Vegas Twelve to One, Daunting Odds

Friday morning did come, although in this room with no windows you could not tell day from night. I was laying there somewhat awake but with my eyes still closed when I heard the dungeon door being opened, then the lights came on and I heard the main cell door opening and closing. The TV monitors are shut off and the sound system changed to quiet non-descript background music. I can hear other activities by whoever has entered but I can’t really determine what they are doing.

It took a little while, but eventually I heard steps coming close, so I made sure I was looking alert and ready to serve. The door is unlocked, and I receive a simple and direct order from who I assume is our other Host, “Come on out, bring your urinal if you used it.” There was to be no formal introduction. I retrieved the bottle and crawled out. He is naked but wearing a full black leather strap harness having straps over his shoulders and a strap that circles his back and chest connecting together between his pecks with a silver ring, with another strap descending from this ring to a second ring located just below the navel that connects a strap that circles his body just above his hips. From this ring another strap descends to a ring that incircles his dick and ball-sack before a trailing strap disappears between his legs. All these straps interconnect with like rings in the back. There is also a large buckle in both the front and back between the rings to help put on and adjust the harness. He is also wearing a leather submissive collar like mine but without an inscribed name.

“Time to complete your journal for yesterday and then your morning workout, follow me. Do you need to use that?” he said referring to the bottle. “Yes, Sir,” I reply. “OK, then stop and use it.” This is both embarrassing and difficult with my hands still secure primarily behind me as they were all night. As I struggle to reach around and align my penis to the bottle he says, “Hold on, I’ll get it.” He then takes the bottle, already partially filled with urine from last night, grabs my dick and sticks it in the neck of the bottle and waits. Talk about a shy bladder, made more difficult by the comment “Get on with it we haven’t got all day”. I eventually finished and we are on the move again with him carrying my bottle. More big-time embarrassment, I think by design. There will be worse to come. He takes me to the conference table where my computer is already open and plugged in. He releases my two wrist cuffs and tells me to sit down. After I do, he takes the now free cuffs and locks them to eyehooks in the table, one to each side of me and I am now unable to flee from where I sit. I get to writing, trying to recall every detail from yesterday and last night. I have learned the hard way how difficult it can be to recreate your story as Sir Michael will again want me to do if you don’t have a comprehensive journal containing activity and bondage details, pleasure and pain descriptions and my thoughts on what was being done to me. It takes a while until I get my ‘homework’ done. I was not rushed. I am unlocked from the table, cuffs reattached to me, and we walk to the cell doors, go up the stairs and exit the dungeon. We cross the hall to a door directly opposite from the one we are leaving and enter into a nice little gym. Little in comparison to the playroom, big for most home gyms. There are free weights, a few weight machines, an elliptical trainer, a stationary bike, and a treadmill. Mirrors adorn the walls. I am uncomfortable seeing my nakedness being reflected 360 back at me. The room has a cushioned mat type floor. And there is a dreaded scale, but everything else is nice.

“I understand you normally do stretches, work out on weight machines and sometimes use cardio equipment.” “Yes Sir,” is my reply. He then uses an unlocking tool to remove my irons but then puts back on leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles, locking them on with miniature locks through their hasps. Overkill, I think to myself. Then he secures in place a three-foot-long vinyl covered flexible metal cable between the wrist cuffs. He does the same with another cable to the leg cuffs. “Master wants you to do all the stretches you do at the gym. He then wants you to also use the elliptical for 30 minutes. Use the ‘quick start’ program. You should have ample movement in your restraints to get it done.” I was able to complete what was just demanded. The only issue was the plug that was still in my butt and was now irritating my hole with the friction of my movements, the original lube no longer effective.

Somethings still are hard for me to understand. When I was done, the wrist and ankle cuffs were removed, and the original irons were put back on with each cuff and collar requiring the special tool to bolt them back together, then I was walked back across the hall into the dungeon where I was then taken into the wet room and stood in front of the metal Tee where the irons were again painstakingly removed and put aside and only to be immediately rebound here. I wasn’t going to flee on the short wall across the hall or likewise during the walk I had earlier to the bench. I had volunteer to be bound. Is this needed? (I learned later there wasn’t a security need to physically keep me bound, but a desire to keep me mentally bound. Mentally surrendering to the realization that one would never be free of their physical bondage helps a submissive realize the inevitability of their situation, succumbing first to acceptance, then enjoyment, and finally craving of the sexual use and tortures that gratifies the master. I was also told that keeping one tired, sleep limited, in stretches of solitude, and confusingly punished at times seemly for no reason helps him submit to his total submission to his Dominant sooner, sometimes within a long weekend. That was their goal.)

I saw that there were now chains affixed to the four recessed securing points around the Tee and hanging from the ceiling rings over the first shower where there had been none at either place during the tour. Also, there were chains coming from recessed rings in the floor near the walls and aligned with the ceiling chains, securing points I hadn’t noticed before. I assume this was some of what he was attending to when he first arrived this morning. Shiny metal cuffs were then secured to my wrists and ankles. He maneuvered my legs wide and secured them to the outer chains and then pushed me over the Tee beam so that my belly rested on its cold surface and then secured my wrist to the remaining two inside floor chains. All done without any words exchanged. There would continue to be no conversation, just a few short commands.

The plug is abruptly pulled from my hole with a twist and dropped onto the floor. A dab of lube and then a rubber douche wand is inserted into my rectum, cold water jetted in, and a simple command “Push it out.” Which I reluctantly did, beginning the most embarrassing and unpleasant activity that I can ever remember. This went on for four, maybe five cycles of insert wand, squirt water and push out. I then feel a new dab of lube put into me and I am shown the long nosed rectal speculum that is about to be inserted and opened. That is followed by a long flexible vibrator that is also shown to me and then is maneuvered around deep inside of me for a time, circling and probing, then secured with a Velcro strap so it stays within me running. I’m informed the speculum and vibration is to help me drain as water was flowed deep within my rectum and probably into my sigmoid colon. I’m told to help by pushing out about once a minute. I can feel a trickle, occasionally, run down my leg. The hose on the wall was then used to wash the mess on the tile floor below me down the drain as I remained bent over the stainless-steel Tee, secured and unable to flee. I was left there for maybe ten to fifteen minutes, stretched open, vibrated, and I guess, draining.

As I gaze around from my bounds, I see the cameras, the wet room is being recorded too. How gross. There is one pointed at the Tee from behind me, everything would have been in view. I felt like I wanted to cry, humiliated at what just happened to me and that it was recorded, maybe even being watched by others as I am held here.

He was back. The vibrator and the speculum are removed. I was told to “Push out again.” I did, and I can feel a little liquid, just a drop or two trickled out of my closed anus. I was lubed again, wand reinserted and three more, shorter cycles of insertion, water jetted in, and “Push it out.” It is followed by the reinsertion of the speculum and more vibration deep inside of me. Then something new is added, a sucking feeling and sound. A semi-rigid vinyl tube is being manipulated deep inside of me lapping up, I guess, whatever water remains within me. It’s just a minute or so of this action, then a removal of the tube, vibrator and the speculum. The hose again was used to clean the floor to the drain and this time to squirt down my butt and legs. The water was not warm. I am left again, this time for about ten minutes. He is back, gives the command “Push out again.” I do. He runs his hand up my crack in an inspection sort of way.  I appear free of any discharge. He is satisfied I am cleansed and dry.

He then puts another dab of lube on my hole and without mercy or remorse, unceremoniously pushes straight in another butt plug while announcing that “This one is yours. It is bigger than what I pulled out.” I had only brought two plugs, both Lovense Hush 2 Bluetooth remote control vibrating plugs. The larger one is 1.75 inches in width and at home it takes me a long time of a gentle slow in and out vibrating insertion to get it past my door. Because of the rough insertion there is instant agony and cramping as the thickest girth passes through till my hole slams shut around the thinner throat. It takes a while for me to catch my breath and for the pain to subside. Meanwhile, he unlocks my wrists and ankles, spins me around so my back is now against the Tee, resecures my legs wide, pushes me backward against the Tee and resecures my hands behind me so my privates are now being thrust forward.

My balls and crack are lathered up and I am carefully, gently shaved with a straight razor and rinsed. My bush is left untouched which was a Contract requirement. He moves to my face and does the same thing. I use an electric razor. On rare occasion I have shaved with a multi-blade razor, but this is the first time ever that someone else has shaved my face and with a straight razor at that. When he is finished, he methodically unlocks me from the Tee chains and moves me to under the ceiling chains, puts each of my arms up in the air and locks me to those chains. My legs are pulled apart and attached to the floor chains. I am now in a taught standing spread eagle. I am rinsed down with cold water from the nearby hand shower head, scrubbed all over with soap and re-rinsed. Then my hair was shampooed. I received a final rinsing, still with cold water and apparently left to drip dry. My shivering helps the water drip off my body.

It was a long time before the next return. All was dry by then, except my hair and leather Bitch collar which were still damp. He combed my hair. I was then released, which pleased me as my arms and shoulders were aching at this point from being held spread above my head. It was again back into the irons, and I was taken back over to near the refrigerator and conference table. He says, “Get down on your knees” and I comply. Using a dry measuring cup, I watch him pour out exactly one cup of Fiber One Bran Cereal and put it into a dog dish. He adds one half cup of almond milk taken from the frig. The bowl is sat down on the floor in front of me and I am told “You’ll want to eat it all, it is likely your big meal for the day.”

OK, this weekend is going to be a lot different from the time spent in San Diego. These guys are really treating me as a submissive, maybe lower than that. Having no options I lay down as best I can with my arms behind me due to the way the irons have been placed. I stick my face in the bowl and using my tongue and lips I struggle to eat. When finished, he pulls the bowl away and tells me to get up and go back to the wet room. He takes me to the sink, where he takes my toothbrush, puts a squirt of my Crest on it, tells me to open wide and proceeds to brush my teeth. He opens a bottle of water, brings it to my mouth and tells me to rinse. After that is done, he tells me I must take my meds. He has my two daily meds in his hand he says, “Open” and drops the two pills on my tongue then brings up the bottle of water to my lips and pours water into my mouth. I swallow trying not to choke.  He then says, “Open again, drops two more pills on my tongue and pours in the water. I look at him quizzically and he simply says, “Cialis.” The final “Open,” and my chewable orange gummy is dropped in for my consumption. He wipes my face, clearing it of both the dribbled toothpaste and the remnants of my slurping breakfast. No way to describe it other than weird, change that to gross. My morning routine turned into complete embarrassing humiliation. Later, upon pondering it I’ve come to realize many of these tasks I find revolting or disgusting may likewise be the same to him. He is subservient to the same Master at the moment, and this is a demonstration of his required servitude. I hope he is enjoying it. I hate it.

We leave the wet room again and he takes me back to the bed cage and I am told to get in, still confined by the irons. It is locked and he leaves the dungeon, turning back on the videos and killing the lights. My mind is racing as I detested my morning preparation. This treatment wasn’t in any of my fantasies, but here, it is part of servitude, so I must accept it. I try to think of it as one of my punishments. Maybe that is why they kept me in bondage during it all.

I divert my mind by watching one of the screens. Right now, it’s a naked woman being severely shocked in the pussy and on her nipples as she lays on her back locked down to an iron grid with evil looking metal restrains, holding her ankles, knees, hips, wrists, forearms, neck, and head. The grid sits in a rectangular metal basin filled with water so that it covers her up except for the tips of her toes, tops of her boobs and just enough of her face exposed so the water doesn’t cover her mouth, nose and eyes. There are even metal turn-screws going into her ears holding her down, while her mouth has a metal ring gag holding it open. Also fixed to the grid is an electrified bulging copper cone that protrudes into her cunt. It looks ominous and causes her to buck every few seconds as the electric pluses cycle back on. The look on her face is of utter terror and the shocks are so violent that her arching, repulsing body creates waves that cause water to flow into her mouth, making her think she will drown. Her screams are so disturbing I wish my arms were free so I could cover my ears. I watch, despite the violent torture, as it is captivating, much like a car wreck.