Slings and Shackles - Chapter 5
Slings and Shackles
© 2021
by
Jonathan Longhorn
Copyright © 2021 by Jonathan Longhorn (jonathan_longhorn at yahoo dot com). All rights reserved. Except for the use of less than two pages in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means is forbidden without the express written permission of the author. Express permission is granted to The Nifty Erotic Stories Archive for storage, indexing, retrieval, and display of this work.
Disclaimer: The material in this work is for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content and language. It is intended only for those aged 18 and older. All of the characters in this work are assumed to be at least 18 years of age.
Warning: This story contains scenes of intense BDSM domination and submission. Please read another of my stories if intense BDSM bothers you.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and settings are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, names, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. In the real world having sex without using a condom can be very dangerous to your health. Don’t ruin your life or your future. Slip it on before you slide it in.
All trademarks used in this work are the sole property of their owners and have been used without permission or endorsement.
Chapter 5
So, at the end of the last chapter, I told you about the reactions that were floating around The Arena when Master Logan and Master Kent pulled the hood up and away—revealing, well—me—to the crowd. The Ooh’s and Ah’s, the gasps and the WTFs that circulated amongst the 500-plus ticket holders, staff, security, special invitees….
From the other side of the mask, my reactions were somewhat similar and yet, totally different. If that makes any sense.
My first thought was, ouch! Those fucking spotlights were bright as fuck! After being in a total blackout state under that hood for the last, what, thirty, forty-five…sixty minutes, those bright spotlights were damned near blinding.
As I squinted under the harsh lighting—which I knew was there because this wasn’t my first time on this stage, except usually I was the Dom not the sub—I felt my head tilt as I truly took in those lights. They sparkled and shimmered and almost seemed to kaleidoscope their way around and corkscrew their way into my brain. Pretty. So very pretty. Captivating.
Damn, that shit Master Kent mixed into my iced tea-sized glass of bourbon was kicking my butt.
The second thing to draw my attention when the hood was lifted was the monitors. Holy fuck, the monitors! I had completely forgotten about those fuckers. Two one hundred-fifty inch monitors. On. Every. Wall. In. The. Fucking. Place! They were placed so that no matter where someone ended up standing during a scene, a small and intimate concert, an educational seminar, whatever, everyone would be able to have the perfect view of what was taking place up on stage even if they were awash in a sea of humans between them and said stage.
And on those ginormous screens right now was…me. Naked. Caged. Collared. Leashed. Tit weights alligator clamped to my nipples, freshly cue balled…me. For. Everyone. To. See.
Now don’t get me wrong, when I am not being an Alpha Top Dom, which by the way I don’t mind an audience then either, I am very comfortable being in front of cameras and pursued by adoring fans after another of my movies has hit the big screen and is destined to be the next big thing in ticket sales….
Sorry, I digress.
And then there was the crowd. My eyes having adjusted sufficiently enough by this time, I was able to focus—although still somewhat bleary-eyed thanks to whatever Master Kent put in my drink—on that aforementioned sea of humanity. In a cavernous room like The Arena, 500+ people actually looks like a ‘sea’ of humanity. Tall, short, lean, built, bear, cub, twink, Doms, some subs who managed to get into the event somehow. Well, if they had the cash, they could get a ticket. They were dressed in an equally varying array. Some suit and tie types. Jeans and tees. Slacks and dress shirts. Chaps. Leather vests. Leather jackets. Leather straps across their chests. And some of the subs were in short shorts or jocks or briefs. Some even were in jeans and shirtless.
As the crowd continued to roar and applaud and gawk, my eyes drifted from one human to the next as best I could focus. Remember that shit that Master Kent had mixed into my bourbon? Yeah, that shit was totally kicking my butt. Like, totally kicking my butt. Speaking of my butt. My pussy cunt was feeling really empty and hungry. What was that about?
And there, what could possibly be ID’d as third row, center although there were no rows at this point because everyone was crushing their way up as close to the stage as possible to get a better view of, well—me, was Kelly Longmont. Bright-eyed, dimpled, smiling, beautifully-built Kelly Longmont. Kelly is a multi-million dollar luxury home and ranch sales agent. He is also a very hungry to serve bottom sub. He is ‘my’ number one hungry to serve bottom sub on a recurring basis. I Alpha Top Dom the fuck out of him when he makes an appointment. Hell, I have dominated him right here, on this stage, with a crowd watching and cheering us on more than once.
My number one ‘sub’ is standing there in the crowd watching as I go down. Or, am about to go down. Our eyes lock. Mine go wide in humiliation. Kelly’s piercing green eyes dance and seem to convey the message ‘oh yeah, we’re gonna talk later, bitch’.
“Who?” Master Kent’s voice pulls me in. “Who are you looking at, boy?”
“Um…third row, sort of. Center.” Of course, with the ball gag still in my mouth that came out as total gibberish. However, Master Kent followed my pathetic attempt at talking like a normal human and my nod into the crowd and he found who I was referring to.
“Isn’t that your regular sub? Kelly, right?” I nod in my growing stupor. Fuck whatever he put in my drink is kicking…my…ass. “Huh. Maybe we should invite him up on stage later and you can get on your knees and service him and then he can fuck your pussy cunt’s brains out.” He chuckled like some maniacal clown that had been inhaling bath powder before a big show. “How hot would that be, huh? You, Alpha Top Dom used-to-be, on your knees, worshiping your former ‘sub’s’ REAL MAN’s COCK before he lays you back and fucks the ever-loving tar out of your newly drilled pussy cunt and breeds you. Right here. In front of this crowd. Talk about a ‘win’ for the pussy cunt boys everywhere.”
Gulp.
How do you spell humiliation to the max? Being on my knees, servicing my own ‘sub’? And then, said ‘sub’ fucking my pussy cunt? In front of a totally stoked and cheering crowd?
Huh. Why did my stomach and my pussy cunt’s lips flutter and twitch at that thought?
A sudden tugging on my leashes drew my thoughts back to the ‘now’ of now. I was being led back to a more centralized location of the stage where I was turned so that my back was facing the crowd. Master Kent and Master Logan reached out and removed my leashes. Too, thankfully, they removed the ball gag. I worked my jaw round and round trying to loosen it up.
“Don’t worry about your jaw,” Master Logan said sternly. I resisted the urge to look up into his eyes for fear of getting another jolt from that fucking clit cage. “You’re going to have much larger things in your mouth very soon.”
Gulp.
I had no doubt what those ‘larger things’ entailed.
“Now, here’s what you are going to do next, boy,” Master Logan said after he handed off the leashes to a stagehand who had appeared out of nowhere. “You are going to drop to your hands and knees and you will crawl over to Master Kent’s feet. You will lean in and you will kiss and lick his boots. Top, sides, and soles. And you will continue to do so until Master Kent says that is enough. At which time, you will rise up to your knees facing him and wait for your next instruction. Understand?”
I suppose my response should have been automatic but I spent a couple of seconds wondering if maybe I had leaped before I thought about all of these consequences that were lining up in front of me. I had to remind myself that this was all for the LGBTQ+ Center and the young ones that it helped 24/7. My considerations cost me, of course.
Zap! Zap! Zap! Zap! Zap!
Aarrgghh! Aarrgghh! Aarrgghh!
My clit and sack were being fried inside that electro-cage again. The shocks were stronger now. Much, much stronger. Master Logan had obviously turned up the voltage. He reached out with his free hand and lifted my chin so that I was staring into his eyes. Wicked, mischievous eyes.
“Careful, boy. At this rate, you’ll never fuck again. Your clit will become permanent. You will become a permanent sub for a Dom. And that Dom will be very happy to fuck you on a regular basis.”
Gulp.
“Get on your hands and knees. Crawl. Now.”
Just for emphasis, of course, three more electro-jolts seared through my clit and sack. Oh man, if I ever get my hands on a cage and if Master Logan ever falls asleep naked…. I’ll…. I’ll…. I don’t know what I would do. Damn it!
“Yes, Sir.”
I dropped to my knees in front of Master Logan and then to my hands and I pivoted. Mid-pivot, my eyes connected with a smirking Kelly Longmont once more. He was enjoying the hell out of this. I continued my pivot to look across the stage to where Master Kent was seated on a fucking bench—his feet stretched out before him. Those perfectly shined boots waiting to be worshiped. I began crawling on my hands and knees toward him. My heart racing. My head still swimming and swirling in that vortex of my mind. What the hell was that stuff that Master Kent put in my glass of bourbon anyway?
When I reached my destination, suspiciously with my upturned butt facing the crowd, I immediately bent down and began kissing Master Kent ’s left boot. I kissed the strap that ran across the top of his foot. I kissed the top of the boot body. I kissed the sides. I leaned farther forward and around to kiss the edge of the heel.
“Good boy,” Master Kent stated as he lifted his foot and gave me access to the sole of his boot. I inhaled deeply, taking in the leather and aroma of that boot before I began kissing the sole from toe to heel and back. “While you’re there, lick it, boy”
Of course, I was going to be told to do that. Of course, I was.
And I did. I don’t know where I managed to produce the saliva for a tongue bath but somehow, I did. I obediently began licking and bathing the sole of his boot with my tongue and when it glistened from toe to heel, I began working my way around until I had the entire boot slick with my spit up to the leg of his leather pants.
“Good boy,” Master Kent said with a pat on the top of my head. “Good boy. Now the other boot, boy.”
Why that ‘good boy’ and the head pat felt ‘good’, I have no idea. But they did.
Without a word, I adjusted my kneeling so that I was hovering over his other boot and I began my worship ritual all over.
It was faint. I was barely able to make it out. But a bit here and a piece there drifted from the crowd of ticket holders and across the stage. Naturally. Of course. In this position on my hands and knees, not only was my butt raised nice and high for everyone to see but also my pussy cunt and that bejeweled plug that had me stuffed like a porpoise had been shoved in there. How could I have forgotten that plug in the last minutes? It was enormous. It was fucking fat! And it was throbbing and pulsing and vibrating deep inside me. And, apparently, if the whispers and guffaws were correct, that bejeweled tip wasn’t just ‘pretty’. Apparently, it glowed like a star—it’s ever-changing light show pulsing with the vibrations that it was delivering deep up my ass.
I was licking the sole of Master Kent’s right foot. Worshiping it to an equally moist state as I did the left when I heard another bit and piece of conversation. This, not from the crowd of onlookers, however. This was Master Logan and Master Kent.
“How much….” I heard Master Logan say. “…give him?”
“The last three hits I mixed in were doubled….” I heard Master Kent responding. “Mumble, mumble, mumble.” And the next bits and pieces I heard were something like “…hitting him any second now.”
I licked up and around and began worshiping the top portion of his right boot. I was producing a great amount of spit here. I was proud of myself. This boot puppy was going to be so slick he could slide it up inside my…. Okay, I better not finish that thought.
“What did you…mumble…mumble,” from Master Logan.
“Mumble. Mumble,” Master Kent was saying. “The last…mumble…Whoremaker.”
Whoremaker? Whoremaker! Holy. Fucking. Fuck!
I was in trouble. I was really in trouble. Whoremaker made you, well, a whore. It completely rewired your brain and made you a cock hungry bitch. You couldn’t get enough of it. It turned you into a complete, total, 100% bottom bitch pussy cunt.
Holy. Fuck.
I’m fucked.
I’m totally fucked.
Figuratively.
Literally.
And any other adjective or verb you wanna enter here.
“Mumble. Mumble,” I heard Master Kent saying. “…hitting full-on at any moment.”
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I don’t know what he had given me ‘first’ but when he refilled the glass and added something later? Now I know it was Whoremaker, and, like he said, it was going to hit any….
Whoa.
Oh fuck.
Oh. Fuck.
It hit just then.
It. Was. Hitting. Hard.
A handful of my hair was used to pull me up to my knees and I was suddenly staring at the open crotch of Master Kent’s black leather pants. His three-quarter semi-hard cock was out and angling toward me. His massive balls were out. They were dripping in his sweat after being encased in that leather cocoon for so long. Literally. Dripping.
Powerful hands—one gripping that handful of hair and the other on the back of my head, guided me toward that sweat-dripping crotch. Even only three-quarters hard, that cock was massive. Massive and hardening. Massive, hardening and throbbing. And glistening with sweat just like his balls. Precum was mixed with that sweat I was sure. I could see his precum bubbling from his slit and oozing into a string ready to drop if it wasn’t wiped away very soon. Or, slurped away.
My tongue raked across my lower lip as I was drawn closer and closer to that chunk of meat and those huge, sweaty balls.
“I saw that tongue, boy,” Master Kent said with a chuckle. “You’re feeling hungry, huh?” I’m not sure but I think I nodded. “It’s okay. A boy like you should be hungry for his Dom’s REAL MAN’s COCK and his ‘flow’.” My face was so close to his crotch now that I could smell his essence. That sweat. His natural scents. His…aroma. My nostrils were flaring with each breath, I’m sure. “Go ahead, boy. Lick it. Slurp on those juices before they fall wasted to the stage floor. But, don’t suck. Not yet. Just lick it up.”
Permission granted, I moved in and with a mind of its own, my tongue began licking and lollipopping it’s way around and up and down Master Kent’s ever-hardening REAL MAN’s COCK.
REAL MAN’s COCK. Where had I heard that before? Oh yeah, Master Kent had just said it a moment ago. Yeah. It was a perfect description. A REAL MAN’s COCK. And I was about to worship it like the bitch pussy cunt bottom boy that I was sinking into becoming by the second.
Once I had his current precum bubbles and flows licked clean and they were clinging to my tongue, Master Kent offered up a ‘good boy’ and a pat on my head before those strong hands guided my face against his balls.
“Breathe it in, boy,” he commanded. “Breathe it in. Take in the scent and the essence of a REAL MAN’s COCK and BALLS, boy. Relish it. Cherish it. Learn to recognize your need for it. You are a sub. It is your duty to recognize those hungers and be ready to feast when your Dom gives you permission. Breathe it in, boy. Breathe it in.”
Holy. Shit.
He smelled amazing. Master Kent’s balls smelled amazing. And more of his precum was bubbling and rolling down his nearly fully-erect cock now—his REAL MAN’s COCK—and I could smell it. I could smell his juices even as I was sniffing and snorting my way into his massive balls.
So caught up was I that I barely registered the roar of applause and the cheering, the whoops, the hollers, the cackles erupting from the crowd.
I don’t know how long I was there, sniffing and snorting through my nose buried in Master Kent’s balls but he gripped that handful of hair again and pulled my head away from them. He used the fingers of his other hand to lift my chin upward until I could see into his sparking eyes.
“It’s time, boy,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s time to taste your first cock. A REAL MAN’s COCK. Open up. Taste it. Suck it. Become the cocksucker that you are meant to be.”
I felt the massive head of his REAL MAN’s COCK press against my lips. It bubbled and drooled thick, pungent, slick bubbles of precum along its path and he pressed harder. My lips opened up and parted and he slid it in.
I was taking my first cock into my mouth. One of my best friends, Master Kent’s REAL MAN’s COCK was breaching lips that had never been breached before. I had always been the Dom before this. It had always been a sub, becoming ‘my’ cocksucker. It was a sub always taking ‘my’ load in his mouth and down his throat. But, here I was. On my knees in front of Master Kent. His ball sweat still coating my face and permeating my senses. My nostrils still flaring and inhaling for more. And I was opening my mouth for his cock. I was sure it would only be the beginning of what I was going to go through tonight.
My mouth opened wider. That huge cock sank in deeper. My tongue began swirling around the bulbous, dripping head even as my brain went white once again. And I sank deeper into the spell of what I now knew for sure was a substance with the street name, ‘Whoremaker’.
And the crowd roared their approval even louder.
END of Chapter 5
To be continued . . .
Author’s Note: Please show your appreciation for this wonderful service and help Nifty continue to exist by sending a donation using the Nifty donations page at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html.
Please send your comments, thoughts, and ideas to Jonathan Longhorn using jonathan_longhorn at yahoo dot com. Please start the “Subject” line with the name of the story so I don’t toss your email as spam.
Thank you to those of you who have taken the time out of your day to write me about my stories. The thoughts, comments, and feedback are VERY much appreciated.
My other stories on Nifty can be found using the Nifty Prolific Authors page: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#jonathanlonghorn
Follow the Nifty Erotic Stories Archive on Twitter: @niftyarchive
Follow Jonathan Longhorn on Twitter: @JonathnLonghorn