On Display to Thousands · Part 9 (9/10)
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I am doing.
I get it done, though I know I didn’t go much. I am cheered as the bottle is pulled away by Dr. D’s sub/mate. Above the noise I hear someone yell out, “I’ll donate $100 if you make him drink it.” Oh shit.
There is a momentary pause, and Master D answers back, “Make it $200 and we have a deal.”
I am hopeful this guy is at his limit, when I hear someone else call out, “I’ll add the second $100.” I’m screwed.
“Deal. Come over to the side. We will need a little change in the setup.”
A couple minutes pass. I go through another zapping. Master D and a guy that I saw earlier that was associated with the vendor stand mount the stage. They stand in front of me and have a new boxed toy with them, which they show to me.
The vendor guy says to Master D, as he wouldn’t be talking directly to me, “We just started carrying these a week or two ago, what perfect timing. And get this, we had a choice of colors and decided out of all the colors to order a case of pink ones. It’s made by Oxballs WATERSPORT. They make quality functional stuff.”
“This strap on urinal is shaped to fit and can’t leak. The mouth-tube is part of the urinal which is deep and wide with a channel that funnels directly into the mouthpiece. The urinal is lighter and doesn’t have a big clunky funnel and tube to deal with like the traditional ones. It straps around the head tight. It’s much different than your set up at home but we ordered them knowing you and your mate’s kink and other customers for piss-play. We haven’t tried it yet ourselves, so let’s see.”
(Note, I didn’t recall all these details as the conversation was quick, so I checked out Oxballs online as I transcribed my journal so my reporting would reflect what was said and depict its features.)
The new toy’s mouthpiece is pushed into my mouth and seated over my teeth and around my lips, then strapped on. They both depart, then Master D reappears with whom I guess is one of the contributors. He hands him my urine bottle and tells him to go ahead and pour half of it in. The crowd that now circles the stand and has grown over the past few minutes is cheering him on as the pour is made. It flows immediately into my mouth. I have no other course of action but to swallow. I wish they had ice, warm piss, even if its your own, is disgusting. I’m a bit strong today. I’m later told that it’s probably because my kidneys are still processing the urine I drank yesterday. I’m now going to process my own for the third time.
The gentleman turns around to the crowd, lifts up the bottle and takes a bow. His fellow patron mounts the stage to administer my second drink. These guys are all performers. Hence the many crazy outfits many of the visitors are wearing. He is heavily into leatherware. He raises the urinal up high and slowly pours my pee into the collector cup, prolonging the flow into my mouth making we swallow three times to get it down. The total amount was not that much, but certainly more than a sip.
It was a big money maker. Master D left the toy in my mouth till the next changeover a good half hour later. I was fearful the whole time that someone watching would offer their own piss for me to drink for a sizable donation. I know that urine is supposed to be germ free and won’t support STDs and HIV, but still, I don’t want that to happen.
Added to the floggings, striping, fondling, and other dubious but profitable activities for this latest hour was the allowance of the audience to come on stage for a donation to run a Wartenberg pinwheel over my exposed body parts. Not surprising the favorite areas were my nipples, pecs, cock and balls.
With the ball stretcher removed, at least two different men felt fine with grabbing my balls and stretching them tight before aggressively running the multi wheels over my bag. None of which I could personally observe do the tutu skirt hiding their fun.
The final hour also included adding clothespins to my nipples, then subjecting them to whipping with the rider crop to knock them off. The supporters must stand in front of the stage, but with the riding crop’s long handle I am easily reached. They get three tries to knock off a clothespin, for a modest donation of $10. Always trying to keep their customers happy, if they knock the pin off with less than three hits, they tell them to go and take another swat at anything they want. Most of the time it was that same sore nipple. Or of course, my balls or cock.
All good things must come to an end. And the fund raiser portion for me is done. Wanting to end it with a crescendo, these pricks first pump up my butterfly gag, then ramp up the electro plug even higher and run it for five full minutes till I am near convulsions, my begging to stop completely muffled. The audience applauded and cheered the entire time I performed my final pole dance much to the delight of my assembled masters. I don’t know who’s sicker, the guy that allowed himself to be put here to be abused, the dudes who conceived and executed this twisted exhibition or the thousands who have gleefully watched in amazement.
Chapter 30: One Last Tour of the Fair The pole is retracted and ankle cuffs released from the base. My exhausted, sore and limp body is assisted off the stage. The gag is removed, but my arms remain cuffed to my waist. I am sat down on a folding chair, given water, allowed to pee in the jar again and have my ankle cuffs rechained as they were for my last walk. Not done with me, a leather ball separator & shaft harness is snapped around my privates. A leash is attached to the end and drooped over my shoulder. They give me about fifteen minutes to recover my strength and eat a snack.
Nearing the end of my rest period, I am approached from the left, it’s a woman dressed as a dominatrix in black patent leather. She comes right up to me, puts her stiletto boot on my knee and asks, “Remember me?”
I remember her too well. It’s the All-American-Girl I tortured yesterday on the Sybian and likely the one who suffered because of me in Vegas. She is dressed the same as when I last saw her except now her privates are barely covered with a leather G-string. Her breasts are still exposed. She also has added a matching riding crop to her ensemble. Still as hot as ever.
“Payback time Sissy. Do you remember how much fun you had torturing me yesterday, never helping me, no matter how much I begged you? How about in Vegas, do you recall just watching me forced to serve all the men there and me riding another one of those horrid machines, you always looking out for yourself and never me? Well, it’s my turn to do the watching, let’s go for a walk.” she informs me as Sir Michael puts my Sissy permission sign back on, the confirmation that I’m screwed.
She grabs my leash and I am pulled up by my dick and walked back into traffic dressed in my pink tutu, my privates still exposed below it. The crowds are thinning, but there is still a much bigger crowd then my earlier stroll. We again have a team on the walk. Her Dom and Master D. have the forward point. She and I walk side by side, her in obvious control holding my leash, having fun pulling at me. Dr. D, Sir Michael and one other Club master are behind us. I wish I had names for the others, but the rules we play by say no.
My morning trip around the fair was more to show me what it was all about. This late afternoon jaunt is more to have me abused and humiliated by and for the public, The masters will argue this is solely for me. If that was true, why do I hate this, and why does everybody seem to be having the time of their lives but me?
Having a female mistress instead of a male master catches more eyes. We are getting more attention. This is an atypical couple. She’s young, petite, beautiful, dressed as a dominatrix. I’m reaching middle age, arguably well fit with a decent physique, much taller, yet parading as her sissy. Begs for the question of how this match up happened. If they knew the real story, they would be astonished. Actually, I only know half of the story, I don’t really know hers.
I am not gagged but I know better than to talk. She grants permission for anyone who asks to do pretty much anything but have sex with me. And my gropers are being more liberal in their touching, comments and requests. They have been partying all day, drinking too. They’ve been excited, entertained and aroused by the different venues, entertainers and interactions, so they are now not shy, if they ever were. And here I am, available to view, play with and taunt. The mistress motivated to oblige them with her memories of yesterday so fresh in her mind.
My ass was ravaged by the many hours on the pole. That doesn’t seem to be a concern of meddlers wanting to digitally search out my prostate. And they do. They seem to want to pinch and twist my nipples too. About fifteen minutes into the walk, my mistress ups the fun by adding adjustable nipple clamps that are chained together to each of my nipples. Something for the sightseers to pull on and on occasion add a turn to the tightness screws.
One lad (ok, he was probably 35) was very happy with a new purchase (tags still on it) of a large black bumpy dildo with a handle. She granted him permission to try it out, telling me to bend over and spread my legs. Quite a sight with my tutu. He had it well in me and was starting to manually fuck me with it when Master D stopped everything saying it would be considered prohibited street sex.
The disappointed owner then asked if it was permitted to suck the toy in public. Master D pondered on it for a moment and then issued the verdict that he would think that would be OK. So, the ‘now not new’ dildo was in my mouth for a lick and multiple thrusts. When I asked later why other sex was not allowed (thankfully), but fingering was acceptable, the answer was simply that probing me was not that noticeable so the likelihood of being caught was low.
My Dominatrix was also happy to show everyone her skills with her riding crop. She is especially fond of my pinched nipples and of course my exposed cock and balls, made even more vulnerable when she pulls my leash tight with her non-whip yielding hand.
New on this walk too are those that want to hug the ballerina and try to dance with her. With my arms bound this is awkward and difficult. It just encourages them to hold me in a tighter embrace. When held like this, it makes warding off the boys trying to kiss me challenging. I’ll give credit to my masters, they step in quickly and stop inappropriate, unhealthy or contract prohibited behavior. My mistress is less aware of these hard limits, so I can’t blame her when it happens.
And so, it goes on till we cover most of the venue. My body is exhausted and that must be evident. Master D remarks, I think Sissy’s done with the show, he’s earned a rest, let’s rap up and take him home.
We made a final visit to his friend’s booth. They are starting to wrap up too. There is talk of what’s next. Suggestions are made by Master D’s friends to go to some of the popular after-parties at nearby venues. He declines saying there will be an after event at his own place. They are invited back to his home, and many indicate they may indeed stop by.
One of the first things they do to me as we wrap things up is thoroughly wipe me down with antiseptic wipes everywhere I was or could have been touched, other than obviously inside my butt hole. They had done this after my first walk and throughout the day, even replacing the suntan lotion they removed in the process.
Dr. D also advises we will start my preventative med regiment as soon as we get back to the house, adding that he had been watching closely all day and my risk is extremely low. I’d be more likely to catch the flu or a cold than anything else.
My original boots, pants and jacket are put on me. The bastards keep my very fatigued and cramping arms locked to my waist, hidden by my coat. Master D had made a call while we were walking back to the booth, so our private bus transportation was waiting for us.
Chapter 31: Praise and Rewarded at the After-Party Back at the house, I’m taken right upstairs and undressed from my costume. I then am allowed to take a long, hot shower, to which I am given special antiseptic soap as an added precaution. I am also asked to cleanse myself inside, this time with very specific instructions.
I am first to do a short low volume burst of water to clean out any likely feces in my lower chamber. After I expel that, I am to fill myself with a Betadine antiseptic douche they provided me with and to try to hold it in me for five minutes. Finally, I am to discharge that and re-douche as I normally do for a playdate.
I knew the first douching was necessary. All the electro dancing softened me up. Self-evident when I had to lick and suck the dildo on my second tour. The use of the antiseptic rinse was new to me and provided me with some mental comfort regarding my health.
With that all done, I am helped in getting dressed by my Club mates, which amounted to a full leather body harness, slave collar and a leather cap. I at least look and feel masculine in my current nakedness, so glad to be out of the sissified costume. Cuffs are added to both wrists and ankles, each set with ample connecting chains. We head downstairs.
There are plenty of people now back at the house. Thirty, maybe forty. Mostly men. Some couples, some not. Looks like equal numbers of Dom/subs and simple gay couples. I see two of the male/female Dom/sub couples here yesterday including my recent tour guide mistress. Funny to see her back in her sub role. Her pussy uncovered again. There are just a few here that are in outfits that expose some or all of their privates, as we two do, and I think I am the only one almost fully naked and I am self-conscious.
Next up was a good smorgasbord meal being shared with all the guests. Catered. Nice. I was famished and with permission and encouragement ate heartily.
I am intermingling with the others. I’m surprised at how many are praising me for the wonderful job I did today entertaining the masses. Out of politeness, I nodded to acknowledge their comments, but what they didn’t seem to understand was that both in my mind and in reality, I had no control over what occurred, I was unworthy of their admiration. My dancing was involuntary reactions to preprogrammed shocks. The physical abuse that had delighted them was delivered by others to a restrained bondage slave, incapable of defiance. Didn’t they see the pole up my rectum, the wires, my bound arms and legs, the gags?
Finished with food, drink and socializing, the crowd is ready for more entertainment. Some seek their own, it turns out I will be it for others. I am taken back upstairs to the playroom. There I am strapped in the pegging bench which has again been placed in front of the large screen that I had previously watched my ‘wife’ take on five gay men.
I am at a loss. I have been well abused for two days. My body is certainly beat and my hole ravaged. Mentally worn out and frazzled. Then over the past hour and a half I had been treated still as a sub, but in a pleasant, non-abusive atmosphere, intermixing with subs, Doms and the others gathered. Now it looks like I’m right back into BDSM servitude. I thought I was done, yet I am now again strapped to a pegging bench, my holes accessible to all.
As always, there is a reason and a thought-out plan. Many of the party people are called on to assemble around me. Master D is acting somewhat as a Master of Ceremonies. He first thanks everyone for coming. He hopes they all had a great time at the fair. He indicates how the event has raised a lot of money for some very important projects.
He then talks about our own little fundraiser. He announces that we had exceeded our goal of $1500 with the final count being $1870. There is applause. They are told this is more than his small group has raised in any of their previous years. More applause. It has been given, as in all the years past, to the Folsom Fair Organization as part of their overall fundraising efforts.
He thanks all who made it possible. He names them. Of course I don’t know anyone’s real name, so it means nothing to me, other than him mentioning Mike, the one true name I know. I begin to think he’s not going to name me. Arguably fine because I am just a sub. Turns out I was just a little impatient.
Master D then says, “We all know that none of this would have been possible if Sir Michael wasn’t willing to rent his submissive to me to be used at the Pre-Party and Fair this weekend. And gang, we all know that Sissy was amazing. His performance was both incredible and titillating. Who would have thought in this venue a straight guy would steal the show. He took everything we made him do in stride and never once through all our use, abuse and torture did he call out his safe words.”
Continuing he adds, “A real trooper, and amazing slave who I might mention is just a two-year-young, part-time submissive. Sissy, I am so grateful and the whole gang loves you and what you took on. Thank you.” Applause, applause, applause from the group. From my bound bench, I blush.
He adds, “If you haven’t read his journals that tell about his journey, I recommend you do. His masters made him post them online. They too are amazing. That said, I want to give a final thank you to all of you here that opened your wallets to make the whole Folsom Fair a fantastic success today. We all benefit from their missions.
For my mate’s and my personal gratitude for your philanthropy we want to reward you with some evening sexual gratification, BDSM style. Sissy is still under contract to me for a few more hours so his two holes, his whole body, come to think of it, will be available all evening for anyone who wants to use him. His butt may be a little stretched at this time, but as tight as it normally is, I think you’ll enjoy it. Just remember to cover yourself unless you are on Doc’s approved list for barebacking him.”
I’m fucked. Figuratively and soon to be literally.
Then to me, he says, “Don’t worry, we have a little diversion to help your final hours pass. Your friends from Vegas have produced something very special for you. It will be shown on the screen all evening as we take our turns with you. It is my understanding this will showcase your true biggest fantasy. Before we start it though I want to reintroduce you to a friend you made this weekend.”
He then calls forward my recent mistress. Still in leather, her leash held by her master. “This lovely young submissive lives in Vegas, and her Dominant is a close friend of some of the masters in your social club. With his permission and support she served as the model in the film work that we all enjoyed yesterday and some additional work you are about to see. You paid her back today letting her experience the Dom/sub relationship from the other side. She had a good time. With that said, let’s get back to fun,” and Master D walks away.
Still standing beside me, my leather friend pats my head and says, “I hope you like my work. I did have fun doing it. You aren’t the only one with forbidden fantasies to act out.” And she and her master also step away. I have not been left alone; I don’t do a count, but I sense there are at least a dozen people around me. I don’t know if they are here to watch the show or if they are queuing to use me.
Chapter 32: Watching My Ultimate Fantasy The screen comes to life. It appears to be Dr. D’s dungeon. It starts with a man in leather Dom attire setting a naked woman up on the devious and cruel oversized Spanish horse that I know personally too well. I watch her arms being secured in a leather arm binder. They will be pulled up behind her and secured from above bending her forward. Her pussy is spread open and crushed as she is set down on the inverted V of the horse's saddle edge. He manipulates her cunt lips to maximize the future agony.
Her legs are then spread wide under the horse's body secured to an adjustable spreader bar putting all her weight on her cunt bone and lips. He ends with adding severe nipple clamps to her nipples and tethering them to the front of the horse. She is in obvious excruciating pain.
The woman is my wife. The man is me.
I don’t know how they do it. I know this is AI assisted filmmaking. I know this isn’t real. Or at least it isn’t really my wife and me. I just met someone who said she was the model. Someone that I’d have no trouble believing what I am seeing on screen she really experienced. And that she loved doing it. But I don’t know how these are our faces and our bodies on screen.
In this setup she continues to suffer on the horse as I whip her and then spread her legs to increase her anguish. I am rock hard. So am I in the video. I can barely catch my breath watching. To me this is tremendously arousing, so hot. I would love my wife to want to be a submissive who would want to serve me this way. How I wish this could really happen.
Next up, I am strapping her to the St. Andrews cross. Her wrists and ankles first buckled into the four ratchet cuffs which as I tighten them stretch her out till she starts to squeal. Then she is strapped tight against the cross with the many pre-mounted leather straps. It's a brutal striping of her body. Extra attention paid to her pussy and breasts.
You see me securing her wrists with suspension cuffs to a trapeze bar, with her legs cuffed already to a spreader bar below. She is then raised till her feet leave the ground. I proceed to flog her as she spins on her suspension cable. Dropped back down till her toes barely reach the floor, I take her from behind. Fucking her pussy and then her butthole.
The last scene is me strapping her to a pegging bench. All three holes are taken. When I take her ass and cunt, I play breath control games with her, a plastic bag over her head, controlled with a leather strap around her neck. Her bucking and attempts to suck any air through the collapsed bag against her face makes the fucking so much more intense for both of us. The camera zooms a close up of her panicked and hopeless face. Wow.
The best though is when I fuck her mouth, held open by a ring gag. It is here where she will take my load. When ejaculation finally comes it is with my hard cock deep within her mouth filling her throat with cum. Staying pressed against her face, I squeeze her nostrils closed with my hand so she can only suck in air through her mouth to breathe. This ensures she swallows all that I have given her. Something she detests and never allows. She has made my day being the forced cum swallowing bondage slut of my greatest fantasy.
This creation is to me the hottest thing I have ever seen. It is everything I fantasize of doing to my willing wife, operative word there ‘willing’. I have no desire at all in real life to forcibly do these things to her against her will. She is the love of my life, and I would never hurt her or bind her unless she longed for it. She’d have to beg for it.
The absolute truth is she would never want this. Never allow this. Would hate even the thought of it. If she saw BDSM bondage and sexual abuse this severe, she would be beyond furious, hurt and crushed. Yes, this would never, never, never happen. I’ve long ago come to terms with that. It is as it should be. That makes what I am watching even hotter. The ultimate forbidden fruit.
