"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."
"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.
"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.