tagFetishBukkake Diaries 2: Depraved Mercy

Bukkake Diaries 2: Depraved Mercy

byNomDeClavier©

It had been a week since my first bukkake had left me cum-covered and aware of what I slut I had always been. I swooned for more. Elise had dropped me at home the next day with a closet-full of new clothes and another plain white business card listing an address and date.

I taped the card to my bedroom mirror and spent the week horny and dysfunctional. I counted down the days in agony. Throughout the week I tried on different outfits that Elise had bought me: elegantly professional but revealing skirt ensembles; a couple of slutty school girl options; designer jeans and tops for clubbing; over-the-top stripper heels with fence-net thigh highs and impractically strappy bras and thongs; and even a sexy ultra short lab-coat style dress. I was still getting used to my new-found sluttiness and loved playing with different looks. Every so often I'd catch myself in the mirror and get turned on just like I would watching the porn stars I had always admired. Even though I had skipped a couple classes that week, I still didn't make it through all my new clothes.

I also spent a lot more time masturbating than usual--like a lot more. It got out of control. Each night I'd ride my plug-in vibrator until I couldn't take it anymore and fell asleep. I don't remember sleeping through the night at all that week, though. I dreamt of my first bukkake experience but the images blended with my favorite porn scenes. I'd see myself from the third person, layered with jizz and stuffed with throbbing cocks in all my holes. I would recurringly see my pussy gaping wide and oozing what seemed like impossible amounts of cum, gushing onto the bed beneath me. I'd wake up sweating and writhing under the sheets, usually with a few fingers buried deep inside my soaking pussy. Eventually, I'd fall back asleep. But by morning, I'd be just as much in need and end up buzzing my clit for half an hour. Then, I'd finger myself some more in the shower. Then, I'd rub myself through damp jeans while driving to classes. Then, I'd hide in bathroom stalls furiously pounding my cunt with my fingers or whatever else I had in my purse that might work. I started wearing more skirts and carrying a pocket vibrator with me at all times.

The card was always on my mind. I had looked up the address on the internet. The location again was in a rough and nearly empty part of the city. It was an old high school building that I learned had been abandoned for decades when the adjacent neighborhood had been demolished to make way for a freeway and industrial complex. Elise's clients apparently got hot by that sort of setting as much as I did. Despite having found all this out, I quickly realized that the card didn't give a time. I wondered if Elise had just forgotten, but then thought perhaps this omission had some purpose--a test of some kind, or a way to give me choice and make me complicit in what would happen to me.

The date on the card finally arrived and fell mid-week on a day when I had a heavy schedule of classes. I figured I would go at night since I figured everyone involved would have some sort of life, too. I missed half my first lecture, though, masturbating in the shower and freaking out about what to wear to class. When I got to class, I clumsily stumbled into an empty row of seats in the back of the auditorium. The professor kept lecturing, but gave me a dirty look over the heads of my classmates. My next class went no better. I made it in time despite a detour to a bathroom stall. Midway through class, however, I could not calm down enough to focus. I continued to become more aroused and crossed my legs firmly when I realized my snatch had soaked through my panties and had started to run down my thighs. I felt a little twinge of regret for having worn a mesh thong and pleated skirt at that moment, especially when I was called on to discuss the reading. I babbled like a moron before the grad student instructor mercifully let me off the hook. I decided I was in no shape to make it through the day after that, so I went home to change and get on with whatever was going to happen.

After realizing that the address was a school building, I took the hint and picked out an outfit. The naughty school-girl look was an obvious choice. I pulled on a clean black mesh thong, a plaid pleated skirt that hung exactly at the bottom fold of my ass, and a pair of over-the knee-high socks. I tied off a white blouse underneath my tits, just tight enough to give me some cleavage, but loose enough that I was almost popping out. I went without a bra. I wore my lipstick bright red and let my straight brown hair fall in loose tresses around my shoulders. Once I was ready, I pulled on a pair of vintage round-toed black patent leather 5" heels and a long coat before stepping out the door.

After the last time, I knew I couldn't safely drive myself there and back, so I called a cab. The cabbie was in his mid-thirties with a salt and pepper beard. He was surprisingly fit for someone who drove all day. He eyed my legs through the window as I approached the car with an appreciative look in his eyes. When I told him where I was going, he raised an eyebrow and asked, "you sure, hon?"

Impatiently I replied, "yeah, yeah, don't worry about it. I know where I'm going," even though this was only partly true. I made a mental note to figure out something more discrete than a cab for next time.

The weather was clear and sunny, so he left the windows down. The breeze seemed to find its way right under my coat and up my skirt as I sat in the back seat. The slightly cool air blowing against my already swollen pussy didn't help me concentrate on the route. Luckily, the cabbie knew where he was going and took the freeway. We got there quickly and without any hassle.

I left him with a big tip, mostly because I've never been able to do multiplication with a sopping pussy. As I got out of the car, he asked again, this time a little more concerned, if this was really where I wanted to go.

"Oh sure," I replied, "it's for an... art project. I'll be fine." He shrugged and drove off, leaving me to wonder why I felt it necessary to allay his concern.

When he drove away I could feel the emptiness in that part of the city. A few derelict store fronts lined the street, but the only human presence were naked sun-faded mannequins haunting the broken shop windows. I was surprised no one had taken them. At first glance, the school building looked in no better shape. But as I walked towards the front door I noticed not a single broken window. The windows actually looked well-maintained. I also noticed several that were painted black from the inside.

I tried to open the front doors but they were firmly locked. I saw a door buzzer on the jamb, though, and pressed it. A few nervous minutes passed while I scanned the street behind me, wondering whether I was safe. Then, a voice came over the intercom.

"Hey there," said a female voice, "I recognize you! I wondered when you'd show up." I looked around for a camera and sure enough saw a black half-orb on the wall above the door.

I looked at my cell phone, which showed 3:30 p.m., and spoke back, "um... yeah. So I think this is where Elise wanted me to show up. Can I come in?"

"Oh, of course this is where you're supposed to be! Let me buzz you in, Jane. Wait for me in the foyer." I still couldn't place the voice.

I stepped into the foyer and saw that I'd need to wait since there was a second heavy institutional steel door, which was locked. The glass and chicken-wire window in the door was blacked-out like the windows I had seen outside. I waited anxiously until the door cracked open and through it stepped the red-haired shop girl, but it took me a moment to recognize her. She had seen me debase myself in the porn shop the week before, even cheered me on. The last time I saw her, she dressed casually, in nothing that really stood out in my memory. This time, I couldn't forget what she wore.

She looked like a 19th century brothel madame who could double as a vaudeville emcee, but still modern. She looked steampunk. A sumptuous burgundy velvet corset with black piping exaggerated her curves, pushing her tits, which were similar to mine in size, up to her collar bone. Garters extended from the bottom of the corset over a matching thong to hold up a pair of black fishnet thigh-highs that extended only a few inches from the tops of 6" heeled black leather boots. She wore her make-up dark, with heavy black eye shadow, deep crimson-black lipstick, and almost white foundation on top of her already pale skin. Her red hair gathered underneath a black velvet top-hat. She winked when she saw me and I nearly melted to the floor.

"Hey there," she chatted flirtatiously, "I think we can do without that coat, can't we?"

I dropped the coat to the floor.

"That's better... My, my, don't you look almost innocent," she cooed sweetly, "but we both know that's just a front, don't we?" She winked again.

I stood speechlessly, once again soaking between my legs. I felt goosebumps on my bare ass and upper thighs above my socks. I tried to process the entire set-up, wondering who exactly were Elise's clients. The whole situation started to feel elaborate beyond my understanding.

While I stood there, frozen, the shop girl circled behind me and lifted my skirt with a riding crop she had been hiding behind her back. She stroked the leather of the crop against my bare ass, tracing it over my curves, between my ass cheeks, over my thong, and between my dampening inner thighs. Then she patted it sharply against my swollen and soaking pussy, pressing on the mesh of my thong which bit into my most sensitive skin. I gasped slightly, but tried to maintain my composure. The shop girl pulled the riding crop from between my legs and licked it like a lollypop.

"...that's just what I had thought," she said in a breathy voice while she licked.

I was paralyzed with lust.

"Follow me, cunt. It's time to get you set up," she said, with a strictness that startled me given her seemingly bubbly personality. She lead me through the door.

The other side of the door was a darkened institutional hallway, lit with red paper lanterns rather than the usual florescent box lights. The building had once housed a large urban public high school, but now it felt huge and cavernously empty. Through some of the windowed-doors I could see chaotically abandoned classrooms with overturned desks, cracked chalkboards, and a thick layer of dust. Other doors had blackened windows, however, which accounted for at least half the rooms in the building. As we walked, passing blacked-out window after blacked-out window, a chill ran down my spine. I knew I would end up in one of those rooms.

We wound our way through the labyrinthine halls towards the center of the building where I learned that I was right. Two red paper lanterns glowed next to a double door with blackened windows. The shop girl opened them and lead me through.

We entered what looked like it had been a large orchestra practice room, with tiered risers. Everything had been refurbished and painted a matte black. The risers rose in a semi-circle around a depressed area in the floor where a conductor would normally have stood. But no conductor could have stood there. Instead, a 6' tall wooden 4-by-4 post with hooks placed at varying heights occupied the space. I could see similar hook-in spots on the floor near the post. It looked as if large cushions made for seating on the risers, though I could barely see in the dim light of red lanterns and bare candles.

The shop girl took a collar along with a pair of wrist and ankle cuffs from a side table. She held them in front of me by their short attached chains and said in a playful and persuasive tone, "You'll need to wear these, alright?"

I nodded in passive agreement, knowing that, like before, I could not resist. The shop girl went about confining my throat, wrists, and ankles in stiff leather before leading me to the wooden post by the leash attached to my collar. She locked my wrists and the chain-leash at about my head level. She positioned my ankles several feet from the post so that my back arched as much as possible and then spread my legs wide. She then took what I recognized from my porn surfing to be a spreader bar from the side table, which she attached between my ankles and hooked-in to the floor. I hung from my wrists, vulnerable and strained, in a fully lordotic posture, with my ass presented and only half covered by my plaid skirt.

The shop girl then leaned over me from behind. The velvet of her corset teased my exposed lower back between my blouse and skirt. She firmly pressed the front of her velvet thong against my nearly bare ass while she tied a cloth blindfold tightly around my eyes, turning everything to black. When she finished, she leaned in closer and ran her tongue along the outside of my ear. She bit my ear lobe lightly and then whispered, "Oh, and by the way Jane, you can call me Mercy."

Mercy backed away and rapped her riding crop across the flesh of my exposed bottom. Then, she lifted my thong and I felt a slick pressure against my puckered asshole. I winced and bit my lip, struggling not to cry out for some instinctive reason. I had had some anal experience, mostly masturbating, which helped me quickly adjust to take the thick bulb of a butt plug. My nipples hardened and I shivered, feeling more sexually vulnerable than ever. Mercy snapped my thong back down on the butt plug and then I listened to the sound of her heels striking the floor as she walked away without another word. The sound grew increasingly distant until I heard the door open and close. I was alone.

***

A long time passed, but I couldn't tell how long. When my joints felt stiff from holding the same position I would stretch and flex my muscles while breathing deeply like I had learned in yoga class. Occasionally I would shiver since the room was just a hair chillier than the ideal temperature for bearing so much skin. It was straining but I knew physically that I could maintain my position, bent at the waist with my arms and spread feet restrained, for hours if I remained focused. Luckily, I didn't have to wait quite that long. Eventually I heard the door open again.

Instead of the staccato of Mercy's heels, this time I heard the shuffling feet of a crowd. The crowd was otherwise eerily silent. No one talked or laughed or anything. I could only hear an uncountable number of feet surrounding me on what sounded like the risers of the former orchestra rehearsal room. I shivered more, now, but not because of the cold. All the added bodies warmed the room by a few degrees pretty quickly, actually. Instead, the realization that I stood bound, with the goosebumped flesh of my ass exposed, and helpless in front of an immeasurable crowd--at least based on what I could hear--sent chills down my spine. It also flushed my pussy with heat and wetness.

My mind raced and heart pounded, much like when I first entered the packed adult theater a week ago. My hormones ran so rampant that I almost missed that the room had gone silent except for the sound of Mercy's voice.

"Welcome, everyone," I heard her speak in an almost theatrical tone, "it's wonderful to see you all back after such a long time. We've had some... staffing difficulties, it's true. But what we have tonight I promise will make up for the hiatus. For those of you newcomers out there, you couldn't have a better first night with us."

I heard a few scattered cheers, all men's voices. My breath grew heavy.

"Some of you might recognize this sweet thing," Mercy continued with a thwack of her riding crop on my bottom, making the butt plug throb a little. "In fact, some of you put her through a little test run last week. Most of you have probably seen the video by now. I'm sure you agree that she made a terrific first impression," Mercy laughed with an insinuating tone in her voice, "didn't you Jane?"

Mercy petted my sopping cunt with her riding crop and gave it a love tap. I heard more applause, which this time was less scattered.

Mercy went on, "Based on that little... let's say... practice session, as well as Elise's profile, I can assure you all that we've never brought in a more pure, natural, devoted cumbucket."

The last word hit me in my lungs: cumbucket. To hear Mercy use it with a well-practiced and authoritarian voice made it feel official, weighty, inescapable. I started to feel as if I were bound by something even stronger than my physical restraints.

"She probably doesn't know it yet as well as we do, but Jane is the real deal. She is a built spermslut. The core of her sexual being craves it painfully, but even after last week Elise and I don't think she's realized how deep it runs. She'll find out tonight," Mercy said with a laugh.

The guys cheered again.

"So let me remind you of a few ground rules: Newcomers cum first, so if this is your first night with us you'll want to make your way to the front... like now," Mercy giggled suggestively and then said, "For the rest of you, we have fluffers to get you started. Be sure to show them your appreciation, but finishing in or on a fluffer will get you kicked out, no exceptions... you know who you are, so behave yourself."

A couple of knowing laughs and jeers erupted around the crowd.

"Otherwise, this slut wants desperately to be here. You guys should see what her cute little snatch has done to the end of my riding crop," I heard more laughter at this, "so the last big rule is: Make sure she finds out what she is before this over."

The crowd applauded as Mercy finished. She gave my ass a stroke, lifting my thong slightly so she could tug the butt plug out with one lubricated pull. I winced and whimpered quietly, equally from pleasure and pain. Once again I heard her heels clack on the floor as she left me, but this time I couldn't tell if she left the room. The crowd had begun to move.

***

Two thick calloused hands spread my asscheeks while tugging at my panties. They dragged my panties down my hips and across my skin, thumbs hooked into the waistband and palms spread against my body. The fabric grew tighter and tighter as my thong slid around my spread legs, cutting into my flesh. Then I felt the muscled hands rip and tear the mesh thong, rending it in two as the elastic snapped painfully against me. The hands climbed back up my legs, quickly gripping my asscheeks with fingers dug-in. A thumb probed my slippery asshole and dove in, hooking me from the inside. Then, I felt the hands' owner pull me back until his veiny bare cock pounded into my sopping cunt up to the hilt.

I groaned out loud with a gaping mouth only to find it stuffed with another dick, obviously anxious, shaved, and salty with a copious covering of precum. His frantic, urgent thrusts gave the impression that he had been near cumming for a while. It occurred that he was probably a newcomer, more or less like me, with raging hormones and a racing heart. It made me hot. Sure enough, jizz spurted into my throat within a few seconds, flooding my mouth with a desperately sexual and familiar taste: briny, musky, bitter, but a little sweet. He shoved deeper and pulsed warm streams of cum into my throat, which I swallowed hungrily. Saliva ran down my chin when he pulled out.

He wiped spit and remnants of semen across my upturned cheek while I heard myself pleading for more cum from the unseen crowd. Feelings like satisfaction, humiliation, and sluttishness welled from my core.

"Please, oh god please, I need more, you have no idea how much I need it," I begged with the pungent taste of cum on my tongue and emanating from my belly. The crowd cheered. Another cock stuffed my mouth as the last words left it.

The thick pair of hands on my butt gripped tighter and the hooked thumb in my asshole pulled me back on the cock inside me. I felt throbbing against my cervix as the veiny shaft loaded my pussy with ounce after ounce of semen. Rivulets of cum seeped from my gaping labia and ran down my thighs while an orgasm trembled through my body.

Report Story

byNomDeClavier© 20 comments/ 118552 views/ 54 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

Next
2 Pages:12

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar:

   Cancel