Slings and Shackles

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.

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Chapter 9

After several moments of deafening cheers and applause resounding around the room, Master Longmont took a moment to look first in Master Kent’s direction. He blushed almost cherubically when Master Kent grinned and shot him a wink of silent ovation. He reached up to swipe the streams of sweat from his face before he turned his head in Master Logan’s direction.

“Well, done,” Master Logan said as he took in the sight before him. The ‘new’ Kelly Longmont was impressing the fuck out of him just now. Sweat coated Kelly’s body. He was drenched in it. He was still taking in raspy gasps of air in his attempt to get his breathing under control. His thick cock still throbbed post-explosive orgasm. He grinned—at first, sheepish and then triumphant.

Master Logan gazed downward from Master Longmont’s handsome face and across his heaving chest and rippling abs to take in his deflating but still impressive chunk of meat. “Well, done indeed.”

“Your turn,” Master Kent said.

“Later,” Master Logan replied. He caught the quizzical look Master Kent and Master Longmont both shot his way. “My cock will be in his mouth soon. But we’ve got this audience worked into a frenzy. They’re throwing more cash and checks and charge slips into the donation plates that are floating around the room,” he informed them and tilted his head toward the audience. “We need to keep feeding that rabid hunger for more.”

“What do you suggest,” Master Kent asked.

“Get him in the harness sling. It’s time to officially pop his cherry and fuck the living daylights out of him.”

He motioned to a couple of stagehands clad in nothing but black shorts and black tennis shoes just out of sight and pointed upward toward the harness sling that dangled close to the ceiling. They nodded their understanding and soon, it was slowly lowering toward the stage, right up front and center.

The crowd sensed what was coming and chorused ‘fuck him!’, ‘fuck him!’, ‘fuck him!’.

And that is exactly the frenzied, rabid response that Master Logan was talking about. They wanted to watch my continued dethronement from Alpha Top Dom to cock hungry submissive.

The leashes were pulled taut, and my three best and closest friends—suddenly my ‘Doms’—began to escort me toward the front of the stage. My eyes went wide at the sight of the harness sling as it was lowering in front of us. Not just ‘any’ harness sling, mind you. ‘This’ harness sling was a contraption that ‘I’ had actually designed and built to ‘my’ specifications with a few significant modifications. I had it rigged there in The Arena for a ‘special’ scene that I planned to hold—with my number one submissive strapped and locked into it. My number one submissive—Kelly Longmont.

Now, ‘I’ was going to take my place in ‘my’ specially designed harness sling and ‘I’ was going to take it for its virgin debut. Its virgin debut and ‘my’ virgin cherry destruction.

Just as we arrived center stage, the harness sling reached a point where it was just a few feet above the stage floor. Master Logan’s hand shot out for the stagehands to pause the downward path and it immediately stopped—swaying slightly like the pendulum in a grandfather clock.

My brain swirled as it locked onto the knowledge of what was about to happen.

‘This is it’, I silently told myself. I acknowledged it. ‘This is it’, I repeated that silent comment to myself to be sure I got it. I accepted it.

I was about to be fucked into a submissive pussyboy.

Ironic. Isn’t it? My three best friends prepared to cap off the annihilation of my Dom status by popping my cherry and turning me into their pussyboy—and they were going to do it in a harness sling that I designed and built with the purpose of breaking it in with Kelly Longmont, my submissive, being cuffed and strapped into its maw.

The din from the crowd of ticketholders was growing more frenzied and rabid by the minute. They were hell bent on witnessing my conversion from Alpha Top Dom to submissive pussyboy.

As we stood there for a moment, crazy, I know—but even though ‘my’ harness sling was about to be a major player against ‘me’ I could not help but feel a sense of pride. The contraption was exuding strength. It was strong. Powerful. Unyielding. Intimidating. Quite honestly, it was rather mesmerizing. It left me slightly breathless and awed.

I took a moment to gaze out into the crowd gathered there in The Arena. Because of the dimness beyond the first few rows of humanity, I could only make out shapes more than anything specific. In the location where I had seen Kelly Longmont earlier, before he came up on stage and turned me into his cocksucker, I now saw another familiar face. I made a silent gulp. Anxiety. Nerves. Embarrassment. Hunger?

Simon O’Connor stood there staring up to the stage just as everyone else.

Simon and Logan were sort of like Kelly and me. They had grown up together. They had been best of friends for many years before Simon just ‘disappeared’ for several years. His father, Sheriff Jaxon O’Connor had been very tight lipped about Simon’s location. It wasn’t until several years later that Logan was able to find out that Simon was in the military—he was a member of a SEALs team and was stationed aboard an aircraft carrier somewhere near one of the numerous battle zones.

And then, Sheriff O’Connor was hit with a massive coronary followed by a stroke which left him less than fully functional. He would not be able to run for reelection the next year. No one is sure who made the move, the District Clerk and her office staff claimed to know nothing but accepted it anyway—Simon’s name was included in the election paperwork and his name was on the ballot.

United States Navy SEALs member, Simon O’Connor received 99% of the vote even though he was on the other side of the world.

Simon was about to re-enlist when he got the news from his commander and was told he would be a fool to turn down such a huge show of support from the voters of his county back home. A month later, Simon O’Connor was home being sworn in as the newly-elected Sheriff of Cracked Hoof County. After the swearing in, Jaxon O’Connor shook hands with his son, he gave him a hug and said he was sorry for being such an ass, for whatever it was that had caused the estrangement between them.

A week later, Sheriff Simon O’Connor stood graveside and said goodbye to his father.

And now, here he was, in The Arena inside the private BDSM club, Slings and Shackles and he was watching his childhood best friend go completely ‘Dom’-mode on my ass. My ass that was soon to be my pussy. I gulped again. I heard the gulp but I was unsure if anyone else did. He caught my gaze. He smirked. And he shot a wink. No way! Simon O’Connor winked? At me?

Simon O’Connor was hot. Hot. As. Fuck. If this went as far south as it could, and I was beginning to think probably would, one could only hope that Simon O’Connor was an Alpha Top Dom who knew how to use what was showing very exuberantly in the front of his desert sand-colored slacks.

There were a few other things that I wondered about in those few moments. Did Logan know that Simon was here in The Arena? Did Logan know that Simon might be gay since he was here in The Arena? If he knew that Simon was here, why didn’t Logan say anything? And of course, several other thoughts whirled in my foggy brain each time I glanced back down at that incredible bulge in his slacks. I’m sure you get my drift.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah.

Master Kent and Master Logan grabbed me by my arms and legs and with a ‘one’, ‘two’, ‘three’, lifted me up and dumped me into the cradle of the beast. They were immediately joined by Master Longmont to begin securing my ankles and wrists in padded leather cuffs. Master Kent followed direction from Master Logan and he grabbed a remote device that dangled from one of the chains and pressed a button. Immediately my legs began spreading outward—opening me up for easy access to my butt and soon-to-be pussy.

While Master Kent was spreading me open, Master Logan began fastening the harness straps around my chest, abdomen, and thighs. I broke one of the rules of submission and looked into his eyes as he was fastening me into the sling. His eyes were stern, brimming with concentration…masterful…as he tested each strap and insured that I wasn’t going anywhere.

The moment I realized what I had done, I diverted my eyes. I hoped that I had not been caught in my infraction. Master Logan said nothing for several moments while he double-checked my shackles. That gave me the opportunity to examine him. Examine him in a way that I had never done during the years of our friendship. Not even during times that we had shared a Dom experience with a sub being used by the both of us.

He is a handsome man. As I mentioned some time back, Master Logan is slightly more than 6’3”. He is beautifully proportioned. Muscular but not over the top. As he worked the straps, his muscles flexed and moved like finely tuned machine parts. Veins popped. Sweat streamed down the sides of his face and dripped down his arms and chest. His abs rolled and ebbed with each movement.

“How ironic is it,” he said finally—his voice came barely above a whisper but powerful and masterful. It actually made me shiver to hear it. “That you are being locked into a harness sling that ‘you’ designed and built to use on ‘your’ submissive.” He paused to chuckle sarcastically and then motioned for Master Longmont to re-check one of the straps on his side of the sling. “And now, the sling that ‘you’ designed is going to play such an important role in the complete destruction of your cherry. That while you are strapped in it, your three closest friends will be working together to pound your new pussy into existence.”

He moved on to re-check my leg restraints, my ankle cuffs, and he let his fingers trail up my legs and thighs and they paused on the cage that so fully encased my junk. What was left of it anyway. After having sent dozens upon dozens of electro-bolts through it over the course of the evening I wondered if they actually ‘had’ castrated me at this point. His fingers continued their trek up over my spasming six-pack and over the leather restraint that snugly fit my pecs—my nipples peeked through openings and he took a moment to pinch and twist them both.

Master Logan was again standing there, looking down at me—trussed up in my own harness sling, as it were—and then he reached across my torso to check that my right wrist was not being cut into as a result of angles and weight and anything else. This move placed his sweat dripping pit within an inch of my face. Unable to control myself, I inhaled deeply, taking in his scents. I must have whimpered softly because he chuckled and paused to let me inhale again if I chose. I did. Three more times.

“Good boy,” he said with another chuckle. “Don’t worry. You are going to have plenty of opportunity from now on to breathe in the essences of a Dom. Or, in this case—Doms.”

Even as my eyes rolled back and I absorbed those pit scents, my swirling mind wrapped loosely around that comment. ‘Plenty of time from now on to breathe in our essences’? He meant ‘tonight’ I assured myself. Come Monday I was not going to be in this position—on the receiving end of REAL MEN’s COCKS, again. Somehow that reasoning on my part seemed to have slightly less conviction than it had when I proposed this arrangement to save face for our charity fundraiser.

“And yes, I caught that eye contact a minute ago,” Master Logan said with a sneer. “Considering what you are about to go through at the hands, or should I say—our REAL MEN’s COCKs, I will let that infraction slide.” I let a breath of relief escape my lips upon hearing that tidbit of good news; another thing that he caught. “But rest assured, there will be more opportunities for that cage to send lightning bolts through your clit and sack.”

Master Logan stepped away and then he motioned for Master Kent and Master Longmont to join him several feet away. I could barely see them out of the corner of my eye. They were in a tight circle, deep in conversation. Did I ‘actually’ catch them going through the motions of ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors’? Maybe I did, considering the laughter that rippled through the crowd.

Seriously? My cherry’s destruction was being reduced to the outcome of a children’s game?

Apparently, it was.

The tight little circle broke up moments later and my three friends strode back in my direction. Master Kent moved to the right side of the harness sling, and—me, of course. Master Logan took his place on the left side of the harness sling, and—me, of course. And Master Longmont? He stepped between my legs and moved up to the edge of the harness sling, and—my waiting soon-to-be pussy.

WTF! WTF! W…T…F! My former sub, Kelly Longmont was going to take my cherry? He was going to be the ‘first’ to fuck my…?

To add to my ‘WTF-edness (yeah, my word. But I am the one relating all of this to you so I can still go with literary license), a monitor was slipped over my head and buds plugged into my ears. The monitor resembled one that you would typically use for a virtual reality moment. The monitor in place, I was plunged into darkness. Needless to say, my anxiety level began to rise.

“Easy, boy,” Master Kent’s voice came through the ear buds. “Easy. Breathe and relax. Since this is your cherry pulverization party,” he paused to snicker sarcastically. “And, your pussy drilling party, we decided you should have the opportunity to have a full-on view of a REAL MAN’s COCK plunging into your hole and taking that cherry and then three REAL MEN’s COCKS following one after the other during the conversion of your hole to that pussy.”

“You’ll get to watch and listen to the whole fucking hot scene right along with all of these hundreds of guests. You’ll get to hear ever squish and moan. You’ll get to see every plunge and thrust into you, those cocks spreading your pussy lips open. You’ll get to witness it all as the three of us take turns breeding you. You will get to watch your entire submission as you go from Alpha Top Dom to submissive pussyboy.” He paused and I heard a muffled comment from someone else. “Oh, and of course, you’ll get to hear this crowd’s approval of the entire scene as it takes place.”

Moments later, the monitor came alive with views of my upturned ass and my hole—still stuffed with that bejeweled plug. I garbled a protest around the ball gag that I only then realized had been placed back into my mouth at some point.

“Easy, boy. Easy,” Master Kent’s voice came through the ear buds once more. “Remember, you told us to pull out all the stops for the sake of the LGBTQ+ Center. You told us to not hold back with anything.”

Okay. Yes. I ‘did’ say that, but really…?. This was the time that they collectively chose to listen to me. Seriously?

Moments later, long, powerful fingers came into view and reached for that butt plug. They connected, made a firm grip of it and began corkscrewing it as they tugged, tugged, tugged. I let out whimpers and moans.

“Easy, boy,” Master Kent’s voice sounded in my ears. “Deep breath and push out like you’re pooping.” More corkscrewing. More tugs. More whimpers and moans. “Again, boy. Deep breath and push out. Keep pushing.” I inhaled enough oxygen to explode my lungs under any other circumstance and I pushed like I was giving birth—although I had no previous experience in giving birth. “That’s it, boy. That’s it. Almost there. And….”

Plop. A very loud plop.

The huge butt plug exited my hole.

I saw the entire length and width…it’s total girth as it slid out of my stretched hole one inch after the other. I thought I was going to pass out but I was so fascinated by the sight of that behemoth exiting my hole that I had to see it through to the end.

I was astounded. ‘That’ had been buried inside my butt?

I was even more astounded. My hole instantly felt very empty.

It didn’t take long before Master Longmont’s huge, thick 9.5+” cock came into view. It was lubed up as I watched and then I watched as the thick, bulbous head was pressed against my opening.

This was it.

“Do you remember that first time that you fucked me?” This was Master Longmont’s voice coming through the ear buds. “Do you remember how you lubed up and then simply plunged in? Of course, I had told you to. But that is neither here nor there. You plunged the entire length of your ‘then’ REAL MAN’s COCK deep into me. Of course, when we’re done with you, there will be no REAL MAN’s COCK between your legs; you’ll just have an adorable but useless boyclit in its place. A boyclit for a pussyboy that you are about to become.”

I swallowed hard. Yes. I did remember that. I ‘did’ plunge my full length into him. He ‘had’ told me to, though. I’m not sure I would say the same thing under the circumstances. Under these circumstances. But, ball gag in place, I didn’t much have that opportunity.

“Well, boy,” Master Longmont said as he rubbed his cock head up and down my crack before pressing it again to my waiting hole. “I think turnabout is fair play, don’t you?”

Before I could even attempt a muffled, garbled response, Master Longmont’s hips snapped forward and he plunged the entire length of his sizeable cock—his REAL MAN’s COCK—to the hilt. He didn’t stop the plunge until his balls slapped against my upturned butt cheeks. And, they were right, I could hear the roar of the crowd’s approval of what had just taken place.

In that one powerful snap of his hips, Master Longmont had breached my sphincter, he had broken my defenses, and he had plunged deep into my hole. My former submissive had just popped my cherry.

“Easy, boy,” Master Longmont grunted into my ears. “Open up for it. Open up for it.”

I felt him pull out to the tip and then plunge in again, just as hard. He snapped his hips forward and impaled me again. He pulled back and he thrust forward. Again. And again. And…again.

Jeez, my former submissive had just turned me into his pussyboy. And my two closest friends were waiting their turn.

I let out a moan. Lots of them. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! His REAL MAN’s COCK was drilling my hole into a pussy. I was becoming his pussyboy with every thrust of that huge cock. And…I…was…moaning. I was watching it all through the monitor over my eyes. And…I…was…moaning like a bitch. He was owning me. He was totally owning me. Every thrust was eradicating whatever particles of the old Dom part of me that could still be seen below the bottom rung of that ladder and they were blowing them completely out of sight along with the dust of my pulverized cherry.

‘Fuck me,’ I heard myself moaning. No one else could hear it because of the ball gag. But I could hear it. I was begging Master Longmont to fuck me. To fuck my new pussy. ‘Fuck me.’ ‘Fuck me.’ ‘Fuck…me’.

“Feel that, boy,” Master Logan’s voice came through the earbuds. “Feel that? Your cherry is already history. Your pussy is under construction. That REAL MAN’s COCK is fucking you over the edge of the cliff and you’re never coming back. Your Dom days are history, boy. Your pussyboy days are rising up and slapping you in the face.”

For emphasis, somebody slapped my face several times.

Master Longmont paused with a withdrawal and ripped open that finely tailored silk shirt. Buttons went flying and then he swiftly peeled it off his body. Suddenly, the monitor was filled with the sight of his beautifully sculpted pecs, his nipples standing up hard and proud from the sweat-drenched skin of his chest. Sweat skated down his abs and into the trail of hair between his navel and his crotch. His throbbing cock glistened. His…throbbing…cock. His REAL MAN’s COCK. And he snapped his hips forward, his cock impaled me again. And again. And again.

I lost sight of the vision coming through that monitor for a long moment as my eyes rolled up somewhere into the recesses of my skull. My body was strapped so tightly into that harness sling that the only part of me that was moving was my head as it lolled from one side to the other, my caged clit bounced back and forth, my toes curled and uncurled and curled once again, my abs rolled and twitched with every thrust and gasp for air. And the lips of my newly drilled pussy spread open and clenched shut with every plunge and every withdrawal.

“That’s it, pussyboy,” Master Longmont gasped out. He increased the power of his thrusts. It felt like my eyeballs were bouncing around as if they were being smacked around on a pool table. “Take it, pussyboy. Good, pussyboy. Open up for this REAL MAN’s COCK and take it. Open up and take it as it drills your pussy into place.”

Where he got this power, this strength, I have no idea—but with every thrust that jarring fuck he threw into me seemed to increase ten-fold. If I hadn’t been harnessed into the sling, I think he would have fucked me out the other side and I would have tumbled across the stage.

“You ready, pussyboy,” Master Longmont gasped into my ears. “You ready for your new pussy to get bred?”

Yes. Oh…fuck…yes, I was ready. I was so ready. I just couldn’t say it aloud because of the ball gag still in my mouth. Until it wasn’t. A hand grabbed it and yanked it from my mouth—nearly taking my teeth with it—and I gasped out.

“Yes, Master. Breed me. Fuck, yes. Breed me.”

I could hear Master Longmont chuckling. I could hear Master Kent and Master Logan. I could hear the crowd’s roar.

“Good, boy. Good, pussyboy,” Master Longmont grunted out as he took the last few plunges before he did just what he said. “Here…it…comes!”

And his thick, throbbing, Alpha Top Dom REAL MAN’s COCK made one, final plunge into my pussy and then it exploded deep inside me. I could actually ‘feel’ it spewing and pumping inside me. I could feel it throb and pulse inside me. I could feel it ‘own’ me—breed me.

As he continued to breed my newly excavated pussy, my mind’s eye searched the murky darkness beneath that ladder into Hell. Or whatever it was. The very last dust particles of my Dom-existence were gone. Totally. Completely. Gone.

I was becoming a complete, total, 100% cocksucker. I now had a thoroughly cherry-popped and fucked and bred pussy. I was a pussyboy. Even more? I had been cherry-popped, fucked and bred by my former ‘submissive’. He was turning me into a cocksucker and a pussyboy.

No. That isn’t quite right.

I have become a cocksucker.

I have become a pussyboy.

A thought was growing more prominent in my swirling brain.

‘I’m toast.’

END of Chapter 9

To be continued . . .

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