The Billionaire's Hotwife: Confessions of a Submissive Trophy Wi
How did I get myself into this mess? That's what I kept asking myself as I shifted my arms around in the black lace-up monoglove armbinder that held my arms tightly behind me, pressing my elbows together behind my back, pressing my chest out and making it rather difficult to breathe. The big red ball-gag in my mouth didn't help either. I was wearing nothing but a tiny, skimpy, tight, black latex bikini, the lower triangle of which barely covered my sex, and a pair of three-inch red stilettos. There were mirrors around the main floor of my hubby's mansion, and I must say, despite my predicament, I must admit I looked fucking hot!
This would be the ultimate fantasy for me, to look good for my husband like this, if only it were just me and him. But there were nearly a hundred people at the party that night, and as far as I could tell, I was the only one there to this degree of undress, and in this degree of helplessness. And inexplicably, I was horny as hell. My bikini bottom was practically soaked by the juices produced by my own excitement, and I wondered just how many of these friends and strangers could tell. It was certainly just about all I could think about at that moment.
You're probably wondering the same thing as I was at this point. How did I get into this mess? It was so humiliating! Why did I ever agree to this? And why, oh, why was I so turned on? Six months ago, I would never have dared wear an outfit like this in public. Not even to the beach! And to wear it and be helpless in an armbinder and gagged? I might as well have been wearing a "rape me" sign! I could feel the eyes of all the men at the party exploring every contour of my exposed body, and it was strangely so exciting! There were even some women eyeing me eagerly, which also un-eased me a little, but in a different way. I've always had to deal with a little male attention, looking the way that I do. But female attention too? I couldn't tell yet whether that made it more exciting or more intimidating. I suppose it was really a combination of both. But how did I get here exactly?
Well, I'm glad you asked. Let me backtrack just a little. And by a little, I mean…well…
It all began just over three years ago. I'd just finished my master's degree in English and was pondering the ramifications of a life of highly literate, abject poverty, and working my days at a bakery while moonlighting as coat check girl at a local club. Back then, I used to marvel at the outfits that some of the girls would wear there. It wasn't your typical club, and instead had a number of "specialty" nights, including "mod" night, "disco" night, "swingers" night, and of course, "fetish" night. Fetish night was when the really freaky people used to come out, men and women wearing all kinds of leather and other fetish gear. Some of these outfits would be quite revealing, and of course, that meant that during the colder months, I had a lot of coats to check.
It was one particularly cold winter's night in New York when I first met the man I would later marry, Gary Bennett. At the time, I had little idea who he even was, having spent most of my young life with my face buried deeply in one fiction book or another. All I knew was that he was gorgeous, and that I had to take his coat and be polite. I must have checked nearly 500 coats that night, and I was feeling pretty flustered, and my hair was a mess, but I hadn't been nearly so conscious about it until he walked in, and handed me his coat. He looked so damn hot…with his effortless hair…and his well defined muscles bulging under the tight black T-shirt he wore… Mmm…He was a vision any girl would drool over…and I would never have guessed back then that in addition to being a dreamboat stud, he would also turn out to be a billionaire! A model? Perhaps. Or perhaps I might have believed he was some kind of movie star. Or a rock star. He does have a knack for playing guitar it so happens, but that's not really how he made his money. Anyway…the point is…he was gorgeous, it was halfway through the night, and I probably looked like I'd been living under a bus shelter. I can't tell you how desperately I ached just looking at him when I first saw him, and exchanged the briefest of hellos. Then he was off to the floor with his date.
The date that he had brought was also gorgeous, of course—some Asian supermodel looking to make a name for herself in America. She must have noticed the way I looked longingly at her date at the time, because she gave me the dirtiest, most hateful of look, as if to say: back off: he's mine, before stalking after him, with her riding crop in her hand. As if I was any threat to her anyway. She was a sexy model wearing a leather corset. I looked like I was down to my last set of unsoiled linens on laundry day.
As the night dragged on, I saw him from time to time, socializing with some of the other leather clad men and women, and taking turns tying up and teasing some blindfolded, gagged redheaded girl. I remember wondering how it would feel to be her, and have all those men, especially that gorgeous muscular man in the black T-shirt, manhandle me, and tease me, and abuse me. And I remember trying to sneak in a few touches to my unmentionables, my fingers beneath my panties, while no one was looking—because really—everything he was doing to that girl was making me so hot. So horny. Even the Asian woman he'd walked in with was turning me on in her own way, albeit a frightening one. I got the sense that she genuinely hated the poor redhead, and started whipping her on the ass and tits quite hard. It ended up starting an argument, and the redheaded girl left crying.
After a time, the Asian woman came back to my booth and demanded her coat, and I struggled to find it. She'd lost the number of course, and so I didn't know how to locate her coat. I had to ask the terrifying woman for a description, and she kept calling me incompetent and threatening me with her riding crop, and in a way, I was kind of thrilled by the idea that she would do that. I'd never experienced such viscous behavior before. But then—and I won't get into explicit details—but she said something quite mean to me. She implied that I was nothing, and would never attract the kinds of men that she could, and that's when he came by again.
"Is there a problem?" he asked.
"This useless blonde bimbo can't find my coat."
He looked at me flatly, without any apparent harshness or judgment, and I returned a look of sheepishness. Then he looked at his Asian companion.
"Here," he said, handing me his number. It should be the red coat right next to mine."
I went to get it.
"Yes, that's it. Right there."
"But I can't just give it back without the number," I said, feeling stupid as I said so, as it was kind of lame. Why would she lie about her stupid coat? But still, I was really cross with this woman for some reason. I'd done nothing to her, and she was treating me like an inferior, and…well…to be honest—if I'm to be completely honest—I imagine I was jealous that she got to ride around with the likes of Gary Bennett, probably drinking champagne in a heated limo, while I had to walk home alone in the cold winter air, to my small apartment. To sleep alone. Though it was probably for the best, since watching this hot stud dominate that redhead tonight had given me plenty to think about while I played with myself in bed tonight.
"Don't worry about that," he said. "I'll take full responsibility. Here, take my card. Just in case there's a problem later. I'll come running."
He gave me his card, and then, seeing his name, that's when I first realized who he was: one of the most powerful, eligible bachelors in Manhattan.
Then he left with his Asian companion, and I expected that he would be leaving my life for good. But then, they argued for a few more minutes, and then she left alone, and he came back.
"I'm sorry if you think this forward of me, but what's your name?"
It took me a few moments to let it sink in that this handsome man was talking to me.
"Kayla," I said.
"It's nice to meet you, Kayla."
"It's nice to meet you too, um…" and then I faltered. He'd just handed me his card, and I'd already blanked on his name.
"Gary," he said. "Gary Bennett."
"Yes, sorry," I said. "It said that on your card."
"Tell me, Kayla. What's a girl as pretty as you doing stuck working coat check alone for this club? There's nearly five hundred people here."
And I blushed. I wouldn't have thought a gorgeous guy like him would think I was pretty. I didn't know what to say to that.
"Normally there are two of us," I said. "But the other girl got sick at the last minute."
"Must be hell. It's going to be really rough when the others start leaving, and you're scrambling to hand back 500 coats."
"Oh god, don't remind me," I said. "I'm trying not to think about that."
"Maybe you'd like some help," he urged.
"Seriously?" I asked, more out of disbelief than out of any objection I might have. Because really, I felt elated at the prospect of a helper for the rest of the night. Not just because I really needed the help and I'd been dreading this part, but because he was really hot, and I really did want the chance to talk with him a little more. And maybe ask him about what a girl needs to do to get invited to these sorts of parties.
"I'm always serious," he said with a wry smile. "Except when I'm not. But you look like you could use the help. And how could I ignore a woman in need? Especially when she's as pretty as you."
I imagine I must have turned beat red. I had to look away. The flattery was so shameless and yet…so genuine. And what girl doesn't want to hear about how pretty she is from such a hot guy?
"I don't know if the owners will like you back here."
"Pff…I own one third of this club. I am one of the owners."
I gave him a look of incredulity. Then I looked at the card. It listed the club at the bottom.
"Oh my god," I said. "You are."
"And I'm not going to very well throw myself out," he said.
"Well," I said. "Then I don't think I can turn you down."
I, of course, meant that in a number of ways, though for the time being, I was glad for the help. And that's how Gary and I began our first date, if you can call it that. Neither of us did at the time, but when we look back on it now, that's what it was. It was the beginning of a very promising relationship. One based on mutual respect and attraction, and his coming to my rescue.
Or so I thought!
What a naïve woman I was back then. A naïve, presumptuous woman who needed to be taught a lesson.
As the night went on, and we had a little back and forth banter, and then the people began to come back to the coat check area in larger waves. Gary was right there with me, rushing to find all the right coats as quickly as possible. At one point, I had been taking too long with a number, and that's when he smacked me on the ass with his hand. Hard!
"Ow," I said, looking back at him in a combination of shock and…another feeling I couldn't yet identify. I think it may have been excitement. Or perhaps just plain arousal.
"Hurry up," he snapped in a commanding voice. "You should be faster than this. Get the man his coat."
"Yes sir," I said sarcastically, and went to look for the number.
Then he followed me, just inside one of the aisles, a little beyond where we could be seen. Then he pressed me against the far wall.
"If I wanted you calling me sir," he said. "You'd be wearing a collar. And considerably less clothing. And probably handcuffs. You should know better than to tease me like that."
I didn't know what to say. It was just so unexpected. So…hot! I felt like I could barely breathe.
"I'm sorry," I said. "You just look like a sir."
"I do, do I?" he said, pressing me against the wall with one bulky, strong, well-toned arm.
"Yes," I said. "The way you took command of that redheaded woman earlier."
"I don't know her name," I said, still breathing heavily.
"Don't call me sir again," he said. "It's okay for other people. But when you say it, I don't know, Kayla. There's something about the way you say it. Makes me want to strip you, tie you up and…"
He stopped himself short and took a breath and tried to straighten his collar, then realizing that he was in a T-shirt, but was probably used to suits.
"…Do things to you," he finished.
"Is that so…?" I said, with a naughty smile. "…Sir."
He roughly put a hand up to my throat and let me feel a little bit of his strength, and he smiled, but not like before. Before he smiled the way a friendly neighbor smiles at another neighbor. But now he was smiling at me at me in a way that was dark and predatory. And I liked it!
"I knew it," he said triumphantly. "You're a natural submissive, aren't you?"
"Yes," I said, not fully understanding at the time what it truly was to be a submissive. I knew I wanted to be taken. Especially by a hot alpha stud like him, but to what extent at the time, I didn't know. I hadn't the faintest idea just how boundless my limits were when it came to him.
That was the first time that we kissed, there, behind all those coats, and for a panicked moment, I thought he was going to rip off my clothes right there and fuck me behind the coats. Or would that have been what I wanted? Probably a combination of both. Isn't that always the way with the men that excite us? To a certain extent, from time to time, don't we all just want to be taken?
We gave the coats back to all of their rightful owners, and the night seemed to drag and would not end. I kept wanting Gary to do something like that again, but he didn't, though every now and again, I'd get a knowing smile from him. And he did smack my ass several more times to hurry me up, and also once just for kicks, because I know that time I hadn't been slow, and when I looked back at him, rubbing my sore ass cheek, he simply smiled at me mischievously. My panties were so wet by then I worried I'd wet myself.
When the place emptied out, and we finally left and got outside, that's when I got another kiss. This one was sweeter, and lasted awhile longer.
Gary and I kissed for awhile, just outside the club, as the snow gently floated down in the dead of the cold winter's night.
"I don't want to let you go," he said finally.
"I don't want you to let me go either," I admitted with some relief.
He smiled at me.
"What shall I do with you then?
"Do you want to come home with me?" I asked, biting my lip, hoping that wasn't a little too forward.
He smiled again.
"You're sure I can't at least buy you dinner first?"
"I am pretty hungry actually," I admitted.
"Come on. I know a good place nearby."
I'm not sure why exactly I was surprised when the limo showed up. I had expected us to walk, though I wasn't looking forward to walking in the cold. Though I realize I'd probably have walked off the Brooklyn Bridge if it was with him…
We got into the back of the limo, and there was a candlelit dinner, already waiting for us.
"How did you do that?" I said with an excited laugh.
"Magic," he said.
I laughed. It was a little white lie of course. Later I would learn that on a number of occasions, Gary had used this trick on a number of women he'd lured back to his limo. Well, perhaps "lured" is a strong word. That makes him sound like too much of a predator. Then again, he is kind of a predator, in his way. Just not the kind a girl needs to be afraid of. Well, not afraid for her safety, anyway. Her maidenhead on the other hand...I couldn't imagine a woman with the will power to turn down a beguiling buck like him. Apparently most women could not either. Weeks later, when I got more acquainted with Chet, his limo driver, he would say "I don't know how he does it, but Gary always leaves the party with whatever girl he wants. Gary Bennett always gets what he wants." And that's the point I figured out that he'd probably ordered that dinner prepared before he'd even cast eyes on me. He knew he could have any woman he wanted, and he just wanted to be prepared. I had to laugh at that.
At the time, however, it just felt so romantic, and though it was something he'd sort of prepared to ambush me with, I think he got as much out of our romantic candle-lit limo ride as I did. His predatory eyes were still there, but for the time being, the polite neighborly banter continued, and we learned a little about one another, and before the ride was over, perhaps because I'd drunk one or two too many glasses of wine, I'd admitted I was watching him dominate that Yvette girl, and that I'd touched myself a few times because I just couldn't stand it.
"You want—no—you need to be dominated," he said, not as a question. Just as a statement.
"If it's by you, I do," I said.
"Well, we're here," he said.
I looked out, and sure enough, as promised, he'd brought me home.
"Would you still like me to come in with you?"
"Yes," I said.
So he sent Chet home with the limo, and followed me in.
"Sorry the place is such a mess," I said.
He didn't say anything. He just started eagerly kissing me again, pressing me against the door. Clearly he didn't notice the mess. Or he didn't care.
He tore off my clothing, article by article until I was down to my bra and panties, while I struggled to get him down to his boxers. He helped a little too, and when it came time to undoing his tie, he took it off and held it in one hand while deftly unhooking my bra with his other.
"Turn around," he said.
"Don't make me ask again," he said, a little danger in his voice.
I did as I was told, and then he pulled my hands behind my back, and then tied them tightly, painfully tightly, with his tie. Then he spun me back around.
Then he kissed me again.
I instinctively pulled at my hands, which were tied quite securely behind my back. It was as though I'd already forgotten. I wanted to touch his face, and his beautiful, muscular chest. But also, feeling this helpless with him made my pussy so wet! I just wanted him to tear my panties off and fuck me already!
He pulled away from the kiss finally, leaving me aching for more. He took off his belt, and folded it over twice in his hand, and then struck me on the ass with it. Not terribly hard, but it felt like a slap, and I wondered if it was going to leave a welt.
"That's for making me ask twice. Don't let it happen again."
"Yes sir," I said.
He whipped my other ass check with the belt.
"You know how I feel about calling me sir. Only my submissives call me sir. So don't you dare call me sir unless you mean it."
"Yes sir," I said.
He whipped me again.
"Please sir, let me be your submissive, sir," I said.
"I'm way too fucking horny to discipline you properly tonight," he said. "Lead me to your room so I can fuck you."
I paused for the briefest of moments. I'm not sure why. I wanted to lead him to my room. I desperately wanted him to fuck me. I think I was just trying process everything.
"Now," he shouted, and I felt the sting of his belt across my ass again.
"Yes sir!" I said.
He whipped me again.
"Hurry up. Don't make me wait."
I hurried along to my room, and then I had to turn to grasp at the handle of my door behind my back. As I did so, Gary leaned in close, and I couldn't concentrate.
"What's the holdup?"
"Sorry…um…I…I'm not used to opening doors with my hands tied like this."
He smiled. He reached behind me and opened the door and let us into the room, and then shut the door behind us.
The room was dark. I looked at his dark, unreadable face in the city light and moonlight that filled the room. He peered around the room, and then back at me as I stood there in nothing but my panties, with my hands bound behind me. I was feeling very exposed. Feeling like I was about to be devoured by some kind of apex sex predator.
He stalked up to me and then his powerful frame loomed over mine like a phantom.
"Get on your knees," he said.
I did so without a word. Then he took his belt and looped it around my neck, and then pulled it until it was tight, almost, but not quite choking me. Then he used the free end of it as a kind of leash, pulling me forward a little.
"I want you to suck my cock, Kayla."
Then he pulled his boxers down, and his cock sprang out.
His cock was so…big. Much bigger than I'd expected. It looked so hard and so swollen… He must have been really excited! I think at that moment I felt just a combination of excitement and fear in my pussy. Would he be able to fit without really hurting me? I hoped so. I was so wet now. That's about all I had time to think before he thrust his cock into my mouth, while simultaneously tugging at the belt that now acted as a kind of choking collar.
"Mmm," he said, as he slowly, but firmly pulled me in and then back out, coaxing me to take in the head of his cock. Thankfully, he didn't try to force it too far in at first. I had this fear that I would gag, and that would be humiliating. I wanted so badly to please him. But I wanted him to fuck me too.
He probably forced me to suck his cock for another two minutes or so, so for two minutes, there was just us in the dark, me staring into his unreadable dark eyes as they stared deeply back into mine. Then, finally, he pulled out and spoke again.
"I can't stand it anymore," he said. "Get up."
He tugged at the belt, forcing my back up and onto my feet, then he pulled the belt again like a leash and led me to the bed.
Then he kissed me passionately again, this time biting down on my lower lip. Hard. So hard I yelped. Then he pushed me so that my knees buckled against the edge of the bed and I fell backwards onto it. Then he roughly pulled me up a little so my that head was behind the pillow.
"Condoms?" he asked.
"I don't think I have any," I said, feeling a bit pathetic as I did. It had been some time since I'd shared my bed with anyone.
He seemed to smile at this, almost in satisfaction, and disappeared outside the room for a few moments, leaving me there on the bed, my hands feeling a little numb behind me now, my neck feeling a little bit choked, but in a way that was obviously turning me on. My panties felt so wet now that you would think I'd just gone swimming! Then Gary came back with a packet. He tore it open and covered his massive erect cock with it.
Then Gary climbed onto the bed, and finally peeled off my panties. I breathed heavily now, so ready for him to take me I ached. I was so impatient now! Gary climbed on top of me and then began to slowly push his cock into my pussy. And I thought it would hurt, but it slid in so easily I felt suddenly that his amazing cock had been made just for me! I let out a gasp of both shock and delight.
He thrust in and out, slowly at first, an animalistic look on his face. One of his hands felt around at my face and throat, while the other gripped the pillow behind me as leverage to force himself in and out of me. And it was the first time I'd ever felt so completely possessed by man. It was too much for me. I could feel a major orgasm coming on, and it was going to be violent, and I was going to be very loud!
"Oh god, I'm going to come," I moaned.
"Not without permission you're not," he said.
"Please, sir, please do I have permission to come?"
"No, just wait."
I couldn't wait. Everything about this position just made me so fucking hot. I came. Hard. And I screamed.
Until he slapped me. Hard. Across the face. That shut me up. I stared back at him in a combination of fear, anger and lust.
"Wait for permission, next time" he said.
There's going to be a next time? I remember thinking. The thought made me feel overjoyed. I really wanted there to be a next time. Because really, no man was going to be able to satisfy me after this.
"Yes sir!" I laughed.
"What are you smiling about?" he said.
"This is the best fucking sex I've ever had," I moaned. Evidently this was the right answer, because he began grunting immediately, and made a face that harkened back to another time—maybe a time when we didn't have so many rules and formalities—and men like Gary took what they wanted, and women like me loved it!
After that, he rolled off me, untied my hands, and we talked for awhile, all that sexual tension between us gone, for the time being.
"There's something special about you, Kayla Grace," he said, stroking my hair gently. We exchanged a smile. I felt safe now, like that, with him. It was like he was two people. One that was fond of me, the way a nice boy is sweet on a nice girl, and the one that wanted make that girl into a dirty slut who screamed for more dirty sex! And I was in love with both of them.
Then we fell asleep together in my cozy bed. And I slept better that night than I had in years.
I still touch myself when I think about our first night together. It seems so long ago now. We've certainly come a long way since then. He's had ample time to train me, during our last two years of marriage. Master has been slowly been breaking me. Molding me. Shaping me. Yes, I call him Master now, when we're within the confines of the mansion. Especially when I'm in confines, if you get my meaning. And he's slowly been preparing me, though for what, I was only about to find out.
It wasn't until just half an hour ago that I realized what Master had planned for me this evening. And even now, I'm not entirely sure how deep exactly this scenario was going to go.
We were upstairs in the bedroom, getting ready for the party. I'd just put on a coquettish French maid's dress for the occasion, something I already thought was suitably humiliating for the occasion.
"How do I look?" I asked Master, as he adjusted his bow tie. He would of course, be wearing a tuxedo while hosting the party. And he looked so good in it. I beam with pride whenever I look at him now, knowing he's mine. Or I suppose more accurately, i am His.
He kissed me then, and groped at my breasts. I purred with pleasure.
"Take it off," he said.
The old me would have asked what he had planned, but the new me knew better than to question Master. I stripped it off without hesitation.
"The bra and panties too," he said.
I bit my lip and did as I was told. I sort of wanted him right then. It was amazing how quickly he could raise that desire in me now, just by the commanding tone of his voice. I was so ready to be fucked.
"Put this on," he said, and handed me the teeny, tiny latex bikini we'd bought together a few months back. It looked good on me, and fit me well, like a tiny, form-fitting glove for my tits and crotch. But it was so skimpy! It just barely covered my lady parts.
I put it on, and then coyly and demurely looked over my shoulder at him. He smiled.
"Perfect," he said with a devilish smile.
Then he brought out the black, leather, lace-up monoglove armbinder, and began to fasten it onto me, pinning my arms behind my back. He laced it up quite tightly, and I could feel my elbows getting pressed together. This was something we had had to build up to gradually. It had taken a lot of yoga and stretching before I was finally able do this, but then when I saw the way Master looked at me—so proud and full of lust—once I could do it, it had all seemed worth it.
"You'll want some nice shoes to add to the ensemble. Add some color. Here, wear these."
He took out my red three-inch stilettos, which close with a strap at the top—which he obviously had to help me with, given that my arms were now bound—and then I was wearing my shoes.
"There. Now you've got a little more height."
Master still towered over me, but these shoes did still make me feel a little more powerful. Plus, I loved the way they made my legs look. Or rather, I knew Master loved the way they made my legs look. I suppose that was all that mattered.
Then he took out a black collar and clasped it around my neck, looped a short leash through it—which hung down in a neat little loop that he could fit a few fingers through—that hung just past my belly button.
"There," he said. "You look so hot right now—I just want to fuck you."
"So what's stopping you, Master?" I said with a sultry smile as I bit my lip.
He returned a mischievous smile.
"Oh there will be time for that later, doll. But first, there's so much we need to do."
I looked at him imploringly.
"The party's in fifteen minutes," I said. "If you didn't want to fuck me now, then…"
He smiled. "You're going to make so many people happy tonight, doll." He leaned in close to my ear. "Me most of all."
"Master, you can't…"
He raised an eyebrow at me. I should have chosen my words better. I can't tell him what he can't do. And the look he gave me told me I knew better. And I did know better. But still…
"…You can't seriously expect me to go to the party looking like this," I objected.
He grabbed the loop of the leash and pulled my in close so that our faces were inches apart.
"I expect you to do exactly as you're told, slave."
"Yes, Master," I said, looking down, feeling stupid for saying anything, but also feeling fear at what was to come. I was so exposed like this. I loved it when master saw my body like this, loved the way it drove him wild with desire. But I didn't want others to see me like this. But if Master wanted it…and if I wanted to please Master, then…
"We're going to play a little game, doll. This is something I've wanted to do for a long time. And you may not have realized this, but you've been training for this your whole life. At least our whole married life."
He ran his hands up and down my quivering body. I ached with a desire for him to ravish me. My pussy ached for his deft fingers and his big, hard, perfect cock. But I was beginning to realize that it was going to be a very long night. What did he have in store for me I wondered?
So he told me.
The rules were simple. Tonight, I was to be everyone's slave. Not just his. Everyone's. Anyone at the party who wanted to have fun with me, touch me, use me, could do so. I had to comply. I was to go down with him, to the party, in front of all those people. I would be gagged too. And I would mingle with the crowd, and whosoever wanted to touch me, he told me, would likely be polite and ask. But that was a formality apparently, for I wasn't permitted to turn anyone down, no matter what they looked like, and no matter what they asked of me. No act was too depraved. If I was asked, I had to nod ascent. That was all I was allowed to do. I was everyone's slave, and as Master always says, when a slave is asked to do something, she does it.
"But Master, what if a man wants…you know…" I said.
"Wants what? Be specific, doll."
"What if he wants me to…you know…fuck him?"
"Then you fuck him."
"You can't be serious," I said.
He put one hand behind my neck and the other around my throat, and pulled me close to his face.
"Don't I look serious?" he asked.
I gasped, then sighed out a response.
"Good," he said.
"But Master, what if someone really hurts me."
His expression softened.
"No one is going to hurt you, doll," he said. "They've been members of the BDSM community long enough to understand the concept of safe, sane and consensual. And you will of course be consenting, won't you?"
"Besides, even if they don't understand the rules, they wouldn't dare really hurt you. They know who you are. And some of them are quite looking forward to this."
"They knew about this?"
"Of course," he chuckled. "Some of my friends have confessed to how badly they would love a chance to play with you. To dominate you. To take you. What kind of friend would I be if I wasn't willing to share?"
He walked back to the bedside table and then took out a red ball-gag.
"Now, open wide," he said.
"Wait," I said, with maybe more desperation in my voice than I liked. I wanted to object, but at the same time, I didn't want to contradict Master. Master must have read the panic on my face, because he stopped, and his voice softened.
"Kayla," he said, "honey, I love you. I won't make you do this. If this goes beyond your limits, that's fine. I'm sorry. I thought you were ready. I still do. But if you want to back out, that's fine, but I know there's a part of you that really wants to do this. That your inner submissive wants to take her relationship to the next level and be a submissive I can share. I know that deep down, you'll enjoy doing this, primarily because I can promise you, that I'm going to thoroughly enjoy watching you get swarmed by all my horny friends at the party."
And him having said all of this, the sweet boy coming out for just a moment, was all I needed to hear, and then I really did feel ready.
"Okay," I said.
"Okay, Master," I said.
He let out a laugh. "Okay Master what?
"Okay, Master, I'll do it? I'll be a good slave for anyone who wants to use and abuse me at your party while you watch."
"Good girl," he said. "Now, open wide."
So there I was, at the beginning of the party, bound, gagged, and covered by little more than a latex bikini at a party filled with my husband's friends, feeling like a piece of food that's been left unattended, with a horde of flies circling around me.
I looked up at the landing. My husband stood up there, looking powerful in his tux, watching over me. I felt I would be safe as long as he was watching me, but I didn't know about all these people. And that's when I noticed that I wasn't just being ogled by his male friends. I was being ogled by some of the women too. Even, I realized to my horror, his dominatrix friend Mei Wen.
Remember Mei Wen? She was the Asian supermodel I first saw him with, way back three years ago when I was nothing more than a coat check girl. Now I was Gary's trophy wife, and I knew from every interaction I had with Mei that she resented me for it, and I feared that now, she was about to get her chance at some serious revenge. I had heard that she could be quite the cruel mistress. Back in the early days of dating Gary, they had usually found some submissive to torment until they couldn't stand it, and then fucked each other. It had become a point of contention for her, because he would stare at their submissive while they fucked. He had told me that he had loved Mei for a time, but that in the end, he'd had to admit that they weren't exactly compatible. They were both pure dominants. Then he had met me, and it had all changed. And Mei, who should have moved on, instead developed a serious grudge.
I looked up at Master again. If things get too bad down here, if I'm distressed, you'll come to my rescue, right? But alas, all I could do was look up at him longingly with my eyes, my mouth gagged, such as it was.
"Hello Kayla," came a friendly voice. It was Chet. Remember Chet? Gary's limo driver? I hadn't expected to see him at the party, given the nature of their relationship, but then again, I had realized through talking to him over the years that he and Gary went way back. All the way back to high school, actually. He and Gary apparently used to get up to quite a bit of mischief together, back in the day.
Chet's actually quite a handsome guy. He's not as tall as Gary, but shares this almost unwavering expression of confidence on his face. He's also black, for what that's worth, and he's gone bald, though in a really sexy way. He shaves his head and it just makes him look all the more confident. And evidently, he's quite built. Usually when I see him, he's wearing a suit and hat when chaperoning me around town. But now, seeing him in a muscle shirt, I couldn't help but see he was really quite the muscular stud himself.
"Mff," I said, seeing him and nodding, a nervous smile probably apparent on my face. I would have issues being coherent with this gag in my mouth. I gathered that was the point. That in my interactions with people, for the most part, the imposing of will would be one-way. They would talk, I would listen. They would dispense, I would receive. They would command. I would obey.
"So did Gary tell you everything?"
"And let me guess. He told you like, fifteen minutes ago."
I smiled and nodded again.
"That's Gary Bennett for you," he said. "I mean, look at him," he said, gesturing his head up to Gary who seemed to watch over the whole party he was hosting like some kind of overseer. Well, I guess in a way, he technically was the overseer. "Hasn't changed a bit over the years has he? What I'd do with all his hair. Or his money. Or you," he said with a smile.
Chet eyed me up and down. It was an odd feeling. I'd never thought of Chet in that way before. I mean, he's really handsome, sure. But he'd always been just our chauffeur. But now, feeling his eyes on me like that, smiling at me like that, I realized he was also man, with his own urges. It was actually kind of hot! He'd probably thought about me a lot over the years, I realized. Probably stolen some glances at me in the back seat when I wasn't looking. And this realization was making me a bit wet for him…which was strange because before this moment, I never would have looked at a man that wasn't my sexy husband. But now…
"Listen," he said. "I know this all seems pretty sudden and all, but Gary, he used to do this kind of thing all the time. The old Gary. The old Gary that I can see is coming back. Back when we were in college, we used to share a lot of things. A lot. Of. Things. He changed a lot when he met you, you know."
He did? I thought. I had never realized that. I mean, I had sure changed a whole lot. But I wouldn't have thought I could change Master. He was always a rock to me. My rock. Who was also hard as a rock…
"But I knew Gary couldn't hold out forever. He told me he was just waiting for you to be ready. Do you feel ready, Missus Bennett?"
I honestly still didn't know. So I shrugged.
"That's okay," he said. "Listen. Gary told me all about what was going down tonight. Everybody but you till just now apparently. But don't you worry, Missus Bee. He told me to keep an eye out for you. And these people…they're good people. I don't think anything bad's going to happen. Well, I mean, bad things will happen, but nothing too bad. The good kind of bad. Know what I'm sayin', girl?"
I nodded. That did make me feel quite a bit better. I trusted Chet. I spent a lot of time alone with him, and I always felt about as safe with him as I did with Master.
"Just let me know if you need something, okay? Like if you have to go to the little girl's room, just blink at me or something."
He smiled looking me up and down again.
"May I?" he said, extending a palm to my breast.
"Mmm-hmm," I said, pairing that with a nod for clarity.
And then he reached for my breasts and felt them with his hands, running over them gently and then down my sides and around my back.
"Girl, you are a dime and a half," he said. "I can see why Gary went so gaga over you. Shit, girl, your curves deserve they own names."
I blushed a little, and then I looked him in the eyes. And for the first time, I think ever, at least since I first met Gary Bennett, there was a second man I knew I wanted. It wasn't quite the way I wanted Master. He would always be my number one. But now, I think I was finding room in my heart for a number two.
"You know, Gary and me, and we used to share a lot of things."
"Uh-huh. Lot of things. Stories…Joints…Girls…"
"Mmm-hmm?" I said again, now getting really hot and bothered down below.
Chet's hands slowly worked their way down my belly, and traced around my inner thighs. And then he…
"Mmmmff," I gasped with pleasure as I felt his finger tips reach the outer lips of my pussy.
"Damn, girl," he said. "You are good to go. I've barely even touched you, and you're wet as a Florida bayou."
I giggled a little, half at his choice of words, and half at the fact that yes, I was extremely wet right now. Wet for Chet.
"This feel good, girl?" he said, letting his fingers drive my pussy wild. They felt so good.
"Mmm-hmmm," I moaned.
"Hey," came another male voice.
It was Roland, or Roly, as he was often called, and an unfortunate name, given his state of rotundity. He was a business associate of Gary's. Actually, he was one of the other two owners of the club where I'd first met Gary. I'd never talked to him directly back then, but I've had numerous occasions to socialize with him since. Roly wasn't exactly what I would describe as an attractive man. He's rather short and stout, though I'm probably still shorter. Wearing these heels, we appear to be close to the same height. He's fat and sweats a lot, giving his hair a permanent greasy look, and his armpits are always running with sweat down his dress shirts, but he is a really nice guy. I've been told that in the community, he's a switch, and that when Roly dominates, he usually does so in a more casual and congenial way that a domineering one.
"S'up, Roly?" said Chet.
"I think my cock is now. Sweet Jesus Mary and Joseph, Kayla, look at you. You look good enough to eat."
"Something tells me you've had enough to eat, huh, big guy?"
Chet patted him on the tummy, which I thought was pretty rude, but then apparently Roly just laid one back at him.
"Ah, go wax your dome head, baldy," he said.
Chet covered his head and dropped his jaw in a look of mock indignation, and then all three of us had a laugh. Roly was another of the old circle Gary used to hang with in his youth. He had gone to a different high school than Gary and Chet, but they'd met at a party in college and had been friends ever since.
"Anyway," said Roly, "that's not the kind of eating I'm talking about…if you get my meaning…"
Then both of the boys laughed some more, and I turned red.
"Having a good time, sweetie?" Roly said seeming to see my eyes now.
I nodded. This really wasn't as bad—so far—as I thought it would be. Because I knew these two men. I felt safe with, and frankly, kind of attracted to Chet. And Roly, well, he could always make me laugh, and though I would probably never give him a second glance if I met him in a club, I still knew he was a sweet guy, and if there were any two guys at this party I'd want teasing me, it would be these two.
"May I?" he asked.
Then Roly put his hands all over me too, tracing the contours of my body, his expression almost innocent—like that of a chubby kid in a candy store. Actually the thought almost made me laugh. I had to behave myself though. I was the one being humiliated and judged after all, not Roly.
I felt a second pair of hands on me again now too, and looked back to see that Chet was also still here too, running his hands all over me. Having two men run their hands on me at once like this—it felt so good. It felt so wrong, and yet, so right. They were just two boys after all, who both hadn't really changed so much since the years they'd been in college. I guess that was a decade or so ago for them. And I could imagine the boys that they were, and that I probably wasn't that much older now than the girls that they'd shared then.
I looked up at my husband who peered over the crowd, watching me, his emotion unreadable from his facial expression.
Was this making him happy? Was it perhaps making him jealous? God, I would die if I thought it would make him jealous. But he just kept watching calmly. He would do something if he didn't like what he was seeing, wouldn't he?
"Kayla," said Roly. "May I please eat your pussy?"
My jaw would have dropped, had my mouth not already been pried wide open by the ball-gag. I took a moment to look him over. He smiled obsequiously. I looked at Chet, who smiled and gave a nod. I looked up at Gary, whose face remained unreadable.
I nodded, letting out a whimper as I did. It was humiliating, but my pussy ached for the attention.
Roly got to his knees, and then he pulled aside the base of my panties, and started to lick.
I let out a gasp of ecstasy. His tongue felt so good as it explored my pussy. I never could have imagined that Roly, of all people, could make me feel this good.
Chet, for his part, continued to fondle my tits from behind, as he ground his evidently throbbing cock into my back and butt. Feeling just how turned on Chet was, amplified just how hot I was getting. I breathed heavier and heavier, getting closer and closer to crying out, gasping and slobbering through my ball-gag.
Then Roly stopped. Why did he stop? I wanted to ask, impatiently, but as it was, I was still gagged, and at the mercy of whatever the boys wanted to do—or stop doing, in this case—with me.
"My knees just aren't what they used to be," he said, as if in answer, and the lowered himself to a sitting position.
"Better yet, why don't you just lay your ass down," said Chet. "Make Kayla here do some of the work."
"Sounds good to me," he said.
And so Roly lay down on the ground, while Chet peeled off my panties, and then helped me to my knees, spreading my legs on either side around Roly. Naked now, from the tits down, I lowered myself onto Roly's face. He continued to make delightful swirls around my clit with his tongue. I moaned in ecstasy through my gag.
"Here, girl, let's get that off you," said Chet, and he undid my gag, and took it out, and then left it hanging loosely around my neck.
I licked my lips and stretched my jaw, and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Ah," I sighed. "Thank you. I…"
Then Chet, his crotch pretty much exactly level with my face, unzipped his fly, and pulled out a massive cock. It wasn't quite as big as Master's, bit it was still really big. And from a fine black specimen like Chet, I would have expected no less.
"How would you like to make my night, girl?"
I didn't even have to answer. I eagerly learned forward and took the head of his cock into my mouth.
"Damn, bitch," he said with a smile. "I wasn't expecting you to be this eager!"
"I wasn't either," I said, pulling off from his cock momentarily. "But your cock is really beautiful, sir."
We smiled at each other. This was so wrong. But it felt so good.
"Get back in there, you sycophant," he said, and put both hands behind my head and pulled me back onto his throbbing cock.
Chet and I locked eyes as I continued to suck him with everything I had. And for his part, he cupped his hands around my face like I was some kind of treasure.
Other men and women from the party started gathering around us now, as we grew more and more noisy.
Roly's tongue felt so good down below, and the sight of this muscular, handsome black man, this totally new kinky side of Chet, was such a turn on. And I swirled my own tongue to drive Chet wild too. I wanted to come, and I wanted to make this beautiful black man's cock cum too, right in my mouth, so I could drink it all down like a good girl.
Then I started to come—my first orgasm at Roly's hand, or, his mouth, more accurately—and I felt my pussy contract like crazy, all while Roly continued to work my clit with his tongue.
Chet's eyes bugged out a little, and his jaw dropped, and I could feel his cock swelling more and more inside my mouth. He was about to cum too, I realized. And then he did, and I felt his warm load fill my mouth. Salty, but delicious nonetheless. I swallowed it all down like a good girl, and never broke my gaze from his.
Finally, he took his cock out of my mouth and then cupped my face in his hands.
"Damn, girl. Just…dayumm…"
He put his cock back in his pants, and then Roly slid up the floor a little.
"I'm not going to let you guys have all the fun."
From his jacket pocket, Roly produced a condom, and rolled in onto his cock. He was a little smaller, but then again, he was about to…oh god, oral sex was one thing but he was about to…
I looked up at Gary. At Master. And there he was, still watching, his face still unreadable.
"You ready?" said Roly.
I looked down at him as he put his hands on my naked hips, ready to lower me down. But true to form, he didn't just ram me down. He was asking permission like a gentleman.
"For the love of god, yes," I whined impatiently.
This got a laugh from Chet. I heard a few other chuckles in the gathering crowd too.
Roly lowered me down onto his cock, and began making grunting noises. I looked up again at Master. Is this okay, Master? Is this what you want? Oh god, it feels so wrong and yet…so…fucking…good.
"Can I have a go?" asked a stout man I didn't even recognize. I couldn't even tell if he was native American or Hispanic. Or possible something else.
"Yes," I said, without hesitation. Whoever he was, who was I to deny him after pleasing two men? Well…I mean…I was still in the midst of pleasing Roly…
This next man put his erect cock into my mouth. It was smaller than Chet's, which meant I stood a chance of actually deep-throating him, which I tried to do, though I didn't exactly have a lot of control from this position. Luckily, control was one thing they really didn't need me to have. He took me by the collar and yanked my head onto his cock, and it wasn't long before I had a second mouthload of cum.
And then a third.
And then a fourth.
Pretty soon, I'd lost count of how many cocks were entering either my pussy or my mouth. I didn't know what to do with all that semen, so I just kept swallowing it all. After awhile, I was beginning to feel like I'd had a three-course meal. If all three of those courses were soup, mind you. Salty soup!
Then, of course, there were the countless orgasms that I had, at the hands of so many different men. I couldn't even keep track of them. They'd become somewhat of a blur, though I was glad that it had been Chet and Roly who'd broken me in first. They were sweet, and I couldn't help but feel like I kind of wanted to fuck them again. Which surprised me in Roly's case, I'll admit. But my husband's friends…They're actually pretty hot!
Then, finally, I found myself eating a pussy. My first pussy. And I'll say this much. This is something I've never, ever wanted to do.
For some strange reason.
It wasn't so much that I'd suddenly become bisexual. I'm not. I always have been—and always will be—attracted to men. However, in this case, we get into a bit of a grey area. Because really, though I was ostensibly giving cunnilingus to please another woman, when I looked up at my husband, I realized I was actually doing it to please him.
It was a very tall and lean girl I only passively recognized as another of my husband's many kinky friends. A lesbian, who'd come with her girlfriend. For all I knew, her girlfriend was next in line…It also took a lot longer to get her off than it did with the men, I noted. Although maybe that's because I'm not as used to pussies as I am cocks. But by the time this woman was in the final tremors of her orgasm, I realized that a part of me kind of wanted to do that again.
But—disappointingly, I might add, which kind of surprised me—that was the only pussy I ate that night. Maybe Master thought that was enough experimentation for one night. I began to wonder if Master had actually orchestrated the procession. And it hadn't been quite so many as I had thought. There were, it turned out, other submissives here at play as well, and so that took the pressure off me a little. Could you imagine being the only slave in a room with nothing but a hundred Masters and Mistresses? I giggled a little at the thought. I wonder...? Would that be something Master would build me up to? Would that be something I might even someday beg to try?
"So, do you want the gag back in, or should I leave it out," asked Chet, helping me to me feet.
I thought about it. I smiled at him.
"What the hell. Put it back in," I said. "Oh, but first—you said to let you know if I needed to use the little girl's room. Well, I do. Pretty badly now actually."
"Of course," he said with a nod. "You want me to get a girl to help you, or..."
"No, I can manage. I only have to pee. I just need you to lead me there and open the door for me."
He nodded, then put the gag back into my mouth.
Chet took me by the collar and led me to the ground floor washroom, which I kind of enjoyed. Then he opened the door for me.
"There you go, Missus Bee. Just knock with your foot when you want out," he said.
"Mmm-hmm," I said through my gag, and then went into the bathroom.
Finally, once in the bathroom, I was alone. I kind of stood there for a few moments trying to come down from the high of having so much male—and some female—attention, all while tied like this. I looked at myself in the mirror, evaluating the way I looked in the ball-gag, the armbinder and the high heels, and basically nothing else. I did look pretty irresistible like this. Heck, I worried I might even turn myself on! Was Master proud of me, I wondered?
I sat down on the toilet and then peed, which felt really good. I'd been holding it in pretty badly by the end there.
Then I heard the lock on the door latch. Was that Chet? What was he up to?
I stood up and walked around to look, and then froze.
It wasn't Chet.
It was Mei Wen, wearing a leather dominatrix outfit and brandishing a riding crop. And the look she was giving me didn't just look sadistic. It looked psychopathic.
And for the first time of the night, I felt real fear. Not just the apprehensions about the party. Genuine, unadulterated fear. Outside, I had Master, Chet, and Roly looking out for me. In here, I was alone with a woman who may well want me dead. Or perhaps worse…
"Hello, Kayla. Remember me?"
How could I forget?
I didn't answer. I literally couldn't; I was still gagged. I gathered the question was largely rhetorical anyway.
"Of course you do. You're the little gold-digging cunt who stole Gary away from me.
"Mmmff," I tried to yell as loudly as possible, but with the noise going on outside, paired with the gag, I was realizing, much to my horror, that whatever it was that Mei had planned for me, it was going to happen. I was in basically no position to stop her. I was in deep shit!
And much to my embarrassment—I don't mind telling you—I started to cry. Like I said, I was scared.
Then Mei darted towards me.
"You bitch," she said, and slapped me hard across the face. So hard I went reeling, and stumbled backwards.
Then Mei tackled me to the floor.
I flailed my legs at her, trying to kick her off, but there was no way. I was so helpless right now, my arms trapped in the binder as they were, pinned at the elbows.
She lowered her pussy onto my nose, and I couldn't breathe. I just flailed and cried.
"I'm going to fuck your face while I destroy your pussy. And I don't just mean that as a clever euphemism for sex!"
I continued to cry, gasping for air when she raised her pussy up from me.
"Shut up," she said. "Just be glad that I'm feeling generous enough not to kill you. Then again," she said, and then smacked the crop down on the lips of my pussy as hard as she could.
I shrieked. The sting on my pussy was agony, and I felt pure terror as she lowered her pussy over my nose again, holding my head still with her strong thighs. I was either going to suffocate in here, I thought, or…
"Then again, maybe killing you would be more humane. See I have something else planned for you. Something I'd like to try."
She whipped me again, and agony shot from my pussy to all over my body again. I wanted to scream out, but as it was, I could barely breathe.
"It's called vulvodynia," she continued. "It's a chronic pain condition that can come from excessive vulvar trauma. I've read that it's permanent, and can make it so that you never enjoy sex again. I think that's a suitable punishment for a slut like you, don't you agree?"
I, of course, couldn't say anything. I could barely breathe. The idea of having this condition did indeed sound horribly cruel. I'd had so much fun tonight, up until now. That would be such a horrible thing to do to me. And why? I never, ever did anything to her! Why did she want to ruin me in that way? I wanted to cry. Of course, I could barely breathe, and so there was a chance I would die before she could do that to me anyway…
Whap! The crop came down again.
"I can't hear you," she taunted.
I tried to scream, but it came out as a muffle. I wanted to fight back, but I couldn't. All I could do was lie there and take whatever abuse she had to give me, until I either went insane or suffocated and died. Where was Master? Where was Chet? Wasn't he waiting for me right outside?
Please Master. Save me. Master, please, for the love of god, save me.
And then, as if I'd somehow willed it, I heard a crash, and the door flew open, letting in the ambience from the party.
"Kayla?" came Master's rather desperate voice.
He's here. Master is here, I thought, relieved. Thank god!
I felt Mei get hoisted off me while she kicked and screamed.
"Let go of me, let go."
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Mei?" said Gary.
"Teaching this bitch a little lesson, that's all."
Master looked at me.
"Are you all right?" he said.
I couldn't say anything though the gag, though I imagined the tears running down my face spoke volumes.
"What the hell have you done, Mei?"
"It's just a little game. She's fine."
"Get her out of here," he said to Chet and another large guy I didn't recognize.
"What does this blonde bitch have that I don't?" she called.
"What, you mean besides a conscience? And half a brain? She's a submissive, Mei. You and I always knew that sooner or later our relationship would never work, that as two natural dominants, we needed others. Don't you see that? It was never personal. It just wasn't mean to be. You have to let it go."
"I will never let you go," she snapped. "And when first you're not looking, I'm going to snatch up this blonde little bitch and ruin her for you forever."
I have never seen a more angry look on Master's face, such as the darkness that crossed over his face then. Had he ever looked at me like that, I think I might quite literally have died from fright. Just from the look.
"Get out of my house, Mei. You're hereby banned from all parties and all activities in my immediate group."
"I'm not leaving," she snapped. "I'm not."
"Yes you are," he said, and the two men continued to carry her out.
"And if you ever lay a hand my Kayla again. I will rip the offending arm right off your body and beat you with it."
There was something just so primal at the way he said that, that stilled the room. The scary thing was, I could actually picture him holding her down and wrenching her arm free of its socket, and seriously beating her with it while her blood sprayed everywhere. Though at the same time, the threat sounded so extreme, so atavistic, that I couldn't believe he was serious. But the point had been made. Master would never let anyone seriously hurt me. He'd made me a promise to me after all. And I knew he loved me.
When we were alone, he took the gag out.
"Are you all right?" he said.
"I think so," I said, though my pussy was still stinging from the abuse, and my nostrils were filled with the stink of Mei's pussy. Then I began to sob.
"Oh, Kayla, I'm sorry. I didn't know she'd snuck in here until I realized I couldn't see her outside and that you were taking too long in the bathroom. But then when Chet realized the door was locked, and I couldn't find Mei anywhere, I realized what was happening. Are you going to be okay?"
"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I think so."
"I swear to god, Kayla, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this—"
"It's okay, Master," I said, forcing a smile. "I know you'd never let anyone hurt me. You said it, and I believed you. I still do."
Then he kissed me, and I felt waves of relief come over me. Then he bit my lip in the playful way that he does.
"Wanna blow off the people at this party and head upstairs?" he asked.
"Yes, Master, I'd like that," I said, feeling much, much better now. Things felt like they were finally getting back to normal.
Master put my gag back in, I suppose for posterity sake, and then led me back out to the party, pulling me along by the leash.
The whole room seemed to cheer us on as we headed up the stairs, though I imagined they were more cheering him on than me. Maybe it was both of us. I barely cared by that point, anyway.
Finally, we were alone in our room.
"I've been waiting all night fuck your brains out," he said.
He looked at me hungrily. I returned a demure look to him.
"I got pretty frigging turned on watching you fuck all those people. Did you have a good time, pet?"
"Mmm-hmm," I said through the gag.
"Who was your favorite?" he said.
I shrugged demurely.
"It was Chet, wasn't it?" he said knowingly.
I nodded, though I did think Roly was a close enough second. I was gagged though, so my capacity for commentary was limited. And anyway, I gathered that Master didn't really bring me up here to listen to me talk. If he had, he'd have taken the gag out.
"I thought so. Well, now it's finally my turn."
Master pushed me back towards the bed, and then down onto it. Then he mounted me, and thrust his cock into me. And I was so wet that he slid right in.
"Oh god, you're hot. And everyone knows how hot you are. Fuck, it drives me so crazy how hot you are. And they all know it. And you're all mine now. All mine."
I let out a cry of ecstasy as his cock effortlessly rubbed my pussy in all the right places, bringing me to the point of orgasm, and then I climaxed convulsively.
"Oh…fuck…" he grunted.
Then I felt Master's warm load shoot inside me. It was a big one this time. I don't think I've felt a load that big come out of him before. He must have been really excited by watching me with all those men tonight.
Finally, exhausted, we fell asleep, me in his arms. He didn't even bother to untie me or un-gag me, and even though I was sore all over now, I didn't even care. I felt owned, I felt loved, and I felt safe. And for now, that was all that mattered.
This work is copyright 2016 by me, Malicia Paine, and is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It is not to be re-sold, re-produced, or re-distributed in any way without my express permission, although sharing a link to it on this website, or to MaliciaPaine.com is fine. This work is protected by copyright law, and the penalty for violations is 2000 volts straight to the genitals! (I’m kidding, obviously! But seriously, do please be respectful of my hard work.) Otherwise, please enjoy!