After the Conference Ch. 03

"Sheesh, Mitchell. You should at least let her take a breath!"

"Here," Roland stepped into her field of view. "You really should feel how she can take you."

She felt his hands, warm and gentle against her ribs, moving her, rearranging her. She'd had to let Mitchell's cock out of her mouth, and with it exited a small whimper. To the guests it sounded like her need to stay attached, but Roland suspected it was the beginning of her bedrock poking through.

"You're okay," he said gently into her ear, as she lay back. "You've wanted this all your life. You are a nasty, wicked slut, who's holes are trained for others' pleasure. Tell me what you are."

She swallowed, looking into his eyes, her head frozen, her body spread eagled on the floor. "I'm a fucking nasty whore, to be used by anyone for their pleasure. I'm a cunteating cocksucking slut."

He rolled her over, the stone rough and cool against her naked breasts and thighs. "Try it now, Mitchell. I think you'll be much happier."

She saw the man's feet facing her. He knelt over her head, the sight and smell of his naked thighs sending a warm flush down her spine. "Fuck my throat, fuck my throat, fudffamth." He slipped his cock into her mouth, adjusting her head to open her neck.

She could feel an orgasm building, even though she knew that couldn't be possible. His thick shaft moved past her tongue and slid into her open throat. This she knew how to do, how to suppress the gagging, how to milk his seed into her. She relaxed into her old groove, letting him into her groove, feeling his rhythm move through her body, happy she was giving him pleasure.

She felt hands pulling her feet apart and wanted nothing more than to rotate her ass to make her cunt easier to enter, but she was locked in place. Somewhere, deep inside her, she could hear the buzz of voices, some panicked, some sneering, but it was only a faint wisp of emotion, a swarm of bees, too far down to matter.

Her throat pinned on the man's thick cock, her body immobilized to the floor, she was both powerless and liberated. She had been released from all responsibility for her actions – she truly was reduced to a set of holes for others to enjoy. The thought flooded through her, even as she felt her cunt being peeled apart, being prepared for another stranger's cock.

"Hold on there Freddie. I think...hell...how are we going to do this?" Roland's voice came from behind her, the fingers on her open pussy stopped. "Sorry Mitchell. You okay if we move her a bit?"

She heard Mitchell grunt, knowing he was close, but he pulled out, a string of drool following his swollen head across her lips. She gasped for breath and returned to her pleas to fuck her throat.

Moments later she was picked up by the hips and shoulders, her breasts hanging down, and she saw the woman who wasn't Georgia...Lilly? lying naked on the floor, a large strap-on sticking out from her vagina. She could sense her eyes widening and her voice changed tone, but she didn't stop her demands to be fucked.

"Fuckmycunt, fuckmyass, fuck my cunt, fuck my ass!"

They set her down on Lilly, the warmth and smoothness of her skin adding to her arousal and then she felt Lilly's hands on her ribs, moving her back slowly until the strap-on was entering her. Slowly, so slowly she was impaled on it until she felt it pushing against her.

"Now, my little fuck-toy, let's see how this goes." Lilly began doing something with her hips and hands, moving her onto the strap on and off, moving it in and out of her own pussy, leaving it buried in Madeleine.

"May I, Roland?"

Mitchell's feet appeared and she opened her mouth and throat to accept his cock as it slid across her nose. She moaned around it, feeling fulfilled, and filled, like she had always wanted. Like the voice had told her. The orgasm that had been building suddenly went over the top and she squirted liquid over the strap-on.

"My god, Roland," Lilly shrieked in surprise. "She's just squirted on me! Fucking amazing."

And then more fingers, with something cold and wet, spreading her buns apart, exposing her hole. She couldn't protest, she couldn't stop it, but she'd never done it there before. She grunted onto Mitchell's cock, feeling it swelling and knowing it was about to explode in her throat.

"I've been waiting for this for two days. So, fucking perfect."

She felt the cock pushing against her tight ring but could only groan. Lilly's strap on continued to plow into her and as the cock entered her virgin ass, Mitchell shoved against her face, his cum bursting into her throat.

"Sweet Jesus!" He yelled to the room and held himself against her, throbbing and pulsing.

* - * - *

"Jeez, Roland. What are you going to do with her?"

They had left her lying in puddles of cum and drool, staring at the floor and continuing to beg to be fucked in her holes. They'd all taken turns until the men couldn't get hard anymore and the women were done.

"The night is young, right? Let's get the game going and we can refresh ourselves as necessary."

"No, I mean, afterward. Is she...I mean...what's your plan?"

He smiled and ushered them out of the room. All of them had removed whatever clothes were left and took seats around the card table. Roland brought a tray of snacks and a pitcher of Margaritas. He shrugged as if to suggest it was a trivial concern.

"She has a flight out of here back home tomorrow. I'll make sure she gets on it. Then," he paused and shrugged again. "Perhaps we can help her long distance."

"You are such an asshole!" Lilly took the pitcher and poured herself a drink, her small breasts still pink from her exertions.

"It'll be fun. She'll appreciate it. Believe me."

* - * - * - *

Madeleine found her seat and put her things in the overhead, relieved she was finally heading home. She was so exhausted and a little concerned about her health. She'd woken up at Roland's, no surprise there, and when she went to the bathroom saw so much more than pee come out of her. We hadn't done it that much last night, had we? That, and some stinging in her backside made her think she might be getting a bladder infection. She hated bladder infections.

Just in case, she had purchased a small package of panty liners and felt the cotton padding pushing against her lips.

She tried to remember details from the party, the card game, but couldn't recall more than a pleasant memory of sitting in the hot tub. She could remember their names, Lilly, Mitchell, Georgia, and Freddie, but no details. Her hand shot to her mouth in alarm as a thought occurred to her: did she fuck them all? Oh stop it, you idiot. That's just a fantasy. You wish!

As the attendants began their pre-flight checklist, she felt her phone vibrate and pulled it out of her pocket to see who was messaging.

You can cum back anytime, M. Anytime. R.

As she read the words, she felt an orgasm building and crashing through her, making her moan and sending a flood of juice into her panties. She covered her mouth and looked out the window, struggling to not let anyone know. Shit! What the fuck was that? She gripped the seat arms and waited for the spasms to pass, hoping she wasn't calling attention to herself. She knew her aroma would fill the plane but she was trapped in the window seat. Images of getting up, pushing her ass into her neighbor's face to get to the bathroom didn't help, driving another spasm and another flood of moisture. No...gawd...not now....oh, oh oh! OH! As it finally passed, the liner and her panties soaked through, it was only a matter of moments before her jeans would show a spot. She reached up to turn on the air jet, hoping to dilute whatever fragrance was bound to come out.

But in spite of the humiliation and embarrassment, and the sheer weirdness of what just happened, she felt a sense of warmth and pride. She couldn't imagine why, even as her cum seeped down her legs. What the fuck is wrong with me? But that thought quickly evaporated, replaced by another she found far more pleasant. When will I cum back?