On Display to Thousands · Part 4

On Display to Thousands · Part 4 (4/10)
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And he keeps at it, doing marvelous things to my cock and balls, while stuffing my mouth without gagging me or causing any other undue duress. Even though I have shot a load not too long ago, he gets me to climax, and I ejaculate into his mouth. When he has sucked and licked all my cum that he can from my tired penis, that bastard turns around on me, puts his mouth on mine. Initially I keep my lips tight, but he just lets what he has collected in his mouth dribble down on mine.

He dismounts me and takes a seat in a nearby chair to begin his monitoring duties. I keep my lips closed for the longest time. I just don’t want to deal with swallowing my goo again, not to mention his saliva. But as I start to fade into sleep, I unconsciously relax my lips and the inevitable happens. And with my mouth, tongue and throat coated again I fall asleep.

A shift change must have occurred sometime while I slumbered as I was awoken a third time by someone licking my penis. Everyone’s technique is different so I can tell this isn’t Sir Michael nor my last watchman/partner who sixty-nined me to orgasm. It turns out this is his replacement. They had both been given permission, maybe specific directions from their Doms, to enjoy their time watching me.

This guy enjoys sucking dick. He enjoys swallowing all the cum he can extract from his suck job, the more seed the better. He’s heading for disappointment as my balls have been emptied three times already this evening. He is talented though and is able to make me rock-hard. He works long and hard at it. He never gives up. My dick would rather not play at this point. But his persistence wins and he makes me shoot once again. He milks me well past a comfort point as he tries for more and I squirm in my tight wrap to his delight.

He swallows his small reward. For the first time this long night I won’t be ending a rendezvous with eating my cum. He is now in the watching chair. I can hear Sir Michael snoring next to me. It will take a while, but I do fall back to sleep. This time I won’t be interrupted till morning.

I wake to the cold feel of shears working to free me from my wrap. Sir Michael is doing the cutting. Once free of the plastic, he unlocks and takes off my leather cuffs. He makes quick work of it and my stiff body is now free from any bounds. As I am allowed to sit on the edge of the bed to stretch out my limbs, I am given a bottle of water. It is wonderful to refresh my mouth. It has been tasting foul all night.

Chapter 12: Getting Ready for the New Day The sun is brightly coming into the room. Seems they let me sleep in. I am picked up from Sir Michael’s assigned guest room by my rental master, Master D. He brought handcuffs with him and puts them on me, my hands now secured behind my back. He tells me its not for him, but for me.

We are back upstairs in the dungeon where I am given my freedom, be it only within the confines of it.

“I’ve fixed you a blueberry/spinach smoothie for your breakfast. It’s got honey yogurt, bananas, protein and energy powders in it too. (California health food people, oh wow.) Don’t worry, we didn’t screw with it, though your good friend Dr. D did suggest we put a pee head on it, but I didn’t. I also have a granola bar for you. I don’t want you to have too much in your belly, but I do want you to be energized. You have a long day and evening ahead of you. My partner and I always throw a big party this weekend. You should be well used; you are somewhat of a novelty in my dungeon. And my group of friends always like something new, better yet, someone new. Someone that is new to it all. You’re perfect, thanks for coming”

He continues, “I’m going to leave you and go have breakfast with my other guests. Drink your smoothie and eat your bar as you work on your journal. Then shower and cleanse yourself. It's in your best interest to do a good job. Shave, brush your teeth, take your meds and anything else that is part of your morning routine.”

He then gives his final instructions, “When done, you are to cork yourself with the butt plug you’ll find sitting on top of the bigger cage. Its large, but with effort, you’ll get it in. You’ll like it, it’s a vibrator with multiple settings. Put it on high pulsing, that should be entertaining for you. Get in the cage and lock it closed. You’ll see the open padlock there. I have the key. Inside the cage there will be a pair of handcuffs. Put them on, hands behind your back. The party starts at about noon. We’ll be back before then to get you ready.” And he leaves.

I follow his instructions. The smoothy was tasty. Busy night last night so there was a lot to record in my diary. (Sorry, that’s why this story is so long.) I did a thorough job in the shower. Made sure all was cleaned up afterwards. I noticed that the special urinal was, as before, unmanned. I’m not rushing but not taking my time either. I know that there are cameras throughout watching me and I don’t want to be punished for dallying. He expects me in the cage sooner than later.

I wasn’t offered any lube, so I assume the plug is to go in without it. I wet my fingers with my saliva and tried to paint my hole with them. Then I do the best I can with my tongue to lude the plug. I turned it on. Vibration always helps with bearing the pain of insertion. Still, it is work pushing it in. As promised, its large and the final twist and shove is excruciating. It takes a moment or two to catch my breath.

I get into the cage; thankful I have been given the larger one. This one will give me a little room to move, the other there would be none. I maneuver myself so that I am in what I hope will be the most comfortable sitting position, then close the door and lock it. One last task, I snap the handcuffs on my wrists, behind my back in accordance with my master’s wishes.

And I sit. Caged and cuffed, butt being desensitized by the erotic buzzing of the vibrator plug fills me. Plenty of time to ponder, fantasize, worry, even de-stress. That is one of the primary reasons I’m here. That, and because I love bondage and these guys turn fantasy into reality.

No clock, but in thinking it through afterwards, I calculated that I was caged for two, maybe two and a half hours before the boys entered. So much contemplating that I never got bored with my predicament.

Chapter 13: Humanely Suspended as a Usable Party Decoration Initially, I remain caged as people enter the Dungeon. Most of the ‘Club’ members are here as are a few people I don’t recognize. Seems like they are all planning, organizing, and setting up for the afternoon and evening events. Some are working together, some individually. For example, three guys are assembling a pipe and rail fittings system. One of them might be a sub as it appears they are sizing it for him or someone his size.

Eventually, Master D and Dr. D came for me. They pulled me out of my jail cell and marched me to the bath facility, hands still cuffed behind me, vibrator still doing its thing. I am taken directly to the special urinal where I am told to pee.

The fixture has been manned. I will find out after the weekend that it was Master D’s own sub. There is also someone sitting on a folding chair in the corner, reminding me of a bathroom attendant. My warped mind, considering the current circumstances, ponders how I am to tip him as I have no pockets to hold change.

Instant shy bladder. I am under the watchful eye of two men who are holding me and someone watching me from behind. I am about to pee into a fixture that will drain into another one’s mouth. Both those thoughts shut me down. The strong vibration in my ass doesn’t help. My failure to perform doesn’t please either of them. And they came prepared. Master D has in his hand a mini-livestock shock rod, i.e. a tiny cattle prod. No warning, just a simple and powerful shock to my right butt cheek that buckles my knees.

“Think you can pee now Sissy?” barks Master D. I try, but not fast enough to suit him and I get a second jolt to my left cheek, this time making me collapse against the porcelain urinal. I stagger back upright as I am sternly warned, “The next one will be on your ball-sack if you don’t get to it.”

I don’t know how, other than from utter fear, I start to pee. It wasn’t a lot, but certainly a stream was produced. Selfishly my mind is more concerned about my own well-being than the person who is now being forced to drink my urine. I’ve been forced to drink both my own and other people’s urine before, not pleasant.

Handcuffed and my shock-shaky knees barely supporting me, my handsfree aim wasn’t perfect. That meant I had a little mess to clean up. I’m pushed to my knees and told to lick both the forward rim of the bowl and then the tile floor in front of it. The rim is cold and wet. The wetness is me. Well, I hope it’s just me. There is also a pubic hair which now sticks to my tongue.

As I do the floor, I feel the urinal’s eyes staring at me. I take a quick guilty look at him (I assumed it was a him) and return to my task. Bending all the way to the floor while on my knees without my arms, it is difficult not to smash my face as I tongue the floor. So, it certainly doesn’t help knowing I am being watched by those eyes. It also doesn’t help that my escorts pick this time to turn off, then roughly pull the plug from my butt.

I swear they are two pees in a pod, as one says to the other. “Think he wants to lick this clean too?”

To which the other replies, “Why wouldn’t he?

And so, they pull me upright with my hair. and into my mouth goes the plug that has been vibrating my rectal track for the past two plus hours. Nothing stays clean under those conditions. At least my mind is off that hair.

I am then escorted back into the center of the dungeon. I am told to sit on the floor where I am uncuffed, hooded, and then bound by ropes. The hood was a loose fitting full headed leather piece with open eyes and mouth. I was told that its purpose was to keep my anonymity with the guests who would be at the party. Odds are that absolutely no one would be there that would know me, but for my own ease I would be covered.

The rope work is done by an expert. On my second visit to Las Vegas, I was used as a model for rope ties in a set of bondage training films. This guy was the instructor.

He ties my right leg first. He starts by placing my leg through a loop at the end of a four-foot webbing strap. He then secures my ankle to the back of my upper thigh with rope using five, maybe six, lashing loops, then clenches the loops with a few tight frapping turns to create a basic frog tie. The strap loop now held tight within the crook in my leg. This is then repeated on my other leg then similarly done to my two arms.

Next up he ties a multiple loop bowline around my mid-section and a second one around my neck. For the non-Boy Scouts reading this, the bowline knot is primarily used to create a fixed loop (in my case multiple like sized fix loops) at the end of a rope. It is a good non-slip knot. While both the coils around my body and neck are loose, the knots are tight while retaining the desired slack in the loops.

I am then moved with the help of three other guys to under the rope hoist. The suspension bar has been removed and replaced with a large ring. It is lowered down so that it is a few feet above me.

The four straps that were secured in the crooks of my legs and arms each have a carabiner fastened to their leading ends. They are snapped onto the ring and then adjusted so that all my limbs are pulled toward the ring at equal lengths. The waist and neck ropes are then secured to the ring so that they are the same lengths as the straps.

With little fanfare, I am hoisted upward off the floor to about waist height. I am very surprised but there is very little stress from the suspension. My weight is equally distributed to the five primary suspension lines. The neck rope’s primary job is to hold up my head. It does so without any constriction on my throat. The boys even make some minor adjustments to the rope and strap lengths to make the load well balanced.

Again, while I wouldn’t call this comfortable, I am bearing no real body stress. That’s a good thing, as I will hang here for a substantial amount of time. I am told I am serving multiple purposes. As I am right in the center of the room, for the guests who enter the dungeon I am a display piece, sort of artwork, sort of eye candy, sort of precautionary warning to submissives. I am at work height, and anyone who would like to use either of my vulnerable holes are invited to do so.

I am warned that any guests may elect to use my defenseless privates and body. That is the Host’s desire, I’m to serve as his party favor to the guests, his gesture of thanks for their attendance, a sort of memento of the occasion. (No real need to remind me, the way I am tied, stretched and hung, my planned use by others seems obvious.) To boost my growing angst, I’m shown a collection of floggers, whips and electro toys they have set on a table beside me ‘to correct any behavior deemed worthy of modification’. Then it was added, ‘or just because it’s a hoot to be able to torture the straight sissy’.

Chapter 14: Hanging Around Serving the Guests I am surprised at how many different people come into the dungeon over the course of the afternoon, evening and night. Of course I am not hanging there the whole time. It probably was no more than two hours. I was taken down, not so much because of the suspension stress, but because the rope ties should not be endured for much longer than that. Besides, they had other uses for me.

I was busy while I was suspended. My butt was visited multiple times. I could usually see my attacker. Two boys from the ‘club,’ penetrated me for a couple of minutes of fucking as they happened by. I was also fucked by three people I didn’t know. Rules must have been expressed to them, as they all used rubbers. Which upon completion of there fun were left on my chest. One filled with cum from the only fellow that went all the way to completion. He got me swaying quite a bit as he pounded me.

My mouth was used three times. Each one of them were boys of ample size, much to my dismay. Why does it seem that most gay men have big dicks? And one was my own Sir Michael. He must have been playing with others already as he did not taste fresh. The other two had rubbers on. Rubbers have their own unsatisfying taste. They certainly weren’t flavored condoms. No one cummed in my mouth, I’m grateful.

None of my whippings were due to poor service. But I was whipped. Mostly with a riding crop. One menacing looking guy, decked out in heavy leather, played havoc with both my nipples and my balls. His lashing stung like hell. He knew I was to be called Sissy and used it with his derogatory comments that accompanied his assault.

Turns out my position is well suited to paddling too as another guest reddened both my butt cheeks with a string of swats. Hitting the same cheeks another used his bare hands. Much to my relief I received no shocks or other electro play.

I was fucked, orally used and whipped, but most of the boys merely came to look at me. While they were there, they would rub my body, tweak my nipples and most often, fondle my balls and cock. I got mostly positive comments on my body. Many suggested what they would do to me, but now wasn’t the right time. Two asked if they could also ‘rent’ me for a weekend. I took it as a rhetorical question not requiring an answer. In fact, I remained silent the entire time.

Chapter 15: Next Assignment, Pipe Rack Service I was taken down and untied mid-afternoon. While up in position I was certainly featured entertainment. However, there was much going on around me too. Mostly its was Dom/sub couples making use of the other furniture. I watched one younger guy put in the pillory that I had already suffered on. He too took his licks in both a stern whipping and then a hard pounding in his hole by a well-endowed much older master.

Another couple made use of the St Andrews cross. He was tied so his back was facing outward. I have always been secured face out. His howling indicated his lashing was fierce from either a flogger or whip, not sure which was used.

There was some kind of tutorial going on with someone strapped to the pegging bench and three people behind him discussing methods of hand work. There was enough other buzz from conversations in the room that I couldn’t really hear what was being taught.

Much more was going on, but my own bondage, a hood that inhibited some of my peripheral vision and frequent use by others limited my voyeurism.

My next stop would be the wall. As they begin, they change out my hood with a half hood, this one is a more firm fit than the full hood. I’m told it will still conceal my identity unless someone is here that knows me well. And, for the first time this weekend, I am gagged. A sponge is put into my mouth, and it is secured by electrical tape wrapped multiple times around my mouth and head. Very effective, I am mute.

They then ‘mounted’ me to the wall. I was set up in a rig that secured my arms spread downward, my legs pushed upward and spread, my bottom projected outward and my shoulders and back pressed to the wall. It took three guys to hold me while two others ratcheted the bolts that secure the pipes around me. There is a lot to this assembly. Understandably, as it had to provide the support and the restraint to hold me firm and open in the air, jutting out into the room.

The position was not very comfortable, unlike my rope suspension, and had my ass situated in the air where it could be easily played with and penetrated. And as such, over the next hour, maybe closer to two, my free and available butt received no less than six different cock visits. I’m still the host’s party favor, just in a different spot. The total times my rectum has now been used are adding up fast and I have become sore and stretched, but luckily no tears or other damage. Most guys apply lube and that is my saving grace.

Two of them belonged to Dr. D and another Club master that was here without his sub. And four were the dicks of new ‘friends’. No one asked permission, they just took me. My group knew that was acceptable by my contract. The word must have been shared as the second four, likewise, also took me without hesitation or caution, except for the wearing of protection.

While I have gotten used to being pegged in my ass by other men, I still don’t get any erotic pleasure from it. In many conversations over the years with Sir Michael, he laments about all the nerve endings in the sphincter being stimulated along with the pressure on the prostate, but I just don’t feel it.

To help, I concentrate on my inability to stop it. I focus on how I’m secured; I even try to struggle to the extent that my bonds allow. They know I want to be tied tight, and this rig accomplishes that in spades, so that leaves me little that I can do to resist. None-the-less, when my body attempts resistance and fights back it seems like an added turn on to them and they get more forceful in their actions and commentary. Crazy, but that makes it exciting and fulfilling to me.

In between two of my fucks on the wall, two other guys that I didn’t know took to whipping me with a single tail. Usually, I am striped with this kind of whip. These two seem just focused on whipping my genitals, mainly my cock head. They took turns. The discussion between them seemed focused on how to just barely hit me so that I would flinch but nothing more. Unfortunately, especially for one of them, there was a hard learning curve in improving their skill sets.

I am hit hard, wicket hard, and often, too often. So much so that I am straining at my confinements and screaming out. The pipe restraints don’t budge, and the gag muffles my sound. The tears are mostly hidden by the hood. Lash and lash again lands on my member. I try signaling them to back down by flexing my hand and rapid wiggling of my fingers, but they are so focused on their whip actions they don’t notice.

Thankfully, I have watchful eyes on me. Dr. D steps in and says, “Stop, he’s had enough.”

They stop immediately, and one says to Master D, “Sorry, we got lost in what we were doing.”

The second, concurring, says to him, “Yeah my bad, sorry, really sorry.”

These guys are all Dominants, maybe at different levels and experience, but Doms. Not one said sorry to me, they said it to my current owner. I am still in significant pain, but that realization of my place puts a smile on my face. Both Dr. D and Master D then come up to me.

Master D, in a gentle voice, whispers in my ear, “Sissy, are you OK? Do you need to be let out? I am sorry. They are too…”

That is followed by Dr. D saying with care and maybe a little coaxing, “we won’t let anyone else mess with your cock if you want to stay in the rack, are you Green?”

Green is one of my safe words; it allows the activity to continue. I’m still hurting, but it is subsiding. Dr. D is a good judge of my boundaries. He’s here, he prides himself on helping me find my limits, he makes me dance on the line but backs me down as needed. I trust Dr. D, foolish as that sounds. My current Master seems to be a good guy, too. Sir Michael, my best friend, is also here. I feel safe still. I give a thumbs up and play continues.

The only other torment I took on the pipe rack worth noting was when a party guest pinched off my nipples with the application of tweezer clamps, then pulled the connecting chain taut and twisted it back and forth while someone else ran a Wartenberg multi-head pinwheel over my chest, all happening while I was being fucked in the ass by one of my new friends.

Teamwork. They indicated that they were going to keep it up till I made their friend climax. Selfishly, it was the first time on the rack that I used my learned tricks to help stimulate my rapist. He wasn’t necessarily in a hurry, but now I was, and in time and after many passes of the pinwheel, he did shoot his load in me, safely contained within his condom.

Chapter 16: Rest, Dinner, Ultimate Service After my ass was taken for the sixth time, I was taken down from the rack, moved over to the large bed, put on my back, secured by cuffs on my wrists and ankles to eye hooks on the sides and told to take a quick nap as I will be on my feet for the next few hours. I am asleep quickly despite having both a tender butt hole and dick head. The nap does refresh.

I am awoken in a way every man likes to be, getting his dick sucked. I am being serviced by the Club’s ‘other sub’ that came from Vegas with the boys. His primary task is to wake me up for dinner, secondary is to stiffen my cock. His tongue and lips felt amazing even with the rawness of my red welt covered shaft and head. Not sure the purpose of making me hard and excited before transport to my meal. I wasn’t given permission to come, and I didn’t, so that wasn’t it. But it sure could have happened, as I said he was good!

Now collared and leashed, hands cuffed behind my back, head in a half mask and still very naked, I’m taken from the dungeon, down two floors, to the kitchen. I’m served an odd meal, but in a much more humane way than typical for me when in servitude. I am allowed to sit at the table, hands re-cuffed in front, provided with silverware, even a napkin.

My meal was placed in front of me by Master D’s partner whose only word to me was ‘eat’. The food is a bowl of warm oatmeal with sliced bananas, an English muffin with orange marmalade and a glass of milk. I’ll learn later why this breakf

On Display to Thousands · Part 4 (4/10)
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