Each of them has their own individual kinks – Part 2

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Read part 1 if you missed it

I strolled back to the kitchen which had seemed a suitable room for the dalliances so far.  I went through the motions of sorting out a few bits on the large table, while my mind whirred with thoughts of what might be to come.

I heard his voice before anything else.  “Keep your eyes forward, do not turn around to look at me.”  I swallowed hard and did as he instructed, enjoying the deep baritone of his authoritative voice.

“Lean forward so your upper body can rest on the table.  Legs apart a little more.”

I wanted to look and see who the sexy voice belonged to, but the Dominance in his tone obliged me to obey.

He moved across the room towards me and ran his hand over my pussy.  Then two of his fingers pushed inside me.

“What a good little whore you are.  Walking around naked in a houseful of strange men and I find your cunt soaking wet.”

He withdrew his fingers and wiped the juices off his fingers, smearing them across my back.

“Are you hungry for cock?”

“Yes Sir,” my pussy pulsing as I uttered my response.

“Arch your back more, push your bottom up, cunt towards me.”

The instruction spiked my arousal as I adjusted my position.

“Perfect.  Looking as needy as a dog in heat.”

His words repulsed me and drove me wild.

“No turning around.  Your role is just to take cock.  No orgasms.  Are we clear?”

“Yes Sir,” the neediness clear in my voice.

The head of his cock pressed against my opening.  His big hands gripped my hips and he started to push himself into me.  My hands gripped at the table as I realised how thick he was, forcing me to stretch to start to take him.  He tried to push deeper and hissed slightly at the tightness of my pussy.  A firm slap landed across my right arse cheek, his words, “Relax for me,” and my shriek of surprise merging as one.  One forceful thrust at that moment allowed him to fully enter me, my pussy stretched tight around him. 

Holding my hips firmly, he used long languid strokes, his cock moving almost fully out of me and then a hard thrust to fill me entirely again, balls deep inside me.  I cried out in pleasure and pain with each deep thrust.

He slapped my other buttock.  “Remember you may not cum.”

“I know,” I panted breathlessly, fighting to control my body’s urges.

He began to move faster.  One hand moving to my back, pinning me down as he fucked me harder and faster.  His moans becoming more animalistic.

I had to concentrate hard to ride the waves of pleasure and not allow them to crash over me and trigger my own release.  I could sense the tension building in him as he used my pussy over and over.  And then, as I felt the ultimate buck of his hips and him start to spurt inside me, he pulled out – half of his cum inside me, the other half he used to decorate my pussy lips.

His body relaxed as the tension left him.  I heard his breathing steady, and he patted my back affectionately and whispered, “Good girl.  Well done for not cumming.”  He wiped the remnants of cum from the tip of his cock across my arse cheeks.  “Now stay exactly as you are, no turning around.  Someone else will be here soon.”

I listened to his footsteps as he retreated, left inquisitive as to exactly which man it had been.  Noted in my head as Mr Faceless Fuck.  My pussy was so wet with my own nectar, but also coated with his cum and I could feel some of it dribbling from my opening.  It felt very naughty and incredibly erotic.

Just as promised, very shortly someone else entered the room.  “What a terrible mess that man has left you in,” he exclaimed.

He offered me his hand in a most gentlemanly manner, most at odds with the scene, and it made me smile.  “Let’s turn you over on this table.”  He helped me adjust my position, so I was laying on my back, my pussy close to the edge of the table, my knees spread and bent up, so my feet also rested on the table.

“He has left cum all over your sweet little pussy and even escaping from your delicate hole.  That will never do,” he admonished.  His words made me smile again.

And then he dipped his head and ran his tongue along the length of my pussy.

“We definitely need to get this mess cleaned up,” he thrilled and he brought his tongue to my opening and started to lap up the other man’s juices.

His hands moved to between my legs and he drew my pussy lips wider apart, fully exposing my clit to him.  He started to play with my most sensitive nub with his tongue.  My body arched and I cried out with pleasure.  His tongue working around it and across it and back and forth until my hips started to buck ominously.

Then he licked lower again, his tongue darting in and out of my hole.  My body was rocked with the glorious sensations he was causing, my mind heightening everything with the knowledge he was licking another man’s cum from me.

As his mouth closed around me clit again, I could start to feel I was losing my grip on my control.  The pleasure so intense and so exquisite.

“Oh, fuck.  No….,” I cried as I tried to contain myself.

But his tongue on my clit and the eroticism of the act were too much for me and I screamed as a huge orgasm ripped through my body.

Mr Wonderful Tongue paused as my body bucked and shook.  Finally, I stilled, and I opened my eyes.  There, next to Mr Wonderful Tongue, stood my Master with a stern look upon his face.

“You appear to have just orgasmed, young lady.  Is that correct?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Did you have permission to orgasm?”

“No Sir.”

“But you chose to do so anyway?”

“I didn’t mean….,” I began, but he cut me off.

“I do not wish to hear pitiful excuses.  What did I say would happen if you orgasmed?”

I paused and steadied my breathing.  “I will be punished.”

“Correct, young lady.  You clearly do pay attention to some of the things I say.”

He glared at me.

“Get up off that table and join myself and the other men in the dining room immediately.”

I hopped off the table and as I righted myself, I felt my juices start to run down my inner thighs after my recent orgasm.  I had no time to wipe them but quickly followed my Master.

As we entered all the men were present and all eyes were firmly on me.  Tom once again appeared with a large glass of water.  I wanted to slap it away, but one raised eyebrow from Sir told me this was not the time to argue, and I downed it silently.

“Please explain to the room what has happened,” Master instructed.

I felt my cheeks flush red and I looked down at the ground.  “I orgasmed without permission.”

My words were met with exclamations of mock horror from the assembled crowd.

“And the implication of that is?” Master prompted.

“As a result of orgasming without permission I will be punished,” I pushed my shoulders back as I spoke, standing with more confidence that I felt.

The audience gasped theatrically.

My Master picked up the crop and tapped it against the opposite palm.  “The question is what that punishment should be?” he mused.  He took his time.

I hated the waiting, and he knew it.  The horrible apprehensive suspense building inside me, sensitising my body further.

“I think her nipples may be a little sore already,” called out Mr Breasts.  Master’s face lit up.  “Well, that is very helpful to know.”  He was correct – they felt sensitive and achy from all the earlier sucking.

“You will stand completely still, young lady,” Master warned.  “Five smacks on each breast should suffice I think.”

I nodded fearfully.

He brought the crop down hard across my right breast.  I bit back a squeal and stood rigid.  “One.”

One left and one right, one left and one right landed smacks two, three, four and five.

Six landed directly on my left nipple and I could not hold back the yelp as it stung my sensitive flesh.

He repeated on the right nipple, and I cried out again as the pain built.  “Seven.”

 Swats landed again on each nipple, harder this time.  The pain started to burn on my skin.  “Eight and nine.”

He raised the crop once more and I could not help but wrap my arms across my breasts.  “Please,” I whimpered.

“Do the men need to hold your arms down?”

I shook my head and removed my arms.  A final hard slap of the crop landed on my left nipple, and I hissed with the pain.  “Ten.”

I breathed out slowly.

“Now we just need to pop the clamps on.”

“No,” I gasped.

“Yes,” he said firmly.  “Present yourself.”

I dreaded the pain, but my body also yearned for it, knew the heightening effect of it.  I pushed my shoulders back and thrust my chest forward for my Master.

He took my left breast in his hand and used the other hand to open the clamp.  He held the lever open and positioned it around my nipple.  I breathed anxiously.  He paused and then quickly released.  The metal clamping down on the tender nipple.  I yelped once again.

Master laughed softly and cupped my other breast, repeating the process.  I cried out as he released it, tears dripping from my eyes as the pain bit in.

“Oh look, she’s crying,” observed a deep voice, immediately revealing a tall dark man to be Mr Faceless Fuck.  “May I cheer her up a little?”

Master chuckled.  “Be my guest.”

Mr Faceless Fuck smirked.  “Spread your legs,” he instructed.  I did so and he appeared before me with a Hitachi wand.  He reached between my legs and pulled my pussy lips apart, nestling the head of the wand between them.  With the press of a button, the wand buzzed to life and a million little sensations rippled against my clit.

“Does that make you feel a little better?” Mr Faceless Fuck enquired.

I nodded, the sensations a pleasant distraction from the ache in my nipples.  He held it there, letting the throngs of pleasure run through me.

“Good,” he breathed, and he pressed it a little more firmly against me and turned the vibrations up a notch.

The intensity drove my arousal, my juices started to flow and I could feel my legs starting to tremble.

He turned it up again, the vibrations starting to drive me wild.  I tried to pull away from the source of the vibrations but his arm quickly looped around my waist, holding me in place as he pushed the wand harder against me.

“No,” I cried, starting to struggle.

“Oh yes,” he retorted and turned it up once again.

“No, no, no…”

The ripples of pleasure started to overwhelm me.  I was crying out in frustration, in reluctance but also in blissful ecstasy.  I was heading straight for another orgasm, and I couldn’t do anything to prevent it.

One more button press, and the head of the wand vibrated furiously, pressed tight against my clit.  I had nowhere to go, no escape and the crescendo of my climax tore through me.  I came hard.  My body bucking and shaking.

As my orgasm passed, I expected him to stop.  “Think we can get another out of her,” he called to the onlookers.  They chuckled and heckled.

He gave me no respite, keeping the toy firmly against me on full power.  The relentless vibrations driving me back to the same state.  My orgasm building almost painfully, so quickly after the first.  Taking me immediately back to that precipice.  And I fell straight over it.  My body tensing for a final moment before shattering into a delirium of erotic sensations and I screamed as it overwhelmed me, and my juices squirted vigorously before the watching crowd.

My legs started to give way and Mr Faceless Fuck held me up as I recovered my composure.

“What lesson was your first punishment intended to teach you?” Master enquired.

I felt almost in a daze as I replied.  “That I must not cum without permission.”

“Well, that lesson obviously failed somewhat,” Master began.  He nodded to Mr Faceless Fucker, “Lay her down on the table please.”  I offered no resistance as he picked me up, despite the impending punishment.

The rest of the men gathered around the table.  “We shall repeat the previous punishment plus five on your clit.”

Through the fog, my brain computed what he had just said.  Knew how painful it would be as the clamps came off, knew my nipples were already so sore, knew how I hated the crop against my clit.  I moved to wrap my arms around myself and to close my legs, but eager hands got there first, various men pinning my limbs down.

Master removed the first clamp.  The blood surged back in a roar of pain and the swats of the crop began – five directly on my right nipple.  I cried out, I writhed on the table, I tried to pull away from the gripping hands, but the swats just rained down, each one intensifying the agony.

My head lolled as the second clamp came off and the torture continued.  My flesh burning through the storm of my punishment.

Then the hands were pulling my legs wider, my pussy lips parting, my most sensitive part exposed before Master’s crop.  The first slap landed and my body jerked and jolted.  It was so swollen, so aroused from all the pleasuring.  The second swat even more painful than the first.  As the third landed, I screamed and I knew Master could sense I had learned my lesson.  “I think three will suffice for now.”  He paused.  “But if your sluttish ways continue, the remaining two will be added to the next punishment.  Are we clear?”

“Yes Sir.  Sorry Sir.  Thank you, Sir,” I muttered.

Tom appeared with another large glass of water and helped me sit up and drink it.  For once I was grateful. 

Slowly the men dispersed from the room until only one remained, The Stroker.  I went to sit back up, but he shook his head.  “Stay where you are little one.”

I lay on the table.  My body ached in so many ways.  I felt unsure as to how I would manage to satisfy whatever this man’s perversions would be.

Read on for the third and final part

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