House Slut - S01 E93

Story 1 day ago

House Slut - S01 E93

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 93

“Please.” She repeated, her voice fillwed with desperation. She had never needed anything so badly. Surely he must need this as much as her – she surmised that orgasm denial was the whole point of the ritual but the fact that the men were refraining as well only made her need more urgent. After while the man moved on and he was replaced by another. She supposed it was time for a second rotation – she was so close to her edge that she felt like she would surely burst at any moment but knowing this the men barely moved, simply taking turns warming their cocks inside her while they played with her nipples, and she started to lose track of time, lulled into a trance.



“In the Fifth Circle” the Speaker’s voice cut in again. How long had she been lying on that table getting fucked? She couldn’t know. The speaker continued: “are the sinners of Wrath – who endlessly torment each other with violence.”

Tegan was abruptly hauled up ooff the table and pushed back against something. As her wrists were unbound, a man on each limb pulled her into an X shape and she felt manacles being clicked into place at her wrists and ankles. She realised she must be on some kind of medieval style rack. Her chest rising and falling with fast, deep breaths she looked blearily around the room as the tables were moved out of the way. Her rack was turned towards the centre of the room and she realised that she and the five other woman, all in the same predicament, were in a rough circle facing each other. She could not easily see the women to her left and right but the three women opposite were in the same situation. Naked and bound to X-shaped racks, seemingly breathless, their skin shiny with sweat. All three of them were entirely shaved and she could see juices glistening on their inflamed pussy lips.

As she watched her view was blocked by a man approaching her with a gag. It appeared to be a simple leather bit that she could bite down on but would not be locked in place, presumably to enable her to use the party safeword if she wanted to back out. The thought had so far not occurred to her and she trembled at the thought of what now lay ahead. The man held the gag up to her mouth and waited, and she opened her mouth to accept it and bit down carefully, holding it with her teeth. As she accepted the bit, another man approached and tugged on her nipples, somewhat roughly, seeming to ensure they would be at full hardness and she felt them pinched by an object – nipple clamps was the obvious conclusion. She let out a muffled grunt as they pinched the sensitive nubs and she felt her legs quiver and her clit throb.

Another man stepped up to her, this seemed to be the slightly chubby one who had previously cum in her mouth, holding a riding crop. She stiffened in anticipation as he flexed the crop in his hands and slapped it against his palm with a fleshy crack then started running the tip over her body. He traced a lazy line across her chest, tapping her lightly on the nipple clamps which elicited another grunt from her, then he continued tracing it down her belly towards her crotch. He skirted around her pubis and rubbed the crop against her inner thighs. Then suddenly he flicked his wrist and slapped the crop against her thigh making her cry out. It was more out of surprise than pain though the crop did create a definitely sting. He smiled knowingly – she did not detect any cruelty in it, which gave her some comfort. She felt the crop slowly run up her thigh and he nestled it against her slit, rubbing it back and forth with the polished leather rubbing against her aching clit. Then he ran the crop down the other thigh before slapping it again. Tegan cried out again but to her surprise there was an edge of passion to it. She felt her pussy clench, a rising need. It had been some time since her first and only orgasm of the evening under the skilful tongue of a stranger and all she wanted was to be filled again.

The man with the crop repeated his process, running the stick up her thigh to rest between her lips again, pressing it against her clit. Then he pulled it away and smacked it against her pussy. She whimpered as the blow landed just to the side of her crotch in the crease of her left thigh. Then he struck again and she felt the crop smack against her shaved slit, causing her to momentarily tense up then sag in her restraints. She was already aching and part of her was inclined to put an end to this so she could just go home and let Sam fuck her brains out – but a much larger part of her wanted to see this through. She knew that eventually there had to be a payoff, and her body was on fire with a need to continue. She raised her head and her eyes scanned the room looking for Sam. It was hard to find him in the crowd of naked men standing around but she found him attending to one of the women across from her, a busty blonde woman. He was idly playing with what looked like a cat-o-nine-tails, apparently waiting for his turn to partake in her degrading punishment.

She was snapped back to her own predicament as another blow from the crop stuck against her tender labia. The man was hitting her hard, just enough to sting, but it still sent ripples through her sensitive body. Her clamped nipples ached and she could feel them pulsing with her heartbeat. She had never felt more exposed and vulnerable – because she never had been. In her mind she knew she had a choice but at the same time she felt like she was helpless, a prisoner of her own lust. The crop struck her thigh again, then the man teasingly ran the tip along the underside of her small tits, giving each nipple clamp a playful tap before stepping away. She watched him go then her attention was captured by another man stepping up before her. He was holding his own cat-o-nine-tails and she felt a plaintive moan escape from her as she both anticipated and dreaded him using it on her.

The man did not waste any time. He drew his arm across and the tails of the cat lashed across her belly. He didn’t seem to be striking hard but the tails nonetheless stung as they crossed her skin. She tightened her stomach muscles and moaned into the bit, involuntarily struggling against the manacles holding her arms akimbo. She took a few deep breaths and tried to ready herself as he drew his arm again, a second backhand slash and this time the tails crossed her chest, stinging her small tits and catching against the clamps. Jolts of pain shot through her nipples and made her weak at the knees momentarily. When she didn’t appear to be protesting the man swung his arm again in a lazy forehand movement that lashed her across the left side of her ribs. She flinched away from the blow, another muffled cry escaping her. Then he backhanded again, this time catching her across the right side of her ribs. She could feel her body shaking as adrenaline surged through her body, the lust and narcotic induced fog seeming to clear from her brain. The man swung again and the tails lashed her lower belly and the top of her pubic mound and she arched her back, and she bit down hard on the leather as her legs shook and she realised, against all expectation, that she was coming. She struggled to support her weight on her legs as her thighs tensed and quaked, her pussy convulsing and clenching, her nipples and clit throbbing as a wave of ecstasy surged through her. She balled her hands into fists as she rode out the waves of pleasure and then went limp in her restraints, her mind reeling with the overwhelming surge of sensation coursing through her and the realisation that she had come from pain. She felt broken somehow, like her entire worldview was distorted. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed hard.

For now, it seemed like they were done torturing her, if that had ever been their intent. She could sense the men standing around her but it seemed that their mission had been accomplished. Had that been the point? To confuse her senses until her body sought release wherever it could be found? She could feel a cool wet sensation on her thigh and wondered if she had wet herself, or if she was simply dripping with need. Around the room she could hear the other women’s muffled moans and cries following each smack of some implement striking their bare skin. To her left she heard the urgent cry of “virgil” as one of her cohort, a slightly chubby brunette, reached her limit and tapped out. Was she the first? She couldn’t tell for sure. There was some commotion as she was released from her rack and escorted from the room with her partner who left his group to her left and made gentle soothing noises, assuring her that all was well, and she was appreciated. The rest of the men redistributed themselves among the other sacrifices, incrementing each group by one. Tegan raised her head to regard the now six men clustered around her, a defiant gleam in her eye.