On Display to Thousands · Part 6

On Display to Thousands · Part 6 (6/10)
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e is as she is dressed, reinforced by her saying ‘sorry’ to me as she steps away. Her master then mumbled something on the order of ‘Do you talk to your toilet at home?’

Chapter 19: Back to the Party I had a good fifteen minutes to savor the current urine flavor in my mouth before the boys came to end my torment. My release is worked by two teams on two different floors. First, one group pulls off my hood, then my release from the mouthpiece assembly is quickly completed. I couldn’t believe how good it felt with it removed. With attention so focused on what was coursing down the tube, my body didn’t register a complaint about how tight the facepiece gripped my head.

As my ankles are unlocked and separated from below, the collar is unlocked from above so that the doors can be slid away from my neck. The Second-Floor team then assisted me out of the vault. My legs are unstable and weak. I feel bloated and sluggish. My stomach certainly unsettled. My wrists remain secured to my waist. I’m told to open my mouth and chew the three Tums they place on my tongue. Their fruity flavor clashes with the bitter pee taste. A straw is then put into my mouth, and I’m told to suck down a full bottle of water.

When I finished my drink, I’m commanded to pee one more time into the diaper. That was tough enough to accomplish while standing there in the group, but the bastards then pulled off the saturated pad and placed it over my head, making it my new disguising hood. I am then first marched down to and around the first floor Grand Room where many are socializing, then back up to the playroom, being paraded past all the congregated guests as my escorts say repeatedly, ‘Make way for the Toilet Sissy Boy’.

I have a wet diaper on my head that limits much of my vision, but I can still see people turning their heads especially as we enter the dungeon. And I hear the laughing and mocking at my expense. Humiliation play is not part of any of my fantasies, and this does bother me. I know it is all part of the game. I know I can rationalize it away. But it still disturbs me.

There is a fairly large crowd now assembled in the playroom. It’s a party. Some are using the dungeon as intended; most are socializing in small clusters. My masters make a point of walking me around, introducing me to each of the groups as ‘Sissy’, just back from bathroom piss duty and I am here with my bound body to fulfill their sexual needs.

Outfits vary from heavy leather to simple casual evening dress. I see no food tables, but some guests have drinks and snacks. That tells me that while the party is throughout the home, those in the playroom are here to play or to watch the show. Not all, but most are here as couples. A lot of Gay Dom/sub couples. Some are more obvious than others. However, there are a couple of straight Dom/subs too, male/female. Both that I see, the male is the Dom. Of course, I have no real idea of what is scattered throughout the house, my vision was somewhat obscured when on tour.

I had feared that I was a featured component of the entertainment. The introduction confirms it. I’m glad the diaper is hiding my identity, but I much prefer my hood back. I am moved over to the back wall where the wall mounted Sybian is located. There they unlock my wrists from the belt, the belt is removed, but the cuffs stay on my wrists, A chain about twelve inches long secures them back together in front of me. The ankle cuffs receive similar treatment. And my diaper is replaced with a full hood again with open eyes and mouth.

They finish by putting the electric dog collar back on. I’m not sure why they feel the need to test it, but Dr. D does. It works, my body spasms and my knees buckle. They grasp me and I don’t fall.

“What a wimp, Sissy. That was only on ‘three’. You know it goes to ‘ten’. Want to try that?” states Dr. D. I just let my head hang. They are not looking for a reply, I hope. While I know I must serve anyone here at the party, that’s contractual, I feel like I am under the control of Master D, Dr. D, and Sir Michael all at once. That’s tough mentally as much as it is physically.

I am then sat down in a folding chair looking at the wall set-up. Once there, a group of three tormenters begin to ice down my cock and balls till my shaft shrinks to nearly nothing and my balls recede into my groin. A very small locking heavy metal chastity cage with a dastardly removable urethral sound is shown to me by Master D and then they capture and cage my shriveled penis. Even with my average cock, getting this on is challenging. Mercifully, they squirt in some lube before finishing their work with the insertion of the sound.

My dick is very uncomfortable. I know if I get excited it will be much worse. And this speculation is tested immediately. This time Sir Michael takes the lead.

“I want to introduce you to a business friend of mine and his slave wife,” says Sir Michael.

It is the third male/female couple I have interacted with today. Encounters with women always play psychological games with me. That is usually my master’s intent. Payback for this straight guy playing in the gay world.

I’m not sure where these middle-aged men find women in their twenties to be their bondage sex slaves, but here is another. This one is just like the previous two, very nice-looking. This one an All-American-Girl look that conflicts with her costume. She even looks familiar to me. It makes me nervous; I can’t place how I may know her.

She has been outfitted all in black patent leather with full length stiletto boots, the heels not too high, tightly laced wired corset squeezing her waist and pushing up her fully exposed lovely breasts, collar with leash, cap, and wrist and ankle cuffs. Her nipples and her clit are pierced and adorned with matching silver rings. Her restraints each similarly connected to each other like the ones I wear. And she has ponytails, no makeup and the obligatory BDSM shaved pussy. Hot, very hot. My kind of girl. My dick is already stirring and its cage is resisting.

Sir Michael addresses me. My friend wants you to torture his slut’s pussy with the Sybian. He has his reasons and we owe him. You will lube the dildo. You will help secure her to the wall. You will operate the controls. You will ride her up and down till she has had climax after climax. He has instructed that he wants her screaming, her eyes rolling back and her body shaking until she collapses. This is to be done by your hand and as such you will clean up any mess she makes. You won’t ever physically touch her, so I am good with this, I don’t care if you are or not. Finally, if we don’t see her constantly bouncing between ecstasy and utter torment, Master D will shock you into submission, got it?”

I nod begrudgingly, shocked at what he demanded of me, and alarmed at the forceful yet gleeful tone in which it was said. He’s getting into his role again.

Chapter 20: Sybian Ride I am handed a small tub of coconut butter to use as lube, and I coat the Sybian dildo and vibration pad till both are white and glistening. The chains have been removed from her cuffs and replaced with lengths of rope. Two other men I don’t know lift her up and hold her over the Sybian saddle, as Master D and another hold her legs in a spread open position. Her Dom lubes her cunt, inside and out. He spreads her lips as the team lowers her onto the rubber dick that will soon spin deep within her.

She squirms a little, trying to get comfortable as her arms are pulled upward and wide. I have been stood up and moved to one side of her. They give me the rope to her right cuff.

“Tie her off tight, Sissy,” I am told.

I begin the task reluctantly, but as I get into it, I find myself getting aroused and enthusiastic. I use a taut-line hitch, a knot I know well, throwing in an extra two overhand loops to make this reliable tensioning knot even stronger. I adjust the rope with the hitch to pull out any slack, and as I do, I find myself pulling her arm extremely taut. My adrenaline is flowing. Then with malicious intent I add two half hitches at the end so it can’t slip or fail.

“Now, do the other, just like that,” I’m ordered.

I scoot around her and tie off the second arm, concerned at how much I am involved and how much I’m enjoying it. I try to avoid making eye contact with her. I am required to do the same for each leg. The resulting ties have placed her in an upright very stretched spread-eagle position, with the only thing holding her body weight is the Sybian pressed against her pussy.

If you are not familiar with a Sybian, it is designed to stimulate the clitoral and vagina with intense pleasure and beyond. It has a large upside-down U-shaped body that houses strong electric motors. These drive the vibration and thrusting motions of the nubbed and textured saddle and the changeable dildos. When played with by a user who self-adjusts the control device module, while squatting down on it with their knees and feet resting on the floor, they can bring themselves to ultimate pleasure and orgasm riding the amazing toy.

However, when a woman is bound to it as this slave now is, it will be absolute torment of her cunt, her body, and her mind. I was forced to witness it live before while bound back in Vegas. This time I have played a much more active role in the team binding her. It was my knot skills that have made it impossible for her to escape the Sybian.

And so, my mind kicks in with guilt. Not for the young lady, nor for the boys’ planned abuse of her. I can convince myself that she wants this, at least for the moment. She wouldn’t be here unless she really sought to be sexually exploited and used. She’s a BDSM bondage slut for sure. Yes, she deserves this. At least my heart and mind want to believe that. Which is impossible for me, I really am not misogynistic, quite the opposite.

It’s my marital guilt complex I’m dealing with. I may not have touched her physically, but I know the ties are mine. I know how exhilarating it was to me as I pulled the ropes taut and finished them off with knots that would hold her that way for the duration. I felt my dick try to expand; even though it couldn’t. So, it is the marriage remorseful element playing in my head, soon to get worse as I haven’t even begun to manipulate her ride.

I am sent back to my chair and handed the controller. It has two on/off switches and two adjustable rheostat knobs. One knob and switch controls the dildo rotation speed, the other the vibration of the saddle pad. Both are independent and when properly set to a woman’s liking can make her a very happy girl. That won’t happen.

“Get to it,” I am told, as a quick lite shock hits my neck.

OK, It’s her or me. With the tingling still resonating from the collar, it will be her. Not only a decision I can live with, but it’s also one I am about to thoroughly enjoy.

I start with the vibration on low. She has an immediate reaction and smiles. The smile won’t last long. She adjusts herself the little she can as I start the rotation. I let her sit for a minute and then turn both elements up a bit. Still very pleasurable for her. And for me too. She looked hot before, now spread wide, tied to the wall by my doing, being vibrated by me, I am having an incredible, sexually exhilarating time. This is so much more than hot. And the guilt feelings rear their ugly head again. My aroused sexual desires conflict me. I know this is wrong on so many levels.

Another minute passes and I nudge up the intensity of both elements. She is still enjoying herself. A lot now.

I hear her murmuring, “Yes, Yes, Yes.”

Again, up a little. I think we have hit her sweet spot. She starts to vibrate a little, a climax seems to be building. I let her enjoy it for a moment or two.

I hear from Master, “Take her up Sissy.”

Without hesitation, I move both controls up another notch. This pushes her to the climax she was working at. She is in bliss. And I know this isn’t acceptable to my Masters, so up again it goes. You can tell she is not happy. It is interrupting her orgasm, throwing it off the track. Her body reacts with shakes.

A minute later, up again. I hear her first plead, “No, please turn it down.” My immediate reaction is to do the opposite, and both knobs are again adjusted upward. You can hear the Sybian roar as does she in response. I am kicking myself for enjoying this so much, but I keep performing as I was instructed. I put my anguished mental thoughts aside, and dwell on just my animal instincts, with my dick trying so hard to become erect. The cage just won’t allow it. I know I would be rock hard now otherwise.

I send her higher, this time only with the vibration. The Sybian gets louder and so does her protests. “Please no, please, no, no, no, no, please. Pretty pleassssse, my pussy can’t take this, pleassssssssse” she is screaming as her body is spasming and jumping around, tears cascading down her face. I look at my group of masters who are all gleefully standing there. Her own master gives me a turn it up again signal. I do as the crowd watching grows.

She is pulling for all she is worth against the ropes; they surrender no liberation. Her groin shifts back and forth, grinding across the knobbed pad, seeking any kind of relief from the torment. I respond by twisting both knobs further around. She is sweating, drooling, tears running nonstop down her face. She is making animalistic noises, grunting, huffing, sometimes they are gurgling, guttural sounds. Her breathing is so labored she has trouble catching her breath. My damsel in distress begins to concentrate her intense look directly at me, with grim, pleading eyes as she is begging me to back it down.

Now as I watch her, I’m sure I’ve seen these eyes before. I try hard to recall. Is she? Maybe. Yes, I think she may be the same girl forced to ride a Sybian in front of me on my second trip to the Vegas dungeon (reference, my journal “A Risky Return to Sin City). I point to my neck collar and turn the vibration knob up again, hoping she understands. I will be no hero for her today, old friend or not.

Her dancing on the machine has drawn quite an audience. Each time I turn it up, they cheer. Her begging and pleading were first directed at her master, then me. Now its God. “Oh God, please stop this, God please, please don’t make me cum anymore, don’t make me cum, oh, oh, please don’t make me cum anymore, no more, no more, no more, I can’t stand it, God please, I beg you, please! God forgive me. God I’m a slut, a filthy cum sucking slut, I’ll be your slut, I’ll suck your holy dick and ass, anything, please God just stop this, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, please God, please, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, can’t, I can’t go on anymore. Please.”

My response, one more turn. Then I hear her scream out, “Oh no, I’m going to pee myself, please stop this, don’t make me pee in front of everyone,” she begs.

With urgency I am ordered by Dr. D in his loud, no nonsense, get it done now voice, “Sissy, get down under her, pull off your hood and open your mouth wide. If she pees herself, you are to lap up what she spills from down below,”

I set the controller down without turning it off and I lay down directly under the Sybian. She has already started to uncontrollably piss herself. Urine is dripping down the sides of the toy and hitting me in the face and shoulders. I do my best to capture what I can with my mouth and tongue, but it is coming down everywhere. My face, hair and neck are all getting drops of golden rain from above.

And for the fourth time today I am consuming a woman’s pee. Four times from three different women. What’s wrong with me? This is so immoral, isn’t it? I tell myself to concentrate on the illusion, on the fact that I’m being forced, on the restraints, the shock collar, but it is the beautiful pussy that I know is dancing above me that captures me….

She has gotten silent, but like her bladder, she has no control over her body which continues to spasm, twist and bounce. The view from below is different from the chair, not as good, but still exciting. She must have emptied herself as the drips have subsided. I am ordered back to my chair and my hood put back on over my damp hair and face with the comment that I can come back and clean up the floor later.

I have been free up to now to make her Sybian adjustments on my own, but now I am getting requests from the peanut gallery assembled behind me. I know I must listen and act on the voices. Mostly it is to run her up and down. Sometimes it is to turn it off, wait a moment or two for her to let her body relax and as soon as it does, turn it back on at maximum intensity.

I do as the boys call out. It is driving her insane. Her body is completely out of her control and is failing her. She is gasping for breath. Her eyes shift from dire to almost blank. Her violent shaking changes to a steady trembling, her screaming and pleading are now just moaning and whimpering.

I’m not told to stop, so I keep answering the requests. I am human. Her plight is getting to me. I want to stop, take her down and hold her tight. But I dare not do anything but keep it up. Her own master is here, watching, enjoying the torture of his slave. He’ll know when she has reached her absolute limit, I hope. I’m sure they have safe words.

I take her up on a slow ride all the way up to the maximum. She is there about thirty seconds, her body back to intense shuddering, when her eyes roll back and she goes limp in her restraints.

“That’s good, you can shut her down, she’s had enough for today,” says both Dr. D and her own master in similar words almost simultaneously. I act instantly; the unit is off. She is left to limply hang there for a good five minutes, while the audience applauds loudly, the silent Sybian saddle holding her still penetrated pussy tight. She is humming quietly to herself. Her eyes are closed. She has a smile.

I, on the other hand, am ordered to ‘get down there and clean up that mess’. It’s not much. Most fell on me and has almost dried. There are three, make that four, small puddles. I make quick work of them while some of the boys undo the knots I had tied that held her tight. She is taken down. A naked limp ragdoll. For a moment she must straddle me, whereas I look up and can view her completely ravaged cunt. It is red, raw and very wet. And beautiful.

She is exhausted and has no strength to hold herself up. The boys help her walk away. As she does, I hear her exclaim softly, but repeatedly, “Thank you, thank you. That was amazing. That was the best. Thank you…”

I am directed to the Sybian penetration attachment still proudly standing upright and told to clean it off with my mouth. I am so dancing on my mental edge. I am licking and sucking clean a dildo that was just in the pussy of a woman who is not my wife. It is well loaded with the abusive orgasms she endured time and time again and I am told this is morally fine. The dick has essence of her womanhood, but that is equally countered with the taste of the coconut lube, regardless, I am conflicted.

When finished I am moved over to the far opposite side of the playroom, a fair distance, this is a large room. They have moved the pegging bench over here. It faces a very large wall mounted LCD TV. It must be an 85 inch. My cuffs are removed, told to mount the bench and I am strapped down tight.

Master D then shows me something and asks, “Do you know what this is? Ever used one?” I’m not familiar with it and shake my head no. He then says, “It’s called the Gobstopper. It’s a new style of open mouth spreader clam gag. It came from the European Bondage scene. I have found it very effective. It makes access easy for the Tops as there is nothing outside to be in the way. See these top and bottom clams, they fix behind the teeth and when I turn these wingnut knobs, it will spread your jaws wide. It works slick. Open wide, and I’ll show you. See, I just screw the claws apart and your mouth opens as wide as I like. The gag’s not going anywhere without me loosening the screws.”

He’s right, my mouth is wide open, and I cannot close it and I cannot dislodge the device. Tight clean fit. The clams are plastic coated, it’s not uncomfortable, at least not right now. I start to drool. This is also not a demonstration; he has meant for it to stay in my mouth for the foreseeable future. Thank goodness he didn’t screw it too far open. I wonder what will be next.

Chapter 21: No, This Doesn’t Make Me a Cuckold Master D then announces to me, “We have a treat for you. We are going to make one of your biggest fantasies come true. A sissy like you can’t satisfy his hot wife. You know it, we know it and she lives it. You always selfishly cared about your own wants, but never hers. You never asked, never tried. You also have subconsciously known she’d like nothing more than to be fucked by real men with real cocks that can overfill all her holes. Something you have failed at time and time again. Sir Michael recognized her needs. You know they talk all the time. He extended her an offer. I’ve never seen a woman leap at a chance so fast.”

“She’s here in the bedroom behind me. She knows what you’ve been up to out West. She doesn’t seem to be very happy about it. Sir Michael asked her what her needs and wants were and she shared them. It is fun to see someone that’s been deprived of sexual satisfaction for so long, jump right in and be willing to try something that she herself would never in her wildest fantasies believe possible. So just as your best friend Mike has turned your fantasies into reality, we are making hers come true, here and now.

“She had a few requests. One, that you had to be there bound and forced to watch and unable to stop it. Two, you were to see what you haven’t been ever able to do, satisfy her, as real men can. Three, she wants everybody here to watch you squirm, scream and suffer while still making the setting intimate for her, considering she may be a little nervous the first time she is done right. That last one would take some thought to deliver. And yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have pissed her off.”

My first reaction, that this is another show they are putting on for me. I’ll play along, make this fun, enjoy their effort. If in it they sexually abuse me, well they were going to do that anyhow, so go with the flow. But some of what he says rings true and that he says my wife is here, as farfetched as that sounds, even at a one percent chance, makes me nervous and concerned. And that quickly, I begin to get sucked in.

He goes on to tell me that logistics became a problem, but they feel they had a good solution. He tells me my buddy, Sir Michael thought it would be fun for him to take you up the ass as you watch. Everyone’s first choice would be to have me in the room too, bound to the bench, up close to the bed action, but it is a small room to provide for her intimacy request. It just wouldn’t be possible to do both. So, since we were going to stream it anyway for the other guests here to watch as she wanted, they would just set me up outside the room to watch and be available for use at the same time. He adds that I’m not to worry as I will still get to interact with the players up close and personal.

The monitor comes alive. On screen I see a covered mattress and boxspring on a bed frame with no head and tail boards. There is a pile of pillows nestled on the bed. And resting against the bed naked is my wife. Her legs are spread wide, and her hand is massaging her clit. She is smiling and excited. She is staring right at me. I sense a small group i

On Display to Thousands · Part 6 (6/10)
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