It’s the first night London’s largest gay sex club has opened since the pandemic began 17 months ago – and I’m standing in the middle of it with CUMDUMP scrawled across my back.
From the moment I walk in, I feel like a cut of meat that’s been thrown to a pack of ravenous wolves. There are hundreds of guys here in this dimly-lit place where provocative beats drown out any chance of conversation. The thought of being slave to these men tonight puts a smile on my face.
I’m 15 loads short of the 100-load challenge given to me by Treasure Island Media’s founder, Paul Morris. As you probably know by now, I’ve officially given myself up as his slave and property. My initiation into being TIM property is that I must take 100 loads. Two weeks into the challenge, and I’m so close.
Last time, I wrote about getting stuffed at both ends in London’s biggest sauna. Today’s diary is from later that same night, when I travelled across the city to the UK’s biggest sex club as it reopens for the first time since COVID.
I’ve been coming to this place for years – I’ve even written here about it before – but sitting in the cab on the way there, I don’t think I’d ever felt so excited about one of these nights before.
I’d walked through this club with CUMDUMP written on my back in black marker pen before. But I’d never felt such intensity from the gazes of the men around me. They understood it was an unconditional invitation.
I pictured hundreds of sex-starved men, denied the ability to unleash and fuck for so long, all turning up for their first real chance to unleash. To drink, dance, and fuck their way through the night until dawn.
In the fast-moving queue outside, I got chatting to a group of guys about our hopes for the night. Before long I was explaining to the three of them all about my slave initiation load target. They volunteered to help me out by adding a load each at some point in the night – they would later come through on that promise.
Inside, I found an empty corner to strip off. All I chose to wear for the night was a pair of military-style black boots, leather bulldog harness, baseball cap, a set of leather wrist cuffs, and of course, my chastity cage. No jockstrap, nothing to cover up either my ass or my cage. I needed the men there to know my purpose for being there was to be a hole.
And in just in case my nearly-naked dress code wasn’t subtle enough, I’d had a friend write the word CUMDUMP across my back in thick black marker pen.
Warming up with a few drinks at the bar, I spotted several guys who, before the pandemic stopped us all from attending the club, would regularly fuck me here.
“Get on your knees, faggot, and suck me off while I get a drink.” one of them ordered, pointing at the floor in front of his feet.
I don’t need to be told twice, so I dropped to my knees in front of him. He was a young guy, only slightly taller than me, slim but muscled. If his physique didn’t convey dominance, his attitude did. He’d fucked me at this club at least four or five times before, with his 7-inch uncut dick, and he never cared who watched.
He inched forward, pinning the back of my head against the bar and fucking my mouth while he waited for his chance to order. I was dimly aware of a large crowd watching. He pulled his dick out of my mouth and motioned for me to stand up and turn around. There was his drink, and one for me. But I hadn’t earned it yet, he was bending me over the bar.
I couldn’t miss the crowd now, watching me get fucked over the counter. A good few of them were getting closer, putting their hands on me, encouraging the man to fuck me. Their dirty words did the trick, and I felt load 86 being blown deep in my ass.
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“That drink on the bar is yours, boy,” he said. “But don’t touch it until every one of these guys here has finished with you.”
Bent over that bar, I took loads 87, 88, 89, 90, 91 and 92. I got a good look at the first few guys – some young, some old, one twink, one daddy, one somewhere in between. The last few I didn’t see, I just kept my head down, my hands firmly planted on the bar while my hole took a smashing.
A break gave me the chance to grab my drink, down it in one, and thank any of the men who were still standing around having just planted their seed in me. I couldn’t believe I was already seven loads in and the night had just begun.
I struck out from the bar and headed into the club’s dark maze area. It was packed with men, practically impassable in some places for the mass of bodies fucking in every corner and over every bit of furniture. The slings were full, male cumwhores with their legs in the air and queues of men lining up to keep them busy.
I’d walked through this club with CUMDUMP written on my back in black marker pen many times before. But I’d never felt such intensity from the gazes of the men around me. They understood it was an unconditional invitation.
I didn’t have to wait long until it was my turn again. A young, hung, twink in a full black rubber gimp suit approached me. The suit hid everything except his face and giant cock. He pointed to the only space available, an empty bit of wall, and gestured for me to face it.
Even having just had seven cocks in my hole, this twink’s dick was so big it was a struggle to take it. He didn’t care about my struggle, though. He just lined his thick tool up with my hole, and pulled me down onto it forcefully by my hips until it was balls deep. Another crowd had formed around us within seconds.
He put on a good show but he wasn’t performing, it was all natural. He reached up and slapped me around the face, slapped my ass cheeks, spat in my face and pushed my face into the wall with his hand. He was demonstrating to every man there what they could get away with doing to me.
His thrusts became more and more violent until load 93 was buried in my guts. When he pulled out I could feel my hole was no longer tight, fucked open by his huge cock.
It was replaced in instant by another. Smaller, but no less entitled to claim my hole. This dick, belonging to an older man with a beard and wearing nothing at all besides sneakers, quickly gave me load 94.
Looking behind me, there was a huge line of men so I kept my ass up and my face pressed into the wall. Two guys were next to step up, possibly friends or boyfriends. Both were tall, Latino guys with beautiful bodies. They gave me loads 95 and 96.
I stayed, face pressed into that wall, until I took loads 97, 98, 99, 100 and 101. When I realised I’d taken load 100 and completed my cumdump challenge I wanted to celebrate. I regret, though, that my hole was being fucked so freely by the assembled group of men that whoever gave it to me had already stepped away for the next man to take his place.
The men grew more animalistic as the night went on, and the fucking became rougher and more brutal. Some of them bordered on hate fucking.
The best way to celebrate, I thought, was to keep on getting fucked and bred. So I went upstairs, to a smaller area with a giant plastic-covered bed big enough for a dozen men to get fucked on at the same time. It was entirely covered in bodies, but as soon as I saw a space become free I dived in and got on my back, legs in the air.
I caught the eye of a slim, tattooed man standing off to the side, who came straight over, mounted me like a bitch, and slid his dick inside my hole. It wasn’t thick, but it was long, easily nine or 10 inches. He must have known it’d be a struggle, because he pounded load 102 inside me with my ankles hooked over his shoulders, my body pinned down to the bed beneath me and nowhere to wriggle away to. I could tell from his eyes he loved watching me suffer as his long cock stabbed my hole.
He climbed off and I took loads 103, 104, 105, and 106 from four more guys – including the three guys I spoke to in the queue outside the club earlier that night.
What I love about this club is that it caters for piss pigs too. There’s a set of open toilets, tucked away at the back, where really depraved sluts can get on their knees for men to use as urinals. That’s where I headed next.
There were several men standing around, rubbing their cocks, but not a single man on his knees in their midst. I got straight down and knelt by the large steel urinal trough and two men unleashed streams of piss all over my face in an instant. It was humiliating and degrading, and I loved it.
One of them was the slim tattooed guy with the long cock from earlier. He grabbed me by the back of the neck and pushed me face down, ass up. He positioned my face over the steel urinal trough and forced me to arch my back, offering my hole up. Placing one of his boots on the back of my head, he pushed down, forcing my face into the piss-soaked urinal, and telling the gathered men to take my hole any time they were ready.
Loads 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112 and 113 were all taken in my hole on the floor of that urinal. Men lined up and fucked my hole while others pissed all over my face as it was being held down on the floor.
The urinals grew quiet, then. There was a sex show taking place on the club’s main stage, with porn stars performing for the crowd. It was a good opportunity to wash and soap myself off, with the assistance of one guy who helped wipe me down. I have no problem wearing the piss of alpha men on my body, but the night wasn’t over and I didn’t want to put off any potential tops.
I took advantage of the quiet period that the stage performance brought on to hop into a now-empty sling. The guy who had washed me off in the urinals also helped me get my ankles in the stirrups and clipped my wrist cuffs to the sling chains behind me. I was fixed, hole exposed, ready for more.
Over the next hour I took loads 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123 and 124. The men only grew more animalistic as the night went on, and the fucking became rougher and more brutal. Some of them bordered on hate fucking. Maybe it was the 17 months of pent-up horniness, or the sight of a slave boy chained up in a sling with no way out and almost 40 loads of cum leaking from his now-gaping hole.
I knew I couldn’t possibly do any more when the harsh, bright, white lights on the club ceiling were switched on and the music turned down. It was a sign that it was time to go home. Turns out there’s always room for one more load, though.
Standing in the line for the bag check to collect my stuff, an incredibly tall lad with a swimmer’s build approached me and asked if he could give me one last load before I went home. Of course I said yes. He dragged me by the harness out of my place in the queue and over towards the toilets, where he shoved me roughly into a cubicle and locked the door. He spun me around by my shoulders, spat on his cock, and shoved it in, clamping one hand over my mouth and holding his other arm around my neck.
It may have been quick, but it was one of my favourite loads of the night. Once he’d given me load 125, he slapped my ass and disappeared without a word.
It was now 6am and it was warm outside so I walked home, feeling cum leaking from my hole the entire way. I must have looked crazy, smiling to myself the whole way home, leather harness and straps still visible under my tank top. I was already thinking of the next challenge.
TOMMY’S LOAD COUNT: 125/100
CHALLENGE COMPLETED ✅
The next challenge
We all know a slave’s training is never done. Faggot slaves need constant training to remind them of their place in the world – serving real men. What should the next challenge be? Leave your ideas in the comments below.
The Slave Diary
of Tommy Trash
I’m Tommy, and I’m a natural-born submissive slut. So I’ve given myself to Treasure Island Media and its founder Paul Morris to turn me into the ultimate slave. To live a life of depravity, sex, and abuse.
Write to me to let me know how I’m doing, to arrange to fuck me, degrade me or just say “hello faggot”.
The Slave Diary of Tommy Trash
I’m Tommy, and I’ve always been a naturally submissive slut. But I want to be pushed deeper into this lifestyle. So I’ve given myself to Treasure Island Media and its founder Paul Morris to rework me into the ultimate slave. To live a life of depravity, sex, and abuse.