St. Andrew’s Cross

This is a true story from the Bournemouth gay sauna-bar at its old location, when it had a dedicated playroom. Locals will know what I mean.

The sauna-bar was huge. Half of it consisted of showers, saunas, hot-tubs and the like. Separated by a bar in the middle, the other half was a dark labyrinth of rooms. Some were private, some had mirrored windows and some contained toys.

At the very back of this maze through a barred door was a bondage playroom replete with a lovely assortment of equipment. I’ve had many adventures in that place, but this was my favorite.

In a dark corner of the playroom lived a sturdy wooden X-shaped St. Andrew’s cross. It was heavy and intimidating, with a complex array of straps and buckles dangling from its matte black bulk. Visible to the whole room, it set the tone for the entire area. Amazingly, it was never occupied. One day, I decided to change that.

Before my next visit to the sauna-bar, I bought a blindfold and a piece of underwear made from leather straps that came with an accompanying metal cock ring. I nervously made my way there early in order to arrive before it got busy; so early that I was the first customer of the evening.

After a shower and a nerve settling drink at the bar, I headed to the playroom. I prepared myself by squeezing into the new cock ring and leather straps that counted as underwear, then rubbed some lube into my anus. Finally, I hid my towel in the corner behind the huge cross and stood on its foot-boards facing outwards. My heart pounded in my chest and my rock hard cock pulsed with it.

Working my way up my body, I snugly fastened straps across my ankles, calves, thighs and one across my belly. I prepared the left wrist cuff, then fastened the neck collar, my right upper arm and right wrist. I lowered my blindfold, pushed my left hand through the cuff that I’d prepared and waited, figuring I could always reverse the process if necessary.

Time lost all meaning. I don’t know if I waited for a minute or an hour for something to happen. I was aroused yet scared, and often wondered if I just should play it safe and release myself. Of course, there was no real choice; I’d been dreaming about this moment for days.

While my hard-on was fit to burst I could hear the distant sounds of lively customers in the bar. Eventually I heard a pair of bare feet approach then a guy murmured to himself “Well well well… Let me check those straps.”

His hand first stroked gently along my cock then pulled it down against its erection uncomfortably. A sigh escaped my lips which were quickly sealed by his tongue thrusting deep into my mouth. He was forceful, and I became very aware that this situation was no longer in my control. He pulled away and fully tightened every strap in turn. My sole means of escape was taken when he secured my left wrist. He pushed fingers into my mouth then into my anus and whispered hoarsely into my ear “You can wait a bit longer I think.”

After making sure my blindfold was seated properly, he briefly placed a hand on my neck and left. I heard his bare feet recede followed by the door to the bar closing farther away.

At this point, I was very securely fastened at every movable point of my body in the corner of a gay bondage playroom with no means of escape. A little panic arose and I questioned what the hell I was doing, but my erection betrayed me. Despite my fear, I was in heaven. I never knew that anticipation could be so erotic.

Suddenly, someone grunted close by and I felt warm wet splashes over my cock and thighs. Someone had cum on me. I hadn’t even realized that anyone was in the same room. Without my knowledge, I had been someone’s live porn to masturbate over. Being exhibitionist is my biggest turn-on, so this compliment splashed over my skin nearly brought me to an orgasm of my own. To this day, I wonder why he never touched me. Perhaps he enjoyed the freedom to look as closely as he liked for as long as he liked without pressure. I’ll never know. He must have left as quietly as he entered because I couldn’t tell when I became alone again.

As more time passed I heard the bar filling up in the near distance. It was getting very busy in there! The atmosphere sounded happy and lively, as though plenty of drinks were being consumed. It was only a matter of time before I would be at the mercy of a crowd of slightly intoxicated, fiercely randy men.

I heard the bar door open few times and guys chatting. I knew people were coming. As they entered the playroom there were many giggles and exclamations of pleasant surprise. Some talked about me as though I were an inanimate object, with comments like “Its got a nice cock,” “Its a bit skinny for my tastes” and “I might have a fuck on that in a bit.”

Without warning, I felt a warm wet mouth around my cock which caused me to groan out loud. I was immediately silenced by fingers forced into my mouth and a hand on my throat. As I greedily sucked those fingers, a mouth on each nipple made it clear that I’d become a public plaything.

The play got rougher. My nipples were pulled and tweaked, my cock and balls pulled in directions they didn’t want to go. The most sensitive parts of my anatomy were alternately tortured and pleasured. Tongues were pushed deep into my mouth, more fingers rammed into my anus. My legs, body and occasionally my face were repeatedly slapped. My armpits and feet were tickled without mercy. My ears were licked while other hands stroked my hair or gently squeezed my neck. Even my fingers and toes were nibbled and caressed. I don’t think a single piece of skin went untouched. This was more erotic than my deepest fantasies.

Something big was firmly pushed into my anus and started vibrating. I can only assume it was a butt-plug. I felt my orgasm rising when somebody said “Don’t make it cum.”

The risk of orgasm passed as the butt plug’s vibrations slowed to a low hum. The hands and mouths on my body backed off slightly for a moment, too.

I was given a clue what was coming next when a husky voice whispered closely into my ear “Don’t worry. I’m putting a condom on you.”

I felt a condom being rolled down my hard cock and lube being applied. I felt a pressure against the head then a warm tightness as one of the crowd carefully impaled himself on me. He carefully pushed back and forth bit by bit until I was deep inside of him. He rocked against me for a long time while my teasing and torture barely abated. Eventually, he came very loudly and slid himself off. I felt my condom being changed and a new guy slid himself on.

This went on for ages. I don’t know how many guys I was made to fuck, but each time I approached orgasm, it was the next one’s turn. I lost all sense of space and time, and just became a nerve center of sexual pleasure and pain. Many details of the encounter are lost to me because I was so deeply immersed in the sensory overload.

The number of hands and tongues on my body thinned out as more of the guys squirted their sexual frustration away. Much of it landed on me, for which I was most grateful. Eventually, the last guy took his pleasure then left me pretty much as I started. Again, I was alone, slightly scared, blindfold, strapped to a cross with a pulsing erection, unable to pleasure myself or move.

After what seemed like an eternity, someone took pity on me. A slow, gentle, but determined mouth soon brought me to an insanely powerful orgasm. Every drop of cum I had to offer was swallowed and I almost passed out. When I became aware again, one arm had been unstrapped. From there, I was able to remove my blindfold and release the rest of my restraints.

My towel had disappeared from its hiding place behind the cross. This meant I had to walk back through the bar area naked and covered in a sizable amount of cum. Plenty of smiles greeted me, so I drank a beer while sticky. As I looked around the room, I realized that I had no idea how many of them I’d fucked. I didn’t even know which one had finally sucked me off. This thought was so erotic that my cock soon popped up again.

Everyone else was wearing a towel, as it was conventional to do so in the bar area for some odd reason. All this convention did for me was to heighten my awareness of my own nudity. This turned me on even more so I leaned back against the bar and quickly brought myself off while the rest of the room and bar staff watched appreciatively.

Satisfied, I showered, changed and went home in a daze. It was difficult to sleep that night; I had to masturbate many times before dawn.

I repeated this many times before the sauna-bar eventually moved to a smaller location. I hope to find somewhere to do it again one day.

Comments

No comments yet. Why don’t you start the discussion?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *