Is Cock and Ball Torture for You?
Don’t ask me why some men like having their naughty bits punished with cock and ball torture (CBT), but they do. And my favourite bottoms are the ones that really, really do.
So picture the scene: I’m at my favourite dungeon on a Saturday night.
In walks a 4B – Beautiful, Buff, Bald, and Black, I call this the 4B’s of Destiny, because he is, destined to play with Me. Then picture him naked. His brains, name or height don’t matter, just enjoy him oiled up and blindfolded.
I check the time, this scene could last two hours and since I didn’t get a nap before starting to play at 11:30 pm, two hours of intense poking, slapping, hitting, pumping, and twisting can wear me out. Then we must be in a space conducive to fluid spillage, arm and leg room to swing and kick, and seating and/or laying options. I like my bottoms to be as comfortable as possible for the pain I inflict.
Nerve endings are beautiful things. The more sensitive the skin area is, the more nerve bundles there are to play with. They register pain and pleasure faster, and when syncopation occurs, the nerves can no longer distinguish pain from pleasure. Just watching the body writhing in reaction to the stimulus of slaps, strokes, or bites can bring the utmost delight.
Since I’m in the mood for stingy vs. thuddy pain tonight, I choose my instruments carefully. Knives are the first course to start my encounter with his skin. I trail the cool flat stainless steel blade slowly, watch the skin and fine hairs prickle in response. Then I dip the tip, creating pools of just enough pressure but not enough to pierce through the skin. Whether I use one blade or two, I create a symmetrical dance undulating across the smooth surface. I put on a pair of my Love Bites Vampire Gloves and lightly touch flesh. His skin is all goose bumps now, and I head to his throbbing cock. He’s uncut, and the extra sensitivity is what will drive him crazy with craving and mad with the intense pleasure. I slowly wrap my hand around the head, pulling the foreskin. He jumps and then leans into the gloves’ grip. He tosses his head back and forth, shaking it violently to clear the flood of chemicals in which he is now drowning. His body has signalled that I have him where I want him. Skin shudders as the nerve endings are sending both pleasure and pain messages to the brain.
A study from Radboud University Nijmegen in the Netherlands shows that men’s cognitive performances were impaired when they were around women. I was shooting for maximum cognitive failure, and the limpness of his arms, the surrendering of his cock to my use, made it clear he was mine to do with as I pleased.
It felt like I raced through the next hour and a half, teasing his flesh, making his body arch and moan. His pool of pre-cum made a sticky mess everywhere. I knew he was aching to cum and each time the tip of a blade crossed the tip of his cock or my gloves gripped his cock hard and stroked, he would spurt a little more pre-cum.
Now he was ready to be mounted. I instructed him to stand, his eyes barely coherent to my instructions, gave him water to drink, and then forced him to his knees facing my “bro” cock. He dined hungrily on it, moaning in pleasure and stroking his own cock.