Each of them has their own individual kinks – Part 1

Image: Alesia Kozik, Pexels

I left the gym studio breathing hard and glistening with sweat.  It had been a tough workout but I felt good and ready for the day ahead.

I hurried to the showers.  My Master had mentioned he might have a little fun for us planned today so I was keen to get home to him.  The queue for the showers told me another class must have finished right before mine.  I glanced at my watch and decided to head home and shower there instead.

As I turned my key in the front door, I could hear my Master’s voice intertwining with the chatter and laughter of his friends.  I felt a little wave of disappointment; I knew they were coming over later but I had expected some fun together first.

I called out hello and continued, “I need to shower from the gym, then I’ll come in and say hi.”

My Master called back, “In here now please.”  A shiver passed through me.  It wasn’t his usual voice, it was very much full Dominant tone, not what he usually used in front on his mates.

Of course, I obeyed and entered the lounge where they were all sitting, my Master and five of his friends.  But it wasn’t his usual mates.  These men I did not recognise, yet all their eyes were fixed firmly on me.

“Hello little one,” my Master began.  “I have these special friends here today.  Each of them has their own individual kinks.”  He paused and laughed softly as he let his words sink in.

Then he continued.  “We will be chatting, maybe playing a little poker or watching some sport.  Please feel free to go about your day in the house, I know you have a few things you want to get done.”

I nodded, but his tone made me a little apprehensive.

“Just one other thing…,” he started.  “I do expect you to be naked throughout the day and to indulge the kinks of my friends if the need should arise.”  One or two of the other men giggled slightly at the innuendo.

I swallowed hard.  “But…,” I stammered, playing for time as my mind raced.

“Naked, now.”  His voice was firm and clear.  The words an order, not a discussion.

“But I’ve just been to the gym, I was about to shower.”

“Naked, now.”

I knew not to argue or protest further.  I took a deep breath, trying to steady the nervousness rising up inside me.

I rolled down my leggings and stepped out of them.  Then I peeled off my gym top, feeling a little self-conscious in just my thong and sports bra before all the watching eyes.

I paused for a moment.  My Master cleared his throat and I could sense he was urging me to continue.  I took hold of the zip clasp at the front of my sports bra and slowly dragged the clasp downward, gradually exposing my breasts.  Finally, I stepped out of my knickers – my body now fully naked and exposed before the group of men.

Yes, I felt apprehensive, but I could also feel myself becoming aroused.  My nipples were hardening, and I was becoming slick between my thighs.  Their words of delight at my naked body further fuelling my arousal.

“Good girl,” my Master soothed.  “So, you mentioned your lack of showering…?”

“Yes Sir.  There was a long queue at the gym so I intended to shower as soon as I got home.”

He smirked.  “What a predicament you now find yourself in.  I am sure you wish you had been a little more patient and waited for a shower.”

He and I both knew I had a habit of being rather impatient.  “Yes Sir,” I concurred.  “If I could just go and….”  He cut me off mid-sentence.  “Enough.  That is for us to decide.”  He looked around the group of men and then gestured to one.  “Would you care to come and decide?”

The man nodded and rose from his seat. 

“Legs apart, arms out level with your shoulders and remain still,” my Master instructed me.  I adopted the position and waited as the man approached and began to circle me inquisitively.  He paused in front of me and leaned forward.  He placed his tongue on my collar bone and then slowly licked upward from there to my ear. 

I never knew one lick could feel so sensual and erotic.  A deep moan escaped my lips.  “Horny little bitch,” I heard one of the men whisper.

The man shifted position and began to sniff at my armpit – one and then the other.  Then he licked me once again, along the underside of my breasts.  I knew I had sweated earlier and felt my humiliation rising.

He knelt before me and pressed his nose against my pussy, inhaling deeply.  Next, he lifted one finger and ran it between my pussy lips and then brought it to his mouth and licked it appraisingly.

As the man stood, he gestured that I may lower my arms.  He turned to the circle of men but focused on addressing my Master.  “I do find her to be very fragrant.  I can smell that she has exerted herself, but also that she is aroused.  She has a strong womanly scent.  Although I would argue it is not at all unappealing.  It just gives her a slightly more….”

I could sense him searching for the right word.

“…a slightly sluttier air about her.”  My cheeks flushed red at his description.

The men nodded and concurred.  “No need for you to shower then,” my Master proclaimed.

“So, I think we can all agree she looks rather gorgeous naked,” he continued.  The men agreed and one or two cheered softly.  “Although she would look more wonderful with a bright red bottom,” one chuckled.  “Absolutely,” another agreed.

“Well that we can do,” my Master laughed.  “Come here little one.”

I walked toward the chair he was sitting in.  First, he pulled me to him and whispered in my ear.  “Be assured that every man has been tested and is healthy for you to play with.  But they are also all fully aware of your safe word.  If you utter your word, they will stop immediately and fetch me.  We stop anytime you want to.  Is that clear?”  I looked up at him, “Yes Master.  Thank you, Master.”  He smiled and kissed my lips.

“Now, over my knee young lady.”  I giggled and wriggled into position across his lap.  He wrapped one arm around me reassuringly, just as he knows I like, while the other landed a couple of playful swats across my behind.  I played to the audience with deliberately exaggerated squeals.

In return, my Master slapped me more assertively, drawing more realistic squeals from me.  The spanks rained down across my bottom and the backs of my thighs.  I could feel my flesh starting to burn and knew it would be turning crimson.

Still his hand landed again and again on my flesh and I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my back arched and my bottom pushed out for him.  Until I could not help but cry out.

Finally, he stopped.  “A beautiful shade,” he observed.  He encouraged me up from his lap and to display my bottom to the onlookers.  They cooed with delight.

One man got up, he spoke quietly to my Master, who nodded in approval.  The man went to the kitchen and returned with a jug of water and a glass, poured one and offered it to me.  I was grateful and drank half.

“All of it,” Master commanded.  I finished and the man poured another.  “And that one.  We don’t want you getting dehydrated.”  I swallowed it down.

“So, you may now continue to get on with the things you want to do in the house,” Master addressed me.  “The men will come and see you as they wish.  You will oblige their desires.  If you orgasm, you will be punished,” he smiled wolfishly.  “Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“One other thing.  This is the delightful Tom,” he gestured to the man who had brought the jug and glass.  “Any time you need to urinate, you must seek permission from Tom first.”

Another wave of humiliation and a realisation that Tom’s provision of water had been rather less selfless.

“Yes, Sir.”  I repeated, a touch of petulance in my tone.  Master raised an eyebrow at me.  “Rudeness will also be punished young lady.  Let this be the only warning.”

“Yes, Sir,” I responded more appreciatively.

“Good.  You may go.”

I walked out and into the kitchen.  My head was buzzing with.  I wasn’t sure what I would do next.  I held onto the edge of the sink and just breathed for a moment.  Then, for want of anything else to do, and to keep myself busy, I tidied away my bits from breakfast earlier.

I heard someone approaching behind me and I turned quickly.  It was the man who had licked and sniffed me earlier.  The Stroker I nicknamed him in my head.  He stood in front of me and just ran his hands over my naked body.  Over the swell of my breasts, the curve of my waist, up and down my legs, and across the outside of my pussy lips.  Then he turned and walked out of the room again.

I felt slightly embarrassed, but my body was craving for more.  I wanted to be alone, yet I wanted to the next man to come and find me.

And very quickly the next did.  It was Tom.  He entered the room, filled a glass of water and handed it to me, the expectation clear.  He watched until the glass was empty.  I thanked him, despite not having wanted the water.  He nodded and left the room again, leaving me to ponder the bizarre nature of the interaction.

Shortly my thoughts were interrupted.  A relatively slim man, no taller than me, entered the room.  “You have the most gorgeous big breasts,” he exclaimed cheerfully.  I smiled.  “May I?” he enquired, proffering his hands towards me.  “Of course,” I responded, fully aware of my role.

He stood in front of me and cupped my breasts in his hands, feeling the weight of them and starting to gently squeeze at the flesh.  “So wonderfully full, just gorgeous.”

His fingers closed tightly around both nipples and he shook them up and down, watching my boobs undulate before him.  The tightness of his grip and the slight humiliation of his action drove my arousal and I could feel my pussy becoming wetter.

As he started to grope them more vigorously, I shifted position slightly and he paused.  “How terribly rude of me.  You must sit down,” and he gestured to the small sofa at the end of the kitchen.  I took a seat at one end, and he positioned himself, half laying across my lap, his mouth level with my breasts. 

“What a delicious sight,” he exhaled, and with that he closed his lips around my right nipple.  He sucked and sucked over and over, his mouth warm and stimulating on my sensitive flesh.  The sucking continued for longer than I had expected.  Eventually he paused and sighed blissfully before moving to my left nipple and repeating.

Suddenly he paused, his face a picture of excitement.  “I have an idea,” he announced.  “Close your eyes for me.  Keep them closed until I say.”

I felt a little apprehensive, but Mr Breasts seemed relatively harmless.  I did as he wished.  First he went to the fridge and poured something into a glass.  I chuckled silently to myself that I was not surprised he needed that after all the sucking.  He moved around the kitchen a little more and then I heard him walking back towards me.

He manoeuvred himself back into the same position.  I waited, wondering why the need for my closed eyes.  Suddenly a splash of cold wet liquid hit my breast, I squealed and my eyes automatically opened.  “Naughty,” he admonished with a grin.

I took in the sight of the milk he had poured onto me running down my breasts in rivers towards my nipple and his waiting mouth.  As the droplets starting to form on the tip his mouth latched back onto my nipple and he start to suck again.

His kink was laid bare for me to see as he trickled more milk over my breasts and suckled it from my nipples.  It felt a little perverse to me, but the naughtiness of it was heightening my stimulation.

He continued to pour and suck, occasionally switching between breasts, but repeatedly just sucking and sucking in an almost rhythmical fashion.  My nipples started to ache from the constancy of it.

Eventually the glass was empty, and Mr Breasts appeared sated.  He sighed softly as he finally released my nipple.  He almost rolled off my lap and languidly walked out of the room.

I felt naughty and horny, but I also rather needed to pee.  As if reading my mind Tom appeared in the doorway.  “More water?” he enquired.

I stood up and shook my head.

“Does someone need to pee?”

“Yes, Sir.”

A broad smile lit up his face. 

“Well let me just check that,” he smirked.

He came towards me and circled me ominously.

Standing behind me he placed one hand on my stomach, exactly across my bladder.  He pressed with his hand, feeling the outline of my bladder.  “Yes, it is rather full,” he enthused.

He reached his other hand around and from the top slid one finger between my pussy lips.  His finger extended slightly until he found the tiny opening of my urethra.  He almost tickled across it.  I have no idea what this told him but he proclaimed, “Yes, you do need to pee.”

The combined sensations of him applying pressure on my bladder and tickling across my urethra certainly increased the urgency of my need to pee.

“Lead the way to the bathroom, young lady.”

His body remained pressed against mine and his hands in the same positions as we clumsily walked together.  As we passed the living room, he stopped, pulling me to a stop with increased pressure on my bladder.  The other men looked up at us.  “Nothing to worry about,” Tom called to them.  “This young lady just needs to urinate, and I am making sure we get there without any accidents.”

The other men roared with laughter, and I felt my cheeks flame with embarrassment.

In our ungainly waddle we reached my spacious en-suite bathroom and I sat down on the toilet.  Tom shifted into position to one side behind me, both hands still in place. 

He increased the pressure on my bladder once more.  “Ask permission,” he instructed.

I bit back the response I wanted to make and instead said steadily, “Please may I pee Sir.”

“You may,” he replied, hands still in place.

I tried to relax my muscles, but it felt so wrong with his hands there.

“Don’t be shy!”.  One hand pressed again, the other rubbed, and my pee started to flow, running over his finger and into the toilet.  “Mmmmmmm….,” escaped from Tom’s mouth as he watched.

I finished and sat there waiting for my next instruction.  Tom seemed in no hurry to go anywhere, but finally removed his hands.  “You may wipe now and go, but place the tissue in the bin so I can admire this golden liquid a little longer.”

“Oh, and be a good girl and drink that bottle of water on the side before you leave this room.”  I silently cursed him but obeyed.  My brattish streak kicked in and I dropped the empty bottle on the floor before leaving the bathroom.

Read on for Part 2

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