by Opal Carew
He stood up and his gaze glided along the chains, from nipple to nipple, then down to her pussy. Then he flicked the chain, causing all kinds of wild sensation to ripple through her.
He hooked his finger through the chain and walked toward the bed. She followed closely, the tugging—on her clit in particular—sending pleasure pulsing through her.
He positioned her in front of the two men and they gazed at her hungrily.
“Fuck, that looks incredible.” Mr. Jacobs squeezed one of the nipple clamps a little tighter. “Do you like that, slave?”
“Yes, Master Jacobs.”
He smiled heartily. Mr. Smith tugged the chain, pulling on her clit and she gasped.
“I think you like that,” Mr. Smith said.
Mr. Jacobs removed one of the nipple clamps and surrounded her aureole with his warm mouth. Her nipple was ultra sensitive after the clamp, so when he suckled, she moaned out loud. Mr. Smith got on his knees in front of her and tugged on the clit clamp again, sending swirling sensation through her.
Mr. Jacobs returned the clamp to her nipple and removed the other, then suckled that nub. It pulsed with need. Mr. Smith pressed her legs wide apart and ran his fingertip over her clamped clit, the clip exposing her now very sensitive button. When she felt his tongue brush over it, she thought she'd faint. Her knees did start to buckle, but Mr. King, standing behind her, grasped her arms before she tumbled to the floor.
He led her to a chaise in the corner. Mr. Smith and Mr. Jacobs knelt on either side of her. Mr. Jacobs continued sucking her nipple. Mr. Smith ran his fingertip over her clit, sending fluttering need through her. Then he leaned down and licked her.
“Oh, yessss, Master Smith.”
Mr. King, now standing at the head of the chaise, grasped the chain and tugged lightly. She moaned at the multiple, deliriously delightful sensations.
“Slave, open.”
She glanced up to see Mr. King had moved beside her and he was presenting his huge, pulsing cock to her. She opened wide and he slid it into her mouth. She immediately sucked, pulsing her mouth around him. With all the stimulation she was receiving, it was soothing and exciting having his thick, hard cock in her mouth. Sucking on it.
He glided deeper into her mouth and she opened her throat for him. He bumped the back of her throat, then drew back a little. Then glided forward. He pulsed into her in short strokes as Mr. Jacobs and Mr. Smith teased her nipples and clit. She slid her hand into Mr. King's pants and found his balls, then cupped them gently.
Mr. Smith tugged on the chain, a little hard, and she gasped. Mr. King pulled his cock from her mouth.
“Are you all right?” he asked, concern washing across his features.
She just nodded, sucking in air at the incredible pleasure-pain the clamps were causing as Mr. Smith pulled in light pulses.
Mr. King knelt down and removed the nipple clamp and suckled her breast beside Mr. Jacobs. Only the clit clamp was still on.
“Oh, God, it feels so good with both of you sucking my nipples,” she murmured, her head falling back on the couch.
Then Mr. Smith suckled her clit and…
She arched forward as pleasure surged through her. “Yes! Oh, God, that's so...” Then she whimpered.
Mr. Smith removed the final clamp, then his fingers glided inside her. He pulsed them into her. That along with the suckling on her nipples and clit were too much to handle. She gasped and arched, then felt bliss explode within her, swelling through her whole being as she wailed her release.
“Ah, fuck, I need to be inside her.” Mr. Jacobs tugged on her legs, pulling her to the end of the chaise, then he knelt and pressed his big cockhead to her wet passage.
When he thrust inside her, filling her with his long, pulsing cock, she cried out in pleasure.
He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her to him, then captured her lips. His tongue drove inside her as his cock thrust deep again. He kept thrusting, then stared into her eyes.
“You feel so fucking good around my cock, slave. I'm going to make you come hard and fast.”
She nodded, knowing he would, because she was already so close, and still euphoric from the first orgasm.
He pumped into her, her body tensing around him, the pleasure building.
“Oh, God, yes!” she practically screamed.
He thrust and thrust, then groaned his release. His hot come filled her and she groaned along with him.
“God damn,” Mr. Smith said, stroking his sizable erection.
“You want to fuck her in the ass, Smith?” Mr. King asked.
“Fuck yes. But let's do her at the same time.”
“Fine.” Mr. King stripped off his suit and Sylvia couldn't help watching his flexing muscles as he pulled off his clothes. He walked to the bed and lay down on it.
Mr. Smith stripped, too. She hadn't seen these other men naked and was delighted to see his six-pack abs and sculpted chest. His cock looked even longer not protruding from pants.
“Slave, come and impale yourself on my cock,” Mr. King said.
“Yes, Master.” She walked to the bed and climbed over him. She wrapped her hand around his thick column and pressed it to her wet opening. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him. She couldn't help moaning as his big staff filled her.
She felt the mattress compress as Mr. Smith knelt on the bed behind her. His big hands cupped her breasts and he stroked. She squeezed Mr. King inside her.
Mr. Smith kissed the back of her neck as his palms pulsed around her breasts. She moaned softly. Mr. King grasped her shoulders and drew her forward.
Did he want to kiss her?
He drew her tight to his chest, pressing her head against his shoulder. She faced his neck, her breath lightly fluttering wisps of his wavy hair at his temple.
Mr. Smith's slick cockhead pushed against her puckered opening. He must have applied lube. The pressure against her opening increased and his cockhead widened her then slid inside. It stretched her, but once it was inside, he glided forward, pushing his long cock deeper. Slowly. She squeezed Mr. King's cock with her internal muscles as Mr. Smith continued to slide into her.
Finally, Mr. Smith was all the way inside.
“Fuck, the sight of the three of you like that is intense,” Mr. Jacobs said as he stroked his cock, which was already swelling to a new erection.
“You feeling left out?” Mr. King asked.
“Yeah, a little bit,” Mr. Jacobs lamented. “I shouldn't have been so eager.”
“There is a solution to that,” Mr. King said. “I think Evan would be happy to accommodate you.”
Mr. Jacobs stroked his cock faster, but looked dubious.
“Fuck, man, I'd be happy to,” Mr. Smith said, his voice hoarse with need.
Mr. Jacobs stripped down to nothing. Sylvia glanced at the dresser mirror as she felt the bed compress again as he settled behind Mr. Smith.
“Oh, yeah. Fuck.” Mr. Smith's body pushed against hers as Mr. Jacobs pushed into him.
It was so exciting watching Mr. Jacobs' thick cock glide into Mr. Smith's ass. And his murmurs of pleasure quivered through her. Once Mr. Jacobs was fully immersed, he paused to suck in air.
She couldn't believe it. Mr. Smith had a big cock inside his ass while his big cock filled hers. Mr. King's erection twitched inside her vagina, as if to remind her of his presence.
As if she could forget.
Then the cock inside her ass started to move. She watched in the mirror as Mr. Jacobs pulled back, then glided forward. Like a ripple effect, Mr. Smith's cock glided deeper into her, pushing Mr. King's cock deeper into her front passage.
Mr. Jacobs started a steady rhythm. The two behind her moved forward, filling her deep, then Mr. King pushed back, his thick cock filling her and pushing her body back against them.
Soon they became like one. The cocks filled her and glided back, filled her and glided back. A euphoria gripped her as the cocks drove into her, pleasure swelling. Delightful eddies of sensation
s rippled through her.
They plunged deeper, and she cried out. Behind her, Mr. Smith moaned.
“Ah, fuck, I'm going to come again,” Mr. Jacobs warned. Then the bodies behind her surged forward and he groaned.
Mr. Smith gasped, then surged deeper. His cock released inside her ass. The sensation of hot liquid filling her there made her moan.
Mr. King cupped her chin and turned her to face him. His penetrating blue eyes locked on her and she gazed back at him, mesmerized. His expression was taut, as if he was struggling for control.
“I'm going to come, slave, and I want you to come with me.”
She nodded, unable to utter a word as the sensations bombarded her.
He cupped her ass and thrust forward.
And again.
Then she felt it. His cock pulsed inside her and…
“Ohhhhh. Master.”
He jerked deeper and she moaned. Joy burst through her and she wailed as she sailed to ecstasy.
“Tell me you're coming,” he insisted, his deep voice melting through her.
She nodded as the joy blasted through her. “Oh… yes…” she whimpered. “I...” She arched as the orgasm surged again. “I'm coming…”
The words, barely audible, seemed enough to satisfy him as she rode the wave of pure bliss higher and higher.
Her wails filled the room and with renewed vigor, Mr. King thrust deep and hard. She grasped his shoulders, now riding him like a galloping steed. Absently, she realized the other bodies behind her had moved away and the two men just watched from the sidelines as Mr. King drove her pleasure higher and higher. Finally, she gasped, sucking in much needed air, then she seemed to fade away.
Sylvia opened her eyes and gazed up at Mr. King, who watched her with concern.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She glanced around, trying to get her bearings. She was lying on the bed in the suite.
“I'm fine. Where are—?”
“They left.”
She nodded and pushed back her hair. He sat down beside her and took her hand.
“Sylvia, I'm sorry about this whole thing.” He sighed. “After last night, I think I was just trying to put some distance between you and my feelings. But the way Robertson was acting. It was just going wrong.”
She sat up. “It's okay. I'm really sorry about last night. I never wanted to hurt you.” She squeezed his hand, gazing into his somber blue eyes. “Mr. King, you are the perfect man for me. I might not be able to truthfully say I love you now...” She rested her hand on his shoulder. “But I'm sure in time, it will be true. I want that to be true more than anything.”
He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “So do I.”
Sylvia followed Mr. King into the house, then set down her bag and took off her shoes. It had been a fun day at the office today. It was her birthday, so Mr. Connor and Mr. Sayed had both given her gifts. A basket of bath products and a pretty scarf, respectively. They'd all gone out to lunch and in the afternoon, they'd brought out a cake and sung happy birthday.
Mr. King handed her the basket and the gift bag with the scarf. “Why don't you put those in your room and then come to me in the bedroom.”
She smiled. “Yes, Sir.”
She went into her room and placed the gift basket on the dresser, then put the scarf in the top drawer. She stripped off her black fitted suit and dove grey blouse, then her under things, as he usually liked her to do, then she walked to the door of the master bedroom and stepped inside.
She couldn’t help noticing a black gift box with a large silver bow sitting on the bed, but she turned her gaze to Mr. King. He sat in the armchair, a smile on his face as his gaze glided over her naked body. She knelt on the floor beside his knee.
He stroked her hair behind her ear.
“I'm going to take you out tonight to celebrate your birthday.”
“Thank you, Master. Where?”
He smiled. “That's a surprise. Right now, I want you to put on the dress I bought you. It's in the box on the bed.”
She stood up and walked to the bed, wondering where Mr. King was taking her. Maybe they’d go out dancing. He'd been asking her what kinds of things she liked to do over the past week and she'd hinted about it.
She lifted off the lid and drew out the slinky, long red dress. There was a pair of shoes in the box and a pair of black gloves, but nothing else. No lingerie of any kind. She turned to him uncertainly.
“Put it on.”
She pulled it over her head and the slinky fabric glided down her body, clinging to every curve. It was cut low in front with narrow straps, and was completely backless. She put the tall stiletto pumps on the floor—red with rhinestone trim—and stepped into them. Then she pulled on the long, black gloves.
“Turn around,” he said, his blue gaze locked on her.
She glanced at herself in the mirror as she turned, and her cheeks flushed. The outline of her nipples and aureoles were perfectly visible through the fabric, as was the dent over her navel. She could only guess what she looked like from behind.
She couldn't imagine going out in public in this dress.
But if he commanded it, she would do it.
He stood up and walked toward her.
“There's only one thing missing.”
A long flowing overdress that would hide her, she hoped.
But he held up a band of five rows of small rhinestones. He drew her hair to one side, the light brush of his fingers sending goose bumps along her flesh, and wrapped it around her neck, then fastened it. He turned her toward the mirror and she saw a gold pendant hanging from the front, which formed the word 'slave'.
Then he arranged her hair so it cascaded over her bare shoulders.
“Perfect. Let's go.” He took her hand and led her out the front door to the car. Once they were sitting inside it, he drew a red band of cloth that matched her dress from his pocket. “As I said, where we're going is a surprise, so I'm going to blindfold you.”
He tied the fabric around her head, covering her eyes, then started the car.
It was strange sitting in the moving car, her eyes covered by the fabric, with no idea where they were going. At first, she noticed every stop, acceleration and turn, then she just settled back in the seat and enjoyed the quiet lull of the moving vehicle.
They drove for about forty minutes, then he stopped the car.
“I'm going to put a shawl around your shoulders now. It's very dressy, with sequins. I think you'll like it. Then I'm going to take your hand and walk you to our destination.”
He unlatched her seat belt, then she felt the shawl glide over her shoulders. She heard his car door close and she waited, apprehensive about walking around in public with the blindfold, with no idea where they were. At least the shawl would cover the revealing dress.
Her door opened and he took her hand. She stepped out and followed him. Her heels clacked on a tiled or marble floor and she could hear people around them. A ding sounded and he stopped.
“We're in the elevator.”
She heard the doors close behind her.
“It's just the two of us.”
She wanted to ask if she could take off the blindfold yet, but she held back. He was in control.
The doors whooshed open and he took her arm and led her along. After a few moments, he stopped, then a door opened and he led her inside. Somewhere.
“We're here. And I'm sure you want to ask if you can take off the blindfold now, but the answer is no.”
She clung to his arm. “Are we alone?” she asked softly.
“No.”
She tightened her hold on him, leaning in close to his body.
“There is another man here.” He drew the shawl from her shoulders.
She tensed, knowing the other man now saw her in this dress that barely hid anything of her naked body.
“Who is it?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“It doesn't matter. I just thought if we were going to
go dancing, you might like to dance with someone other than just me.”
He lifted her hand and pressed a glass into it. “But first, a glass of champagne.”
She sipped. The bubbles tickled as they went down. She sipped again.
Music started playing and Mr. King pressed his hand to her back. “Finish that up and we'll dance.”
She tipped it back, then held out the empty glass. It disappeared from her fingers and he drew her into his arms. They floated around the dance floor to the soft, swaying music. It was nice being in Mr. King's arms, their bodies moving together.
The song ended and another began. Slow and sultry. She felt a quiver down her spine as she felt a presence behind her. Mr. King drew back and turned her around.
The other man's hand enveloped hers and he drew her close to his body. She rested her hand on his shoulder as he flattened a hand on her lower back, drawing her close. With a sure grip, he moved her around the floor. Slowly. His hard, broad body tight to hers.
She followed him breathlessly, her feet moving, her head spinning. Breathing in his cologne—musky and familiar.
It couldn't be. Surely Mr. King wouldn't allow it.
The song ended and the man tipped up her chin. As soon as his lips claimed hers, she knew. Her heart pounded and she felt her knees grow weak.
His mouth drew away.
“Mr. Grant?” she asked in a breathless whisper.
She could sense his smile. His lips brushed hers again, but he didn't answer. The music continued and he turned her around then drew her tight again, her back to him now, and danced with her facing away from him. His hands cupped her breasts. The nipples surged forward into his palms and she rested her had back against his shoulder as they moved to the slow music. When the song ended, he stopped.
“I thought this would be a nice surprise for you birthday,” Mr. King said, now standing in front of her. His hands wrapped around her hips—Mr. Grant's still covered her breasts—and he stroked down her stomach. Then one hand cupped her mound through the fabric. He pushed it between her legs and his fingers dipped into her. She could feel the slickness as his fingertips stroked her.
“You're wet for us.” His hand moved away. “I can see it on your dress.”