24 Hours

As I entered the lobby of the Social Club, I tried to stop the shaking that I knew everyone else could see. Even though I had made the arrangements weeks ago, and knew this was what I wanted, I almost turned around and walked out. This was crazy! And yet, I knew this was something I had to do. Taking a deep breath, I walked to the front desk.

"Yes, sir, we have your room reserved. Here's your packet." With that, the man at the front desk handed me a large manila envelope. I took it and sat down in a chair facing a wall, trying to hide the erection that was already starting to appear. Inside the envelope was a letter. I held it steady in both hands as I read:

"As you have requested, we have prepared your fantasy. For the next 24 hours, you will be a completely submissive sexual slave. During this time, you will remain naked and blindfolded. You will never see or hear those who use you, nor will you speak to them, unless it is to speak your safeword, which is 'Camelot'. If you speak it, the fantasy will end immediately. Below is a list of agreed-upon limits. By signing this paper and returning it to the desk clerk, you will begin your experience. From the moment you return this to the clerk, you will be the slave of this Club. You will not speak again until the 24 hours is up. Enjoy your fantasy."

Seeing the words in print somehow calmed me. This was, after all, what I had wanted and sought out: complete domination by a group of men for a 24 hour period. They would remain completely anonymous; there would be no hint of emotional attachment. I would be their slave, they would use me and torment me for their pleasure. I had told the Club director in great detail the types of things I would like to have happen. Nevertheless, I knew that, once I signed this paper, they would do to me as they wished. My hand was surprisingly calm as I signed the paper.

I stood up, surreptitiously adjusting my pants to try to conceal my erection, and walked back to the front desk. I gave the clerk my consent form and waited. Instinctively, I kept my gaze on the desk. He laid a key with a room number on it and pointed toward the elevator. I picked up the key and made my way to the elevator. My adventure had begun.

As I strode through the lobby, I noticed that all I could see were men, some in suits, some in swim suits, some in athletic gear. Well, of course! I told myself. What did you expect to find in a gay social club, a bunch of women? As I entered the elevator, I reflected on that. I am certainly not gay, and my bi-curiosity has been exclusively centered around bondage and domination. For a second, I panicked. What am I doing here? What have I gotten myself into? Wait...you've gotten yourself into exactly what you want. Remember why you insisted on being blindfolded the entire time? You want this to be anonymous; you want the men to be nameless, faceless, simply sexual masters who will treat you, not as a lover or even a man, but simply as a toy to be used for their own pleasure.

I wasn't sure what to expect when I opened the door to the room; a dungeon, perhaps. What greeted my eyes was a normal budget hotel room. It was a bit spartan, with a bed, the standard desk and chairs and clothes rack. On the vanity, I saw a bag with a note attached to it. I removed the note and read it.

"You will follow these instructions exactly as they are written: 1.Remove all your clothes and hang them on the rack. DO THIS NOW."

I didn't need the caps to know what to do. I put the note down and began removing my clothes, first making sure the door was locked and chained. When I finished undressing, I wasn't sure what to do with my glasses, so I took them off and placed them on the vanity. The room was cool; the air conditioner was on, and it chilled my naked body. However, I dared not turn it down. I returned to the note:

"2. Open the bag and remove the items inside it."

Within the bag were two unopened boxes containing enemas and what looked like an adjustable sleep mask.

"3. Administer the enemas. Hold each one in as long as you can (a minimum of five minutes) before expelling it. Do not touch your crotch area during this time, nor at any other time during your period of slavery."

My penis twitched when I read that last word. I saw a drop of precum appear, but could do nothing about it, but let it drip slowly down my shaft, teasing me. I opened the first enema and positioned myself on the floor as best I could. I laid on my back and raised my legs, hooking my feet under the vanity to raise my buttocks in the air. There was a brief moment of discomfort as the tip of the bottle entered me, but it was soon in me. As I squeezed the bottle and forced the liquid in me, more precum came out and dripped. Some of it landed near my lips. I licked it up, savoring its flavor and knowing that, for the next 24 hours, that fluid would be my only food.

Without my watch, I lost track of the time. There was no clock radio in the room, so I had no choice but to hold the enema in until I started having mild cramps. I then evacuated the liquid and repeated the process. As I passed the vanity mirror, I observed that I was no longer looking up, but staring down at my now-throbbing penis. I was already in slave mode.

"4. Unlock the door and open it. Turn the deadbolt and let the door close. Turn off the lights, except for the light in the bathroom."

Of course, I knew that, with the deadbolt turned, the door would be open. Anyone could walk in on me. Being in the dark would make me doubly vulnerable. As I opened the door, I looked quickly to see who was in the corridor. No one was. I walked back to the vanity in darkness and held the note next to the bathroom to read it. "5. Take a shower. You will find a loofah in the shower stall. Use it to scrub your body thoroughly, paying special attention to your crotch area. Do not touch yourself without the loofah, and do not, under any circumstances, ejaculate. When you have completed your shower, dry yourself, put on the blindfold. Walk into the main room, spread your legs, lock your hands behind your head and wait."

As I stood in the shower, I tried to listen for any activity in the other room. The sound of the water in the small bathroom completely frustrated my efforts. As I scrubbed myself with the loofah, I luxuriated in the roughness against my skin, until I got to my crotch. I quickly found that my sensitive head was cruelly treated by the loofah. That sensation almost sent me over the top; I had to stop and start taking square roots in my head to gain control.

As I dried myself, I found I shivering with much more than the breeze from the air conditioner. I folded the towel carefully and put it on the rod, delaying the moment when I would put on the blindfold and truly become a helpless slave. As I picked it up, I stared at my hands and saw my rings were still on. With a barely suppressed gasp, I took them off and, having nowhere else to put them, placed them in the soap holder in the shower, hoping they would be there when I finished my ordeal. Taking a deep breath, I put on the blindfold and adjusted it so it was snug over my eyes. With more difficulty than I had expected, I made my way into the main room. Was that a rustling of cloth? I couldn't tell if it was the fan from the air conditioner, someone in the room, or my own imagination. The darkness was all I knew. I spread my legs, placed my hands behind my head, and waited...

I nearly jumped when I felt the hands grasp my arms. I know I jerked; it took all my self- control not to cry out. Then, two more hands, tracing my body, squeezing here, pinching there. I stood there, starting to shiver with excitement. I felt detached from the world; my universe had shrunk to my body and the disembodied hands (how many were there?) stroking and exploring me.

At some point, I felt something soft being wrapped around my neck. What have I gotten myself into? Are they going to strangle me? But I heard the unmistakable sound of velcro and realized I had just been collared. At the same time, I felt cuffs being buckled around my wrists and ankles. The smell of leather excited me even more, but not as much as the cold metal that suddenly surrounded the base of my penis. As my scrotum was pulled through an opening, I realized that my neck was not the only thing being collared. The cock harness was tightened until I started to throb. It would be a constant reminder that my penis was no longer mine.

Then, nothing...all hands left me and I was once again alone in the darkness, a collared slave awaiting his fate. My hearing was becoming more acute: I heard a click like a gun shot, followed by the voice of the Club director.

"Listen carefully to the instructions on this tape. They will not be repeated. Any violation of the rules will be dealt with immediately. You are now our collared slave. For the next 24 hours, you are ours to do with as we please. We shall take much pleasure from you. You may enjoy some of the things we do to do, or you may not. It does not matter to us; why should it? You are our slave.

"Rest assured that we treat our slaves well. You will not be physically harmed, nor will your health or safety be endangered. Any marks you receive will be gone within 4 hours of the time you leave our establishment. Remember your safe word, 'Camelot.' Use it only if you are in distress. Once uttered, it cannot be rescinded. Otherwise, we expect to hear no words from you, only the occasional cry of pain or pleasure.

"You are at the complete disposal of anyone who comes across you during this time. As I give you these instructions, you will have an opportunity to demonstrate your understanding of them. Do so immediately. When you feel hands on both shoulders, you will immediately go to your knees."

I felt the gentle pressure of hands on my shoulders and I moved to my knees, somewhat gingerly given the position of my hands and feet. The spread position caused me to go to the floor with my knees spread. I kept my back straight, but bowed my head. After a slight pause, the voice continued.

"When you feel a cock touch your face, you will open your mouth and receive it. Once inserted, you will close your lips around it and wait."

Something warm and round touched my forehead. I raised my head and opened my mouth, which was filled with a penis. I was thankful that it was not too thick or long. I closed my lips on it, filling a drop of precum on my tongue.

"You will do nothing unless you feel a hand on the back of your head. As long as the hand is there, you will caress and worship the cock with your mouth. You may move your head, but you may not let the cock leave your mouth. You will not allow your teeth to cause it any pain. If you do, you will be punished, like this."

Suddenly, sharp pain shot through me as someone twisted my nipples hard. My lips were over my teeth, so when I squeezed my mouth with the pain, it only seemed to bring pleasure to the owner of the cock in my mouth...no, to one of my masters. At that moment, I knew that the cock was as much my master as the person to whom it was attached.

Thankfully, the pinching subsided after a few seconds, replaced by a hand on the back of my head. My tongue explored the full length of the shaft within me, feeling the veins, enjoying the warmth and darting up to lick the drops of salty fluid dripping from the head. My world had shrunk again: nothing existed but my master filling my mouth, giving me the pleasure of serving him. I started a low hum...this was what I wanted...this was my fantasty...this was...

Gone. My mouth was suddenly empty and the voice returned.

"You will be given many nonverbal cues for your behavior. We expect you to understand and respond appropriately. Enjoy your stay with us. We shall certainly enjoy you."

Another click, then silence. A moment to absorb it all, then a hand on my arm, lifting me up. I stood and felt another hand on my back, guiding me forward. I walked until my arm was squeezed. My hands were brought together behind my back. I heard a softer click as the wrist cuffs were locked together. Then, a hand on the back of my neck pushed my head down until I encountered a familiar shape. I opened my mouth and took it, trying to figure out if it was the same one I had previously savored. I waited, not moving, my face nestled in the hair of a master's crotch, my legs spread and my buttocks sticking up invitingly.

A light smack on my buttocks, and I involuntarily went on tiptoe. I quickly returned to the flats of my feet, but not soon enough. That was evident by the next smack, a strong blow that brought tears to my eyes and pushed my head further into my master's lap. I struggled not to gag as his cock slid further into my mouth. Mercifully, that was my only punishment. The spanking continued, but more lightly. I could feel my cheeks beginning to grow warm. I wondered if the lights were on and my master could see how red they were becoming.

After several minutes of this, a moment of relief. I could taste the saltiness of my master's precum, but was doing my best not to move my head, allowing myself only an occasional soft movement of my tongue on his shaft when I swallowed. In the distance, I could heard the snap of a latex glove...

...Followed by a cold, wet feeling on my anus. A gloved finger, coated with lube, was working its way into my anus. I relaxed as best I could to allow it easier access. The digit slid in and out a few times, shortly replaced by something larger at the entrance to my ass. My first thought was that he was taking me, but the intruder felt too cold. As it slid slowly into me, stretching me, I realized it was a dildo...but wait, that sudden collapse of my anus around it meant...not a dildo, but a butt plug.

It filled me nicely, but only for a moment. I felt it being pulled out slowly. I groaned as it stretched me anew on the way out...almost all the way out. A lingering moment, and then it returned inside me, a little bit faster this time. My rectum was being alternately stretched and pulled, warming up as the lubed plug rubbed against me. Once again, it was almost pulled out, only to be pushed back in. Again and again...I was being taken, but with a plug. The narrow base and fat middle was stretching me more effectively and more painfully than any dildo. There was a continual stretching and shrinking that was at once painful and erotic.

I was becoming quite excited by this and welcomed the hand on the back of my head that allowed me to adore and caress the master in my mouth. In the darkness, my anus had becoming a center of pleasure and pain, my mouth worshipping its occupant, drinking in the precious drops of liquid pleasure, my tongue running over the shaft, taking in its shape and textures, waiting for the moment when I knew he would reward me with his essence...

...But that moment did not come. With a final push, the plug was firmly implanted in me, just as my mouth was once again empty and alone. I swallowed a gurgle of anguish as my frustrated mouth lamented its loss. As I was raised, I felt the stickiness on my stomach from the flood of precum I was oozing. My master (it mattered not who; they were all simply my master) dried my cock off roughly with a towel and placed a leather loop around it. He brought it up to where it was just under my head and tightened it. I felt a sharp pull and followed, being led on a leash like the slave I was. It was appropriate that I was being led by my cock to my full ordeal. The tugging on it and the dull throbbing in my ass reminded me that they were no longer mine: they existed only for the pleasure of my masters.

I was led out of the room and down the hall. A hand on my elbow kept me going in the right direction; the occasional tug on the leash kept me moving at the right speed. A door opened to my right and I was turned into that room. The hand on my elbow squeezed, and I stopped walking. I felt a shoe tapping on my ankle, and I spread my legs. As my hands were freed, I heard two clicks below and realized my ankle cuffs had been secured. My arms were raised and, with two more clicks, secured so that I was in a standing spread eagle. My master removed the leash and ran a finger up the shaft of my cock, squeezing out even more precum, which he fed me. I licked on his fingers greedily, savoring the taste of my own fluids and sighing contentedly, until he removed his fingers...

...and I felt the sting across my buttocks from what I recognized as a flogger. I jumped as much as I could, considering my restraints. The stroke was not hard, just unexpected. More followed, starting softly and slowly building in intensity. Without thinking, I started to count them to myself. I was disappointed when they stopped at ten. My disappointment changed when I felt a hand pulling on my scrotum, followed by a stinging sensation that remained. My master was putting clips of some kind on my scrotum. One, two, three...ten, and then, nothing. I frowned for a second: why so few?

And was answered by the flogger, which delivered another ten strokes to my buttocks, this time a little harder. Again the hand on my scrotum and another 10 clips. Ten more strokes, and I started to breathe heavily. This time, the hand grabbed my penis and I sucked in my breath as the next ten went on my shaft. As the flogger struck again, this time moving down to my inner thighs, I gasped with each stroke. My crotch was starting to catch fire with the sensations. The next ten clips started with five on my perineum, then five on the head of my cock. I groaned aloud with the pain and groaned even more when the flogger connected with my thighs and buttocks. This time, the strength of the stroke caused me to rock forward. I let out a cry as the clips began swaying, pulling on the sensitive skin to which they were connected.

Following that set of lashes, I felt hands caressing, then squeezing, my nipples. Cold metal pressed against them and was followed by an intense, sharp pain as nipple clamps were tightened on me. I could feel a chain joining them, dangling against my chest as another 10 lashes were delivered. I felt my shoulders pull as I started to sag down, beginning to enter that special haze I identified as subspace. I stood there for a few moments, swaying and feeling the pain connecting my nipples with my crotch. Each movement brought a new pain, sharp and intense. The coolness of the air conditioning was a marked contrast to the heat emanating from my backside.

My arms suddenly fell to my side. A pair of hands grabbed my shoulders to keep them steady as my ankles were also freed from their restraints, but not from the cuffs. I was led forward. Each step was painful; I had to walk with my legs spread because of the clips. Each step caused them to move, bringing about more pain. My shins felt the edge of a bed and I stopped. Once again, a hand on the back of my neck bent me over. My crotch was being forced onto the bed. The additional weight of my body pushed the clips even more cruelly into my crotch. I would have cried out, but my lips brushed against a waiting master, who must have been sitting on the bed. I opened my mouth, took him inside and waited. Instinctively, I drew my lips over my teeth to protect him.

Behind me, a master took my buttocks in both hands and began to move them back and forth. Had I not been gagged by my master's cock, I would have screamed as the clips started to slip off me due to the motion. After a few seconds of excruciating pain, he lifted my buttocks and swept the loose clips off the bed. Many had fallen off, but many remained. I was breathing quite heavily now and struggling to swallow.

A sudden stretching in my anus followed by a burst of pain let me know that the plug had just been pulled out. The feeling of emptiness was short-lived. I felt something cold begin to enter me. My first thought was that my master was using a dildo on me; however, as the fullness grew, he leaned forward on me and I realized that the coldness was the lube with which he had coated his condom-clad cock. The moment he started penetrating me, I felt a hand on my head and began to lick the head of the master in my mouth. My hands were extended above my head and secured to what I gathered was the bed post. They were spread with a master seated between them, the one I was tasting now.