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He is such a good boy. Waiting. Patiently.
He looks fucking glorious, and he is glorious to fuck. Collar on, he kneels in the centre of the room. You arrive first as planned and we continue to adorn him with his accessories of submission. Ankle and wrist cuffs, his harness and for the time being a blindfold and a gag.
Our eyes meet as we stand either side of him and I’m compelled to touch you. The collusion in planning this for him has brought us closer together. I am delighted to find you are as wet as I am as my hand reaches under your skirt. My finger moves between your slick and inviting labia … and the doorbell goes!
One by one our guests begin to arrive, until we are at our final numbers. Ten women and one man.
We take our places, forming a circle around him, there is something sacrificial about the scene, and the phrase ‘like a lamb to the slaughter’, seems positively appropriate. As I step forward to remove his gag and blindfold, I can see his muscles tensing as he realises just how many women we have invited to enjoy him.
With a nod of my head, everyone steps forward, we close in on him as hands descend upon his skin. He knows he is not to move or make advances upon anyone without instruction, only you and I can present him with orders and no one can seek anything from him without presenting their wishes to us first. Yes he will be used, but he will also be protected.
His first task is to serve drinks and mingle, so those present can decide what they might want from the evening, as well as giving everyone a chance to relax get to know each other better. His behaviour is impeccable and I swell with pride knowing that the collar he wears around his neck is mine. Being able to share him and encourage others to indulge in him is an honour.
As flirtations increase, and it becomes clear that friskiness is becoming the main feeling in the room we invite our guests to remove some layers, and before I know it I am surrounded by visions of bare skin, lace, silk and Latex. Some of us remain in our heels, others wiggle their toes as the air hits them and there is at least one pair of adorable socks on show.
You are next on the list of things to do. Tugging on the d-rings of his harness to make your intentions known, as you settle down on one of the snuggle piles we’ve created, you direct his mouth to your cunt and he wastes no time beginning to administer pleasure. When your body begins to tremble and your hands turn to fists in his hair, you move away from him and I usher another woman into your seat. His eyes widen as he realises this might become a conveyor belt of oral sex. He shows no signs of worry though, he just licks, and sucks, his hands travelling across warm skin when permission is granted.
The moans of pleasure increase around the room, as women entwine with one another, and his fingers as well as tongue are called into action. With every moment that passes I can see him slipping deeper and deeper in subspace. His eyes shining, with that glazed look, his words muffled and low as his thoughts become increasingly more muddled. He looks to us for answers for every question he is asked.
As the latest woman to enjoy his attention spanks his bottom before wandering off to find herself some much needed hydration, I take the opportunity to take things to the next stage of our evening.
Part of our intricate planning involved every woman present bringing with her, or being provided with a strap-on to wear. Many of us willing to use them, some happy just to wear them. As I guide him to the piece of furniture we will be tying him too, his eyes dart around as each of us starts to step into, buckle up and stroke their strap-ons.
It is possible with the position he is in and the type of bondage bench we are using for him to both penetrate and be penetrated. As I stand between his spread thighs, you straddle his cock. As I watch him slide into you I feel like I could come from that image alone. Then he attempts to thrust, his movement hindered by the restraints. You lean forward and kiss him, and a moan escapes his mouth as you start to fuck him mercilessly. I finally stop perving over you both long enough to remember I should be doing something. With great satisfaction I draw a grumble from him as the lube feels cold against his arse, a grumble that turns to a groan of pleasure as I slide into him. We fall into an amazing rhythm, and my hands find your boobs and I as I peek around your torso I can see his eyes fixed on you as your movement brings him ever closer to climax. As we sense that moment looming, we both stop. He won’t come without permission, but taking him right to the edge, and then leaving him to fight his way back is most definitely part of our fun.
We takes turns in ushering women forward, his eyes fixed on them as they declare their intention to slide onto him or slide into him. He watches as new hands unwrap condoms, straining against his restraints when boobs and bums are aching to be grabbed. He does amazingly well as woman after woman fucks herself to climax with his cock, one decides she’d like to give him a blow job, while her new friend tries pegging for the first time. It is a joy to behold, and with unflinching honesty you whisper in my ear to ask if her blowjobs look better than yours. A few heads turn as I say louder than anticipated …
‘Remember; a flower does not think of competing with the flower next to it. It simply blooms’
You laugh at my choice of moments to be philosophical, but you still squeeze my hand gently in silent thanks.
Finally our guests leave and we all snuggle together under a blanket, and we place matching kisses upon his face. In a very soft, but alluring whisper, you mention how he still hasn’t come yet. His cock twitches and he waits with bated breath to see if we will indulge him. Luckily for him you’re a voyeur too, and it has been a long time since you saw us fuck. For the first time tonight he’s ordered to make me come, and I do, as my tongue tastes you and your own gushing orgasm flows onto my face. Still he’s thrusting, breathless and mindless, and I wonder why he still hasn’t come, and I can’t help but giggle as I realise my own mistake.
‘Come for us slave.’
He does, spectacularly and we all collapse in a sweaty, messy heap.
Tonight we sleep. Tomorrow we reminisce.
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