Vegas Twelve to One · Part 5 (5/14)
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soles of my feet. Yes, my privates included, though no arousal was attempted, just adequate coverage. I am unhooked from the cable. A black leather half hood is put over my head. This one has open eye holes and comes to the bridge of the nose and partly down the cheeks. My nose and mouth are completely exposed. Laces pulled tight in the back make it a snug skull cap.
I am walked out of the dungeon and back into the house. We go all the way back through, headed for the foyer, then on, out the front door, with me quite naked other than my leather Bitch collar and hood. I am now uneasy with my nakedness. We proceed down the beautiful entryway stairs and wide paver brick walkway and stop a few yards from the driveway loop edge. There on the walkway is the one-hole prison I was shown on the dungeon tour. My mind flashes to the Contract where I know this device is listed as a bondage choice matched with arms secured behind the back, the way mine are now. This one has an adjustable pole to position it at the perfect height in a vagina or asshole.
Still mounted on top is the progressive steel ball dildo. It has a swivel attachment where it connects to the pole so that it can be set at the perfect angle to properly penetrate deep into the butthole. The adjustable pole was welded to the center of a three-by-three-foot metal base. Also welded to the base at the center of two parallel edges are securing mounts to which each had attached a shiny metal ankle cuff on a short chain that matched the pole. The pole was in a lowered position.
I am positioned directly over the penetrator as I was expecting. My legs were then spread to reach the cuffs, and they were locked around my ankles. I was told then to stand on my toes and blocks were placed under my heels to hold them up. Some lube, not a lot, is placed on and in my hole and the pole is raised. The dildo is maneuvered into my rectum and the pole pushed up. As the larger balls from the bottom of the stack are forced by my sphincter and up my anal canal there is ensuing pain. The dildo is hot from being in the sun, for how long I don’t know and that adds to the discomfort of the wide penetration.
Once it has somewhat bottomed out in me, the set-screws are tightened down on the pole and the swivel with a large Allen wrench, so I am firmly stuck on the dildo, powerless to lift myself off of it. My own body is serving as the weight to hold the base and pole stationary. The blocks are removed from under my heals and I am told to drop my feet down flat. This pushes the dildo even further into me. This supplies more discomfort and pain as my sphincter is stretched wider to accommodate more of the large ball it had been partly consuming and from the additional extension into my rectum. I can tell immediately that this one pole prison will serve as conceived. I cannot escape the device.
There is no way for me to get the elevation needed to step up and off the dildo. Add the restraints of my cuffed hands and feet and my body weight holding the base fast to the ground, this is a perfect simple but elegant prison.
With the physical bondage finished, it is time for my mental fretting to begin. I am in fact outside, in front of their home. I look out, it is quite a distance to the street with lots of vegetation and geological features to obscure the view, but the main road is there, and I can see it. Can I also be seen from that distance by passing cars? My hosts don’t seem concerned. Plus, there is the driveway. Anyone could drive up. To myself, ‘Hey I’m naked guys and can’t hide!’
My thoughts are interrupted by instructions from Master, “You are to greet each of our guests as they arrive. You are to say: ‘Greetings. You have my Master’s permission to sexually use and punish me as you wish all weekend. It is my desire that you do so. Your hosts welcome you and wish for you to enter, they are inside.’ I will repeat it for you and then I want you to say it back to me.” He does and I do, and he is satisfied. “You keep practicing it. They will be arriving shortly. There will be four couples, each a Dom and a sub. You may answer a Dominant if they ask you a question. Call them Master and be completely respectful and submissive. The subs won’t ask you anything.”
They go inside leaving me naked, except for my servitude leather collar and hood, outside by myself for the world to see, or at least to anyone who wonders by, stuck on a pole deep in my ass. I am so fearful someone will come by. I’m sure I am still under the watchful camera eye of my masters, but being found like this by someone that were not the weekend players would be mortifying. What happens if a Girl Scout selling cookies happens by? I reason this nervousness is exactly why they planned this for me. I’m glad they put lotion on me because the sun's hot rays are beating down on me. No one comes early, I wait a while for the first arrival.
I work on purging my mind and try to distract myself by taking in the desert vistas. I am facing the large fountain and gardens that fill the loop. Both the hardscaping and landscaping were beautifully done and well maintained and watered. But the sun is bright, so I close my eye lids, resting my eyes as well as protecting them from the rays.
I hear a car coming up the drive and the chills from anxiousness run up and down my spine. Subconsciously, my body tries and fails to step up off the pole. The result being a tinge of pain in my hole. They turn into the lane to the house and circle around the loop and park behind Sir Michael’s rental car. This couple appears younger than the hosts and me, maybe in their early forties. Both are in casual dress, golf shirts and fancy jeans, but one sporting a leather collar of a submissive and toting a gray equipment case and a rolling suitcase. The dominant has on a baseball cap. He’s maybe five-eleven or six foot tall, his mate a little shorter. Both are average build, reasonably good looking I guess, nothing remarkable. Their eyes are on me as they approach, checking me out as I do them.
I announce without making eye contact, “Greetings. You have my Master’s permission to sexually use and punish me as you wish all weekend. It is my desire that you do so. Your hosts welcome you and wish for you to enter, they are inside.”
“We've been looking forward to doing just that,” was the reply. They stop in front of me, give me a thorough visual inspection and then he adds, “Yes, this is going to be a fun play party.” They enter the house. One down.
It is probably fifteen to twenty minutes for the next car to come up the drive. I’m getting hot and hope this will be over soon, at least we are about halfway there now. They are in a vintage Corvette. Beautiful car. As they drive around the circle, they pause when they see me, then park their car with the others. The Dominant in this couple appears to be in his late fifties, while his sub looks about forty. They are wearing shorts and fancy Tees. These two are both fit, they definitely seem to hit the gym regularly. The collared sub is also the one handling the luggage. I would describe the Dom as distinguished, handsome. He sports a neatly trimmed mustache. The sub, I’ll call ‘cute’ and on the petite and slender side of body styles.
“Greetings. You have my Master’s permission to sexually use and punish me as you wish all weekend. It is my desire that you do so. Your hosts welcome you and wish for you to enter, they are inside.”
They stop and eye me up and down. He says to his sub, “He’s a little on the small size don’t you think? It should be saluting us though, make him salute me.” And without any hesitation, the younger man puts down the suitcase, kneels in front of me, puts my flaccid penis into his mouth and begins to suck me in earnest, using his tongue and lips aided by some fingers on one hand as his second hand massages my balls. He’s good and I can’t help quickly getting a Cialis aided erection. When I do, he leans back, displaying his work to his master who says, “That’s better. Let’s head in.” And I am standing outside alone again, my moist and now fading semi-erect cock glistening in the sunlight.
A short time passes when I hear another vehicle coming up the driveway. This time it’s a van. Oh shit, it’s a Prime delivery van. It’s my nightmare bondage fantasy come to life, where a stranger unwittingly happens upon the bound helpless person and takes advantage of them in some way. Again, I try to remove myself from the pole, but it is impossible. Please go right, please go right, please don’t see me I beg. Wish granted, the van heads to the garage to make a delivery, and leaves without approaching me.
I am perspiring, from both the fear I just had of unwanted discovery and the desert heat. It is just a little while when a third car arrives. This couple appears to be Sir Michael’s and my age, between forty-five and fifty. These guys are leather boys. Bigger, heavier looking men, I’m not sure it’s their actual size or from how they are dressed. Their clothes reflect the look of many of the men who were in the leather bar that Sir Michael took me to, to be abused in the Hillsdale gay area of San Diego. A real macho look.
They are more what I expected to see when Sir Michael talked about coming here, and yet, not what I really wanted to show up. And that simply was because I think, without basis, that they may be more aggressive and punishing towards me, especially since I’m straight. That is unfair of me because I have no firsthand knowledge of people that practice this lifestyle. So, I do my duty and say, “Greetings. You have my Master’s permission to sexually use and punish me as you wish all weekend. It is my desire that you do so. Your hosts welcome you and wish for you to enter, they are inside.”
The reply, “Well, in the position you are in you don’t have much say in the matter,” and he reaches in for my right nipple, grabs it and gives a pull and mischievous twist. “Yea, we’re going to have a lot of fun with you, I love fucking a helpless man-cunt, oh yeah, a naked cunt that can’t resist, what could be better? I’m going to make you dance in your bonds!” and the pair enters the house. I am hoping he is just role playing for my benefit, otherwise, crap.
It feels like an eternity waiting for the last couple to arrive. My butthole has become sore from my pole sitting. Standing so long in the same position is hard on you. They do come and they look like they came straight from work. They also have that ‘we are running late’ look. They are the youngest of the couples, both look like they are in their mid to late thirties, one just a little older than the other. I may be wrong, never have been good at guessing ages. But they do have a youthful look. A successful look too. They are both toting regular wheeled suitcases. Maybe they brought their toys and play clothes. This is the first couple where I cannot tell who the Dominant is.
These guys are tall too, both must be over six feet, and both very fit looking. Sir Michael is going to like playing with these guys. They are chatting as they approach me. “Greetings. You have my Master’s permission to sexually use and punish me as you wish all weekend. It is my desire that you do so. Your hosts welcome you and wish for you to enter, they are inside.” One says to the other, “I love coming here, they always have something different and new for us to do. This is going to be great.” “Yeah, he does look like he’s already suffering on that pole, imagine what he’ll be like after we all fuck and whip him. You know he is straight, don’t you?” And they enter.
Chapter 8: And the Boys Begin Their Play Party
{Friday 7:00 pm – 11:00 pm} Evidently there was no urgency for me to be back inside as I was left on my pole for what I guess was another half hour. I was finally retrieved by Host Master’s sub who unlocked the ankle cuffs, released the pole extension and slid it down, pulling the dildo from my abused butthole. “Come on, we need to get you ready to be our party favor. You need a shower and a cleansing.” I am taken back inside all the way to the wet room, hands still cuffed and hood on. There I was restrained as before to receive the same basic cleansing and shower routine I had been subjected to this morning. I also had my penis held as I peed into the plastic urinal. The humiliation of it all is tough to bear.
I am left hanging in the shower bay to drip dry for about fifteen minutes. I’m then shown an intimidating black heavy leather discipline hood. It has metallic rings around the eyes and mouth. It laces up the back and tightens more by three fierce looking lockable leather buckle straps with the neck collar belt provided with 3 D-rings. The eyes can be covered by an attachable blindfold, while the mouth can be stuffed with its silicone gag, each held in place by using the upper leather belts. He puts it over my still damp hair that he had just combed and laces it up getting a glove like fit around my head, face and upper neck. Next, he buckles down the neck belt and puts the blindfold on and buckles that down too. He keeps me without the gag, at least for the time being.
I am mostly dry now and I am detached from the shower chain, hands cuffed behind me and led back into the main play area. There I am positioned under what I discover is the cable winch that is equipped with the cross bar and suspension cuffs. The cuffs are removed and my wrists are attached to the suspension cuffs. Another set of leather cuffs are fastened around my ankles and locked to a spreader bar which is extended out about three feet. The winch is then retracted till I am stretched up so that my heels are raised up, but my toes and soles of my feet are still in contact with the floor, but just barely. My body is taught. I recall this apparatus was in the center of the dungeon. My guess is I was put here as I will now be at the ‘center’ of the dungeon’s entertainment.
“Everyone is out on the deck about to eat dinner, so I am going to quickly feed you so I can join them.” The first entrée of my two-course meal is squeezed into my, another toddler baby food pouch, this one definitely a veggie pouch. The second course is an energy bar that I take small bites, chew, and swallow as it is held up to my mouth. It is followed by a whole bottle of water. He adds his final touches to his party favor by hanging two items from the rings on my collar, I can’t tell for sure but as they dangle against my chest, they feel like a riding crop and a flogger. Do we really need to provide both the suggestion and convenience to our visiting tormentors? And, then he is off to enjoy his dinner and socialization. He doesn’t say goodbye nor good luck or have fun, he just leaves. I hear both doors being closed and locked.
More time to think about all the things in this room that could be used against me. On one hand it is exhilarating for me, it is the stuff that I fantasize about when I practice self-bondage or when I do the occasional masturbation in the shower. But on the other hand, this stuff is real and meant to restrain and then torture the victim, me. Shortly, it will all be real and not a fantasy. I remember San Diego. Now I will be with pros. I will be made to suffer and serve; how much I will know soon. I hang for almost an hour, I think, before the sound of the doors being reopened startles me back to the reality that it is time.
It is not a stampede, from the sound of it they come in as small groups. I waited, but not long for the first interaction. It comes via touching. Someone is inspecting me. They are rubbing my body with their hand. The wandering hand moves across my chest, over my shoulder, down my back. Then up my crack with a finger, over my hips and down to my penis and testicles that are fondled, enough that my dick even stirs just a bit. Then back up my chest to where he finds an interest in my nipples. The whips hanging from my neck appear to be in the way and he maneuvers them around, so they are now hanging down my back.
Now unblocked, he starts nicely caressing my nipples one at a time, but that moves on to light pinching, pulling and twisting. He moves to doing both simultaneously and as this becomes more zealous my body reacts and tries to pull back. The immediate discipline for pulling back is nipple clamps. My nipples, one at a time, are pulled out taught and twirled between his fingers, followed by the distinct painful feel of a clamp being applied. These are of the twist down type having an outer circle frame that holds two inter textured plates that take a firm grip on two sides of the nip and are cranked down tight together with an adjustable thumb screw.
This design allows the tormentor to continue to tighten together the grip plates to whatever nipple pressure and pain level that amuses him. I am being attacked in stages, a turn of two at time, then a wait for the reaction, and after the pain appears to subside, another turn, maybe two.
As one of the more painful adjustments is made, I unconsciously cry out in anguish. I hear, “You need him gagged?” There was an apparent nod yes, as I’m order by Sir Michael’s voice to open my mouth. The middle strap of my hood is removed. The sizable silicone gag is stuffed into my oral cavity. The detached strap is threaded through belt loops of the gag’s outer leather covering and then reapplied around my head and buckled tight, forcing the gag deep and unyielding into my mouth. I am relieved that it was applied by my own master, he will keep a close eye on me gagged as I am.
I think I have tough nipples and pain control, but it is not too many cycles more of tightening when he knows he has won, and my lesson learned. That doesn’t mean he then takes them off or lets off some of the pressure, and he doesn’t.
This user abandons me, and it is a couple of minutes till my next visitor stops by. Must be a butt enthusiast because that’s where he spends his time. Initially it is just rubbing my checks and running a finger up and down my crack. He then reaches for some lube, greases up his finger and slips inside me. (I don’t have any idea where he got it from, I will come to find during the weekend that lube is near at hand pretty much anywhere in the playroom.) He explores. Then he uses two fingers to explore and caress my colon.
Not a first-time explorer he finds my prostate and after some quality fondling starts to excite the area enough that my cock takes notice and grows, not rigid, but in the game. He must have noticed, as he reached around with his other hand and began to play with me dick and balls. Now I am hard, and I feel my body trying to move in motion with his front hand work. He increases his back door efforts while stroking my member for a minute or two more and then abruptly stops. It takes a few seconds for my own body motions to stop. I had been rising up and down on my toes, the only real movement I had with the restraints that held me. I was expecting a punishment for that, but none really came.
I can hear activity around me. I know I am going to be used all weekend, but I am not an exclusive play toy. There are four Doms and four subs here by my count, plus, Sir Michael and the hosts. They are here to fulfill their kinks and pleasure themselves. When I can be useful as the object of a particular desire for them, I will be utilized. Otherwise, they will be amusing themselves and each other in this awesome, dastardly place. I try to listen to the sounds, one to distract myself from ongoing thoughts and the body aches from the stress of the bondage, the other because I have a vested interest in what may be happening to other submissives on the floor.
From the conversations, it sounded like a sub was about to be subjected to riding the wooden horse. I have compassion for his plight. Then again, if these guys are as heavily into BDSM as they appear, maybe this is something he is looking forward to, besides, I’m sure this isn’t the first time the horse has been used here.
My attention is drawn back to my own situation as someone is asking, “Can he be dropped down to his knees, I’d like to use his mouth.”
“Yeah, but he’s gagged right now, you have to take that out.”
“Then never mind, I’ll just use his butt for a while.” Whoever this is, has come around to my back. My bottom is fondled a bit, then a hand is put around my waist to hold me while I am penetrated not so gently by a dildo. It seems like one of the natural shaped dongs with a hand grip extends from it. I am pegged with it for almost five minutes, sometimes in slow motion, sometimes fast and furious, always deep enough to be uncomfortable, and at times painful. I don’t really know anal/rectal canal anatomy well, but I think there are two chambers, it feels like he is penetrating into the second room. I worry, but then think they likely would not sell these if the length would harm you. So, I suffer in silence.
He stops, I assume because his arm gets tired. Turns out that it was because he wanted to put his own cock in there. The dong was to loosen me up. Standup penetration in the butt isn’t easy, but the attempt is made, with penetration accomplished, and fucking action somewhat achieved. I can tell he isn’t getting much satisfaction out of this. I wonder if his real goal is to use me for the sake of my fantasy, not his enjoyment. I appreciate it in a weird way. He stops after a short fuck session, gives me two hard smacks with his hand, one on each cheek, says “Thanks for the free fuck, Cunt,” and wanders away.
Unfortunately for me someone has finally taken notice of the whips hanging from my hood. The riding crop has been selected and the initial target is my butt, where three precise hits are landed on the lower portion of my right cheek. The same location on the left cheek is then punished. He moves lower catching the rear of my right inner thigh with this hit also coming from behind. Two more are landed. These strikes are slow, intentional, calculated, both the intensity and landing spot. He continues with the left side and when done moves around me. The front of my inner thighs receives the same strikes. Every one of them stings when they land and takes more than a few seconds to dissipate.
Painful as these are, the real test of my ability to absorb this torture session comes next and I fail. The next series is delivered to my scrotum. The angle of swing is adjusted so the three hits will land squarely on the balls so maximum effect can be obtained. My legs collapse after this first hit finds its sweet spot and I am hanging solely by wrists. I scream out, but the very effective gag muffles it completely. He does not relent, just simply adjusting his swing again so hits number two and three find their target too. I just remain collapsed and hanging limp. Then with no comment or sign of any regret, he reattaches the crop to my hood and goes.
It takes a good minute or two before I even attempt to stand up erect and get some of my weight back on my feet. I’m not sure if it was mercy or not, but I am left alone for maybe fifteen minutes. I feel my arms dropping as the cable is lowered. When there is enough slack to allow it, I am told to get down on my knees and I do. The cable height is set to keep my arms still in the air. I feel the buckle of my gag being undone and the gag is pulled from my mouth and as it is I’m ordered to keep my mouth open. The insertion gag is immediately replaced with a large ring gag that is forced behind my teeth and buckled behind my head.
I own ring gags as part of my home toy collection, but this one is wider than mine. My jaw feels stretched. Of course, there is a reason for the gag as someone has stepped up in front of me and put his prick through the ring into my defenseless oral opening. He makes a few somewhat awkward thrusts and says, “Can you pull him up some, he’s too low for me to fuck his mouth.”
Someone else takes control of the winch and I am pulled up about a foot. This raises my knees off the ground. My feet are angled out behind me still cuffed to the spreader bar and can provide just minimal support. I try to stand up some, but my tormenter pushes down on my shoulders holding me at the height I’ve been set at. His rock-hard cock is again pushed into my mouth, and he is now able to fuck it properly. But I am almost completely suspended by my wrists that remain connected to the bar above me with suspension cuffs. These cuffs help, but my shoulders and arms start to burn after about a minute. “Lick it Bitch.
You need to lick it, try to use your lips.” With the extra size ring gag the lips can’t make contact. I try to concentrate on getting him off and not on my arms. I’m thinking the quicker I can get him out of my mouth the quicker they will let me out of this position. I’m trying my best to not call out Yellow. My tongue action on his shaft is doing something.
