Sarah: Party Bondage Ch. 05

I came like a thunderstorm, a scream ripped from me as I bucked wildly on the wooden cross, making the wood creak as waves of relentless, violent climax tore through me until I was left hanging, spent, sweat-drenched and gasping for air, from aching shoulders.

Kate, with the merest trace of a satisfied smile, unclipped the clamps from my nipples, letting blood flood back in and causing an excruciating combination of relief and pain.

I barely even noticed when she undid my ankle straps, but when she undid my wrist straps I fell like a dead weight, barely even responding enough to sprawl on the floor without cracking my knees or breaking my wrists.

The concrete floor of the garage, despite the room's comfortable temperature, was cold wherever I touched it.

I barely even noticed. In fact, I was even grateful for the cold against my aching pussy and my throbbing nipples.

Then my Mistress grabbed me by the hair and said "Up, slut. Crawl."

I found the energy from somewhere, although it was barely enough to stumble along behind her on the edge of falling, scrabbling over the hard concrete as she pulled me by my hair.

Then there was a low, leather topped bench in front of me, and I was pulled over that until she ordered me to stop, letting me collapse on my belly on the bench, my head hanging off the end.

I dimly heard Kate sitting down in front of me, and the other Mistress said something which I didn't hear but which prompted a ribald laugh from the Master.

Suddenly, I felt my left ankle grabbed, and rope quickly and thoroughly wrapped around it, the process taking just long enough to surprise me.

When he had finished - the hands tying me had to be the Master, they were too big and hard to be a woman's - I could feel a rope cuff snugly but not constrictingly tied for several inches up my ankle.

As I was wondering why he had only bothered with one ankle, my right wrist was grasped and pulled back, my body twisted and arched uncomfortably until my wrist was lying next to my ankle, and they were roped together, a cuff around my wrist holding it without pain but without any suggestion of looseness, either.

As he began wrapping rope around my right ankle, I was muzzily surprised to realise that although the position was uncomfortable, the bindings were anything but.

"She looks good already," I heard Vikki say, as my left arm was pulled back and up, my body twisted again until I was left with my arms and legs tied behind me in a cross shape, bowing my body up off the bench just enough to leave me with the anticipation of an ache in my back, and only a little less pressure on my sore breasts.

So this is being hogtied, I thought with a curious sense of detachment.

That sense of detachment, almost of unreality, was shattered as he grabbed my elbows, pulled them together and tied them in the same way.

I'm very flexible - I always have been - and the simple hogtie had stretched me but not yet been uncomfortable. The Master, with all of his experience, had noticed this and added that final extra touch to truly tell me just how powerless I was.

The stretch in my shoulders became a hard pull which threatened to become pain. I gasped, involuntarily, but was too broken to really cry out. I was merely flesh, accepting whatever they chose to do to me.

I knew what was to come - I remembered my Mistress' - promise - and when she pulled her stool closer to me, I raised my mouth willingly.

She was only the second woman I had ever gone down on, and as she used a firm grip on my hair to press my mouth into the gap between her spread thighs, I found her sharper tasting than Catherine, but also less effusively flowing, so the taste soon faded as it was diluted by my saliva.

She help my mouth against the top of her slit, so I concentrated on the area around her clit, trying to be inventive as I rubbed my tongue along and between and around her lips and found the tiny, hard nub of her clitoris.

She rocked her hips underneath me, pressing her slit harder against my mouth instead of pressing my head down harder.

"Good little slut!" she crowed, making me feel pathetically happy that she was pleased.

I redoubled my efforts, knowing by instinct that making her cum was the only thing I should be thinking about.

Then I felt rather than heard Vikki kneeling behind me and, submissive, spread my knees and relaxed my cunt before being asked.

Vikki laughed, a barking sound that contained an odd mingling of triumph and sardonic disappointment before I felt her brace one hand against my left knee a split second before she plunged her rigid fingers straight inside me.

My mind felt it happen without surprise or reaction, but my flesh erupted, jerking forwards in shock and then in the same second pushing back.

My quiescence was shattered in a surge of pure need.

I pressed my mouth against my Mistress' cunt as Vikki methodically worked her hand deeper inside me, her fingers spreading me knuckle by knuckle.

My shout into Kate was half screaming lust and half pain, but my flesh welcomed the pain and revelled in it.

I arched forwards against the hogtie, not able to move but trying to bury myself in Kate's cunt, the strain against the ropes the only thing which was preventing me from curling into a ball around Vikki's hand.

When she thrust her whole hand inside me, I felt and almost heard a pop as her knuckles passed my lips.

Then, incredibly, I felt her curl her fingers inside me, folding them back into a fist.

As she began to pump, the incredible girth of her fist inside me stripped away all conscious awareness of what was happening, all rationalisation or detachment.

I held my thighs as far apart as my bonds allowed, and fastened my mouth to my Mistress' cunt.

I'm not even sure if she came. I only assume that she did, because they made me cum again. Then again. Then again.

When I recovered any sense of awareness again, I was lying in a foetal position on a thick blanket on the floor, my wrists and ankles throbbing from marks left by the rope, my cunt just plain throbbing.

I could hear voices and laughter, and dimly made out Catherine's voice among them, before realising that she was sitting up beside me on the blanket, stroking my hair.

"Oh, I think she's awake," my friend said. "Would you mind if I borrowed her for a little while?"

"Oh, I think she's earned the right to decide that one," Kate's amused voice replied.

Would I do this ever again? No, probably not.

But as I weakly rolled over and my mouth sought for the cleft between Catherine's thighs, prodding at her to spread her legs wider for me, I didn't care.

For this one night, I was a little slut bitch who was only there to serve other people.

I lowered my mouth, and began to lick.