2 comments/ 36799 views/ 6 favorites Plaything 01 By: trenchantone I've always wanted to be the sexual plaything of others. I've wanted to be tied up, or down, and used and abused. I've wanted to be fucked in the ass, suck cock, do both at the same time, and do it while being tormented. Perverted, huh? Well what makes it even more perverted is that I appear to be a normal, white middle-aged, American guy. No, I'm not gay or even bisexual, at least not in the romantic sense. I'd say I'm bisexual in a BDSM sense. I mean no disrespect to gays or bisexuals, but I find the thought of being forced to suck cock or take one up the ass an incredibly humiliating turn-on. What is equally humiliating, or even more so, is to be forced to acknowledge my wants in this area to another. I hate even opening a conversation in this area because so many people think what I want is sick on so many different levels that I have been rejected (sometimes reviled would be a better word) for even bringing it up in a context where I was asked point-blank what my favorite fantasy is. The nicer rejecters smile fixedly, nod knowingly, and slowly back away as if they had just been told I had leprosy. There was a guy though who actually got it. He got both what I wanted and me. Moreover, he arranged for me to get everything I could have imagined. When I say he got me, I mean that he got the combination of intense desire/lust for humiliation and sex (and humiliating sex), and he got that I was terrified of those desires and of the negative consequences of being found out by my circle of "normal" friends, family, and relationships. He got that I had to be coaxed to open up and "forced" to do what I desperately wanted to do by making it the lesser of the evils I faced. Once I am started, of course, I am as wanton as could be wished. ### I met Mr. Tad at a play party that a local BDSM group was having. I was with (if that's the right word) a pro-Domme of my acquaintance who was using me to show off some of her equipment and skills. I supplied a body both for her to work on (advertising her skills) and for others to work on under her supervision. There would always be novices at our larger parties and one of another of the Dommes would take shifts giving basic instruction to novices. These were things like the right way (and the wrong ways) to use a flogger or paddle or cane. How to secure a bottom to various devices safely. How to make sure a bottom was all right without destroying whatever sub-space said bottom may have found. Even how to be a good bottom and not overtax the person topping you. It's amazing how little people outside the scene know about being safe. New couples think you just string someone up and wail the stuffing out of them. Then they wonder why the scene they attempted didn't end up very satisfying. There are some very experienced players who are into deep and heavy and physically and emotionally extreme scenes and activities, but novices don't realize that you have to work up to those levels of intensity. What that all means is that our Dommes supervise and make sure everything is safe, and all attendees pay for this privilege because not only do we all want safety, but we also believe that no one should get something for nothing. The Dommes are working, they get paid. My arrangement, as the club sub, is that I don't get paid in money and I don't pay money, but I give services (my body for demonstrations and other uses) and I get some of what I crave: exposure in safety, titillation, and even occasionally relief. In this context, I do a certain amount of things that I either would not ordinarily do or don't feel one way or another about. For example, almost everybody likes to use floggers and crops and paddles and canes and hands on the submissive's body. I don't care one way or another about floggers and crops or even hand spanking or (mild) slapping, but I don't much like paddles or canes. Yet I submit to all of these as part of a demonstration. It's part of the job, and I can handle them, mostly. One of the reasons the Dommes like to use me as their demo-bottom is that I provide reliable, honest feedback (something most bottoms take time to learn). If I'm being flogged, and the flogging is too much, I'll say something, and whoever is working on me will back off. Some even use it as a teaching moment for the newbies. One thing I dislike, but have endured more than once, are needles. I don't get them. I don't get what others get in them, but if a demonstration is needful and there's no expert bottom for needles, I do it. But this is neither here nor there; I was telling you about meeting Tad. Ms. Joy had just finished demonstrating basic flogging with a variety of floggers and my body was a fine rosy hue as I stood facing away from a piller to which I was attached. For this evening, I was wearing what I considered a very naughty costume: matching red bra and panties. Ms. Joy was tidying me up a bit--she moves the fabric around to suit herself when she wants to demonstrate her incredible technique on a nipple or a cock--putting my clothing back in order and thanking me. Mr. Tad comes up and introduces himself to Ms. Joy and compliments her on her technique. He's maybe 6'4" or 5" with a very full head of white hair and a trim salt and pepper beard. He's dressed in leathers: leather vest over lean, bare, hairy chest, leather chaps over black pants, and leather boots. The full regalia of a Top Man of the old school. He has a deep, commanding voice with subtle undertones of gentleness. I found him fascinating to look at. He ignored me, of course, recognizing me as just a prop for Ms. Joy's work. He and Ms. Joy exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes. Then he asked if he could speak with me. "That's up to him," Ms. Joy answered. "Jim here was kind enough to help me out, but he's not one of mine." "Oh? To whom does he belong? I would hate to breach any rules of etiquette." "Don't need to speak to anybody else," Ms. Joy answered. "He's no one's, that I know of, at the moment." She looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded my head. I wondered where this was going? "Well, thank you, Ms. Joy," he said to her, and she walked off. Then, turning to me and stuck out his hand for a handshake. "My name is Tad." I smiled and answered, "My name is Jim, and I'm sorry I can't shake your hand. But, as you can see, I'm a little tied up at the moment, Sir." I glanced up at my cuffed hands hanging about a foot over my head. "Yes, so you are. Are you comfortable? Do you want to be let down?" "If it's all the same to you, Sir," I said, "I'd like to stay like this for awhile. You never know when someone will come along who wants to play." I grinned what I hoped was a friendly, even inviting, grin. "But you don't mind talking? It doesn't interfere with your pleasures?" I thought about it before answering. On the one hand, no one else would approach while he was talking to me, but on the other hand, he was an interesting new face. And he had such an easy manner as well as a commanding presence that I thought it might be worthwhile to invest a bit of time getting to know him. Who knew? We might be involved in a scene sometime. "Sir, you're not interfering with anything, as I'm just on display at the moment, and talking to you might keep my mind from wandering into trouble." "I wanted to ask you about your, uh, display," he said. What's with the bra and panties? Are you a cross-dresser?" "Well, yes and no." I stopped. How to explain this. "I'm really quite uncomfortable with being seen like this, or I was when I first did it. I'm getting used to it. Those who know me will see in it a sign that I'm feeling particularly randy tonight and might be available for some slutty activity. Probably no one will do more than tease me and make fun of me and get me hard and then leave me to suffer unfulfilled. But I do have hopes that something more might happen." "Such as?" he asked. He was listening attentively, but I couldn't read anything more into his face than polite interest in someone else's hobby. "Such as," I echoed. "Oh my. How to explain it all." I could feel myself starting to blush, and I could feel blood rushing into another part of my anatomy, too. I was starting to get that feeling of delicious agony that comes from being embarrassed and turned on at the same time. But how to explain it? I've never really had a lot of success at getting it across. Tad noticed the flush coming over me and looked down to see the bulge showing up in red panties not designed for such extra equipment. "You get off on being embarrassed?" he asked, and his town was polite and respectful. "Well, yes Sir," I answered. "And just how embarrassed would you like to be?" That was the big question. But how to answer it? I took a deep breath. "Sir, I would like to be used, and abused as a slut." "What does that mean?" He wasn't going to let up until he got it all out of me. I looked away at nothing in particular; I just couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. "Sir, my ideal scenario would be to the the guest of honor at a gang bang, to be forced to take on all comers...literally." Was it me, I wondered, of was it getting hot in here? "Are you gay?" As Tad asked this question, he moved closer and touched my hard on beneath my panties. I felt myself get even harder and my face flush even redder. I was becoming the color of my outfit, I was sure. "Oh, God," I sighed as I moved uncomfortably under his gaze, his question, his touch. "No...not ordinarily." He began to stroke me lightly with his fingertips through the thin fabric of my bright red panties. "Not ordinarily?" It was becoming difficult to concentrate. His touch felt so good. It was turning me on so much. And yet it was so embarrassing to have a man doing this to me in a public play room with people walking through or even standing around and watching. "Only...only when I'm...oh god...when I'm like this," I finally managed to get out. He arched an eyebrow and in that move his face reminded me of Mr. Spock's from Star Trek: calm, cool, quizzical. "Only when you're like this. Like this, how?" His fingers kept tracing lazy patterns along my growing cock, and suddenly I could feel the tip poking out the top of the panties. I could feel the air on it and I knew that whoever was watching was seeing me like this. I groaned a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. I was on that delicious knife-edge of bliss and torment. "Only when I'm bound in some way and forced." It was getting very difficult to talk. He stepped back, and my legs moved out a step with him. Seemingly of its own volition, my body wanted to maintain that delicious teasing, tormenting contact. But, tethered as I was to the poll, I could only manage a step and an arch of my back. "Well look at you," he said with a smile as he crossed his arms. "I believe you'd do just about anything I asked at this moment, wouldn't you?" I didn't say anything. I had closed my eyes at some point in this discussion. So I was surprised when I felt a firm tap on my left cheek. It wasn't nearly hard enough to be a slap, but it had that effect on me. "Answer me, slut," he said firmly, but not unkindly. "Yes, sir." "Yes, sir, what?" "Yes, Sir, I would do anything you want right now." I wanted to put qualifiers on it, but I couldn't. I had not the will to resist anything he wanted at that moment. I didn't know if he was what I was really looking for, but at that moment, he sure felt like he was. "What's your safe word?" His question caught me off-guard. It was such a change that I had to think to remember it. "Uh, red, Sir." "Red?" He shook his head. "No, no, that will never do for a slut boy who is wearing a red ensemble. By the way, it looks good on you. Makes you look like a slut." "Uh, thank you, Sir?" It was somewhere between a statement and a question. I was really off-balance now. "I think your safe word should be 'blue', slut-boy. 'Red' is your slut-boy word. Whenever you hear me say 'red' you stop whatever you're doing and attend me and do whatever I say. Is that clear?" He was just standing there talking to me matter-of-factly. His arms were folded in front of him as they had been since he had stopped teasing my cock. "Sir, does this mean we're gonna do a scene? Here? Now?" "Well that depends on you. Sometime while we're still here, you will hear me say your slut-boy word. If you attend me as you should, we'll do a little something. If you follow my directions and do exactly as I tell you without argument, I think we'll both have an enjoyable time. Of course, if you really don't want to do what I will ask of you, you can use your safe word. I'll honor it, and we'll talk about it. "But if you use your safe word too often or in ways that make me question your commitment to being a slut-boy, then we're through. Now, I'm going to let you down from your perch. I want you to pull yourself together, relax, and think about if this is what you want or not. If not, hey no hard feelings, and I've enjoyed our little chat. But if you want to be my slut-boy, I think I can arrange for you to get all the humiliation and turn-on you can handle." With that, he reached up and undid the catch I could not reach, freeing my cuffed wrists, and turned and walked away, leaving me standing there bemused. What had just happened? I felt like I'd spent a couple of hours in a very intense scene, but it couldn't have been more than a five minute conversation. And in five minutes I'd told him things that it had taken me years to tell anyone else. I looked around, but no one was paying any attention to me. There was a couple laying out toys for a scene, and there were a few people over by the snack area having chips and dip and a (non-alcoholic) beverage. I put my suspension cuffs back in my bag and went to the restroom to get myself together for a minute. When I came out, I saw Mr. Tad having a cola and chatting with Ms. Joy and The Professor. I had scened with both of them before. Ms. Joy liked feminizing me, as well as flogging and cbt. The Professor was an amateur Dom (that is he didn't take money) who specialized in women, would scene with a man, but seemed mostly interested in any sort of flogger, whip, crop, cane, or paddle. My mouth felt dry. I debated for just a moment about whether or not to go over. What might Mr. Tad make me do in front of these two old friends. But I dismissed this thinking as stupid. Both of them were experienced and had no trouble separating socializing with scening. I filled a cup with a clear, non-caffeinated cola and downed it in one gulp. I hadn't intended to, but it tasted so good that it just sort of disappeared. Then I refilled the cup and looked for a place to sit. I didn't really want to sit at a Top table uninvited. Besides, I felt like I needed a little space from Mr. Tad at that moment. A couple of tables away sat two subs I knew: Cindi and Alice. Both were young women, not yet 30 I would guess. I had never scened with either one, but I had watched them with whatever Top they were with at play parties, and they had watched me a time or two. Cindi liked needles and piercing scenes. Alice was more into being suspended and flogged (at least in public). I had no idea what either one did outside of a public/semi-public party. We just didn't travel in the same circles. But I could hang with both of them. As I sat down at their table, Alice asked, "Who is your Dom, Jim? He looks smokin' H-O-T." "You know," I answered, "I really don't know. Just met him tonight. But he got into my head quicker than anyone I can remember." Cindi giggled. "Yeah, we could tell. I got wet just watching you. But he went by both of us like we were chairs or something." Both women were topless. Cindi was wearing only a thong, while Alice wore a woman's leather top harness and leather panties. So it's not like a man wouldn't notice either one. They have decent figures, too; not drop-dead gorgeous but not someone to pass by as ugly my any means. "I guess we should have worn red," Alice said. We all laughed at that. "Well, I feel like I've done a major session already tonight," I said. "My head is spinning." "That," said Alice, looking curiously at me, "is rather amazing in so short a time. Maybe it was a carry over from Ms. Joy's flogging?" I shook my head. "No, I never got going in that demo. She didn't try to put me into sub-space." "Well, dears," said Cindi, getting to her feet, "I see my man signalling to me. I'm off to ride the spinning wheel." "I'm coming with you," said Alice. "I want to watch." "Have fun, ladies," I called after them. Now I was alone with my thoughts. But what did I think? Could this new man be trusted? Did I want a Top I completely trusted? Well, yes I did, at least as far as physical safety and protection from the law were concerned. What else was there to worry about? No one gets into these parties who isn't vouched for. There are no sales at the door, and we don't want gawkers. We keep everything well within the law. So someone in our group knows Mr. Tad. No, the real question is do I want to let him lead me on his adventure. Or was it just his adventure? I wasn't thinking clearly. I needed to talk to someone, but the only people I could talk to were Ms. Joy and The Professor, and they were with him right now. Yes, I could move to their table and sit unbidden, but that didn't seem right. I felt like I should be asked. I don't know why. I mean I've shared many a snack with the other two. It was him. If I looked him in the eyes, would I fall into them again? I've never been attracted to men like that before. Why was he different? "Excuse me, Jim?" asked a voice cutting through my mental fog. Then I recognized it. It was him! "Uh, yes, sir?" I said getting to my feet. "No, no," he said putting a hand on my shoulder. "Don't get up. I was wondering if we could just sit and chat for a bit?" I sat back down. "Certainly, sir." I motioned to a chair. "Can I get you anything? We usually have a nice spread. Everybody pitches in--" I was rambling, and he cut me off. "No, nothing for me, thanks." He sat down. "But you seem reasonably well-trained for an unattached bottom. How is it that you have not given yourself to anyone?" "Well, I have had a couple of Mistresses, but after awhile I guess they tired of me. One of them said I was too needy. The other one left town rather suddenly. I don't know why, though I have heard rumors." Mr. Tad listened as thoughtfully as he had earlier. "I'm sorry to hear about your disappointment. But you've not been Topped by a man before?" "I've had some sessions with men," I answered. For some reason I felt defensive. "But they were never more than one time things. The Professor tries out some of his new toys on me. He's as regular as anyone as a play partner. But I'm not what he wants, and if he has to do more than beat me...well, that's not his thing. You know?" Mr. Tad nodded. "So, what do you want to know about me? I'm sure you have questions. Let me start, though, by saying that I was trained old school, which means I was a bottom boy to some older tops, and I worked my way up in the time-honored traditions of Gay S&M. So I do have some idea of the needs, and the fears, of a bottom. Nobody does it that way anymore, and I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing." While he spoke, he seemed almost wistful, and I found myself liking him for wholly different reasons than the first time we talked. He wasn't in a hurry. He was thoughtful. And he seemed so calm "Well, sir, what brought you here tonight? Are you new in town? Are you even in town for anything more than a visit?" "I've been in town six, no seven, months now. And I've been swamped with both work and getting a home together. Finally, a friend sat me down and told me I'd better slow down and relax a bit. So I found out about this little group, made some contacts and wangled an invitation. And I'm glad I did. I feel right at home tonight." Plaything 01 "And you want to play?" I asked with some little trepidation. I mean, he was putting me at ease, but I was trying to get my head around what might yet happen here tonight. HE might be a relative unknown in our group, but I was pretty well known. Until now, my bottom activities had been pretty much in line with what everyone else wanted to do, which is to say that there was little to no actual sexual activity. The couples in our group tended to keep actual sexual contact out of the general play space. We have access to half a dozen private rooms, and even there the activities have been pretty heterosexual and ordinary. Certainly not the orgiastic things one can read about happening in BDSM clubs. I wasn't sure how the others would react if Tad came anywhere near where I wanted to go (and feared to go) here tonight. I also wasn't sure how others would react to me after a scene in which I sucked a cock or took one up the ass. Would they see me in a different light? Would they shun me? "I do want to do a scene," he said. "And I would like to do something with you, but I need to know more about what you want, and what your limits are. For example, you say you're not gay, except in certain circumstances. Would you explain that for me?" How to explain. Moreover, how to explain it to a gay man in such a way that he isn't offended or think that I think he's perverted. But I tried, making all kinds of caveats and disclaimers and trying to convince him that I did not look down on what anyone else did for love, but that the turn on for me in being what he calls a boy slut was that I was not gay, and I didn't think I would ever try to convince a gay may otherwise just so I could go down on him. Mr. Tad listened without comment to my stumbling and bumbling. This time there were no raised eyebrows or questions to take me off on a tangent. At length, I ran out of things to say, and found that I was repeating myself, particularly the apologies for offending him, if I was. He held up a hand and smiled. "I get the picture, Jim. I've chatted with a number of the regulars, both Tops and bottoms, about you, and all I've gotten from them were how sweet and cooperative you are, how you're always helpful and never thrust yourself into anything unasked. As you know, several of them know what you say you want, but the men here aren't interested in giving it. Though a couple of them told me that they'd love to watch, less because they're interested in the activities than because they care about you and would like to see how you reacted to getting something of what you seem to crave. No one here is going to object to anything I might do with you, and despite what some have said, I suspect that a few might join in, if the mood strikes them or their Tops insist." He smiled again. "I suspect you know to whom I might be referring." I listened in a sort of stunned silence, but now I felt a need to say something. "It would be easier," I allowed, "if I didn't have to be afraid of other people." "While you are a bottom of mine," Tad said quite seriously, "you need fear no one but me. And you need not fear that I will do, or make you do, anything you do not want to do." That really made me feel relaxed. "That doesn't mean," he went on, "that I won't push you to do more than you think you want to do at that moment. It's part of what turns me on to push little slut-boys' limits in a variety of ways." I nodded. I was beginning to feel as I did earlier; I was back under his spell even though he wasn't touching me and we weren't in a scene. He just so excited and attracted me. Maybe I was more gay than I thought, I wondered? Oh well, I decided, if this went anywhere near where I wanted to go, it would be very hard to tell me from a gay man. Very hard indeed. "Thank you for telling me that, Sir." He leaned slightly forward, as if to emphasize his next question. "Now tell me about your limits. I mean your hard limits; the things that will make you cry blue if I start to do them or make you call the cops if I don't stop as agreed." I didn't have to think long. "As far as I know--there may be things you decide you want to do that I haven't thought of." He nodded agreement. "I'm not into blood or drinking urine or eating shit. And I don't want to do anything in public that would involve innocent bystanders who might not--most likely did not--want to be involved." "Fair enough," he said. "If anything comes up, let me know as quickly as possible. That is," he smiled, "assuming you still want to do a scene with me?" I gushed like a school girl, "Oh yes, Sir!" And then I felt myself blushing like a school girl. Mr. Tad laughed. "Okay, slut boy. I think it's time we went red, don't you?" I was ready for that and I stood immediately and cast my eyes down and placed my hands at my sides. "Yes, Sir." "Good, good," he said, remaining sitting. "Do you need to use the restroom before we begin?" "Uh, no Sir." "I phrased that badly. You need to use the restroom before we do anything else." "Yes, Sir," I answered, and I started moving toward the restrooms. "Just a minute, slut boy." I stopped, having taken one step away. "Earlier I saw you coming out of the Mens' Room. That doesn't seem like the right place for a slut boy. Nor do I think you can just waltz into the Womens' without permission from the women around here. So you will go around to all of the women here who are not otherwise engaged in scene activities and ask their permission to use their restroom. Assure them that you will not enter if a woman is in there and you will leave the room in better condition than you found it. Do not tell them this, though; if any woman refuses, you will be punished. So I recommend you be both convincing and sincere. Find me once you have used the restroom... or been refused permission." He said that last bit with a smirk, like he knew something I did not. "Yes, Sir," I said. Then I looked around to see any women who might not be involved in any scenes at the moment. There was no one close by that I could see. I'm a bit near sighted and can't make out much detail at a distance, so I'd have to get reasonably close to know who was doing what to whom, and who was just watching. I was also trying to figure out what to say and how to say it so that I'd get permission. I don't like being punished; it's rarely pleasant. I also realized that there was really nothing I could do if someone said 'No.' It was out of my control. But most of all, I thought about the embarrassment of having to ask this favor and from several women. Just the asking struck me as humiliating; being refused would be even worse. Soon I found Alice watching Cindi on the Catherine Wheel. Cindi was tied face out to the spokes in an X-shape. The wheel was spinning slowly while her Master, Ben, cropped her in various places. I tapped Alice on the shoulder and motioned for her to step away. (There is nothing quite so disconcerting during a scene than having people not involved carrying on a conversation within earshot of the participants. It takes most people right out of their head space.) "Alice, Mr. Tad wants me to use the Ladies' Room, but I need the permission of all the women to do so. Can I have your permission?" I could feel my face reddening as I asked, and I couldn't maintain eye contact with Alice, so I was looking at her chin. She broke into a grin. "Sure, Jim, if I can watch." "Uh, well, I won't go in there if any women are there. That's part of the deal." "Well what if someone comes in while you're in there?" I thought about that. "He didn't say. I suppose I'm should stay in my stall, if I'm in there or leave if I'm not." "Well, if you want my permission, you have to let me watch. I'll let you go in first, but one of MY fetishes is that I like to watch men pee." "Okay...I suppose." "You come get me when you're ready." And she was back to watching Cindi on the spinning wheel. I looked around and found a few other mixed couples, all involved in something or other. No other women seemed free, as I could see Ms. Joy and Ms. Tami working out clients: one male and one female. I was about to turn back to tell Alice, when I saw a lesbian couple sitting at a table, talking. I didn't really know them. They'd been to maybe two other parties and seemed to keep to themselves. One was a stocky dark-haired woman in her forties, I suspect. She looked butch and acted very much in charge. The other one was younger, maybe late twenties, blonde hair that hung down to her shoulders, very feminine looking. Is that what they call a Lipstick Lesbian? They seemed engrossed in their conversation, so I approached to within a few feet and waited, out of earshot I hoped, until one recognized me. The older one finally looked at me. "Do you need something?" she asked in a neutral tone as her eyes seemed to examine me from head to toe. "Um, yes Ma'am, uh, Mr. Tad wants me to use the Ladies' Restroom, but I need the permission of all the women here to do so. May I have your permission?" "What's wrong with the Mens' Room?" "No-nothing that I know of," I said. Suddenly I was very nervous. I was trying to remember if they might have seen me in this get up before and thought probably not. As I said, we hadn't interacted before this moment. "He just doesn't think that this slut-boy (I could feel my face redden as I said those two words) should use a man's restroom." "Oh? But he thinks it's okay of you use MY restroom? Well it's not okay with me. So what do you do now?" I know my shoulders slumped. I hadn't thought about what to do if someone said 'No', which was silly since that was a likely response. "Well, I wouldn't go in if anyone else was in there. And I promise to make sure it is cleaner when I leave than when I go in. I'm sure Mr. Tad meant no disrespect to you or any of the ladies." Looking around, the older woman said, "Where is the Mr. Tad? I want to talk to him." I looked around quickly, spotted him, and pointed to where he was standing. At this point, her companion said, "Connie, let's not make a scene. I'm sure it won't hurt anything." Connie turned to her and slapped her face. The spot where she was struck turned bright red as the older woman said, "You don't think, and you don't contradict me, Missy!" The younger woman rubbed her cheek and fought back tears. "Yes, Ma'am," she said meekly. The older woman got up. "Come with me, both of you." She grabbed her submissive's hand and started over toward Mr. Tad, who was watching the whole thing from across the room. I meekly followed along as fast as I could. As I caught up with Connie and her girl, she was saying, "Are you Mr. Tad?" "Yes. And you are?" "I'm Connie, and this is Missy." Mr. Tad held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you both," he said with his best greeter's smile. "How may I help you? Has this, uh, this person been bothering you?" He pointed at me as he said this, but he did not look at me. Connie seemed to soften a trifle. "No, he has some cockamamie story about not being allowed to use the Men's and wanting to use our restroom. He said that was your idea." "Yes, it was my idea, but he has to have the permission of all the women not currently occupied. I don't intend to inflict this slut boy on anyone. He likes to be humiliated, among other things. So far it seems to be working nicely in that regard. If you don't want him in the Ladies', and I can't blame you, then he won't go in there." Connie mulled this over for a moment, then turned to me. "Have you asked everyone else?" "I've asked Alice and you, but all the other women are occupied at the moment. Alice gave conditional permission." Mr. Tad asked, "What kind of conditional permission?" "She wants to watch what I do, Sir. She says she likes to watch men pee." I knew my face was redder now, and I wondered what Mr. Tad was going to say about that. Mr. Tad turned back to Connie and Missie. "I'm sorry this slut boy bothered you. I'll see that it doesn't happen again. Please forgive the intrusion." Connie answered, "It's quite all right. I didn't know what was going on. I guess what you want to do is all right with us." "You are very kind, but I'll be making other arrangements for him." Connie looked at him a moment and then nodded as if she understood something that I did not..as yet. "Well, okay then. See you around the room." And she took Missy's hand and moved off. Mr. Tad turned to me. "Well, slut boy, was that embarrassing?" I admitted that it was. "We're just getting started, and it looks like you won't be using a restroom anytime soon. You'll be sure to let me know if you're in need, won't you?" "Yes, Sir." I was sort of beginning to feel a little pressure, but I decided that I'd rather wait. Maybe we would be done by the time I was in any difficulty. "Follow me," Mr. Tad said, and he turned and walked to the center of the large room. There is nothing in the center of the room as all of the equipment--the pillar where we met, the stocks, the X-shaped cross, and the Catherine's Wheel were spaced along the room's perimeter. Once there, he had me stand facing him with my hands behind my head and my legs spread maybe eighteen inches apart. Then he stood back and regarded me, walking slowly around. I closed my eyes. "Open those eyes, slut boy!" It was a command, and it was given in a loud enough voice that everyone in the room could hear it. "Good, now keep them open. I don't want you trying to hide from me. I want to see the slut lust in your eyes." Now he was standing in front of me, and though he isn't probably more than three inches taller than I am, it felt as if he were towering over me. I could smell his cologne and his sweet breath as he began lightly running his fingers over my hairy chest. "I want to see what turns you on. I'm going to see just how horny I can make you. And you are going to stand like this and not make a sound. I'll bet you can't be quiet for five minutes. I've seen sluts like you. You're a squealer, aren't you?" His fingertips were driving me wild with soft strokes and caresses. "Yes, Sir." I said. He slapped my left butt cheek. "I told you not to make a sound!" I swallowed hard and settled back into position. This was a test, I decided. He's testing me to see if I can actually follow instructions. Man, I wanted to move. He had gone back to caressing me: my sides, my front, my back, my cock through the fabric. I felt it stir a little, but I was so concentrating on not moving or making a sound--and I wanted to at least wriggle in keeping with the wonderful stroking he was doing. The next thing I knew, he had lowered the front of my red panties, exposing my package. He slipped the elastic of the panties under my balls so that my package was sort of pushed front and center. I continued to look straight ahead and not move even as he moved around behind me so that all of my front was exposed to anyone on that side of the room. Behind me now, Mr. Tad brought both of his arms around me and began to play with my nipples. That caused my cock to stir even more. "You like your titties played with, don't you slut?" This time I didn't answer. "Very good, slut. You learn quickly. That will be important as your training progresses. Now I want you to answer me. You like your titties played with don't you?" I answered in more like a whispered sigh, "Yes, Sir." "Louder, slut boy." "Yes, Sir," I said in a conversational voice. "No, I want you to say, 'Yes, Sir, this slut boy likes his titties played with,' and say it loudly enough that I could hear it if I was across the room." Oh, God. "Yes, Sir. This slut boy likes his titties played with." It felt like I shouted it. But even if I hadn't said it at all, my cock was now hard, so anyone looking--and the people in my field of vision were looking--could tell that I liked it. But then most of them already knew that. "Very good, slut boy. Now, as I continue to work on your pathetic tits, you will feel the urge to move and wiggle and moan. Keep your eyes open, but you may move--without moving your feet--as you feel the urge." Then he began to pinch and twist my nipples. They are connected directly to my cock. I've often used nipple play when masturbating because of the effect it has on me. Instantly I felt myself go rock hard, and I moaned and began to rub my ass on Mr. Tad's cock, which I could tell was hard, too. That didn't surprise me, but what did surprise me was that I felt pleased that I had made him hard. He began to play me like a musical instrument: light caresses for the soft parts, strong pinches for the loud parts. And I wiggled and wriggled and moaned and squealed like a girl. Soon I noticed that we were the center of attention. I could see couples of all types holding one another and caressing each other and kissing, as they were turned on by Mr. Tad's symphony on Jim the slut boy. I was embarrassed and turned on and loving it all. And it seemed to go on and on. Time both flew and stood still. Everything seemed to stand still but me. I jerked and wiggled and writhed like a wanton slut. But then that's what I am. Eventually, he began to slow, to bring me down from the writhing mass of need I had become. He brought me down slowly, and when at last he stopped I heard applause! I think if he hadn't been holding me, I might have collapsed. I suddenly felt just so worn out. My breath was coming in deep drags. My chest heaved. My nipples were on fire. All around me were people who had openly watched what felt to me like one of the more erotic things I had ever experienced. "Can you stand?" he asked, care and sympathy oozing from his voice. I nodded Yes. He put my hands at my side and looked me in the eye. Then he looked down at my erection. "Don't have to ask you if you liked that," he said with a chuckle. "Now we're gonna give the people a show." Huh? I thought. What had we been doing if only now we're gonna put on a show? But I didn't say anything. I was in total sub mode. I would do whatever he wanted. I wanted whatever he wanted. He came around in front of me and said, "Kneel." I knelt, keeping my eyes locked on his, feeling my heart pounding. I knew every eye was on us, but I could only see him. I could only hear him. "Unzip my pants." I ripped my eyes from his and pulled his zipper down. "Good, now take out my cock." It came out easily, but it was already hard, circumcised, maybe six inches long and an inch in diameter. I held it in my left hand and stared at it as it stared back at me. "You want that, don't you slutboy?" I nodded my head, keeping my eyes focused on on the cock staring with one eye back at me. "Say it." "I...I want it, Sir." "Say it all. Ask me for what you want." I knew everyone was watching, wondering if I would go through with it; maybe wondering, too, if he would go through with it. I knew he would go through with it. And I knew I would, too. I would let everyone in the room see me suck a man's cock. There was a part of me that was afraid...embarrassed...mortified. But that part was overwhelmed by the part of me that would do it. I knew what he wanted me to say and how he wanted me to say it. I took a deep breath and said, loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Mr. Tad, may I please suck your cock?" "Yes, slut boy. Suck my cock. That's a good slut boy." He spoke softly. There was no need for his voice to carry past me. I continued to stare, mesmerized I think, at his cock, and it stared back at me, unwinking. I was in this moment that I had fantasized about, yet it was nothing like my fantasies. Always in my fantasies I was naked in a room full of naked men, and my hands were cuffed behind me, and they lined up and shoved their cocks in my mouth. I was the passive receptacle for their lust. Plaything 01 But here, in a real life version, I was doing everything voluntarily. There were no restraints. It was not a raucus party. It was a typical BDSM play party that had just become my show, and I was doing everything voluntarily. I would not have picked this way of doing it, yet it felt like just the right way. "Go on," he said quietly, almost in a whisper. I sensed the whole room, men and women were waiting and watching...and hoping I would take that next step. I wasn't so much thinking all of these things as I was aware of them, and I was aware that this was only the beginning: an important beginning, to be sure, but only a beginning. I pulled myself to Mr. Tad's cock and kissed it softly. The room seemed to breathe out a collective sigh. Then I licked the head, tasting the skin and just a hint of urine, enough to let me know it wasn't a finger or a thumb. I felt an intake of breath from Mr. Tad. I put my lips around the head and ran my tongue over it and made a like sucking motion, like I would with a nipple. He slowly thrust himself farther into my mouth until it was full then pulled back. I let him go then put my right hand on his butt and my left cupped his balls lightly. They felt full and firm. I pulled him back to me, and he stepped into me slightly and placed his hands along the sides of my head behind my ears as if to balance us both better. I began to work my head back and forth along his cock. I could feel it growing in my mouth, flattening my tongue down. I was careful to keep my teeth from scraping him, to keep my mouth an O for his shaft to slide in and out of as I moved back and forth. He just held on. He did not force anything, let me move at my own pace. Time stopped. Nothing existed but this moment, this cock, this mouth, this man. And I remembered wondering why I had ever made such a big deal out of sucking a man's cock? I felt a slight pressure from his hands, and I knew he wanted me to pick up the pace, so I did. I increased the pace and increased the suction of my lips and mouth. I was thinking of how I would want my own cock sucked and tried to do the same for him. And I tried to take more of him into my mouth, slowly working it farther and farther back in my mouth until I could feel that I was just about to gag. Then I would try to make each stroke go almost to that spot and concentrated on increasing the tempo. I expected that at some point he would take over the pace, and he did. I could hear is breath coming is short rasps. "That's good," he said. "That's good." Feeling that he was getting close and would want to control things from this point, I took my hands off him and put them behind my back. The rhythm I had established he took over. Then there were three violent thrusts of his pelvis, and I could feel myself coming back to the gag point, but I didn't care. I felt his first spurt inside my mouth, a salty taste of warm cream. Then he pulled out of my mouth and shot the rest of his load into my face, on my nose, on my eyes, which were shut, on my forehead, on my cheeks. He plunged back into me one more time and held my head still as he finished emptying into me. Instinctively, I swallowed. Shortly, he began to shrink in my mouth and go limp. He relaxed his hold on me, which was never overpowering so much as insistent. I began to hear sounds, mostly breathing. A lot of breathing, some ragged, some controlled. And I smelled sex, not just the cum on my face, though I could smell that clearly, but also an indefinable musk of sex in the air. But I heard no talking. No, wait, that's not entirely true. I could hear some murmuring. And I began to feel some stirrings in those around us. "Clean me up," Mr. Tad said quietly. "Lick me clean and put me back inside and zip up my pants." All this I did, without regard to what anyone else might be saying or doing. "Now stand and let your friends see you." "Sir?" I asked confused. "Look around you." I did. When last my eyes had taken in the room, no one was within twenty feet of us. Now everyone, or so it seemed, was standing around us not more than five feet away. "Walk around the circle and look in everyone's eyes. Take a few seconds in front of each person. Look him or her in the eyes. Then come back to me and tell me what you see in those eyes." I swallowed, hard. I was down from the high of the scene, back in normal space. And I was afraid. I'm sure it showed in my face, cum covered though it was. "Don't be afraid," he said. But I was afraid. I felt rooted to the spot. Then he turned me to the right and led me over to Alice and positioned me a couple of feet from her. And I saw an expression on her face I had not seen before. It was friendly, but it seemed almost awestruck. I did not understand it. He moved me to the next person on my right. It was Ms. Joy, and she was beeming at me, and there were tears in her eyes. I moved on of my own volition, and next were Connie and Missy. Connie had her arms wrapped around Missy, comforting her, while Missy was shaking as if with silent sobs. Connie had a look of admiration on her face when she looked up at me. Then she dropped her eyes back to her Missy. Slowly I made my way around the circle. There were two gay men, smiling and crying as they held hands. Then a married couple I barely knew, Les and Diane. He nodded while she blew me a kiss. And there were others, and all had a look of happiness or awe or satisfaction or something I could not really name but that did not seem threatening or disgusted or in any way put off. When I had looked at everyone I returned to Mr. Tad who had returned to the center of the circle. "Sir," I said in a quavering voice, "I've looked at everyone." "And what did you see, dear boy?" "I...I'm not sure. No, I'm sure, but I'm not sure how to name it." "Then you must think about it for a bit. When you know, tell me. Meanwhile, let me clean you up." And he led me to the Men's Room and calmly, tenderly washed my face and pulled up my panties. I realized that I was crying silently. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as he washed his cum off me. "It was love, wasn't it, Sir?" "Yes," he answered. And he hugged me.