I write for a living. My crime novels sell quite well.
I also write erotic BDSM stories, under an alias, that are not nearly as profitable, but do get me invited to some very interesting gatherings, such as the monthly orgies at the Montserrat Manor.
These parties are the most extravagant and exclusive in the world, where the brash and beautiful, the rich and risqué, cavort in devilish debauchery.
Much of the luxurious mansion is devoted to basic swinging and revelry, but one wing is a well-equipped bondage haven. I have gotten some great ideas for my sexually-oriented stories there, and a few of my own favorite fantasies have been recreated by the hosts and guests within these halls.
I try to never miss a single gathering there. Let me tell you about the latest one.
As I entered the mansion, my exquisitely erotic friend Christina invited me to join her later in the Hourglass Room, a time-locked bondage vault, for a tryst.
Per tradition, she would be already be bound, and I would have sixty uninterrupted minutes to do anything I wanted to her—within reasonable limits, we’re not savages—after our hosts sealed us in the well-equipped BDSM room.
Christina was a lusty, busty, chestnut-haired beauty that had shared my bed in the past, so of course I said yes, reserve the room for us.
As a matter of fact, we had shared the Hourglass Room during the previous month’s orgy, but that time, I was the one pre-tied down to the bed by our friends and then locked in with her.
That minx spent the next hour toying with me, starting with an intoxicating strip tease, which was a three-course sex meal in itself.
(I mean it; her body is perfection. I'm not sure which part is more alluring; her angelic face with that devilish mouth, those big, firm breasts capped with eager nipples that just pop into your mouth, or her curvaceous ass that practically begs to be manhandled and spanked.)
She then used her mouth and pussy—and don't even get me started on that magnificent pussy—to slowly drive my bound body crazy with raging lust that built ever so slowly, so agonizingly.
Christina talked a good fantasy game, too, describing in thrilling detail the alternating punishments and pleasures she had in mind for me later in the night. It was clear she had read all my books and knew my most intimate kinks.
(She once suggested that I move my detective characters into my BDSM universe. That would be interesting; I knew that other authors’ vanilla books had been turned into erotic fanfiction, but writing my own? Worth a thought.)
Christina orgasmed twice that session: once straddling my face and once riding on my cock, but she only let me come once, at the very, very end of the hour, just as they were unlocking the room. Her timing was impeccable.
Tonight, we were both looking forward to my upcoming "revenge” so I could ravish and torment her. My plan was that, instead of a tease-and-denial session, I might mercilessly drive her to as many screaming orgasms as I could, using the many tools available in the room, both electric and biological.
Christina is a sexual athlete; I figured she was good for at least ten to twelve mind-blowing explosions before the hour was up.
Since the room was already occupied on this night, I had to bide my time. Christina was elsewhere getting ready, so I spent the next hour enjoying some fine food and drink while I watched the action in the various rooms of the mansion.
In one parlor, a man was strapped naked into a stirrup chair, his legs spread wide. One of the guest instructors was demonstrating various techniques for prostate massage and advanced anal stimulation.
(Monty was writhing and moaning, but that was just for show. I’ve seen the man take dildos up his ass that would send me running for my life.)
In another room I watched a lovely, flexible woman named Elise on her feet, bent over in a strappado bondage tie, meaning that her arms were stretched up all the way behind her head and pointing towards the ceiling, while she was bent over at the waist.
The brunette was wearing absurdly high heels, a brutally tight corset, and nothing else.
She was licking and sucking the erect cock of a man seated in front of her, trying to bring him to orgasm with only her mouth, while another woman—the man’s wife, I believe—was fingering and slapping the lass’s ass and pussy.
I was invited to take Elise from behind, but I was saving my cock for Christina. So, another lucky man graciously stepped forward to accommodate the lass’s desire for penetration. Which hole he chose, I did not see.
(This, and all the action within these walls, was consensual; the hosts made absolutely sure of that. Besides, I knew Elise to be game for nearly anything, including advanced electro-play that would break any lesser pain-slut. Her demonstration of that ability was scheduled for midnight in the main hall. I hoped she was pacing herself.)