Stuck in The Stocks

Stuck in The Stocks

I knew I wanted to visit a gloryhole. I'd been to glory holes on other trips, in other towns and always enjoyed feeding the cocksuckers. As long as I wasn't the one sitting on the bench it was all fine by me. So here I was in a new town for a convention and this was a chance to get a little wild. I looked up adult stores and took a taxi to one, first making sure I had about forty dollars in singles to feed the machine.

When I got to the bookstore I discovered there weren't any arcades. Disappointed, I checked out a swinger mag, then asked some of the other patrons for the scoop. I learned there was a sex club about a mile away, and it was a warm night, so I walked, reflecting on the thrill of glory holes: you never know what the person on the other side is going to do to you. You just have to trust that they have a talented tongue.

When I arrived the place had a decidedly BDSM vibe, especially the plaque above the counter which read: "Our safeword is for pussy's, but only an idiot forgets it." Regardless, since the membership fee was less than I expected to pay out in singles at the ABS, I filled out the membership forms hastily and entered.

I wandered around exploring the place. They didn't have any booths but they had a sauna, a hot tub, a Turkish bath, and what they called a toy lounge.

All of the first areas seemed too steamy on a warm summer's night so I checked out the last one. In my mind I expected to see walls covered with dildoes, and costumes for sale, but that wasn't what I found at all.

It was more like a medieval themed lounge with a bar. And it had these dim hallways leading to various rooms.

Mingling and meeting with others over drinks to flirt and arrange for casual sex wasn't anonymous enough for me even if the crowd did include some hot women and apparently, few ugly people. Still, I just wanted to get my cock sucked without seeing who was doing it. Preferably by a pretty woman, or even an ugly woman, but a man would do just fine.

I peeked my head into one room and saw handcuffs dangling from the ceiling on long chains. Not for me. Well, maybe if a hot fox were kneeling there with her arms hoisted high... but sadly the room was empty. Just before I closed the door I spied an imposing metal mace on the wall among the whips hanging there. I gave a little shudder to think that anyone here would use it - until I noticed that it was fastened to the wall quite permanently - unlike the whips.

The next chamber was full of padded sex furniture on which a receptive person could be positioned for various activities. I pictured pornstars spread out for my enjoyment. Some creepy dude was loitering outside the entryway making eyes at me with suggestive intent, but I ignored him, even as he asked me, "Dom or sub?" When I didn't answer he rephrased his question, "Restrainor or restrainee?"

Behind the next door I found a pitch black room with black walls and no light, save what shone through the door. I'm not sure I understood the appeal. But a foursome squeezed past me going into the room, obviously very excited to be there.

There was only one more door and I held out hope. On the door was a sign that read 'Salle au Pilori'. I didn't know the words but when I looked inside the room it had promise. I saw a large coffin shaped box on wheels in the center of the room but more importantly, an obvious gloryhole at the far end. There was a rectangular Flemmish oil painting on the wall - Pilgrims drowning a witch, and other scenes of people with their hands or feet imprisoned while townsfolk threw rotten fruit at them.

Entering the eerily quiet chamber I examined the box and the hole. On the wall above the hole it said "The Test." The hole was as big as a basketball but was blocked by a panel on the other side save for a tiny hole too small for a cock. A peephole? Peering through the hole there seemed to be nothing over there. It wasn't at all obvious how to use the glory hole. The only clue being the single word engraved on the panel: 'Innocent'.

The box was large enough to lay on top of, and had the same basketball sized hole in the top. Again there was a panel on the other side of the hole with a small peephole hole in it and the same engraved word. I pushed on the panel only to discover that it then split into two panels that swung apart, allowing access for one's cock. Behind the first panel was a second one which had a glory hole in it. On this panel was engraved the word 'Guilty'. I surmised it was a milking table - and that would do just fine as it was virtually a glory hole.

I climbed up on the chest, pushing the panels apart so I could insert my penis and balls. The panels seemed spring loaded and kept closing, which made it quite difficult to get myself inserted without having them pinch me. Finally, the first set of panels, with the hole the size of a peephole, opened wide, again revealing the second panel which had the glory hole in it.

With some work I eventually could manage it by prying apart one set of panels while allowing the second set to close around my cock and balls. I must have been doing it wrong and I wished there were instructions. It was a tight glory hole but it would work. I just wouldn't be able to thrust.

I waited about ten minutes when a woman completely clad in vinyl came in, followed by a naked man in a latex hood. The two of them knew right where to find a door in the cabinet, whereupon she ordered her servant to climb inside.

Immediately he started fondling my cock and balls causing me to grow rock hard. The woman ran her hands up and down my body adding a delightful sensual element to the experience.

He wasted no time in starting his fabulous sucking on my cock and when she heard him moaning she changed from rubbing my body to exploring and poking at my anus with her black gloved hand.

His cocksucking was outstanding and I grew to like her squishy prodding so I relaxed, letting it all happen to me. When I shot my load her finger was jammed inside me up to her last well lubed knuckle. My cock spasmed and for the first time I felt my anal ring contract on an object as I bucked against the wooden box. I swear it was the biggest load of my life and I absolutely loved it, disappointed only that I wouldn't be back this way again.

The mysterious woman snapped off her glove, throwing it away. Then patting my bum, thanked me for my submission, and left with her plaything. I got a better look at her as she left, noticing that her body was shapely and svelte from behind.

Contrary to what she said, I hadn't considered my act to be submissive at all. After all, I was the one getting my cock sucked by the faggot. But I didn't care about semantics and had enjoyed my night out greatly. The slave's mouth had been warm and wet and he was very skilled.

The panel hugged my package even more tightly now and I couldn't figure out how to undo its grasp. I reached under myself clawing at the panels but they wouldn't budge and there appeared to be no clasp.

Waiting in the room the first time had been anticipatory. But the waiting now was filled with worry. How long until someone would come show me how to get free?

Perhaps fifteen long minutes elapsed when someone entered through another door behind me. I hid my worry by forcing my voice to be calm as I said, "I'm glad you're here. The mechanism is perplexing. Will you help me out?"

By his shoes I knew it was a man, but he didn't say anything. He merely started to push my box across the room. Sensing that he didn't understand I pleaded again, "The panels won't open. Can you tell me how?"

The unseen stranger pushed me toward the hole in the wall, then pushing on the panels in the wall, opened them wide. Before I could clarify he pushed my box right up to the wall, placing my head through the basketball sized hole. With a flick of his wrist the panel with the larger hole closed upon my neck trapping me further. Then he was gone.

I should have screamed for help but I was too embarrassed to admit I didn't understand how to operate the contraption. I bet the instructions were in the papers I'd signed but didn't read when I first got here. I would just explain it to the next person to come along.

When no one arrived I searched for a button or latch. There was a smaller hole in the wall to the right of the first, and reaching inside I found a rope. I pulled on the rope and heard something move on the other side of the wall to my left. I patted the wall there, whereupon I found yet another hole. Probing the two holes I could feel the rope inside each, but pulling on the rope did not open the panels, which refused to budge.

Instead, something sprung, and two sets of unknown panels clamped shut on my unsuspecting wrists. Organ music started playing in the room. Something you would hear in an old horror movie like The Pit and the Pendulum. Could things get any worse?

There was a woosh of cold air behind me as a new person entered the room. I spoke with rising fear, but concluded that the padding in the holes must be blocking the sound of my voice.

This person reached into the box feeling my limp cock then did not climb inside the little prison as the first had. I had no idea if it were a woman or a man until he or she climbed on top of my box straddling my thighs. Now, by the feel of her silk stockings, I deduced it was a woman. She massaged my buns aggressively which nevertheless still felt good, allaying my fears slightly.

Meanwhile, on my side of the wall where my head was, it was as black as the darkroom had been and I could see nothing. There was shuffling in the room so I explained, "It's my first time here and I hate to admit it but I don't quite know how things work... the panels. So here I am..."

A disembodied voice read a script from the far corner. "Here lies the one accused of witchcraft be he guilty or innocent?"

Another voice read from the other corner. A woman this time, "Be it known that a witch hath not the power to give nor receive pleasure. In pleasure he proves his innocence. Let the trial begin."

Maybe ten voices chanted in unison, "Let the trial begin."

A struggled to free myself, "Let me out!"

Next to me a man's gruff voice that asked, "Are you all finished? Going home so soon?"

I was just about to answer 'yes' when the person kneading my buns turned out not to be a woman at all and plunged a well lubed cock up my well prepared virgin asshole. In shock, my voice floundered, rising and falling with the various sensations of being anally fucked. First there was a stretch, then deeper in me, my guts were rearranged and my objection came out: "Nooo OOO ooo."

The gruff one said, "That's great! Not everyone is willing to place their head in the pillory, and I was worried you had already been used up." He stepped forward and in a flash his cock was at my mouth.

In the other room I wriggled as much as I could but the blasted box held my cock and balls tight limiting my movements.

Meanwhile, the gruff guy grabbed my flailing head tightly, working his cockhead between my shocked lips before I could react. I didn't see it coming and I couldn't see the man or his penis, but I sure could feel it violate me.

His hands were as rough as his voice was gruff so I pictured a big biker type guy as I attempted to spit out the offending organ. Though I suppose bikers didn't belong with the whole Salem theme.

Sensing my revulsion he yanked it free, "You're not gonna pussy-out with the safe word are you? Or are you an idiot?"

"I, um, I'm no idiot. I just, I don't belong here."

He chuckled, "Fun game. Everyone's innocent. Right?" Then stuck his cock back in my mouth pushing all the way to the back this time. I considered, then and there, that I really was an idiot as I gagged on a man's penis. I spluttered and my eyes watered as he pulled out yet again.

"Don't do this to me. I don't deserve it." I yelled loudly this, time hoping to attract an audience.

"You're good at this. It's like you're a real accused witch on trial, and you're really declaring your innocence." I heard murmuring behind him so I knew others had heard me yell.

I repeated myself, "I don't belong here. Let me go!" But instead of coming to my rescue they applauded like they were at some erotic Shakespearian play. The biker jammed his much harder erection back into my mouth and started a slow easy fucking.

Now then, I hadn't forgotten about my ass. This whole time my unseen assailant was gently rocking in and out of my restrained back end, running his hands up and down my body. What was new was that more people had entered the room so I felt multiple sets of hands caressing, but also pawing at my body.

They seemed to leave no inch of skin unmolested except for my ignored dick and testicles hanging impotently below the table. Well, until another cool breeze let me know that the cabinet was opened and I felt it shift as one or more persons climbed inside.

At least four hands stroked and tugged and yanked on both my exposed and isolated parts. It felt great on my cock which swelled again. But the stretching of my tender balls bordered on too rough. At one point that person, be it a guy or a girl, grasped just the skin of my sack with two fingers and pulled it far down, as if trying to see how far it would go. To me it felt like six inches lower than normal.

She (I'm pretending it was a she because her fingers were so slender and she had long nails) repeated the stretching of my ball skin. Except she used just her teeth this time. It hurt kinda good, though I fretted that she might break skin with such a daring nip.

The other one in the box, drove her mouth up, impaling her throat on my cock. Again, I'm pretending it was a girl because her throat felt so small. It could have been a thin guy, but it also turns me on more to imagine a girl eating my dick up like that. Besides, about half the people in the club were women so it was equally likely.

The treatment I was getting from the two babes in the box was making the ass fucking worth it. I mean, it wasn't painful like people say, and the slick pull out actually felt OK. Even good at times.

On the other hand, up front, the notion that a cock was in my mouth was disgusting. I couldn't even see it. Was it ugly? And just how long was it?

What about the guy himself? I didn't know if he was black or white, fat or slim, but his cock was fat and that made me wonder if fat cocks belonged to fat guys.

Then, oddly, I also started to wonder if the cock in my mouth was bigger than the one in my ass. How do you compare such a thing? What else should I have done? It's not like I could participate.

Concentrating on the sensations both fore and aft I decided they were both average sized cocks. I was grateful for that.

And the girls in the box? Assuming they were here with their husbands they had to be pretty enough to attract a mate. I wished I could feel their breasts but I couldn't even imagine a way that could be managed. In my mind they were subservient bitches who wouldn't be allowed out of the box until they had taken good care of my cock.

And did they ever! The first impaled her own throat on my aching cock over and over while the second found new and interesting ways to massage a man's nuts by the moment. She stretched and tugged them in ways no one has ever done before. At first she circled my balls with her thumb and forefinger, pulling hard enough to make me squirm. Then she separated my two nuts pulling on them independently of the other. Next she pulled my sack tight in opposite directions, I suppose forming a big skin triangle. After that she started twisting them, first around each other, then twisting each one independently. Lastly, my invisible torturess began a whole series of unique squeezes. In all my life I'd never dreamed balls could even do the things she made them do. Most of it was fearsome, none of it hurt so much I actually feared losing my balls. But all of it was as thrilling as a Halloween haunted house. The kind that's supposed to be safe...

The guy sitting on my thighs had accelerated to a lightning speed, really pounding my ass. It never did rip me up, but I never would get to use my experience as ammunition to convince my wife that she had nothing to complain about either. At most it burned a little. Then he was done. Did I sense cum rushing through my insides? And was that a wet condom on my leg?

Just when I thought the man in silk was finished, he spread my buns and sucked his own cum out of my ass. Anyhow, it felt soothing and as long as it was his mouth on an ass and not mine on his I didn't give a darn.

The "biker" suddenly grabbed me in a firmer vice like grip and jackrabbitted me. His cockhead hit my epiglottis repeatedly causing me to make obscene cocksucking noises like I've only ever heard in violent porn movies which is exactly what made me realize just how violently he was treating me. Next he wrapped his hands around my throat and palpated my neck as he thrust all the way in, holding still. Buried in my throat, he pulsed gobs of cum and I felt every throb as did he.

Below the two girls ramped up their aggressive handling of my equipment.

A new guy climbed aboard my thighs.

And without ever dropping my head where they held it aloft, the biker's cock was replaced by a new one.

The one in back was thicker. Much thicker, and this was so easy to discern by the way it stretched my already loosened hole.

Up front my new tormentor was thicker too. I was now impaled on both ends by two very thick cocks. Did they somehow coordinate this? Was there a lineup, arranged by size? He jammed only a couple inches, really just the head, into my abused mouth, but the crowd grew silent. What did they know and how did they know it in the pitch black room?

With his fingers under my chin he wiggled about neither pushing forward nor pulling back, but prying my lips wider and wider with his cock. In the back someone yelled out, "Do it already."

When he 'did it' his cock was unbelievably fat. My lips felt like they would tear, even though later upon inspection I saw that they had not. Even my jaw hurt from the intrusion and from his fingers digging into my jawbone. He bent low whispering, "You gotta help out or it's not going in without scraping."

So why did I help out? Opening my jaw as wide as I could he worked another inch of the seemingly baseball bat thick appendage into my mouth, stuffing it with his thumbs as it went.

Finally satisfied, he stopped trying to put more in. But addressing the gathering he said, "This is where only lots of tongue action will get me off." They murmured appreciatively, as if fully understanding.

What else could I do? I tongued those few wide inches, circling the thick head. The things I could feel with my tongue... other senses really must get sharper. I clearly felt his cockhead's ridge. And the frenulum was silky soft. I could even feel the dimensions of his piss-slit which split, allowing the tip of my tongue to explore ever so slightly. And when a dollop of precum leaked out, not only could I taste its sweetness, but I felt the extra lube it offered.

By now the girls were adding metal rings onto my balls one by one, and with each additional ring my orbs stretched a greater distance from my body. It felt exotic and pleasantly painful the way the rings tugged against my straining erection.

My ass also felt like it must tear. Likewise, upon later inspection I determined that it had not. The thick cock was being angled down, pushed by fingers also. I angled my ass to help it, driving my own dick further through the glory hole were that possible.

With a sigh he got it in me. He didn't pry like the guy in front. Rather he rocked imperceptibly, gaining access in much the same way the minute hand on a clock travels. It was some time later when he laid his weight on my back in victorious celebration of being balls deep.