My First Live Performance

This goes without saying, but this story is a work of fantasy. Consent is sexy.

*

I don't remember how I got here. All I remember was meeting two guys at the bar, they bought me a shot, and then... things went dark. Did they drug me? All I could say for certain was that I now I had a bag over my head and my arms attached to a metal rod at the head of the bed frame. They weren't attached to the bed frame itself, but something that felt like a splitter bar holding them a few feet apart.

"Hi, James," a soft voice greeted me. "You're in good hands. We're so glad you came up with this idea." What the hell did I agree to and how long had I been out? I wanted to talk, but my throat was dry and I could only make a soft croaking noise.

"Oh, let me help you," he said. Up under the hood came a tube that this mysterious caretaker angled into my mouth. Through it flowed a liquid. I immediately spit it out because I was still trying to figure out what happened after the last time I took a drink from them. "Relax, it's just water."

I wanted to be principled and not take it, but I was more thirsty than I'd ever been in my life. Reluctantly, I drank the water. The kind man at my bedside gave me as much as I could drink. "If you want more, just ask," he said.

I tried my hand at talking once again. "What the hell is going on?" My voice was rough like I'd been smoking a pack a day for twenty years. "Who are you and why can't I move?"

"Don't act so confused. This was all your idea." said my caretaker. "Do you remember that party about a month ago in Uptown? It was a costume party and the host was dressed like Wonder Woman?"

I remained silent, searching my brain. It seemed like a world away from my current predicament. "Uhm, yeah. I guess."

"Do you remember sitting out on the deck with a guy named Davis who said he was a hypnotist?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do", I said. It was a pretty nondescript night, but I remembered Davis. He was a fairly normal looking guy. We talked about working out, books, current events -- normal things. After a few minutes, he mentioned that he knew hypnosis, and I laughed. I don't remember exactly how the conversation went, but he asked if he could try to put me under. I also remember thinking that he probably learned hypnosis from a YouTube video because he wasn't very good at it. "He kept saying he could hypnotize me. He tried using a watch but I couldn't stop laughing at how ridiculous he was." I paused to think of more details. "What does that have to do with this?"

My caretaker laughed. "Well, apparently the hypnosis worked better than you thought. Once he had you under trance, he asked you what your fantasy was. You gave quite an interesting answer! He ran that idea past his fanbase, and turns out what you wanted to happen to you was something people would be willing to pay to see."

I began to flail around at my restraints. My legs were tied together, and my arms refused to budge from their bar. All the while, I started ranting to my caretaker that he was so very wrong. "I don't know what the hell you think I want, but this isn't it. And I certainly don't want to be watched while you sick fucks do this to me."

He clapped, and my body fell limp. My arms and legs felt like they went to sleep. I wanted to move them, but the nerve impulses to them went unanswered. What the hell? I thought. What is going on?

I could hear the caretaker chuckling. "You did say that your unwillingness was part of the turn on. You even signed a paper to that effect. But don't worry, at this point, you're going to do it whether you want to or not. As you just noticed when I clapped, the triggers are already in place." Slowly, my limbs woke up and I was able to move them again though they were heavy again as if I'd just woken up. "You don't have a ton of triggers implanted. Just a few that make it easy to control you. It's important that you be able to struggle."

The caretaker clapped again and once more I fell limp. It was a strange sensation being terrified with all of my muscles completely relaxed. He lifted the hood to expose my mouth and shoved a pill in. "This is an isolated part of MDMA. You won't be getting high from it, but it will heighten your sensations. Everything will start to feel very good shortly." He ran his fingernails down my bare chest in a teasing manner which made me realize for the first time that I was completely naked. "Take a few minutes to get used to that. Pretty soon, you'll be wishing for it to end."

*

As I waited, I started to think about just what in the hell I could have told them that would have led to me being chained to a bed naked and given a drug by a mystery man. More importantly, what did that have to do with this Davis guy? It's obviously a sexual thing but there's a small chance that I was about to be tortured. Maybe they were lying about the consent and this is all part of their sick ploy. And then I had an idea of what it might be.

It'd been a while since I'd been with a woman. I consider myself to be straight, but as we can all attest, the longer between partners, the weirder your sexual fantasies get. At first, I loved watching women have forced orgasms. Then I read that men can have something very similar by stimulating their prostate. I bought a few toys and practiced, but never quite got the hang of it. Don't get me wrong: it felt amazing to blow a load with something in my ass, but it was never the earth-shattering orgasm that was supposedly analogous to a g-spot orgasm.

In my search for how to achieve the mythical prostate orgasm, my porn tastes had started to get a little weirder, too. Again, I'm not gay, but gay guys know how to work the equipment I had, if you catch my drift. And I'd never really experimented before, so maybe I'd like it. I'd downloaded Grindr and cruised DoubleList some before, but never pulled the trigger with meeting people from either. In the end, I always got cold feet and chalked it up to being what the Internet calls "Prison Gay".

Oh god, I thought. Did I tell him that I wanted to try gay things? What the hell! This isn't good! I tried (and failed) not to hyperventilate. What made it worse was that every breath and movement against the soft bedsheets felt amazing. The drug was working. My thoughts raced between thinking about what a prostate orgasm might feel like on this and being terrified. I could feel my cock getting harder by the second until it felt like it was going to burst.

After what felt like an eternity, I heard the door open and more than one person walk in. My caretaker asked how I was doing, and I didn't respond. He knew. I heard the smirk in his voice. He clapped once and like clockwork I fell limp. My hands remained shackled in their bar, but I felt someone unlatch my metal bar from it's holding place while another man untied my legs. These new men then lifted me up and placed me facedown on something that felt like a massage chair with no headrest. I went to move my arms and found that they'd been attached to a metal rod at the head of the bedframe. They weren't attached to the bed frame itself, but something that felt like a splitter bar holding them a few feet apart.Then one man shackled my ankles while the other affixed my arm bar to something sturdy. Lastly, I felt something come down on the back of my neck and lock my head in place.

I'd never felt so exposed in my life. There was a pad under my legs for support, but it left my bare cheeks open wide, the entry path unobstructed. I had no defense for anyone or anything that wanted to explore my ass. And what was worse was that there was no way to hide my face. Whatever they did to me, I couldn't look away or have a private moment.

After a second, I felt the whole contraption move. The casters squeaked as I rolled down the hall, heading towards my uncertain date with destiny.

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They say when you lose one sense, the others get better. I wasn't able to see or smell anything through the hood, but I was able to hear and feel a lot. As we breezed down the hallway, the wind brushed against the hairs on my exposed body. The doors sounded heavy with firm, authoritarian latches as they each closed behind me, each reminding me that I was not in control of what was happening. My captors were wearing tennis shoes that made only the slightest noise with each step on the hard floor and their clothes rustled as they walked.

After the last door, I was wheeled into a room that had very different acoustics and a quiet buzz. I felt a warmth on my back as I was swung around and my some of my escorts walked away. I thought that I was alone when my caretaker quietly whispered "words off." He touched my shoulder with his warm hand and heard him laugh. "That trigger is a fun one that I'll go ahead and spoil for you. Now you'll be able to make noises all you want but not be able to form any words. Just mindless moaning. Have fun."

As I waited with anticipation for what came next, a voice boomed over a loudspeaker and reverberated across the room. "Good evening, everyone. Welcome to tonight's show. I'd like to remind newcomers and guests alike that there is no personal video or photography of any kind allowed. If you would like to purchase a copy of tonight's show, you can do so by reaching out to myself, Davis Winfield, or one of the other show runners that you see around here tonight. We also ask for your discretion. Our talent this evening has been very brave to volunteer, so if you know him or see him in the real world, you can remind him that you saw his, ahem, 'one man show', but please refrain from outing him to others. Also, know that while his non-consent is part of his fantasy, we have followed all legal channels and nothing illegal is happening on this stage.

"Lastly, we'd like to welcome our viewers watching via web stream. Those who are in our audience tonight have prepaid to see all three challenges performed by our talent, but those of you online will be paying per round. Don't worry, we'll let you know when you have to pay for the next round.

"I think that covers most of our housekeeping issues. Unless anyone else has anything to add, let's get started with our guest tonight. Please welcome to the stage, James!"

*

The bag was quickly yanked off my head to reveal I was on a brightly lit stage in a room full of about 100 people. There were also cameras with glowing red lights above them all pointed at me. I could see a few monitors that showed close ups of my face, my cock, and my asshole. All were on display for the entire audience to see.

I locked eyes with Davis for the first time since the party. I must have looked somewhat scared because he put his hand on the side of my face and said loudly enough for the mics to pick up "Don't worry. You'll love this!" He then turned to the audience and winked.

"The plan for the evening is very simple," he explained, "James told me while in a hypnotic state that he dreamed of experiencing a prostate orgasm while bound. He expressed his hesitance to have it happen at the hand of another man but also his fear of bringing it up with a girlfriend. He also expressed to me that he's been watching some porn that borders on homosexual and it's spoked his curiosity about giving blowjobs. Well, tonight that dream is coming true, James. What do you have to say about that?"

He leaned in closely so I could speak into his lapel mic but no words came out. I was only able to stammer and guffaw, though even if my trigger hadn't been activated, I still don't know what I would have said.

"You're so eloquent, James." The audience laughed. "Your evening will consist of three challenges. First will be to withhold from having an orgasm at the hands of our designated masseuse, Erik. If you fail that, then you'll have to go for a second round where Erik will make keep fingering you but this time you'll be giving Rob a blowjob at the same time. Your goal will be to get Rob to finish before you do. If you fail, you'll have to go a third round which is where Erik gets to show you his real massage trick where he doesn't use his hands." He winked as the audience laughed. "Let the games begin." He then walked out of my field of view.

I should have been scared but at that same moment, I felt a sturdy hand begin to caress my backdoor. Slathered in lubricant, I felt a finger slowly rub the outside of my anus. I tried to move away from the man behind me, but I couldn't move more than a few inches. Between the eyes watching me, the restraints, and the sensation of someone touching me where I'd literally never been touched by another person before, it was overwhelming.

I was still eyeing the crowd and debating what I was going to do when Erik slipped one finger in. He went slowly, working his finger like a worm until he was in all the way down to his knuckle. His articulation demanded my attention and before long he had slipped in a second one. It wasn't long before he found what he was seeking and began to move his finger in a "come here" motion. When he first hit my prostate, I jumped a little and let out a little yelp. My startled reaction sent a wave of nervous energy through the crowd and telegraphed to them that Davis was in fact not lying: I had never experienced this before, and they were in for a show.

Erik's fingers continued to rub my most forbidden of places, but I wasn't immediately reduced to a drooling mess like I expected to be. Don't get me wrong, it felt good. It was a new sensation that no prostate massager had ever given me before this, but I was able to keep my wits about me. Maybe I'd be able to not have a forced gay experience in front of an audience tonight. Maybe I was one of those who simply couldn't have an orgasm this way.

I even began to believe this lie until I realized that my breathing was getting more shallow by the minute and my hands were beginning to shake. It wasn't conscious at all, but I was determined to control it. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. Deep breaths but not too deep. I didn't want to put on a show for this group. I wanted to be so boring that people left or turned off their livestream. I closed my eyes and thought about anything else other than my current situation.

I paused at the top of my breath for a second to give the illusion I was so relaxed. This only made it worse. Instead of having a controlled exhale and normal breathing, all my breath left my body at once. I could only feel my heartbeat radiating from my chest. In a slight panic, I inhaled quickly to catch my rapidly escaping breath only to find myself out of my rhythm and trying to catch my breath. I was losing this challenge and knew that I had to do something fast. Problem was that I'd never had one of these before. What came next? How do you stop what you can't anticipate?

My breathing only caused Erik to dig in harder. He went after my prostate with more pressure and began spreading his fingers apart at random intervals. This change in his motion caught me off-guard and my eyes shot open at the same time as I gasped for air. I pulled at my restraints but my legs hardly budged and my hands hopelessly moved a few inches in their shackles.

I looked out at the crowd and people were starting to get into it. They were liking what they saw. I was losing control to Erik's probing fingers and there was nothing I could do about it. It was a battle of my will versus my anatomy and my body was winning.

As I tightened my chest, a slight whimper escaped. A wave of subdued relief. spread throughout the crowd. As I looked back in shame, I lost control even more and it happened again. It wasn't long before the whimpers grew into full-fledged moans as a surreal tightness began to envelope my lower body. Erik's fingers had found their spot and refused to be denied. I could feel something leaking out of my cock as he fingered me which only added to the sensation.

Pretty soon, I'd lost track of everything. There was no one in the room as I closed my eyes and Erik's fingers win the war.

"James," Davis interrupted with a campy smirk. "How's it going?" All of my awareness, my essential being was focused on the dull ache of my cock and the motion in my ass. That, plus the shortness of breath meant I wouldn't have been able to form a sentence even if I was otherwise able. All I could respond with was open vowel sounds and a pathetic stare. "Come on, now," Davis prodded again. He looked me in the eye and slowly told me "Words on. Do you want to cum?"

"I... I can't... I can't... Please... " was all I managed to get out before I had to close my eyes again and focus on the radiating waves of pleasure caused by Erik's fingers.

"You most certainly can." Davis smiled, pandering to the crowd. "You know what it will cost you, though. I'll give you the chance to stop all of this. Tell me, James: do you want to cum?"

As he asked the second time, Erik's fingers vacated my backside, leaving me dangling at the edge. The pressure in my manhood felt like a weight. "I'm not... I... No..." I couldn't string a sentence together, only fragments. I didn't want to cum in front of all these people, but also the idea of stopping now was unbearable. Just a little more and I'd be over the crest. I was so close.

As the feeling began to subside, I was left with an overwhelming frustration. It hurt. All I had to say was 'yes' and I'd be able to cum. I was being tempted to just let it happen when Erik then slid his fingers back in and began to work me back to the edge.

I let out a desperate moan. The urge to cum was a thousand times stronger now and I started to move in sync with Erik's fingers. I closed my eyes and reveled in the sensation.

"James. I need an answer." Davis was smirking again and put the microphone in my face. "Look at me. I can make you cum... for a price. Do you want it?"

I looked at him, then at the audience. I could see my face in the monitor contorted in discomfort. If I didn't know the situation, I'd say I was about to cry. I shook my head no.

Erik stopped again.

This time, I let out a frustrated laugh/moan and shook my restraints as hard as I could but to no avail. My impending orgasm had nowhere to go and instead the pressure magnified in my dick. This time was worse than last, and it was becoming clear to me that there was only one way this ended.

Davis chuckled. "You seem so frustrated. I know what could take care of that. But I need to hear you say it: for the third time, do you want to cum?"

I was beyond words. I nodded yes.

"Say it."

"Iwanttocum" I said in one breath. "Please god, I want to cum."

"Say please."

"Plea-ahhhhh!"

Halfway through 'please' Erik beared down harder than ever on my prostate. I moaned repeatedly with an open mouth as he vigorously fingered me until what can only be described as pure ecstasy washed over me. For what felt like an eternity, every muscle in my body tensed and something leaked out of my cock while I breathlessly gasped and moaned. Once it passed, I was breathing like I'd finished a marathon, and my eyes refused to focus on any one thing. My hands shook as I realized what had happened and what was going to come next.

"Words off. If I had to guess, I'd say you enjoyed that." Davis said. "Guess it's time for round 2."

*

My movement against my restraints was a token gesture at best. I knew I was going nowhere, but my arms and legs were desperate to dissipate the energy that Erik's fingers had imparted into my prostate. Even if Davis hadn't revoked my talking privileges, I wouldn't have been able to compose any words.

Unfortunately, it wasn't about to get easier. I had no time to recover before Davis turned to the audience again. "For those watching at home, please click the button in the upper right corner now. If you do not, the stream will go dark in 30 seconds. For those who are sticking around, please welcome Rob to the stage!"