Loading...Who was Betty & why did she think I was her prey?
Earlier that night a woman in glasses came down to my end of the bar to buy some smokes from the machine — I watched her out of the corner of my eye. I could tell she knew I was watching her because she studiedly refused to glance my way.
She was blond-haired, which did not impress me particularly, but she was also a tall woman and she was wearing glasses, both of which did. I liked her face – tasteful make-up, her features a nice mix of composure and intelligence. And although she was simply dressed in slacks and a loose sweater, I could tell she was exactly that kind of woman who I had no defense against — in her proud bearing and Poised female presence, she was large in all the right places.
I asked Wanda, the barmaid, who she was: “Oh, that’s Betty,” said Wanda, “She comes in for darts and pool occasionally … I don’t know her well but she seems to have her followers among the guys.” I wondered just what Wanda’s quickie portrait of Betty might mean — particularly intriguing to me was her use of the word “followers” — but when I turned back to look at this woman, she was nowhere to be seen. Gone. I nursed my drink, wondering at the magic of being so immediately tuned into someone who didn’t even acknowledge that I existed — I wanted so much to speak with this Betty, to find a way to declare to her my interest, although I knew her avoidance in acknowledging my gaze was no doubt her way of keeping me suspended in place. It was her control tactic for strange males, I decided, a way to hold my kind in abeyance until Betty decided on a further option. We’d yet to speak, had not even exchanged glances, yet already Betty was completely on top.
I came out of the mens room and our paths crossed — Betty was on her way into the adjoining ladies room. We were, for that brief instant, seemingly transfixed by each other, not knowing who would go first or even what our protocol would be — that classic scene where two people are facing each other and neither one of them makes the first move. Or so it at first seemed. I stared into her eyes and her return glance was direct and appraising, but noncommital. It dawned on me that I was mistaken, that Betty’s not making the first move was a deliberate choice she’d made. I should have known. She stared dead into my living eye as if to make sense of my being in her way.
“I am Ra’s Elf,” I stammered, “and you are … magnificent!” Clumsy and vulnerable, enthusiastic and wretched, I might as well have been but a schoolboy.
She stared at me and her eyes took in my posture and my bearing. Something very close to a smirk had come over her features. Yet I was thrilled to have this self-composed lady appraise me so forthrightly. Her eyes were cold, but keen and unapologetic. She stared at my physique and her eyes were bold, looking me up and down. I could not but help notice how her loose sweater clung to the fullness of her bosom … I was stunned when she took a deep breath, making her already marvelous bosoms rise … her nipples seemed to press outward against the cloth of her sweater and with difficulty I forced my gaze not to linger … and my vanity was at such a pitch I thought her deep breath had something to do with how solidly fit my own physique was — even though I was older, I liked to think my strength showed thru, that my daily fitness regimen had borne fruit. That I was more than just some vain man-child with a receding hairline …
“I’m Betty,” she said, “can I get by?” Her tone of voice was matter of fact, direct. She went around me as if I wasn’t there, but her generous bosoms brushed my arm ever so lightly as she passed – again, I was thrilled beyond reason.
Flushed and encouraged by so little, I reclaimed my stool at the bar and waited for Betty to come out. Glancing around the room, I could see no other lady even remotely as attractive as she — I was already under Betty’s power and I was so well aware of that fact that there might as well have been a sign on my back.
Had I been a wiser man, I would have taken immediate note of the fact that Betty did not reappear … as it was, I drank my beer and ordered another before it dawned on me that Betty was no longer there … somehow she had disappeared herself completely, left the premises like a whisp, a dream. Had she even been there at all?
This was a Thursday night, in fact it was the very Thursday night I was supposed to go back across the river to Secrets and meet up again with the powerful Marilyn … I waited a tad beyond what seemed like a reasonable amount of time, then I left and headed across the river, to that fabled club on the Ohio … Secrets!
Secrets was not crowded when I came in, typical for a weekday night, with only a few couples. I thought I might see Melannie, Secrets’ imperious and bawdy owner, but she was not there yet. I spotted Marilyn right away, however, seated halfway down the bar, her broad back turned my way. I walked up to her and stood behind her, gazing upon her expansive charms.
I did not hesitate this time, but bent close to her and exhaled my breath along the nape of her neck … the refreshing candor of Marilyn’s laughter was my reward, a tonic to my ears, and when she turned in my direction her grin was wide and welcoming.
“Ra’s Elf! my toy!” she exclaimed, and with that she immediately let both her hands roam up under my shirt and rise to my nipples … she pinched both simultaneously as she tugged me close and French kissed me forcefully, her tongue so deep in me I sucked upon it greedily. When she slowly moved her tongue in and out between my lips the sensation was that she was simultaneously teasing and taking advantage, toying with her toy, reasserting her utter and complete control … her pinching grew even more vigorous so that as I sucked at her deep tongue I also took in several sharp breaths, which made her laugh all the more as she broke away from the kiss.
She led me over to the side and we sat close at one of the tables back toward the unlit stage where the lighting of the bar was not so intrusive. Marilyn deftly unzipped me and pulled the elastic band of my briefs out and tucked the band down under my testicles as she had done once before … the maneuver made both my penis and balls rear out from my unzipped trousers, highlighted and available for whatever play she had in mind. “What an eager fellow,” she mocked, “and what a talented pair of lips.” Marilyn unbuttoned her blouse and it was clear to me where she next wanted my lips … her fingers closed upon my balls, toying with them as I sank into the enclosing depths of her warmly generous cleavage, licking between her breasts. I lifted her bra over her bosoms, freeing them — they were wide and heavy and soon my lips closed upon a thickened nipple, drawing it in. Her fingers on my balls grew ever more insistent and bold, squeezing them together and pulling them, and it was both painful and exquisite, so that my suckling itself grew more insistent … again I began those involuntary sharp intakes of breath and the air being drawn in across her nipple aroused Marilyn further and soon she had my cock firmly in hand, her expert grip closing with intimate intent around its head and tightening rhythmically so that my breath continued to come faster and faster as I moved alternately over to the second nipple.
Marilyn allowed her skirt to rise high along her thighs and as I moved back and forth from breast to breast I knew it was only a matter of time until Marilyn demanded even more intimate attention from my lips. My hand moved to her thighs and she parted them permissively. The flesh of her inner thighs was soft and warm as my touch moved firmly but gently toward her source. I soon perceived her nakedness as my hand rose. I felt the delicate touch of her most intimate fleece but then, even before I could touch the warm softness those hairs covered, Marilyn suddenly closed and tightened her thighs upon my hand. Although I had gotten far enough to discover Marilyn was not wearing panties, now my hand was held fast by the strength of her enclosing thighs. I felt her own hand go under my ball sac and pull the elastic band out and then she let it snap back against my cock and the snap was startling and briefly painful, causing my already aroused member to grow even more strained and swollen. Marilyn pulled my zipper up for me and, just that quick, my privates were once again tucked out of sight.
I lifted my head from her breasts. Then out of the corner of my eyes I saw Melannie enter Secrets and move along the length of the bar, greeting the women and teasing their men. I looked into Marilyn’s eyes and I knew she could see my desire and how much I wanted to please her. I slid off the chair onto my knees, my hand still held captive … Marilyn said nothing as she then pulled her bra down again around her bosoms, cupping them into place. She slowly re-buttoned her blouse in a strange reverse strip tease. I so longed to explore the intimate complexities of her pussy with my lips and tongue, and I could feel Marilyn reading my longing in my eyes and then she lifted her hips and reached down and pulled down her skirt.
“All right, Marilyn!” It was Melannie, suddenly standing close. Seeing my hand held between Marilyn’s thighs, she laughed: “Catch somebody trying to shoplift?”
I turned my head and tall Melannie’s loins were at my eye level … her light-colored slacks were skintight, so that the inviting cleft between the puffy lips of her sex was expressed clearly, only inches from my face, which reddened under cover of the dim lighting in that part of the bar. Humiliated by being held in place by Marilyn’s thighs, with my denied desire still throbbing away between my own legs, I glanced into Marilyn’s eyes and saw her smirking. She darted her gaze in a quick way at Melannie’s loins, then her eyes just as quickly returned to my own and it was clear what the powerful Marilyn wanted me to do.
With my hand still locked between Marilyn’s thighs I leaned over and let my nose rise along the expressed cleft of Melannie’s cunt-lips beneath her skintight slacks. As my lips came close to the fabric, Melannie pulled back…
“O you lovely, dear, gentle boy,” Melannie coo’d, “mustn’t slobber on Mommie’s new slacks!” And with that, Melannie slapped me -! Not a resounding slap, but with enough force to smart. And when I looked to Marilyn, she slapped me, too -! Marilyn’s slap was slightly harder, more proprietary somehow. And then the both of them started laughing, a mingled music of mockery and mutual delight, as if they were collaborators. Both of my cheeks were now red, and from more than mere blushing — part of me felt the sting but another part of me was fully complicit and willing. Abruptly, Marilyn released my hand from her muscular hold and stood up.
Still on my knees, I stared up at those two dominating women, but they weren’t paying any attention to me. They reached over me to embrace each other, and Melannie’s loins straddled my shoulder, and then Marilyn straddled my other shoulder, riding me in the same way, and as they hugged each other their pelvises ground against my pinned head, sandwiched on either side between them. I just could see out into the bar from where their grinding loins held me squashed in place and I wondered what a sight this all must make, but nobody was watching. Sometimes Secrets liked to watch, and other times, well, Secrets just looked totally the other way.
“Don’t you just love riding a pinned head?” Melannie laughed when they broke the embrace.
I had never thought of myself as such an absolute pinhead, but that is what I was in that moment, staring up … four large breasts overshadowed me, and up past those breasts were the mocking leers of my betters, staring down at me.
“I’d love to stay,” Marilyn said, and I dreaded what was coming, “but I have to be to work early in the morning. If you can still manage to get on your feet, Ra’s Elf, I’d appreciate you walking me to my car.”
When Marilyn bent to unlock her car door, I stared helplessly at the flair of her hips. “Stay on your feet,” she said over her shoulder, “and dream in humble adoration about what I’ll someday make you do for me … ” Again, she mocked me.
I stood on the street after Marilyn had pulled away, bereft and abandoned. When I walked back into Secrets it was because I was helpless, not because I wanted further excitement. The throbbing in my long-denied balls was growing noticeably more uncomfortable, almost painful. Helplessly I walked back to where we had been sitting and I again sat at that table, nursing my drink and staring blankly down. I put my hands up and cupped them around my lips and nose. There was no odor of female intimacy on my fingers, yet I felt my face pressed into the cup of my hands and it was as if I was pressed between Marilyn’s strong thighs and it was as if my face and my lips and my tongue were close to the source, the warm wet source, and a phantom odor actually came to me then, and that phantom odor was of Marilyn’s sex…
When I opened my eyes, lifting reluctantly from a dream that seemed to have been going on forever, Secrets was getting more crowded. I saw a man on his knees at the bar, his head between the legs of a woman sitting there — he had his own cock in his hand and was jacking himself off as he pressed his head deeper, and it seemed very odd that his woman would allow him to jack himself off that way, while he lapped her, and then I saw his juices start to spurt, and then an even stranger thing, for it became apparent that even more fluid was falling down from where he was mouthing the woman and then I knew that the woman was urinating into his mouth and that he was unable to swallow enough of it fast enough to prevent an overflow and that the overflow was raining down onto his spurting cock – all hell broke loose of a sudden when Melannie appeared and kicked the guy between his legs very hard and she spun the woman off her barstool — “Jackie, you fucking pig!” Melannie bellowed, “You don’t piss in men’s mouths in my joint, gotdamnit, and you don’t let them cum on my floor, gotdamnit, and for fucking GOT-damn sure, you don’t ever bring your nasty ass in here again!!” Melannie threw the woman out of the bar physically, and then she returned to where the man was curled in a pained ball on the floor and she commenced to kick him some more till he crawled bawling out the front door. Standing over the mess, her long legs spread and her heavy chest heaving, red-headed Melannie looked around the bar, a glare of combined contempt and satisfaction on her face.
I grabbed my glass and sucked in some beer, appalled and amazed at Melannie’s fury. I did not want to look at her and I tried to avert my eyes, but Melannie was in a high enough fury that when she looked my way I was unable to tear my eyes away from hers — “Ra’s Elf!” she bellowed, “Get over here!”
I scrambled over to Melannie — “Follow me!” she ordered.
Melannie led me to the utility closet, where a mop and bucket awaited — “Put a dab of PineSol in there and go mop up that mess,” she ordered.
With care and devotion, I swabbed up the cum and piss, and wheeled the foul bucket back to the utility closet.
“Give my boy Ra’s Elf a hand, people!” Melannie stood with her long, strong legs spread and her hands on her hips as the bar then gave me a small round of applause … “A drink for my new Swamper!” she called.
I sat back down at the table and sucked at the free drink Melannie had sent to me. I felt unclean and subservient, like a menial slave, and the feeling was delicious … for several long moments I concentrated my attention on the drink, which drink I not only didn’t want but surely didn’t need, but not even daring to look up from it nonetheless. My prick had resumed its attentive stretch inside my trousers — my willingness to be used, and to be of use, was high and urgent, but not so alarming that anyone would notice …
When I finally mustered the courage to look up at the bar, Melannie was standing at its end with her weight on her elbows and her generous hips arched out and back. I could see her large bosoms under her armpits, and the way her hips were stuck out took my breath away.
Melannie was talking to some female in an overcoat as I passed on my way to the john, a blond woman who didn’t glance my way. As I slid past Melannie, my eyes cast downwards with adoration to her hips, at the way they jutted out, almost blocking my passage. Melannie’s ass was generous, like her bosom, and I was spellbound.
Back in the men’s john, I stood before the mirror with my engorged member in my hand … unable to piss because I was so fixated on strong fantasies, I finally tucked my balls and cock back into my pants, still throbbing … when I walked back out, Melannie was still standing that way, with her big hips almost blocking my way. I stared down at them helplessly and wanted very much to just sink to my knees behind her … as I eased past, I looked at the face of the blond she was chatting with and was dumbstruck to discover that Melannie was talking to the woman I’d fallen for back across the river, the cold and imperious lady wearing glasses —
Betty!
Betty was staring at me as she had before, that look of appraisal that stabbed at my guts … she looked down my body and her gaze came to rest at my groin. I was both pleased and embarrassed with myself that I had remained aroused, my prick swelling against the restraints of my trousers. As I tried to ease past, Betty stepped directly into my path.
“Are you following me, Ra’s Elf?” Betty reached up with both hands and gripped my chest, her palms flat upon my nipples … “Are you?” Her hands were wide and very strong and she squeezed my chest muscles with inordinate power, making me wince … she pulled me close and her tongue was thick and deep in my mouth. Helplessly, I wrapped my lips around Betty’s thick tongue and suckled it greedily while her hands continued their forceful and exhilarating squeezing of my male breasts.
“You certainly know how to treat an older guy,” I managed. “This isn’t a treat,” Betty responded. “It’s a promise – you like to be hurt, don’t you, Ra’s Elf?” “I like,” I stammered, “whatever you like … ” “I like to hurt vigorous lechers who like to work out.” Betty’s grip grew even more painful, and I swelled my chest in response, letting the muscles push against Betty’s grip. I was near to swooning at the delicious pain.
“Do you like ass, Ra’s Elf? Would you do anything, anything at all, for the sake of my ass, you horny bastard?”
“I worship ass, Betty … I would worship your ass.”
“I know,” Betty smirked, “because worship is exactly what it will take … ” Betty dropped one of her hands, grabbing tight against my groin and turned away, leading me out of the bar. Her hand at my uncomfortably swollen cock was every bit as firm and painful and exquisite as it had been on my chest … the tears in my eyes as Betty pulled me forth from Secrets were as much in gratitude as they were in pain.
“You are a rotten bastard, Ra’s Elf,” Betty said as we emerged outside, “and I’m going to sit on you till you know your place. You’ll worship my ass, Ra’s Elf, and I will make you my slave!”
“Oh!” I gasped, “I … but yes! Please!” It was a plea I need not have uttered, for Betty was way ahead of me and in complete command.
Betty drove a late-model small red pick-up. Before she let me climb in, she bound my hands behind my back. It was only a ritual binding, for I was already entirely at her command.
“Do you go into Secrets often, Ra’s Elf?” Her voice was languid and almost uncaring, as if already knowing my answer … she’d lit a cigarette and the smoke curled thickly from her lips.
“No, not often,” I replied. I was not lying, but not volunteering the complete truth, either.
“So why were you there tonight? You do know that bar is a very special bar, don’t you?” Betty’s tone of voice maintained that semblance of disinterest, but something told me it was no longer the time for being coy.
“I was there to meet a woman,” I offered, my voice tight and guarded, “and yes, it is clear to me now how special a place Secrets really is … ”
“Did that woman tell you to meet her there, or was the meeting your idea?” There was a shift in Betty’s tone, so that I could tell the question meant something … although I knew Betty already knew the answers to her queries, I also knew she was gauging me, getting a sense for how alert and willing I was. She took a hard suck off her smoke, waiting for my answer.
“Yes, it was her idea — we had met there once before, and that time was her idea also … ”
“You like it when women tell you what to do, don’t you, Ra’s Elf?” Betty reached across to my lap, unzipping my trousers. In a move that was becoming very familiar to me, she reached in and pulled the elastic band of my briefs away from my belly and tucked it with deft skill under my balls. I sat helpless and exposed.
“My whole desire is to serve the wishes of the female who has found me,” I blurted, losing all sense of caution. I knew that Betty already knew more about me than I knew myself. I was ready to surrender every last trace of my presumed male pride — I felt a great sense of relief at having confessed my willingness, and I waited with bated breath to hear what Betty’s response would be. My loosed cock swelled in anticipation, bobbing eagerly.
Betty rewarded me by snapping my exposed balls with her fingers. Tears sprang to my eyes …
“I don’t care about your stiff prick, you bastard,” Betty spat, “I will fuck you, and I will beat you, and you are going to be a toy for me and my friends. Do you understand me?”
At once fearful but deeply thrilled, even eager, I felt the pain of her snap keenly as my cock commenced to lose its proud swagger. I realized that it was of no interest to Betty. Although my balls still stung from her snap, I knew the quick smart of that snap was but an introductory gesture, that Betty had other humiliations in mind. I lowered my head to my chest and closed my eyes and listened to the roar of her pick-up’s engine as we climbed the hill above Secrets.
“I am whatever you want me to be,” I murmured, from the bottom of my being, “and I pray only that the toy you turn me into gives you and your friends every pleasure … ”
“You’ll be on your knees, Ra’s Elf, but it won’t be for praying! And yes, you will give us every pleasure, indeed.”
We pulled into a driveway finally. “Welcome to Melannie’s Playhouse, Ra’s Elf … this place is famous in certain select circles. It’s where the Secrets gals bring their special toys, the ones that qualify for special attention.”
I followed Betty through the front door, my privates still stuck out from my unzipped trousers, forced outwards by the way the band of my briefs pulled upwards from under my balls. As I stepped through the doorway, something told me to be very cautious and respectful — I sank to my knees just inside the door, awaiting Betty’s whim.
In the dim light of the front room Betty dropped her overcoat and stepped out of her slacks, pulling her sweater over her head simultaneously. She was naked so fast my jaw dropped.
Betty crossed the room to another door, opened it, and reached inside to flick on the light. Through that door I could make out a mirror on the far wall. In the front room where I knelt I could see a series of large and well-executed drawings along the walls. They depicted scenes of worship, and humiliating male bondage. Betty turned and motioned for me to come to her.
On my knees I went to Betty. I stopped beneath her, staring up at her form — she was as magnificent as I remembered, yet naked she was more, much more. Her breasts were heavy but firm, rising out from her chest above me, their nipples dark and wide and erect. Her belly was not flat, nor was it fat — it was substantial and strong, the belly of a woman of appetite who yet controlled her appetites … her navel was deep and mysterious, inviting. Her pussy’s bush was very lushly overgrown, the blond curly fleece catching glints of light, but in their lower shadows I could see the alluring thickness of her mound, the deep crease between the lips. Tiny sparkles of light glistened there in her crease, and I knew she was wet with anticipation. Her thighs were very strong looking, thick and powerful. Athletic even. I shuddered at the thought of the power those thighs bespoke.
Out of nowhere came Betty’s strong hand, and her slap was both stronger than Melannie’s and more proprietary than Marilyn’s had been, and it made a sound that echo’d off the walls … my head and ears rang with the surprise of her action. Dizziness overwhelmed me. The shudder of surprise shook me to the soles of my feet. I waited for her to render another blow, but none came, and hot eager tears streamed down my face.
Without a word, Betty turned her hips to me and backed them toward my wet face. As extraordinary as her breasts, belly, pussy, and thighs had been, Betty’s buttocks were not the end but actually the beginnings and the continuance, wide and unblemished, the firm girth of each cheek smooth and full, the deep dark divide between them at once forbidding and irresistible — they were the promise of knowledge and the denial of mercy, they were everything that a sap such as myself could ever know or would even want to know. I craned my neck, lifting my face to meet them.
Betty’s buttocks engulfed me. I opened my mouth wide and extended my tongue fully into their engulfing surround. Her inner cheeks smelled of sexual heat and fundamental encouragement, and I pressed against their descent hungrily, lapping into her deep divide, seeking the tensed bud of her bottom’s promise. She arched her back so that her ass was all I could tell of all she proposed — I licked and sucked and tongued, and I felt her sphincter relax and take in my tongue’s probing tip. Her asshole nibbled on my tongue, taking it in, sucking me deeper …
As I worshipped Betty’s ass, someone was stripping my clothes off, but I was so intoxicated by tongue-fucking Betty’s butt that I did not pause while the stripping continued. My shoes and socks and trousers and briefs were gone and all I was wearing was a shirt when Betty finally pulled away. With my hands still bound behind me I watched Betty walk on deeper into the room, the cheeks of her ass rolling proudly. Then I felt cold metal against the flesh of my back and heard the taut bite as scissors cleaved the shirt off my back … with the exception of the binding at my wrists, I was now naked.
As Betty’s form grew smaller I could see into the room. It was a place of theatrical dimensions, with mirrors on every wall and also up on the ceiling. In the middle of the room the floor was recessed, and around along the edge of that recess several chairs were arranged. Betty waved for me to advance and I entered the room slowly, glancing up at the strange and compelling drawings as I went, still on my knees.
Entering the far room, I saw myself over in the mirror — one side of my face was reddened, and my flaccid cock slapped from side to side as I clumsily came forward.
In one of the chairs sat a familiar figure — Marilyn! She was wearing a loose robe that was spread open, and she sat with her arms outspread on each of the adjoining chairs. She was in a posture of waiting, and her face was turned past us, staring at something behind us … thru the mirror I could see three naked men there, their wrists and ankles outstretched and fastened to restraints on the wall.
An older woman came to sit, apparently the one who had stripped me, her immense buttocks spilling off to either side of the chair — she, too, was naked, and when she turned to stare at my unsturdy posture on my knees she showed no emotion at all. In her hand she held a remote control, which she lifted and pointed at the three naked men.
When I looked back at the three hanging guys I saw the most remarkable thing: one by one they began moving their hips and twisting and flexing their abdominals in a strange tortured mime of dancing, and then, in the weirdest sequence, their three soft cocks, one after the other, slowly lifted into full erections!
Marilyn broke into applause, as did Betty. “How droll!” Marilyn crowed delightedly.
“Those powerfully vibrating butt plugs, activated by remote, were Aunt Em’s idea,” Betty said. “Say hello to Aunt Em, Ra’s Elf.” I looked into the cold eyes of the older woman with the remote in her hand and told her that I was honored to meet her. In response, the tiniest glimmer of life flickered deep in her cold, distracted eyes.
“Aunt Em stays here, she’s kind of the caretaker, I suppose, but the care she takes will take your breath away. Aunt Em likes to see if she can find ways to keep our boy toys on their toes … finds new uses for them.”
It became evident that Auntie could increase the power of the butt plugs’ vibrations because the twisty gyrations of the imprisoned men grew more vigorous suddenly. Betty came up behind me and untied my hands. She held small shallow pan out to me: “Melannie told me about your swamper experience, Ra’s Elf … go over there now and catch their cum in this little foot pan for me.”
All three men were sweating profusely and breathing hard. Their writhing motions were so vigorous that the only way I was going to be able to catch their spurting cum in the pan was if I took hold of their cocks as they came. I had never held a man’s ejaculating cock in my hands before and the sensation was extraordinary, at once ghastly and fascinating, as one by one I aimed their helplessly emptying tools into the pan. Each of them groaned and gasped as their juices spasmed forth, impacting the shallow pan audibly … their orgasms were extraordinarily protracted and great amounts of cream shot forth, no doubt due to the extraprdomary revved power of the fiendish gizmos jammed up into their asses.
And then Auntie cut the power and all three men sagged in their traces, their pricks immediately drooping. Auntie Em came up and moved me aside, getting on her knees and cleaning the remains of cum from their softened cocks with her lips.
“Auntie gets all the spent leftovers … its something she likes and what the hell,” Betty sighed, as I returned to her and resumed my posture on my knees, the now full pan in my hands. “By the time the sun comes up, you’re going to be one of Aunt Em’s spent leftovers. But I should warn you — Auntie’s kind of picky … she kind of likes her leftovers still quivering on the plate, if you get my drift.”
I shuddered at Betty’s lurid suggestion, but, unaccountably, my own cock had already begun to rise … I glanced over at Auntie’s form where she continued lapping at the sad cocks of the men hanging there. I glanced at Marilyn and she too was watching Auntie. Marilyn’s hand was down between her thighs.
“Set the pan on the floor, Ra’s Elf.” Betty put a foot into the pan, spreading her toes. Her foot was sopping with cum when she removed it. “I need a good foot massage … ” With both hands on Betty’s cum-smeared foot, I kneaded her greased flesh carefully, staring up at her closed eyes.
After a spell, she lifted her foot higher, away from my hands, towards my face. I took her slippery toes into my mouth one by one … I ran my tongue slowly between them, then pressed the flat of my tongue all around the rest of her foot, thoroughly lapping the cream. All the while, my erection grew ever more aroused. When Betty lowered her now well-massaged and totally cleaned foot to the floor, I got to repeat the entire choreography with her other foot. I must admit, Betty had lovely feet. It was my great honor to give her pleasure in this humble, adorational manner. The cum residue of the three men was smeared on my hands and face as I remained upon my knees. I dropped my head and stared toward the floor, waiting. With eyes downcast, I stared down onto my neglected male pride, at how it bobbed up at me in low eagerness … as I looked at it, a slow wee dab of clear fluid emerged from its flared head.
Although Marilyn was older and heavier than Betty, she was still a totally magnificent figure of a woman, and it took my breath away to look up at her. She had come to replace Betty, who had taken a seat. Even Aunt Em was back in a chair now. The men still hung motionless, seemingly unconscious. The room was silent.
Marilyn’s dark wide nipples were rigid and erect above me as she dipped her foot into the pan. She wiggled her toes in my mouth as I sucked each one clean. And as I finished taking the last of the cum from between the toes of her second foot, I felt someone take hold of my buttocks, rolling them vigorously in a two-handed grip.
“I see you gals started without me!” barked Melannie. Her breasts spilled to either side of the back of my neck as she continued manually assaulting my ass-cheeks.
“Oh I’ve been looking forward to getting at these!” Her fingers spread my lowermost cheeks forcefully and then a thumb sank its way upinto my anus. I arched my back into her violation and she grabbed hold of my balls with her other hand.
“Well now,” she coo’d into my ear, “got some fat balls, don’t we?” Her grip on my sac tightened painfully as she jammed her thumb as high into my ass as it would go. I spread my knees on the floor as widely as I could and sank myself lower onto her invasive probing, and it made Melannie laugh.
“Those balls are gonna stay fat, Ra’s Elf, cause Momma’s gonna play ass games for awhile.” She yanked her thumb out of my butt and replaced it quickly with the head of a dildo … Marilyn had taken a chair with the others and now Melannie was using the dildo as a guide-prod to move me forward, down into the recessed area in the middle of the room. A low pommel was sitting in the center of the recess and Melannie steered me squarely onto it, bending me over it so that my ass, the dildo still in it, was spread high. Fat ol’ Aunt Em had come down into the recess to assist Melannie and it was Auntie who secured my ankles and wrists to the bottom sides of the pommel. Before Auntie climbed out of the pit she tied a chord tightly around the base of my cock and balls, preventing me from losing my erection but also preventing me from any ejaculations. My position was such that I could see back under the pommel, between my spread legs, to where Melannie stood in that familiar posture, her own legs spread and her hands on her hips … jutting out from Melannie’s loins was an enormous transparent strap-on, thick as my wrist.
Melannie had a long slender switch in one hand and she put it to immediate use, stinging my lower cheeks and exposed balls with a series of well-aimed snaps that caused me to cry out. “Gots to warm up the lockbox, buddy.” She then came to stand close to my wounded butt, lowering herself slightly and bringing the huge transparent dildo within range of my upside-down face.
“The more spit you get on my dick the easier it’ll go in you, old sport,” she urged, and I opened my mouth to receive the tool that would soon lay waste to my ass. As I sucked the big strap-on, Melannie commenced slapping my butt-cheeks with gusto, whacking away merrily, calling up to the gals in the chairs, “Don’t get too comfortable up there, girls — your turn’s coming!”
I groaned as Melannie entered me, and moaned as she began her strokes. She held me by my hips as she drove the monster deeper and deeper, filling me beyond my sense of my own capacity, and the pommel strained and creaked with the rhythm of her thrusts. I lost all sense of anything but Melannie’s pile-driving force, and my whole being seemed to merge with her motion. If I could have spread myself wider I would have … had I not been bound, I’d’ve welcomed Melannie’s assaultive forward strokes with backward thrusting strokes of my own … tears rained freely from my eyes and it was not possible to tell whether they were tears of outrage, or tears of gratitude. Lost to the reaming swing of the strap-on’s relentless to and fro, I was impaled and enslaved so willingly and wholeheartedly that when Melannie finally pulled the thing out of me and backed away, my core felt so abandoned that now my tears were most definitely those of one who had been cruelly rejected. I was morose and abject and the cool air upon my uncovered and wounded and now-gaping asshole came as a soothing kiss that I did not welcome. So that when Melannie started in again with the switch, I was glad. Instantly, outrageous pain replaced that kiss of cool air and I felt my anus resume its pucker in self-protective cowering. By force of will, I made my ass relax so that the searing hot pain of Melannie’s blows could penetrate deeper into my being.
“This guy’s one helluva prize — best ass in two states! Yeah, he’s hotter’n a furnace — almost makes me wish I had a real cock between my legs just to feel his hot ass burning clamping down on it! He’s fired up, girls! Who wants some?!!” They came at me again and again, Melannie, Betty, Marilyn, even old Aunt Em got a turn … and after what seemed like hours, Em unbound my ankles and wrists and I slid exhausted to the floor. My poor anus was so totally numb I hardly felt it when Em inserted the butt plug. She spread a soothing cream on my bruised and aching ass cheeks and then she took hold of the chord that tethered my cock and balls and she led me, now limping and bow-legged, up out of the recess.
I became the fourth man hung from restraints on the wall. When she took the chord off my privates, my prick immediately dropped into softness. My bruised balls hung low and fat from my belly as I sagged and hung in exhausted compliance and slipped helplessly into unconsciousness.
And I dreamed I was belly-dancing in my restraints, that my swollen cock was spurting with uncontrollable vigor and that there was a great and relentlessly churning turmoil deep in my bowels. Then I awakened and saw a naked man on his knees before me. He held my cock in his hand, and my cock was indeed spurting, aimed into the shallow pan held in his other hand! A round of applause echo’d through the room and I glanced up in alarm … a crowd of women had turned in our direction, a raucous, clapping coven of them, their large strong bodies naked in their chairs!