The realisation that you weren't alone with him sharpened your anxiety and sent it straight to your cunt. A cry of protest rose in belly but died in your mouth, muffled by his boxer shorts, as your attention was dragged to the wet tongue circling your clitoris, now another sliding between your labia, now another tracing the line where the hook's hard steel met the softness of your hot flushed pulsating asshole. Your will to protest wilted as the heat and excitement grew in you, your body being enveloped in fingers and tongues, licks and slaps and pinches and gropes. You were enjoying this now. Still nobody spoke to you, but you became aware of a rising chatter in the background, behind the noise of sucks and slaps, of the heavy breathing and the spitting for fingers, the liquid sound of saliva being smeared on your softest parts. You strained to hear the noise behind -the whispered chatter, the chatter of an audience? You heard stools being dragged across a flagstoned floor, and was that the sound of a packet of crisps being opened? The pop of a cork? You felt the tickle of rope sliding across your skin, your bondage being altered. You were yanked suddenly by your hair, pulled up onto your knees. Something large was pushed between your legs, a box. You winced as your cunt was filled by a large, slick protrusion, your abdomen forced onto it by the many hands, your vulva pressed against the box you now sat on, and the whole thing began to hum, slowly at first. Bzzzzzzz. It was clearly very powerful, a low buzzing vibration which increased in intensity slowly and certainly. bzzzzzzzzZzzzzzzzzzzzZZzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZzzzzzzzzzzZZZZzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. Pleasure burst out from the box at every point the box touched you and bled up through you, almost overwhelming. From your knees up your whole inner leg to your sex, your clit, and inside your cunt right up to where you could feel it in your belly the BZZZZZ pleasure overwhelmed you and shut off your brain. The buzzing in your cunt drowned out the thoughts of anxiety, of exposure, of shame at who might or might not be seeing you now, of anger at being molested by some unknown strangers BZZZZZZZ. You started to wiggle your hips. No, your hips started wiggling of their own accord. You were bouncing and rocking on your knees. You were bouncing BZZZZZ and rocking BZZZZZ and grinding your clit against the amazing powerful buzz thing between your BZZZZZZ legs and thrusting your ass in the air and fucking, fucking, fucking fucking, fucking this buzzing cock thing like it was the last thing you'd ever fuck, hungrily, greedily sucking it into your cunt and spitting it out and sucking it in again. You didn't give a fuck who was there because you weren't catherine anymore but some heaving, rocking, selfish-cunted fuck-thing. It was when the boxer shorts were torn from your mouth and a hard cock shoved into it that you realized you were grateful. So grateful. So grateful your tongue massaged that cock earnestly in thanks and sucked it hungrily and with abandon, giving it all your mouth, all your throat, and weeping happy gag-tears as it began to fuck your mouth and throat hard. You are a cock-thing. You love it when the cock in your mouth bursts with cum, some sliding down your throat, some spurting out the sides of your mouth and raining hot cum on your already gag-slick tits and belly. You love it when that cock is replaced by another, and that by another when it's done with you. You love it when the hook is removed from your pulsating, happy asshole and a hot, lube wet cock slides into your rectum and begins to fuck, squeezing the tissue between itself and your hot, wet, dildo fucking cunt. You love the smell of crotch and cum and dick filling your nostrils. You love the feeling of hot cum spattering on your face, your legs, your back, your ass, your arms and soaking into your hair. You love being a cum soaked, cunt hungry dick pig with countless hands smearing countless ejaculations over every surface and into every nook and cranny of your body. You love the frenzy and are so grateful and happy and you cum so, so hard. So hard your brain becomes white noise. You hear the pop of a champagne bottle and feel cool bubbly liquid rinsing over your cum-stink skin. A mouth is pressed against yours, spilling the sweet sparkling wine into your mouth and you swallow.
The last thing you hear as your eyelids drop like the heaviest of shutters falling under their own gravity is him saying "happy birthday, Catherine".
You are conscious before you can command your body again. Before your eyelids will open you feel the weight of your head pressing your face into a hard cool surface. You are sat at your kitchen table with an envelope in your hand. The clock tells you it is half past two in the afternoon, the kids will be home soon. You don't know where your morning has gone. You open the envelope and find this letter in it.
All you have is my word for it, that and this polaroid of you acting like a maddened slut.
Happy Birthday Catherine
xx. |
"
