I heard the crunching of gravel as the van stopped. My body swayed, I had to re position my knees on the hard floor of the van. I could hear voices as the van doors opened and closed, footsteps on the gravel. I felt so groggy, how long had I been out? How long had we driven? How far? My head hurt, my hands hurt. I was fixed to the side of the van somehow, my hands tight together. I could move a few inches forward before the nylon strapping stopped me. I had a hood over my head, gag in my mouth I strained to hear any more noises but it seemed I have been left alone. As I regained my fuzzy senses I was becoming more aware of my discomfort. My knees ached from the position, my hands were tender but above all my balls ached.
I remember how mistress wirily smiled her luscious smile as she locked the padlock on my chastity a month ago. A month, despite all my aches and pains my balls were the worst. A month of torment and teasing and now, in the back of a cold van, my balls. Straining against the rubber strap under them, the were being held upwards bulging from over a month a teasing. My flaccid penis felt ok, snug in its sheath, but in the discomfort of my surroundings he was doing ok.
The worst part, I had signed up for this, voluntarily agreed to it. The mistress ball was the biggest event on the calendar, a summertime ball at a large stately home in countryside. Where we did not know, but what I did know is that the nations elite mistresses and dominatrix's would all be in attendance. It was, I guess a celebration of domination, all forms and varieties, an end of year party to reward their hard work training. It was a chance for the top Dom's from around the country to let down their hair and socialise but more importantly it was a chance to showcase their most loyal slaves. That's where I came in.
I heard footsteps returning, my pulse quickened, senses heightened. I could hear muffled females voices, giggling. Not like I had heard mistress before. Suddenly the van door opened, there was silence. I felt hands on my shoulders, gentle hands, slowly massaging my shoulders. "just relax my darling" the words faded out as a bolt of pain shot in to my neck, I gasped, my knees buckled and I slumped forward hanging taught by the straps holding my hands behind my back, darkness closed in.
I heard classical music, laughter, chatting, the place was alive, but my senses were not. Brightness in my eyes, squinting I took a while to see what was around me, my god it was a sight.
I was in the main hall of a large manor house, there were paintings on the walls, pillars with flowers, statues and women. I was surrounded my mistress's, leather clad, in latex, satin silk all varieties of outfits. None were particularly paying attention to me, they were mingling drinking champagne, some were smoking just socialising like a normal gathering. I couldn't see Samantha. Then with a tingle through my blood I became aware of my situation and aware of the other slaves. I looked to the open fireplace, there were two women sat in large leather chairs, feet up on the backs of two naked slaves each on all fours. The waiters, again completely naked carrying glasses of fresh champagne and canapés. There were slaves cleaning dressed as sissy French maids, on their hands and knees polishing the floor or using feather dusters.
Then there were other slaves, including me, we seemed to have something different in store. In the far corner of the hall next to the women in armchairs was a cage containing a slave. Opposite there was another slave, pulled taught to a st Andrew's cross, he was naked except for a hood over his head. To the right of him in the far corner was another, he was suspended from the rafters in a kind of leather corset. Straps on either side attached to a pair of crotch less leather pants, his cock and balls bulging through the hole as gravity pulled him down. In the centre on the room was a large wooden table covered in all manor of instruments, flags, paddles, penis pumps, milking machines everything I had ever fantasised about lay on the table. I looked around the room at the slaves, at the Dom's, all ignoring us so far but looking so elegant, so seductive, red lipstick, long nails, corsets, cleavage, stockings, knee high boots... my until now dormant cock swelled slightly in its sheath.
Then there was me.
I was held against some wooden frame work in a half seated position, my feet planted on wooden blocks, it was as if I'd half stood up and someone had stopped time. I had belts holding me to the frame, my arms pulled back at chest height. I looked at the marble floor, I was about three feet up, taped to the floor was a plastic sheet with a large glass vase in the middle.
More and more women entered the hall, the manor must be bigger than I thought, the chatter got louder as the hall filled to maximum all eyes at the centre of the room. A large stud entered the hall, over 6ft tall, muscular, black as night. He walked to the centre of the room, longing female eyes followed, his foot long meat swung as he walked. At the table he turned at put one leg on the wooden chair to give the women the view they craved.
