This story was a commission from one of my clients, it's based on a porn video available somewhere on the Internet. Hope you enjoy it.

The man was trapped in a dark box that concealed his identity. A completely anonymous individual with no face or name whatsoever. Only a protruding appendage at the center of the wooden box indicated his presence. A white, feeble weenie that showed no signs of recent activity. Flaccid, small, and seemingly alive. The tiny thing was resting there with a nice pair of pink balls that didn’t look any bigger than the phallus above them.

The box, sometimes moving as the man inside crawled, not from pain or terror but from anticipation, offered nothing else but that flabby member that refused to back off. Some centimeters away, under the hole, a mysterious hook stood brightly. One would expect a curious finger or a peeking eye watching through the hole, but those biological items weren’t supposed to experience the weird yet exciting events that would unfold little after. The man, still shrouded in anonymity, stood stark against the emptiness. He was a lone figure in the center of a vast, deserted room, its four walls draped entirely in black satin. The fabric, smooth and heavy, swallowed any light that dared enter, casting the space in a perpetual twilight. Despite the chilling silence and the oppressive darkness, the man held himself steady, and relaxed. He was there for his fate, whatever it may be, ready to submit to the silk torment.

Then, she entered.

“Well, well, well… what we do have here?”

Her melodic, soft voice was like a ringing alarm to the man’s excitement. Resting inside the box, the darkness numbed his sight as his heart started beating hard the closer her steps seemed.

He took a deep breath, trying not to burst into mindless chatting as the nervousness took over him. The woman’s sudden presence surely made his stomach churn with expectations and mild impatience. He could hear her bare feet walking closely to the box that separated him from her world, and he couldn’t stop the drumming of his chest as the anticipation grew. With a swish of rich, purple silk, the blonde woman approached the box. Her curves, accentuated by the luxurious robe, swayed gently with each step. The robe, short enough to reveal her meaty thighs, framed her exuberant figure, turning her into some kind of sexual goddess whose erotism would fill the room thick as steam. Two huge breasts remarked her cleavage, drawing all the attention to her chest. A big booty was the monument of her appealing aura because, beyond her attractive physique, there was something in her voice and manners that were like a magnet. Her hair, a cascade of sun-kissed gold, tumbled down her shoulders, framing a face alight with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. Her eyes, the color of a summer sky, glittered with excitement. As the woman drew closer, she clutched a dark purple silk lace in her hands, its delicate tendrils cascading from her fingertips like a waterfall of midnight shadows. The air crackled with anticipation, the silence broken only by the whisper of silk against the floor and the faint rustle of the lace in her trembling grasp.

With no introductions, the woman’s gaze arrived straight at the center of the box, where the weenie poked through a tiny hole.
The woman knelt before the box, her hand flying to that flaccid thing that stepped out of the black, dull box.

“Did someone bring me a present…?” she purred, her index finger hovering over the penis. Her delicate, well-cared hands explored its presence, squishing it slightly. White, mid-length nails adorned the tip of her slim fingers. He felt her index finger continuously squeezing and poking the meat of his phallus, moving from his base to the balls over and over. Yes, just like dough. The man trembled with pleasure and shivers as he felt her fingertips kneading his member.

“…I think they did!” She continued pressing and squishing the weenie as if she were playing with dough, her curious yet naughty game igniting the lust between her and the unknown man trapped inside the box. She began taking it with more fingers, showing more confidence now as she stroked that weenie and bent it over, treating it like a dildo or some sort of silicon toy. The texture of his soft skin was cute and amusing to her, enticing her deepest desires as she portrayed her next move in her mind. A move he wouldn’t expect. She smiled with mischievousness, straightening her silk lace with a sexy gesture.

“I like this, you can’t move…”

It was almost one meter long, enough material to do what she had in plans.

“I’m gonna play with you, with my silk… what do you think?” She chuckled seductively… her playful tone was about to make him hard. “I’ll wrap it around you.”

With careful movements, she surrounded the penis with the dark-purple ribbon, its silk texture embracing the phallus. Both hands accommodated the lace around its frame, pulling it up for a moment. The man’s surprised moan, caught in his throat, was loud enough to trespass the box’s walls. A high-pitched gasp that revealed his collected anticipation breaking apart as the touch of the silk, and the mild pressure of the woman’s hands, brushed his flaccid member. She quickly positioned above the box, sitting on it and facing the cock with anticipation.

“Let’s see…”

The man’s senses focused on what was happening outside that box, the muffled sound of her voice, the mild squeaking of the box as she sat on it, her weight pushing down the surface just a bit —enough to make him sure she was above him, dominating the terrain, controlling his already suffocating surroundings. She brushed his phallus with the silk ribbon… just once before she stopped.

“I’ll start to tickle it first,” she advanced, adding a chuckle that made her sound even more confident about what she was doing. Her voice would ease the man’s nervousness,
replacing it with evocative feelings of anxious lust.

She moved her fingertips slowly for the first second as if she didn’t want to scare him or stimulate him much. Eventually, her fingers started moving faster: “Does that tickle? Is your little friend ticklish?” Just as she finished her words, her fingers ran to him again, moving frantically against his balls and reacting phallus; “Tickly, tickly, tickly, tickly!” she repeated with a lively voice as her fingers tickled the weenie. Slowly, it started growing and inflating.

Her fingers and pointy nails poked him multiple times, it was both a soft teasing and an exciting overture; he could feel those barely stinging points all over his member; from the top of his gland to the very base of his balls. For a moment, she held the head of his wonk with two fingers and tickled the bottom, then tickled both at the same time. It was an explosion of stimulation that threatened to put him on the verge early.

Once the tickling stopped, the silk ribbon came back. Wrapping the phallus with it, the woman started massaging his tiny thing with the lace, moving it from side to side as if she were wiping it out with a towel. She uses the silk, its surface a mix of smooth and slightly textured cloth, to create a symphony of sensations. With each stroke, the silk whispered against his skin, the sound almost inaudible yet strangely soothing. The fabric transmitted the pressure evenly, preventing any harsh digging sensation despite the frantic movement applied. Instead, it was like a wave of gentle pressure rolling over his sensitive gland, releasing his built-up tension with each stroke.

“Does that feel good? It better does!”

The abrasive sensation of the silk gliding over the sensitive skin of his member made him turn in pleasure inside the box —a box that impeded him from moving and restrained his pleasure reactions.

“Does that feel so good in the head of your prick, huh? It’s making your thingy nice and hard,” she said a bit louder, moving the lace on the top of his cock; the silk rubbing his gland side to side, the synthetic silk grinding against his polished skin, making the pink turn into a more intense color as the swelling began to numb his member. She would move 
it up and down, brushing, wiping out, stroking his penis with the silk.

“And if I do that in your balls…?”

He felt the silk sliding down to his balls, on top of them. Squeezing his round, little balls against the box as the woman rubbed them with the silk. The mild abrasion, the growing heat, and the fabric’s soft embrace bruised him simultaneously, a sensation that would leave a burning impression afterward.

“How does that feel?” she repeated, working the ribbon against the phallus, its skin turning red. The moans were caged with him, the vast emptiness surrounding his body except for that excited, overstimulated weenie that peeked through the hole, completely submitted to the torment of silk.

Then, as the woman continued her dirty monologue, she tangled her present with the ribbon; the silk surrounded the base and balls, tightening a bit, warming up those cute genitals as the silk continued to apply its abrasive massage: “I’ll put them nice and close together, and I could put that piece to tease the shit out of your dick.” A silk-dressed penis stood before her, now dancing and bouncing in all directions as she grinded him.

“I’ll go back to tickle you,” she announced with a mischievous chuckle. Right away, she removed the silk that covered him and pointed her nails at his figure; balls, phallus and gland suffered the pleasurable stroking of her fingertips. The occasional dip of her fingernails into his gland’s surface would make him gasp in anticipation and excitement, the stinging running through him and settling on his bottom. The same sensation happened in his balls when she tickled them, almost scratching the mild division of his balls and causing him lots of pleasure.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle…!” she laughed, a heavy breathing hiding under her neutral, playful tone. His moans, muffled by the oppressive box, were the testimony of his torment. A torment he was willing to endure. “Tickle, tickle, tickle! Do you like my fingernails on your weenie?”

She moved back to his balls, tickling them with both hands, before going to the gland again. A sharp, bold scratching that would make him tickle intensely. The box would move if he weren’t so tight inside.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle!” She continued, tickling his gland with greater movements, her fingernails slightly pinching him. The previous game with the silk prepared him to endure the intense tickling of her fingers, and the torment would increase its intensity with each passing minute.

“You see... I know how that feels because I’m wearing silk,” the woman expressed, standing up and bringing back a big piece of silk, the same material as the previously used ribbon. Dark-purple, shimmering silk that would now attack his penis. “I have this nice, big silk robe. It feels so good on the skin! So I know how it would feel good on your cock.”

The woman took the big piece of cloth and held it above the excited member, soon to be covered by the ominous silk. She made a ribbon with a heavy cloth that barely fit in her hands and started groping him with it just like she did with the lace, but now, the wider presence of the silk allowed him to feel more and deeper.

“Let me see what can I do,” she said, exploring the options available to work the silk on that swollen cock of the man inside the box. She began rubbing it, polishing it, moving the piece of cloth from left to right, embracing his gland and phallus over and over, making the box tremble as the poor guy hiding inside experienced the mild burning taking over his thingy with more intensity. His hips barely moved up, following an automatic response from his body to the overwhelming stimulation. The silk covered him entirely now, and the woman grinded it over the erection, rubbing the top; “Sure, this would make you cum, huh? Teasing the head.” Her gestures became heavier and rougher, and she slightly pressed against the guy’s hard cock as she polished it. Now, his member followed the harsh rhythm of the silk that dominated him; back and forth, the continuous pulling and pushing of the cloth would make his phallus bend under the silk’s brushing. His gland, trapped below the piece of cloth, moved frantically, subdued to the woman’s eager movements.

“You like that, don’t you?” she teased him, squeezing his penis against his balls as she pushed the silk below. His balls were swollen enough to bulk out the hole. The silk moved around him, over him, everywhere; the abrasion pushing his pleasure to the edge of a void he couldn’t resist. Sometimes, the prick would bounce out the silk’s dance, shaking a bit before being sucked into the restless motion. Back and forward, the man’s erection would bend to the pressure of those hands controlling the silk.

Now, his balls were noticeably bigger, swollen and meaty, full of cum ready to be ejected anytime soon.

She wrapped it again, hugging his genitals and squeezing them together before groping them with the silk; she put the cloth on the phallus and balls and started massaging them in circular movements. The penis twitched as she jerks it with the cloth, covering it whole. There’s no sign of an erection beneath that shimmering, dark-purple silk, nothing but a framed bulge that couldn’t move freely. Right after the circles, her nails came to the scene once again.

“Can you feel me tickling you through the silk?” she asked, in a moaning voice that revealed her excitement.

Surrounding that phallic bulk covered in silk, she began to scratch the surface again with playful fingers. The man in the box moaned in ecstasy as he experienced a new form of masturbation; the silk was now like a second skin that allowed him to interpret the woman’s touch from a different perspective: a numbed one with increased softness, but harder pressure. Her tickly nails teased him from the outside, and the silk would muffle the pinching; she would need to apply even more pressure if she wanted to drive him crazy.

“Is that a different sensation?” She asked, not getting any response from inside the box besides numbed moans. “I have to say this is funny! You can do nothing; you're stuck.
Helpless,” she added, her fingers teasing his hopeless, immobilized bulge. She was his mistress or more than that, she was his owner at that time.

The silk groping continued its usual rhythm, going back and forth as cock looked swollen to the point it would explode shortly. “I’m a weenie shiner,” she joked, her hands moving left and right endlessly, massaging that member she played with so willingly. After a while of hard silk masturbation, she let the prick free to moisturize it: “Maybe we should moisten this dick a little bit, don’t you think?” she asked seconds before putting that sensitive, pink gland inside her warm, wet mouth. She sucked the very tip, closing her lips around it and licking the gland’s urethra for a couple of seconds, making circular movements on it, and squeezing the tip of her tongue against his glans. He felt a jolt of pleasure running through him as that steamy mouth caged his tip, and the movements of her hard, dampened tongue sent shivers down his phallus, going straight to his crotch with a tickly, numb sensation.

He moaned louder, his hips hitting the surface of the box for a moment as the striking ecstasy made him turn uncontrollably. She then moved back, the tip of his penis shining with her saliva: “Now, that’s a shiny weenie right there, are you ready to feel the cold?” and then, she leaned on the humid gland and started blowing. The fresh breath made him feel that stinging cold for a moment until the saliva started to evaporate.

She blew a bit more, and then, it was time to go back to the basics. The familiar brush of the silk embraced the previously dampened gland, and after a while, it was being covered almost entirely. The woman stretched the silk over him, rubbing the erection harder than before, and stopping after a couple of minutes: “Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle!” She chuckled, taking the silk off the penis and nailing it with her white, squared-styled manicure. Those nails would tap frantically around his phallus and gland, below the fold of his head, and near the base of his member. The stinging was low but steady, enough to stimulate him intensely for a while until he was close to cum. Nonetheless, she was an expert and would stop before that happened.

The box moved up and down, following the man’s breathing chest and belly as he was receiving such a painful yet pleasurable stimulation. The sharpness of her nails wasn’t as acute as it seemed, but surely added an interesting dimension to her touch. It was a mild tickling that lingered closely to a pleasant torture he couldn’t resist. A boiling experience that would push him to his limits each minute, a constant come-and-go that controlled his senses. The silk came back, now wrapping around the phallus alone. It was the lace from the beginning, now seemingly alien to the situation since his skin got used to the heavy, overwhelming presence of that big piece of cloth.

“There we go! How about that? I knew that hook would come in handy for something! Makes it so much easier to play with your dick! How about a little faster, huh?”

The ribbon, whatsoever, had a localized effect on him. It was easier to control, and able to reach some parts of his penis the bigger silk would just… absorb homogenously. The lace tightened around that slim, overstimulated wonk and began working it; the woman moved the silk from side to side, mimicking a washing machine or a similar mechanism. It would stumble against the folds of his gland, the lace threatening to choke the head each time. The box kept breathing. The ribbon would slide out the phallus as the movement propelled it upwards

The woman had to put it back on the base of the phallus, only to repeat the action several times before using the hook again, putting one edge of the ribbon within the hook’s curve, and the other part gliding against the erection. Now the balls and the penis felt the embrace of the burning silk as it rubbed against them. The woman would move her hands faster now, the lace following her gestures. The polishing of the weenie wouldn’t end there; the hook had an important task still to be proved.

“What if I do this? Would it work?”

Right away, she began to wrap the phallus. One turn, then the other went over the hook. A second turn hugged the genitals and the hook closer, and a third one held them steady. She used the whole ribbon to attach the penis to the hook with a knot after the turns, and now it was dressed almost entirely, except for the head. That glad poked out the silk dress the woman put onto the erection, holding it tight with the support hook. The penis was left immobilized, again, and wrapped up in a warm, soothing silk that caressed his microscopic scratches.

“Are you ready? Here it comes!” The woman announced, bringing back the big piece of silk to rub and polish the revealed gland. With her hands, she wiped out the bright, swollen head of the caged man. That dark-purple cloth made the dick disappear under as it kept moving nonstop from one side to the other. “F-faster,” she gasped, her movements quickening with some sloppiness within; too much friction that loomed all over the genitals. Extenuating, overwhelming. The man felt that burning sensation taking over him one more time as the silk-textured cloth aimed to masturbate this phallus.

It was both a physical embrace and a metaphor for what he felt inside, that electric jolt that ran through him, the pleasure radiating from his balls and gland to the rest of his lap. His lungs moved up and down, a sharp breathing with no rhythm, succumbing to the delightful experience he was involved in.

“I’ll go back to the tickles.”

She didn’t remove the silk, just added the eager touch of her confident fingers. Instead, she scrubbed the weenie’s gland with the silk, making sure he could feel every single fiber of the cloth, and her index finger and thumb squeezing it. Her other hand added the tickles: fingernails penetrating his frame repeatedly, nailing his skin through the barrier of 
the silk. Now, she felt more focused on applying as many sensations as possible. Harder strokes and bold gestures, just like trying to masturbate that helpless, prisoner wonk with the silk covering her bare fingertips.

“Let me see how this little thingy is doing… How are you doing?” She chuckled, facing the exposed gland right before she started tickling it naked, “This game is beginning 
to go back and forth, isn't it? Between the silk and fingernails.”

After picking on the gland for a while, feeling the breathing, the excited man below the box’s surface, and circling it with her thumb, the silk came back again, now faster than before. The rubbing was hard enough to make him spasm in pleasure, aiming to reach his climax soon.

“I think that I’ve just messed with you just enough,” The woman added, her silk torment still functioning, “I’ll get you right to the edge, and when I switch to the silk you’ll cum, won’t you?”

Her words were more like a sweet threat than a deal. After removing the ribbon from the hook and his penis, she put it back to use as before. By wiping out the phallus, she would add dirty moans to the process, teasing the man’s orgasm. Enticing him to cum as her gestures increased in speed and strength. The silk, always shimmering and tidy, gleamed against the swollen skin of the penis, which appeared to be bigger than before due to the constant friction and the nonstop stimulation he was receiving.

“I can play with your thingy all day! With your weenie and your clean, poofy plums!”

The silk torment extended to the hook, the wrapping starting one more time as the man felt closer to the end, his heart beating hard like an orchestra of drums. Still, there was no sign of giving up from his side.

“It seems like your little friend here isn’t about to get off soon, so I think I will just 
let you enjoy the silk… and I’ll tickle you in the meantime.”

Hugged tightly and with the gland exposed, the tickling nails appeared to add more interesting sensations to an already overworked and oversensitive cock. The mild pinch of her nails was enough to bring it out, and before she could realize it, the first load of cum arrived on the side of the box. The stain getting attached to the cloth that surrounded the ejaculating weenie. It was rather a dry orgasm, but intense enough to make the man’s muscles flex for a while, his back arching inwards as the strike of the ecstasy ran through his trapped body.

The woman laughed, some satisfaction accompanying her voice, but still, she wasn’t done with the silk torment. “Finally! It wasn’t so hard, was it? Now I can continue playing with you a little more!”

With his dick still sensitive from the recent orgasm, the contact of her nails as she dared to tickle him again made him shudder; the touch was too much for him, and started to ache. It was a numbing, stinging sensation that aimed to continue as the woman didn’t show any signs of finishing.

She picked up the silk and started brushing that vulnerable, immobilized gland… all over again.