The Contest

By Mister-X/Spartan

I was checking out some profiles on internet sites I frequented when I noticed the article. There was an upcoming event in my city, and this time there was a call for subs to be selected and paired up with doms. I was a sub, and considered myself to be attractive to other guys. I thought about whether I wanted to participate in such an arrangement. I didn’t respond, but the seed was planted. I thought about it the rest of the day, which I spent at work.

That night, I had made my decision, and responded that I’d like to participate. I received a form to fill out. There were several requirements, including proof that I was HIV negative and providing a copy of some form of identification that showed my picture and proof of age. I provided the necessary information. A response came that I would be one of the participants, and gave information about where I was to report. The event was still a couple of months away, and I waited. Soon it had slipped my mind as the normal activity of life took over, but I had made a note on my calendar.

When the date finally arrived, I was ready. I showed up early just in case there would be problems with traffic. Even as early as I was, there were others who had also arrived. We got to talking, and I found that I compared favorably with the others. Some were anxious, while others were pretty blasé about the event, having experienced similar in the past. In my case, it was my first, which I told others, and got some advice from them.

I was told that we would be paired up with a dom to compete in an event. Ahead of time we would fill out a form listing our preferences and experiences, and the doms would be shown these forms so they could pick the sub they wanted to compete with. None of the doms would be allowed to pair up with a sub that they’ve been with before.

I was also told that the experience would mostly depend on the dom. Each had their own way of dealing with subs. Some of them would be loving in order to get the cooperation of the sub, and some of them would try to instill fear in the sub to get them to cooperate. The subs would have no say in which kind of dom they would be paired up with. I thought about which kind of dom I would prefer. I actually wanted to be dominated, not looking for a loving relationship, so I was hoping to get one of those who would try to instill fear in me.

Finally we were let in to a room, roll was called, and we were lined up. After the introduction and summary, which pretty much went over what the others had told me, we were told to strip naked. This was one of the items that was mentioned in the description on the internet, so I was prepared. Our clothes were put into a bag with our identification. Then we were told to put our hands behind our backs, and Darby cuffs were screwed onto them. Each was treated the same way. We were told that these would remain on for the duration of the event. All other restraints would be at the discretion of the dom.

We were kept standing in this room until the event was to start. It was boring. I wondered whether we would be partially judged on how well we dealt with this wait. Finally we were called, and marched out to the stage. I noticed a series of guys standing on a different level of the stage. They looked like they were the doms who we would be paired up with. I tried figuring from appearance which one I’d like to be paired with. There was also a fairly good sized audience in attendance. Some of them appeared to be there to check out us subs, and others were checking out the doms.

The guy who had addressed us stepped up to a microphone, and the usual audience buzz started dying down. There was an initial explanation for those who didn’t know what was going on, and then the important part started. Each of the doms were told to bring their collars out of the bag of gear they were holding to prepare to put on their sub. I took a look at those, and noticed quite a variety of collars.

Then each of the doms was asked for their philosophy of dealing with a sub. There was a variety of philosophies, just as I’d been told that there would be. Based on those explanations I tried to figure out which dom I would prefer to have. The one I picked was the one who wanted to treat his sub the roughest. As I thought about being treated by that guy my cock started getting erect. I also noticed that his collar was made of leather, was higher than the others, and was a double one.

After each dom had finished speaking, the announcer said that they had drawn names out of a hat for the order they would go in, that several doms had picked the same sub, so the ones that went later had to pick an alternate. The first dom was named, and he came up to the microphone to select his sub. To my surprise, the first dom was the guy who wanted to treat his sub the roughest, and the sub he picked was me!

This guy had said that he liked to establish his dominance from the beginning by yanking his collar on as tight as he could get it. When he came up to me I started getting a thrill at the thought of that. One of the requirements was that us subs were to remain standing at attention while the dom applied whatever he wished to apply in the way of restraints. The dom put his bag of gear down on the floor and brought his collar up to my neck. He yanked it as tight as he could and buckled the inner part. I gasped when that was done, and started choking. Then he took the outer part and yanked that as tight as he could as well, making the collar even higher and tighter. I suddenly realized that wishing to be treated rough and being treated rough can be two different things. I started getting light-headed, and started developing a headache. I was starting to regret getting what I’d wished for.

The dom wasn’t finished yet. He went over to the side and returned with an ice cube. He put that next to my now erect cock, and I gasped at the pain from that. Soon my cock had subsided, and he put a tight metal chastity device on my cock and balls, locking it, pocketing the key. He then reached into his bag of gear and brought out a massive rubber ball gag. Even with my mouth opened as wide as I could get it, he had difficulty fitting the ball into my mouth, and pulled the straps back to buckle them closed, again applying a lock. Then he got a roll of duct tape and yanked each loop around my head as tight as he could. When he’d finished, only the lock was visible, and there was no way I’d get any air through my mouth. I had to do all my breathing, which was restricted by the collar, through my nostrils. This was getting to be difficult.

The dom wasn’t finished yet. He brought out a pair of nipple clamps, not the most restrictive, but also not the easiest ones, and clamped those on my nipples. Those hurt, and I let out a little yell when they were clamped on, though hardly any sound emerged. Next he got a butt plug, a pretty good sized one, and had me bend over. I was required to comply to any request from the dom, and I complied. It took some time to work that thing up my ass, and when my sphincter muscle had closed on it, my cock told me that the plug was touching my prostate. When I was told to stand erect again, it was quite noticeable.

Some ankle shackles were locked on. These were quite heavy and tight. They had a short chain between. I realized that I was going to have difficulty walking, and could well develop a blister or two. And with all that gear on I was having difficulty just standing there quietly. I was getting excited, even though my cock was in chastity. I so wanted to erupt.

The dom brought out another chain and locked it to the back of my collar, where there was a ring on the outer part. The collar itself was made of stiff leather and cut into my neck both at the top and at the bottom. I realized that there were going to be marks left from that which would take a few days to heal. The collar was also curved inward at the middle, so that it fit my neck perfectly, pushing in all the way, especially at the Adam’s apple.

The announcer had walked back to be next to the dom, and when he was finished applying the gear, he was given the opportunity to explain each. At the end, he pulled out a prod that he said he would push into my back as he pulled back the chain for when he would walk me. I opened my eyes wide at the thought of that, since there was a sharp point at the end of the prod, something he made sure to state. Again, at the thought of that, my cock was desperately trying to get erect.

The announcer responded by saying that it looked like I was going to be having a rough time at this event, and the dom responded by saying that this was his intent, that on my form I expressed a desire to have that done. The announcer then came up to me and asked me if this was what I was hoping to get, and I vigorously nodded my head up and down as best I could, something that elicited laughter and some applause from the audience, and started me choking more.

The next dom was named, and he came up to start his program on his sub. My dom stayed by my side all during the introductions of the others, which took quite a long time, about an hour. It wasn’t easy standing there at attention through all that, what with all the gear I had on. A couple of times I started slumping forward, something my dom would notice and correct by sticking that prod in my back and pulling back on the chain. That got my attention quickly, and I stopped my slumping.

Finally the pairings were finished. I noticed that the last few were not good matches. In that respect, I was lucky that my dom’s name was the first one pulled out of the hat. I had noticed that, as I’d been told, various doms had various philosophies which they carried out on their subs. I wondered which would work best. I figured that each one could if the right pairing was made. In that respect, I thought my dom and I were perfectly matched. I was looking forward to the event.

We were first to be marched around the outside walkway, one that went around the audience. Being the first one chosen, we were the first to go. With that short chain on, I couldn’t go very fast. Others also had ankle shackles on, some with chains as short as mine, so I figured that my slowness wouldn’t be a problem. However, my dom would stick that prod in my back and pull the chain back. I soon realized that he was using that as a directional signal, that straight back meant straight ahead, and pulled to the left meant to start turning right, and vice versa. I was thinking that this was pretty clever, making functional use of a bondage device.

My breathing had pretty much adjusted in the long time it took to introduce the other pairs. Starting the march around the walkway, combined with the pull back with the chain, started causing me difficulty breathing again. When we were stopped back at our original positions I was pretty winded, and needed some time to get my breathing adjusted.

We were next forced down onto our lower legs on the floor. My sub took the chain that was attached to the back of my collar and wrapped it around my ankle shackles, bringing it up through the Darby cuffs on my wrists. He adjusted this to have me resting on my knees and be in a straight up and down position. This was the first time I’d noticed the judges. They hadn’t been introduced, and I realized that for a contest, there would have to be judges. They came by to check out how erect my posture was. My dom seemed satisfied, so I guess I was properly erect. At least I didn’t get prodded again.

Again, though, I was required to hold this position for a long time while the judges checked each of us. And again, when I would start to slump, even slightly, I felt that prod. My dom seemed to do this discreetly, hoping the judges wouldn’t notice. Holding that chain taut I didn’t have much chance to slump, though. I think my dom sensed that we had a chance to finish first in the contest, and he wanted that.

When this was finished, the next item was breath control. This was mentioned on the sheet I first got, so it didn’t come as a surprise. I’m an athlete, having been on the swim team and track team in college, so I have pretty good wind, being able to hold my breath for longer than most guys can. I’d mentioned this on the form, and I figured this was one of the reasons my dom selected me. Besides, breath control is one of my turn-ons. So I was prepared for this.

This contest consisted of having a plastic bag put over my head, kept closed by a thick rubber band, while we were still resting on our knees on the stage. Each had the bag put over our heads with the rubber band ready to be placed, only to be dropped closed at the given command. The judges would check to make sure that there would be no openings on any, and had to make a few adjustments, before the command was given. Then we waited to see who would last the longest.

I could hear several guys making sounds to have their bags removed while I continued not needing it done. I knew this was something I had a good chance of winning. Finally after a little over two minutes, I made the sound to have mine removed. When it finally was, I heard applause from the audience. That made me think that I’d survived the longest.

We were pulled back onto our feet again, ready for the next contest. This consisted of our doms paddling us to get our skin red, both on the stomach and the back. I had a tan from my outdoor exercising, and I wondered how that would compare with several of the subs who had fair skin. I hoped that the judges were experienced enough to be able to differentiate that. I’ve been paddled before, so it wasn’t anything I hadn’t experienced already. It’s not one of my turn-ons, but at least I could tolerate it.

At the command, my dom started paddling me. I have to say, he didn’t hold back. He whacked me good. I figured this was something he was good at. I was supposed to remain erect when he did that, but I couldn’t, not with the force he hit me with. I was hearing others who were not hit as hard, which allowed them to remain erect, but who wouldn’t get as red as I would be getting. I wondered which would count for more.

Finally the command was given to stop. Each of the doms stood by their subs for the judges to check. I noticed that the judges also checked the paddles. I figured that there were regulations for which were allowed and which weren’t. I heard one of the paddles from one of the other pairs being ruled illegal, so I figured that pair was disqualified for this contest. No winners were given at the end of each of the contests, so I didn’t know how well we did.

The next contest was the cock-sucking. We were told to expect this on the form. We were to be judged by technique and results, including how clean the cock would emerge from the mouth. Each of the doms were to have a condom covering the end to pick up the amount. This required an open mouth, which meant unwrapping the duct tape and removing the ball gag. Since my dom had completely covered mine, we were the last to get ready. When my dom unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, I was in shock at its size. I understood why he had the huge ball gag, since my mouth was now stretched wide enough for his cock to fit in.

I’d sucked cock before, so I was experienced at this. We were back on our knees again for this. I knew to lick the tip initially to get my dom turned on. And I licked his cock when he stuck it in. He knew how to get himself excited, including pulling the chain up to get my head higher. This caused me to again have further difficulty breathing, but it was all part of the sacrifice to try to win the contest. It didn’t take him long to erupt, which was a positive in the evaluation. And he took his time removing his cock so I could clean it as thoroughly as I could. Apparently some of the doms were unable to erupt, which counted against them. My dom had no difficulty erupting. And he sure seemed to produce a good quantity, judging by how long he took. But again, I didn’t know how well we compared with others. Afterwards, the ball gag was back and a fresh round of duct tape was yanked tightly around my mouth. I was by now used to it.

The next contest consisted of cock training. Our chastity devices were removed, and we were to be stimulated, but were not to erupt until told to by our doms. I’d never been able to control my cock, so I figured this one I would do worst at. My dom ordered me to look at him when this was being done, that he would give me orders. I have to say that he was very imposing. He told me that I would be severely punished if I erupted without his permission. He yanked on the chain when he said that. This was part of the fear factor that he used. It worked up to a point. I finally erupted without his permission, but I had lasted a lot longer than most of the other pairs. We didn’t win that one, but we didn’t lose it, either. But I wondered how I would be punished for my erupting without his permission. He made his disapproval obvious.

That was the end of the contests. The chastity devices were locked back onto our cocks. We were brought back up to our feet to stand. My dom pulled me up by the chain attached to the back of my collar. In addition, he held it up high. I realized that this was his way of punishing me. I was back to having difficulty breathing again. We were marched around the walkway again while the judges were evaluating the results. Again, my dom held the chain up high and back noticeably, and pushed the prod hard into my back. He made it clear that he wasn’t pleased with my self-control.

When we were back standing in our positions again, my dom continued pulling the chain up high. He wasn’t about to ease up on me. He was obviously not pleased with me. When the results were announced, we had won most of the individual contests and were declared the overall winner, despite my poor showing in the last contest. My dom was then asked to give a speech.

He said that he was pleased that we had won the overall contest, but that he was disappointed in my lack of self-control of my cock, that he was going to have to continue punishing me for the duration of the event, in which we were to be introduced at every function. His speech elicited a few boos from the audience, but he didn’t care. He had his standards, and I had failed one primary one. I understood that. It was part of the reason I wanted to be paired with him. I knew I needed work in that area.

We all adjourned for lunch. My dom kept me restrained as he’d done for the contest. When we were introduced, I was brought out, my cock still in chastity, the prod in my back with the chain held up high and back as I was marched out, the shackles still on my ankles. When my dom was asked to speak, he said that I had obviously done well in most of the contests, but that I still needed some self-control work to meet his requirements of a sub. That’s when I started thinking about whether I wanted a permanent relationship with this dom.

We attended other contests during that event, during all of which I was kept in that strictly erect position. Periodically people would come by and take our picture. If I should ever slump, my dom would either prod me or yank the chain up higher to get me erect again. It was a challenge to always stay erect.

The event lasted three days. At night, my dom took me to his home, which was in the city in which the event was being held. At his home, he took me to his dungeon. He locked the chain at the back of my collar to an overhead chain and pushed the hoist button to raise me up. He kept it up until I was on the floor only supported by my toes. I was yelling into my gag. He then removed the ankle shackles, and brought my feet together, screwing on some Darby cuffs which had internal spikes. He also wrapped some chains around my legs above the knee which had internal spikes. And finally he removed my chastity and put my cock into a sheath which was lined with internal spikes. He told me that I would be free to erupt, but that it would be extremely painful if I did, that I needed to practice not erupting until he gave me permission to do so.

That was an extremely difficult night for me to get through. I did erupt once when I was half-conscious in the middle of the night, after awaking from an erotic dream, and I paid the price for it. He was right when he said that it would be extremely painful. He came in the next morning, saw that I’d erupted, and was again very displeased with me. We attended all the contests of the event the next day, and I was still punished the entire day. My dom would introduce me by saying that he needed me to improve my self-control, and that he’d placed my cock in a sheath that had internal spikes in order to discourage me from erupting without his permission. Most of the attendees felt sympathy for me. I realized that I needed the training to improve my self-control, so I didn’t object to the treatment.

That night was a repeat of the previous. This time I got some sleep, and I didn’t erupt, even though I almost did when I awoke from another erotic dream. My dom seemed satisfied the next morning. Despite this, I was still punished during the day of attending each of the other contests. Finally at the end of the event, all of us contest winners were introduced. My dom was given polite applause, but the strongest applause was given to me. Everyone there seemed to know what I had been enduring.

My duct tape and gag were finally removed, and I was given a chance to speak. When I did so, I thanked my dom for giving me the treatment I needed to try to improve the self-control of my cock. I then finished by saying that I hoped that he would be willing to take me in as a full-time person to continue his training and rough treatment of me, since it was what I’d always wanted. I was surprised at my dom’s reaction. He came over to me and hugged me. The speech and my dom’s reaction got a loud round of applause.

Afterwards, I was back to being punished, just as I’d been before, no change. My dom and I both knew that it was what I wanted and needed. From the event we went to my apartment to clean everything out and move it to his place. He made the decisions of what I was to keep and what was to be thrown away, or donated. I knew I had no say in my home life from now on. He was the one to run it. He took a look at the clothes I wore to my white collar job, and said that they needed to be changed, that my shirts should always be choking me, and my clothes should always be as tight as possible, pushing into my body. I suddenly realized that my lifestyle would be changed at work as well as at home.

I’m now kept restrained when not at work, always physically challenged when at home. My dom figures out ways to instill fear in me whenever he wants to, since he’s found out what I fear. He found that I’m afraid of the dark, so I’m always kept in a blindfold at home. He’s found that I have a fear of knives, so he periodically cuts me in places that won’t bleed much or show when I’m at work, always coming as a surprise. He uses these to make sure that I always do what he wants me to do, whether I want to or not. I’ve learned to always accept what he wants.

It’s a difficult life I now have. I’m beaten every morning and evening. I’m kept secured in a thick leather sleep sack in a wooden box at night, all straps pulled tight. My cock is always now in chastity. I haven’t erupted in such a long time that I’ve forgotten when I last did. When my master wants something done I must respond immediately, whether it’s to lick his boots to shine them, or to take his cock in either my mouth or my ass. I’ve progressed at work to the level of manager, choking from those high, hard, tight collars that make me look like a managerial type, but at home I’m punished constantly, treated as worse than nothing. When I get home my master is there waiting to put me in severe restraints to punish me.

As a manager, there are times when I need to attend work-related events. My master realizes this and allows for them, as long as I’m kept restrained in those tight work clothes. Occasionally there is a party in which we are to bring the people we live with, and I bring my master. He doesn’t disappoint me with his presence and appearance, not indicating what our life is like at home, other than to say that it’s his house and that he is in charge at home. The relationship changes on the way back home when at a secluded spot I’m changed to being bound and gagged in a sack in the trunk of the car. If we get home late, my master keeps me there overnight. Once he locked a chain around my neck above my shirt collar and pulled it back taut to lock around my ankles, kept overnight in the trunk of the car, mouth tightly gagged. My master is always looking for new ways to punish me.

I also give Christmas parties for my employees. At these and the work-related events I’m always dressed in my suit with shirt and tie. Once my boss told me that I should dress casually once in a while, but I told him that I was taught to always dress nicely when out in public, always presenting a good image. I also have taken to wearing a diaper to hide the chastity device. Once a colleague noticed that, and I told him that I lacked self-control for my penis. He understood it differently than I meant it, which is what I intended. Another colleague inquired about my sex life, and I told him that I was impotent. With that chastity on all the time, after all, it’s true. It appears that this explanation got spread around, and accepted as a reasonable one to explain why I live with another man. No one knows what that relationship is like. I doubt that I’d remain in management if it was found out.

It’s the life I want, constantly challenged at home, constantly punished. My master is always getting new torture devices to try on me. Tonight I’m to be stretched out in a rack that just arrived, spikes everywhere, adjustable chain to go around my neck and be pulled up taut, choking me, gagged, of course, kept in for the holiday weekend, hot wax periodically dripped onto my nipples, then ripped off after hardened.

I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I have that contest I entered to thank for this.

The end.

Thanks to Mister-X/Spartan for this story!

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2 thoughts on “The Contest”

  1. An elegant discussion of what pain, the anticipation, the enjoyment of it, the necessity for it perfectly described. No one reading this could not want to be one or the other, being an observer makes one merely a voyeur unless you can identify with one man or the other.

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