It started out so well. He was new in school, and I knew he was a little different, but it didn’t matter. The first time I saw him I knew something special was happening. He was so quiet that it took for ever to get him to talk to me, but once I got him to open up I was sure there was a mutual attraction. I was so excited when he agreed to go winter camping with me, just me, out at my uncle’s hunting cabin. It was in the middle of the woods, far outside of town. My uncle hadn’t been there in years, but didn’t mind me going. You could only get there with snowmobiles.
We rode for hours on my uncle’s big machine, and all the while the temperature was dropping, and the wind was howling faster and faster. But it didn’t matter, we were really warm in our snowsuits and heavy thermal underwear and helmets, and I loved the feeling of him crushed up against me. I knew that if I stood up off the machine there’d be a big tent in the front of my snowsuit, but I didn’t mind.
We got to the cabin as the sun set, but of course it was just as cold inside as it was outside, so I set to lighting a fire. I needed it warmed up in there! How I was dying to get him out of his snowsuit! The cabin wasn’t very big, and soon it was warm. He was warming up some soup on the old wood stove when I came in with another armload of wood. He’d taken his snowmobile jacket off, but was still wearing his snowpants, although apparently nothing else.
Mine was a one piece suit, and I quickly unzipped it and clambered out of it. Now I was only wearing my thermal underwear, which was also a full-body suit, covered in sweat. “Wow it’s hot in here,” I said. He never said anything, he still had his back to me, and I quickly unzipped the thermal underwear and slid it down. What the hell, I knew what I wanted, and I figured I might as well set the right tone. I walked over to him, naked, and asked casually how supper was coming.
He turned and never batted an eye. “Soon,” he said. I took a chair next to the stove. He straddled my lap, the slippery nylon of the snowpants sent an electric shock across me and my penis jumped to attention. “I hoped you were like this,” he said. I reached for his crotch, but he slapped my hand away. “Not yet.” There was no telltale bulge or anything, but it was hard to tell under the bulky snowpants.
He never did take his snowpants off that evening as we talked and played, but I stayed naked. It was everything I hoped, it’s like he knew what I wanted. As the evening went on we explored our tastes, and then found ourselves in darker territory. It happened way faster than I expected or hoped, and that should have set warning bells off, but it didn’t. At one point he had me pee on him, still wearing his snowpants, the hot urine splashing loudly off the nylon, while he rubbed his crotch. Then he brought up CBT and I could tell by the look in his eyes that that was what he was really into. I reached for his crotch again, and again he slapped my hand away.
He asked if I’d be willing to try some simple stuff. I was reluctant, and he reminded my sternly that I’d just peed all over him, and that had to count for something. Well, he’d goaded me into that, but I relented anyway. I really wanted him. He went over to his snowmobile jacket and pulled out a little box. “We’ll try this first,” he said, “something easy. I think you’ll like it.” It was a little silver sheath big enough for my above average penis. He slid it over my member and tightened the leather straps around my backside and between my legs. “What’s this?” I asked, and he turned the knob at the head of it. A dozen little knives sliced into my penis! I screamed, and tried to claw at the machine, but he grabbed my hands and held me tight. “It barely broke the skin!” he said. “But if you tear it off you will hurt yourself badly!”
I stopped squirming and he let go of my hands. He turned the knob the other way, then undid the straps and pulled the device off. Sure enough, there were a dozen little cuts up and down the length of my penis, but they weren’t deep at all, barely more than scratches. A few trickled blood. “I’m sorry,” he said, “maybe that was too much for you. Let’s try something easier, just one blade instead of fifteen.” He pulled out a sharp needle, very thin, and very sharp on one end. He gently lay the sharp end against the skin of my cock and with just a little pressure it sank in a fraction of an inch. It hurt, and yet my erection jumped back up to full attention, and I found myself moaning. “Yeah, I think you like that,” he said and with a flick of his wrist drove it in hard until it stuck right through the bottom of my shaft. I screamed again as he grabbed my hands again, but it was half pain, and half pleasure as I shot a load of cum all over him. The feeling was wild!
He had a lot more needles. After skewering my penis a dozen times from all angles he started at the head with one, running it lengthways down my shaft in the flesh above my urethra. I shuddered with the stimulation. He wasn’t even holding my hands anymore. I was keeping them behind my back, moaning with pleasure as he drove needle after needle clear through my shaft. After an hour my penis looked like a pincushion, and there were even four or five through each of my testicles.
“Your turn,” I finally said when he ran out of needles.
“Almost,” he said. He walked over to the wood stove and grabbed a heavy cast iron pan.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
“This,” he answered, and struck me across the side of the head, and I blacked out.
I woke up outside. The sun had fallen, and it had gotten much colder. It was probably -40, or even colder with the wind. I could just see the cabin through the trees, and there was fire going nearby, so I could see, although it was too far away for me to feel the heat. I was wearing my snowsuit again, although nothing else, I could feel the nylon lining on my skin. I also had my heavy gloves and boots and snowmobile helmet, but I couldn’t move. I was tied to a tree, kneeling with my back to it and me legs to either side of the trunk. Something else didn’t quite feel right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
After a while, I don’t know how long, he came back from where he’d been by the fire. “You’re awake,” he said. “That’s good. I wouldn’t want you to miss this.”
He was all geared up in his snowsuit too, and helmet and mitts and the rest. He’d been outside a while, waiting for…what? Me? I couldn’t remember what happened.
Then it came back.
“Why?!” I cried.
He didn’t answer right away, but he unzipped his jacket, and then his snowpants. I was finally getting what I wanted, right at eye level… but there was nothing there. Nothing but bare skin. I couldn’t even see a scar in the dim light. “I always loved cock-and-ball-torture,” he said. “It turns out I loved it too much, and eventually did so much damage that they had to amputate the works.” It was really cold, and he quickly zipped up his snowsuit again. “I couldn’t let that be the end of my fun, though.”
There were ropes at my legs. There were ropes at my wrists, behind the tree. And there was one around my helmet keeping my head up. He quickly loosed that one, and the weight of the helmet drug my head down. I didn’t know what I was looking at right away, but it hit me soon enough. He’d unzipped my snowsuit from the bottom, pulled my cock and balls out, and then zipped it back up, pretty hard judging from the frozen blood at the base of my cock. My black and shrivelled cock. My balls were shrivelled up too, like they’d tried to retreat through the small hole in my snowsuit, but hadn’t been able too. He’d removed all the needles, not that it really mattered.
“Frostbite is so dangerous. It can lead to blood poisoning,” he said matter of factly. He reached down and casually slapped my penis. It wasn’t erect, but it was rock hard, frozen clear through. “No pain though,” he added. “See? Watch.” He grabbed my scrotum, which was stiff as a board (and looked pretty weird, really) and gave it a yank. I felt nothing but a light pull in my groin. Then he drug over the heavy block of wood we used for chopping fire wood, and pushed it right up against me. My penis sat on it, still keeping the shape it had when it had hung free, but now at an odd angle. I knew what was coming I guess, but I was done screaming. When the axe came down and severed the head of my dick, I didn’t feel a thing. There was no blood.
“Well, I guess that’s done,” he said, and brought the axe down again. This time, more than half my shaft sheared off. “I wonder how close I can get to you, anyway?” he said casually, and swung a third time. This took most of what was left my penis and half my scrotum. The axe was so sharp that it left half a frozen testicle behind, like some kind of medical cross-section drawing. I couldn’t believe what was happening. “That’s probably close enough,” he said. “I afraid the next part is going to hurt.”
He tied my head back up, and the helmet blocked my view downward now, but I felt him unzip my snowsuit, and then I felt a sharp blade penetrate my flesh where it wasn’t frozen at all, as he dug around and cut away the rest of my frost-bitten genitals. I screamed then, as warm blood and urine flowed down the legs of my snowsuit, but there was nothing to be done.
“Don’t worry,” he said as I started to lose consciousness. “The same underground cutter who fixed me can clean that right up, and then we can go hunting together, you and me. Assuming you survive the trip back of course…”