On Display to Thousands · Part 2 (2/10)
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hing else. My eyes are drawn to his swaying member which is sizable even in its current flaccid condition. Not as big as Sir Michael, but still long and thick. Much bigger than me. I’ll be challenged when forced to suck it which I’m sure will occur sometime this weekend. I also confirm what I noticed when he was fully clothed. He is very fit, strong, and muscular without being overly muscular. A man’s man.
As he checks out my self-bondage he tells me, “Nicely done. You and that pillory are perfect together. FYI, while downstairs, your past Masters and I discussed what to call you this weekend. I understand you are ‘Bitch’ in the contract, but Dr. D says ‘Cunt’ is more fitting. I recall reading in your birthday journal that your wife called you ‘Toy’ but that’s not happening. We did give ‘Gay Play Toy’ a thought, but no. Oh, that thought reminds me, you will be expected to write and post this visit too, just like your other servitude time.”
“Since you like pussy and not cocks, I thought ‘Gay Cock Lover Boy’ would twist your nipple, but Dr. D poo-poo’d my choice saying it would be too long to say in the heat of the moment. Then thinking about our plans for Sunday, you being a straight sub bound and forced to show yourself off to the crowd, the term ‘Sissy’ came to mind. I knew that would piss you off too, since you are such an A-type dominant male in your regular world. So ‘Sissy’ it will be, seeing you have no vote in the matter,” he says cheerfully.
I see I guessed wrong on labeling the douche box. That’s not the only thing flooding my mind. What was that thing he said about Sunday? He walks away and then returns with a blindfold which he puts on me.
“I know you like playing in the dark,” he says.
The loss of sight distracts my last thoughts, as I concentrate on listening to try to determine what is next. It’s only a matter of seconds. Wack. My legs nearly buckle. It’s a hard solid upper swat of the riding crop to my balls. My balls that are tightly held in their sack due to the constricting ball stretcher strap. God, it stings. Then I’m hit again, same spot, just as hard. Three more stings come in. I am now hanging from my wrists and neck as my legs have given out beneath me.
“Good choice, a riding crop to the nut sack is always an excellent introduction to my whipping style. I like that you are wincing in pain, yet you did your best not to cry out. Let’s see if you can sustain that,” observes Master D.
I hear him walking away as an uncontrolled tear runs down my cheek. He returns quickly to attach a clothes pin to each nipple. Then he adds four more pins, one to each side of the ones pinching my nipples. It is subsequently back to the crop. He is assaulting the clothes pins trying to dislodge them with repeated swats. This is far from pain/pleasure. The contract supposedly says no to severe pain, but I think in his mind he is establishing limits and I haven’t called out a slowdown safe word.
I’m thinking about it, now close to uttering it, when his rapid and accurate swings dislodge both secondary pins on the left breast and one of them on the right. Maybe this will end soon and I hold off. I’m trying to mentally fight back the pain. I don’t like the ‘Sissy’ term I’ve been labeled with, finding its meaning different than maybe intended, so I want to tough this out. I’m not a wuss, not a sissy.
It takes probably ten more swats till the other pins are knocked off. The right nipple proved the worst as one hit caused it to hang and swing from the nipple tip before a second blow ripped it the rest of the way off. That final nipple clothespin removal was far more painful than all the other hits of the crop.
“Good boy! That’s the way to suck it up. Now, let’s warm up your buns. I recall you love to be paddled,” he remarks.
Love is a strong word. I may prefer it over other whippings, but it still hurts when delivered. And he does deliver. I’m glad he’s not into making me count each hit out loud, but to myself I count. Ten wicket swats to the left cheek, all in a row. Then a matching ten to the right. I won’t be sitting anytime soon.
“OK, as a final whipping treat, let’s stripe you. Candy cane subs are always a delight to the crowd.” He then takes a single tail whip and works my shoulders, back, butt and then hind legs. The sound it makes as the tale whizzes through the air before the tip slashes across my skin is haunting. And painful as it leaves its red six-to-eight-inch mark, most right to left, the remainder left to right, across my skin. Yes, painful, but certainly less than my ball sack strikes and nipple clip removals. That doesn’t mean my body doesn’t jump and squirm involuntarily when each strike lands.
“Oh, you do stripe nicely. You’ll handle Sunday well,” he says soon after his last swing. That’s the second time he said something about Sunday, and the word crowd was used a couple of times too. Just how big is his party? Something else unknown to get anxious about, I guess.
Chapter 5: Servicing Master D, a New Journey The whipping is done, but not his play time. He is now playing with my butt hole. He is using his fingers, not gracefully and without lube, but I can tell he is wearing surgical gloves. Contract health compliance I assume.
“You straight guys are always so nice and tight. It will make up for me having to wear a condom.”
My butt hole continues to be ravaged by his unlubed forceful fingers digitally raping me. Yet, I am happy as I can tell from his gloves and rubber comment that my health is going to be respected even if I can’t resist this new Master and then hopefully any friends that make up his playmates. When he gets to using three fingers, he finally adds a bit of lube. Thank you, I think to myself. I’m not sure I’m to express that gratitude out loud. Probably damned if I do, damned if I don’t. I take a wait and see posture.
These gay guys love to search out and massage the prostate. And Master D is doing just that. It is forceful yet stimulating. My penis is starting to react; I’m sure aided by the Cialis. Nothing hard, mind you, but stirring. I get fingered for a good ten minutes, then he switches to dildoes. Ones with handles. Mercifully, he adds additional lube. He takes pleasure in showing them to me and informs me, maybe closer to mocking me, that they are all well sanitized and safe.
He works me hard. This is more difficult in the semi-standing position that the pillory holds me in. On a pegging bench this is more pleasant. Well, neither is pleasant to me, but the bench is easier to take. He is increasing the size of the invaders as he goes on, stretching me out. I assume to ready me for the inevitable fucking I’m to receive as the night wears on. I am not wrong.
Master D eventually comes to a stop, satisfied with how wide he has stretched me. To hold the work, he roughly pushes in a butt plug. Not comfortable, not happy. He’s done with making me ready, and he says so, telling me it's now ‘me time’ for him.
He takes a socket wrench and loosens a bolt on each side of the pillory. Then he tells me to drop to my knees as he slides down the crossbar and retightens it, so my face is at waist height. I’m still blindfolded but sense what is coming. A few moments later, he removes my blindfold. He stands directly in front of me, so I can’t help but watch as he slowly strokes his dick making it semi-rigid. He moves to my right and puts his rod against my hand and says make it hard. As a good sub I obey without hesitation (for my own well-being), stroking him the best I can. He does respond. As I continue, he opens a condom, pulls away from my hand and rolls it on.
“Protected just for you Sissy. Both a sissy and a scared pussy, afraid I’ll give you HIV! Don’t you keep current? Ask Dr. D, he’ll tell you most gay men are clean or zero detectable. But I’ll follow your silly contract rules. Now open wide and do me right.”
Being forced to blow him isn’t enough, he feels the need to add more commentary to get my goat as he slides his dick into my mouth, “I’m told you are a journeyman at this, by Sunday you’ll be a master, just like all the Sissies I’ve come to know. Let me be clear, any straight boy wanting to be forced to suck cock is the essence of a sissy. Come to think of it, you’re probably as much a cuckold as a sissy, most likely hanging there right now fantasizing that I’ve just fucked your hot wife as you watched, her loving that a real man just did her, and now you are being forced to suck my cum mix and her pussy juice off my cock. Mmmmm, good, I bet you love that, you cuckold cock loving sissy.”
“You should have brought her along. I read your birthday bondage story. She did you up right, sounds like my kind of cunt. I’d be happy to do her in front of your cuckold bound sorry ass. You know she’d love my cock over yours. Just how could she marry someone equipped with a pre-pubescent wennie like that? So sad. Weren’t you even man enough to fuck her before you got hitched so she would have known? She would have ran out of the bedroom laughing!” he says trying his best to humiliate me. I found it more amusing than anything else.
This Dom is a verbalist. Someone who likes to goad his submissive with disparaging chatter. There is a Dom in the Common Bonds club that does that to me, but in a different goading style. Funny, that guy is one of my favorite abusers as he seems to care about me even more than the others. He really is a good guy despite his constant derogatory belittling words directed at me. I hope Master D turns out to have an inner core of decency too regardless of his outer rough guy banner.
Putting his commentary aside, I try to concentrate on giving a satisfactory blow job to avoid potential punishment. There are multiple things working against me. Of course, the biggest being I don’t like sucking cocks. Second, he’s wearing a rubber which makes all the tricks I’ve been taught for sucking and using the tongue and lips more difficult. And lastly, it is awkward and hard to blow him as the crossbar holding my neck puts me in a bad angle for sucking someone.
But we work in tandem. He holds onto my head and creates the movement. I do all I can with my lips and tongue. It goes well until he starts pushing too deep, which starts me choking and gagging, saliva flowing like a river. He pushes further in, holding my head firm and tells me to control it or he’ll leave it there until I pass out from lack of air.
As mentioned, his dick is ample in size. My mouth is full and now he’s push past the back of my mouth and is deep throating me. I’m in trouble. I try to arch forward my head to make the pathway straight and do all I can to blank out my gag reflex. I’m still getting no air as his groin is tight against my face, closing off my nostrils. No oxygen is getting by his dick even as I try to suck hard. And he knows it.
Seems like an eternity, probably just moments, when he releases his grip and pulls back, fully exiting my mouth and says, “That was fun, not bad for a first try. Don’t worry, you’ll get lots more chances to swallow me. Now let’s try out that tight hole of yours.”
I’m still doing my best to recover, sucking in air, expelling the river of drool, controlling my hacking as I feel him unceremoniously pulling out the plug. I try to look behind me, but the pillory won’t let me get a good look. I surmise he is on his knees as I feel his dick pressing against my hole. It’s already somewhat open from the extracted plug I’ve been wearing. Please God, have him use lube, he’s got a big cock I murmur to myself.
Prayer answered. I feel the cold and slick feeling as he penetrates me. He is taking his time. Going slow, moving in and out a little at a time. I’m stretched from his girth. I’m glad he took the time earlier to stretch me out. It’s making this easier for me. Don’t get me wrong, there is no enjoyment. This hurts. I’m trying to turn it into pain pleasure. And I’m getting there. It helps that I am concentrating on my forced raping while bound fantasies.
He's working me, picking up some steam. It feels awkward though. And he stops.
“This just isn’t doing it for me on my knees,” he says. “I’m going to stand you up again and fuck you that way.” He fetches his wrench, and the pillory is readjusted to put me back in my original standing position. In an instant he is back at my butt, still rigid, and I am repenetrated.
He can maneuver better this way, and within a few strokes he finds his rhythm. He begins to plow me in earnest. I hear him uttering contempt for the rubber, but he sure sounds like he is enjoying what he is doing to me. I can feel him thrusting upward with his legs, using the floor to push to his advantage. My rectum is finally accepting the assault. The pain has subsided. I still feel very full.
I have my concentration back and opt to being a good and willing submissive, trying to please my master. If I don’t make some kind of good impression I may be in for a very unpleasant weekend. I do the tricks my previous abusers have taught me, clenching and releasing, pushing backwards, working against his thrusts.
I’ve made a friend. His previous aggressive comments that I contribute to roleplaying and personal style have changed to positive reinforcement remarks. I’m now his ‘good little sissy’. And he rewards me with his climax and ejaculation, which he complains is wasted as the condom contains it all, leaving my butt cum free.
Being secured in a standing position by the pillory I think I’m safe from having to suck him clean after he has been in my ass. I’m wrong. Master D has wandered away but is back in a minute or two.
“Open your mouth,” I’m commanded. I do. Something is pushed past my lips. “Now close. Yeah, that’s my condom. I added a bit of water to give it more proportion. My cum is in there to provide the risk. I tied a knot in the very end to hold the contents. You are to lick and roll it around between your cheeks till it’s glistening clean. Careful, break it and your fears may be realized. Tell me, how does your ass taste today?”
How novel. Every trip West these people find new ways to abuse me. Certainly, this weekend I won’t be bored. BTW, I must have done a decent job cleaning myself out. This doesn’t taste like many of the soiled items that I have been told to clean after spending time in my own rectum, or in other men’s dark places, for that matter.
Chapter 6: Gross Overnight Assignment I don’t need to twirl the condom long.
“Here, spit that out. It’s not chewing gum, you know,” as he puts a waste can under my mouth. It leaves intact.
I get more instructions; these will round out this evening’s activities. “I’m going to let you out momentarily. You are to go back to the bath, take off the ball stretcher, relieve yourself, and freshen your bottom. You are heading out on a date, make that four dates. I have four Dominants here overnight that do not have their subs with them. I’d be a bad host if I let each of them go to bed with out being satisfied. That would be normally done by their subs, but three didn’t bring them and I rented you away from the fourth.”
He continues, “So, you will be their surrogate sub. I will bind you in a way that you can service them in their bed any way they wish while your twisted mind will believe you are being forced to abide. You likely will spend about an hour with each. Your final date will be your own Sir Michael. You will remain with him the rest of the night. Treat them all as if you are their absent submissive lover. I know you hate it, but kissing was moved from your ‘preferred not-to-do list’ to ‘acceptable list’ long before I rented you, so, suck it up, if they want to kiss, you kiss, it’s in the contract.”
I'd been put in a ‘romantic cuddling’ situation on a previous trip. Hated it, made me very uncomfortable. That’s the problem of being forced to publish my thoughts after my servitude trips. My tormenters find out the things I loathe, and they find ways to exploit that on later adventures. That seems like the derivation of the emerging plot. Forced to act as a personal sub and lover to four other men because I’m straight. To be clear they don’t mistreat me solely for being straight but it is entertaining motivation for them occasionally. And I have come to expect it.
I am released. I head to my chores, different from past trips, I go without restraints, though I’m sure the dungeon is locked tight.
As promised, after I had cleaned myself up, I was returned to confinement. A three-inch-wide white leather belt is locked around my waist. Fastened to each side are short chains that connect to white leather locking wrist cuffs which are secured to mine. The chains should allow enough movement of my arms to pleasure the boys yet make me still feel controlled. He puts on matching white ankle cuffs locked together with a fourteen-inch hobbling chain. To round out my ensemble, I am fitted with a white leather collar. Bad news, it is equipped with a remote operated electric shock device similar to a dog training collar. I can feel its copper prongs pressing against my neck. That just eliminated any freedom of choice the wrist chains granted me.
I am handed the adjustable remote. “Test it.” I am told. With pleading eyes, I look at Master D. “That wasn’t a suggestion,” he barks at my hesitation. I push the center red button and nearly collapse to my knees in agony. Neck shocks are some of the worst. “Be aware that your collar is set at about three out of ten. You will give the controller to each of your dates tonight. It is at their pleasure to use it or not. It is also up to them as to what setting they wish to use. My suggestion is for you to internalize your man repulsions and keep your dates happy and satisfied. Think gay. It’s up to you; it’s your neck out there.”
Chapter 7: First Date “Come on, Sissy, let’s not keep your first rendezvous waiting.”
He snaps onto my collar a white matching leash and I am led out of the dungeon, downstairs one level to the second floor. We headed to the far end of the hallway where Master D knocks on a closed door and we are told to enter. He opens the door, lets me in, unclips the leash, retreats, closing the door with me in the darkened bedroom with my date.
The room is lit with a few candles sitting within glass globes. Additional illumination is provided by one of those modern mock electric fireplaces flickering on the wall. How quaint. In a wing chair is one of the Social Club masters. He is the one I met on my second visit to Las Vegas. He is a rope bondage expert and has used me as a model to teach others how to tie up a submissive in multiple creative ways. A decent guy, but still a BDSM dominant. I stand, my back to the closed door, facing him from a distance.
“Come on over here, don’t keep me waiting,” I’m told.
I shuffle over to him with my hobbled ankles and drop to my knees, taking a submissive posture in front of him with my head bowed and holding the remote out in front of me like an offering.
“Nice. You’ve been well trained. I don’t require much,” he says as he takes the gadget from my hand and sets it on the table. I almost sigh in relief. He adds, “Just get me ready with your best blow job, then I want to take you to bed, fuck your ass till I cum, then I want you to rub my head and neck while I fall asleep as you hold me. When you hear the wrap on the door, slip out without waking me or there will be hell to pay in the morning.”
Nothing more was said. He is still sitting in his chair. I move a little closer and lean in. It is only then that I take full notice that he is completely naked. I’m not sure what I expected, but this is still a surprise. I know what I am to do. I don’t want to suck him off, so I think hard on my bondage situation and fantasize on two thoughts. Thought one: forced, think forced. That remote is right there, don’t perform and I will be punished severely. My mind concentrates on the facts, I’m secured like in my fantasies, locked in leather cuffs, hand and foot. But my mind argues back that I am mobile enough that I can flee. No, he will hurt me, brutally. I must do this; I have no choice. This line of thought works, and I get to it.
He is placid as I start with my hands, cupping his balls with one, stroking his dick with the other. He responds quickly. I give his tip a gentle kiss and start to lick his head and slit. It is unsettling that he has already produced some pre-cum. I quickly switch to my second thought. I close my eyes and just pretend this is my wife’s vagina. I love going down on her. Flesh is flesh to the tongue, if I just visualize her, I can do this. And this helps a lot.
He is hard and with his sounds and body tenseness it is obvious to me he is having a good time. Now, he is getting close to climax. I slow down my pace a little, and that simply makes him take over with his body movements, clasping my head with his hands and he thrusts his hips into me. I let my lips clinging tightly around his shaft to provide the sensation and his stroking to provide everything else he wants.
I am readying myself for the inevitable shot of cum into my mouth and throat, when he gently pulls out, takes my hand and stands up. He then tugs me up and walks me to the bed and motions for me to climb in. That is a little difficult with my restraints, but he assists. That helps me get up and helps him in positioning me the way he wants and that is on my stomach. While still standing beside the bed he lifts my belly and chest, pushing multiple pillows under me, setting me up in a supported semi-doggie style stance.
It’s fuck time and he comes on board and does me. A little lube is applied and his larger than mine, but not excessively big cock teases my opening before he tenderly takes me. Again, I don’t enjoy being fucked by other men. However, he treated my hole to the nicest assault I think it has ever received by my capturers. I think he is really treating me as if I was his own submissive partner who he had left at home. One who he abuses in play but still loves dearly. So different, I usually serve as the Dom’s release outlet for exploitation and abuse that they can’t or won’t do to their own sub.
Don’t be confused, his fuck was for his pleasure. And he got what he wanted; he loaded my ass full of cum by the time he was done. Leaving his shrinking dick within me, he rolled me over on my side pushing the pillows away as best he could and held onto me in a tight hug. During this entire time, he didn’t speak and I wouldn’t dare.
We laid there a few minutes, when he pulled out, rolled over and finally uttered, “hold me.” The two of us must have laid there a good twenty minutes, me holding him in an uncomfortable embrace. He fell asleep almost immediately. It is hard to keep my thoughts on pleasant things as my cuddling him is repulsive to me. I am saved by a soft rap on the door.
“Time,” is all I hear.
I carefully unentangle my arms from around him and slip out of the bed. I glance over at the bedside table, see the remote, and knowing the penalty will be severe if I leave it behind, I pick it up. I guess the thought of safety was also in the back of my mind as I find myself blowing out the candles before exiting.
Chapter 8: Next Date I opened the door to find Master D’s sub waiting. He attaches the leash to my collar, says nothing, walks me down the hall to another bedroom door and knocks on it.
“Come in, it's not locked,” I hear from inside.
