The Cock and the Pendulum

KEVIN HAD NOT really taken seriously the folklore surrounding the huge, gray mansion on the hill that bore a striking resemblance to the famous house from Psycho! Word had it that there was a strange young man who lived there alone and was seldom seen in the small town except for brief shopping trips. Whose existence was largely confirmed by the passing shadows that flickered across the shaded windows late at night. Unlike the movie, however, there was no "Bates Motel." In fact Jeremiah Jones--surely a pen name!--was an artist for Horror Comics who could afford to spend most of his time within the threatening confines of the mansion, presumably working on his latest assignments.

There was another matter, however, which some linked to the strange man on the hill: During the past few years, several young men had simply disappeared from the surrounding countryside. There had been Jimmy O'Connell, star gymnast from the local college, Ben Langley, a member of the swimming team from the high school, and last month Buddy Smythe a weight lifter from the same school. All had vanished without a trace. There was nothing, really, to link any of these with Jeremiah Jones, but local gossip and suspicion always settles on the unusual, unknown members of the community. Baron Frankenstein all over again! Well, there were no torch light mobs swelling about, and this was no castle, but there was suspicion—enough that Kevin Jeckle, the young coach at the High School wanted to investigate a bit before he was satisfied. So it was that he was caught prowling at the old mansion 2:00 one morning in early November.

He had found a loosely boarded basement window in the rear of the house and had pried it open and slipped into the dark, musty room. Nothing strange at first, just the typical accumulation of discarded junk that collects in every cellar. Then he came upon a door so tightly encased with surrounding cement blocks that it was almost unobservable. He prodded around the edge with his fingers seeking some sort of handle in the smooth door, when he suddenly touched a hidden switch and the massive door slowly and silently slid open exposing a dimly-lit room beyond. He had entered, and after a moment for his eyes to get accustomed to the darkness, let out a sudden gasp at what he saw: Arrayed along every war were various torture instruments straight out of the Inquisition or a Nazi interrogation scene! A rack, an iron maiden, various pulleys and chains embedded into the stone walls. What could this mean? He barely had time to reflect on all of this when he heard a sudden sound behind him. Before he could collect his wits--or his reflexes--he felt a crushing blow at the rear of his skull and all was blackness.

He awoke an indeterminate time later. It took him a few moments to really adjust to the reality of his situation. When his senses finally were pulled together, he realized his situation: He was chained flat against the slippery damp stone wall with his arms pulled tightly behind his head and shackled to a ring in the masonry. Two bands of thin chains surrounded his belly and held him firmly to the surface. He suddenly also realized one other important fact: He had been stripped naked. In spite of the damp chill, he felt trickles of cold sweat running down from his hairy armpits. As he stretched to look downward, he saw that his prized genitals had been lifted up and spread on a thick plank table in front of his young body. His huge, sperm-filled balls ballooned on either side of his hardened prick which was squashed down and held against the wooden surface by a thin leather strap surrounding his throbbing tube just behind the glans and anchored by two cables on either side. Another cock ring encircled his entire set of genitals at the crotch, cutting off circulation and keeping his erection at full force, and plumping up his testicles. Never before had he felt so vulnerable, and yet, strangely, so sexually excited. Then he glanced ahead and upward and saw a large sort of battle ax suspended from the ceiling immediately in front of him. He was taking all of this in when a sudden noise led his gaze to the opening door as Jerramiah entered.

He was as handsome as his legend had said--about 30 years old, with black longish-cut curly hair. He was naked to the waist, exposing a massive chest with two beautiful nipples on either side of his breast. He was virtually hairless, and his skin glistened in the dim light. He wore a pair of tight black leather pants that left absolutely nothing to the imagination as to his sexuality. There was no fly to interrupt the smooth, provocative bulge at his crotch. Two massive testicles were outlined to the left, and a thick, uncircumcised penis snaked to the right down the pant leg. His feet were encased in black boots which rose to mid thigh. Altogether rather like a medieval torturer. In spite of himself, Kevin was immediately struck by the pure masculine sexuality of his involuntary master. In fact, he had often witnessed this very scene in his vivid imagination: being shackled naked in a dungeon with flaming torches lighting his bondage and torture with their flickering flames. Now it was reality!

Jeremiah stood before him, spread legged, his hands on his hips looking at him with cold, glittering eyes. "Well, now! I've had the pleasure of hosting two of your little team members. I've hoped that I could enjoy their coach, too. Young Ben was a special joy for me. You have no idea how that smooth lithe swimmer's body of his stretched so beautifully on my rack. He put up a most satisfying resistance when I raped his smooth young ass. Then when I turned him around and stretched him belly-up, he produced such musical screams when I put his tender testicles under traction. You really have no idea how much tension a young sac of balls can take before they rip off! Almost clear to his knees until they finally snapped. And your young weight lifter--what a thrill it was to emasculate a young straight stud. Especially when he's built like a bull with genitals that never quit! He sure put up a fight to save his nuts. I let him have a sporting chance: a fight to the death with swords. Too bad he'd never had any experience. But it did give me the opportunity to slice him up real nice--an ear here, a nipple there. God! what a scream when I skewered his balls with a forward thrust! And the coup de grâce when I sliced off the end of his flopping dick! But enough of the past. It's time for you, coach!"

Jeremiah walked up close to Kevin and felt his smooth muscular body, ran his hands over the nearly hairless breast, squeezed the hardened nipples until he thought he would pass out from the excitement. Then he focused on the trim belly and slowly ran his fingers down to the groin and massaged the ballooning balls squashed out on either side of the hard prick. He took each between his fingers and squeezed them until the pressure on each tender sphere was overwhelming. Kevin's eyes bugged out in agony and terror and a high-pitched scream erupted from his wide open mouth. He relinquished his punishing grip on the testicles and ran his fingers lightly along the pulsing shaft.

"We'll have a long time with you, Kevin. You're nice and strong. Ought to last a long time after your masculinity is gone! Let's start with that big, macho dong of yours."

As he spoke, he set the hanging ax in motion, slowly swinging across Kevin's stretched cock just above the ridge of the glans, clearing it by a couple of inches. "Our little pendulum here comes down about half a millimeter each swing. I imagine it will keep your attention focused while it does its work. You'll be able to think about slowly losing your manhood as your cock is being sliced off. Won't that be exciting?"

In fact, in spite of his developing horror, it WAS exciting in a bizarre way for Kevin as he strained to look down as the swinging pendulum as it descended with infinite slowness toward his waiting manhood. His eyes bugged out as he waited for the first sharp pain when the keen blade reached his engorged prick. He wondered how it would be now that his most extreme fantasies were being realized. He thought of agony of having his cock cut off. He thought of the other unnamed tortures to follow as the rest of his genitals were systematically taken from him. But most of all he thought of the catastrophe of the end of his young sex life--of being deprived of his manhood, of actually losing his precious genitals. In spite of himself, he was unable to suppress a scream of terror as he felt the first swipe of the blade across his shaft. The first drops of blood flecked out onto the table and his genitals. Then millimeter by millimeter the cutting continued, slicing its way through the tender skin, and then into the tough fiber of the shaft itself, inexorably deeper and deeper. The cock ring at the base and the leather strap behind the glans held the cock firmly in place in spite of his frantic attempts to pull it free. Now it was a quarter way through, now half, now only a fraction of tissue still connected the severed glans to the remainder of his prick. The most important part of his manhood was almost history. Four more strokes and the shaft was severed. The prick snapped back and the head rolled free, accompanied by an unearthly wail of agony and loss. Kevin had now been unmanned. As he sobbed in despair, Jeremiah laughed. "So much for the first cut. Now we'll take another slice, and then another 'till we get to the end of your cock. I think maybe five or so will do it. Then, of course, there'll be the balls..."

Kevin fainted!