Kept Hard

The Tensors of Torment

I stepped through the front door of our condo, feeling every ounce of exhaustion from the grueling commute. Tossing my keys onto the entry table, I called out, "Hi sweetie, I'm home."

Silence met me, save for the low murmur of the television. I rounded the kitchen corner into the living room and froze. There she was. My sexy Domme, Wendy, reclining regally in the high-backed wing chair. She was an exquisite vision of absolute control: her dark hair pulled back into a severe, long ponytail, clad in a tight black leather corset that cinched her waist to a punishing hourglass, matching black panties, sheer black hose, and towering stiletto heels.

As her dark, calculating eyes locked onto mine, I saw the familiar, delicious glint of cruelty. She slowly tapped a leather riding crop against her bare thigh. I was already in trouble, and I hadn't even crossed the threshold two minutes ago.

"Jeremy," her voice cut through the air, cool, sharp, and dripping with disdain. "You told me you would be home by six. It is now six-twelve. I am not pleased. You have kept your mistress waiting."

I dropped my head, forcing the appropriate submissive posture. "I am so sorry, Mistress," I stammered, my heart rate spiking. "The traffic was brutal, and—"

"I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses, sub," Wendy barked, her Dark Goddess fully awakened and ravenous to play. "Go outside. Retrieve the luggage trolley from the service corridor, and you had better not keep me waiting... again."

I hurried back to the front door, slipping outside into the humid hallway. Fortunately, the hotel-style luggage cart was right where housekeeping usually left it - a rigid plastic platform on heavy-duty wheels, roughly four feet long and waist-high. It looked uncannily like a medical gurney or a serving cart, destined to become my altar of humiliation. Knowing better than to hesitate, I wheeled it inside, the caster wheels rumbling loudly against the hardwood.

Wendy was waiting, her crop still tapping rhythmically. Her eyes narrowed as I approached. "Strip Dildo-Whore. Now."

I fumbled with my tie, pulling it off and folding it meticulously before placing it on the side table.

"Faster, my sub," Wendy snapped, bringing the leather crop down with a sharp CRACK across my rear cheek. The sting ignited a hot flush of arousal through my veins. "You've wasted enough of my time today. Do you want me to take the rest of my disappointment out on your flesh?"

I hurriedly took off my shirt, trousers, and underwear, stacking every garment into a military-neat pile. My Domme abhorred mess; untidiness was an invitation to agony. Once completely stripped, I stood at rigid attention, my naked body trembling under her predatory gaze.

She stood up, sliding across the room with lethal grace. Standing inches from me, she pressed the tip of her crop lightly against my bare chest, tracing a path down to my navel. "Get up on the trolley," she whispered. "On your back. Hands raised over your head."

I scrambled onto the hard plastic surface, positioning myself exactly as ordered. My bare buttocks rested right at the edge, my head dangling off the top, and my arms and legs draped helplessly down the sides.

"Open up," she commanded.

I parted my lips, and she slid the handle of her riding crop between my teeth. "Bite down. Hold my crop."

I clamped down on the leather. Moving with practiced efficiency, Wendy secured thick nylon ties around my ankles, binding my legs tight against the base of the cart. Then, she walked to my head, wrenched my arms backward over my crown, and lashed my wrists together into a brutal, inescapable hogtied stretch. I instinctively tested the bonds, but her knots were airtight. I was entirely at her mercy.

Wendy leaned her weight against my chest, propping her elbow on my ribs and resting her chin in her palm, grinning down at me. "Before you arrived, I received a new toy in the mail. I was desperate to try it out, but my main submissive wasn't available. So, I had to call for a substitute. Aren't you curious to see what I've prepared? Don't get up. I'll take you to the main event."

She grabbed the bottom rim of the cart and shoved it forward. The wheels squeaked as she wheeled me down the hall, pushing me straight into the master bedroom.

My eyes widened. Tied spread-eagled across our queen-sized bed was my friend, Mark. A thick ball gag choked his mouth, keeping his jaw stretched wide in a permanent, helpless gape. Strands of thick saliva trailed down his chin.

At the foot of the bed sat a small black electronic box, with black wires snaking across the sheets and trailing directly to Mark's groin. Two conductive rubber bands were clamped tightly around his swollen, heavily engorged shaft. It was purple, engorged to breaking point, and visibly throbbing with every beat of his racing pulse.

Wendy smiled triumphantly, looking down at me. "That is my new TENS unit. You boys have a wretched habit of going soft when I leave you alone for too long. This delightful little machine solves that problem permanently. I can vary the frequency and current at will, which will keep you painfully hard, or punish your cocks until you scream. Servant over there has been locked in a state of perpetual, agonizing readiness for two hours now."

I turned my head, staring at Mark in horror and fascination. He was drenched in sweat, his chest heaving, muscles locked in agonizing tension. Prominent, angry blue veins ridged his purple shaft. Every few seconds, his dick spasmed, and a muffled, wretched moan escaped behind his ball-gag.

"Lucky for me," Wendy purred, pulling a second set of adhesive leads and bands from her pocket, "I bought dual channels. You boys do know I liked my matched sets."

With a chuckle, she leaned over me, her perfume mixing with the musk of our sweat. Without warning, she wrapped the first rubber band tightly around the base of my swollen balls, and the second directly beneath my weeping glans. My cock sprang instantly to attention, iron-hard and hypersensitive. She plugged the electrode leads into the bands and turned to the control unit on the nightstand.

I closed my eyes, bracing for the unknown.

ZZZzzzt.

My eyes shot wide open as the first electric pulse slammed into my shaft. It wasn't just a shock; it was a deep, invasive, bone-shaking vibration that bypassed my brain and wired straight to my groin.

"Oh, look at that," Wendy chuckled darkly. "Your little toy is waking up."

ZZZzzzt.

Another wave of current ripped through my nerves. I instinctively jerked upward, trying to pull my legs away from the phantom agony, but the ties held me fast.

Wendy leaned down, her lips brushing my ear. "And if you misbehave... this happens."

She reached out and cranked the dial.

ZZZZZZZTTTT! ZZZZZZZTTTT!

"AUGH!" I shrieked around the crop in my mouth. It felt like a swarm of hornets was driving red-hot needles directly into my shaft. Across the room, Mark let out a muffled, high-pitched scream of pure torture, his body bowing violently off the mattress as the full force of the current coursed through him. We thrashed in unison, trapped in our respective cages of electricity and rope, our dicks burning with white-hot torment.

The shock subsided as Wendy dialed the intensity down to a steady, rhythmic hum. She reached down, gently slid the riding crop from my mouth, and dragged the tip across my chest, flicking my hard nipple before tapping the head of my weeping cock.

ZZZzzzt.

"There. A manageable baseline," she whispered, her voice laced with sadistic affection. "You'll stay hard, Dildo Whore. You won't be able to get soft while I'm gone. If you think you're getting any relief today, you're out of your mind. Mark can tell you all about how much fun we've had so far. The timer is set for 30 minutes; see you soon."

With a final, mocking pat to my cheek, she turned on her heel, her stiletto heels clicking rhythmically against the tile floor as she walked out of the room. Constantly, the TENS unit pulsed, sending an involuntary shock through my shaft that forced my hips to twitch helplessly. I couldn't soften if my life depended on it. Mark and I lay there in the quiet bedroom, our heavy breathing and wet, ragged gasps filling the space between pulses.

An agonizing time later, the familiar click of heels heralded her return. Wendy walked back into the bedroom holding a glass of white wine in one hand and two small ceramic bowls in the other.

She set one bowl down directly on my bare stomach, right beneath my throbbing, electric-fed erection, and pushed the second bowl against Mark's hips.

"I'm feeling experimental," Wendy announced, leaning against the doorframe with a wicked smile. "For future play sessions, I need to know your exact thresholds. Just how much voltage can you take before you shatter? Let's find out which of my pets can resist this machine the longest. Whoever cums first will fill your little bowl... and then you'll eat it as a penalty."

She leaned closer, her eyes flashing. "Don't knock your bowls over, or the voltage goes straight to maximum. You were at level 3. Let's step it up to level 4. Any questions?"

Without waiting for an answer, she twisted the dials.

ZZZzzzt! ZZZzzzt!

The current increased in intensity and frequency. My dick throbbed furiously, trapped in a relentless loop of forced arousal. I turned my head to look at Mark; his skin was flushed crimson, muscles corded with strain as he fought desperately against the edge of climax.

ZZZzzzt! ZZZzzzt!

"Oh, fuck..." I groaned, my back arching off the hard plastic of the trolley as my hips bucked blindly against empty air, searching for friction that wasn't there. Mark was crying openly now, his muffled whimpers echoing off the walls. I would never have suspected being forced to be hard would be so agonizing.

Wendy giggled, completely enraptured by our collective breaking point. "Oh, this is delicious. You're both melting. TA-TA, see you soon."

She stepped away from the bed, leaving us to marinate in our torment.

ZZZzzzt! ZZZzzzt!

Fifteen minutes stretched into eternity. When she returned, she held the wine glass in one hand and a small black funnel behind her back. She leaned over the control unit, her breasts pressing into view, and smiled down at me. "Level 4 clearly isn't finishing the job. Let's see how you handle level 5."

ZZZZZZZzzzt! ZZZZZZZzzzt!

"FUCK! AHHH!" I screamed. The voltage was pure madness. My mind fractured under the waves of intense, agonizing pleasure. My hips pumped frantically in a desperate, pathetic rhythm.

Suddenly, a loud, ragged shriek tore from Mark's throat. His body locked into a violent, rigid bow, his spine arching inches off the mattress. His cock swelled to twice its normal thickness, violently spasming as his body betrayed him.

SQUIRT. A thick rope of hot, pearlescent semen erupted from his purple cock, shooting high into the air before splashing down across his own chest and face.

Wendy laughed aloud, clapping her hands softly. "Ah! Servant loses the contest!" She turned the evil TENS back down to level 3.

Mark's dick continued to pulse in agonizing, rhythmic aftershocks, milking the last drops of thick jism into the ceramic bowl resting against his groin. Wendy walked over, placed her fingers at the base of his swollen shaft, and firmly stripped it upward like a tube of toothpaste, ensuring every last drop was squeezed into the bowl. She wiped her sticky fingers directly across his gagged mouth.

"Delicious," she murmured. "So, level 5 triggers the climax. Good to know for future reference."

She brought out the funnel. Unbuckling Mark's ball-gag, it popped out with a wet snap, accompanied by a heavy string of saliva.

"Mistress, please, no..." Mark panted, gasping for air.

"Silence, Servant. You lost the game. Here is your prize and your punishment," Wendy commanded, pressing the narrow end of the funnel firmly between his lips. He clamped his mouth shut, but she slapped his cheek hard, forcing his jaw open and sliding the plastic deep into his throat.

Without hesitation, she lifted the bowl containing his own freshly harvested seed and poured it directly into the funnel. I watched in fascinated horror as Mark's throat convulsed violently, swallowing every thick drop of his own discharge down his windpipe.

Wendy tapped the empty bowl against the funnel. "There. A good sub cleans his plate."

"May I... may I rest now, Mistress?" Mark choked out, tears streaming down his face.

"Oh, absolutely not," Wendy purred, leaning down to lock the ball-gag back into his mouth with a sharp buckle. "It's rude to eat and run. Besides... Dildo Whore hasn't earned his dinner yet."

She stood up, smoothing her corset, and cast one final, lingering look down at my twitching, over-stimulated body. "While you two focus on your little task, I'm going to order a pizza. Let's hope the delivery driver is on time... you know how much I hate waiting."

With a final twist of the dial on the TENS unit, she turned and walked out of the room.

ZZZZZzzztt.