On Display to Thousands

My trip home was unremarkable. My normal life and persona of a driving business executive, loving husband, father and friend taking center stage. It wasn’t till the weekend, mainly because of busy schedules, but I was back to making romantic gentle love to my wife and loving it.

I had never heard of the Folsom Street Fair. I had been to San Francisco a few times for business. I knew the town had a large Gay population, but the Fair, no.

 As to my physical condition, my butthole remained sore longer that it did on any previous visits out West. Reasonable, I sat on the pole being shocked for way too long. Then I was fuck by too many people before and after, all taking a toll. I have no idea how many. I could check the recordings and count, but why? A rectum wasn’t designed for that much abuse, regardless of the exact number and I paid for it.

The first two days I treated it with Desitin Cream. That took care of the rawness, but then there was still swelling, basically hemorrhoids, so I switched to good old Preparation H which relieved the discomfort and helped them go away in another two or three days. All is well now. Though I’m not sure if my hole is as tight as it was before I started this journey.

My urethra also was irritated from the sound that was inserted in it with the cock cage. Again, because the toy was left in for too long of a duration than was meant to be. It did heal up in a day or two but peeing in the meantime was painful.

I did receive repeated hits as part of the fundraising, but because of tight oversite by my team, most were tame compared to my normal whippings from my own masters, so the ill effects from that were gone the next day except for my balls. They took an extra day to recuperate, mainly they were just tender when touched. No marks remained on my body by the time I got home.

As in past trips, DR. D gave me preventative ‘day after’ medicines for HIV and STDs just to add additional safety. The HIV medicine is a month-long regiment. I always get tested afterwards and I am clean.

My drinking urine is not without controversy; my information comes from both DR. D’s discussions and my own research. Certainly, pee is not a health drink (some say it is), but not poisonous either (some say it is). I am still not sure what the actual answer is, the jury is still out. Without question I hate doing it, it’s disgusting to taste and it nauseates me when I’m given large quantities and that is why DR. D finds ways of making me do it. I didn’t get any illness or viruses from consuming the urine, nor have I previously.

I know STDs, such as chlamydia, gonorrhea, syphilis, and HIV, are primarily spread through sexual contact, including vaginal, anal, and oral sex. I wanted to know if piss-play had the same issues. So, after my first forced experience in San Diego, I did some on-line research and found that urine itself is generally not considered a direct source of STD/HIV transmission as it serves as a poor host and the STDs cannot survive in it.

In certain rare scenarios, contact with infected fluids like semen, vaginal secretions, or blood while urinating could pose a risk; however, the likelihood of contracting an STD from urine alone is extremely low. That is why I’ve been told that people not on DR. D’s ‘clean list’ were allowed to feed me their piss but had to wear condoms when they fucked me or made me suck them.

As to my physical safety as a Urinal, with my peripheral vision limited I couldn’t see him, but always while anyone was strapped into the mouthpiece there was a ‘Bathroom Attendant’ on duty. I did notice the attendant when I peed there, just wasn’t aware of his duties. He was sitting on the chair in the corner ready to spring into action should the ‘fixture’ go into any kind of duress. I was told it was usually someone’s sub. They were briefed about what to look for, listen for, and what to do. They didn’t hand out towels or toiletries and tipping wasn’t necessary.

An explanation is warranted on the amazing videos that are perfect images of my wife and me. They are fake, neither of us appear for real in the films. One of the subs in the Social Club in Vegas where I am an honorary member is an intelligence-cinematographer, i.e. an AI film maker. I’m told he is well known and very successful in his field. He is an expert in AI deep learning, deepfake and generative adversarial networks and has invented and has technology patents on many of the systems used today in this fast-developing industry. I have been given a copy of his impressive resume, his name and personal information, of course, eradicated from the document. He currently is working on solutions to put markers on generated work so that fakes can be identified that depict real people, solving a real ethical industry problem.

I have previously seen and was the subject of his work that showed my own rope hanging, strangulation and death created for mind games play during my last Vegas visit (see my journal ‘Deep Down in the Depths of Servitude’). And now he is the genius behind the film work of my wife, the guys, and me as recounted in this diary. His motivation to produce it was his need to test his marker solution on some short AI modified videos. So, early this summer during a playdate with the gang at DR. D’s dungeon (I was not there) he asked if anyone wanted to shoot some films. Having fun with me was suggested, and a collaboration was put together. In the end it would include most of the gang and others taking part.

DR. D was the plot and story mastermind using my only non-forced journal (Because She Loves Me) that describes the bondage play my wife and I had on my birthday as his motivation. The two video story lines that evolved were from my admissions and personal thoughts in that journal. Filming required actors, which in the Cuckold video became the Doms that would attend the Fair. The female model that transformed into my wife was the same young lady who rode the Sybian and served as my tour mistress. The second model that became ‘me’ was her husband and Dominant.

They needed digital videos and stills of my wife. That was where our dear friend Mike came into play. Each year my family rents a large beachfront home on the Outer Banks. Our whole family comes as do relatives and friends. Mike has come before and was here this August at our insistence, he always helps make the week fun. It was there that he took phone videos of my wife playing beech volleyball in her bikini, sunbathing and swimming in the ocean. Also, while at dinner, touring and out just having a good time. I was in the recordings too. I suspected nothing. Didn’t know he was on assignment.

Our cinematographer is equally skilled in filming. Using cameras specifically designed for AI manipulation he recorded the boys having the sex depicted with the model. She is remarkably close in size and body features as my wife, just younger. I have since been schooled on a lot of the technical aspects of how it was done, much that was lost on me. I do know she wore some kind of suit at times that laid down data points needed for some of the processes.

I didn’t grasp the technical jargon of how he married information from Mike’s phone and my Vegas dungeon recordings to the action they filmed of the boys fucking her and her husband disciplining her, but he performed his magic and wa-lah we have films of the boys fucking my wife and of me torturing and screwing her restrained beautiful body.

I was told he put untold hours into the project as the taboo subject matter would not allow him to use his staff. He finished just in time to send it to San Francisco with the boys. Sadly, due to other pressing work deadlines, he was not free to travel to see his premiere. His dominant mate, who was one of the actors, was there. 

Regarding our perfect model, her kinks include being forced to ride the Sybian and being bound and then fucked by multiple men. She, like me, loves her spouse and he loves her. So, he lets her have her fun by being screwed exclusively by the gay men, so he won’t get jealous. He uses only men from our Club knowing they are both health wise and romantically safe. He lets her play with me because he knows my story and restrictions of having sex with other women. So, taking a Sybian ride here and playing with the boys in the studio, along with the bonus of being allowed to abuse me, is how she was ‘paid’ for her work. I don’t know if she has a SAG card.

Her husband served as the other performer in filming my wife bondage scenes. That is why the content was so compelling. DR. D’s vision and dungeon combined with this BDSM Dom engaging his favorite kink, doing his harshly bound wife, made for amazing shoots. His body shape and size, even age, is similar to mine, as his wife (other than age) was to my wife. It made the process go smooth and fast once the data points were loaded, matched, networked, etc., I’m told.

The Club actors were in San Francisco and reprise their roles live. Something I was curious about was how they pulled off having cum loaded cocks to stick in my mouth as they came out of the back room. So, while I was preparing this document, I asked how that trick was done.

Turns out they had the two Club subs in the backroom with them. They masturbated onto a plate, and the actors rolled their cocks in their mess before coming out to torment me. The Dom that only got a blow job from my ‘wife’ had a short BJ backstage to coat him with saliva before dipping his tip in the semen. DR. D fucked his mate for a bit before coating his cock, the other two taking on the second sub providing for the authentic mixed taste I got from them. What an effort to make this feel real. Very clever boys.

When the trip was set up, DR. D asked if I would have any problem with contributing $500 to help cover general expenses relating to the ‘party’. I was happy to send it along. Afterwards I found out it was really used to pay for the airfare of our two modeling stars. He wanted to thank them for helping, but more so he wanted my mind to have to deal with the fact that I had paid for her to be there. So, as we departed the airport on the way home, he made sure I knew. I didn’t mind paying for her flight; it was worth it, even made it a little fun thinking about it. I had been naughty. Sorry DR. D, you lost this one, a rarity I know.

While I was worried about the well-endowed guy from the Fair that made the $250 offer, he didn’t ever appear at the house. He must have found better or cheaper prey.

In Vegas most of what happened to me was recorded, both sight and sound. It helped greatly with accurately capturing all the details and dialog of my stories. Here, everything in the dungeon was also recorded including a straight on shot of the urinal. However, the overall coverage was not as sharp and sound was not as clear. There were not as many cameras and so the action isn’t always close up and tight. Especially difficult were the conversations, which were often hard to hear. It still helped immensely with my writing, but they are not as fun to watch for my entertainment and arousal as are previous trip recordings.

On the other hand, I was gifted copies of both films of my wife. I can’t count how many times I have already jerked off to her ‘bound by me’ video. And twice while enjoying a little self-bondage play, I watched her being taken by the four boys. To me, these are the most erotic porn films I have ever seen. So real. So very real. Too close to home. So hot. So very, very hot. I worry that I don’t have the only copies.

There was no ongoing recording of the Fair. Occasionally one of the masters would record on his phone some action when they knew something good was about to happen. I do have a few clips of me dancing on the pole. I have some of me taking fund-raising hits and strokes, the urinal gag drink, and my swaying stretched balls. There are also some shorts of our walking around from both tours. Good for the memories and helped a bit with the writing.

I know I was videoed and photographed at the Fair by hundreds of different people. I have scoured the web and social media. So far, I have not found anything of me posted. A relief. From the phone videos and still shots given to me by the boys, I know the hood, sunglasses and costume all did an excellent job of hiding my identity. I think I am completely safe from discovery. FYI, my anonymity, along with the masters and their friends, is provided in our contract agreement we have signed. It’s for everyone’s protection.

I have done much better this trip with handling my guilt from the ‘was it over the line’ internal struggle I have regarding the boys making me interact with women. What my best friend shared on the subject while I was on the bench did help. He could have left out the IcyHot.

A final comment on why I allow my bondage to go on past reasonable limits; why I let them take my general and sexual abuse to the point of torture; why I endure the mental games. It is a reasonable question to ask, and it is not easily explained.

One of the key rationalizations to me is that this servitude provides me with a release from the unbelievable build-up of stress I incur from my normal life of a strong, driven-to-success, goal-orientated, Type-A personality. (FYI, while successful at what I do in part because of my traits, I’m not a jerk, I am well liked by my customers, peers and subordinates. I think, however, without this release I could eventually become that jerk. I don’t want to be a jerk. I also don’t want to leave this earth prematurely due to a stress-induced heart attack. This play helps.)

I am highly competitive by nature. Today, that shows up in my entrepreneurial pursuits and business acumen. Back in my college days, that was evident in my cross country, track and swim team activities, always striving to win, holding numerous league records, elected as team captain. (The swim team is where I met Mike my freshman year.) I hate to lose. And so, when the masters try to beat me, be it physical or mentally, it is second nature for me to not only resist but to not let them win.

Another reason is my sexual fantasies for as long as I can remember revolves around bondage. I like it, it feels good, the tighter and more secure the better, being completely vulnerable to sexual assault, the best. Sick, right?

And then there are other factors, such as I think I owe the guys that helped me turn my fantasies into reality. They are BDSM Dom practitioners, restraining and abusing me is what sexually excites them. And so, I let them without restriction. Well, there are some, but anymore not many.

And there is the fact that they have copies of all the footage over the past two years of me servicing them in so many different perverted ways. It has never been threatened, not even suggested, that what they have recorded and kept could be used against me if I refuse to perform. But they could. I trust them, but I know they could ruin me.

Also, I know that once bound, I have lost ultimate control if my friends elect to turn on me. Safe words are meaningless if ignored. I know I could never prove a crime of kidnapping, rape, torture with all the films that show I voluntarily participated. I’d be to the cops just a sicko out getting his kicks who now has remorse or wants revenge. That potential risk adds to it all. So, I let them do what they want to do. I don’t want to cross them. Dangerous, exciting, isn’t it?

So collectively all these things and surely some others are my justification for letting them do what they do. I hope there will be future invitations to return to servitude so they can do it again. I need and want this.

Respectively submitted,

Sissy

Reviewed and approved for publication by:

Sir Michael, Master D, DR. D.