Deep Down in the Depths of Servitude

DR. D and I began communicating outside of our BDSM Dom/sub association after our first encounter and it has grown into a friendship. It might be better described as being ‘odd buddies’. Our chats cover many different subjects, but as expected many do relate to BDSM and my new interest in the subject and lifestyle. It is purely a platonic acquaintance. DR. D is in a long-term loving relationship with his mate, who is also his personal submissive for most weekends and yet an equal partner on weekdays. They are the de facto leaders of a small BDSM social group of like-minded individuals called the ‘Common Bonds Social Club’.   

The two of them own an amazing well-equipped dungeon in their magnificent home. It has been the location of most of my previous BDSM playdates and where their social club meets. He is a BDSM expert practitioner, and I am curious, so we have great talks. He now knows most of my fantasies, desires and secrets.

He is also a board-certified medical doctor. Assuming he would know the real story, one of talks we had was on date rape drugs. I had confided that I found online bondage/rape flicks intriguing when they start with the victim becoming unconscious from a spiked drink before awaking naked and bound. However, these mostly being fictional stories, I was curious if it could really happen. Based on the Bill Cosby arrest and trial I thought that it could, but didn’t know to what extent. DR. D confirmed based on the drugs used it was indeed possible. Noting my interest, he asked if I had ever fantasied about it. Without thinking, I confirmed an occasional daydream. So that was the faux pas that would ultimately kick off this misadventure.

DR. D had arranged for me to be picked up at the Las Vegas airport. My last BDSM servitude started here too, however in that visit as soon as I enter their vehicle I was stripped, strapped to a bench and fucked while we cruised incognito thru downtown Vegas. This time was different. When I was picked up, I sat up front, wasn’t bound, wasn’t blindfolded. One of DR. D’s fellow Doms who I was acquainted with was the driver and the only one in the car. He’s a nice fellow, that is when he is not whipping or shafting my butt. I was greeted in a friendly manor and told we had been invited to attend a small get-together at the home of one of the other Doms who is part of their group. We would go there before heading over to DR. D’s house if that was ok with me. I had no objection.

We arrived. It’s a nice home. We headed out back to their patio area where there was a group of guys socializing. I recognize them from my previous visits. I’m a little uncomfortable as I have not been placed in a subservient role, and I have only interacted with these people previously while being bound and naked. Here I’m not familiar with being treated as an equal and that is what is happening. In my normal social circles back home, this would be a completely fine setting, but here it’s unnerving. DR. D is part of the crowd and acknowledges me with a nod. One Dom, who I guess is the host, I don’t know whose house this is, comes up to me with a glass of wine and a friendly hello, welcoming me back to Vegas.

Now I am being served. Not expecting this treatment, I stood there awkwardly, as others engaged me in idle conversation. I sip my wine to settle my nerves. It’s good. I’m a little concerned because I’m operating on an empty stomach which can make the effects of alcohol stronger. I’m not a big drinker. But this is turning out to be a nice gathering and I am now speaking with three guys who previously were my tormentors about the NFL.

I finished my glass, and it’s refilled by the host. I’m having a good time and starting to relax. This is nice. I think I’ve been there about a half hour when I start to feel the effects of the wine. I should have eaten. My legs feel a little weak and I say to the others I’m chatting with that I think I should sit down. As I sit, DR. D whispers in my ear “Sweet dreams, Cunt.”