Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Mm, rubber, cons, breath control, medical procedure, gut punching

   I have decided to complete the last segment of the story series next. 
The Following story is TRUE, names have been changed, and some details
slightly embellished to make it better reading.  I have merged both the
story of my good friend {Nelson} and mine.  Any dialoge has either an N in
front for Nelson, or an M for master (that is me).  I had meant to write
and post these stories in the order of their occurrence, but you would be
surprised how busy you get when you have a hunky boy to play with ;)

   *** Warning *** I received extensive training on some of the medical
procedures that I performed.  DO NOT ATTEMPT!!  *** Warning ***

   Installment thirteen: part d: (Late August/Early September 2010)



   [from part c]

   I walked to the door, turned off the light, and closed the door behind
me.  I needed a nap too.

   [master] It was only 5 oclock, but i was beat.  I sank on the recliner
in front of the tv, and passed out pretty quick.

   [boy]

   master was right, i was beat, and glad to be laying down.  Soon, i felt
my eyes close, and sleep took me.

   ...  I woke.  suddenly coming to conciousness to where i was.  Then i
tested the restrains and quickly remembered my neoprene bound situation.  I
was not sure what day it was, but i figured that it was probably already
sunday.  The dungeon was totally dark, and no matter how hard my eyes tried
to penetrate the darkness, there was nothing to see.  I did however
suddenly became aware of how thirsty i was, and the fact that I needed to
pee pretty bad, and that i was really hot.  Then i remembered that i could
just let it go.  I relaxed, and let my my blather go.  It flowed freely out
of me, suddenly hearing a drip below me as the tube carried my urine away.
Then i also noticed that i needed to releive my bowels, and then i
remembered that i could also let go of that, with out fear of making a
mess. I relaxed, and i felt the pressure of my but drain away.

   With nothing to do there in the dark dungeon i thought about how
confortable it actually was to not having to do anything to releive
yourself.  I was a bit hot, but nothing too terrible.  I was however really
horny.  I tested my cocoon by trying to buck my hips, as i had done the
previous time i was thus bound.  However i found that i met with almost no
stimulation that way.  It figured that master would come up with something
as devious as this.  He had literally encased my dick away from any
estimulation, and thus made it incredibly unlikely that i would come.  both
horrible but wonderfully kinky.

   I heard a sound ouside the dungeon.  Was my rest about to end?  on
second though perhaps it was best that nothing changed.  I was sure that
master would rain unthinkable tortures upon me once he came back.  I listen
intently to the sound, but no new sound came.  I tried to force my bonds,
to see if by any chance i would be able to free myself, but there was no
give in them.

   It seemed like it had been an eternity when finally I heard master
definitely walking down the stairs, and in short order the door opened with
what i thought was blinding light.

   M == close your eyes boy, lights are coming on.

   [master] I woke up in front of the tv, sleepy and still a bit drousy.  I
closed my eyes again, and rested again, but i did not quite fell back
aslkeep.  I made the mistake of thinking about the boy downstairs, and
instantly my dick was rock hard.  No sleeping like that.

   I opened my eyes again, and looked at the clock, and saw that it was
just past nine oclock, and dark outside.  I stretched, and then jumpted to
action.  It was time for fun.

   [boy] I had barely enough time to do so, before the room became flooded
with light.  Even though i had my eyes closed, the light that penetrated by
eyelids was blinding.  Though slowly my eyes adapted.  Before i could open
my eyes however, i felt master working over me.  undoing the bindings and
tugging my legs over the edge of the cot, and i swung until i was in a
sitting position.

   when i finally got used enough to the light to peer into master's face,
i inmediately knew i was in for it.  I had seen that face before.

   master disconnected the iv tubes from the bottles.  He also sealed my
pee tube and the buttplug tube.  He felt my body, though i sensed, not to
arouse me or himself, but to check something.  What ever it was, as soon as
he was satisfied, he took the leader cuffs that he had used on me in
previous sessions and began to put them on me.  No words exchanged, no
commands given.

   He finished with my right arm, and moved to the left arm.  He took a
carabiner and clicped the ring at the end of the cuffs together, forcing my
arms together in front of me.  Then he took the snowboots that were lying
on the side of the cot, and put them in front of me.

   M == feet in them boy!  Now

   I complied quicly.  The neoprene socks i had on made for a tight fit,
but applying my full weight, pushed each of my feet into them.  master
wasted no time to use the ratchet mechanism on the boots to fasten them
around the feet, and very quickly i was bound to them.  master must have a
specific goal here, because he was moving quickly and with purpose.  A
purpose that i began to dread.  so far, though extreme the treatment for
the weekend had been gentle, was this about to change?

   [master] I reached for another wooden board that i had.  This board had
another set of snowboot bindings in it, so i placed it under the ceiling
hook.

   M == Boy!, come here

   The boy walked over, encumbered by the boots, but also slowed by
aprehension.  Good!  I though, time to put some fear in the boy

   When he presented himself in front of me, I pointed to the board with
the bindings

   M == you know what to do boy, boots in the bindings.

   [boy]

   I complied with master's command.  I put a boot on the metal ring
attached to the board, and pressed down.  A loud metallic "Clack" announced
that the boot was now attached to the board.  Then I lifted my free boot,
and steped on the second metal ring, which was over two feet to the right
of the other ring.  I had to fiddle a bit with it, but soon enough, another
"clack" messaged my success.

   master did not wasted any time.  He took the carabiner that held both of
the cuffs together, and raised my arms up to a hook that was hanging from
the pulley in the ceiling, about eye level.

   [master] I reached for the winch, and started cranking.  the ratcheting
sound went on for a while going up and down in pitch as i applied force the
winch handle.  Slowly the carabinner holding together the boys cuffs got
pulled higher and higher.  then it started streching the boy up, as it kept
pulling higher and higher.  with a few more cranks, the boy streched more,
and then the board holding his boots captive lifted from the gound.  I kept
cranking until the boy was a good 6 inches above the ground.

   The boy was swaying a bit.  The thin wetsuit, glued to the skin, allowed
me to see the boy's ripped musculature perfectly.  I locked the winch in
place, and took off my tshirt, and jeans, leaving me only with the
jockstrap.  My dick was throbbing.

   [boy] I was suspended from my arms, and fully exposed.  I looked at
master when he finished winching me off, and saw him strip down to his
jockstrap.  He stepped up to me, made a fist, and tapped me lightly in the
abdomen.  Then again, but a bit harder.  then again harder.  by the fourth
hit i contracted my abbs to better absorve the impact.

   master stepped slightly to one side, and delivered another blow, harder
this time.  then another, and another.  Soon master was delivering a series
of hits, spaced by about 30 seconds or so.  Each time coming back to punch
me on different parts of my gut.

   At first the hits were not too hard, or at least the neoprene layer
dispeserd the energy making them seem weaker.  However master kept turning
up the volume.  I soon lost count of the volleys that he had so far rained
on me, but again and again, he would approach and deliver a series of
punches.  sometimes just three, sometimes up to seven.  Nevertheless I had
to do a hard crunch to protect myself.

   Soon i was breathing hard from the effort.  The air being forced in and
out of my lungs through the tracheal intubation tube made an unatural hizz
as i breathed furiously between barrages.

   [master] The boy was breathing hard, his diafragm heaving up and down,
the thin wetsuit revealing every curbature of his muscular torse.  I took a
mini break to get a quick drink of water.

   I reached under the faucet, and took a gulp of water.

   I turned around, and got back to the boy.  This time i would not hold
back

   [boy] master took a short (too short) of a break, and came back at me
with a vengance.  This time he was hitting me hard, and I had to cruch hard
to protect myself.  I cold not even make a sound to help me.

   master came to my side, and began another barrage, one hit, two hits,
three, four, five...  ten, and finally he releted.  the walked to my other
side, and repeated, eleven this time.  he took a step back, looked at me,
and came to my front.  I was being treated like a punching bag.  Master
started his next barage. . . .

   The punching I felt had gone on forever now.  My abbs were exhausted,
but my master was not.  He kept coming.  I felt really hot, and almost out
of breath.  Each time he would deliver a barrage i had to cruch and not
breath, then catch up with air during the brief interludes.  Now however, i
was getting so tired that I could no longer harden my muscle enough to take
the blow.  In star trek lingo, the shields were failing.

   master came back at me.  a tremendous punch dead center of my belly was
delivered before i could crunch, and it penetrated deep.  master backed off
sensing that he had broken my ability to fend off his punches.  I was
trying desperatedly to say something of emit some kind of noise, but i
could not.  I tried to breath, but breath did not come.  The seconds
passed, util finally i was able to draw a light breath

   M == man up boy, take it like a man!

   [master] I had been delivering an unrelenting onslaught of gut punches
for the better part of an hour, and finally the boy was exhausting to the
point that he was having a hard time absorving the punches.  I needed to
both get his guts well moved, and also exhaust his midsection for the
devious plan that i had for the boy.

   nevertheless this by itself was plenty of fun.  more even, it was highly
arousing.  The boy was almost ready, but not yet.  I waited a few minutes
for the boy to recover, then

   I stepped back up to him.

   [boy] I had barely regain my breath, when i saw master stepping back up
to me, and began his next set of gut punches.  one, two three, uff.  Then
to the side, another seven.  I felt my strength faltering.  more series of
punches came, i kept crunching, though getting weaker. . . .

   [master] The boy was really strong.  He was a formidable athlete, and it
was really amazing that after almost 2 hours of work, he had not broken
yet. It was certainly true that i had backed off at strategic times, to
allow him to regroup, but still, i was impressed.  However i felt that i
had acomplished my goal and it was time to finish this episode.

   I came once more up to the boy, and began delivering fresh punches to
his gut.  I could tell that the intensity of his cruches was but a fraction
of what they used to be, but the boy had not given up trying to protect
himself.

   I moved to his other side with very litle rest in between and began my
next bolley.  I could sense only minimal effort, or should i say minimal
capacity by the boy to protect himself; good

   with almost no rest, i stepped in the middle and began my third bolley
in quick succession.  He took the first punch, with the second punch there
was hardly any contraction, and by the third, there was none.  he was mine
now.

   I moved ever so slightly to my left, and began delivering a punch every
three seconds or so at half power, moving each punch a bit forward.  My
fist found a soft belly, though the boy was still trying to resist.  he did
crunch for one of the punches (I think) but it was an extremely weak one.

   time to change it up i thought to myself.

   Then i delivered a meach upper hook to his groin.  His crotch, unscathed
until now, was quite well cocooned in both the neoprene of the wetsuit, and
in the copious amounts of silicon that i had put inside his speedos, and
now had set, however, a good punch, still had plenty of effect on the boy.
what ever strength was left in his abdomen went to crunch in a vain attempt
to lessen the pain of the blow.  The crunch was febble and short lived.

   I delivered a few more punches for good measure, but the boy was truly
done.  He hang limp, just taking them.

   [boy] I was exhausted.  Master had stopped for the time being, and i had
finally managed to not only catch my breath, but even slow it down.

   M == one more round boy.

   master began to punch me on the stomach again.  I tried to flex my
abdomen, but hardly anything happened.  Masters punches hit me deep, even
though they were not very hard ones.

   then master stopped.

   He walked behind me, and i heard him rummage in a box or something, and
began to walk back towards me.  I closed my eyes, to gather both my
physical and mental strength of what i though was going to be another round
of gutt punches, when i heard a sudden russle behind me.  I opened my eyes,
somewhat surprised, and became very concerned when i realized what the
sound was.

   master was holding a plastic bag and moving towards me to place it it
over my head.

   [master]

   Nelson saw what was coming, and tried to back away, he would have
pleaded if he could, but he could not.  His hands were still tied above his
head, and he was still hanging from them.  I was unmoved; so all told this
was not of much use.  Nelson did manage to thwart my first attempt at
placign the bag over his head, but the delay was minimal.  with in 30
seconds I had popped the bag on over the boy's head, and fastened a belt
around his throat, forming an airtight seal.  Nelson fought to remain calm.
He knew that any struggles, at this point, would only use up his air
faster. But whether by instinct or otherwise, he was soon FORCED to
struggle.  The faster, and more deeply, he breathed, the faster his air
became foul; and the fouler his air became, the faster, and more deeply, he
was forced to breathe.  Soon the plastic bag was covered on the inside with
a film of condensation, and it was alternately billowing out, and then
flattening itself against the boy's gas mask.

   The boy found himself writhing, heaving, all his energy taken up with
breathing, unable to do anything else...  and all the while, I continued
landing more hits on his gut again!

   [boy] just when things were getting totally desperate, master undid the
belt and took the bag off my head, allowing me to breath fresh, wonderfully
fresh air.

   I hanged totally limp from my arms, glad to just be allowed to breath.

   what would be next???