Three Years a Slave: Adjusting the Flesh to the Support. Part thirteen.

After my youngest Owner checked that the structure inside the shed was ready he began to adjust me to the new support.

I had fixed a whole series of iron rings in different positions on the wooden beams to allow for tying in different ways. I could have imagined they would do the same to me.

He tied me to one of the wooden pillars, gagged me so I wouldn't scream and started drilling me.

He used a very thick injection needle, the likes of which I had never seen before, and pierced my huge, grotesque nipples. Piercing the sensitive tits already hurt immensely, but it got even worse when he forced the needle to the sides to widen the hole.

After the tits, the boy pierced right in the middle of my ears; it wasn't in the lobe like they do with earrings; it was right in the middle of them. The holes painfully burst the ears' folds; I felt like they were being ripped apart.

I moaned in despair, I cried profusely, but he continued painfully opening the holes for a long time until he was able to pass through them the steel rings, four-inch rings, at least a quarter of an inch thick.

After he placed the rings, he used a blowtorch to weld them closed permanently.

I had already almost passed out from the painful process and still felt my nipples pulsing extremely painfully when he grabbed my dick.

I struggled in despair, and for the first time, I could test how solid the structure I had built was. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I tried to struggle, the structure didn't even shake. He was able to firmly and calmly hold my immense, thick cock, pierce it and make the same cruel and painful enlargement of the hole to install the steel ring on it.

I spent the night tied to the post and covered in sweat, tears, and blood that oozed abundantly from my open wounds. The steel rings seemed to weigh many kilos! My tits and dick hurt terribly and every hour, my Owner or Toy came to rotate the rings so that they wouldn't stick during the healing process. This process of turning the rings on the wounds hurt so much that I became desperate and shook in panic.

I was tied like that for two days, and I understood that that wooden structure and I were now definitively linked. Me and the wooden beams were now the same thing.