The Tied Man

I didn’t have a clue what they were on about.  Didn’t care.  Clients brought their own toys all the time, keen to play without judgement or boundaries, and as far as I was concerned it usually came down to some arsing around on the night followed by a couple of ibuprofen and a hot bath the next day.  My arms ached, my head felt like it was full of wet mud and I wanted a piss, a cigarette and my bed, preferably in that order.  Whatever they were about to do, I willed them to get a move on.

*****

I didn’t get it.  They had paid thousands to fuck each other senseless whilst a glorified rent boy dislocated his arms for the best part of a night.

Royce and Selena, dinner guests from hell and shite actors to boot, seemed content to have noisy, artless sex in as many positions as they could think of, breaking only to have another drink or check their captive for disappointingly non-existent signs of escape.  I wondered what the hell it was about this set-up that was getting them so excited – especially Selena, who was, as far as I could see, enthusiastically shagging a troll.  At the time I thought it might be some drug-induced frenzy.  It wasn’t.  It was pure, cold-blooded anticipation.

From my limited angle of vision, I saw Royce use a monogrammed Albermarle facecloth to mop the sweat from his balding head before wiping down Selena’s thighs and shaved bush.  I had given up guessing their game: she’d had enough cock to last a year, and he looked as though another round might see him off.  I was stupidly thinking that I might actually get the chance to fall into my own bed when Royce walked over and slapped me hard across the head.  He caught me on the ear and my eardrum throbbed to the sound of a tidal wave.

I hated getting hit by amateurs.  I would settle for a real bondage freak any day: they at least knew how to avoid any real damage.  Royce, like most of my clients, was simply a git with too much money and an urge to hurt someone who couldn’t thump him back.

Are you ready for your punishment, slave?’ he demanded.

‘Yes, Emperor,’ I replied, hoping that this was the response he was after this time.  I began to imagine my back turning into a sheet of ice in anticipation of whatever he’d found to whack me with.

Instead of the impact there was an odd, plastic rustle that I didn’t recognise and I felt the first dull, indistinct nudges of panic.  This wasn’t what I was expecting and I was in no position to do anything about it.  Selena picked up the cloth that Royce had used on her and forced it into my mouth.  Only the thought that I might choke to death stopped me puking on the spot.

‘Slaves who try to run need to be taught a lesson.  Something that’ll make sure they don’t do it again.’  There was something in her tone of voice that suggested she was no longer role-playing: half a kilo of Columbia’s finest and a few pints of champagne had sent her into her own make-believe world.  This wasn’t good – the concept of ‘boundaries’ was well out of her reach, and I was stark naked and tied to a wall.

I fought hard not to gag as she stood on the tips of her toes and entwined her arms around my neck.  I could feel her hot, desperate breath on my cheek and I instinctively recoiled as she began to nuzzle my face.  ‘You’re going to have to be hamstrung, slave.’

It’s hard to explain the sheer ball-shrinking terror that comes with such words, knowing that you’re in a place where they’re not just an empty threat but a promise; the culmination of someone’s ‘special night’.  I wondered if involuntarily pissing myself might be enough to put them off.  Judging by their expressions, it was unlikely.

Are you sure about this, my sweet?’ Royce asked.

‘Do it,’ Selena replied, and her lover, somewhere well and truly in another orbit by now, stooped and gripped my left leg at the ankle, clamping it hard in his deceptively strong fingers, and jabbed something cold and sharp deep into the flesh at the back of my knee.

I rapidly learned that it took long seconds for your brain to recognise that some sadistic fucker was carving into your leg, but when the pain finally hit it was like nothing I’d ever experienced.  It began in the pit of my stomach, radiating out in unrelenting waves while the assault continued and I impotently bucked against my restraints as my whole body was engulfed and my muffled howling became nothing more than an irritating background noise.

Royce continued with his work, and I felt blood flow down my calf to pool on the stone floor.  He was in no hurry – this was his big moment after all – and Selena lay back and desperately fingered herself, acrylic-taloned fingers sliding deep into her cunt as her fiancé continued his leisurely butchery.  Her loudest, fiercest orgasm of the night was reserved for this.