beg me?”

          He opened his mouth to answer, but her glare stopped any sound from forming.

          She kept her eyes on his and reached down again. He felt the leather of her gloves wrap around him, just below the shaft, pulling his balls away from his body just a little bit. Not enough to be painful. Just enough for them to be separate. Then she clipped something together and pulled her hand away. They were still separate, still held apart from his body.

          She bent down and hooked something to him. It felt like she was pulling his balls down. Then another hook, and the pull increased.

          “That’s just a pound,” she said. She flicked, and he felt the weights move. “Well, a pound each. I might go as high as five someday, but I really don’t know what that will do to you. So let’s stay with what we have, shall we?”

          “Yes mistress,” he said, clenching his teeth from the pain. It hurts, but nowhere near enough to make him even consider begging her not to suck his cock.

          She ran her hand up and down his shaft, the needle like spikes a gentle reminder that she could utterly ruin him, that she could tear the skin from his shaft if she wanted to. Was that it? Rip off the skin and then threaten to suck him off anyway? No. She’d never do that. Disgusting for her, dangerous for him.

          “Have you figured it out yet?” she asked, her voice coy and with a hint of laughter. She put her hand to his chin, running her fingers through his beard and catching as much of the hair on the glove spikes as she could. She squeezed, and he felt each individual tooth of the vamp gloves as she did. It almost felt like his jaw was going to split open. “You must have thought about it. You’re a smart boy.”

          Her knee came up and slammed into his crotch, lifting the weight away for half a second before it came crashing back down. He tried to curl up against the pain, but there was nowhere to go. She forced him to keep looking at her even when his eyes went out of focus, even when they crossed from the pain of the second hit.

          As the three versions of her coalesced back into one, he saw that she was laughing at him. He groaned in pain.

          “How conductive do you think you are?” she asked. “If I put a nice little charge on that hook, do you think it will go all the way through your body? Would it make my tongue tingle?”

          She pulled on the hook, and he grunted as it moved against his prostate. “I could just press a stun gun to it,” she said. “Shock you from the inside out. That might be fun.”

          Then she took a few steps around until she was facing him again. “Or I could tell you that whatever I do for you, you’re going to have to do for someone else. Would that make you beg me? Is that what I had in mind?”

          She smirked again. “Maybe I was planning on making you suck ten cocks for every time I sucked yours. But that wouldn’t discourage you, would it? You’d still think it was worth it.”

          He didn’t dare contradict her. She wasn’t really asking, anyway.

          “Maybe I should go ahead and do it, just let my hand guide me up and down, right under my lips. A nice, tight squeeze.” She grabs his face again, and the squeeze of the little barbs into his skin gives him a pretty good idea of what would happen to his poor cock if she did that. But then he’d be bleeding. No; empty threat.

          “I’d make you swallow every drop of cum,” she said. “I mean, that’s a given, right? I’d spit it right into your mouth.”

          She squeezed his jaw harder, forcing his mouth open. Then she spat right down his throat. She laughed. “Just like that,” she said. “Only with your cum.”

          Her knee gently tapped the weights hanging from his balls, reigniting the ache.

          “How much cum do you think there will be?” she asked. “It’s been two weeks. That has to be a lot. Right? And you wouldn’t cum without my permission. Oh, the things I would do to you if you came without asking first.” She shook her head and looked at him with almost an apology in her eyes. “I’d have to lock you up for at least six months,” she said. “Until I knew you’d learned your lesson.”

          Still not enough for him to beg her not to do it. Even that threat, even the worry he had about losing control, nothing was enough. Nothing could be enough.

          “I could video tape it. It could be like a video Christmas card for your family.”

          Empty threat.

          “Or I could put a nice bit of metal in the tip.” She flicked at the top of his cock, pinched the head a bit until his eyes watered. “Something nice and long. Put it in before you get too hard. Then, when you do,” she bit her lip and raised her eyebrows at him.

          “Oh, just imagine.”

          He groaned as she started working the steel in through his urethra, pushing it slowly in. Every time he started to get hard, she’d slap his balls until he went soft again, until he was whimpering in pain.

          Soon it was all the way in, and he wasn’t hard. She ran the back of her hand, the soft leather, against his shaft. He started to get turned on, and then his eyes opened wide at the pain.

          “The metal won’t move,” she said. “Your cock might, but the metal won’t.”

          He took sharp breaths, trying to calm down, and finally managed to stop the erection that felt like it was going to tear him apart.

          “So it’s up to you,” she said, her eyes full of evil. “Personally, I’d rather give you a nice blow job. A good long suck on your cock. Get you hard, make you cum.” He whimpered.

          “But I suppose, if you’d prefer, I could just hook up the little metal sound to my Tens unit. I could send a nice soft charge through your cock, maybe another through your ass, and let you be a bit of a battery for me. Let you feel the electric hum of my control.”

          She shrugged.

          “It’s not my preference,” she said. “I’d rather get you off. It has been so long, I know. But it really is up to you.

          “So choose. Beg me not to suck your cock.

          “Or I will.”