And just the simple touch of someone else was enough to drive me wild. I was blinded by desire. I barely cared that it was Mom doing this to me. I was... so grateful that somebody was doing this to me. Hardly anything could register in the shadow of the vast pure pleasure melting my senses. I closed my eyes simply to give in, focus all the more.I was whimpering.I was a writhing puddle of nonsense as my orgasm majestically built. Mom must have sense the impending glory; she tightened her grip and. She observed this and came to the room and sat down beside me on the right side and was feeling sorry. She put her hand on my shoulders and said “Sorry kiran, it was accidental”. I kept quite. I was calm with out any movement for few minutes, as it was really paining. She then realized that it would have hit real hard on very sensitive part of a man. Slowly after some time I raised and leaned my hands on the bed and turn my face to the ceiling and I was feeling angry on her. She was so. Like any other addiction, soon your normal ‘fix’ isn’t enough. You have to cut more or sometimes find something else to hurt yourself with to feel the same effects. It’s completely fucked up. I’m lucky in that I didn’t actually get that far. I did stop before it got too serious. I mean, I am aware that hurting yourself in the first place regardless of how or where you do it is a serious issue but I stopped before it got completely unbearable or too difficult to stop it. Supposedly one in. It was specially designed by woman who had originate the ceremony.. Glancing out into the ocean of faces watching, I smiled at her father seated in the front row.Sitting down in it, the three-inch wide metal bar with special attachments, forced my thighs apart. She looped a string around my erection, and pulled it back out of the way so she could get to my balls. I watched her through seeing but uncaring eyes as she expertly banded them close to my crotch and brought a clamping bare across.