Strip-Club Slaveboy by Master Ivan

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mrivan
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Strip-Club Slaveboy by Master Ivan

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Strip-Club Slaveboy

by Master Ivan, writing as “mip”




I enjoyed the club.

It was a sleazy looking place....a Motel combined with a small restaurant/pool room, and there was a bar featuring dancers. It was in the middle of the food warehouse district and was usually frequented by truckers. Still, it was friendly and safe. The drinks were cheaper than at the other strip clubs in the area, the crowd in attendance was usually peaceful, and there were no bouncers waiting to put the wrench to you if you didn’t buy a drink every ten minutes.

There was a good variety of girls there too. Every race was represented, with sizes ranging from petite to chunky, personalities from vanilla to overtly kinky. And I had developed some friendships with several of the kinkier ladies. So whenever my work left me idle, I would drift in there, buy a beer and enjoy the sights.

There was always something nice about a girl who could wave her exposed pussy in your face from a distance of less than six inches. They understood their role, a commanding one, which allowed them to tease and play off the chemistry between them and their audience so as to leave everyone aroused and smiling. Many times, I would express my appreciation to the dancers, sometimes with lines like “As long as I have a face, you’ll always have a place to sit”. Little did I know at the time...

Between sets, the girls would circulate among the patrons, in hopes of soliciting a table dance, or at least in an effort to keep people aroused. They were quite skilled in cultivating their appearance to turn the guys on, each playing off their best assets. Sometimes the girls on the floor drew the eye more than the ones dancing. I often talked with several of them, sometimes exchanging fantasies with them, or joking about things like rope and handcuffs. Some of them simply played up to me, while others avoided such subjects. A few of them responded, sharing some of those fantasies.

Cecelia was one of the latter. A petite, dark-skinned black girl, she found herself getting aroused at such talk. Another was TJ, a thin white girl with strong tastes for dominance and submission. I once asked her what she’d do if I put up a pair of clothespins on the bar for her instead of a dollar bill. She laughed and said she’d probably put them on her nipples.

One night, I was sitting at a table away from the bar, and I had the opportunity to talk with both of them together. I complimented them on their performances, and I noted a couple of others who also had me hot watching them. I made the offer, jokingly, that if either of them were ever turned on themselves from performing and wanted some oral service to take the edge off things, I would be happy to comply, no reciprocation required.

To my surprise, both of them looked at me and, with a smile, said “We might just take you up on that.”

I had become a regular there. The girls knew me to be honest, not the kind of guy willing to try anything to get in their panties. They knew from my talking that my interest in kink was more than casual. And I knew that they appeared to be taking my offer seriously.

Still, it was a surprise one evening when TJ, several minutes after her set had ended, appeared by my seat and asked, “Care to make good on your offer?”

I looked up, momentarily puzzled, then saw the fire in her eyes. I knew she was highly aroused, and I understood exactly what she wanted. My erection became rock-hard in seconds. She saw it through my pants and smiled. I felt the brief embarrassment, knew the roles had been reversed in the exchange, felt the vulnerability of being the sex object for a hungry woman.

I stumbled over my words, but managed to get out, “Of course. What did you have in mind?”

She simply smiled, and said, “I was just in the mood to get a little bit of tongue in the back room, and wondered if your offer was still good?”

I smiled back, and said, “Lead the way!”

She led me past the hotel desk into a storage area, then to a walk-in closet. The place was poorly lit, dingy, with a floor that needed some cleaning. On the way, she admonished me, “Remember your offer. You said ‘’No reciprocation’, and I intend to hold you to that.”

My arousal climbed up a couple of notches. I knew I would be pleasing her orally, and I would get nothing back to satisfy my own needs.

We entered the closet and closed the door. She instructed me “Kneel down!”, and I obeyed, ignoring the condition of the floor that I knew would soil the knees of my pants. She continued, “Put your hands in your back pockets. Leave them there. I don’t want you tempted to cheat on your promise.” I obeyed, feeling my pants tighten around my swollen cock and balls as I did so.

She stood before me, inches away, and raised the skirt that was short enough to be mistaken for a belt. She didn’t have to raise it far to reveal her neatly trimmed bush. I could smell her arousal as one of her hands gently urged my face in closer. My lips touched her, and I felt the thrill course thru her as I kissed her cuntlips and began to run my tongue along their outer edges. She moaned deeply and pulled me in harder.

I moaned myself, feeling my arousal growing painful as I thrust my tongue between her lips and began to taste her juices. I licked carefully, probing with my tongue, seeking out her clitoris. With a hand in my hair to guide me, I was soon licking her there, butterflying her with light, rapid touches to the tip of her clit. Her arousal climbed rapidly until, perhaps ten minutes after we started, she screamed out a major orgasm.

The flow of juices turned into a flood. She held me brutally tight, smothering me, her hands in my hair forcing my lips and tongue to all the right places, then making me swallow the flood of juice I had created. At one point, one of my hands moved out of its pocket. She saw it instantly and ordered, “Back in the pocket!” I moaned, and kept on licking.

Eventually, TJ finished a most enthusiastic orgasm, and I finished cleaning her of all traces of her juices. My own face was wet, and I made a move to pick up a napkin to wipe away what I could not reach with my tongue. She smiled, and said, “Really now...I thought you liked the taste of my juices!” I put down the napkin and soon returned to the bar with my face still wet.

For the rest of that evening, I sat rock hard, still watching the dancers at close range, the tastes and smells of TJ’s juices keeping me up thruout. It wasn’t until hours later when I returned home that I finally took care of my own pressing needs and went to bed. I didn’t wash my face until the next morning.

It was a couple days later before I could make it in to the club again. Cecelia did a set shortly after I arrived, and she focused a good deal of her dancing on me, waving her cunt in my face until I could see the wetness there at close range. She came to me at the bar and asked, “Would you be kind enough to join me?” I smiled and said, “Of course”, thinking she meant at a table. She led me straight out to the back room.

“I heard your services were quite acceptable the other night.”

I smiled, “Thank you. I enjoyed providing them.”

“Unfortunately, I also heard you removed one hand from your pocket while you served...”

I looked back, guiltily.

“We must not allow you to break your promise. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind having your hands tied until we finish?”

My arousal skyrocketed as I fell immediately into the submissive role she was creating for me. She quickly produced a short length of rope and, bringing my wrists together palm to palm, bound them tightly. I would not be freeing myself.

I dropped to my knees on the soiled floor. She thrust her shaved cunt into my face and I began to work.

Her odors and tastes were different, somewhat more musky than the white dancer I had serviced two days earlier. She also preferred deeper tongue inside her vagina, and her juices flowed like a river over my tongue and into my mouth. She held me tight thruout, and my jaw ached before I finished. My balls were aching, and my cock remained hard as a rock as I tried to do my best to please her, pulling at my bound wrists constantly. It must have taken her a good twenty minutes to have a couple of major orgasms, and my shirt collar was wet by the time she finished using me.

Over the next several weeks, Cecelia and TJ used me regularly. If they were working the night I came in, I could count on being called to the back room at least once for each of them. Soon, word seemed to have gotten out among the other girls as, one night, a black dancer named Dalia came to me at the bar.

She had the largest and most perfect chest in the club, and in spite of being in the chunky category, was a pleasure to watch on stage. When she came to my seat, I was taken back a bit, and she made her request simple: “I need a bit of that white tongue out back...”

I followed her submissively, and soon found myself kneeling on that floor again, wrists bound tightly behind my back. Yes, word had indeed gotten out.

She finished in ten minutes. I panicked briefly as she simply walked out of the room without untying me, until, moments later, TJ walked in. She briefly complimented me on the quality of service rendered to Dalia, then used me herself before untying me. Now, I knew that any dancer in the club might use me at any time.

More and more frequently over the next week or so, a growing number of dancers would issue the summons. It got to the point where perhaps half of the dancers there had used me, some becoming regulars. Unfortunately, the movement in and out of the back room was becoming tedious for them, and they needed a change.

TJ had a long talk with me late one evening about the problem. “We need something a lot more convenient. Also, there are times when we’re dancing when we need a quick pick-me-up. So we have decided the best thing would be to have you available right in the little room offstage where we go between numbers to change music and costumes.”

“Sounds good to me. It would be closer, and save us all the walk.”

“Yes. But we can’t have you walking in and out of there all night. Other customers would have a problem if they couldn’t follow you there. So what we need is something with a little more commitment.”

I felt a wave rushing thru me at mention of the word commitment. They did indeed want something more of me, and I wasn’t sure whether it was fear or arousal that drove me on.

“Tell me more.”

“You would have to report to that room and do a full shift. You would be bound there and service all the dancers who wanted to use you for the duration.”

I felt the thrill of helplessness creeping over me, and I looked into TJ’s eyes as she saw the effect the idea had on me. Her eyes drifted lower and noted my erection, again hard and trying to tear through the front of my pants. She smiled, knowing I would submit. She reached down with one hand and gave my balls a squeeze, to which I moaned deeply. She then said “Six PM”, and vanished.

She didn’t even tell me when the shift ended. I presumed it would be until closing, at one in the morning, which meant I might be bound there for seven hours. I showed up at quarter to six, enjoyed one beer before I had to begin work and wondered just what I was getting myself into.

Cecelia and Dalia met me and escorted me back. There was one other girl there getting ready for her set, with still another on stage at that moment. There was also a padded bench in the room, one I noted ominously was equipped with straps in strategic locations.

“Strip!” Dalia’s command was unexpected, but I found myself moving to obey her instantly as three other women looked on watching. Soon, I was naked, my hardness waving in the air. Dalia took my clothes out of the room.

TJ entered at that point, looking and smiling at my exposure. She produced a leather object that looked a bit like a jockstrap, but with a great deal more in the way of security. She began strapping me into it, saying, “We can’t have that thing getting in the way all night. After all, it has no part in our agreement, does it?”

I shook my head in a “No”, shuddering as she packed my rock-hard cock inside the device. Soon, it was not only tightened, compressing my cock painfully, but it was locked with three padlocks. TJ held the keys, as she smiled and said, “That should keep things secure for the night.”

They laid me down on the bench, lengthwise. Soon, straps held my wrists and ankles to the bench, and other straps crossed my body from my knees all the way to my shoulders, every six inches. I could not move a muscle. To my dismay, there was even a strap across my forehead, one which would allow absolutely no movement of my head. I would not be avoiding my duty tonight. Cecelia also showed me a leather blindfold. “Some of the girls are discreet, and don’t want you seeing them back here. Of course, you don’t have to see anything to do your job, do you....”

I couldn’t even nod. I only uttered a “N-no...” as I felt my cock continuing to struggle inside its confinement.

TJ had this look she often used with me when she danced. It was aggressive, challenging, teasing, a look which invariably got me rock hard and ready to do anything she wanted. She used that look on me now as she stood close, then moved to straddle my face. I could only look up into her wet cunt as she slowly lowered herself onto my helpless mouth.

I obediently extended my tongue and began to lick as she ground her cunt hard onto my mouth. I was positioned ideally to give them pleasure, and they didn’t even need my active participation. When my tongue tired, they could simply grind themselves to orgasm on my face. TJ took a bit over five minutes using me, followed in quick succession by Cecelia and then Dalia.

The girl who had been preparing for her dance then straddled me. She was Hispanic, which I only realized when she spoke to me. “Just lick me a little now to get me wet...the guys like that...you can finish me later.” I complied.

Each set was twenty minutes long. At the end of each song, the girl would come into the room, change CD’s, change what little costume she wore, then come to my face for a minute or less of stimulation. As the set ended and the next girl went onstage, the previous girl would then ride me to a major orgasm, taking five to ten minutes on the average. In addition, many of the girls popped into the room to fix makeup, change clothes, talk with other dancers and use my face. I served for the full seven hours, and my face was in use almost continuously.

At one AM, the bar closed. There were still about eight girls remaining there, including the last dancer. They came to the room to resume their street clothes, and all of them in turn used my mouth for a last pleasure before they left. It must have been close to one thirty before I found myself looking up at Cecelia and TJ.

“You have created quite an uproar here, you know”, TJ began. “The girls were a lot hotter than they have been in the past, and it shows. Tips were up ten percent tonight, and drink sales seem to be improved. Management approves of the arrangement.”

I smiled, proud, but also pulled at my restraints. I was tortured in my extreme arousal and could do nothing to relieve myself.

The two girls both used my face, taking over ten minutes each. They then got back into street clothes before making any moves to release me. Finally, my clothes were returned, I was let loose from the bench and the chastity belt was removed.

I moaned, one hand moving to stroke myself, but TJ stopped me. “Really, you wouldn’t want to violate our agreement, would you? That’s not allowed in here under any circumstances.” I moaned again, suffering in my arousal, then began putting my clothes back on as the girls smiled, watching me try to force my erection into my tight jeans. “See you tomorrow night!”

When I finally arrived home and undressed, I was still rock-hard. It took only a few seconds to rid myself of a full night’s frustration.

It was not hard to change my work schedule to allow me time to serve in the club. Of course, while I was able to give myself an orgasm at home in the morning, I had to get to the club straight from work. So I arrived each night fully aroused.

I reported to the girls who would escort me back, strip me, put my clothes under lock and key, lock me into the chastity belt, then strap me down to the bench for my night of service.

There would usually be a rush right after I arrived, with several of the girls using me in quick succession, then it would be just the dancers, interrupted only by an occasional extra. Still, my mouth tended to be in continuous use at least half the time I was on duty.

The blindfold got some regular use. While none of the girls really worried about simply having me see, they seemed to get an added thrill from the anonymity it granted them. Indeed, although I soon knew all the girls intimately, recognizing them by taste alone in some cases, there were times when I was blindfolded continuously for several hours and couldn’t recognize any of them. I had also heard rumors that even the bartenders, all female, who had far more conservative attitudes about revealing themselves, also used me while I was denied use of my eyes.

TJ and Cecelia were there regularly, taking great pleasure in using me several times a night, even when not dancing. Dalia also showed up regularly; I recognized her easily because of her size and weight. She smothered me effortlessly and was probably the heaviest dancer there by a good twenty or more pounds. She also enjoyed my desperate struggles when she would sit on my face with her weight and put me into a full smother for extended periods.

Cecelia was more sensuous, enjoying slow strokes across my lips. She would sometimes sit with my nose inside her vagina, where my tongue would lick her clit as my eyes (when I was allowed to see) looked up into her asshole. While not painful, it was extremely arousing. My cock suffered greatly.

TJ was more of a natural Domme. She could be light and sensuous at times, but more frequently my face would be buffeted by hard grinds on my mouth, almost bruising my lips, and her fingers thought nothing of torturing my nipples with painful squeezes when my lips and tongue tired.

The tastes varied from day to day. Some of the girls worked six or seven nights a week, and as my service entered its second, then its third week, I knew some of them must have been having their periods.

Then came the fateful day that changed my life.

My boss called me in for a talk one evening just before I was about to go to the club. “Your work has suffered since you changed your schedule. You’re leaving in the middle of the evening rush, and we need your help then more than at any other part of the day. If you can’t work the evenings, there are others who can, but I don’t need you.”

I was fired. I had already been living in a hand-to-mouth situation with my money, and I had nothing to fall back on. This would be a catastrophe, unless I could find another job in a matter of days.

I got to the club a bit early, and met TJ, Cecelia and Dalia as they arrived and told them the news. Cecelia commiserated with me, exclaiming, “Oh, that’s terrible!” Dalia was silent, but sympathized with her eyes. They both worried about an interruption in the arrangement.

TJ thought silently about it for a minute, then said, “Perhaps there is a solution. “ I looked up hopefully. “You think they could use some male help here at the club?”

She smiled. “The club couldn’t--but we girls could.”

I felt that familiar twinge of arousal beginning to reawaken in my cock as I looked back, curious.

“Obviously, you no longer have any visible means of support”, TJ began. “So if you wish to remain here and serve us, you can no longer do it while living on the outside. You’re just going to have to live right here at the club..”

The other two girls smiled. I still was not sure what the new arrangement might entail.

“It goes without saying, you can’t be on the payroll. But if you are still committed to our pleasure, the girls could chip in a few bucks a week each and put you up in a room here at the Motel. Of course, since we are supporting you with room and meals, you would have to be at our disposal twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week...”

I shuddered. I also had a raging hard-on.

“Take a few hours and go home. Pack your things and come back here when you have terminated your lease and dealt with any other loose ends in your life. Then you can move in here--for good.”

It took only three hours. I returned with all my belongings and was shown where to put everything in deep storage in the club. I noted ominously that the girls demanded EVERYTHING went into storage, except for two changes of underwear, a robe and a couple pairs of short pants.

TJ and Cecelia then escorted me to a room only a short distance from backstage where I would now live. It would be a quick walk to where I would serve, totally thru areas of the club not accessible to the public. They then told me, in a tone that was becoming more and more familiar to me, “Strip!”

I removed my clothes. They then instructed me to use the bathroom. I hesitated as they followed me. “Are you going to watch?” Cecelia smiled and said, “Of course. You’re ours now, and we wouldn’t want you to cheat on your agreement.” I used the toilet as their eyes never left me.

To my dismay, they produced a small butt-plug. I looked at them questioningly, and TJ explained, “We enjoy keeping our slave stimulated. And a full ass tends to make you more obedient. Anyways, you no longer have any choice in the matter.” They lubed it generously and inserted it into my virgin ass. The chastity belt was immediately locked on and I was escorted to my post on the bench. I noted the plug moving within me as I walked, gently stimulating me.

Now, as I lay bound to the bench being used, I began to have concerns. I would no longer have any freedom in the outside world. For all I knew, I might never again even set foot outside the club. My anus tightened around the plug, and my cock pulsed against the confines of the chastity belt as the girls rode my face thru the long night.

It was interesting to note that the girls seemed to be using me more frequently as well as more aggressively, often punishing my nipples when I tired. They knew of the new arrangement, and also knew I was no longer free to withdraw. Like it or not, I was truly trapped, effectively imprisoned. My arousal was intensified as I considered this, and intensified even more as I remained blindfolded for better than half the night. Even worse, while blindfolded, a couple of times I screamed as something lashed my chest. I noted the two welts when I was finally released at the end of the night.

TJ, Cecelia and Dalia brought me to my room. Before my chastity belt was released, my wrists were placed in leather restraints and locked behind my back. They then took off the belt and removed the plug. I moaned as it was removed, then shuddered as I saw the plug presented at my mouth.

“W-what is this??”, I pleaded.

TJ looked at me with a total lack of mercy as she stated, “You belong to us now. When this plug is removed each night and each morning, you’ll clean it with your mouth.”

I noted Dalia holding a folded leather thong in one hand as I hesitated, then submitted, opening my mouth and taking the plug, then licking and sucking it as the three girls watched. They then brought me to the shower where they washed me themselves and dried me, not allowing me to touch my body throughout.

The bedroom was next. I was laid down on my back, my wrists were locked to the upper corners of the bed, then similar leather shackles were fastened to my ankles which were pulled wide and locked to the bed’s lower corners. I was spread open and fully available.

“This is your first night of complete slavery here”, TJ began. “So tonight, you’ll be allowed to have an orgasm.” I smiled, already rock hard and ready.

“Tomorrow night, you will not cum. The night after that you will. Then you’ll skip two nights before cumming. Each orgasm will increase the wait by a day for you.”

I felt very aroused by this at first, then considered. In a month, it would be a week between orgasms. Six months into the future? I shuddered to think.

“Of course”, TJ continued, “You’ll continue to serve us on demand. And each night, one of us, sometimes two, will spend the night with you on a rotating basis. Those nights you’re allowed to cum, you will get yourself some nice head or a good fuck. When you’re denied, you’ll serve with your mouth alone. And you’ll lick up and swallow your cum when and wherever it falls.”

I shuddered, realizing how quickly my control was passing into their hands. Soon, they began mounting my mouth as I laid bound on the bed. They took turns, until finally I had brought them each to a major orgasm. Then TJ positioned herself over my cock.

I moaned deeply in anticipation, but the moan was cut off quickly as Dalia sat on my face and began a deep smother. I felt lips...then teeth...on my nipples and realized Cecelia was not idle. Then, TJ sank down onto my cock and began to slowly pump me.

I moaned deeply into Dalia’s cunt when she allowed me to breathe, pulling hard on my restraints, trying to thrust up, but there was so little slack I accomplished little. All I could do was lick and suck the cunt that forced itself onto my mouth.

It didn’t take long for me to go into an intense, if short-lived, orgasm. I flailed about madly in my bonds, crying out into the cunt that smothered me, finally exploding as I filled TJ‘s cunt. Moments later, Dalia rose, and TJ immediately crawled up the bed and straddled my face.

I looked up and saw deep into her open cunt, seeing the white fluid beginning to drip down. TJ looked down into my eyes, smiled, said “Now, clean me out!”, then lowered herself to my mouth.

I had no choice. She sat fully on my mouth, and when my tongue hesitated, she twisted my nipples until I began to lick her deeply. My cum joined her juices flowing into my mouth, and I was forced to swallow it all until the taste returned to something that was all female.

She rose, and I found myself looking up at the three women there, humiliated and helpless.

They unstrapped my legs, lifting them until my ass was hanging open in the air. Then Cecelia showed me the plug for my ass. It was larger than the other one by a small margin. As I looked, Cecelia answered my unspoken question. “Some of us like using a dildo to fuck someone. Your ass couldn’t take the ones we like until we enlarge it for you. Don’t worry, in a week or two, you’ll be surprised at how much you will take back there. Of course, if you don’t like the idea, we can go up two or three steps instead of just one...”

She inserted the plug, answered only by my moans as my ass was again opened and the belt again locked into place imprisoning my cock.

TJ said her good-nights to the other two girls, and they departed. She dimmed the lights and got into bed with me, kissed me, and said, “Ooooo...we’re gonna have so much fun with you.”

I moaned, trying to resist my reawakening cock, feeling TJ fingering herself beside me, then suddenly tasting her juices again as she thrust her fingers in my mouth. I knew it would be forty-eight hours until my next orgasm, and the waits would grow by a full day for every orgasm that followed.

My ass was being stretched now by the butt plug, and I could tell this one was a bit longer as well as wider than the last. As TJ mounted my face for the first of several times that night, I knew my twenty-four hour a day enslavement would be used to the fullest possible extent by a bevy of beautiful, aggressive girls and that my own pleasure would be reduced as time wore on.

Yes, I would get to know them all quite intimately over the coming months. And with my rights to pleasure rapidly vanishing, my hunger for them all would grow and soon become my obcession.

It was every man’s fantasy, and it had become my reality.

And now, as my returning erection began to swell once more against the cruel chastity belt locked on me, and as my ass tightened against the plug, I realized that achieving one’s fantasy may be a mixed blessing.

And as TJ mounted my face again, I knew that I would no longer have any say in the matter.

Once again, I began to lick.


Copyright © 1999
Master Ivan Press
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