He was having a party and she was the centerpiece. She was humiliated and wet and the party hadn’t even started. She was currently kneeling on the coffee table, her hands bound out to each corner of the table, breasts hanging below her. Her knees were on the table, bound down and out so that her legs were spread. Then her ankles had been bound down to the legs of the table, keeping them in place. He had a belt around her neck and had her hair pulled up in a messy ponytail.
He then walked around her displayed body and began writing on her with sharpie. SLUT, WHORE, COCKS HERE…with arrows pointing to her ass. He then grabbed lipstick, bright red lipstick and put it on her lips then got mascara that would run and put it on her eyelashes. Oh yes, he wanted her to be a show tonight.
The doorbell rang and friends began coming in. They knew them, they knew these parties and the parties continued to grow. Tonight he was expecting about 30 men. And she knew that meant that she would be getting at least 30 cocks if not more. The men came in, wearing various masks, while she knelt on the table, full view. The men came in and greeted him then made their way over, sliding their hands over her body, causing her to squirm a bit. Then they began to get a bit more brave, pulling and pinching at her nipples, grabbing at the belt and forcing her to stay up more so that they could watch the expressions on her face.
She whimpered as they toyed then felt someone flat hand slap at her pussy and she cried out and it didn’t stop there. Whoever was doing it was spanking her spread pussy hard over and over and over until she was whimpering loudly. When he stopped she was sure her pussy was swollen and everyone wasn’t even there yet. Oh it was going to be a long night.
Everyone was there and already she had cocks in her mouth, causing her to gag, drool going down onto the table. There were so many around her. Hands on her tits, pulling at her nipples, causing her to cry out around cocks that were lined up to get into her mouth. She was gagging and moaning, her eyes fixed on the masked man that had his cock in her mouth right now.
She felt fingers on her pussy and let out a squeal and he walked forward. “No….only toys in her pussy. But her ass……you can pound that ass all you want.” She whimpered and then felt a cock at her ass. She cried out as the cock began to force it’s way into her tight ass. She shook her head, opening her mouth to beg but nothing came out, only a cock went in, gagging her. She felt words written all over her body and then she felt someone thrusting in and out of her ass, filling her.
And the cocks just kept coming……and cumming.
She was now standing, arms chained above her head to the chandelier that was made of heavy wrought iron. She was tired, her mascara was running down her sweaty face. Her body had names written all over it, dirty pictures drawn on it, cum drying on her skin. She had a spreader bar between her legs and a vibrator that had been tied to her leg, pressed firmly against her pussy.
The men were relaxing, drinking bourbon and whiskey, talking around the room, all of them naked, all of them sitting proudly. He came over, reaching around, stroking her side, whispering soft words of praise that went through her weary mind, getting a nod out of her. He then reached down, turning on the vibrator then stepped back as she began to squirm in the chains.
Soon her hips were bucking wildly and the men were placing bets on how long it would take her to cum. The money was falling on the floor in front of her but she wasn’t even noticing. She was fighting to not orgasm, not wanting any of the men to win, feeling as if she could somehow win if she didn’t orgasm. Twisted but true.
Someone won. And the betting continued. How long till the next? What if nipple clamps were added? Gags? Blindfolds? They tried it all. And soon she was blindfolded, an o ring gag was in her mouth, and bells were attached to her nipples. And those bells were ringing as her body was soon writhing wildly out of control, cumming and leaving a puddle on the floor.
He carried her into their bedroom at the end of the evening. The marks would fade, the sharpie would disappear but the memories would be forever. He had bathed her gently, speaking softly to her, telling her how proud he was of her. She had enjoyed the quiet time with him. He had then carried her into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed. She laid back, closing her eyes and he leaned in, kissing her softly.
She felt her legs spread and she whimpered softly as he slid his cock into her pussy. “Mine…..” he said. He then began sliding in and out of her pussy. She moaned out, gripping at his arms tightly. He moved his hands up to her wrists, holding them down on the bed and began to pound her pussy.
“Who does this belong to??”
“Damn right……and what can I do with it?”
“Anything you wish……”
He smiled and leaned down, kissing her deeply and fucked her until they both passed out, both knowing when he woke up he would go again, making her even more sore. And she would relish being used by him, loving the attention from him, loving how he made her feel, how he filled her, how he loved her.
And he did love her. But it wasn’t traditional. With him nothing was traditional but she didn’t want traditional. She wanted electricity and damned if he wasn’t the god of lightning.