Wednesday, May 13, 2015

(M/M) Three Wishes by Allen Baker

Allen is a super author, and is full of original ideas. Some my own personal fantasies came from this story where ANYTHING could happen, based on what you wish for.
 
Read the story and then ask yourself what YOU would wish for,
 
cheers,
 
n.
 
 
Three Wishes by Allen Baker
 
In junior high school we had read a story about a cursed monkey's paw from India. It granted the holder three wishes. But using the wishes had unforeseen, dire consequences. I should have remembered that story.
Now, I'm sure you know how this story goes. At least the beginning part. I was in the old quarters section of the city, milling about in the antique junk shops that lined the twisting alley ways. An old lamp that had unusual lines, unique design. Somehow, I just had to own it. Tucked away in among the luggage and forgot it until finally back home and unpacking. Set aside to gather dust until a spare moment to clean it up. It wasn't until a few weeks before Christmas that I came across it again.
Polish and shine and rub, and presto … the proverbial genii appeared. I could have almost said it with him word for word. "Master, you have three wishes. I am yours to command. Speak, and it shall be so."
I didn't speak. I just stared. All the stories, books, movies had not prepared me for a real genii. I had never seen so ruggedly handsome, so muscularly toned, so well-endowed a male. I knew he was well-endowed because, unlike the book illustrations, this genii had not one shred of clothing. I was so mesmerized by the works that swung between his legs, that his words took long to register. By comparison, my below-average five-incher was meager indeed.
He must have know what was going on in my head, because he just patiently waited my inspection to be over. And inspect I did. A minimum of fourteen inches of thick, limp cock dangled beneath a crop of crinkled black pubic growth. It gently swayed with his breathing. At it's end, a gathering of extended skin puckered invitingly. Once again, I regretted my parents compliance to the accepted practice of infant circumcision. This monstrous member was pushed away from his body by a pair of orbs gathered in the lower extremity of a silky pouch that hung a good eight inches from its base. I'd never seen the equal to this guy's basket even in adult flicks. Suddenly, his words formed meaning in my head, and I snapped my mouth closed in time to catch the gathering drool.
"Yeah, right. Three wishes."
"Of course, Master. It's the going rate." His grin told me he was poking fun beneath the sincerity of his words.
I grinned back as I contemplated the situation. I at least had enough sense not so spout off the first things that came to mind. Even half convinced that I was hallucinating, I new better than to make flippant requests that would waste this rare opportunity. I thought carefully before inquiring. "If I were to request a number of improvements in my body, would they be considered separate wishes, or one?"
He arched his left eyebrow and replied, "Well, a negotiator, I see. Hmm, I will consider it one wish with up to three parts. More than three parts and it will constitute an additional wish."
I thought carefully before making my first wish. "Then Genii, please enhance my body in these three ways without affecting any other aspects: One, increase my prick length to eight inches soft and ten hard, keeping the girth in the same proportion as now. Two, lengthen my sack so that it dangles seven inches below my pubic bone." I'd always been happy with the walnut size of my nuts, but sorry that they were housed in such an uptight, confining pouch. For the third choice, I wavered. I'd always wanted a well-defined, muscular chest – but finally rejected that consideration, thinking that it was something I could develop naturally if I just disciplined myself to do the required exercises. Instead, I decided on my one other fixation. "And three, restore my foreskin so that it looks like yours."
I don't know what I expected. A flash of lightening? The waving of a wand spouting sparks and fireworks? But all that occurred was a gentle nod of his head and one word, "Done."
Done? I had felt nothing, experienced nothing. Reflexively my hand wandered to the crotch of my slacks. I must have had a quizzical look on my face, because he smiled and nodded. "Yes, done. Take a look."
Slowly, I unzipped and slipped my jeans and shorts down over my hips, at the same time, pulling my t-shirt up to my chest. "Wow." It was a new me. He had indeed blessed me with the granting of my wish. Just looking at my newly enlarged genitals caused a stirring in my groin. My new cock began to enlarge and lengthen. The overhanging skin, began to stretch and spread at the opening. Soon, the tip began to peek out of its new hood. I nearly creamed with the startling look and accompanying sensations. "Wow."
"Quite right." His voice came as a husky whisper as he slipped to his knees if front of me. His tongue flicked into the opening of my foreskin and thrilled me with the intensity of my new sensitiveness. I swooned as his talented mouth pulled me in and down. The added amount of surface multiplied the pleasure tenfold and more. And the length! It kept going down and down and down his throat. I moaning my pleasure and trembled as my low swinging balls slapped gently against his chin. They felt so incredibly different swaying through the air, flopping about. The enhanced sensation telegraphed up their cords and pulled at triggers deep inside me. My longer dick held increased nerve endings that added their own drive of my libido to its ultimate ending. My nuts pulled up and up and pumped juice through their tubes. My member throbbed deep within his throat, and suddenly I was in the throws of the most dynamic climax of my life. My knees wobbled and buckled. My dick pulled, still spewing white jizm through the air, from his mouth as I collapsed onto the floor.
I lay sprawled on the carpet with my jeans puddled about my legs. Genii rose to his feet, towering over me. My eyes followed up and up his nearest thigh to the jointure of his legs. There they halted again to gaze in wondering desire over his astounding manhood.
"One down, two to go."
I had forgotten, in my ecstasy, that there were even wishes involved in our relationship. My recovering mind fought to make sense of his words and to focus on continuing my requests. Suddenly I knew my next wish, but caught myself from blurting it out. I forced myself to slowly consider my words: this was not a time to blunder with poorly formed sentences that could have disastrous results. "Wish number two," I began, "is to have a long life, but with these restrictions. I want to live into my nineties, but want to have perfect health until I peacefully die in my sleep. I am not asking for eternal youth. I want to appear to age naturally. But want to retain my health and sexual vitality until the day I die."
Again, he nodded. "Granted."
I studied his face to see if truth were displayed there. I thought so, but this was one outcome that would go unproven for years to come.
"And three?" Again, the arched eyebrow implied a knowing of my mind before it was spoken.
"For a couple of years now I've been playing at slavery – a night here, a weekend there. For the last few months I've been unsuccessfully trying to find a 24/7 master. So," and here I took a deep breath, "I want the ideal Master. One who will be cruel and merciless. One who take me to the ultimate extremes without permanent damage. One who will constantly vary and control and experiment and create. One who will both own and care for me. A Master worthy of my worship, my obedience, my servitude."
Genii just looked at me where I lay. Studied me with a judgmental eye that was disconcerting. I almost wondered if he were contemplating denying my request. But finally he spoke. "On Friday night, two weeks from tomorrow you will be granted your wish. There are some things you must do in preparation. First, quit your job."
I was shocked to the point of not being able to object.
"Then you will cancel your apartment lease, close your bank accounts, and sell or give away all your belongings including your car. With the money from that, pay off all your debts. The only things you are to keep are your back pack, your sex toys, a pair of sneakers, the blue spandex shorts in your bottom dresser drawer, the black tank top in the laundry, … and the lamp. On that Friday, cut up your credit cards, driver's license, and all other forms of identification. Then proceed to The Eagle bar. On the corner before the bar will be a Salvation Army bell ringer with a bucket. Put all your remaining money into the bucket and go into the bar. At the bar with be a leather-clad man with a red devil's face painted on the back of his jacket. Kneel at his feet with bowed head. Take the lamp from your pack and hold it up for him. When he takes the lamp, you will be his slave forever."
During the last of these instructions, I found myself automatically rising to my knees. I opened my mouth, and he slipped his expanding dick head onto my waiting tongue. Slowly he fed his awesome cock down my throat. His last statements were punctuated by his pumping motion. The words registered in my brain for future reference, but my immediate attention was on obtaining enough air without losing contact with his marvelous cock.
His hands trapped my head to his groin as he ground himself into me. He concentrated on his pleasure, not my distress. I groaned around his pipe and suffered with my greed to keep him a part of me. All too soon, he growled and hammered himself to a spectacular climax. With his last shuddering spasm, he grew dim and wispy. Eventually his form dissolved into a fragment of vapor that receded down the spout of the lamp. I stared at the vessel that contained the promise of my future.
 
* * *
 
Two weeks later, I found myself on the sidewalk outside The Eagle shivering in the snow. I couldn't believe that I was actually obeying his orders. But then again, what true submissive would not? I was grateful that he'd chosen the long tank top. It hung below my crotch and did its best to hide my unrelenting hardon. I shook with the cold and anxiety. I had just given away my last earthly cent. When I entered the bar, I wouldn't even have money to buy a badly-needed drink. Had I made a huge mistake? Would I regret what I'd asked for? Finally, I took a deep breath and entered.
It took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust. Eventually, I could make out the bar through the haze of smoke and low lighting. And, yes, there was the black leather with the promised red design. I tried to look into the mirror across the bar to catch a glimpse of the face, but there were tiers of bottles intruding. I could tell nothing beyond the impression of a self-assured power. I wove my way through the clustered bodies milling about the busy room and knelt behind this imposing figure. Ignoring the inquisitive looks from nearby men, I raised the lamp. "Master, please accept this token of my servitude."
I watched his black boots turn to me. I held my breath and felt my heart thump through my veins. Time receded and noise subsided as I waited for him to respond. The moments stretched until finally I felt the lamp lift from my hands. I watched as a bronzed hand came into my view and grasped me under the chin.
His voice sent shivers down to my groin. "You will serve me well." He spoke as he pulled my face upward. First I saw the brutal grin. Then my heart froze as I looked into the glaring green eyes of Master Genii.
* * *
It was a frightful shock. What had I gotten myself into? A magical genii for a lifetime master? I nearly fainted. And might have if he hadn't pressed my face into his black leather pouch. The musk and leather perfume swept through my nostrils and slammed directly into my groin, muddling my brain in its path. Suddenly, I had lost all concern and was bound by my sexual slavery to this being. There was no further thought of being anywhere else. My tongue slipped between my lips and bathed his leather-clad groin.
"That's it, boy. This is what you need to do. This is your destiny, your fate: to serve your Master's every whim and desire."
I groaned agreement as his hand bunched the back of my tank top and ripped it from my body. I continued to keep my mouth busy as I felt a band of leather circle my neck. It was buckled and locked in place. He showed me the key, which he proceeded to drop to the floor and crush under his booted heel. The collar was permanently attached. He pulled me up and pushed me over the bar. My chest and face were crushed into damp, beer soaked napkins and pretzel crumbs as he rifled through my back pack. He sat my largest butt plug on the bar beside my face. I felt his hand grasp the waist of my spandex and yank the back of them down below my butt cheeks. Without any preparation, he jammed the plug home. I started to yelp, but muffled my cries in the napkins, not wanting to embarrass my new Master by showing myself as some wimp.
He ordered me to pull up my shorts and stand up straight. From his back pocket, he pulled out a chain leash which he attached to my collar. "Put on your backpack, boy. We're going home." When we got to the door, he pointed from my shoes to the trash can. I removed and disposed of my last pair of shoes. "All fours, boy, where you belong."
I dropped to my hands and knees, and he led me out into the snow. Out to my new life.
* * *
At the first sight of his dungeon, the bottom of my stomach fell out. It was medieval in appearance. There were stretching racks. There were torches in the walls that lit themselves as we entered. There were metal cages that gleamed as flickering flames danced against the darkened stone walls. It bespoke of much more intensity than I had bargained for. But I no longer had a say in things. I had no safe word. Master Genii, led me to a medical table with a hole where the lower torso would go. "Lie face down."
I climbed into position with my crotch sticking into the opening. It wasn't long before I found myself immobile. Ropes crisscrossed over my body and limbs, trapping me in place with my gonads dangling in open vulnerability. I sighed in acceptance. He stood at the head of the table with his leather-clad manhood filling my vision. The smell of his maleness invaded my nostrils and hardened my meat. Slowly, he popped the snaps of his pouch open. The leather dropped away and his hard cock slapped me in the face. My mouth automatically opened and was filled. He only pushed as far as the head to the center of my tongue and stopped. He didn't move, but the slit of his opening quivered, then spread as his piss began to dribble then stream into my mouth. I clamped my lips about the back of the dick head and sucked and swallowed, grateful for the quenching liquid. Nectar from my ethereal master.
When finished, he pulled free and moved to the side of the table. He reached under and attached a leather parachute to my nuts. The tightness was pleasurable until he dropped the ten-pound weight that was attached. I grunted as the mass pulled and stretched at my crotch. I gritted my teeth to adjust to the sensation of being yanked to my limit. Then he detached the flogger from his belt, and I clenched my butt cheeks in anticipation of the impending blows.
He just lay the leather gently against my shoulder blades, letting the ends dangle and caress. He ran the tips of the strands down my back and onto my ass. I shivered at the gentleness. But that didn't last. Once, then twice, then again, the blows of that instrument fell across my butt. He set up a rhythm that was steady but increasing in intensity. Soon my cries echoed throughout the chamber. And he continued. All the while, my bucking with each blow, jangled the parachute and made the weights bounce and swing and pull. I didn't know where the pain was greater. It all slammed into my brain, swelling my ecstacy with each swing of his weapon.
Finally he stopped. Without being able to see, I knew that my seat was welted and bruised. But as promised, no permanent damage. Inwardly I smiled.
He detached the weights and parachute, then untied me from the table. He led me to a Saint Andrews cross and spread my arms and legs as far as they would go. I marveled at how far my hard cock stuck straight out in front of me, still not used to its newness. The flogger came down hard against it. Straying strands slapped into my nutsack. My eyes fluttered, and I moaned. He continued for a few minutes until red lines crisscrossed my dick. Then he dropped the flogger and stalked off, returning from the dark shadows with a metal tool cabinet on wheels. He pulled open a drawer, and my eyes widened in alarm.
He pulled out a scalpel and quickly slit open a two inch gash in the right side of my sack. My head spun as I screamed in reaction to the pain. He didn't even hesitate as he stuck a finger into the opening and fished about until he encountered the right cord. With a tug, he hauled it through the opening, then drug my right nut out into the open. With horrified fascination I stared at the greyish oval lump that dangled in the air. He flicked it with his finger, and I yelped. My brain couldn't fathom this alien object as a part of my body until the image and pain combined to make it a reality. My knees began to shake. I watched as the scalpel moved to the left. Soon, two grey orbs hung from my vacant sack.
He started tapping them with his fingers, watching my face. I gritted my teeth and clenched my jaw to endure the torment. The tapping moved to slapping, then hitting and punching. I nearly passed out at times. Finally he grabbed them in his two fists and began to squeeze. I did pass out.
When I came to, I was still upright, but had been moved to between two posts. Master stood behind me with his massive dick planted up my ass. When I looked down, I could see he had attached some sort of glass container to my balls that had an enclosed top. It reminded me of some chemistry lab equipment which it turned out to be. There was another container hanging near my head with a tube leading down to the first. Master slowly began to move inside me. His size made me quiver with delightful pain. My limp cock began to grow again.
Master slowly reached around and opened the nob on the hanging bottle. A slow drip of fluid began to course down the tube and drip into the container with my exposed balls. "You are going to suffer for my pleasure, boy. When you experience pain, your asshole spasms and caresses my cock. Your pain is my pleasure. Do you feel it yet? Do you know what's happening?"
As the liquid began to transfer to the lower container, I strained my head to read the upside down lettering near my face. Sulfuric acid!! "NO!" I shouted and struggled against my chains. My movement fucked myself further onto his rod. "No, stop. No, please, please!"
My panic flamed his desire. His left arm encircled my waist. His right hand went to my left nipple and began a painful, pulling pinch. His breathing quickened in my left ear as he bit into my shoulder. His cock drove more and more quickly into my depths. The lowermost point of my naked testicles began to burn. The acid had become deep enough to attack them. With even more panic, I struggled to free myself.
"Yes, boy, struggle for me. Yeah, protest and beg. Oh, smell that? That's the chemical burning of flesh. Delicious, isn't it? Makes my mouth water. But it's more than burning them, boy. It's dissolving them. By the time I get my rocks off, yours will be off." He chuckled at his own dark humor. "There will be nothing left but some residue at the bottom."
I screamed in frustration and terror. He laughed and chewed on my ear. The agony in my groin was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. It was like a combination of having a knee rammed into my nuts with a swarm of bees stinging them. I thrashed my head back and forth. The tears flew from my cheeks. And I screamed. And I came. Even as I yelled and begged for him to stop, I was sexually excited. The pain erected my member and made it tremble. Suddenly it lurched and spasmed, spewing a mixture of white cum and red blood. I knew it was my final climax. I was terrified and titillated all at the same time. My eyes rolled back and my cock shot its ultimate orgasm. My ass clutched his moving penis, and he growled. Quickly he flooded my ass with his seed. At the same moment, the canister swung free from my crotch and left my bluntly ending tubes slip back into the slits of my formless sack. I sighed, sobbed, and plunged into darkness.
* * *
I awoke to daylight streaming in from the window high up in the wall of the cell. I was chained to the bunk and badly needed to take a leak. Memory returned slowly. When it did, tears again coursed down my cheeks for my lost manhood. But then I realized I felt no pain. Was it really such a painless operation to loose one's family jewels? Maybe I had been given some painkiller, some shot to curb my feelings down there. Certainly there was no tenderness, nothing that would have hinted at injury. Looking down the sheet, I could see my piss hardon tenting the fabric at my groin. Well, the erectile tissues still remembered how to work – for the time being, at least. I guessed that would cease once my body realized there was no longer a testosterone supply. A short sob escaped my lips as I lay in my self-pitty.
A distant rattling of chains alerted me to Master's approach. He unlocked the cage and entered with a tray holding two bowls – one with water, one with dog food. He proceeded to unlock my chains. "Don't try to stand too quickly. You've been immobilized all night, and it will take a while for your muscles to gain control again. You'll get used to that, though."
"I thought I had specified no permanent damage. Where did I screw up on that wish?"
"You didn't. There is no permanent damage." As he spoke, he whipped the sheet off me. I stared at my crotch in dumb wonder. "See, you are just fine."
"Then … was it all an illusion? A spell or dream?"
"No, no … no illusion. It all happened just as you remember. But with the coming of the dawn, you were restored to your former self. That's the part of your wish that I took liberties with. No matter what happens during our nightly play, you will return to normal with the breaking of the day."
I just stared at him. Slowly, I began to grasp the meaning of those words. He could be as destructive to my body as he wanted. He could cause all manner of pain. All manner of torment. I would endure his malicious experiments every night and would recover in the morning, restored and ready once again to be the object of his sadistic pleasure. He smiled as he watched the implications register on my face.
That day I trembled in fear of the coming night. Fear and excited anticipation. What would Master Genii have in store for me this time? I spent the day in all manner of bondage. Restrained from touching myself. From pleasuring myself with the excitement of my new role. Evening eventually came. And with it a fresh horror. Again Genii tied my hands behind my back. Then he led me to a work bench that was crotch high. With duck tape, he pulled my cock up and held it against my body, leaving my balls sprawled onto the table. He pulled them as far away from my groin as possible, stretching my sack to its limit. He placed a slat across the stretched neck of my sack and screwed the ends of it down to the workbench, trapping my nuts far away and at risk.
Then he took a thick wood screw about four inches long and positioned it over my right ball. The power driver clicked into the head of the screw. I held my breath as he slowly put pressure on the driver's trigger. The screw turned and bit into the surface of my taught pouch. I whimpered and bit my lip in attempted control. The screw continued on into the meat of my ball. Blood leaked up around it and flowed across the skin surface. My mouth flew open, but the scream was silent – the pain being too great to register. The head of the screw drew level with the ball, but Master didn't stop. The drill continued its shrill grind. The screw head pushed downward and indented the ball, flattened it actually – spreading it wider and thinner.
My chest heaved with the effort of control. He took another screw and did the same to my left. The pain was unreal.
Next he pulled out one of those electric hot dog grills that resemble a waffle iron. He opened it and removed the duck tape from my abdomen. My thick meat flopped onto the bottom plate. He lowered the top, applying pressure until he was able to fasten the latch to keep it closed. He picked up the plug end and stuck it into the wall socket. My eyes widened as he spoke, "A regular hot dog takes about three minutes to cook. But you are thicker and it will probably take longer to get good and tender."
With that, he moved behind me and plugged his own cord into my rear socket. He began to fuck me as he reached around and push the button to begin cooking my meat. He pulled my face back over my shoulder and started to kiss me. I felt the machine begin to warm. I groaned around his invading tongue. Soon I was panting to control the pain and fear. Slower than I wished, I felt the warmth turn to heat and then to burn. It was incongruous to endure the torment at the same time as my mouth began to water at the aroma of roasting meat. Finally, my cock stopped hurting, having died to the flame. But my nuts remained in agony.
Master removed the grill, and we both inhaled the great smell of cooked meat. He took a foot-long hotdog bun and wrapped it around my cock. He pulled a serrated knife out of a drawer and slowly sliced my cock free from my body. Standing where I could watch, he took a bite from the end and chewed thoughtfully. "Hmm. Yeah, that's nice. Here, have a bite." He held the other end of the bun to my lips. Tears of emotion formed and rolled down my cheeks as I tasted my first bite of male man meat. He was right, it was wonderful. We continued to chew from our respective ends until our mouths met and began to french kiss morsels of our meal back and forth.
When it was at last gone, Master and I looked down at my nuts. I watched as he attached wires to ends of the screws. "Electricity cooks from the inside out. Shouldn't be long."
This was even more painful than my dick had been. While we waited, Master put a handful of spaghetti into a pot of boiling water and a container of sauce in to heat. By the time he was draining the pasta, I no longer had feeling in my nuts. He piled two plates with the pasta and ladled on some sauce. Then he took the knife and sliced my sack off at the edge of the bench and lowered me into the chair. He unscrewed the two mounds from the table and sliced them thin. Each plate received a garnish of the slivered meat. He handed me one of the plates. "Eat up, this should be a delicious meal, hearty enough to strengthen you for the rest of the night's activities.
That was over two years ago. In the mean time, my cock and balls have been boiled, fried, and set on fire while still attached. They've been fed into meat grinders, sawn off with radial saws, drilled and screwed to beams. They've been cut off in small pieces and fed to dogs, to Master's friends, to me. They've been detached and forced up my ass which was then sewn closed. My slit-open scrotum has been filled with ants, maggots, and my own shit before being stitched shut. My shit hole has been filled with cement, with live snakes, and even with my own amputated fist and forearm. And once, just a couple of minutes before dawn, Master disemboweled me, using my hot, steaming intestines to wrap around his cock and jack off.
And each and every morning, I am as I was. But the worst is that, while I remember all the previous pain, that night's ordeal feels like it's the first – I never will become jaded to the pain. Each night it is like it happening for the virgin time.
Three wishes. What have I done to myself? I asked that my body not be permanently damaged. But what about my mind? Something happens to it while I watch and feel myself being mutilated. Over the next sixty-some years, will it hold, or will it crack under the constant torment? And every day I reflect if I've unleashed upon myself a lifetime of hell … or heaven. But most of the time I think for me there is a difference.
 
 

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