By JR

From my previous accounts, you will know that my boyfriend and I have developed a serious power play dynamic, which did not occur until a couple of years into our relationship.  I always had a strong desire to be bound and punished, and eventually awakened a dominant side of David that continues to blow my mind.  He keeps me in a steady rotation of chastity devices, overnight bondage scenes, and just plain hot sex.  Occasionally we play with others, but mostly we enjoy finding ways to be creative in our sexual pursuits together.  Our last vacation got creative.

David and I planned a last minute long weekend in New Orleans, a city where I once lived but which is unfamiliar to him.  I thought we would wander the Quarter, check out the bars on St. Ann and Bourbon, and hit some of my old favorite restaurants and sites.  David’s plans were a bit more intense.  I packed for vacation, and he packed like we were going to a Recon convention in Berlin, of course not divulging the contents of his luggage.  After a three-week stint in a heavy metal chastity device, David unlocked me prior to our flight.  (I had once gone through security in this device, fully expecting to set off security and endure an embarrassing search, only to find a much more serious interrogation causing me to miss a flight.)  Seldom over the past two years had I been with David without some device encapsulating my dick, whether metal or plastic, smooth or spiked.  This time I was just in jeans, a t-shirt, jacket and sneakers, while David was his typically preppy self with his well-developed muscles filling out a neat polo shirt and trim khakis.

Once through security David told me it was time to get ready for travel, and handed me his carry-on duffel bag.  Find a private restroom, open it, and follow the instructions, he told me.  He headed to the bar.  Fortunately I found a family restroom, offering more privacy than a stall.  I opened the bag to find an assortment of items.  The instructions directed me first to insert a big silicone butt plug, followed by a harness that had thick rubber straps over my torso, hips, and through my ass connecting to a cock ring.  This would hold the plug in very tightly.  Once on, I had to attach a spiked metal chastity device onto my dick, which was rock hard.  It was an impossible task.  I hate this device, yet being forced to endure it triggers my most sadomasochistic desires, keeping me in a constant rhythm of pain and pleasure, soreness followed by begging to be free, then an obsessive desire to be trapped just to see the devious pleasure David derives from my predicament.  I also knew that once on, it would trap the cock ring built into the harness around my balls, making it impossible to remove the harness.  All this played through my head as I tried straddling the sink and running cool water over my dick, to no avail.  I almost decided to jack off, knowing I would get softer afterwards, but David would be furious if he knew, and from experience that hardly helped anyway.  So, I put the device aside and followed the rest of the instructions.  This involved putting on some seriously tight low rise jeans and a short black t-shirt.  The t-shirt was just short enough that if I bent at all one could see the straps of my harness between the shirt and the top of the jeans, in front leading to the cock ring and in back leading down my ass and holding in that plug.  I tried again to put the chastity device on, but could not make any progress and feared missing our flight.  I packed my other clothes into the bag, put my jacket back on (not sure if that was allowed but desperate to not look like a bondage slut in the airport!), and held the bag in front of me to conceal my erection as I walked out of the bathroom to rejoin David at the gate.  He was almost embarrassed for me, smiling to himself and otherwise ignoring me as we boarded.

Once seated together he asked if everything fit, and I told him that I could not get the chastity device on, pointing down to the outline of my still-erect dick.  His response: you will get that on by the end of this flight.  As soon as we were served beverages he asked for an extra glass of ice, which I had to take to the airplane bathroom and use to coax my dick into the device.  Eventually it worked, but I don’t know which was more visible and embarrassing in my tight jeans, my erection or this device.  Upon sitting down I felt why David wanted me to put it on for the flight so badly.  He had a remote control for the butt plug and started vibrating it randomly.  This made me get hard in the device and wince from the pain of the dozen little spikes pressing into the head and shaft of my frustrated dick.  To make this worse, David handed me his headphones through which he played the audio of one our most intense bondage sessions.  Throughout the flight I could hear my own body getting whipped and paddled, fucked, and struggling.  I would close my eyes and succumb to my horny situation, feel like I was reliving that night, then open them to remember I was on a flight with strangers, resisting the urge to touch David or myself.

We arrived around 9 PM and headed straight to our hotel to check in.  David wanted to waste no time with dinner and touristy daiquiri shops, instead taking me to the Phoenix Bar, which is New Orleans’ combination neighborhood bar downstairs and leather bar upstairs.  David changed into some hot leather jeans and a tight black tank top that showed off his muscles perfectly.  Seeing him ready to go out made me want to stay in and worship his body.  The straining of my dick in its chastity combined with the tight harness holding vibrating plug in my ass for hours turned me into a desperate slave that would do anything for release.  We grabbed a cab and headed out for some fun.  I remained geared up as on the plane, still in a harness and plugged.

The Phoenix is a small bar somewhat off the beaten path for tourists.  The upstairs is like an attic, almost completely dark until the eyes adjust, and full of little nooks.  The first time I visited the Phoenix at 19 I went in rather preppy, cashmere sweater and jeans, and was quickly put in my place.  I visited only a few other times when I was younger, and mostly enjoyed the erotic charge of the space coupled with friendly bartenders.  I had not been back in nearly a decade, and nothing changed, not even the smell.

David and I entered the unassuming bar, checking out the dingy downstairs room.  After a few minutes we made our way up the steep staircase to the second floor, ascending into darkness.  It was early and not yet busy, just a few men chatting with the hot young bartender.  Dressed in a yellow chest harness and matching rubber jockstrap, he was the only spot of color in a very dark space.  And he seemed happy to have more customers.  His first words were “shirts off”, an order David and I both quickly followed before ordering a round of drinks.  As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see that there were a few other guys lingering in the dark corners of the Phoenix, some on their knees.

After about fifteen minutes a few more guys arrived.  David seemed to recognize one guy, and struck up a conversation across the bar while I nursed my drink.  He came back to me carrying a bag, which surprised me.  Why would he take a bag from a stranger?  From the bag he retrieved a rubber hood with just a mouth hole and a thick rubber collar.  Clearly he did some planning ahead.  I knew I was in for a fun night as he pulled the hood over my head, lacing it up tight and then buckling the collar around my neck.  It was a tight fit, taking me from near darkness in the attic of the Phoenix to total darkness and a bit of sound deprivation.  David then ordered me to remove my pants.  I fumbled around to take off my shoes, then peel off my tight jeans, before putting my shoes back on.  I then heard the sound of metal, as he locked a pair of handcuffs on one wrist, bringing it behind my back, and then the other.  I was then standing in the middle of a dark bar in a harness, spiked chastity device, and hood with my ass plugged and my head encapsulated in tight rubber.

David pushed me down on my knees and instructed me to thank the man who provided the gear.  He pushed my neck down to the man’s boots, a not so subtle cue to start licking.  I spent a few minutes lapping away at the leather, as someone started paddling my ass occasionally, driving my plug in deeper and triggering me to lick faster and harder.  Eventually the man pulled me up by my collar to focus on his crotch, where I could feel his large cut cock slap my face.  He rammed that cock in my mouth, holding it there then pulling out and ramming it back in.  He did not want a sensual blow job; he wanted to force himself inside me to prove he was in control.  He held my head tight to his crotch, throat full of his dick, and then I felt the plug vibrating again.  As he held me there, he spoke very calmly.  “Be a good boy, and maybe I will let you take that plug out before locking you away in my dungeon.”  I assured him I would be good by nodding and mumbling yes sir.

After a while longer on the man’s dick, I could feel a crowd forming as the room got warmer.  I was dragged back onto my feet and pushed into a corner somewhere.  I heard the sound of metal and felt my collar pulled tight to the wall where it was attached to a hook.  My feet were spread apart and I felt metal shackles clicking into place on each ankle, then those shackles pulled further apart until my inner thighs were stretched from the spread position.  David was behind me, I could feel him caressing my ass and back, and knew it was him from the touch.  He removed the handcuffs and then pulled my arms up to additional shackles, which must have been hanging from the ceiling.  These two were pulled taught until I was standing spread eagle and exposed, presumably on display for the bar, which was now sounding raucous with chatter and lewd remarks about my body and forthcoming punishment.  I then felt pressure at my mouth as David inserted a large rubber gag, and tightened in behind my head.

I heard the voice of the other man.  “David told me you like to get punished.  I invited a few guys to help you out.  Ten guys, ten strokes each, then we’ll let you down.  Or not. Start counting.”

I felt the sting of a leather strap to start, square on my ass and hard.  The next guy worked my thighs, not so hard, but still stinging.  The third guy whipped my back and ass in quick succession, surely taking more than ten swats.  I felt a wood paddle next, alternating ass cheeks rubbing in circles then swatting hard.  I was dripping sweat, clenched, skin burning.  Occasionally the vibrating plug would start again, catching me off guard.  The fifth guy continued with the leather paddle, hard enough to push me into the wall with each swat.  The sixth guy used a cane, and I started to black out between the lashes to my thighs and ass, then down on my calves.  The seventh guy grabbed my balls, already held tightly from the chastity device, and swatted at them mercilessly as he pulled them back through my legs.  The pain from the spikes brought tears to my eyes.  I was screaming into the gag, probably not loud to hear over the crowd.  I don’t even remember the rest of the punishment, and surely I stopped counting.  I was just a stranger to these guys, anonymous and unworthy of compassion, there to beat with the full permission of my boyfriend.  At some point I think David stopped a guy who was verging on sadistic with the force of the paddle.  I could hear his screaming like a crazy man as he wound up to paddle me, and I just slumped down hanging my wrists after the first blazing impact.

Once through the punishment ordeal, I felt David return and rub some ice down my back and legs.  Cool off for a while, he told me.   He let my arms down, but recuffed them behind me and left my head tethered to the wall.  I just stayed there, an object blending into the background.  Occasionally someone would come play with me, or talk about the punishment I just endured.  David seemed to have disappeared into the small crowd.  He returned perhaps an hour later to let me off of the wall.  We’re going to head back to my friend’s place in bit, he told me.  He handed my jeans to put back on, still with my hands cuffed behind me.  David helped me into the jeans and zipped them up.  “He wants me to take you out back.”  I didn’t think the Phoenix had an outdoor area.  David removed the gag and kissed me deeply, practically raping my throat with his tongue.  He then led me down stairs, a difficult flight on the winding stair with hands cuffed and no vision.

His friend then grabbed me and pushed me to the back of the bar, out a door, and into the yard where I could hear a group of men gathered.  He ordered me down on the ground, positioning me on my back on the concrete.  I again felt something clip to my collar and felt my head secured down.  I arched my back to keep my cuffed hands from digging into my back, tense and still burning from the paddling.  I felt the first stream of warm piss on my chest.  Moments later, another stream on my face.  “Keep your fucking mouth open, boy!”  There were more, a river of piss from at least a dozen guys, some aiming for my face and some soaking my tight jeans.  I am fairly certain a few guys jacked off onto me as well.

Finally David’s friend came over and lifted me up.  “Now you’re ready to walk back to my place.”

Even for New Orleans, the site of a piss soaked man in a rubber hood walking through the street is not a common site.  David, his friend, and I walked at least five blocks through the city to my destination for the rest of the night.  Once led inside I was able to finally undress, remove the spiked chastity device and the plug that had been in my ass since boarding a flight eight hours earlier, and clean off the piss and cum of a bar full of horny men.  I took a long shower, not too hot to torture my wounded ass.  When I finally came out of the shower and into a bedroom in some large old house, I found laid out on the bed my full rubber body suit David had packed from home.  There was an assortment of other fun gear and a small note: pick what you want and get ready.  Laid before me were a variety of hoods, gags, blindfolds, collars, cuffs, plugs, clamps, and some devices for which I could not guess a purpose.  Normally with a selection like this, my horniness gets the better of me and I pick the most difficult and confining gear without thinking how erotic pleasure might turn to excruciating pain in short order.  It was late, and I did not know whether I was up for more torture, would be forced to serve David and his friend, or if I was going to be locked away until morning, or longer.

Already sore and tired, I chose the easy route.  I put on a thick leather collar, some hot looking rubber shorts, and leather wrist and ankle cuffs that still left my limbs free.  I exited the bedroom into a living space to find David and his friend relaxing on a sofa.  David introduced me to Alex, someone he had known for a few years and chatted with about our trip before we arrived.  Alex looked at me and said, “I thought you were into bondage.  Where’s your gear?”  He then marched me back into the bedroom and started selecting what I was to put on.  “If you can’t be a good bondage boy, then I’m going to punish you like a bad bondage boy.”  I saw Alex’s erection growing in his jeans as his scowl turned into a sadistic grin.

“Let’s start with this,” Alex said as he tossed me a device I immediately recognized as the Meo locking butt plug.  David pushed me down to grab my ankles and then held my head between his strong thighs.  Alex quickly lubed up the device, inserted it into my ass where the plug spread out and completely filled me, and then he inserted the key to lock it.  It was kind of an amazing feeling, to be honest, mostly comfortable and cleverly humiliating.  “Now you can put those shorts back on.”  On went the rubber shorts, tightly outlining in my leaking erect dick.  Next came a hood, which looked like the most devious in Alex’s collection.  It was thick rubber with buckles up the back and four straps around the jaw, eyes, neck, and mouth.  The mouth strap held in a huge rubber gag with a breathing hose attached.  He pulled extra tight on each strap, making this hood one with my head.  It took ten minutes to get on, which made my heart race thinking how long it would take to get off in a panic.  I heard just muffles through the hood, with its padding in the ears.  I next felt mitts fitted to my hands, thick rubber with a faint clicking as padlocks secured the buckles.

Alex then guided me out of the bedroom, back into the living room, and then into some other room I had not yet seen.  He pushed me across the room and positioned me down on my hands and knees.  I hear the creaking of a door, followed by a simple order.  “In!”  I crawled forward and felt around me to understand what “in” meant, quickly realizing that I was being forced into a cage.  I crawled through to the back and just waited.  I then felt my head behind pulled further, followed by the sound of more creaking metal.  My hooded and collared neck came to rest on a hard sill, and as I recoiled form the unexpected feeling, I felt the other half of that sill come down on the back of my neck.  I was then inside this cage with my neck sticking through like a gallows.  The cage door slammed shut and that was it.  The last words I heard or the evening were from David.  “We left your hands free so you can try to get yourself off.  Have fun.”

Getting off was no problem.  I rubbed my mitted hands against my rubber covered crotch and exploded within a few minutes.  I tried to relax, even fall asleep, and eventually succeeded only to wake up dazed some time later.  First I was panicked, but then turned on by my situation.  I uncontrollably rubbed and beat at my crotch again to achieve another orgasm.  I then just kneeled in this position for a few hours until morning, when I was released for a day of sightseeing, and a return to the Phoenix for a little bit tamer evening.