Full Fetish Gimp

“Okay, it’s time,” he shouted at me over the sound of thumping music. I gulped — are we really going through with this? What did he have planned?

We walk over to the cloak room at the club to grab my bag. He doesn’t say anything once I have it; he just walks off and I’m expected to follow. We go over to the sofa area in the resting lounge, and he sits down. With a nod, he gestures to the middle of the sitting area.

Fuck, he expects me to change here in front of everyone.

At the moment, I’m dressed pretty smart. I have my full leather look on — trousers, shirt, tie, boots, waist coat and a Sam Browne belt. I’ve been told before that I look pretty dominant wearing all of that. While I don’t believe that what you wear is an indication of your inclination, I get what they mean.

When he first arrived at my place earlier in the evening and we were deciding on what gear I would wear to the Full Fetish event, he also said that I looked pretty Dommy when I paraded that look for him. He wanted me to wear something more suited to my actual role but I was eager to wear it because I don’t often get the opportunity to.

Then I saw a glint in his eye.

“Fine. We’ll spend an hour or so dressed the way you like. You can socialise with your friends, maybe boss a couple of people around if you feel like it. And then, we’ll get you changed into this.”

Oh fuck.

So, here I am, about to get changed. The past hour or so have been nice catching up with friends. And I may have also gotten a couple of blowjobs, although I wasn’t allowed to cum.

“Hurry up, then.” He rolls his eyes. I start to feel flush from embarrassment. I feel as if all eyes are on me as I slowly undress from all my leather, fold them and place them into the bag.

Once naked, I pull out a smaller bag which contain the items he had picked out for me to change into. First, I put on the tiny rubber shorts. Then, the socks and boots come on again. There are only a couple of things left in the bag — a rubber hood, and my favourite pecker gag. I put them both on.

I walk over to him when he waves me over and unzips my shorts. He puts my chastity device on me. It’s now been more than 10 days since I have cum. Then he put on the nipple clamps before cuffing my hands behind my back.

“And now, for the final touch.”

He says this as he pulls out a Sharpie from his pocket. Just above the shorts, he writes — “horny locked boy”. On my upper chest, he pens my Twitter handle.

We walk back to the cloak room and check the bag in again. Then the blindfold is put on me. For the next hour or so, he guides me through the party. I can’t hear very well so I am unsure if he is talking to any of the friends I had introduced him to earlier in the evening. I can tell he is having conversations though. Throughout that, I feel the Sharpie on my body again.

Over the course of the night, many people had obviously taken turns writing on my body. I wondered how long it would be before it was full — the two things he wrote were meant to be the border to make sure no one wrote on my neck and above.

Occasionally, I could feel guys tugging at my nipple clamps. Other times, the front of my shorts were unzipped and my chastity device pulled out for all to see. A couple of instances, I felt someone licking my balls, which just made me hornier in the chastity device.

All that time, I was just a gimp. Practically a whiteboard gimp.

Eventually, he takes the blindfold off and I find that we are back at the resting lounge. By my feet is my bag form the cloak room.

“Take your hood and gag off. Then, I want you to put on your leather trousers, Sam Browne belt and your waist coat.”

I do as ordered and pack the rest of the items into the bag.

“Now, let’s check the bag in again and go get you a drink, you deserve it.”

We walk out of the cloak room and into the crowd when I saw a bunch of my friends at the bar. As we get closer, I seethe smirk on their faces. Then it hit me.

Wearing a waistcoat means all the writing on my body is visible. He’s made me put on almost all of the leather gear back except my shirt so that people who didn’t realise I was the gimp earlier would recognise me now. I stop in my tracks and stare at him.

He looks back at me, grabbed at my chastity device through my leather trousers and says, while tugging on my nipple clamps:

“Well, at least now no one will think you’re a Dom.”