- "No idea, this is the first time we spend extensive time with him."
- "He's cute. Hopefully you won't have to punish him too brutally when my boy inevitably beats him..."
I still don't know what the game is that I am now apparently committed to, but it sounds like it will be hard. And, it doesn't sound like I have much of a chance of winning.
One of my masters squats next to me and holds my shoulder. It's Master M telling me: "Before we take off your blindfold, we just want you to know that there's no shame in losing but, there will be punishment. This will be when you decide what happens this evening and night. Win, and you'll still suffer and hurt, but there'll also be some fun to be had. Lose, and this will be a night of endless and relentless torture."
I knew coming here tonight that pain and torture were always in the cards. However, I have a chance to make sure that there will be more than that I just don't know yet how I'll be able to do that. He takes off my blindfold, and there it is! I can now see what's going to determine my fate for the evening: I see a room packed with long benches full of dildos. The dildos are attached to the benches from smallest but not exactly small to biggest or rather, freakishly large. Here and there, there are boys racing against each other. They take the first few dildos with ease, but the last few are unsurprisingly a challenge. Some boys just have to give up in tears -- that's not going to be me, I promise myself -- because they just cannot impale themselves on the largest dildos. Others just keep trying, even though they are clearly in agony. Some real sluts take the huge rubber dongs still with ease.
There are also boys strung up against the wall. They are hanging from a crucifix with only their arm muscles to keep themselves up. Their boy pussies rest on huge dildos. As their arms get tired, they have no choice but to impale themselves on the foot-long, girthy dildos. Around some boys, there's a crowd of men playing with their nipples and their balls, telling the boys that this wouldn't have happened had they just won their race -- clearly some losers were punished this way. Others, as it turned out, were taken to one of the torture dungeons for their punishment.
Other crucified boys were left alone just suffering on their own. Some were still trying desperately to lift themselves off the dildo crying and weeping, knowing it was always going to be a losing battle, knowing that eventually they would have to give it up and impale themselves. Others had already given up. They were clearly in pain, as they let the dildos sink ever deeper into their already well-stretched holes. Yet others continued to fuck themselves -- either wittingly or more likely by not giving up yet collapsing onto the dildo and then being pushed by the new pain to lift themselves up again, only to once again not be able to hold themselves up and collapse again.
Looking at all the suffering losers, I needed to remind myself of what the staff always stresses when you check in as a boy: you can leave at any time. They may be suffering, but they know they can leave. They're therefore choosing to suffer for the men they are serving tonight. I think that's beautiful and I know that if I lose, I will also choose to take my punishment and choose to suffer -- I'd be proud to take my punishment in stride.
Then I looked at my competitor -- apparently a pro at this. He was kneeling by his master's side. He was a young, skinny asian boy. It was hard to imagine such a small-framed boy taking these huge dildos at all. Then I looked into his eyes and saw lust. I knew he was here for the sole reason to constantly push himself further. I could only think that if I were to lose to anyone, I'd be proud to lose to a boy that I don't doubt is a true slut. I don't want to think about the consequences of losing, though. I might be new to this and he sounds like an experienced slut, but I know I can be as big a whore as any boy here.
My masters give me a big bottle of lube and tell me I can use as much as I want or need. I look at those last few dildos and can only think that there will be no such thing as too much lube. My competitor is also using tons of lube. He seems focused. He's been here before. One of the staff members comes over to explain the rules, which seems superfluous. He did make it clear that we need to fully press our cheeks against the bench before moving on to the next dildo and that he will be keeping watch to make sure that we do. Also, the masters are not allowed to help -- for example, by pushing a boy down. And, no poppers! The winner, of course, is the first to fully take the last dildo. If neither of us make it there, the one who gets the furthest wins, but the master still may punish the winner for not making it to the end.
I had fantasized about about games and contests like this before, but now that I'm about to embark on one, I am both terrified and energized. I take big dildos all the time -- it's become somewhat routine -- but I hadn't been as excited by them for a long time -- or, scared!
