Pin-Ball Willy's Arcade

by allen baker

How does a twenty-year-old reach such an extreme state of depression and despair, you ask? Actually, it isn't a very long story.

I was fourteen when our family trip took us to the coast to visit Uncle Jack. About a day and a half of grown up reminiscing, and I was in total boredomsville. Uncle Jack may never have married or had kids, but he certainly recognized a listless teen when he saw one. And he had compassion, too. He took me to a pin ball parlor. Now I was a modern dude with a host of well-used video games which I played daily, but I'd never seen vintage pin balls before. I was intrigued. It was like walking back in time. They were nothing like their modern video counterparts, but they held a fascination all their own.

By the end of the afternoon, I realized they had a challenge all their own, too. There was skill and finesse required to conquer those babies. And it didn't take me long to learn that each machine had its own idiosyncrasies. I mean, if you play a video game at your own home or away at a friend's, they play the same, act the same. But these machines seemed to have a personality all there own. Each one tried to trick and conquer me in its own manner. They had a life of their own. I was sorry that we had to leave at the end of the week.

Back home I searched out pin balls. They were rare in our area. I'd find one or two in an arcade at a mall or something, never any quantity. And often they were in disrepair or totally out of order. It was a disappointment that there was no parlor dedicated to them like there was in Uncle Jack's area. But wherever I could find them, I played and increased my addiction as well as my skill.

About a year later, I went with my dad into the city. He had some morning meetings, but then we would take in a ball game in the afternoon. It was only about 45 minutes from home, but the traffic was such that we rarely went. I had some time to kill while I waited for dad's meetings to end, so I strolled about looking for arcades. There were one or two of interest, but as usual there were few pin balls. Finally, I asked one of the proprietors if there wasn't someplace like the one near Uncle Jack.

His reaction was interesting. He didn't answer right away, but looked me up and down as if taking inventory. Finally he wrote something on the back of a business card and handed it to me. "It's a special private club. You won't get in without my card." And he turned to some other clients before I could inquire more.

I looked at what he wrote: Pin-Ball Willy's Arcade. An address followed, but of course I had no idea where it was.

Later, dad looked at the address and snorted. "Not a chance, kid. Sorry, but that's in the absolute worst part of the city. Nothing but run-down factories and people sleeping in doorways. I wouldn't drive through there with my doors locked if I could avoid it." He tossed the card back into my lap. To say I was disappointed was an understatement.

But you know kids, to tell them no to do something is the kiss of death. The first Saturday after I turned sixteen and had my license, I was consulting a map in the city and finding my way to new adventure. Of course, my parents had no idea where I was going or they would have forbid it. I figured what they don't know won't hurt. I was wrong.

Dad had been right. By the time I parked the car, I was very nervous about the area. If it had been evening or night, I'd have never unlocked the car. Even in broad daylight, I cautiously looked about before unlocking the car and hurrying to the entry. It had a small sign above it that just said "Willy's." If you hadn't been told, you'd never have known it was an arcade. I immediately wondered how in the world it stayed in business in this neighborhood. But then, pin balls were hard to find, so I guessed there were other addicts like myself who were willing to make the same sojourn into the slums.

I went in the door and found myself in a small cubical-sized entry. There was a ticket-booth type window in a side wall that looked into a small corner of an office. It took a couple of minutes, but finally a middle-aged biker-type guy appeared in a leather vest and jeans. I think I probably stood there staring at his piercings. Now I wasn't a prude by any means. I mean, I had plenty of friends who had holes in various places on their bodies. But I'd never seen anything like this guy. Each ear had ten or twelve heavy gauged rings, bars, even bolts. The eyebrows, the nose. But the ones that really had me going were the septum and his nipples. The septum had a three inch pointed bone of quarter inch diameter sticking through it. Sort of like a handlebar moustache. And while I couldn't actually see his nipples because of the vest, they had to be pierced, too, because a heavy chain dangled between them.

When I finally pulled myself back together, I saw he was smirking, obviously enjoying the reaction he'd caused. "Well kid? What d' ya want?"

Well, I stammered a bit and finally conveyed that I liked to play pin ball and was told this was the place and at last hauled out the card I'd been given. I slipped it under the glass and it lay there on the counter as he studied it and me. Finally he responded. "I'm Willy. And this ain't no kids' joint. Let me see some ID."

I passed through my newly acquired license. He looked at it a couple of seconds. "You make this yourself?" Then he chuckled as I blinked surprise. "Just joking. Look, this isn't the kind of place where kids hang out just to have some place to be. I don't tolerate any horseplay or vandalism or hassling of patrons. People come here to play pinball. They're serious about their game and don't want distractions. Got it?"

By the time he finished, I was excited and grinning. I just nodded my head.

He copied some things down from my license and typed into his computer. A machine to the side spat out a card. "Okay, then. Here's a trial period pass. Prove yourself and you'll earn a permanent one." He slipped my items back to me along with a card that had a metallic strip down the back. He pointed to a small box on the next door. The card opened it like a hotel room and I was in! He came out of his office door to welcome me with a handshake.

I don't know what I expected, but not this. It was a huge, tall renovated factory space. But it was populated by only ten or so machines. They were scattered about and somewhat isolated. But what machines! He went on to explain that all the games were one of a kind, designed and hand-made by Willy himself. They were not coin operated, each had a keypad on the front. Punch in your driver's license number and you were in. His computers kept track of your scores and you could get a daily or monthly print out of your record. By the time he finished explaining the way it all worked, I was in awe of the man.

Then a thought struck me. "Uh, Willy? If the machines aren't coin operated, how do you charge? How much does a game cost? Do pay on the way out from what the computer says you played?"

Willy just laughed. "No, kid. This is my life, my hobby. I've got more money than I know what to do with. There's no charge here. Just enjoy my machines and that's all the reward I need."

I was stunned. This was heaven, candyland. I couldn't fathom what I'd stumbled into. I grinned so wide I thought my mouth would crack open. Willy just patted me on the back and pushed me toward one of the machines.

Soon I was lost in my own world of competition with those maniacal monsters. Willy was a genius. Each game was deceptively simple. Each had it's own challenges. I played the first one over and over until I got what I figured was a reasonable grasp of its workings and felt like I could do well on it. I didn't stick around long enough to conquer it, though. There were other machines to try. But even so, I was only on the third machine when I realized how late it had become. I'd been there at least four hours! I had to get on the road to home. So reluctantly, I quitted the game and moved to the check-out computer. I punched in my number, and it printed out my results. It must have also alerted Willy, because he was there by the time I picked up the paper from the print tray.

He stood quietly as I looked it over. Once he saw I reached the bottom, he spoke. "You did very well on your first time here. You obviously have a knack for these babies. I expect I'll be seeing more of you. You'll notice that there is a running total of accumulation points with a goal amount. When you reach the goal level, you can move on to the next room." He motioned to another door in an alcove I hadn't noticed before. "Until you reach the goal, you're card won't open it." See ya, sport." He gave me hearty slap on my rump as he pushed me out the door.

On the drive home, some things began to come to the surface of my brain. I'd been so intent on the games, that many other things had registered only subconsciously. There had been only one other person in the game room when I got there, and he'd soon left so I hadn't even spoken to him. A few more people had come in and gone directly to that next door. At the time I hadn't even noticed. There were lots of cars in the parking lot. How many people were in there? How may rooms were there? Were there other doors? Other levels of play? And were there any women? I hadn't seen any? I had lots of questions but few answers. But mostly, I thought about Willy and his amazing games.

And of course the next Saturday I was back. And the next. I didn't see Willy again for a while. Must have been busy elsewhere. I had so many questions. A couple of times there were other men there with me, and I tried asking them. None of them would say anything except that I'd have to ask Willy himself. So I continued playing the machines and trying to master them. At the same time, my total points were accumulating.

One Saturday, I was playing along when my machine started flashing and a soft bell started ringing. At first I thought I had caused a tilt or something. But soon Willy was by my side with a print out. "Congratulations, kid." He pointed near the bottom where it showed I had reached my point goal. "Now you can move on. But first we need to do some serious talking. Come into the office a bit."

I followed Willy through the office door. He led me past the desk and through another doorway into a lounge area. He motioned for me to have a seat on a sofa while he moved to the TV across from it and fiddled with some video tapes.

"You hit your goal and qualify for the next area of the arcade, boy. But I need you to watch this video first and decide if this is really for you or not. Ya see, this is an all male club, and the next area is all nude. Not all guys go in for that, so I got this video to show ya what yer in for if you continue on. Just take a look. If you decide this isn't for you, just get up and leave – no hard feelings, kid. But if you decide this is where you want to be, then you're welcome to stay. And you probably will have some questions – most do. And if you're like a lotta guys, you just won't be sure. And if that's the case, I say go for it. Give it a try and see if it's your thing or not. No harm tryin' it on for size."

He switched on the machine and left me on my own. The first thing on the screen was the area that I'd always been playing in. Whoever was videotaping walked the camera over to the door and reached out a hand to swipe a card through the lock. I recognized the tatoos as belonging to Willy. He opened the door and walked into a small hallway. He turned into a doorway on the left and I saw we were in a locker room. There was a group shower at the end with billowing steam through which I could see some naked limbs and buttocks peeking out at me

There was another guy sitting in his underwear on a bench in front of a locker putting on a pair of socks. He looked up, grinned, and waved. Beyond him stood a guy with his back to us who shucked off his boxers and tossed them into a locker. He moved out a door farther down and Willy's camera followed his naked butt on out of the room.

When we went through the door, I was stunned. This area was about the same size as the initial one, but had twice as many games in it. And there were nude men everywhere. They appeared totally uninhibited in their relaxed naturalness. I'd never seen such a sight in my life.

Once I was over the initial shock of the scene, I began to pay more attention to the games. They appeared similar to the ones I'd been playing with one major exception. The front panel of each had a large hole centered in the front panel. And in front of each game was a platform to stand on. As I watched, the guy we had followed from the locker room moved to one of the games. Willy moved to the side and focused on him. The guy pushed a button and the platform automatically adjusted in height. Once he had it where he wanted it, he moved directly up to the game. Willy zoomed in on his crotch. The man pushed his crotch into that central hole and hit the start button on the game. The extreme close up showed that inside the hole was a smaller hole where the guy's cock lodged. His balls dangled inside the first hole. Suddenly an iris-like inner plate closed in on the man, trapping his genitals inside!

The man punched numbers onto the key pad. Immediately the game came to life. and the man worked at scoring. Willy approached the game and focused down into the glass. You could see the inner workings of the machine and watch the metal ball make its progress around the course. The guy was good. I could see the points mounting and observe his ability. The camera moved lower down the glass and I realized I could also see through the glass to the man's rigid hardon and sagging ball sack.

I'd never seen any one hard other than myself. This guy was enormous compared to my own teen erection. He had to have been nine inches to my six and much, much thicker. I blushed with embarrassed fascination. I couldn't take my eyes from his thick throbbing prick. I also became aware that I, too, was becoming aroused. That surprised me. I realized seeing this man's cock made me much harder than any cunt in the Playboy collection my dad had in his bottom dresser drawer. I was confused, but rock hard.

The game continued until finally the lights flashed "game over - you win." Almost instantly the guy began to buck his hips against the machine. A mechanism just inside gently massaged his balls. A vacuum was created around his dick as a clear tube contracted around it and began to milk him. It was a sex machine! I watched in mingled embarrassment, fascination, and envy as the man lost all awareness of his surroundings. His world became focused on his libido. The machine was his active partner, existing only to give him pleasure. Soon, he thrust his hips forward and threw back his head. His balls pulled up in their sack and his prick pulsated as he shot stream after stream of white man juice into the machine's inner workings. It sucked him dry. Finally he collapsed onto the glass as his orgasm subsided. There was a flashing of the lights and then the machined released him. Willy followed his rubbery legs as they carried him toward the showers.

I was aware that I had a wet leak spot on the front of my jeans, but I couldn't do anything about that. I just had to keep watching. Willy moved his camera on to another machine. This guy, too, had his manhood entrapped by the machine. But he wasn't near the gamesman as the last one. He was struggling to stay alive on it. Finally, his metal ball fell to defeat and a look of horror passed across his face. Again, the machine came to life at his crotch, but with a very different intent. The man began to writhe in agony as the mechanical hand grasped his balls and began to squeeze. Then he began to shriek and jerk about as I saw sparks fly from the ends of electrical wires about his cock. He had lost to the machine, and it was exacting retribution.

I stared at the screen, unable to tear my eyes away from the man's torment. At the same time, my hand found the front of my jeans and rubbed the fabric-coated erection inside. Before I could stop myself, I had sperm-soaked my already damp jockeys. With the ragged breathing of recovery, I continued to watch.

Finally, the machine spat the defeated man from its interior, and he landed in a sobbing mound on the floor. The camera stayed on him as he gingerly inspected his groin, comforting himself in gentle hands. Eventually, he pulled himself to his feet and staggered toward the locker room.

The camera zoomed back and did a slow pan about the entire room. Most of the games were in use. Naked guys were mated to the machines in sexual ritual. Some in bliss, some in pain, but all willing participants. The screen faded to black and then went to fuzz. I stared at the static in neutral, unable to totally take it in.

"Well, kid? You didn't bolt and run, so you must have found it at least interesting."

I jumped at his voice, not realizing he'd rejoined me at some point. "And from the looks of those jeans, you have responded positively."

I looked down with embarrassment at the large wet stain that covered my crotch and down my left pant leg. Thoroughly confused, I didn't know what I was thinking.

He just chuckled and said, "Take you're time. No need to rush it. Got some questions?"

I nodded my head yes and then no, but nothing came out. I just licked my lips and kept staring at the residual images on the inside of my eyes. Finally, my mouth worked independent of my head. "Will that guy be alright? Was . . . was anything permanently damaged?"

"Oh, hell no. He'll be back tomorrow. Actually, it's early enough he may be back yet today. He's not a good player, but he keeps trying"

I shuddered to think the guy went through that torture on a regular basis. But then, I was addicted to the machines even when the rewards were only points. Suddenly, I couldn't think anymore. I just needed out of the claustrophobic room. I looked up at Willy and said, "I gotta go now"

Willy gave a wild laugh and a heavy slam to my back. "That's my boy, go home and think about it." He grabbed my hand and led me back into the office. "First, some papers to sign. You know, just to acknowledge that you know what you'd getting into and that you'd be doing it of your own free will. That you absolve both me and the Arcade of any blame for physical or mental harm. And that you vow never to talk about what goes on here to anyone other than another member or myself. You know, the usual stuff."

Inwardly, I laughed. Usual stuff? What I just watched was usual stuff? Ya, right! But I read forms and signed quickly. Anything to get out into breathable air.

Willy must have sensed my feelings. He typed into the computer. "You now have access to room number 2. Your next printout will give goal totals. But you're the youngest guy I've ever had in here that was a good enough player to make it in. I gotta warn ya. I think you will be able to hit the points. But I can't let you go into room number three until you turn eighteen. You just can't be a minor and go into that room."

At that point I didn't care about any next room – I just wanted to get outside. I was so horny and turned on that I was about to rip a hole in my jeans. I just had to get out of this man's presence.

When I handed Willy the completed forms, he handed over a new card. "Here's your permanent card, boy. Welcome to Willy's Ecstasy Palace."

I sat shaking in my car in the parking lot. I was totally confounded by what had just happened. I had just shot off in my drawers and yet was hard as a rock. I carefully started the vehicle and inched my way home. My mind was a blur.

I'm not sure how the rest of the day passed, but the next thing I knew, I was lying in bed looking out the darkened window. Pictures in my head of those guys on the video tape were interspersed with my apprehensions. I was the type who half-hid myself with a towel in gym class locker room. How could I possibly think of stripping down in front of those mature men and stand about playing pinball?

And not just play pinball. Have sex with a machine? In public? Nobody had ever seen my hard cock. Could I really go in there and deliver myself up to machine? Could I really expose myself like that? Somehow, I couldn't imagine standing there and having all those men watch me in the throws of sexual bliss. Watch me pant and pump and shoot. Watch me throw back my head and shout out in ecstasy. And yet, I had watched one of them do just that. That's what they were there for. That was the whole purpose of Willy's establishment. To have a masturbatory event with a machine! How could I do that?

The whole time my thoughts were rushing about my head, my groin had visions of its own. My hips rhythmically humped my crotch into my mattress. My cock slid along the sheet and warmed with the resulting friction. My nuts bounced against my thighs and were smashed against the bed. Soon, my brain stopped thinking at all, and I just saw the images of those two guys caught in their climax and torture and knew I wouldn't be able to stay away. I was a double victim of my pinball addiction and my teenage hormones. As I shot yet another load into my cum-soaked sheets, I knew I'd be trying out my new admissions card the next weekend.

Even so, I was nervously shaking as I passed my card over the lock that next Saturday. It took every bit of inner strength to pull open the door and pass inside. I nervously took a back row locker and stripped to my underwear. Then I stood for a long time, somehow knowing that was the turning point. If I pulled them off, I sensed I was setting myself on a path of no return. And I wasn't even sure where the end of the path led. But I took a deep breath, wrenched them off, and flung them into the locker. The loud bang as I quickly slammed the locker door shut seemed an ominous omen. I should have headed it.

I peeked around the corner of the row and, not seeing anyone, inched toward the door. I heard a shower stop and knew that someone was about to exit it right behind me, so was compelled to move on. Abruptly I stopped in my tracks, realizing I had just stepped into the game room in my altogether. Quickly I looked around. There were eight or ten men scattered about, but not one was looking at me, thank goodness. They were all intent on their games. Or rather intent on their crotches.

I quickly moved to the nearest pinball and adjusted the platform height. Then I stuck my dick into the small hole and crammed my nuts into the larger on. Then I breathed a bit easier, knowing that my privates were hidden from general view. I punched my code into the keypad and watched in fascination through the glass while the machine closed in around me. The constriction felt like it did when I tied a shoelace about my gonads. I was swelling up to full power. It was intriguing to see: it looked like watching myself on TV or something. Except I could feel it, too. Then I slightly panicked as I realized the helplessness of retrieving myself. I was at the mercy of the machine. Finally, I took a deep breath and got myself under control. I was a good player. Everything would be fine.

I started the game with confidence. But that soon left. I began to sweat after losing the first two balls. I was playing the final one and was no where near winning the game. Fright made concentration practically impossible. Willy's initial games had been deceptively simple compared to this. He'd lulled me into a false confidence that abruptly evaporated. I began to tremble with the realization that I was actually going to lose. That the machine was going to win. That it would exact its pay. That my crotch was about to suffer. The vision of that tortured man on the video overlapped with reality. That was all it took to break my concentration and send the final ball down the tube.

"You lose!" flashed in crimson light in front of my face. Horror flashed through me. And the machine came to life. I found myself banging on the glass surface, trying to reach down to protect my sensitive male parts. A vice-like plate began to tighten against my nuts. I gritted my teeth expecting them to be crushed. I was surprised when they were barely into the realm of pain, when it stopped compressing. Then I watched as a steel rod the thickness of a pencil approached my dick slit. "No!" I shouted, oblivious to anyone around me. The rounded end of the metal parted my prick lips and started to slide inside. I'd never even considered having something inside there before. I felt violated as the raping rod slid farther and farther into me. I watched helplessly as it plundered my still hard cock. Then it stopped going in farther. Instead, it backed out a little, then re-entered. Then it did the same thing. Finally I realized it had set up a rhythm and was fucking the inside of my dick! I was being jacked off on the inside! I moaned and gave in to the feeling. I was just beginning to enjoy myself when I realized the metal plate against my nuts was beginning to get warm. Then the same began to happen with the rod inside my dick! It didn't take long for it to move from warm to uncomfortable. In a panic, I began to fuck the machine back, attempting to induce my climax as quickly as possible. I was soon groaning and moaning with the combination of pain and impending orgasm. I increased my movement and drove myself to the ultimate climax. Suddenly, I shouted out and clasped the machine as I shot the metal rod right out of my dick along with my first splatter of teen juice. I cried out again and again with mingled agony and pleasure. Over and over again I shot my load, hearing it sizzle on the heated rod.

I dropped my chest to the machine and hugged it as my lover until I had spewed my entire load into its belly. Then it spat me out, and I held on to the surface until my legs would again support me. Finally, I could walk enough to move to the shower and stand under the healing spray of soothing water.

For the next six months, I wavered between mastery of the glory-hole machines and being conquered by them. By that point, I realized I no longer cared about the consequences of the game. Win or loose, I'd find ecstacy in the outcome. But the addiction of conquering the pinball game was still the driving force of the play. And so I continued to improve and build points.

And so for the next year I accumulated goal points and surpassed the aim mark, only to be reminded by Willy that I had to bide my time until my eighteenth birthday to move on. I was irritated, but didn't dwell on my age deficiency. I just continued winning and being rewarded with the best sex life any teenage guy could possibly have fantasized.

But when my eighteenth birthday came and went, I could hardly contain myself until the following weekend. That Saturday, Willy met me at the door as I logged in. His computer had told him it was the day, and he again ushered me into his office.

"What now, Willy. Another video?" I joked, as he sat me down in what I now knew to be his living room. He had an entire apartment hidden away behind the office and rarely left the premises.

"Nah, just a friendly chat." He plopped down into the chair across from me with his beer. "How do you feel about having sex with other men?"

Once again, he'd thrown me for a loop. But I tried to act mature about it. "What, and give up your pinballs?"

He chuckled. "No, really, kid. Have you ever played around with a guy? You know, sucked him off or fucked him? Or been fucked?"

Now I had no retreat but to answer honestly. "No."

"Why not?"

Again, I was thrown off. Yeah, why not? I didn't really grove on girls. When I stopped to think about it, I no longer envisioned pussy while beat off. But what did I envision? Yeah, guys. I'd concentrate on the memories of the guys at the arcade. But I never paired myself with them. Just acted as kind of a voyeur and remembered how they looked at the machines as I whacked away. Finally, I saw Willy was waiting for an answer. "Um, I guess just because I never had a chance. I guess."

"But you're not opposed?"

Willy forced me to decide. "I... ah ... I guess not. I mean, I guess I might be willing to try. If the time and place were right."

"Well," he looked at me intently, "this is the time and place."

I just stared. So he continued. "The next room's games are played in partnership. Each game is actually a pair of intricately connected machines. They start up only when two men are in place. The first guy to win or lose his game affects the machine's movement. As soon as that happens, the machines move so that the looser is placed in the bottom position for the other's sexual pleasure. Sometimes orally, sometimes anally. You either win and get gratified, or lose and get fucked. Either way, you engage in male sex."

I just stared at him in shock.

"So, you can either move on to the next room, or stay where you are and continue as you've been doing. But I can tell you this, you've never seen a pinball masterpiece until you've seen the next room." He stood. "You've been cleared for the next room. Now its up to you."

He walked out of the room, and I just sat there. Once more, he'd challenged my thinking. Challenged my views on sexuality. By the time I stood and headed for the locker room, I had made the decision Willy had known I would make all along. He always knew I wouldn't be able to resist the demanding invitation of his marvelous machines.

I stood just inside the new room and tried to take in what I was seeing. These machines were totally different from any of Willy's others. The machines themselves looked to be more conventional. In other words, they didn't have glory holes in the front. And they were set side by side in pairs of identical games. The genius of this room were the contraptions that the men were in. I saw men encased in metal frames that controlled every motion. They consisted of a series of metal rods with joints to mimic every human motion. A man would step into the contraption and activate the keypad. The mechanism would close about him. Other than his fingers, every motion was dictated by the machine itself. Every leg bend. Every turn of the head or twist of the elbow. The man inside was in total bondage!

Across the room, I saw two men in front of their matching games. They were pretty evenly matched, and it looked like it could go on for some time. I looked to my left and saw a row of empty waiting mechanisms. One was occupied. It occurred to me that he couldn't play alone. That he had entrapped himself and was waiting for someone to challenge him. For someone to become his eventual sexual partner.

I slowly walked toward the next machine in line and stood staring at it.

"Your first time?" He had been waiting for me to jump into the action, and my age and hesitation had evidently clued him in.

I turned to him. "Yeah." I looked at a man for the first time with the open thought of sexual desire. He was already hard and dripping. And he was very well hung.

"Well, you won't learn anything by just staring at it. Get in, and Willy's wonders will take us away. The machine even selects which game we play. I've been here about five months and still haven't played them all. And the ones I have played, I haven't mastered. I think the computer tries to put us at even odds. It'll probably put us at a game I've never played so that neither of us has an advantage."

With that little reassurance, I climbed aboard. When the machine whirled and closed tightly about me, I started to panic and hyper-ventilate.

"Just take it easy and breathe deep. You'll be fine. I did the same thing my first time."

Suddenly our two frames began to move us. They actually walked us across the room. "Holy shit!" I'd said it without even knowing it.

"Know what you mean. These robots have lives of their own. Eerie, isn't it?"

We spoke no more, because we were deposited in front of a pair of games. Our hands were placed at the controls and with no more warning the initial balls banged into the playing field. Startled, I lost a couple of point chances right off the bat. It wasn't one of Willy's most challenging games. But because of the newness of the conditions under which I was playing, I wasn't at my best. I lost the first of the three balls rather quickly.

I was doing much better on the second one when I heard a raucous clanging of bells from the other set of games in use. One of the men had won. The loser was shouting out obscenities. I couldn't move my head to look that way, but from the corner of my eyes, I could see motion as one man moved to a kneeling position. Then I heard wet sounds as a mouth was invaded among grunts and protests.

That distraction was all that was necessary for me to miss the ball with a paddle and see it go down the exit. Damn, only one ball left and my opponent was pilling up the points. I broke into a cold sweat as I realized that I just might lose this match. And I began to shudder at the results. I tried to wipe such thoughts from my head and concentrate on the game, but suddenly my partner's machine started to exclaim victory and mine shut down.

My brain went into shock. I felt numb. But then I suddenly began to move. My body turned away from my mate, and began to bend. Horror struck my as I found myself on all fours with his body beginning to move in between my legs. I heard a deep gurgle in my throat as I forced down a scream.

"Wow. What a beautiful ass. I'm really going to enjoy fuckin' you, boy."

Back through my legs at his crotch. His erection was dripping in anticipation as the machine aligned him with my hole. I began to babble. "No! Oh shit, no! Don't fuck me. Please no. I'm a virgin. I've never... please. Please... no!"

"Oh, damn, kid. Nothing I we can do about it now. Sorry, but I must say I'm turned on by the thought of taking your cherry."

The computer moved us together. It joined us in one fell swoop and buried him up my undefiled chute. I screamed. It hurt so bad. He tried to console me, told me to relax. The machine pumped us together. He began to moan in pleasure, and I began to sob. Sob as much in lost innocence as pain.

But after a bit, the pain began to melt away, and I began to become aware of my anatomy. Something inside there felt different. Good. In fact, very good. With each thrust of my opponent's cock, I reeled from the gush of mindless pleasure I received. Wow, no jack off session had ever felt like this. None of Willy's sex games had felt this good. I was in heaven. My cock began to lengthen and get very firm. Each of his deep bumps forced a stream of pre-goo out of its tip. Soon dick slime dribbled and threaded toward the floor beneath me.

I began to beg again. This time for different things. "Oh, yeah, man. Fuck me. Fuck me deep and hard. Don't stop. Oh, shit, yeah."

He chuckled. "So much for virgin pain and innocence!"

Inwardly, I agreed, but was too busy enjoying my first male sex act to reply. I had never imagined it would be that great. The machine continued pump him into me. Over and over and over. Finally, I heard his breathing change. Through my legs I saw his nuts pull up. Then his dick began to throb inside me. He cried out in rapture as he plastered my tunnel with his spunk. When it started to dribble out my ass and slide down the back of my nut pouch, I had reached my limits. My balls pulled up and my orgasm began. Each push against my inner hot button had me grunt in pleasure. My cock splattered my face with my white goo as I incoherently blathered my excitement.

Eventually, the machine somehow knew to stop. Slowly he softened and slipped out of my ass with a soft plop. I never knew I could feel so devastatingly empty. I mourned his separation.

The machine moved us back to the starting point and released us. I literally collapsed to the floor. He reached down a hand and helped me to my feet. My legs wobbled, so he escorted me back to the showers. We stood under adjacent shower heads and let the hot steam and shooting sting of water revitalize us.

I started to as him a question, but he shook his head. We were not alone in the locker room, and we were forbidden to talk about room three to any who were not qualified. So I nodded and kept my inquiries to myself.

The next months were an unbelievable education to gay sex. Those machines were truly marvelous, and deliciously inventive with it variations. I discovered I loved the male body and the pleasure it was capable of giving. And while I loved taking my defeated opponent as my victory spoils, their were times when I realized I had thrown a game just to have the pleasure of being mastered by a particularly gorgeous hunk. It was an especially exciting thrill to never know just what the machine would have us do to one another. The variations were seemingly endless.

The time passed and I reached another goal. This time, there were no more rooms, just a printout that said I then qualified to participate in and/or observe "special events" -- games to be announced. Since Willy wasn't about at the time, I wasn't able to inquire. So when I received a formal looking envelop in the mail at home, I was surprised to find Willy as the only word in the return address area. I knew enough to pocket it to open later in privacy.

The invitation was quite graphic. The front had a drawing of a cock sticking through the opening of a descending guillotine! I was horrified at the implication, but I was also rock hard. Inside was a simple message. "Extreme Pinball with Permanent Consequences." Then it gave a time and date. The place was "Willy's Arena." On the back was an address that would have been on the street right behind the Pinball Palace. I realized it was another part of the same warehouse complex with a separate entrance.

My hand was shaking. Surely this was a joke. Willy hadn't really devised such a drastic game. Surely. And yet, I knew deep down that he had. It made sense. An addiction is an addiction. You crave more. Want something new. Need a bigger thrill. I knew I was a true pinball addict, but this? No way. No.

But for the next two weeks, that invitation lay hidden in my night stand. But it was never, ever out of my thoughts. There was no way I'd participate. But how could I stay away? How could I possibly not go to see what Willy had invented. He was a true genius. Demented, but genius. I had to go, had to see.

The Saturday arrived, and I drove to the new location. Only a very small sign indicated it was the right place. The door was locked, but my card gained me entrance. The only other door inside went into a huge locker room where many men were in various states of undress. There had to be eighty or more guys in sight and five times that many lockers. I was stunned. In a fog I moved to a locker and began to disrobe. I had my hand on my zipper when the guy beside me shucked his shorts. I froze. He had no balls. No sack. Nothing but smooth skin existed below his cock. Not noticing my stare, he closed his locker and moved on out. I sat down heavily on the bench. I guess I really truly hadn't believed the invitation. But what I had just seen proved that extreme results were the honest truth. As I went on getting out of my clothes, I slowly looked over my fellow strippers. Not far away was a guy without a cock. To my other side was another. Down the row was another castrated man. And then I saw the ultimate. There was a guy with a totally smooth crotch. Nothing existed there. Nothing at all.

I moved with the crowd and exited to the top row of what the invitation had proclaimed: an arena. It had been hollowed out and descended from the first floor down into the sub-basements of the huge building. My mouth dropped open. The place had to seat eight or nine hundred people. And it was nearly full of nude men! I walked along until I could move down an aisle. Finding an empty place about half way down, I dropped myself into the folding stadium seat.

All eyes were focused on the central clearing. It was disproportionately small for the size of the seating. Probably only thirty feet across. On the central platform were a pair of matching pinball machines and a pair of the robotic frames. My mouth went dry. I could feel the rising compulsion to play. I grasped the seat's arms to prevent myself from moving toward the games. They were hypnotic in their pull.

In a circle above them, were a series of gigantic screens showing close ups of the scene. I realized that whomever played would be on constant display for all to see. I studied the close ups of the games themselves, analyzing the difficulty. They appeared to be no more challenging than the ones in the sex room. But then, with this audience and the consequences, a player's nerves would multiply the distraction factor and make them nearly impossible to conquer. Whomever participated in this event had to be nuts.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed and a central spot sprang to life to reveal Willy in a leather harness and nothing else. His manhood was obscenely enormous and sported more hardware and jewelry than a tatoo parlor.

"Gentlemen and eunuchs." He had to pause for the laughter to die down before he continued. "Welcome to one of Willy's special events. They give the title ‘Extreme Games' a whole new meaning. Today, I have four competitors who are on the docket. But, as you know, I always invite volunteers as well. And so we begin. Of course, we use no names, so I won't introduce our first two players. Remember, the winner gets $50,000, and the loser receives $20,000 and gets penectomized."

A great roar filled the air as two men moved to their respective frames. The robots were nearly like the ones I'd become accustomed to. But these had butt plugs that rooted themselves deeply into the men. On one of the screens, I could see that once in place they inflated and appeared to throb. An added distraction to concentration of the game. Also a special frame encased each penis. A constant reminder that its survival depended on the play?

I had to admit, Willy had located two beautiful specimens of manhood. Each guy was muscular and solidly built. And each sported at least ten inches of manmeat. It was obvious each guy was proud of his endowment. So each had much to lose, both physically and psychologically.

The frames came to life and moved the men into position. The pinballs spat out the initial metal balls, and the fateful game was underway. It became quickly evident they were both masterful players. The scores soared on both machines with little error on either side. Because they were so good, the game stretched on and on. So did the tension. All around me, I could see men stroking themselves or the man beside. My hand had begun to move up and down my rigid dick almost without my noticing it.

Suddenly there was a gasp, and everyone's attention went to the one machine. It was flashing "Game over – you lose!" The player stared at his game and then went into frantic shock. He screamed. He cursed. He struggled against his bindings. But the robots were unfeeling and held him firm.

Then his machine sent another ball into the playing field. All the overhead screens focused on its progress. It bumped and jumped and finally landed in the slot marked with the picture of a scalpel. Then the robots came to life. Both moved to the side of the platform. The butt plug retrieved itself from the loser. The winner's robot moved him behind. Suddenly the winner impaled the loser's ass, metal cock-frame and all. The man howled in pain and despair. In front of him rose a robotic arm from the floor holding the inescapable surgical knife. The man screamed and screamed as the armature reached into his crotch and sliced his manroot away forever.

All around me, fists pounded and cocks shot cum everywhere. The back and side of my neck and face were coated by the man behind me. My crotch was awash with my own juices and more splattered my leg from the side.

Round one done.

The second match up was a near repeat. Except that the momentous implement was a meat grinder! The man beside me picked me up and sat my hole down over his throbbing dick. I was too mesmerized by the scene to object. He reached around and pounded my meat as he fucked me. All around was an eight-hundred man orgy. But it was eerily quiet as we listened to the agonized screams of a man who's cock was slowly being ground into hamburger! My eyes glazed as I shot my second load of the day.

There was quiet as all those sated men slumped in their seats recovering from their individual and collective climaxes. But eventually Willy again stood before us. "As usual men, I offer one final prize if we can have two volunteers willing to compete. Anyone among you brave enough?"

Immediately a guy in the second row, jumped onto the platform. A roar went up. Then we all sat there waiting for an opponent. None appeared. "Come, come gentlemen. You are all very accomplished players or you would never have received an invitation. Surely there is one among you with the confidence to face this challenge."

I don't know how it happened. Again the rashness of youth? But suddenly I was aware of a thunderous shouting and applause as I stood at the center of attention with that other player and Willy. "Alright men, we have another event. Get you hands busy in your neighbors crotch and here we go!"

The rest was a blur. The plug up my ass did indeed throb and distractingly caressed my prostate. It made my dick ooze. What hadn't shown on the screen was the mild, tingling electric current that constantly pulsed through the frame around my cock. The game had started before I could pull my concentration away from the pleasure I was feeling. Needless to say, it had been a very rash move to volunteer that day. In no time at all, I was defeated. Like my predecessors, I railed against the gods and cursed the heavens. To no avail. The electrified frame of the victor's cock prodded my tunnel. The pulsing charge, punished my prostate. I watched in disbelief as the guillotine rose from the floor and my cock was pushed into its opening. As soon as the blade began to quiver, I shot bolt after bolt of thick cream from its end for the very last time. I hadn't finished my orgasm when the blade flashed by my face and severed my prick forever from the body that had nourished it for eighteen years. I passed out.

$20,000 is a lot of money for a high school senior. But it isn't nearly enough to compensate. Too late, I realized my folly. But not my lesson. Just three months later, another invitation arrived. The only difference was the date and the drawing. This time the cover showed a drawing of the scalpel cutting into the top of a scrotum. This time, I went directly to Willy and signed up. I know, rash. But I figured that I had experience with the pressure and would be able to overcome it and win.

I was actually excited as I waited for Willy to bring us onto the stage. I walked out with confidence. This time, I knew how the butt plug would feel. This time I was expecting the electrical charge through the metal ring around the neck of my scrotum. But as the game began, I was unnerved to find I wasn't confident. That the pressure was just as great or greater.

So when I lost this time, I didn't shout out. I just sobbed at my own stupidity. My opponent still had his dick, so I was again impaled. But I did cry out when the metal ball settled on the meat grinder. I trembled with anticipation as the machine rose out of the floor at my feet and closed in on my dangling nuts. On the screens above I saw my gigantic balls slip into the funnel-like opening. And then the first blade struck at the scrotum. It caught and tugged and ripped away a patch of skin. White lightning flashed behind my eyes. The whirling blades hit a second time then a third. I watched in agony as spurts of my final sperm shot out of the hole where my dick used to be. Then the blades bit into my balls, chewed them up. and swallowed them down the machine's throat forever.

That was last year. I've continued to receive the invitations, but haven't attended. Why? I would find no sexual pleasure in it now. Odd to think that a twenty year old no longer has sexual pleasure, but it's true.

And now today another envelope arrived. The picture on the front very different from the previous ones. This one had no male body parts in the drawing. Just a rope. A rope shaped into a hangman's noose.

I don't know yet. I'm considering.