Descent to the Vault

The events that this story retells occurred around twenty or so years ago, and neither the relationship or the setting have survived.

The club was in the East end of London, between the Commercial road and Cable street, and the whole area got a makeover (turned into yuppie flats) in the run up to the 2012 London Olympics.

As for the relationship, well, that's a whole other story.

This one begins at a dinner party with our friend Max. Max was a colourful character, and had an equally colourful love life (so he would have us believe), although how much was true and how much existed only in his mind, you could never be sure.

What was certain was that he was always good for an entertaining story.

The yarn on this occasion involved an underground sex club - literally underground as it turned out - in the East end of London that he had recently been introduced to.

He went on at great length about the lurid goings on there, live sex shows and the like, and I got the distinct impression that he provided too much detail for it to be pure fabrication.

It certainly made an impression on my other half, who seemed to hang on his every word, and frequently interrupted in order to ask a question or clarify a detail.

Indeed, over the next few days she brought up the subject on several occasions, to the extent that I eventually approached the subject head on and asked her what was going through her head.

She reluctantly admitted that she had found the story fascinating, and couldn't seem to put it out of her mind. Moreover, she said, she hadn't just found it fascinating, but really arousing too.

This was a bit of a revelation, as arousal wasn't a common feature of our marriage at the time, in fact it was almost an alien concept.

We had got to the point a lot of couples arrive at where any form of sex is likely to be routine, dull and unexciting, and anything that was likely to instill a little spice was an avenue worth exploring.

"Are you seriously suggesting that we should follow this up?" I asked.

"Why not, couldn't do any harm" she replied.

I thought about it. It bloody well could do some harm, and I knew it.

I also knew that I kept my brains in my balls, and common sense and judgement would have little or nothing to do with it.

Decision made, I contacted Max and asked him for more details about how to find this den of iniquity.

Thus armed with location details and suggestions for dress code, etiquette etc. we laid our plans.

I suppose at this point, some kind of description of Nikki - for such was my wife's name- is required. Suffice to say that she was around forty at the time of these events and was frequently compared to Jamie Lee Curtis, which is a pretty good approximation. Fit, good figure and short platinum blonde hair about sums it up.

She was struggling to achieve what she thought was an acceptable look for a sex club without looking like either a hooker of a cast member from the Rocky Horror Show.

Finally she settled on a simple black sheath dress with a scoop neck, showing a bit of cleavage but still leaving something to the imagination. She was helped by the fact that her boobs were still in pretty good shape, so she didn't need to bother with a bra.

The ensemble was completed by a skimpy black thong, so as not to show and lines and a pair of stylish black patent stilettos.

We arrived at the "venue", a Victorian warehouse off Cable street, at the appointed time feeling more than a little anxious. Turns out we need not have done, as a fair few others were turning up at the same time, in get ups varying from the full goth look to black tie.

We had anticipated some difficulty in gaining entry, but actually, it couldn't have been easier. We knocked on a wicket door in an arch in the side of the building, which was marked with a "V", ( the place was known as The Vault).

Once inside, we were asked to pay the entry fee, then shown where to deposit our coats.

The interior was down a flight of steps which opened into a vast basement with vaulted brick ceilings supported on huge cast iron pillars every twenty or so feet.

The whole place was heaving with people. The squares formed by the pillars were used to support screens to section off different areas, the first one being a bar.

We collected a couple of drinks and set off to explore. Everywhere we looked there was an example of something erotic, perverse or just plain bizarre, from cavorting gimps in rubber, to people being tormented on whipping posts, or just plain old couples fucking. The latter were performing on a platform that exactly fitted between four of the iron pillars, and looked exactly like a boxing ring, but without the ropes. At the back of this platform there were nine large digital TV screens mounted in a square. There were evidently a number of cameras set up because the display alternated from a giant image of the performance to nine different close ups from various angles, all to the background of a pumping techno beat.

As we watched, neither of us said a word, but I had an enormous hard on, and Nik's nipples stuck out like corks from a wine bottle. I got the distinct impression that she was regretting the absence of a bra.

To be frank, we were loving it, but had absolutely no idea where to look or what to do.

My attention was attracted by a guy on the other side of the bar area. He was tall, muscular, had a shaved head and was covered in tattoos - head, face, hands, everywhere.

He was wearing leather jeans and waistcoat, and there were four others dressed like him, but he was clearly the Alpha. As he walked around, it was clear that he was in his element, and people moved out of the way as he approached.

As we were watching him, he clearly became aware of our gaze. He stared for a moment, and then turned and said something to one of his companions, then nodded in our direction. They all looked our way, then, slowly, steadily, the Alpha raised his arm, pointed at me and crooked his finger in a beckoning gesture.

Immediately I felt the heat in my cheeks and my stomach turned over. I pointed to myself and mouthed "Me?" He shook his head and beckoned again, and then pointed.

"Jesus H. Christ" she said, "He's pointing at me! What the hell should I do?"

"Go and see what he want I suppose, it's a public space, what's the worst that can happen?"

"That's what concerns me!" she replied, and began to gingerly cross the floor.

"If I wave and scream for help, I'm relying on you to come and rescue me!" was her parting shot.

I watched her apprehensive progress across the room. As she stopped and stood in front of Mr. Alpha, I could see that he towered over her 5ft 4inch frame.

There was some kind of interchange, but I couldn't hear anything over the music, and I'm a rubbish lip reader. He said something else and she nodded in my direction. More dialogue, then it became definitely one sided. He would speak, she would nod. This happened several times, then he reached out and took the wine glass from her hand, to which she offered no resistance, and placed it on the bar.

More nods, then he spoke again, and she lowered her eyes to the floor and kept them there.

I watched this going on, getting increasingly aroused, but sensing no distress on her part. Rightly or wrongly, I did nothing.

Then, from one of the guys behind her she was passed a clipboard and pen, and after a brief hesitation, she signed something on it.

The board was instantly whisked away, and Alpha man stepped forward and put his right hand around the back of her head and gripped her lower jaw with his left.

Then, forcing it open, he slid his tongue into her mouth!

Wow! Adrenaline levels through the roof or what? But again, no signs of either distress or resistance of any kind, she just stood there with her eyes closed and her arms hanging limply by her side whilst a tattooed giant tongue fucked her throat.

After a full minute of this he took a step back and spoke again, to which she nodded and uttered the first words that I had been able to lip read, "Yes Sir!", and then her eyes returned to the floor.

Fucking hell this was hot! It was about to get a lot hotter.

Again from behind, one of the supporting players slipped a wide black leather collar around her neck and snapped it shut. She just stood with her eyes closed as if in a trance.

Next came a length of chain with a dog clip on one end and a pair of matching leather cuffs on the other. This was clipped onto the back of the collar. I then watched as my wife meekly allowed first one, then the other of her wrists to be strapped into the cuffs, fixing them in the small of her back.

The guy who was doing the strapping was shorter and less heavily built than the leader, but similarly dressed and inked. He gripped the chain just below the collar in his fist and held it tightly in place for the next act of the drama.

Alpha man put a couple of fingers in each side of my wifes' cleavage and jerked the fabric out and down to expose her tits, then allowed it to snap back and squeeze them up and out. Then he slowly and deliberately gripped both nipples (which were already bigger than I had ever seen them) between his thumbs and forefingers, and squeezed and pulled at the same time whilst she was being held back by the collar.

Nikki gasped, her mouth open, but eyes still tight shut.

The amount of stretch in them was incredible, but Alpha man just kept on the pressure.

Meanwhile, his wingman, collar in one hand, reached round and down and pulled up the hem of her dress, which, being elastic, stayed there.

He then put his fingers through the string of her thong and simply snapped it, the remainder of the garment falling down her leg to rest on her left foot.

The next move was I suppose fairly obvious, he slipped his fingers into her clearly sopping pussy.

Stretched at one end, fingered at the other and clearly more aroused than I had ever seen her.

Not only her it appeared, because I became suddenly aware that a large crowd was gathering to watch and several were recording the event for posterity on their mobile phones.

After what seemed like an age, Nikki gasped again, shook and nearly fell over as she experienced a shattering orgasm.

That appeared to be the cue for round two.

Alpha man released her nipples, which were red and distended and clipped a leash to the front of her collar. She was then led from the bar in full view of the assembled company, still trailing the remains of her thong in the direction of the raised platform.

It appeared that Max hadn't exaggerated at all on this occasion.

The crowd were clearly used to this kind of performance, as they were all gathered around the platform, and parted like the Red sea as the main event arrived.

I watched as my wife was led up the steps and onto the platform, where she was positioned facing forwards, exposed to the baying mob.

An old fashioned gymnasium vaulting horse was dragged centre stage, to which she was taken. Her ankles were kicked apart and straps secured them to the legs of the horse.

A hook was attached to the chain just above the wrists, which were then hoisted steadily upwards, bending her forwards over the saddle until her head was on a level with her butt.

The Alpha crew stepped back to admire their handiwork, and the video screens came to life showing every detail of my wife's anatomy in high magnification. There were clearly microphones too, as I could hear her laboured breathing.

The crowd cheered and whistled.

Alpha man circled his prey theatrically, and with a deal of menace, but eventually he stopped posturing and positioned himself in front of his helpless victim. He then began slowly and deliberately to undo the zipper of his trousers.

There was a gasp of approval form the audience (and a gasp of horror from Nikki) as he withdrew an enormous tattooed member and began to stroke it to attention. The thing was bloody huge, and I was wondering how she was going to cope with it, she was certainly staring at it in horrified fascination.

The video display now changed to a single huge closeup of a woman's face - my woman's face - and a glistening purple cock head of biblical proportions. A trickle of sweat ran down her cheek.

Alpha man was a real showman, he didn't attempt to shove his cock down her throat, he just steadily stroked it between a thumb and two fingers a few millimetres from her face. As it began to weep precum he smeared it across her lips, forming a string as he pulled away.

He then placed the tip against her mouth and applied pressure to the back of her head. Slowly her lips parted, but still he did not rush, he merely slid the head of his cock past them and then drew it out again. In out, in out, in out, no rush. He just gently fucked her mouth and stroked his shaft steadily until, when he was obviously getting close, he left it in and jerked furiously for a few moments, then grunted as he shot his load into her mouth.

"Put out your tongue" I heard him say. She obeyed. He squeezed the length of his cock onto her tongue as if he were emptying a tube of toothpaste, then wiped the bead of cum on it.

"Don't you dare swallow, slut" he said menacingly.

The crowd went wild.

The next one swiftly moved into position. He wasn't as girthy as Alpha, but he had piercings all along the underside and a stud through the head. Same routine, shallow thrusts whilst jacking off at the same time. Another mouthful, and another warning not to swallow.

This went on until all five of them had used her similarly. Alpha man then took hold of a fistful of hair and tilted her head up to face a camera.

"Now open up and show us what you've got" he ordered. She complied. A slimy mess was visible on the video screens. "Swirl it round with your tongue". She complied again. "Now swallow!" he said, and held her nose.

In large close up she gulped the whole lot down.

Once again the crowd roared their appreciation.

Predictably it was Alpha man who stepped up to start the next phase. He positioned himself at Nikki's rear and slapped her loudly on the arse.

Audience applause. A slap on the other cheek. More applause. He gripped his cock firmly and started to slide the head up and down the slick lips of her labia. She twitched and her knees shook, but there wasn't much scope for movement.

He applied more pressure and the cockhead penetrated the slit a little further. A slight realignment, another push and the enormous purple mushroom slipped in.

Nikki squealed, I can't imagine that she had ever had anything remotely that big inside her, and the cameras (particularly the floor mounted one between her legs) clearly revealed the amount of stretching that was taking place.

Alpha man was having none of it. Another push, another inch, another scream. This continued until the whole impressive length was buried up to the balls.

Then he slowly withdrew all the way, but leaving the head in, then slowly all the way back in in one long stroke. In out, in out, slowly getting faster, building until he was ramming that thing in and out like a jack hammer.

Sweat was pouring down her face and her knees were buckling, but there was no respite as his balls slammed against her red, swollen pussy.

Then, quite suddenly he withdrew, again leaving the head inside, and paused while his wingman positioned himself at her head. She offered no resistance as the cock was pushed in her mouth, but this was not to be the gentle wank-fucking of before.

Both men thrust forwards at the same time, one balls deep in her pussy, the other hitting the back of her throat, causing her to gag.

Nikki looked as if she was trying desperately not to vomit as the two cocks worked up into a rhythm, and mercilessly pounded her from both ends. I thought she might lose consciousness, she must certainly have lost track of time - it seemed like forever until I heard them grunt and twitch as the both came inside her. As they pulled out the floor cameras clearly captured the semen running down the inside of her thighs and her chin.

She was just starting to get her breath back when the next team moved in to take over. "Oh for fuck's sake, no more" I heard her say, but she was not in any position to have a say in the matter and the fucking began afresh. She seemed to brace herself for the next onslaught. It seemed to have gone on for hours, just a blur of cocks and cum, pain and pleasure, but in reality, it was probably no more than 90 minutes

Every time one of them came in her, they drew a line on her arse with an indelible marker. After four, they drew a line across to mark the fifth. It looked like a darts scoreboard.

Eventually, everybody seemed to run out of steam. She had probably lost count of the number of times she had been fucked {she certainly couldn't see the scoreboard on her arse). Finally it seemed like it was over. Or not. Just as I thought the evening might be at an end, I heard Alpha man over the PA. He thanked them for being a great audience, and then said he wanted to announce the winners of the raffle! Fucking raffle! They were giving her body away like a cuddly toy or a box of chocolates!

I was horrified at this, but more particularly I was horrified at how excited I was at seeing her controlled, humiliated and used as a cum dump. I had never known a rush like it.

Almost like in a dream I watched them draw the ticket and announce the lucky winner. A fat bearded guy ran from the back waving his ticket. The crowd cheered and patted him on the back as he climbed onto the platform to claim his prize.

The prize waited helplessly, unable to move and dripping semen from both ends, caking her thighs. I also noticed that curiously, the remains of her thong still clung to her left shoe.

Fat boy positioned himself for action, dropped his trousers and waved his cock at the crowd in celebration. Fuck me I thought, after what she's taken tonight, she won't even feel that pathetic thing.

It didn't last long. There was no finesse or performance about it, he just rammed it in, pumped away for a few seconds, grunted, came, then farted.

At least it drew a laugh from the mob.

Last announcement of the evening was that the DVD of tonight's performance would be available at next week's event, so my wife was going to be a porn star!

I collected her from the stage and wrapped her in a coat. She was going to need a good scrub down to erase the remnants of tonight's adventures.

We left in a kind of daze. Neither of us spoke. Neither of us new what to say.

She had shown no resistance or objection to what had taken place, and nor, as it happened, had I.

We drove home in a dazed silence. The events of the night were not mentioned, either then or over the following weeks. What was certain was the effect on our sex drive. We rutted like a couple of horny teenagers. I have no idea what was going on in her head, but all I could think of was the image of her, restrained and servicing what seemed to be an endless series of cocks. As I fucked her, all I could see was multiple screens showing her public abuse, and the product of it dribbling down her thighs. It was the most erotic feeling imaginable.

We did go back to the Vault after a time, and although we were never part of the featured entertainment again, we witnessed others in a similar situation.

And although, as I said, we were never chosen for the main event again, I was able to purchase the DVD of our star turn, so it lived on as a major feature in our bedroom performance, and for that matter, it still does.