Partner-Swapped E-stim: Part One

The room was already warm with candlelight when he was led inside. A faint hum of equipment came from the blinking lights — the unmistakable presence of power boxes, electrodes neatly laid beside them.

The padded bondage chair in the centre of the room seemed to drink in the flicker of light, straps hanging slack for now.

Two women followed behind him, moving with deliberate ease, like predators that knew they had already won. They shared a smile, not of friendship but of conspiracy, as though he were a secret they’d been dying to unwrap together.

Domina

“Clothes off,” one ordered softly, not raising her voice, but leaving no doubt. Her tone carried the promise that this night was hers — theirs.

His hands fumbled, but the anticipation made him obedient. Garments fell one by one until he stood naked, pulse quickening. The other woman circled him, running a fingernail from his shoulder down to the small of his back, pausing deliberately over his ass before trailing away.

“Good boy,” she purred. “Now sit.”

The chair accepted him like a trap. Leather straps came alive under their hands — wrists buckled down, ankles parted and secured, torso bound against the backrest, and a strap across his forehead fixing his head tight. The last straps closed across his thighs, leaving him spread and exposed, cock twitching already at the sheer vulnerability of being displayed like this.

They worked in rhythm at first, one fitting an adhesive pad high against his inner thigh, another attaching an electrode ring at the base of his cock. Fingers brushed him casually as they worked, not quite stroking but enough to make him strain against the straps.

“You feel how helpless this is going to make you?” one whispered into his ear, her breath warm.

The cables snaked into place. Channel A. Channel B. Each click of a lead into the box made his stomach knot tighter. By the time they were finished, he felt less like a man and more like a live circuit, waiting to be switched on.

The first pulse was barely a tickle — a little shiver across the head of his cock that made him gasp. They smiled at each other, sharing the moment like musicians tuning before the performance. One leaned over and adjusted the dial, the next pulse sharper, more insistent.

“Mmm,” the other murmured. “Let’s play with him together for a while. Get him nice and warmed up.”

Their hands danced across the controls, alternating — one setting a rhythmic throb in his ass, the other letting a teasing buzz flicker around his cockhead. He moaned, caught between them, his body already starting to arch against the restraints.

“Look at him,” one said, brushing her knuckles against his cheek. “So desperate already, and we’ve barely started.”

“Just wait,” the other replied, a wicked glint in her eyes. “I think I’ll make him mine in five minutes flat.”

The sub’s eyes widened. It was only then he realised the glances between them weren’t cooperation — not really. They were sharpening knives, each wanting to push him further, not for his pleasure but for their own amusement.

The pulses jumped a little harder. He bucked in the chair, the leather creaking, cock swelling helplessly against the ring.

And the night had only just begun.