Christine often went to Edge Play after work on Friday nights. Her job as a legal secretary for a law firm on Wall Street didn't leave much room for self-expression.
The cab let her out on 14th street. After a short walk down the block, she stood before a pair of glass doors in a stainless steel frame on an, otherwise, featureless gray stucco building, the entrance to Edge Play.
She walked down a short hallway, past a BDSM bookstore on the left and a novelty store on the right, around a corner and down a short hallway. She stopped to show her ID to the bouncer then proceeded into a waiting elevator.
She exited the elevator on the main floor of the club into another short hallway. She passed a political poster that said:
Vote Libertarian--we're pro-choice on EVERYTHING!
Christine considered silently, "Damn Libertarians want to eliminate all malum prohibitum laws and put me out of a job! There'd be almost no need for lawyers if the only crimes were malum in se." She sighed and continued until she found a list of scheduled events:
Misanthrope live tonight
Big Boob Parade in Blue Dungeon at 8:00
Branding Demonstration in Orange Dungeon at 8:00
All Your Base Are Belong To Us in Black Dungeon at 8:30
Co Ed Tandem Beer Pissing Contest in Red Dungeon at 9:00
Comedy King in Yellow Dungeon at 9:00
Hot Male Revue in White Dungeon at 10:00
Master of Illusion in Green Dungeon at 10:00
Slave Auction in Blue Dungeon at 11:00
Torture Demonstration in Violet Dungeon at 11:00
She'd seen all these events; there was nothing new to see tonight. She continued into the main room, walked up to the bar, ordered a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, and found a seat at an empty table.
Misanthrope was wailing out their latest death-metal hit, Rest In Pieces, in a satanic devil voice, "I am crazy! Don't fuck with me baby! Chop you up into bits! While you hang from your tits!"
She thought that Jamie, the guitarist, was cute as she finished her drink. That thought made her feel horny, and she also had to take a leak, so she stood and headed toward the alternate ladies' room, the one with the live human toilet slaves, to piss and get her clit sucked on at the same time.
She stopped for a moment at the corkboard plastered with personal ads. Most were for masters seeking slaves, or slaves seeking masters. Others were selling BDSM paraphernalia--collars, shackles, suspension harnesses, fellatio harnesses, spreader bars, etc. A few were for more mundane items such as cars for sale, apartments for rent, and roommates wanted. Then one caught her eye.
Female CUM-SPONGE wanted: Using a two-part harness joined at a cock ring, I will wear one part on my hips with the cock ring held tightly in place at the base of my cock, and you will wear the other part over your head with that same cock ring pressed tightly against your mouth. Thus connected, you will be my cum-sponge for a 24-hour period. I will wear you around the house throughout the day--while cooking, while eating at the table, while watching TV, while working at the computer, even while sleeping in bed. You, of course, would be expected to consume whatever secretions are deposited in your mouth. You will be disconnected only for brief moments during the day so you can change your adult diaper. I imagine I would be able to watch an entire football game while drinking a six-pack or two without once getting up once to take a whiz.
Christine's heart was pounding and her pussy was wet by the time she finished reading the long-winded ad. She jotted down the phone number on the back of an envelope and shoved the envelope back in her purse.
Forgetting all about using a toilet slave, she left the club and hurried home.
She arrived home shortly after 8:00 PM. Her panties were soaked from thinking about being used as a cum-sponge all the way home. She dropped her purse on the sofa and picked up the phone.
Then she set it down. Could she really call a total stranger to offer herself up to him as his sex toy for a weekend? While she had sold herself at the club's slave auctions a few times, calling a total stranger cold was a little scary. But this was too good to pass up. She picked up the phone again and dialed the number.
A man answered the phone, "Hello?"
"'Hi, ' to you too! Who's this?"
"I, er, saw your ad at Edge Play."
"Yeah, for a cum-sponge?"
"Oh! That ad! I posted that months ago; I figured it got taken down by now."
"It's still there. You never got any answers?"
"A couple of gay guys called me a few times. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, but I'm straight. You're the first woman to call about it."
"Yeah, I'm a woman. I'm Christine. And you are?"
"I'm Brian. So you think you might want to be my cum-sponge?"
He didn't sound so dominant, and Christine was feeling hesitant again. "I guess so," she answered.
"Well, okay. When do you want to do it?"
"I don't know. Any time I guess. Whenever is good for you, I suppose."
"How about now?" he asked.
"Now? I don't know. It's kind of late, and I don't know if I want to go back into the city."
"I see. Well, some other time then..."
"Wait!" Christine blurted. "Do you live in the city? Maybe I could come over tomorrow?"
"Er, I live in Jersey, up in Bergen County. You?"
"I'm out on Long Island. I can take the PATH to Hoboken if you can pick me up at the station."
They agreed on a time and where to meet.
The next morning, Christine packed a change of clothes in a small satchel and boarded the LIRR into Penn Station in Manhattan. From there she boarded a PATH train to New Jersey and rode it to the end of the line at Hoboken.
She came up out of the portal onto the sidewalk and looked around.
Her heart was pounding again at what she was about to do, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when someone said, "Christine?"
She spun around to see a tall guy with brown hair and glasses. He was wearing a bright yellow tee shirt that said, "I came on Eileen" in dark red letters.
"Hi! Brian?" she asked.
"Yeah. So, uhm, you ready?"
They walked around the corner and stopped in front of an old 1950's era Ford Thunderbird. The glossy paint was dark green with a narrow yellow stripe running up along the front door seam across the hood and back down the other door seam. It also had the number "2" panted in white on the back fenders, and had the strangest looking rear spoiler that looked a lot like a row of square jet engines.
Christine commented, "Ford Thunderbird, huh?"
"Yeah! You can say I'm a Thunderbird fan." He opened the door for her and she got in.
She tossed her satchel into the back seat and sat in the car. He got in the driver's side, popped a tape into the stereo, and drove off to the sound of Cass Carnaby Five playing their hit single, Dangerous Game.
Traffic was light as he drove cross streets and got on Route 78 to the Pulaski Skyway through Jersey City. Then he got on the Garden State Parkway and headed north.
"How far is your house from here?" she asked.
"We're almost to the danger zone," he answered.
"Almost there, you mean?"
"F.A.B." he answered.
A few minutes later, he got off the Parkway into a residential area. He turned into a development of small houses and after a bit of meandering, turned into a driveway and pulled into a garage next to another old Ford Thunderbird, numbered "1." Thunderbird 1 was painted silver, and had a small rocket-like nose cone welded to the hood.
Christine followed Brian into his house and into the living room.
"Well," he said. "Here we are."
"Yeah, here we are. So what do you want me to do."
"Wait here a sec," he said and went off down a hallway. He returned a few minutes later with a larger Tupperware box. Opening it revealed a box of adult diapers and a leather harness with all kinds of straps, buckles, and rings.
"This is it," he said as he lifted the harness from the box.
"Yeah," she answered, getting impatient with his bashful demeanor, "now what?"
"Do you need to use the bathroom or anything first?"
"I'm fine," she said, wishing he would get on with it already.
"Then, uhm, I guess you should take off your clothes."
She swallowed and did as told. She leaned over and pulled her shoes off. Next, she pulled her blouse over her head. Then she unbelted her jeans and let them drop. She pulled her socks off next, leaving herself standing there in just a bra and panties.
She turned around and said, "Can you unfasten my bra?"
"Sure," he answered as he fumbled with the hooks on the back of her bra. She pulled her bra off her shoulders and faced him again. "You want my panties off too, right?"
"Yeah," he answered picking up the box of adult diapers. She leaned down, and pulled her panties down her legs and kicked them to one side as he opened the box and handed her a diaper.
Standing before him completely nude, she asked him, "Do I really have to wear that?"
"Yeah. I'll be wearing you non-stop. You'll be able to go to the bathroom without breaking us apart. I'll only have to remove you once or twice a day so you can change your diaper."
.... There is more of this story ...