From Easy Street to a Hard Road

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If you have not read the previous portions of the "Easy Street" and "From Easy Street to a Hard Road series, you may wish to do so.

Donna was dressed to kill. She wore a skin tight, black leather dress that left very little to the imagination. You know the kind. Her full, supple breasts were trying desperately to burst out of the top, which rose to just barely above her incredible aereola. If she had any pubic hair, you could have seen it clearly even when she was standing, for she wore no panties. I had waited impatiently on the bed while she applied her make-up and fixed her hair. Finally were her shoes. Donna and I are approximately the same height. Normally. With the four-inch heels she wore, she towered over me. It was very disconcerting to say the least. Just looking at her made me want her even more. My cock strained against its cage and precum dripped almost unchecked from the head.

I was somewhat less thrilled with my attire. My CB-3000 was of course firmly in place. I have to admit that Donna did show some compassion in her choices. No Lycra and I wasn't wearing panties. Wasn't wearing any underwear at all, actually. Over my imprisoned cock I wore very tight, light blue denim shorts that were so short that my ass cheeks nearly showed. Donna had a gleam in her eye as I pulled them on, "Oh, my. They really accentuate that beautiful ass of yours!" She has always raved about my "bubble" butt. I used to think that she was only pumping up my ego until several other women told me the same thing.

The shorts had snaps on the sides so that they could be removed quickly, and I suspected, without my assistance. Beneath the loose shirt I wore was a belt that fit around my waist and had fasteners for restraints on each side. My "ensemble" was completed with some plain men's sandals, presumably to accentuate Donna's new dominance in height.

Without telling me where we were going, Donna gave me directions while I drove. She drove me to distraction by placing her high heel clad feet on the dash, exposing her long, luscious legs and most of her sex to me and anyone else that chose to look, then masturbating herself slowly as I drove. Every once and awhile she would let out a low moan and the scent from her juicy cunt was constantly assaulting my senses, trapped in the confines of the car as it was. More than one truck driver on the expressway nearly "lost his load" when he looked down and saw my beautiful wife.

Finally we arrived at what appeared to be a nondescript warehouse. I was directed to honk twice, and after a few moments the sliding doors opened slowly for us to drive inside. It was a very large warehouse, and I was surprised to see several vehicles parked inside, from dually pickups to Mercedes, Lincolns, and then a Chevy or two. After I had parked the car in an open space, Donna looked at me and smiled, "You said that you were open to anything, are you ready for this?"

I paused; because I really had no idea what "this" was, other than there would obviously be a lot of other people involved. But I couldn't back out now, I had to find out, "I don't know if I'm ready, but I am willing ma'am."

"Good answer, lover boy," Donna dug her fingers into her sopping pussy, then slowly smeared her musky juices over my face, concentrating under my nose. If I could have gotten hard, I would've cum. As it was I had figured out why the shorts were of a light colored denim. A spreading wet spot from the precum I had been issuing was more than obvious.

Donna directed me to the trunk of the car. Once I had opened it she reached in and took out a full set of leather cuffs that she placed on my wrists and ankles. She secured the wrists cuffs to my waist belt, but left the ankle cuffs unsecured. I tried not to imagine how they might find use during the evening. She removed my shirt, exposing my binding, but left my shorts in place. I was thankful for that, and also embarrassed, as everyone would see my condition from the wet spot.

About fifty feet from where we parked was a doorway, and I could see that a huge man with bulging muscles monitored it. Donna removed an envelope from her purse, placed it in my mouth, then secured her purse in the trunk of the car. She then took my arm and led me towards the doorway. It's a good thing she supported me with her arm, as my legs felt as if they would collapse beneath me the entire time. Halfway there she stopped momentarily and whispered in my ear, "Before we go in, I want to thank you for doing this for me." I started to speak by she shushed me, "I know you want this too. I wouldn't ask it of you if you didn't. I just want you to know that I know it's just our fantasy. No matter what happens, or what I might say to you as we play, you will always be my man." She snuggled against me for a moment, "I love you baby." I tried to answer as best I could with an envelope stuck in my mouth, and "I love you too" was understood if not said in the English language. Donna giggled and led me on.

When we made it to the door, the Sasquatch standing there asked for our invitation. Donna pushed me forward and he pulled the envelope from my mouth, removing a card from inside. He read from the card, looking to Donna for confirmation that the information printed upon it was correct,

"Top: Mistress Donna"?

Donna answered, "Yes"

"Bottom: Sub Bryan"?

"Yes"

"Classification: Anything goes"?

My eyes darted to Donna, not knowing what that meant, or what limits were set in the first place. She looked at me momentarily, hesitated, the replied, "Yes."

The big man looked at us warily for a moment, as if he doubted us. He addressed Donna, "You are aware, Mistress, that full consent is needed by all, dominant or not, before entry?" He regarded me, looking at my stained shorts and bound wrists, then continued, "Are you certain that Daisy Duke here is on board?"

Donna answered by looking to me, and the Hulk did likewise, waiting. I had no idea what "anything goes," meant, but I knew that I trusted Donna, and that she knew my fantasies and me. I choked on the words as they came out, and I was looking down at their feet as I said them, "Yes, sir. Anything my Mistress allows of me, I consent to freely."

With that the doorman turned to a board that was mounted near the door. It looked like a board valet service would use. However hanging from the hooks were leather chokers, and attached to them were stones of different colors. Above them on the board was written "only with partner", "upon request", and "anything goes". The stones for anything goes were green, go figure. He gently placed a green clad choker on my Mistress, then handed her one to place on me as he explained, "We have to use neck ware, as anything pinned to clothing won't be worn for long, now will it?"

With that, he opened the door for us and, addressing us both this time, said, "Have a great evening."

Donna and I stood and took in our surroundings in amazement. She grasped my hand tightly for support. Which, although I certainly understood and could relate to, seemed somewhat silly as she towered over me in her high heels. I squeezed back.

The room we were in was vast. Doorways led to other rooms across a dance floor to our left. To our right, separated by a long half wall nicely decorated with various plants across its top, was a posh dining area. Both spaces seemed crowded with people talking, laughing, and�well.

Seems pretty tame so far, huh? It took us a few moments to take in the rest of it. The walls were adorned with tasteful paintings, and posters from the early days of Hollywood. They were also adorned with nude women and men in shackles, mostly spread eagle at different angles. Upon closer inspection I could tell that the victims of this bondage had foot rests upon which to rest, and their bindings were the soft leather style which I wore. Some of them were mounted on wheels so that they could be spun to a position their tormentors desired.

The wait staff, male and female, wore skimpy but tasteful clothing. They moved about, serving food and drink, some of them walking about the dance floor carrying trays with various beverages upon them. We would later find out that the wait staff was actually members of the club, and that all members took turns in this duty. There are enough members that your turn only comes around about twice a year.

We were brought out of our reverie by a friend of Donna's, that walked up quickly, "Donna! I'm so glad you two decided to come! If you like what you see tonight, I sure you'll be given memberships. I've already put in a good word with the board!" With that Becky gave Donna a hug, her long auburn tresses enveloping them. Becky looked like an Irish Goddess, and I had secretly wanted her for the longest time. After their embrace she glanced at me, then back at Donna, "May I?"

Donna laughed, "Why certainly!"

I stood wondering what the joke was, and soon found out that it was I, sort of. Becky stepped over to me and took me in her arms, then leaned forward and kissed me passionately. I was taken aback at first, then my arousal and my trust took over. I kissed her back. I wanted so much to intertwine my fingers in that beautiful hair of hers as we kissed, but I was still restrained. The kiss went on for what seemed like forever, and I loved every bit of it, our tongues dancing with each other, I tenderly bit her lower lip then massaged her lips with mine. My cage squeezed my tormented cock like a vise as it tried to grow, and I could feel the precum running down my leg now as it seeped from me. Finally Becky released me, taking a moment to catch her breath. As I caught mine, I willed her to kiss me again, but she didn't. Instead she held me for a moment as she addressed Donna, "Damn girl, you weren't kidding. This boy can kiss! I'll have to put that tongue to the test later!"

Becky let me go and asked Donna if she was ready for a tour. Donna said she was more than ready. Becky took us over to the dining area and explained about taking turns, and that the food was actually catered in from some of the finest restaurants in town and then served by the club members, since nobody that wasn't a member or a candidate was allowed inside.

She briefly showed us the "kitchen" and then led us over to the far wall of the dance floor, the one adorned with people. She moved near a young woman that was closest to us, restrained with her legs spread and slightly out from the wall. "You will only find subs on this wall. If they are here, it means that we may use them anyway we please. They are placed here either as punishment, or just at their master's whim." Becky took me by the hair and placed me between the girl's legs, pushing my mouth to her sex. Not needing instruction I worked my tongue through the soft down of her pubic hair and darted it across her clit. She began to moan in thanks for the attention. I could hear Becky as she continued her narration; "If you'll look next to of each them you will see a placard. Their dominant has written on the card whether they can be whipped or not, but most importantly, whether or not they are allowed to cum."

The young girl was aroused when we had gotten to her. And I was certainly enjoying my attentions to her. She had begun to thrust her hips into my face as much as she could, and had gone from a satisfied moan to crying out softly, "Oh, God, Oh God, yes, ungh, unghh, yeesss�."

I heard Becky's voice over the girl's passions, "See Donna? Right here at the top of the card? This one can't cum." With that Becky unceremoniously grabbed my hair and pulled me away from the girl, who cried out in frustration, "Oh, no! No. Please, please, please, I'm so fucking close!"

Becky patted her tenderly on her right hip, "Sorry dear. You know the rules. Good luck with that." Then she led us away. I really felt sorry for the girl. Only a few feet from her was another girl, bound a little lower on the wall with her buttocks lying on a small padded shelf. Apparently her card indicated that she was allowed to cum. The first girl looked on in anguish as the second screamed out in ecstasy while a well-toned man slammed his hard cock into her repeatedly. I could definitely empathize with the first girl. She wanted to be the one slammed, and I wanted to be the slammer!

Becky led us to through the crowd on the dance floor. Some of the people were dancing slowly, some people were just talking in small groups, and one couple danced away as the woman ground herself upon his cock, which she had mounted, her legs wrapped around his hips. I almost tripped over someone that was kneeling on the floor, then realized that there were several men and women kneeling on the floor. One of the kneeling women was gently suckling the penis of a large black man, who was holding her head in place while he engaged some other members in conversation. He carried on a conversation as if he wasn't getting a loving blowjob from a lovely young lady.

Becky stopped momentarily, turning to Donna; "You don't want to ruin the surprises for him in the rest of the club do you?" She had a mischievous smile and when Donna grew one too, I knew I was in trouble. Donna agreed that they should finish the tour by themselves. Becky looked around until she spotted one of the wait staff, "Oh, Tommy! Do you have a pair of cuffs we could use?" Tommy walked over to us and removed a pair of handcuffs from his belt, handing it wordlessly to Becky. She then knelt in front of me and regarded my manhood. I waited nervously as she lifted my balls, then pulled the "A" ring of my cage forward a little bit. She took one half of the handcuff and placed it around my cock behind my balls and behind the "A" ring, then snapped it shut. Now the other half of the cuffs dangled between my legs, the cold steel touching my thighs. She stood, looked about until she found what she was looking for and led me to it. I looked down and saw a large eyebolt fastened to the floor. Without explanation Becky ordered me to kneel. When my knees had touched the floor, she stepped around behind me, and then asked Donna if she would like to do the honors? Donna knelt behind me, and reaching between my buttocks, fastened the other end of the handcuffs to the eye bolt beneath me. My heart raced. I was securely fastened to the floor in a room full of strangers, my wrists fastened, my throbbing cock imprisoned.

"There. Now he won't get into any mischief while we finish the tour." Becky patted me on the head, and then Donna leaned down and kissed me, telling me that she loved me. With that they both casually walked off, as if they had forgotten all about me. I watched forlornly as they entered one of the other rooms, then disappeared out of sight, leaving me all "alone". My heart pounded, and I didn't know if I was more aroused or scared at my predicament.

It seemed as if none of the people around me were aware of my presence. Then I realized that they simply were unconcerned with my presence. I was a sub. A slave. Someone for utility, not for conversation. Then I laughed to myself. I was watching the people moving around me and it hit me. Perhaps it was simply that it would be somewhat awkward to try to hold a casual conversation with a man that was forced to stare at your crotch as you spoke!

I was there for a few minutes when a group of people that were discussing their work and the events of the day moved over by me. Again, they appeared to not even notice me as they stood around me talking quite literally "over my head". I was listening to their conversation while looking at one woman's incredibly well shaped ass to my right; another woman's sex was directly in front of me. I could smell her musk as I made out that her pubes were completely shaved, while the pubic hair above it was shaved into the shape of a heart. To my left was a man talking away about politics as his huge, flaccid cock hung nearly on my shoulder. I wanted to close my eyes, but I was too fascinated by this surreal environment to do so.

I only thought that was awkward. I soon found out that I had been completely wrong about the level of their discomfort. Suddenly the man with the cock hanging on my shoulder looked down at me and addressed me nonchalantly, "Hi. I'm Jeff. You're new here aren't you?" Looking up past his huge cock at his face above me, I spoke timidly, "Uh, yes sir. My name is Bryan. I'm a sub." They all looked each at other with knowing amusement as I realized what a stupid comment that was; "We kinda figured that out, Bryan. Don't feel bad, you will feel at home here in no time." He introduced the lady with the heart as Stephanie, and the other lady turned her beautiful ass away from me to be introduced as Fran. From behind me I heard another male introduce himself as Dave.

Just as Jeff was getting ready to make me feel even more silly by asking my opinion on the political issues they were discussing, I heard a woman's voice approaching, saying, "Oh, here's one that isn't being used dear. Excuse me, do y'all mind if I use this one for a minute?" My new acquaintances said sure and moved away a few feet. I wondered what was going on, as the woman, who wasn't fantastic, but wasn't someone I'd kick out of bed, moved around in front of me. Without comment she leaned me back slightly and stepped forward, covering my mouth with her very hairy cunt. She began to gyrate herself against me and I soon discovered my purpose. Globs of semen, mingled with her juices, began to flow from her recesses into my mouth. Without much choice I began to swallow, then wanting to make the best of the situation, I began to make love to her tender box with my mouth and tongue. Muffled between her ample thighs I heard her talking to her mate, who apparently was standing behind me, "Don't let me forget dear, we have to go over to mom's tomorrow for that birthday party. What do you think we should get her? Oh, my, this one seems to really enjoy his work; we might be here a little bit. Ummmhhh. Yeah. That's right. So do you have to work early on Monday, honey? Oh, yeah, that's right. You do? Oh, well. We shouldn't have to stay late at mom's house." She grew quiet now, as her passion took over. With my hands restrained, I couldn't balance myself. She had begun to grind her pussy against my face, which pushed me further and further down the more she tried to do so. She reached down and grabbed my hair, pulling my face deeper into her crotch. I was thankful for the assistance. She moaned and mewed her pleasure as she got closer and closer to orgasm, and her knees started to buckle. Her husband stepped forward and embraced her in support. Now both of them straddled my head as I danced my tongue on her sopping, swollen clit. I could feel his thighs against my shoulders and his cock against the back of my head, and I could hear them kissing while she cried through her orgasm. I soon discovered that she, like Donna, was an ejaculator. Her hot juices shot into my mouth and I savored them as I moaned in thanks.

After she had recovered, still in his arms, she pulled back slightly and he stepped back. She then bathed my face with her sopping, hairy cunt until my entire face was wet. I closed my eyes until she was finished. When I realized that she was done wiping herself on me, I opened my eyes only to discover that they were gone, having disappeared into the crowd without so much as a word to me.

My arms were a little sore by this point, but I didn't care. Mr. Happy was straining maddeningly against his merciless prison, and I could feel the precum dripping onto my legs below it. It may seem strange to anyone who hasn't been locked up for an extended time, but I loved it. Not just my usual perversion about forced chastity, but because the constant pressure against the cage was at least a sensation. The uncontrollable, unattainable need to become erect may be torture, but I think the time I spend flaccid, with no sensations at all, are even harder to bear.