The feel of your soft lips on mine lingers, leaving me longing for more. All those years, and still you manage to kiss me in ways that leave me wondering how far you’re about to take the fuckery.

In the dim light of the unknown room, I can barely make out the shapes. Seemingly, the only source of illumination appears to be your mysterious smile that tells volumes about what this promised ‘surprise’ might entail. As you hold up a blindfold, I compliantly sit still, letting you tie it around my head while my heart’s pace accelerates with the surging adrenaline.

Leaning in, you whisper into my ear, “Tonight, my slut, is all about you.” The breeze of your breath against my neck erects the thin hairs, amplifying the senses I can still rely on.

Not understanding, I wish to express my protest because you know I exist for no other purpose than serving your lust, your ecstatic culmination being the greatest reward and proof of my prowess as a good servant of your needs. Yet, another ardent kiss silences my unspoken disagreement and reminds me of our natural hierarchy. I simply don’t get to be someone else, other than your personal serf, slave to your capricious desires, and, as such, am not allowed to refuse your wishes.

It’s not as if I had no needs of my own—the greatest one of them being the wish to satisfy my partners’ before allowing myself this pleasure. Too easily I let you see this side of me, submissive to a fault, the unprocessed trauma of a past lover still governing my every thought and action. Here, too, having never given it the necessary room, I’ve only just begun to realize how deeply the looming shadow really roots. Far too comfortably have I retracted into this self-sufficient shell of cozy self-deprecation and shyness. Far too long have I convincingly kept telling myself I am not worthy of your attention, following the narrative I have been indoctrinated by what I was too young to understand was not love but merely insecure gaslighting from a self-conscious partner.

And now, in all seriousness, you’re telling me that whatever it is you have in store, it shall be all about dull little me who doesn’t deserve even a fraction of your care. In all seriousness, you expect me to understand what you are offering me like it was the most trivial thing in the world. In all seriousness, you demand of me to give in to my urges and selfishly indulge.

All too well you know that, as always, I will obey your every wish. Still, it leaves me wondering how the good little sub slut I am would ever have any wish. That is, save for quenching other people’s thirst despite all those times you’ve held it against me and thrown a well-justified tantrum over my refusal to acknowledge my qualities and claim my desires.

At this exact moment, the lights go on and the door creaks open. I hear cushioned footsteps tip-toeing into the room but have no way of telling who they belong to or how many people enter. Through the thin veil, I can see no more than silhouettes and motion but there is no more information than barely aspirated words that fail to hit my pricked eardrums.

There’s movement on the bed. I feel the mattress give way to weight all around me, challenging my orientation without any visuals. My senses are on high alert as my skin rashes in goosebumps over apparently being the center of attention. I startle as your whisper gets amplified to screams in my auditory canal and my brain struggles with turning the volume down.

“In all these years, you’ve been a fantastic lover and husband,” I hear you say, “but, still, I keep failing to show you my appreciation and to make you understand I love you. Please allow me to return the pleasure at least this once.”

You’ve cornered me this time, with no way to escape and an inner conflict raging inside me. I am torn between choosing to disappoint you or betray my own instincts. I tense up, feel the need to run away and retreat to my own bed surge in my belly but I try to will myself into doing this for you. Silly you. Do you really know so little that your orgasm is the single most gratifying display of appreciation you can possibly show me? And yet I backpedal, realizing in growing shame how denying you the possibility of rewarding my incessant efforts is simply selfish too.

Still, the voices of discomfort in my head are screaming to run and not allow myself to give in to the temptation of just letting my mind dissolve in the pleasure. They are, however, instantly silenced with the simple act of your hands gently cupping my face and your lips sucking my inner demons out of me with a soft kiss that holds the promise of so much more.

Even though you cannot see my eyes, there is no way I could possibly hide my insecurities from you. You, my savvy lover and mistress who reads me so naturally. 

“We are here to use you as our toy,” I hear your voice, filled with gentle clemency. “We will draw our pleasure from you in all possible ways.” I can feel two arms wrap around me from behind and a pair of breasts soft as cushions pressing against my back Their warmth radiates from where they touch my skin as you continue your elaborations. “Everything we do to you is to extract pleasure from your body and to turn you into our little whore but never to make you feel uncomfortable. Just say the word and we’ll stop.”

I gulp from hearing those words I would have never dared even dream. A whole group of people dedicating themselves to touching me for their pleasure, just using me as their sentient sex doll, extracting from me what they covet most, turning me into their perfect slut. I marvel at the sheer admiration of how you so easily found a loophole in my self-effacing submissiveness, in using my inherent habit of putting everyone else’s pleasure before mine and getting my very own twisted sort of self-gratification from it.

As the arms around me gently pull me back, you conclude your explanations, “And don’t forget: you don’t get to cum until every last of us has had our way with you and is completely and utterly satisfied. Only then will you be allowed your own release.”

I don’t even have the time to process your words before rough hands gently pull me down to lie on the mattress. The realization that my most personal fantasy I never realized I had is falling into place like a magic puzzle. I can almost feel my chest burst with gratitude over the sheer intensity of the affection you subject me to but before I can even allow myself to wallow in too sappy emotions, the little that's left of my vision darkens again.

The familiar scent of saturated labia fills my nostrils, making my mouth drop open like an acquired anticipatory Pavlov reflex just a split second before I feel first the wetness and then the weight descending on my face. The nuances of the smell tell me it is not your cunt that is begging to be devoured, as does your satisfied giggling that is too far away from my ears. The approving hums and sighs I hear from directly above me are none I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing. Nonetheless, obediently, my manhood rises from its hibernation.

While losing myself in dutifully providing literal lip service to a perfect stranger, a hand grabs my dick and begins to laggardly stroke away. My voice is absorbed by the moist flesh grinding against my mouth and reverberates against the engorged petals. The immediate reaction comes in moans dripping both need and juice as well as harsher, more demanding grinds seeking contact with my tongue.

As my pre-cum starts condensing and trickling down my handle, I feel a tongue lap it sensually, coating my entire cock with it. I try to breathe as deeply as I can, given the constriction of my airways. A long-drawn ‘fuck’ tries to escape my throat as I feel a mouth engulf my lubed shaft until a nose hits my belly and with it, the hint of stubble. The surprise lands another muffled call directly into the clit that seeks to be played with, intensifying the need for release that keeps me firmly locked in position.

The moment a spastic deluge rains down on me, a wet finger circles my puckered hole, begging for entrance. I can’t help but open my mouth in reaction to welcoming the fluid plastered all over my face, now soaking through the blindfold.

When the weight on my face shifts, so they can catch their breath, you lie down beside me. Your sucking kisses demand nothing less than the cherished honey that I’ve kept in my mouth. Thirstily, you accept the gift through swirling tongues, losing half of it as it drools down our chins.

I can hear that you struggle with not bursting in enticing titter anew as you crawl to my member that is being held, helmet exposed with the skin peeled down. I feel a rivulet falling on it and more hands than I can count massage it into my skin. Soon, two of them from different people pump my rod and I can hear the sounds of sloppy canoodling and vocal expressions of mutual hunger being exchanged.

Before long, the locked lips envelop my glans, slurping my freely oozing pre-cum mixed with the snatch syrup and the added spit that crawls down to the base. Just as I open my mouth to express my pleasure, a fist clenches a handful of my hair and yanks my head to the side.

I stick out my tongue in an educated guess of what might come next. My eager hopes are rewarded with the spongy texture of a swollen cockhead sliding past my lips. Delightfully, I begin to suck on it—or try so anyway as having my own teased sends erratic jolts through my spine. Through my hums, the excitement vibrates in the schlong that now uses my mouth as a vulgar fuck hole, scoping out new depths of my throat while my curls still serve as a handle for a firm grip.

Before long, my mouth turns into a gargling mess of phlegm that paints my face with bubbly streaks every time the intruder withdraws from my mouth. In those moments, I try to sharpen my focus on the timing of my inhalations, which is rendered extremely difficult by the fingers moving in my ass. I can neither tell how many those are or who they belong to. I just lose myself in the prospect of having my butt used as a source of pleasure. Just when I hear the characteristic cracking of a plastic bottle cap, my mouth is freed from its intruder and my jaw is allowed a brief moment of rest.

The breather is very short since, immediately, I sense a pair of legs straddling me and a waft of the same bewitching female scent as before tantalizing my olfactory nerves anew. While I feel my backdoor being lubed up sensually, above me, there is another person placing themselves behind the first one. Hovering over my face, the heat radiating from chubby balls dangling just above me hits my cheeks.

A wailed affirmation tells me the prick just inches from my nose slowly glides into the impatient entrance that has, just minutes ago, baptized me with a monsoon of precipitated bliss. Lifting my head, I stick out my tongue to get a taste of the stiffness that slowly and deeply slides in and out of this welcoming sheath. I can’t help obscenely sponging up the copiously flowing fluids it seemingly bathes in, spreading them over the balls. With ardor, I trace the meaty labia that part with each thrust, exposing the erect nub that begs for attention.

I hiss in surprise when lips engulf my shaft anew, welcoming me in a warm, moist cavity that collapses with the suction and fills again with every voice-enhanced venture into its depths. Together with my prostate being played with, I turn into a squirming mess, hardly able to keep up with servicing the many mouths, hands and genitals drawing pleasure from me while keeping me in my blissful misery of orgasm denial.

Tears shoot into my eyes as I realize that my situation is, in any way of the expression, truly riveting. It is the certitude that an equal amount of pleasure is drawn from the pleasure given to me that appeases my self-conscious doubts and failure to see how I deserve such attention. With all my might, I talk myself into believing that I am, even in this situation, being used as a toy.

Before I can give in to the near-overwhelming urge to burst into tears of ecstasy, I feel the probing fingers vacate my ass, leaving only the sensation of greasy lube behind—and along with it, the frustration of unexpected emptiness. Strong arms lift my hips and a pair of thighs slide underneath mine, making me squeal in delightful anticipation of what’s coming. 

Carefully, something larger, thicker, warmer than fingers presses against my pucker, begging for entrance, and all too willingly my sphincter gives way to swallow the welcome intrusion. Whether it’s a toy or real flesh desecrating my rectum matters little at this moment, for it aids my quest for my personal release.

I cry in delightful bliss as the invasion of my ass deepens until I feel hips connecting with mine. The greed in my own loins stands up, straining against its skin that stretches to a painful tautness. My mouth falls agape, lost in the ardor of the moment as the dick above my face leaves its wet cave to land just on my face and along with it a few drops of the pure dew of raw fucking. Eagerly, I take it into my mouth again, barely able to suppress the sultry giggle from the idea of being spit-roasted like everyone's lewd little whore I am.

Lost in my little bubble of bliss, I don’t pay attention to your bewitching laughter as you position yourself over me to welcome my throbbing erection in your depths. Slowly, you descend on me, guiding my pole with your hand between your labia and slowly allowing me to penetrate you in sync with the leisurely, yet powerful thrusts that make my whole body quake.

In my mind, it must be a rather awkward and uncomfortable position for you to squat over me while I’m getting my ass properly pummeled. With a mouth full of dick and glucking sounds swallowing all protest in the freely flowing slime, I am in a poor position to raise concerns. Your salacious vocal obscenities testify to your enjoyment—the greatest sexual reward I could ever think of, regardless of my own needs and desires. 

It still puzzles me how you found out about a secret so personal that I am cautious enough to erase any trace of my personal ventures into the depths of free porn tube sites. More than this, it still amazes me that you would find me—stupid, little me—worthy of having his silly needs quenched.

My little excursion into self-reflection is interrupted when all three people using me leave me at once. Frustrated, I want to voice my disappointment as a large hand grabs a fistful of my hair and motions me to flip around. The far end of the bed is creaking with the mass of two people indulging in their own little scene while the hand in my hair is guiding me towards the said couple. My face comes to rest where your pussy bobs up and down on a truly impressive staff. Instinctively, I stick out my tongue, letting your clit brush over it every time, you plunge down on your intruder and your unmistakable scent is sprayed into the room, intoxicating my senses.

From behind me, a pair of softer legs than before straddle me and a now familiar pair of breasts brush the skin on my back as, again, a splitting sensation demands entrance into my ass. I push against the toy strapped to those hips, willingly inviting it into my insides.

The thrusts come surprisingly strong but it’s then that I realize they too are being fucked from behind. I am delightfully suffering the transmitted double-thrust that drives my whole body forward and my face into the genitals mashing arrhythmically to our movements, making it challenging for me to keep pleasing your button.

Before long, however, I read the telltale signs of your impending build-up into one of your demonic orgasms as you call them, inspired by the otherworldly gargling they elicit from your throat. Together with my oral teasing of the rod, you’re jumping on, your contractions send your partner over the edge in a staccato of screams in harmonious dissonance with your voice.

Encouraged by your hands pulling my face into your abused pussy, I hungrily lap up the mixture of white spunk and your nectar that seep out of the gaping hole. Your inflated vaginal lips, now tender and soft, are kissing me back as the blend of fluids spreads over them and glazes my face.

A near-crestfallen moan escapes my mouth as I feel the silicone cock leave my ass. You giggle delightedly from my voice resonating in your flesh. You tousle my hair as a tender display of affection, consoling me over the empty feeling in my rear, before gently pushing me back so you can turn around on all fours.

Passionately and yet tired, you kiss me, demanding to share the prize I hold in my mouth. Eagerly, you accept it in yours as I share it with you over tongues dancing in overheated zeal. Lost in our little moment, I willingly accept the renewed intrusion into my ass with delighted surprise. This time, I know it is a real cock penetrating me.

Again, fingers intertwine with my hair and yank my head up while the cracking echo of the thighs against my cheeks casts back from the room’s walls. Another hand wraps itself around my throat, constricting my larynx enough to make tears shoot into the corners of my eyes. Being held in this position, the scent of a dripping-hot cunt just inches away from my face floods my muzzle. Without a warning, it is being mashed into my face, grinding into it, seeking contact with the right spots on my nose and outstretched tongue.

Soon, it turns into a race toward a mutual climax between both ends that are using me. I want to encourage them but, given my predicament, I am limited to clenching my sphincter around the intruder, scooping up the fluids that are ruining my face, and expressing my own zest by humming and biting into the flesh presented to me.

It doesn’t take them long to find in me what they are looking for: a means to satisfy their needs using my body as a catalyst to their apogee—my most craved-after and intimate desire quenched in the searing heat of a moment through the starved touches of those turning me into their greedy little plaything.

Swimming in my own little dopamine soup, I notice with amusement that the throbs breeding my needy hole come synchronous with the spasms that waterboard me with cunt-dew, bringing me dangerously close to the brink of being overwhelmed with the sheer intensity of the sensations that explode in me. Just when my efforts in keeping my impending meltdown at bay threaten to become futile, I feel both my lovers let go of me and collapse into heaps of heaving flesh.

“No more,” I stammer, panting, with a meek voice, my energy spent, my use as their toy exhausted.

“Stand on your knees, darling,” I hear your joyous voice. “You did great and you have earned your release. Let me help you,” a loving lull in your voice that makes me obey without question.

As your slender hands massage my soreness, easing the withheld relief, I can’t help throwing my head back in near-unbearable ecstasy. Picturing you holding it pointing to your face, mouth open wide, presenting your tongue, I can’t hold it back any longer.

I don’t need to see it to know the streaks of cum fly across you. I feel it in my loins, in the intensity of the serotonin flood, in the way my body cramps up involuntarily. I hear it in your surprised giggles and in the satisfaction they carry.

When I cave to my tired, shaking body, my mind is a mess with no coherent thought. I barely register my surroundings anymore, just my own body fighting for breath and my thoughts in a desperate search for something to grasp onto. I lose all perception of time for a moment of unknown length. Mustering all my strength, I force myself back onto my knees, trying to support the better part of my weight on my hands on the soft mattress that gives way too easily for a secure hold.

As the blindfold comes off, I realize we’re alone in the hotel room again. Just you and me; me done, used, finished; you beaming at me with the most clement and loving smile I’ve ever seen on your face ornate with the pencil strokes of spunk I painted there.

Instinctively, I approach you slowly to lick your face clean. It is a moment of indescribable intimacy. I catch the dashes that are sticking to your neck and love washes over me as you hold me tight and hum, pleased with yourself. Kissing you on your lips, I feel how sore mine are against your soft pout.

When we part, a thread of my cum still connects our chins. I look at you, tired, my senses slowly coming back to me, the realization of what happened slowly dawning on me. I start giggling, laughing, guffawing like the happy little kid I feel like before deeper emotions roll over me. The realization that you did this for me, that you managed to turn the tables on me and make me indulge in acts serving solely the gratification of the person you love... Slowly, I start to comprehend how much you really cherish me and how, in all these years, it was me who never allowed you to show me this level of appreciation.

Gradually, my cackle turns into sobbing and uncontrollable tears roll down my cheeks over the realization of how far your love for me extends and that this whole act served only the purpose of showing me this. I fall into your tight embrace holding me close to you. I bawl like a little boy when the sweet nothings whispered into my ears encourage me to let go of the emotions and free my mind from the curse that has beset me all these years.