Chapter 10 : Service With A Smile

James struggled to sit up, trying to make sense of his situation.

Across the room, silhouetted in the light of the doorway the women that had brought him here were talking to a thin, short man. He showed every conventional respect to the women; nodding and barely speaking as they made their points forcibly, gesticulating and using a commanding tone.

"You will put this one with the others," the one that had snatched him said.

"But my client, Mistress...

"Whose client?"

"Yours, Mistress. Sorry, Mistress."

"So, you will do as requested?"

"Yes, Mistress."

James's two captors strutted off. The man approached James who was still attempting to free himself from his bonds. "I can't free you," the man said. "I have to take you below." Unable to reply, James could do little more than shrug resignedly. The man cut through the tape around James' knees and ankles and helped him to his feet. "This way, please," he said, with a politeness that James found disturbing.

The way led down a short spiral staircase to a corridor with three heavy looking wooden doors on either side and another straight ahead of them at the end. The first side door was opened and James was shown inside. The man took a heavy collar that was chained to the wall and fitted it around James' neck. Only then did he slice through the tape that held James' wrists.

Before James could remove the tape from across his mouth, the man had gone, locking the door behind him. It was only then that James realised that he was not alone. "That was Nevin," a voice from the other corner of the room said... "He does what he can for us." Startled, James turned around. Another man sat curled up against the wall, chained by the neck like himself.

James pulled the tape from his mouth. "Us?" he said to the man. "How many of 'us' are there and why are we here?" James' question went unanswered as Nevin returned, unfastened the other man's chain from the wall and led him wordlessly from the room.

It was an hour before anyone returned. This time Nevin brought food; two bowls of a simple rice in a dish with wooden scoop shaped spoons. Moments later the other man was brought back and shackled to the wall once more. James watched with concern as he slid to the floor beside his bowl. Without speaking he folded himself into a ball and turned his naked back on James, curling himself up around his bowl.

Nevin turned to James. "It will be some time before he speaks." James didn't get the chance to ask why. "He's been with the women. Come, you must learn something of it too." Nevin reached down and unfastened James' chain from the wall. As James got up with trepidation to follow Nevin the other man rolled over and James caught sight of his cock; swollen, reddened, sore and rigidly erect. For the first time James had some inkling of what was happening.

"Prick sex," thought James. "They're serving prick-sex."

It had been something of joke in the coffee bars with his work mates. The prick-seizers they were called; almost mythical women that broke all the rules and sought out sex with men in ways that no one dared any more. They wanted penetrative sex with men on the serving end; vaginal sex and anal sex with cocks; fellatio; even hand-on-prick sex. It wasn't actually illegal but it was disapproved of by New Order party members and most of society, these days. In some cases, or so they said, women actually took a subservient or submissive role; a contradiction of everything that New Order stood for.

Most men thought the whole thing was some sort of pornographer's fantasy. A few believed that some women might possibly be that perverse but that few if any actually translated such deviant thoughts into actions. James found himself beside the end door of the corridor as Nevin passed his chain to a black clad woman. She first of all shackled his wrists behind his back then fastened a mouth filling rubber ball in place gagging him. "Come on," she said you're in for a treat." Somehow James wasn't so sure.

James found himself led into a barely lit room. In the centre was a thick wooden pillar. His escort fastened his wrists to it and then buckled a heavy strap around his throat and the pillar so that he could hardly move. He became aware that there were, in the shadows, three or four women were sitting staring at him. Slow pulsing music echoed from a speaker hidden away in the ceiling. The smell of incense filled the gloom. None of the women spoke but one, more eager than the others stepped forward and grasped James by his swollen member. She whinnied with pleasure as his cock stiffened further in response to her touch and slid spike nailed fingers around the base of his prick and round under his balls. James stretched up and back against the post, the choking sensation of the strap around his throat competing with the stuffing silencing of the gag in his mouth. The woman slipped to her knees and gestured to one of her companions to join her.

With the strap around his throat, James could not drop his gaze to see what was being done, or who was doing it but he could feel the mouths, the hands, the finger nails, on his cock and balls. As the music throbbed, one of the women fastened a length of black velvet across his eyes. One woman, then another, then another, took his cock between her thighs, each in turn taking only a few short strokes in her cunt as though she were savouring a fine wine or a delicious morsel of gourmet food. The torment went on; the women evidently skilled in maintaining a man's erection to provide the whole group with pleasure indefinitely prolonged, until James felt his organ would be struck rigid permanently.