Bondage means different things to different people. To some, it just means being tied up, but I always felt that true bondage means a lot more. It can mean total surrender to the situation I find myself in and total embracing of the situation, knowing I can't do anything about it.
When I looked more carefully at the machine that was in front of me, I realized that this was to be a special challenge. It was pretty clear I was going to be positioned on the machine in such a way that I could not resist, could not get loose and could not avoid what was happening at any given moment. The guys standing next to me, my owners that night I guess you would say, sensed my thoughts and they let it sink in. It was like they were saying to me that I had to make a decision right then and there. My first reaction was fear. Did I really understand what I was getting myself into?
I was apparently the only crossdressing slut in the bar, most of the guys there are high, it is around 5 AM, the club is dark except for a strong overhead light on the stage and on the machine. I am dressed in the same outfit I have worn all night, a perfect cum slut outfit, perfectly planned by me earlier in the day. I am worried about my make up so as I walk slowly around the machine I put on more glossy lipstick, and spray some more perfume on my arms. They know I am just stalling and I know it, too. I have to make a decision.
Total surrender is what I decided. I stood up very straight, flipped my huge blonde wig back a little, adjusted my purse over my shoulder, and smiled a huge smile, showing tongue, of course, and nodded my head while at the same time giving the guys waiting for me the finger. There was scattered laughter and applause from the crowd. I was no longer scared or even nervous. I could not wait to get the show started.
First, they had me get onto the machine on all fours. There were two padded pockets for my knees and two padded pockets with a small handle for my hands. The way the machine was made is that when I was put in place there was nothing under me, no bed or platform. I was basically "mounted" on four strong wood columns that had the padded pockets attached on the sides, and the four columns were then embedded in a platform that would rotate or turn depending on how they wanted me to be exposed to the audience. The columns, in turn, were moveable so that I could be stretched out or compressed. My butt could be lifted up high making my head much lower. And the machine could be tilted so that, for example, as I was to find, if a guy wanted me to be in a certain position or at a certain angle, I could be turned, raised, adjusted and positioned for him at any angle he wanted. I was to find out later that the machine could also be rolled or turned over so that I would be on my back.
After inspecting their work, two of the guys told me that they were going to "lube" me for the night at which time I felt something being inserted in my boi pussi. I could feel the fluid enter. It was cool and I was told it had a mild pain medication in it. They were constantly patting me and petting me like an obedient puppy. Some of the guys in the audience had wandered up to the edge of the stage and were watching intently, drinking and smoking and commenting about me like I was property. Which, I guess I was quickly becoming.
The last thing they did was to secure in front of my face a very expensive-looking movie camera, positioning it about two feet in front of my face and locking it in place so that every expression and every sound I made would be picked up. At the same time, I saw my image suddenly appear on several huge screens situated around the club. I was to be the movie star they told me.
Whoever designed the machine is a genius. Every man who used me that night got the exact angle he wanted as well as the exact, perfect position. It was better than any sex I ever had. Some of the guys were frankly too big for me. After all, they were all Black Alpha males, with huge, thick penises. The lube and pain medication helped a lot. I cried out often, I panted and screamed with pleasure/pain. I giggled and laughed and asked for their names and phone numbers. That caused a lot of laughter in the club. I was totally in thrall. I kept saying I wanted them to fuck me hard enough to make me pregnant. I started playing to the camera after about an hour. I would smile, lick my lips, open my eyes wide when the guy entered me and when he came I would just laugh and giggle. It turned the crowd on. They were cheering and clapping and yelling.
Some of the guys were into fisting, which hurt. But I played like it was normal for me. More than once I was turned over on my back, my butt propped up with pillows, and entered like a girl. When that happened the guy would always kiss me, pushing his tongue deep inside my mouth. Sometimes one of his friends would stand to the side and jack off into my mouth just as the other guy came.
At one point I felt something different enter my pussi. It was metal and cold. At the same time, two nipple clamps were attached to my nipples. It dawned on me that this was electro sex gametime. I had read about it but never experienced it. the idea is that the voltage is to be kept low and stimulate the prostrate. Of course I was in a chastity cage, so I could not get an erection, and frankly did not want an erection under any circumstance, I never want to cum. My day is ruined if I cum since I am no longer truly useful to a man. I need to stay fresh, controlled and dominated. But, when the electro device was turned on, I got very excited. It felt wonderful.
Apparently, I started leaking even though I was in chastity. Everyone started laughing. I was dripping through the cage, not cumming with an orgasm, just kind of a lot of mini orgasms caused by the electro jolts. I guess seeing me start to leak turned the electro operator on cause he increased the voltage and it became very painful. I cried out, screamed as loud as I could. I started begging, promising all I owned if he would stop. I humiliated myself, begging and begging and sobbing. Someone made him stop. I was still crying and sobbing and thanking him for stopping. I told him I would do anything he asked just don't start again. The show was over.
They released me. They helped me up and took me to the restroom to clean up, giving me towels and washcloths from the motel. I put on fresh make up, looked in the mirror. Someone entered and gave me a glass of champagne and a small white pill, and complimented me on my performance. The drink and pill helped a lot. I went back into the club.
They were watching the recording of me from the last three hours. Several guys were jacking off while doing it. I strolled around the club, letting guys take my picture. I finally found the guy who operated the electro sex machine. He was very dangerous looking, tats all over, huge Afro, lots of bling and gold chains. He was powerfully built, wearing a tight black leather outfit that showed off his chest and arms. I walked over and stood by him, standing very close. I pulled out a cigarette and he lighted it for me. I told him he hurt me. I told him he scared me. I told him I would like to be his slave for a while.
