How did I end up here? What decisions had I taken that has me here, strapped to this bed with this couple using and abusing every inch of my flesh and every orifice as their personal playthings?
These thoughts raced through my mind in a blizzard of thought and emotion, and sensation as the Mistress drained my cock for the third time. I, powerless to stop her, was trussed to the bed as a helpless supplicant.
As she sucked and sucked every last drop of cum out of me, I lolled my head to the side to see Paul fully erect, the cock ring and stim plug ensuring he wasn’t going to wilt any time soon. His face was obscured by the gimp mask the Mistress had ordered him to wear. His hands cuffed behind to make him equally as submissive. She was totally in control of the pair of us.
As Mistress pulled away, licking her lips, “Not bad for a first-timer”, she remarked. “Now Paul, you pathetic little worm on your knees!” “Yes, Mistress.” He meekly demurred, the sound of his words muted and muffled by the mask. Kneeling before her, she used her index finger to push his head back so that he looked up at her with the adoration a sub owes their mistress. She roughly undid the zip covering his mouth. “Tongue”, she commanded.
Without hesitation, he proffered his wet tongue for her. She came closer to his latex-encased head, parted her legs and forced his head between. “Eat”, she demanded. He obeyed immediately, lapping at her majestic groin for fear of reproach or, worse yet, denial.
I looked on longingly, thinking how magnificent her snatch must taste, but having been denied, so far, such reward, I could only lie there helpless, meek, mild and at the mercy of this goddess of a woman.
As Paul gamely tried to perform, I couldn’t help but think, despite me being tied down, I’d got the long straw as he must be sweating like a pig in that hot mask… His head was bobbing away, and the Mistress pulled him closer, curling her fingers around the back of his encased head to pull him fully into her. How the hell was he breathing?
After some moments of this, she pushed him away. She sauntered back to me, picking a small cat o 9 tails from her arsenal of pain pleasure tools as she did. She loomed over me, positioning herself over my face, facing towards my feet. Her glistening snatch towered over me just out of reach. The torture…
I heard a soft swoosh and then what felt like a thousand small flicks on my cock and balls. I winced, “Don’t you react”, the Mistress barked. “Yes, Mistress”, I murmured in deference. Again the whoosh, again the pinpricks of pain that felt surreally arousing. I could feel my battered cock starting to awaken again. “Get over here, you maggot!” She commanded Paul. “Between his legs”. I could sense my partner in submission edging closer. “Clean him up”.
I tensed at this. I’d only ever had women touch me in this way. I could feel Paul’s hot breath as he hesitantly approached, then felt his face smash into my balls as the Mistress forced him into position. “Lick! Clean!”, She commanded. Paul and I knew better than to question her. Paul started to lick all of her saliva off my balls and the base of my cock. Woosh! Again the pinpricks. This and Paul’s wet tongue on my cock had me hard way quicker than I thought decent in a supposedly straight man. Once she was happy I was sufficiently hard, she tapped Paul on the head to make him stop, positioned his head and fed my cock into his open mouth.
My mind wasn’t sure what to make of this. I was being swallowed by a man. I couldn’t decide if this was a good or a bad thing. I’d always considered myself straight, perhaps conditioned by society to think in purely black and white terms when it came to matters sexual. But it felt good. Different but good. I felt more force being applied but couldn’t see what was happening. By the way the Mistress was moving, I could only assume poor Paul was being force-fed my now willing cock.
The Mistress manoeuvred herself closer to my groin. “Stand up” she ordered Paul, who duly obliged. She reached for some lube and greased his cock once she’d applied a rubber. “Come” she demanded, unshackling my ankles. I felt her move my legs vertical. I was still unable to see what was going on at the business end of my prone body. I felt one, then two fingers enter my ass. Slowly, probing, working my anus. Then pressure, force, and speed. In. Out. All too easy. The fingers withdrew and were replaced with something bigger. That’s not going to fit, my brain screamed, but I knew better than to verbalise such thoughts.
I lay there helpless as she fed Paul’s cock into me. Slowly filling all of my ass with his thick, veiny cock. Every ridge pulsed and pushed at me. “Stroke!” She bellowed. I felt Paul start to withdraw. “Stroke!” She commanded, and he slid right back into his balls. “Stroke!” Out, “Stroke!”, in. Like some perverse version of the Okey Cokey, my ass was being used for rowing practice…
On this carried for minute after minute, the thrusts perforated with “Stroke!”. Then I felt a gloved hand around my now throbbing cock. For as alien as it felt to be penetrated by a man, it did nothing to lower my arousal or erection. I could feel the Mistress working my cock, tumescent in her hands, powerless to stop her doing as she willed. I held on, knowing that to come too early would not be allowed.
On she pumped me as Paul pummeled my ass, now well used to his size and girth. The combination of her expert strokes and his urgency (eager to please our Mistress), I couldn’t hold on and exploded in a shower of cum the like of which I’d never managed before in my life. I felt the Mistress’s hand leave my cock, “Lick” she ordered Paul, and he duly cleaned her glove of all my cum, as he remained in me.
“You may exit”, she said to him, and almost regretfully, I sensed the loss of him inside me as he withdrew.
When would this end?
