By Allen Baker

It certainly turned out to be a birthday present alright, but certainly not the one Jim or I had ever imagined. Jim promised me a night to remember, and on that promise he certainly came through.

He had called the week before and made me promise not to make any plans for that Saturday night. He was always doing things like that . . . surprising me with tickets to a new play or a night at the hockey match or a romantic dinner out. So I new better than to ask why. He did say not to bother with dressing up as it would be a very casual evening.

He arrived at the apartment on time for once and stood just inside my door with that winsome shit-eating smile I found so endearing. God, he looked good. The new goatee suited his angular face perfectly along with his lengthy brown hair tied back. And even in his jacket, you could see the build that had people stare at him. Damn, he was gorgeous. And, of course, the usual bulge at the crotch of his jeans had it’s own allure, especially since I knew intimately what lay beneath.

“Grab you jacket, Evan, the storm is soon on us. I’d like to get to our destination before it becomes too wretched out.”

I did as requested, and we bolted down the stairs and out into the street. Jim was right. The wind whipped at my jacket and threw dust into my eyes. We jumped into his car and sped away.

As intrigued as I was, I knew there was no sense in even inquiring. I just sat back and watched our progression as we chatted. Eventually, we were out of the city and headed into some back roads that I’d not explored before. But it was obvious Jim knew the way without consulting directions or maps. Before long we were bouncing down an unpaved country lane and up to a farm house.

“Here we are.” Jim grinned as he said it.

“And just where is ‘here’?” I enquired hoping for some enlightenment about our evening’s plans.

I should have known better than to expect and answer. Jim just bolted from the car and ran to the porch as the first bolt of lightening sounded not far away. I got out and pursued him as large drops of rain began to platter onto the porch roof.

He rang the bell and just stood their grinning at me. Soon it was opened by a good-looking middle-aged man with a coat in across his arm.

“Ah, perfect timing, Jim. I’m just ready to leave. You two will have the place to yourselves.”

He turned and introduced himself as Carl. “I have a party in the city and won’t be back until very late tonight. Or if I’m lucky, I won’t come back ‘til morning.” His grin was infectious. “Anyway, you two will be having your own party down there. Just lock the door when you leave, Jim. Oh, and as I said before, if the storm gets bad and you decide to stay the night, that’s fine.”

He was away and down the steps before I could even thank him for his hospitality.

Jim just grabbed my sleeve and led me back a hallway into a typical farmhouse kitchen. Suddenly his smile wiped from his face, and that stern dominating voice took control of me. “Strip, boy, leave all your clothing here on the table.”

That was all the clue I needed to know that we were in for a night of fun and games. It didn’t happen this way often, even though Jim knew I loved being dominated. We were in for a night of bondage and S&M. I shivered from excitement, not from the air hitting my now bare skin.

When I was totally nude, Jim reached into his pocket and pulled out a collar and leash. Once buckled in place, he opened a door and led me down a flight of steps into a totally different world. Gone was the farm and its house. We were suddenly in the dungeons of the middle ages. Stone walls and floors, crude wooden furnishings – just tables and benches. But also implements of terror: an iron maiden, the rack, and row upon row of tools of torture laid out on the tables.

I groaned with dread and anticipation as Jim led me over to a pillar and tied me tightly facing it. He didn’t say anything. He just turned and bolted back up the stairs. All I could do was look around and envision which items would be used upon me.

Soon I heard him on the stairs again. He had changed clothes and stood before me in old, worn leathers. They complemented his body perfectly and focused my eyes on his cod piece which was obscenely exaggerated, but had the desired effect on my own dick.

He picked up a short whip and began working on my shoulders, back, buttocks, and thighs. He was an expert and didn’t break the skin, just created a criss-crossing pattern of welts that would have me moving gingerly within my clothing for the next week.

At the point where my knees finally gave way, he stopped. The dowsed my back with a bucket of ice water and untied me. I soon found myself on the platform of the rack. He placed the wooden plank down over my ankles. Its shape reminded me of the New England colonial pillories and efficiently trapped my feet into an unmoving position. My wrists were placed in chains attached to the big wheel at the head of the rack. I had no doubt what was about to take place.

We were both startled at that point when the lights flickered. Suddenly we were aware of the raging storm outside with furious claps of thunder.

“I didn’t arrange this,” Jim commented, “but I do think it is very appropriate for the occasion, don’t you?”

I thought so, too, but didn’t answer as Jim had just fastened a ball gag onto me thwarting any intelligible response.

I watched as he slowly reached out to the wheel and turned it. The ratchet clicked easily through the first notches until the chains had lost their slack. Then each new notch was gained at the expense of my body. Just two notches, and I was nearly blubbering behind my gag. Jim stationed the wheel at that point and moved back to me. My chest was already heaving, when he reached out with a spiked metal wheel to run up and down my chest, across my nipples. It was exquisite pain when used on the tender insides of my thighs.

My heart pounded loudly in my ears and nearly drowned out the thunder itself when he guided it across my scrotum and across the tender head of my prominently erect member.

Jim chuckled and went back to the table for an exchange of items. He returned with two clamps. Wooden and resembling furniture repair clamps with turned wooden screws, I clamped my jaws onto the gag as he securely attached them onto my already tender nipples.

Back again to the bench he went. This time he came with a wooden device that fastened around my nuts and buckled closed but hanging from that was the terror part. A flat wooden plate snugged up against the bottom my ball sack and could be slowly tightened with the turn of a handle. And turn it he did until my nuts throbbed and protruded out over the edges. The became flatter and flatter as he turned the crank. Slowly the torment of my nuts was transferred deep into my gut where it settle in constant agony. Once more the lights flickered ominously adding to the atmosphere of this wondrously constructed room.

Then he was back with a metal rod that he was slicking down with lubricant. I mewled behind my gag. We had tried sounds before, but this one was nearly the size of my little finger. Jim grasped my dick and aimed the end of the rod at its oozing opening. Gently he pried apart my cock lips and let the rod enter. He didn’t force it, and in spite of its size it slowly began to sink into the tube inside my cock. By nearly straining my shoulder muscles I could lift my head enough to watch its progress. Amazingly its ten inch length slid entirely out of view. Jim chuckled and pushed a finger at the bulge behind my nut sack. Slowly the rod eased back into sight. He let it go, and again it slid entire in.

“Now for something new.” Jim spoke back over his should at me. He fiddled with something on the table then came to me once more. In his hand was a violet wand. I’d seen them in magazines and once in a porn flick. But this was definitely a new device for my experience. He turned it on and let it brush up against my outstretched bicep. Instant torment. The muscle reacted to the electricity by contracting. But being attached so tightly to the rack, it could only strain the muscle even more. Agony.

For the next ten minutes, Jim found new areas to apply the wand, studiously avoiding my crotch. And then he struck. Wild throbbing pain racked my compressed nuts as the electricity pulsed through them. And then he touched my cock head and the electricity rebounded in and around and down through that rod until I thought I’d go out of my mind. It was ecstatically and excruciatingly pleasurable. And it caused the most robust climax of my life. Sperm shot up and around the rod and spilled from my dick slightly steaming with the electricity that had zapped it, too.

And in the middle of the most wonderful orgasm of my life, it happened. The storm fell into sync with my own storm and overloaded the wiring on the farm. The lights flashed and a powerful surge of electricity overloaded the system, and all went black.

Poor Jim, he didn’t know what to do. He was panicked by my screams that even the gag could not dampen. Even in my pain I could hear him stumbling over benches and running to poles. Cursing and muttering as he searched for the candles and matches he remembered having seen earlier. All the time shouting back at me. “Evan, what is it? What’s wrong? It’s just the lights. I’ll get a candle lit in a moment.”

He had no way in the dark of knowing what had happened at that crucial instant. And I had no way of telling him. Even without the gag, I was at a place where words didn’t make sense, didn’t exist.

Finally the flash of a match and the flutter of the candle flame began to bring me back. Jim rushed back to me and gasped as he looked at my crotch. My cock had blackened and had a crusty appearance. He tentatively reached out to it and nearly fainted when he discovered what I already knew. It came away in his hand totally detached from my crotch. In its place stood the protruding eight inches of steel that had acted as the lightening rod directing the power surge to my crotch.

While I don’t think it was the present he intended, and it was certainly not the Birthday Present I had anticipated, Jim did succeed in giving me a total penectomy. While not something I’d had on my wish list, I’m adjusting.