The Strip - Max

39 / Restrained

Sloppy seconds didn't seem to bother one of the men. He happily replaced Roman and his cock left my hand to take a turn at being the third man in the cluster. But like all things that are enjoyable, the release of the first man in my ass brought the fun to an end. As I was carted off to be cleaned up, I noticed that Tyler wasn't behind the bar, or anywhere else for that matter. I was both, relieved and disappointed.

Four hands worked soap into a lather to clean away the spunk that drippled from my body. Other hands moved over my flesh with towels to dry the beads of water that clung to my flesh while others held beer bottles and cocktail glasses, tipping back drinks while corresponding eyes watched. Meanwhile, in the distance, I saw Sylvester preparing for what would come next, sparking a tickle in my core.

I had only ever been restrained by one experienced Dom before. Dan. My... husband in training? I had played pretend with a few clients that had no clue of what they were doing and the agreed methods of 'restraining' me were purposely loose enough to escape easily. Mostly symbolic things to give then a sense of playing with bondage without the risks that come with it.

Over the three years I had been living with Dan, we played with bondage a few times. It wasn't one of my kinks, so it never made it into our routine. But at work, since it wasn't a hard pass for me, I would allow clients to have their fun.

Sylvester was known at The Naughty Kitten for many things. Among them his love for restraining submissives and his absolute love for oral sex as the receiver. If being bound in elaborate ways to choke on a man's cock for an hour and a half is your thing, then Sylvester is your man. If asked, he might pleasure a Sub with spanking or the use of a vibrator, but he isn't known for being attentive to sexually stimulating his partners. Some call it pleasure by denial. I call it selfish, but maybe that's just me.

"Gents, please escort our toy to the bench," Sylvester said to his friends. "We will all take part in preparing her for our pleasure."

He handed two men cuffs to secure around my ankles and another two men were tasked with the wrist cuffs. A collar was handed to another man. As each item was secured and inspected more items were pulled from a chest and handed to the men with instructions of where and how they were to be added to my body. Roman smiled as he buckled an X shaped harness over my chest.

"Roman, you are tasked with cleaning this and applying a small amount of lubricant to the barb," Sylvester said.

Roman's jaw dropped slack while his eyes strained against the sight of a large chrome fishhook. His face went pale and I did my best to comfort him by smiling and showing no sign of concern. He grasped the heavy device and a few items he needed to clean and lube the penis head shaped barb on the end of the hook.

I was laid chest down on the bench in the middle of the rig and felt a pull at my ankles, then another at my knees. Metal spreaders bars were clasped to the cuffs on my legs, keeping them separated by about eight inches. I looked down my body and noticed they were the adjustable type. I was sure my legs would be spread wider at some point. My arms were tugged and spread with a bar being secured behind my back to the various cuffs on my wrists and arms.

"Is that enough lube?" Roman asked.

"Oh! Ahhh, more than enough. Like ten times more than needed. No, don't... don't clean it off," Silvester said, eliciting laughter from the group at Roman's expense.

I was hauled upright, standing on my own while Roman stood, holding the hook and watching the others attach ropes to the bars and harnesses attached to my body. His eyes met mine and I was sure I could see regret painting his expression. I smiled. He returned the gesture with a strained grin that was too easily lost to be real.