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personal experience.  Copyright: This story is copyright 1995 by
the author, Doc Masterson, under the U.S. Copyright Convention
and the Bourne Conventions.  All rights, including: the right to
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Hollywood Hostage
by
Doc Masterson

CHAPTER FIVE
     I had slaved all day.  The workout had been followed by my
'normal' clean-up chores at Trixi's and Breta's living quarters. 
They both seemed to have an unsatiable need for sex which I had
to give with my mouth and tongue.  The days were as long and hard
as my dick, but I was not getting any action.
     I had been told to stand my naked body in the corner and
await my next order.  The pair seemed fully engrossed in the TV
show they were watching and I considered a run for it.  One quick
glance at the end tables, changed my mind.  Breta had one of
those tazer guns that shoots a mass of darts into your body.  The
gun then delivers a high voltage charge that is said to be very
painful.  I had experienced enough pain, I would just wait for a
better opportunity.
     "Get me a beer from the frig," Breta demanded without
specifying who should complete the task.
     "Yes, mistress," I said making the obvious assumption.
     "I'll take one too," Trixi said without looking up from the
show.
     "Yes, mistress."
     I knew the kitchen didn't offer any escape opportunities so
I took my time getting the drinks and appropriate chilled glasses
for my mistresses.  I really don't know why I added the chilled
glasses to the order, but it seemed appropriate.  I put the
glasses and bottles on a tray and carried them to the den.
     "That's a nice touch, Rick," Breta said picking up the
chilled glass.
     "Yes, mistress."
     "I think he is trying to make some brownie points so we
won't punish him when he takes his next fall from grace," Trixi
said with the kind of abrasive tone I had come to expect.
     "If you don't like it, I'll just take it back to the
kitchen," I said showing my flash point anger.
     "Okay, that means punishment," Breta snapped grabbing the
tazer gun.
     "No, please.  I take it all back," I said trying to put the
genie back in the bottle.
     It was no use.  Breta fired the tazer at my naked body and
more than twenty of its electrode-darts penetrated my skin.  The
penetration pain was followed immediately by a jolt of voltage I
would have guessed to be 100,000 volts or more.  It took me down
and before I knew it both were standing over me.
     "You are going to have to spend some time in our rack for
this.  You were told not to speak out of turn," Breta said.
     "Yes, mistress, but... "
     As soon as I used the word 'but' I knew it was wrong and the
voltage again was turned on.  I convulsed on the floor.  The pain
was horrid and I did not know what to do.  I understood the darts
needed a special tool to be removed or there would be skin
damage.  I also knew that there were simply too many to get them
off before another shot of voltage was sent down the remaining
wires.
     The two lead me to what I called the torture chamber. (They
called it the pain reinforcement therapy chamber.)  I tried once
to get away, but the tazer quickly brought me to the floor.  Once
inside the room, they pointed to the device they intended to use. 
There were more than thirty different devices standing and
waiting for my body.  Just being present in this room for the
first time gave me a new appreciation of what I might have in
store for their training.
     I had to lie on my stomach on the table like device.  My
midsection appeared exposed from below.  They locked one wrist
and one ankle into the machine before they removed the tazer
darts.  After the last dart had been removed the remaining arms
and legs were tied to the device.  I was spread eagled much like
I envisioned the errant slaves were in medieval times.  My only
surprise was that they did not seem to stretch my limbs to their
maximums.
     The reason would soon become apparent.  Trixi and Breta took
different sides of my body to work on.  Trixi took my back as it
lay facing up on the table.  Breta took my front sides as they
lay largely flat on the rack's table like base.
     Trixi first strapped a belt around my waist.  It was
obviously part of the rack and I could feel my upper body being
drawn tight to the upper part of the rack.  Next she attached
similar straps to my thighs very near my crotch.  The new straps
made my arms and legs feel more of the stretching tension I would
have expected from a device called 'the rack'.
     The next thing Trixi did hurt.  She attached a butt plug
device to the flat surface of the table.  Before she made it firm
with the table she inserted about six inches of its length into
my ass.  It felt like it was almost two inches wide at the end
that finally rested against the opening of my butt hole.
     "Ouch, that really hurts," I said trying to protest what I
thought was a real indignity.
     "It is supposed to hurt but you are supposed to take it in
silence," Trixi said in exasperation.
     "Put the ball gag in his mouth.  We don't have to listen to
this tonight."
     Trixi finished tightening the plug to the table so that it
was firmly up my ass.  She then got a ball gag and pushed it
roughly into my mouth.  I was surprised at the size of the ball. 
It was almost four inches across and as hard as a handball.  She
seemed to enjoy pushing it in past my teeth.  My jaw naturally
closed a bit holding the gag in place temporarily as she buckled
its strap in the back of my head.  It was in tight and I could
not speak or whimper again.
     All during this cycle Breta was working on me from under the
table.  She first attached a pair of rings to my balls neatly
separating them from one another.  She locked each ring to a
chain and attached it to the corners of the table.  She worked
hard to make the tension extremely unpleasant.  My balls were
being racked just like my arms and legs.
     For my sex stalk she had a set of eight rings all attached
together by a leather strap.  The rings were quite small and she
took a good deal of time working them over and down my dick.  The
rings seemed to restrict the exiting flow of blood from my dick
and made it swell.  Damn, I was hard.  Using the leather strap
and some chain, she completed the racking of my personal parts. 
My love probe was tied to the two front legs of the rack.
     "We fashioned this device after one we saw in one of the
James Bond movies," Breta said.
     "I'll bet you can just guess is going to come next," Trixi
added.
     I had seen the movie, of course, most everybody has.  Mr.
Bond was, however, not in as much trouble as I was.  He did not
have a ramming butt plug up his ass or his cock and balls tied to
the posts of the rack.  I tried to scream for them to stop.  I
knew they were ready to turn on some sort of motor device.  It
was no use.  I could not speak and they were not going to listen
anyway.
     The device started with a deliberate sounding hum.  The
straps that were around my waist and legs were connected to the
moveable part of the device controlled by the motor.  The device
wanted to stretch my upper body by pulling my lower body toward
my feet.  The straps and motor did their job.  I could feel my
arms being drawn tight and there was sharp pain in my joints.
     The device worked above and below.  As my arms were being
stretched, so was my love bone.  It seemed like the extra inches
of length being required should not have hurt so much, but they
did.  The motion seemed to move to the fully stretched point and
hold there forever.  I screamed an enraged scream into the hard
ball gag.
     Trixi and Breta seemed unimpressed and watched with a
clinical eye.  They had obviously put other men in the device
before and my screams of pain were expected.  They seemed to be
enjoying my discomfort more than a little, but I could not act
out a scene without pain.
     The cycle soon ebbed.  I could feel my midsection being
pulled up to release the pressure on my arms and love rod.  The
motion seemed like an old slow motion movie and that made the
pain linger.  Before it was fully ending in my upper body it was
beginning in my lower body.  My knee and hip joints were being
pulled apart like the two sides of a chicken's pulley bone.  They
were being stretched and the pain volume was being turned up
rapidly.
     The rings on my balls were also doing their intended job. 
It was as if someone were trying to remove each ball separately. 
There was a dividing and extracting motion that again made me
scream uncontrollably into my gag.  It seemed like the next
microscopic movement of the racks powerful motor would rip my
jewels from their sack.
     The worse pain was coming from my ass.  My body was being
pulled toward the hilt of the plug in my ass.  It was firmly
mounted to the table and would not move as my body advanced on
its hard rubber surface.  I could do nothing but accept more of
the device up my ass. There, however, was a problem.  The probe
was conical in shape and as it was inserted in my ass, it became
bigger around.  I would have to accept something wider and wider
with each fucking blow.
     "He's set for the night," Breta finally said after they had
watched one complete cycle of the device.
     "I am afraid we've got him in there a little too tightly,"
Trixi said in a voice that was half a question and half a
statement.
     "I don't think so," Breta said in a voice that was not
really too self-assured.
     "You know when it gets into the faster cycles it could do
some damage."
     "He's built pretty well.  I think he can handle a little
more than most."
     "Well, he is certainly going to get a little more than the
others we've put on it."
     "Don't worry, he can scream his heart out and that gag will
keep the sound level down.  I'm not worried about being
awakened."
     "You're the boss."
     For the next hour the cycle continued in a similar pattern
unabated.  First my upper body would be stretched then my lower
body would be stretched.  The cycle, however, got harder to take. 
My body lost its ability to jump back after each stretching
assault on the various body parts.
     At first, I would just not notice that the machine had
started in the other direction.  The stretching would stop, but
the pain would not.  The lower body stretch cycle would almost
reach its maximum stretch point before the pain in my dick and
arms would abate.  Conversely my asshole seemed still stretched
to the maximum point as my arms reach the nearly disjointed
position.
     Suddenly there a change in the pattern of action.  The
machine started in high gear.  My body was first being pulled
upward, then downward.  It seemed to have a mind of its own and
my body was paying the price.  I was actually afraid I was going
to be ripped apart.  I remembered Breta's statement that my body
could take it but, I didn't trust her judgment.
     With the new pulse like motion came a new problem. My dick
thought it was being milked.  The rings were tugging on the
surface of the skin and the hard pressure I had managed for my
dick kept the rings in place.  I felt on the verge of a massive
climax.  I could feel it coming, but the terrible pain made its
progress seem slow and agonizing.
     My balls seemed full of cum, but they were in danger of
being ripped from my body.  The constant rapid fire tugging of
the rings on my balls was like the consistent folding of a
newspaper sheet.  I could feel the flesh weaken with each
excruciating pull.  The skin could not last much longer.  My nuts
would soon be spilling all over the floor.
     My butt was on fire.  I was being fucked with such fury that
the mere friction created a warm burning sensation.  The rubber
butt plug was heating from its friction with my asshole.  My hole
was giving in to the constant thrusting force of the plug.  The
tapered divide was slowly going deeper and deeper inside my body. 
I could feel my prostate being crushed.  My hole was becoming a
cavern open to a humiliating and violating pain I had never felt
before.
     My arms and legs were trying to put up a defense.  I could
tell that the stretching motion would soon dislocate a joint or
tear a muscle.  I had had both in football and I knew what to
expect.  My body was putting up a sort of involuntary defense. 
Each cycle of the machine was being met with a bit of muscle
resistance.  It was just enough to keep the joints in place.  The
result, however, was a serious muscle burn in my upper arms and
thighs.
     The pain had to have its rewards.  I had never been in such
pain, but I had never had such a torrent of sexual verve welling
inside.  I was near the biggest climax of my life.  I would shoot
cum with such force it would blow the walls down.  It was just
seconds away, I knew it was.  Seconds.  Seconds.
     The machine suddenly stopped all aggressive motion.  My body
was still tightly stretched, but there was no new forces trying
to raise my level of pain.  It didn't do any good, the pain
seemed to increase.  There was just too big a reservoir of
suffering there for the pain to decrease or even stay the same. 
It felt like everything from my skin inward had been stretched
and pulled to its absolute maximum length.
     My fuck meat was still at first then there was a protest. 
The climax was so near.  It could not be denied.  I had to feel
the release of a thick milky stream of cum shooting across the
room.  I had to.  My dick began to throb.  It was more than a
throb really, but nothing happened.  My mind burned with the lost
climax and my penis started to ejaculate.  It was no use.  The
well was dry.  I could not make my love baton pump the load of
cum that was there waiting for just the next edge of pain to be
released.
     I imagined I could hear the ticking of an old time
grandfather clock.  The seconds seemed to pass so slowly.  With
each passing second my dick moved farther away from its needed
release.  Soon it was but a memory.  The load was still present,
but the nearness to ecstasy was gone.  The pain in the rest of my
body had gone too, but I was not sure it was worth it.  I wanted
to shoot before the machine took its vacation.
     Suddenly there was hope.  Or was it despair.  I was having
trouble telling them apart.  The machine again started its slow
cycle of torture to my body.  I could feel my need for sexual
gratification again start to rise.  It seemed to almost start
from the previous high but the climax seemed far away.
     My climax would get closer, but it would take hours of pain. 
There would never be a climax.  I somehow knew this would be the
case, but I could not accept it without actually experiencing the
failure.  The machine seemed to know exactly how much my body
could take and, how near I was to shooting my wad.  It would stop
its cycle.  I would cook a while, then it would start again.  It
was a horrible night.

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