Come One, Come All


Watching the slow whirl of the ceiling fan above me, I wriggled impatiently in my chair. Skin squeaked against padded pvc, leather crisped and chains clinked. The sounds made me smile, so I wriggled a little more. And what a mistake that was.

My movements squeezed my labia together, spreading the fluid that slowly seeped from my vagina over my skin. It trickled down my perineum, instantly cooling, giving me an itch my bound wrists wouldn’t let me scratch.

Still, it wasn’t as bad as the itch I had inside me. An aching, throbbing itch so deep I’d need something long and hard to ease it. Something like a cock, big enough to stretch me, to fill me up and make my pussy quiver.

As luck would have it, exactly what I needed stood just on the other side of the door I was facing. The door that was opening.

I looked at the dick that came through, not interested in its owner. It was short and veiny, but oh so fat. I licked my lips, trying to open my legs wider. It was a pointless exercise. They were as wide as they were going to get, held that way by the leather stirrups that were attached to the chair I was strapped to.

When the cock reached me I bucked my hips. It wasn’t going to be long enough to scratch my deepest itch, but it would prime my cunt for what came next. The guy stroking the cock held out his hand. I spat on it, watching him palm himself again, rubbing my saliva into the very tip before stroking it around the entrance to my vagina.

Oh, how I squirmed!

He laughed, slapping my clit with his dark purple head. “Impatient little whore. Is this what you want?”

Feeling him breach my tight hole made my reply come out in a satisfied hiss. “Fuck yes!”

Each stroke went a little deeper than the last, and in seconds I had all of him in me. I could feel every bulging vein as it passed in and out. He fucked me fast, holding onto my tits for balance. The chair vibrated under the force of his thrusts, my chains rattled, drowning out his nasty little grunts.

And then he was on his toes, pressing down on my groin as if he were trying to fall into me. I could feel the underside of his cock pulsing, filling me with cum. After giving me a soft smack in the face, he wiped the tip of his cock on my thigh and walked out, hi-fiving the guy who was walking in through the door.

Number two wasted no time.

Straight to me, straight in me, holding my ankles as he loosened his hips and fucked me. His cock was longer, but thinner, and he used it well. Relentless thrusting, breathless panting, dragging the nails of his right hand down my leg and laddering my stockings as he reached for my clit.

“Will you come for me, please?” he gasped, pressing his thumb into the top of my vulva and rubbing quickly.

Oh, how sweet. I might have if he’d kept going, but when I moaned and rotated my hips he cried out and slammed into me, pressing his hand against my fleshy belly as he came.

Then he was gone, and another dick was taking his place. Thick, long and wide headed, this one had a good chance of being milked by my orgasm. When the guy who was attached to it slapped my face, I sat up and took notice.

“Look at me when I fuck you, slut,” he hissed.

I held his eyes, encouraging him…no, daring him to fuck me harder. His face showed strain, so I knew he was fighting himself already. I started to laugh, wrapping my hands around the chains that held me captive, using them to lift myself so I could fuck back.

He slapped me again, squeezed my face, spat on my tits then slapped them too. Oh, I liked how he played! Stretching my head forward until the tendons in my neck ached I whispered, “Fuck me, you little bitch.”

He whimpered, unable to give any more than he already was. When he started to come I started to giggle. I was quite literally the cat getting the cream, and I loved it.

Number four lasted longer, and number five came before he was fully in me. Five, six, seven and eight ignored my body, only interested in the hole that they thought was there for their cocks. It amused me no end that they didn’t realise their cocks were there purely to fill my hole. This was for me, not them. Well, mostly.

Nine and ten were lazy fucks, wanting to hold themselves in me while I did all the work. It pained me to do it, but I did, using my muscles to squeeze their pricks until they let go inside me and left.

Number eleven shook his head at the last one to leave. When he reached me, he slipped a finger straight into my ass. “Wasteful little fuckers,” he sniggered. “How could anyone miss the opportunity to fuck this entire body? I won’t make that mistake.”

He was true to his word.

Every part of my body received his attention. Fingers in my mouth, hands on my nipples, in my hair, on my thighs. Nails scraping the soles of my feet, digging into my skin, marking me. He swung his hips high, making sure his balls bounced off my ass as he fucked me.

And his mouth never stopped. He called me a cumslut, and a filthy whore. He called me beautiful and precious, too. Every slap, every thrust, every sweet, vicious word made the tension in my body build and tighten until, finally, an orgasm so strong ripped through me I made the metal chair rattle and shake.

He didn’t stop. He kept on fucking me, using me for his own pleasure now that he’d given me mine. I loved every second of it, because I loved sex. I loved feeling used and abused. The ones who couldn’t get enough of me made me feel desirable, and the ones who came quickly made me feel irresistible. Like a Goddess they couldn’t handle.

As number eleven pounded into me, I wondered how my husband, Joe, would feel about it. Watching me lie here, bound and helpless, having man after man fuck me. Having them fill me with their hot cum, their dicks forcing out the previous man’s fluids when they plunged into me.

How would he feel about seeing this guy hit me? Spit in my face? Would my responses anger him? Would listening to me moan with pleasure, and laugh deliriously as I begged a paying stranger to fuck me harder, to fill my greedy cunt with his big dick piss him off?

I didn’t have to wonder for long.

As soon as number eleven left, Joe stepped out of the shadows by the wardrobe, cock in hand and smiling his sexiest smile. He might be the twelfth man to fuck me tonight, but we both knew he’d always be my number one.

Wicked Wednesday

Prompt #243 – TWELVE

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