Choose Your Own Adventure Part 9: The End

Choose Your Own Adventure Part 1

Don’t try this one at home kids. Breath play is serious stuff.

The bag hit the floor in front of his hands. “Put it on.”

His fingers relaxed and the needle fell to the floor. The cloth was smooth, light, and warm in his hands as he pulled it open and slipped it over his head. The world plunged into darkness, and he could feel his breath filling the hood.

He sensed her movements around him, picking up the needle and antiseptic. Then her boot thudded into his shoulder and he was falling, hitting the floor with a rush of disorientation and pain. The heavy sole worked its way around his body, stomping into his flesh, grinding and twisting his muscles and skin. His body twitched under it, instinctively trying to defend itself or flee, to do anything to escape the pain.

The clinical part of his mind noticed that she was avoiding his lower arms and face. She wanted to leave marks, to grind the sole of her boot into him and brand him as her property. To tear, to bruise, to change the flesh so he would remember this every time he showered. To make his body less his, and more hers.

He could feel her footsteps in the floor, stomping around him, working her way down one side of his body then up the other. There was a pause, and then the toe of her boot flicked into his balls. His hips jerked and then slapped back down into the carpet and the cold, numbing pain flashed across his balls.

She kicked him in the balls again, watching his hips jerk and his arms twitch. His body slammed itself up and down each time, a mockery of fucking, until she placed her boot on his cock and pinned him, twisting it back and forth. She could feel his body pushing back against her foot, trapped between her and the floor, bulging and straining against her.

His head was a black pool on the floor, his body an anonymous toy she could hurt and get herself off on. She bit her lower lip, mentally going over what was going to happen next one more time.

She moved her foot, and repositioned herself to sit down on his chest, pinning his arms with her knees. The plastic slipped over his hood, and she cinched it down, cutting off the flow of fresh air. It inflated suddenly, the air rushing out of his body as he realized what was happening and his body jerked under again. Then the bag deflated, and began to move slowly and regularly as he forced himself not to waste oxygen.

That was what she was waiting for, and tremors worked their way up her thighs. That moment of calm surrender, the acknowledgment that she controlled him clear down to his breathing.

She counted off seconds in her head, then opened the bottom of the bag long enough for him to take a breath, then wrenched it closed with her fist. She held it closed a few more seconds each time, forcing him to go a little further, take it a little longer. Finally, she licked her lips and started counting for the last time, holding it closed until she reached the last number, then pulling it off his face.

He could feel cool air drying the sweat on his face as she pulled the black cloth off his head. He lay under her, squinting his eyes at the sudden light with the warm rush of endorphins and adrenalin making his head warm and fuzzy.

“It’s over Navaux. You’re dead.”

He swallowed hard and grinned at her. “I’m getting better.”

She snorted and shook her head. “I should have known you couldn’t get through this without a fucking Monty Python quote.”

That’s it! End of the Choose Your Own Adventure Saga. It’s been a lot of fun, thanks for voting and commenting. I saw a lot of people who hadn’t commented before, and found out some things about reader preferences (apparently some people are very dedicated to cbt, which I’ll keep in mind in the future). Maybe I’ll do something like this again some time, but I have some real world stuff coming up that I need to build up a story buffer for, so it’s a pretty good time to end it. Ciao.

Preview: I really wouldn’t do that if I were you.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Choose Your Own Adventure 8: Needle and the Cock

Part 1, where it starts.

She swallowed hard, then walked around in front of him. “That was good, Navaux. I’ll even take the ball crusher off, since you did so well. But first I want to negotiate something with you. I know you’re afraid of them, but I want you to take a needle in your cock.”

His eyes slammed shut, and he shook his head back and forth. His body trembled, and his shoulders slumped. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” She knelt down beside him and let her hand rest on his back. “The skin and tissue is thin, it won’t even hurt that much.”

His head continued to rock from side to side.

She wrapped her arms around him. “You can do this. Just like any other project. Break it down into small, manageable steps, and do them one at a time.”

He flinched at the thought of the steel sliding through his cock. Cringed at the thought of the needle.

She reached under him, and began to spin the bolts on the ball crusher, loosening it until it slid off of his body. The plastic was hot and slick with his sweat, and he moaned as the weight disappeared. His head still shook from side to side. She tossed the crusher to one side.

“Sit.” Her hands guided him to a sitting position on the floor, and she twisted the cap off a bottle of water and handed it to him. He took a slow swallow, and licked his lips.


She nodded. “You can do this, and it will make me very happy if you do. Take a minute, and get into a better head space.”

He took another sip of water, and shivered at the thought. “I don’t think I can.”

She grinned behind him. “I think you can. Drink your water and take a minute.”

She stomped off, and gathered some things. Coming back, she frowned at the sheets of paper. Her original plan of having him choose his paths and turns… it had kind of gone to hell. She shrugged and grinned. It could always happen some other time.

She threw a pillow down on the floor, and sat down facing him. In front of him she carefully arranged the gloves, alcohol swabs, and sterile packages of needles.

He exhaled and his mouth turned into a frown at the site of the needles. “Are you really going to shove a needle through my cock?”

“No.” She leaned back against the pillow and pulled her dress up, then slid her panties to one side. His eyes locked on her cunt. “You are.”

He twitched again, and closed his eyes. He took a long drink of water before answering, stalling for time. “I can’t.”

She rubbed her slit slowly, and purred when he opened his eyes again. “Oh, I really think you can. Put a glove on.”

His hands trembled as he slowly pulled one of the latex gloves out of the box. Her eyes narrowed and her breathing got a little faster as he worked the latex up his hands, pulling it on further, and working the latex to remove the air bubbles.

“Good boy.” She held her hand out to him, and he obediently sucked on her glistening finger. “Now, another glove.” She pulled her finger out of his mouth with a pop and went back to jerking herself off.

He kept his eyes on her cunt, trying not to think about the needles, and jerked the glove out. The box bounced up then fell back to the floor with a whump. The latex slowly slid over his hand, expanding as his fist filled it.

She nodded. “Good boy. You get another treat.” She held her fingers out again, and he leaned forward, sucking on them.

“Now open an alcohol swab, and rub it on your cock. Don’t think about anything else, just rub the swab on your cock.”

He pulled the aluminum packaging apart, and fished the white square of cloth out. He shifted his hips, and carefully rubbed the cool alcohol on his cock until the flesh glistened. His nose wrinkled, the smell always reminded him of the dentist’s office. When he was done he carefully put the used cloth on the box of gloves, and waited.

“Good.” Her fingers had started moving faster while he sterilized his cock, and she spread her legs a little wider. “Now, just pick up the package, and open the needle.”

His face contorted, and he moved his hand slowly over to the needle. He awkwardly pulled the plastic apart, looking back and forth from her fingers sliding over her cunt to the needle.

“Hmmmm.” She murmured her approval, then held her hand out. “Be careful with that.” He sucked her fingers, and she bit her lip. “Give me a second, I want to come just as you do it.” She took her fingers back, and rubbed her clit.

“Hold your cock with one hand, and put the needle against it with the other.”

He shifted his hips, leaning back and breathing fast and hard through clenched teeth. The needle danced a finger’s space from his cock.

She shook her head. “Put it against your cock, just the tip of it. Don’t push it in, just barely touch it.”

He shifted his hips again, then slowly brought the needle over until it barely touched his skin.

“Ummm-humm.” She groaned her approval, and nodded. Her fingers kept her on the edge of an orgasm, and she watched carefully. “Now, slowly…”

He tried to move his hands, but they refused to respond. He looked away, back at her cunt, and told them to move, but nothing happened. He took a deep breath, and tried again. Nothing. “I can’t.”

“You can, and you will.” Her fingers moved impatiently, willing him to move his hands, to shove the needle through his cock.

He tried again, then moved the needle away a little. “I can’t.”

She breathed out explosively, forcing herself not to scream. “It’s the needle or the bag and the guillotine, you’re going to need to make your choice before I count to ten. One, two, three, four, five…”

What does Navaux choose?

1. Shove the needle through his cock!
2. Fuck it, black bag and guillotine time!

Happy voting!

Preview: Make them convincing. Very convincing.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Choose Your Own Adventure 7: Spanking Time

Start here, with part 1, to start at the start: Part 1

“That’s it! Smart boy.” She continued to tighten the clamps, then stopped, letting it hang on his body. His balls flattened between the plastic, his thighs trembling, sweat starting to run down his body. “But now we need to see how much you really want to suffer for the republic.”

“Get down on all fours.”

He moved hid body carefully, painfully aware of the ball crusher still hanging off his pelvis, and got down on all fours. His legs were spread wide to keep from bumping the contraption dangling off of him, and he tried to prepare himself for whatever was going to happen next.

She picked up the wooden spoon, and slapped it against her palm. Her thighs clenched when she saw him flinch, and she slapped it down into her palm again. She let him think about it for a few more seconds, then picked up a chair and set it directly behind him. “Just twenty strokes of the spoon, but you’ll need to count them.”

He sighed and relaxed, then nodded. “Yes, Citizen Ma’am, thank you Citizen Ma’am.” He couldn’t see her smirk.

The first swat thudded into his ass cheek, and he dutifully counted, “One.” Each subsequent stroke hurt a little more, and his voice caught a little more as he counted. By the time he reached fifteen, the methodical beating had turned into a constant stream of pain where the actual hits were just peaks.

Then, there was a flurry of swats, one after the other, the spoon bouncing off his flesh and immediately returning with hot impact. “Six-ouch-fuck-damn-shit!”

She laughed behind him. “Oooh, you lost count. That means we have to start over.”

His body slumped, but he took a deep breath and nodded his agreement.

She smiled, and felt her body tingling at his pain. “It’s only twenty with the spoon, try to keep up with the count this time Navaux, or we’ll be here all night.”

The beating started again.

He started counting again.

His legs started to tremble by the sixteenth stroke. He waited, feeling each thud and counting along. By the time he got to nineteen he was already prepared to sob in relief. Then, the sudden woosh of air, he cried out “Twenty,” and realized their had been no impact. “Fuck…” He slumped down on his elbows, letting his face fall to the floor.

“You missed the count Navaux. A loyal citizen has to be much more careful. We’ll start over with one. Again.”

He didn’t even nod this time, just shifted his knees slightly, and braced himself. The spoon thudded into his ass. As the pain consumed him he became eager for the strokes he counted, both to keep the rush of endorphins going and to bring the beating to end.

The slow, methodical beating continued. Through the single digits, up through the teens, and finally a twentieth impact on his ass. “Twenty!”

She let him sob in relief, then moved around to stand in front of him. “That was nineteen, actually. We’ll have to start over.”

“Huh?” He felt the dull, throbbing pain in his ass, the weight of the ball crusher hanging off his body, and the hundred other aches and pains.

“The first hit, it was with my hand. So that one didn’t count. But I had a lot of fun listening to you count every single hit wrong.”

“Please…” It was a tortured moan. “I don’t know if I can do another twenty.”

She smiled primly. “Well, let’s find out.”

He pushed himself against the floor, trying to create sensations other than the burning in his ass and the crushing pain on his testicles. The ball crusher leaped and jerked every time he moved, and he tried to force his hips to stay still as she began to beat his ass again.

She started again, measuring the strokes, listening to his voice as he counted. Pushing him just a little further than he thought he could go, helping him take a little more pain than he thought was possible. She beat him with hard, measured strokes, watching him sink deeper and deeper into the haze of pain.

His pain took her along with him, and she felt her own thoughts getting fuzzy. The world collapsed until it was just the two of them, the thudding smack of wood against flesh, and numbers. When he reached twenty, she paused for a second, then hit him again. Partially to see what would happen, partially to enjoy it a little longer.

“Twenty-one.” No change in his voice or posture.

She swallowed hard, then walked around in front of him. “That was good, Navaux. I’ll even take the ball crusher off, since you did so well. But first I want to negotiate something with you. I know you’re afraid of them, but I want you to take a needle in your…”

Where does she want to stick the needle? Vote away, for pointy things, and democracy!

1. Nipple
2. Cock
3. Chest

Preview: *swish* *swish* *thud*

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Choose Your Own Adventure 6: Viva la CBT!

As usual, probably make more sense if you start with part 1. The Part 1.

He took a deep breath, and blinked his eyes, trying to clear his head. He wasn’t thinking about trying to win the game anymore, or worrying about the storyline, he just tried to imagine what would please her.

“Citizen ma’am, please torture my cock and balls…”

She chuckled, and licked her lips. “Well, since you asked so politely.” She stood up and kicked his feet apart with short, lazy blows from her boots. “Stay.” She stomped over to the closet, and returned with a candle and a lighter.

Her face scrunched up for a second, and her eyes narrowed. She jerked her head at his discarded shirt. “Put that under your cock. I don’t want candle wax getting on the carpet.”

He lifted his hips slightly and worked the shirt under them until she nodded, then let his aching body sink back down.

“Happy birthday to you.” She sang softly as she lit the candle, and watched the wax build up. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, waiting for the hot wax to drip down his body. “Happy birthday to you.”

The first drop of wax hit his stomach, higher than he expected, and he forced himself to control his breathing. It was burning, stinging sensation that left his skin warm and irritated.

She continued singing, moving the candle a little closer towards her, watching the wax carefully. “I’m going to torture your cock.” The drop fell, hitting one side of his cock. His hips rolled and she grinned down at him. “Because that’s what I do.”

Molten drops pelted his body, turning his cock and balls into a throbbing, burning mass. She moved the candle up and down as she rocked back and forth, the wax hitting his skin getting cooler as she moved it higher, hotter as she lowered it towards his body. She tried to keep his body jerking at a constant rate, moving the candle up and down, covering his cock and balls in liquid torment.

When splotches of dried wax saturated his cock and balls, she leaned over to grab his hair and pull him into a sitting position. “Blow out the candle.”

He exhaled sharply, and the candle flame disappeared.

She held him up by his hair, and looked carefully at his face. His eyes were still closed, but his jaw wasn’t clenched, and she could tell by his breathing that his mind was far, far away.

“All right, up and on your feet.” She stood up and used his hair as a handle to pull him along with her, forcing him upright. She kicked his legs apart again, and set the candle and lighter aside. She picked up the crop, and slapped the spots of wax on his cock.

“Ooooph.” He groaned and his hips started to rock again as she beat at the wax, breaking pieces off, revealing the bright red skin underneath. She flicked the crop over and over, moving from side to side, changing her position and the angle of her wrist to hit different spots.

His eyelids fluttered and his head arched back at the flood of endorphins as she tortured his cock and balls, his whole body jerking in time with her swats.

She finally took a deep breath, and looked at him critically. “It will have to do, for now.” Fragments of wax still clung to his skin, but most of the wax lay in broken shards on his shirt below them. “Don’t worry though, we’re not done yet.”

She stepped away long enough to get the ball crusher, two pieces of plastic with long bolts and wing nuts to pull the plates together. She grabbed his balls, feeling an electric jolt travel through her body at how hot they were, and carefully pulled them between the two plates. “You’re going to suffer now, Navaux.”

She spun the wingnuts around until they started to put pressure on the plates, and then paused. He was holding his breath, and she waited until he started to breathe again before slowly applying pressure. She didn’t want him passing out again.

“Why is this happening Navaux?” She moved from side to side, gradually increasing the pressure.

He shuddered and moaned. “Because I must suffer for the republic ma’am.”

“Nope.” She pushed each nut around the bolt a few more times, then asked him again. “Why is this happening Navaux?”

He whimpered as the pressure increased, the relentless crushing sensation rising into his stomach. “Ugh… because I asked for it ma’am.”

She rocked her head from side to side, and continued to tighten the vise. “Closer, but not quite. Try again.”

He felt like he was going to throw up, and made himself look away from his flattened testicles. “Because I begged for you to torture my cock and balls ma’am.”

“That’s it! Smart boy.” She continued to tighten the clamps, then stopped, letting it hang on his body. His balls flattened between the plastic, his thighs trembling, sweat starting to run down his body. “But now we need to see how much you really want to suffer for the republic.”

What comes next? Vote before next Wednesday, and look for the next chapter next Friday.

1. Anal unpleasantness!
2. Needle play!
3. Spanking!

Or enter a write in vote in the comments!

Preview: “I don’t want you to give me anything, I just want to take.”

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.