On Display to Thousands · Part 5

On Display to Thousands · Part 5 (5/10)
Previous · Next

ast cuisine was served as early supper. I was left to myself. Not rushed, I consumed all that was provided, but even alone, still felt self-conscious about my nudity in this very large, chilly kitchen.

I’m done, but I stay where I am as I have received no instructions otherwise. When my masters return, they keep me in the kitchen where Master D and Dr. D change out my bondage. The first thing they do is put me in an adult diaper. Something that sets my mind to wondering. Then my wrists are secured in leather cuffs that are attached to a leather belt around my waist, pulling them tight to my sides. I am also placed in leather ankle cuffs, but for the moment they are not secured to each other or anything else.

A new wide leather collar is also placed around my neck, this one with four rings spaced equally around it. They adjust it so one is in the front and back and one to each of my sides. They attach a leash and I am again on the move.

We exit the kitchen to the stairs with Dr. D leading me. Walking with a diaper on is embarrassing if not strange. I assume we are heading back to the dungeon, but I assumed wrong. We only make it to the second floor. We enter a bedroom and walk over to an open closet. In front of it is a little step stool. I am told to step up and into the closet that has a raised floor, being informed it has been pre-adjusted for my height.

I don’t have to be a genius to realize where I am, this is the shaft I saw under the dungeon bathroom urinal and I know what’s next. And I am instantly horrified by my situation.

“No, please No, I don’t want to do this. Please, please! No! There must be other ways to get your kicks with me. Please don’t make me do this. Please don’t make me a toilet slave, PLEASE!” I plead. But since I didn’t use my safe words, I am ignored by my own contract rules.

“Get in there Sissy and do your time,” I am scolded by Dr. D as I am manhandled up the stool and into the closet. “You know you’ll be punished for that outburst.”

As I stand upright in my new space, my face extends past the ceiling and into the bathroom above. I am looking directly into the eyes of Master D, who, with an unfamiliar partner, is kneeling in front of me.

The two immediately grasp my head and the doors over the opening are slid closed around my neck and latched. Four padlocks are then placed through the rings of my collar and individually locked to steel D-rings welded to the doors, front, back, side and side around my head, positioning my face forward and holding it firm.

The hood is pulled from my head. I can feel my ankles below being locked together. I am effectively secured and I then feel something pressed against my neck, just above the collar, held by Master D’s partner. “That’s the cow prod you feel, I believe you are familiar with it. Now don’t give us any trouble, open your mouth wide or I’ll have him shock you till you do,” I am ordered by Master D. Knowing any resistance will result in pain, great pain, I open wide.

The mouthpiece is inserted as the wide strap is pulled over my head. It is in the shape of an athletic bite guard, formed to sit in front of, over, and behind the teeth. Through the center of the guard extending over the tongue in an oval profile is the open termination of the tube.

The strap is rubber. In front it is tapered to fit just under my nose and extends down to the bottom of my chin. It crosses my cheeks so that it fully encloses my lips, sealing them around the tube.

It is tight. It’s not uncomfortable, it does not gag me. It feels almost like it should be there. I try to blow out through my mouth; it is well sealed. There is a sensation of tackiness in it like glue or something, making the seal even more effective. Purposefully liquid tight.

Breathing through my nose is unrestricted. Thank God. The pressure from the strap is noticeable. I hope that in time that this doesn’t become an issue, like cause a headache or other tension. My hood is put back on.

“There you go Sissy; no one will know you that comes to use you. I know you can do this. Regardless, it’s going to happen. I read how much piss you took on in Vegas. This will be a cake walk. In time you will have to pee, hence the diaper. You are to go; it would be unhealthy to hold in what you have processed. You will be punished if I find a dry diaper when your shift is over. Have fun. I hope this fulfills another of your fantasies. It sure does for me,” are Master D’s final comments.

And he and his buddy walk away. I stand there, trying to get comfortable. Flexing my face. Trying to find the best way to deal with the oval tube in my mouth, shifting my tongue, my cheeks, lips and jaw. It isn’t that bad. The tube and mouthpiece around it were designed for resting in one’s mouth. A rubbery taste, but not unpleasant.

I was expecting immediate use, but that didn’t happen. I wait a long time before anything takes place. The first thing is someone comes up to the urinal, and I hear a sort of clanging noise as something is dumped into the bowl. They leave. It takes a little bit, but it dawns on me, ice. In time, there would be an ongoing drip of water from the melting ice down the tube and into my mouth. Initially, it was even refreshing.

Someone did come in and used the toilet and then took a shower including a douche. None of which I could see, but in a tiled bathroom, sounds transmit well. Someone else came in an used the urinal next to me. I held my breath the whole time he went, praying he didn’t know I was there. He went a lot. I’ve been fortunate so far.

Chapter 17: Ready to Receive, If I Want to or Not My luck finally ran out. I knew it wouldn’t last forever. I can’t see much from my position; the bottom of the urinal bowl blocks much of my view. Close up I can clearly see feet and legs moving towards me. If they come from the right angle, I can somewhat see a person approaching.

Now, someone is coming towards me and it's Sir Michael. No, don’t tell me my best friend is going to do this to me. Then I focus on this: it isn’t my best friend Mike, it's my Dominant Sir Michael. The person I made the original deal to have me bound and abused. Mistakenly, he believes he is making me happy. This will be my third trip West where I’ve been forced to drink him. I keep coming back. Why am I like this?

He is dressed in an open leather vest and full leather pants. He comes up; slowly unzips. I can’t see, blocked by the bowl, but I am visualizing him pulling out his oversized member, holding it, thinking about it then doing his thing into the bowl.

I heard the stream hit the porcelain and the ice, then a trickling sound. It takes just a moment for his flow to be swallowed by the bowl and discharge down the exit tube and spills into my mouth. I knew it was coming, but I still reacted in shock as it entered my mouth going towards my throat. I have been forced to drink pee before. I know its is best to just let it happen and not think, just swallow it like it’s water and deal with the taste and revolt after you get it down. Especially if there is a quantity.

But there isn’t a large quantity, and the ice has made it easier to take on. He is being decent. He sent down maybe two good squirts before stepping aside to the second urinal to finish. As he moves on, he makes a parting comment of, “You know this doesn’t do anything for me, but if this gets you off, who am I to judge, you sick puppy.”

Drinking piss doesn’t get me off, it's repulsive. This is a harsh twist of my desires, implemented by others to exploit my ‘bound and forced to serve’ fantasy. My mind goes into a circular chant to get me through this: I don’t like drinking pee. I don’t want to drink pee. I’m forced to drink pee; it’s up to them’. At any time, this could turn bad, I’m told this is a big party. My bondage use fantasy becomes wildly out of control reality.

And again, I wait. Now with a bitter taste lingering in my mouth. Bound in a contraption one would think would only be found in a bizarre fictional story. Who would ever build something like this permanently into their home? Well, Master D for one.

The next visitor is also known. It is the submissive mate of Dr. D. He is also in leather, a full open body harness and heavy leather boots. His member is encircled by a chrome ring that is part of the harness. He wears a sub collar too. He comes up, and without fanfare pees. More of a steady stream. More than Sir Michael sent. As I swallow the first gulp, my mouth is already refilling. It takes four swallows before he is done, the fourth flowing slowly.

It still wasn’t a lot, thankfully. It does make me a little queasy in my stomach, though. Again, the ice helps. They must know that. I think I hear him shake his dick as he finishes, maybe it is my imagination. And he leaves. My only solace with this visitor is I know as Dr. D’s sub he has been made to drink much more pee than I ever have or will.

The ice drips are now unpleasantly flavored. The heat of the boys’ urine has accelerated the melting a little. I can hear activity out in the main dungeon. Sounds like multiple groups are having fun. Well, some are having fun, some are definitely suffering. I am glad they all seem to be busy and not taking bathroom breaks.

Again, some time passes before I receive another visit. That’s good as it allows my body to process what I have been forced to drink. My next visit is a pleasant shock. I can see coming toward me a sporty dressed man with a naked girl on a leash. As they get closer, I see he is probably my age, but she is in her mid-twenties. Attractive, petite, small breasted. She wears glasses and has a scholarly look about her. She is restrained with an inch wide chrome collar with matching inch wide chrome wrist and ankle cuffs, all connected with chrome chains, a matching leash is attached to the collar. And she is wearing a full chrome chastity assembly.

She is stood back about three feet from me and positioned so I could see all the way up to her breasts. There he unlocks the small padlock that holds her belt fast. He pulls the metal waist belt apart. I see her adjust her legs wider as he slowly pulls down the assembly so that the evil metal plugs that fill her cunt and ass holes slide out. The chastity belt is then sat on the floor right in front of me as if they want me to gaze at it. The plugs are big and gleaming.

She is brought closer to my urinal and told to squat down on the floor and open her legs wide. She does and doing so exposed her fully shaved pussy to me. It is pink, wet and lovely. She has a small silver ring piercing her clitoral hood that matches similar ring piercings through each of her nipples.

Her master then instructs her to pleasure herself. I can’t see her face to see the reaction, but she does as she is told. First using her fingers, she begins to massage and fondle her outer lips. After a minute or two, she takes her fingers and I think moistens them with her mouth and returns to her cunt, starting to massage deeper, penetrating herself. These actions start to cause quiet murmurings of joy as she proceeds.

A beautiful sexy pussy is being stimulated within two feet of my face and I can’t touch it, can’t lick it. I have a natural uncontrollable desire to fuck it. Live voyeurism. Oh my. I feel my dick get hard. This is cruel. And its wonderful. I forgot for the moment about my predicament. I’m enjoying the show. She seems to be enjoying her self-masturbation, as she has become obviously more wet. She knows I am watching her very private moment, yet she goes on undaunted. I then remember, she is doing what her master ordered.

She is at it a while when she is told to finish with her toy. And she is handed an amply sized natural looking penis vibrator. She uses it with apparent enthusiasm, rubbing it against her clit, the piercing, her pussy lips, and then plunging it deep into her wet cunt time and time again. She does this rotation many times, driving me wild. I can feel my body thrusting forward within my closet as if it was my penis she is holding.

Finally, her master barks out ‘get to your climax’ to which she concentrates on her clit with the vibrator till her whole-body shakes and she collapses to the floor. She is only down a moment when she seems to be jerked back up to her feet by her master.

I am still in my euphoric daze from the show I just enjoyed when I hear her master say, “Now, pee in the bowl.”

She is an obedient submissive and without hesitation she shuffles up to the bowl and straddles it. It takes a moment or two, but she releases her bladder. She is a trickler. When her initial drops reach me, it snaps me back to reality. There is a young woman pissing into my mouth. Her slow sweet, salty and bitter flow is easy to swallow. Mentally, its becoming a burden. My age-old battle of coming too close to a physical interaction with a woman other than my wife. By contract interpretation of my masters, this is allowed as there is no physical touching. But I am just a foot away from the girl who is using me as her personal toilet.

In time I’ll work through this, I always do. The masters will punish me for this interaction I had no control over, and I’ll be good with that as penance for me enjoying what happened. Even my current desire to lick her clean.

Her peeing takes a little time as it comes in tiny spurts. She almost seems like she is enjoying this, knowing another submissive is being abused by her actions. Maybe not, I’ll never know her true feelings of what is happening. A good thing, I guess. She finishes. I watch with glee as her chastity belt is buckled after both plugs are reinserted and they leave. Shame to cover up such a lovely pussy.

I am again left waiting for my next visit; it takes a while. Almost like they want me to dwell on my last guest and the taste she has left me. The ongoing drips from the ice keep her fresh in my mind and tastebuds.

After her, I will come to endure three male users, each making only a small deposit before shifting to the second urinal to finish up. Trapped by the neck in this hellish device, made part of the plumbing, a living septic tank, I have involuntarily serviced any customer who choose to piss here, I’ve tasted their expelled waste, felt used and repulsed by the multiple urine variations, but because of their mercy, I have not had my own system overwhelmed, something that releasing their full bladders down my throat would have caused.

This contraption was not installed for me. The owner put it in long before I got here to satisfy a personal kink. Through practice his friends have learned how to use it without causing harm to their victim. This is entertainment for them. Play that usually includes their own friends, lovers, submissives, people they wish no long-term harm. They have learned how to play hard but nicely. I am grateful, kind of. I still rather not play this game at all.

And so, I am treated with some respect, just enough to keep me healthy. And speaking of health, I remember the guidance given to me at the beginning, pee when I need to go. And after the second of the last three users, I need to go. I have never peed in a diaper. Never worn one since I was a baby. I really don’t want to, but I convince myself to get on with it. Another first, another very weird experience for me. It is warm, wet, then dry, peculiar relieving experience.

Chapter 18: Still Not Done Servicing the Guests Planned to be my last for the evening is Dr. D. My limit pusher. The person who has subjected me to harsh piss trials before. A Dominant who is into water sports. Who believes it is a major training element for submissives. He then advises that he was disappointed in my pushback when I was taken to the closet and that I should get ready for my punishment.

He then calls his own submissive to come over. I see his long-term mate come into view. They are both in open leather chaps and matching vests, each of them also sporting a leather thong to cover their members. Dr. D’s instruction to his sub is simple, suck his master’s cock and bring him to the brink of cumming.

He is on his knees, doing his master, something I can’t really see well, but the sounds are vivid. He’s good, something I have personally experienced while bound. He gets Dr. D to his breaking point in a few minutes.

“That’s enough, I’ll do the rest,” Dr. D mumbles in a breathless voice. To which he spins around and finishes himself off with his hand, ejaculating into the bowl.

He rests his one hand on the wall as he recuperates. And then he speaks to me, “I’ve been watching most of the evening, you’ve done well. Maybe I should say this rig did well, you had no choice but to take what it received. I love this, what a great effective design. I’ve got to figure out how to fit one into my place. I bet you’d be thrilled with that.”

He continues, “Master D and Sir Michael did ask everyone to just let you live the experience and not overwhelm you with intake. You got plenty of variety, different tastes, boys and girls, just not huge volumes and we even spaced them out. That’s probably why you kept going without using your safe words to interrupt our fun. Well, you know me, I want to push your limits, so that’s about to change. Get ready for a real drink.”

He then stands back straight and begins to piss. It flows down the tube quickly. I start to swallow, and as I do my mouth is already refilling from his strong, steady stream. He seems to be cleaning the bowl with his pee, and it dawns on me he is trying to rinse down the cum he had loaded in the bowl. The pee is cool; there must still be ice in there too.

I swallow again, and the flow keeps coming, another swallow. I need to take a breath, so I must close off my mouth, which causes the incoming flow to back up. I take another gulp and find that I need to get some control now as my mouth and tube are backing up with his abundant discharge. He is now in the final stages where there is a squirt, a pause, a squirt, a pause, a squirt. And then he is done, I guess.

I assume he shook himself dry, as he has now bent down to look me in the eye. He makes a quick survey, shakes the clear drain tube leading to my mouth and says, “You better get drinking; you have my piss and cum backed all the way up the tube. It’s not going away.”

I close my throat, gulp and swallow, and repeat it, close my throat, gulp and swallow. It’s too much, but there is nothing I can do, like he said there is no way to disperse what is in here but to drink it. I continue to take it down in controlled small gulps, so I don’t choke and drown. It is like chugging a gallon jug of water or multiple beers. Something only brainless people do. Lets think this through, I have voluntarily allowed myself to be inescapably bound, then hooked up to an apparatus that allows people I don’t know to piss in my mouth with no control or ability to stop them. Not sure what is covered in the definition of brainless, but this has to fit.

Under Dr. D’s watchful eye, I finish all of the cocktail he left me. Then he asks me to blink once if I want to stay another hour or blink twice to move onto a new adventure. His excessive volume has brought me to the brink of vomiting. I’m tired of standing, the taste in my mouth is strong as Dr. D’s piss and seed were powerful, and I hate this. It is the most degrading, repulsive abuse they put me through, even if I am getting used to it.

But I try to do what a good submissive would do to please his master, I blink only once. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Was I expecting they would still let me out, not this guy, I should know better by now. Honestly, I am only stupid like this when I am planning for or in a play weekend, otherwise I am quite bright and strong. Hard to believe now.

During the next hour, I am visited three more times. The first is a revisit from the young lady. Girls go frequently, but often not a lot of volume. She is still in her metal chastity belt. This time it is not removed, and she must pee through it. Sadly, I can’t see her privates as she pees. I was curious how much her flow was scattered by the iron protector and how wet she got. I handled her easily, her two visits being the easiest of the night. Between her and the next caller I need to take another pee, and I do into my nappy. A long one. I can feel my own warmness. I can also feel the weight of the saturated diaper pulling on me, nothing has dripped out.

The next pee was unremarkable. I had become so tired from standing so long and stressed out from my situation, I barely remember it. It was again a short pee, and his urine was on the light side, not as light as the girls, but it was way more pleasant than Dr. D’s. Well, pleasant isn’t the right description, let’s call it ‘less gross’.

What will be my final pisser ends up being another female submissive. She is brought in by her male master. She is dressed in all white, her stockings, garter, corset, neck choker and wristlets, all lacey and pure. Another young innocent, that is other than her having fully exposed breasts and a shaved pussy both sporting small tattoos, one reflecting ownership by another. Master is dressed all in black, older than her but closer in age than the last couple. They are conversing as they walk toward me.

She asks, “Do I pee directly into his mouth?”

“No, he’s part of the toilet, you just have to pee in the bowl.”

“I sit on him?”

“No. it’s a urinal, just straddle it, you’ll be fine,” he says in a caring yet no nonsense tone of a Dominant coaching his submissive.

She approaches tentatively. I think she is embarrassed. Maybe just shy. Maybe as pure in mind as she is dressed. Probably not, I’m sure she sucks and fucks her master anyway he commands. She may even do his friends. She is cute, attractive, sexy. If my situation at home was different, I’d love to do her. Her body being restrained, or not. Yeah, restrained would be best. Doing a bound young (but legal) pseudo-virgin would be on my fantasy list. My real destiny, however, will be me being the one bound and used by depraved gay men, then sent home to sleep with my unaware loving wife. Oh well, such is life.

This young thing knows she needs to do as she was instructed. She raises up on her toes so she can straddle the bowl without touching the cold porcelain. In a moment or two of concentration, she goes. Much more than my previous female suiter. Her pee is also mild, more sweet than bitter, not at all salty. And it is warm; the ice must be finally gone.

She must have been holding it for a while because her gentle stream keeps coming. It takes three mouth full swallows to take all of her. By the third, she doesn’t seem quite as mild and sweet. It is urine and it is something not meant to be downed. Especially in large quantities. Hers, mine or anybody else’s. Today’s consumption has moved into an unhealthy range; my body may have issues processing it all. I surely regret agreeing to the extra hour.

To divert my mind from the darkening taste and repulsion of making the final swallow, I ponder on why piss play has entered my life. Only a real pervert or deviant would do this. I’m trying to decide who that is, me or the masters forcing me to do it? Probably both, we’ve become a fraternity, working together to satisfy unfathomable sick urges. Originally, they were mine; however, I’ve long lost control over who they belong to by signing the contract.

I do have a moment of amusement. For her to dry her privates without tissue, unlike a male, she must shake her whole body to make her urethra release the final droplets. It was cute. Innocent. Maybe sh

On Display to Thousands · Part 5 (5/10)
Previous · Next