The Christmas KO

Contains: bondage, breath control, edge play, ko

Copyright © 2003 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

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I came home from Christmas dinner with some friends this past year and was particularly horny and feeling pretty aggressive.  I decided that I would take my Christmas present by force this year.  I got home and went online where I luckily found Ron.  We talked and I told him that I was in a mood to hurt someone, and to come over.  It was a brief chat, and he quickly agreed.  We switch off from time to time, and often wrestle for dominance.  This time, I was going to alter the balance of power.  I told him he should be wearing some old and worn clothing. He said he'd be over shortly.

I changed my clothes quickly. Off came the sweater and slacks.  On went the desert BDUs, black combat boots, and grey sleeveless t-shirt.  I wanted to have all my supplies on hand and ready when he came in the door.  I threw the Gebauer canister of ethyl in the right thigh pocket.  The EMT shears went in my left thigh pocket, along with a rag.  I took my grey Russian gas mask, and stuffed it into the back of my pants, hanging over the side.  Finally, I stowed rolls of duct tape throughout the apartment.  There's no such thing as too much duct tape.  If I didn't know better, I would swear you could smell it throughout my place.  God, I love that smell.


He showed up about an hour later, buzzing in at the front door to my apartment building.  Knowing about how long it takes to get up to the 12th floor by the elevator, I had to rush to get the last bits ready.  By the time he got to my door, I was ready.  All the lights were off, and the TV was on loud.  The door to my apartment was unlocked, and ajar.  The ethyl can was in my right hand and I had just finished spraying the rag in my left hand as the door creaked open.

I was hiding behind the door in an alcove as he stuck his head in.  The bright hall, and the loud and bright TV facing the door served to mask my presence.  "John?" Ron looked in the door and stepped inside.  I finished slowly putting the canister back in the pocket of my BDU's.

I had the rag with ethyl ready as he came in.  As he opened the door and came in, I quickly slammed the door shut and rammed him into the wall, face to face, I locked one arm around the back of his neck to hold my other arm in place around his mouth and nose.

He didn't know it was coming so he fought pretty hard.  He managed to get one fist into my gut one time, but I was too close for him to really manage any pain.  We shortly toppled to the floor, with my legs wrapped around his arms and torso.  Once we were down, it was pretty much over.  He's got a little more strength than me and we're both about 5'10. However, I've got about 20 - 25 pounds on him. Combine that with the increasing effects of the ethyl chloride, and he was failing fast.

There!  He was sedated enough.  I quickly threw the russian gasmask over his head. It would make it harder for him to avoid the ethyl.  The additional benefit to this mask was that it was particularly loud on the exhales.  Not only do I love the sound of breathing through a gas mask, but it would also help me keep track of his breathing.

Ron started to stir again, so I grabbed the rag and the ethyl canister again.  He grunted as I wrapped the rag around the intake of the mask. Pushing the plunger of the ethyl container, a thin stream of pure ethyl chloride hit the rag, soaking it quickly.  The sudden surge of vapors hit him on his next breath.  I watched as his eyes burst wide.  He had been recovering quickly from the first hit, and the intensity of the smell made him react strongly.  However, the wonderful thing about ethyl is as fast as it wears off, it takes effect just as quickly.

As he settled down and his breathing calmed, I finally took a good look at him.  He was wearing a pair of blue denim jeans, a pair of tan work boots and a faded plaid cotton shirt.  I knew he was clean shaven under the mask.  This good ex-navy boy kept himself clean cut.  A real hottie.

Re-administering the ethyl a third time, I got up off the boy and rolled him over onto his stomach.  He was going to be a handful when I finally did let him wake up.  I grabbed the nearest roll of duct tape. Pulling his arms back behind him, I proceeded to wrap his wrists together, palms facing each other.  Turning around, I pulled his legs up into the air and started wrapping his feet together. No art or comfort involved here.  No worries about circulation.  He was going to fight, and I wanted him to regret every strain he made.

I rolled him onto his side and pulled his shirt out of his pants.  I decided to indulge myself and ripped the buttons out, spreading the shirt wide to show his flat, hairy torso.  I have to say, that's never as easy as it looks in porn or movies.

I pulled the rag off his intake to make sure he was getting clean air now.  It was time for Ron to wake up, and feel what I was going to be doing to him. His breathing was still steady, no signs of waking up yet.

Rolling him back on his stomach, I wrapped his hands and fingers quickly in tape.  Then I lifted his legs, and wrapped several times around his knees.  He wasn't going anywhere, except as a worm, squirming around.

He started making noises.  Sounded like he was speaking Japanese as some point, then talking to his former Navy shipmates at another.  He was coming around, but not back yet.  Rolling him back onto his side, I pulled the gasmask off to give him more air.  I wanted to watch his eyes.  Ron's eyes are so telling in showing his pain.

Unbuttoning his fly, I grabbed him by the balls with my left hand.  With him lying on his right side facing me, I smacked him across the face with my right hand and he started coming around more quickly.  As he started getting coherent, I adjusted my grip of his balls and began to squeezed.  Soon he was moaning.  I don't know if he knew what or why he was hurting, but he knew he was in pain.

As he returned to coherence, I ramped up the squeezing of his balls.  In short time, he was moaning loudly.  His eyes opened and I could see the anguish in them.  The final realization that he was fucked, and there was nothing he could do or say about it.

I leaned in close, feeling his breath as he tried to keep calm in the face of the pain, smelling the sweat that was starting to pour off of him.  The bastard wasn't afraid though.  I leaned in closer and braced his head with my right hand as I raped his mouth with my tongue.

He was hesitant at first, but started to let his guard down quickly.  That was when I moved.  I sucked his tongue into my mouth.  Using a lot of suction and a bit of biting, I had him bound, head to toe.  His head was locked wherever I wanted it.  He let out a whining yelp as he tried to pull away from me, tried to pull his tongue back.  Every move caused him more pain.  He soon realized his only hope was to surrender.  It's amazing how much control you can get over someone by their tongue.

The pressure on his balls mounted.  I shifted my grip slightly and started to apply pressure on his balls from other angles as I pulled them away from his body.  He rebelled, but with his body restrained down to his tongue even, he wasn't going anywhere.

Finally, I let his mouth go.  He pulled his head back with a massive sigh as I upped the pressure on his balls even more.  Ron amazes me with the amount of torment his balls can take.  He and I need to have a ball torture competition again some time to see who's more stubborn.

"Ron, here's your only instructions, if my neighbors hear you, they'll complain about the noise.  I would hate to think how annoyed I'd become with you disturbed my neighbors.  Try to keep it quiet." He just glared back at me.

Forming my thumb and forefinger into a very small hole at the top of his scrotum, I began the finishing maneuver. My other fingers increased the pressure on his balls to as much as I could deliver.  After the steady build, I'd jumped from half strength to full bore ball crushing.  The human male anatomy is amazing.  Your balls are like mice, when caught between a rock and a hard place, they'll slip through the smallest hole you can imagine.  First one, and then the other of his balls slipped through with a satisfying "pop".

Ron threw his head back, gritting his teeth and grunting.  If I still had his tongue in my mouth, he may have bit it off.  He thrashed like a madman on the floor of my apartment, nearly bashing his head into a coffee table.

It took Ron about a minute to recompose himself. "You are a sadistic bastard!"

Smiling down at him, "Thanks Ron, you say the sweetest things."

"You're welcome," he spit back at me.  We kept eye contact for all of 5 seconds before the chuckling began.

"Told you I was in a sadistic mood.  Merry Christmas to both of us... and to both of us, a good night.". Cutting him free, I finished stripping him and dragged the drained boy into my bed for a good night's sleep.