My wife had given me another chip from Linda and, almost in overtaking, told me that I had another shoot in a couple of weeks. She also told me to really keep an eye on what I ate and work out since I was going to be the entertainment for a party for some ladies. That had sounded very promising at the time.
So there I was kneeling in a closet hearing to the occasional murmur of voices and sounds of movement outside the room access. My married woman had had me dry wash thoroughly and shave all my body hair's-breadth before we had left dwelling. Once we arrived at Linda's menage my wrists were bound in front of me by the two women and I was taken to the press. There was a large very ordinary looking family unit room ( at to the lowest degree from what I saw when I went through it on my way through ) just the other side of the room access. At one level, Linda and blue jean opened the room access and added a pitch-black leather hood with an attached clump gag to my kit. Shoving the chunk gag into my mouth they had giggled and left me again.
Finally the door opened and my wife grabbed my spring wrists and pulled me out to join the party. At inaugural glance it looked like a rather run-of-the-mill looking party. There were wine bottleful and plates of snacks on a table and the six fair sex now staring at me all looked like sept you'd see in your neighbourhood, dressed casually with wine glasses in their hands. There were some odd notes. For one thing all of the women were wearing ornamental masks. Then there was the guy, also masked, pointing a video camera at me and the other television cameras scattered around the room. After a few moments, I realized that the guy's video camera was sending its pictures to the vauntingly flatscreen on the rampart. That meant that I could watch myself on TV or in the mirrors along one wall as I was led through them.
Then there was the bar dangling from a cable that went through a pulley block on the ceiling and was attached to a small hand-operated windlass on the wall. The bar was hung in the gist of the room and had leather handcuff on each end. That was where my wife took me.
Linda used the winch to lower the bar in front of me. blue jean fastened one cuff to my right wrist before untying me. Then she put the early cuff on my left wrist and gave a quarter round up. The winch cranked again and the bar slowly rose toward the ceiling, taking my carpus with it, stopping once my hands were just above my head. The bar was long enough that my custody were about a base outside my shoulders. Jean reached up and guided the bar between four posts extending from the ceiling. A few more play of the winch and my shoulder joint and weapon were fixed in place.
The other four char stood watching me with expectant looks on their faces, occasionally whispering something to each other and giggling. Embarrassed I looked around the room some more, noticing for the offset meter a table with a black cloth over it and a opprobrious plane draped over something oddly shaped next to that table. Linda lifted the cloth from the board, revealing a not bad row of boxes of diverse sizes. From one she removed a two foot long bar with cuffs on either end. She and my wife knelt down, cuffed that to my legs and slide two bolts into unobtrusive fix in the floor.
"OK ladies,"she said, returning to the mesa."Let's have some fun. Who wants to cut off his shirt ?"
All four of the others raised their hands enthusiastically, clamoring for the chance. Linda picked a diminutive brunette and handed her a large pair of scissors. Giggling nervously, she used the scissor hold to cut my t-shirt into small pieces, while I shivered at the skin senses of the frigidness sword. Then she grabbed the rip up garment and ripped it the eternal rest of the way off while her associates voiced their approval.
Linda selected a all-round blond and pointed at my shorts. This one carefully cut the shortstop up both legs to the waistband, then cut that material away from the waistcloth before cutting that and letting it decrease off. The giggles grew as Linda handed the scissor grip to a marvellous young lady with farsighted reddish hair.
I really shivered this time as she slid the sword under my briefs and slowly started cutting them away. When she cut plenty material away, my semi upright tool pushed through a gap, much to the amusement of the ladies. Then she cut the sash and I was naked except for my tough. The cleaning woman giggled and walked around me, commenting on my figure, while the hooded cameraman hovered around recording it all. The lingering closeups of my ass and cock that appeared on the TV in front of me made me even more uncomfortable. I learned later that all the charwoman knew each early in some fashion but no one other than Linda knew I was Jean's husband.
"You do the honors,"Linda said, handing my married woman a slight leather strap with silver snapshot.
I groaned aloud for the first time as she wrapped the strap tightly around my cock and globe and snapped it closed. While this was going on, Linda had collected some token from the table and put them on a TV tray, which she then placed future to me. I looked down and saw a with child arena of clothes peg along with six card sharp pens.
"OK ladies,"Linda said, picking up a pen and a clothespin."Time to decorate our toy."
With that she bent down and wrote, in surprisingly unspoiled penmanship, ‘ SLAVE'across my lower belly just above my turncock. I squirmed involuntarily at the delicate esthesis and the madam all rushed over to snaffle a pen and some clothespins.
I don't know if it was the wine or the anonymity of the masquerade but they did not act very lady-like for the future several minute, not that I minded. Each ma'am took a turn writing something on me as the others watched and made obscene remark and suggestions. ‘ SLUT ’, ‘ whore ’, ‘ BITCH'joined ‘ SLAVE'on my stomach, while word balloons on my dresser had my nipples appear to be saying ‘ insect bite ME ’, suction ME'AND ‘ clamp ME. On my back I acquired a tramp steamer postage stamp with an pointer pointing down that said ‘ COCK offer Here'as well as ‘ party whip ’, ‘ SPANK'and ‘ ass'on my allow buttock and ‘ ME'on my right field. They were having a grand old time and so was I. It got a bit more serious when the started decorating my front with the clothespins. A forest of clothes pin soon surrounded my nipples ( ‘ Leave the nipples for last, my married woman had said'). Then my peter and orchis disappeared under a cluster of clothespins. Always a soft touch for this kind of treatment, I moaned with pleasure when they put a line of pin on the underside of my peter and then circled the tip with more.
"He is a small painslut,"one of the char laughed as fluid leaked from my abused cock.
Even the sharper pain when the end two clothespins were put on my sensitive nipples did not lessen my use of the unit thing.
"OK, ma'am, time for the main event,"Linda, said from behind me.
The tv camera followed her as she walked to a door, opened it and beckoned for somebody to come out. That someone proved to be a muscular man slightly taller than I wearing a pair of tight black dungaree and an public executioner cowl. His bare chest shined in the brightness, obviously covered with oil, as he walked slowly into the room
The blithesome modality disappeared with his entering and the gentlewoman stepped back, whispering to one another. He stopped in front of me and dispassionately looked me over from head to toe. Then he circled me, inspecting me like some animal at the fair or slave at the market. After two trips around he again stopped in front of me. Smiling, he reached out and began slapping the clothes pin off of me.
I don't know if you've ever had that done but it is exquisitely awful and I jerked and groaned as he knocked them off in rapid succession, one at a time. When all the clothespins were on the floor he kicked them away and took another trip around, still looking me up and down. He stopped in front of me and looked pointedly at my still tumid and dripping cock. Then he looked me in the eyes, the visible part of his boldness was still impassive but his eyes were…hungry. I looked down submissively.
I started when he reached out and slowly trailed both hands from my articulatio humeri to my thighs then back up again, ignoring my futile squirming attempt to nullify his touch. The solitary sound was the rather heavy breathing of the ma'am as he did another slow turn around me, seeming to run his helping hand over every inch of me, like he was inspecting some sort of prized creature. When he got behind me again, he grabbed one laughingstock cheek in each script and circulate them wide-cut. Ignoring my helpless wriggling and muffled close call, he spent some metre inspecting my asshole while the cameraman also took a good look. I was literally trembling with…something… as he returned to my front. Using both hands, he thoroughly explored my cock and balls. Patting my ass again, he walked over to the table.
Grabbing the cloth-covered matter next to the table, he dragged it toward me, a metallic scratch audible as he moved it over the tile. Then, with a flourish, he pulled the cloth away to reveal…whatever the the pits it was. The starting time thing I noticed was the massive fateful lifelike dildo that stuck up from the dense metallic element tube that crossed the top. Its bag was very thick, nearly as stocky as the pipework that supported it. That massive cinch gradually tapered to a relatively modest head teacher at least a metrical unit away from the pipe. The top pipe was supported by a clever mental synthesis of identical pipage built on top on two line of latitude tube that rested on the trading floor with the domain in movement of and behind the top pipe left open up. The man walked away and the lady took the chance to inspect the device.
"That is the biggest dildo I've ever seen,"the well-rounded blonde said in awe.
"Technically, it's a dong, a dildo has balls."the bantam brunette observed.
The magniloquent miss wrapped her hand on the shaft and mouthed ‘ Oh my God'when she discovered that her digit did not reach all the way around the base. She looked at me sympathetically as there was no doubt who it was going to be used on.
The man returned carrying a large box that he placed on the floor next to me before liberally covering the dildo with a chummy coating of lubricator. Then he dragged the contraption behind me, sliding one undefended end of the nucleotide toward me until the trave was right-hand behind me. The dildo was pressed against the crack of my ass ; the cold metal of the organ pipe against my buttocks made me shiver. I was, however, puzzled on how this was going to work. Even though the dildo leaned slightly toward me, I didn't see how he was going to get it in place to enter me.
While I pondered that, he stepped around and knelt to remove the bolts that fixed the broadcaster bar to the floor, then used the winch to purloin me until I was standing on tiptoe. He pulled two large superposable books from the box, each a one-half edge deep book of an encyclopedia, and slid them under my feet. He added one Sir Thomas More and I was now standing flat-footed on the Good Book. Then he cranked the winch again until I was on tiptoe again.
"Oh, that's clever,"my wife said with an admiration I did not parcel at the mo.
He methodically repeated the cognitive process until I was on flat-footed atop two identical stacks of books, the tip of the dildo now between my legs. Gripping my hips with both hands, he pulled them back and up to squeeze that tip against to the entrance of my SOB. I tried to stay up on my very tiptoes but my efforts were futile as he firmly maneuvered my hips into the proper stance and pulled them down.
When the tip just entered my well-lubed whoreson, I gave an involuntary groan of pleasure and submission. Satisfied that it was properly aligned, he went to the winch and lowered the bar an in or so. Now I had to persist on tiptoe and hold myself up by my arms or accept more of the dildo. Instinctively I tried to resist but gradually I weakened and the head of the dildo spread me open. The ladies watched my struggle intently as the cinematographer closely documented everything.
My tormentor lowered the bar further and returned to stand in front of me. Bending down, he picked up each foot with one handwriting and removed one book from the batch below it. I whined as I felt the pressure of the ever-widening dildo stretching me and once again tried to agree myself up. After watching me with clinical withdrawal for a few moments, he used both hands to pull and pinch at my nipples, the discriminating annoyance making me heave. He kept this up until my endeavour to balk had failed and Thomas More of the dildo was buried in my ass. The winch turned again and he pulled another leger from beneath either foot. I was once again on my tiptoes, shaking with the attempt to stay on up, feeling the dildo go deeper as I weakened.
This sentence he decided to play with my cock, which had lost some of its rigidity. He tickled and stroked it until it was rock hard again and my feet were flat on the books. Methodically, he kept repeating the operation as I whined and squealed, elbow grease now dripping off of me, a yearn string of precum starting to form a lowly puddle on the floor. Feeling like I was going to be split wide of the mark open, I looked at the TV and saw that half the dildo, the widest half, was still visible below my stretched-out asshole. The cleaning woman watched, almost hypnotized by the spectacle, as I was impaled, my badgering increased by the man's teasing of my cock and balls.
I was a quivering, sweaty, whining, helpless mess as the last Christian Bible were slowly removed, my whoreson feast open more than I would sustain ever felt potential. Between that, the lingering pain of the whipping, and my throbbing tortured cock, I was completely lost in sensation and ready to top out.
I could now experience the cold brand of the pipe across my ass. The TV showed, in closeup detail, that I had the total foundation of peter buried between my red-striped buttocks. The man stroked my cock almost to orgasm two more time and then turned to nod at Linda.
"OK, the master comes first,"she said, getting up and taking the camera from the camera man.
Without a tidings, he went to his knees in front of the other man, zipped afford the soused bloomers and began sucking the massive cock that popped out. Despite my frazzled state I couldn't aid but be fascinated to follow a guy sucking another guy in person. The ladies, equally enthralled, had slid their hands into their pants and were now masturbating shamelessly.
After several minute of enthusiastic head by the cameraman, my tormentor grabbed his foreland in both hired man and groaned loudly. The cinematographer gagged as the cock in his mouth spurted against the back of his throat. Despite his obvious attempt to swallow, come was soon dripping from his mouth as the dominant man roughly fucked his face, his moan now mixed with the quieter sounds of some of the cleaning lady also orgasming. When the cock was finally removed from his rima oris, the cameraman grinned and licked his lips with an audible slap sound.
My teaser zipped up his pant and, with a final relish on my ass, left the room while the cameraman took his camera back from Linda, who headed to the bar with the other madam. I was wondering if they were just going to exit me like this and whined rather piteously. Linda seemed to find oneself the sound amusing as she poured shabu of Champagne for each of her guests. Sipping their champagne, they all strolled slowly back to me. With giggles and lewd comments, they inspected my abused, transfix dead body closely.
"His ass is so stretched out, look at that."
"Can't believe that all fit in there."
"The tip has got be like right there,"my wife said, tapping my breadbasket above my belly button.
"And his cock is still so intemperately. I can't believe he hasn't come yet.
"What do you mean would happen if we just left him like this ?"
"Now you scared him. seem at his eyes."
"He's still gruelling though."
Just when I began to trust that they really were going to just let me suffer, Linda took charge.
"job up, ladies. We going to take spell. Each person gets three strokes of his cock, then the next person has to wait 30 bit before taking their turn. metre yourself by the clock over there. Whoever makes him come wins tonight's door prize. As the host, I'll go last."
The others jostled briefly for military position with my wife in the presence and the cameraman taking position to record. I groaned with gratitude when she wrapped her hand around my desperately throbbing penis. She gave it three quick business firm accident and then removed her paw. While I moaned desperately, the bantam brunette waited her go, staring at the clock, which I couldn't see. Then she gave me three slow gentle stroking. Then it was the redhead's turn, followed by the busty blonde and then the skinny blonde.
I had thought my torment was finally at an end but I was wrong. Despite my now heroic need to arrive, three CVA just weren't enough and, frankly, the peeress seemed to be enjoying the wait of my release. Three firm stroking would get me right to the edge but the delay before the future three, especially if those were slow and gentle, was too much. After several one shot, I was a gasping, trembling mess, only held up by my wrist cuffs and the dildo buried in my ass.
After giving me three very retard gentle throw Linda finally said,"OK, now four strokes each."
This gain only added to my agony, as the Lady continued to flip-flop firm and gentle jolt of my prick. When several rounds of four CVA failed to get me off, the count was increased to five, which got me repeatedly closer to the bound but failed to take me over.
"Now six,"Linda said as my wife took her turn.
Six proved to be the deception number as, on the one-sixth fortuity, I shuddered and came. The instant I did my married woman rather treacherously let go of my turncock. Despite the lack of contact, however, long stocky squirt of cum jibe across the story as I rocked against the hammer in my ass and the ladies cheered enthusiastically. As my orgasm subsided, I felt faint and hung limply in my bond.
Since I was no longer entertaining, they wandered over to the bar and the cameraman left the elbow room. They took their metre finishing the Champagne, talking and laughing as if there wasn't a defenseless tied up guy and come in on the hardwood floor. When the party ended, Linda and my wife actually walked them all out, leaving me alone.
Surely my married woman won't just leave me like this all night, will she ?