“Don’t worry, love, this too has those beaded flowers decorating it. It is absolutely lovely.” Something heavy is placed on my head, like a crown. “And so you are complete head to toe, here’s a small headpiece in the same design. Ah, stunning, you are absolutely stunning.”
Greg steps away, then stops. I can feel the heat of his gaze as he looks at me. I know Greg finds me beautiful and that makes me almost preen in pride. I hope his friends do, too.
I lose my sense of balance for a moment when the pole is turned. I assume I’m now facing the table. In the distance I hear the office door close. Greg has gone to get his friends.
Left to my thoughts, my arousal subsides some when I think about how close my body is to where the chairs are placed. The table is rather small; all they would have to do is reach over slightly to touch me. I am chained up, completely adorned, and any number of men are coming to sit at the table that I am the centerpiece of. He has bound almost every part of my body.
My anus and nipples burn but the feeling spreading through my body from those places is amazing. I feel like I am on fire in the best possible way. If the gag weren’t in my mouth, they would hear my harsh pants when they arrive. I remind myself to breathe slow and steady.
I imagine I make a beautiful picture with my small frame, bound and aroused. Oh, how I wish I could see myself, but I will have to leave it up to the men to judge.
These men and Greg will see me as a centerpiece and for tonight, I am. Tomorrow, it’s back to the real world and a computer. But I will wring every ounce of pleasure I can out of tonight.
My body is flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat. Knowing people will see me like this has cream gushing from my body around the vibrator inside me.
When I hear them walking in the hallway, my breath catches. It’s showtime.
The door opens and the footfalls get closer. No one speaks, so I have no idea how many people are here. There are multiple footsteps though and it sounds like all five chairs are pulled from the table. I hold my breath, trying to hear more, but the room falls silent.
I start to squirm in my prison again, every inch of my body on fire. I have no idea what is happening or what I am to expect and in my mind, I try to picture the people in the room. Men and maybe some women, watching me. It is a heady concept. One I wish to hold on to. I feel beautiful and in control of the room. But that doesn’t last long.
Soft murmurs fill the space around me, but I’m so focused on my own predicament, their words don’t make sense. Every part of my body is held in tight to the pole. I am a centerpiece, not a participant of the conversation. And I love it.
I know time passes, but I don’t know how long it is that I sit here, waiting. Waiting for what, I can’t fathom. Maybe nothing. I am, after all, part of the decorations. And decorations don’t usually receive much besides a passing glance and possibly appreciation.
Paper rustles, voices ebb and flow. The smells of cologne and perfume invade my senses. I sit in the middle of it all, trying hard not to move too much, yet unable to control myself.
Finally, calloused fingers start to stroke my pussy and I feel other fingers fiddle with the vibrator and turn it on. It starts to wiggle inside of me. Not vibrations, just a movement, and I gasp. A set of hands grabs hold of the clamps on my nipples and pulls straight out. I moan long and loud behind the gag in my mouth.
Someone from behind swats my ass, which means there could be more than the five men I had originally estimated to be in the room.
I suck on the gag so as not to make any more noise. Centerpieces don’t make noise. Hands pet and stroke me from my arms down to my ankles. I try to concentrate and count how many, but the pleasure is sending my mind into a fog. There is one hand on each of my arms, and one hand on each of my calves. Other hands stroke my thighs, while someone’s fingers play with my pussy. Rough hands caress my belly and breasts, too.
They are touching me everywhere and I give up trying to figure it out. I let myself sink into the sensation, enjoying each stroke, swat and pet.
The hand at my pussy starts to pinch and stretch my lips around the vibrator, over and over again. The ones playing with my breasts are gentle and soft, caressing the mounds and jarring the clamps on every pass. A pair of lips starts to kiss around the gag in my mouth. Oh, how I wish that the gag were gone. I wish I could kiss the rough lips so close to mine. The intimacy of the act always makes me wet and hungry for more.
Someone turns the vibrator on—a hard, fast massage. I start to pant again. I squirm in my bonds for all I’m worth, trying to reach the pinnacle. I must look like a spectacle, but I don’t care. I can’t care. My body has its own agenda and it’s begging for relief. Between the heat, the caresses and the vibrator now on high, I can hardly even concentrate. I’ve lost my mind; I wouldn’t be coherent if I could talk.
As my body flies higher and higher, tears leak from my eyes with my frustration. I am so close, just a few more moments. If only one of them would touch my clit.
And yet there is nothing I can do. I’m tied down tight and stuffed full. I can hardly move to give myself the additional stimulation needed to come.
I lose track of time as I strive to reach climax. My body becomes sore, and I can’t work the kinks out.
Finally, finally, one of the people in the room pinches my clit between thick fingers. Someone else pulls a clamp off my nipple, and I start to come immediately. The blood rushing back to my nipple hurts so good, I’m sure I passed out for a moment. I’ve never felt anything so intense in my life. I’ve never been so high. I’m having trouble breathing. Shocks keep flowing through me, and I’m now bound to the pleasure my body is experiencing.
As the pleasure slowly wears away, I start to feel the pain in my limbs from being in this position for too long. My nerves scream at me to move, but I can’t until they let me down.
The other nipple clamp comes off and two mouths latch on to soothe my nipples. They’re so sore and the feeling of the lips sucking them isn’t really that pleasurable, but I enjoy the roughness and pain.
The vibrator is pulled from pussy, but I still feel the vibrations move through my body. It has gone on for so long, I know I’ll feel the vibrations long into the night. Hands unlock the straps along my legs, and someone lowers my poor arms.
Then I hear footsteps leaving the room. The door closes and Greg takes my blindfold off. I blink, trying to focus on his face. When I see his brilliant smile, I want to collapse.
“Beautiful,” he whispers before taking me off the pole and cradling me to his chest.
Carrying my sore, pleasured body to the couch, he holds and rocks me until I fall asleep.
AN UNFORGETTABLE RIDE
Elise Hepner
The tiny electronic ping thrummed through her nerve endings, competing against the claustrophobia of purring engines, honking horns, and the deep chatter of pedestrians lining the sidewalks in gobs. Anna was hyper-focused, to the point where each sound almost hurt as she huddled in the squeaky, fake-leather cab seat. More than anything she wanted to pull the scratchy trench more securely around her nakedness—but the ropes stopped her. Hank had been thorough with his binding, as always. Her wrists chaffed from the delicious friction and she butted her nose against the simple silk blindfold, while knowing the action would get her a whole lot of nothing in the way of results. At least she could pretend she was more in control—even if she loved being out of it. Spinning, churning stomach, adrenaline making her voice thready and her hands shake: sweet ol’ discipline.
Tonight Hank whistled in the driver’s seat of the cab, making a jerky left turn that bounced her in the seat. Her ankles were cuffed with a spreader bar, leaving her no way to snatch any traction from the slick mats at her feet. Instead, all she could do was wait. Every second her thoughts grew more scattered, more certain Hank’s game was all a weird joke.
“Time for our first customer, babe.” Hank’s voice trickled in through the partition and Anna’s hands clenched together, b
ody taut as a shudder ripped up her spine. “You ready?”
“Ready for what? What are we doing?” There wasn’t a way to keep the tremulous note from her voice. “Hank? Hank!”
He jerked the wheel to the right and the cab slowed to a stop. Anna nearly choked, her throat went so tight at the idea—at the thought—
“Hank, are you really…you can’t be serious! Babe! What… what the hell?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes!” she hissed out.
But not before the jerk of the door made her start. The smooth, cold kiss of air pressed through her light trench coat against her nakedness. She licked her lips, coming away with the unpleasant taste of the red lipstick Hank had applied after she’d been blindfolded. A Trollop Red, supposedly. Colors were the least of her worries as the seat moved with the weight of another person and Anna both threw back her shoulders while also pulling away the barest inch. The slap of spicy masculine cologne seeped through the cab. She heard a rough, grating chuckle that would have been sexy if she could see the whole package; instead, it set every inch of her body on alert.
“Nice.” The stranger’s voice had a bass growl with a Southern drawl and he made a purely masculine noise of approval in the back of his throat. “May I, Hank?”
At least Hank knew the man. Not a pure stranger. Like that was any real comfort while Anna pressed against the back of the cab’s seat, nestled against the loose springs. Despite herself, she got a little wet when the cab jerked away from the curb. No turning back; Hank wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t have an end to whatever plan he’d cooked up.
“What’s mine is yours.” Hank swore at someone on the road and swerved to the left.
With her boyfriend’s permission the stranger’s hand landed like a slap on her thigh, trailing goose bumps all along her upper body as she shivered in her bonds. Nothing made sense, but everything was blindingly clear. She struggled with a whimper, even while her nipples peaked so the coarse fabric rubbing against them made her teeth clench until her jaw ached. His finger drew small circles on her inner thigh. His touch was warm and weighted, with a press that was full of unspoken intentions while the cab jerked and jostled its way through busy streets.
“If someone got a look inside…” She tried to speak louder than a whisper, but the air was caught in her lungs, taken away by his all-consuming presence. The stranger sunk into her pores until he was the only thing she was aware of while his fingers drew complicated designs on her naked skin.
“Let ’em look.”
Before she could get out another word his fingers skimmed up, palm clenching over her bare, slick pussy. She jumped, crying out, unable to close her legs to the intrusion, torn between excitement and shame that he would probably sense her arousal on his slow and exploratory fingers while he played her pussy as if it were a toy.
“Shit,” she swore, eyes half-lidded behind her blindfold.
Unable to keep her head while her pulse throbbed against her temples and made her ears ring, she ground up into the pressure of his hand. She groaned, goaded by her base impulses. With a small grunt his thick fingers slid home into her center and she bucked, jerking from the pulsing pressure directly against her G-spot. A gasp caught on her lips. It came out as a sigh when he started a swift rhythm that delved deep, while he worked her clit with his thumb.
So much of the picture was wrong. Her toes wiggled, tensing, as she desperately tried to open her legs farther for his rough, punishing examination. So. Good. So. Wrong. With her arms tied behind her back the sharp pinch of her shoulders deepened into pain while she rode his fingers. His breath was hot on her neck, mutters of encouragement caressing her sensitive, dewy flesh. Every inch she strained made it worse as his fingers stretched her, the tension just on the verge of being too much for her to handle. Breaths sawed in and out of her lungs, burning, twisting into small cries while she imagined Hank’s eyes glued to her glistening pussy as another man fucked her into oblivion.
“Do…you…like…the…show…baby?” she panted, arching her back so the stranger’s fingers pressed at just the right angle, making her writhe while her inner walls clenched tight. “Is it…good…for you?”
“I love the way he fucks you, babe. You’re so flushed and hot. I want my mouth on your nipples, my teeth teasing them until your breasts are red from my roughness. You like that, huh? What I wouldn’t do to pull over this cab into a dark alley…” Hank hissed in through his teeth and moaned as he applied the brakes a little too hard.
The jerky motion sent them both hurtling forward as she impaled herself on the stranger’s digits at the same time that he stretched her with another finger. She bit her lip from the brunt of pain, a quick ache that twined up her spine as her inner walls pulsed, fluttering around the invasion.
“So warm. So wet.” The stranger laughed again. “Let’s see how your mouth feels against my cock. Will it be as delightful as your cunt on my hand?”
Before she could reply he snatched a handful of her hair in his tight fist and she jerked back on impulse, igniting a fire across her scalp. He twirled her long auburn hair around his fist—once, twice. She wet her lips, still riding her high of ecstasy because he never stopped fucking her with his fingers. There wasn’t time to catch a thought before her awareness was shattered, flitting in a million different directions.
“I want you to come, screaming, while your mouth is sealed around my shaft.”
With the explicit directive whispered against the tip of her ear, he wrenched her down until her open mouth was pressed down on his freed erection. Somehow he’d undone his pants and she hadn’t noticed, too focused on his fingers inside her cunt. But now there was no denying the weighty, throbbing press of him on the back of her throat. She tried to swallow past the musky, throbbing taste of him. Not enough air, not enough space. He was everywhere, filling her to the brim as she struggled to take him inside her body.
He bucked his hips and groaned while she experimentally slid her tongue down his shaft. A shock twanged through her muscles when she realized his cock listed slightly to the left, unlike Hank, who was a straight shot. The stranger’s shaft eased down the back of her throat with the force of his timed thrust upward, familiar yet so different. Anna fought back the urge to choke, throat muscles constricted. A cry hurtled up to her lips as the strange man circled her clit with his thumb. No escape. The cab surged through the darkness somewhere in the city and she couldn’t deny that the possibility of someone seeing their odd tryst made the wicked surprise all the more of a turn-on.
“I can feel her pussy clenching my fingers, Hank. She’s close. Gonna come all over me soon.” The stranger spoke, breathless, straining while he used his grip on her hair to keep her head bobbing on his cock.
Anna’s lips tingled, cunt pulsing from the tense ecstasy that was flowing outward into every atom of her being. Her limbs thrashed against her bonds. She saw a brief flash of light at the edge of her blindfold, while a complete stranger shoved his cock against the back of her throat before withdrawing in an edgy dance that left her on the brink of losing oxygen. The purr of the cab and Hank’s soft swearing buffered the first wave of orgasm as she struggled to ride it out. All of her choice—gone—which only made her hotter, an edge that flushed her skin and made her inner muscles clamp down hard on the stranger’s fingers. He thrust his cock up into her mouth in short, quick bursts that made her moan.
Hank pulled out of a lane and into another, making Anna slide across the seats, only steadied by the man’s trembling grip in her hair. Beneath the sluggish afterglow and mottled thoughts, Anna struggled to keep up with his pace. His hip movements were erratic, saliva teasing her lips while she tried her best not to drag her teeth down his bobbing, large shaft. When his fingers eased out of her, she clenched down immediately, as if her body was dying to have him back inside. But his free hand was already pawing at her loose trench coat. His hot, calloused palm scraped across her nipple until he had a large handful of her breast. He squeezed u
ntil she squirmed, practically in the stranger’s lap because of Hank’s wild driving.
“Damn. Anyone ever tell you you’re amazing at using your mouth?” The stranger’s words whooshed out, his fingers spasming against the back of Anna’s scalp and pinching her hair harder. His slick fingers clamped over her other breast hard enough to brand or bruise until she shuddered from the intense, intimate contact.
“I tell her that every night,” Hank commented from the front.
“Mmm, you have a good teacher.” The stranger slapped her breast with his open palm as she sucked in air through her nose. When he pinched her nipple, she did him one better and swirled her tongue over the head of his cock before he had time to push her farther down.
“Christ.”
He arched as the silky fabric teased over her eyelids and the exterior rush of city life was broken up by her determination to make the thankless stranger in her mouth come like a geyser. A litany of curses streamed from his lips. Meanwhile his hand roved over and mauled her breasts as if they were the most amazing things he’d ever touched in his life. Starbursts shot out from behind her eyelids, lungs heaving, trembling to keep up without the use of her arms while cool air kissed her slick pussy. The spreader bar slapped against the base of the seat. Hank kept whistling some random tune while she waited on the edge of a yawning precipice for the stranger to spurt his seed into her ready mouth.
The mere thought of it made her grind down uselessly into the seat, the friction blocked by her coat. Either way, his energy excited every bit of her until she was practically purring.
“Close, aw, close, baby.” The stranger’s cock throbbed in the back of her mouth, his fingers almost going limp in her hair before his grip tightened to the point where she sensed the sting of tears behind her eyelids. Her lips buzzed from friction, her thighs clenched tight with anticipation while a bead of sweat teased down the nape of her neck.
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