Slings & Shackles

© 2021

by

Jonathan Longhorn

Copyright © 2021 by Jonathan Longhorn (jonathan_longhorn at yahoo dot com). All rights reserved. Except for the use of less than two pages in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means is forbidden without the express written permission of the author. Express permission is granted to The Nifty Erotic Stories Archive for storage, indexing, retrieval, and display of this work.

Disclaimer: The material in this work is for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content and language. It is intended only for those aged 18 and older. All of the characters in this work are assumed to be at least 18 years of age.

Warning: This story contains scenes of intense BDSM domination and submission. Please read another of my stories if intense BDSM bothers you.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and settings are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, names, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. In the real world having sex without using a condom can be very dangerous to your health. Don’t ruin your life or your future. Slip it on before you slide it in.

All trademarks used in this work are the sole property of their owners and have been used without permission or endorsement.

Chapter 1

Kent and I stood by the bar in Logan’s dressing room. Fidgeting. We exchanged occasional glances between us but for the most part we were focused on our friend across the room. Pacing. Pinching the bridge of his nose with the fingers of one hand while he held his cell phone to his ear with the other.

“Pacing,” I said quietly.

Kent nodded. “And nose pinching.”

I nodded. This was not a good sign. Something was torpedoing the smooth sailing of the night. I could almost see a slow boil rising; steam would be coming out of Logan’s ears any second.

“Something’s…wrong,” Kent said hesitantly.

To explain briefly, we were standing in Logan VanRyn’s dressing room—more like a chamber, considering the size of the cavernous place. We had come together to go over final details before the event started. Well, the main event anyway. The entire weekend was an ‘event’ at some level. The three of us were on the organizing committee and we were also members of the elite board of the club know as Slings and Shackles.

Slings and Shackles is one of, if not ‘the’ most elite dungeons in the world. It is a massive obelisk of a place that seems to go on for days. There is a supper club inside. Fitness room with full time trainers. Multiple bar areas ranging from what you would expect to see in any club, to a dance bar, to a sit-down and have drinks, food and conversation pit…. You get the picture. All, fully staffed at all times.

And then there is the ‘dungeon’ part of Slings and Shackles. It is a fully equipped, multi-function canyon of an area in the heart of the club. There are private play areas that had to be reserved with the concierge. There are a couple of stages where public scenes take place. There are slings, crosses, wall shackles, cuffs at the end of chains hanging from the rafters.

There is a theater—suitable for private parties, screenings—it has been a concert venue from time to time—and at the center of the room, there is a platform that can be raised and lowered as needed—depending on the assigned use of the moment, including the occasional scene to end all scenes.

The room can hold 500 easily. Less, if you bring in cocktail tables, and sit-down areas.

This room is called, “The Arena” and it is where the grand Gala of the weekend event will take place in a few hours. The grand Gala is sold-out. Five hundred tickets at $10,000 apiece, and up if you just wanted to write a larger check.

The event is being held by the BDSM Community at large to raise funds for a local Teen and New Adult LGBTQ+ Center that just had the rug pulled out from under it. The COO of a major funder had recently absconded with millions of dollars that were earmarked for the youth center which, sadly, meant they were going to have to shut their doors unless miracle money came through—soon.

That was not going to happen. Not on our watch. Not if we could help it. The BDSM Community rallied along with many others to hold fundraisers of one sort or another. Ours, simply by association with what we ‘do’ inside these walls, was to be private, invitation only, elite.

Kent is a major league baseball player who at 25 is young by some standards for the phenomenal success he has had. He already has 3 World Series rings and 3 MVP awards and 2 Gold Gloves. He’s also smokin’ hot as fuck and hung like a moose.

Logan is a corporate attorney and investment banker who deals with Fortune 500 organizations, senators, a past president, celebrities across the spectrum. Logan handles accounts in the hundreds of millions of dollars all the way down to a mere few million. Of course, there is nothing ‘mere’ about millions of dollars in anyone’s book.

My name is D Boone Mansfield. You might recognize the name and the face. I have won the last 4 Oscars for Best Actor in a Leading Role—one tear-jerker of a romantic lead and three Oscars for action hero roles. Additionally, I have won a Tony for a lead role in a Broadway play—I can sing and dance with the best of them—Golden Globe nominations, and I am even up for a Grammy for Best Male Vocal in a few months for an album that I put out because someone said why don’t you put out an album. Quite a string of hits for somebody who hasn’t hit 30.

So, I can hear your immediate questions. The answer to one of those questions is…‘nothing’. The ‘D’ in my name stands for nothing. It’s a tradition going back generation upon generation. My father is D Benjamin Mansfield. My grandfather is D Alexander. My great grandfather is D Soloman. His father was D Niklaus. You get the picture.

The ‘bigger’ question, at least of those two at any rate? What are an MLB star, a corporate attorney & investment banker, and an A-list actor doing in a place like Slings and Shackles?

Quick answer—the three of us are among the most sought-after Doms in the business. Refer back to the club description previously mentioned—private, invitation only, elite. We became fast friends. We became best friends.

Logan called Kent and me and asked us to help with the fundraiser for the LGBTQ+ center and of course we said yes. We pulled out our check books and made enormous donations—7-figure donations, each—but we also said yes to his request that we participate in the ‘Dom’ side of things during the event. We have worked together for several years and have become very close friends. As I said a moment ago, best friends we three.

No, in answer to your next question. We have never ‘played’ together. It isn’t exactly a lack of attraction, as it were but more the fact that we are each Alpha Top Doms.

Three Alpha ‘Top’ Doms don’t really ‘fit together’ in certain respects. If you get what I mean.

Tonight, Logan is bringing in a celebrity sub for the main event. Hence, the sold-out status of the theater to witness not only a ‘celebrity’ of some kind or another but a celebrity that is going to be the star sub of the night. He is going to give it up to the three of us. Quite frankly, he’s going to get dominated the fuck out of himself. Logan hasn’t even told Kent and me who the celebrity is. His response to our queries was simply, ‘hold on to your boots, boys.’

Celebrity sub.

That is the draw tonight to cap off the event. All proceeds are going to the LGBTQ+ center. At last tally, we already have over $5 million in hand from the ticket sales and more in pledges. Like I said, ‘elite’.

There is another element within the club and the BDSM community at large—family. We may not be related by blood, although some within are, but we are a family. With that sense of ‘family’ comes an unshakeable sense of respect. You do not ‘out’ someone to the rest of the world. Period. The consequences are grave. I won’t say that the security team would go so far as putting someone’s feet in a cement casement and throwing them overboard in the deepest parts of the ocean. But, you can make someone ‘pay’ for their indiscretions in so many other ways.

Enough about that for now. Right now, back to what Kent and I are currently witnessing.

“Something’s wrong,” Kent said again. I nodded. “Something is really wrong.”

“No. No. It isn’t your fault. Some things are out of everyone’s hands. You certainly can’t control a hurricane.”

“Did he just say ‘hurricane’,” Kent whispered.

Uh oh.

There is only one hurricane currently in the news. Hurricane Damian. It is a Cat-5 off the East coast of the country. But the last I had heard, it was staying ‘off’ the coast. Right?

Logan ended the call with a ‘we’ll talk soon’ and a ‘stay safe’. He placed his cell phone on the dressing table. He stood there, his broad shoulders slightly hunched forward, his back to us, his right knee bobbing. In the next instant, he reached out and grabbed a decanter off the table and hurled it against the wall to his left.

“Really, really wrong,” I said.

Logan is intimidating. He’s 6’3+” of pure granite and yet he can be as gentle as a kitten at times. Okay, a puma cub, maybe. He is also beautiful. Dazzling green eyes that can sparkle and shine and can take you in and hold you captive with mental restraints. He can take you captive and hold you spellbound just by looking at you.

He has a puff of hair at the center of his chest and a neatly manicured bush down below that nicely compliments one of the largest cocks I have ever seen. It…is…monstrously huge. I don’t know how anyone can take it, but I have seen it done numerous times. He also has enormous balls, smooth as glass. Logan has grapefruit-size biceps and thick thighs that are so strong he could strangle a brahma bull with them if he had to. He probably has at one point or another since he grew up on a cattle ranch.

Logan inhaled deeply and made a slow pivot on his heel to face us. He just stood there silently for several long moments. The intensity of his eyes just now could strip the bark off a battleship. Okay, I’m an actor. I can take license now and then.

“Logan?”

Kent and I approached our buddy cautiously.

“What happened?”

Logan studied us for a few more seconds and exhaled a long, heavy sigh. I swear if he had anything else to grab right now Kent and I would be ducking for cover as the projectile of choice was launched through the air past our heads. Fortunately for us, and the wall behind us, there was nothing but air at arms-length of him right now.

“We just lost our celebrity sub for tonight,” Logan said in an even tone that sent a shudder down my spine.

I suddenly knew who the celebrity sub was. I did not say his name aloud but, holy shit! It couldn’t be! Could it? But, being in the Hollywood vein of things, I knew what films and shows were being shot right now. I knew who was producing, directing, the cinematographers…. Everyone. And I knew where each was taking place. I knew that there was a monster of a big-budgeted movie being filmed in New York. The celebrity was coming in from New York. ‘Was’ coming in, that is. But ‘storm’? He can’t come. Because of the storm? Yeah, it had to be. If it was who my mind had just settled on, then, yeah, holy shit! This guy ‘was’ going to be our celebrity sub? Holy shit in a bucket and…. It had to be. I knew for a fact that he was filming in New York City. But…? Oh shit. The storm. We were talking about Hurricane Damian.

It sank in fully. The celebrity. The hurricane. Did I mention, ‘holy shit!’.

“The storm?”

Logan nodded and then ran the lengthy fingers of his left hand through his short-cropped golden blond hair.

“The storm made a huge turn. The high-pressure system that had been keeping it at bay has backed off. The storm’s bearing down on the City even as we speak. There is no air traffic in or out of the area. He’s trapped there along with 19 million other people in the metropolitan area.”

“Oh shit,” Kent said softly. And, he cut right to the chase. “The Gala. It’s in,” he paused to look at his watch. “It’s in three hours and twenty-seven minutes. Where are we going to find another celebrity sub in that amount of time.”

“Fuck,” I said hoarsely. “The Center. The kids. They’re depending on that money.”

“They’re shit out of luck,” Logan snapped. The harshness of his words made our heads rock back. “We can’t have a scene with a celebrity sub if there is no celebrity sub. We’re going to have to refund all of the ticket money. Hell. All the money. This entire charity event has been geared around tonight’s ‘scene’ on the main stage. Around us dominating a ‘celebrity sub’.”

“Logan, you can’t…‘we’ can’t refund the money. Those kids are depending on us,” I argued, although at the moment, I didn’t see any other avenue than what he had just said. Refunds. A boatload of money. Just the idea of refunding it all was already making the bile rise in my gut. Well, after the huge run I had had over the last 5 years in Hollywood, I could just whip out my checkbook and write a check to cover what we would be losing out on. Of course, I had already written a check to match those written by Logan and Kent.

“Do you have any better ideas?” Logan looked at me with daggers. I didn’t take it personally. He was doing that enough for all of us. This charity event had been his idea. It was his baby. He had got it off the ground and he had been fighting for it from the moment the word hit the streets that the Center was in trouble.

“Do any of us know another celebrity-type that can be here in less than three hours who would ‘submit’ to three Alpha Top Doms in front of a crowd of 500 high-paying Gala event ticket holders?”

All three of us snorted at that. Yeah. Right. Sure. We’ll just pull out our cells and start calling and texting everyone on our contact lists.

It was more than ‘just’ the money. It was the club’s reputation. It was the BDSM Community’s reputation. It was ‘our’ reputation. We had been advertising throughout the community and especially the club’s list of ‘elite’ members for months that a well-known, word-of-mouth type of celebrity would be here for the Gala tonight. That he was going to ‘sub’ for the three of us. That the ticket holders could expect ‘to see the celebrity having his boundaries expanded beyond belief’, that the celebrity was ‘going to be fully dominated by three well known in the business Alpha Top Doms’, etc. etc.

It would be embarrassing.

It would be humiliating.

And not, the kind of humiliation you might think of inside a BDSM club….

“I don’t think we have any choice but to cancel,” Logan said flatly. He was pinching the bridge of his nose again. “It took me forever to get him to agree to this. He finally decided he was ready after I assured him that the clientele of this establishment would not ‘out’ him to the general public. We’ll never find another celebrity in three hours who will sub for us. Not a celebrity of ‘that’ caliber.”

“I’ll go find Sam,” Kent said. Sam was the managing partner of the club. “He needs to be in here and be informed what’s happened.”

Logan nodded. He inhaled deeply again and turned to head for the door with Kent.

“I’ll go find Morgan. As Chief of Security, he should hear this too…in case any hotheads get out of hand.”

I couldn’t believe I was going to do this. I was fighting hard to swallow the words before they came out of my mouth. I wasn’t going to win that fight.

“Wait. Guys. Wait,” I said with a strange tic in my voice. My voice doesn’t ‘tic’. I’m an Academy Award winning actor, dammit.

Logan and Kent paused at the door. They turned to face me, Kent’s hand still on the knob.

“We have been advertising this main event at tonight’s Gala as a celebrity sub being dominated by elite Doms.”

Kent nodded.

Logan’s head tilted.

“We can’t let those kids down, guys. We have to do whatever it takes to keep that LGBTQ+ Center’s doors open.”

Nods.

“But we’re right at the,” Kent looked at his watch again. “Exactly three hours before show time, Boone. Where are we going to find another celebrity that will let us dominate the hell out of him? In front of 500 ticket holders, plus staff?”

Logan nodded.

“Kent is right, Boone. We’re screwed. We’ll find another way to raise the money. I’ll start hitting up some of my corporate and investment account holders Monday morning.”

“I can write another check,” Kent offered.

“No,” I said as they both turned back toward the door again. “I have an idea.”

They turned back to face me—again.

“Me.”

Logan’s brow curled. Kent’s head tilted.

“You, what?”

“I’ll do it. I’ll sub for you guys.”

Kent snorted.

“The fuck?” Logan looked at me like I had lost my mind. Maybe I had. Can someone lose their mind in ‘seconds’?

“The charity event, the Gala event tonight. Everything. All the advertising. It all says that there will be a ‘scene’ tonight with elite Doms and a well-known celebrity submitting.”

“What’s your point,” Logan asked warily. Although, his mind was quickly catching up. He was about three seconds from pinning me to the wall with his fingers wrapped around my throat if I was about to suggest what he was beginning to think I was about to suggest. Heaven help me if those fingers destroyed my vocal chords now.

“My point is,” I said with a strange sense of focus suddenly blooming inside me. “My point is the kids. Through it all, the point, is ‘the kids’. The ones that Center is built for. We cannot let the kids down. Whatever it takes, the show must go on.”

“Are you saying….” Kent asked just as warily as Logan.

Yeah. I may have been more astonished than they right at that moment.

“I’m saying that I’ll sub for you guys,” I said. I astonished myself as much as I was sure I astonished them.

“Nice try, Boone,” Logan said with a snort. “You’re an Alpha Top Dom, just like me and Kent. You don’t ‘sub’. You don’t suck cock. You…don’t…get…fucked.”

“Drastic times call for drastic measures,” I said to coin a phrase. “I’ll sub for you guys.”

“Wait,” Kent sputtered. “Are you…serious?” I nodded. “Boone, you know that if we go Dom on you….” I nodded. “Holy shit, Boone!”

“We can’t let the kids down, guys,” I said. I tried to interject some reason here. I was unsure if I was interjecting for their benefit, or—mine. “We have no other options at our command right now. We have less than three hours to come up with an alternate sub. And, I’m a celebrity. I’m a celebrity in the world at large and like the two of you, I’m a celebrity in the BDSM Community—local, state, national.” I snorted. “Hell, as much as people have lusted over my ass in scenes from my movies, we might even get more donations when the ticket holders watch this ‘scene’ with you two Doms having a go at my ass.”

After a painful silence, Logan inhaled and let the air sizzle through his teeth. He shook his head in disbelief.

“Boone….”

“You and Kent are my two closest friends. My ‘best’ friends. I love you guys more than anyone else I know. I feel that I ‘know’ both of you inside and out like no other.”

“I honestly cannot tell if you are being legit with this or not,” Logan said curiously. “You ‘are’ one hell of an actor,” he added with a wry smirk. At any other time, I would have bowed at that compliment. “But I have to say once again, you’re an Alpha Top Dom. Just like me. Just like Kent. You do not ‘sub’. You do not suck dick. You…do…not…get…fucked.”

Kent stepped farther back into the room. He studied me for several long moments and then shrugged.

“He ‘is’ a celebrity. He’s the most famous actor in the world right now. He’s on every magazine cover in the world. Every ‘entertainment’ show focuses on him and his life. He’s in every society write-up. And, like he said, he’s a celebrity in the BDSM Community as well. And he does have one fine ass,” he said with a grin. “We might get huge additional donations from the ticket holders for tonight’s Gala as they stand there watching us turn that ass into a pussy cunt.”

I hope I was the only one that heard my very loud gulp just then. Yeah, I was volunteering to let these two Doms, my two best friends on the planet, turn me into a cocksucker and pussy cunt for them in front of a crowd of paying ticket holders. My two best friends with the two biggest cocks I had ever seen on two legs.

“We don’t have another choice,” I said as I looked into Logan’s eyes. “Use me. I’ll sub for you. It’s for the kids. I’ll be a sub tonight. Monday, I’ll be back to being an Alpha Top Dom like always.”

“Or,” Logan said with a sigh. “You may end up being our ravenous, hungry to serve sub with a pussy cunt from now on.”

“That’s a chance I have to take,” I said. “This isn’t about me, Logan. It’s about the kids. We need a celebrity sub for the Gala tonight. We don’t have time to go searching for a celebrity to bring in. ‘If’ we found a celebrity that would come here and offer up his ass. ‘I’ on the other hand, am already here. ‘I’ am a celebrity. I know you two. I love you two. I trust you two. We don’t have any other options here. We cannot refund all that money. We cannot start a riot out there,” I waved my hand in the direction of the rest of the club. “Let me do this. I’ll sub for the two of you.”

Logan stared at me for long seconds. He finally broke the gaze and looked at Kent. Kent shrugged.

“He ‘is’ the most famous celebrity in the world right now. And like he said, he’s already here. And he does have one hell of an ass. It will make the perfect pussy cunt. We can breed the fuck out of him in front of those ticket holders and who knows, like he said, additional donations might soar through the ceiling.”

I looked at Kent with what I thought was a bewildered expression at best. That was what, the fourth reference to my perfect ass in the last few minutes? Of course, he was right. My ass rocked it. But, still…. A moment of doubt clouded my clear thinking. Kent was also right in another respect. They would turn my ass into a pussy cunt before the ‘scene’ was through. They would fuck me. They would breed me. They would leave me dripping. All, with 500 plus witnesses cheering them on.

Logan looked back at me quizzically.

I nodded.

“Dom the fuck out of me.”

END of Chapter 1

To be continued . . .

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