Plaything. Just thinking of the word is almost enough to make me wet. It's been months since I have let my body be used by strangers, and the urge to submit again has been relentlessly building inside me. My husband and I have a very open marriage, but I've promised him I will not play with others without him being present. He is concerned for my safety, and I love him for it, but he is away on an extended business trip. So when it occurs to me I can satisfy my growing need in a protected place, I quickly make arrangements and do my best not to feel any guilt for going back on our agreement.
Two nights later, I stand outside the door to the BDSM club. There is no sign, only a discreet street number to the side, but when I punch in the code on the nearby keypad the door silently opens. I walk through, the door swinging shut behind me, and proceed down a darkened hall. When I arrive at the reception desk, the club madam greets me with a smile and a warm welcome. She is the person in charge, ensuring that the rules are followed and that nothing happens without consent. She pulls out a sheet and we go over what I will not consent to: choking, any type of gag, heavy or excessive whipping. I don't really want to be blindfolded, but I decide not to specifically prohibit it. We agree on a safe word, then I sign the paper and she points me to a locker where I stow my bag and phone. When I turn, she holds out a black studded collar and fastens it around my neck. It is a way to quickly identify all of the subs in the club.
"Have a good time," she says without apparent irony as she motions me into the club.
I give her a bemused smile, then start to walk down a mirrored hallway. I stop briefly to gaze at my reflection. I am wearing a short white dress that stops at mid thigh, plunges between my breasts, and is open at the back almost down to my ass. The spaghetti straps tied behind my neck make it easy to remove. My stilettos are also white. My auburn hair cascades down past my shoulders in waves, and I shake it loose as I stare into my grey-green eyes. I like what I see. The last thing I look at is the collar around my neck, and I feel a slight tingling between my legs.
At the end of the hall I walk past a man in jeans and a tight tee shirt that shows off the bulging muscles in his arms. He is the enforcer, working with the madam to ensure things don't get out of control. I give him a smile as I enter the room, and he nods as his eyes flick over my body. He will be my protector for the next few hours.
I step into the room and take it all in. The space is large, the ceiling high, the ambience all red velvet, multiple mirrors, and lots of gold trim. A large St. Andrews Cross is prominent on the back wall, next to a wooden frame. There is a poster bed, a padded leather table, and a narrow padded bench in the center of the room, all of them equipped with restraints. Chains and ropes are suspended from the ceiling throughout, and tables with all manner of BDSM equipment are scattered at the perimeter. Smaller rooms with curtains open off the sides of the room, and I catch a glimpse of a corseted woman being spanked by a leather-clad man in one of them. But what most catches my attention is the naked man chained to the sidewall on the left, directly opposite a naked woman similarly chained to the opposite wall. The enforcer follows my gaze and moves to my side.
"They're toys, meant to be fondled and teased by anyone," he explains. "Playthings."
There's that word again. I meet his gaze and smile, already feeling the moisture between my legs. I nod, then walk over to the spread-eagled man and stand in front of him. He is wearing only the black collar, his cock thick but not erect. He looks at me silently with a mixture of defiance and resignation. I stare at him, making him wait. Then I move close and give him a kiss, my mouth open, my tongue searching for his. He kisses me back eagerly, and I reach down and fondle his cock. It grows hard in my hand almost instantly, and I keep stroking and kissing until he is fully erect. Then I step away, smiling broadly, and he closes his eyes and groans softly.
I turn and move across the room to the woman chained to the opposite wall. She is similarly spread-eagled, wearing only the black collar. She is petite, with fine features and straight black hair that falls to her small breasts. Her nipples are clamped, connected by a thin chain. A dildo protrudes lewdly from her pussy. Her big dark eyes look at me with scarcely concealed desperation.
"Fuck me," she whispers.
Instead, I tug hard on the chain connecting the clamps, and she whimpers softly. I keep pulling, stretching her nipples as far as they will go. She moans and pulls against her restraints. Then I finger her slippery clit, and her breathing changes and her mouth opens. I continue to play with her for a few minutes, alternating between the chain and her clit. I stare hard at her, but her eyes are closed, her body whiplashed between pain and pleasure. When I finally stop, she opens her eyes and silently begs. Meeting her gaze, I reach down and push the dildo all the way into her until she groans loudly, then I walk away.
I look around the room and notice more patrons. Two women in boots and bustiers are tying a man to overhead restraints and preparing to flog him. A beautiful dark-skinned couple has just walked in, both in leather, she wearing the collar. They assess the equipment, then move toward the bed. The sounds of passionate sex emanate from behind the curtain of one of the private rooms. Two men lounge near the entrance, their backs to me, talking to the bouncer positioned there.
I have arranged to be dominated by three men at once, something I've never experienced before. I don't see them yet, so I start to move toward one of the sofas along the side of the room. Then the two men at the entrance turn and stare, and I suddenly realize they are here for me. They walk towards me, their eyes taking in my heels and collar and skimpy dress. One of them is tall and lanky with dark curly hair. He is wearing cargo shorts and a tee shirt, and he looks very young, barely old enough to be allowed into the club. The other man is stocky and shorter, about my height in the heels. He is wearing only long pants, his bare torso and head completely bald. He has a tattoo on each arm, an eagle on one shoulder and a snake stretched out along the opposite forearm. Both of them are barefoot. When they reach me, I give them my best smile.
"Where's your friend?" I ask, looking over their shoulders.
"He'll be here in a moment," the tattooed man says.
He continues to ogle me, a smirk slowly spreading across his mouth. The kid just stands there and gapes. I know they both have the urge to grope me, but they manage to keep their hands to themselves for the moment. I glance down at the bulges in their pants and try and keep my own smirk to myself.
I am about to sit on the sofa, giving them a better view of my legs, when I catch a glimpse of another man entering the room, nodding to the bouncer as he passes. He walks toward us in his faded jeans, and my heart skips a beat. He is not as tall as the kid but extremely well built, his rippled pecs and tight stomach visible under his open shirt. He has a short beard and long, shaggy hair that reaches almost to his shoulders. He is gorgeous, and I know immediately that he is the alpha male of the three. When he reaches us his eyes quickly travel up and down my body, then he stares at me.
"You....are a vision," he says. His voice is low and sexy.
"Thank you," I say sweetly.
I try and project innocence in my voice, but my thong is already wet. Shaggy looks down at my legs, seemingly reading my mind. He smiles broadly, then moves to the center of the room and stands under some cuffs suspended by a rope from the ceiling.
"Come stand here."
I glance quickly at the bouncer standing by the entrance, take a deep breath, and walk to the spot under the dangling cuffs.
"Put your arms up." His voice is quiet, but his eyes are shining.
I raise my hands over my head, and he quickly fastens the cuffs around my wrists. The three men stand in front of me, their eyes wandering all over my now vulnerable body. When they finally look me in the eyes, I meet their gazes evenly, one by one, not letting them see my fear.
The tattooed man walks behind me, running his hands down my back and cupping my ass. The kid stands to the side and slips his hand inside my dress, fondling my breasts and pinching and twisting my nipples. The shaggy haired man stands close in front of me, staring into my eyes while he runs his hands over my hips and legs. When he cups my pussy and rubs it through the dress, I'm sure he can feel the wet thong underneath. Their hands are all over me, and a sudden shiver ripples through my body. He sees it and gives me a lewd smile, then steps back.
"Take off her dress."
Tattoo guy reaches up and unties the straps around my neck, and the dress falls silently to the floor around my heels. He moves around in front of me and all of them stare, their eyes wide with lust. I stand nearly naked in front of them, arms pulled high over my head, wearing only a red thong, white stilettos and the black collar, their sex toy for the night. They haven't even started to play with me yet but I am already very, very wet.
"What should we do to her first?" the tattooed man asks.
In response, shaggy hair moves to one of the tables and returns with clover clamps connected by a short chair. My nipples are already hard, and when he clamps them I gasp, the sudden pain shooting directly to my groin. He pulls on the chain a few times, increasing the pain, then puts it between my teeth.
