Nigerian Nightmare Part 1
- 3 years ago
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*** Nigerian Nightmare *** - Part 3 free porn video
Baba and Daniel half-drowned me when they dumped me in a
bath of cold water and began cleaning me up with a hand
broom and scrubbing brush.
They forced my head under the water several times, and
when I came up for air, they targeted my face with hot
water from the shower head.
'I really like this one, Dan,' said Baba. 'He's so-o-o
weak and willing, and so-o-o pretty and bony.'
I was clearly no match for their great strength, and they
knew it, so I just flounced about in the bath as they took
full advantage of my 'weak and willing' body.
'The doctor is gonna like him, too,' said Daniel. 'He's
going to torture him good.'
'Yes,' Baba agreed. 'Dr. Harper is bound to keep this one
on the bondage bench for a couple of days. He's crazy like
that.'
The words 'torture' and 'crazy' triggered an adrenalin
rush that sent me in to a blind panic. I had nowhere to
go, especially with Baba's powerful hands holding me down,
but still the urge to flee took over my body completely.
'Hold on to him tight, Baba,' Daniel barked. 'The little
fucker doesn't want to play nice anymore.'
'Silly boy,' said Baba. 'Mr. Teene's bum-boys have no say
in when or where they go. They simply bend over and endure
the pain or pleasure.'
Daniel slapped me hard across the face, which hurt like
fuck.
'Don't play up, boy,' he said. 'Dr. Harper is one of our
best clients; he's firm but fair. So if he likes you, Mr.
Teene won't pimp you out to anyone else for a good long
while.'
It was then that I was hauled out of the bath and handed a
small towel. I only had a few minutes to dry off before my
ankles and wrists were bound tightly with duct tape.
'Because of the bag,' said Baba, 'I don't want to tape up
your mouth. So keep you trap shut during the ride across
town.'
'If you call out for help,' Daniel added, 'I'll slice off
your nuts and throw you in the canal, got that?'
I nodded my head as Baba left the bathroom to get 'the
bag'.
* * *
Everything went black when the sleeping bag was placed
over my head and dropped to the floor, and then zipped up
fully. With only my feet sticking out of the bag, the two
Nigerians wrapped duct tape round the material covering my
lower legs.
I was then grabbed by one man and thrown over the shoulder
of the other, before being carried out of the bungalow at
breakneck speed.
I bumped around in the back of the van as it sped across
town. My boyfriend and I had been a*****ed by a bunch of
modern-day slave traders, and Mr. Teene was going to pimp
us out to men like Dr. Harper. We were now lost souls, and
our fate was irrevocably sealed.
Deep down, the fear of being fished out of a canal when
Mr. Teene's clients had tired of me was being suppressed
by the thought of all that hard, dominant sex. My cock
began to twitch as Mr. Pain and Mr. Pleasure began to
argue with Mr. Self-Preservation over who really had my
best interests at heart. Of course, any opportunity to
escape would be seriously considered, but Mr. Fear had to
be absolutely sure I wouldn't be risking my nuts if things
went awry.
I just couldn't believe how ambivalent I was about this
potentially life-threatening situation: one minute, I
would be terrified of being ****d and tortured, and then
possibly killed by my a*****ors; another minute, I would
be really keen on submitting fully to my a*****ors, in the
hope that they would release me as a reward - clearly my
cock was ruling my head in the latter, lamebrain scenario.
* * *
A lot of metal and wooden door-banging occurred when the
van eventually came to a halt. I was unceremoniously
pulled from the vehicle and carried through a doorway,
which left me with a painful bump to the head.
Down a flight of stairs and two doorways later, I was
dumped on to a concrete floor.
'Sorry the delivery is late, doctor,' said Baba, 'but Mr.
Teene wanted to make sure you got the best of the bunch
first. We rushed him over as fast as we could.'
'No problem, Baba,' said Dr. Harper. 'I have a patient on
the bench at the moment, and two more waiting their turn
in the boxes back there. What's this one called?'
'Crawler,' Daniel replied. 'Mr. Teene christened this one
Crawler.'
'Excellent,' said Dr. Harper. 'Let's hope Crawler likes
rubber bondage, breath control and electro torture; plus
ball-bashing and forced milking. The boy on the bondage
bench has been wriggling about in that rubber sleep-sack
for almost an hour now. He so wants to cum, but I just
can't get his testes to give up their seed. He must be so
frustrated.'
All three men laughed as I was suddenly pulled to my feet
and unzipped from the sleeping bag. I peered out through
half-open eyes as the lights in the room dazzled me for a
minute or two.
Dr. Harper's lair was large and spacious, and lit with two
rows of fluorescent lights. The brick walls were painted
white, as was the ceiling and flagstone floor, and the
room resembled a cellar that had been converted in to a
clinical torture chamber.
I wobbled and nearly lost my balance when Daniel dropped
to his knees and hastily removed the tape securing the
sleeping bag to my lower legs. He then freed me from the
bag completely.
Dr. Harper smiled as he looked me up and down. He was a
tall, muscular man, with an unsettling air of menace about
him. I swallowed hard as I took in what he was wearing: a
full set of theatre blues, as worn by surgeons, and a pair
of white, mid-calf, rubber boots.
Daniel squeezed my right arse-cheek as the bondage master
stared longingly at my cock and ball-sac.
'You will call me Sir,' he said. 'I know the title is well
overused in these situations, but we do need to keep our
relationship on a sound footing. I will call you Crawler,
slave or slug, and promise to do my utmost to make your
stay here as uncomfortable as possible.'
Daniel squeezed my arse-cheek again, as a prompt to answer
the man with respect.
'Thank you, Sir,' I said passively. 'I will do my best
to...'
'Obey and suffer,' Baba put in.
'He's a fine looking boy,' said Dr. Harper to Baba. 'I'm
sure I can turn him in to a well trained slave. He has
"wimp" written all over him.'
'Do you want us to remove the duct tape and chain him to
the wall?' Daniel asked.
'Yes,' the doctor replied. 'He can stand and observe what
a patient-cum-slave must endure to keep me amused.'
The tape securing my ankles and wrists was swiftly, and
painfully, removed; and once free, I was frogmarched over
to the nearest wall by Mr. Teene's henchmen. My arms and
legs were then spread apart and restrained by manacles to
four ring-bolts anchored in the wall.
I stood against the wall and shivered. My view of the room
was now unrestricted - Baba and Daniel had stepped aside
to admire their handiwork. Dr. Harper's torture chamber
was more oblong than square, with three wooden, coffin-
shaped boxes standing upright against the far wall. They
were painted white and bolted to the brickwork.
The long wall on my right was bedecked with all manner of
bondage and torture equipment. A row of leather hoods and
straps topped a row of riding crops, paddles and whips.
All the above items were black in colour, as was the ropes
and rubber tubes on the bottom row of the array.
Four black latex suits hung in a line from the wall on my
left. The frogman-like suits looked quite menacing, as
they eerily watched over the bondage bench in the centre
of the room.
The sturdy wooden bench was black in colour and fitted
with an array of restraining rings. It was the size and
shape of a large bed, and stood some three-feet off the
floor. The rubber sleep-sack, which held Dr. Harper's
frustrated patient, lay centre stage, and was secured to
the bench by a dozen or more leather straps.
The shiny black cocoon held its hapless captive in limbo,
with only his hard-standing cock and hairless ball-sac
exposed to the light. Two small straps, with electrical
wires attached, were wrapped around his genitals. The
wires ran off to an electrical control box, which bristled
with buttons, lights and switches.
The patient's head was enclosed in a tight-fitting leather
hood, with some kind of gas mask attached. A short, rubber
breathing tube protruded from the mask, which reinforced
the impression in my mind that I was looking at a giant
insect, or shiny black alien.
'Where did you find the bum-boy on the bench, Dr. Harper?'
asked Daniel.
'Oh, he and his two friends belong to Mr. Stringer,' the
doctor replied. 'They took the wrong pills at the wrong
party and were nabbed by the man himself. He spent a day
or so initiating them, and then asked me to train them for
a couple of weeks.'
'Can we watch you bring the bum-boy off?' asked Baba. 'We
won't get in the way.'
'And you did say, last time, that an audience helps you
get the best out of a slave,' Daniel added.
'True, true,' said Dr. Harper. 'You'll have to strip off
though, just like last time.'
I stood and watched the two Nigerians shed their clothes
in double quick time - their coal-black bodies looked just
as stark and sinister in the white room as the bench, the
latex suits and the array of torture equipment. The sight
of their muscular bodies made my cock twitch - I so loved
the look of all that raw fuck-power on display.
The doctor and his two admirers walked over to the bondage
bench. They gathered round the cocoon's midsection, which
left me with the view of two bare-arsed men and the bum-
boy's enclosed head and feet.
The first groan I heard was swiftly followed by the sight
of the bum-boy's head jerking back and forth wildly, as if
it was on a spring, and his feet moving up and down inside
the sack at a rapid rate of knots.
His muffled groans continued as he thrashed around within
the confines of the sleep-sack. The zapper attached to his
genitals was causing his body to twist and turn every few
minutes. The poor sod was trapped in his second skin and
suffering badly.
All three men seemed delighted with the convulsions and
sounds the bum-boy was making: he was certainly emitting
some strange noises as the doctor stimulated his cock to
the nth degree.
After a good twenty minutes or so, Daniel moved aside to
allow me to see the end of the doctor's torturous edging.
A muffled outburst of verbal abuse filled the room as the
bum-boy's cock released a torrent of creamy white spunk.
The boy's body continued to convulse as the doctor encour-
aged his slave to, 'keep it coming, boy. I need to see
more.'
I stood and shuddered as I realized the zapper would be
attached to my cock soon: I would be forced in to one of
those rubber wetsuits, or a sleep-sack, and milked by the
doctor for hours on end. I looked down, and my traitorous
cock was fully erect.
The End
bath of cold water and began cleaning me up with a hand
broom and scrubbing brush.
They forced my head under the water several times, and
when I came up for air, they targeted my face with hot
water from the shower head.
'I really like this one, Dan,' said Baba. 'He's so-o-o
weak and willing, and so-o-o pretty and bony.'
I was clearly no match for their great strength, and they
knew it, so I just flounced about in the bath as they took
full advantage of my 'weak and willing' body.
'The doctor is gonna like him, too,' said Daniel. 'He's
going to torture him good.'
'Yes,' Baba agreed. 'Dr. Harper is bound to keep this one
on the bondage bench for a couple of days. He's crazy like
that.'
The words 'torture' and 'crazy' triggered an adrenalin
rush that sent me in to a blind panic. I had nowhere to
go, especially with Baba's powerful hands holding me down,
but still the urge to flee took over my body completely.
'Hold on to him tight, Baba,' Daniel barked. 'The little
fucker doesn't want to play nice anymore.'
'Silly boy,' said Baba. 'Mr. Teene's bum-boys have no say
in when or where they go. They simply bend over and endure
the pain or pleasure.'
Daniel slapped me hard across the face, which hurt like
fuck.
'Don't play up, boy,' he said. 'Dr. Harper is one of our
best clients; he's firm but fair. So if he likes you, Mr.
Teene won't pimp you out to anyone else for a good long
while.'
It was then that I was hauled out of the bath and handed a
small towel. I only had a few minutes to dry off before my
ankles and wrists were bound tightly with duct tape.
'Because of the bag,' said Baba, 'I don't want to tape up
your mouth. So keep you trap shut during the ride across
town.'
'If you call out for help,' Daniel added, 'I'll slice off
your nuts and throw you in the canal, got that?'
I nodded my head as Baba left the bathroom to get 'the
bag'.
* * *
Everything went black when the sleeping bag was placed
over my head and dropped to the floor, and then zipped up
fully. With only my feet sticking out of the bag, the two
Nigerians wrapped duct tape round the material covering my
lower legs.
I was then grabbed by one man and thrown over the shoulder
of the other, before being carried out of the bungalow at
breakneck speed.
I bumped around in the back of the van as it sped across
town. My boyfriend and I had been a*****ed by a bunch of
modern-day slave traders, and Mr. Teene was going to pimp
us out to men like Dr. Harper. We were now lost souls, and
our fate was irrevocably sealed.
Deep down, the fear of being fished out of a canal when
Mr. Teene's clients had tired of me was being suppressed
by the thought of all that hard, dominant sex. My cock
began to twitch as Mr. Pain and Mr. Pleasure began to
argue with Mr. Self-Preservation over who really had my
best interests at heart. Of course, any opportunity to
escape would be seriously considered, but Mr. Fear had to
be absolutely sure I wouldn't be risking my nuts if things
went awry.
I just couldn't believe how ambivalent I was about this
potentially life-threatening situation: one minute, I
would be terrified of being ****d and tortured, and then
possibly killed by my a*****ors; another minute, I would
be really keen on submitting fully to my a*****ors, in the
hope that they would release me as a reward - clearly my
cock was ruling my head in the latter, lamebrain scenario.
* * *
A lot of metal and wooden door-banging occurred when the
van eventually came to a halt. I was unceremoniously
pulled from the vehicle and carried through a doorway,
which left me with a painful bump to the head.
Down a flight of stairs and two doorways later, I was
dumped on to a concrete floor.
'Sorry the delivery is late, doctor,' said Baba, 'but Mr.
Teene wanted to make sure you got the best of the bunch
first. We rushed him over as fast as we could.'
'No problem, Baba,' said Dr. Harper. 'I have a patient on
the bench at the moment, and two more waiting their turn
in the boxes back there. What's this one called?'
'Crawler,' Daniel replied. 'Mr. Teene christened this one
Crawler.'
'Excellent,' said Dr. Harper. 'Let's hope Crawler likes
rubber bondage, breath control and electro torture; plus
ball-bashing and forced milking. The boy on the bondage
bench has been wriggling about in that rubber sleep-sack
for almost an hour now. He so wants to cum, but I just
can't get his testes to give up their seed. He must be so
frustrated.'
All three men laughed as I was suddenly pulled to my feet
and unzipped from the sleeping bag. I peered out through
half-open eyes as the lights in the room dazzled me for a
minute or two.
Dr. Harper's lair was large and spacious, and lit with two
rows of fluorescent lights. The brick walls were painted
white, as was the ceiling and flagstone floor, and the
room resembled a cellar that had been converted in to a
clinical torture chamber.
I wobbled and nearly lost my balance when Daniel dropped
to his knees and hastily removed the tape securing the
sleeping bag to my lower legs. He then freed me from the
bag completely.
Dr. Harper smiled as he looked me up and down. He was a
tall, muscular man, with an unsettling air of menace about
him. I swallowed hard as I took in what he was wearing: a
full set of theatre blues, as worn by surgeons, and a pair
of white, mid-calf, rubber boots.
Daniel squeezed my right arse-cheek as the bondage master
stared longingly at my cock and ball-sac.
'You will call me Sir,' he said. 'I know the title is well
overused in these situations, but we do need to keep our
relationship on a sound footing. I will call you Crawler,
slave or slug, and promise to do my utmost to make your
stay here as uncomfortable as possible.'
Daniel squeezed my arse-cheek again, as a prompt to answer
the man with respect.
'Thank you, Sir,' I said passively. 'I will do my best
to...'
'Obey and suffer,' Baba put in.
'He's a fine looking boy,' said Dr. Harper to Baba. 'I'm
sure I can turn him in to a well trained slave. He has
"wimp" written all over him.'
'Do you want us to remove the duct tape and chain him to
the wall?' Daniel asked.
'Yes,' the doctor replied. 'He can stand and observe what
a patient-cum-slave must endure to keep me amused.'
The tape securing my ankles and wrists was swiftly, and
painfully, removed; and once free, I was frogmarched over
to the nearest wall by Mr. Teene's henchmen. My arms and
legs were then spread apart and restrained by manacles to
four ring-bolts anchored in the wall.
I stood against the wall and shivered. My view of the room
was now unrestricted - Baba and Daniel had stepped aside
to admire their handiwork. Dr. Harper's torture chamber
was more oblong than square, with three wooden, coffin-
shaped boxes standing upright against the far wall. They
were painted white and bolted to the brickwork.
The long wall on my right was bedecked with all manner of
bondage and torture equipment. A row of leather hoods and
straps topped a row of riding crops, paddles and whips.
All the above items were black in colour, as was the ropes
and rubber tubes on the bottom row of the array.
Four black latex suits hung in a line from the wall on my
left. The frogman-like suits looked quite menacing, as
they eerily watched over the bondage bench in the centre
of the room.
The sturdy wooden bench was black in colour and fitted
with an array of restraining rings. It was the size and
shape of a large bed, and stood some three-feet off the
floor. The rubber sleep-sack, which held Dr. Harper's
frustrated patient, lay centre stage, and was secured to
the bench by a dozen or more leather straps.
The shiny black cocoon held its hapless captive in limbo,
with only his hard-standing cock and hairless ball-sac
exposed to the light. Two small straps, with electrical
wires attached, were wrapped around his genitals. The
wires ran off to an electrical control box, which bristled
with buttons, lights and switches.
The patient's head was enclosed in a tight-fitting leather
hood, with some kind of gas mask attached. A short, rubber
breathing tube protruded from the mask, which reinforced
the impression in my mind that I was looking at a giant
insect, or shiny black alien.
'Where did you find the bum-boy on the bench, Dr. Harper?'
asked Daniel.
'Oh, he and his two friends belong to Mr. Stringer,' the
doctor replied. 'They took the wrong pills at the wrong
party and were nabbed by the man himself. He spent a day
or so initiating them, and then asked me to train them for
a couple of weeks.'
'Can we watch you bring the bum-boy off?' asked Baba. 'We
won't get in the way.'
'And you did say, last time, that an audience helps you
get the best out of a slave,' Daniel added.
'True, true,' said Dr. Harper. 'You'll have to strip off
though, just like last time.'
I stood and watched the two Nigerians shed their clothes
in double quick time - their coal-black bodies looked just
as stark and sinister in the white room as the bench, the
latex suits and the array of torture equipment. The sight
of their muscular bodies made my cock twitch - I so loved
the look of all that raw fuck-power on display.
The doctor and his two admirers walked over to the bondage
bench. They gathered round the cocoon's midsection, which
left me with the view of two bare-arsed men and the bum-
boy's enclosed head and feet.
The first groan I heard was swiftly followed by the sight
of the bum-boy's head jerking back and forth wildly, as if
it was on a spring, and his feet moving up and down inside
the sack at a rapid rate of knots.
His muffled groans continued as he thrashed around within
the confines of the sleep-sack. The zapper attached to his
genitals was causing his body to twist and turn every few
minutes. The poor sod was trapped in his second skin and
suffering badly.
All three men seemed delighted with the convulsions and
sounds the bum-boy was making: he was certainly emitting
some strange noises as the doctor stimulated his cock to
the nth degree.
After a good twenty minutes or so, Daniel moved aside to
allow me to see the end of the doctor's torturous edging.
A muffled outburst of verbal abuse filled the room as the
bum-boy's cock released a torrent of creamy white spunk.
The boy's body continued to convulse as the doctor encour-
aged his slave to, 'keep it coming, boy. I need to see
more.'
I stood and shuddered as I realized the zapper would be
attached to my cock soon: I would be forced in to one of
those rubber wetsuits, or a sleep-sack, and milked by the
doctor for hours on end. I looked down, and my traitorous
cock was fully erect.
The End
Bess
- 25.02.2020
- 41
- 0
Nigerian Nightmare Part 1
- 2 years ago
- 25
- 0
Nigerian Nightmare Part 3
- 3 years ago
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- 0
