4
Celia wasted no time in making herself at home and found the party to be quite enjoyable.
A deep ache thumped in Celia’s pelvis as she straddled a man dressed in a monk’s habit. Her lips were sore from his bristly beard, but she renewed her passion as she fought her ample skirts to give the hardness that poked through his cloak a chance to enter her.
The dress had proved successful and a hindrance. The guy in the habit, Remy, had given her ass a playful squeeze during the evening’s introductions, and she had wasted no time finding him.
Celia had not bothered with panties for this costume, and counted her blessings that it was one less layer to remove to get Remy’s hard knob into her aching pussy.
Remy’s cock sat up from between the brown fabric folds trembling, it curled slightly to the side revealing a thick throbbing vein.
Finally feeling the cool evening air on her creaming hole, Celia lined up her slit and dropped violently down into Remy’s lap, the curve of his length stretched her opening deliciously.
They sat on an oversized wingback armchair, and Celia wrapped her hands over the back and dipped her hips down to suck in more of the rigidness.
Remy grasped at her dress and buttocks, leaning forward to kiss Celia’s bouncing breasts.
Mid-thrust, a wiry hand clasped onto Celia’s forearm and the shrill call of Diane broke her concentration.
“Celia, you most come with me. There’s a special game that you must play,”
Diane all but hauled Celia off of Remy’s lap, and while he was slightly annoyed, another woman, sans skirt, leapt into the chair and using Celia’s slick juices to lubricate her own entry bounced enthusiastically on his cock.
Celia’s skirts fell back in to place - another hindrance to put up with.
Lead through the cavernous house, she was asked to stop in what may have been a rumpus room. Thick candles were mounted on every surface on the edge of the room and extra large hung mirrors reflected the mellow light into the scene before her.
Seven men sat around a roughly hewn circular table.
“Welcome Celia, to the Table Of Plenty,” Anton stepped into view from behind a seated guest, “This here is our special turntable,” with that, Anton gave the table surface a push and the tabletop spun.
Celia could see four soft leather loops bolted onto the table and the glint of a painted red arrow near the edge. The area in the centre was worn completely smooth.
“You are invited to the table and asked to submit to being tied. Once tied, the table will be spun and whomever the arrow points at will get the chance to fuck you. Are you interested?” there was a short riding crop in his hand.
The naughtiness was too much to ignore, “Yes, I am. What do you need me to do?”
Stepping up onto the table, the seated guests handed her a towel to pop under her head and gently secured her wrists and ankles to the loops so Celia was spread-eagled on the table. Anton had asked her to keep her dress on, as it would only tantalize the guests further.
The ceiling featured a massive mirror that encompassed the whole table, and the large mirrors on the walls also reflected her image. Her heart thumped keenly in her throat with excitement, her dress already dampening with the thought of being ravaged on a table by strangers.
“Are you ready?” Anton’s face appeared in the corner of her vision, “Remember anytime you say ‘suffice’ you will be unbound from the Table of Plenty,”
“Yes, I’m ready.”
With that, Anton instructed all his guests to lay a hand on the table and spin it clockwise.
After several rotations the table came to a smooth stop. Celia couldn’t look up past her breasts to see who had been indicated, but there was a gentle cheer near her feet.
There was a rustle of fabric, and Celia felt the table dip just slightly as one of the mystery guests clamored on top.
A young muscled guy with a shaved head appeared from beneath Celia’s breasts, his arms glistening with body oil. He was clothed from the waist down, but when she poked her head up she could just make out the head of his cock protruding from his pants. The guy looked nervous wrestling with her skirts.
“Hey,” Celia whispered in his ear, “Why don’t you put it in my mouth first.”
The guy broke a wry smile and whispered a “thank you” before looking up at his audience, “I reckon the beauty is hungry. I’m thinking I’ll give her a taste?”
The men cheered and toasted, revealing drinks hidden from the surface of the turntable.
Climbing over her chest, the shaved headed guy straddled her face, tipped forward and let his cock slip into Celia’s warm wet mouth.
“She’s a good-un,” the guy was playing up the theme, but his reactions were real and he was letting the thrusts of his pelvis come naturally.
He let out a moan and worked his cock deeper into her mouth, the bulbous head of his length swelling as she pressed her tongue into him.
The guy drew his now engorged cock from Celia’s mouth and cried out “Excalibur!” to the laughs of the audience before shimmying back down the table and pulling up the many skirts.
Now able to see in the ceiling mirror, Celia watched her lover push her skirts back and climb on top. He gave a perfunctory swirl of his finger on her hardening clit, and thrust into her slit, the welcome return of rigidness pleasing her more than she could say since being interrupted by Diane.
With her arms strapped to the table, Celia was turned on by watching the oiled back muscles of her suitor flex with every thrust, the power of his desire making her writhe uncontrollably. After several thrusts, the guy dug his hands into Celia’s shoulders and came, his length jerking against her g-spot. The guy slipped out, and gave Celia’s damp forehead a kiss.
Disappointed, Celia watched him descend and high-five his comrades before leaving the table to let another sit.
“Are you ready Celia?” Anton asked.
“Yes.”
The table spun, harder this time, and it seemed like the revolutions weren’t going to stop before the room’s spinning came to a slow halt.
“Apologies for that Celia, we have some very eager guests who seem to want to be with you tonight. I promise you won’t be spun that hard again,” Anton’s voice was edged with iron, and although she couldn’t see it, she was sure he was giving someone a visual dressing down.
Celia was enjoying the safety that Anton was giving. It felt like anything could happen in this room and she’d be safe.
This time, the arrow had selected a knight to join her. The guest was disrobing some of his cumbersome costume and pulled back the hood to reveal a tremendously handsome face framed by tousled blonde hair. It was a face that would give Trent a cause for concern.
The knight was wearing nothing but black, his tunic featuring an elaborate “M” and “A” done in medieval style script. The knight peeled the tunic off, uncovering a chiseled, suntanned body. He adjusted his pants by loosening the tie cord and climbed onto the table.
The knight got his face level with Celia’s and propping himself up on one elbow he rummaged through her skirts and brought his hand to her throbbing centre.
Ever so gently, he began to swirl his fingers and massage her aching pussy.
“That last guy was a bit brutal in the end, you just relax,” his eyes looked kind, warm and strikingly familiar, but she soon swept that thought aside to succumb to his hands.
Giving in to the sensations, Celia opened her knees and pulled against the holds to try and give the knight better access.
“She likes you,” Anton smiled.
Celia moaned and took a look around the room. From above, she could see the knight’s hand buried in her skirts, the muscles in his arm flexing erotically. To her side, she could see in the mirrors her voyeurs squirming in their seats. Some of the most brazen pulled out their cocks to masturbate to the live sex show.
“It’s ok boys, you can pleasure yourself as you watch, but if you come you leave your ch
air,” Anton instructed. In the wake of his words several other men open flopped out their engorged members and pumped excitedly.
The knight slid his fingers in her hole and nuzzled her already active g-spot, causing her pussy to clench.
The knight chuckled and slid his fingers out, “My turn,”
The man slipped between her thighs and lined up his erect sex. For Celia, this would be the first time she hadn’t seen a cock before it went in.
Slippery from the previous guy’s come, the knight had no issue sliding his pulsing head into her slit. He groaned with desire, letting Celia’s overexcited pussy muscles clamp onto his considerable girth.
The knight thrust gently, letting her juice spill over and drench the dress. With one hand, he untied Celia’s leather corset and swept her breasts out of the plunging neckline to suckle on them.
Men groaned in lust, with two voyeurs spurting come on the table.
Aroused by seeing these perfect strangers turned on by her loss of control, Celia clenched her pussy and sent her knight into energetic thrusts. Her hard clit was rubbed by the man’s rough pants, and she found a seed of her orgasm take root, her pelvis dropped and her pussy engorged, pulling another inch of the knight deeper inside. With another series of passionate thrusts, Celia screamed and her arms and legs shot out in their manacles as wave after wave of release swept from her toes to her fingertips. The knight grunted heavily and with a final plunge exploded his come, Celia’s pussy dripping with juice.
Panting, the knight propped himself up, gently kissed Celia’s breasts and slid off the table towards his original place.
“Well done Celia, you knocked off three men in one round,” Anton sounded impressed, “Would you like to go again?”
“Yes, just once more will suffice,” Celia gasped.
Anton chuckled, “For that, I am making the next choice, which I’m sure you will enjoy. Dev, your turn,”
Dev, Anton’s newest love, emerged from the shadows.
Dev was a beautiful man, but not one that Celia would ever considered bedding. He had a broad forehead, swept back deep brown hair and a perfectly square dimpled chin. He looked more like a Bollywood star than a lover she would choose, but if Anton wanted her to experience Dev, she was going to trust him.
This time, Dev didn’t undress her. Instead, he climbed onto the table and leveled his face with her crotch. With a warm and soft hand, Dev eased Celia’s damp skirts away to reveal what could only be the richest cream pie any of them had ever seen. Using the wall mirrors, Celia could see Dev lick his lips in appreciation – it all made sense.
Dev gently opened Celia’s labia and trailed his thick, long tongue up the length of her sex from oozing hole to pulsing clit.
Celia groaned with agonizing arousal.
After several tentative licks, Dev nuzzled his mouth down and slurped on her mixed juices of come and pussy. Dev alternated strong flat rubs against rigid tongue swirls around her throbbing bean. Celia clawed at her manacles, part of her trying to get away from the sensations, the other desperate for Dev to ravage her senseless.
Darting his tongue into her hot slit, Dev renewed his hunger and gobbled up the sticky fluid her past lovers had left.
With every stab of his tongue, Dev was bringing Celia to the brink of her next shattering orgasm. Turned on by her mingling tastes, Dev had taken his free hand to his pants and was fumbling with his crotch to free his rigid cock.
Showing no intention of wanting to fuck Celia made the session even more erotic. Celia bucked and thrust with her hips to finish the coiling sensation that grew in the pit of her stomach. Never had someone been so greedy to eat her out before. Her clit ached for release.
With a final tongue-stab, Celia screamed out as her orgasm ravaged her senses and shot her come-infused juice into Dev’s eager mouth, “Suffice! Suffice! Oh my god, suffice!”
Dev peeled his mouth away and took a nearby towel to wipe his mouth. Anton clapped and the seated guests gently released the manacles.
With gentle hands, the mystery men guided Celia off the table to where Anton stood holding a bathrobe.
“You, my dear, are a treasure,” he wrapped the robe around Celia, giving her some privacy to tuck her breasts back in, “Between you and me, Dev has a terrible time of getting a hard-on in group sessions, so what you did will keep me occupied for another few hours,” Anton winked and walked back to the dimly lit table to bring in the next invitee.
Back in the living room, Celia took a seat on a couch and breathed a sigh of relief; her clit had never been so completely worked.
Appearing from another side room, Trent was backslapping and jostling with another guy. It was the same handsome knight from the table.
Seeing them together triggered a familiarity she had only glimpsed fleetingly in the candlelit room. Her breath caught uncomfortably.
“Celia, I want you to meet someone very special to me,” he led the knight over. Catching her eye, the knight’s eyes flashed and he visibly blushed.
“This, is Celia,” Trent gestured to the stunned Celia, “and this, Celia, is my little brother Mark,”
Celia couldn’t help but laugh, “I’d hardly call him ‘little,’ Trent,” Mark’s lips pulled into a sneaky smile.
“But yes, I think I bumped into him and experienced some of the family resemblance.”
So, Celia thought, this is going to be a family affair.
THE BILLIONAIRE BROTHERS’ OFFER
1
Celia threw several large notes at the taxi driver and scrambled from the car, leaping over the roadway and clattering down the sidewalk to her after-work meeting.
Her day in the agency office had been arduous, at best, and she had underestimated the time it would for her to change in the work bathroom and get a taxi. Celia had on a form fitting, yet conservative looking, black dress and was mincing as fast as her pencil skirt would allow toward the restaurant. Her billionaire client and occasional bedroom partner, Trent Avery, had invited her to meet some of his international partners. While not the most unusual request Trent had ever asked her, like her first assignment where she organized a private group orgy and had her first girl-on-girl experience, Celia was not used to being exclusively invited to Avery Industries events. At the moment, Celia was organizing Avery Industries’ presence at an international IT convention and Trent had said that it was necessary she met the team before the convention.
Seeing the restaurant entrance just ahead, Celia stopped in the alcove of a closed shop and pulled her favorite killer stilettos from her handbag, replacing her comfy ballet flats in an instant.
Pulling down her dress and combing her bejeweled fingers through her glossy black hair, Celia took a few bracing breaths and made her way calmly to the restaurant entrance.
The restaurant was one of the most exclusive in the city, and it was said that it took months to get a booking; so how Trent was able to secure a table for eight within just a few days’ notice was practically a mystery.
Pushing through the solid oak door, Celia was enveloped by the heat and smell of rich foods.
A stern-faced maître de stood to attention at the door and gave Celia the once-over. Approving of Celia’s attire, the impeccably dressed older woman approached and offered to take Celia’s coat.
“Would you be the final guest for the Avery Industries table?” the woman swiftly removed the trench and hung it in a hidden cloakroom.
“Yes, actually I am, how did you know?”
“Oh, there isn’t another guest expected for 25 minutes, we make it our business to know who is coming in and when,” the woman’s eyes crinkled with a smile, which pleasantly melted her cool appearance.
With that, the lady motioned toward the sparse dining area. Unlike many other restaurants, the tables were few and far between. This not just to drive up the price and exclusivity of the tables but gave guests privacy – which also made the restaurant a hot spot for celebrities and cheating power-players.
Hidde
n behind an ornate screen was Celia’s table, a huge roundtable filled with broad-shouldered men in their late 40s who were at this point jostling and laughing. A buzz of excitement flitted up Celia’s spine; the last time she had been at a table like this she’d been ravished by three mysterious, and maybe not so mysterious, men.
Trent stood up from his seat the moment Celia came in to view, “This, gentlemen, is the very talented, Celia.”
Six pairs of eyes swiveled and fixed on to Celia; very quickly Trent introduced the guests with each giving a little wave or toast with their wineglass.
“I am very sorry I am late,” Celia started, “But the traffic from my side of town was just dreadful,”
“Not at all Celia, we were a little late ourselves,” the men all chuckled in agreement, “We were having just a little too much fun drinking at a nearby bar,” at that, Celia was seated in the spare chair on Trent’s right.
Celia nodded to the guest on her own right, a rugged and handsome looking man with short dark red hair, outdoorsy suntanned skin and vibrant green eyes.
“George,” the man smiled and stuck his hand out giving Celia’s a firm shake, Celia could detect a strong accent.
Celia waited for the maître de to pour her a glass of wine, and beamed back at her chivalrous neighbor, “Thanks, there were so many names that my mind is spinning. So, are you from the UK office?”
“Yeah, I’m here with Carl,” George pointed to a nondescript man across the table, “Now, call me crazy, but we’re just amazed by the work you’ve done so far, ever thought about making a go in the UK?”
ENSLAVED BY SHIFTERS Page 18