MARK NINE
Van was instructed to go home quickly and reapply body oil since a lot of it had inevitably washed off. The boy did so after drinking an absurd amount of water to quench his thirst.
"Next," the man on the phone said, "is a more difficult task. I'm sorry but it doesn't get easier. I want to remind you that you MUST succeed in at least one task or you will die. I'm not joking, Van."
"Okay, just give me the task. I'll do anything. I feel like I've already done anything possible."
"Listen closely because this is a bit vague," that attorney said. "You need to be in pain to succeed at this task. The pain must be self-inflicted. You don't have to stab yourself with a knife but you need to be in a lot of really, really painful situations at once to accomplish the goal. Anything you can think of. Best you choose things that last long so you can use them together. You have ten minutes. Good luck."
The first thing Van did was to put clothes pegs on his nipples. After all he had been through I was merely uncomfortable. He fiddled a bit and found out that the very tip of his erect nipples were the only area where the pain was great. Nearly overwhelming. But he had to keep going, even as electric signals shot from his nipples to his brain telling him to stop.
He took off his belt, becoming fully nude again and grabbed a different belt from his room – one that was also very thin but harder. He whipped his own back, but he couldn't really bring himself to the point of making it truly painful.
Then he used a long wooden spoon to hit his ass but again he couldn't really go all the way. He was near desperate, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The phone rang again.
"Hello?"
"Van, I forgot to tell you that social and emotional pain also counts. Remember that there are not many marks left and you could end up dead. Do whatever it takes."
"Emotional and social pain?"
"Anything that is humiliating and degrading. Anything that makes you suffer sadness and anger. If you have a girlfriend break up with her. But don't neglect physical pain. You have seven minutes left."
Right away Van texted both the girls he had been seeing that they were filthy whores and he had only used them. Then he blocked their numbers. His heart was racing like never before but this was his way out. If only this caused him enough pain.
Following that he took selfies of his current condition, including the pegs on his ringed nipples. He didn't have his erection in the picture because he needed to post it on all of his social media where his hundreds of friends and followers would see it without risk of it being taken down. This was still better than death.
He kept posting selfies with fake smiles and even submitted some to the school newspaper.
To those pictured he added captions like "sucked some good dick today #FinallySixteen #ImAFag #LoveCock" and "nothing better than cum to start the day #VanSucksDicks #DrinkUp". Even though pictures of his ass would be taken down from most of the sites, he at least posted about the butt plug to tell everyone how much he loved anal.
Van couldn't imagine anything more crushing than what he had just done. He was destroyed forever. He had two minutes left to add physical pain.
The boy tore off his pegs and put them back on turned by ninety degree which made the pain wonderfully intense. Van gasped and shook with terror.
He grabbed as many weight plates from his room as he could stack and put them on the kitchen table. Van lifted the stack with one hand and put his balls under it with the other. Hesitating for a few seconds he took deep breaths. The muscle teen let the stack smash down on his balls and winced at the impact. But he hadn't pulled away. This was what he needed.
The pain was liberating but of course nausea struck. He didn't have anything solid in his stomach which saved him from puking. But he had to let the stack crash onto his balls again and again. The pain was making him insane. Van mumbled and yelled word fragments, mixed with animalistic grunts. His veins all over his tense body were popping through his tan skin.
Finally he grabbed the wooded spoon again and beat his ass cheeks for real, as if he was trying to inflict permanent damage.
The tingling came. He hit harder. He slammed his hand on the weight stack. He tore the pegs off.
Finally the tickling subsided. Crying from the torture Van ran to the bathroom mirror and looked at every piece of skin his body had to offer. Nothing. He had made it. He broke down on the floor which became slippery from his body oil and cried from happiness and relieve.
Finally the attorney called again. "How did it go, Van?"
"I made it! I succeeded! No new mark!"
"Wonderful! If you had failed you would have felt the tickling by now."
"Oh, I felt that but I worked harder and it went away."
"Did you feel it in any particular place?"
"No, just all over. And then it went away."
The man on the other side of the line was quiet for a moment before speaking with some sadness in his voice. "I'm afraid you received a mark that covers you entire body."
"What?"
"Please put on some clothing right now."
Van fetched pair of sweatpants and tried to slip one foot in. As soon as the leg was halfway enveloped he got a horrific sensation. The fabric felt so `wrong', so very uncomfortable, he couldn't imagine wearing it for more than a few seconds without going crazy. It was like the most intense itch possible without any scratching to fix it.
The teen tried the same with other items, but not even socks would fit him without his feet feeling like they were getting the worst rash of his life.
"What is happening?" he screamed into the phone.
"This mark makes it impossible for you to wear anything bigger than the item I have provided for you. It's not so bad, this city has hot weather all year round. It will barely be an inconvenience."
Van cried. He had accepted so much shame and degradation just to get the worst mark yet. And he might die very soon.
"Alright," he said, through tears, "What do I do next?"
Our protagonist is nothing if not determined. Running around naked forever may not sound so bad until you think it through. But I promise it can get worse.
Give me feedback if you like this story.