She had numerous, juicy orgasms but, just like in the past, they were never good enough and I had not done a good enough job of pleasuring her. I would have to be punished and punished hard so I would endeavor to do better the next time.

She directed me to the bed and had me lie down, face-up, with my butt nearly hanging off the end and my legs spread wide. She pulled some ropes out of her bag and proceeded to tie my legs to the corners of the bed, pulling on them until they would stretch no more and I felt like I was being split in two. Next, my arms were stretched to the top of the bed and she pulled until I felt like I was on a medieval rack. In less than 5 minutes she had made me completely and totally helpless, unable to move more than an inch in any direction. Her final act in preparing me for her punishments was tying my cock and balls. She made a large loop that encompassed the entire package and pulled it tight. She then proceeded to wind the ends of the rope around and around, separating my cock from my balls and, with each wrap she pulled it tighter and tighter, cutting off all circulation and causing swelling and pain.

“There, pussyboy,” she said. “Now you’re ready for some of Auntie’s loving attention which will make you a better pussy eater and much more obedient to your Auntie’s wishes and desires.”

She slid a pair of red leather gloves over her manicured hands. I already knew the soft kidskin would do a number of things for her. It protected her hands, gave her a better grip and intensified the sting of her blows.

She moved between my legs, getting close enough that her treasure was rubbing against my swollen testicles causing my already hard cock to swell more. She leaned over me, balancing herself against my straining crotch, crushing my bound cock and balls beneath her as her pendulous breasts dangled in front of my eyes. I couldn’t imagine anything more erotic looking.

She took my nipples between her thumb and forefinger and pinched, twisted and pulled on them until tears welled up in my eyes and ran down my cheeks. The pain was excruciating and, even though I could barely stop from screaming, I could feel my cock straining even more against its bonds. Damn, I must have missed the pain more than I thought I did.

She moved a chair to the end of the bed, between my spread-eagled legs, sat down, crossed her nylon-clad legs and, after measuring the distance, started a methodical kicking of my swelling testicles with her Classic Pump shod feet. The pains shot into my belly and I could feel the tender eggs inside my ballsac starting to swell. I also knew that it was going to get a lot worse.

She tired of the kicking after 10 minutes or so and scooted her chair closer to my crotch. I knew the ball beating was coming but I was, as always, unprepared for the first few punches. She was deadly accurate and the pains shot up into my midsection, nearly causing me to get sick. She kept it up very methodically. First the left testicle, then the right…..whack, whack, whack. Harder and harder she punched until, towards the end, she was huffing hard with each blow. I could see her face and the excitement in her eyes as she rained blow after blow on my helpless eggs.

“This is just the start, nephew,” she panted. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this and I am going to enjoy it for months and months and months or until I finally tire of it. You’d better hope I don’t, though, because if that happens, I am going to remove your eggs from their disgusting sack and you will be the eunuch you desire to be. I have always wanted to castrate a man and if you don’t make my stay here a very pleasant one, you’re going to be that man. Hell, I might end up doing it anyway.”

This scared and excited me. She was right. I had posted on the Eunuch Personals site for a woman to torture my testicles until she tired of it and then take them from me. Nothing excited me more than having a woman own my eggs, to do with them whatever excited her. The same with my worthless cock and useless nipples. I’m sure this was a result of my warped childhood but it was what is was. I couldn’t control it and now I had the perfect woman to take that control. I nodded my head and said, “Yes Auntie, whatever you want to do.”

She climbed on the bed and straddled my face, her pussy just inches from my open and waiting mouth. “Don’t you dare let one drop of my golden pee get on this bed you little pussyboy or I’ll have your ass,” she said as her warm nectar filled my mouth and tummy. All I could do is moan as the wonderful, delicious pee made me feel all better.

Chapter Four

The days flew by for me. Auntie’s boxes arrived and she directed where to put them and what to do in her dungeon. It took shape fairly quickly, even though I could only work on it in the evenings and on the weekends. We both left for work every morning and she was always there when I returned in the evening. She usually got home a couple of hours before me and had showered and put on some sort of a sexy outfit, always accompanied by thigh highs and classic pumps. Often, she would be wearing a half slip and no bra, which she knew really had an effect on me.

The first thing I was required to do, as soon as I came in the door, was to lay down on the floor so she could straddle my face and relieve her bladder in my open mouth. I would then lick her clean, sometimes she would smother me while I licked furiously at her delicious pussy, cleaning off the drops of warm pee.

She would then take me down to the dungeon, make me strip naked and tell me the things she wanted done that evening. I would do her bidding and, when I had finished, she would come down and inspect my work. She would, of course, find fault with it and tell me I would have to be punished.

The dungeon was now about 90% finished and it was looking pretty kinky. All of her bdsm furniture and toys had arrived and they were all in place, just where she wanted them. I had painted everything the colors she specified and was finishing up the tile and carpet. The entire theme was black and red. There was a gyno chair with straps for securing me, a couple of potty chairs for me to lay under, benches galore to tie me to for various punishments, numerous eye bolts and winches to secure me with, a cock and ball stand that forced me to stand on my tiptoes while I was totally exposed and helpless, various castration devices including a burdizzo and an elastrator, lots of whips, clubs, mallets, dildos, speculums, etc., for her to play with and a ton of medical equipment, including the largest selection of needles I’d ever seen outside of a hospital.

After a verbal tongue lashing for not doing whatever exactly the way she wanted, she would, most evenings, have me put cuffs on my wrists and ankles. She would then attach the cuffs to some cables in the ceiling and at the bottom of a couple of floor-to-ceiling posts. The cables were attached to small electric winches and she’d use the winches to stretch me out until I could literally not move an inch. My arms and legs would be spread-eagled to the breaking point with my feet about two feet off the floor, putting my crotch at about the level of her chest. I would be totally helpless. An evil grin would be on her face as she pulled on a pair of the skin tight, soft leather gloves. The beatings would last up to an hour. She would always start at my midsection, punching me in the stomach and chest until I was gasping for breath. Next, my back and thighs would be pummeled until they were black and blue. She always would end up, of course, punching my defenseless cock and balls. She would drive endless uppercuts into my swollen eggs, taking occasional breaks to smoke a cigarette and get her breath back. After 15-20 minutes of beating my

cock and balls, she would grab a length of rope and tie them up so tightly that they would start turning purple. The end of the rope was affixed to an eyebolt in the floor and she would stretch my genitals until I thought they were going to be ripped from my body. Then she would start driving straight punch after straight punch into them. All the while, a smile would play across her face. She was having the time of her life and we both knew it.

The beatings would always be followed by her sitting on my face while she emptied her bladder into my mouth, filling my tummy with her sweet, warm pee. It was all I was allowed to drink when I was in the house. She kept a pitcher full of it in the refrigerator and I could mix it with vodka or bourbon, add some ice cubes and drink all I wanted. I could also microwave it and put a tea bag in it or just drink it warm. My personal favorite was to make coffee with it. It was actually quite tasty, especially with a flavored coffee. Of course, if she had to pee, which was quite often, I was required to be her toilet and toilet paper. I loved that part. I was already addicted to her pee and pussy.

The evening would usually finish up with her sitting in the recliner, legs spread or on my shoulders, the spike heels digging into my back, while I licked and sucked on her pussy for orgasm after orgasm. All the while she would watch movies of men being tortured. When she was finally finished, she would tell me to lie on my back, legs spread, and she would grind her classic pumps into my swollen eggs while I was told to jack off. When I came, I was to pump my semen on her classic pumps and then lick it all off. Actually, I loved it.

Chapter Five

Finally, the dungeon was finished. It was exactly as she wanted it, right down to the last detail. She tried our every piece of equipment and every piece of bondage furniture on me and it all worked to her satisfaction. One of her favorites had been a bitch to build. It was a golden shower toilet that I was required to get locked into and my only view was looking up through a toilet seat. The woman would sit down, triggering a small light to come on so I could see a little bit of what was happeningwhat. My entire body was tightly encased in a wooden box with my cock and balls pulled through a small hole that the lady would face when she sat down on the toilet. Right next to the toilet was a rack filled with all sorts of cock and ball beating implements for the lady to use as she was relieving herself in my mouth. How handy.

Her real favorite turned out to be the gyno chair. She’d had it built for her in Europe and it was quite the contraption. It had taken me an entire weekend to assemble it. Once I climbed into it, Aunt Sabrina could secure my arms, legs and torso tightly. She could then move me into any position she desired, including spreading my legs to the splitting point, elevating my ass, head, arms, etc. to any position she needed and it even had a couple of footpads and handholds if a lady would be inclined to sit on my face to have her pussy or ass worshipped. It looked like an antique but it was brand new.

“Okay nephew,” she said. “Let’s try this thing out. Climb up in it and let’s see how you fit.”

It took a few minutes to figure everything out but, in the end, I was very tightly secured in the gyno chair. Auntie fiddled with all the pulleys and wheels until she figured out what they all did. It didn’t take her long and, before I knew it, I was spread-eagled, ass up in the air, asshole totally exposed, arms secured to my sides with my chest and head positioned and secured just how she wanted. She quickly snapped a half-dozen of the tight rubber donuts around my balls causing them to start swelling immediately. She pulled a rolling stool up between my legs and adjusted the height of it until she was satisfied with it. It was the perfect height for her to punch my swollen, secured eggs and she did just that. She was hitting them hard but doing it very slowly, using both of her balled-up fists.

“I’ve got some news for you, my dear nephew,” she said as she kept up the methodical punching of my testicles. You know, of course, that I’m the Senior VP for the Girl Scouts of America. I am also the director of all of the local chapters and, you’ll remember, I am the responsible person for their moral responsibility. Well, I have been working with a lovely group of girls, ages 13 to 16, that I culled from all over Nashville by how they rated on their personality tests. I have been meeting with twice a week for a month and they are quite the interesting bunch of teenagers. All of them had very dominant personalities, according to the tests, and, after interviewing them, I cut a few from the group but the rest of them are borderline sadists and psychos. I have no idea how they even got into the Girl Scouts to start with but they’re perfect for what I’ve got in mind. Are you starting to see where I’m going with this,” she said. I nodded my head even thought I was concentrating more on the pain in my swelling balls.

“I’ve got it down to 5 girls, two 13 year olds, two 14 year olds and one 16 year old. They all come from broken homes, live with their Aunts or Grandmothers and have been abused by men all their lives and they would all like some revenge on men in general. I have been coaching them on all the ways they have at their disposal to control any and all men, mostly with sex ideas. A lot of it was psychological mumbo jumbo but we have now progressed to the physical stage of the curriculum and, believe me, they are rapt students, especially when I started telling them about controlling men through their tender testicles and their mindless dicks. They are all ears and, when the class is over, they stay and ask questions until I tell them it’s time to go home. In fact, in our last class I had some anatomy photos and drawings showing where all the nerve endings are and explanations as to what types of pain were the worst and could cause the most damage. They loved it.”

“Anyway,” she kept talking and I was starting to pay close attention, “I’ve asked them if they would be interested in watching and participating in some actual sessions with a man, where they could see how effective my teachings were. Not surprisingly to me, they all raised their hands and squealed that they would love it. Well, school is about out for summer vacation, and I’ve sent them all a letter to take home inviting them to a free summer camp, sponsored by the GSA for 2 weeks, starting next Saturday, just 8 days from now.”

“Nephew,” she said, “I think we’re going to have a very interesting couple of weeks coming up for you. You need to apply for your 2 week summer vacation so you’ll be here for all the festivities, after all you’ll be the center of attention for all these budding sadists. I just can’t think of a better legacy for me than training all these lovely young ladies in the art of controlling men and satisfying themselves, can you?” I just nodded my head, wondering what the hell was going to happen to me. I feared the worst. “Also nephew,” she said as she continued the painful pummeling of my eggs, “I want you to be totally hairless, except for your head, when my little charges arrive. I’ve got some really strong depilatory that will remove all of your hair and you will start using it today. Are we clear on that?” Once again I nodded my head in agreement. I wasn’t particularly hairy but I knew it would still feel strange to be totally hairless.