On Display to Thousands

The pole is retracted and ankle cuffs released from the base. My exhausted, sore and limp body is assisted off the stage.  The gag is removed, but my arms remain cuffed to my waist. I am sat down on a folding chair, given water, allowed to pee in the jar again and have my ankle cuffs rechained as they were for my last walk. Not done with me, a leather ball separator & shaft harness is snapped around my privates. A leash is attached to the end and drooped over my shoulder. They give me about fifteen minutes to recover my strength and eat a snack.

Nearing the end of my rest period, I am approached from the left, it’s a woman dressed as a dominatrix in black patent leather. She comes right up to me, puts her stiletto boot on my knee and asks, “Remember me?”

I remember her too well.  It’s the All-American-Girl I tortured yesterday on the Sybian and likely the one who suffered because of me in Vegas. She is dressed the same as when I last saw her except now her privates are barely covered with a leather G-string. Her breasts are still exposed. She also has added a matching riding crop to her ensemble. Still as hot as ever.

“Payback time Sissy. Do you remember how much fun you had torturing me yesterday, never helping me, no matter how much I begged you? How about in Vegas, do you recall just watching me forced to serve all the men there and me riding another one of those horrid machines, you always looking out for yourself and never me?  Well, it’s my turn to do the watching, let’s go for a walk.” she informs me as Sir Michael puts my Sissy permission sign back on, the confirmation that I’m screwed.

She grabs my leash and I am pulled up by my dick and walked back into traffic dressed in my pink tutu, my privates still exposed below it. The crowds are thinning, but there is still a much bigger crowd then my earlier stroll. We again have a team on the walk. Her Dom and Master D. have the forward point. She and I walk side by side, her in obvious control holding my leash, having fun pulling at me. DR. D, Sir Michael and one other Club master are behind us. I wish I had names for the others, but the rules we play by say no.

My morning trip around the fair was more to show me what it was all about. This late afternoon jaunt is more to have me abused and humiliated by and for the public, The masters will argue this is solely for me. If that was true, why do I hate this, and why does everybody seem to be having the time of their lives but me?  

Having a female mistress instead of a male master catches more eyes. We are getting more attention. This is an atypical couple. She’s young, petite, beautiful, dressed as a dominatrix. I’m reaching middle age, arguably well fit with a decent physique, much taller, yet parading as her sissy. Begs for the question of how this match up happened. If they knew the real story, they would be astonished. Actually, I only know half of the story, I don’t really know hers.

I am not gagged but I know better than to talk. She grants permission for anyone who asks to do pretty much anything but have sex with me. And my gropers are being more liberal in their touching, comments and requests. They have been partying all day, drinking too. They’ve been excited, entertained and aroused by the different venues, entertainers and interactions, so they are now not shy, if they ever were. And here I am, available to view, play with and taunt. The mistress motivated to oblige them with her memories of yesterday so fresh in her mind.

My ass was ravaged by the many hours on the pole. That doesn’t seem to be a concern of meddlers from wanting to digitally search out my prostrate. And they do. They seem to want to pinch and twist my nipples too. About fifteen minutes into the walk, my mistress ups the fun by adding adjustable nipple clamps that are chained together to each of my nipples. Something for the sightseers to pull on and on occasion add a turn to the tightness screws.

One lad (ok, he was probably 35) was very happy with a new purchase (tags still on it) of a large black bumpy dildo with handle. She granted him permission to try it out, telling me to bend over and spread my legs. Quite a sight with my tutu. He had it well in me and was starting to manually fuck me with it when Master D stopped everything saying it would be considered prohibited street sex.

The disappointed owner than asked if it was permitted to suck the toy in public. Master D pondered on it for a moment and then issued the verdict that he would think that would be OK. So, the ‘now not new’ dildo was in my mouth for a lick and multiple thrusts. When I asked later why other sex was not allowed (thankfully), but fingering was acceptable, the answer was simply that probing me was not that noticeable so the likelihood of being caught was low.

My Dominatrix was also happy to show everyone her skills with her riding crop. She is especially fond of my pinched nipples and of course my exposed cock and balls, made even more vulnerable when she pulls my leash tight with her non-whip yielding hand.

New on this walk too is those that want to hug the ballerina and try to dance with her. With my arms bound this is awkward and difficult. It just encourages them to hold me in a tighter embrace. When held like this, it makes warding off the boys trying to kiss me challenging. I’ll give credit to my masters, they step in quickly and stop inappropriate, unhealthy or contract prohibited behavior. My mistress is less aware of these hard limits, so I can’t blame her when it happens.

And so, it goes on till we cover most of the venue. My body is exhausted and that must be evident. Master D remarks, I think Sissy’s done with the show, he’s earned a rest, let’s rap up and take him home.

We made a final visit to his friend’s booth. They are starting to wrap up too. There is talk of what’s next. Suggestions are made by Master D’s friends to go to some of the popular after-parties at nearby venues. He declines saying there will be an after event at his own place. They are invited back to his home, and many indicate they may indeed stop by.

One of the first things they do to me as we wrap things up is thoroughly wipe me down with antiseptic wipes everywhere I was or could have been touched, other than obviously inside my butt hole. They had done this after my first walk and throughout the day, even replacing the suntan lotion they removed in the process.

DR. D also advises we will start my preventative med regiment as soon as we get back to the house, adding that he had been watching closely all day and my risk is extremely low. I’d be more likely to catch the flu or a cold than anything else.

My original boots, pants and jacket are put on me. The bastards keep my very fatigued and cramping arms locked to my waist, hidden by my coat. Master D had made a call while we were walking back to the booth, so our private bus transportation was waiting for us.