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Sex Maniacs. Female domination, bondage,foot worsh
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
This is a fictional short story which is inspired by the infamous Sex
Maniac s Ball held annually in San Francisco. It involves female
domination, bondage, foot worship and public humiliation. What more
could anyone want?
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THE Ball
by Owned
I have been eagerly anticipating tonight for several weeks. I can
hardly thinks of anything else. Tonight is the annual charity event
known in the Bay area as the Sex Maniac s Ball.
The Ball is a unique scene event that has almost achieved
respectability. Those attending fall into four groups.
1. Couples and singles that are seriously into fetish fashion, S&M
and related interests. These people come ready to party and are
decked out in their most bizarre leather, lace and rubber costumes.
2. Couples and singles that may play privately but are not ready to
publicly expose their sexy and bizarre side. These people come dressed
in their gowns and tuxedos pretending intellectual curiosity and
charitable intentions.
3. Couples who make the rounds of the city s social and charitable
events looking to make the society pages in the morning s paper.
Being seen and photographed at the Ball has become very hip to an
otherwise very conservative and image conscience crowd.
4. The press. Each year the Ball receives more and more press for
both its charitable purpose and its unmatched ability to sell
newspapers and magazines that feature its activities.
My wife and I attended for the first time last year. We should be
characterized as a part of the second group although we made a
pretense of being the straight laced party goers simply interested in
another charitable event.
We have played dominant and submissive games off and on for the
twenty years we have been married or dated. Early on we took turns
in each role. Once we introduced elements of bondage, our respective
roles began to firm up.
Susan doesn t like to be tied up or gaged. Luckily, it turns our that I
do. Our fantasy play therefor evolved with Susan as the Mistress and
me as her slave.
Our play is primarily behind closed doors and focused on the bedroom.
Our typical scene involves Susan lording her sweet pussy, ass, legs
and feet over me while expecting me to properly worship them in
return. I don t think that I started out with any fetishes, but she has
firmly developed this side of my personality in recent years.
Like a lot of couples, I seemed to have a more frequent and urgent
need to play out my fantasies than Susan. In fact, my whining and
pleading became the basis for our experiments with corporal
punishment and more prolonged bondage. Susan would ignore my
pleas while teasing me with looks, attitude and the manner of her
dress. I have a hard time thinking straight when she is in a nice set of
heels and hose.
Susan began to realize the potential for my constant yearnings about
two years ago. On that fateful night, she innocently asked how much I
really wanted her and what would I do in return for her attention to
my needs. It started slowly with my agreeing to eat her pussy as long
as she wanted with no other reward for me.
Her deals gradually escalated and eventually took our play out of the
bedroom and out of our home. Progressively, she demanded longer
and longer oral service while imposing abstinence on me.
She decided that I should have my hands bound while I pay homage to
her on my knees. She concluded that I did not need any clothes on
while I performed for her. She soon realized the value of a collar and
leash to guide my head deeper into her cunt. When the collar and
leash were not enough, she began to use a riding crop to urge me on.
To focus my attention on her pleasure, she began to use a locking cock
harness on me.
Soon she decided to demand concessions by me outside of the bedroom.
These were more subtle, but dramatically expanded the scope of our
games. One night she demanded that I wear her red panties under my
suit to work the next day. After agreeing to this just this once, she
proceeded to make that my daily attire. I no longer have any male
jockey or boxer shorts.
After her last orgasm she would typically release me from my bondage
and role over leaving me very hot but unsatisfied. After I thought that
she was asleep, I would go into the bathroom and shut the door to
masturbate. Apparently realizing this, Susan declared one night that
I should spend the night in my collar, leather shackles and locking
cock harness.
After being required to wear my locking cock harness to work a couple
of times, I eagerly agreed to purchase a much more comfortable male
chastity belt.
After a lot of research we settled on a relatively expensive but high
quality stainless steel belt made by Tollyboy. Our trips to the
distributor in New Jersey for the measurements and final fitting were
the first times that we exposed our developing life style to anyone else.
I was embarrassed and humiliated to have the staff of the distributor
know of my status, see me naked and aloofly handle my private parts
for the fitting. I was also very turned on by the situation and the
reality of having other people treat me as the slave I have become to
my wife. During both the initial trip for measurements and the final
fitting, no one acknowledged me as a person. All discussion and
arrangements were with my wife. I may as well have been her pet dog
or a mannikin.
Wearing my belt and panties secretly in public were not enough for
me. I craved other opportunities to openly and safely acknowledge our
relationship and my lowly status.
My need to expand our bedroom games to a broader reality led us to
explore the new online world. We set up accounts on American Online
and a local fetish bulletin board. This activity showed us that there
were a lot of couples just like us and the apparent acceptability did a
lot to cement our developing roles. We also learned about local clubs
and opportunities for people in to the D&S scene to meet.
We would often talk about going to one of these scene parties to meet
our new online friends, but concerns about privacy held us back. Our
compromise was to go to the Maniac s Ball last year. As I said earlier,
we went as a straight, but curious couple. In reality we were a lot
more than curious. I naturally wore my chastity belt and panties
under the tux.
It was a great experience that further demonstrated the degree to
which our fetish side was becoming acceptable by mainstream people
and the media.
There was no question about our going to this year s Ball. We had
even made arrangements to go with another female dominant couple
that we had become quite close to in our online adventures. Although
this would be our first face to face meeting with another couple in the
scene, my wife drew the line there. She and her dominate friend
decided that we should attend the Ball as straight couples once again.
No amount of pleading or arguing on my part would change Susan s
mind on this issue. To call it an argument is quite an overstatement.
All she has to do is remind me with a look ar a swat from her riding
crop who the submissive in the relationship is. The ladies would go in
formal gowns and the two slaves would be made to wear our torturous
tuxedos.
As the night of the Ball approached, I seemed to be spending a lot of
time on my knees at Susan s feet. As if I needed to reinforce my foot
and shoe fetish, she seemed intent on increasing my obsession. I sat or
grovelled at her feet while she read the paper or watched TV. I found
myself eating my meals out of a dog dish under the dinner table just
inches away from her feet. At night, she insisted that I curl up and
sleep at her feet.
One day while paying the bills, she wondered out loud about making a
special contribution to the charity supported by the Sex Maniac s Ball.
I naturally replied that she should do whatever she thought was best.
While disappointed about not being able to go to the Ball in my slave
persona, I was glad to be going at all. I would of course have my
chastity belt on and a new pair of lacy panties. I would also get to
meet the other couple that we had chatted with online for so many
evenings.
We both got dressed for the Ball, leaving plenty of time to stop by the
house of our new friends in the scene. We had made arrangements to
meet and then go to the Ball together. I studied the route to their
house on the map, but noticed that Susan seemed to already know the
way. In the end, I simply followed her directions. That was just as
well because I could not think straight with Susan sitting next to me
in the car. She had dressed in a very dramatic and sexy fashion. She
wore her hair up showing of her long gold earnings and matching
choker. Her gown was made of black velvet and showed off her
cleavage perfectly. A wide patent leather belt drew my appreciative
attention to her slim figure. Her hemline nearly reached the floor, but
thanks to a very high front slit, hardly ever succeeded in concealing
her gorgeous legs and feet. Her legs were encased in very sheer black
seamed hose. Her feet were shod in black patent high heel sandals.
As we pulled up to our friends house, Susan again mentioned her
intention of making a special contribution to support the Ball s worthy
cause. Thinking nothing more of her comment, I escorted her to the
front door and rang the bell.
The door was answered by what had to be Steve. His moustache was a
dead giveaway. The rest of his appearance and costume presented the
image of a very sexy and slutty female. We greeted each other
admiring Debby s gown and gawking at Steve s costume. Steve s head
was partially encased in a rubber mask that had cutouts for his eyes
and left only his mouth uncovered. The mask seemed to be part of a
heavy locking collar that was fastened about his neck. He was dressed
in a tight black leather corset that created the dual allusion of
cleavage and a slim waist. Under the corset, I noted that he had a
steel chastity belt on that is identical to the one that I now wear.
Garters where stretched over the chastity belt to hold up black rubber
hose. Over the hose Steve was laced into a pair of knee length high
heel boots. These boots sported small padlocks fastening bands over
his ankles and the top of the boots concealing the end of the lacing.
I was very surprised to see Steve dressed like this. The ladies were
elegantly attired in their gowns and I wore my tux. Looking like a cat
that swallowed the canary, Susan ordered Steve to help me change
into my new outfit. She explained that she and Debbie had planned
for Steve and I to go to the Ball as matching bondage sluts.
This was my dream coming true but I was very nervous about our first
real public exposure. My rubber mask would conceal my identity and
it turns out that the ladies had their own sexy feathered masks to
wear.
Stripped of my tuxedo and new panties, I was quickly transformed to
Steve s twin bondage slut. I had never worn a corset or heels before.
Susan said not to be too concerned as I would not be on my feet for
long.
Noticing the advancing time, the ladies clipped matching chain leashes
to our collars and led us out to the car. This time Susan drove with me
cowering on the floor next to her hoping to avoid anyone seeing me.
Steve was similarly situated with Debbie in the back seat.
Arriving at the hotel hosting the Ball, we drove right up to the front
entrance where we were assisted by the doorman and valet parking
attendant. Susan and Debbie strode into the hotel side by side leading
their bizarrely clad husbands at the end of their leashes. This was my
fantasy for public exposure coming true!
We naturally attracted quite a bit of attention in the lobby. Here it
was difficult to tell who was here for the Ball and who was not a part
of the scene. The sight of several young women giggling and pointing
at us was particularly humiliating. Rather than going directly to the
main Ballroom we went to the service area in the rear of the hotel. My
questions were quickly cutoff by my wife with a tug on the leash and a
swat on my nearly bare ass.
As we entered the service area we noticed a number of men and
women dressed as french maids being prepared to serve the banquet
and in one corner a group of people clad the same as Steve and I. Each
of these apparent slaves were on the end of a leash held by their
Master or Mistress.
Once we reached the group of bondage sluts, my wife pulled me close
to her with my leash. She then kissed me hard on the mouth for
several seconds causing my already wobbly knees to weaken further.
Susan acknowledged that she was going to make my fantasy of public
exposure as a slave into reality. However, she did not appreciate my
constant pressure and whining to get my way. I needed to be punished
and taught a lesson for the future.
The Ball included a lengthy social and cocktail period followed by a
formal banquet and a bizarre fashion show. There would also be
opportunities for dancing and browsing through booths in an adjoining
room manned by well known scene vendors. We really enjoyed each of
these activities last year especially the shows and demonstrations that
followed the fashion show.
This year, however, my activities would be quite a bit more restricted.
All of the bondage sluts were led by their owners out to the Ballroom.
I was led to a table near the front of the room and noted that the
number of the table matched our ticket. Then it dawned on me that
we only had one ticket. That s right, Susan explained. I am donating
your services for the evening. You do not need a ticket!
Still very confused by her explanation, I held my tongue to see what
would happen next. I didn t have long to wait. The Mistress of
Ceremonies appeared on the stage and instructed the owners to install
their bondage sluts. Susan lifted the edge of the long table cloth and
pulled me to my knees. She told me to get on all fours and handed my
leash to what appeared to be a waiter. He led me between the chairs
and under the table. Removing my leash, he attached me to a chain
that ran from underneath the middle of the table. I noticed that the
chain was padlocked to both the table and to my collar. The chain was
approximately the same length as the radius of the table. This would
allow me to reach the edge of the table but not emerge from
underneath it.
The waiter explained what was expected of me as my Mistress looked
on. I was there to serve the paying guests who sat at this table. My
duties included but were not limited to making their shoes and heals
shine. I would be expected to worship their feet and legs, as ordered. I
would also be forced to orally please anyone who demanded it.
This was all explained to the paying guests by a printed and folded
card left on top of the table. The card also explained how a provided
riding crop was to be used to encourage the table bondage sluts in
their duties.
Susan leaned over to look me in the eyes. She smilingly told me to
enjoy myself and said that she would be seated here to ensure my
performance. She said that she would be sure that I did not embarrass
her in front of her new friends. She also explained that as her slave, I
would be required to serve not only the ladies at the table but also any
male Masters.
When I heard this, I panicked and bucked at the collar chain. Upset, I
reminded her that I was not bi. I could and would not suck a male s
cock. My explanation was cut short by a stinging slap to my face
followed by half a dozen well placed strokes by the table riding crop.
When she finished, she calmly continued her explanation. She
acknowledged that having me suck cock is not my fantasy. IT IS
HERS.
After the banquet, the staff would move me and the other bondage
sluts to our next service stations. We would continue to serve
throughout the evening s festivities. We would remain in some form of
bondage, appropriate to our function, until reclaimed by our owners
the next day.
Before the edge of the table cloth was lowered I watched in frustrated
lust as my Mistress left me to join the social activities. Despite the
restrictions of my chastity belt, I achieved an aching partial erection
watching her retreating ass and legs from my limited vantage point.
The last view of the room was the next table where Debbie encouraged
Steve underneath with a firm swat on his ass. She looked over at me
and winked.
A short while later I had to begin my service as the guests legs and
feet began appearing under the table.
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Please let me know through Alt.sex.stories.discussion if you liked this
story. With proper encouragement and instruction I will post more
stories.
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