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I entered the house at 8 pm as instructed to find an empty foyer that was expensively decorated but dark and musty. Stairs curved up the wall and social rooms were situated to the left and right of me, but it felt like no one was in the building at all. Surprise made me start when a girl appeared at my right, and I laughed at myself when I saw how non-threatening she was. A petite blond in a fluffy white robe and matching slippers, her long hair tied back in a ponytail, and her scent that of flowers; she was actually a very pleasing sight. Her hands were folded in front of her as she politely asked me to disrobe and get down on all fours. She merely waited for me to comply when I stared at her. My clothes landed on a chair as I removed them. The girl vanished while I was turned around.
Several minutes later a door opened that had been concealed by the woodwork of the staircase. The same gorgeous blond walked from it, this time with her hair down and wearing a black cat suit that covered every part of her willowy body from the neck down. She minced over to me in complete silence, carrying a black strap-on harness with a black dildo fixed in it, which she held in front of my face.
I rolled my eyes at her affectation but obeyed her, and after a moment’s trouble with the Velcro it seemed that a six inch dick had sprung to life under the clingy material of her outfit. Girlishly slinky, she circled about me, grabbed my ass, bit down on her lower lip, and sank the cock inside me to the hilt.
“Ah!” The reaction was more for effect than a genuine expression of arousal. “Good beast!” she said, and put her knees on the ground behind mine. “Now you may remove it.”
“Oh, beast,” she sighed. “I hope you can follow so plain and simple an order as that.”
I swallowed nervously and leaned back so my outstretched arms could reach the straps situated nearly imperceptibly on her hips. She did nothing to aid my mobility, keeping the cock firmly buried in my ass. When the harness was undone she popped up gleefully and skipped over to my side, and I fell forward onto my hands.
“Well done!” she said, landing with a bounce.
I shook my head in disbelief, the straps spilling onto my calves from the artificial member that was still lodged in my asshole. This time she mounted me sidesaddle, facing the front door as though my rear end were the head of a horse. She took up the loose bands as a rider would reins.
“Giddy up!” she commanded. Obviously I was meant to crawl backward, which was not hard. The difficult part was trusting this unhinged young woman to steer me. Turn me she did though, and after a 180 degree change in direction, I was ridden by the girl to the secret passageway from which she’d emerged. It was at least in my favor that she weighed next to nothing.
As I traversed the hidden hallway on all fours, I watched the real world recede into nothing. The flickering candles on the walls moved past my shoulders, and into oblivion at the center of my vision. The girl said nothing, letting her pretty black feet drag along the floor of the corridor. She rode me out of the hall and into an interminable black space, so I could no longer know even after the fact where we were going. When the end of the tunnel looked like a yellow one-inch square, we moved into a large spot of light, and she dismounted. The girl plucked the strap-on from my butt and faced someone who was behind me.
“He is delivered,” she announced, arms outstretched in a bow. Still bent low, she stepped backward into the darkness, the harness dangling from her hand. As she disappeared so did the lights in the distant hallway, making etiler escort the void around me absolute. I then realized there could be, and more than likely were, any number of similar young ladies hovering in the nothingness around me, hidden by dark clothes like stagehands at a theatrical production. Almost in answer to my suspicion, four standing, full-length mirrors were wheeled by invisible hands to the edge of the illuminated circle, at the cardinal points of the compass. Then I heard the loud falls of wooden soles.
My only glimpse of her was what the mirrors presented. She had long, messy platinum hair and a cold, chiseled face. On her average-sized bosom she wore a purple bra. Under her skimpy matching shorts there was a garter belt that suspended thigh-high stockings of the same color, and up to her calves ran vinyl boots that were also coordinated. Her most notable feature was her physique, which gave the impression that she had been built to perform. An obvious product of intense training, her muscles padded a feminine shape that was not solid like Candy’s, but sculpted and well attended, a deliberately crafted masterpiece of dangerous functionality. Even the flesh-colored dick projecting eagerly from her crotch could not distract me in the moment I saw her from her thick, potent torso and limbs. Trying to swallow nervously, I found my mouth was too dry, and my throat clenched. In only a moment, she was fucking me.
Her first attack was made on her knees with her hands resting comfortably on my backside, and she sighed with pleasure as she broke me in. I could tell the massive waves of force generated by her round, diamond-hard ass and soft muscular thighs cost her no effort whatsoever, and that she was actually restraining herself then to keep from hurting me. Letting the pace quicken to a spirited clip, she clearly enjoyed how her thrusts set me rocking when they clashed with my struggles to stay upright. Gradually the strength contained in her rump revealed itself through rotations of increasing roughness. Moaning changed to grunting as her hands moved urgently to my hips and held me still. Then, they came away from me entirely to rest out at her sides as if the wings of a gliding bird, the pelvic assault continuing like well-oiled machinery below them. A moment later they were back on my waist. Relaxed and capable, there was no doubt in her. Instead, the adjustments of her posture were attempts to take the measure of my weaknesses, to find the approach that would be most effective so she could exploit it when she was ready.
“Look at that hair,” she cried at the glass, “the dildo, my whore, what hot boots, and such technique!”
My fear of what this might mean mingled in the darkness beyond the mirrors with the pale hungry faces of young women, monstrous shadows kept outside the spotlight like vampires repelled by a strong sunbeam. How many of them were real or projections of my imagination, I couldn’t say. It was however possible to make out on each of their cat suits a small black dildo of the type that had guided me to that bizarre place. The frail, watchful apparitions swayed in huddles patiently, awaiting some signal or opportunity, their mysterious behavior adding to my confusion. They echoed the woman who was having me by taking their time. Though I wanted to figure out their motivation, the rushing, intoxicating, and seductive influence of the siren plowing my rear made thinking about it impossible.
I felt her pushing down on my butt with both hands and transferring her right foot to the floor beside my right knee. The left boot took the opposite position. Greedily she was already etimesgut escort humping when her right hand settled onto my shoulder blade and her left one hitched itself to my neck. With her left side dominant, she pitched down and to the right decisively. Gyrations and vertical bouncing combined in one mercilessly executed technique that was mechanical, flawless, robust, and emphatic, all at once.
“God, those legs are cut. They’re like hydraulics, and all mine,” she observed.
Eventually I folded, my arms buckling and my trunk falling forward, with my ass remaining elevated. My heels waved feebly in the air above my bent knees. A flare of alarm rose in me when I considered that my endurance had not been depleted, but surrendered. Her response to my weakness was to press her hands on my ass again and straighten her athletic legs so that the cock was withdrawn and pointed down at me. This caused my posterior to sink closer to the floor. Remounting me, she suspended herself and stiffened without difficulty on the tips of her outstretched fingers and the toes of her boots. The cock was our only point of contact. Insistently she probed down into me with the calm that suggested limitless confidence, proclaiming her dominance with wet, meaty slaps. I replied to each jolt by shouting, “Oh!”
She sank in and wiggled as if rearranging my intestines. Then the knocking resumed with regularity, a slight bend appearing in her midsection with each upward movement. Watching herself in the mirrors, she was forceful and thorough, and admired the uniformity of her strokes.
“I’d forgotten how it feels to possess someone’s ass, and to come in it,” she growled.
Her bent legs overlapped mine and she planted her left hand on my spine below my neck. That heavy banging went on, a little faster than a beat per second. There was no vacillation or dip in her dynamic routine, and every lunge was perfect. I felt myself wishing not that it would never end, as I often had when being fucked, but that she would never stop wanting to use me. Ghost girls with shining eyes were growing restless at the edge of the light.
“Fuck me!” I begged. “Please!”
Three more thuds came and I heard her grunt. After smacking it home one more time she slid her legs between mine. Her hand returned to the floor. One forward push was followed by more downward prods.
Samantha help, I thought. My will was breaking, and I was finding it wonderful to be enslaved. Shifting poses again, she replaced her legs over mine and put both hands on my lower back. Her head bowed in unshakable concentration and her ass started working on me, reinforced by her strong, bulky back. Girls in the darkness opened their mouths like silently hissing cats, sensing that victory was imminent. The woman’s enthusiasm skyrocketed.
“Ah. Oh God, it’s so good. I can’t fight it,” I whined.
When she heard that, she laughed, exalting her might. Her thrusts significantly decreased in speed but maintained their shape. Then, with every advance of the shaft, a gush of warm, thick liquid spewed out of its hole and filled all of the available space in me. A total of nine gooey jets spent her charge from the dildo pump, squeezed by orgasmic contractions of her vaginal walls.
“Ah!” she exclaimed as she climaxed. She dismounted, and stood up. A kick to my side produced no reply from me. “He’s done,” she said, and the single light in the room was extinguished.
In the darkness, I learned they weren’t finished with me. The ruler had fed and what was left were the scraps. It began as a slithering, a shuffling, the tiny bursts of distant breaths. I heard limbs brushing etlik escort limbs, fabric scraping fabric, gasping, and a soft hum of satisfaction. There was an “Ah!” as gloved fingers caressed me and a wicked laugh as one skinny girl took my arm. Another grabbed my ankle and I felt a hand in my hair. Someone else’s hair fell into my sightless eyes. A tongue ran diagonally across my chest. My other two limbs were bound. All of them smelled of raspberries, or lilacs. When I struggled they swarmed like an octopus that wrapped its tentacles all over me. One of them was singing lightly, and another covered my mouth. Writhing proved useless, but it became involuntary. Moments passed when I wasn’t sure I was on the floor. Hands fondled my penis. Two of them tried tickling me.
Several of them were laughing, and I may have as well. I can’t say it was entirely unpleasant, but I was terrified and nauseous from being used by their queen. They felt me up and played with me for timeless moments in that abyss, never shirking from the perversion, nor having trouble negotiating the dark. Small, delicate hands explored all areas of my skin. Anger welled up in me that they could have their way so easily, and that I liked it. The cocks found my mouth and my ass one at a time after an aborted attempt to share holes, and each fired icing sugar onto me when their owners were convulsed by orgiastic ecstasy. Ropes of sweet girl cum flew like confetti in the black pit, soaking my head, neck, thighs, belly, and genitals. Pasted after every ragged sigh and moan, I grew to crave it. A festival of female ejaculation occurred amid screaming, crying, laughing, and much frantic jacking of dildos, so that I was plastered completely like a birthday cake. One girl angrily tore a hole in her leotard and tried to ride me. However long it lasted, I gained from it a new concept of exhaustion that erased the last of my identity.
“Enough!” a voice cried, and they were instantly solemn, and abandoned me. I blinked helplessly in the blackness. Presently, both I and the speaker were illuminated in separate spots.
My destroyer was standing on a raised platform fifteen feet in front of me. Her strap-on must have been taken off, because the black lace gown she wore flowed smoothly down her carriage to her feet. Those other articles she’d worn could faintly be made out through the material. The girls were gathered about her. She radiated joy.
“Tom, do you recognize me?”
“No,” I said. “We’ve never met.”
She laughed, and with her right hand tore off the great platinum wig and tossed it away in one gesture.
“Not even now? Look closely.”
I didn’t recall the stern, glowing face, then crowned by brown hair that was parted in the middle and tied back in a bun. She smirked down at me imperiously.
“Still, no? Think back to your days in elementary school. Remember what happened behind the shed, under the bleachers, and by the cafeteria door.”
It dawned on me that this was the leader of a pack of older girls who used to beat me up.
“Good,” she said. Some of the sisters bared their teeth, or looked at her. “It was obvious that even if you didn’t know me, I had molded the course of your life. Why, look at all the adventures you’re having!” Girls were tittering.
“What do you want, Kim, Kerry?”
“Karen. Say it.”
“Karen,” I said.
“I want what I’ve always sought, which is power, and now I have it over you, party boy. My ownership of you became final, here, tonight.”
“Give my regards to your witch friends, if you ever see them again. I’ll be in touch.”
The light lingered a moment on her and the girls, and went out. Another went on over a doorway that I hadn’t seen, to my left. I walked out of the spot that I occupied and trudged through the darkness to it. It led outside, where I found my clothes neatly folded on a trashcan lid. I put them on and as I went home it started to rain.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32