Jardonn's Erotic Tales

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BALANCE BEAM

 by Jardonn

 Part One - Question Asked 

"Has he talked?"

"Not yet," was the answer to Mr. S, the fat man in charge of the interrogation. He walked to within three feet of his victim, John Harper, who was suspended by his wrists and stripped to his underwear. "Well, I guess you'll have to soften him up some more."

Mr. S stepped aside and motioned to his lead henchman, Bruno, to resume the punishment. Bruno had removed his shirt during the previous session, revealing the hairy, barreled chest on his 5'8" frame. He waved over one of his cronies, who moved behind Harper and secured him by holding the man's thighs while pressing into the victim's back with his shoulder. Then Bruno went to work. He began methodically punching Harper's belly with his meaty fists--first to the left of the navel, then to the right. The pattern of blows was continued a little lower each time, moving down towards the briefs, which had been lowered to just above the man's pubic hair. Harper, held like a boxer's heavy bag, groaned and grunted with each devastating blow to his exposed abdominal muscles. Bruno's powerful arms continued pounding the belly to a pulp for nearly three minutes before Mr. S interjected.

"That's enough!"

Bruno and his helper stepped aside. As Harper's legs were released he drew them up to his waist, trying to alleviate the pain. After he relaxed them Mr. S approached.

"Bruno has worked up quite a sweat pounding on you, Mr. Harper. You are the one who controls your fate here. Why don't you tell me the code and the beating will stop."

"I don't know any codes," Harper gasped.

"I know that you do and we will get it from you sooner or later. There's something you should know."

Mr. S lightly placed his finger in Harper's navel and slowly moved it down the man's fur trail as he continued. "Each torture is but a prelude and preparation for the next. Things are only going to get worse for you, so why don't you talk now and save us all this trouble?"

Harper mustered all the saliva he could and spit directly into his tormentor's face. Mr. S calmly took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the gob away. Then he gave the order.

"Strip him!"

Bruno grabbed the man's briefs and yanked down until they fell to the floor. Harper expanded his chest and glared at his tormentors with defiance. He was hoping to conceal the humiliation he felt -- the humiliation of having his manhood exposed and vulnerable.

"Take him to the beam!"

Harper was released from his chains and carried to the next torture.

The beam was just that, a standard balance beam used in gymnastics. Attached to either side on one end were two iron rings that opened. Into these Harper's ankles were placed and the rings clamped shut. Then he was laid horizontally face up on the beam and his wrists locked into rings that were attached by chains leading to the floor. On the floor were cranks used to tighten the chains. Harper's wrists were even with his head, causing his arms and shoulders to form a "U" shape. Bruno placed his fingers under the man's rib cage and pulled toward the end of the beam, stretching him lengthwise. Then two cronies tightened the chains from the floor, which pulled Harper's arms down and caused his chest to rise into the air. Now his belly was stretched tightly and Mr. S approached.

"Now Mr. Harper, look at yourself. Chained and helpless, stripped of everything, your entire body is at our mercy. Since I hate violence, I won't ask Bruno what he plans to do to you. I find the whole thing too revolting."

"I wish I could get my hands around your fat throat," Harper was defiant. "I'd show you some real violence."

"Your threats seem meaningless Mr. Harper, considering your predicament. Your best play would be to give me the code before you get hurt."

Harper raised his head to look over his chest down to the rings securing his ankles. Lowering his head back to the beam he let out a long sigh, turning his head from the chubby antagonizer.

"Very well Bruno, he's all yours." With that Mr. S left the room.

During this conversation Bruno had prepared the instrument of torture. It was a platform, underneath which were four 12 inch dowel rods. It was attached to a frame with rollers, which together formed a "C" shape. Bruno had wheeled the device under the beam causing the platform to rest just above Harper's belly. A crank was turned and the platform began to lower. As it did the dowel rods soon were touching the victim, two on either side of his navel four inches apart and two one inch below his navel. Bruno continued to turn the crank and the pressure grew.

Harper began to groan, as the dowel rods ground into his belly muscles. Soon he was trying to draw up his legs, but his feet were firmly secured. His arms pulled on the chains and he arched his back trying to alleviate the pressure. But Bruno drove the rods deep into Harper's belly and the poor helpless man groaned and grunted, writhing in agony. Bruno left the platform at that pressure to continue the torture. He got directly in Harper's face and asked, "Will you talk?" No answer. "What is the code?"

"I...don't...know."

Bruno returned to the platform and turned the crank one more revolution. Now Harper let out a mighty groan each time he exhaled. His feet were in a convulsive frenzy, toes curling forward and arching back. He tried to raise his chest and suck in his gut to avoid the punishing rods, but he was stretched too tightly. Bruno expertly turned the crank to lower the rods in small increments each time Harper exhaled and his middle section lowered. The pace of the torture victim's breathing increased as the dowel rods slowly pulverized his stretched belly muscles to a pulp.

Finally Bruno raised the platform and stopped the torture. "That's enough for now. We'll let him think about it for awhile."

Harper's chest and diaphragm were heaving as he tried to regain oxygen. Every muscle in his body had been flexed as he tried to withstand the assault. Now he lay exhausted on the torture beam. Soon all his thoughts were overtaken by the pain in his lower abdominal muscles. They had been beaten to a pulp with fists to make him more vulnerable to this torture. All he could feel was the piercing pain where the rods had been.

Soon, out of the shadows four men approached clad only in underwear. They began to taunt and torment the poor man. One tugged at the hair under his armpits, another began to lightly pinch his nipples, a third pulled at the hair on his two great toes, while a fourth tugged at the hair on his belly. Harper struggled to raise his head to witness this torment. He groaned at the humiliation of it all, the thought of his entire body being at their mercy. To make matters worse, he saw that they all had boners inside their shorts. "Get these creeps away from me!"

"Does this mean you're ready to talk?" Bruno asked.

"There's nothing to say," Harper groaned.

"Then I can't help you."

The men now changed their attack to running their fingertips all over the man's body. Harper squirmed and pulled on the chains binding him, trying to escape the taunting. He feared one of them would soon touch his genitals, but none did. Every other body part was now being relentlessly attacked with full hand rubs, two men standing on each side of their victim. Having men touch him this way filled him with rage. "Leave me alone, you bastards!"

Bruno interrupted, "So you would prefer the other torture? Very well then, we shall resume."

Bruno returned to the platform as the tormentors returned back into the shadows. And again the rods drove into Harper's belly. Bruno had moved the platform slightly so that the dowel rods would grind into new sections of muscle. Harper again groaned and grunted as he was racked with pain. Slowly the same agonizing pressure was reached and Bruno asked the man to talk.

"Will you give me the code?"

"What...code?"

Bruno took his hand and slapped Harper hard on his heaving chest. "Talk, damn you!"

"None of your...tortures...will break me."

"In time you will break Harper. And we have all the time we need to work you over."

With that Bruno raised the platform and motioned to his cronies to return to their duties.

This would be the pattern for one solid hour: five minutes of belly torture followed by five minutes of humiliation. Each time the question was asked, Harper replied with defiance or not at all. Mr. S entered the room and summoned Bruno.

"Have we made any progress?" he asked.

"Now he claims our tortures will never break him."

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 Part Two - Personal Attack

Mr. S walked to the beam and placed his hand on Harper's tummy. He slowly massaged the muscles and looked down on them with admiration. Then he inserted the blunt end of an ink pen into the man's navel and began to slowly twist it back and forth.

Harper raised his head, trying to get a look at this latest torment. "Where have you been, fatso? You've missed all the action."

"You are very strong Mr. Harper." He continued taunting the man with light pressure from the pen into the man's belly button.

"I must tell you however, that you cannot win. Once again, we have only prepared you for the next torture. You see, we have found that another effective method of extracting information is to attack a man's masculinity. Let me introduce you to my friend Martina. She has a certain fascination with a man's feet. You have fine manly feet Mr. Harper, and I'm sure Martina will enjoy exploiting them in their helpless state. Bruno, turn on the lights and bring her in."

As Mr. S removed the pen and stepped back, Martina entered the room completely nude and set up shop at the end of the beam. She grabbed Harper's toes and bent them back, arching his left foot. Taking a small-toothed metal comb she scraped the sole of his defenseless foot. Harper looked up over his chest to see what was happening. He tried to jerk his foot away from this tickling sensation, but in vain. Martina then took four tiny alligator clips and placed them in between the toes of Harper's right foot. The pain was minimal, and somehow the feeling was slightly erotic to him. Soon she was back at the left foot, bending back his toes and licking up and down the sole and in between his toes. Harper fought the idea, but he felt slightly aroused.

Harper looked up again to watch her working over his feet. She was eagerly attacking his left foot with her tongue, while scraping the sole and heel of his right. Periodically she would twist one of the alligator clips to remind him that they were still in between his toes. Harper relaxed his head back to the beam and closed his eyes. He began arching his masculine feet for the woman, voluntarily offering them up for her to worship. Soon his thoughts were interrupted.

"Next I want you to meet Gertrude. She loves working on men's nipples. She scoffs at the idea that only women like to have their nipples worshipped, and she's determined to disprove that notion."

Gertrude also was naked and quite voluptuous. She stood by Harper's powerful chest and laid a tiny "C" clamp on it. She lightly scraped his left nipple with her long fingernail, then placed and tightened the clamp on his right. Harper pulled at the chains securing his wrists, flexing the muscles in his chest. He raised his head to witness her tormenting his stretched and defenseless nipples as they protruded high into the air. He looked first at the clamp torturing his right nipple, then at her polished nail tormenting his left.

The sensation this created was something new to him. He had never had his nipples stimulated this way and was confused by what was happening. Pulsations of manliness began to rage inside him. Now he looked past his left nipple to scrutinize Gertrude's naked body from head to toe. When he saw her beauty, coupled with the sensation in his nipples and Martina still working on his now saliva-drenched feet, his arousal began to take control. He tried to change his train of thought, but it was too late. He started to become erect.

Gertrude began to work on his left nipple with her lips and tongue. Harper unconsciously expanded and raised his chest, offering his stretched and manly nipples for her to torture. Now his erection became total. His penis rose and flipped over onto his belly.

"Mr. Harper I have another friend named Juliette. She's heard of the terrible things we've been doing to your belly, and since that's what she admires most in a man, she's coming to comfort you."

Juliette entered sans clothing and rushed to the chained man. She immediately began kissing and licking his flattened middle section. "You poor man," she moaned. "What have they done to your beautiful belly? You are so strong to withstand such torture. Why don't you tell them what they want to know and stop this madness? I can't bear to see you suffer this way."

Harper's penis was now rock-hard. Juliette had to hold it aside to continue worshipping his belly. Pre-cum had oozed into his navel and she eagerly lapped it up. Feeling her soft hand clutching his dick nearly drove him crazy. Meanwhile, Martina and Gertrude were working hard on the body parts they adored.

Harper could feel that he was getting close to orgasm. If only Juliette would move her gentle hand to the head of his cock, he knew he would cum. Unbeknownst to him, however, Bruno was preparing a machine that would be the focal point of the next torture: a milking maching! Bruno grabbed the man's penis from Juliette and placed a lubricated sheath over the head and down to the base, covering the entire organ. Harper felt Bruno's rough hand on him and looked up to see the apparatus. "What are you doing to me? You sick bastard!"

"Now Mr. Harper," Mr. S interjected. "My girls can't work on their favorite parts and suck your dick at the same time. We'll let this machine do the work. Just lay back, relax and enjoy it."

Bruno turned on the machine. Harper's penis was forced to stand straight up as the oiled sheath sucked on him. The women continued working on the man's exposed body, licking and kissing his feet and belly, sucking and pinching his nipples. Harper tried to fight it, but the lubricated sucking action of the milking machine and the expertise and beauty of his tormentors made his masculine feelings rise to a fever pitch. Soon, he was writhing in ecstasy, flexing his muscles to exhibit his manliness. He puffed up his chest and looked at his nipples, one was being pinched, the other being licked and sucked. He gazed at Gertrude's beautiful breasts and that was it. His load was enormous as it burst into the machine. He groaned with sheer pleasure as his penis contracted again and again to expel its cum. Finally, it was over and Harper was spent. The machine colleted his cum into a bottle, which was then set on a table.

The temptresses continued working on their favorite erogenous zones.

After the orgasm, Harper's cock initially started to soften, but the sensations caused by the ladies wouldn't allow it. Soon he was fully hard again and the milking machine was activated to resume its purpose. It took longer, but Harper reached orgasm and his cum once more collected in a second bottle.

The vixens backed off to catch their breath, but Mr. S waved them to continue. They resumed their positions and went to work, but this time all of Bruno's helpers who had been waiting patiently joined the party. Two of them started licking Harper's armpits; one helped Gertrude work on his nipples, as she removed the clamp; one began sucking and nibbling his testicles; the others ran their tongues up and down his legs.

Harper felt the extra attackers and looked to see that the men had joined the assault. "Get the hell away from me!" Harper shouted.

Mr. S laughed. "Oh, calm down. At this point what difference does it make who's doing what to you? Close your eyes and enjoy it."

The tormenting machine continued to suck. Harper soon came again. In the next hour he came five more times. He no longer had control of his body or his thoughts. His eyes were closed, as each series of assaults would cause him to writhe in pure pleasure, until he shot another load into the machine. The humiliation of the process, the pain in his arched back and stretched belly, all were outweighed by the erotic ecstasy of the experts worshipping his body and the sucking of the machine. Another orgasm.

As the machine went silent Mr. S approached. He waved off the tormentors and they stepped away from the beam. "Are you enjoying this, Mr. Harper? This is far preferable to torture, don't you think?"

"This  is  torture."

"No, this is pure pleasure for you. See, I am good to you because I know you really want to give me the code. Are you ready to get off again?"

"You've drained me," Harper sighed with exhaustion.

"Did you know that sperm makes an excellent fertilizer? My rose plants have won the state championship three years in a row. My secret is men's sperm. I can't masturbate as often as I used to, so I thought I'd use your cum to restock my supply. Are you ready yet?"

"I told you I'm drained, you sick fuck!"

Now the interrogator rammed his forefinger into Harper's navel and pressed down hard. "You will cum as often as I desire. We will drain you again and again until we are bored with it. Seeing all these juices dripped on the floor, I don't think we will tire of you anytime soon. Everyone here is pretty excited about your powerful physique."

Harper let out a slight whimper as the sense of helplessness consumed him.

"How does it feel to be forced to have orgasms against your will? To have your entire body exploited by my underlings?"

Harper looked about the room, scrutinizing all those surrounding him who were waiting to taunt and torment his chained, defenseless body. Would none of them show mercy for him? Surely one of them would begin to tire of seeing him suffer so and take pity.

"This is what I meant when I said we would attack your masculinity. Perhaps you think you are more man than we can handle, but I assure you that you are wrong. You can continue trying to withstand my tortures or you can give me the code. The choice is yours. Which is it?"

Harper clenched his teeth and looked away.

Mr. S lifted his finger from Harper's belly button. "We're going to take a break. When we return you will know the true meaning of pain and pleasure."

And with that everyone left the room.

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 Part 3 -- Putting It Together

John Harper was totally alone. He looked at his spent penis, now limp and still engulfed by the sheath of the milking machine. He thought about all that had been done to him. How could any man withstand such torture? Even he was a little amazed at how many times he had cum, but he wondered how much more he would be forced to give. And what more could they possibly do to his body that hadn't already been done? Feeling the urge to piss, he let go a long stream. The pressure caused the sheath to pop off and the remaining urine ran onto his leg and down to the floor. He felt satisfied that he had somehow fought back.

Harper heard the door open and watched as the entourage entered the room. Now everyone was naked and all the men had erections. Some were carrying buckets. Even Bruno and Mr. S were stripped to join the onslaught.

"Oh, I see you finally had to go. We were wondering how long you could hold it. I guess your dick has been too busy to think about other functions. Gertrude, give him a drink of water."

She gently raised the man's head and served him ice cold water from a large cup. Mr. S ordered a cleanup, while Bruno attached a new sheath to the hose on the milking machine. Juliette mopped up the floor and the others approached Harper with their buckets.

Mr. S slapped him on the chest. "Have you decided what you want to do, Mr. Harper? Give me more cum or give me the code." He grabbed Harper's penis and gave it a loving squeeze.

"Get on with it."

"Very well then, clean him up."

And with that, they all emptied their buckets onto Harper's exposed body. Ice water! Harper howled in shock as he was drenched with the freezing liquid.

"Now lick him dry and let's continue."

Ten tongues began to run over his entire body. Gertrude began licking his face and soon was burying her tongue deep into his mouth. As his penis began to harden, Bruno covered it with the new sheath and turned on the milking machine. Soon all the men started to masturbate.

Then Mr. S ordered the unspeakable. "Torture his belly!"

Bruno rolled over the platform, strategically positioning it so that one of the rods entered directly into Harper's navel. Soon the dowel rods were again pulverizing Harper's belly muscles. He was being licked, sucked, pinched, kissed, belly tortured, and masturbated on all at the same time. The rod grinding into his navel created ungodly pain. Harper strained against the chains that bound him, while every inch of his body was worked over. Soon cum was landing on his chest, stomach and legs from every direction. Bruno turned the crank. The unholy torture rods ground into his belly deeper, deeper, deeper until Harper jerked his head away from Gertrude and let out a mighty groan.

"Stop...torturing...my...belly!"

Mr. S grabbed Harper by the neck with his stubby fingers. "Only you can stop your torture Harper. Tell me the code."

Gasping for air, Harper moaned a gutteral response, "I...will...never...talk."

Mr. S released the grip on his victim's neck. For the first time all day Mr. S showed frustration. "I want everyone except Bruno to move away from the beam," he barked.

The tormentors stepped back to watch Harper suffer. His body writhed, each muscle flexing to withstand the assault on his abdomen. Somehow, he managed to arch his back and raise his chest even higher to relieve the pressure. All the while, the machine mercilessly sucked on his powerfully throbbing cock.

Mr. S motioned to Bruno. He turned the crank one full revolution, seemingly driving the torture rods completely through the man.

Harper screamed in agony, as the rods pierced into his belly muscles. He managed to raise his head to see his body writhing in agony. He could see that no skin had been broken, but the rod penetrating his navel pushed him over the edge. With one glare of defiance at all of his tormentors, he let go one last manly groan and collapsed on the beam. As he lost consciousness, the machine extracted one more load from his incredible penis.

Bruno raised the platform and rolled it away from the beam. Then, he removed the sheath from Harper's dick and took the hose to the table, where the machine and all the man's sperm was being kept.

Now the entire entourage approached the beam amazed at what they were witnessing. Their still unconscious victim lay stretched across the beam with his penis semi-erect and lying on the tortured belly. Gobs of sperm dotted and dripped from his tormented body. His head was turned to one side and, even though his muscles were now relaxed from his passing out, the stretching of his body showed every well-defined line of strength.

Everyone was astounded that he had withstood all the punishment they had given him. He had defied them, despite unspeakable torture and humiliation. They had tried to dominate and control his masculinity, but he had answered every assault on his manhood with one huge load after another. This man was amazing. Perhaps he  was  more man than they could handle.

Mr. S was at the table admiring his new supply of sperm. He looked across the room at his victim. "He's not going to die is he? Gertrude you better see if you can revive him."

Gertrude cradled the man's limp head in her hands. She lightly tapped his cheeks to see if she could get a response. As Harper began to return to consciousness, he verbalized something under his labored breath. Gertrude put her ear close to his lips to hear him repeat in a whisper, "P 7...3 H 5. P...7...3 H 5."

Mr. S saw the lips move. "What did he say?"

"I think he just gave the code."

The fat man grabbed an ink pen and ran towards the beam. "What did he say?!"

Gertrude motioned Mr. S to come closer and she whispered to him. Writing the answer on the palm of his hand, he asked again, "Are you sure?"

"He said it twice."

Mr. S stepped back from his prisoner. Then he shook his head in amazement. He was more than impressed how this powerful man had withstood such horrendous torture, but Harper's mind had finally given up the information in order to save his racked body.

No one but the interrogator knew what would have happened next. No man had ever taken Mr. S this far before. As he headed for the door, the fat man turned to give one last order.

"Release him and clean him up. Do not allow him to regain consciousness."

A handkerchief soaked in ether was placed over Harper's nose and mouth. One hour later the authenticity of the code had been confirmed.

When John Harper awoke, he was sitting in his car fully clothed. He recognized the parking garage where he had been taken prisoner. Starting his car, he exited the garage and began the drive home to his wife and children, wondering why they had released him.

 The End

Copyright ©2004

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