Note: Although this is a sequel, it also works well on its own. Also, while the first story was 100% straight, this sequel is definitely not!
“You remember it’s my birthday in three weeks, don’t you?” Ayumi my Japanese girlfriend asked over dinner. It was my turn to cook so we were eating lasagne.
“Of course,” I replied between mouthfuls. How could I forget when I’d spent the last month planning a surprise trip to Paris for her over that bank holiday weekend and keeping it a secret? I had to make her birthday extra special this year after the treat she had given me four months previously on mine.
Girlfriends are generally happy to fulfil a few of their boyfriend’s sexual fantasies, but most would probably steer clear of the more unusual fetishes, and get offended at even the idea of another person getting involved. Not Ayumi. Her apparently limitless appetite for exploring my sexuality (and hers) had not only led her to agree to an “open” relationship within two weeks of us getting together so as to watch me with other guys. For my last birthday she had put on her old school uniform, invited dozens of men to our house, and in front of me and the video camera she had let them fuck and , arse and mouth. As if this wasn’t enough, she had asked them to each donate some sperm to a collective bowl, which she warmed up and poured over herself, finishing with a large amount of custard.
Obviously, this gangbang topped with bukkake (Japanese sperm play) and WAM (wet and messy) fetishes, all fantasies I had long obsessed with, was incredibly hot, and I must have watched the video over and over 30 times or more since. However, it did make me feel more than a little guilty. Admittedly, I had not asked or even suggested that she do it, she seemed to have come up with the idea on her own, possibly inspired by my porn collection. And she had seemed to enjoy it and insisted to me afterwards that she had loved it.
Yet I couldn’t help feeling that it must have been humiliating for her, having so many guys, some more than twice her 18 years in age, and most people that she saw regular at university, fuck her and watch her being fucked. I was amazed that she didn’t seem at all embarrassed to continue seeing them around in the months afterwards, when surely everyone on her course must now know her as the “gangbang girl” – I know I felt people looking at me differently as her boyfriend.
This feeling of guilt was compounded by the fact that she had to take the next few days off as after having so many cocks in quick succession inside them, her pussy and arse were so sore she could barely walk. It took another six weeks before she’d recovered enough for us to have sex again, and her insistence during this time on making up for it by sucking me off every time I was hard made me feel even worse. All I could do to give her sexual pleasure was use some ice on her sore areas and in my mouth while I gave oral sex, but it seemed poor compensation to me.
So, in short, there was no way I could forget that it was her birthday coming up.
“Good,” she replied, her gorgeous oriental eyes meeting mine across the meal as she took another mouthful. The corner of her mouth was twitching, as if she wanted to laugh but was trying to stop herself. She swallowed and continued. “Keep the weekend after free, please.”
“The weekend after? Why?” I asked, puzzled.
“Oh, I might want to do something,” she said, vaguely, her eyes on her plate again.
“OK, I’ll keep it free.” I was intrigued, but as it was clear she didn’t want to tell, I didn’t push it.
I completely forgot about her request over the next few weeks, busy and nervous as I was with keeping her surprise trip a secret whilst not appearing to have been lazy about her birthday and negotiating with her friends and family to make sure they didn’t arrange anything. Then there was the shopping for and hiding of the physical presents of a necklace and chocolate. In the end though, the Paris trip was a beautiful success, a wonderful, romantic three days with just the two of us. Maybe I will write about it someday in a separate story – or maybe not, the most romantic moments a perhaps best kept private.
Anyway, I still didn’t remember her request when we returned, so it was only luck when the weekend arrived and nothing had come up. Saturday also passed uneventfully, so it wasn’t until just before sunrise on Sunday that I was reminded by Ayumi whispering in my ear.
“Darling,” she whispered to wake me. We both liked old-fashioned ways of addressing each other. “Darling, your presents were fantastic, but I want one more.”
“Hmm?” I replied half-asleep, yawning. “Oh, yes my love, of course, anything. But the shops won’t be open yet…”
“I don’t need you to buy anything. I just want you to … be my slave. Just today, from sunrise to sunset.”
“Your slave?” Now I was waking up. This was not one of my fantasies; this was one of hers, I could see in the twinkling of her eyes, though she’d never told me.
“Yes, my slave. I want you to do everything that I say, all day, whatever it is.”
“Um, OK Ayumi, anything you want.”
Domination and submission were not fetishes I had explored much, even in my mind. But, I thought, I definitely owe her this. And anyway, it was Ayumi, my gorgeous, petite, long black haired, Japanese girlfriend who I loved. How bad could it be?
“Well, I think the sun is up now,” she said, grinning mischievously. “So get up, and run me a bath, then go around the house and open all the curtains. No!” She stopped me as I reached automatically for my underpants since I was to open the curtains. “I didn’t say get dressed.”
“Oh. Yes, Ayumi.”
“And you will call me ‘mistress’ today.”
“Er, yes mistress.”
Obediently I went to the bathroom and started the water, then walked around the house totally naked opening all the curtains. I was thankful that it was so early no one seemed to be about outside, but getting a tingle of excitement at the risk all the same. Returning upstairs I found Ayumi in her bathrobe waiting for me in the doorway and giving me precise instructions on which bubble bath and essential oils to add to the filling bathtub. Finally, my bladder could stand no more and I said I needed to pee.
“Then ask permission, Jack,” came the smirking reply.
“Please Mistress,” I begged, shocked and slightly scared by how readily my usually demure girlfriend had stepped into the dominatrix role. “Please may I go to the toilet?”
“Oh, alright,” she said after a pause, giving me a few seconds to worry that maybe she wanted to jump straight to what some euphemistically refer to as watersports, which I wasn’t quite ready for, certainly not at that time of the morning.
When I’d finished, the bath was ready, so I opened the door again and Ayumi stepped in, allowing me to take off her robe with an almost royal air. She stepped into the tub and lay back with a sigh, her smooth white skin disappearing beneath the foam. I stood quietly, shivering a little from the cold tiles, until she instructed me to kneel beside her and bathe her.
Picking up a sponge I gently scrubbed her body beginning with her arms, taking each in turn, then around her face and neck. Down her slender back went my hands and up her flat stomach to her breasts, those wonderful C-cups glistening with soap and bubbles that I was sorely tempted to linger on until she slapped me. I went to her feet next, lifting each leg right out to run the sponge around it, using my hand to run through the patch of trimmed pubic hair above and around her pussy. I was not even able to linger here as she slid smoothly on to her front to let me wash her firm round buttocks that she pushed up out of the water.
Her body done, it was the turn of her hair. A bowl she must have placed there before rested on the side ready for me to scoop water up and over her head, running my hands through her thick, silky Asian hair that hung down past her shoulders. I washed it with shampoo, massaging her scalp, rinsed it, and then put conditioner in, nudged along by her orders. Before she let me rinse the conditioner off though, she sat back and lifted one leg up to rest on the far edge of the tub.
“Pleasure me slave,” she said. “Give me my morning orgasm.”
Happy to oblige, I plunged one hand into the foam and began stroking her thigh, smooth from waxing and slick with the bubble bath. Once more I ran my fingers through the short black hair of her crotch, taking my time this time, and then ran two of them down either side of her pussy lips. It felt different underwater, but her closed eyes and sighs told me it still worked.
As usual, once I started sliding my fingers inside her, I became aroused and reached down with my free hand to touch myself. Apparently Ayumi’s eyes were only half-closed though, for I was quickly told off and ordered to use my free hand on her soapy tits. So slowly, my cock itching for attention, I attended to my mistress, until moaning, gasping and throbbing in the hot flesh around my fingers told me she had cum. I was learning though, as I didn’t withdraw from her until explicitly told to do so.
Bathed and dried, Ayumi ordered me downstairs to cook her breakfast (I was to only have plain toast and water) while she got dressed. When she came down my jaw dropped even more than it normally did when I saw her: somewhere she had bought a full pale-pink vinyl outfit of corset, mini-skirt and thigh-high stiletto boots. To complete the bubblegum dominatrix look she had tied her hair up high behind and to one side of her head, and wore earrings, though she hadn’t yet put on make-up.
Of course, I was made to eat on the floor, and had to do all the dishes from breakfast and the previous evening before I was allowed to brush my teeth. She settled on the couch to watch TV whilst I, still nude, was sent around the house tidying and cleaning for an hour. Then the doorbell rang.
“Answer it then, slave!” she yelled.
Nervous, embarrassed, and still bollock naked, I opened the door, doing my best to hide on the other side of it. It was only a minor relief to meet the giggling faces of six of Ayumi’s friends standing on the other side. I knew that most of them were aware of my bisexuality and the agreement I had with Ayumi about sleeping with others, but I had avoided even considering getting intimate with any of them because, well, they were her friends.
“Oh, you agreed!” Shrieked Chisato, also Japanese though with short cropped hair and the shortest (and fattest) of the group who pushed past laughing, not letting me shut the door as quickly as I wished.
“I told you he would,” said Kea, a local Birmingham girl from Ayumi’s university course, of Afro-Caribbean decent and very tall, at least two inches taller than me.
“How did you do it?” asked Arifa, another local girl in this case with family from Pakistan, with very pretty eyes, small breasts and I presumed long black hair though it was always hidden under her headscarf.
“I just asked him,” Ayumi said smugly.
I stood bright red in the circle of my girlfriend’s friends giggling and pointing at me. As well as the three who had spoken, there was also Miho, another Japanese girl who I’d always thought was very shy behind her thick rimmed, rectangular glasses and bleached ginger hair with its permed bushiness and straight fringe, but now was the first to gleefully slap my bottom; Claire was quite a posh brunette with a big, hooked, though not unattractive nose, her hair long and sweeping across her face to almost cover one eye, and ; and Nicola, a skinny, freckled, ginger haired girl who was the one I got on best with.
“Well, shall get him ready then?” Suggested Nicola after a minute that seemed like an hour.
“Oh yes, let’s!” Agreed Miho excitedly, so I was led upstairs to the bathroom.
“We need to trim him first,” Kea said.
“Yes, OK.” Ayumi turned to me. “Slave, stand in the bath.”
I did so, and then yelled as Claire directed a cold jet of water at me: a slave was not allowed the luxury of a warm shower. Wet and shivering, I did my best to hold still as Ayumi worked her way over my body armed first with scissors to trim the longer hairs, and then soap and a razor, cutting everything down to a length they all deemed satisfactory for whatever their evil plan was.
The plan, which I was started to guess at, was revealed once I was rinsed and made to lie on a towel on my front. Something sticky was spread on my leg but I wasn’t allowed to peek. They waited a moment and then:
“Aaaargh!” Even though I’d guessed it I still yelled as the wax strip was yanked off, shocking me more than hurting as such, but causing another fit of giggles. I was less vocal for the rest of it, submitting meekly as all hair was ripped from my body, though I was very nervous when it came to my more private regions. I was relieved that here it was Ayumi and Nicola in charge, as I trusted them to be gentler than the others. It still stung though.
Thankfully they decided to shave rather than wax my face, and then I was made to stand in the bath once more and endure another, longer and more thorough cold shower. Finally I was allowed to dry, feeling numb all over from the cold and the waxing.
“You don’t know what’s waiting for you, do you slave?” Taunted Chisato.
I shook my head.
“Can I give him a clue?” she begged of the others, turning to Ayumi.
“Go on,” my mistress said.
“You have been a very, very bad girl, and you’re going to be punished by everyone who knows how bad you’ve been.”
The girl part I could guess from the full body wax, but who was everyone who knew how bad I’d been? The seven girls here? I puzzled over it in my mind while they busied themselves confirming my guess. My cock was taped firmly to one side of the top of my thigh. My hair was styled to look more feminine in a pixie-ish sort of way. And somehow they’d even managed to get hold of a couple of realistic “breastforms” – the fake breasts used by transsexuals and cross-dressers – which were attached to my chest with a special glue for skin.
“Is he ready?” Arifa asked from the door when she reappeared with a bag she’d left downstairs. Seeing that I was she pulled out some knickers. “Put them on.”
I held them up. They were pale pink with yellow teddies on at the front. Cute, I thought, are they hers? I pulled them on.
“Ooh very nice!” Everyone laughed, and I was made to put on a bra, some white socks, and then the rest of what turned out to be the local school uniform: a white blouse, dark green pleated skirt, green and yellow tie, and even some black shoes in my size. They must have been plotting this for months I thought.
“Right slave,” said Ayumi when they had touched me up with make-up and were all satisfied with how I looked. “You wait on the stairs while we get changed. No peeking!”
The girls disappeared into our bedroom, and for half an hour or more I sat and listened to muffled chatter and laughter. It was worth the wait though: when they came out they were all in different coloured skin tight vinyl or leather, mini-skirts, hot pants or, in Kea’s case, a cat suit, and most of them in high heels. Claire had gone for purple hot pants and a jacket; Kea was all in black; Chisato had chosen white hot pants and a halter top that gave her large size an even deeper than usual cleavage; Miho had a bright blue mini-dress; Nicola had complemented her orange hair with a collared green mini-dress that zipped all the way up; and oddest of all was to see Arifa in a bright yellow, shiny headscarf with matching tube top and miniskirt, confirming once and for all in my mind that she was not religious and only wore the scarf as a fashion and identity accessory. They were all very hot!
But then I saw their faces and got a momentary shock. Every one of them wore a mask covering the top half of their face. Some were just simple and black, others had gone for glitter and sequins, but if I didn’t already know who they were I wouldn’t have recognised any of them. The riding crop each of them held completed the scary look.
“Go down then slave,” ordered Ayumi’s voice from behind a pink mask with cat ears. “We have work to do!”
I scampered down the stairs. They stood around me grinning spookily from under their masks, and then two who I guessed were Chisato and Miho stepped forward with a short rope.
“Put your hands behind your back,” Miho said, and I put them behind my arse. “No, higher,” came the instruction, so I raised them, each hand on the opposite elbow.
“Here, I’ll do it,” said Chisato impatiently. I gasped as she yanked my hands up to between my shoulder blades, an uncomfortable position to begin with, but I was going to be tied this way? I had promised though…
While my hands were being tied, a big sheet of plastic was being laid out on the floor and the coffee placed in the middle. I had just seen this out of the corner of my eye when the world went black: I’d been blindfolded.
“Open wide,” Kea said, and the next moment I felt a plastic ball being jammed into my mouth. A strap tightened behind my head and I realised it was a ball gag with holes to let me breathe.
“For now your name is Lisa,” Ayumi whispered in my ear as she led me by the hand until I could hear the rustle of plastic beneath my feet.
“Start the camera,” Ayumi’s voice said from further back. They were filming this? Of course they were.
Thwack! The gag muffled my yell at the sting of a riding crop on the back of my knees.
“Kneel bitch!” Was that really Ayumi? I knelt immediately.
“Are you Lisa Watson?” I nodded.
“And did you fuck my boyfriend? Answer!” I flinched as the riding crop came down on my arms and nodded.
“You dirty whore! Are you even eighteen?” I nodded again.
“Dirty sixth form slut. I bet you let him do you up the shitter didn’t you?” I nodded again, and was thankful I was not really Lisa Watson, as I would have wet myself with terror by now. There was no way I wanted to get on the wrong side of Ayumi in real life now, that was sure!
“Well, me and my friends are going to teach you what happens to filthy anal whores who touch my boy. Bend over!”
I obeyed, and almost toppled into the coffee table in front of me. There was some rustling on the plastic and whispered directions I couldn’t hear. Someone put the stereo on and had chosen some pumping techno music – the sort I usual hate but that seemed oddly appropriate. The back of the skirt was lifted up and the knickers pulled down.
I sensed someone kneel down next to me and then, not too surprisingly – slap! The palm of a hand came down on my left buttock, and then again slap! On the right cheek. Three more for each and then it was someone else’s turn to spank me – everyone got a go it seemed. At first, most of them weren’t too bad, but the third person, whoever she was, was vicious, and after that each one stung worse than the last. I imagined my arse turning beetroot red and glowing, but still I did my best to keep my grunts as feminine as possible through the gag, trying to make them high pitched squeaks instead.
After the seventh spanker had finished, she stroked my sore cheeks gently with her cool hands, and then ran a finger down between them.
“Ooh, she likes that!” It was Nicola’s voice. “Better give her what she likes then.”
I heard the pop of a cap and then something cold and wet trickled slowly down my crack and was rubbed around my tight hole by her finger. I moaned as the finger was pushed in, finally getting some real pleasure from the day. A second and a third slid in, pushing in deep, testing me, then without warning they withdrew and were immediately replaced by something thicker and longer, hurting a little when it entered despite the preparation. When it started vibrating inside me against my prostate I moaned louder, saliva dripping out of my mouth, through the holes in the ball gag and on to the plastic.
Pleasure was not to be had without a price though, as when Nicola stood up a riding crop was brought down hard on my already tender buttocks. It seemed everyone was to have a go at whipping me now, and it didn’t even stop when the doorbell rang. Through techno, and the pain and pleasure emanating from my bottom, I heard guys’ voices. No! That was Stuart, a guy from my course! But he wasn’t gay, I was sure. I recognised two of the other voices too, but couldn’t put a name to them. What were they here for? Would they recognise me? Suddenly the whipping stopped.
“OK whore,” Ayumi spoke in her commanding voice again and pulled me up to my knees by a handful of hair. “We’ve invited some of your classmates, brothers of classmates and others who know you to help us punish you. Now, you’re going to thank them for coming by sucking them off or maybe letting them fuck you, but if we take off your gag you’re not to scream, or call for help, or even say anything, or you’ll be whipped again. Understand?”
Naturally I nodded. This sounded a lot more fun than getting whipped, although that had been a new and surprisingly arousing experience. I just wished I could see who I would be fucking, or even how many. That was not to be though, at least not until much later when I was allowed to watch the video, as I could hear them all being told to make sure the blindfold stayed in place. Even without the blindfold, I might not have recognised many as I saw in the video that they were all made to wear masks. Some had brought their own – Zorro masks, Scream masks, balaclavas, someone even wore a Tony Blair mask which made me laugh later – but anyone who hadn’t could choose from some plain white and Halloween ones the girls had provided. So I waited on my knees, blind, not even knowing from which direction they would come, and shaking slightly partly from nerves and partly from the vibrating butt plug that was still inside me though, like my cock, hidden from view by the skirt.
“OK bitch,” came what was unmistakably Stuart’s voice approaching over the plastic. I turned my head in his direction. He was a tall guy, quite likable I’d always thought, despite his awful goatee. I’d never be able to look at him the same way again. “You can suck on this, but no biting.”
I heard him pulling down his trousers, then his thumbs tucked into the straps over my cheeks and the ball was pulled out of my mouth, falling to around my neck. His big hands were wrapped around my head and my face was pulled into his hairy crotch – it smelt sweet the way guys’ crotches often smell when they’ve been sweating. I stuck my tongue out and began licking whatever it would reach – pubic hair, balls, thigh, foreskin – until he held me back and used one hand to feed his soft cock into my mouth.
Even without my hands to help, this was something I knew I could do well. I pushed my tongue under his foreskin and swirled it around the smooth head, tasting his sweat. Immediately I could feel blood pumping into the shaft, engorging it and it hardened. I licked and sucked some more, then relaxed myself as I felt him start to thrust, involuntarily to begin with, then pushing my head down so the end of his cock slid a little way down my throat.
I coughed and almost gagged, saliva dribbling down my chin when he released me, but opened wide for him to come back in. I could taste the salty sweetness of precum, that clear oozing that comes with the approach of orgasm, so I doubled my efforts. Above me he was grunting and urging me on. Around us I could hear the girls and guys yelling encouragement – some of the guys sounded very close.
“Uh,” grunted Stuart. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”
He pulled his cock from my mouth and grabbed my hair to hold me in place. I could hear the wet movement of his hand rubbing his shaft. Having seen plenty of porn movies, I knew what was coming. I opened my mouth with my tongue out, bracing for the inevitable. Unable to peek, I jumped when the first warm jet streaked across my face, landing wetly on my cheek and forehead. More followed, some landing on my tongue, but I suspected that he wasn’t even aiming for it until he’d finished and pushed his cock back into my mouth for a clean.
The moment he stepped away my head was grabbed from the other side and a second erect cock forced between my lips. Once more I gave head and was rewarded with more . A third cock replaced it to taunts from the girls, though this guy let me finish him off, giving me a hot, sweet .
His was the last cock I was allowed to suck for a while however, as when he stepped away, slender feminine fingers pulled the ball gag back in place and pushed me forward on to the coffee table again. My legs were pulled apart by a pair of hands either side and I felt rope being secured above each knee and tied to the table legs so I couldn’t move. The butt plug was pulled out, my knickers pulled up and then the back of them pinched out. There was a metallic snip and the material sprung back on to my skin, but not all of it – there was a definite draft on a large patch of my buttocks around my recently vacated arse hole which was now receiving an extra dose of lubricant.
“The slut’s all yours sir,” came Arifa’s voice through the rustle of plastic behind me. Sir?
“Yes Lisa,” Claire said from somewhere in front of me. “We even told your headmaster what you’d done and he couldn’t resist coming to punish you himself, could you sir?”
“No, indeed,” replied a deep, mature voice I thought I recognised but couldn’t place. “I take a personal interest in the education of my students, and their punishment. Dirty little girls who take it up the arse need a special touch.”
It was only afterwards, watching the video that I recognised him as one of Ayumi’s lecturers who’d fucked her in the arse during the gangbang on my birthday. I suppose I would have remembered better if I hadn’t been wearing so many clothes as then I would have felt his large hairy stomach, his wide hairy chest, his big hairy arms or even his bushy black beard.
As it was, all I felt was his hands on my waist and his large dick plunging into my sphincter until his (naturally, very thick) pubic hair at the base was pressing into the circle of exposed skin around it. He was certainly no gentle giant, pounding has cock into my arse as hard and fast as he could until he suddenly stopped inside. A strange, warm and wet sensation inside me made me realise he hadn’t been using a condom, a realisation confirmed by the wet stream of cum that ran down out of my hole as he withdrew.
Barely had the thousand worries of STDs entered my head when another cock took his place. This one was fatter, but it’s owner slower and more gentle, though it didn’t help him last as he soon pulled out, still ejaculating, the rest of his jism soaking my knickers. While he was wiping his dick on my skirt the doorbell rang again. More? I wondered. Had Ayumi invited everyone who’d fucked her the last time?
It seemed the answer was yes, although afterwards I saw it was only about half of them, though almost as many new people came to replace those missing. Amazingly, nearly everyone came thinking and believing that I was a girl, if not really an eighteen-year-old sixth former being punished for fucking me, Ayumi’s boyfriend. A handful were gay or bi guys that I had fucked before who were in on it, but they didn’t give it away to the others. Watching it afterwards, this made it even hotter, as I was being fucked by the sort of guys I would never dare to proposition and who would never knowingly fuck me, a guy.
At the time though, I had no idea who was fucking me, apart from the occasional familiar voice giving me a clue. To start with I tried to keep a tally of how many had cum in my arse, on my face, in my hair or on my hands or back on their way to my head. But somewhere around number nine, I lost track.
A particularly was fucking my arse with large squelches from the spunk left by previous occupants. The gag had been pulled out again and my mouth filled with another cock. The thrusts of all those who’d fucked my arse had been rubbing my dick, still taped out of the way in the front of my knickers, against the edge of the coffee table in a tantalising way, but not enough to let me cum. In the end, it was the endless stimulating of my prostate, combined with the mental stimulation of my mouth filling with cum that brought me over the edge.
I moaned, in as girly a way as I could, into the pulsating dick in my mouth, cum cascading out over my chin as I couldn’t swallow. My own cock emptied itself, unseen, into the front of my knickers, some trickling down the front of my leg. The climax was so long and powerful that when it faded I no longer knew if I was being fucked by the same people or not.
There was no point in trying to keep track of the number of cocks or the length of time. Unusually for me, and I think most guys, I came again almost immediately, and then again a while later. But while my cock and arse were still hypersensitive in the aftermath of each orgasm, there was no let up in the stream of cocks and cum being rammed into my arse and mouth and raining down on my head. My hair was soaked and it felt like I was wearing a mask like the girls as the liquid cum turned to jelly on my face. My arse started to go numb, and then sore despite frequent reapplication of lubricant to complement the cum it was filled to over flowing with. The stench of cum, which I normally found so arousing, became overpowering, almost nauseating.
Now and then when they were waiting for more guys to arrive or I was only giving head, the girls would cane me again with their riding crops. The knickers were drenched and my legs splattered. Even the shirt felt damp just from the drops of cum that escaped when guys fucking my arse decided a second too late that they wanted to cum on my hair, face or in my mouth rather than my butt. I was hungry and thirsty after my minimal slave’s breakfast with only spunk to eat since. I began to feel like I might pass out from exhaustion and the ache from so many cocks, drowning in the thumping bass and mocking taunts from Ayumi and her friends. To keep going I just told myself over and over: she did this for me, she did this for me!
Finally, the last guy pulled out of my arse and came in my mouth then left. I was allowed a few minutes breather with the gag still off around my neck, though I was too exhausted to speak anyway. I could feel cum pouring out of my arse, dripping from my hair and oozing slowly down my face to the long strand I could sense dangling from my chin.
The holiday did not last long though. I could hear the girls regrouping on the plastic sheet, though at least there were no male voices anymore. But this didn’t save my arse: something thick, long though not too hard and definitely phallic in shape was fed carefully through my sphincter. No extra lubricant was needed as the ring was now loose, and in any case cum oozed out around it as it was displaced, easing its passage. They didn’t remove it but left it in, a weight perceptible on the other end. My mind was too muddied at the time to understand or really care what it was, but when I watch the video now I can see that what they were putting in was a long, double-ended dildo.
Vinyl boots touched either side of my calves, and someone (Ayumi it turned out) gasped behind me. I felt pressure on the dildo as she worked the other end into her pussy until, her skirt having been discarded, her bare buttocks touched my cum soaked knickers. It was her familiar little moans and cries that brought me out of my stupor and realise who it was on the other end, and the arousing aspect of the day, which had been buried a little for me, arose once more.
Carefully, someone untied my legs and began pulling the coffee table away from under me so that only my shoulders were resting on it. Thankfully they used my shoulders, sore though they were from being tied in an unnatural position for nearly two hours, rather than my hair as before, when they lifted me up to allow someone to sit on the table in front of me. That someone I recognised immediately from her voice, kind despite the commanding tone, as Nicola, who said simply:
To my surprise the pussy my sticky, cum covered face was being pushed into was waxed smooth, a real Brazilian. Well, I longed for a taste of pussy juice after so much man juice, and Nicola was deliciously wet, and tasted subtly different from Ayumi, slightly sweeter. With only my neck to support me it was awkward getting the right angle, but I did my best.
I licked the smooth skin all around, then moved inwards, just the tip tracing the edge of her lips, smearing cum from my face all over her thighs in the process. I licked that up again, teasing her, then finally between them and up, around her clitoris. Her moans joined Ayumi’s behind me, who I could tell was close to orgasm, so encouraged I intensified my efforts despite my tongue aching already after so many blowjobs. I could feel her fingers helping me out as my girlfriend orgasmed and was replaced on the dildo by someone else, someone rougher, though that actually stimulated me more.
Then, out of the blue, Nicola shrieked and I felt a jet of hot liquid spraying out into my mouth, which I instinctively closed wincing. My first thought as the liquid cascaded over my face was that she was peeing. But I realised the smell, and when I allowed myself to think it, the taste, was not right for urine. It smelled and tasted the same as pussy juice. Was Nicola one of those women I’d heard of who ejaculated?
“Oh, sorry!” She said. “I don’t always do that!”
“Don’t apologise to her!” Kea said from nearby. “If she can take men ejaculating in her face she can take women doing it! Does anyone else have Nicola’s gift? Because that was hot!”
Apparently no one else did, but Kea was next on the coffee table. For at least another half hour I had girls shoving my sticky face into their cunts and others humping the dildo sticking out of my arse. I had tasted girls other than Ayumi before, but never one after the other and blind like this. I really appreciated the subtle differences in taste, and texture each had, from the shape of their lips, to inside. Then there was the extent to which they had been trimmed, shaved or waxed. Although Nicola turned out to be the only one with a Brazilian, Claire came close with the amount she had shaved around her private area. Kea had also trimmed, though hers and Miho appeared to be more like my Ayumi’s neat bikini line. Arifa had a less extreme bikini line, but Chisato had let her hair grow freely and naturally, even on the top of her thighs. Not that I was one to complain: while getting the odd hair in the mouth was not always pleasant, I loved burying my face in a hairy muff as much as in a totally bald one.
It was even hotter on the video footage though, as it really looked like a girl being made to go arse to arse with a succession of masked dominatrix. I appreciated who had been who when I could watch Arifa, her brown legs completely naked after removing her skirt, frantically rubbing herself whilst shuddering slowly up and down on the dong. Or see Miho with her skirt hitched up pulling my hair, bucking and squealing to my tongue in her pussy. And yes, it really did look hot when I saw Nicola spraying her juices in my face, her orgasm so unmistakably genuine. Watching it makes me long to repeat that “lesbian” part at least over and over again.
Eventually though, they tired of fucking and making me lick them, so the dildo was withdrawn. I on the other hand felt a little rejuvenated. I welcomed the return of the vibrating butt plug to my gaping anus and being made to kneel up again. Left like this for a while I listened to the girls walking away, possibly to the kitchen, and when they came back it sounded like they were eating. The thought of them eating sandwiches around me reminded me just how hungry I was. Then through the music I heard the ping of the microwave, and got butterflies in my stomach as I realised what that must mean.
“You must be thirsty after all that fucking Lisa,” Ayumi said in a mocking tone. “Well, we’ve warmed you up a special drink so it will be just as if it’s fresh. All donated by those guests we had earlier. So we’ll untie you for it, but you mustn’t try to escape or you know what will happen.”
I nodded, and with difficulty due to the knots now being slick with spunk, the ropes binding me were undone. A warm pint glass was pushed into my hand, and I heard them step back. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, I raised the glass to my lips. The smell of old, reheated cum was overpowering, and I gagged, lowering it again. Clearly Ayumi had once again persuaded all the guys to donate their week’s sperm to her cause. It was probably lucky I was still blindfolded, as on the video it looks pretty gross, that glass of grey-yellow, semi-translucent semen.
“Hurry up, bitch!” One of the girls called impatiently, and the others joined in.
Another breath and then as I exhaled I raised the glass to my lips once more, opened my mouth and tipped it back. The girls started clapping a beat, so clearly they wanted me to down the entire pint in one go. The thick mixture of the product of dozens of different guys wanking all week slid into my mouth, coating my tongue. I swallowed, let more in, and swallowed again.
Downing a pint of beer is hard enough, but cum is so thick and it’s taste so unusual even when fresh that it’s impossible to do fast. Excess spunk overflowed and ran down my cheeks when I tipped too far, but I knew they wouldn’t let me get away with that too often. The worst was not being able to see how much was left, having to guess from the angle I was lifting the glass at. I gulped more and more down my throat, almost choking at one point and spitting it back into the glass, but I didn’t pause, just took it back inside. Finally, I had to tip my head right back to get it to flow out, and I was finished, sticking the empty glass upside down on top of my head as they told me to so the dregs ran onto my head, and gasped for air.
“Here, let me take that,” Claire said, taking the glass from my hand.
“And you can take this!” Arifa said as she poured a second load of reheated cum over my head, making sure my hair and face were completely drenched. The girls cheered as the spunk dripped from my chin, nose, ears and hair. I could feel it trickling down my neck at the back and the front where it ran down my chest between the fake breasts. While the back of the shirt was already damp, the front was now streaked with semen. As what had been done to me sank in, I discovered that being a bukkake “cum dumpster” turned me on as much as watching it being done to others, and I was hard again. Someone stepped closer.
“Still hungry Lisa?” That was Kea. Surely there wasn’t more cum? “Open wide for your soup!”
The cold vegetable soup left from two nights before and kept in the fridge landed in my open mouth, though not too accurately. I was very hungry, so I tried to eat as much as I could, but she didn’t stop when I closed my mouth to swallow, so most of it ended up on my shirt, skirt, and hair. The same happened with a tin of baked beans, a tin of spaghetti hoops in tomato sauce, and even some potato puree someone had mixed up. By the end I had actually managed to eat quite a bit, even if I was covered in food, particularly when I found I was allowed to scoop up the mess from my face and clothes with my hands to eat as this was an extra humiliation.
“Dessert, Lisa?” asked Miho, and promptly emptied three small tubs of chocolate pudding onto my face, one after the other. followed courtesy of Chisato, which did at least land in my mouth, but a scoop was too much to take at once so I had to let most of it slide out, sliding freezing cold down my front. Claire topped that with huge servings of chocolate and strawberry syrup, followed up with some thick chocolate flavoured milk from Nicola. Next came a whole tub of plain yoghurt from Arifa, which I didn’t even bother to try to eat, letting it slide over my hair instead. I heard someone else step up behind, and braced myself, but nothing came.
“Look up, Lisa,” Ayumi said. I did, and my face met a smooth stream of cold vanilla custard, exactly the sort Ayumi had had me pour over her when it was my birthday. I swallowed some, but I actually loved the feel of it pouring over my skin, even mixed with all the bits of other food. When the custard stopped, Ayumi’s high-heeled boot pushed me over and ground my face into the mess on the plastic. My skirt was pulled up, the knickers down, and once more my bottom was being whipped with the butt plug still inside. With each stroke Ayumi punctuated her words:
“Don’t – you – ever – ever – ever – touch – my – boyfriend – again – you – filthy – whore!”
The boot was withdrawn, but I stayed still, cowering. However, that was the end of their little production.
“OK, slave,” Ayumi said, panting. “You don’t have to be Lisa anymore. Take you blindfold off and undress for us, slowly.”
Gratefully, I did so, blinking in the sudden light. Someone changed the music to something slow and less objectionable, though I didn’t recognise it. They were all standing around me grinning under their masks. Ayumi, Chisato, Claire and Arifa still wore their tops but were naked from the waist down having taken their miniskirts or hot pants off for me to lick them and to fuck the dildo. Kea had had to remove her cat suit completely, so stood completely naked. Nicola had just unzipped the front of her dress, which still hung open, flashing her bald pussy and bare, freckled breasts at me. Miho must have just pulled up her skirt for that as she was the only one still dressed.
With some difficulty due to the slime covering everything, I undressed. The shoes were easy, as were the socks, while the knickers were down around my knees already. The shirt buttons were slippery, and then the material stuck to my skin when I peeled it off. The skirt fastening was also awkward, and my shoulders ached from being bound when I reached behind to unfasten the bra. I winced a little when peeling the fake breasts off, but the glue seemed to have been weakened by all the things that had dripped down my front so they came off fine. Last of all, I untaped my cock, which sprung free, still semi-erect.
Ayumi smiled when I sat completely naked in the puddle of cum and food. My hair, legs and face were still covered in mess apart from a more or less clean band over my eyes that had been protected by the blindfold, and there were streaks on other parts of my body too. She stepped forward to stand in front of me, letting me stare up her legs to her neat black pussy hair, and slowly removed her pink corset, releasing her tits. Nicola handed her another open carton of custard as she stood there in just her high pink boots and the pink cat mask. She stepped forward to stand over me, and I closed my eyes, smiling expectantly for the vanilla flavoured sauce to come.
Down it came, splashing off my face on to my shoulders. Ayumi moved the stream slowly in a controlled fashion over my chest, then my bald erect cock and finally my legs covering them in the pale yellow goo. Once the carton was empty she threw it aside and, still not speaking, crouched down, her crotch hovering near mine. Reaching down, she smeared the custard slowly over my balls and up my shaft, touching it only lightly but with the dessert as lubricant and the continual prostate stimulating from the butt plug that still buzzed in my arse I was soon rock hard and aching.
One hand on my slippery shoulder for support, she knelt down, straddling my sticky lap, her erect nipples almost touching my chest. Her hand around my cock rubbed it back and forth in her short curly hairs, then just brushing her wet lips with its slimy head, and finally between them. Even for her she was surprisingly controlled as she sank down with painful slowness, swallowing my cock into her cunt. She exhaled when she had all seven inches of me inside her, her thighs squeezing my hips and drops of pudding already bejewelling her bush.
Her hand slid up from there, scraping through the slime on my stomach and chest. The other slipped around my neck and into my soaked, matted hair, and for the first time that day her lips pressed into mine in a passionate kiss. Her friends started cheering, and I pushed myself up and forward, wrapping my arms around her back, smearing custard all over it and her buttocks as I clutched her to me to support her grinding. She broke the kiss first to lick some of the mess on my face, a lot of which had already transferred to her cheeks, chin and mask, then stuck her tongue in my mouth once more.
She pulled me away again, leant back, pulled my head down her neck and into her breasts. Her familiar moans and cries came loud and clear without my mouth over them, and I eagerly licked and sucked at her tits, smearing the mess from my face on them and then eating it off, even biting them softly now and again. As I knew she liked it, I slipped my middle finger into her arse, and finding it so easy with the custard as lubricant, immediately added a my ring finger as well. We were so into our fuck that when Claire and Chisato came over and emptied another two cartons of custard over us we barely reacted. All I did was lick her breasts more frantically as the dessert cascaded over them, and brought the hand not in her sphincter around to squeeze her breasts too. I pulled Ayumi into another kiss while it rained down on both our heads, soaking her hair and dripping from her side ponytail.
“We should fuck in custard more often love,” she half-whispered, half-panted in my ear when they stepped away. “This is really fucking hot!”
Her vagina started pulsating almost as soon as I placed my mouth back on her breasts. She started crying out and grabbing at me even tighter, not bouncing up at all anymore but grinding her clitoris hard into the skin above my penis. Her sphincter tightened around my two fingers inside it, and it was this, on top of her cries and her pulsating pussy, not to mention the vibrator on my prostate, that finally brought me over the edge too. I moaned, and then gasped as the orgasm gripped me, my cock seizing and pulsing with pleasure despite having very little semen left to give. Eventually, we both relaxed our grip on each other and kissed, more tenderly this time, before Ayumi remembered her role for the day and stood up.
“Good slave,” she said, and grabbed my head. “Now lick me clean.”
She made me clean her pussy, licking out the small amount of my own cum that I’d left her. Then I had to start with her feet and lick the custard off her entire body, even her hair. This took a long time, or so it seemed with a tongue as tired as mine was by then, and at the end there was still a large amount of yellow residue, but it wasn’t dripping off her as it was off me. My tormentors satisfied at last, I was allowed to remove the butt plug that felt very uncomfortable now. The girls laid out a trail of newspaper for me to walk up to the bathroom without spoiling the carpets.
Here I was treated to another cold shower. This time with my arse so sore from being spanked, whipped and fucked repeatedly, and the rest of my body unpleasantly sticky from drying cum and food, the cold water was quite welcome. It did last a long time though, especially to get the stuff out of my hair. Once I was clean, Ayumi stepped into the bath and made me give her a hot shower, which at least warmed me up a bit with the splashes.
The fun over, the girls removed their masks and returned to the bedroom to get changed again. Despite being stiff, sore, and barely able to walk, I was ordered back downstairs to begin the clean up. Luckily with the plastic sheet this didn’t take too long. The coffee table needed wiping, the plastic sheet careful folding and carrying into the kitchen to have its content emptied into the sink, and the newspaper throwing out. After that it was just a case of scrubbing the places where food had splashed out and doing the washing up.
As I was beginning that last stage, the seven girls came downstairs in the clothes they’d arrived in except Ayumi. She had let her hair down, had changed into a long t-shirt she wore as pyjamas and was barefoot. I glanced at the clock and was amazed to see it was gone three. They waved a giggly goodbye to me from the doorway, saying they hoped to see me soon.
“I’ll get it edited and put online tonight, don’t worry,” Nicola said as she left, and we were left just the two of us.
“What’s she going to put online?” I blurted out, worried.
“Slaves don’t ask questions,” Ayumi said, coming into the kitchen. I winced as she slapped me arse, though it wasn’t hard, and she softened it by running her hands up my side, one coming back down to cup my balls with her cold fingers. “But, just so you know, Nicola is going to put that video we took today up on a few of those YouTube-style sites for porn.”
My jaw dropped and eyes widened in shock. Would she really do that?
“Don’t worry darling,” she said, laughing in my ear and squeezing my cock and balls as she did so. “She’s only putting the part where you play Lisa online, no one will recognise you. The rest is just for us and the girls to enjoy.”
She left me to finish the washing up and went to watch TV. When I had finished I put the kettle on and made her a cup of tea as I always did around that time of day, bring it to her with some chocolate chip biscuits on a plate. She let me sit at her feet for a while, then made me go around the house opening curtains again, and just as I opened those in the living room she said:
“Oh look darling, it’s sunset!” I turned to her. No “slave” in that remark. “I only asked for your bondage from sunrise to sunset, so… You’re free! I hope you’re not angry with me…”
I turned my back on her and closed the curtains again, but I couldn’t even pretend to be angry for a few seconds.
“No my love,” I said turning back and smiling at her to reassure her. She seemed genuinely worried she might have gone too far. “No, I’m not angry. Now I really know what you gave me for my birthday, and I deserved today. But…” I walked towards her, “I also really enjoyed it!”
We kissed, tenderly at first, but then she became more passionate, grabbing my arse. I squeezed her breasts, naked beneath the t-shirt, her nipples already hard, and moved my hand down to her thighs. She had no knickers on and was already wet, so my fingers slid inside her easily. I did my best to get myself in the mood while giving her pleasure. But, despite her best efforts with her hand on my cock, I just didn’t have another erection in me that day.
“Sorry, darling,” I said. “You’ve worn me out today. Would you like me to go up and get your rabbit?”
“Oh, yes please,” she replied. And so, apart from dinner and some more TV, our day ended with Ayumi on the sofa, her t-shirt pulled up for me to kiss her breasts, and her rabbit vibrator in her pussy. A strangely calm end to a day in which she had forced me to return the messy birthday present she had given me with added BDSM interest.