On Display to Thousands

After my ass was taken for the sixth time, I was taken down from the rack, moved over to the large bed, put on my back, secured by cuffs on my wrists and ankles to eye hooks on the sides and told to take a quick nap as I will be on my feet for the next few hours. I am asleep quickly despite having both a tender butt hole and dick head.  The nap does refresh.

I am awoken in a way everyman likes to be, getting his dick sucked. I am being serviced by the Club’s ‘other sub’ that came from Vegas with the boys. His primary task is to wake me up for dinner, secondary is to stiffen my cock. His tongue and lips felt amazing even with the rawness of my red welt covered shaft and head. Not sure the purpose of making me hard and excited before transport to my meal. I wasn’t given permission to come, and I didn’t, so that wasn’t it. But it sure could have happened, as I said he was good!

Now collared and leashed, hands cuffed behind my back, head in a half mask and still very naked, I’m taken from the dungeon, down two floors, to the kitchen. I’m served an odd meal, but in a much more humane way than typical for me when in servitude. I am allowed to sit at the table, hands re-cuffed in front, provided with silverware, even a napkin.

My meal was placed in front of me by Master D’s partner whose only word to me was ‘eat’. The food is a bowl of warm oatmeal with sliced bananas, an English muffin with orange marmalade and a glass of milk. I’ll learn later why this breakfast cuisine was served as early supper. I was left to myself. Not rushed, I consumed all that was provided, but even alone, still felt self-conscious about my nudity in this very large, chilly kitchen.

I’m done, but I stay where I am as I have received no instructions otherwise. When my masters return, they keep me in the kitchen where Master D and DR. D change out my bondage. The first thing they do is put me in an adult diaper. Something that sets my mind to wondering. Then my wrists are secured in leather cuffs that are attached to a leather belt around my waist, pulling them tight to my sides. I am also placed in leather ankle cuffs, but for the moment they are not secured to each other or anything else.

A new wide leather collar is also placed around my neck, this one with four rings space equally around it. They adjust it so one is in the front and back and one to each of my sides. They attach a leash and I am again on the move.

We exit the kitchen to the stairs with DR. D leading me. Walking with a diaper on is embarrassing if not strange. I assume we are heading back to the dungeon, but I assumed wrong. We only make it to the second floor. We enter a bedroom and walk over to an open closet. In front of it is a little step stool. I am told to step up and into the closet that has a raised floor, being informed it has been pre-adjusted for my height.

I don’t have to be a genius to realize where I am, this is the shaft I saw under the dungeon bathroom urinal and I know what’s next. And I am instantly horrified of my situation.

“No, please No, I don’t want to do this. Please, please! No! There must be other ways to get your kicks with me. Please don’t make me do this. Please don’t make me a toilet slave, PLEASE!” I plead. But since I didn’t use my safe words, I am ignored by my own contract rules.

“Get in there Sissy and do your time,” I am scolded by DR. D as I am manhandled up the stool and into the closet. “You know you’ll be punished for that outburst.”

As I stand upright in my new space, my face extends past the ceiling and into the bathroom above. I am looking directly into the eyes of Master D, who, with an unfamiliar partner, is kneeling in front of me.

The two immediately grasp my head and the doors over the opening are slid closed around my neck and latched. Four padlocks are then placed through the rings of my collar and individually locked to steel D-rings welded to the doors, front, back, side and side around my head, positioning my face forward and holding it firm.

The hood is pulled from my head. I can feel my ankles below being locked together. I am effectively secured and I then feel something pressed against my neck, just above the collar, held by Master D’s partner.  “That’s the cow prod you feel, I believe you are familiar with it. Now don’t give us any trouble, open your mouth wide or I’ll have him shock you till you do,” I am ordered by Master D. Knowing any resistance will result in pain, great pain, I open wide.

The mouthpiece is inserted as the wide strap is pulled over my head. It is in the shape of an athletic bite guard, formed to sit in front of, over, and behind the teeth. Through the center of the guard extending over the tongue in an oval profile is the open termination of the tube.

The strap is rubber. In front it is taper to fit just under my nose and extends down to the bottom of my chin. It crosses my cheeks so that it fully encloses my lips, sealing them around the tube.

It is tight. It’s not uncomfortable, it does not gag me. It feels almost like it should be there. I try to blow out through my mouth; it is well sealed. There is a sensation of tackiness in it like glue or something, making the seal even more effective. Purposefully liquid tight.

Breathing through my nose is unrestricted. Thank God. The pressure from the strap is noticeable. I hope that in time that this doesn’t become an issue, like cause a headache or other tension. My hood is put back on.

“There you go Sissy; no one will know you that comes to use you. I know you can do this. Regardless, it’s going to happen. I read how much piss you took on in Vegas. This will be a cake walk. In time you will have to pee, hence the diaper. You are to go; it would be unhealthy to hold in what you have processed. You will be punished if I find a dry diaper when your shift is over. Have fun. I hope this fulfills another of your fantasies. It sure does for me,” are Master D’s final comments.

And he and his buddy walk away. I stand there, trying to get comfortable. Flexing my face. Trying to find the best way to deal with the oval tube in my mouth, shifting my tongue, my cheeks, lips and jaw. It isn’t that bad. The tube and mouthpiece around it were designed for resting in one’s mouth. A rubbery taste, but not unpleasant.

I was expecting immediate use, but that didn’t happen. I wait a long time before anything takes place. The first thing is someone comes up to the urinal, and I hear a sort of clanging noise as something is dumped into the bowl. They leave. It takes a little bit, but it dawns on me, ice. In time, there would be an ongoing drip of water from the melting ice down the tube and into my mouth. Initially, it was even refreshing.

Someone did come in and used the toilet and then took a shower including a douche. None of which I could see, but in a tiled bathroom, sounds transmit well. Someone else came in an used the urinal next to me. I held my breath the whole time he went, praying he didn’t know I was there. He went a lot. I’ve been fortunate so far.