Now I'm feeling butterflies in my stomach and another one running up my spine; my whole body is shaking a lot! At the same time, my cock is hard as a rock and throbs, dripping precum.
I've always done everything to get here; I want to be here, in this place, in this role.
Everything we agreed on was just between us; none of my friends know where I am now. If I never leave this warehouse, no one but them will know where I am. I wanted it this way; this possibility turns me on even more. I'm not here for the money, I'm not getting anything; what brought me to this place was my strongest sexual desires! I couldn't say no to their proposal.
The middle-class suburban house is full of sadistic old gays like these two; I don't even know how many there are. They were very clear with me: they're a group of sadistic old gays who wanted a young masochist to use as a sex toy for an entire weekend. They explained to me that they're sadists, they get off on humiliating me, hurting me, and seeing me suffer.
I arrived at this house last night; they stripped me naked right at the entrance. Since I entered the house, I was treated like an inferior piece of shit, with slaps, insults, and spitting in my face. I've sucked their cocks, been fucked several times, and they've masturbated me dozens of times, each time I've gotten a hard-on.
They are super excited, eager, and happy to have me here to be used and abused without limits. Now we're in the warehouse where they'll finally tie me securely to the ceiling, gag me, and prepare me to be mercilessly whipped and tortured. We agreed that I would be tied tightly, so I couldn't escape or protect myself from the lashes. I'm drawn and horny to the idea of being completely unable to escape. I even asked to be gagged so that I couldn't beg, so my screams wouldn't interfere with the beating.
They said I'd hang here being whipped for twenty-four hours, and that whatever I bleed, shit, or piss would drip between my legs. We agreed that even if I passed out, they could continue whipping me as much as they wanted. I hope that after so many hours of torture they'll release me and take me to a hospital, I hope so. But if it ends differently, there's nothing I can do, and that's what I want; that risk excites me. If I die, I'll die with a hard-on.
Since yesterday, each of them who arrived brought the whips they intended to use on me, one larger, thicker, and heavier than the other, and happily showed off their favorite toys. Besides proudly and passionately showing off their toys, they happily told me they're going to burn me with cigars, that they're going to stick things up my ass, that they've brought pliers to crush my legs and balls, and that they have electrical devices to shock me.
As they spoke, I trembled with excitement, my cock grew hard, and they asked me to masturbate. Everything they said and showed excited me; I masturbated dozens of times during the night.
Now, as they tie me up, I feel the scariest moment has arrived: in a few minutes, I'll be bound and gagged, ready to suffer brutal torture and beatings. I hear the others excitedly entering the shed with their whips and toys, eager to use them on them.
My whole body trembles with a mix of fear and excitement. I turn to one of the men and make my last request before the gag.
"I just ask that, during the spanking, if my cock gets hard, can you masturbate me? Please masturbate me, okay?"
