By boyinacage

Part 1 – The Audition

Summer in Sydney is supposed to be hot. Hot weather. Hot beaches. Hot bodies. Hot sex. None of it was looking true though. At the start of December it looked like all my usual tricks were going to be away, the weather forecast was crap, and to top it off I was being forced to take vacation for the three working days between Christmas and New Year – Ten whole days with nothing to do and nobody to play with. I was going to be bored – or even worse have to cruise the bars. Come to that I was already bored. So bored I started just scrolling through the profiles on Recon looking for something, or someone, to spice it up a bit with.

Recon cruising is tricky. You run a search, look at the bye-line and look at the profile shot. If either is catchy you may even open the profile. The ones with great text have crap shots and the ones with great shots have crap text – go figure.

Anyway, I had done a search for Sydney. Keywords, bondage, piss, rubber. Age 30 – 60. 80 – 100% top. Too many results. Fine tune, Interests – Rubber, bondage, Masters and Slaves. Thirty profiles. The middle one caught my interest.

Bye-line: 2 x Fit German Tops + More

Picture: Guy spread-eagled standing up, completely covered in rubber

I opened it up.

“Two German tops and their alpha boy living within walking distance to the city, own house, own dungeon. We have two friends visiting between Christmas and New Year from Berlin. Both tops. Need a complete rubber bondage slut slave to spend the entire week in rubber bondage, completely at the disposal of our friends. You don’t have to be a gym rat but a well kept body would be preferable. You will have a PA and two pierced nipples. You will need to be experienced and will need to be prepared for public humiliation, piss drinking, mild pain and chastity.”

It sounded just the thing for me. So, I sent off a note. Should spice up an otherwise dull Christmas – if it was real.

“Sirs, I humbly present myself to be at the disposal of your friends between Christmas Eve and the third of January. I’m 5’8”, all required piercings correct. Limits and interests in profile with photos from some sessions for your consideration.”

The following evening a note came back from the profile.

“boy, you will need to present yourself for an audition, before we consider you. My Masters’ friends do not want to be disappointed. Audition at HQ on Wednesday at 11pm. If interested please request details in the appropriate way. alpha.

I was now intrigued, HQ was a local sex club. An audition? What happened to a beer or a coffee and a quiet chat? It would still give me a chance to size them up. A week was a long time to spend in bondage with a couple of weirdoes. Getting into the spirit of the thing I responded:

“Sir, please allow me to trouble you for an audition at HQ, please let me grovel at your feet and beg for my instructions”

“boy, present yourself to the barman at HQ at 11pm – exactly. He knows us well. He will recognise you because you will be wearing the white cycling outfit from your third profile photo and the boots you’re wearing in your main profile shot. You will not have anything else with you – the only exception my Masters will accept are wallet and keys, which you can check in with the barman – that means no jumpers, jeans or bags! He will give you a rubber hood, a length of chain, two open padlocks and a pair of handcuffs. You will proceed to the lowest level – at the furthest end of that level you will find two posts on either side of a disused toilet. On one post will be two eyelets. Thread the handcuffs through the lower one and padlock one end of the chain to the other. Kneel facing away from the pole, put the hood on, do up the collar on it and padlock it shut to the other end of the chain. Then handcuff your hands behind you – this will not be difficult because the handcuffs will be suspended on the pole”

“boy, if you fail to do any of this, you will not have met any of the requirements that my Masters said they wanted – here we will be testing, bondage, blindfold and humiliation. You will be in a safe environment, but you won’t be able to leave until I say so. If the audition goes well you could end up in a worse predicament in a public space and we have to be sure you’ll be able to cope.”

“do not respond to these instructions. If you don’t show up my Masters will know you don’t have the balls needed to serve their two friends. If you don’t follow the instructions exactly, you will be punished accordingly and won’t be given the opportunity to serve. alpha.”

It was Monday. Shit. I’d landed myself in it. I didn’t know whether I could go through this. It was one thing to fantasise about it (and I had tossed off twice just reading it) and another to actually do it. Sure there was nothing sinister here and nothing hard to do, but was I willing to do this to myself? That night I couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning as a weighed the excitement with the reality. All day at work on the Monday I couldn’t focus.

When I got home I pulled out the cycling suit. It was made of very thin white rubber with a yellow stripe down the sides. It was very tight, in the picture you could see the nipple rings clearly. You could also see clearly through the material that I was cut and wearing a PA. If I got a hard on wearing it in the street there would be no hiding it – and I had to turn up wearing it – his rules were I couldn’t bring any other clothing. Worse, it went a sort of transparent when the rubber got wet, so I’d have to avoid getting wet.

All day Wednesday at work I was in two minds. Here was the opportunity I’d always been looking for. I could knock it back and never know. I could do it and land myself in all sorts of trouble. At home, I put on the cycling suit. I immediately went stiff – I could see every contour of my cock and knew immediately that I was going to do it. As I bent over to lace my 30 hole boots I was in pain as the restrictiveness of the suit almost bent my stiff cock unnaturally.

Did I attract attention in the 20 minute walk to HQ? You bet I did. Some people stared, and I swear one girl in her late 20s actually started dribbling in the street, not able to take her eyes of the package. Her husband drooling with jealousy. Actually, it became quite embarrassing and the more embarrassed I became the harder I went. It was a relief to arrive at the club – dead on 11:00 as instructed. After paying my ten bucks cover charge I entered the club with nothing other than my front door key and the clothes I was wearing.

Approaching the bar the barman grinned as he handed over the things listed. With my heart pounding I almost pissed myself with nervousness just as the barman wished me luck. He should have shut up at that stage but obviously couldn’t help himself, telling me that I was the third to be tested with the previous two failing – “had to release them myself, not before I had a little of my own fun first” he laughed. He then passed me a large bottle of warm 7-up and told me I had to drink it all before going downstairs and that if I went for a piss before following the instructions that he would enjoy some time with me after my failure.

Downing the soft drink I considered my options, obviously there was still time to back out, but now I had committed in front of a real person. The humiliation of failure in front of the attractive barman sealed the deal and I went down the three levels. Several people went for the grope as I proceeded to the back of the club’s lowest floor and I indicated, as best you can under these situations, that I wasn’t up for play.

Kneeling at the post I followed the instructions, threading the handcuffs and padlocking the chain – which was a miserly eight inches long. This meant that when I positioned my self my legs were going to have to straddle the pole backwards. Positioning myself I tested that I’d be able to handcuff myself and then set about donning the hood. I was expecting that it’d be just a rubber hood with a collar. The reality was somewhat different. It had a large built in gag and extra padding around the eyes – no eye holes. Where I was expecting nose holes there were two thin tubes that curled around the side of the hood with a supporting clip at the back.

The way the hood itself was designed meant that I had to slip most of the gag in my mouth first, position the tubes in my nostrils and then slowly push the rest of the gag into place. Once done the zipper pulled down over a rubber strip. I then had to do the collar up and once done I tried to tighten the whole thing by tightening the laces through a series of eyelets. It was all very complicated and it took me some time to get it done, but once done I straightened my back enough so that the short chain would reach the D-ring and locked it into place. I then, after much fumbling, locked the handcuffs behind me to my wrists.

There wasn’t much wriggle room. I was well and truly locked in place. I could feel my tits pushing against the taut rubber, just as firmly as my engorged cock was trapped between my stomach and the rubber. After the first couple of minutes where I had concentrated on getting as comfortable as possible my mind turned to the stupidity of what I had done. Here I was exposed and helpless against unseen potential assailants – unable to see or complain. Another ten or so minutes and I started to wonder how to escape. The anticipation, and the knots of excitement, began to waver. Half an hour later I found my self trying to twist out of the cuffs. I was pretty much over it and couldn’t believe I had done this to my self.

Just as the despondency of the situation began to get at me, pain shot through my balls. Somebody had kicked me in the nuts, not hard, but hard enough to make me see blue. A hand swatted me over the left nipple and then the right nipple. I tried to cry out but the only noise that I could make through the gag was a kind of oompf. The boot started rubbing against my cock, both exhilarating and painful at the same time. The bloody thing then just went absolutely rigid, betraying the fact that I was, in some weird way, turned on by all this.

An accented voice whispered in my ear that it wasn’t for me to enjoy but for him to enjoy. I could feel a dribble of sweat run down the centre of my spine as I reeled from the shock of the boot in my groin again. Two hands started feeling over my entire rubber encased body in a way that was more sensual then I could recall having felt before. A hand slipped into the rubber suit and pulled my right nipple ring – another hand did the same to my left. I heard a voice grunt its pleasure at the rings. The hands withdrew and with a sharp painful snap, the rubber landed in place against my erect nipples.

The rubber suit was pulled out where it dipped above my sternum and I felt a hot rush of piss run down the inside of the suit, pooling around my balls before running out the bottoms of my shorts. A waft of scent from the piss through the nose tubes was followed quickly by the strength of amyl – which immediately sent my head into a spin. As my head spun I could feel my cock being rubbed. I could feel my self moving towards orgasm when another kick in the balls brought it all to a halt.

Slowly the owner of the voice unlocked the left handcuff and I felt it being passed through the eyelet in the back of the post. The wrist was re-cuffed free of the pole. Next the chain was detached from the pole as well and I sunk low onto my knees. I felt a jerk on the chain and started to try to stand but as soon as I did this a foot was placed into the small of my back pushing me onto my stomach. The chain jerked up again and I tried to stand again, only to be pushed back a second time. It dawned on me that I wasn’t supposed to stand on my feet; rather I was to do so from my knees. When I tried this I was rewarded with a jerk forward.

How far I ended up walking on my knees I don’t know. Eventually we came to a halt. Two hand held me under the armpits and lifted me. Nervous that I was going to be pushed down again I acquiesced. I felt the chain being connected to something above me, again tight enough to stop me moving about. It became obvious that this was so my hands could be uncuffed. I didn’t try to struggle as I was still wearing the gag hood. So I stood there with my arms dangling, useless, by my side.

In a sudden movement I felt the rubber cycling suit pulled down to my knees. In shock I just stood there only to feel my arms being raised simultaneously and cuffed to something. The suit was then pulled down over my boots and I was naked. My legs were then attached to something – I now assumed I look liked a star fish with my arms pulled out at 90 degrees. I also felt like I was beginning to choke as my head was lowered by the spreading of my legs. Relief quickly followed as the chain was released from above.

Now I felt hands running over my body. First my sides, then my front, and then my back. They lingered over my butt, rubbing it in semi-circular motions. The hand moved to my arsehole and I felt a finger being gently inserted. New hands started rubbing my chest as a second finger slowly moved into my arse – were there two people? A waft of poppers through the nose tube and they were in. The next few minutes are a little hazy; I suspect the amyl bottle was in some way attached to the nose tube because all my breathing was now picking up the scent the whole time.

I luxuriated in a sense of horniness. The hands on my chest and nipples, the slow insertion of a cock in my arse. I felt a rhythm begin behind me as a mouth enveloped my own cock – there were two pwople! A few more minutes and I could feel my body tense in preparation for orgasm, but the withdrawal of the mouth and a sudden drenching of cold water put a stop to that just as I could hear orgasm being reached behind me. A moment later I felt the used condom being placed on my shoulder – a disgusting feeling made worse as the cum oozed out of it and onto my chest. A voice insinuated into my ear “you didn’t think we’d let you cum, did you” followed by a mirthless laugh.

In my shock I felt my nipple rings being unscrewed and gently twisted out only to be replaced by a similar sized but heavier ring. Titanium I heard whispered. This was followed by the careful removal of my PA. I then felt a metal cock ring being threaded over my balls and cock followed by a tube being inserted over the shaft of my cock. I felt the chastity device lock into place. I then felt the PA returned to place although the weight was a surprise. Not as surprising as the pressure soon to be placed on my nipples as my cock was forced upwards.

A chuckle could be heard and then a low voice said to me – we’ll see you for Christmas. And then, nothing. And then hands, cocks and whatever else. It would appear that being in open place like HQ, naked, and spread-eagled into position I was available for all. After what seemed like many hours of torment I felt the padlock on the hood being removed. The hood was unlaced, unzipped and removed. It was the least I could say thank you but it proved almost impossible after the hours my mouth had gripped the gag.

Staring into my face was the barmen. He offered to let me down, but only if I wanted. I wanted. Then the cost – he would if I consented to him fucking me first. Of course I did, unlike the many in the hours before him, he did ask. Once down I tried to find my cycling suit, but it had vanished. I asked to borrow something to wear, the barman said of course if I didn’t mind reciprocating with a blow job. It can’t get more humiliating then having to provide sexual favours for something to wear. When I couldn’t get him to cum he led me to the back door and told me to lick his boots and beg for something to wear.

Eventually I left holding my door key, wearing nothing more than an old towel that was so short I needed to hold it with one hand. Even worse, I discovered that the pressure on my nipples was due to a chain linked my nipple rings – which turned out to now be padlocks – to my PA, now also a padlock, large enough to prevent me drawing my cock into the open ended metal chastity device. I was well and truly fucked – I wasn’t going to be able to wear any of my tight clothes to work whilst this situation persisted.

 

To be continued …

 

You can find the author, boyinacage, on Recon.