In his foyer, the Dominant clicks his fingers and gestures. In response, I get naked, and he takes the collar and leash resting on the entryway table and buckles it around my throat. Another gesture, and I’m on my hands and knees.
He leads me to the study. Leather couches, cigars, the smell of scotch in the air. Drinking a little early in the day, I see. Still, I wager that for some of my guys, this is a first. One heck of a first. I’m assuming they need a drink as a coping strategy.
The Dominant has shared me before, so I’m slightly better prepared. But I’m also a little nervous. My worlds are colliding, and I’m not sure how it’s all going to shake out.
“Gentlemen,” the Dominant enters the study and guides me to the centre of the room. There, I get on my knees, in response to a hand sign from him. My legs are spread open, my hands laced behind my back, and my head bowed submissively. “You all know Stephanie, of course.” I grin slightly to myself at that. I can hear the suppressed laughter in Stuart’s voice as he says that. Yup. I know all these men, in a very biblical sense.
“I’d like Stephanie to speak.” This is the Chef. “Steph?” I make eye contact with him. “Are you okay with this?” They are all looking at me for confirmation.
I look at each of them. At the Chef, whose eyes are concerned. At the Technician. At the Playboy, who smirks at me, reading the anticipation in my body perfectly. I lock gazes with Mr. Buttman and the Doctor.
“Stuart’s told you my safe words? Red to stop entirely, yellow to slow down, green, keep going, please?” Not all of them know the BDSM conventions.
They all nod, and I smile widely. “In that case, gentlemen,” I straighten my back, and my breasts jut out proudly, “what are you waiting for?”
* * *
The Chef beckons, and I crawl up to him. “Three choices,” he says, holding out three fingers. “Ginger. Chili. Nettles.”
Fuck. That’s crazy intense.
Look, the Internet’s a weird place, and I’ve seen some absolutely insane porn. Once, I saw a scene where a Dom rubbed chili paste on a girl, and the rest of the scene was just her sobbing. It scared the crap out of me, because, as the Dom pointed out to the girl – your skin’s reaction to chili is a chemical reaction. You can’t safe word out of it. You have to endure.
Nettles seem scary as well. Which leaves ginger.
The Chef is looking at me, waiting for me to choose. I gulp, and hope fervently for ginger as I pick a finger. He grins at me. “What were you hoping for?” His voice is amused.
“Ginger.”
He laughs. “Good choice,” he says, getting up and going to the refrigerator in the room, which typically has beer and wine in it. He withdraws a prepared ginger root and I’m so, so tempted to smack him. He scared me with the chili and the nettles.
The guys are laughing at my expression. “You know I’ll find a way to get even, don’t you?” I ask them, and the Dominant grins before his expression gets mock-serious.
“Do kittens talk?” he growls.
I shake my head silently, my pussy clenching at that tone.
“Stephanie,” the Chef speaks. “Turn your ass towards me, put your shoulders on the floor, and use your hands to part your cheeks.”
Fuck. My pussy overheats dangerously. Evidently, the dominance is contagious. If all six are going to speak to me in this hard, intent tone, I will combust. I will not be able to help myself.
The Chef’s fingers graze through my folds, and he spreads some of the wetness from my pussy to my tight rosebud. I know, from extensive internet research, that lube makes the ginger root less potent. I’ll be taking the plug without any lubrication.
Mr. Buttman’s eyes are boring into my clenched asshole, and his big hand runs over my cheeks before he gives me a hard smack that echoes around the room. “Relax your muscles, slut,” he barks. “You know better.”
I do know better. But the ginger is a new thing, and I’m a little nervous. The Dominant moves in front of me. All I can see are the handmade leather shoes. “Kitten.” His voice is level. “Do I need to get the riding crop out?”
“No Sir.”
His hand grips my shoulder, and he whispers in my ear. “Trust us, Stephanie.” His breath tickles my skin. “Let go. Enjoy.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.” I have no idea why my ass is clenched. I do trust these guys. It’s that damn video on the Internet. If I hate the ginger, I know there’s nothing that can be done. My body just has to deal with it.
But the Chef only had the ginger prepared. And none of these guys have ever done anything to me that I couldn’t handle.
Shoulders still on floor, cheek pressed into the plush grey carpet of the Dominant’s study, I exhale and relax. The Chef’s fingers are at my tight asshole, and I feel the ginger plug being pushed in.
For a few instants, nothing happens, and I sigh with relief. All that fear for nothing. But then, the prickly, itching heat fills my anal passage, and I whimper. “It burns,” I whine.
The guys laugh. “It’s supposed to, Steph,” the Playboy says. “Now, come here.”
I get up to walk across, and a line of fire across my butt stops me. That’s the Dominant, and he has a crop in his hand. I clench as the pain blooms, and a fresh wave of heat from the ginger greets me. Instantly, I relax my anal muscles as best as I can. Don’t clench, I tell myself, but I have a feeling that many of this afternoon’s fun and games are going to involve fresh waves of flaming heat from the ginger root in my ass.
“Did I tell you that you could get up, kitten?” The Dominant’s voice causes me to shiver in uncontrolled need.
“I’m sorry, Sir.” I meet his eyes pleadingly. I’m not sure if I’m begging to be punished, or begging for forgiveness.
“Crawl over to Wade,” he orders, and I obey, padding on the soft carpet as I make my way to the Playboy. He’s sitting on a loveseat. He pats his lap, and I rise, positioning myself across his strong thighs. My head rests on the low arm of the couch, and my legs spread open. One leg is braced on the floor; the other is on the cushion.
The Playboy’s hand holds me in position, as his fingers stroke my folds. “Dripping wet,” he announces. “Gentlemen. How many spanks, do you think, before Stephanie’s really aware of the ginger in her ass?”
I want to tell the Playboy that I’m pretty aware of the ginger in my ass right now, thank you very much. The heat is a constant presence. My nails dig into my palms, and only the fact that I’m intensely interested in the scene unfolding in the Dominant’s luxurious study keeps me from whimpering in protest at the fire in my ass.
Ten spanks, they decide. Just a warm-up. And it would be normally. But not the way they are playing it tonight, with the ginger embedded in my butt.
“You know,” the Technician walks over, unbuckling his belt and removing it from its loops as he moves towards me. His fingers unzip his trousers and he pulls his cock out from his briefs. It’s hard. Ready. Delicious. “It occurs to me that Stephanie wants to practice her cock-sucking skills. I feel obligated to help.”
I roll my eyes at him, and he grins at me. His head nudges at my lips, and I part them. Oh, who am I kidding? This is beyond hot.
“Do let me know if her teeth graze you, Thomas.” This is the Playboy, and there’s steel in his voice. Whoa there. Don’t my guys know they have roles? The Playboy can’t be all BDSM-y. That’s the Dominant’s job.
The Technician thrusts into my mouth; the Playboy spanks my ass, while fingering my clitoris at the same time. A light, teasing touch, it isn’t going to get me off. It just serves to keep me extra-horny.
Each spank echoes around the room, and my ass clenches, every single time. My anal passage is on fire, and my pussy is smoldering in resonance. The Playboy’s fingers refuse to fuck me. He just keeps stroking my folds. I’m a whimpering, moaning mess, and from the Technician’s grunt of approval, he can feel every vibration of my throat.
My eyes wander, as best they can. I see all the guys have their dicks out now, and
they are all ready. Some of them lazily fist their cocks in their hands and my mouth absolutely waters. Though that could have something to do with the way the Technician is throat-fucking me.
I’m one of those girls that really, really loves the noise of a blow-job, that slobbery, retching noise that you make as your mouth is ravaged by a hard dick. Those noises fill the room now, as the Technician fucks my mouth.
Everything in my body is about to burst into flames.
“Ten,” the Playboy counts as his hand descends on my ass in a hard, aching smack. I clench my cheeks automatically, and a fresh wave of ginger-induced pain fills my ass. I whimper, and that must be it for the Technician, because his hands grip my hair, and he comes in my mouth with a muffled groan.
He staggers away, looking slightly dazed. A look I can understand perfectly, because that’s exactly how I’m feeling.
Mr. Buttman takes the place of the Technician, and I obediently open my mouth. I’m still on the Playboy’s lap. His hands are still running through my plump pussy lips. Every once a while, his fingers graze my clitoris, and I jump a little and moan, my lips wrapped around Mr. Buttman’s dick. I’m getting in a zone here. The ginger has faded to a warm heat that spreads through my ass, and my pussy is craving cock. Damn it, I think irritably to myself. There are six guys here. Surely, one of them wants to fuck me.
Right at that moment, the Playboy wickedly pushes three fingers into my pussy, and I hiss and twitch, and graze Mr. Buttman’s cock with my teeth. Just a little, but judging from the amused twinkle in his eyes, he’s been waiting for this moment.
“The slut bit me.” His voice is annoyed, though he ruins the effect by winking at me.
“Did she?” This is the Doctor’s voice, his accent pronounced. “I have just the thing.” I hear him walk over, and he’s holding some kind of metal gag in his hands. “This is a Jennings gag, my friend.” I can hear the relish in his voice. “It will hold her mouth open for you.”
“Just a minute,” the Dominant interrupts with a quick safety reminder. “Kitten, what’s your sign if you can’t speak?”
I smile at him. His reminder is both for me and for the rest of the guys. None of them will hurt me deliberately, I know, but with my mouth gagged, I won’t be able to tell them. So I show them the gesture – a vigorous shake of my head, three times, signaling a stop till my concerns have been met.
They all nod their understanding, and my heart swells. These guys are perfect.
The Doctor’s attention returns to the gag. His hands stroke my lips, and I open my mouth obediently, and the metal device is ratcheted into place. There’s no strap – I can reach out with my hands and remove it, if I want, but why would I do that?
I make a mental note to get the Doctor to use this on me as much as possible. I really want my gag reflex gone. Plus, my pussy is gushing right now into the Playboy’s fingers at the thought of oral training.
“She’s dripping all over me.” The Playboy’s voice is husky with desire. “Fuck, Stephanie.” His hand strokes my ass and my pussy. I moan around the gag, as lust sparkles on my skin. At that moment, Mr. Buttman pushes his cock back into my mouth, forced open by the metal gag.
“Ah fuck, this is nice,” he grunts. I hear the wet, slurping sounds I make. The gag is keeping my mouth forced open, and I can’t control the blow job at all. There’s no licking the underside of Mr. Buttman’s hard dick, no swirl of my tongue around his engorged head. I can’t squeeze my lips around his cock. I can only get mouth-fucked.
I love it.
He’s attentive. He pauses every once in a while so I can draw breath. The Playboy has, in the meanwhile, taken advantage of the fact that I can’t bite down on Mr. Buttman with my teeth, and is finger-fucking my pussy. “Three fingers,” he announces. “What do you think, Steph? Want another?”
I grunt around the gag, an incoherent noise that the Playboy takes as acquiescence. Each time the Playboy pushes his fingers deep in my pussy, I’m rocked forward and Mr. Buttman’s cock is pushed deeper in my mouth. So good. So very, very good.
Mr. Buttman grunts. I can feel his balls draw up and tighten, then he explodes in my mouth. At the same time, my own orgasm overcomes me, and I gulp down frantically, and manage to swallow most of his load, but a few drops trickles down my face. The Dominant’s there to shake his head in amused disapproval. “Have I taught you nothing?” he asks rhetorically.
I’m fed the cum I’ve failed to swallow, my tongue licking the drippings off Mr. Buttman’s fingers. Then, I’m pulled up, and the gag’s removed from my mouth. I massage my jaw, and I’m handed a bottle of water. “Thanks,” I say gratefully and drink.
The Dominant extends his hand to me. The Playboy comes behind me and pulls the ginger out, and pushes in a medium-sized glass butt plug in its place. “We are all okay with you suffering through the ginger,” he says with a cheeky grin. “But none of us want to fuck your ass until all the heat from the ginger dies down.”
I roll my eyes. Pussies. It isn’t like their dicks are going in bareback either – they’ll be wearing condoms. “Of course,” I say dryly, and the Dominant chuckles and positions me on the low, glass coffee table, face up. He kisses me, a brief graze of his lips before he pulls away.
The men cluster around me. I reach out and grab a cock in each hand. The Dominant and the Playboy. The Chef rolls on a condom and pushes into my still-sensitive pussy, and I whimper. The Doctor’s legs straddle me, and he pushes a dick in my mouth.
I’m completely overwhelmed. There’s a cock in my throat, one in my pussy, and two, twitching in my palms. This is the full, pornstar experience, and I’m in heaven.
Each thrust of the Chef’s cock pushes my mouth deeper on the Doctor. The Chef’s hands are locked on my breasts, squeezing the flesh, teasing my nipples between his fingers, running his nails over my tender skin. I’m vaguely aware that I’m stroking the two dicks in my hands.
The room sounds like a symphony of sex. There’s my whimpering. There’s male groaning. There’s some swearing, both by the guys, and by me, my lips distended around the Doctor’s cock. There’s the slapping of the Chef’s body against my thighs. If there’s a soundtrack to my life, it’s being played in this room.
The Chef’s fingers move over my body to find my clitoris as he speeds up his thrusts. He must be close. In my mouth, the Doctor pumps faster as well, and from the sounds of his growls, he’s not far away either. Taking advantage of the fact that I can move my lips, I suck his cock hard, hollowing my cheeks and licking the underside of his cock with my tongue.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he rumbles as he erupts. I giggle slightly as I swallow down what seems to be buckets of semen. I’d have expected the Doctor to swear in Spanish, but evidently, fuck transcends linguistic borders.
The Chef’s grip tightens painfully on my hips, and he hisses as he too ejaculates. My hands move faster over the cocks of the Dominant and the Playboy. But they exchange a look at each other and pull away. “Later, kitten,” the Dominant promises.
I’m not actually that surprised that the Dominant won’t let himself come this early in the proceedings. He’s all about the control, Stuart. And today, I’m learning some new things about the Playboy.
My pussy aches. I want to come again. The Chef teased, with his fingers, but he stopped before I could come.
“What now?” The Technician speaks from his spot on the couch.
The Dominant grins. “Why don’t you bring out the machine you brought?” he asks. “Unless someone’s ready for Stephanie now?”
They aren’t. The Technician and Mr. Buttman still need a few minutes. The Chef and the Doctor just came. And the Dominant and the Playboy are restraining themselves, damn it. But I have no doubt that they have something sinful in store for me. The amusement sparkling in the Dominant’s eyes practically promises it.
I’m tied up to the door, my ass facing the room. My hands are cuffed and drawn upwards, and attached to hooks on either side of the entryway. My legs a
re spread apart, and secured to bolts on the floor. “Been remodeling?” I ask the Dominant snidely. I’m fairly sure the floor bolts in the study are new.
The Dominant laughs. “Only the best for your birthday, kitten.”
The Technician comes over. There’s a fucking machine in his hands. Of course. It’s a slim contraption. A wide metal base to give it stability, a thin steel rod functions as the thrusting arm, and a large dildo protrudes from it. He sets it up with quick efficient movements. The Dominant pours a generous amount of lube over the dildo. “Not that you’ll need it, kitten,” he smirks. “Let’s turn it on.”
It is a very good thing that the wrist cuffs are holding me up, because, without them, I’d have given way as the dildo slowly inches into my wet pussy. I’m painfully aroused. My clitoris feels swollen and my slit drips. The Chef’s fingers have teased me, and my body is primed to explode.
Each maddeningly slow push of the dildo into my wet canal makes every nerve in my pussy come alive. I close my eyes and just feel. The way the large toy parts my folds as it pushes in. The movement of the glass butt plug in my anal passage, in response to the dildo in my pussy. The tingling in my entire body as unseen hands run over my breasts, squeezing and pinching and biting. A teasing tongue on my clitoris, applying light, fluttering strokes.
A click of a remote, and the machine moves faster. Now, I’m grinding down on it, swaying my hips in response to the strokes. The hands tighten around my breasts. Clamps are attached to my nipples, and the momentary searing pain sends a jolt of sharp lust through me. The tongue licks faster, tapping a steady rhythm now. I keep my eyes closed. I could open them and look down, and see who’s strumming my clitoris with such intent, but there’s magic in not knowing. There’s magic in just surrendering to the pleasure.
“Come for me, kitten.” The Dominant gives me the order he has given me so many times in the past, and I shatter, cuffs rattling, thighs twitching, shaking all over, as my climax rolls over me.
I drown in pleasure.
DIRTY X6 (A MFMMMMM Menage Romance) Page 6