(Authors Note: After being asked to revise this I can't believe that I have to state what is plainly obvious - THIS IS FICTION! This is also horror. It is a cautionary tale. It is a rendering of the logical consequences of dangerous sexual behavior. If this account should inspire someone to make a better decision then it has served it's purpose. Sexual predators exist, they prey on everyone. Thanks to technology they have many methods.
Make informed decisions. Be smart and be safe.
Don't let this happen to you.)
*
STORY BEGINS
Can't concentrate.....
Can't stop shaking.....
My mind is just a jumble of thoughts and once again, I realize that I am deeply afraid.
'Shit I'm gonna throw up'.
I grapple with that thought before my mind shifts and I decide that ill probably just piss myself before that happens. Not that it would make much difference now. I'm hardly wearing anything at all anyway.
And then I cast my mind back to how I lost my freedom.
That addiction to online porn that started all too innocently and then drew me in deeper.
All those nights searching and staring at scenes and acts that shocked me at first, but then began to germinate dark seeds of lust within my brain.
My daily focus soon starting to shift to something much more specific. In time every night becoming the same.
Sitting there alone in a darkened room. Acts of submission and degradation playing out on a screen before my eyes.
In time my curiosity leading me down a forbidden path.
I don't even remember how I became aware of the 'Dark Web'.
My vanilla existence up until then had not prepared me for a place where anything was possible. It had sounded like a wonderland of infinite possibility.
I know it for what it really is now.
The sad part about the human condition is that if you give someone the ultimate freedom to do anything or go anywhere, It's often the dark forbidden places that win out.
I was no better than anyone else in this respect. I went looking for darkness, never intending to be anything more than an observer.
I had no idea of the beautiful and sick karmic twist about to take place.
A naive voyeur who would ultimately suffer the same fate as those he watched.
Perhaps a fitting punishment for my sins.
I wasn't into anything sick or perverse at least not to my way of thinking.
I was discovering that the world of submission and BDSM seemed to push all the right buttons inside of me.
The thing is, back then I couldn't tell the difference between good and bad, between healthy and unhealthy.
I was simply discovering.........discovering new and secret places on the dark web that catered to this sickness growing inside of me.
My watching slowly turning into wanting.
And..every night the same inevitable result.
Without thinking my hands would start fumbling at my belt and then hurriedly tear open my jeans.
My already hard cock straining to get free of my underwear.
Fingers wrapping around the long shaft and my hand making a tight fist around the hard flesh.
My hand moving faster as the smooth soft skin of my swollen cock would slide over the rigid erectile tissue underneath.
And all the while those images burning themselves into my subconscious.
Jesus, if my girlfriend ever saw what I was masturbating to back then.
There was one amateur clip in particular that kept drawing me back in.
Something I stumbled into on that dark web. A local link posted in a chat room that I followed.
It was footage from a go-pro cam shot in someones basement, and the date stamp was only a month old.
Two Dominant, male masters were training a submissive. Both using a bamboo cane on his ass. It was all just a cruel game to them, but the game did have rules.
All that poor submissive had to do was endure his caning for twenty minutes without screaming 'mercy'....but....the penalty for using that 'safe-word' was brutally harsh because, just like me, that poor submissive was a male virgin.
My knowledge of submission was still limited but even then I knew that this wasn't how it was supposed to work. Using a 'safe-word' was supposed to be a signal to stop everything, but these masters had a new variation on that rule.
There were six very 'old school' polaroid snapshots pinned to one wall of that dirty basement. The words 'Wall Of Honor' were written on the space above in a black marker.
They were pictures of all the submissives who had successfully endured a full twenty minutes of punishment without screaming the word 'MERCY'.
Each picture contained not a face, but the welted and bruised ass cheeks of a victorious sub. I guess one of the benefits of holding out was that you got to keep your anonymity.
But....there was also a 'Wall Of Shame' and there were literally dozens of pictures pinned to that wall.
They were all the failed men and boys who had used the safe-word, only this time they were all face pics.
Startled faces with shell-shocked expressions. Eyes streaming with tears and fresh semen oozing from mouths and chins. All of them young men in their twenties or thirties.
The rules were simple. Take the punishment for twenty minutes and you earn a space on the 'Wall of Honor'.
If it all got too much and you screamed out 'Mercy' sure, the punishment would stop, but it would be replaced by something far more invasive.
A brutal 'Air-tight' fucking. You became a piece of meat. The camera filming everything. On your hands and knees in some dark basement. A huge cock fucking your throat while another went 'balls deep' into your asshole. And let me just tell you that it was not a gentle fucking....it was a vicious pounding.
In that very first clip, the masters wore black. Their faces were masked. I soon discovered that it was always that way.
They worked diligently on that slave who was on his hands and knees.
His eyes were wide and startled.
His face becoming a mixture of pain and emotion as he tried to process each blow from the cane. His ass cheeks soon covered in deep red welts.
Not long into the punishment came the accompanying cries of pain.
His desperation growing and his fear becoming tangible.
He was falling apart at the ten minute mark and appeared to be crying.....but he held on.
Fifteen minutes in and he began to beg without capitulating, crying out 'Please!' but not saying that word. He was so close to making it, but so close to breaking too.
I began to hope for him. I remember first thinking, 'just hold on...you are almost there'.
But those cruel masters now sensed his breaking point was close.
The blows becoming faster and harder then. The boy who looked about twenty years old screaming and shuddering as the two masters worked in tandem. Each with a bamboo cane. Each working one cheek and then the other.
