tagBDSMThe Public Sex Slave Ch. 01-02

The Public Sex Slave Ch. 01-02


Chapter 01: Waiting for the Mistress

There I was, standing stark naked, alone in the small dungeon room, waiting. After what felt like several minutes I found myself shivering, not because I was cold but because I was nervous; nervous for the unexpected.

I had come to the dungeon to fulfil my inner submissive desire to serve a Mistress as a pleasure/sex slave and be publicly humiliated in the process. I had been to the dungeon three times before where I had been introduced to BDSM play and light public display/humiliation; indeed I was new to the scene. But this time, as I told my Mistress, I wanted to take my submissiveness to the extreme level and take the humiliation outside the grounds of the dungeon.

Naturally, my Mistress was reluctant to allow my request as I was so new to the BDSM scene and because such public behaviour is, of course, illegal. But she gave in to my pleading and we agreed that I would be held responsible should we get caught by the police, which was highly likely. Nevertheless, the exact plan of activity was never divulged to me at all, which is why, as I stood waiting for my Mistress to arrive, I couldn't help feeling a little nervous.

As I stood there, naked and shivering, I suddenly heard footsteps approaching. It was the sound of authoritative high-heels, marching briskly up the hallway outside the room. As the footsteps got closer, my shivering increased in both speed and intensity. However, almost as quickly as they came, the footsteps faded away as the Mistress (not my own) walked past my dungeon room to attend to another victim, most likely.

So I continued to wait, and I began to survey the room. I had been in this particular room before, but I still observed the furnishings with a nervous curiosity. It was the size of a large square bedroom, the brick walls completely covered in dark red paint. The back wall presented with a full-sized bondage wheel which stood beside an evil looking throne in the back corner. On the wall to the other side of the wheel was a mounted rack with a complete array of BDSM implements with every tool on display. Beside that there was a whipping horse, a large set of stocks and a shower with no curtain. There was also a large sensory deprivation box, a ceiling suspension that looked liked it was pulled out of a horror movie, and very large mirrors that covered two of four walls.

The mirrors are the worst part. Here, I am forced to watch myself standing alone in the dungeon, completely vulnerable. The humiliation begins before the Mistress even arrives! I couldn't help but critically examine myself whilst I waited. I am a man in my mid-twenties with a height of 5ft 8in, but I have a small build so whilst I am quite muscular, I am also quite skinny which results in me having a small, puny look as opposed to a large, strong look. I have an attractive but very young looking face (I look no older than a teen) to match my stature as well as barely any visible hair on my chest. I have thick brown hair (on my head) which was at the length just short of becoming curly and a large, unkempt bush of pubic hair around my penis which, despite approaching nearly 7 inches fully erect, was currently at its 3 inch resting position.

I thought about quickly rubbing myself to make it slightly bigger, so as to impress my Mistress, but I decided I didn't want to get caught. At that moment I heard footsteps again, high-heel shoes with a similar but slightly different tone, quickly approaching my room but this time they paused right outside the door. In that instant my heart suddenly leapt out of my chest and my brain, in a panic, quickly caused me to question why I was there and feel a strong urge of regret. But it was too late. The doorknob turned and the door swiftly opened.


Chapter 02: Dungeon Humiliation

After waiting in the dungeon room, naked and alone, for what seemed like ages, my Mistress arrived and walked through the door casually. She was beautiful in every sense on the word, so much so that her presence ironically caused me to stop shivering. She was Caucasian and, despite being shorter than me, she had a slender figure

and was presently taller than me due to her high-heels. She had blonde hair, a pretty face which held a commanding expression, and a large but extremely perky-looking pair of breasts. Like a true dominatrix she wore a black corset over her torso and black, translucent stockings which stopped short halfway up her thighs, revealing

her black (non-translucent), lacy underwear.

"Down on the floor," she says in a somewhat indifferent but still commanding tone as she strides in the room. She leaves the door open, a sign to anyone in the dungeon who walks past that they can come in and watch what is happening to me.

"How?" I reply as I start to crouch down.

Her eyes widen with anger and she immediately reaches for the whip in her back pocket, but resists. "On your knees," she commands, more aggressively this time.

I kneel down in the centre of the room and my Mistress walks around me as if circling her prey.

"In the future," she continues, "Do not speak to me without addressing me as 'Mistress', unless you want to be severely punished!" As she explains, another Mistress pokes her head around the door with an expression of utter delight.

"Do you understand, slave?" My Mistress asks.

"Yes, Mistress,"

"Good boy," she says, still sounding unpleased, but pats my head whilst exchanging friendly glances with her colleague.

"What do you think of my slave, Mistress?" She asks more happily and walks off behind me towards the rack of implements.

"He looks like a pathetic little slave boy," Mistress 2 exclaims in the most demeaning possible way as she enters the room. "What could he possibly have to offer you?" She stands over me and looks down at my small naked body.

"He wants to be my pleasure slave for the whole day," Mistress answers as she comes up behind me.

"Lucky slave!" Mistress 2 cries, still patronising.

My Mistress suddenly wraps a spiked dog collar around my neck and jerks it roughly in an upward direction, choking me briefly. "Stand up,"

"Yes, Mistress," I stand up in front of my Mistress, facing the other Mistress. She grabs hold of both of my nipples and slowly pulls them towards her.

"Do you like pleasuring other women, slave boy?" Mistress 2 asks, still holding on. The pain is bad but I am still aroused by the two Mistresses. "Ah, you're a worthless little slave boy, aren't you?" She says before I could respond and flicks back her arms and releases me, letting a searing pain dart through my nipples and chest.

"Oh, but look at this cute butt!" Mistress cries and spanks my right butt cheek, clasping it firmly in her hand.

By this time two other Mistresses are standing in the doorway laughing.

"What shall we make of you today?" Mistress asks.

"I don't know, Mistress," I reply, unsure of whether I was meant to respond.

"You don't know?" Mistress 2 pipes in again.

Meanwhile my Mistress attaches a long metal chain to my collar.

"Do you have any special talents?" Mistress 2 asks.

"I can play piano, Mistress."

All four Mistress burst out laughing.

"Unfortunately, we don't have a piano in the dungeon," my Mistress says sarcastically, "How about you sing us a song instead."

I stand there frozen not knowing what to do. Was that a rhetorical question? Do they expect me to answer or to break into song? If so, which song?

"Sing a song, slave!" my Mistress yells, although still sounding like she was enjoying what was happening, and jerks my leash.

"Which song, Mistress?"

All four Mistresses simultaneously groan with disappointment and roll their eyes.

"How about 'I'm a little teapot'?" My Mistress suggests, but not really asking.

My heart skips a beat with embarrassment; this was true humiliation.

"I'm a little teapot short and stout," I start nervously and slow down even more in order to think of the words – it had been a while since I last sang this song.

"Here is my handle, here is my spout."

The Mistresses start snorting and giggling maliciously, and I notice that my Mistress walks off again towards the tool rack, but I don't turn to look.

"When I get all steamed up, hear me SHOUT!!" I let out a yelp of pain during the last word as I feel an unexpected, strong electric shock on butt my cheek, slightly stronger than a static shock.

I turn to see my Mistress cheekily holding the violet wand, and the cleverness of her timing briefly occurs to me before she yells, "Keep singing!"

"Tip me over, pour me out."

While the other Mistresses are almost on the floor with laughter, I'm left to stand there awkwardly waiting. I felt so humiliated, yet at the same time I felt such a strong sense that I had been put in my place – a level below the other Mistresses whereby my purpose for being there was purely to entertain them, and at whatever cost. As they laughed wildly, it actually felt good to know I had provided them with the pleasure of seeing me being treated like an object, and something pleasurable stirred deep within me.

"Alright slave, don't get too carried away there," Mistress says mockingly, and before I knew what was happening I had a blindfold across my eyes and a ball gag in my mouth.

The laughter suddenly died down and I suddenly felt nervous again, almost afraid, but still slightly aroused.

"Oh my god!" Mistress two suddenly cries, "What do we have here?"

At that moment I feel a hand gently grasp my penis and I realised what was happening. I was so aroused that I had pre-cum dripping from my penis. Mistress 2, I assume, then wipes the pre-cum from my penis with her hand and then gently rubs it all across my face. It tasted like the cum I had tasted from girls in the past.

"Look who seems to be enjoying himself just a little too much," Mistress 2 says as she slowly lets go of my face.

The rest of the room is silent, although I imagine

the other Mistresses were all standing and watching, smiling amusedly. I suddenly feel a quick slap across my face.

"Naughty boy!" she exclaims. I was so shocked and slightly offended at the slap, but I enjoyed it immensely.

"Skinny little slave boy isn't allowed to cum without us saying he can, isn't that right Mistress?" Mistress 2 explains.

"That's right, Mistress."

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Mistress demands, giving me a light shove in the back.

My heart skipped a beat again. I couldn't say anything - I had ball gag in my mouth!"

"Well?" Mistress demands in my moment of hesitation.

"Sorry, Mistress," I say, but obviously only a soft, four syllable muffle comes out. I hear the other Mistresses snicker in the background.

"What did you say?" Mistress demands again.

"Sorry, Mistress," I give a louder muffle.

"I can't hear you!" Mistress cries.

"Sorry, Mistress!" I let out a loud groan, sounding like - well, a prisoner with a ball gag in his mouth. The Mistresses are now laughing again.

"Louder, slave!" Mistress screams, spanking my arse hard with the whip at the same time. It burned.

I jump and take a responsive step forward, screaming at the top of my lungs as best I could the four syllables to make up "SORRY, MISTRESS!!"

The other Mistresses continue to laugh loudly and just as I begin to catch my breath, the burning from the whip suddenly becoming more apparent, my Mistress gives me two sudden shocks with the violet wand on my hip and back. I jump forward each time, letting out two loud groans of pain.

"That should teach you a lesson," Mistress 2 says, and as the laughter dies down my Mistress (I assume) grabs my hands and handcuffs them behind my back.

There I was, standing naked, blindfolded, gagged, and handcuffed, being used for the pleasure of four (perhaps more) vicious Mistresses. It felt good. The chain on my collar which had been dangling to the floor was suddenly picked up and being pulled.

"Come on, slave," said Mistress encouragingly now.

I walked cautiously towards her voice, knowing that I was now stepping out of the dungeon room. What was in store for me now, I only had some idea. But I felt aroused at both the thought of it and the recent happenings and wondered whether I also felt a sense of belonging.


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