At the Club

I held his hand as we opened the door.

"Is this it?"

"Yes, baby. Scared?"

"A little."

We stepped inside, walking right past the adult toy store, although I let J. pause for a moment and look through the doorway at the variety of leather and chrome goodies. The cashier, with her dyed black hair and thin, penciled-on eyebrows, flashed him a seductive smile, but he didn't seem to notice. That's the kind of devotion I appreciate.

I tugged his hand, and led him away from the shop. His palms were damp. Sweet man.

"We're going downstairs," I said, smiling. He smiled too, but I could see a little flicker of fear in his warm brown eyes.

"Are we the only ones here?" he asked, glancing around nervously.

"Not quite."

The club did seem deserted, with just one a well-dressed, middle-aged couple visible in the far corner. They might have been anywhere – except she was on her knees, head bowed, hands clasped behind her back, as he spoke to her in hushed tones.

J. descended the stairs ahead of me, so I could watch the way his shoulders tensed, the way his long limbs moved gracefully. I had grown to love the sight of this body. Beautiful man.

The many interconnected rooms in the basement seemed empty too, but it was hard to see around the dimly lit corners. Light fixtures high on the walls cast an amber glow, but not very far. The floor was rough cobblestone, the atmospheric kind of flooring you had to be careful not to catch a heel in. And I was wearing the highest heels I owned.

"Cool," he said, nodding with approval. "Very dungeon-like."

Just as he began to relax, we were startled by the sound of a whip cracking, followed by a low moan.

"One!" a deep voice called. "How many more?"

"Nine more, Sir," came the hoarse woman's reply.

The whip cracked again. "Two!" She moaned again, but I thought I could hear her whisper, "Thank you, Sir."

I stood holding his hand, as we listened to this little drama being carried on out of sight, in a room at the end of the hall. "Three!" The snap of the whip was louder this time.

"Do you want to go watch them?" I asked.

"No, that's ok," he said, trying to laugh a little. "They seem to be busy."

I put my arm around his waist, adoring the way he fit in my arm. Tall, sexy man. I slipped my hand down between his pants and the satin panties he wore just for me, taking a moment to savor the feel of his ass beneath the smooth, shiny fabric.

"What color today, babe?"

"The baby blue ones," he said. "I know they're your favorites." They had been my gift to him months ago, on the anniversary of his first surrender to me. Thinking of that night again made me wet. I backed him up to the wall and pressed my crotch against his muscled thigh. He cupped one of my breasts tenderly.

"Ok, let's find a room of our own," I said, trying to make my tone reassuring. "If you still want to serve me."

"Oh, I do. Of course I do," he said, smiling down at me. "I would do almost anything for you."

"Almost?"

He laughed and leaned down to kiss the top of my head. "Anything. I would do anything for you."

"Good boy," I said. "We'll see, won't we?" I could feel him shudder.

We walked down the dark hall, glancing into the rooms. Most were empty. In one, a completely naked blonde woman was chained to the wall, her round breasts eyes swaying, her eyes clenched in pain. A dark, bearded man attached rubber-tipped clamps to her nipples with exquisite care.

"Stop, please stop," she choked. The man stroked between her legs for a few moments and applied a long vibrator to her nipples, until her face relaxed. Then began adjusting the clamps again. "Use your word, if you need to," he said sternly.

She shook her head no. "I'm fine, Sir." Then, as he twisted a clamp, she began to whimper again. "Stop, please stop."

We walked on by, strolling like we were at a museum, gazing at the exhibits. The smell of lust and leather filled the air, and the wall lamps cast long shadows, giving the whole basement a spooky glow.

"Fascinating," J muttered.

Finally, near the end of the hall, I found the room I was looking for. "In here, baby," I said, and walked him over to a leather discipline bench. Right next door, we could hear the sadist finishing his punishment. "Ten!" he shouted, and the whip crack was so loud it made my ears ring. Or maybe that was his woman screaming. "Is that enough?" he demanded.

"Yes," she whispered.

"That's really up to me, isn't it?" he barked, bringing the whip down again. "Ten more for forgetting that!" He must have closed the door to their little private hell then, because the snap of the whip and the screams were muffled from that point on.

J. seemed relieved. He looked around our room. "This is it?"

"Yes. This is where you will serve me. Take off your pants."

"Can we close our door?"

"No, we cannot close the door," I said, without smiling. "Take off your pants."

He chuckled a nervous little chuckle and stepped out of his Dockers, revealing the baby blue satin panties stretched over his gorgeous, smooth cock. Already hard. Probably hard since I greeted him with a kiss, an hour ago.

"Your shirt, too," I said.

He pulled off his tee-shirt. Broad chest, relatively flat stomach. Sweet little butt. Sexy man.

I leaned down to plant a kiss on his belly, which made him shiver.

"I want you to lie down on the bench face down," I said.

"It's not long enough, I don't think."

"You can let your arms and legs dangle off," I said. "Trust me."

I helped him climb onto the contraption, one of the few such benches I'd ever seen with fully and independently adjustable legs. It was invented by an architect friend of mine, years ago. Marty lived up in the Pacific Northwest now, probably designing other delightful instruments of torture.

"Lay your face here," I said, indicating the little leather shelf. "Now just hold still a minute."

There were leather straps conveniently attached to each leg of the bench. I yanked down J.'s baby blue panties and left them dangling around one leg, then busied myself strapping down each ankle, each wrist, buckling them as tightly as they would go. At home we used silk scarves, or strips of elastic bandage. Here, he would learn what real discipline felt like.

I raised the back legs of the bench a little, and lowered the front, so he was tipped slightly head down, his white ass invitingly aimed upward, his legs spread a little by the bench.

"How's that? Comfortable?"

"Not really, no."

"Want to stop?"

"No. I want to serve you. I want this."

"Good, baby," I said. I waited a full minute, smiling down at the sight of his helpless body strapped down, spread for me. "Can you escape, ya' think?"

"No, I'm stuck to this thing pretty tight."

"Try for me, ok? Try to escape."

He casually tugged on each limb. "Nope, I'm tied down."

"Try harder, ok?"

I couldn't see his face, but could feel his puzzlement.

Again he tried to tug each limb free, then relaxed on the bench.

I slapped his ass as hard as I could with my bare hand, so hard it stung my fingers and left a perfect palm print. He cried out, but then remembered it was part of his duty to be silent.

"Struggle to get away," I told him. "I like to see you struggle." I slapped him again, as hard as the first time. He immediately began to thrash around, shoulders and hips moving, head arching, trying to get up.

I could see a tear fall off the little leather head shelf, onto the room's brick floor.

"Ok, ok, that's enough," I said, tenderly patting the red, raised welts on his ass. "You're going to be good for me, aren't you, baby?"

"Oh, yes Ma'am," he said. "I promise."

"Good. Now I want you to spread yourself wide open for me."

He raised his hips a little, and attempted to spread his thighs, but he was too firmly bound to open very far. It was sweet to see him try, though.

I leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Do you want me to fuck you, baby?"

"Yes," he sighed. "Yes, please."

I put on a latex glove, letting him hear it snap against my wrist, and drizzled some cold baby oil on his ass, letting it run down into the crack between his buns.

"How is your cock doing there, squashed against the table?"

"There seems to be a little hollowed out place for it," he said. "But I'm so hard for you."

I stroked the oil against his anus, then probed in gently with the tip of my index finger. He gasped.

"You like that, baby?"

"Yes I do, Ma'am," he said.

"Good, because I like to fuck you with my hand," I said, pushing two fingers in suddenly, as deep as they would do. He moaned and tried to calm himself. I pulled the fingers slowly out, almost all the way, and then plunged them in. I worked his ass for a few minutes, enjoying the sight of him trying to rise up to meet my hand.

"God, I'm going to cum," he said. I stopped suddenly, and pulled my hand away.

"No," I said. "No, you won't, until I give permission."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, clenching his ass cheeks. "I won't."

I slapped him again, with all the strength I could muster, across the backs of his thighs. Then I began searching through the little goodie bag I brought with, for the leather riding crop. My palm was beginning to sting.

In the bag, I found the leather sleep mask, and slipped it on over his eyes.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"It's just to help you feel less shy."

"Shy? I'm not shy in front of you, Ma'am."

"Not in front of me, silly. In front of our guests."

I had heard footsteps coming down the long stone corridor, and now he heard them too.

"Maybe we should close the door?" he asked feebly, his legs beginning to shake.

"No, let's be neighborly," I laughed.

A couple appeared in the doorway. Was it our friends from next door? The sound effects of torture had stopped in here, and the small brunette woman who now entered the room did seem to have been crying. Her nose was red, her eye makeup smeared. The man, who wore little round glasses and looked like a young computer geek, had his arm around her protectively.

Right behind them, a leering, unwashed man with a big belly strode in. He smelled of beer and cigars. The three stood gawking at my tied-down prey, with his bright red ass and well-oiled anus.

"What have we HERE?" the woman asked, giggling.

"I'm training him," I said. "Come on in."

They stood in a circle around the bench, chatting. "Hi," J. said, trying to twist his head around in their direction.

I whispered to him, "Shhh. Behave yourself. Trust me."

The couple began talking quietly to each other, but the man with the big belly was bending over to get a closer look at the handsome captive on the bench. "He looks all ready to me," he said.

"He's not quite ready, but you can watch me get him ready, ok?" I told him, removing a dildo from my bag.

"Ready for what?" J. asked. His voice was thin and shaky.

"I told you, Shhhh," I said, positioning the dildo at the opening to his anus. "Now honey, this is going to hurt a little bit. But it will help you hurt less later. Push out as I push in."

I slowly, steadily pushed and twisted the dildo in, giving him a little time to stretch in between thrusts.

The black plastic dildo was much bigger than the little butt plug we sometimes used at home. When all 8 inches were deeply embedded in him, I let him rest a moment, and then began slowly moving it in and out. He moaned, obviously in some pain, but bit his lip, saying nothing.

"Taking it like a man, hey?" the big man asked, laughing, leaning close enough so J. could smell his foul breath. I could smell him too, and I glared at him quickly to back off.

As I worked the dildo in and out, I kissed J.'s back, trying to reassure him. I let my long hair trail over his bare thighs in a way that made him shudder. I kissed the backs of his knees, and licked his ears. Delicious man.

Then I stepped back to inspect him. The couple had stopped talking and now watched us closely.

"That's how I like to see 'em, just like that," the woman said. "Ass filled, helpless. He looks great like that."

"He's a great-looking guy," I replied. "But he does look especially nice this way."

The fat man had begun to stroke his own cock, through his clothes, and now let his own pants drop, exposing a cock nearly as long as the dildo, and perhaps bigger around. He seemed to have remembered his manners.

"May I?" he asked.

"Yes, I think he's ready now," I said.

Now I got to see my captive really struggle. "Wait!" he said. "Wait, I don't know …"

I pulled the dildo out quickly, and brought the riding crop down hard where the dildo had been. He squealed.

"It's not up to you any more now, is it?" I asked. "You have to trust me."

I nodded to the big man, who stepped up and laid his hard cock against J.'s helpless thigh as he covered himself thickly with lube.

"Aw, this ain't gonna hurt much," he said, easing himself into the stretched-out opening.

"His first time?" he asked me. I nodded.

"Well, if he behaves himself, it won't be his last," he said, grunting as he pushed himself in deeper.

We could both hear J. whimpering. The woman was looking down at him, beaming, apparently pleased with the sound. The big man was slow, but clearly intent on finding all the pleasure he could in J.'s tight, virgin ass. He thrust in hard, wiggled back and forth, then pulled out a little, then leaned in again, until he was resting his full weight on my tall slave.

"You are being so good," I told J. "Serving me so well. But we're not done yet."

He made a low whining sound, and said, "Please."

"Please what, baby?" I asked. "Please stop?" He shook his head.

I turned to the couple. "Would you like to help us now?"

The man was obviously very ready. I worried a little, in case he was the cruel man we had heard earlier. I kept an eye on him, ready to intervene if necessary to protect my lover.

He walked to the head of the bench, and pulled J.'s head up by his hair.

"That head shelf folds down," I said, but he was already figuring that out. J.'s head hung down limply. but lifted by his hair, he could just reach the smaller man's cock with his lips. His blindfolded face turned from side to side, as he felt the cock brush against his lips.

"Do it," I told him. "Suck him well, baby. I want you to. I insist."

The fat man had stopped pumping and had his eyes closed, head upturned, as if in communion with fertility gods or something. Probably just trying to make it last. When he felt the younger guy began to pump, he joined in.

The man fucking J.'s mouth now held him by the ears, taking him roughly. When both men would thrust forward at the same time, J.'s body arched, and he made little gagging noises.

"Do you like this, babe?" I asked him. "Now you're being fucked. Now you know what it feels like."

Tears were falling down his cheeks, but he nodded, his mouth stuffed with the little man's surprisingly long cock, his ass stuffed with the fat man's hard-on.

The woman was getting very excited watching this. So was I.

She stood close to me, then reached over and touched my breast, looking at me with wide eyes. But I gently pulled her manicured hand away, and helped her slide it under J.'s arching body.

"Him, honey," I said. "Do him, not me."

She shrugged and grasped J.'s cock, wiggling her little hand to stroke him.

I could tell by the way J. was panting that he was about to cum. I signaled them all to stop. Just then, another little crowd passed by in the hallway, and paused at the door.

"Come in," I said, motioning. "Help me train this fine slave."

One man held back, looking into other rooms, obviously for a woman. But the other two walked over, nodding in greeting to me, and undid their pants. They seemed to know what I was offering.

The black man took out his cock, which was huge, and began rubbing it against J.'s waist. The shorter, balding guy had a smaller cock, but he began pumping it in his hand like a jackhammer, squinting as he watched the other men rhythmically thrusting.

J. was crying a little, but I think it was the frustration at not being able to cum. I tapped the woman on the back and asked her to stop teasing his poor tortured cock. She stepped back to watch with me.

"Ok, men," I said. "I want to see some cum decorating this cooperative boy."

The men grinned. The big guy and the computer geek pulled out of J.'s holes reluctantly, and I flipped up the shelf for his head. He gasped as the man at his head squirted cum into his face and lips, then sighed as he felt two more men squirt hot cum onto his back. The fat guy abandoned protocol and shoved into him one last time, unloading deep inside him.

The woman squealed in delight. "Now that's beautiful," she said, watching the cum drip from his face and back onto the floor. J. began pumping his ass up and down, whimpering.

"Yes, baby," I whispered into his ear. "You can cum now, too."

He screamed through his orgasm, his bound legs and arms thrashing, bringing curious onlookers to the door. But I waved them away. I nodded in gratitude to my guests, and watched them pull their clothes back on and leave, wandering off to see what depravity they could witness in other rooms.

I left J. alone, strapped to the bench, for just a moment, returning with a hot, wet towel. I sponged him off, then dried him briskly.

When I had him tidied up, I pulled off the blindfold. He blinked a few times, and twisted his head around to see, but found the room empty.

"I never saw them," he said. "How many were there? It felt like a dozen."

"Four men and a woman," I laughed. "Your own little orgy."

I knelt to unstrap each limb, rubbing and kissing the places where the bindings had bitten into his skin. Then I helped him sit up. I smoothed his disheveled hair, and straddled the bench, facing him.

"I am so proud of you," I said, leaning forward to kiss the sweat from his forehead. "You were brave. You were silent. You did something you've never done before."

"I did a couple of things I've never done before," he said. "It was amazing."

"Did you like your little surprise?" I asked.

"So much," he said. "So much." He was near tears again. "Love you."

"Love you too, babe," I said. "And don't worry, you'll make it up to me. We're going to go home now and you can show me how grateful you are."

He wrapped his long arms around me in a warm hug, then kissed my mouth, then hugged my head to his chest, where I could listen to his heart pounding.

We sat like that for a long time. Two lovers in a dungeon.