Just a practice drawing…trying to get the hang of my tablet. Here are Bad Lieutenant’s Fire and Frost again.
Here’s another installment based on The Bad Lieutenant’s “Slaver Sorority” featuring his original characters, Teens Fire and Frost. Oh the predicaments these ladies get into! In the story the evil sorority puts the heroes through a series of trials based on the elements of earth, water, air and fire. This is my take on trial by earth. And before anyone asks, I know this says part 4 and you may be wondering where part 3 is! The answer is: still on the drawing board. Sometimes my drawings fight me so I decided to leave #3 alone for a bit and just progress on to the next part. Hopefully I’ll return to it and finish soon. In the meantime, enjoy the story even if it is out of sequence.
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This was originally intended for C.A.B.’s Oktoberfetish but I couldn’t get it done by Halloween but I’ll just assume better late than never. Poe’s story, “The Cask of Amontillado” is one of my favorites of his as the theme of being buried alive is an absolutely terrifying one. I just revamped it with a bit of a fetish twist. If you haven’t read the original, I encourage you- do. It proves that true terror resides in the mind…of both the victim and the perpetrator. In the interim, enjoy!
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A bit of Halloween fun suggested and inspired by my friend Swan.
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A more full scale version of the illustration for the following story- “The Pledges of Delta Omega Mu.
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(This is my first foray into actually writing a story. Hope you like it and, while I shouldn’t really have to say this: all characters are presented as over 18 and this is a work of fiction and fantasy. These are not real people and if you cannot tell the difference, please get yourself to the nearest shrink. Any connection to anybody living, dead or zombified is purely coincidental. Finally, nobody should be idiotic enough to really try this! That’s why it’s called “fantasy.” There. That should be clear enough!)
The Pledges of Delta Omega Mu
As they were led into one of the rooms the boy in front of Brandon- Elliot, she had called him- squealed into his own gag and sagged against his two captors. Amid much giggling the boy was shored up and more or less dragged towards his fate. “Oh buck up, Elliot sweety,” the girl on his right said. “You did so well the last time, this time around ought to be a snap!” Her flippant comment was greeted by hoots of laughter from both the girls escorting the two captives as well as from some inside the room. Once in the room, Brandon saw a heavy duty medical gurney festooned with numerous straps. At one end of it was a TV monitor and it was to this that the girls propelled the whimpering Elliot. Brandon was steered to one side of the room, his ankle chain clipped to a ring set in the floor. “We’ll just stay right over here out of the way for the moment, honey, while they get your little friend all set up.” Heather said. “Friend” was, of course, a bit much as Brandon had only met Elliot a few hours ago when he awoke from his drugged stupor, bound and naked in what he assumed was the basement of the DWM house. His captors had introduced him to the similarly bound young man who looked to be about his own age as the boy was brought out of another room looking haggard and desperate. “Oh you’re awake! Excellent!” The one he would later be introduced to as Heather said. “Elliot, meet your new playmate Brandon. See I told you you wouldn’t have to go through all of this alone. Brandon will be the other half of your pledge class this year and the two of you will be getting so…um…close!” Again the ominous laughter. Elliot had only whimpered into his tight gag, wide brown eyes barely registering Brandon’s presence as he was sat on a stool in the room’s corner. “We need to get dear Brandon ready for his adventures,” another explained, as Brandon was hung by his wrists, ankles connected to short chains to the floor and stretched spread eagle. “MMFFF!!!” He had protested, confused and frightened into his gag. “Oh hush, baby. We just need to shave you clean before your hazing begins. We need to have unhindered access to all that lovely, vulnerable skin! Now hold still.” So Brandon hung there, watched by the lovely sisters of DWM and the other helplessly bound pledge as they carefully, painstakingly removed every bit of hair from his body, save for that on the top of his head. As he had hung there, barely daring to breathe as the girls wielded sharp straight razors around his most sensitive parts, Brandon wasn’t sure if he’d die from fear or abject humiliation. When they even shaved the cleft between his ass cheeks he let out an involuntary, if muffled, whimper. “Awwww! That’s so cute! You’re adorable baby and that’s going to make this all so much fun…for us anyway!” She patted his trembling butt and proceeded to explain that DWM had a long and rather dark history. The exclusive sorority had turned out in its long history some of the preeminent female leaders in the world. If they had a reputation for being demanding and ruthless behavior it had certainly been shaped by the sadistic (some even said satanic) activities that started here. “As part of our training, every year we select a “pledge class” of freshmen men to torment and tease for the duration of the year. It teaches our new girls excellent skills in control and domination…skills they will use in the world of politics and business as well as in their more private lives!” It was, they assured their captives, and wonderfully educational! For both Brandon and Elliot, the implications were horrifying. Did they truly mean that they would spend the rest of the school year locked in these rooms enduring God only knew what sort of tortures? Both the boys were only freshmen, of course, but surely they would be missed when they never showed up for classes! This had to be a prank…some sort of bizarre hazing ritual… The shaving had taken about an hour, although Brandon had no sense of time down there. When he was finally let down, he had been trussed up in the arm binder, knee and ankle cuffs and the painfully bizarre testicle restraint. An uncomfortably high posture collar was added, forcing their chins up. They had then been seated, back to back, on two hard wooden chairs, their collars and ankles clipped to their seats, and left alone in the room. “We’ll be back in a little while, babies. We have a few things to set up so you two just get to know each other!” Immediately after they left the room, Elliot began struggling in his bonds, grunting beneath his gag. It’s no use, buddy, Brandon thought. I can barely move and I’m sure you’re tied the same way. Save your strength and we’ll make a break for it when a real opportunity presents itself. Of course Brandon was still relatively new to the situation and was still blissfully unaware of the magnitude of the horror they were in. Elliot, on the other hand, had been in DWM’s clutches for a week now and knew all too well. Not that either made any headway towards escape.
Now as Brandon watched, the struggling Elliot was placed face first on the gurney and the girls began strapping him in. His posture collar fitted into a curved metal bracket at one end of the table and clicked into place, forcing the helpless boy to look forward, chin raised. Heavy leather straps were wrapped around ankles, calves, knees and thighs before addition straps were passed over these, securing the boy extremely tightly to the gurney. More straps went over the arm binder and secured his torso. Even Elliot’s insteps and big toes were strapped together, an additional thin strap going from his toes to the end of the table, forcing his feet into an uncomfortable en pointe position. Elliot squirmed more than a little frantically nonetheless. While all this was going on, Heather and Brandon’s other attendant, a younger red head named Samantha stood beside him holding his upper arms. Heather rested a hand possessively on his bare buttocks. “Our little Elliot’s nice and snug isn’t he baby? But wait till you see what we have in store for him once we’ve got him all nicely strapped in!” Samantha snickered at Heather’s nonchalant tone. Then Heather, obviously the leader here in the DWM house, moved in front of Brandon and looked deeply into his eyes. “Now let me help you get something straight here my boy. I know that you’re thinking, rather desperately I imagine, of ways to get out of this. There are none. Trust me. DWM has been doing this for almost a hundred years so don’t think you’re the first to entertain such vain hopes. We are very, very good- or is it bad?…” She smiled at him wickedly. “…at what we do and I promise you’ll receive every benefit of our full and excruciating attentions!” “MMFF!!!” She placed a finger on his muzzle. “Shhh. Shhh. Save your energy. No one here cares about your little complaints and no one outside will ever hear them. There’s one more thing you ought to know, however, my dear. You are going to be spending a long year down here with us. It will be most taxing on you and your little buddy there but I guarantee you will survive it…even if you’d rather you didn’t. We plan to push you to the very limits of tolerance and hold you there desperate and suffering for us, continuously.” Brandon shivered, whimpering pitifully. Heather was delighted with his reaction. “One more thing, honey. I know you’re also hoping against hope that someone will notice that you’re missing and start a search. Let me ease your mind a bit. First of all, we select our pledges very carefully: orphans and loners with few if any connections are our invariable recruits. The admissions director here is a DWM sister and she does wonders in keeping us supplied. You didn’t think you really earned that generous scholarship, did you?” Her grin was wolfish and Bandon had a horrible, sinking feeling in his gut. She patted his butt again. “No. We scouted both of you boys out well ahead of time. We got poor little Elliot first and planned to get you at the same time when someone noticed you seemed to be emailing a friend. It took us a little while to track down that this was just some random acquaintance you met in a chat room…no addresses exchanged or even full names. Nobody to miss our little Brandon here.” The bound boy whimpered. He knew she was right. Other than some on-line gaming buddies there really was no one who would miss him, at least not for long. Not the foster home he left with barely a goodbye. None of his high school friends with whom he barely communicated when they lived in the same town. At eighteen, he was savoring taking life on his own terms, free of any encumbrances. Brandon’s proudly cultivated independence was about to be something he profoundly regretted. Heather continued outlining his fate. “I see we’re beginning to understand, aren’t we? As for the university, I’m afraid you’ll just become part of the ‘melt.’ That’s an admissions term for new students who fail to show up or quit before classes really get under way. With over 20,000 students, the school expects a few dozen to just melt away. After a couple of weeks it will be like you and Elliot were never here. Of course we took the liberty of cleaning out your rooms so folks will just assume you packed up and left…and indeed you have!” Samantha giggled. “Our sisters in the administration will bury any records of you so deep they will never be found. So put that hope out of your mind my boy. There will be no APB. No police search. No one to even wonder where you’ve gone. Why eventually, when you don’t vote or renew your driver’s license or file a W2 you will simply vanish for all intents and purposes.” His wide, panicked eyes didn’t even blink. It couldn’t be true! This couldn’t be happening! He squirmed a bit more against his restraints. Yet he knew that every word she spoke was horribly true. “MMFFPHN!!!” “See? I knew you’d be excited about all this!” Their attention was distracted by the high pitched muffled wail that came from the other boy bound to the gurney. Brandon saw Elliot struggling fiercely, if uselessly, as the girls began filling two enormous- a gallon each at least- tanks. In one they were pouring a thick, viscous amber substance. In the other was a similarly thick, milky white fluid. In addition to the white fluid, another girls was adding a gallon jug of some clear liquid as well as several scoops a bluish powder. Seeing this, Elliot was bucking frantically and protesting noisily despite the huge gag. “Poor dear,” Heather commented absently to Brandon. “I’m afraid your friend knows all to well what’s waiting for him. You see, this is the second time he has endured this form of ‘perking,’ but of course it certainly won’t be his last. We had planned to start you both together as I said but since we couldn’t we set our poor boy up just like this a few days ago and let him have a day or two to, you know, test things out! Sadly, he didn’t do as well as we had hoped so we all decided to give Elliot here a second chance and, as you can plainly see, he’s delighted!” Plainly, he was anything but! Soon the two tanks were filled and chains were lowered from the ceiling and attached. With the hum of small electrical motors the giant receptacles were raised up and hung above Elliot, one just over his head, the other over his bare and clenching ass. Large gage hoses hung down from each. Then in absolute horror Brandon watched as they affixed the free end of one to Elliot’s gag and the other to a huge inflatable anal plug, its end shimmering with lubricant. Then, to the accompaniment of his squeals and groans, the plug was driven inexorably between his cheeks and his rectum was soon stuffed and plugged…and connected to the nightmarish tank dangling above! Brandon’s knees went weak and he slumped against Samantha. “They’re almost finished getting Elliot ready” the pretty redhead cooed encouragingly, directing his attention to the last of their preparations. Brandon had not noticed the hole in the middle of the gurney but now he saw that the other boy’s cock and testicles had been drawn through an opening obviously for that purpose. His balls had been ringed in a series of chrome circlets and stretched below him. Alligator clips attached to leads were affixed to this apparatus. Elliot squirmed a bit more at this attention to his delicate member. Brandon couldn’t help but noticed the other’s engorged state and was horrified to find himself responding…a fact that Heather noticed as well. “See? I don’t think you’re as unhappy about all this as you pretend, do you Sam?” The slim redhead reached over and rolled his hardening cock between cool fingertips. Brandon gasped. “Not at all, Heather. Not at all!” Meanwhile Elliot’s attendants had placed an 8 x 8 metal plate beneath his cock so that it rested on the gurney’s bottom shelf only a couple of inches from its tip. Finally they added eye clamps forcing their unhappy captive to look at the monitor in front of his face. “All set!” a dark haired beauty exclaimed, slapping the trembling subject on his plugged ass. “Let’s just finish plugging in these leads and we’ll leave you to it!” Elliot moaned behind his strict gag piece. Samantha noted her charge’s puzzled expression and explained his compatriot’s situation. “It’s a bit of a game, see? We want to see if Elliot can control himself and, sadly, last time he didn’t do too well so he gets another go ‘round. All little Elliot has to do is keep from dripping on that plate below his cock. No pee. No cum. Not even any pre-cum. He just has to hold it all in until the deadline. Of course if he can’t hold it in, well, any liquid contact triggers a pretty painful electric shock to his poor little balls. Worse, each time the shock is triggered that big ol’ tank above his butt will open up and let a ½ pint or so flow into his bowels. Of course with that plug that nasty stuff can’t flow back out so our poor boy just keeps getting more and more full!” Brandon stared horrified at the writhing figure on the table. The hoses to which he was connected so horribly intimately swayed ever so gently. The sadistic inventiveness of his captors was dawning on him. Samantha continued. “His feeding tank is set for a very slow but continuous drip, keeping the pressure up, as it were, and providing him with plenty of nutrients. Oh, and the tank also has a strong dose of amphetamine to keep our boy from dozing off or passing out as well as way too much of a potent diuretic and an equine laxative. We didn’t want to make it too easy on our guy so pretty soon, when that diuretic kicks in on top of all the other fluids he’s really going to have his work cut out for him!” The two laughed and Brandon could see why poor Elliot had been so desperate. Having already endured this treatment once, to face it all over again must have been sheer agony! “The monitor in front of him doesn’t help much either,” Heather observed. “Randy little boy that he is, we’ll run some non-stop porn, including some video from his own and other pledge’s times here to keep him concentrating! Then again, randy is how he’ll stay; we’ll be keeping he both of you well dosed with massive amounts of both Viagra and Cialis, as well as several other sexual stimulants. We’ve already put a good dose in his feeding vat and the truth is you both can expect to stay hard and terribly frustrated for s very long time to come!” Again Brandon whimpered. “So I think we can safely say that it is unlikely our dear Elliot will last the entire 24 hours without spilling something!” This last she had said loud enough for Elliot to hear, especially the time factor, and was rewarded with his frantic wail. “Now of course you Brandon,” again she looked into his wide blue eyes. “…I’m sure you will hold out longer for me, won’t you?” It was then that he saw them bringing in a second gurney and two more of the enormous tanks. “NNN!!!MMFFFFRMNF!!!” They unhooked his ankle chain and moved him towards his own excursion into hell. “We’re going to make a little contest of this Brandon, dear. We’ll rig the two of you up the same and see who, at the end of 24 hours has taken the most yummy enema solution up the kazoo! The winner will get to be u strapped and have a delightful little rest. The loser, alas , will stay strapped down, plugged and filled for another 24 hours! How’s that for incentive?” There was general laughter and soon Brandon too was snugly secured, squealing as the large anal plug was driven home and pumped up full. They had positioned the gurney’s so that each boy’s head was roughly even with the other’s ass, facing his feet and enabling them to see each time the other lost control. Elliot’s body was already trembling, his unbound toes curling frantically. As they were filling the containers, Heather revealed still another horror. “That enema fluid is mostly a heated ginger oil, my dear. The ginger makes it burn and itch something awful while the oil adds to the recipient‘s desperate urge to go as well as a feeling of weight and fullness. I wouldn’t want a teaspoon of that stuff in my guts, much less more than a gallon so I’d try really, really hard if I were you to maintain control!” He struggled against the firm bonds but, as promised, his tormentors were very, very good and his straps were so tight he could barely breathe, much less move. The dark haired girl showed him the plate and its leads before moving out of sight beneath him but he jumped when she tapped the underside of his swollen cockhead with a finger and jokingly encouraged him to “not spill a drop!” The feeding tube was finally attached and a slow drip of the foul tasting stuff began filling his mouth. “I know you don’t want to, my dear, but you had best swallow it down or you’ll drown…besides, we could use a stomach tube on you and completely bypass what little control you’ve got so take what you get my dear and use it wisely!” She pinched his butt as he swallowed his first of many mouthfuls. The last touch was the eye clamps, a hideously uncomfortable procedure and a condition of discomfort that would get no better in the next few days. “Ooh. I know that doesn’t feel good but if you stopped watching your…um…inspiration, where would the challenge be? Besides,” Samantha whispered into his ear, “someone will be down here to check on you two regularly and one of our nursing sisters will make sure you don’t die or pass out. We don’t want our little darlings to miss one second of what’s coming to them!” With that the monitor in front of him flickered to life. The scene was of a well endowed young man bent into a bow with his elbows impossibly tied to his ankles, forearms along his calves, gagged and dangling from the ceiling. The women, all of them breathtaking, were attending to his reddened cock in unspeakable ways and he was squealing desperately. Brandon couldn’t help but note the home video nature of the scene and the date stamp in the corner of the screen. Three years ago. “My freshman year,” It was Heather again, crouched down alongside him and watching the video. “See? That’s me on the left and that’s Geoffrey, my very first pledge in the middle. Oh what you have to look forward to!” Her voice turned serious as she leaned closer. “Some last bits of information before I leave you to deal with the first of many, many adventures. “ She ruffled his hair. “Though you’ll get to know all the girls here in time, Samantha will be your pledge trainer and the two of you will develop a special bond. She’s a freshman, like you, but a legacy being that her mother and grandmother are both DWM. She is well versed in our lore and customs so she gets the honor of training one of our special pledges. More to the point at the end of the year she will be the one who determines your fate. Awww… you didn’t think we’d be letting you go, did you? Hardly!” Brandon wiggled unconsciously against his restraints. “MMFF!!” She patted his rear. “Oh Brandon my boy. You’ve seen us all! We could hardly trust you not to tell someone, now could we? No. I’m afraid after you and Elliot have helped serve this year’s DWM sisters, dear little Samantha will decide where you go. I gifted my own dear Geoffrey to a sister who runs a major corporation headquartered in Berlin. I hope to go to work for her after I graduate but dear Geoffrey is keeping her uncomfortably amused in her wickedly equipped fetish lab. She sends me pictures from time to time! Who knows, you might even end up hopelessly bound in the hands of one of our sisters in Asia…they are widely thought to be some of our cruelest and I know Samantha has always wanted to see that part of the world.” Brandon went frantic, twisting and uselessly fighting his bonds. This couldn’t be happening! His mind screamed. “NMRRMFF!!!!” Heather giggled. “Oh hush, sweety and just concentrate on getting through this challenge. You’ve got at least four years here with us before we send you on to your ultimate fate and that will be more than taxing enough without having to stress about…well…future stress!” A tear trickled from Brandon’s wide open eyes. “All right gentlemen,” Heather called out loud, quieting the murmuring of the girls in the room. “The clock has started. You two have 48 hours to control yourselves. The winner is the one who takes in the least of that yummy enema solution so good luck. You are really going to need it. The crowd of lovely ladies laughed at loud at the muffled protests of their two tightly bound and plugged subjects.
Later that evening…
Brandon was in agony. Despite the cold nature of the room, sweat dribbled down his creased forehead as he concentrated desperately. His forcibly opened eyes burned, even as one of their ‘attendants’ used a misting bottle to gently spray his dry eyes. “We want our boys to keep watching, certainly not go blind!” she had gently explained. Of course, his eyes were the least of his problems. Immobilized though he was, his muscles ached from his constant struggle, his forcibly arched feet were cramping and his forcibly raised chin made his neck throb horribly. The boy’s jaw ached from the extended position caused by the huge inflatable bladder filling his mouth and further made it hard for him to swallow the steadily flowing, foul-tasting solution. Worse, his stomach was slowly filling and in his face down position the pressure was rapidly becoming intolerable. Yet, while all these discomforts would challenge anyone, they were nothing compared to the real torment the trembling boy was enduring. Despite his best efforts, he had already experienced several painful shocks as unwelcome drizzles of pre-cum struck the trigger plate. His tormentors had added a loud buzzer to the plate designed to go off a few seconds before the electrical charge fired. It gave the helpless victim just enough time to panic before the pain began. The shock itself only went on for eight seconds but it seemed an eternity. Worse it made it hideously difficult to concentrate and not lose complete control. Brandon desperately wanted to close his eyes but the erotic scenes before him were being burned upon his mind, making him unable to think of anything else. Of course the ingestion of their chemical treatments had a large part in breaking down the resistance of the two struggling boys. The enemas were worse than Brandon had imagined…indeed, he could never have imagined the feeling even in his worst nightmare. The weight of the oil made him feel as if he had concrete packed inside and the muscle spasms, as his body fought to expel the nasty load only to be thwarted by the sealing plug, had him gasping for breath. The cramps came in terrible waves. Brandon was certain he would pass out from the pain, but the amphetamine in the witch’s brew he was forced to drink would make blissful unconsciousness impossible. The boy merely whimpered. He couldn’t do anything else. Finally, the ginger compound was stinging and burning his tender inner lining and the searing itch was increasingly maddening. The girls who came down from time to time to watch all noted the frantic clenching of each boy’s rectal muscles around the sealing plugs as their victims fought the itching, burning agony in the only way available to them. Even worse, if such was possible, Brandon was becoming painfully aware that the diuretic in the feeding vat was beginning to take effect. Soon, he realized with horrible clarity, he wouldn’t be able to hold his bladder and the resulting stream would make for shocks of awful duration…and terrifying amounts of that forced enema. Beyond the monitor he could see the large clock on the wall. “MMFF!!!!” It had only been eight hours…and he had forty more to go! Had he been able to think clearly and objectively, he would have marveled at his captor’s ingenuity in placing the clock there, ensuring their victims had no choice but to stay hideously and clearly aware of every second of the torture. Brandon jumped at the sound of a buzzer only to savor an all too brief moment of relief. He could see Elliot’s frantic, wiggling panic before his fellow sufferer was squealing from another electric shock. The squeals went up an octave when a click announced the next ginger oil injection into the boy’s bowels. From time to time the girls, singly or in groups, came down to visit their struggling captives. There were always teasing comments, mocking encouragements and gleeful reminders of how much longer they had yet to go. For the girls it was delightful. For the bound boys it was an on-going exercise in pain and abject humiliation. Elliot and Brandon merely grunted and squealed into their gags and fidgeted against their bonds. Occasionally they would be left alone, forced to watch the stream of provocative videos and focus on their extreme discomfort. Unable to see one another’s faces, they couldn’t even offer the other moral support, only watch and listen to his increasingly frantic desperation. Through the haze of pain, Brandon was unable to realize clearly that he was focusing rather intently on each time Elliot’s buzzer went off and silently willing the other boy to fail utterly. It hadn’t been forgotten that this was a competition and Brandon, as well as Elliot, did not intend to stay in this predicament any longer than he had to. An additional twenty-four hours plugged and filled was too awful to consider and neither had any doubts the women would do exactly what they threatened!
By the next morning both boys were already holding a substantial amount of enema fluid, Elliot just a bit more though neither knew that. They were sore, terrified and fervently wishing that this would all be over soon. Neither had slept- the drugs in their feeding vats ensured that. Rather, they were very wide awake and agonizingly conscious of each part of their sufferings. They had been alone with their torture for a few hours and the clock read 5:00 am when the door to their torture chamber opened. Not that Brandon heard it. The rumblings of his plugged and stuffed bowels and his own squeals were quite loud enough, not to mention Elliot’s! In their shared and very personal hell, Brandon and Elliot whimpered and squirmed, unable to do anything about the cramps wracking their bodies nor the deep burning in their bowels. Brandon gnawed on the huge inflatable gag behind the tightly strapped muzzle, swallowed some more of the nasty fluid and grunted almost unconsciously. He was startled to hear the and the click of heels so early as someone walked up beside him but out of his range of vision. Then he felt a cool hand on his butt and whimpered. “I just couldn’t sleep thinking about you boys all alone down here…” It was the dark haired girl who had helped set him up.. “so I thought I’d come back down here and keep you boys company ! Just don’t tell the others, O.K.? They’d be pissed if they knew I was having some private time with you, especially Samantha.!” Gagged as he was, Brandon was unlikely to say anything to anyone, so he simply whimpered. “Great!” The girls came around in front of him and squatted down so as to look in Brandon’s eyes. “Now, how’s that ol’ enema doing? A little uncomfortable?” she cooed sarcastically. “RMNFF!!!” “I’m sure it is but, well, sorry baby. I can’t let you drain your load just yet. The girls would know I’d been here wouldn’t they? No, I’m afraid you’ll have to keep dealing with it…” As she was saying these things, the girl strolled around the table, tightening straps until the boy grunted, then looked him in the face again. “I’m sorry Brandon. We haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Megan and I’m Elliot’s pledge trainer. I’ve been so busy getting him all prepared for his new life I haven’t had the chance to get to know you yet…but I will, rest assured, I will!” She giggled before standing up, her shorts-covered crotch inches from Brandon’s face. “Unfortunately we have a bit of a problem here.” Elliot groaned, not liking where this was going. “Yes you should feel bad, Elliot!” she snapped. “It looks like Brandon here is beating you in this enema race and I am not happy! I thought you’d do me proud, especially since you’ve already had some practice but it appears Brandon’s made of tougher stuff!” Elliot whimpered pathetically and, despite his desperation, Brandon felt a small surge of hope. Megan strode across the room, out of sight, but continued her observations. “You should be nervous Elliot! Even if by some miracle you win this I am very displeased with your performance so I am certain a lot more…training…will be in order!” Brandon could see the other boy’s trembling visibly increase. Sorry bud, Brandon thought. But better you than me! The click of heels announced that Megan had come back to the two restrained figures. “It’s unfortunate for you too Brandon dear. You see I put a lot of money down on you losing this little contest and I would really hate to blow my monthly allowance that way. So what I’m going to need is a bit of an edge…to give dopey Elliot there a little boost as it were. It’s unfair, I know, but since you’re the one all tied down, you’re not really in a position to argue.” Brandon squirmed, worried mightily, “MMFF!!!” She sat down in front of his face and opened a metal box. Unable to move his head, Brandon rolled his eyes downward to see what diabolical fate she had in store. From the box she took what appeared to be an electric toothbrush, except that it had a whole set of varying heads with a wide range of bristles, knobs and soft brushes. It obviously wasn’t to be used just on teeth. Brandon shivered, trembling in his bonds. Samantha selected a long bristled head and attached it. Then with her free hand, she reached over and lightly fingered his cock. Brandon jerked at the touch of her cool fingertips. “New game, baby.” she announced. “I’ve probably got about 20 minutes before the other girls start stirring so I figure there’s a ten minute window here to push you out of control. I’m going to pay extra special attention to this poor little cock of yours so I suggest you concentrate and try really, really hard to hang on.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “By the way, I know Samantha has a lot of money riding on you as well. Why she was ragging last night at how well you’re doing. I imagine she’ll be furious if you embarrass her by losing. I don’t know about you but I sure wouldn’t want to get that little redhead mad…especially if I was all tied u and as helpless and vulnerable as you!” She laughed. Brandon scremed a muffled protest into the gag. Oh God no! she couldn’t be serious! Of course all that came out was a shrill whine. “Exactly!” She patted his butt and chuckled. “Concentrate my boy and maintain muscle control! Who knows? You might just last the next ten minutes, but I’m not betting on that!” Megan smirked at the poor bound boy’s tightly clenched ass as he desperately tried to hold it all in. “Very good sweety! Now you just keep on concentrating and tightening those muscles, You might even find that I’m going to let you have a bit of pleasure.” Brandon heard the whine as the brush came to life and he bit down hard on the gag piece filling his mouth, realizing what the wicked beauty was planning to do. Soon enough she began applying the brush in light circles around his cock head, focusing on the ultra sensitive underside. Brandon screamed into his gag, every muscle tightened and his eyes firmly clenched. Tears leaked out from the corners of his wide-opened eyes and ran down his crimson face. The brush worked its way down his shaft and over his wrapped testicles. Megan smiled wickedly , humming a tune and reveling in the sight of his hellish struggle. “That’s right; just hang on…practice a little self control!” The brush returned to his overstimulated corona. The boy’s feet twisted in their straps and his whole body bucked wildly if very, very minimally thanks to the extremely tight restraints. When it seemed that he would lose all control, Megan abruptly stopped. “Ah ah ah, my dear! you are simply going to have to maintain more control, than that!” She chuckled and patted his clenching butt. “You came dangerously close to losing it and I know you don’t want that!” Brandon, however, only had a few moments to take a breath and regain control when the brush whined to life again against the soles of his feet. “MMRRRRRR!!!” Stooooopohpleeeaseohpleeeaseohpleeease!!!! I can’t stand it!!!! PLEEEEEEASE!!! But the brush whirred on. Brandon was devastatingly ticklish and the brushes on the soles of his immobilized feet soon had him jerking frantically in his bonds. He almost lost control yet again, his muscle spasms diverting his concentration from holding his bladder, but he caught himself just in time. “MMFF!!!!” Gleefully Megan explored all the ticklish and sensitive nooks and crannies along the poor bound boy’s backside- roving through the crack of his ass and even buzzing around his sphincter where it was stretched and sealed by the plug. She delicately and torturously worked the backs of legs and even along his naked sides. All the while Brandon howled and writhed, tears coursing down his reddened face while he gibbered and pleaded beneath the tight gag. When she finally tired of tickling her desperate charge, she paused and went to work once again on his cock and balls, driving him nearly to orgasm yet again before stopping abruptly and returning to his ticklish feet, legs and backside. Of course the whole time the poor boy still held his nasty enema sealed inside him and all the wiggling and struggling served only to escalate his cramping discomfort. It was hard to tell how long Megan’s new game went on. Poor Brandon’s squeals degenerated into ragged sobs and frantic grunts. Surely the ten minutes were nearly up? But the odds were so heavily against him, it really was only a matter of time. Brandon could clench his rectal muscles and try to hold it in, but the truth was that it was truly in Megan’s hands and she played him like a helpless instrument. Brandon realized she was ready to end her little game when she sat down cross legged on the floor beside him during his cock torture and held his straining member firmly in her cool hand while steadily applying the whirling brush in tiny circles around the underside of his cock head. He screamed into the gag and tried desperately to stop it, clenching his muscles tightly and hopelessly pleading for her to stop. “MMF!!MFF!!NNN!!NN!!!” Megan grinned and ever so slightly tightened her grip. “No more practice baby,” she breathed ominously. “This is the real thing so you had best concentrate very hard!” Nooooo!! Please Megan, pleeeease!!! Stop! I don’t think I can hold on much longer!!!” Megan smiled at the thrumming struggle of her oh-so-sweetly suffering captive, drinking in his abject terror and helplessness. She eased the pressure on the brush, now lightly orbiting in agonizing circles around his cock head. She could feel his hardened length twitch in her hands. “Uh oh. Are we getting dangerously close? Hold on Brandon baby! Hold on as if your life depended on it…’cause it probably does! Just give me two more minutes of control and then I’ll stop, ok?” “MMRFFNNF!!!” The boy wailed. She might as well have said five hours as it was doubtful he’d last another thirty seconds. All in all, however,” the cruel beauty mused as she added light strokes of her fingertips up and down his shaft, he’s held out longer than most men could. She supposed that in all fairness they should give the poor boy a break, but this was never about fairness. Poor Brandon would always lose and always suffer. It was to be his hopeless fate for years to come. She glanced up and watched his tightly restrained body literally trembling as his orgasm- and subsequent doom- came towards him with the inevitability of a freight train. He felt it building and squealed in desperate terror. No! No! Oh God, Megan, please don’t!!! Please stop! I can’t hold on any longer! Samantha will kill me…or worse!!! Pleeeease!!” Megan smiled a wicked smile as her unhappy victim’s squeals went up an octave and his feet thrummed frantically against the bonds. “Oh don’t come, Brandon, baby! You’ve just got to hang on!! Do you need me to stop?” He screamed one loud desperate wail…then his whole body went rigid. The boy came in an enormous and burning stream. Samantha stepped back and watched him heave and jerk and grunt. Above his groans there was a buzzer. The groans quickly became high pitched, almost feminine squeals as the current rippled through his tender testicles. Totally losing control, Brandon drained both his bladder and his balls, the steady stream causing an equally steady flow of electricity. Then there was a loud click and the gigantic enema tank began draining a mind-boggling amount of fluid into his already overstuffed bowels. Brandon was sure he would explode but the flow just kept on. When another click finally announced that the prescribed amount of hell had been pumped into him, Brandon held an astonishing two and a half gallons of burning, heavy, itching ginger oil, sealed tightly into his bloated gut. His breathing came in short whistles and his protests had subsided to steady, staccato grunts. “Uh oh!” Megan purred ominously, carefully putting away her brush. “It looks like someone has lost my game…big time! I believe I distinctly warned you not to come, didn’t I?” She raised an eyebrow and waited for him to look at her with his tear filled, puppy-dog eyes. “Someone is in big trouble!” Brandon fidgeted and whimpered softly. “As I see it my dear, my boy Elliot now has a pretty substantial lead on you now. More to the point, I might well make a lot of money and your Samantha will be the one who’s broke! None of those bode well for you Brandon, do they?” The truth was, he dreaded what Samantha would do if she found he had managed, however painfully, an orgasm and some modicum of release from his burning bladder. Of course any relief was more than offset by the tremendous enema load he was now forcibly holding but he didn’t think that would be taken into account by his angry trainer. His eyes pleaded with Megan. Brandon sobbed into his gag. “Oh there there, my sweet.” She patted his butt yet again. “You just lie here and think about what that will be like and prepare yourself for when Samantha and the other girls get up. Besides, at least now you don’t have to hold your bladder and, who knows, dopey old Elliot there might just fail even more spectacularly before your full forty-eight hours is up!“ Megan paused a moment and listened to his whimpers before picking up a large chrome syringe and filling it with something from her bag. “This is just a little bit extra horse laxative my boy.” Brandon groaned and wiggled a bit. “No sense in making it too easy for you after all. You are being punished!” The syringe was fitted into a port on his gag where the feeding tube entered. Unable to blink, he watched helplessly as she depressed the plunger in front of him and a good pint of the terribly strong laxative was pushed into his mouth. “And you thought your cramps were bad before! Wait ‘till this stuff starts trying to clean you out. I just gave you twice the does vets give to constipated horses so let’s just imagine what it will do to you!” The bound victim bucked fruitlessly some more, protesting in garbled yelps. She reached down and tightened the straps on his gag and inflated the ball a pump or two more. Megan whispered in his ear: “Don’t tell anyone what I did, OK?” Her laugh echoed through the room as she left, locking the door behind her.
Alone again with Elliot in the room, Brandon tried NOT to think about what twenty four more hours with this load would be like…not to mention whatever additional punishment Samantha would mete out. Yet that simply made him think more about the massive load still knotting in his bowels. Soon enough the laxative began to take effect and the room echoed with both the loud gurglings of his stomach and his ever higher pitched squeals. He tried various tactics to deal with his predicament. Think of something else. Think of happier places. He commanded himself…but then the next wave of pain would jerk him back to his present hideous reality. NNNgh! Help! Please! I can’t take any more! Pleeeeeease! Of course all that came of these eloquent and desperate pleas were muted squeals, heard by no one above and outside the deep, concrete lined basement. And he hated Elliot. He blamed the other suffering boy, however illogically, for his current predicament. Of course that was the DWM plan all along and their animosity would add a certain spice to all their future competitions!
When Samantha and some others finally came downstairs more than two hours later, Samantha motioned her friends to silence as they opened the door and tip toed down the stairs to Brandon and Elliot’s torture chamber. Being quiet as they were, they could all hear his soft whimpers and grunts; the waves of cramps and the urgent demand for release holding their helpless subjects in a state of unrelieved misery. From their vantage point they could see the two ‘pledges’ still squirming fruitlessly. Samantha looked affectionately at ‘her’ pledge, Brandon. His tormented body kept scooting up and back, fractions of an inch only, but it was the only motion possible. His bare feet with their tied toes twitched and his encased hands wiggled minutely in the binder. “It looks like he’s humping the table!” Megan whispered delightedly, pointing at his plugged and clenched ass. “I told you he was a randy little boy who more than richly deserves his treatment, didn’t I?” Samantha hissed triumphantly. “I think he might just win this round, don’t you?” With that they all strolled in, greeting the bound boys enthusiastically! “Good morning, sweethearts! I’ll bet you’re more than ready to release your current loads, eh?” Samantha patted Brandon affectionately on the butt, a gesture that was becoming as common place as it was humiliating to Brandon, reminding him as it did of their absolute control of his most personal and sensitive parts. And he could do nothing about it. Then she stopped and yelled.. “What the hell is this!” She slapped his ass sharply. “What the hell have you done?” “MMFF!!! MFF!!!” In front of him Brandon could see that Keri had also come into the room, grinning wickedly. “Oh dear,” she said innocently. “Has your boy gone and lost control of himself Samantha? Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.”
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