The Surrender Box |

“Welcome, esteemed guests!” Mistress Eva spread her arms decorously toward the crowd currently packed shouldertoshoulder into the foyer of the Ouroboros Club. “I’m so pleased to see so many of you here for the continued testing of the Surrender Box! We have a fresh new pair of anonymous volunteers inside who are just dying to meet you all! Who could they be? We’ll never know! Isn’t that delicious?”

Siobhan caught my eye and grinned, rocking back and forth in her overhead wrist restraints, full of nervous excitement.

The Surrender Box was just big enough for us both to stand in, facing each other, with our hands and feet shackled to the ceiling and floor, leaving about half a meter of clearance on every side for the box’s stateoftheart “adaptable attachments” to maneuver freely around us. Each of us had a remote control tied to our hand with a single button on it. Either of us could press that button to stop the experience at any time, but that was our only say in the proceedings. Otherwise, we were completely at the mercy of those attachments, and whatever the club’s members paid for the privilege of doing with them.

The thought gave me a thrill every time it flicked through my head.

We’d already gotten a brief demonstration of the box’s remarkable dexterity and versatility when Mistress Eva had escorted us inside. At the touch of a single button, it had grown hands and chains right out of its walls and undressed and secured us all by itself, while Mistress Eva delivered the welcome and safety spiel. Our clothes were now imprisoned somewhere in the machine’s workings, and based on the waiver we’d signed, I knew there was a good chance that certain articles might never make their way back to us.

I couldn’t wait to see what those attachments were capable of once the fun really began.

I grinned back at Siobhan and then returned my attention to the inbox monitor. The Surrender Box was opaque and soundproof, preventing any of the club members from watching us without paying for a turn at the controls, but we were allowed a live feed of whoever was actively working on us. When there was no one at the controls, the feed defaulted to a distant overhead view of the party, and the same audio that was piping through club’s speakers — currently Mistress Eva’s voice.

“Please enjoy the other club amenities while you wait for your number to be called. As always, respect the privacy of your fellow members and our volunteers, and do not attempt to pressure or trick anyone into revealing personal information.” Mistress Eva patted the bosom of her corset as she approached the end of her speech. “Above all, be kind, but not too kind.” I could hear the wink in her voice. “And have fun!”

Our monitor shifted to a split screen, showing the two empty little curtainedoff desks on either side of the Surrender Box, and the audio clicked as it switched over to the desk’s shortrange mics. For now, we heard nothing but a very faint rumble of feet on either side of us as the crowd dispersed into the club.

The soundproofing was impressive. If I hadn’t seen the foyer, I would have had no concept at all of the party going on around us, nothing but the little counter in the corner of the screen showing the number of people waiting.

Could there really be hundreds already preregistered for time with us?

“Oh my god, oh my god, okay, what should we do first?” A collegeaged woman in a pink sweater asked as she slid into the desk seat on my side. Three other women her age crowded in around her.

“I guess we figure out how the controls work,” suggested one with glasses and a persistent fullface blush. “Only… that could take days.”

“No, look, there’s a menu of suggested presets,” said a curvy one in a band tshirt, who’d circled around to claim the chair on Siobhan’s side. “Hey, ‘Feather of Torment’ sounds like fun.”

With the tap of a button, a gray appendage emerged from the wall of the box, behind Siobhan. Just like the cuffs that now held us, and the hands that had undressed us, the appendage started featureless, almost like a pseudopod, before arranging itself into the shape of a long peacock tailfeather.

Band Shirt dragged the feather along Siobhan’s back, under her arm, and around to her breast. It stretched and curved itself in a way no natural feather could, but the part of it in contact with Siobhan’s skin always seemed to retain that amazingly natural weight and texture.

Siobhan gasped and twisted in her restraints, trying to lean into the contact. The feather automatically adjusted itself to maintain the same teasing pressure and distance.

“Fuck, it’s just as annoying as the real thing!” she groaned, but she was laughing.

I was so absorbed in watching her squirm that I startled and yelped when a brush of ticklish softness ran across the back of my thigh.

“No kidding,” I said.

“Is it working?” asked Pink Sweater.

Next to her, Blush put on the desk’s monitoring goggles.

The cameras set into the walls of the box turned to follow the movements of her head, stopping only when she craned her neck upward. The box was programmed not to let anyone see our faces.

Still, the microadjustments of those hires cameras over the rest of our bodies somehow felt even more exposing than being looked at with human eyes.

“Oh, it’s working,” Blush reported to the others. “It’s… um… it’s working really well on the guy.” She giggled and turned even pinker.

It was true, I was already hard as a rock, though it was more from the anticipation and excitement of the situation than from the tiny bit of contact these women had given us so far.

Siobhan was in a similar state. There were glimmers of moisture spreading slowly down her thighs, her nipples were puckered into that stiff texture that would have been so satisfying to touch, if I could just reach her.

But with the exception of Band Shirt, all the women outside seemed much more interested in my body than Siobhan’s.

“Let me see, let me see!” Pink Sweater clamored and took the goggles from Blush. “Oh my god!” she gasped and took them off almost as soon as she’d looked through them, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my god, that’s real. That’s, like, a real, live, erect penis, and we can just look at it! Without even saying hello?”

“We can do a lot more than look,” said Band Shirt, peering through the other desk’s goggles and extending the feather she’d been using on Siobhan to brush the underside of my cock from base to tip. A shiver ran through me, and I could feel a dribble of fluid part from me along with the feather.

Pink Sweater and Blush giggled, grabbed each other by the shoulders, and clung together, panting and vocalizing like they were the ones being tormented in chains. It went on for so long that the fourth woman in the group, one dressed in a prim skirt suit, took over the controls from them.

“Let’s see what else we’ve got here,” said Band Shirt, scrolling through options. “Ooh, I like the sound of ‘willow switch.’”

In less than half a second, the feather that was caressing Siobhan lost its feathery texture, rearranged itself into something like a long, flexible wand of wood, and snapped against her back, leaving a long, red mark.

Siobhan cried out sharply in pain and surprise.

“You all right?” I asked, hovering my thumb instinctively over the stop button.

After catching her breath for a moment, Siobhan nodded and smiled playfully.

“Watch out for that one,” she panted. “It’s got a bit of a kick to i—”

Before she could finish her sentence, an implement I could swear was wood snapped mercilessly across my ass.

“Fuck!” I spluttered, still processing the incredibly sharp sensation.

I hadn’t even noticed the feather’s absence on me yet.

“You’re so mean!” accused Pink Sweater.

“Come on, the volunteers have to be old pros at this,” said Skirt Suit. “This is probably like nothing to them.”

She made it sound so badass, I was glad none of them had been able to hear or see me flinch.

Over the course of several minutes, Skirt Suit perfected the art of teasing my skin to its most alert with the Feather of Torment, and then punishing the sensitive patch of goosebumps she’d made with an unannounced swing of the switch, much to the cackling amusement of Pink Sweater and Blush.

I took lashes across my chest, my arms, my thighs, and several across my ass and upper back. Each one came right when my body was beginning to trust and let its guard down in spite of me.

As much as I enjoyed the attention, I was kind of hoping that, as the night went on, our visitors would even out to have a roughly equal interest in women. Both for Siobhan’s sake, and, selfishly, to give me a break.

Band Shirt stayed with Siobhan, but quickly tired of hitting her, and seemed more interested in exploring the features of the box itself.

“Oh, hey, anyone want to use the headphones?” she asked, pointing them out to Pink Sweater in particular. “You can say hello after all, and they can even say it back.”

Pink Sweater wrung her hands hesitantly. “What if they say something I can’t unhear?”

“Like what?” Band Shirt scoffed. “They’re just people here for a good time, same as us.”

As if she was expecting them to bite her, Pink Sweater lifted the headphones and hovered them over her ears. Blush and Skirt Suit leaned in close to listen.

The lights next to the inbox microphones illuminated, to let Siobhan and me know we were being eavesdropped on.

“Hi,” said Pink Sweater. “Do you, um, read me?”

“Hey, ladies,” I said in my sultriest, most casual tone. “First time in a club?”

There were shrieks of embarrassed excited laughter. “How could you tell?!”

 

#

 

That first visit with the college ladies left me even more nervous than I had been before. It was exhilarating, to be sure, taking the brunt of their whims while they giggled amongst themselves. But tonight was going to be a marathon, and while I couldn’t speak for Siobhan, I wasn’t sure that I would be able to make it to the end if every encounter was that painful.

Thankfully, the club members’ tastes turned out to be almost as varied as the box’s capabilities.

Some people chatted casually with us, some made stilted attempts at domspeak, others were silent.

Some wanted to stroke us, or grope us, or tickle us. One woman just wanted to listen to me choke on a deepthroat gag.

I pretended I was having trouble taking it, just for her.

There was an older couple who used the entire period to argue about their marriage, while periodically throwing cold water on us and hitting us with a rolling pin (for me) and a rake handle (for Siobhan), apparently as a substitute for hitting each other.

Siobhan and I braced ourselves and looked into each other’s eyes, whispering ‘I love you’ back and forth while the blows landed. I only wished the couple would put on the headphones at least once, so we could wish them luck working it out.

Easily the most popular appendage the club members used on us was a simple facsimile of a human hand. They stroked my cock, and Siobhan’s pussy, and asked us for the honest reviews their real partners wouldn’t give them.

We tried to offer useful advice, but it wasn’t easy. The box always shut down automatically when it sensed that one of us was close to orgasm. So, after the first four or five rounds of edging, each new touch, no matter how expert or amateur, felt like both the best and most frustrating thing anyone had ever done to us.

“Would you look at these two brave souls?” Mistress Eva’s voice boomed through the club and the box, and the monitor feed briefly cut to a wide view of the party. The guests were all turning to look at an image projected onto a screen of theatrical fog. It was of Siobhan and me, from the waist down, both of us dripping steadily onto the floor of the box.

After a matter of seconds, it was gone again, with a snap of Mistress Eva’s fingers.

“I’m afraid that’s all you get,” she teased the crowd, “until it’s your turn to visit with them. Remember, there’s no guarantee they’ll last the whole night, so best reserve your spot soon if you haven’t already! But first, let’s take a moment to acknowledge our highest bidders. These two will of course have the honor of granting the volunteers their first release of the night!”

I felt my body slacken with relief at this. The edging and punishment had so detached me from reality by this point that I almost didn’t process the next thing she said.

“Let’s give a hand to Ben Sweeney and Ryan Winslow!”

Even when the names worked their way into my brain, I assumed it couldn’t possibly be the same Ben Sweeney and Ryan Winslow that I knew from work.

It took me several minutes to realize how much more improbable it would be to hear those same two exact names in combination if it wasn’t them.

Siobhan gave me a look, clearly doing the same math in her head, seconds before my two colleagues’ voices came within range of the box’s desk microphones.

“You take the man, I’ll take the woman,” Ben directed, sliding into the chair on Siobhan’s side.

Ryan immediately objected, “Why do I have to take the—”

“Damnit, Ryan, would you lighten up and try to have some fun?” said Ben. “If you can’t get your freak on here, where can you?”

Ryan slumped into the seat on my side and picked selfconsciously at the cuffs of his dress shirt.

Ben, looking much more comfortable in his buttondown best, quickly found the camera on his side of the box, so that, on the monitor, he seemed to be looking directly at us.

“What are they doing here?” Siobhan whispered to me. “Could they know?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t tell anyone where we were going. And I definitely didn’t tell the club where I work.”

There had been a time when I was almost friends with both Ben and Ryan. Friendly enough that I didn’t hate office parties, because they gave us a chance to joke around without worrying about what we were supposed to be doing instead.

Then I took the joking too far.

It was an occasion when we’d all had a few drinks, and one of them said something about how pretty Siobhan was, kind of teasing me about my good luck and telling me to stay on my toes. I’d casually replied that they were both pretty enough to join us sometime, if they wanted. And then there was a very long silence.

I guess I’d sensed a vibe from them, or I wouldn’t have said it in the first place. But their refusal to look me in the eye ever since had convinced me that I was wrong, that there were no reserves of kink or queerness anywhere in them. Certainly none that had ever been tapped.

“Those hypocrites!” Siobhan said for me. “Who do they think—”

Whatever else Siobhan had to say turned to anonymous silence, when Ben picked up the goggles and headphones, and the microphone light lit up.

“Hello, volunteers,” Ben spoke to us in a smooth, low tone that made some deep, instinctive part of me feel pleasantly held, in spite of our hi. “I’m here to teach my friend a thing or two about responsible domination and getting out of his own damn way. I hope you don’t mind being his guinea pigs?”

Siobhan and I looked at each other, horny and hotheaded, our opportunity for private conversation already gone.

She shrugged, and I shrugged back a shared sentiment of, “What the hell, why not?”

We had both fantasized about them, after all. And they had signed up for an encounter with two anonymous volunteers. That was us.

After a few seconds of silence, Siobhan replied with a wordless but clearly positive moan.

Ben and Ryan had never heard her in a ual situation. Hopefully that sound would be harder to place than her speaking voice.

“I’m glad to hear that, honey,” said Ben. “Make that sound again if you’d like me to touch you.”

Siobhan gave him another wordless moan.

“Good girl,” said Ben, reaching out with the box’s hand setting, to brush her cheek and neck, squeeze her ass, and give each of her nipples a gentle roll between its fingers. “Let me hear how it feels.”

Siobhan granted him wordless running commentary, gasping with an extra note of rapture when he applied just the right pressure to her nipples, grunting with frustration when he bypassed her pussy to stroke her thigh.

“See what I’m doing?” Ben asked Ryan, in a more relaxed and ordinary voice. “I’m not going in swinging. I’m not threatening this person who has no reason to trust me. I’m just offering some clear, calm instructions, which she can choose to follow if she’s feeling it. I’m specifically asking her for feedback, because that’s a winwin. Giving it makes her feel vulnerable and exposed, and getting it makes me better at predicting what she can handle, what she wants, what it takes to get a response out of her.”

I caught Siobhan’s eye again, and if my hands had been free, I would have fanned my neck, our usual signal for, “Is this working for you like it is for me?”

She flapped her fingers in her restraints in confirmation.

Ben turned his attention smoothly back to the camera, and Siobhan.

“I hope all this shop talk isn’t breaking the mood for you, honey.”

Siobhan made a faint whining sound, nuzzling for contact against the hand construct, which had returned to stroking her neck.

I hadn’t seen her this frustrated since the last time I’d gagged her. She was usually a pretty vocal person.

Ben halfgranted her request for attention by returning the hand construct to her breast, but still leaving her pussy untouched.

“You try,” he told Ryan.

“Hey,” Ryan mumbled, sitting at a surly angle in the chair on my side. “I’m a guy. Hope that’s… cool.”

I was nervous about answering, even with a moan, given how much better they both knew my voice, so I just flexed my cock in what I hoped would come across as an eager nod.

A soft smile flickered across Ryan’s face, under his goggles, then got lost in the surliness.

“This means nothing, okay?” he said.

“Jesus Christ, Ry,” Ben sighed. “How much more nostrings do you want a situation to be? You don’t need to keep specifying it. Just talk to the guy. Tell him what you want to do to him. Or what you want him to do.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

Ryan shook himself and tried again.

“Hey,” he said to me, in an adorable toughguy growl. “I’ve always wanted to stick something in someone like you. So, I’m going to. You’re going to take it, and you’re going to like it. …Okay?”

Ben looked like he would have covered his face if the goggles weren’t half doing that for him. “That’s… not bad for a first try,” he managed to push out.

I took a chance and moaned what I hoped was an encouraging response.

In the midst of this conversation, Ben had walked the hand construct down Siobhan’s side, and was ever so lightly brushing its fingers over her slick pussy.

She made a pleading sound.

“Mystery girl,” he addressed her. “If you don’t use your safety button, I’m going to fuck you quite hard in the next few minutes.”

Siobhan rocked back and forth restlessly in the restraints, her thumb nowhere near the button.

“I want you to understand how rough I might be with you,” said Ben.

He reached an appendage out in front of her, formed the end of it into a cock, and then demonstrated how adjusting a few sliders on the control panel could change its shape and size. It could shift from the diameter of a finger to a forearm in just a few seconds, and even reform its smooth shaft into something that looked more like a string of peachsized beads.

Siobhan spread her legs as far as the chains allowed in encouragement.

Ryan belatedly attempted a similar demonstration, reaching out with a similar appendage on my side and adjusting it in jerkier bursts.

After a few moments, both appendages adjusted down to the size of fairly average cocks and reached for us on long, curving stems of matter.

I guessed the box’s dildo menu was probably reserved for high bidders, just like the settings that allowed orgasm. Up to this point, with the exception of the deepthroat gag, no one had put any more than an artificial finger inside us.

I was looking forward to a nice, penetrative stretch, but I was also glad to see, as the dildo stem looped around me on its way toward my ass, that it was producing its own dripping flow of lube.

The one for Siobhan did the same, even though it was headed for her already dripping pussy.

It pressed the head of itself against her opening, and then into it, with surprising accuracy and ease, considering how soft and flimsy that looping stem looked.

I understood, when the head of the other dildo pressed its way into my ass, how deceiving the appearance of those stems really was. The dildo was firmly suspended within the box in exactly the location and at exactly the angle Ryan had chosen. If I’d wanted to make this difficult, I could have swiveled my hips and made myself a moving target, but I could not have bent that stem to change the dildo’s position, not even if I’d pushed with all my strength.

I didn’t want to make it difficult. I stayed perfectly still and did my best to relax as it pushed its way in, all the way to the base.

Siobhan thrusted her way eagerly down onto hers, taking it in faster than it moved toward her.

“Enjoy that nice, easy cock while you can,” Ben advised Siobhan. “I’m only going to give you five thrusts before I increase the difficulty.”

The dildo pounded into her like a piston, irresistibly, and Siobhan continued thrusting her hips in the opposite direction, making the most of every hit.

Ryan pounded his surrogate cock into me with similar roughness. The friction along my nerves sent a tingle through my body, further hardening my tired and impatient erection.

Ben stopped Siobhan’s dildo at the back of a thrust, with its head just barely still poking into her. The part of it that was outside of her swelled visibly into its stringofbeads shape. Each bead was more than twice the size of the original dildo, at least three inches across.

“Here it comes, now,” Ben said. “Don’t forget to breathe.”

Slowly, bead by bead, he pushed the implement back in. Siobhan gasped and sighed with powerful sensation as each one crossed and stretched the muscles of her entrance.

“Does this hurt?” Ryan asked me, still pounding fast and hard with the original dildo shape.

I grunted an “uhuh.”

“I’ll make it bigger too, then,” he said. “I’d kind of like to hurt you a little, if you don’t mind.”

I managed not to laugh at him, though it was probably the greatest act of selfrestraint I’d performed all evening. I really didn’t want to derail whatever selfexploration he’d come here to work on. And I didn’t want to dissuade him from challenging me, either.

I moaned positively, and with no further prelude, I felt the appendage inside me rapidly triple in size, stretching and bumping and pressing on every side. Even knowing my own capabilities, and knowing the solid safety features of the box, there was a moment of instinctive panic, as my body questioned whether it could hold what it was being stuffed with.

Without a pause to get me used to the new dimensions, Ryan began thrusting again, just as hard and fast, pounding the newly enormous implement as deep as it would go.

It did hurt, though not as much as it unsettled me one moment, and aroused me the next.

I let out a groan of pleasure tinged with the slightly exaggerated pain that I hoped Ryan wanted.

Siobhan groaned with me, as this oversized continued for us both. We strained toward each other, trying to touch any part of each other’s hypersensitive skin, even if it was just our foreheads.

We were too far by millimeters.

After what felt like an eternity, Ben said to Ryan, “Hey, man, it’s time to start wrapping this up.”

“What do you mean?” Ryan whispered.

“You know,” said Ben. “Stop around and get them off.”

“Isn’t this supposed to get him off?”

Ben pressed a hand to his lips, to conceal their upward curling shape. “That’s a little advanced for you.”

“So, what, you’re saying I’m supposed to touch his…?”

“Dude, we paid extra to make them cum,” said Ben. “And we only get them for a limited timeslot. Do you want me to do them both?”

“No!” said Ryan, apparently more bothered by this suggestion than by the idea that a man might involve pleasuring a penis.

He extended another box appendage in front of me, formed it into a cylindrical sheath, and fitted it tentatively onto me. My whole body trembled instantly at the contact with its soft, tight interior.

At the same time, Ben prompted an additional prong to grow out of the appendage he was using on Siobhan. It lay flush with her clit and vibrated forcefully.

Ryan held the sheath completely still, but that worked just fine, with the dildo still me rhythmically into it from behind.

Siobhan and I reached helplessly for each other’s hands as we crashed over into orgasm, loudly, messily, and within a matter of seconds of each other.

I was floating in the thickest of hazes as I watched the box dispense my boxers, like a claw machine prize, into a collection slot on Ryan’s side.

Ben came around to pat him on the back, hold the boxers triumphantly aloft in Ryan’s hand, and congratulate him on a job well done.

“It’d be cool,” I panted vaguely. “If he ever got comfy with himself, enough that they’d want to know us in real life.”

“Huh?” Siobhan grunted, struggling to hold events as recent as thirty seconds ago in her pleasuredrunk mind.

At that moment, the chains holding our hands and feet in place began to lengthen, and two long straws emerged from the walls, offering rehydration.

Siobhan and I both stumbled forward to slump into each other’s arms. She kissed me, and I kissed her back. I’d been waiting to for so long, I didn’t know how I’d be able to pull away from her long enough to drink anything before the next phase of teasing, the next round of high bidders.

Somewhere in the background, Eva was announcing that we’d be secured on our knees for the next round.

The anchor points of the upper chains relocated themselves to the floor in preparation.

 

***

 

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