Now and then, something arises that makes life interesting again. Tonight promises to be one of those moments. After six years as a professional girl, you might have thought I had seen it all. But not so. My clients, a husband and wife, are taking me to a BDSM club where I will be subjected to, well, anything they want, within reason. Or rather, anything the clubs' Dom wants. He will be the one subjecting me to his whims and desires.
I am not going in blind; Alex and I have both checked out the club and spoken to the manager/Dom, Michael. He assures me that he does not do anything too extreme on a first visit; no marks will be left on my body, although I may have some stiffness and light bruising, and a safe-word will be provided so that I can stop at any time.
Once confirmed and booked, the clients had requested my measurements, as they would supply the required clothing.
I knock on their door promptly at seven p.m. and am welcomed into their room with brief introductions. They instruct me to call them 'Master' or 'Mistress' and to do as instructed without argument.
"Yes, Master, Mistress," I confirm.
"Undress quickly," Mistress commands.
I stand naked before them, and they walk around me, admiring my body.
"Oh yes, very nice; you will do well, I think!" Master exclaims excitedly.
Mistress hands me a lightweight coat.
"You will not need any clothes where we are going; this is for traveling only; we do not want to get arrested for indecent exposure," she explains with a smirk.
Slipping it on, I find it is nicely tailored but small. It only just overlaps at the front and is short, barely coming to mid-thigh on me. I feel for the fastenings; it is soon apparent that there are none.
"Here's the belt; just cinch it at the waist," Master grins as he hands me the belt. There are no belt loops, either!
Cinching the belt tight makes the bottom of the coat flare outward, while loosening it allows it to fall open. Either I show a lot of my inner thigh, or it falls open, revealing everything. Leg it is, then. Thankfully, the car park or the taxi rank is only a few yards from the hotel.
Leaving the hotel, we walk out into the cold October air. The coat offers no protection from the biting draught, and we're going the wrong way to the taxi rank. Damn, we're heading for the underground station! This is unexpected; the tube will still be busy at this time of day, and the trains will be crowded, I think to myself.
Carefully, I squeeze through the ticket barriers, gathering glances and stares with the amount of leg on show, possibly more than leg! When I'm standing on the escalator, anyone looking up from below will have a nice view, and crossing the crowded platform is a nightmare! Tightly, I grip my coat as people jostle and push around me. The train will be even worse.
The mistress tells me to stand on the opposite side of the carriage from them and use a strap hanger for support. I board the train and squeeze through the tightly packed throng of people, dragging my coat against them and trying vainly to keep it around me. Reaching a space, I turn to face Master and Mistress. They nod and point to the hanger above me. As I reach for it, the hem of my coat pulls to one side, exposing my inner thigh and possibly my pubis.
I lurch forward as the train pulls away, and a young man catches me. His hand slips under my coat, pushing it fully open, exposing my left boob to him, and the belt falls to the floor! He grins and does not attempt to remove his hand as I try to make myself decent again. Mistress and Master grin wolfishly at me.
Slowly, the young man slides his hand down my side and across to my mound. Another pair of hands squeezes my bum from behind and slowly raises my coat until they are kneading bare flesh.
Soon, I am at the center of a scrum of bodies, squashing, squeezing, and probing my body as their hands wander over and under my coat. Not just men, a pair of breasts is pressing into my back. Trying to fend them off is futile. Being so short, I seem invisible to the others in the carriage, or they ignore what is happening.
Someone has found his way to my crotch and is beginning to explore my pussy. Then the train jerks around a sharp bend, and we sway and move, and my coat gets pulled wide open. The hand I am trying to protect my modesty with is lifted over my head and clamped to another overhead strap, exposing my body for all to play with. Nothing is left unmolested: tits, nipples, bum, pussy; everything is tweaked, nipped, or probed. People mutter and curse as they miss their stops, not that they seem to care that much!
At last, Mistress and Master stand up and reach out to pull me to them, receiving complaints from the scrum around me. I quickly crouch down to pick up the belt, which I have been standing on since it fell away earlier, and cinch the coat again as we leave the train. A glance at the station clock reveals the journey has taken forty-five minutes; it seemed much longer.
"Wasn't that fun?" Master enthuses.
"Yes, Master," I dutifully reply. In truth, it was more like humiliation. However, my pussy is wet and throbbing slightly. My body is contradicting my mind.
As we walk out of the station and to our destination, the stares continue, focusing on my attire or lack thereof.
We stop outside a burger bar, and they look at the menu.
"This will do," Master says, and we enter.
Master goes to order, and Mistress takes me to the window seating bar.
"Sit on the stool and look out the window," she orders.
I step onto the high stool, exposing my lower half to anyone walking past the window. I sit quickly and tuck the coat together as far as possible, but it still gapes open up to the belt. Though I keep my legs tight together, it is still apparent to anyone looking in the window that I am naked from my midriff to my shoes.
Master and Mistress sit on either side of me, chatting to each other, eating their burgers, and pulling my legs apart whenever someone passes by outside. I have never felt so vulnerable.
We leave the burger bar and walk to the club a few hundred yards farther along the road. It's an impressive Georgian building, 'Da Vinci Club,' discreetly sign written on the large black doors. Members-only, of course.
We enter through the large doors and walk into an equally large hallway; as the master talks to the receptionist, I gawk at the erotic artwork decorating the walls. Roman, Greek, Egyptian, Victorian, and modern-day scenes are depicted in all their gory detail. An equally erotic clock shows it is eight-thirty.
"Good evening, Michael. As promised, here's one fresh new thing to break in. Sharon, you will now be Michael's property for the evening; behave for him as for us," the Master commands and walks away.
"Remove your shoes and coat and give them to the girl behind the desk," Michael orders.
I do and am now standing naked before him.
Walking around me, he leans into my ear and whispers, "Safe-word is 'Amazon' or circle your fingers like this." He puts his hand in front of me.
"This evening will be painful but endurable. No marks will be left on your body, but you may experience some tenderness. Make as much noise as you like; it keeps the audience happy," he grins.
Michael then attaches a leather belt around my waist with a strap fitting between my breast and up to a collar, which he places around my neck. Another strap is attached to the belt, which he pulls between my legs and up my back; this is also connected to the collar.
The girl from the desk kneels in front of me, stretches my labia apart, and adjusts the strap to run neatly between them. Michael pulls it tight, neatly spreading my pussy and forcing my lips to engulf the invading belt. A lead is also added to the collar. Finally, a leather hood is pulled over my head, covering my eyes and nose. It does have slits, so I can still see through it.
The outfit is uncomfortably tight, and when Michael tugs on the lead, pulling me behind him, I gasp in surprise and discomfort. The strap between my legs is rubbing painfully against my clitoris. Walking is a nightmare of strangely exquisite pain.
He leads me into a large room, a lounging area with fifty or so people in it. Some are dressed in skimpy, sexy clothing, and some are not dressed at all, mainly the women. The men are generally attired in chinos and T-shirts. Although some do have their cocks out, I notice as Michael parades me around the room.
"Can I squeeze her tits?" someone asks.
"Of course," Michael replies.
Gently, at first, this stranger strokes my globes, then firmly squeezes them before doing the same to my nipples.
"Hmm, they feel firm enough; they should hold a good weight," the breast man comments.
A woman asks to do the same; she is much rougher and confirms the opinion on my nipples.
"Michael, can she suck my cock?" someone shouts across the room.
Michael laughs and drags me across the room.
"Suck his cock," he commands.
The man is sitting on a chair, his cock standing at attention through his fly. I kneel on the floor, bend forward, and take his cock into my mouth. Bobbing up and down on his cock is tormenting my clitoris to distraction, and I have to concentrate to prevent myself from cumming. My pussy juices are flowing freely, and we have not yet got to the main event; well, I do not think we have!
SLAP, SLAP across my bum cheeks makes me rise in shock. I never heard anyone ask to do that!
Michael pulls me to my feet, much to cock man's chagrin.
My bum cheeks tingle as Michael walks me out of the room and up some stairs. The stairs are a real torment for my pussy and clitoris! Then, we walk along a short corridor to some large red doors.
"This is your last chance to change your mind. Once in here, only the safe word will release you. You are expected to at least endure for a while," Michael explains.
I nod my head.
He then zips the hood's eye slits closed. Being blind is disorienting!
"My assistant will take your arm and help guide you," he whispers.
A gentle grip is taken on my right arm. There's a gentle buzz of conversation as I am led along. Then, all goes quiet as we climb three steps. We walk a few more steps before being turned around. The strap between my legs is released and removed, much to my relief, and they lay me on a padded surface. Michael and his assistant slide me into the position they want, then pull my arms above my head and secure them in place. My legs are similarly restrained.
A mechanical cranking noise ensues, and my legs get spread apart, slowly exposing my nervous sex. It's comfortable at what seems to be ninety degrees, less so as they get spread farther. The spreading stops before they tear me in half. Nothing happens for a few minutes, and the pain in my hips subsides into numbness. My legs must be stretched out straight to either side of my body, exposing my pussy's inner depths as it gapes open.
Pain flares in my nipples as vicious clamps are applied to them, and I whimper. They get pulled directly up, which stretches them wickedly, making me gasp and moan even more. My nipples are on fire, and then the underside of each breast is whipped, making me scream in shock and pain. Repeatedly, they are struck. Each stroke stretches and pulls my nipples as my body reacts to the strikes, flaring the pain in them. Surprisingly, the sting and pain subside once the whipping stops, which, eventually, it does.
Movement at the other end of the table heralds the same treatment administered to my butterfly lips. Clamps, not one, but three, are attached to each lip. Gripped tightly, my lips are pulled aside, which must afford an even deeper view into my vagina.
Smack: a whip slashes right along my open gash, from my nub to my bum crack. Screaming in pain only enhances the attack on my exposed sex. Michael is very accurate as he targets individual areas, hitting my tender nub, my inner lips, and my gaping maw. Screaming and jerking at each blow only increases the pain as the clamps rip at my pussy lips and nipples.
Then the assistant joins in and starts slapping at my breasts with what must be a paddle of some sort. It's broader and heavier than the whip, but its effect is the same, even as it feels different.
Then nothing. My tormentor's assault is over, and once again, the pain subsides to a numb ache.
Having the clamps removed from my nipples and labia reveals a whole new world of pain as circulation returns to them. My legs are slowly brought back together, my tethers released, and Michael and his assistant lift me off the device.
That was not so bad, I'm thinking. It's all over now.
It's not. My legs are too shaky to stand by myself, and they carry me away, stopping after a few steps.
My arms get pulled above my head and attached to something above me. They let go of me, and I sag down; my legs still can't support me. It is of no matter as I get hoisted off the ground, my feet swinging clear of the floor. The pull in my shoulders is bearable but unpleasant.
My body spins around as my bum is hit with what feels like a paddle, as used on my tits earlier. The pain takes a second to register, and then I am spinning the other way as the other cheek is hit. It is like a game of tennis, hit and return, but without the missed shots. My bum is too good a target and soon starts burning with fire.
The expected return stroke does not happen; my left breast explodes in pain, then my right, and now my bum. All areas are being struck with a great degree of accuracy. My nipples alone are hit, side to side, up and down. They are so sensitive I nearly scream the safe word, and then it stops.
They lower me down but do not release me. I'm still suspended, and my tits are being bound by what feels like a rough rope. Tighter and tighter, they are bound. Then the rope is run between my legs, my lips being parted to ensure complete contact with my clitoris and vagina. I scream as this is pulled up tight and cuts through my slit. My tits feel as though they will explode; they are so tightly bound.
I'm lifted once again, and my nipples are slapped with the paddle. They feel tight enough to burst, being bound as they are, and are so sensitive I have to scream. After several strikes, screams turn to moans of subservience. The paddles stop, only to be replaced with more clamps.
Weights are attached to the clamps, heavier and heavier, pulling my nipples almost straight down.
Slap, Slap, my bum is struck with the paddles, spinning me around, making the weights pulling on my nipples swing back and forwards, stretching and tearing at my tender flesh. They stop as suddenly as they started.
The chaffing rope between my legs is removed while I'm still hanging. Straps are attached to my ankles, and my legs are pulled apart, exposing my pussy.
Something pushes at my pussy entrance and eases itself inside me as they lower me down. Up and down, up and down, they raise and lower me over this phallic device, fucking me slowly.
Then, down so deep, I feel this phallic tool touch my cervix. No sooner is it deep inside me than it starts expanding, growing in me, pushing against my inner walls, squeezing against my bladder. Even my stomach feels like it is expanding to the size of a football.
No, no, it can't come out. I scream to myself as they pull me upward again. The pressure is released before I can vocalize my scream or utter the safe word. I fly upward, and the weights on my nipples jerk so hard that the clamps rip free, releasing a new level of pain.
The clamps are gone, and now the rope binding my breasts is removed, introducing a tingling pain as blood flows back into them.
Michael and his assistant walk me a few yards, stretching me over what feels like a barrel. My head hangs over the top; my legs are wrapped around the lower part, with my pussy pointing forward. Something presses on my pussy, and then slides into me, stops, and then starts moving in and out in a slow metronomic motion. Images of a fucking machine flash through my head. The barrel is moved slightly, changing the angle of entry to my pussy, and I quiver involuntarily as my G-spot is found. The adjustment stops.
Every stroke runs over my most erogenous area, tormenting and teasing me. The tempo changes; it starts slow, then becomes fast, and now it's slow again. Deep penetration, then shallow teasing strokes, endlessly fucking me as no man can. I orgasm freely, having earned this pleasure.
Then it gets better. Or worse? I gasp as an electric jolt runs through my body as a vibrator is applied to my throbbing, sensitive, and sore clitoris. An orgasm violently roils through my body, and I thrash against the restraints, screaming and moaning. This is all too much; screaming and writhing, I wish for it to stop, and also for it not to stop.
It doesn't; they continue to assault my body for what seems like forever. Even as I scream and beg for the pleasure to stop, I then decide you can have too much of a good thing and utter the safe word, but it won't come to me! The torment continues; it is a beautiful pleasure, but overwhelming. Silence, peace, bliss, it's over.
Michael and his assistant carry me off the barrel and lay me on the floor, which is lovely until I feel myself being strapped down and spread-eagled open. No! What more can they do to me?
My mask is removed, and from teary, blurry eyes, I see a crowd of men above me, all wanking furiously. The first shots of cum strike me moments later, followed by a flood as they all unload over me. Hot sticky cum drips and runs over my body. They finally finish and walk away, only to be replaced by another cohort eagerly wanking over me.
They, too, disperse, and now it is the women's turn as they come forward and start scooping up and eating the hot liquid covering my body or simply rubbing it into my skin, molesting me as they do. A woman goes down on my exposed sex and licks all the juices from around my hole, then proceeds to torment my already tormented clitoris; she very nearly brings me to another climax. The second lady to lick my sex succeeds! Then they, too, drift away.
Michael comes back into view and wipes me with a warm, damp towel while I am still on the floor. How can something so simple be so good? After he releases me, he hands me the towel and a bottle of water to finish cleaning myself off. I look up at him as my cleaning is finished. He smiles, picks up the lead, and marches me back through the club.
Looking to one side, I see a screen with us on it, and I stop walking to stare.
"Oh, the whole club has watched you tonight," he grins.
He jerks the lead, and I follow him to the foyer, where Michael passes me back to Mistress and Master.
"That was excellent, Michael. Do you think she has the makings of a good sub?" Master queried.
"I would think so; she did well tonight. I pushed her as far as I have ever pushed anyone for the first time, and she never faltered," Michael confirms.
Well, that is not going to happen! I quickly think.
Glancing up at the clock, I see it's just gone past midnight! That's just over three hours since we came in! I can't believe it's been that long; it seemed to be over so quickly!
My coat and shoes are returned. However, the collar and lead have not been removed! And Mistress leads me out of the club by them.
"Don't worry, people around here are used to seeing this," she assures me.
She leads me to a waiting taxi. Of course, there are no tube trains after midnight.
Master enters the taxi first. Mistress hands the lead to him, and he pulls me in. Mistress follows, squeezing me between them both.
As the taxi pulls away, Mistress uncinches my coat. And between them, Master and Mistress open it wide, exposing me to the taxi driver, who can be seen grinning in his mirror.
Thirty minutes later, we arrive back at the hotel.
"Cabbie, would you like to fuck our sub?" Mistress asks him.
His grinning face says it all, and he gets out of his door and joins us in the taxi's rear.
Master moves to the rear-facing seats as Mistress orders me to turn around and kneel across the seat, exposing my bum and pussy. The cabbie quickly frees his manhood from the confines of his trousers, wipes it up and down my slit a few times to get it suitably hard, and then invades my pussy. He calmly pumps into me with deep, long strokes, enjoying running his cock along my smooth and wet vaginal walls. He and I both! There is no rushing to fulfil himself; he wants the whole experience. Master and Mistress silently look on.
Eventually, his pace quickens as he reaches fruition, filling me with his warm seed and letting his cock wilt inside me until it flops out naturally. After zipping himself up, he opens the door to exit the taxi.
He glances at Master, who says, "She was your tip. How much for the fare?"
He duly pays the cabbie. We then walk to the hotel and up to their room. My coat is cinched closed, and my pussy is leaking cum down my legs.
"Wait here," Mistress commands as she and Master enter the room. She returns after a few seconds with my clothes and hands them to me.
"You can keep the coat as a keepsake. We look forward to our next meeting," Mistress says as she closes the door.
Once back in my room, I relax in a well-earned bath and ponder tonight's events. Was it enjoyable? Was it humiliating? Was it painful? Is that what being a sub is all about? Would I do it again?
Probably.
