Story:Alone in a crowd

Alone in a crowd

Bondage, public

Copyright © 2021 by John "Skip" Reddy, aka “Reddywhp”. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.
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9PM is usually an early arrival for most leather bars, but I had instructions to follow. I dropped off my jacket at Abyss’ coat check. All I had on me now was my ID, coat check tag, and the equipment I was told to bring with me.

I’ve been chatting with Jack online for months, and yet I’ve never seen his face. The idiot, me, doesn’t know why I even started talking to him. That said, he’s managed to get into my head and knows what makes me tick.

Walking in towards the back room, I found the main lights were still on. That made it easier for me to find the place Jack described. It was a bench just inside the back room. Bar staff were tidying up after something, and they were about to kill the lights, so I had to work quickly. A quick inspection told me that Jack knew the place. The bench had rings embedded in the floor, and on the wall at varying heights.

Out of my bag came the shiny black biothane ankle restraints to go over my bleachers and combat boots. They buckled into place and locked on with their small integrated locks. I then locked the rings of the restraints to the anchor rings embedded in the floor. My feet were now fixed about a meter wide apart on the floor.

Continuing, I locked the matching biothane wrist restraints on. They were snug and the shiny black material stood out against my pale skin. Next, I unlocked five sturdy locks and placed them on the bench between my spread legs. The keys to my wrist and ankle restraints as well as the locks I just opened went on a chain around my neck that I neatly tucked under my plain white t-shirt.

I pulled a long length of chain out of my bag which I locked around my waist with one lock, then used another to use the remaining chain to anchor myself to the bench. I was not standing up.

Removing the last few items out of the bag, I tossed the bag under the bench. The disposable ear plugs went in, silencing the room for me. I buckled my open-ring gag in place, then pulled the open-mouth leather hood over my head. I fixed the hood in place with another of the locks between my legs. The hood is not coming off, and the gag is not coming out.

I started getting nervous.

Yes, I was only just now getting nervous. Everything up until now I could undo on my own. I picked up the open locks then reached up above my head. Just within comfortable reach above my head were the chains. I locked my right hand to one of the chains.

“I can stop. I don’t have to follow through with this...” The erection that had been growing in my jeans since I started locking things put lie to that thought as I locked my left hand to the chains.

I was in silence and darkness. Vulnerable.

In the darkness of my hood, minutes felt like hours, and my mind wandered back to a few days earlier and the online chat with Jack…

JackStar: I told you what I wanted to do with you. You said you loved the idea, what’s the hold-up?
EMouse: It’s just I’ve never actually done anything like it before.
JackStar: You go to The Abyss, don’t get a drink before you go to the back room and chain yourself to a bench near the door like I told you. Get there early so nobody knows who you are. You can be a play toy for every guy who comes through there. You never know who they are, and only I know who you are.
EMouse: I don’t know... Will I be safe?
JackStar: I’m friends with Mr. Mort, owner of The Abyss. Nobody screws around with his bar. Nobody. Not rowdy customers. Not meth-heads. Not the police. Not the mob.
EMouse: Maybe... I don’t know, how long will I stay that way?
JackStar: As long as I want you there. No more dithering. If your next message is not “I’ll be there Friday”, and only that, I’m moving on. Make your choice. Now.

... several minutes pass ...

EMouse: I’ll be there Friday

The pounding in my chest started to settle down. And I waited. I had no idea how much time passed.

Someone grabbed my nipple roughly and tweaked it. I grunted at the pain, and then nothing for minutes.

A pair of hands, maybe a different guy, started rubbing my chest. He lightly flicked my nipples through my shirt, before grabbing one firmly. His other hand stroked my hooded head and started probing my mouth. I couldn’t close my mouth, on account of the ring gag, and one, and then two of his fingers were running back along my tongue, tracing their way back into my throat. I felt the man lean his full body into me as he explored my throat, and could tell he was enjoying himself by the hard-on I felt against me through his pants.

He let go of my nipple and continued to probe my mouth with his fingers. His hand shifted, and I felt a foot plant on the bench just outside my spread legs. Removing his hand, I felt another foot heavily on the bench on the other side.

I knew what was coming, but I still wasn’t prepared for the guy’s cock being shoved down my throat. He put one hand behind my head and pulled me onto him. God damn, it was long. It was narrow enough to fit in the ring gag, and had a downward curve, which meant in this position he could throat fuck me without slamming the back of my mouth.

This anonymous man had to be holding onto something above me because that position and the way he was fucking my throat, he was getting some leverage. My cock was fucking hard in, and wished I could see this view, because it had to be epic.

Thankfully, the guy knew what he was doing; he was taking breaks to let me breathe… but just barely.

Meanwhile, someone else decided it was nipple time. Someone must’ve reached between my throat-fucker’s legs and got a good hold of my nipples. One of the great things about shirts and nipple play is that they add extra friction and traction. That’s also one of the worst things. This guy working my nipples had a firm grip and was using my shirt not just to hold on, but to abrade my nipples. They were getting raw really quickly.

Now, don’t think I was sitting there as a sack of potatoes. There’s a reason I had the ring gag. I’m a cock hound and was working with my tongue to try getting off my throat-fucker. When nippleguy started tweaking my nips, though, I started grunting around the cock in my mouth, and wrenching myself around trying to get him to ease up. That earned me a slap on the side of the head from throat-fucker while nipple-guy continued working.

I don’t know if they said anything, the hood and earplugs did a good job of isolating me. In short time, throat-fucker’s motions started getting more aggressive, and nipple-guy started working my nipples harder again - making me groan louder around the cock. That must’ve pushed him over the edge. The cock rammed home for two, no three good spurts, and then he pulled out, as a fourth and fifth spurt of come shot across my mouth and nose holes. I could feel the impacts, and smell the man on me.

I’m guessing they were a pair, because the nipple-guy let go as I felt throat-fucker hop down, and I was left in silence and darkness again. I felt used. All I could notice was the drool now dribbling out of my mouth onto my t-shirt and the smell of the come on my face.

I don’t know how much time passed. People passed by, and there was the occasional groping. The attention was nice. Somewhere along the lines, someone unbuttoned my fly, and pulled out my cock & balls and started sucking. Oh, did that feel good. I almost came… which is saying something about his skill because it’s really hard to get me off with a blowjob. But he stopped early. Either he didn’t want me to come, or he got bored trying to get me off.

My cock sucker left me with my cock out and dripping with his spit.

Soon, another cock sucker came by, and he also left me moaning and drooling, but not coming. I wanted to reach down and finish myself off, and the chains stopped me.

Minutes passed. I don’t know long, honestly. When I felt another hand wrapping itself around by balls, I thought I’d had another cock sucker showing interest. I was wrong.

When my new anonymous playmate grabbed me by the balls, he started to pull me forward. Yes, I was chained to the bench, but I still had some freedom of motion. So as he pulled harder, I scooted forward. I moved forward until my butt was on the edge on the bench, and the chains holding me to the bench were pulled taut.

When I couldn’t move anymore, he started to squeeze. He wasn’t rough. My new playmate rolled my balls around in his hand. I could feel the pressure, and I could feel my hard-on coming back again. Even though this guy couldn’t see my face, he was hitting my nuts just right - pushing the intensity almost to pain, then easing back, making my dick drool almost as much as the ring gag was making my mouth drool.

About the time I noticed that CBT man (as I started thinking of him) was only using one hand, I felt his other hand give my shaft a few light strokes. He wasn’t trying to get me off… I think he was just letting me know that I was rock hard as his ministration. Then I felt his free hand flitting around my balls and fabric brushing past.

A moment later, I realized the fabric was some light cord, and he’d quickly wrapped my nuts nice and tight. They were stretched and squeezed in this position. He let go of my balls with his hands, but I definitely still felt stretched out. He must have wrapped that cord around my sack two dozen times.

He wasn’t done, though. I felt my nuts being tugged down. He… he was tying my nuts to the anchor in the floor below me. I was stretched forward now… and then nothing. He walked away. Or at least, he stopped touching me.

So now position had my legs spread, my arms up and behind my head, my butt just barely on the bench, and my nuts anchored to the floor. When I felt a little spittle land on my cock, I thought it was another cock sucker. Then I realized this position had me drooling on my own cock.

Of course I loved the position. But damn, was it exhausting.

Luckily, I was soon distracted by an athletic face-fucking. It felt like someone lept up onto the bench with their feet landing to either side of me, and in that same motion thrust their cock into my mouth. There was no art to this guy. His cock was thick, barely fitting in the ring gag. He filled my mouth and started pumping. Either he was prepared from prior play, was super-young, or had issues with premature ejaculation, because it took him maybe 30 second to choke me with his come.

I mean, this guy dumped a bucket of come in my mouth, and held my head in place as he did so. Then he proceeded to fuck my face a little more, to make sure that he spread it around.

I was surprised as he stood there after coming, letting himself go soft. I was thinking to myself, “is he planning to go again?” when I felt another liquid start to flow.

With that, he unleashed a torrent of piss into my throat. Swallowing with a gag in is really hard,. With his cock in my mouth, I was able to make a valiant effort of it. Still, I ended up with his piss running down and soaking the front of my t-shirt and running down into my bleachers.

Apparently, this guy broke the proverbial seal. After him, I took three more loads of come on and in my mouth, and swallowed two more guy’s piss. I’m not a fan of piss, though it’s not a hard limit. And kindly, these guys seem to have had a lot of beer, because it wasn’t too strong.

Then for a while, things went quiet. My arms were starting to hurt in this position, and my nuts were really getting sore, stretched out like they were. I started moaning unintelligibly. I didn’t want to ask to be let out, but I was starting to get exhausted.

By “went quiet”, I mean I would still get random gropes and strokes, but nobody was actively using me. And then, mid-moan, I felt someone fondling my balls… when suddenly I felt the tension give. Someone had removed the anchor from the floor. I immediately slid back to give my arms a break and let my ass sit firmly on the bench.

This man’s hands seemed to linger… so I started paying attention. He was wearing what felt like thin leather gloves. He was dexterous as he stroked life back into my cock. And then as he fit one, then two, then three fingers into my mouth past the ring gag. I could taste the leather as he probed my mouth, and filled it near to full.

It was when he had my mouth full with his glove that he pulled. You see, my balls were still wrapped in that cord. And as he pulled, my nuts windmilled around as the wrapping unraveled. After so much time and pressure, it was agony. I screamed into the gloved fingers in my mouth even as I was licking them. If not for the ring gag, I might’ve bit down on them.

When it was over, I was panting, and sagging into my restraints. I was exhausted, and while I do enjoy cock and ball play, the night had worn me down, and I had gone limp.

As I sat there panting and recovering, I felt this guy fiddling with the lock on my right wrist restraint. He even took the chain with the key to my locks off my neck for a minute, and when he was done, that wrist sagged slightly lower. I felt him put the chain back around my neck and gently pat my face through the hood. I assume that was him leaving.

Feeling around with my hands, I felt a round, cold, cylindrical, metal object. Extremely cold. And then I felt a drop of water coming from it… an ice lock. He’d attached my restraint to an ice lock. That meant I was going to be here a while longer, but there was at least release in sight… so to speak.

More minutes passed. The music was still barely audible through the hood and ear plugs and I had not developed x-ray vision while sitting there. So since I couldn’t see or hear, I was completely unprepared for the smacks that suddenly ran across my face. Right to left, and then left to right.

The strikes weren’t dangerously strong, but they were jarring. I could feel the hits send the pooled drool in my mouth flying about. That’s when the train started.

Someone stepped up onto the bench and thrust his uncut cock into my mouth, he was clearly already worked up and he had a short fuse. Within a minute, two at the most, he was unloading into my mouth and onto my hooded face.

That’s when the next guy stepped up and started fucking my face. He was long, and thick, and with every thrust he smacked my head back into the wall behind me - which made me glad for the padding of the leather hood. While my mouth was being used, another guy decided to use my nipples.

My moaning around the cock in my mouth increased with the nipple play, and then even more so, when a supremely talented mouth got on my cock again, while playing with my balls. Don’t get me wrong, they were sore, but I do love my nuts being played with.

The sensory overload was too much. Bound, my mouth being used, my nipples and balls being worked over while a mouth like an accujack worked my cock. My orgasm built quickly, and I was gagging and screaming around the cock in my own mouth as I started to shoot. I could feel my pent up load emptying in one… two… five shots down that guy’s throat, and he just kept sucking.

I think my thrashing and screaming must have set off the guy fucking my face, because in a moment, he pulled my head hard onto his cock, and he started to unload down my throat. He held me there longer than really necessary, which started me thrashing again… I needed air.

I panted as he stepped away… and the guy working my nipples stepped up. Somehow he managed to hold onto my nipples while getting into position to fuck my face… but now I wasn’t horny. I’d shot my load. But this guy didn’t care. Nor did the guy hoovering my softening dick.

Before the ice in that lock finally melted enough for me to get my hand free, I had another load milked out of my cock, this time with lube and a firm grip, and at least three more loads dumped in my mouth or on my hooded face. I honestly lost count.

Once my hand came free, my playmates scattered. In my exhausted and drained state, it took me a long time to take off the hood, and undo the various locks. I’ll admit I might’ve started to do it in the wrong order. Hunting for the locks when I should’ve taken the hood off. That’s how tired I was.

It was dark, and I was used, and a mess. As I stumbled to the coat check to grab my jacket, I thought to myself, “I don’t think I’ll ever do *that* again.”

In my jacket was my cell phone. I had received some messages while I was gone.

JackStar: Good boy. Looks like you enjoyed yourself. Here, enjoy these pics.

I looked over the grainy cell-phone pics of the debauchery… of course no faces were visible. The only body that I could identify was my own… and in my head I amended, “...well… at least not for a week or two.”