Six SlavesSubmitted by: Johnny CumlatelyThe six of us meet from time to time to have a quiet drink and a chat and remember the event that changed our lives about 20 years ago. ................................................ As a late teenager, I started to play at self-bondage. I would think up all sorts of ways of tying myself into situations from which escape would be difficult, but always ultimately possible after I had masturbated. Once or twice, I nearly overdid it and gave myself nasty frights. Fortunately, no harm was done. To reduce the temptation to masturbate, I chose to wear a chastity belt and bought a Tollyboy from which escape would be virtually impossible without the key. I wore it regularly but held the key myself, although I usually kept it in places which were difficult to access. As time went on I started thinking about sharing my thoughts with others who would tie me up so that I could not escape without their help and I also wanted a keyholder. I eventually summoned up the courage to join a BDSM club which used to meet once a month in the basement of an old Victorian downtown warehouse. The first time I went, I just sat and watched and learned. I was amazed at the variety of equipment and the ways in which members were using it. There were 'x' frames, racks, horses, hoists and much more. The basement must have been around 2,500 square feet and spaced symmetrically in the centre were six huge cast iron pillars supporting the main warehouse floor above. They were all being used as whipping posts. The pillars were about 10 feet tall and 12 inches diameter and at the top of each was a heavy steel plate around 4 feet square to spread the load above. The plates were themselves strengthened by cast iron angle brackets. Victorian engineering at its best! There were around 30 members, mostly male. There were several Dommes whose services were much in demand and some female members who enjoyed subbing. For the first time in my life, I was able to talk freely about my secret self to people who shared similar needs and I found it a very liberating experience. One Domme was Anna. She was about 24 with a body to die for. 36, 23, 36. She was dressed completely in black latex. She wore a body suit covering her from ankles to wrists to neck, which zipped at the back. She had knee length boots with 6 inch heels and latex gloves. Her head was covered with a full head mask. She had piercing green eyes with black eye shadow, so that they seemed to shine luminously through the eye holes. The mouth hole emphasised her bright red lips and an opening at the back allowed her long golden hair to fall in a pony tail. The suit hugged her figure so as to reveal the lovely shape of her breasts and her completely smooth crotch. I could not take my eyes off her. On my next visit, I managed to persuade another member to introduce me to her, and she spent quite a time quizzing me about why I had joined the club and what I hoped to get from it. She admired my Tollyboy belt and explained that she had a team of slaves whose job it was to support the big pillars! I could see that each pillar had a hooded and belted figure chained to it. Anna did the rounds of them with a whip or cane to encourage them in their efforts. I was amazed when she added that one of the team was about to leave the area, and would I like to take his place? "Oh Yes! Please Mistress!" "In that case, give me the key of your belt. I want to be quite sure you will be here next time. And buy a leather hood from the stall in the corner of the room. Tell them I sent you. They will know exactly what you will need." The month went by very slowly. I eagerly anticipated being in bondage to her and was very aware that she already had power over me with the key. I had never before worn the belt for more than a few days and, of course, had always known that I could take it off. Long term wear was frustrating! Soon after arriving at the club, she came over to me. "Are you ready for your ordeal?" "Yes, Mistress." "Strip!" She watched as I removed all my clothes, and then checked that the belt had not been tampered with. "Kneel and kiss!" As I knelt, she pulled my head to her groin. I needed no further instruction to kiss her beautiful latex covered pussy. "Give me the hood!" She put it over my head and tightened the lacing down to the neck. I heard a click as she put in the small padlock. The hood had no eye openings, but soft pads which ensured that my eyes stayed closed. There was a small breathing hole into which a piece of gauze was sewn. The blackness was total. I was led over to one of the pillars and felt a chain attached to the D rings on my belt so that it was pulled tightly against the cold pillar. Another chain was attached to my ankles around the pillar and she pulled my arms so that I was hugging it. My wrists were locked together with hand cuffs. My hands had limited movement and she placed them so that I could feel the shape of her breasts through the latex. "Don't run away! I'll be back!" I had never been completely at the mercy of another person, but was so intoxicated by her that I was happy to be in her power and not afraid. I found that I was standing quite comfortably but with virtually no possible movement. Seeing nothing, I could hear noises around the room, including the occasional swish of a cane. I felt the cold iron pillar against the steel of my chastity belt. Without warning, a swish was followed immediately by a stinging pain on my buttocks. Nothing was said and I received about ten more strokes before I sensed that she had moved away. I made it a point of honour not to cry out. I lost sense of time but guessed that she returned at about ten minute intervals with a variety of punishments - sometimes with a whip, sometimes a paddle and sometimes a cane. In between, I just had to imagine what other slaves were enduring and remember her black figure with all its delightful curves and smooth front. At last (I later found it was nearly two hours) she released my bonds. Gave my back and buttocks a rub with some delightfully soothing balm, and led me back to my seat. Before removing the hood, I once again kissed her latex clad pussy. "Thank you, Mistress, Thank you!". She took off the padlock but left me to unlace the hood. By the time I could see again, she had vanished. This became the routine at subsequent meetings. It was on my fifth visit that it happened. I was hooded and chained to the pillar as usual and was enjoying once again the experience of being totally disabled. I was conscious as usual of the contact between the metal of my belt and the metal of the pillar when I became aware of a slight tremor which was transmitted to my enclosed penis. It was exciting. Two more tremors and my penis was trying hard to get erect in its tube. Then the whole building shook violently. Even as I realised that there must be an earthquake, I actually climaxed in spite of the constraint of the belt, due to the vibration and the awesome knowledge that whatever happened, I had no means of escape. There was a deafening rumble as the building collapsed around me. Lumps of masonry landed by my feet and there was thick dust from which the gauze in the hood fortunately gave me some protection. The tremors finally ceased and the noise was followed by complete unearthly silence. Blind and firmly chained to the pillar as I was, there was nothing I could do but wait. I did not seem to have been injured at all. The silence persisted for several minutes. There were no sounds of human movement and I wondered what had happened to all the other people who were at the meeting. Finally, I heard sirens in the distance but it must have been several hours before help arrived. A fireman told me afterwards that the quake had meant that local streets were impassable to rescue vehicles. His first sight of the old warehouse was just piles of rubble from which six pillars stood proud with ghostly white statues as if made of stone. He had been very surprised to discover that the six statues were humans who had all survived the collapse of the building and even more surprised to find that they were all hooded and chained. He had to use cutting gear to free us but had not attempted to remove my chastity belt for fear of inflicting injury. We were taken to hospital and cleaned up but were all discharged after being given some clothing. Sadly, no one else in the building had survived. The six of us had been protected by the pillars and their steel plates. One mystery remains. No trace of Anna was ever found. She was presumed dead and maybe still haunts us. And she still holds the key to my chastity belt which I have never been able to remove. And I have never since indulged in any bondage.
Fiction by Johnny Cumlately
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