Temple of the Five Agonies (m/groupM) - repost

Temple of the Five Agonies

 

Chuck and Jay watched the road as they bounced along the uneven terrain. The temple compound was up in the hills of Marin CA, on the side of Mt. Tamalpias, far away from the prying eyes of tourists or locals. Jay was both excited and nervous. This would be his first summer job (other than a lemonade stand), and he still didn’t know exactly what his duties would entail. He hoped they would be interesting.

After about seven minutes of potholes and ditches they arrived. The temple, a beautiful Japanese pagoda, took up the horizon and had that warmness that comes from being made entirely of wood, crafted with love and care. They parked in front of the main entrance and got out. Jay’s dad, Chuck, was a good friend of the abbot, and he had volunteered Jay to spend the summer working in this prestigious get-away. He wasn’t too certain what his son would be up to, but the abbot had assured him it would be meaningful, enjoyable work.

They were greeted by a functionary who showed them in, with Chuck carrying Jay’s suitcase. They were brought into a long hallway which they followed until they reached the dormitories. Jay apparently had his own private room, sectioned off by sliding doors. The room was spare but comfortable and Chuck set down the suitcase. He turned to his son.

“Ok partner. This is the end of the line. I’ll come pick you up in about three months. Do right by the abbot and behave yourself.” He ruffled his son’s hair and left. Chuck was never one for long goodbyes.

When the acolyte returned, he silently beckoned for Jay to follow him. They passed through a courtyard with an immaculately tended garden (complete with raked sand) and into a huge hall. Seated on zabuton (flat square cushions) were about thirty guys, all seated in the seiza position (essentially sitting on one’s own legs) and all wearing nothing but a short white terrycloth kilt. They were all quietly meditating.

The abbot, an elderly but stern looking Japanese man got up from his own contemplations and greeted Jay warmly. “Welcome to our temple, young Mr. McCullen. I hope your journey was comfortable.”

“It was fine.”

“Good. I know you must be wondering what this place is, and what you’ll be doing.”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Well then, let us tour the temple, and I shall tell you.”

“This,” he said, “is the meditation room. Here our clients reach inner peace and find strength of mind. Everyone you see here is an athlete of some kind and comes here to find the fire, wood and metal within their ki. We make them strong.”

Jay looked around. Sure enough, each guy (almost all Caucasian) was the model of physical perfection – handsome, muscular and trim. He thought he even recognized some of them from sports broadcasts. Clearly only famous athletes could afford this place.

“In here, it will be your job to test their focus. In the sitting meditation you will randomly kick their testicles while they sit there. No one is allowed to speak except to thank you for the punishment. If they make any other noise, you are to punish them again until they gain self control and thank you.”

Jay looked surprised. “They’ll really let me do that?”

“Yes, and they expect it. Through the lens of pain the mind sees clearly.”

“As you can see you will have easy access to their manhood’s, just lift up the kilts and kick what you find there. It is up to you how hard you kick them. The harder you kick, the more discipline they learn.”

“Later on in the day there will be standing meditation, sometimes with them holding buckets of sand, and they will wear nothing. You will choose individuals and come up behind them. Clap your hands over their hanging fruit to test them yet again. Should they falter, repeat yourself until they stay still.”

The two of them stood in the garden, and Jay took it in, finding it peaceful and wondrous. The abbot continued.

“After the evening meal they will practice martial arts to tone their bodies and improve their reflexes. I will send you to those men who fall short of my teachings and you will punish their livelihoods in whatever manner you deem fit.”

Jay was in awe. It must take a lot of discipline to withstand so much nut punishment in one day.

“You will get up early for our morning tai chi, and while we go through the postures you will single out a man and squeezed his balls while he performs them. This is a test of both endurance and patience. Then you will all shower together and then have breakfast. This cycle will repeat itself each day.”

“I understand.” Jay was a bit intimidated by the prospect of nutting all these big guys, but at the same time it was also a little thrilling. Everyone loved a good nut shot. He’d never felt up another guy before, and he couldn’t help wondering what all those testicles would feel like, squishing between his toes and fingers.

They had been walking through the temple’s many rooms, and now stopped in front of the dormitories. “There is one more thing that needs to be said. That of onanism. Those who come here are prohibited from touching themselves and obtaining relief. We place the same restriction on you.” Jay gulped. He was sixteen. Three months of no jacking off?

“Instead you will receive oral release from the men here. It is an ancient tradition which teaches humility and subservience. Men can develop oversized egos, and it is our job to deflate them. Each day one man will be assigned to pleasure you, and it is important that you let him. Each one will thank you for the opportunity to put someone else above themselves.”

“Uhm. How will you keep them, us, from, from . . you know?”

“A monk patrols the dormitories at night and punishes anyone caught breaking the rules.”

“In their balls, right?”

“Yes.”

Jay felt he was catching on. “Right. No flying solo.” He hoped this part of the conversation would end soon.

“So,” said the abbot. They had reached Jay’s room. “Inside your dresser you will find the uniforms you will wear each day. Go now and relax. Tomorrow you will begin your duties. Tonight, meditate upon your role in this temple and consider what you will be doing. Good evening.” The abbot bowed and left the room, presumable to resume his place in the great meditation hall.

That night he was brought food and he ate in thoughtful contemplation. It was certainly not what he’d expected, but there was something rational about toughening up a guy’s main weak spot. When he went to bed, he heard all the men silently file into the sleeping hall, and lay down on their mats. There was no talking, just peaceful silence, earned from a hard day meditation and physical exercise.

He was awakened by a rap on the rice-paper screen doors. It was just after dawn. Jay sleepily found his uniform and pulled it on. It was a two piece outfit made of pure silk, midnight blue in color, and was loose and billowy except at the wrists and ankles where it cinched tight. He felt like he was slipping into the role of some Asian martial arts master, and as he’d never worn silk before, the sensuousness of the material threatened to give him a woody. In fact he usually masturbated first thing in the morning. He hoped his “relief” would show up soon.

He followed the men out to the back courtyard. They were all wearing white karate outfits. The men lined up into perfect columns and began to imitate and mirror the abbot’s slow graceful movements. At first Jay wasn’t sure what to do: who should he choose? When should he choose them? All the guys were good looking, strong, in peak condition. There were redheads, blonds, brunettes, southern Europeans, northern Europeans, Slavs. It was a vast sea of male forms, all moving in perfect unison.

‘Well, I gotta choose someone,’ thought Jay to himself. He picked his way through the lines and chose a handsome, short redhead who had the physique of a runner. Gingerly, Jay reached between his legs. How was he going to find the guy’s nuts? To his surprise, the guy grasped his hand and guided it to one of his balls. It was fat and ripe. Jay got a good grip on the thing and began to press into it with his thumb. He could feel the springy ball flesh resist his attempts. It was rubbery and dense. The guy slowed down his already slow tai chi a bit, at first, but then seemed to adjust himself to the ache in his ball and caught up with everyone else. He didn’t seem to mind what Jay was doing at all. He seemed to expect it.

Jay was now faced with another dilemma – how long was he supposed to stay there? Was there a sign? Should he be looking for something? Jay didn’t know what to do, so he increased the pressure on the ball. He put his other hand down there and grasped the other nut. This too, he squeezed more and more firmly. The redhead’s body shuddered a bit and the guy closed his eyes in apparent concentration. Well, the abbot had said he was supposed to test them. Jay kept up the pressure for several minutes until the nutmeat in his hands started to swell, then he let go.

Naturally the guy’s body relaxed. Jay looked around. There was a tall guy who looked like a basketball player. He walked over to him. This time Jay wasn’t so tentative. He simply groped the guy’s groin until he found what he was looking for – two lemon sized balls hanging halfway down the guy’s thigh. Through the fabric, he began to squeeze both organs. They seemed less dense than the redhead’s, and his thumbs sank in. The man paid no attention to Jay and carried on with the exercises. If all of them had this reaction to nut-punishment, then summer was going to fly by, and . . . this was kinda fun!

Jay went through four more guys before the session ended. One of them seemed to have sensitive nuts and made the slightest groaning sound, but following instructions, Jay increased the pressure on the glands. Jay actually twisted and yanked on the nuts to make his point, and eventually the guy stopped responding and Jay let him go.

Now, apparently, it was shower time. He was given to understand this was the only time the men were allowed to talk, and he followed them all around the corner to a huge outdoor shower facility. It was open to the sky, made of hand sanded redwood and could accommodate all the men at one time. They stripped and before he could take off his own outfit, one of them came over. With extreme gentleness a guy with beautiful green eyes and brown hair undressed him and led him into the showers with one hand. When they reached their showerhead, the man smiled and pulled him under the hot water.

“My name is Garry. I’ve been assigned to you today. What’s your name?”

“Jay McCullen. I . . . I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“It’s cool. We all shower together. Here let me soap you up.” The guy’s hands pumped out some liquid soap which was in a carved niche, and lathered the young man up. Jay had a decent body for his age - he played a lot of sports, and he had the beginnings of a sculpted physique. All guys who weren’t already in conversation actually came over. “Hey, I’m John.” “Hi, I’m Tim” and so forth, and to Jay’s surprise they all seemed to want to get in on the action and soap him up. Naturally the boy got an erection. They soaped that up too. Almost with reverence, like they were handling some sort of sacred object. Jay had never thought of himself as gay, but he was beginning to wonder. All this attention was making him randy as hell.

There were too many of them to memorize all their names, but they all chatted with him, near him or across him, talking about the training regime, the food, the accommodations, their careers and so forth. It was a surreal experience to be, well, worshiped by all these hot jocks, as if they did this for everyone.

As he was washing Jay off, Gary asked, “You feeling horny?”

“A little bit,” said Jay admitted, a bit embarassed.

“No, that’s good. Here let me take care of you.” In full view of everyone, Garry kneeled in front of Jay and sucked in the teen’s rigid pole. Jay was of course self conscious, but the moment Garry started sucking, the boy forgot all about where he was. This was the first time Garry had ever gotten head, and the sensation was overwhelming. The warmth, the suction, the stimulation of the underside of his head, it was almost too much, and for what he presumed to be a straight guy, Garry seemed to be enjoying it too. In less than two minutes Jay shot his load into Garry’s warm mouth, and his chest was heaving with the experience, trying to catch his breath. He opened his eyes and noticed that the other guys were all watching with smiles on their faces. Here he was getting head in front of several dozen grown up men, and it felt completely natural and normal.

“Wait till it’s my turn, Jay. I’m going to suck you all the way to heaven,” commented one guy.

A body builder type disagreed. “No way. I’ve got the best mouth. You’ll see.” There appeared to be a natural one-upsmanship to see who could give the best blowjobs.

Garry smiled at Jay and took him to dry off, and then redressed him. Before they all went on with the day, Garry proffered some advice, “We’ll hook up later on. I had to cum three or four times a day when I was your age. We’re all going into sitting mediation now, and let me recommend you start the discipline with me. The abbot likes to see that you’re not emotionally attached to the guy who services you. OK?”

Jay nodded.

“And don’t worry about the busting, we’re used to it. It builds character!” Then Garry smiled, roguishly. “Oh, and by the way, you taste pretty good.”’

Jay gave a sloppy, self conscious grin, and blushed a little.

Inside, the guys were in their rows, waiting to meditate, their white kilts offering easy access to their manhood’s. When Jay came in, the abbot acknowledged him with a nod. Then the abbot talked about the finer details of zazen: how to breath, how to relax, and how to focus. When he stopped talking, all the men closed their eyes. A stillness settled on the room. Jay shrugged to himself. ‘I guess it’s my job to disrupt the stillness.’

As Garry suggested, Jay started with him. He walked in front of the brunette and looked between his legs. He could see the man’s heavy testes hanging loosely from the shower they’d just taken together. Jay flexed his toes. It was now or never. He calculated a moderate amount of force and then punted the guy’s nuts. WHAM. The organs rolled under the impact and jiggled frantically for a few seconds. Garry’s stomach tensed, but like a professional, he made no noise. Jay followed that up with two more kicks, and although Garry snorted a bit, under his breath, remained calm and focused.

“Thank you,” said Gary in a steady voice. Wow. These guys were well trained.

Jay moved on to a guy who had a tight gymnast’s build. This guy’s testicles were harder to find, and feeling bold, Jay kneeled to reach under the kilt to find them. The guy had a healthy pair but they were in a tight little scrotum. Still, they should be fine. Jay squeezed them in their sack, then stood back up and buried his foot into the guy’s crotch. The testicles smooshed off to each side. The blond let out an audible “Oof”. Jay looked over his shoulder at the abbot, who had been watching the whole time. The abbot nodded gravely at him. Jay took aim again. WHAM. The two eggs bounced under the impact. The blond reacted again, and gritted his teeth. WHAM. Four more kicks in the testicles until he mastered himself and remained still. After being thanked, Jay decided to move on. By the end of the session he’d punted about a dozen of the guys in the nuts, and most of them resisted the urge to groan or cry out. Those who didn’t got it again and again until Jay felt the abbot would be satisfied.

On one guy, Jay swore he felt the balls disappear into his abdomen, and it took extra kicks to bring them back. ‘That must have hurt,’ thought Jay

Lunch break was called and they all filed into a large room where knee-high tables were set with lacquered boxes filled with rice, vegetables and some lean but tasty meat. Not the richest meal Jay had ever eaten, but still healthy and filling. This place wasn’t at all bad, and Jay was kinda feeling the groove on this ball busting thing.

Back to the meditation room they went, and all the men took off their towels. Buckets of sand had been prepared, and they each picked up two, one for each hand. They stood an arm’s length from each other and held out the buckets, their legs spread for stability. Jay watched them set up, actually sort of eager to get on with it.

“Patience is the stillness of the mind, discipline is stillness of the soul. Breathe deeply into your hara and find your center. Do not think of the sand or its weight. Think only of your breath.” The abbot nodded to Jay and the boy began to prowl the room. He passed in front of each guy and noted which ones had the lowest hanging balls, ones he could easily get to from the back. He chose first an Irish stud with a lean frame and who was probably a tri-athlete. Jay kneeled behind the guy, raised his hands and clapped them as hard as he could over the swinging oysters. The man jolted. Jay repeated the maneuver. The second time he seemed prepared for the blow and remained steady. Jay moved on.

Since he’d picked on the one tall guy that morning, he decided to bust the only other giant. This guy looked like a Marine – shaved head, tough, wiry body, and he too had a pair of low hangers, the left one hanging significantly lower than the right. Jay got behind him and did his best to hurt the guy where he lived. The testicles swung wildly, but the guy seemed unphased. ‘Perhaps tall guys are tougher than normal,’ Jay mused. ‘Or maybe his really is military.’

He chose a studly Italian next, a guy with a large patch of pubic hair and a thick schlong. Jay had no choice but to include the guy’s penis in the action and slapped the whole damn package. The guy wasn’t as disciplined as the others. He moaned. Jay went to town on him, and had to nut the guy about six times before he finally shut up. Jay was starting to get off on the power he had over these guys. They could all snap him like a twig, but he got to bust their balls, and as much as he wanted with no consequences. Plus they were all really nice about it, and it didn’t hurt that they were physically perfect specimens.

All the guys seemed relieved when the half-hour of bucket holding ended, and many rubbed their sore arms (and their sore balls). It was now free time, and Garry led Jay to the privacy of Jay’s room where the twenty-something gave him another blow job. Even though Jay prepared himself for the experience in the hopes of making it last longer, he shot his wad in less than five minutes. Garry smiled as he wiped off a small dribble of cum on his mouth, and then left Jay to bask in the afterglow of sex.

Most of the men used their free time to hit the gym that was in one corner of the temple (they were athletes after all, and had to stay in shape), and then it was out to the back plaza to do their martial arts. They split into pre-assigned pairs and began to spar: kicking, hitting, blocking, and practicing their karate and judo moves. Some were using benign weapons like wooden swords and wooden sai, while others were just going hand to hand. None hit below the belt – apparently that was Jay’s job. The abbot walked among them and shouted out commands to improve their styles, and at one point halted in front of a pair.

“Stop! Eric-san, you are slow and lazy today. You must always give your best in every fight. Your enemy will rejoice to see your fatigue. Approach each battle as if your life is at stake! Eric-san, PRESENT!” The abbot waved Jay over. This “Eric” had spread his legs and put his arms behind his back, looking straightforward. Jay guess they would all do this when asked to “present”. Jay sized up this guy, probably in his early twenties, and looked like a wrestler. His balls looked especially vulnerable, and Jay decided to knee him. CRACK. Up came Jay’s kneecap into Eric’s unprotected testicles, and rammed them up into the guy’s lower stomach. Eventually they dropped back down into his sack.

“Thank you,” coughed the man. Jay nodded and the abbot moved on.

Jay got to rack about six guys in that session. One guy, the abbot had stand on one leg in the “crane” position, and Jay kicked the guy’s nut sack from the side. This was to instill the importance of keeping one’s balance in the face of adversity and pain.

After dinner, it was customary for the abbot to let one guy have a private session with Jay so that he could really give a thorough racking. Jay and a thickly built dude stood outside, and Jay was told to just kick the paste out of his nuts. Jay did so, and found himself getting horney again. Even though the guy was built like a brick privy, his nuts were still vulnerable, and Jay milked them for all they were worth.  The session lasted about 45 minutes. Jay was surprised the little organs didn’t bust wide open from the punishment, but apparently balls were tougher than they looked.

It was dusk and Jay went to the dorms with his victim limping slowly behind. There was Garry, waiting in Jay’s room, ready to give him a third helping of head, and this time Jay couldn’t help grabbing Garry’s head and face fucking him. Oh man, it felt good! When it was over, Garry put his hands together, bowed and thanked Jay for the opportunity to serve (and service) him, and went to his own bedroll.

Naked, lying in bed, waiting for sleep to take him, Jay reviewed the day. This ball busting wasn’t so hard, and it seemed to make him hard. And this was also his first sexual experience, and it was thrilling to think it would happen multiple times a day! The guys were all great and grateful for the experience. ‘This summer is going to rock,’ though Jay as he drifted off into a deep, peaceful slumber.