Straight Male / 35
Didn't See THAT Cumming
I live in an apartment complex, and one day a quiet knock on my door, revealed the two plump nerds from the unit next to mine, grinning, and holding out a package that had been torn open.
"Sorry - we opened this in error, wrongly delivered...but we were fascinated by the contents, and wanted to talk to you about it! Can we come in?" They almost gently moved me aside and made themselves comfortable on my sofa. I felt like some minimal hospitality was called for, and got some beers from the fridge.
"We're ab-psych students, at the Uni...and well, we'd like to uh, interview you, about the uh, implications of this expensive piece of work you bought...would you answer a few questions? For our research...?"
I wasn't keen but two beers on an empty stomach, loosened my inhibitions, and led me to say "Sure..hell, I'll even give you a demonstration, if you like..." regretting this the moment I said it.
"Oh man, that would be awesome! Can you? Can we...uh, help in any way? Be happy to..."
So a few hectic minutes later, I stood naked, totally enclosed in the cool, soon to be dripping with sweat, rubber, and told them what needed to happen next...it did, and suddenly, I was totally helpless, and feeling both foolish and frightened, although my traitorous cock was poking a tent in the front of the heavy rubber-lined canvas, to their murmured approval, and quiet amusement.
Now gently pushed over into my recliner, and the main zipper at the mouth of the bag being worked shut, all the way...making escape impossible without their help, which was beginning to look less and less likely, they informed me happily, that I really ought to call that zipper the "Doomsday zipper" laughing quietly.
"Research time, pal...we're going to try to prove a theory that it is actually possible to be "wanked to death" or at least to insanity...we feel there's a paper in it, somewhere..."
Many hours later, I was begging for it to stop, while they assured me I had at least one more really good one in me...and the mind and will-sapping torture resumed, with delicate precision and attention to detail...
"You really want it to stop? "
"Yes! No! I don't know! Don't make ME decide! I can't stop you, whatever you decide to do..."
I gasped, acknowledging the obvious truth of my plight.
"And how do you feel about that? Describe your most powerful emotion! Then maybe we'll let you cum, though we'd really like to prolong this uh, session over the entire weekend, to be honest....in fact we've decided that's what we're going to do!" Sorry, but that's the way it's going to be, like it or not...." So, babble away, and add to our research, and maybe we'll go easy on you...maybe not...after all there's absolutely nothing to stop us face-fucking you over the whole weekend, turn about...sounds good doesn't it? Man it's your lucky day!"
"Sorry - we opened this in error, wrongly delivered...but we were fascinated by the contents, and wanted to talk to you about it! Can we come in?" They almost gently moved me aside and made themselves comfortable on my sofa. I felt like some minimal hospitality was called for, and got some beers from the fridge.
"We're ab-psych students, at the Uni...and well, we'd like to uh, interview you, about the uh, implications of this expensive piece of work you bought...would you answer a few questions? For our research...?"
I wasn't keen but two beers on an empty stomach, loosened my inhibitions, and led me to say "Sure..hell, I'll even give you a demonstration, if you like..." regretting this the moment I said it.
"Oh man, that would be awesome! Can you? Can we...uh, help in any way? Be happy to..."
So a few hectic minutes later, I stood naked, totally enclosed in the cool, soon to be dripping with sweat, rubber, and told them what needed to happen next...it did, and suddenly, I was totally helpless, and feeling both foolish and frightened, although my traitorous cock was poking a tent in the front of the heavy rubber-lined canvas, to their murmured approval, and quiet amusement.
Now gently pushed over into my recliner, and the main zipper at the mouth of the bag being worked shut, all the way...making escape impossible without their help, which was beginning to look less and less likely, they informed me happily, that I really ought to call that zipper the "Doomsday zipper" laughing quietly.
"Research time, pal...we're going to try to prove a theory that it is actually possible to be "wanked to death" or at least to insanity...we feel there's a paper in it, somewhere..."
Many hours later, I was begging for it to stop, while they assured me I had at least one more really good one in me...and the mind and will-sapping torture resumed, with delicate precision and attention to detail...
"You really want it to stop? "
"Yes! No! I don't know! Don't make ME decide! I can't stop you, whatever you decide to do..."
I gasped, acknowledging the obvious truth of my plight.
"And how do you feel about that? Describe your most powerful emotion! Then maybe we'll let you cum, though we'd really like to prolong this uh, session over the entire weekend, to be honest....in fact we've decided that's what we're going to do!" Sorry, but that's the way it's going to be, like it or not...." So, babble away, and add to our research, and maybe we'll go easy on you...maybe not...after all there's absolutely nothing to stop us face-fucking you over the whole weekend, turn about...sounds good doesn't it? Man it's your lucky day!"
- That's Juicy! 2
- Remove It! 15
