"You are not only a great example for my team members to practice on, but you're going to be the life of the party. You see, this is our monthly weekend cookout, and you're just what we needed for entertainment."
I had been grabbed from my campsite high in the mountains of Far West Texas. Two of us had taken off for the weekend, but my partner had to return to his office. We were attending college on track scholarships, and we both kept in good shape. I worked out daily, and ran up and down the mountain trails in the area.
At least that was my cover. I really was a money courier for an organization just south of the border, and my college work was an excellent cover. Whenever the track team traveled, I just loaded my gear with packages from South of the Border, and left it at a pre-arranged location in either Houston or Dallas. And coming back, I brought the money. It had worked fine, until now. So I'd had a little trouble with one delivery.
I had been grabbed from my tent and hustled up a rugged mountain trail to this isolated cabin high in the rough West Texas mountains. I had been pulled from my campsite sleeping bag and all, and carried up the trail a few hundred feet where I was stripped out of the bag. I liked sleeping in the open, so I never slept in a tent. I was sleeping in my running shorts, and these were quickly stripped from my lean, muscular body. I was left without a stitch of clothing covering myself. My wrists were tied behind my back with a length of leather thong and my arms tied painfully at the elbows. I was hustled up the trail bare-ass naked, including no shoes. Two men kept me moving by whipping me on the ass and legs with a short whip. Once in awhile the leader turned and gave me a sharp hit in the crotch. My cock and balls were rapidly covered with red slash marks from the beating. I kept moving regardless of the pain to my feet. There was a hint that if I didn't keep moving a tether would be put around my cock and balls and I would be dragged along by those.
We had arrived at their campsite about 45 minutes away from where I had been sleeping. My wrists and arms were untied from behind my back, and re-tied with several strands of leather thongs to a sturdy steel rod above my head. I was able to hang onto the pole, but if I let go, I would be hanging by the leather wrist bands. It was by now close to dusk. Most people don't know there are mountains in Texas, but some of the peaks are near 8,000 feet out here. At that altitude, it gets cold at night. I had been marched through the chill evening air about a mile up the mountains where these people had their campsite and a bonfire going. It gave a little light where I was, but not enough to see who was around me.
I heard voices coming my way from a direction opposite the bonfire. They came up in the dark, and quickly tied a rope around each of my ankles. They pulled my legs backward, outright until my body hung, face down, like a hammock with my cock and balls hanging down at the lowest point. They then pulled my legs apart and tied each ankle off to a large tree. I was left swinging face down in the night air with my crotch, cock and balls completely unprotected. My swollen dick hung down from my body, and for some reason was getting hard. This feeling of helplessness, and not knowing what was going to happen, was actually turning me on.
A portable grill, like middle-America has in their backyard patio to cook hamburgers, was moved over and set under my hanging cock and balls. Someone brought some sort of oil and began massaging my genitals. I immediately got even harder, and my genital area began to throb and itch and burn. There was something in the oil that sensitized my genitals. The tickling effect of the massaging was not lost on the people around me. I could hear some muttering about a tickling session later in the evening.
My lengthening, hardening cock was grabbed, and a series of small metal rings was forced over the end just below the knobby throbbing head. Somehow they had attached a metal cap over the head of my cock, held in place by fine wires attached to the cock rings. My balls were grabbed, and metal cock rings attached, pushing my large and bruised balls low in the sack.
While the special basting sauce was being applied, one of the men began to pursue further what he had already seen about how ticklish I was. He moved to my feet and with a stiff brush began to apply the hot spicy marinate all over the soles of my feet. I couldn't hold my body still. As hard as I tried, I couldn't help but begin to thrash around trying to hold any laughter. As another of the members silently moved to my ribs and began to push and tickle. I couldn't hold my laughter. I roared out begging them to please quit the tickling.
"Now", said my host, "let me explain. If you hold your body stiff or arch your back you can keep your wienie out of the fire. But, if you let your body relax, then you can see where your wienie will land.
"Now do you understand the word `roast'? We're going to build a little fire under your cock and balls, and slowly roast them. We won't burn them, because that would just last a few seconds and then you wouldn't feel anything. No, we'll slowly roast them so that the pain will build until you are screaming for relief. The metal rings, strategically placed, will absorb the heat. The skin around these rings will begin to cook. Not burn. Just roast, so the ends of your tenderest parts will slowly boil. Oh, and we see you're uncut. So, just to make sure the tenderest part of your head feels the heat, we've taped the foreskin back. The tender head of your cock is covered by a metal shield, but really this metal will absorb the heat from the fire first. The heat will build up inside this cap just like a roaster in the oven. I think you'll find the effect most, shall we say, stimulating? We don't want your skin getting dry and cracking, so we'll keep brushing on the marinate. You'll find the constant brushing on your tender cock and balls will keep your attention, too. In fact, I doubt you can hold still for it, at least not for long."
This was one time I wished my cock wasn't so long. The full twelve inches hung down toward the fire. My mushroom headed cock with the metal helmet and cock rings would be the first to let me know the fire was burning.
"Now, if you think we intend to just let you hang there keeping yourself stiff, think again. At least two of my men will be tickling you all the time. We'll see how long you can keep your back arched or stiff before your body droops enough to let your metal-covered cock touch the grill above those hot coals. Now, of course if you want to tell us what happened to the money, then this adventure might have a different ending."
The grill they had brought already had a hot fire glowing. I could almost immediately feel the waves of heat rising up toward my well-basted cock and balls. The marinate running off the tip of my dong filled the inside of the metal cover. I could already feel the spicy liquid beginning to heat.
I arched my back as much as I could, but it is not easy with your feet hanging from a couple of ropes that kept moving around as I tried to steady my legs. Already my thigh muscles were starting to burn from the steady tension. I could feel spasms building in my leg muscles almost at once. And despite all my efforts at self-control, the person running a stiff brush over the soles of my feet kept my body thrashing around , and put even more pressure on my wrists and ankles. I tried to protect one foot by covering it with the other, but they immediately spread them apart with a short bar with shackles on each end. I couldn't move my feet out of the way of the constant tickling.
As my body began to droop, I could feel the heat become more intense on the metal sheath covering the end of my cock. My cook kept reaching under me with a long-handled brush, adding more of the hot sauce. That recipe must have had the hottest of Mexican peppers, and lots of them. My entire cock, and especially the tender, swollen head, was burning. I thought I could feel the liquid inside the metal sheath covering the head of my cock bubbling. My balls felt like they were being scalded from my body. In spite of all this pain, the soft bristles of the brush kept tickling my entire cock and balls.
"Hey, did you put any of that sauce on his ass?" "Good thought", said another. And I immediately felt something being poured over my ass. As it slowly make its way down into the crack of my ass, I tried as best I could to hold my sphincter muscles taught. But it didn't work. I began to feel the heat and burning build as the hot-sauce found its way slowly into my tender ass-hole.
My attention had strayed a few seconds too long, and the metal-clad head of my cock brushed the hot wires of the grill. I yelped with the sudden pain, and jerked my torso upward to get away from the heat.
But it was too late. I could feel the pain from the burn, and the coals glowed hotter and hotter, turning the stainless steel rings around my cock and balls into little oven coils themselves.
The pain was excruciating. I knew I couldn't hold this position forever. The tickling combined with the heat was weakening me quickly. I knew I couldn't take much more of this and they'd have a well-done wienie for sure. The cooked balls would just be a dessert.
"Well, what about it? Are you ready to tell us what we need to know? Where did the money from the last job go? Who has it?"
"Look, I'll tell you if you'll just let me down from here." "No way, young man. I can just leave you hanging there for another 30 minutes, and you'll be glad to tell me what I want to know."
All the time we were trying to carry on this conversation three of the men were busy tickling my feet and ribs.
As they constantly kept applying the oils and spices, my skin became more and more tender and more and more responsive to the heat.
I was literally being roasted alive, and the pain was driving me crazy. I was finding it more and more difficult to keep my body straight, and my cock and balls drooped more and more dangerously near the fire.
Once again, the metal-clad tip of my cock touched the smoking grill, and once again I screamed and jumped with the pain. "Let's see how this would work if you couldn't hold yourself up from the grill," said one of the men.
With that someone slowly began to add weight to the small of my back I tried to arch my back as much as I could, but my muscles by now were almost completely exhausted. My massive thigh muscles were trembling from the strain. I was almost completely in spasm. It was only a matter of moments before I collapsed. He pushed harder. I could see my huge, gleaming cock move closer and closer to the smoking grill. The metal tip barely touched. I reacted immediately and my back overcame the deliberate pressure of the hand on my back. But not for long. He kept pushing. The metal-clad tip was now resting directly on one of the wires of the grill. The heat from the wire was being passed directly into the metal covering my cock. It wouldn't take but a few seconds until I would feel the pain even more severely.
The cook reached under me with the long-handled brush and slowly lifted my cock, pushing it backward so that it didn't hit the grill. The hand on my back continued to push. My cock was almost 12" long by now, and he kept pushing until my crotch and balls were just a couple of inches from the grill itself. I could feel the heat beginning to singe the hairs on my crotch.
"And what if I pulled the brush from under your cock? Would that foot-long hotdog suddenly fall full-length onto the smoking grill. You'd have grill marks in a place it would be hard to explain, wouldn't you?"
"I'll tell I'll tell", I screamed. "Just let me up, please let me up."
And with that the cook pulled the brush away, and the length of my cock dropped onto the grill. I screamed and tried to jerk away, but the massive hand kept pushing. Suddenly, the pressure eased and I jerked my body upward away from the barbecue pit that had just marked my pride and joy for life.
"So, tell us."
After a few minutes of explaining what happened and where the money was, the glowing coals were pulled out from under my body. And I was safe.
"Well, we're done here. But, I think we should leave you something to remember us by. Something other than the unique brand on your cock."
One of the men grabbed my cock and balls and wrapped a length of thong around them five or six times. His rough, callused hands brought even more pain to my throbbing, singed cock, and he didn't bother to take the metal rings off my cock.
From the thong he hung a bucket.
"Now, this bucket will slowly fill with water from a spring seeping out of the mountainside here. We have looped a little hose from the spring to this bucket. The bucket will hold 5 gallons of water. That is about 42 pounds, when full, plus about 5 pounds for the bucket.
"We're going to leave you here overnight as a little lesson, if you haven't learned enough already. I'm going to tell your friend in town where you are, and by tomorrow sometime he should be back to cut you down. That is, if I can find him.
"In the meantime, have a good night." I could hear their voices slowly fading in the distance. Sounds carry a long way in the mountains at night, but if I just began to call and someone came, how would I explain this.
I thought I could feel the bucket getting heavier already. Was it just my imagination?