implied body modification

[Warning: This is a very sexually dark story. Fisting, watersports, medplay, implied body modification, chastity. My thanks to Kenji De Sade for his encouraging me to write this story after a series of conversations about chastity.]

How had I come to be here? I wondered as I floated in orgasmic bliss.

It had started with my impulsively writing a guy on a fisting-oriented online system. Despite my bearish belly, I was a well known and popular versatop.

Recently, however, I’d been way more top than versa, and I was getting tired of always taking care of someone else’s hole. I wanted to lie back and let someone else direct the action and take care of MY hole for a chance.

He was in his early 60s, top only, loved fisting, being sucked, and fucking, in about that order. And “some kink; ask me about it.” I did, and he invited me over to play.

On the first date, I was pleased by what I saw. His body was furry, he was handsome, and had engagingly suckable looking nipples, and a solid, thick 6″ dick, cut. Maybe 5’11″, with an absolutely beautiful butt that made my tongue and fingers twitch. Nice thick chewable moustache, and pretty brown eyes that drew me in deeply. Large hands, with long, slender fingers. Strong. Slighty furred knuckles.

I laid face down on the bed, and he straddled me with a bit of difficulty (I’m 6’2″) and started rubbing my neck and shoulders.

Ooooh. Perfect first move.

I’m a “touch slut.” I crave touch, body contact, massage, and the incredible sensual energy that accompany those things.

This man knew how to Touch, with a capital “T”.

The warmth of his hands pressed me into the bed, and he paused just long enough to arrange my face between a couple of soft feather pillows before working deeper into my knotted shoulders and neck, releasing tension I’d not even been aware was there.

After nowhere near long enough, he flipped me over and started working on my shoulders from the front, then worked down each arm and hand methodically. Either he’d been through massage training, or he was a highly talented amateur. At that point, I didn’t care, as long as he didn’t stop touching me.

“Keep your eyes closed, boy, and keep breathing deeply. We’re going to try something new on you.”

I heard him slip on a pair of nitrile gloves–after 30+ years of fisting, I knew the sound all too well–and felt him lay down some paper toweling aroudn my crotch.


I felt him liberally lube up my dick with something, and a first-warm, then a cooling feeling. Instantly, I felt myself become rock-hard. He then started moving my dick back and forth very gently, and I couldn’t figure out the point, since I wasn’t feeling any texture or pressure. Had he wrapped my dick in a featherbed or something? It felt…weird. Then I felt as if my dick had gone soft. Huh.

“Breathe more slowly, boy; I’m going to put something up your dick, since you said you wanted to try some sounding.”

I felt my urethra being stretched, then a cold rod of something–metal?—sliding down slowly. I moaned, not sure if it was painful or pleasurable, ultimately deciding upon the latter. I felt the metal go down past the base of my dick. I moaned again, because it felt like my dick was being jacked off from the inside.

“Open your eyes, baby,” growled my playmate, and I did, noting with shock that I had a raging hardon, and that he was jacking me off…and I couldn’t feel his hand. “Go ahead and feel it for yourself,” he commanded.

I did so, and drew my hand back in shock. It was like touching a warm sausage. Someone else’s warm sausage. My dick was completely numb.

He smiled. “You’ll have to play with it a little differently to feel anything now, boy. I massaged some Emla cream into your dick. It’ll be numb for a couple of hours at least. You’re not dickless, but you may as well be, because you can’t feel anything from it…on the outside.”

My dick jumped by itself when he said “dickless”. Being nullified had been a fantasy of mine for years, because I was tired of everybody wanting to suck me, wanting me to fuck them, always centering on my genitals when all I wanted to do was play with theirs without distraction. I’d wished that I was nullified so that people would have to let me play with them instead. How had he figured this out? It was like he’d gotten inside of my head.

And I carefully manipulated my still hard dick, noting that with careful pressure, I could feel my urethra and the sound in it just fine…so my dick really WAS being jacked off from the inside. And it was intense.

Then I felt his gloved hand touch my butt, and my eyes rolled up into my head. “Yeah, you can’t get the pleasure you used to from your dick, so now you’re going to be totally hole-centered for me. The sounding won’t get you off, no matter how much you try. Your only pleasure will come from my using your holes. And your balls, which I left un-deadened, so that I can use them to control you better.” And he gently thwacked a finger against each of my balls, sending me into a sudden spasm of surprise from the quick, soft pain.

My fantasy come true. If I could have felt my dick at that point, I would have been shooting buckets of cum.

“OK, time to get you ready for the sling.” And with that, he slowly removed the metal sound–all nine and a half inches of it–from my softening dick. Freaky. With the sound removed, I couldn’t tell what my dick was doing unless I was looking at it. I really had become a (hopefully temporarily) dickless fuckboy. He helped me up, and we walked across the room to a sling. I just couldn’t stop playing with my dick; it felt so…alien.

“Hm. Gonna have to keep your hands offa that until the Emla wears off. Ah! I know what we can do. Just the thing!” And he produced a bag of ice and a CB-6000 chastity cage. The bag of ice went onto my dick, and when it softened sufficiently, he fit the chastity device onto me, locking it with a small padlock, placing the key around his neck.

I looked down, and saw my shrunken dick in a plastic cage that was at least a couple of sizes too large. “Yeah, your dinky thing isn’t big enough to fill out the cage, but in this case, that’s OK. It just needs to be kept away from your hands for a while. Fortunately, a side effect of the numbing is that you won’t be able to get hard for a while.”

Suddenly, I realized that I was going to have to piss soon. He directed me to the toilet, where I sat down to pee like a girl. The resulting flow was…messy, but I managed to keep it all in the toilet. “Hm,” he said, “if I’m gonna throw you into the sling for several hours, I can’t have this. We’re gonna try something else.”

He unlocked and removed the plastic cage from my dick, rinsed it off and plopped it into a shallow pan of alcohol, then donned a fresh pair of nitrile gloves and pulled out a white paper and plastic envelope, which I recognized it as a catheter kit.

After grabbing the CB-6000 and shaking off the alcohol, he opened the kit and removed the catheter, which he threaded through a hole I hadn’t noticed in the end of the cock cage. “I like this model because it makes it easy to catheterize my boys,” he noted with satisfaction as he carefully inserted the catheter up my dick, making me writhe in pleasure. When he was satisfied that I’d been fully cathed, he guided the plastic cage down the catheter to my crotch, re-locked the assembly onto my crotch, then guided me back over to the sling.

He had me lay back, made sure I was comfortable, then walked up to my head. “Now I have to piss, boy. Open wide.” And his put his semi-hard dick into my mouth, “don’t suck it, just let it sit there for a minute while I relax my piss muscles.” After a moment or two, I felt, then tasted, the warm liquid flowing from his dick.

Now, I’m not just a cum pig and fist pig, I’m also a piss pig. I love drinking a man’s piss. It’s like liquid energy to me. A play buddy once said that I drank piss as if I needed it to exist…and that’s what I found myself doing now. There wasn’t a strong taste; it was kind of like a very weak tea…and the sexual energy it contained burned a path down my gullet into my belly. I moaned around his dick as I swallowed. “God damn, boy,” he said, “you’re sucking the piss right out of me! I could get used to this.”

After an eternity, he was done…and I realized that I needed to piss now more than ever, and told him so. “Let it go, boy,” he said, “I’ve got the catheter blocked off; it’s not going anywhere until I say so.” I did, and felt the flow start, then stop abruptly. Suddenly, the flow started, and I wondered where it was going until it stopped again, and he said “Mmm. Nothing I like more than fresh boypiss from a properly caged boy. Delicious. Here, try some of your own, boy.”

He inserted the end of a plastic tube in my mouth, and I tasted my own piss. It wasn’t the first time, and I knew from experience that I liked the taste. But having it fed to me this way was strangely exciting, almost as if were someone else’s piss.

My flow slacked off finally, and he removed the tube. I didn’t see what he did with it. “”Be right back, boy,” he said, then left for a few minutes, leaving me to swing gently in the sling, feeling very disconnected from my body, as if I were floating in space, listening to the quiet meditative music he’d put on.

He returned, and placed the tube back in my mouth. “OK, let’s see how this works,” he said, and suddenly more piss was flowing into my mouth…but it wasn’t mine; it was his.

“Yep,” he said with great satisfaction, “I cathed myself and ran a long tube so you’d have something to drink while I’m playing with your butt.” One final strong burst of piss, and he was done. I found myself greedily sucking at the tube. “Whoa there, boy. You’ll get more. I slugged back a bottle of beer and a couple of glasses of water, to make sure that you won’t get dehydrated. Just keep that tube in your mouth. Here; this’ll make it easier.” He remove the tube from my mouth and fitted it with a sort of nipple onto the end, and placed the nippled tube in my mouth. “Sometimes I like to gag my boys, but I want to hear you moan for me this time.”

After a moment, I felt his gloved hands spreading lube around the entrance to my hole. Since I couldn’t feel my dick, all I felt was his hand under my balls and rubbing gently against my sphincter. He slowly started massaging around my pucker, working slowly inward, relaxing each band of muscle incrementally. I moaned around the tube, a deep guttural moan from somewhere in my belly. A moan I hadn’t known was there.

I felt one finger, then two, then more, entering my butt, still massaging gently around and around. He coned his hand and started a very slow and gentle seesawing motion, working a little more of his hand into me with each pass. Reflexively, I reached down to play with my dick.

“Bad boy!” he said, slapping my hand away, then gently slapping my dangling balls, enunciating each word with a slap. “Bad, Bad, BAD! You don’t have a dick any more until I’m done with you!” Oddly, the pain in my balls only made me hornier. I hadn’t ever been a pain pig before. What was going on?

Then I felt his hand, the one still playing with my butt, start to slide home, and get stopped by the tension in my clenched hole.

“I’m going to lay off your useless balls for now,” he growled, “but only because I want your hole relaxed and open. Breathe slower and deeper. Now.”

And as I breathed deeply, I felt my hole begin to relax, and his hand started an agonizingly long slow slide home into my butt, which was quivering in anticipating. As his hand slid into my butt, a fraction of an inch, then a half inch, then an inch, then all the way home.

I felt a scream erupt from my throat. Not a human scream; more like an animal. A jaguar, perhaps. “You sound like a cat, boy…maybe you’re really a boypussy under all that butch exterior.” I didn’t care what he called me, as long as he kept that hand in my hole. It was like I’d lost the power of speech. All I could do at that point was yowl and moan.

He moved his hand, and it felt like he curled it into a fist, centering it in a neutral position in the center of my butt. Every time he touched my prostate gland, a little shiver to pleasure went through me. Slowly, he started pistoning in and out, going a little further in each time, not quite going all the way out. His stroke speed and length continued to increase, along with my breathing. I didn’t care any more if I had a dick, as long as he kept his hand up my butt.

As he stroked, I felt myself letting go, releasing even more control, not even trying to clench around his incoming wrist. That’s when he pulled his balled fist all the way out of my butt and I started screaming for him to put it back in.

He re-coned his hand, put it in, made a fist, and continued pistoning, drawing out completely maybe every fifth or sixth stroke. I’d lost count of how many times he’d done this until I realized he wasn’t coning his hand any more; I was so wide open he was punch-fisting me. My head reeled, and I would have swooned if I wasn’t already lying down.

I felt some liquid in my mouth. “Take a drink, boy; don’t want you passing out now, it’s just getting fun.” When he saw that I was beginning to suck on the nipple in my mouth, he fiddled with something, and then I realized it was my own pent-up piss pouring into my mouth. Every time he pushed in or out past my bladder, another rush of my piss would gush into my mouth. I eagerly swallowed, and it took me a while to work out the rhythm of fist IN, suck IN, fist OUT, suck IN, breathe, fist IN, suck IN…

I have no idea how long he kept me in that hypnotic state, only that after some period of time, he stopped with his fist buried deep within me, fiddled with something, and told me to brace myself…then released a huge gusher of his own piss into my eagerly sucking mouth. He’d stopped to switch out the tubes. It was only later I found out he’d set up a three-way shunt with a handle so he could switch my feed between my bladder, his bladder, or neither. Obviously, he’d done this before.

Suddenly, his hand started doing something different; he started rotating his fist, and at first I couldn’t figure out why…until his knuckles started brushing up against my prostate.

That’s when the first of the orgasms hit. At least I think they were orgasms. Call them “buttgasms.” I couldn’t feel my dick, but it felt like I was spasming somewhere “down there”. And each one got stronger. “Start sucking on that tube again, boy,” he roared at me, and I felt the pressure in the line give as he worked the stopcock…and I realized that I was sucking down my own precum and cum along with the piss. Wow!

“OK, boy, that’s enough, I’m closing down the tube,” and I felt the tube start to resist my sucking.

It was then I realized that his hand wasn’t in my ass any more, and I started whining like a dog. I couldn’t see him, though I heard him doing something…and then I yelped as I felt his dick (with a condom, I later found out) slam into my wide open hole.

“I only like fucking loose holes that were made loose by me. This is my way of marking my territory. Anyone who tries to fuck you for a long time will know that another man made you this loose, and will know that he’s playing in my property.” His dick wasn’t long, but it was very, very thick, and it curved upwards so that the head slammed into my prostate each time he completed a penetration stroke. I felt myself on the edge of another anal orgasm, but couldn’t quite get there.

“On the edge? Good. I like ‘em that way. Keeps you horny, keeps you interested. I’m ’bout ready to come now. Open up.”

With that, he pulled out, ripped off the condom, stood, and walked up to the head of the sling, where he started fucking my eager piehole. He got in maybe eight or ten strokes when he started bellowing, and a huge volley of cum gushed into my mouth. It wasn’t bitter, it wasn’t sweet, but the taste made my eyes roll up in my head again and I sucked greedily, eager for every precious drop. Eventually, he tried to pull out, but I redoubled my suction and wouldn’t release, until he slapped me on the side of the face. Shocked, I released his still not yet soft dick. “That’s for disobeying me, boy. Learn to let go on my command in the future. Stay there.”

He left the room, and I heard the sound of water running. He returned shortly, and went back to my feet, telling me to stay in the sling. I felt some tugging and other weird motions at my still-numb crotch. He helped me out of the sling, holding me so that my shaky knees didn’t collapse. When he was sure I was OK, he gently pushed me down to my knees and stuck his mostly-soft dick in my mouth. Reflexively, I started to suck and was rewarded with a full force stream of piss to gulp down.

When he was finished, he helped me up, and told me to get dressed. I noticed that he’d removed the chastity device from my dick, though it was still numb. I played with my dick, hefting the warm, alien, disconnected weight in my hand.

“Oh yeah,” he said, as if he’d totally forgotten to mention it in passing, “while I was cleaning you up, I swabbed down your dick and injected some a little more local anaesthetic. Your dick will be numb until at least tomorrow morning, maybe a little longer. I don’t want you playing with your dick until you see me next. Play with your own butt all you want; it’ll just make you more of a slave to my fist and dick, because it’s the only way you’ll be able to get close to getting off. If you’re a good boy, next time I may let the numbing wear off so you can try to jack off with my hand up your butt.”

He guided me to the bathroom, had me take a warm shower, then had me dry off and dress and sent me on my way. “Call me when you need me,” he smirked, “it won’t be long.”

Well, that was rather high-handed, I thought, as I went home to go to bed.

And lay awake, realizing that I was still virtually dickless and still horny. I tried playing with my own butt using my hand, but couldn’t really reach my prostate. Playing with dildoes and other toys didn’t help, either. They just couldn’t scratch that one little itch the way His fist could.

I slept fitfully, and in the morning when I peed, and my recently-abused urethra stung in the most delicious and erotic way–I would have sworn my dick twitched except it was still numb–I simply couldn’t wait any more. I tried to get off again using my butt, and it just wasn’t gonna happen. I felt like climbing the walls.

At 8:00 AM, I called him. He sounded unsurprised. “You held out longer than most. Let me guess. You just can’t get off, can you?”

“No, not really.” I muttered into the phone.

“No, WHAT?!” he snarled.

“No, SIR,” I said between gritted teeth, hating myself for sounding like I was begging, but desperately needing and wanting to feel his hand up my ass again. “When can–uh, when MAY I come over, SIR?”

There was a long pause and a strange noise, and I finally realized he was snickering.

“You are one fine piece of work, little pussyboy. Also remarkably stubborn, but still, you’re a fast learner. I’ll give you two choices: Come over right now, and I’ll bring you off again…but it will cost you.”

I felt close to sobbing with frustration. “What is the cost, Sir?”

“Shut up; I’m not done talking. Come over now, or come over in two days. If you come over now, you’ll go home with my chastity device on your dicklet and my collar around your neck, marking you as my property, and the key will remain around my neck until I’m ready for you again. Come over in two days, and I’ll only numb up your crotch for 24 hours after, then you’ll never see me again after I bring you off.”

My ass started twitching and pulsing. I could barely think. I said the first thing that came into my mind.

July 2018
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