By findingmyself1986

In the quiet and darkness of the cell you cannot do anything but focus on the itching of the jlube and the heaviness of the bondage. You struggle to try and find a spot of comfort, but every movement causes the jlube to bite further into the welts. Finally the sweat starts building into the heavy rubber. The sweat mixes with the jlube, and as the burning subsides you start to drift and think how this came to be.

For years you have longed to be an extended-service rubber gimp. When the doms presented you with this plan your dick jumped and started to leak. However it was made clear: agree now or never. When you agreed one of the doms cuffed your hands behind your back, another threw a bag of ice on your dick as you screamed and a third pulled out an intense chastity belt with three locks.

As the ice did its job the belt came together and then your soft dick was threaded through the cage and you heard the clicks of the locks. The fourth dom gathered all the keys, tapping your cage with his boot and told you you’re a lucky gimp. The fifth dom took your pants and put you in a pair of skimpy running shorts for the bus ride home. There was no way to fully hide the belt with the skimpiness of the shorts.

As you drift back to the present, your dick for the millionth time in the last 30 days has filled the cage and is straining against the metal. Yet again your dick has led you into this predicament. The suit that started off cold and itchy has now grown too hot and slick from the sweat and jlube. Every time you try to get traction to reposition you slip and slide adding to the heat and sweat. Finally you find a space to lean your head and slowly you drift away again into the isolation and silence of your prison, the prison you agreed too.

Suddenly there is light, and you see a dom coming to you with a posture collar. As he locks the collar on and helps you to stand, you feel the sweat running down your back. The dom slowly helps you outside where you are led to a tree with two lanterns lit and a thick pad between the lanterns. You are turned around and made to kneel on the pad. You feel the chains from behind the tree locked to the d-rings of your straitjacket. Next comes the funnel gag: the strap is fastened behind your head, and then you feel the gag inflated. Finally the wires from the dildo are fished between your legs and you watch as he plugs them into the electro box before a blindfold is placed over your head and again you are left alone in the warmth of the late April night.

Eventually you hear more voices mingling and you know the guests have started to arrive. Finally you feel the blindfold removed and through the sweat of the lenses you see a large group of men gathered around. You feel the bursting catheter bag being lifted and emptied into a pitcher. As the dom with the pitcher begins to fill 15 champagne glasses another starts passing out 15 bottles of beer.

Then the dom who sealed you into the straitjacket begins to speak: “Men and slaves, we have gathered here to party, to test the slaves here tonight and to enjoy our new urinal. Now each slave has agreed to potentially push one of their limits so let me explain the potentially. Each of you both dom and slave have been given a black chip which you will deposit in the bag now being passed around as a symbol of your consent to tonight’s party; each of us have placed a yellow chip in the bag. Now our gimp here has graciously agreed to serve as our outdoor urinal, but to use the urinal you will need to draw a chip. If a dom draws a yellow chip, six hours is added to the gimp’s sentence. If a slave draws a yellow chip the slave has two choices: trade places with the gimp and yes that means everything seen and unseen or agree to push a limit. Now every time the gimp’s urinal bag is full he will either recycle it, or, for four more hours on his sentence, he can have the urinal bag emptied into its suit. Finally, the dom may punish his slave by making the slave drink the gimp’s catheter bag, but as doing so would be a relief to the gimp this will also add two hours to the gimp’s sentence. Now let the party begin.”

Each dom takes a swig of his beer and the slaves drink the gimps piss; as their glasses clink you see a full bag of chips being hung by the funnel of your gag and feel a buzz in your ass and then you remember the wires on the dildo.

The party begins and all you can do is look forward at the figures through the sweat of your lenses. All the doms are drinking beer served by their slaves as their slaves drink water. Occasionally you see a slave taking to a bench for paddling or fucking, occasionally one is on his knees sucking a dom off, but all the slaves are in comfortable shorts as all you can do is sit there with your straining cock and watch.

With the beer flowing it doesn’t take long before the first dom steps up to use the gimp. As the dom’s feet stop in front of you, you feel the buzz in your ass increasing. The dom draws a chip, holds it up for you to see. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, it’s a yellow chip! Why must the first chip add to your sentence? The dom puts the chip in his pocket, chuckles, then grabs the funnel and you feel his hot piss in your throat with no choice but to swallow. The longer he stands there the higher the electricity flows. You are near screaming when he finally hangs the funnel back up and steps away.

Of course this was just the start of many more men and slaves piss to come. One of your doms comes up and holds your full catheter bag and tells you, “tap your foot once against my boot to swallow or twice for down your suit.” You tap your foot once (you’re already at 30 hours and cannot add any more time). The dom empties the full bag of piss and then reaches in and draws a yellow chip; you try screaming no behind your gag, but it just comes out garbles.

The dom just laughs as he holds up the funnel, before pissing you hear the sound and see the hock of spit come out of his mouth as he spits down the funnel before washing the spit down with his piss. As your screams are now from the electro he leans down and whispers, “party’s only been going for a couple hours gimp, you’ve got a long night ahead.”

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Note from the author: This is my first published story; please send comments to findingmyself1986@aol.com or findingmyself1986 on Recon.