On Display to Thousands

The group got me back after about an hour walk around the fair. My feet are sore; the slippers aren’t designed for street wear. I think the worse is over, my public exposure completed. I am wrong. The show is just getting started.

There is a general discussion going on between those that went with me and the boys left behind to set up for my next adventure.  With some minor tweaks I’m told they are ready for me. And there it is, a ‘One Bar Prison’. I have suffered on one with these guys more than once before and each time I was exposed to the public, but never in a venue like this. If this is for me, and it is, this location will expose me to more people than I thought possible.

Not that this journal is meant to be a tutorial, but if you are unfamiliar with this kind of bondage restraint, let me explain. A One Bar Prison (OBP) is a  specific BDSM related sex toy for restraining submissive partners. It is made in such a way that anyone using it is unable to get off of it by themselves, instead needing assistance from their Dom. This is accomplished by penetrating the anus or vagina (girls are subjected to these more than boys) from directly below with a single rod that is fixed onto a base on which the user will stand on. The rod is tall enough so that the person using it can't get enough traction against the ground or upper stretch to step off it and walk away on their own.

The pole is a tube with an interior cylinder that slides upward allowing adjustable penetration. It then has a locking method to hold the cylinder up in place after elevation. The top of the cylinder that enters the ass or pussy is sometimes a rubber dildo but more often is a stainless-steel torpedo shaped weapon or an increasing sized stack of stainless-steel balls.

The OBP is sometimes used simply by itself to frustrate the impaled who think they have enough freedom to escape but cannot. However, each time I’ve been subjected to being penetrated by the staff, my legs have also been secure to the flat base. My hands were then secured behind my back or to my sides. Escape was impossible.

Of note, here the OBP is sitting on a raised small rectangular platform about seven feet in front of the booth, placing it about a foot and a half above street level. The stand has enough room to walk around someone on the pole. The staff is about three inches in diameter and is topped with an oversized metal torpedo tip. It must be at least an inch and a half in diameter and a good seven inches tall. Menacing, but its size isn’t my fear. I see wires descending from it and plugged into an electro control box sitting on the platform. I’m going to be fried as I sit serving my time.

The pole is in its lowered position at the moment, waiting for me to straddle it. As I stare at it, they make my final preparations. I watch as the torpedo is heavily covered with Electro Lube. The chain is removed from my two ankle cuffs. My legs are spread and they put an ample coating of Electro Lube up my canal and around my anus.

They deflate and remove my gag, only to replace it with a pink ball gag. During the change, I am given a bottle of water via a straw, I also take the moment to say I need to pee to which I am told to hold it, I can pee after I’m on the pole. I’m again not happy.

It's time and I am moved to the stand, lifted up, positioned and penetrated. It goes in deep, more than enough to accomplish its job. The Allen-bolts on the shaft are tightened, my ankle cuffs locked to rings welded to the OBP base and I am there till they decide to let me go. The plug was as it looked, large. Taking it has painful despite how much I’ve been stretch by cocks all weekend. Steel is unyielding.