Because She Loves Me….

“OK Toy, I’m told to blame this next bit of fun on your buddy’s buddy. This is something I would have never thought of and doesn’t sound like fun or sexy to me, but they tell me you’ll love it with your nuts held as they are.” She then shows me a tube of Icy Hot Pro cream.  “I guess you know where this is going, don’t you? Mike said to use the ‘Pro’ cream as it has both menthol and camphor, where the original Icy Hot balm only has menthol. I didn’t ask him how he knew which one was better, but he was pretty sure of himself. He said the combination is supposed to make the cold and hot feelings more enjoyable. Maybe he used the word ‘entertaining’, I don’t remember exactly. I’m not so sure about either because he also said to keep it away from your holes unless I wanted to be extra, extra nasty. He also told me to wear plastic gloves when I put it on you. That is scary and made me apprehensive, but Mike was persistent, mentioning it on more than one phone call. What convinced me to do it was when he said it would make for one of the best parts of your birthday. I guess you’ll find out soon enough, here goes.” She then slathers a coating over my entire trapped ball sack. I know better. This is going to be bad. So bad. My bride has crossed over to the evil side and she doesn’t know it. The boys know it and so do I. Yes, this is going to be bad. I feel I’m back in Vegas.

“I’m going to leave you to your fun and get back to my work. Oh wait, I forgot, I wanted to do one more thing.” And she twists and pulls each of my nipples, before placing a broad billed clothes pin on each. She then kisses me and leaves.

The clothes pins would initially capture my attention, but my thoughts are only on my balls. The chemical torture has already begun. I have previously experienced Vick’s Vapor Rub on my privates, which isn’t bad at all, kind of nice and stimulating. I have also had the irritant muscle balm ‘Atomic Bomb’ put on my balls by my tormentors in Vegas. Excruciating. Suffering only a BDSM submissive in bondage could enjoy.  Applying the Icy Hot to the vulnerable skin of my compressed and recently shaved genitals turns out to be especially diabolical. More so, because it was executed through my naive and uninformed bondage partner. Ah, my sinister friend DR. D, your hands are all over this. On the other hand, the love of my life is downstairs working on her chemistry PhD. She’s got to be smart enough to know what this cream is going to do to me. If she has just crossed over to the other side, this day may have become my perfect birthday.

 It grows slowly but strong, a cool then a cold feeling, like ice being held to you that you can’t pull away from. It’s penetrating. The skin doesn’t like it and neither do the testicles trap within. I find myself trying to pull out of the vise with all my might to no avail. It’s a ‘burning’ cold, yet not one that gives you shivers, it gives you pain. Irritating pain. The label says it delivers pain relief. Maybe on a sore shoulder, not here. It keeps building and building. My upper body squirms as my legs pull and twitch against their restraints. I shake and quiver. Misery is a good description. I start breathing hard, then shallow as I try to internally deal with the suffering of my trapped balls.

Then slowly it changes. The cold is changing. Not for the better. My balls are warming. Make that getting hot. No, they are starting to burn. They are on fire. Pain, oh wow, the pain is intense. I fight my bondage. It holds. Especially the vise that clutches my sack. The self-inflicted yanking up on my nuts is causing its own pain. I must stop pulling as I could hurt myself beyond my irritant suffering. But damn, it burns. This is torturous. “Please stop it, PLEASE, PRETTY PLEASE! OH GOD, PRETTY, PRETTY PLEASE MAKE IT GO AWAY. PLEASE!” My plea falls on deaf ears.  With no safe word called out, she will ignore what I say, that is our agreed rule when we play. Oh, what I would do to have someone wipe this off, to put some kind of neutralizer on my balls. Anything to make it go away. It’s not going anywhere.

 I know that in time it will start to calm down, but time is moving slowly. This is the fantasy though, being abused by my mistress. I’ve been recently seeking and satisfying this bondage and punishment pleasure and relief through gay BDSM masters. Now I am being bound and abused by my own loving wife. This is the dream come true.

Just because this is at my wife’s loving hands doesn’t mean that this doesn’t hurt, hurt bad.  In fact, at the moment it is excruciatingly painful. It is relentless. I so want to touch my sack. Hold it. Wipe it free of this crap. Ice it. Dip it in cold milk. But my bound hands are useless. I can’t rescue myself. No one is here to save me. Even my torturer isn’t here, she’s downstairs keeping busy, so I can enjoy this in solitude. I don’t understand how this stuff keeps getting more intense, but it is. The pain is penetrating to my core. How can a simple cream do this. It’s sold over the counter! I’m suffering. Just like a BDSM submissive is to suffer for his Mistress. Just like I suffered for my surrogate Masters out West not long ago. I need to suck it up. But it hurts so much, and I can’t touch it. Oh, if I could only cradle my nuts. It won’t go away. I work on my breathing and find that that pregnancy breathing that women do in delivery really helps. I try to redirect my agony into a more satisfying pain pleasure. It seems to be working. Or maybe the effects are just starting to fade. It will be another half hour for it to get to the level where my nipples and vibrating butt balance it out. I have survived. And I am back in my ‘happy bondage space.’

I also realize as I go over my recent thoughts that my wife’s part in all this is almost entirely based on her desire to make me happy. She might be having more fun today than with previous bondage sessions with me, and maybe she did have a good time planning for this day with Mike and his friends, keeping it a secret from me, but this will end soon enough. If her motivation is limited to just trying to make a special day for me, then selfishly I hope she is motivated to put the same effort into my next birthday, because so far this has been an amazing gift.  If she is beginning to enjoy this, oh wow for me.

An hour passes before she returns. I am exhausted from straining in this predicament. And I would like to move onto something new. Without question, I want to continue with the bondage play, just something else now.  “OK Toy, are you done with sitting?”

“Yes Ma’am.” First off are the locks to the leg cuff attachments to the bench. She keeps the cuffs on my ankles. The freedom of being able to move and swing my legs is a welcome relief. Then the slow cranking open of the vise. As the handles turn my anticipation grows. I want to stand free of my entrapment. She teasingly takes her time. But I am released, and she helps me stand. I want to cup my balls but can’t as my arms are still cuffed behind me. She then provides some first aid. She has a soft rag and a bowl of what appears to be milk. She rinses the rag in the milk and wipes down my balls. The cream has lost its sting, but it still feels good to feel it being wiped from my sack. I am surprised that there is minimal pain from the time they spent held by the vice. The pain from the cream is now nonexistent. My scrotum is fine. My butt, however, is notably sore as the butt plug still fills me and is vibrating away, what up to a few minutes ago was background noise. I notice that the attic temperature is rising. We must be well into the afternoon. It’s going to be both sexual and physically hot for the remainder of our attic play.