‘Section 15.18 The Submissive agrees to service or be sexually used by any person or persons of the Dominant’s choosing. Such encounters may include participation of multiple people at a time if that so pleases the Dominant. The Submissive will be bound, restrained and blindfolded during these encounters and this is by the Submissive’s expressed request and consent.
The Submissive explicitly grants his permission to be sexually used and abused by those individuals invited by the Dominant to take part in the activities with the Submissive, and furthermore, the Submissive grants his permission for those individuals to complete such acts on the Submissive while the Submissive is bound, restrained and/or blindfolded.
Furthermore, the Submissive acknowledges that under these bondage conditions he may not be aware that he is about to be used by others and grants them permission to proceed with their engagement with the Submissive, whatever it may be, without notification. The participants shall abide by the limits of Appendix 2 and the safety/health edicts of this document.
Permission is also granted to these participants to engage with the Submissive in any of the activities listed in the Appendix 2 Acceptable Activities/Soft Limits list. The identities of the individuals engaging with the Submissive need not be revealed to him. The Dominant will retain the knowledge of who participated if later health notifications need to be made. The participants will not reveal to others the identity of the Submissive.’
This would be my second encounter with this Dominant, who I am to call Dr. D, and his friends. As such, I knew I would likely be treated severely before I agreed to take part, but like an addiction, I couldn’t help myself and said yes. You can choose to believe this is all made up. I get it as even I couldn’t have imagined beforehand that I’d be subjected to some of the things that were ultimately done to me, but I did live it.
The bonds that held me fast so I couldn’t resist, the punishments that caused both pain and suffering and my disgust from the constant sexual use by other men still sticks with me. All of which were consensually permitted per the terms of the servitude contract I signed. Dr. D and his friends stretched those contract boundaries to their limits; far beyond what my original basic intent and desires were trying to capture when constructing it with Sir Michael back in 2023.
Chapter 1: Security Traded Away for Access, a Contract Revision
Since I was young, I have been obsessed with bondage. I have fantasies that run the spectrum of me engaging with bound women to myself being tied or restrained by others. Faithfully married and straight, deeply in love with a wife that isn’t into bondage, let alone BDSM, I had no outlet for fulfilling my fantasies with her, or myself, and certainly not with other women. As an escape, I’ve dabbled in private self-bondage and watching bondage and BDSM videos online. It helps, but there is nothing like the real thing.
My best friend, who I have known since college, and who happens to be gay, was aware of my desires and situation. Through ongoing conversations together, we hatched a plan to try to satisfy my needs. I would visit him for a vacation; where he would take on the role of Sir Michael and I would be his sub. We had fun creating a subservient contract.
And with that document in hand, I went for a week back in 2023 to his home in San Diego, where Sir Michael, along with some of his gay friends, securely bound me to various pieces of adult furniture with leather cuffs, chains, and ropes. With me then blindfolded and sometimes gagged, they sexually used and abused me for the week. The long, detailed and sometimes unsettling narrative is all captured in my first journal ‘Eight Days in a Binding Contract’.
Within the year we ended up meeting again, this time at the home of his friend. Unlike Sir Michael, this gentleman is a real practicing Dominant who with his submissive mate has a substantial dungeon in their palatial Las Vegas home. This long weekend became a captivating, yet extremely challenging bondage and torture filled time for me; well-exceeding what was done to me in San Diego.
The owner, known to me now as Dr. D, along with numerous other practicing dominants and their submissives used me as their source of entertainment. I was required again to write about what was done to me which became my second journal ‘Vegas Twelve to One: Daunting Odds’. It also is a long, but exhilarating read into the real experiences I endured as a bound and abused submissive.
At both encounters, other than Sir Michael, the participants’ identities remained anonymous to me. A safety feature for all of us and part of my fantasy. However, the second experience created an unusual connection between Dr. D and me. Despite not even knowing each other’s real names and where we lived, we began to communicate, first by messaging and then by phone, initially always through Sir Michael.
Although the visit to his Vegas dungeon was a very trying experience, I wanted to again be bound and used by Dr. D and his friends, and he likewise wanted me to return. In my other journals I tried to explain how this subservient role fulfills a counter to my normally strong Type A personality, but I still don’t fully understand it myself. I just know it has provided me with both mental relief and sexual gratification.
So, we discussed another visit. The primary stumbling block was Sir Michael. He wasn’t overly interested in again ‘roleplaying’ as my ‘Dominant’ as it didn’t excite him like it did me. What he had been doing was because of our friendship, not because he got off from it and twice was enough for him. Privately Sir Michael and Dr. D discussed a possible solution. Their answer was to modify the contract by adding a rental clause where the submissive, me, could be rented to another Dominant, in this case Dr. D. In their eyes, not mine, all three of us would be winners.
They came to me with the following proposed contract changes:
Strike the first sentence of Section 15.10, being ‘The Dominant shall not loan his Submissive to another Dominant outside of his direct control.’ And replace it with: ‘The Dominant may at his sole discretion, rent his rights, privileges, responsibilities, and controls provided for within this contract to another Dominant of his choosing. Upon paying the rental fee, complete transfer of power and authority over the submissive shall occur and the submissive shall become bonded into servitude to the purchaser for the duration of the rental period. The ownership of the submissive returns to the original Dominant upon the conclusion of the rental period.
The Renter cannot resell the contract to a third party. The Renter agrees to abide by all the provisions of the contract between the Dominant and the submissive. The submissive shall serve and treat the new Dominant during the rental period in the same manner and respect as he is required to serve the original Dominant, and agrees to comply with all rules, terms, conditions, requirements, permissions, acceptable uses, activities and service provisions provided in this contract. Failure of the submissive to serve in a suitable manner shall result in appropriate punishment until the behavior is modified to the satisfaction of the new Dominant.
The basic submissive protections listed in fundamental terms set out in Clauses 2-5 will apply. The Dominant may direct the Submissive while under his supervision to service or be sexually used by another Dominant or other invited guest(s)/friend(s) of the Dominant’s choosing within the limits of Appendix 2 and the safety/health edicts of this document. The Submissive shall treat any invited guest in the same manner he is required to serve the Dominant; obeying any order, performing every task, and accepting any discipline or torture the guest wishes to deliver and shall do so without hesitation or argument as long as these actions pleases the Dominant.’
Needless to say, initially I was not keen on this proposed change. My sense of safety I held knowing my ‘Dominant’ was a trusted long term best friend would be lost. I was being placed in the hands of a relative stranger who was a real well-practiced BDSM Dominant. We had gotten to know each other during my visit to his home and through our recent conversations, where he had proved to be someone to be trusted, but this was still risky.
The two of them eventually wore me down and convinced me that this idea was a good one for all of us. And on the strength of my relationship with Mike, who assured me my real safety would be maintained, combined with my stupid uncontrolled urges to be bound and then used for real, I relented and agreed. We made the changes, and I signed the modified document electronically.
Chapter 2: An Unforgettable Tour of Vegas
As an aside, my wife has been on sabbatical from her teaching position since the end of the past school year to enable her to complete her chemistry doctorate. As part of her studies, during the Fall of 2024 she would be in Europe, attending a well-known university for a semester as a visiting researcher, conducting experiments to support her doctorate thesis.
This coincided with Dr. D and Sir Michael coming to rental terms, resulting in me being leased to Dr. D from Friday September 6 to Sunday September 8, 2024, for the fee of one dollar. This weekend was selected because it would occur early on during my wife’s time away, leaving enough time in case a second period of leasing me was sought before she returned. So now, for at least one weekend, I would belong to Dr. D to be bound and used as he saw fit as permitted by what is now ‘our contract’.
I arrange my flights and time away. As it was not unusual for me to be traveling, my trip would raise no questions. Sir Michael will not be in attendance. Curious, I would come to realize I had wrongly discounted the psychological importance that he ‘just being there’ provided.
I was given minimal information about what to expect. I was told for the weekend that the four other masters that I had interacted with on my last trip to Vegas would be participating along with the other two masters I had not met that completed the group’s tight fraternity. This was a formal group with an actual charter, set of rules, even a name, the ‘Common Bonds Social Club’. None of them would be bringing their submissives, also members of the club, as this was to be a ‘Dominants Only’ play weekend.
The bottom line, that meant there would be seven tormentors gathered with only me there for them to act out on. I was keenly aware this would make for a tough weekend. To counter that anxiety, I concentrated on the fact that based on the ongoing conversations I had been having with Dr. D, he was fully familiar with many of my kinky bondage fantasies and likely would be trying to fulfil them while still acting on the group’s own desires, fetishes, and kinks. A hard weekend in store but providing traces of exhilaration for this lowly submissive.
I was instructed to arrive in Vegas wearing only shorts, sandals and a tee-shirt, commando style. I need not bring anything else as I would be traveling home in the same clothes I wore in. Personal things like a toothbrush and paste, hairbrush, etc. would be provided. I was to bring my Meds, wallet, phone, and keys. Nothing more was needed. It was suggested that I prepare myself with a cleansing before traveling. I took the suggestion as a requirement and did, although I am not as skilled as Dr. D’s submissive who, to my complete degradation, had cleansed me twice each day on my previous visit.
It was nearly 8 pm Friday night when I landed in Las Vegas from my one-stop flight from North Carolina, I was to proceed to Terminal 1 passenger pick up area and to look for a black passenger style Mercedes-Benz Sprinter van. The sun had just set, and the remaining twilight was nearly gone.
The van pulled up as I approached the pickup point. This was a sleek black vehicle with clean lines and darkened windows that seem to wrap around the sides and back. I had a tinge of nervousness when the side door slid open as the van came to a stop in front of me. “Get in” I was commanded, which I did quickly.
I recognized Dr. D immediately. With him in the back was another man who I knew as one of the other masters who played with me on my last trip. I started to say a greeting when I was told “Remain silent.” The door was pulled closed behind me and the van pulled away from the curb. I was given my next instruction, that being “Take off your T-shirt.” This took me back a bit, but I followed the command. As I did, I tried to take in my surroundings while also trying to keep my balance in the moving vehicle.
The van was large with a high ceiling, like a Prime delivery vehicle, but the inside was finished like a travel coach, not a cargo van. There were finished walls and ceiling with low intensity blue LED accent lighting and quiet, nondescript background music playing. The floor had thick plush carpeting. I noticed a pass-through to the front driver’s compartment and I could see there was someone driving the van, but who it was I could not tell. In the back of the van there was nice chic seating, built-in cabinets and a table and other wall fixtures, but what caught my attention and focus was what was dead center in the van.
Rising from the floor was a padded metal fixture that was of an unusual shape. It looked somewhat like a pegging bench, but certainly not a traditional one. It had two tubular legs that were mounted to the floor that rose to a height of about three and one-half feet, where it met and held a leather padded platform set at an angle of about 30 degrees extending from the top of the legs toward the ceiling. The platform had leather straps dangling from it. At the top of the platform there was an elaborate neck cuff device that seemed obvious in its intent to hold someone’s head and neck in a secure position. Angling back down from the near top of the upper platform were two padded arms also equipped with straps that were unbuckled, ready to use.
Its use seemed clear and menacing knowing who was with me in the van. Its future client would be positioned standing behind the device, then leaned forward and strapped down onto the main platform, with his neck and head captured in the rig atop the stand and then his arms pulled downward and angled out below him to be buckled in place. It reminded me of a skier’s stance just as he takes off from a ski jump. A perfect design for someone to be positioned for anal and oral assaults. Exactly the kind of play my host enjoys.
And within seconds of my shirt coming off I was manhandled to the standing position, bent down and fastened in. Three leather straps held each of my wrists and arms to the downward platforms, two straps crossed my back and held my body to the main platform. Now with my upper body immobile, my sandals were taken off and my pants roughly pulled down and removed. I dared not kick as I knew the results would be brutal. I chose to remain docile as is called out in the contract when being restrained.
Cuffs were affixed to my ankles and attached to a spreader bar pulling my legs far apart. I then discovered that the vertical stanchions were adjustable as my captors crank the rig upward so that I was raised partially up onto my toes. My butt was at what seemed to be a very vulnerable pegging height. My head and neck were strapped in and that put my mouth at perfect waist height. With the van’s ample space and head height, I could be comfortably accessed at either end by whoever wanted to.
I never thought when coming on this trip that I would already be in bondage as I was leaving the airport. It felt like an abduction scenario. A common fantasy of those into BDSM. I’ll admit, at least for the moment, I am enjoying myself.
They got right to it. I heard the sounds of pants being unzipped and dropped. One of them moved to the front position, said “Open.” and when I open my mouth. A dental gag was inserted and ratcheted forcing my mouth wide. Simultaneously I felt the cold wet feeling of lube being smeared on my hole. Unceremoniously, a semi-rigid cock slid into my mouth as its brother’s rock-hard cock pushed hard through my tight and unhappy butthole. Within seconds they had a rhythm and were raping both of my holes. I tried to concentrate, especially on my mouth assault so I wouldn’t gag as well as perform well enough to not be disciplined, but I was in a van, rocking down the street.
I was in semi-shock. I was out in public. There were windows all around me. I could see the lights. I could see traffic. Could they see me? The windows were dark from the outside when the van approached, but I wasn’t looking hard to see inside it at that time. One thing I knew, strapped down as I was, I couldn’t flee or stop the violation of my body.
After a minute or two, I mentally settled down, realizing that we must not be able to be seen because these guys would be seen too. I know Las Vegas is a very progressive town, but public gang raping is still frowned upon. So, it must be that we can see out, but those passing by can’t see in. Or at least not easily.
So, I do my job as I was taught on my first two journeys out West. For those not aware or are confused, I am not gay. I do not like being fucked in the butt by men. I do not like sucking cock. I do not like the taste of cum, urine or other body fluids. What I like is being securely bound. Being bound and then being forced to do sexual things that I do not like and that I can’t stop. Being used and abused with no control over the situation. And being punished, both fairly and unfairly, for transgression I may have done or just because it pleasures the one who constrained me. Being violated by men is gross, degrading and does not stir arousal within me. This is why I am here. My bound and forced fantasies are being made real by Dr. D and his friends.
Life isn’t fair. What would excite and arouse me most is for me to be in the dominant role with my submissive being a beautiful, slender, small breasted woman who I could bind, punish and have sexual relations. My wife meets the description but has no regular interest or willingness to play. And I won’t have relations with other women. If I can’t be dominant over a woman, nearly as exciting would be for me to be in the position of the submissive to a female dominant of the same physical description. Again, my wife doesn’t want to play this way, and I won’t seek the services of another woman. So that puts me where I am now. Letting men bind me who fully enjoy using and abusing me with me unable to resist.
The chauffeur continued driving and the two Doms continued enjoying me. Although I am busy with my mouth working my tongue and stretched lips as best as I can to service the penis sliding in and out of it, I can somewhat see my passing surroundings as I have a little head movement. Most of the time I don’t see much because my head is being grasped by the master’s two hands to help him obtain maximum pleasure, but when he lets go of his grasp, I can see a little out of the side windows with my peripheral vision.
They have been doing me for about fifteen minutes when the master in front of me steps back to take a break from my sucking. With him stepped aside I am now able to better see both from the sides and straight forward through the windshield. “Oh my God!” I mumble to myself; we are traveling down Las Vegas Boulevard in front of all the casinos! In fact, I recognize where we are. We are currently stopped right in front of the fountains of the Bellagio Hotel and Casino.
My mind panics as I realize we are amid the traffic and crowds of famous Las Vegas as I am being fucked in the ass while tied down naked in a van in the middle of it all. I tense up. I’m anxious but I dare not say anything. Dr. D senses my change and simply says “Relax; this has got to be a fantasy hoot for you. If you don’t, I’ll open the door and share the view of you with the world. It would make some people’s vacation!”
I close my eyes and do what I can to relax my body. And he pounds away as the van again begins to move forward in the traffic. We drive to the end of the casino row, turn around and retrace back to the other end. There Dr. D retreats from my rear and moves to my mouth, removing the gag. “I’m going to let you taste how well you cleaned yourself out before you came,” he says casually. “Open, then use both your lips and tongue like I taught you to lick me clean.” After a few slow pushes in and out he rhetorically asks, knowing that with a cock in my mouth I cannot answer, “So how did you do?” But he already knows the answer and confirms it with, “You’ll want to get better at cleansing or learn to like your taste. Now finish up as I’m going to take over driving while I give someone else a chance at poking you.”
They pull onto a side street and change drivers. I shudder as the side door is slid open because I will become visible to the public. The bondage rack is right inside of the door. The exchange is made without notice. I see that the driver is also from the group of masters from my previous trip. This is the older gentleman. It is comforting that although I don’t know these guys by name, I have been used by them before and know that they are medically safe and will abide by the contract.
He takes up the butt position, adds a little new lube and begins to fuck me as Dr. D drives back down Las Vegas Blvd. The two masters in the back take turns plowing me. My mouth is left alone except upon each exchange where I am called upon to clean off the one who just finished. A mildly bitter, somewhat unpleasant taste lingers after each cleaning, a blend of the coconut lube being used and me. None of the three have cummed into me. They are well practiced at this and know how to get close without losing their load so that they can enjoy a long evening of arousal.
It’s interesting how each of them feels different. Not just in their size and length, which is in itself different, but in their fucking technique. How they thrust, move side to side, their pace, their depth, even how they use their hand on my butt as they push in and out. I was taught previously that a sub needs to learn how to be a good bottom for his master, so I attempted to do what I was trained.
I first concentrated on relaxing, controlling my breathing. I then try to tense up my sphincter muscle, then relax it, tense it up again and then relax. I bear down with my pelvis as I simultaneously try to relax my sphincter. I know this sounds complicated and it was for me. This squeeze-and-release effort seems to be helping, my abusers seem to be getting something from it, I try to get a rhythm, I bear down, try to find those muscles that I use during a bowel movement and use them for an alternative purpose, I concentrate on relaxing my butthole, then tense it. I want them to feel my pulses as they fuck me. As they thrust in, I push back at them with my secured legs as best I can.
I get comments, positive ones, as I keep switching the action. But I am still just a sub and there are no rewards, just the occasional hard smack on the side of my cheeks with an open hand as they thrust in and out. I’m there to serve and provide pleasure to them, not seek anything for myself. And the boys pound away, I am amazed at their stamina. My ass is getting sore.
Chapter 3: Twain Avenue Boys
After about the fifth or six trip down the Boulevard, Dr. D announces from the front that he’s headed for the Ranch on Twain Avenue. This means nothing to me. The boys retreat from my butt and they each get another cleaning before I hear and see them zip up. Dr. D is chatting on his cell with someone, but I can’t really hear the conversation. After a short drive we seemed to park.
The boys all get out of the van. As the side door opens, I again worry that I might be seen. The door is quickly closed upon their exit, and I find that I have been abandoned, still securely bound to this comfortable yet very unyielding fixture. I can clearly hear pedestrians and road traffic around my prison. Nothing to do but wait, listen, get anxious, and perspire. The van is not running so the air conditioning is off and it is warm outside.
Some time goes by, but not an excessive amount when the door opens, and I see Dr. D enter with what turns out to be three new friends. I have limited side sight because of the head restraint, but I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen these other guys before. There is general conversation, mostly comments about my predicament, my bonds, my looks, the setup of the van, but of the conversations I had, the words that I locked onto were. “So, as I said you have written permission to fuck the hell out of him, butt or mouth. I suggest his butt as he’s not that good yet at blow jobs, so he gags a lot. Only caveat is as I said, you got to wear rubbers in either hole. There are plenty on the table. Feel free to whip him too; floggers, paddles and riding crops are behind him on the wall, just no hits that will scar, leave lasting welts or break the skin.”
Oh man, what have I gotten myself into. Who are these guys? I don’t know them, there are three of them so that kind of rules out the two other masters in their fraternity group. I don’t have much time to ponder as I hear one of them unbuckling as he also rubs his hand up and down my butt and back. “You’re a sweet piece of meat aren’t you. This is going to be an adventure. I’ve played with bound boys before but never a straight one. I hear you have a nice tight ass. Let’s try it out.”
There is a short pause as he strokes himself to make himself hard, both for me and to allow himself to roll on a rubber. A little lube and in he comes. A new cock belonging to some unknown person is now thrusting into my butt. I am in a confused state at this point, so I am just a receiving vessel for his lustful thrusts. I am attempting none of my learned pleasure tricks. He does all the work but doesn’t seem to mind. His glides and speeds are set to pleasure himself, who he is ramming isn’t of concern. It’s clear also that he does not have a whole weekend planned with me, so trying to hold off is not an agenda item. His only objective is to use the tightness of my hole and his motions to overcome the dampening insulation effect caused by the condom to climax.
It takes a few minutes, but he gets there. I feel him tense up, push deep, collapse against my back, gasp and then thank me by my current name, recalling that Dr. D has been referring to me as ‘Cunt’. He rests within me for a moment, takes a couple more slow thrusts and withdrawals. I hear Dr. D call out from behind me, “Cunt, what do you say?” I’m taken back for a moment, then I say, “Thank you for fucking me?” To which Dr. D replies, “That’s better.” He follows up with three hard hits with a paddle to each of my butt cheeks, and the comment, “Next time you better not need prompting, these boys are providing you the gift of living your fantasy with you.”
Based on the ongoing chatter, the entire gang in the van seem to be mutual friends or at least well-known acquaintances. Dr. D offers them beers from what must be a built-in refrigerator which they partake in. I hear the distinct sound of twist-off caps. There is no sex occurring between them, simply the three guests each taking a turn doing me.
The second up says he likes how my cheeks have been made red by the swats just taken by Dr. D I can’t see behind me, but it quickly becomes obvious what Dr. D meant when he answers with “Here, go at it.” My butt cheeks are again swatted by a paddle, first lightly, but then with more vigorous strokes encouraged by Dr. D and the others. I am not happy; the blows are making me lurch forward even though I am held fast to the rack. It stings, bad. I squirm but I can’t avoid the strikes, this bondage frame has been well designed.
“That was a first for me. You say he craves this? Why would anybody want this? He’s a sick puppy. But you know I did start to get into smacking his butt and seeing him jump, maybe I am the sick one. You’ve trained him well; he didn’t cry out even once.” My paddler must have missed my grimacing face and me sucking air. I’m tough, but his hits hurt.
Now with a beet red ass, he got to what he came for, my hole. With a little more care than the first raper, he penetrated me slowly and with finesse. He took his time, had his fun and eventually cummed into the rubber that separated him from me. I was quick to reply when he withdrew, “Thank you Sir for paddling my butt and fucking me.” This guy must have worked at Chick-Fil-A when he was younger as I got a “It was my pleasure” as a reply.
Before the third took his turn, the second master traveling with us decided he needed some oral attention, so while the casual conversation and beer consumption continued behind me, I had my mouth put to use. It was at least a familiar penis that I knew was safe. That was important, as this master was not using any protection. This was permitted in the contract because of his known health record. I did my best to please him and he did his best not to thrust too deeply and cause me to gag. It was helpful that he had a moderate size dick, not an overbearing member. I brought him close, or more likely his actions did, but he withdrew before climaxing, again saving himself for the rest of the evening.
The third guest is reminded why he is here, and he gleefully gets up and starts to rub my back. “Can I finger him first?”
“Yeah, sure, just put on a latex surgical glove.” And now with a gloved hand, he begins to digitally fondle me. I am being fingered by a pro, and he really seemed to get his rocks off doing it. I assumed these guys were all gay and his expertise concreted down that belief. He was either Gay or a Urologist. He definitely has had his fingers in a butt before. The teasing of my prostate is both simultaneously uncomfortable and pleasurable. There is pain mixed with bliss. But what it feels like matters not, as I could not stop it from happening, short of an event ending safe word call out. I was nowhere being pushed to that kind of limit.
After he tired of fingering me and was getting ready to penetrate me instead with his cock, Dr. D said, “Hold on, let me raise him up for you.” This guy must have been tall. So, the rack to which I was fastened was cranked up lifting my feet a few inches off the ground placing my hole at the same level as his friend’s cock. No guest should be uncomfortable when he is fucking a bound submissive. And the next round of a protected cock attack of my butthole begins.
Of note, he was both wider and longer than all that have penetrated me so far this evening. He was also wearing what feels like a ribbed rubber as there is some roughness I can feel as he slides in and out stimulating the sensitive nerves lining my rectum walls. He works harder and faster than the first two and reaches climax sooner too. Although he is done, he stays within me, pulling out just enough to give him space to message and squeeze my ass cheeks which still has lingering soreness from the previous paddling. Apparently, my reaction caused me to clench his shrinking member, extending his pleasure.
He is still resting within me when I hear tapping on the side door. Someone, without hesitation, opens the door. I feel the cooler air rush in, but the shivers I am feeling are from me being keenly aware that I am naked, bound, and with a man’s cock in my butt visible to anyone walking by. “Hey Jack, where have you been? Hop in.”
“Is there room?”
“Sure, it’s a little tight, but we can make room.”
“Wow. I love the setup. So, who is this, he’s not your mate.”
“No, he’s a straight sub I leased from a friend from California. I have him for the weekend to do with what I want.”
“And you want me to fuck him?”
“Actually, it’s his kink to be bound like this so he can’t resist and then be abused by people he doesn’t know. That’s you. You can fuck him, make him suck you, whip him, shock him, pretty much anything your little heart desires you can do to him. You don’t have to ask, just go pleasure yourself.” This isn’t a speech I want to hear. I do have hard limits.
The one that had been fucking me is still in me, even though he is spent. “Looks like he is busy in the back, I’ll take the front.”
“FYI, you’ll need to wear a condom.”
“Figures, straight guys. I’m clean, but I don’t mind.” The guy behind me, stays in me but is now giving me a back rub as he gently begins to slide in and out of me with a semi-rigid cock, maybe trying to see if he has another load in him. A covered dick is rubbed against my lips, and I open.
The rubber provides a slick interesting feeling on the lips and tongue. It’s the first time I have had a rubber in my mouth that I can recall. It has a taste, a flavored taste. Banana? A flavored condom. I perform, but not with over-the-top enthusiasm. What’s been happening to me is exciting because of the unknown participants who I am sure will be people who will never interact with me again. But still, this is disconcerting, dangerous, and the acts I am performing still provide me with no sexual gratification. It just fulfills the force fantasy. I likely blow him for a little over five minutes when my butt playmate gives up and I become available in the rear. The new guy moves from my mouth to my butt.
As he takes his position and Dr. D cranks me back down again, two of the other three visitors give their thanks to Dr. D and exit, exposing me again for the moment to the outside world. I am re-lubed and fucked. This goes on for a while as the five men still within the van, including my current abuser, are having ongoing conversations on all sorts of topics. I am almost just a side show for the moment, although the thrusts in and out of me remain steady.
“Think he would enjoy the bottle?” asks one other lads who has just taken a last swig of his beer.
“Go for it” is the reply from Dr. D. The bottle is handed off the guy behind me and I am fucked with it. A different set of sensations. The insertion is first felt by the abrupt flatness of the bottle opening followed immediately by the ridges of the glass twist threads. It’s then onto the bottle’s neck that grows wider as it is pushed in until it quickly swells to form the main body.
He is not a prick and only pushes and reverses each time he hits that point. The bottle is slick and cold. He doesn’t just thrust in and out but spins it and sometimes twists it side to side and up and down. He is having fun. Occasionally, he’ll thrust it in a little deeper just to see my bucking reaction as the expansion is met with a shot of pain. He doesn’t go too far.
Eventually he bores with the bottle and returns his full attention to what he came for and was doing before the suggestion, a free ass fucking. He remains creative and finishes with great flair with fast, deep pounding littered with verbal derogatory comments directed at me. When he withdrawals he complains that he hates pulling off ‘dirty’ condoms. So, Dr. D directs him to have me clean it off before he pulls it off. “Oh, I like that idea,” he utters. He moves around to my face and must command me to open my mouth as I am hesitant.
My slowness was apparently noted by Dr. D as I feel his wrath against my hanging balls as they are hit with a riding crop multiple times. I take into my mouth the now flaccid dick and provide the repugnant service. I am no longer amused by its once banana flavor; that is being overpowered by the taste of coconut lube and maybe a little bitter to me. The latter is maybe just psychological. It is difficult to perform this duty this time because the condom is now loose on a flaccid dick and I’m afraid of pulling it off and exposing me to his fluids. He doesn’t stay long, I think it was almost just a show, and not really in his nature.
It appears I am done for this stop. The remaining boys continue to chat for about fifteen minutes before the last two depart, pausing for what I consider way too long with the side-door way open as they give their final goodbyes and thanks to Dr. D for the fun, unusual evening. Nothing was said to me.
Chapter 4: Next Stop, East Flamingo, More Friends
One of the masters gets back into the driver’s seat and we pull away. Dr. D is back on his cell again, talking quietly. He then calls out to the driver “Donnie is at the Garage on East Flamingo. He and his buddies are out on the terrace, we’ll meet them there. So, who is Donnie? What is the Garage? And what is going to happen to me next since obviously we are not heading to Dr. D’s home.
It’s not a long ride, but during the trip Dr. D wipes my butt crack down with some antiseptic wipes and does the same with my face. A straw is put to my lips, and I am told to drink. The water is refreshing and helps clear the stagnant sex taste in my mouth. He then takes a hold of my dick and pushes it into what I guess is a plastic urinal and tells me to pee. I do all I can to obey his command as I still vividly recall the severe punishment I suffered through last time I was called upon to pee and didn’t. It will remain a hard lesson learned to be remembered forever.
He then shows me a trash basket with four used condoms in it and states “We’re a long way from filling this up, you’ve got work ahead of you.” Not comforting words. “I’ll be saving then. Disappoint any of my friends and you’ll be sucking the cum out of them.” Even less comforting words. He seems to be doing some housekeeping. Straightening up after his guests’ departure. Acting out such a gay stereotype.
We arrived at our destination. They find a parking spot on the street. The van is shut down and the three get out of the van, again exposing me as two of them exit via the side sliding door. Dr. D says “We’ll be back in a bit, don’t fret, you’re on camera connected to my cell phone” as he nonchalantly slides the door closed. The mood lighting is still on, but the music is off. And here I stay bound tight to my frame. I’m starting to ache from being held this way for so long. My butt feels tender too, it hasn’t had any abuse since the last time I was in Vegas. I’ve only been here a few hours, maybe a little more, and I have already had seven cocks and a beer bottle screwing my hole, if my count is right.
I have no idea how long I was left, probably less than an hour, but it seems like forever. All there is for me to do is to listen to the pedestrians that pass by the van and road traffic whose headlights illuminate my space as they drive by. I continue to hope no one can see in. I start to doze off.
I am startled awake by the side door opening. A crowd gets in, they are all in a festive mood. And to my concern, they are overly loud about describing what they see as they climb in. All of Vegas could hear them. “So, we can do pretty much anything we want as long as we wear rubbers, right?” I heard uttered. My mind questions why I have placed myself in this stupid predicament.
While it seems like some of the boys settle in the back of the van, two get right to it. I hear and somewhat see them unzipping their pants, tearing open condom packages and positioning themselves, one in front and one behind. Both need to stroke themselves to get hard, but that doesn’t take long. I’m penetrated, first from behind. He’s not so big and I’m thankful. He starts doing his thing, but I quickly forget about him and what’s happening from behind as the guy in front is now pushing into my mouth.
He is long, very long, not big in circumference, but long. And he is pushing all the way in. I gag immediately. He doesn’t seem to mind and keeps thrusting in and out. Unconsciously I bite down, he pulls out and he smacks my face hard. “The bitch bit me!” Dr. D says, “Hold on; I’ll fix it.”
My peripheral vision sees him coming by me, telling me to open and he ratchets my jaw open with a Jennings dental gag. “Just don’t make him puke, I don’t want that mess in my van. Let me put a towel down, he’s drooling” And for the next five minutes this new friend shoves his dick in and out of my mouth and I do all I can to take it as there is no choice; slobbering profusely over his cock as I gag and choke, trying all the tricks I know to overcome and accept this invasion.
To add to my torment, he keeps scooping up saliva flowing down and smears my face with it covering my eyes and nose with the disgusting mess. Twice he squeezes my nose close so I can’t use it to breathe, adding to his joy as this makes my throat tighten around his cock as I struggle to get a breath.
Eventually, the two mercifully decide to switch, ending the current oral abuse. While I didn’t really want the dick that had just been pounding my hole in my mouth, it was much smaller, so I was better off. He also didn’t go deep. It didn’t take long for the dick now assaulting my butt to shoot his load and he pulled out quickly, thanking Dr. D for providing a fun crescendo for his Friday evening.
The guy using my mouth returned to his original back position, and within three or four minutes also shot his load. These guys indicated as soon as they were done that it was late and needed to head out; again, thanking their host for the invite. In a nearly unintelligible voice, I meekly thanked them as required through my still propped open mouth.
I hear the others, who are mostly behind me and out of view repositioning and getting themselves ready. Expecting a cock to be entering me shortly, I am startled when instead I am flogged on my bag and butt. After about six or seven swats, a hand reaches under me and starts to fondle and message my sack and cock. It’s the first positive sexual stimulation of the night. The pain of the hits subsides as I concentrate on the hand actions.
Very nice, until he starts stretching my balls further down than nature intended. I feel tightness squeezing the strained upper sack as a leather ball stretcher is snapped around it. My now compacted balls are assaulted with a flogger making my body jump and strain against the leather straps that hold me. This attention ends and is replaced with another ass fucking. As he pounds me, I feel his balls bounce against my restrained ball sack. He didn’t last long. I recall his parting comment, “You said he’s had eight dicks tonight already, yet he is still tight as can be, I got to find more straight guys wanting to be fuck, their great.” I’m so proud.
Turns out that in addition to the three Dominants that made up the original party, four more guys had come out with them at this stop. So, there should be another yet to service. He dropped his drawers, got behind me and added a large glob of lube to my hole. It was for good reason. This cock was wide. It turns out it wasn’t that long, but it had a mighty girth.
My hole is not happy as he pushes his erect shaft in. It was the first time I had true pain when being fucked on this trip, even more than my adventure with the beer bottle. It was a sustained aching type of discomfort that lasted for at least the first three or more minutes of his pounding. He was enjoying my tightness as shown with his grunting and groaning as he thrusted in and out making the most of his hip movements to add a rotation to the drives.
I was thankful to feel him finally let go and then extract himself. It was not without a momentary scare. Because of his girt, the rubber was pulled off when he withdrew. With its open end outside of me, he was able to grab it and yanked it out. So, it still did its job, and I was left clean and safe.
I was pleased that all these guys were wearing rubbers. Of course, much of this comfort was from the relief I felt related to the health reasons, but also because I felt clean inside. A load of cum in the butt isn’t the best of sensations. I did not feel nearly as degraded as I did when I was filled with cum time and time again the last time I was here. I had both unprotected and covered dicks tonight and no one had yet deposited semen in me.
With the last two guys done with me, I listened to them socialize a little with the hosts before they departed. When they left, they again gave their gratitude to Dr. D. One also began to thank me, but Dr. D corrected him, stating it was the ‘cunt’ who owed them the thanks. Hearing this I quickly then spoke out one last time through the gag “Thank you Sirs for using me!” hoping to avoid punishment.
Chapter 5: One Last Stop on the Road Trip
We are off again. Dr. D is yet again cleaning me off with antiseptic wipes, leaving the ball strap in place but removing the gag, giving me a drink, collecting my pee and straightening up the van. Are we not going to the house yet? I ponder to myself. This is not at all what I expected. On the other hand, being bound and then sexually assaulted by people I can’t stop and don’t know is exactly the substance of my primary fantasy. Dr. D knows it. He’s giving me exactly what I asked for in a unique and creative way, still I’m unsettled about it as it plays out.
Again, a quiet phone call, a short drive and we arrived. From what I can see looking out the front windshield we have left the business districts of Vegas, and we are now in a residential area. We pulled into a driveway and stopped. The boys open the side door, and Dr. D steps out, leaving the door open. He’s gone a few minutes and returns with a friend. As she climbs in, she says “Hi Sweety, it’s so good to see you again. Looks like you’ve got yourself in another fix.”
I immediately recognize her as the trans Dominant ‘Mistress’ that teased, abused and fucked me the last time I was here. She caused me the most mental angst on that trip as she, while packing a penis, is a beautiful and sexy dominant vixen that excited me and therefore threatened my line on sexually interacting with women. I wasn’t expecting her to be here. “Dr. D said you couldn’t wait to suck my cock, and I can’t wait to fuck that tight ass of yours” she remarked in her very high sexy voice.
“Oh, look there, isn’t your ball sack all cute and sexy with its little leather strap. It makes your jewels look so delicious. Now, let’s get you ready.” And she begins to flog me. My back, my sides, my thighs, my butt and then my balls, especially my balls and penis. She is skilled and so I received my first real sustained whipping torment session of the night. The flogging goes on for a long eight to ten minutes as she verbally teases me while she moves about. And then she is in front of me. “Open, Sweety and show how you love my cock,” she enthusiastically states.
In she goes and she is not covered. She wasn’t the last time either. She is on Dr. D’s health approval list. Someone that he knows through both the circle of people they play with and actual medical testing, are known to be reasonably safe to have unprotected sex. In case you didn’t read my last journal, Dr. D is a real MD. It is one of the reasons I ‘trust’ him, he does keep me medically safe.
I attempt my best efforts of this evening to suck her. She’s been good to me in the past. Not having my hands of course makes me less effective, but I use my tongue, lips and what little head movement I have. She does her part too, slowly moving her rigid dick in and out while moving my head with her hands. Her moans indicate we are making a good team. Already I start having troubling thoughts as this is arousing me sexually and I know it’s because she is as close to interacting with a woman who is not my wife, maybe too close, as I can get. I know she is a male, that there is a real functioning penis between her legs, but… She takes her time and enjoys the moment. When she has as much gratification she can handle without cumming, she extracts herself and then moves to my butt.
“OK Sweety, I know this is why you flew all the way out here. You wanted me to fuck your bound tight little hole. I’m going to make love to it like no one else can.” She starts with a gentle finger penetration. With ample lube I am digitally violated for a good five minutes. My prostate was massaged. From it, I could feel my own cock grow. As said, she is good at her craft. And as my cock grows so does my guilt. She reaches under with her free hand and provides an awesome hand job of my now erect cock.
She is now done with her hand work. With her erect penis, she drives its full length into me in one swift motion. She reached far under me seeking out my nipples which are pressed against the platform on which my stomach and chest are bound. She wiggles her small hands in and squeezes my nipples as she establishes a slow but steady rhythm of thrusts into my rectum. She takes her time, taking full advantage of my undefendable availability. And I do my part, pushing back, squeezing my rectal muscles and then relaxing. All that I was taught.
I have described her in my previous writing. As I have alluded to, she is hot. Dress as a Dominant Mistress in black leather, she is the spitting image of the character Tiffany Chester, also a dominatrix on the cable TV series ‘Bonding’, played by Zoe Levin, who is a 5’5” slender, champagne glass busted, very attractive actress. They could be twins.
And excitingly, just my type. Without the penis, it would almost be impossible to distinguish her from a woman. And I am racked with guilt and deserving of punishment as I participate more than ‘just taking it’. I know Dr. D is watching. I know he set it up. I know I am being turned on. I know this is his devious plan. I know he will get his kicks punishing me for it, knowing that I will accept that it is justified. He’s the devil at times. BDSM is his thing, pushing subs to their limits is his pleasure and specialty.
She must have fucked me for a good thirty minutes. I have no idea how she can last that long, I surely can’t. She seemed to have enjoyed it all and was not simply roleplaying with me. What I know is she coated my insides with a large load of cum. I no longer have a cream free hole. “You do your best to keep me inside you all night, it will make you sleep better knowing I am still with you,” she says as she withdraws. Knowing it is there will help support the guilt, not make me sleep better.
She spends a few minutes gently rubbing my back and butt as she casually chats with the boys. Eventually, the chatting comes to an end, she comes to my face and tenderly kisses my cheek and departs.
Chapter 6: Finally, Heading to the Dungeon
This time Dr. D gets up front to drive, and the two other masters remain in the back with me. “Before we head to the house and get you settled in, I think we should all take one more turn with you. You owe us, don’t you think? Of course, what I love most about this is what you think doesn’t matter Cunt, we are going to take you regardless,” laughs Dr. D from the front as he pulls out of the driveway of the Mistress’s home.
He means what he said that they all love this, and they do take advantage of my current predicament. I can see while looking forward that we are back in the commercial district driving down the still busy Las Vegas Boulevard. Truly Las Vegas never sleeps. And as they say, all kinds of crazy things happen in Vegas.
For instance, there is a straight naked man strapped down tight to an inventive device, in a van being driven in traffic past brightly lit after brightly lit casino, who is being sodomized by a skilled gay Dominant determined to satisfy his cock with no regard to the feelings of the hole he is plundering, and no one in the crowds we pass is aware or cares. It’s a full trip down the main drag and back, stopping at numerous red traffic lights before he has enjoyed himself enough to pop his load within me. His cum now co-mingling with the Mistress’s.
It is such an odd feeling being fucked this way. It is not the bounds or inability to resist, I am used to that now. It’s the odd feeling of having it done in a moving vehicle where you can feel the road vibrations, the bumps in the road, the stopping for lights and reacceleration when they turn green. Seeing the bright lights from the passing traffic and casinos spilling into the van. Hearing so clearly the voices of people in the crowds, especially as we sit at traffic signals, knowing they are close enough they can touch the van, yet oblivious to the fact that I am here being buggered just feet away from them. Exhilarating yet disconcerting at the same time. I’m confused as I am loving this and yet wanting it to end.
“Take us through Old Town as I do him,” suggests the other master whose turn is next. This area of Vegas is home to the older and smaller casinos. The streets are narrower, and I can see the faces of pedestrians clearly as I look forward, seeing out the front windshield. I’m sure some of them must be able to see us, although from their view they wouldn’t be able to make out what was happening inside, I hope. I’m not sure, but we seem to be traveling much slower now, like we are trying to be noticed. My anxiety is on the rise.
On the other hand, though, I am much more comfortable with the two masters who are now doing me. While I don’t know their true identities, they are familiar abusers from my past. They have previously proven to not cause me real lasting harm. I feel safe in them using me. It doesn’t mean they are treating me better. That is now being demonstrated as this one’s first actions are with the riding crop, whipping my butt, bag and cock saying he hates getting sloppy seconds and that I better pinch my hole tight while he does me.
Of course, I had no control of the order of who was using me. Nor control over how he releases his frustration, real or contrived, on my body. I’m being taught this is the expectation of a BDSM submissive, yielding to the emotions and pleasures of the Dominant.
He ends my punishment and penetrates me with his ample cock, adding no additional lube. He is one of the more endowed members of the troupe. That combination makes the first few thrusts rough until the cum within me lubes him up. I do squeeze and push back with my butt, then relaxing and tightening, if for no other reason, to keep me out of additional trouble and retribution.
He takes his time; he has plenty as it is a bit of a drive out of the city to Dr. D’s home. He is just finishing up depositing his cum in me as we turn in the driveway. “You both done with him?” calls out Dr. D as he parks the van outside the garage. I guess it is too tall to fit inside.
He gets out, opens the side door and says, “Plug him first, I don’t want him dripping on my floors. And put him in the small metal chastity cage sitting on the shelf, then let him up.” One of them pushes a large traditional butt plug into my sore hole, twisting it in without any mercy, which when the plug’s greatest girth swells my rectum before it closes around its base, I audibly cry out in pain. My cock and balls are then iced, shrinking me quickly which was the intent so they could secure them in the cock cage. I will not be able to grow an erection or otherwise play with my privates now.
The two of them then begin to uncuff my legs and unstrap my arms and back. As I am pulled up and off there is a great sense of relief as my limbs ache from being held for such a long time. “Let him stretch his arms and legs for a minute, then put him in these with his hands in front.” A set of jet-black steel neck, wrist and leg irons are handed to them. I spent considerable time wearing them on my last trip. I was never free of some kind of bounds before, and I suspect that will be true again.
Secured by the chains interconnected with my locked neck, wrist and ankle cuffs, we all marched into the house, me in a shuffle stride inhibited by the shortness of the leg chains. As we move through the house, Dr. D tells the other to go shower up while he puts me to bed. He’ll meet them for a nightcap after they are done. The group separates and the two of us proceed to the dungeon.
“Interesting night, wasn’t it?” Dr. D states rhetorically as we move along. “I’m delighted you are officially mine for the weekend and that I can share you as I like with my fellow Doms and friends. Breaking in a new sub is always stimulating for me. I think it will be a fulfilling and fun weekend for all of us. I remind you that the guys coming tomorrow are all of the Doms from our little fraternity. And everyone will be here to get their kicks.
You have been part of many conversations amongst us since your last visit. This is no longer about your needs; it’s now about satisfying ours. Each of us is in long-term relationships with our own submissives. And our subs understand and accept this is a partner free weekend where the Doms will be using and abusing a straight submissive that poses no threat to their relationships. Things we may want or like to do but can’t with our own subs, we may do to you as long as it is on the glorious and extensive activities list found in the contract.
Of course, our interpretation of what many of the activities imply may be different than yours. This could make for quite a fun time for us, for you, maybe not so much. You wanted real, you’re going to get real. I hope you fully understood what real BDSM is when you agreed and signed… Oh, relax Cunt, relax, I’m just trying to get you fidgety for tomorrow. I see I have succeeded.” My body language must have been speaking loudly even though I had been silent while listening.
Chapter 7: Dominant’s Good Night Pleasure
We enter the dungeon through its heavy steel door, descend the stairs and proceed through the bar gate. He turns on the lights and soft music. I scanned the room; it is all the grandeur that I remembered from before. He then provides me with the evening’s final instructions, “Tonight, you’ll stay in your irons, but you can sleep on the bondage bed.
In the morning, the lights will automatically turn on and the videos will shut down. That will be your cue to get up and prepare yourself for me. You’ll pay hell if you oversleep. There is a laptop next to the bed. The password is ‘Cunt’. How appropriate don’t you think? Write your journal entries and then do your morning preparations.”
“One last duty before you head to bed, I want to be serviced. I want a blow job, and I want your best efforts. I let you have your hands in front, so you can do me right. Get on your knees. This is the traditional subservient position, when in doubt go to it, learn to love it. Now open my pants, drop them and get to it.”
I do exactly as I was told. It’s a little awkward as my hands are somewhat restricted by the cuffs and chains, but I unbuckle his belt, undo the pants button and pull down his zipper. As efficiently as I can I maneuver his shorts from over butt and down his legs to his sandals. I slip my fingers under the band of his underwear and pull them over his semi-erect member and drop them down his thighs to his ankles. Dr. D spreads his legs, restricted by his dropped pants, and I then take one hand to cup his balls as I use the other to grasp his shaft gently and pull it forward.
I wrap my lips over my teeth and move my open mouth slowly towards his shaft. I take just a portion of it in to start, applying soft pressure with my tongue against his penis head as I move my mouth up and down the shaft. He begins to grow.
I am still a newbie at giving forced blow jobs. Although this is an unpleasant task, I try hard to remember all that I have been taught, what I know I enjoy when my wife gives me a BJ and the tips I have read about online.
Knowing I’d be punished if I didn’t do a good job when I came back to Vegas, I researched a little on the internet of men sucking men. My plan is to combine all of my efforts. I am also going to try to show some enthusiasm as I do it, but this is not sexually erotic to me. Not at all. To aid my efforts, I’ll concentrate on pretending that this is a pussy I’m licking and on me doing the skills correctly. Thinking about being in these chains and the penalty for poor performance will help too.
I continue to focus most of my tongue work on the head of his penis and on the frenulum, that sensitive band of skin on the underside of the penis head. (Dr. D likes medical terms and had me add such terminology here.) I continue to grip the lower shaft with my hand and take short strokes to stimulate the base as I switch my tongue to make light licks to the top of his penis head using a slow circular motion.
Still holding the shaft base, I switch to moving more deeply up and down his penis with my mouth, keeping my lips tightly around it with my tongue now pressing against the bottom of the shaft. I make sure my natural lube amply covers his cock. I find a rhythm that seems to get a positive reaction, and I let my tongue, lips and hand continue to do their magic on his dick while my second hand moves to massage his testicles. “Ahhhhhh yes, oh you’re a good cunt,” indicates I’m getting the hang of this.
I then decide to try some controlled deep throating, figuring that if I do it, he won’t take over on his own and shove too deep and gag me. I try to take all of him in. My plan is to try to count to ten while I hold my breath, arch my neck and think through the gag reflex, before pulling back again, catching both my breath and swallowing. It seems to work. His reactions are positive, apparently this is a turn-on for him.
He has been relatively quiet since I started, offering no instruction or commands, but he has become rock hard and is swaying and pulsing his hips which to me are indicators that I’m doing good. I move my hand from his balls and start running my index finger up and down his crack, feeling for the button. I don’t plan on any penetration, but I know when I push on my wife’s rose bud as I lick her, she gets extra excited. The sooner he gets aroused, the sooner I will be done with this.
As I try to make him go quickly, Dr. D is trying to hold off, but I can feel that he is nearing his end. I am sure he wants me to take all of what he is about to expel and swallow it. He is now gripping my head and pulling me tighter to him, so it seems he wants to be in deep when he shoots his load. My penalty for somewhat deep throating him. I have been doing ok controlling my gag reflex while he thrusts in and while it is not something I want to do I am resigned to the fact that I am about to learn how to handle semen ejaculated deeper in my mouth than ever before.
I start to look up trying to catch his eyes, they are closed as he begins to tense up, but for a moment he opens his and he looks down, sees me gazing respectfully up at him as I take him on, and he smiles approvingly. He shuts them again, grabs my head even tighter to him and ejaculates in multiple pulses a huge load of cum that he has been building all day during his time of dominating his new submissive.
Swallowing spurting cum from a sizable cock that is deep in one’s mouth is not easy, but I try my best to not gag or pull back against his still firm, unrelenting grasp. Despite my best attempts I still struggle to swallow down what has been injected deep in my now choking, pulsing throat. He shrinks slowly and as he slowly loosens his grip a bit, he begins to rock his cock forward and back in my mouth. I keep my lips tight on his shaft and gain control of my reflexes.
He keeps his dick in me until he is almost flaccid which feels like an eternity. Then he finally releases my head and withdraws, and says, “Yes, Cunt, you are learning. You’ve been a good sub all evening. I’m getting my dollars’ worth. But don’t get too confident, there is lots in store for you tomorrow. And while you just did great, you owe me a horse ride for getting excited by Mistress tonight. I’m your Master, not her. Now milk my cock, stroke me and suck my slit till my last bit of seed is out, I know there are still a few drops left for you. I want them on your tongue to remember what I made you do all night., then clean me up and redress me.”
I do, and he is right, there are two or three large thick drops that I glumly coax out of his softened member. I begin to feel weird. Strangely it is not holding his dick in my hand as I lick it clean and dry, or the cream on my tongue or down my throat, but it’s redressing him. Not sure why getting his flaccid cock back within his drawers and adjusting it so he is comfortable, then pulling up his pants and zipping them up made me feel that way, but it was weird. Maybe it’s because it is so mundane, not sexual, but something that in my normal world isn’t done between two men. Straight men don’t handle other men’s junk.
Finished, he points to the bed, and I head there as he turns and leaves. On his way out he turns on the large TV monitors that are on each wall of the dungeon, playing the collection of violent BDSM films that had been put together for me on my last trip. He cranks up the volume, shuts off the lights and leaves.
I hear the locking of the steel door, and I am alone. I know the safe escape route from my previous stay, so I am not concerned. I do need to pee; I check and see that a plastic urinal has been left for me next to the bed, and I use it, piddling through the slit in the end of my cock cage. I then climb up onto this impressive bondage bed, pleased that I am on the mattress and not in the cage underneath as I was subjected to on my last trip.
There are no blankets or pillows. I try to fall asleep, but I am distracted by the vivid videos playing a combination of bound and abused women which excites me. They are intermixed with ones of bound men being torture and used that were filmed in this very room. Disturbingly, many of the recordings are clearly of me. My first thought, is this collage of videos, many featuring me, shown to others being bound and used in this room? Seeing my own abuse again and again on oversized screens, I find myself questioning what the hell I’m doing here again.
For a while I couldn’t help watching even though I have copies of the ones featuring me at home, previously provided by Dr. D. I just lay there unable to sleep, dwelling on what was done to me already today and what may be planned for me. For some reason, at the moment, the beer bottle fuck is bothering me. That was degrading, made me feel non-human. A pure fuck toy for their amusement and nothing else. (I would get over this feeling and now find it one of my more enjoyable memories as it is exactly what my fantasies want me to be.)
I give up on sleeping for the moment and decide to get a head start on my journal and capture the evening's events before making a second attempt at falling asleep. Back from writing and laying there again, I still have the aftertaste of cum residue in my mouth and throat plus the three loads of cum held fast in my butt with a plug that I dare not try to remove. My eyes are fixed on graphic torture films of me that are still up on the screens. I am dead tired, but restless too. Eventually, thankfully I drifted off only to dream about the possible realities coming for me in the morning.
Chapter 8: Abbreviated morning routine.
I am not in a deep sleep when the lights come on and the room goes silent, so I wake up as required without issue. However, on my last visit Dr. D’s partner and submissive managed and completed my morning routine. I was now on my own, restricted by my irons and not overly familiar with the facilities. I add a few notes and revisions to my journal and get started on my tasks. I knew I was to shower and cleanse myself and that would happen in the Wet Room (a full description of this room can be found in my last journal).
I shuffle over to and enter. First up would be to try to attend to my business. I knew where the steel commode was located, and I went there first. Stretching hard in a semi squat position I was barely able to reach between my legs and remove the plug still lodged in my ass. It is not clean, so I rinse it in the toilet so that I won’t dirty the floor when I sit it down and go, first peeing through my cage and then having success in clearing my bowels of both the cum left there and me. I flush, pick up my plug and waddle over to the douching racks.
I won’t be secured and cleansed by others this time; I was on my own. It took a little exploration, but I figured out how to turn on one of the wand hoses and get it to a usable position without making a colossal mess. With squatting and stretching my irons to their limits, it takes a few attempts to get the nozzle inserted into my rectum and flushed myself out. I sure wish I had had some lube to make it more tolerable. I perform three cycles and believe I am running clear when I stop. If it wasn’t good enough, I know I’ll suffer in many ways.
Cleaning up is next, disgusting, but vitally important to my future wellbeing. If I leave the once pristine floors in any less than the condition I found them, I will suffer greatly without a doubt. With effort I get it done. It is then onto my own shower, complicated again by the irons I wear. Hot water is not offered, and I am shivering by the time I am done. I look for towels, but the ones provided are on shelves out of the reach of my restrained arms. I will need to drip dry.
I do my best to wipe any excess water from me with my hands, but I am still wet. I see at the sink there is a small tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush. I can complete that task using it to distract my mind from my dripping cold body. As I make a final inspection of the Wet Room to assure I have left it in good order, I see the plug and take it to the sink to give it a better washing. Done, I’m not sure what to do with it and decide maybe I better put it back where I found it. That would be back in my butthole.
Inserting a large, un-lubed butt plug in oneself when bound in irons is a challenge. I use my own saliva to provide what lude I can to both the plug and my hole. It probably took a good, painful, ten minutes to accomplish. I was mostly dry at that point, certainly not dripping, so I left the wet room and proceeded to the center of the dungeon where the center hoist hangs from the ceiling. This seems to be the common starting place for play here. As no one is yet in the dungeon, but knowing I am on camera and viewable by my Dominant, I take my submissive position on my knees there and wait.
Chapter 9: Two New Unnamed Masters to Serve
It’s not long before Dr. D enters the dungeon along with two others. I don’t recognize either and rightfully assume they are the two masters that make up the rest of the fraternity. All three are dressed in similar but different leather attire, primarily leather pants and vests, one sporting a leather cap to complete his ensemble. All have either open or easy access to their genitals and exposed chests. Probably hot looking if you were from the gay BDSM world.
To me, it is a little challenging. Both gents seem to be in their early to mid-forties. The first is over six feet tall, 200 pounds, solid and well built. Hairy chest. Very masculine. Scary in his leather outfit. The other, a little shorter, maybe five-nine or ten. Of Asian ancestry. Pleasant looking chap.
“Looks like he’s already trained, down on his knees, his sissy dick locked away, waiting to serve us. Nice” says the first more masculine master. “Well not perfect, he surveyed us and looked us all in the eyes as we approached, which is not acceptable,” Dr. D states and then redirects to me, “Cunt a submissive should always drop his eyes when a Dominant approaches. Understand?”
“Yes, Dr. D, no disrespect intended, it won’t happen again, Sir.” My comments are more roleplaying and self-preservation than anything else.
“The others will be in to play a little later. This is a meet and greet so these two masters can get familiar with you, your holes, and your potential. We’ll warm up on one of the benches, come on, let’s go,” directs Dr. D. I am moved over to one of the three pegging benches, my irons removed, and I am strapped down tight to the apparatus.
The hairy master wastes no time. He begins simply with a request to have me sponge gagged. That is placing a large piece of heavy duty all-purpose commercial cleaning sponge into my mouth and then securing it in place with packing tape wrapped multiple times around my face and head, sealing it in place. It is an extremely effective gag making me practically mute. Breathing is limited to my nose.
Chapter 10: Stretching a Contract and Sub to their Limits
As this is completed, he is gently rubbing my back, sides, butt and legs as if he was familiarizing himself with me. At the same time, he is having a conversation with Dr. D which goes like this, “So fisting is on the ‘hard list’ but ‘anal play’ is on the acceptable list. Well, I guess I’ll just have to make sure when my hand goes all the way up that tight ass that I don’t fist up, I wouldn’t want to cross his silly rules. That’s what you want, right, my arm up his ass?”
The question being directed to Dr. D and not me. “I’ll just flex my wrist and fingers instead of making a fist while I play; his fullness will be the same. Probably worse, more uncomfortable, but the choice was his. He really has no idea what half of the ideas on his list really were all about, did he? Oh look, he’s tensed up and has goose bumps, precisely why I wanted him gagged. I can tell he wants to argue and object.”
My mind is spinning over what I have just heard. One thought of many flooding in was that I recall that while he was tall, solid and masculine, his package was just average. If the old wives’ tale holds true, that means his hands are average size too. I hope so or this could be brutal. Other thoughts deal with my frustration that I am being exploited on a contract technicality. You can sense their enjoyment of having the upper hand with me, figuratively and soon to be literally. They have thoroughly formulated and planned out the details for this episode; the gag, bench, straps, my position, the loophole found are all circumstantial evidence. There is more to come.
I hear the sound of latex gloves being put on, followed by my crack being smeared with lube. A second glob is then inserted into my hole. Now anxious and tense, I am instructed to “Relax, you are going to enjoy this. It’s my sub’s favorite.” For my own benefit, I try to relax with minimal success.
He starts very slowly and gently with one gloved finger, sliding fully in and out. He slightly changes its orientation each time he enters, sometimes twisting, sometimes bending his digit. I find that I am holding my breath. He tells me again to “Relax, this is only my finger. I heard that last night you took on all kinds of cocks, each one of them bigger than what is in you now. You need to do rhythmic breathing to get pain/pleasure from this. Otherwise, it will be a pain-only experience.” I try harder to relax and focus on other thoughts.
The master moves onto two finger penetration and in time to three, telling me as he proceeds, not that I could stop him. I have had three fingers up my butt before, and this causes no special distress. He is also an expert at this, and he is stretching me gradually, so I don’t feel any over the top discomfort.
Initially, it was the same when he moved onto four fingers, but as he pushed his fingers deeper, we reached the point where the knuckles at the base of his wrist expanded and that is where my hole spasmed in pain. He backed off, added more lube and then pushed back in again. Nothing overly forced, he worked my butt with different hand flexes and twists. Finally with more pain and stress than I liked and even a little bucking against the bench, my hole took his upper knuckles. He only was able to push in a short distance further when his thumb, still outside, bottomed out at my crack.
He let his hand just rest for a few moments as my rectum came to terms with the intrusion and pains, which subsided after a few moments passed. I describe this as unpleasant, a bad but bearable feeling. Also, as being one of ‘total fullness’, of being internally stretched, an unwanted violation that you can’t expel but my rectal muscles try anyway.
I could feel my body struggling to handle it, pushing at it like a hard bowel movement having no success. I get a little diversion first as he jiggles my caged cock with his other hand. Once more, I got the coaching to relax and to concentrate on visualizing what was happening. The graphic advice helped. This game is as mental as it is physical.
After a minute or two, he starts manipulating his fingers, spreading them, twisting them, usually individually, sometimes in groups. It causes interesting sensations on the rectum walls, certainly a feeling I am not accustomed to. He concentrates on the area I guess where the prostate can be messaged. This causes some stirring in my loins, reminding me I am still caged as blood tries to expand my trapped penis.
This stimulation goes on for about five minutes, when he begins to carefully and slowly withdraw his hand from me. The passing of his knuckles causes as much grief coming out as going in. “Usually, on a first session I end there with my new subs. With you, though, we won’t have a second chance, so I’m going to give you a few minutes to recover and then you are going to take it all, don’t worry, Cunt, I won’t make a fist and violate your contract. I am surprised at how well you stretch, you’re nowhere close to tearing.”
His second assault is just as slow and careful as his first except he has switched from his right to his left hand. Different this time is when he starts with his thumb instead of using his finger. And with it he can do more acrobatic moves in my hole. The change is amusing and reinforces my own realization that I am now well stretched. As such, working up to four fingers goes quicker.
When we hit that point, I felt his thumb being added to the mix, which as he forces it forward with a new coating of lube expands my hole wider than ever before as it allows his entire cupped hand to move in. Easy at first as with all five digits grouped and pressed together, their girth is not excessive down at the tips. As he pushes forward the hand grows wide in girth regardless of how tightly closed he keeps it.
He uses his free hand to gently massage and rub the tight stretched surface muscles around my bulging anus containing his fingers and thumb. Never becoming impatient with me, he takes the time. Using years of expertise, plenty of added lube, and a variety of hand movements and flexes to stretch my anatomy, he manipulates my rectum to the point where my hole finally expands enough to let his wrist pass by and his hand slip entirely within me and closes behind, just as a butt plug expands your rectum as it enters then closes around its neck.
Initially sharp, harsh glaring pain follows that makes tears well up and me suck air rapidly in and out through my nose, making me nearly hyperventilate. But it subsides in short order to simply a strong, hard ache, but none-the-less, an ache that I can handle. A little more than the pain/pleasure I enjoy, but we will get there. He lets me rest, giving my body time to adjust and accept.
Then it’s back to playing with his fingers. Praise is given by both Dr. D and my tormentor. And I appreciate more what my wife endured in childbirth. I hear “get some still shots to go along with the video, he’ll want them as keepsakes, maybe something to be framed on his office desk.”
He plays for a bit; it almost feels like he is drawing pictures with his fingers. There is also some thumb and finger manipulations and finger drumming in his repertoire. I admit it stimulates me, and I have that euphoric feeling I get when I am bound and abused against my will. I concentrate on the visual in my mind of what one would see from behind me. I’ll get to see it for myself later. I feel so full and stretched, it is like he is all the way up to his elbow. He is not.
All good things and thankfully bad things must eventually come to an end, he extracts himself, which ends up being nearly as painful coming out as going in. He had been pumping his arm in and out as part of his playing in me but had not pulled back far enough in any rotation that the widest part of his hand would stretch my entry excessively like it did going in the first time. It will now that he is exiting. He is not abrupt. With his loose hand adding more lube and again massaging the outer surface keeping the skin from tearing, he gently twists and flexes his forearm and hand easing the withdrawal.
He leaves me. The pain while substantial subsides quicker than I would have thought. While I know I am empty, I feel like my hole is still open. Almost like a breeze is coming into me. It must be because I hear, “Don’t worry it will close back up, tight before long.”
BDSM Dominants are by nature aggressive abusers but are also considerate and loving to their submissives. Damp, warm towels are laid down my crack providing a needed calming sensation. My butt cheeks and anal rim are gently massaged. It feels good.
A vibrator on a low setting is used as an aid. After a few minutes the warm towels are transitioned to cooler ones and then finally to ice wrapped in cloth, all applied to help shrink back down my stretched-out canal. They let me know, however, that this is for their benefit, not mine. They want me tight again for later fucking. Nonetheless, I enjoy the comforting attention.
Another first. Fisted by another name. The photos prove Interesting, but I don’t see what the big turn on is for either participant. To each his own, I guess.
Chapter 11: Stick in a Dick
I am unstrapped from the bench, gag removed, cuff from behind with standard handcuffs and moved over to the horizontal St Andrews Cross. The walk was very odd and awkward as my butt certainly had not fully recovered and still felt wide open. At the cross I am securely fastened to it with leather straps that cross my ankles, just below my knees, across my thighs, my hips, my stomach, across my lower and upper chest, over my neck, and across the bridge of my nose; all buckled tight. I cannot move. The cross sits on five legs, supporting the center and one on each of the extensions. It holds me flat at about a height of four feet.
It is now time to learn the skills of the second new master. He gets right to it. His attention is directed to my dick. He uses the key to unlock the cage and removes it. I enjoy my freedom. I’m placid, but not for long as he begins to fondle, stroke, and massage me. He has gentle, wonderful soft yet strong hands. It feels so nice.
I push against my restraints, but not in pain, but to add to my quickly rising exhilaration. I like being bound. He works me for a few minutes when he wraps his hand around my shaft, pumps it a few times and then with his other hand pushes something into the tip of my slit. There is a sensation of something cold being squeezed down my urethra. I recognize it from a memory of San Diego. My tube is being lubed. It’s a weird sensation, one of being stopped up.
My dick is grasped again, and I know what’s coming. A sounding. This will be my second time. I’m a little excited, my first experience was positive. While my binds keep me from watching, I can feel a rod being inserted into my tip, in a kind of slow darting action. Slowly inserted for about three quarters of an inch and then withdrawn. Then in again and withdrawn. I’m being sized. This goes on for a few minutes as he determines what rod he will fully run down my pee tube. As the fondling has momentarily stopped, I am only semi-solid. This will soon change.
I am now being well lubed on the outside with a pleasant cream and my balls and cock again messaged. Ahhhhh, wonderful. Servitude isn’t supposed to feel this good. And while his one hand works me, I feel his other hand at my dick head again. I know what’s coming. My slit is being spread open, and I sense a rod is being inserted. This time it is being pushed slightly harder, I feel like I am opening up, my slit feels forced yet accepting, if that makes any sense, then there’s withdrawal. More fondling and then a push again.
I don’t know how to resist or push it back; not sure I want to. No pain, it’s just a nice crazy sensation, pleasurable but in a weird way. I can tell whatever is going into my dick is being pushed very slowly. It’s then pulled back, but not out, then slowly forward again. My dick feels like it is getting hard, one hand seems to be pushing and pulling what feels like a hard smooth stick into me while the other glides over and around my dick and balls.
Extra lotion is applied to my balls, it’s cold, tingling and slippery, allowing effortless movement over them and my member. Heaven. Ohhhhhhhh. I even feel my previously wide-open butthole puckering up. And the stick slides back out a little, then moves forward deeper. I can’t judge the distance. Amazed there is no pain, no burning. Feels maybe a little itchy, maybe not. And I can’t move, I am completely immobile, I’m consciously straining at my bonds, I want to see, I can’t. All I can do is concentrate on the feelings. I love this.
I have an intruder in me, but the mind and body both seem to be OK with it, inviting the violation. Still a feeling of coldness, not sure if the stick is cold or I’m just shivering down there from the actions taking place. No, sounds are typically surgical steel, that must be why it’s cold. Whatever, while it feels strange, it’s good, I’m having a combined feeling of anxiousness and joy. Just like I did last time. Stroking my dick and balls adds to the current bound jubilation. Further in, and further in. With every gain a little retreat, then a march forward. The stimulation is amazing. Further in it travels, goodness, how long is this thing? I think it has journeyed longer than the length of my dick.
I have so little experience with sounding, just once before. It’s mainly putting a stick in your dick. The ones I see online look like elegant, sometimes straight, sometimes slightly curved, rounded piece of steel with a small tapering bulge at the insertion end. Some have bumps, the one in me doesn’t feel like it has them. Don’t know if this one is straight or curved. I remember from online sex toy advertisements that they come in kits and are about five to seven inches long and with different thicknesses. Well, I know I’m not seven inches long so that thing must be headed inside of me, not sure where it will end. Still no pain. I seem to be accepting it. My dick seems to be getting more and more erect.
It then feels like the palm of the hand that is pushing the sound is cupping around my dick head gently tapping on the sound. It must be all the way in. Still no pain. Still feels funny, exhilarating. Must be a little sticking out as I feel what seems like a finger and a thumb resting on my dick head and jiggling the rod ever so slightly up and down my tube. That causes even wilder sensations. My breath is taken away as a vibrater has been added to the mix. It is resting on the head of my dick pressing against the sound, I’m being vibrated all the way down to my balls from the inside while being masturbated outside by a wizard.
I feel like I have only been this hard once before and that was the last time I experienced a sounding. I don’t understand why men don’t do this all the time, it’s incredible. I must get the wife to do this, it should be just as great even if I am not tied down, I hope. The intensity of both the inside and outside actions are more than my body can handle. I beg to be allowed to cum.
OOOOOOhhhh, the answer to my plea is someone flogging my inner-thighs. The pain/pleasure is making my whole-body tremble then spasm. He quickens his tempo, and my cock tries to shoot its load, my body is uncontrollably climaxing, but true ejaculation is being denied as the rod is being held firmly in me as it is vibrated and allows nothing to pass. It’s a feeling and result I can’t begin to describe. It was one of the strongest orgasms I have ever experienced yet it was all internal. Can cum back up into testicles?
And as my body just shakes in its bonds, he abruptly stops along with the flogging, withdraws the rod and leaves me. I feel my once rock-hard dick shrink down, spent and free now to dribble out its once contained ejaculation. A mix of relief, frustration and disappointment. The euphoria is rapidly fading.
Chapter 12: Recoup Time on the Medieval Wall
I am left on the flat-cross for a short while, then my straps are released, I am pulled off and supported as my still weakened body struggles to support itself. Watery semen running down my bare leg. My hands are cuffed behind my back while I am told that the others will all be arriving within the next hour and the group is going to enjoy a light brunch before coming in to play with me again. In the meantime, while they dined and socialized, I was to be detained via wall irons in the dungeon’s cell.
The back corner of the dungeon was made into a replica of a medieval prison cell with the back and side wall being floor to ceiling stone masonry. It then had bars of flat iron on the remaining two sides to create a twelve-by-five-foot cell. The bars were of a grid design and were finished to give the impression of being hand-hammer when made. The cell was about twelve feet tall and had the top enclosed with the same type of bar grid.
The cell had a locking door with similar design and materials. Fixed into the rear wall’s stone mortar were two full sets of irons so that two captives could be secured to the wall by the neck, wrists, waist, and ankles by heavy steel cuffs/bands and short chains. Intimidating. I know just how intimidating, as I was secured and abused here on my last visit.
I am now imprisoned. The shackles are cold black steel, at least an inch and a half wide and a quarter inch thick. They feel heavy because they are. They have pin style hinges and are locked closed with screw down omega loops. Each ring is fastened to the stone wall with thick black steel chains.
First to be placed was the neck collar, followed by the wrists, legs and finally the waist. These were punishing, unyielding and for some reason made me become more aware of my nakedness. The chains allowed for some although limited movement. I was upright and would not be able to change that position. The sound of the cell door being closed and locked is ominous just like last time.
I stood there, using the rough stone wall to help support my still recovering body. In time even using the wall as support would become tiring and uncomfortable. I was left alone with my thoughts and unlike last time, I was alone in the dungeon. There was nothing to watch, even the video screens were dark and silent.
Time moved slowly. The position was certainly bearable, but still unpleasant. I wonder just how long it would take to mentally destroy someone in medieval times when they were left like this for days, weeks, maybe years. I am sure I’ve been here for well less than an hour and it is already wearing on me. I even yearn for some punishment as a diversion, though I dread the thought of what was done to me last time, the chemical assault on my scrotum with Atomic Balm that burned and burned. Today I would be left to entertain myself through contemplation of my weekend foolishness.
Toward the end my legs would tire to the point where my neck and arm irons would be holding much of my weight. As I said, it was unpleasant. Not sure if the guests were running late or if it was a leisurely lunch, or what, but my anticipated wall time of an hour ran much longer.
Chapter 13: Putting a Female into Play
My prison time has ended. Out of the shackles and into handcuffs, I am moved to the middle of the dungeon, where eight chairs are now arranged in a semi-circle just in front of the central ceiling cable hoist. My handcuffs were removed, and I am placed on my back flat on the floor underneath the hoist cable.
The dungeon floor is outfitted throughout with flush hold-down attachment anchors. There are numerous ones in this general area to augment various restraint arrangements used in combination with the hoist. My wrists and ankles are fitted with leather cuffs and a leather collar is put around my neck. All are secured to the anchors so that my arms are perpendicular to my body and my legs are spread about twelve inches apart.
I am then fitted with a toy. Specifically, an electro cock head collar with a urethral insert. “Remember this?” one of the masters asks me rhetorically. I was tortured with it on my last visit, and tortured is the correct description.
This toy is made of silicone, metal and plastic. It has an adjustable noose-style plastic loop that encircles the head of the penis and secures at the bottom to hold it in place. Connected to this loop at the top and bottom is another plastic loop arranged to go over the urethra slit. There are three small gold conductive balls threaded onto this loop, the middle one having about a one and one-half inch long insertable urethra pin.
They squirt Surgilube into my urethra and then carefully, but with full intention of seating it in me, slide the pin down my pipe so it completely disappears except for the three gold balls that are now pressed up against the slit and penis head. The adjustable noose around my head is then snugged up. I know from experience that this is not going to fall off and that the shocks I’m likely to endure could be arousing but could also be intense and painful. They finish off my prep by adding a ring gag, holding my mouth open wide and placing a rolled-up towel under my neck for support.
Dr. D then addresses me. “A good friend of mine who is a straight dominant uses my playroom on occasion for his own flavor of BDSM pleasure. He has asked for my help in providing a lesson to his disobedient submissive. Since you confess to watching porn of women being bound and abused, it seems that you should be okay with watching it in person. Okay or not, they are here, and you are going to watch it up close and personal.”
A moment later approaching me I see a man pulling a woman behind him on a leash. The leash is attached to her leather hood and collar. It is a full head discipline hood, laced up tight from behind and equipped with a heavy leather strap around the neck. The hood accepts a snap-on gag and blindfold. The gag is in place, but the blindfold is not.
As a sub, she is appropriately looking down at the floor so I can see her apprehensive, embarrassed eyes within the hood as she sees me lying naked and secured to the floor. She walks awkwardly in her six-inch stiletto thigh high black leather boots. Her under bust corset squeezes her petit lower body to an amazingly narrow width and pushes up and out her exposed two small but perfect breasts. Her breasts have erect nipples sporting horseshoe barbell piercings. Her arms are behind her tightly secured together in a full-length leather arm binder with straps that encircle her shoulders and are buckled in the front.
Other than her bondage restraints, corset, hood, and boots she is naked, meaning the parts that would excite me are naked, her pussy, ass and tits. A slender and trim body. Attractive, at least the parts not covered in black leather are gorgeous. This will be a problem for me, it’s the kind of girl that arouses me. And she is bound, oh wow!
No time is wasted. They position her so she is straddling over my head. They pull her legs wide, place them in black leather ankle cuffs pulled and secured to the same hold-downs that my wrists are attached to. They attach the end tip of her arm binder to the hoist clasp and raise the cable so that she is forced into a bent over position with her pussy directly over my face and her face aligned with my electrified cock.
My gaze up sees a perfectly symmetrical, pink, beautiful, shaved pussy and tight little butt hole. Her supple and inviting pussy lips look moist already. I know my description seems like contrived, fictional writing, but this was so memorable that I can still vividly recall every explicit detail. My face glows with a smile and my growing cock is immediately whipped with a riding crop as I am told, “No!”
Their next preparation is tying a thin leather cord to each of her nipple piercings. Attached to each are copper weights, each sporting a connecting wire. I can’t see well, but they appear to set the copper weights into two copper tube assemblies that stand upright on a mounted base that they have placed between my legs. Not sure what this will do, but I don’t feel good about it. I find out immediately when they test it.
Any sway of the nipple cords causes the copper weights to touch the inside of the copper tubes, momentarily completing an electrical circuit the electrifies my cock insertion. I buck upward as the first shock hits. They make some adjustments, toning it down to a more manageable pain/pleasure setting, thank goodness.
While still mildly concerned about my penis, my real wonder, no, make that worry, is that they are pushing the line too far between voyeur and participant. My attention is then diverted to something new; they place sandbags against the sides of my head, pressing against my ears. Duct tape is added that crosses my forehead and is secured to the bags. I have now lost my ability to turn, lift or move my head.
Still, from my vantage point, even with my neck and head immobile, I can still clearly see her privates and her face with my eye movements. She does not look happy as she knows she has two holes between her legs fully displayed and vulnerable. I don’t know if she is aware or not of what is to be done to her but it likely will not be good for her in this position.
I hear general chatter and movement of chairs and thus assume the boys have taken seats in the semi-circle to watch the event. In an address from her Master to the assembled cast, it is told that what has brought her here today is that she had apparently rebuffed her Dominant’s specific desire for sex earlier in the week. He wanted a quick fuck before heading out for the evening. She wanted only to suck him, allowing her to keep her vagina clean and not weep into her new panties while they were out.
Now, to remind her that a sub is to do what pleases the master and not what pleases her, he tells her of her fate. “My good friends assembled here are going to enjoy watching me whip you with a single tail until you are so striped that you will glow for a week. Then I am going to fuck that ‘clean’ cunt of yours long and hard and fill it with my cum till it is dripping out.”
“When I am done, with my permission each of the other boys will then fuck and fill you. You thought you’d feel wet and dirty with my cum in you last week, let’s see how you feel when you’ve been soiled by eight loaded cocks. You better have been taking your birth control pills, knowing how much jizz will be swimming inside you, you filthy cum slut whore.”
I was later told that the panties in question are part of her current gag. Also, he was using his gay buddy and his gay friends to penetrate her so he wouldn’t have any jealousy or remorse from having his girl done by other men.
I ponder on the scene developing around me. I hope she has fantasies about being bound and fuck by other men because otherwise this could be overly intense for her. She can’t stop it; she is bound and completely accessible. I then consider the irony that she is about to have her pussy ravage by eight menacing cocks, but seven of them would likely rather be fucking me than her. I hope they can all perform; I’m excited I get to watch.
Chapter 14: Pussy Whipped and Fucked BDSM Style
This straight Dom is proficient with his whip. He puts bright red strips about one half inch apart across both her butt cheeks, from top to bottom, then continuing down her hind legs to the back of her knees. I lose count of how many lashes she received before he switches to upper swings that land squarely about her vulva region, stripping crimson her perfectly symmetrical and once pink outer and inner labia lips. Even her clitoris and anus have been reddened. Her screams and pleas were successfully muffled by her gag, but her tears ran freely, and her body quivered. And as each swing hits, she flinches, which swings her titties and shocks my cock.
He then unbuttons his vest, drops his leather pants and jock, releasing his impressive cock. He steps up to her, stroking himself till he is hard and then proceeds to fuck her pussy with unabashed wild pounding. It was a harsh fuck. Her hole took it all, but her expression indicated she was receiving no pleasure from it.
As I watch the amazing show above me, I continued to get frequent shocks throughout the fucking. Although a rigorous pace was used, he took a significant time to bring himself to climax and finally filled her with his load. As he ejaculates, I receive a nasty unexpected hard shock, causing my whole body to jerk. The masters must have an override on the electric controls. Her Dom pulls back out and walks away leaving her there to stand over me hanging from her wrists.
It takes a couple of minutes but thanks to gravity, the cum just deposited begins to ooze out of her pussy lips. I watch in awe as the first drop begins to form between her inner and outer inflamed labia when it finally dawns on the real purpose of my position, the sandbags, tape, and the ring gag. Her pussy is directly above my open mouth. The first droplet falls and is right on target, landing on my tongue. Five of these slow-forming drops in time do fall, three landing in my mouth, one on my chin, the other on my cheek.
As she regains some calmness, Dr. D steps up in front of her, he too like his predecessor is stroking his dick to make it hard. He makes sure she gets a good look at his large erect member. She knows what is coming. She is not happy, and it shows in her eyes. His return expression is one of ‘tough shit, cunt, this is going to happen’. He moves behind her with purpose and penetrates her, raping her as requested by her Dominant. There is nothing she can do to stop the unwanted assault.
I start to worry that as a gay man this may be a sexual challenge for him and will be for the rest of the assembled group. They will have to concentrate on the wonderful feelings her vagina causes as their cocks slide in and out of her to bring them to climax as the act of being with a woman doesn’t by itself stimulate them. I figure too that the boys being into BDSM, will have to use her BDSM predicament and bounds to help arouse them. My concerns will be for naught, as they all get the job done with little effort.
Dr. D gives her a good fuck, holding her body as he does and ejaculates in her as she whimpers into her gag. Her eyes fixed on mine, pleading with them for rescue that I cannot provide. And when it is obvious that Master is climaxing, I am again shocked hard, annoyingly different from the milder dick zaps each time his thrust causes her boobs to sway. Punished for his organism. To her dismay he stays in her for a bit, rocking back and forth, while holding her body tight, then withdraws and leaves without saying or doing anything more.
Again a few minutes pass before the cum in her pussy starts to drip from her to me. I can tell she knows what is happening, she must feel the flow and she appears ashamed and embarrassed. Me, I am both feeling gross and mentally frustrated as I feel this is too close to crossing my line. Taking fluids from her pussy is not voyeurism. But it’s not engaging in sex with her either.
On the other hand, this is so thrilling that I know there is no gay in me despite who and how I have serviced others this weekend. I love seeing this woman being fucked, and I love that she is bound and that she is hot. The boys still do not provide such arousal in me.
It is now her third round; this Dom’s dick is ready as he approaches her and like her previous suiters, makes sure she sees his meat before heading for her pussy. He does her with flair and effectiveness. Her eyes are teary. I feel for her, yet I know she is in a willing dominant/submissive relationship and wants to please her master. But pleasing him is sometimes tough on her, like today. She does not call out safe words. She is allowing this. Just like my situation.
Master Number Three seems to enjoy his time with her, keeping his thrusts steady, gliding past her clinging and very wet lips time and time again. He changes his pace and angle and soon he collapses against her, clearly enjoying the result. His cream fills her. He too stays a while. He reaches under her and caresses her boobs and nipples, much to her chagrin, shocking my cock for nearly a minute.
When he pulls out, he pumps out a few more drips, rubbing them against the outside of her tired cunt lips and they glisten. While these drops stick to her, with three loads left in her vagina, the dripping from within comes quicker and in larger drips. Bigger drops seem to more accurately hit their mark, that being mostly within my mouth and not on my face.
Master Four and Master Five both do their thing too, although their cocks are quite different, with one being uncircumcised, the other quite wide in girth, and both men having vastly different fucking styles. When she was shown their dicks prior to being penetrated her eyes registered no glee, but instead the look of repulsion. These cocks are not to her liking, she loves her Master’s cock. She is being tested. I can tell it’s hard on her and she is near her limit. She looks so violated and helpless. This has been going on for a long time now. It doesn’t matter; her cunt will take them on none-the-less.
It is getting more difficult for me too. It is probably my imagination but the shocks at each Dom’s climax seem to be getting stronger. The flows are larger and more repulsive, even now dripping as she is being fucked. But what is happening to the sub above me is an amazing fantasy of mine coming true, only in the fantasy I’m the dominant getting his kicks with her. This is so much better than watching a video online. My cock grows, which is noticed by my captors, and it is shocked hard into submission.
The Sixth in line is the trash talking Dom that on the last trip ended up endearing himself to me. He starts in on her with trash-talking verbal abuse in the same way he did me. He dishes her body, her vulnerability, her transgressions, her sexual perversions of loving all these cocks, etc. He is very descriptive in what he is about to do to her with ‘his magnificent member’. His boasts are not far from the truth, it is an excellent specimen.
You can instantly tell that she is not used to the oral assaults and word teasing he is performing, and it traumatizes her more than anything else so far. He is actually a decent guy and when he sees via her body language and weeping that it is really bothering her, he backs off and redirects his comments to me. I’m okay with it as it was the right and caring thing to do. That’s why I like this master. These guys are not savages. He knew she had another cock after his to suffer through and didn’t want to destroy her.
It turns out to be two more dicks, as her master did her a second time to finish her. This time her Dom was loving, kind and tender in this round fucking her vagina and it made a major difference that I saw in her eyes. She loves him.
As more and more boys did her, the more cum and her natural lubrication came to me. It was more than just a coating of my tongue; it required me to swallow to clear it. I wouldn’t dare attempt to spit it out. But swallowing is hard when flat on one’s back with a ring gag in. The real trial came when they were done fucking her.
When they were all finished with her, she remained over me for a while, slowly oozing. Then, startling both of us, her master came back and inserted into her vaginal a shiny metal speculum. With it, he spreads her vagina open just a bit, but enough that the medical device will stay inserted and enough that I can clearly see an open hole and in it the remaining mess of many men.
He then takes a corded Magic Wand Massager and begins to vibrate her pussy at an intense speed, pressing it tight against her swollen vulva as he holds the speculum in place with his other hand. Her already sensitized cunt responds immediately, tensing up and trying to avoid the overpowering vibrations. He shows no mercy and holds the vibrater tight against her shaking body with one obvious result being the excessive accumulation of cum and pussy juices flow freely from her to me.
As I try hard to move my neck and head to avoid it, I am mercilessly shocked, stopping my efforts. My concentration now is trying to accommodate the thick, frothy globs coming at me rapidly and swallowing what I can. Nine ejaculations make for a large amount of semen. It’s not like her vulva can drink it. Well, maybe the sperm that are swimming upstream.
He is relentless in his application of the wand, and she has orgasm after orgasm, causing her legs to buckle and hang solely from her arms. The change of body position leads to me being coated across my face all the way to my ears as well as my mouth. It was difficult and gross, but watching her grind and spasm is so exhilarating and absorbing that I handle it without thinking.
She was made to suffer from the over stimulation of her lovely pussy for a long time. After her Dom was satisfied that she had paid her penance, learned a lesson, and emptied her vagina of its accumulated cum, she was released from the cable and walked away. I remained tied to the floor. I later learned she was taken to the Clean Room, released from her restraints and submissive garments, showered, douched and then with her Master enjoyed time together as a couple on the terrace and in the pool where her subservient role for the time would be more to her liking, at least for a little while.
I would receive no such respite.
Chapter 15: Afternoon Rope Lessons
Not all the activities I was slated for this weekend were overly abusive or sexually deviant. This session was at times physically stressful but for the most part just interesting and amusing, especially to a bondage enthusiast like me. Well, that was until the last set of ties. I’ll elaborate.
I was informed that one of the masters is known for his rope tying expertise. As part of this weekend, he was going to run a class on common and rigorous male bondage rope ties for the other six Doms. I would be the subject to be tied in his demonstrations. They were also going to video the work so they could later use it for training tutorials. This filming was not videoed from the dungeon’s security cameras used to record the normal day’s activities.
I’m not sure if they were just cell-phone cameras or actual handheld video cameras, but the quality was much higher, the views were tighter and there was sound. Copies of the raw footage were given to me. It is only because of these recordings that I can begin to provide the details of this particular session. The bindings had many intricate steps, there was significant conversation intermixed with questions asked and answered, and I was blindfolded.
At the time it was happening I was not aware of the filming and its primary purpose. When I found out I was concerned and objected. I was worried that they were going to be shared and viewed by others besides Dr. D and his partner and me. The contract restricted sharing photos and videos to protect my anonymity. However, after viewing the results and discussions with Dr. D, I became okay with it.
They had outfitted me with a full heavy leather hood with a blindfold and mouth gag that covered my face and head to the bottom of my neck. I have no identifiable markings like tattoos or birthmarks on my body. No one, likely even my wife, could know it was me. I was promised the circle that would see and use the videos would be very small and trusted. The videos would not appear online.
From watching the videos and listening to the master instructor I learned that his ties would be Western rope style bondage, whatever that is. He would be using three different kinds of rope, mostly hemp. Also, he’d use some nylon, cotton and cords. The cotton rope and cords would mainly be used in the various ties he demonstrated on my penis and ball sack.
I was set up, kneeling in my submissive position, fully masked and now unsecured, on a large, cushioned mat located under the center ceiling hoist. In the beginning, he spoke to the assembled group about the different kinds of ropes, male tolerances to certain ties compared to women (men have difficulty with certain arm ties behind their back), safety, sexual access, and effectiveness versus appearance. This was a real class and like other education lectures had its boring parts. Throughout it though, I was simply the object being tied and not a student.
He then started his first tie. He called it the ‘Crab’. He indicated that this position is to make the victim completely vulnerable in a sexy way. After laying me on the floor, he bent one of my legs so he could lash my ankle and thigh together with what he called an easy-release two column tie. He repeated the process with the other leg. He finished by tying my wrists to my ankles.
He boasted that this was a quick tie that was both simple and elegant. It is also greatly restrictive while allowing the opening and closing of the legs. This gives the Dom complete access to the sub’s body. And he proved it by rolling my around so he could fuck my annus from two different positions and then commented that if my mouth wasn’t gaged, he could do it too. I was not expecting the dick penetrations, but neither lasted more than four or five thrusts. He was hard and I wasn’t lubed. I was glad he wasn’t one of the larger fellows.
I was untied and he moved into his next tie, that being the ‘Mark’. I was placed on my back with my legs open. My arms were then put under my knees with my hands outside my ankles in such a way that he bound my wrists to my ankles. In this position I was again at the mercy of anything he wishes to do to me sexually or via his whip. In this demo he swung his flogger with hits to my fully exposed genitals, chest and thighs. Being blindfolded, I was unaware of the incoming first strike and thus was startled when my sack was stung with sharp pain which is obvious in the video.
Next up was the ‘Ebi’ bondage position which by his own description was a pretty tricky pose and can be very uncomfortable. Something for advanced players. I’m not sure if they considered me a beginner or advanced but I was going to be put into this tie regardless. In this posture, my hands are tied behind my back. Then, the same rope is used to tie my arms around my body. While a section passes just below my chest and across my lower arms, the other section passes just above my chest and across my upper arms. I would think this would be especially hot to see on a woman with it capturing her breasts.
After he is done with the hands, he proceeds to tie my legs. I’m ordered to cross my legs together and he ties them together just above my ankles. Then, he passes the rope along to my neck keeping it taught. He gets the rope around my neck and secures it. I am uncomfortable in this pose. Nonetheless, it seems like a very exciting way to be restrained.
That is till he explains to the group that regardless of one’s efforts to minimize the pain, the Ebi bondage position gets more agonizingly painful every minute and hour, so it’s best to discuss a timeframe for the exercise before embarking on it. Alternatively, they are advised to get the rope off their partner’s neck once they signal that they can no longer continue in that position. I am not given that option and for the demonstration I am left tied for a good fifteen minutes or more as they have other discussions. He wasn’t kidding, you could feel the distress build as time moved on. I never did get to true suffering as they had a few more ties to accomplish and a schedule to keep.
They got to see a rope corset, a rope spreader bar, a Bulldog harness, a Diamond body harness and a Chest/Arm harness. Some of the harnesses were well suited to suspend the tied object. In those cases, they attached me to the winch and took me up off my feet. They used these harnesses in combination with other ties that would leave me hanging, exposed, and vulnerable.
They never let such openness go without some type of matched penetration. He also talked about Reverse Pray and Hammerlock ties but didn’t demonstrate them as they are very severe on men. Women can withstand it but even for them it is a harsh set of ties. Some of the masters kidded that since I was a rented Cunt he should still show them, but he declined. Bless him.
His last full body ties ended with a discussion and demonstration of the difference between the Hog-tie and Frog-tie positions in a compare and contrast type dialog. The Frog-tie proved to provide much better access to the victim for sexual use as the legs can be open and closed while still tightly bound. Even I liked that tie more. I’m not sure which master got to penetrate me in the demo, but I know it wasn’t the instructor. This one at least used a dab of lube.
One of the features he seems to have special delight in was that in these ties you could add a neck binding and tilt the victim up on his knees and hold him upright by suspending him by the neck lashing to a ceiling rope which he did to me. I wasn’t being hung, simply balanced. Bearable for a while with discomfort on the knees more than the neck or torso. Good thing because I was to stay in this position for the next few demos.
Chapter 16: The Cock and Ball Ties
They ended the rope tutorial with various cock and ball bondage. This type of BDSM penis play involves tying up the man parts for visual effects, to restrict blood flow to the penis and to simply torture the most sensitive part of the body. One of the effects of a good tie is you can't have an erection, and your scrotum will likely be stretched, making it more sensitive to every touch, lick and squeeze. With a tied cock, your erection and orgasm are in the hands of the Dom. Because of this I was both excited and frightened of what was coming.
The instructor discussed that different forms of penis and ball bondage require different types of rope. Depending on how masochistic you are and how sadistic your Dom is, you could choose thinner ropes that’ll “bite” more into your jewels or thicker ones that will “grab” your skin more. Some options for binding include nylon, cotton or hemp ropes, parachute cord, long shoelaces or twine that’s used to tie up the meat.
He called his first tie the ‘Basic Cock and Ball Tie’. He said this and most ties start with a simple overhand knot around cock and balls. With me still frog tied on my knees, held by my neck, he tied the thin cord around my cock and behind my balls so that the ends face downwards away from the balls, then tied an overhand knot and tightened it. He then pulled up the strings and made another overhand knot so that it’s wrapped around the balls and tightened the knot.
Next, he wrapped both testicles, starting by wrapping a string around the right testicle followed by the other. With both testicles now protruding separately in the ball sack, he made an overhand knot to secure my nuts. He then made another overhand knot to fix the testicles and pull the strings up.
He finished with a bowtie. I am glad I have the videos otherwise I would never have been able to get these details, nor would I have been able to see the handy work. To a bondage enthusiast, this was really cool looking. Also, this was something I could mimic when I do my own self-bondage sessions. These films will really serve as tutorials.
The second tie was a ‘Ball Separator’. It was simple enough. A cord went around my cock and balls and was tied to hold them. The rope then came back around my cock from the front. He created several twists in the line emanating from the taint between my balls. He then separated the lines at the base of my cock’s shaft. The lines were pulled under my balls and were brought back around the cock to secure the tie.
My balls were indeed separated. Taught and a tad painful. And I believe, especially to this gay crowd of Doms, hot looking. It’s a shame I can’t and won’t share the video of these ties as I know my written description doesn’t give justice to the actual tying technique nor its visual outcome.
He did a couple variations of these bonds and then moved to what he called suspension and hanging ties. The first tie was not so bad, it mimicked leather ball stretcher devices that the boys over the past three exploits have applied to me. From it he hung some round bar weights. Thankfully my current nearly closed legs position made swinging the weight limited.
The last tie was the brutal one. It was a sophisticated tie around my balls and cock and consisted of many windings, crossovers gripping hard around the base of my cock and sack. It also provided rope loops for attachment. I was then released from my neck hang and laid onto my back which was uncomfortable but only lasted for the short time it took them to hook my newly tied cock and ball suspension tie to the hoist cable snatch. The winch was then activated, and I was slowly lifted.
The pain from my groin was immediate as I was lifted off the floor solely by the attachment to my privates. My screams were muffled by the gag, but as it was just a penis gag, I know my sounds were being well broadcast.
They took me up to fucking height and I figure that would be next. But instead, I was given a gentle push so that I was now swinging from my privates. My first instinct was to stay still as possible to minimize any trauma, but in my current bonds and suspension there was nothing I could do to stop the swaying.
Instinctively, I shifted immediately to yelling out through the gag my safe word, partially due to the pain, but more because I was scared that I would be hurt from my own body weight held by my privates. In quick hindsight I realized that they were experts at this and that while painful it would likely not really hurt me long-term or damage me permanently. But had I yelled out “Yellow!” It would be the first time I had ever used my safe words at the Dungeon. As soon as I did, the cable was activated, and I was swiftly lowered to the ground.
I was given a minute or two of rest when I was asked respectfully if I wanted to give another try at being lifted by my jewels. The lesser ‘Yellow’ safe word is not a total ground stop, so it was an allowable and reasonable request to ask me if I wanted to try again. In the short time that had transpired I had got control of myself; the pain had subsided, and as indicated I had made the quick conclusion that they would not do something that would do real harm or damage. So true to the submissive masochist that I was becoming I announced ‘Green’ and I was hoisted up again.
As I had better mind control this time, the pain level did not seem nearly as bad as the first go around. My mind was switching from the anxiety of the act to its novelty. When I reached what I came to find was a waist high level, the cable again stopped.
This time I was not pushed into a swaying motion but instead I was grasped, which took away some of the strain, had my legs pushed wide and then penetrated by an erect and ready lubed cock for five quick thrusts before he stepped away and I was grabbed again and repenetrated by second cock for another five thrusts, these a little slower, before I was again drop to the floor and subsequently released from the cable and ties. I will grant you, upon viewing the video, this is thrilling to watch, I get excited. I wish the hood had not covered my facial expressions; they would have been fun to see.
It was curious that as mind-blowing as this happening was to me, it was just a casual outing for the boys as evidenced by the instructor continuing his lecture, offering tips and ideas while I was forced to endure his sexual exploits.
I was released from these bonds, but I was not done. I was told they had one more rope-tie to show called the ‘Waitress’ and I would be kept in it for a while. This tie mimics a server with his/her elbows shooting backwards and their wrists in the front with food and drinks on a tray. In this bondage position, my elbows were constrained behind me using both rope with my wrists tied off in the front.
A serving tray was then put in my two hands to show that I could be in bondage and still move about and serve food and drinks to the Doms should my blindfold be removed. He then dropped me to my knees to show that both my mouth and my hands could be used for other required tasks required of a working submissive. He encouraged the others to put this particular tie in use during their own sessions as not many bondage positions are more humiliating than the waitress pose, clothed or naked, especially when at an event with many guests in attendance.
Chapter 17: Pool Side Service
It was late Saturday afternoon. Dr. D and his mate had a poolside dinner party planned for his six BDSM club fraternity Doms as well as five other invited couples which included the male/female Dom/sub couple. They often entertain with poolside parties. The other eight were gay men, maybe not all couples but I think most of them were. There would be two servers for the evening. I was one, my new female friend was to be the other.
When I saw her on the patio, I saw that she had been tied in the same ‘Waitress’ style as I was. And like me, she was completely naked. She looked uncomfortable and it didn’t appear to be from the ties, but rather from her nakedness. The guests were in various levels and forms of dress. Some in simple casual attire, some in bathing suits, some in leather outfits which included all the BDSM Doms who were sporting the outfits they had worn all day. With one or two wearing a bit more cover than they had been. All seem comfortable and at ease, socializing as one would at a pool party.
The outside kitchen was active, barbecue ribs and brisket were in a smoker. A large tray of jumbo shrimp on skewers was ready for the barbecue grill. There were cheese, fruit, and vegetable trays, salads, and rolls and all the other appropriate sides that a good host would provide. All the popular local beers were on ice as well as both red and white wines.
One of the jobs of the two subs for the evening would be to bring any of the foods and refreshments the guests wanted to them as a waitress would. Often carrying a tray in our perfectly tied hands, making an offering to guests as they mingled. We would also be there to satisfy any other pleasures the guests may require or request from us. As time went on, I soon realized there was a disproportionate demand for my services.
She primarily catered to her mate and served food. When others called on her, it was more for fetching another beer and similar tasks. It was rare that she was asked to service one of the guys, although I did see her having to suck one or two of them. One even took her from behind, but I don’t know which hole was being used.
The boys preferred me. They would call me over to fondle my privates or rub my chest. There was a lot of pinching and twisting of my nipples, often after I brought them a requested drink. Given sort of like a tip. Often, I was asked to give them hand-jobs as they laid on chaise-lounge chairs as they chatted with other guests. It took a while for me to find the best position to kneel in to do the task requested with my arms tied the way they were. I was called upon to suck dicks, finger butts and every once in a while, bent over and be fuck from behind. No one was ever serviced to the point of bringing them to climax except one.
There is a bath changing house near the pool. One of the new guests told me to follow him. He went into the bath house and went into one of the two toilet stalls and brought me in with him, closing the door behind us. He pulled off his bathing suit and sat down on the toilet. “Blow me Straight Boy” I was commanded. I wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t wearing a condom. I didn’t know if he was safe. I hesitated for a moment. Then I slowly got down on my knees in front of him which took a bit of an effort in the tight space and my hands tied as they were.
Now staring in my face was an erect cock. “Come on get at it, you have others to serve besides me.” I then hear from outside the stall a familiar voice that simply says, “He’s my guest, do what he wants.” And I reluctantly do, hoping that Dr. D knows I’ll come to no harm. It takes a bit, again having no use of my hands in this position, but in time I get him there and just as he explodes, he pulls out of my mouth and squirts his thick cum over my face and in in my hair. He wipes his cock across my eyes multiple times and pushes it against my nose wiping the last drips he can coach out of it into my nostrils.
He laughingly thanks me, gets up and pushes me aside, leaving the stall. I struggle back up to my feet and wall into the main room. In the mirror I see the results of his climax, semen running down my cheeks, more smeared over my eyelids, a glob or two dripping down my upper lip trying to seep into my closed mouth. My hands are useless, I can’t clean my face.
I feel degraded and humiliated that I have no choice but to go back out to the pool deck and continue to serve as I am. I’m a sub. This feeling however was never part of my fantasies. Reality has consequences not considered when wishing what we imagine would come true. I find out later that this guy is also a Dom, just not part of the fraternity. A little abusive to straight guys for my taste.
The party went on for a while. I did what I was called upon to do. Some things gave me the willies. For instance, I was twice made to lay down on a chaise lounge and was fondled including the sucking of my nipples. It is not one of my favorite sexual stimulations. I was fingered. I was sucked, which made me nervous. I was told to enter the pool by way of the beach walk-in area to fondle and suck swimmers.
I brought one of the boys to ejaculation, he spurted into the water and then he rewarded me by dunking my face into his mess. It seemed one moment I was being treated as a simple servant and the next being abused and teased.
It kept me unsettled and anxious. But there were also moments of personal pleasure, it surely was enjoyable watching that very pretty and young co-waitress serving others, her arms bound. I could tell that this wasn’t her favorite fantasy either. The party was still going strong when I noticed she was missing but her master was still here. I didn’t know what to make of that, but I would find that I was about to be reunited with her.
Chapter 18: Glory, Glory Two Sluts, Four Holes, No Waiting
I had just finished getting a beer for one of the Doms when Dr. D called for me to follow him. We entered the dungeon where he undid my waitress tie which was a welcome relief. Any restraint position wears on you after a while. Freedom was short lived as I was placed in my irons again, neck, wrists and ankles, hands in front. I was then escorted over to the back side of the play area.
I recalled that on my first trip during my initial tour of the dungeon, noticing doors on the wall near the dining table. The table is where I would write in my daily journal entries on the computer. I assumed, wrongly, that these were closets. We are heading to the doors, first stopping at the table. There my dick is covered in electro-lube, and I am outfitted with a plastic cock chastity device which is locked in place.
Noticeable and alarming are the electrical leads attached to the plastic shell which contains my penis. A belt is put around my waist, locked in place, where a small electro-power box is attached to the belt unreachable behind me with my cuffed hands. With the punishment device in place, his next task is inserting a smear of lube into my asshole. I am then pushed towards the wall.
The middle door is open, behind it is a very narrow room, three feet wide, maybe less, yet it is deep. I was told to enter. It was lit by a soft red light. In the dimness I see that I will not be alone in this narrow space. My lady friend is here, and she is similarly bound in irons, hers chrome plated, and she is otherwise naked, as am I. Looking around, I noticed the walls appear to be plastic covered. There are also multiple round holes on each side with a rubber grommet protecting each opening, maybe two inches in diameter.
“You know what this is?” I am asked. I offer no reply, but a follow-up statement immediately comes “You better service whatever comes through the holes, understand? If not…” and my dick is shocked hard, buckling my knees. Apparently, he was directing his comments to both of us, as she a moment later cried out in anguish, also being shocked.
“You both have your own holes to work.” Tapping the wall on the right with his hand he adds, “This wall is for your mouth. Take all that you are given. Use your hands to help make it good. Swallow. Your cock will suffer if you don’t and your pussy my dear will suffer if you don’t. You both use your ass on anything offered on the other wall. Push hard against the wall to accept the cocks, if they are coming in that way, they will already be hard. Then you do the work, thrusting against the wall, pulling back, then thrusting again, don’t make my guests have to work to be pleasured. And don’t dare let it slip out till they are done. Got it?”
I quickly answer, “Yes, Sir.” And so does she. It was the first time I heard her voice. Timid and sweet. The door is closed and locked.
There was no rush or urgency for them. We were left to stew and ponder as we waited. Neither of us dared to talk to each other. I have no idea of how long it was, surely a good fifteen to twenty minutes before my penis was lightly buzzed to get my attention and focus and I heard a door open and closed. Soon an erect cock appears in the mouth hole in front of me. It is my duty to get down on my knees and service it.
I did. I’ve been learning how to give a good blow job. I don’t like it. I still get nothing out of it. And swallowing someone’s jizz is disgusting, nauseating. But I concentrate on the subservient element. The fact that my wrists, ankles and neck have wide metal cuffs connected to chains binding me in a locked in a room with no escape, my dick caged and wired to be tortured at any moment, completely out of my control provide the sexual turn-on, the excitement to suck, lick and fondle the anonymous dick I’ve been ‘forced’ to service.
It is different only having the dick shaft poking through the hole with no balls to work with, and not as much length. However, there is so many nerve endings on the dick head that I am driving this cock wild. I can feel his body pounding against the wall as he tries to give me as much of his cock as he can. I will get him there in a short amount of time. He explodes unexpectedly in my mouth as I suck and lick his cock head.
He has more of a load than I anticipated and I almost gag trying to handle it all as he pulses uncontrollably, my lips sealed tight around his shaft, gripping him to slow his movement. I get control of my own reflex and swallow deeply. Switching to licking him clean, trying not to think about what is traveling down my throat and to my stomach. I have satisfied one. Did it without getting zapped. How many more would I need to do? I know there will be more, this is too elaborate of a set up to service just one.
I am on my second cock when she gets her first. I know most if not all the guys here are gay, but when you are sticking your dick in a hole to be sucked by an anonymous mouth, does it matter if it is by another male or a female? I’m sure she has more practice at blow jobs than me.
My third visitor takes the backdoor, both literally and figuratively. This is awkward and difficult to do. Especially aligning and getting the initial penetration into me. I use my hand against the other wall for leverage in my thrusts. She seems to be taking one in the ass at the same time. That thought gives me some pleasure even as I concentrate on my work.
I wonder if she is just servicing her mate, and he is enjoying both ends of her. The thought is wrong, as she is now servicing two simultaneously. I haven’t had to do that. The room we are in was designed to do two at a time from each end, but it isn’t easy from the contorting and stretching she is forced to do to get them both satisfied. I hear her gagging at times as she goes too deep while rebounding from a butt thrust. She is twice shocked, letting out a yelp as she continues. I’m without anyone as she is doubling so I can glance over and watch. Fantastic.
I don’t know how many we each did, I had two up the ass and I know they were different people based on size. My mouth had maybe five, with three shooting their loads, two didn’t, but not for lack of effort on my part. Not sure how many boys my friend did, probably about the same number, we were busy at times. I think they like her work better. You can hear their moans and shouts of delight through the walls. Makes sense, she is probably much more skilled at both ends. It would have been nice to find out for myself, she is a hot little bound plaything.
Chapter 19: An Earthly Angel Bound to Saint Sybian
I was removed from the glory room first, taken over to the play wall area where the discipline chair is sitting facing the wall, set about four feet from it. I had spent some unpleasant time in that chair a while back. They removed my irons and electro chastity cage, put me in the chair, and strapped me down tight, making me immobile once more. I was staring directly at a Sybian jutting out from the wall mounted about five feet off the ground.
Primarily built to stimulate women’s pussies to excess, I was sure I was about to see another show from my ‘friend’. It was outfitted with what I came to learn were two Sybian accessories. To help capture in writing what I had witnessed, I researched the Sybian website to determine what they were.
The primary accessory sitting on the top as a saddle was a G-Egg which, according to their own description, is for the experienced rider. They go on to say it features a seven-inch oval shaped g-spot stimulator covered with a pebbled texture that adds stimulation directly on the g-spot. It has a thicker base than their other attachments, giving the rider a fuller feeling and the plumpness of the egg provides maximum internal contact. A multi-directional pattern of stimu-nubs line the front base for tantalizing clitoral contact. I watch as the oval is slather with lube. You can smell the coconut.
If that attachment wasn’t enough, the boys have added a new Sybian toy called the Rabbit Tickler. It is held on to the G-Egg with a built-in loop and has two flexible ‘rabbit ears’ that when sticking up will tickle and tease the clit for extra stimulation where it matters most. Whoever is going to be sitting on this is in for a ride. And of course I have no doubt about who it will be.
They brought my glory hole ‘slut’ partner out. She is an attractive slender and petite beauty, so after removing her irons and the electro probe nestled in her vagina, she was an easy lift for the two Doms that raised her up and over the egg while a third pulled her legs apart, allowing free entree to her wet cunt opening. Lubrication will be limited to her own natural juices and what was placed on the bulb as I saw no extra added to her. She holds her breath and bites her bottom lip as they begin her descent.
The G-egg is stiff, so it is her cunt that yields and opens as she is dropped down swallowing it. It is large and she is small. As such, she cries out and has a look of astonishment as her pussy clamps down on the invading toy and her cunt lips bottom out on the knobby base, her vagina made full. I would not describe it as a look of pleasure. Certainly, one laced with a good deal of apprehension. Seeing many online girls bound and riding one of these, her concerns are well founded. Who knows, she might even have previous experience with Sir Sybian to base her growing anxiety on.
Her own master reaches under her and adjusts her pussy lips so that they are well spread over the knobby surface and that the rabbit wings are placed to do the most good. ‘Good’ being a debatable term.
While he was adjusting her privates, she tries to resist with little success the actions of others who were putting leather cuffs on her ankles and wrist, stretching them outward with rope tethers till they are taut, securing them to eye-hooks in the wall leaving her in an upright spread eagle pose with all her weight supported by her cunt resting upon the Sybian saddle. She wasn’t coming off this device and her full body weight would be pressing her down on her devious perch.
Not done, they attach long leather cords to her horseshoe barbell piercings and pull till her nipples and tiny boobs are cruelly stretched outward toward me with the cord ends tied off to securing rings on my chair. I don’t mind, but obviously she does. She is nothing more than a toy and is being handled as such. Much to my amusement. Even the gay boys are getting a kick out of this straight girl’s growing plight.
I am excited that I have a front row seat for the show, but now they are outfitting me with toys of my own. I’ve been previously abused in this chair with both devices they are placing on me. One is a control and punishment device, a long and wide chrome bi-polar electro butt plug with a thin neck that will hold fast when put in place. This seems to be a favorite around here. It can deliver quite a wallop. I’m not thrilled.
The other is a Milker Automatic Masturbation Machine. It is owned by one of the other Masters of the social club. Last trip they nearly drove me insane with it by letting it continue to run after it caused my first ejaculation, a time when the penis is hypersensitive. It ran without respite, suffering as I slowly recovered, hardened, and spurted again and then kept it going till I went a third time and then more till I was having dry climaxes. The abusive restrained milking was pure torture, especially right after each ejaculation.
This time, however, I’m sharing the stage, and I won’t be the featured entertainer. They start us both out slowly. The Sybian can be a noisy unyielding excessive vibration unit as it both buzzes the outside of the victim’s pussy and the inside with its rotating dildo with gusto. However, at a low setting it can be a delightful tease based on videos I have previously enjoyed. Her reaction is immediate, one of sheer pleasure with her eyes tightly closed as her body tenses up and relaxes.
She is enjoying the ride, a lovely distraction from the way she is bound, her weight being supported by her tender vulva and the tugging of her nipples. You see her pussy clamping down hard against the vibrations as a ripple seems to wash over her. A faint aroma of sex drifted towards me.
My dick too is enjoying the sucking and pulling as the milker does its thing. I harden, but it’s caused by more than just the milker, what I am watching is stimulatingly hot. I love it. She’s bound and being forced into a climax. I’m watching it happen live, up close and personal, one of my biggest fantasies, less me not being the one controlling her.
But just as I get to the point of nearly cumming for which I am about to ask permission to do so, my toy is abruptly stopped, and my butt is lit up with shocks that stops my rise to climax in its tracks. And while my machine is idled, hers is taken up a notch. You can tell it’s now a little intense for her, but she is still having a good time. I hear her gasp and start to pant. A hard climax is rapidly approaching.
I had lost my hard-on when shocked but began to recover while intently watching her with delight. She struggled against her impending climax, but somehow managed to ride the wave without shouting out or tugging to excess her nipples.
My machine is back on, and I am getting super-rigid again. I’m getting close and ask for permission to climax as I watch her enjoy hers. I’m given a simple ‘no’ in response and as I start to tremble, knowing I’m about to lose it, my stroker is shut down again, my ass shocked hard and my penis softens a bit, climax averted. And she squealed as the speed went up another notch. A new twist to aversion therapy?
Now, she is moving into the realm of overstimulation. She stiffens.as vibration wave after vibration wave hits. She is getting closer to the edge. Her face is now grimacing, her body trying to adjust itself off her pussy lips to no avail. The machine is incessant. The vibrations are flooding her loins. The dildo deep inside her must feel like it is on overdrive, you can hear the loudness of the machine grinding at her, while I can see the hard ribbed extension under her playing with her clit.
She is crying out. This is solved with a ring gag being temporarily secured in her mouth, followed by a pair of red panties she knows too well, being inserted through it, stuffed in by a practiced finger till her mouth is full. The ring gag is maneuvered back out while the panties are secured in place with multiple circles of clear packing tape around her face and head. Now mute, her body language will provide her oratory. She has her next orgasm, there will be many more to come. Her body is perspiring, shaking, bouncing, squirming in her bonds that do not yield. She can get no relief.
As this occurs, I am getting hard again and it’s just from the activity in front of me. I don’t even notice when they resumed my physical stimulation. I am again arriving near climax, so the milker is shut off and I’m shocked. And she gets the punishment for my near delight, with her Sybian turned up another notch. Now she is really squirming and shouting to please stop, but her sounds have been well muffled by the gag.
She succumbs to having uncontrolled orgasms on top of uncontrolled orgasms. Her eyes are rolling back in her head. I’ve never seen a body and limbs shake so violently, her titties being yanked and distorted by her intense movements, thrashing from side to side then collapsing forward against the climax which consumed her and the bonds that hold her. She is not enjoying this, but I am. Such overstimulation provides agony not ecstasy. Pleasure sensations overdone to this level are just torment.
She is being tortured and it’s to my delight less my fear that she might rip her barbell piercings from her nipple with all the stress she is exerting on them. They are such delicate beauties. I’m being effectively edged yet I don’t care, the show is so good it’s a small price to pay. I’m a long way from Blue Balls. Besides, I’m not in control. I love my restraints at this point as they make me feel guilt free on multiple levels. Oh, what a show!
A Sybian has a wide range of vibration. The sound of the motors whirring fast fill the room, drowning out the idle chatter of those watching the entertainment. I am denied four more times before she is up to the highest setting. At that point she is near convulsions. Her animalistic grunts and howling through her gag have turned to muffled sobbing entwined with ‘please, please, please, please stop please... She is exhausted, her body in a collapsed state of near unconsciousness yet still involuntarily flailing and thrashing against her tethers and the saddle.
She has moved well past orgasming as her body has shut down that response. She lost control of her bladder three settings prior to the top with her stream dribbling from her pussy down over the sleek black curves of the Sybian where it looks like it is dancing, a result of the uninterrupted powerful vibrations. It ultimately drips down onto the floor where small puddles form.
I’m not sure she even knew she peed, her face was already contorted and grimaced, her eyes tightly closed and breathing erratic. I found it just added to my glee, even though I figured that eventually one of the two of us would be cleaning up the mess with our tongue.
All good things must come to an end. When they decided she had had enough, which was long after she really had, they slowly lowered her vibration and G-egg rotation, her face and body having ever-varying reactions as she glided down. They also shut off my milking toy for the final time, yet I remained erect even after they removed it.
Then it got weird and dangerously close to my line again, maybe standing right on it. She was brought down from her perch; her hands are cuffed behind her back, and she is put in a kneeling position within a foot of me centered between my spread wide and secured legs. She is held firm by two of the masters as she is unstable and quite out of it, her eyes still semi-rolled back.
They are also there to keep her in her new position. Her panty gag is removed and replaced again with the ring gag. Then Dr. D lubes up my hard penis and begins to stroke it. There is nothing I can do to stop him masturbating me, and he is good at it. The girl’s master is now behind her and has her long hair grasped with one hand and his other gripping the back of her upper neck controlling the movement of her head as the other two hold her in her spot. Three sizable and strong men providing an overwhelming amount of physical control on this little toy, she is going nowhere. I mentally try to resist getting excited but that is fruitless with the stroking of my penis and the imagery that surrounds me.
Dr. D says, “You have my permission to cum.” For once, something I didn’t want to hear. I watch her being pushed toward me, placing her forced open mouth in perfect alignment with where Dr. D is aiming my dickhead. His hand glides up and down my lubed shaft. It takes just moments before the inevitable happens, my long held edged buildup of sperm shoots out in strong spurts easily traveling the one-inch separation between dick and mouth.
Held tight by her own master she gets at least four hand pump assisted squirts squarely into the back of her mouth with the fifth having a little less momentum, landing on her bottom lip with where it runs down her chin. I’m kind of proud of the load I produced. She is pulled back a bit, as I am milked. Her eyes, now more able to focus, begin to give me a fixed stare, pleading through them, ‘why?’ in a sort of ‘et tu, Brute?’ appeal.
Dr. D has gathered on his cupped fingers all the thick drops emerging from my slit as he milked me and inserts them in her open mouth, dragging against the ring as he withdraws them, scraping off my final jizz so it will stay with her. Enthralled, I can’t help watching her dismay and anguish, which both troubles me and brings me delight.
Her master tilts her head back as another removes the gag, and she is told to “Swallow him, lick your lips.” Her master, satisfied her humiliation was complete, then adds, “It's time to head to our room and clean you up.” Having no strength or ability to even stand, she is picked up by her master, my cum now in her throat causing some cough/gag action with the remainder dribbling down her face. She glances back at me as she is carried away and I get a hint of a smile.
First time ever my stuff has been in or on any woman besides my wife. I didn’t touch her, she didn’t touch me, we had no relations, yet I feel guilty. Big time. The little smile confuses the issue more. Dr. D insists I didn’t cross the line, nor did the boys. The Contract was not breached. Some may consider that conclusion BS.
My reward was to lick up her pee on the floor, so I would have some of her in me too without ever touching her. Her volume had been plentiful and my lapping slower than they desired, so a rag was tossed down near my face and I was directed to “Sop her up with that.”
Chapter 20: Punishment
As stated, Dr. D’s opinion is that we didn’t cross the line with anything that happened with the young female sub, so I should feel no guilt and serve no punishment. Despite his free pass on her, Dr. D believed that I still had many other transgressions this weekend that needed to be corrected through a sustained punishment. I thought I had been receiving plenty of punishments all along. Guess not enough. I was to ride the Spanish horse.
Truth be told, I was going to be made to ride it regardless. My mind had fretted for months that if I returned to the dungeon that I would suffer again on the horse because in my last journal I wrote that I wondered what riding it would be like if I wasn’t being maliciously electro shocked simultaneously. Then I had foolishly let some of my phone conversations with Dr. D migrate to the same subject.
I have a detailed physical description of the horse in my last journal if you are interested. And you can read about the combined electroshock and riding tortures I endured. For brevity here, just know that the horse mimics the shape of an oversized carpenter’s sawhorse rising to a height of just under five feet tall. The leg sets are about three and one-half feet wide at the floor and there is five feet between each of the legs sets, making a horse that is an intimidating five feet high and five feet long, not counting the decorations projecting from each end. The business end, i.e. the top edge, is an unforgiving rounded point.
When I was released from the chair to lick up the floor, I had been placed in leather wrist cuffs that were locked together with a short chain behind my back. They will remain that way when I am hoisted up onto the horse. I was to be gagged too. Their choice this time, the pee-soaked rag. I was packed with it, held in place with similar multiple wraps of shipping tape we saw used on her, circling from my chin to under my nose, sealing my lips tight around my wet stuffing. Both a disgusting and effective gag. To complete my naked ensemble, the boys add a leather O-ring neck collar and leather ankle cuffs.
With them in place, I am lifted and sat down in the middle of the pointed edge. The rear O-ring on my neck collar is attached to a hoist cable that was dangling above the horse. It is raised until there is slight tension on my neck, providing the balance I need to keep me from falling off as my arms and legs will be useless. My ankle cuffs are then secure to a spreader bar underneath the horse frame, slightly spreading my thighs away from the horse sides. My full body weight now rests on my scrotum and my perineum, that tiny patch of sensitive skin between my genitals and anus. The unyielding board is pinching this skin against what I guess are my pelvic bones. It is rapid discomfort converting to outright pain.
My pronounced sentence will be one hour. A countdown digital clock on a stand is placed directly in front of me, set up so that I’ll watch in agony as the seconds and minutes slowly count down. Bastards.
I try to get comfortable, but the more I shift my position the worse it gets. I’ve amused myself many times watching women bound as I am. I have no idea how they can survive the crushing and pinching of the lips and clit of their pussies feeling the building discomfort I already have on the flat, smooth surfaces that make up my anatomy. I am resisting the urge to shift as my resting point is numbing up and that reduces the ache some. But I can’t resist, the moving gives me a fresh pain spot and pinching.
It’s been an agonizing fifteen minutes. I want it to stop. Please make it stop, I’m sorry for what I did, whatever it was. I want to cry. I’m a grown man, but that doesn’t mean tears don’t roll down my cheeks. That is answered with “Well I see you need something to take your mind off your suffering.” The diversion: One of my nipples is pulled and twirled between Master’s fingers and then he attaches a sinister nipple clamp.
This style has two stainless steel bars that each partially encircle the nipple and are connected by adjustable screws with ball ends that give me a strong pinch as he screws both sides down tight. He pulls outwardly on the clamp, and it holds tight on the nipple. My other nipple is then clamped. Master then loops and ties a length of leather cord around each clamp and gives each a strong tug to make sure the clamps will hold. This is a repeat of what he did to me on the horse, last visit. And as before these lanyards are stretched tightly and tied off to the head of the horse, forcing my weight more onto my scrotum.
I can’t believe this. The agony from the pointed rail on which I sit had been constant for the past few minutes which allowed me to slowly get used to it and absorb it. Now with just a little change, it is back to square one, fresh agony. I can’t get away from it.
It’s now been thirty minutes. Will I make it? My body has again been converting my new pain into the form of a bearable ache. It is pinpointed where the contact is and radiates outward. It first attacked the skin layers, then the thin muscles below and finally consumed the bone. It is a crushing injury. Thankfully, numbness in time does divert this pain to ache, but neither is pleasant nor provides the euphoria of sexual pain/pleasure.
This ride is different from the last trip. Then I was receiving violent electroshock stimulation as I rode the rail. That was just as excruciating but having two competing pain stimuli help both the time pass and the mind to keep occupied adjusting to the ever-changing pangs. This single action I think might be more penalizing, yes, it is crueler.
Forty-five minutes. The Bastards are back. They are fiddling with the spreader bar holding my ankles. They extend it, spreading my legs farther. The new pain is instant, so much worse. It seems to be making the point of contact on the ridge sharper. Brutal. The tears well up again. I notice I have sucked the pee-soaked gag dry. I tried everything in my toolbox to divert my mind from the pain till I gave up, succumbed to the pain and just mentally fad out, I drifted off to sleep.
Apparently, dozing was not going to be allowed. I am jolted back to my reality with a single tail whip laying a stripe across my shoulder. Looking up I see the clock is counting down to eight minutes. During those next eight minutes the tail covered my entire back with lashes, my secured hands trying, but being of little use to block the whip. There was ample time to also place red lines on both of my sides, my belly and my chest.
It is on these hits that I see the strikes are being landed by the ‘straight’ master. I’m not sure how he was able to land each swipe on my chest with the nipple tethers in the way, but he did. He, like the others that have been abusing me during this rent-a-sub weekend, is well skilled at his trade. I saw his whipping skills on his sub and now feel them on me. As he works me over, he tells me this is his way of paying his debt for the service I had provided his sub. He is grateful.
What? I did what? This is a reward? He goes on to tell me his sub is presently soaking in a bubble bath back in their suite. He says with sincerity that this is an apt reward for her being a good submissive today, taking her punishment as a good cunt should without complaint or hesitation. He truly believes he is also rewarding me with the tip of his whip. That makes sense as he sees me as a bound pain slut craving this treatment. Not totally accurate.
He continues his work. The clock ticks down to zero. The whipping stops. I refocus from the mental trance I have been hiding in to control the pain as they unbuckle my ankle cuffs from the spreader bar, release my very tender nipples from their tethers and clamps and my neck collar from the cable. I am slowly pulled off the horse and dropped to the floor. My numb privates shriek back to life as the blood replenishes the area. The ache returns to outright pain that is very similar to the agony when tight nipple clamps are removed after pinching for a long time.
My whipped skin too is afire. My ankle cuffs are locked together, and I am left in a heap on the floor beside the horse, arms still locked behind me. They are kind enough to remove the rag gag taped in my mouth. I survived the horse again. My mind and body are toast. My groin is experiencing spasms and cramps and a soreness I know will last past this weekend. I drift off again.
Not sure how long I laid there, it had been a while, but when I was woken, I felt much better. A dog bowl of plate scraps from what I guess was the group’s dinner was set down beside me and I was given permission to eat. After that handless challenge was completed, I was hydrated with a bottle of water and was assisted with relieving myself into a pee bottle. It was then off to my next quest.
Chapter 21: Sky High Crucified
The chain holding my leg cuffs was released and I was taken outside. We walked by the pool to a patio area near the rear gate. Sitting on the ground is a steel frame in the shape of a cross. The upright shaft consists of two parallel square one-inch metal tubes, spaced about twelve inches apart and connected together by numerous cross bars of like material, welded in place.
About six feet from the foot of the cross are the arms also made of two parallel one-inch square tubes, but these are only about two inches apart. The arms have four short two-inch-wide padded leather straps with roller buckles on each side attached to the bars. Welded to the frame at about crotch height is a three-inch round, twelve-inch-long pipe, sticking out perpendicular to the cross frame.
Rising upward from the pipe, not quite in the center of its length is a mounted black rubber butt plug of moderate size. There is also a three-inch-wide leather strap with double roller buckles attached to the upright frame just below the cross arms. Taking it all in, I shudder.
“Let’s get to it,” exclaims Dr. D. My wrist cuffs are removed, and the cross is raised up and placed behind me. I feel the protruding pipe hitting me about mid back. Two stepping blocks are put next to my feet, and I am directed to step up onto them. That provides the height needed for them to slide the pipe between my legs.
With a little maneuvering and bending of the upright plug they center it, so it is aligned with and then pushed into my hole. They pull the blocks from under my feet, and I slip down onto the bar with my hole painfully swelling to swallow the plug and then closing around its narrower throat.
My arms are now pulled upright against the cross’s arms. The cross seems tailor made for my height as my arms are at 90 degrees from my body as they are strapped to the bars, the buckles pulled tight and secured. The three-inch leather belt is then threaded under my armpits from behind and then buckled taught across my upper chest. I am now one with the cross, supported and secured by my arms, chest and mostly my crotch.
As a result, my shoulders and chest muscles don’t feel overly stressed, thank goodness, otherwise I would be facing a possible crucifixion if I was suspended by them. My dangling ankles are then cuffed together and loosely tethered to the bottom of the cross so if I bend my knees and swivel my hips I have a little bit of upward movement with my legs. Otherwise, my legs are free to hang, they are not part of my restraint.
The sun is low in the sky getting ready to set. “It’s dusk and time to retire the flag for the evening and replace it with an all-night surrogate,” states Dr. D in a matter-of-fact manner. In the back corner of the rear pool patio area is one of those commercial mammoth 60 feet tall flagpoles, like many car dealerships own with one of those beautiful oversized American flags. They rotate the cross so that I can watch them lower and fold the flag. As stunning as it all is, I am fretting as I begin to absorb what is about to happen to me and my cross.
With the retired flag now properly stowed, the three boys who have been holding the loaded cross upright, move it over to the flagpole and prop it and me against the pole. I feel a hand pulling on my ball sack and dick. The rope master is at work, and I am getting some kind of genital tie. It takes a few minutes but after he announces that he is finished, I feel some more finagling along with a slight tugging of the cords.
Trying to look down, it appears that they have attached to a double loop on my new cock and ball tie via a swivel hook, some kind of longer cord connected to a cloth strip that lays on the ground in front of me. I will come to find out that the strip is an eight-foot-long, four-inch-wide red, white and blue cloth streamer that will be dangled from my privates.
It is explained to me that the pole was installed with two purposes in mind, I just saw the traditional use and will now experience the second. I’m told that the hoist rope is an oversized stranded aircraft cable rated to handle both the stresses of the large flag blowing in the wind and that of the weight of alternative objects to be hoisted to the top. Also, the hoisting is accomplished by means of a mechanical winch installed at the base as both kinds of loads anticipated would be challenging hoisting by hand.
They shift the cross completely upright and fasten it at the top and near the bottom to the pole cable. It was obviously designed and constructed for this specific purpose. “We will bring you back down at daybreak. Maybe. Enjoy the view, sleep well my Bitch. Send him up.” And with a whirl, I feel the cross leave the ground with a little sway, my arms and pits settle against the leather straps and my body pushes down further against the bar between my legs.
I rise slowly and smoothly upwards. I’m not afraid of heights but this is nerve-racking as there is the real feeling of nothing around me. I can’t see the flagpole behind me, although the cross does occasionally bump against it as I rise. About ten feet up I begin to feel the pull of the streamer hanging from my cock and balls. It is not that heavy, but it does have some weight. I immediately become cognizant that if there is any breeze this lark of Dr. D may become a significant dilemma.
Up and up, I go. God this is high and I’m still going up. I’m not sure how long it took, I think over a minute, maybe less, to get to what I assume is the top of the pole. It stops effortlessly. And here I am. I can’t really see directly down to the bottom of the pole and the boys. I can barely see my dick pulled to the side of the pipe when I push my chin against my chest. They have set up my tail so that I am dressed to the right. The boys moved away from the pole and looked up at me. They are chatting but I can’t tell what they are saying. They don’t appear to be talking up to me.
I am anxious. I am up in the sky with no connection to the ground. It is unnerving. A slight breeze takes hold of the streamer, and I can feel light tugging. It’s a helpful diversion for the moment. I don’t know if it is by design or planned or just luck, but I am facing out the back of the property and toward the sunset. It is breathtaking, but so is the anxiousness of my situation taking away some of the effects of the beauty I am seeing.
Another thought rushes in. I am naked and the sun has not fully set. Can I be seen by the neighbors? I can see houses, luckily, they are not close by. These are all large estates, but people could certainly be outside. Will I be seen? Would they be able to recognize what they are seeing? If caught, what would be the ramifications? My host surely must have thought this through and is not concerned, otherwise he would not have done this. He has a reputation to consider.
It takes some time, but as calmness comes to me and darkness consumes my perch, the discomfort from the pull on my arm binds, the pressure of the crotch rest, and the grip of the unforgiving plug in my ass all take over my attention. None are providing excessive forces on my body. It has been well designed with the intent of securing its victim for a long period while giving the physical and mental feel of being impaled, saddled and crucified all at the same time without inducing too much harm.
With nightfall comes some gentle breezes. It is Las Vegas so they are warm and pleasant, but they do catch the streamer and there is both pulling and twisting my balls more than my cock. If the breezes pick up this could be very painful if not outright harmful to me. This has rattled me more than anything. Are they monitoring this… can they? I then concentrate on the fact that my whole body was suspended by a similar tie on my genitals while I was fucked without harm, I’ll be okay.
Chapter 22: Spending the Night on High
Breezes seem to be gentle so far, constant though, but no gusts. It creates a teasing pull on the balls and cock as the streamer performs a tranquil dance pulling my bag against and away from the pipe. My past worries slowly change to euphoria giddiness as this is a never-would have thought of bondage predicament. But at the same time, I remain uneasy that I’ve been told I’m here for the night.
Will I be able to sustain being bound this way for so long? I don’t seem to have a choice. If I need to yell my safe words, will they even be able to hear me? Am I on camera? Is someone staying out here all night? This makes me uncomfortable, I’ve certainly been in more stressful bounds, but this is different, I am up in the sky. Way up.
Time grinds on. It’s dark out in the desert, we are not in a densely occupied area. But off in the distance, many miles away, you can see the bright lights of downtown Vegas. It is quite a panorama. Both the flickering brightness and the many blended colors illuminating the sky are magnificent. Closer you can see lights of cars moving along dark roadways that I can’t not see.
To pass the time I begin to count the nearby neighbors’ homes that glimmer in the dark from their outside accent lighting, and inside lights shining out their windows, but each time I start a breeze comes by I am distracted by the pull and lose count. It doesn’t matter; I don’t need a count. Off in the distance I can also see jets coming in for landings and taking off. They seem to be landing into the colorful lights. It makes sense the airport is near downtown. That is entertaining.
Oh yes, and there are stars, brilliant stars and the moon to see as I look up to stretch my neck muscles. Under other circumstances, all of this would be breathtaking to gaze upon. But it never leaves my mind that I am hanging from what I guess is sixty feet in the air from my arms while naked sitting on a perch that holds me firmly in position via a plug up my butt, and that I have no control over my situation nor the aches that begin to grow. Yes, I never conceived that I would be abused quite this way, but it is part of my bigger fantasy that by my own foolish hand and signature put into action.
And so, I continue to hang. Other than taking in the views there is nothing else to do but hang. Hang and think of what has happened to me already and what could be in store when they bring me down. Numbness has now set in, both in my arms and in my crotch. Despite the numbness, there is still a developing ache that by the end of the night will be agony in my arms, shoulders and especially from the now crushing feeling on the underside of my genitalia, already sore from my horse sitting. This in comparison is a milder assault.
Eventually I get drowsy and then drift off to sleep. Sleep is intermittent and tentative, as changes in wind speed pull enough on the cock and balls to startle me awake. At times it is from a deep sleep and the sky-high location causes unsettling disorientation for a few moments.
And while it is very hot here during the day, upon night fall temperatures drop. I am now getting uncomfortably cool. Not really cold, but the temperature drop still makes me shiver a bit. Even though I peed before I was tied to the cross, I had been hydrated with a full bottle of water. A combination of the chill, the water, and the intermittent pulling on my cock made me need to go again. I held on for an hour or so, but after a while I lost control, and my bladder let go. A strange feeling. Also, confirmation of how high up I was because even in the still of the night I didn’t hear it hit the ground.
I have no Idea what time it is and how long I’ve been up on the pole. It seems like forever. I know I am mentally tired of this, and my body has become one solid ache. Even my feet and legs that are simply dangling hurt. I have tried numerous times to relieve the pain in my crotch by lifting up my legs for what little the ankle tether allows, but when I do that the butt plug causes my rectum to revolt, and my legs drop.
My captors were cunning to loosely tie my ankles to the bottom of the cross. It lets me try to pull my legs up in an attempt to rest my heels on one of the lateral bars on the cross frame so that I might use it as leverage to push up and get relief on both my butt and shoulders. Ah, but it allows just enough movement to almost reach the crossbar and yet fail. And as such, there is attempt, then struggle, failure and frustration to handle. Dr. D loves to break his subs mentally as well as physically. He has again succeeded.
In and out of sleep, using my mind as best I can to deal with the physical stresses, numbness and pain and the never-ending teasing of my cock and balls, the hours pass.
Finally, my eyes notice a change in the sky, it begins to lighten. Daybreak is upon us. My expectation was that I’d be brought straight down, but I’m not. I can hear the boys below me. I even hear one, maybe two, jump into the pool. I also feel the wind pick up, with daybreak comes a change in wind direction and intensity. My balls are already shot, and this new whipping is now painful.
Please oh please bring me down! The sun is almost fully up. Now it is. Come on guys, I’m naked, I can be seen. Please let me down. These words are not shouted out, I don’t want anyone outside the gates to hear me, fearful any noise will draw attention to me. The boys sound like they are eating breakfast on the patio just below me. So cruel on so many levels.
Chapter 23: Post Pole Rimming
The sun has been up for at least half an hour, probably more, when I finally feel the sensation of movement. I’m dropping down. Oh, thank God. This is over. The descent is slow and steady. I feel the bump of landing and I’m grateful. I have just been through a night of torment, fear, and agony yet I find myself profusely thanking Dr. D and his friends for bringing me down.
My babbling is met with: “You can thank us with a round of rim jobs. I think it is the least you can do for us after we have given you a full night of bondage fantasy that you’ll never get with anyone else. And you are going to thank us right here, right now.” It is true that I had discussed the fantasy of being bound overnight, but not to a cross sixty feet up in the air.
My disbelief shows. It is ignored. They release the cross from the hoist and cable and lay it and me down on the patio, my head higher than my feet as they sit the cross arms on the blocks that I stood on as they prepared me last night. I’m having trouble dealing with this. I am aching, tired, stressed, do not really feel thankful and most importantly I dislike rimming.
I’ve been forced to do it before. I know it’s really not a big deal if the receiver is clean. However, this is early morning, and I doubt that all these guys now milling around have cleansed themselves already this morning. I wonder where this will happen after they let me loose, but I soon realize that I am not being released from the cross. A rimming chair is set over my head. It will be here and now. Actually, a few minutes pass before the first butt is presented as they raise the flag up the pole before beginning.
For the next hour I serviced four holes. They were different degrees of cleanliness. The second and third ones I found distasteful to lick. However, poor performance was not an option as each sitter had a flogger in hand and they used it across my still tied cock and balls when I did not perform as they liked. Sir Michael would have been so proud of his pupil. He loves being rimmed.
The last of the four was Dr. D. After he received enough attention, he told me to open wide. While slightly hesitant, I still comply, very concerned as to what is happening. He reaches under the chair and with a Jennings Dental Gag locks my mouth open. I am now petrified. My mouth is wide open under his just stimulated butt hole. No, no, no, he wouldn’t dare dump into my mouth, would he?
It's not that. What is coming is not to my liking at all, but nothing would be worse than what I had been thinking. Its his cock that is being bent down between his legs. I am scolded, “Next time don’t pee on my patio and gardens.” So, I must have been watched all night. And with that he begins to urinate into my mouth. It is not a lot, but enough to fill it. I do not swallow but he tells me I better as I’ll be sent back up the pole if one drop spills onto his patio again.
Laying down with an open gag makes swallowing difficult. I take halting mini swallows to accomplish the task. If nothing else, it got rid of the ass taste in my mouth, if a urine taste is considered better. Dr. D forcing me to drink pee is not unexpected, it is one of his well-known favorite submissive usage kinks. I had been mentally prepared for it when I came.
With Dr. D now satisfied, I was finally released from the cross. I had been tied and plugged for what I believe to be well over ten hours. The time back on the ground being the worst part of the ordeal. I was physically broken. Nonetheless, I was still re-cuffed arms behind the back after I was released from the frame. I was then marched, better described as semi-dragged back into the dungeon, one master on each side of me holding me up via their hands under each of my arms.
I am taken to the table where the computer is located. My hands are re-cuffed in front of me. I am directed to update my journal notes, eat, cleanse myself inside and out and go through the rest of my morning routine. It is as if we are getting ready for another full day of activities.
Chapter 24: I Should Have Booked Uber to Get Back to the Airport
I’m confused. I thought it was getting to be time to head home. It’s mid-if not late morning. On the last trip here, the morning experience was a shower coupled with a final whipping, but then my clothes were given back, a meeting held between Dr. D and me, a general return to normalcy and a trip to the airport.
This time is somewhat different. Not sure why I thought it would be the same. I completed all the things I had been directed to do which took a while, my body was still struggling to recover from the previous marathon session and there was a lot to do. Finished, I present myself, still somewhat shower-damp, having no towels.
I find myself being led back outside to the van naked and my hands still cuffed. I’m put back into the vehicle and strapped down as I was when I was transported here. My escorts depart the van except for Dr. D who is in the back with me. Someone gets in up front to drive. I believe it is the master I like who uses verbal abuse as one of his kinks.
“I wanted some personal fuck time with my rental before you departed,” declared Dr. D as the van started down the driveway. I hear his pants drop and he begins a long hard plowing of my butt hole. Nothing overly abusive, mainly of the bottom being used by the Top for the Dom's intimate pleasure. He times his climax to our arrival at the Cell Phone Lot of the Las Vegas Airport.
They pull in and park. There Dr. D does numerous things. He first pushes into my butt what he tells me is a tampon so that I don’t leak on the way home. He then quickly moves to my head and orders a cleaning of his cock. After he is satisfied with my efforts, pulls out, redresses himself, and combs my now dry hair. He then releases me from the frame and tells me to dress.
My clothes, which are still just my travel shorts, T-shirt and sandals are sitting on the rear bench. I put them on as we pull back out on the roadway to Departures. He then gave me two pills and a bottle of water. These are the preventative meds like I took after my last trip.
While I’m taking them Dr. D says, “You are to keep that plug in your butt until you get home. Call me as soon as you arrive as I will have instructions on what to do with it. In case you are wondering, your ordeal is not over yet. I rented you until Midnight and I plan to get my full dollars’ worth out of you. By the way, the contract is midnight Pacific time, not Eastern time.”
We pulled up to the drop off point and the side door was opened. He hands me a small travel bag and tells me it contains my boarding pass, wallet, keys, my meds and the meds regiment like he gave me last time, plus some toys that are in a sealed black bag. I’m told not to open the black bag until our call. As I step out, the van’s sliding door is quickly closed behind me and they pull away hurriedly. I glance back, and smile while thinking that this ‘abduction’ isn’t over. I headed into the terminal.
Chapter 25: Online Torment
The trip home was uneventful from a travel standpoint. My mind on the other hand was swirling. Back and forth it went from what had happened all weekend to what he was planning for me back home. How was he going to enforce it? Maybe I’ll just ignore him. No, if I do that, I’ll cut off any chances of coming back. But do I want to come back? I don’t want to at the moment, but I know my own yearnings for this bondage and abuse will come back strong before long. I’ll do as I was told.
I tried to sleep on the plane, but other than nodding off for a moment or two a few times, it didn’t happen. I grabbed a bite to eat during my change of planes in Denver. I arrived home a little before eleven pm, but that meant I was still owned for another four hours, Pacific time.
I called Dr. D on his special private number, where he told me to set up my portable computer on the counter in my master bathroom and that we would have a Zoom teleconference. We would also initiate a program between his computer and mine that would give him control of mine from his.
With both programs set up as he asked, we communicated for the rest of the night via Zoom. As he came up on screen, I saw he was dressed for his role, wearing leather pants with an open crotch, allowing his ample privates to be fully exposed. The rest of his ensemble included an upper body leather harness and cap.
His next order was for me to strip in front of the screen and then to bend over and show him my butt hole so he could verify that I was still sporting the tampon. Seeing the string dangling from my hole the examination was passed.
He then asked if I had a variety of items, and if so, to bring them to the bathroom. His list of wants included a clear glass mixing bowl, transparent shipping tape, a bath towel, and scissors. He also wanted some of my bondage toys, specifically a spreader bar, a short piece of connecting chain, four padlocks, leather wrist and ankle cuffs, two spring clothes pins and some lube. Curiously enough, I owned all that he asked for and I went to gather them up, naked, and returned. He also told me to bring in the toy bag he sent with me.
I was then told to open my email and retrieve an app he had sent me. I loaded it onto my computer as instructed. It loaded easily enough. I came to find the app would give him control of the mystery toy he sent.
Then it got interesting. I was commanded to put on the ankle cuffs and lock them to the spreader bar, with the bar adjusted to keep my legs spread just enough that I was stretched, but not excessively. Next up was to put on the wrist cuffs and lock them to each end of the short chain. All the locks were keyed alike and the key was to be put on the counter. I was to kneel on the floor in front of the screen and camera with my knees on the bath towel folded so that it would cushion them. Wow, it was unusual to be afforded a comforting luxury during my submission sessions.
As I set up my self-bondage, Dr. D’s mate and submissive came into view, dressed only in a full leather body harness and collar. Dr. D then began to secure his sub with ankle and wrist cuffs to a similar spreader bar and wrist chain like I now wore, then he had his mate assume a similar kneeling position.
I was told to throw the key to the locks up onto the counter sink. I had plenty of dexterity in the way I was now secured to be able to retrieve the key and manipulate the locks to free myself when done. My bondage, while real, was escapable so this was more mental than physical.
When we were both prepared, his sub began to suck his master as I was told to lube up and masturbate until I climaxed. My ejaculation was to be directed into the glass bowl. My hand bondage set up gave me plenty of arm mobility, so physically jacking off wasn’t a problem. My problem was mental. I was told to keep my eyes open and watch Dr. D being pleasured. Unfortunately, watching a guy getting a blow job by another guy is more of a turn off than an arousal element for me.
I had to concentrate on visualizing the things that excite me and eventually I got there and spurted my load into the bowl. I had permission to cum, so I wasn’t concerned about that, what bothered me was what was to become of the bowl contents. Sure enough, what I thought would be next, was. I was instructed to hold the bowl up to my mouth and lick it clean with my tongue. I was to do it so that he could see me licking through the clear bowl.
Since I began my adventures on trips to their BDSM world more than a year ago, I’ve been forced to eat my own cum. And I know that as soon as a guy cums he loses much of his sexual yearnings for a time and doesn’t want to continue to play until he recovers. So, to the point, for the moment I don’t want to lick the bowl. Actually, I don’t want to ever lick the bowl unless as part of a BDSM bondage scene.
I wasn’t sure how Dr. D would punish me if I didn’t do what I was told, but I knew he had already thought it out. So, to safeguard myself, I forced myself to complete the task. As I looked up, I saw him gleefully smiling as he had watched my hesitation, consideration of the consequences, and then pushing forward to please him, my body language speaking loudly.
His amusement is in the details as he dreams up these activities for his submissives, the see-through glass bowl that allows an unobstructed view of my nauseating tongue lapping is an example, my mental frustration is another. This Zoom session is being recorded, my cum consumption and matching revulsion visibly chronicled for posterity.
It turns out ingesting my cum would not be the most disgusting part of my evening. As soon as I showed Master the glistening clean bowl, I was told to put it on the floor in front of me. I was then to reach between my legs, grab the string and pull out the tampon. It had been in me for what I guess was six or more hours, yet it still came out relatively easy. It had swelled, doing its job of absorbing the semen that had been deposited in my ass. It had also become discolored from its original cotton white to a murky yellow with a significant smear of brown at the upper end.
I was then told to put it in the bowl and pee on it. I usually pee a little after I have cummed, you know, to clean out the pipes. But this was hard to do, I experienced a shy bladder as I knew I was being watched, compounded by the deep concern of why I was to pee on the tampon. With effort I did get some urine to flow. It caused the plug to swell even more, interesting to watch, absorbing most of my minimal discharge.
When I was done my next instruction was to open the toy bag sent with me. In it a found a Centipede 416 power box, a large metal electrified butt plug and a tube of conductive lube. With Dr. D barking out orders, I lubed up the plug, painfully inserted it into my sore back hole until it closed around it and connected the leads to the box.
This was a bulbous plug with a thin neck, it wasn’t coming out without me pulling on it with a firm grip of my hand. Another cord was connected between the box and my computer. Dr. D then initiated the program on the computer that allowed him to control the electro setup. A couple of quick tests showed that he had command of a powerful and effective electro-shock toy that now resided within me. This was how he could discipline me or simply entertain himself at my expense from the other side of the country. I’m not familiar with how all this technology works, but it did work.
Then my fear of what was sitting in the bowl came to be. My next order was to pick up the string and put the tampon in my mouth. The look of ‘No’ showed on my face and I was shocked hard enough to almost knock me off my knees. My expression of appeal was answered verbally with a “So you need another shock?”
I reached down, picked up the dripping, swollen tampon, opened my mouth, closed my eyes and laid it on my tongue, leaving my mouth wide open with the string hanging out. “Close your mouth tight, pull the sting out until the plug is against your teeth and make the string droop down from your lips so I can see it. I comply. Now, get the tape and seal your mouth closed with at least five wraps around your face and head. I don’t want anything to drip out from your lips. I just want to see the string, the tape and your horrid, anguished expression.”
I again comply, doing my best to not press down on what is sitting in my mouth. Upon completion of taping my mouth closed with six passes of the roll around my head I hear “Perfect.”
My tongue registers the taste immediately, I have previously learned the taste of piss, the taste of lube, the taste of cum and the taste of me and its all there. Me being more abundant than most previous exposures. Makes for unhappy thoughts.
The urine taste is most prominent. At least it’s mine which is more tolerable than some previous sessions that were mixed pee. The blend of flavors is not pleasant as to be expected. It’s not long to where my jaw muscles relax and the tampon is lightly squeezed causing a small but steady flow of liquid from the swollen cotton pad down my throat, joined by my own saliva that is trying to clear my mouth, rinsing the pad.
I am now set for the next few hours of play. My interactions involve Dr. D’s running various programs through my butt. His mate is similarly electrified. He runs the programs in tandem. The toy can deliver the gambit of pleasure bordering on euphoria to pain/pleasure to outright pain stimulation. These are typically connected to what I see he is doing with his sub physically as I watch from my required submissive kneeling position.
When his sub sucks him, we both get pleasure stimulation. The euphoria programming that borderline equals edging me occurs as he gets rimmed by his sub and the pain shocks come as he whips and paddles his sub. They take breaks at times and then my screen switches to videos of my own previous bondage and sexual abuse sessions from Dr. D and his pals and my butt gets a rest.
Through it all, I know that I dare not touch my member, which at times swells. Whenever Dr. D catches that I am erect or getting there, he shocks me hard until it shrinks. On three occasions I am hit so hard with the shocks that I am knocked off my knees into a fetal position on my side on the floor, leaving one leg up in the air. I do my best to quickly regain my kneeling position otherwise the intense shocks keep coming, faster and harder.
It’s odd, the thought of using safe words never crosses my mind. Later I think of how stupid that is. Yellow just slows down the action. But at that moment of each attack, I just endured. I get that some people reading this think I’m a sick puppy or just a plain fool. Maybe I am. But when this ends in an hour or two, I’ll resume my normal persona; that is one of a competitive, assertive, hard-working, successful, Type A businessman; a married family man, a friend to many, and a civic minded good all-around guy Then I’ll get that itch again to de-stress via subjecting myself to this to submissive masochist play.
I can deal with submission till midnight to finish my lease as I agreed. I’ve endured and accepted the pad in my mouth. The taste has gone away like well chewed gum. It’s now just there. My butt has survived its stimulation too. I find that I wish for Master and sub to take more breaks as watching tapes of my own abuse is more entertaining than watching them interact even though it is also bondage play. Even though I have seen the films of me before I am still amazed at the sexual use I faced, the bondage positions I was secured in, and the punishments I endured.
“OK Cunt, in about eight minutes it will be midnight, and you’ll no longer belong to me. You’ll again be Sir Michael’s bitch, until he lets me have at you again. I do have some other ideas and needs for you. I’ll set them up with him. Now, for the last seven minutes, I’m going to run a program that will light up your ass like you never experience. Something I promised your master when we agreed to the rental. What you do after midnight is your business, until then just watch the highlights of your last trip.
A video takes over the monitor. It features me experiencing the most painful punishments and restraint positions of my first visit to Vegas. As it begins to play my butt begins to buzz. It started slowly but it builds and builds till I have a raging hard-on as now all my innards are dancing with the vibes radiating out to my balls and cock. The sensations change constantly, up and down, shooting through all my internal muscles teasing, zapping, pulling, contracting, tantalizing, building and building.
I get warm and then cold sensations and back again. There are bursts of energy and then retractions. Sometimes there are pulses, other times rhythms, waves. I’m being tickled, squeezed, poked. My muscles clench around the invader in my ass, hating it, loving it, trying to crush it, expel it, make love to it. It is delivering constantly changing, intense internal vibrations and actions that I have never felt before and it is unbelievable, it’s like a rock musical is playing in me. I try to divert my attention to the video, but I can’t.
My body is shaking, I can’t stop twitching, my breath is being taken away, I can’t control myself, I think I’m going to lose control of my bladder and bowels. My mind is begging for it to stop yet wishing for more and more. It’s powerful, it’s wonderful, it’s painful, it’s making me delirious. I am bouncing up and down on my thighs. Out of control, I’m involuntarily sucking hard on the tampon in my mouth, extracting what little liquid remains.
It is reminiscent of the Sybian scene I participated in the day before where her pussy was overstimulated, driving her insane. I’m on the verge of climaxing without any physical hand stimulation when the program adds to the mix violent bangs like a Fourth of July fireworks finale which knocked me again to the floor where I spasm out of control. I can’t control my bodily functions and pee myself.
Then in an instant the screen went blank, the stimulation abruptly stopped, and my body lay on the cold wet tile floor in a collapsed pulsing/quivering state. It is midnight, Pacific time. I can barely catch my breath. I feel like I’m in paradise but I travelled through hell to get there. I can do nothing for the moment except remain there in shock.
The Sin City Weekend was officially over. I had survived. I had agreed to the provisions of the contract, but what they delivered via their interpretations of the document was much more severe than my mind’s fantasies had contemplated. My limits stretched as the masters had promised. I had been forewarned.
I lay there on the floor for probably a good five minutes before I could do anything. I finally gathered enough control and stamina to sit up and lean against the bathroom sink cabinet where I removed the tape from my face and pulled out the nasty tampon and placed it in the bowl. I released the wrist cuffs and then the ankle cuffs. I rested for another few minutes as my body recovered.
I think to myself I must lick up the piss on the floor, then stop as I’m no longer in servitude. I’m back in control. My dick is still somewhat hard from that just concluded magnificent erotic over-stimulation of my body and the thousands of thoughts of the concluded weekend’s activities that are running through my brain.
Serving as my own master, I first got up and gargled. With my mouth refreshed and my legs beginning to be steady; I headed for a richly deserved and needed shower. The hot water is fantastic on my back. As I lathered up with soap, my dick enjoys an ejaculation controlled by no one but me. A snack and a deep sleep in my own bed without restraints followed. Cleanup would wait till morning.
Epilog
This journal was completed much sooner after the weekend ended than my previous journals. For one, it’s easier for me to do it as I can more quickly come to terms with what was done to me. Second, I’m more comfortable at writing about what happened to me and my initial writing in the journal is no longer a cold engineer’s list of activity details and thoughts but more of descriptions and captured conversations that can be transformed easily into this writing style.
And finally, Dr. D is more demanding than Sir Michael as a Dominant and he wanted it done, setting a deadline for me. I’m not sure with the rental period having ended if I was obligated to obey, but if I was to be rented again to him, I didn’t want to risk what a future punishment might entail for my failure to do as he requested.
I still do not know Dr. D’s real name or the address of his home. The same goes for all the others that interacted with me on this odyssey. I want it that way as part of my real-life fantasy. Anonymity also serves as a safeguard for the other players for questionable acts they perpetrated on me. Without it they may not have been willing to use someone who was bound and helpless to resist regardless of the contract permissions.
Dr. D and I first communicated only through his and my friend Mike, i.e. Sir Michael. As our relationship, then friendship, developed it made sense to communicate directly with each other. We each set up a new private email box to send notes to and shared our private cell phone numbers. We have continued communicating since this servitude rental ended.
There is a true friendship now. But in support of my fantasy, his dominance over me with bondage and sexual exploitation is still negotiated between Sir Michael and him. Now that we talk/write regularly, we do discuss many subjects. The real glue though, admittedly, is our shared BDSM fetishes and are the root of most of our conversations.
In one of my post-visit conversations with Dr. D I learned I was not the first person to take a ride up the flagpole, although I may have the record for the longest duration on the cross without release. It was shared that at least one other has spent a full night on the cross, brought down just before daybreak. The others had shorter durations. Both male and female detainees have been to the top. All were solely nighttime events but mine.
The flagpole has been there for over two years. It was an idea dreamed up by one of the other masters and was a gift to Dr. D and his mate by that Dom and his sub. The method of restraining us was the same, supported by our arms and chest straps, but more so by the seat rest, some of us with plugs, some without. The cross is adjustable to a person’s body height. Being strapped to it can become very unpleasant over time and causes aches and cramps from position fatigue, but this is unlike a real crucifixion on a cross, which is severe and whose ultimate purpose is death.
I was not expecting my servitude to continue after I reached home on my last day of rented enslavement. Post conversations with Dr. D confirmed my belief that the tampon activity was to see if I could/would remain submissive to him after I returned to my home environment. In hindsight, I am glad he did.it. It opens the door to possible future BDSM interactions with Dr. D that are challenging and thus fulfilling to my needs and wants without a constraint to travel to Las Vegas. We will see.
The remote electro punishment ability is something that will make this work for me, as discipline is a necessary feature of BDSM Dom/sub playdate. A method to remotely control securing devices would be important too. I hope he has an answer for that. Being in bondage will always be the driving force behind my fetish, without it I don’t think it will work for me. I know there are remote controllable vibration toys on the market, I own one.
All that said, I’m still processing all that happened to me this weekend. It was different and more risky but not necessarily more severe than my first two west coast adventures into the BDSM world. I’m pleased that I have been able to accept most of what was done to me and I am coming to terms with the rest quicker than my first two trips.
My primary hangup that remains relates to the pleasure I enjoyed watching the bondage and sexual use of the female sub. I really wanted to be physically part of it and yet I didn’t want it either. Mind torture. Plus, it can be argued that I was physically participating with her when I was made to take cum dripping from her pussy, made to swallow her piss and shooting my load into her mouth which she swallowed. But all was done with us never physically touching and me always bound. A quandary. I know Dr. D’s position. Mine changes regularly.
I would love someday to chat with her about what she thought about what she experienced, and if afterwards, did she love or hate what happened to her or did she simply accept her role. Was this her fantasy becoming her reality or simply a turn on of her Dom? Is it the BDSM submissive service that really turns her on, the pain, the abuse or she is just sacrificing herself to keep her man pleasured? How does this match up with my experience this weekend?
I know I won’t ever get that chance to converse with her. I will never know her identity, nor will she know mine, but I will always remember her and those soulful eyes. Regarding her being raped, it was later explained to me that in their specific Dom/sub relationship it was her desire/wish to have no say in anything he wanted to do to her in both her bondage and in her sexual use. If it brought pleasure to him, it would be desired and acceptable to her. By established pre-agreement she need not be asked; he could proceed with any act with implied consent. So, the multiple raping was just something to endure as part of the lifestyle she relished with her master.
At first, I was also processing some issues of contract violation with ‘fisting’ as an example. It was a hard limit and what was done to me is what I thought fisting was, they were exploiting a naming technicality along with my trust. But I have since rationalized that I only put fisting on the list because I thought it would be horrible. It wasn’t great, I didn’t like it, but it wasn’t horrible. My issue was the contract exploitation through a play with words, they knew the intent. However, the primary purpose of the contract really is to protect me from harm and none was done, they were just having fun with me, so I have just decided to accept it and get over it. That may be foolish and wrong.
Since my wife went to Europe, she and I chat each day by phone. My journal scribe time in the morning aligns well with her dinner-break time. It is the time of day when I usually call her when I am back home. Dr. D was fine with it and encouraged me to call her to avoid questions about my whereabouts. This worked out well as our conversations were generic and didn’t ever cover where I might be or what I was doing. So, my guarded secret remained so. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, oh so trite.
As with the last trip, Dr. D sent me the video recordings taken during my stay. I was surprised that there were two cameras in the van that recorded all that occurred there and these had sound. Previously noted in the body of the journal I also received videos of higher quality exhibiting my rope tutorial session. These were the raw cuts and included the soundtrack.
I’m told they are being edited and polished into individual clips of each roping demo. Things like my ‘yellow’ call are going to be left on the editing floor. Watching all the new films, like the other recordings from my previous dungeon visit, is hard and gut wrenching as well as exhilarating and arousing. They were again helpful in completing this story version of my journal with accuracy, accounting for all that happened to me and capturing my physical, mental and emotional states as different events occurred throughout the weekend.
All the members of the Common Bond Social Club are healthy, clean, and safe and tested quarterly with those tests arranged and reviewed by Dr. D, who is a board-certified medical doctor. Maintaining control over their lifestyle including hard limits on risky exposure, i.e. they limit their sexual contact to those within the club, is part of the covenant of their fraternity.
I have been added to the club’s highly limited allowable contacts, with them knowing I am a monogynist outside of being with them and also that I am now tested quarterly with the result going to Dr. D The other boys and the mistress who played with me in the van and at the pool party/glory hole are friends of Dr. D who also have a safe sexual lifestyle but are not within the tight controls of the club. That is why some were required to wear condoms and others not when penetrating me, all under Dr. D’s oversight.
He gave permission for unprotected sex only when he knew they had a current tested clean bill of health. Of course, I wasn’t made aware of the particulars until afterwards so that the experiences I had would be edgier and filled with anxiety. My friend Mike, that is Sir Michael, has indicated on many occasions to me that Dr. D and his mate are highly respected and a leader in the Vegas gay community, and his playmates follow what he says and limits that he sets. His moniker of ‘Dr. D’ is only used within the confines of the social club.
None-the less, to assure my health and safety Dr. D prescribed and provided me with doxycycline, a post-exposure one dose pill that will prevent common STD infections from establishing themselves. He also provided me with HIV PEP, a post-exposure prophylaxis, which functions as a morning after type pill for the prevention of HIV if you were exposed. This one requires me to take a pill every day for 28 days, which I did. As I did after my last trip, when I finished the med regiment, I got tested to assure that I am healthy. That just occurred and the results show that I am clean.
Dr. D has an infatuation with punishing his subs with urine degradation. We all have our fetishes; this is one of his. My first introduction to this was by Sir Michael in San Diego but was based on a Dr. D’s suggestion. On my previous trip to the dungeon, it included a serious forced, large volume consumption. This weekend didn’t escape such amusement for him.
Each time has been more creative, adding a new twist to its use and misery. The consumption of the female pee from the Sybian ride could even be described as tantalizing in a way for me. His peeing in my mouth was no big deal. Not so was my final at home episode which was to my distress a combination of urine, cum and filth. It was wicked and disgusting play, but it caused no harm or pleading to stop.
It is not something I look forward to doing again. Also, on that list is rimming, riding the horse, and sucking soiled cocks. I don’t like to admit to these dislikes as I am fearful that if I come back to play here again, Dr. D will incorporate these items as a lark back into my servitude. I list them here solely at his insistence following his first reading of my original draft and noting the absence of like and dislike lists. Believe it or not, while I really don’t want to do it again as it did hurt and scared me even more, being suspended by my cock and balls is not on my most dislike list. I find the video is one of my favorites to watch.
He also required a favorites list to be added. Topping that list was being secured to the floor under the bound sub’s pussy as she was fucked again and again. Watching the action and her expressions, knowing she couldn’t stop the assaults was unbelievably exhilarating. I could have done without the cum dripping into my mouth, but it was worth the trade.
A very close second, if not a tie, was watching her as she was strapped to and abused by the Sybian. Watching her orgasm uncontrollably time and time again until her body collapsed in her bonds naturally aroused me to incredible heights.
Rounding out my top three, I think, was hanging from the flagpole. The session was way too long for sure, but it was none the less amazingly creative and rousing from the bondage perspective.
Probably on this list should also be the last five minutes of my home/on-line servitude when my butt was electro-shock with an amazing pain/pleasure music/dance program that gave me one of the most intense euphoric stimulations I have ever had inside me and then to the rapid change to the pain shock finished while still rocking me that knocked me off my knees and threw my already convulsing body into violently rebounding pulses and tremors, causing tears of both joy and agony to run down my face. I would have surely cummed without any physical action on my part from the totality of the stimulations if they hadn’t abruptly ended at the stroke of midnight.
And surely, the ‘sounding’ should be on the list too. It rivaled the euphoria of the aforementioned electro stimulation. I did have an abundance of good times in my servitude.
My physical recovery took a few days, longer than my previous trips, with most lingering aches being my perineum, my hole, my shoulders and arms. The aches, manageable with Tylenol and a smear of diaper ointment in the hole, was related to my extended time on the flagpole cross and my hour on the horse. Surprisingly, I had no aches in the area from which I was hung from my privates. My mental recovery came much faster, I had no real issues to process other than the questionable interaction with my female playmate.
Wrapping up, the actual bondage and subsequent use I endured for this weekend was more than anything I could have fantasized. You may find it beyond belief, but it did happen nonetheless. BDSM served up by real practitioners to a willing fool. The contract was stretched to its limits, interpreted at times in ways not to my benefit. I got what I wanted and needed, a respite from my hectic, demanding role as a COO by assuming a submissive role at the hands of BDSM masters. I have no regrets. As a result, I am ready to succumb to my urges again and come back to be bound and used. I’m also curious about what may arise via on-line adventures. Time will tell.
Additional postscript
I have just been made aware that I have indeed been rented again, the deal set up between the two masters (my only input being asked for my wife’s return date from Europe and my dates of availability before then). Apparently, Dr. D is building something new to support one of his mate’s fantasies and he wants to test it out on me first. I don’t know what it is, but he needs me for multiple days. He is arranging my transportation, has since provided a departure date and is picking up the tab. I’m promised more details, but for now this is all I know.