My Journey of Discovery Ch. 03

I expelled the water. Much cleaner looking this time; not nearly the mess it was before. I was not nearly as disgusted by what ran down my legs this time. Out came the hose again and I felt the spray pelting my naked body, washing away the accumulated dregs of a lifetime. Was it a metaphor for what was happening in my head; an enema of the mind?

Mistress lowered me and held me close, kissing me passionately. I returned the kiss with equal passion. "Why don't you take a shower now. You'll feel much better. After, you can dress to leave and we'll have lunch."

"Yes, Mistress."

She patted me on the ass and I flinched. It was still sore from my previous paddling. Why did I feel the way I did about a woman who just walloped my ass while I sucked her slave's cock?

******

I sat in the parking lot staring up at the nondescript building that was 'The Woodshed'. I imagined you didn't want to advertise the fact you were a BDSM club to your neighbors, although they consisted of commercial business's and warehouses. I was a bundle of nerves, filled with both trepidation and excitement, not unlike my first prom with a boy. We had dated for several months and I know he expected something good to happen, even if I was not quite ready to surrender my virginity.

My father, an ex-military man, wise in the ways young men think, told me he knew I would be pressured for sex by the boys I dated. He suggested to me I should consider sucking their cocks rather than engage in sexual intercourse. He advised me boys would happily engage in oral sex as a substitute for regular sex and I could not get pregnant by using my mouth. I thought it odd at the time he would tell me to suck cock, but his advice actually served me well. None of my boyfriends pressured me for more if I was willing to fellate them. So just as I imagined sucking my boyfriend's cock for the first time, I imagined what I would be surrendering to unknown strangers for the first time.

I left Mistress's farm as planned at 12:30, made the trip North to Gainesville to get the things I would need for the next couple weeks. Not a lot of clothes, as Mistress would require me to go naked on the farm, my laptop, so I could continue my research and take notes. I had an electronic journal application on both my phone and laptop which I never used before, but thought I should start using now. I needed to start exploring the thoughts and feelings I was experiencing in order to document my life as a submissive for my research. I grabbed personal items like tampons, my toothpaste, shampoo and deodorant, in the event I found myself away from the farm for any extended period of time.

I arrived early and sat in the parking lot for a half hour, a nervous wreck. My vibrator was running and I was letting the sensations sweep through me while it did, knowing even if it would not let me cum, at least it would leave me aroused enough to face whatever happened inside. Stopping just short of my climax as it usually did, I arched up off the car seat and removed it, sticking it in the plastic shopping bag which went into the large book bag I was using as my purse for tonight, big enough for my clothes, phone, shoes, and personal effects. It was almost five and time to face the music.

The parking lot was full. Apparently, Orlando was the home of more than one type of Disney World and the adults were not afraid to play either. The normal operating hours were 8 PM to 4 AM on Friday and Saturday, but there were often other events held there, a bondage dojo, a photography workshop, tonight's Safe Space and others. The door to the place had a large sign saying 'Adults Only - No cameras or cell phones allowed except during Photography Workshops. Surrender your devices to the cashier before entering'.

I went through the door into a dim hallway with a cashiers window and nothing else except a more imposing door beyond it. I stopped at the cashiers.

"Are you a member?" The female asked.

"No," I replied.

"Guest of a Member?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "I don't think so." I was unsure if Mistress was a member, but even if she was, she was not here with me. "I was told the fee for visitors was $20 when I called a few days ago." I pushed a twenty through the window.

"Dominant or Submissive?"

"I'm here for the Submissive Safe Space," I replied.

"Will you be surrendering your clothes?"

I thought about that for a moment. Considering the other things I was tasked with undertaking tonight, clothes would be superfluous. "How do I do that?" I asked.

"You'll be given a locker key. The number on the key will match a corresponding locker. You can put your clothes and any other items you don't want to carry in the locker and wear the key around your neck."

"I'll do that, please."

"I need to take any cameras, cell phones or other picture taking devices from you now," she said. I dug in my bag and pulled out my cell phone, handing it to her. She gave me a receipt. "Make sure you hold onto your receipt as it's the only way to get your phone back." I nodded and stuck the receipt in my bag. She handed me a key on a chain. She pointed to the double door beyond. "Through there."

"Thank you."

When I reached the door, I paused, my hand on the handle. You can do this, I told myself. You can do this. I pushed through the door.

The lockers were in a room to the left. There were benches as well to sit down. I removed my clothes and shoes, put everything but a pen and small notebook in my bag, set everything in a locker, locked it and put the key around my neck. The next set of doors led to a regular playground of all things sexually oriented. Everything in Mistress's dungeon, times ten. I did not want to look around right away; I had to find my sister subs first. I saw a fairly large group of men and women gathered around some furniture in one corner of the cavernous room and decided to check there first. As I approached, I noted some were naked as I was, some wore lingerie, some leather, some latex, and some wore street clothes.

"Is this the Safe Space?" I asked when I joined the group.

"It is," a man answered, naked except for a cock and ball ring.

"My name is Beth Wilson and I'm new to this lifestyle, with a lot of questions. I was hoping some of you would be willing to speak to me about your lives as submissives. I'm trying to decide if I should apply for a position as a sub to a new master for a year."

"The ad in the paper," someone guessed.

"Yes, the Gainesville Sun," I replied.

"It was in the Sentinel as well," they said. "I understand it was in several other papers as well." Thereby confirming my suspicions it was widespread.

"Can you help me out? I don't need your names or any specifics. I'm just looking for general information."

"I see you have a collar," a female said. "Who's your current Master or Mistress?"

"Mistress L of Ocala. She's training me so I'll know exactly what I'm facing if I'm chosen for the position," I answered.

"I thought Mistress L only dealt with male slaves," the male with the cock rings said.

"It's only for two weeks. I have to submit an application and questionnaire by May 1 and I really know absolutely nothing about it. I met her at the Ocala Munch and asked her to teach me as much as she could in two weeks."

They looked around at each other and I saw several of them nod to each other. Thank you, Jesus.

"Where do you want to do this?" The female who questioned my collar asked.

I looked around and saw a couple chairs in close proximity currently unused. "Right over there," I pointed.

"I'll start out," she said. "When we're done, I'll send someone else over."

"Thank you so much, everyone. I appreciate your help." I walked over and took a seat, the woman taking the other. The chairs were leather or leather like vinyl. Easier to clean up, I imagined.

I started asking questions, taking notes, and for the next two and a half hours, I spoke to fifteen different subs, some male, some female, and one she-male who had both the most beautiful breasts and a cock. I spoke to nurses, teachers, accountants, businessman, secretaries and a police officer. Since I already met a lawyer and fire fighter, I saw the people who chose this lifestyle ran the full gamut of professions. It was no different than any other random gathering of people you might find in any nightclub on a Saturday night, except this one was a BDSM dungeon.

How long they'd been submissive went from me, less than a week, to thirty-five years. Each had a different story of how they discovered their submissiveness and at what age. Some were into pain, some were not. Some had Masters, some Mistresses, two were switches who were currently subbing. Some were married to their dominant, some to other people and some were single. There was no single common denominator except this: the strong emotional connection between the Sub and the Master. All of them believed, even those married to other people; their connection with their dominant was the most important one of their lives. The ones who told me said it was the most honest relationship they had. There was no question of their importance to their dominant. They could not say the same about their spouse.

A little before 8:00, the Safe Space started to break up and the group of subs started drifting away to find their dominants. The last one I was questioning asked me if I was staying for the fun and games or leaving now.

"Mistress has assigned me three tasks to accomplish while I'm here. First, I have to find Master Jack. You wouldn't happen to know who he is, would you?"

"I'm familiar with Master Jack. He doesn't usually get here until 8:30. Would you like to look around before he gets here, see what The Woodshed offers?"

"Would your dominant mind?"

"He won't be here until 10. He has to work late tonight."

"If you don't mind, I'd appreciate a tour. What would you normally be doing while you're waiting for him?"

"Sitting in a corner somewhere like a mouse, or he has a friend who can dominate me in his absence, but he's not here yet either."

I stood up and said, "Let's look around then. Thank you. Is it okay if you tell me your name? Saying 'hey, you' seems awkward."

"Master calls me Dina."

"Calls you Dina or is that your name?"

"It's not my name. He chooses to call me Dina and I accept it." I nodded in understanding. She waved her hand around. "This is the main room as you can see. It's kind of split up into different sections. Pillories and stocks here, electronic fucking machines down there, whipping stations over there, hot wax and electro-shock across the hall, latex fetish stuff next to it..."

"Can I interrupt for a second?"

"Sure. This isn't an official tour."

"Electronic fucking machines? Is that a thing?"

"You've never ridden a Sybian?" Dina asked, astounded.

"I've never done a lot of things before this week. What's a Sybian?"

"Follow me," she said, taking me by the arm and leading me in the direction of the fucking machines.

When we got to that area, she pointed to seven gadgets lined up in a row. "Those are Sybians," Dina said. They looked like someone took a heavy boxing bag, cut it in two lengthwise and planted vibrators on them. Two had a little ridge which would fit nicely in a woman's slit, three others had progressively larger cock pieces on them, and two had both cock and ass pieces on them, one larger than the other. You straddled the bag, riding it like a horse. I saw a woman riding one and I had to admit she looked quite happy doing so.

"You've ridden one of them before?" I asked.

"As often as Master will let me," she declared.

"It just looks like vibrators mounted on punching bags. I had a vaginal/anal vibrator in me until I left my car to come in. What makes it so special?"

"It's not just the cocks and plugs vibrating; it's the whole unit so your legs, your bottom, everything is being stimulated. They don't just vibrate either, the controls allow some thrusting or spinning inside you. There's nothing like it as far as I'm concerned. I cum so much when I ride one."

"Can you ride it now?"

"I'm not allowed to climax without my Master present."

"My Mistress has the same restrictions on me except they were relaxed once I passed through the doors here and they start again when I leave."

There were other machines as well, which worked on a reciprocating principle and plunged silicone cocks into cunts and/or asses over and over again. The person fucked had no control over the machines and would have to wait until the operator turned it off. A man was strapped to one table and having his ass reamed repeatedly by a thick, nine inch dildo. He was groaning loudly and I was sympathetic. I knew my ass would be getting pounded later, but eventually, Master Gregory would cum and it would be over. His ordeal could go on for several hours.

"Let's go," Dina said. "I'll show you some of the private rooms." She led me toward the back of the hall.

We went through another door into a hallway with three rooms on either side. All of the rooms had red lights over the door, two of which were lit. Dina led me to one of the unlit doors and showed me inside.

"These can be reserved for private parties or specific scenes you want to try," Dina informed. "The staff sets them up to your specifications. Whatever furniture, implements, or equipment you want can be brought in here for a price. Everything from a bondage dungeon, to a pain party, to a glory hole haven can be set up in one."

"Glory holes. I've heard the term before but don't know what it means. Do you know?" I asked.

"Essentially, it's anonymous fucking and sucking," Dina replied. "A true glory hole is nothing more than a hole in the wall. Someone is on one side of the wall to suck any and all cocks put through the hole on the other side. It will sometimes be set up so the person is fucked instead. They can't see who's doing the fucking anymore than they can see who owns the cock coming through the hole to be sucked. I understand some of the larger truck stops will have glory holes set up and a male or female on the other side will get the trucker ready for another nine hours on the road. I think it's rather funny. I'm sure a lot of truckers are somewhat homophobic and if they realized how many times it's a man on the other side of the hole instead of woman, they'd be appalled. My Master had me work a glory hole for three hours once. He wanted to humiliate me after I disobeyed him. It worked. I was humiliated. I must have swallowed a half gallon of cum."

I glanced at my watch. It was almost quarter to nine.

"Dina, I need to find Master Jack. Can you bring me to him?"

"Why do you need to see Master Jack?" Dina asked.

"Mistress wants me to be able to deep throat cocks. She feels it will help me be chosen by the Dominant in the advertisement if I can. I'm sure she's right. She said Master Jack is an excellent instructor."

Dina looked at me a moment before closing the door and leading me back to the main rumpus room.

"You looked at me funny right now when I told you Master Jack was teaching me to deep throat. Is there something I should know?"

"Expect to drool a lot."

"That's an odd thing to say," I said.

"You'll know what I mean shortly."

"Can't you tell me more?"

"It's not my place to say. I'm sure your Mistress would have informed you if she wished you to know."

The implication of her words scared me a little. There was something about Master Jack's instruction Dina obviously didn't care for, but she was right. If Mistress wanted me to know, she would have told me. She told me Master Gregory would be gentle when he took my anal virginity. She told me Master Lamar was big and thick and would cum buckets, but nothing about Master Jack except he would have me sucking seven inch cocks before he was done.

"Dina, can you deep throat?"

"I can deep throat my Master. His cock is average though."

"Do you have any words of advice for me?"

"Yeah. Learn fast."

"I mean how do you do it?"

She stopped and looked around, wondering if she should say anything or if Mistress wanted me to learn Master Jack's way.

"Have you ever gagged on a piece of food you swallowed?" Dina asked.

"Only if it went down the wrong pipe," I replied.

"What's different between a piece of steak you're swallowing and a cock, other than you can chew the steak into smaller bits. They're both pieces of meat. Both should be equally capable of gagging you, but the cock does and the steak doesn't. What's different?"

She watched me earnestly, expecting me to answer, but I was not sure of the answer she was looking for. I thought for a moment. What was the difference? A big juicy steak, chew, swallow. Slave's cock today, me trying to take it down and gagging each time it reached my throat. Steak, chew, swallow. Cock, throat, gag.

"I swallow!" I exclaimed in sudden inspiration.

"Remember that," Dina said, leading me once again.

Swallow, I thought following her. Is that the trick?

Dina led me to a tall, lanky man wearing leather pants with a flap over his cock which could be opened by releasing two snaps. He obviously believed in being able to get to his equipment quickly. He had a scraggly, patchy beard, long hair, dark brown, but with gray hairs intermingled in the brown. He was bare chested with what I would call a sunken chest and a very slight, but noticeable, pot belly.

Dina knelt at his feet and I quickly followed, two steps behind her.

"Master Jack, Mistress L has directed her slave to seek cock sucking lessons from you," she nodded towards me. "She asked I help her find you. Please forgive her if she's tardy. I believed you would be late tonight."

"I received word from Mistress L. I've been waiting for her."

"Then the fault is all mine. You may inform my Master if you're displeased."

"I was late. I only got here five minutes ago. I'm not displeased."

"Thank you, Master Jack." Dina rose to her feet and left.

"Stand up, slave. Let me look at you."

I stood up and assumed the pose Mistress said was common. Master Jack ran his hands over my breasts, down my sides and over my hips, then cupped my cunt.

"Turn around," he ordered.

I turned and faced away from him which allowed him to stroke my bottom and run his hand up between the cheeks of my ass.

"Very nice," he said. "Eminently fuckable."

"Thank you, Master Jack."

He led me to a wide, padded board and adjusted it so the back of the board was behind my neck, then he secured me to it with wide straps around my waist, hips, thighs and calves. There was a wide strap over my upper arms as well, but nothing near my wrists. I could use my hands, but barely. He passed a rope around my chest and tied the rope securely. putting my breasts in bondage as well, knotted twists making them stick out like cones. He stepped back to check his work and found it satisfactory. He opened a drawer and pulled something leather out. At first I though it was a whip, but he held it in front of me and I got a good look at it, and it was not a whip, nor anything else I recognized.

"Do you know what this is?" He asked.

"No, Master Jack. I've never seen one before."

"This is a ring gag or open mouth gag. I'm going to use this on you to hold your mouth open. You will not be able to speak after it's in place. Since you can't say 'Poughkeepsie' which I was informed was your safe word, you'll need to slap the board with your hand, twice in a row, so I know it's intentional. That's your safety signal. Your Mistress feels it most important you learn this skill, so I don't want you to use it willy-nilly. Only if you feel you will pass out should you not signal. Do you understand?"

Pass out! What the hell. Was he going to strangle me? No, Mistress would not let him strangle me. "Yes, Master Jack," my mouth dry as I said it. Little did I know, it would be dry for the last time as he worked with me. Drool was right