Vegas Twelve to One, Daunting Odds

In San Diego, my time on ‘the chair’ was probably the easiest stint I had in bondage there as I was simply strapped to the device and watched ‘women in bondage’ videos for two hours.  I hope the chair time in Vegas will be just as pleasant, likely it won’t be.

I am assisted up onto the chair and my ankles promptly cuffed in leather and secured to the chair legs by Master, assisted by a second master, his friend who arrived first to the party. The pole pegs are then inserted beside my knees so that my legs are spread wide and my privates fully exposed and vulnerable. Leather straps are then added over my thighs to secure them to the seat planks. My wrists are uncuffed from behind my back and positioned onto the arm rests and are held down with wrist cuffs padlocked to eyehooks protruding from the sides of the arms. Leather straps are buckled around my forearms near my elbows and the arms of the chair. A three-inch collar is buckled around my neck and locked to the back rest pulling me to it. They add a leather belt around my waist and behind the back rest to keep me in a square and upright posture position in the chair. I test my restraints and find that I am as expected firmly held. Whatever is planned for me, there will be no escape. That excites me as well as makes me anxious. The masters then add a ball gag. This one has multiple straps that as they are buckle, pulls the large ball deep and tight into my mouth. My tongue discovers a small hole going through the center of the ball which I think is to aid in breathing. I will soon find out that the assumption is incorrect.

Next, Master’s sub takes hold of my cock and places it into a large plastic urinal and I am ordered to pea. Well, I didn’t really need to go, so, I struggled and nothing for the moment comes. Master threatens me that if I don’t pea, he will insert a catheter to get the job done. That threat helps and I do get a little to come out, but obviously not enough to satisfy him. He calls out loudly for all to hear, “Okay, Bitch will not empty his bladder for me as I have asked. Will the other masters allow their subs to urinate in his cup for me? I would like a contribution from each of them.” Four subs immediately report for duty and in front of me each ceremoniously pisses a little into the cup, filling it well pass the halfway point of the quart and a half container. The fifth sub was currently strapped to one of the benches, so the urinal was taken to him, where he too added to the brew. It was brought back to where I was and Master added his own, topping off the bottle so that it was completely filled. “You know, if you had done as I asked, all you would have had to handle was your own. Now, my sweet prince, you enjoy all of us. Every drop!” snickers my host.

I am not happy. It is obvious that I am going to be abused with the collected liquid, be it bathed with it or made to consume it. Either way is not on my top ten list. In San Diego I experienced this. I lived, but it was not pleasant. In my journal I had mentioned my disfavor of its taste, and I speculate this is why I am about to be tortured by it again. I also recall being told by Sir Michael that piss play was one of Master’s submissive training methods and that is where the suggestion had come from to do it to me in SD.

I soon find out where the urine will go. He gets to work, showing me and explaining the delivery device as he sets up my planned torment. He has a disposable clear silicone two-quart enema bag with a six-foot vinyl delivery hose equipped with a precision yellow stopcock tap. He shows me each detail of the unit. After making sure the valve is closed, he pours all the collected pea cocktail from the urinal into the top opening of the bag, nearly filling it. He adds about ten ice cubes into the liquid, pushing them through the opening one at a time, saying that piss is more refreshing cold. He then corks the top of the full bag with its breathable screw cap. He hangs the bag a good two feet above my head with its attached steel hook to the top of the chair back. At this point I think this is going up my butt, a urine enema.

Next, he takes a long-tapered vinyl tube that came with the enema kit, normally used as the anal insertion probe and pushes it into the hole in my ball gag so that it protrudes fully through the hole and into my mouth by about an inch and a half, coming to rest on the back of my tongue. It appears I am wrong as to where it will be flowing. The taper makes the tube very secure and leakproof within the ball hole. I can feel two, maybe three small openings at the tip of the tube. I assume they will spray pee across my tongue to give me its full essence. Clear packing tape is then wrapped around my head and face so that the ball gag is sealed to my lips to keep any liquid from seeping out. Anything that now flows into my mouth must be swallowed as there is nowhere else for it to go and I know my mouth can hold nowhere near as much as was just poured into the bag. He then attaches the hose to the taper tube in my gag. The assembly is loaded, cocked and ready.

Testing of the system commences. Initially I get multiple short bursts of pee as he bleeds the line of gravity feed liquid. I quickly swallowed as I didn’t want it to remain in my mouth. Urine isn’t awful, but not pleasant either. I spoke about it in my last journal, it’s a little bitter, this time it’s salty too, a sour flavor, hard to describe. I have tasted my own a couple of times before as I played my home bondage games, and then had it squirted in my mouth direct from its source when I was bound by Sir Michael and one of his friends in San Diego as they waterboarded me. Sometimes it has a stronger taste, usually earlier in the day. I guess it depends on how well one is hydrated and how long it has been resting in your bladder. It’s still morning so this vile bend of six others and some of my own is a little strong. My taste buds are retaining the flavor. For the moment I’m fine. Happy? Hell no, but fine. I get another flow, a burst at first that slowed to a trickle then stops. I swallow again. Then another trickle that slows to a dripping. And it stays that way, a drip coming out every two to two and a half seconds. I don’t know the plan, but if the flow continues this way it could take hours to empty the bag if that is their intent. I fear that my body will begin to reject this as I continue to swallow it down. If I vomit, I’ll be in trouble as my mouth is sealed. The dripping continues. I gulp it down about once every thirty seconds to a minute, usually when my mind detects a small pool has accumulated in my mouth. There is nothing else I can do.

I am then shown my next assault tool. He describes the machine with pride, telling me it is called a Mini Stallion Fucking Machine, almost like he’s trying to sell it to me. He informs me it has an adjustable speed of 90 to 300 RPM and that I am going to experience its entire speed spectrum this morning. It looks powerful, despite its small size. It’s stroke length of two to five plus inches is demonstrated to me and I become more anxious. This is a serious machine, one that can be adjusted by height, angle, stroke speed and depth. It came with three accessory tips, each shown to me, including a silicone tapered dildo for anal exploration, a seven-inch realistic dildo for deep penetration and a vibrating dildo that allows the abuser to remotely adjust the speed of penetration and to adjust the powerful vibration. I am informed it is this last attachment that will be used.

The chair has been designed to accept this machine and so set up beneath me is quick. My butt hole is lubed up and the machine angle is set to squarely penetrate me. The drive rod is rotated so that I am pierced by the dildo and adjusted so that I will be invaded to my limit but not escape me when it cycles back. He starts the machine, thankfully at a slow speed, and my ass begins to be fucked with deep slow thrusts, with each lunge retracting back almost the full length, yet keeping the head embedded in me before it moves upward again. The first three or four rotations are painful, but manageable. After that, my butt accepts it just like all the cocks and dildos that have previously entered me, just smoother and more even in its assault. This will change as the speed is varied and vibration turned on and up. The machine drives on without effort and I come to the realization that my ass could and may well be fucked for hours, who knows? I hope I can bear it and that my hole doesn’t tear or become rubbed raw, a distinct possibility.

And the slow dripping in my mouth continues.

They are not done; my chair sitting will feature at least one more antagonizer. His co-master opens an unassuming case, the one his sub carried in with him when we first ‘met’, He pulls his toy out of the box. “I brought this just for you. It’s a Milker Automatic Masturbation Machine,” he too acting like the many salesmen I chatted with at the trade show earlier in the week.  As he holds it up, I recognize it as device designed to go around the penis to mimic real sex with automatic stroking and suction. “I assume you have never used one of these, they can both please and tease. You told me when you greeted us that you wanted me to abuse you. Well, I’m going to let the machine milk you straight through multiple orgasms driving you into the realms of insanity,” he wickedly tells me. “My sub when tied down goes berserk straining against his bondage within minutes of his orgasm when I keep it running past ejaculation. I shut it off because I love and care about him. You are not so lucky as I plan to let it run until you are having dry ejaculations, maybe longer than that and tied as you are there’s nothing you can do to stop me. I can’t wait to see what happens when it goes on relentlessly as you fight against your restraints. Sorry Bitch, but I am here to have fun, and you signed up to be the entertainment.”  

The toy comes with two cylinders, a long one meant as full shaft pleaser and the second one that is a short cylinder built to tease delicate spots like the tip of the penis. I’ll be getting the full shaft. He commands his nearby sub to make me hard. I expect a blow job, but instead I am hand masturbated and vibrated till I’m rock hard. The kid was good at his assignment. I’m sure the robo-cock that is still going into and out of my butt hole helped. Once hard, my shaft is further lubed, and the cylinder is placed over it. The device is held tight against my groin by cords secured around my waist. Even if I go placid, my cock will not fall out of its grasp. It is turned on and my trapped cock feels the pleasant pulling and sucking it was designed to provide.

And the slow dripping in my mouth continues.

“OK, he’s seen enough, put a blindfold on him so he can concentrate on his ride,” orders Master and I am blindfolded into darkness. The cock in my butt comes to a halt and I feel them add a new coating of lube on it and around my hole. “It looks like he could use a drink before we get started,” says Master and I am caught off guard as a rush of piss floods my mouth. Unhappily and without choice, I gulp it down, nearly chocking on it as I feel movement again in my butt hole and the flow in my mouth returns to dripping. The speed of the thrusts has been increased. And then the vibration is turned on. There must be two working the controls because simultaneously the action on my cock accelerates. Other than the piss, this feels good. My dick is getting excited, hard, real hard from the sucking action and movement with the vibrations and thrusting in my ass stimulating my prostrate and the like. Wow, nice.

I was allowed to enjoy the ecstasy of the moment for probably five minutes. I was on a path to climax when the boys began to adjust the controls, first turning up the speed of butt penetration, then increasing the vibrations. The masturbater was then put at a more intense sucking and pulling level. I am not going to handle the new stroking speed for long. As hard as I try not to, I last maybe just another three or four minutes when I go rigid and my dick begins to spasm, shooting my load into the cylinder. The device doesn’t mind and keeps stroking and sucking my weakened but still slightly pulsating semi-rigid cock while I continue to be pounded from behind. My dickhead, now super sensitive tries to pull away from the machine, but it is trapped. The stimulation is now unpleasant, and I struggle with my bonds. I hear laughter and the comment “Look at him go; no matter how hard he strains he can’t get away from it, this is great!” Being milked post ejaculation is a severe pain/pleasure kind of stimulation. The body involuntarily tries to escape from it, in this case to no avail. If it was being done manually, the abuser would likely ease off, but this machine is unyielding, relentless, ruthless. I am rewarded for my ejaculation with a large gulp of my beverage. A shock as it was certainly unexpected.

As the cock machine continues using my own cum as lube, the butt assault is stopped so the shaft can be again re-lubed as to protect my hole from the ongoing friction. They will do this about every five to seven minutes during my time on the chair and it did save me. They often used the same time to give me a mouthful of urine, then returning the flow to drips. It appears to amuse them. This co-timing was helpful as I began to expect it and therefore was ready for the burst of pee when it came, unlike the first. Towards the end of this ordeal, I began to feel bloated and sick to my stomach from the overhydration by the foul liquid. And ironically now I needed to pee.

It took a while for my body to accept the continued cock stimulation after fruitless attempts to otherwise get away from it. When they noticed my tolerance change, they adjusted the speed back down a bit. They turned down the butt vibration too but increased the thrust speed. A few minutes later, someone began fondling my balls as someone else messaged my nipples. These actions helped to revigorated my cock and it began its recovery presenting a new erection. It took longer, as common, to get to the point of orgasm the second time, but before long with this added attention we were again approaching a climax. The vibration was increased, the stroking/sucking action was likewise accelerated, and soon I was squirting in the cylinder once again, just not as much.

The continuation of the milking the second time was worse. I was surprised with the energy I was exerting against my restraints, but they held fast, and so did the cylinder around my dick and the plug moving in my butt. I was weakening from my over exertion. The waist twisting I was doing to try to free my cock was causing my butt hole to ache as the thrust rod and dildo were rigid and unyielding, so it was my butt hole that had to absorb the stress.

More lube, more piss, more stroking, more agony.

I find myself trying to hold my breath to keep the shaft and head stimulations from pushing me over the edge. My mind is going spastic, just as the master had predicted and wanted. They play with my nipples, balls and with the controls and eventually I get somewhat erect again and after a lot of up and down of the cylinder controls and the ass vibrations at full speed and butt thrust high, I ejaculate a third time, not sure how much came out, if anything. I do know my dick was spasming and that the cylinder kept going, I squirmed, struggled, cried, and they laughed.

More lube, more piss, more stroking, constant agony.

Then a stop in the action. The cylinder was change out for the smaller one which was placed over my oh so sensitive dickhead. The butt plunger was re-lubed, piss gulp delivered, and we were back to action. This dick stroking was more intense as it was localized and working on my most susceptible spot. The nerve endings were on fire and unhappy. Yet the mind and body responded with an erect penis. The orgasm came quicker, I’m sure nothing was discharged, all it did was spasm, jumping around as the top-heavy cylinder at the head of my cock caused it to swing. Its cords keeping it from falling off, much to my dismay. The stimulations kept coming and I was truly suffering to my captor’s delight. Apparently watching the mental anguish of cock overstimulation is more amusing to these Dom’s of BDSM then other forms of punishments and abuses they deliver. Milking a man to insanity, who would have thought?

More lube, more piss, more stroking, complete agony.

By now my mind and body were like Jello and I became numb to the abuse. I’m not sure if I had dry ejaculated again or not. It was likely. The last half hour of this torment is mostly a blur. I know that they continued to readjust the speeds and vibration level every few minutes. It may have been to allow the others in the room to take turns abusing me and seeing if they could get reactions. I was shattered and had no reactions left. I had consumed way too much piss, suffered too many thrusts, too much stroking. My cock and ass felt broken, and my stomach nauseated when they finally shut the butt and dick machines down. I was left bound to the chair for a good half hour, maybe longer to recover as best I could, however, they continued to let the pee drip into my mouth and the now motionless cock remained fully extended into my butt during my rest time. I did fall off to sleep once and woke suddenly as I nearly choked from the urine that had accumulated in my mouth. When I was finally released from the chair, I was reminded that the original intent was for me to drink just my own pea and if I had given them a reasonable discharge to use when asked I would have drunk a lot less and I would surely had been done with this torture sooner. It’s a little late to tell me that. Back on my feet, I was a little unsteady, but did feel better, some strength had returned. My hands this time are cuffed in front of me so that I can eat a granola energy bar that has been given to me. My lunch. It helps clear the nasty taste in my mouth, but a little burp brings it right back. I am also offered two Pepto-Bismol tablets, telling me it will help settle my stomach. I take them. The food bar and tablets seemed to settle my stomach, along with taking a substantial pee into the empty urinal bottle. I guess I am ready for the next ordeal, but then, ready or not, it is going to happen.