For most of us, regardless of circumstance, there is a certain level of apprehension, embarrassment, and humiliation at being without clothes. Even in a locker room or in front of your doctor most people feel ill at ease and vulnerable. Nudists may tell you they find it exciting. But, I am no nudist and being naked in front of even my own gender is distracting. Add someone from the opposite sex and I concern myself with appearance and decorum. The evening I am about to describe went far beyond this with many others of both sexes in the same rooms walking about, looking, touching, and feeling. Some of them are buck naked, while others modestly attired. Although, I am an adult and consented to all this (at least in a manner of speaking), I am securely hand cuffed every minute.
I was allowed the dignity of wearing a dress to and from the car. This dignity was really for those not invited to the party. No one wants to offend decent neighbors or attract the attention of a teenage boy. Even perverts must be discreet. I walked with help wearing high platform heels. They screamed fuck me! The toe was built up by two inches and the heel raised six. From the moment I put them on there was pain in my toes. They protected the firm support black pantyhose that covered my feet, legs, and ass. A tight fitting long line bra covered my torso. The damn thing was not comfortable for eighteen minutes let alone eighteen hours! A more suitable size of a better product would have been comfortable, but what’s the fun in that! The dress came off at the porch being tossed in a pile of other garments for the poor, and my wrists were locked to a four inch wide belt wrapped tightly about my waist covering the top two inches of my pantyhose.
I wore a collar locked about my neck, heavy make up complete with false eye lashes and lip liner. My blonde wig was shoulder length and uncomfortably hot. Even though, I have pierced ears, I wore no jewelry. The liner of my pantyhose had been removed allowing my cock and balls to hang down. I find this a rather uncomfortable position for the male organs as they are slapped around by the thighs with each step. Most of the other males in the room (having a penis and testicles does not may you a man) were dressed in some manner of women’s attire, although a few were naked.
The tops, masters and mistresses of the slaves, were generally modestly but provocatively dressed. My own wife and mistress wore a leather bra and panty set with thigh high fishnets and high heels that were far lower than mine. Her makeup was simple with smart costume jewelry. Seeing a friend she strutted across the large room leading me along on a leash as though I could walk as briskly as her. I wanted to scream thinking I was about to fall flat on the floor without even the assistance of my hands, but I managed some how to march the dozen steps with the only real problem coming from the toes of my tight shoes and my panting from fear.
“So good to see you Margaret.”
The two mistresses greeted each other with a passionate embrace and the most erotic of French kisses that lasted far too long for just friends of the same gender. Nearly, a minute passed while I and Margaret’s slave stood watching. He at least wore more comfortable shoes with red fishnet stockings, a short barely there red nylon top reaching only to his waist, lots of makeup, a short black wig, and nothing else. His genitals and ass were on view for the world.
He was then motioned to approach me. A look from my superior indicated that we were to exhibit the same type and level of greeting. He was not bound as I was and reaching behind my back pulled me forward nearly knocking us both off our feet. I don’t know about you, but kissing someone with all that makeup with his tongue exploring my mouth and my tongue doing the same in front of a dozen people was rather upsetting. I decided that his very passionate embrace was a forced reaction rather than his truly wanting to bring about erotic pleasure.
As our kiss ended, I lowered my head at which time I saw both our erect pricks saluting each other with the vulgar suggestion that they might kiss. Then, my collar was jerked by the leash and I was pulled away by mistress, but not before my cock jumped up and waved throwing a short spray of fluid perhaps piss, perhaps semen.
“I’m going to see a few people and then I will come back to you, dear. Linda will take control to see that you keep out of trouble until I return.”
With that she turned and walked off leaving the leash in the capable hand of Linda. Now Linda was a female slave wearing flat leather house slippers, a nylon body stocking with lots of support from neck to foot, and a crotch clinging nylon panty girdle all in white against her very black body. In her bare feet she was six feet tall. Her hair was a black kinky cover of maybe a half inch in length. Her only other garment was a welded on brightly polished chrome steel collar. She was a full time slave and a fuller time lesbian. Her mistress had enough respect for her not to force male organs or male touch on her. The respect needed to be mutual. The word was that if she got out of hand even once, a dozen men would do their best to change her preference.
Linda made no greeting or small talk. She only held the leash, until a mistress from the other side of the room waved us over. Linda was careful with me helping me walk with those horrible shoes. When we arrived at the place where the mistress was seated, she ripped the leash from Linda’s hand.
“Oral! I want oral!”
The leash jerked me down to my knees making me think I would crash into either the chair or the floor, but I was lucky. I moved up toward the woman on my knees, terrified I would get a run in my nylons. Putting on a pair before we came, I tore a hole in the right thigh of the stocking. The punishment was a severe beating. I was told to strip off and grab the bar. Letting go of the bar during the beating would start the beating all over again. I got twenty strokes from a short whip. The welts were rubbing against the back of the long line bra all night. Then to teach me to be more careful, she took a large wooden spoon. The large burning blister on the inside of my right thigh bleed for ten minutes. Every time my legs rub together in that area, I jumped thinking I would pass out from the pain. If I get a run, even one, mistress will have every top in the building and maybe some of the slaves take turns on every inch of my body. That’s right, even there!
“Not me fool!”
The mistress lifted the skirt of the slave seated next to her. The cock was long and hard and black as Linda’s ass. I moved carefully to the left and a about a foot closer. Sucking cock was not a new experience for me. In some ways it is cleaner and better and easier than eating pussy. At least cocks don’t have periods and they finish faster.
Leaning forward the other slave steadied me with his hands at my shoulders. I covered the head of the circumcised organ with my lips giving a licking and gentle sucking motion. I have only sucked cock voluntarily twice with two different males. Mistress has required this service a dozen or so times at parties like this and in her home. Her rule is: slaves have no preference and if it is disgusting, or makes me feel sick all the better. I never will tell her, but I sort of like it. Her reasoning is simply this. She sucks cock and eats pussy and I must do the same. After all she has a preference and I do not.
Sucking cock is a challenge especially for a non gay male. I realize you don’t think of me that way, but it’s true. My first wish is to give the male a great deal of wild pleasure. Hopefully, more pleasure than he has ever received from a woman. I start out slow on the head and then lick the shaft. I feel the pulsating of the penis under my tongue. I can judge how much longer the guy can hold out by the feel of the organ and the way it fights my mouth. This guy was not going to last long. I think it was a first time for him, at least by the same sex.
After the first minute, I began a short deep throat. It never goes far back down into me; I have never mastered that ability. Then I proceed with a rhythmic stroking motion. I can feel the penis pulse in my mouth and hear the guy groan. I always take the load on the forward deep stroke, hold it there for twenty to thirty seconds, and then scrape the cock firmly but not painfully as it moves toward my lips. There is always an additional short burst of cum in my mouth as the head reaches my lips. This one was no exception. As for the taste, most of it is down my throat and what is left on the palette is rather neutral. This one, however, had the flavor of asparagus.
Immediately after I finished and rolled over against the legs of my current partner, Linda placed a gag at my mouth. There was little use objecting, so I opened wide and got stuffed not even allowed to drink a little water and wash the taste away. I didn’t know whose gag, but I knew it was not one of ours. It was bigger and tighter than any placed behind my teeth before. I could not help feeling something really bad was going to happen, to me I mean.
For the next twenty minutes or so, I caught my breath, tried to relax, and watched an application. That is what we call it when new people join the club. When we joined it was simple. Strip down, greet everyone with a sexy kiss. Slave kisses every ass, tops kiss the other tops on the mouth. Then, two ladies took me to the shed (a double car garage used for torment) and whipped and ass-fucked me for a couple of hours. My wife, the mistress, got to give one stroke with a brutal whip on the ass of every slave. She made the best of it leaving a welt on each one with a little blood on a few. The other tops cheered. That was two and a half years ago. Things have changed and become more symbolic.
These applicants were a male-female couple that were both bottoms. They were brought in about two hours after the party started wearing street clothes and blindfolds. The woman wore short heels, slacks, knitted top while the guy wore pants shirt, and sport shoes. They were in their late thirties as most of as were with no children or plans for them. Their sponsors, after blindfolding them, striped off naked and led them to the raised platform.
The woman spoke first explaining they both enjoyed bondage, but because they liked receiving more than giving their satisfaction was limited. I remember the words of the male who said, “I am hoping for some very different and exciting experiences as a slave in this club.” I only hoped he knew what he was saying.
The couple recited a paragraph about discretion and total control. It is designed to display consent, but it really amounts to nothing more than a symbolic expression of submission. Then they were asked to disrobe. Everything, but the blindfold, went into a plastic bag. Then the male sponsor, a bottom, gave each of them a passionate kiss on the lips and kneeling before the female tongued her pussy as best he could. She was surprised and tried to back off, but the female sponsor, a top, held her in place. The same genital affection was applied to the male, who seemed less surprised. The tops symbolic act was to take an electric cattle probe and holding it to the clit of the applicant push the button. The scream was high pitched and ear piercing loud. The husband wanted to know what had happened almost removing his blindfold to find out, but stopping knowing that removing the blindfold would disqualify them. After being told what had been done to his wife, he asked (I think it was symbolic) that it be done to him. I could feel the pain when the bitch jolted his balls.
The next perverted act was to have intercourse in front of everyone including the slaves. Missionary style was expected with a three minute time frame. It took 172 seconds. Then they 69d with the female on top. She sucked the cock with her juices on it while he ate the pussy with his cum mixed in. They were introduced to the tops during the night with touching and feeling. In the morning, they would join a dozen of the other slaves to clean house. The blindfolds would be removed at that time. Each weekend for 100 days, they are required to report to one of the tops for orientation and training. If any top gives a bad report or they fail to report for the whole weekend, they fail. The sponsors will be held accountable.
The sponsors have a great responsibility regarding the first 100 days of the applicants orientation to the club. The male, being a slave, will be castrated should they fail in any way. This was expressed at the applicants surprise during the ceremony. Castration, as we refer to it, was never explained. We don’t mean the surgical removal of the balls. The male is placed in a male chastity device such as a CB2000. The first time he must endure 100 days. The second time it is for a year. The tops tell us that should a third time be needed it will be with a knife. However, we have not seen this and hope it is only a bad joke.
I went through castration. My wife after three months with the club got to talking with a couple of the other female tops and was asked if I masturbated. Of course, such a practice is considered adultery by the mistress. She asked me if I masturbated and rather than lie told her yes. One of the ladies gave her a used device and after my privates were shaved (with a few nicks) I was locked in it. The key to the lock is held at the treasurer’s office. No one can release the male for the full length of time. Removing the device in any way other than with the key requires the real castration. It was a little tight. I woke screaming in pain two or three times a night unable to complete an erection. It required that I sit to pee like a woman. Or as my wife says, like a decent person.
During this time of my castration, I practiced eating my wife’s pussy at least once and often twice each day. We started two days after her period when she had douched. A few weeks later the hard reality of womanhood left a bad taste in my mouth. I know when her period starts better than she does. After sixty days, I was allowed the added privilege of being her toilet paper. I can’t tell you which tastes worse, only than I taste shit more often. After promising never to touch my cock and balls in an inappropriate manner and always to pee sitting down, the key was delivered and the device “temporarily” removed. I was required to sign a statement saying, that if I needed to wear the device again it would be for a full year without a break. The third time would have me strapped down, gagged, and a sharp knife cutting through my scrotum and severing my gonads forever. We all hope it is just symbolic, of course.
After the applicants were led away to a place of “introduction”, my wife came over and told me what had happened.
“Generally, you know dear I am very lucky with the dice. The last two times I won and received the use of two very fine slaves. Well, our luck has run out. I lost and you are the payment. These three gentlemen will be taking you to the shed until dawn. I hope you will feel like sticking around and helping with the clean up. The new applicants are such adorable people. Do get to know them. I can’t wait till we have them for a week end. You can teach him how to suck cock. Oh, guys, I don’t want anything back but the collar and what’s in it. Oh, and the shoes, they cost $95. If they get scuffed up, he can practice licking them clean. I’ll miss you!”
There was one guy dressed in leather holding each of my arms while the third carrying the leash led the way to the shed. I had only been to the shed once before without my wife and that was with Margaret. She spent the night enjoying all kinds of perversion against my body, mind, and soul. I had to wear a diaper for three days! The toe nails took weeks to grow back. The shed is a horrible place where all sorts of things are done. My knees were clasping and my whole body was trembiling. You may believe I am a queer cock sucking coward. Just see how you feel the first time three strangers drag you off to be gang raped!
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16.10.07