Suburban Sex Club Ch. 07

With my mouth now empty, I was able to breathe better and my chest quieted down even though my tits continued to be vertically stretched. I wondered at that—the person that kept them pulled up must have taken some effort to do so for such a long time (I later found out it was fixed to a ceiling mounted pulley that someone was jerking occasionally to stimulate me even more). For a few seconds, maybe minutes, I relaxed. There were no hands on my body.

For the first time, I realized that there was music in the room—a pulse pounding, bass-heavy techno beat coming through hidden speakers. The strap that held the ring gag around my head was loosened and taken off and I was able to swallow the saliva and cum mixture in my mouth. I licked my lips, slurped. Salty, with a slight garlicky tinge, not unpleasant. A flavor like the smell of the earth after rain on a hot day. My throat felt a little scratchy and sore, like when you're coming down with a cold. All that cock-sucking, both voluntary and involuntary I mused.

Someone was talking on the phone in low tones somewhere to my left. I thought I heard the word 'pepperoni' mentioned. Something struck my cheek and I turned to it like an infant seeking a nipple. It was a straw. I sucked greedily. Some kind of alcohol, probably a vodka/lime mix, maybe a margarita—my favorite. I reflected that these people, whoever they were that Akash had hooked up with certainly knew how to lay out a spread.

The drink and the murmured word reminded me, where was the food, the pizza that Akash had promised? My stomach rumbled and despite the liquid nourishments I had received—both drinks I'd drunk had been sweet, so a fair amount of sugar. Good for some quick energy, like carb loading before a game. Since my mouth was now unencumbered, I thought I might as well ask about the food.

"Sir?" I was going to say Akash, but remembered just in time that I was still in sub mode. There was no answer.

I felt the room slowly empty. It was more a sense of empty space expanding and increasing coolness on my skin than anything tangible—like doors slamming or receding footsteps. I was still feeling very comfortable, a little tired form all the orgasms. I am sure I had a huge grin plastered on my face as I remembered the mind-blowing orgasms I had experienced that evening.

Someone released my hands, then my tits were released from their slightly uncomfortable stretching. The nipple clamps remained though. A moist, soft warm cloth started wiping me down. I moved my arms to my sides, and my hand brushed an arm—soft and feminine. It was a woman wiping me down I realized. She was tender about it and the water or lotion or whatever she had in the cloth was making my skin tingle and feel clean and renewed. She spent an inordinate amount of time between my legs, softly wiping, stroking, separating my butt cheeks until I was almost ready to go again. This woman definitely knew how to stoke my engine, I thought, lube my pipes and whatnot! My legs were then released and for the first time in what I thought was well over an hour, I was able to close my legs. I rubbed my legs together, trying to stimulate my pussy, the feeling was so pleasurable—I loved the feeling of the sexy afterglow of recent orgasm mixed with the tingle and anticipation of many more to come. It was as though I had developed an itch in my pussy—in fact my entire body was aching to be used, and used hard. Had I become a total slut in the space of just a few hours?

"Cunt!"

Akash was behind me. My blindfold was removed and I slowly squinted my eyes open. I lay there blinking, my legs still widely open, all my relevant parts still easily and fully accessible. The lighting was subdued and I found that it did not hurt my eyes much—I was able to acclimate in just a few seconds. It looked like I was in large space, maybe eight foot drop ceiling with acoustic tile, dark, fabric covered walls. The table I was on was upholstered in a sumptuous leather or some sort of soft vinyl with movable and adjustable sections—like something you might see at a gynecologist's office. The restraints were padded, with velcro at the ends for easy removal. The place looked like some kind of dungeon. There were hooks and pulleys on the walls and ceiling (the chain between my tits had clearly been hooked to the one over my body), and there were some other contraptions around—pushed up against the wall—that I did not recognize. The table I was on was in the center of the space, like a operating table. There were several lights I could see, all angled in different directions but they were all turned off. I supposed these were to focus on different body parts as their fancy took them. I took all this in during the brief seconds after my vision adjusted to the darkness.

I also saw the woman that was ministering to me. There were actually two women, both garbed strangely—tight shiny shirts and pants made of some vinyl type material I thought, but the important parts—over the breasts and groin—had been cut out. Maybe they had ben designed that way because it did not look like an amateur effort. One of them had large pale tits with dark nipples and areola with metal rings in the nipples. The other woman's breasts were smaller, but still larger than a C cup, probably smaller than mine and probably enhanced I thought. The second woman's skin tone was slightly darker—Indian? African American? They both wore small masks that covered their eyes and part of their noses. Red lipstick, now heavily smudged. There was no one else I could see in my field of vision. Before I could think or say any more, Akash spoke.

"Cunt, you said you were hungry...well, you need to earn your keep if you want to eat." That confused me. What did he expect me to do? I thought I heard one of the women snigger.

"This is what will happen," he continued. "The pizza guy will be coming in a few minutes. You will go upstairs and take the pizza from him and pay him. Here is some money—it is exactly the amount owed him for the pizzas. You will be responsible for the tip."

Was I supposed to suck the pizza guy or let him fuck me? Really? The thought excited me more than it should probably have, but then this evening had been totally something out of a fantasy story.

"Sir..." I said, unsure, and started to rise.

"Wait," he said and moved into my field of vision. He was wearing a mask similar to the women although each mask was slightly different. His covered the nose with a beak-like protuberance. I knew it was him from his voice of course. He was dressed in a pair of crotchless black leather pants, his dick standing at half mast, balls hanging low. I felt a sudden urge to go down on my knees and slurp him in, make him hard and have him fuck me. He motioned to the two women and they picked up something each from one of the shelves that lined the far end of the room and returned.

"You need to be properly attired," he said. He parted my legs and I gave him no resistance. One of the women applied some cool lube to my ass and inserted the butt plug again. Wait, I thought. It seemed smaller and different shaped. It was hard to figure this out without actually handling it and trying to figure out the size and shape of an object based on how it felt in the ass is probably inaccurate. Then the other woman inserted what felt like a small dildo in my cunt. Part of it projected out and was secured by a thin strap around my waist, velcro again. I felt full, but not remarkably so—the butt plug was smaller than the one before and the dildo smaller than even Akash's cock, so I was in no discomfort. The sensations of being doubly penetrated were delicious, however. If you've never tried it, you should. Especially when you walk about.

They helped me up and I sat. The table was just a little higher than my feet would reach and I hopped off. My legs felt a little wobbly but I soon mastered it. The floor felt soft, rubbery beneath my feet. I realized then that the walls and floor, indeed the whole room was soundproofed.

"Sir," I said, bolstering up some courage. "This pizza guy...am I supposed to, um..."

"Yes," he said harshly. "All your holes are to be made available to him. They are equal opportunity holes as I see them." He pointed to a pair of high heels with about a three inch stiletto and I recognized them as mine. I just didn't wear them that often—I was tall for an Indian girl, 5'6" and I almost towered over Akash if I wore heels even though he wasn't short or anything, 5'10". Then he brought something out from behind him that made me really happy and slutty at the same time. A mask, similar to what he and the women had on. This would guarantee, well, at least ensure anonymity to some degree and sort of freed me from conventions of society. Free to indulge the slut in me I thought. When the pizza guy showed up, I would have no compunctions about giving him a blow job or letting him fuck me or anything.

I stepped into my heels and the initial uneven-ness of my balance made the two plugs in my cunt and ass move deliciously, rubbing together deep inside me, separated by a mere thin wall of tissue, filling me up and keeping me on edge. I felt like such a slut as I put the mask on and fastened the mask behind my head. I put my hand down to adjust the dildo in place and found the shape of the device actually held it in—it wouldn't accidentally fall out. I also realized that it had a small rubbery flange that went over my clitoris. Hmm, I thought, I wonder what that's for. As it turned out, I did not have to wait too long.

Akash walked me up the stairs, holding me by the arm, my gold chain clinking against the silver chain connecting my nipples, sometimes snagging and slightly pulling my nipples. The plugs in my nether holes shifted with every stair and my arousal increased. I could smell myself as I slowly climber the carpeted staircase in my heels.

We entered a small hall at the top of the stairs and some of it seemed familiar but I put it down to the general uniformity of construction—cookie-cutter suburban housing. I was escorted into a larger area that might qualify as a formal living room or drawing room as we called them in India. The room was mostly bare, not even a sofa-set (couches). Just one padded chair facing the front door. Akash sat me down on it and told me to wait for the pizza man. I sat clutching the money he had given me and waited. My weight made the butt plug penetrate me deeper and press up against the cunt-plug more and I was leaking like crazy. Just thinking about the situation was making me horny as hell. I looked around—the room was mostly dark except for a floor standing lamp in the corner. The walls had a few insipid looking pieces of framed art—Pier 1 imports? Marshalls? There was a rug on the wood floor, a generic floral that could have come from a hundred stores. The sidelights by the front door were covered with a gauzy curtain and I could not see much outside. Oh, there was one, rather two other things—two tripod mounted video cameras with cords trailing from them, red lights blinking, HD models from their looks. Both were aimed at the middle of the room. By triangulation, I figured they were aimed to catch any action between the front door and where I sat—the rug was probably the sweet spot.

I sat there thinking about the evening, about the experiences I had already had and what was to come. Hopefully I would get fucked at some point—so far the only penetration I'd had in my pussy was by the dildo that resided there. No cock in there yet. God, I wished the pizza guy would get here soon, maybe I could get him to fuck me. In the cunt...if not in the ass. Wait, I thought. Was it ok to take the plugs out? Akash had not said anything specifically about that, but he had said that all the holes were equal opportunity. Or was it affirmative action? Something like that. I figured if the pizza guy wanted to fuck me, I would just let him.

About five minutes later car headlights lit up the room so bright that I had to close my eyes and then the bell rang. I stood nervously, the hand clutching the money felt damp with perspiration. I realized I had been standing there in trepidation when the bell rang a second time. I walked across the rug, then the wood floor to the door, heels clacking on the wood. I stood behind the door and pulled it open and peeked out, not just because I was naked, but also because I didn't want to get exposed to a sudden gust of chill wind.

There was a guy standing there with several pizza boxes stacked in his arms that I couldn't see his face.

"Thanks," he said and pushed the door open with his foot. Since I wasn't expecting that, the door sort of slipped out of my hand and opened wide. A sudden gust of cold hit me and I gasped.

"Come in quick," I said and practically pulled him in.

He entered, stomping the snow from his shoes and wiping them on the entry mat as I closed the door.

"Where should I put them down ma'am?" He still hadn't seen me, the stack of pizza boxes was too high. I cast about, looking for a surface to set the boxes down. Somewhere in my mind, I thought, so many pizzas? How many people were here? I counted at least six boxes of pizza, so...

"Set them down by the lamp there," I said, "we don't have our furniture in just yet..." I felt the need to improvise an explanation for the lack of any furniture and I couldn't see the kitchen from here. Besides, I wasn't sure I was supposed to move from the area. The guy moved toward the only light source in the room, bent and set the boxes on the floor.

"That'll be forty—" he said straightening up. His mouth fell open as he took in my appearance. He squinted a little and moved closet to as if to make sure I wasn't wearing a body suit or something.

I thrust my hand with the money at him. "Here's money for the pi...pizza." I was stammering. I moved closer to the light, letting him see me better. "There's no tip in the..the...there. I'm the tip."

He stood looking at me, mouth still hanging open. He was a well built man in a generic pizza boy cap and some sort of uniform, but his features were wreathed in shadow.

His breath seemed to come in rough rasps like a file working on wood. He cleared his throat several times, turned his cap around backwards, then forwards, never taking his eyes off me. I could not see his eyes, but I am sure he was vision-fucking me like crazy.

"Holy fuckin' Jesus," he finally said. Definitely an American accent.

Finally I had something from him that made me feel I was getting through to him. I suddenly felt empowered, a sexual goddess. I struck a pose for him, one hand on my hip, ass out, lips puckered in a smooch. He gasped.

"I can touch?" he said pointing a finger at the silver chain between my tits.

"This is all for you to play with baby," I said hamming it up a little. "This," I indicated my whole body with both hands, "is your tip."

He touched the chain tentatively and then pulled back.

"I won't bite," I said in what I hoped was a seductive, sexy voice. "But I might lick."

He touched the chain, then pulled it. My nipples stood out, stretched by the movement and I threw mack my head and moaned, deep and loud. He pulled again and I moaned louder.

Then something happened down there—in the nether lands. At first it felt like the vibration of a cell phone, you know—like when a text comes in, a quick buzz, maybe a high-low buzz. But it was centered on my clit. The piece of plastic over there finally had a purpose. So the second moan was louder and not just because my nipples were being pulled.

Then the clit vibe started buzzing continuously, rising up and down like a wave motion and I started wriggling my hips in pleasure. I am sure the pizza guy thought he was having that effect on me and he redoubled his efforts on my tits. He dropped the chain and started mauling my breasts with both hands, handling the nipples—compressed as they were—with his thumb and forefinger, pulling them out, releasing them and chucking with pleasure at the way they settled back on my boobs.

"You want me to suck you?" I gasped. "Or," I said hopefully, "You can fuck me—cunt or ass, your choice."

Then he moved out of the light a little so that when he looked down, he could see my lower body. As he did, the dildo in my cunt started up and simultaneously by butt plug started buzzing. It was as though his look had started them up, as though he had electric power in his eyes. I was sure Akash or someone else had a remote control they were using to torment me. Ah, but such sweet torment. He put his hand down to feel the plugs and chuckled again. His fingers pushed the plastic harder against my clit, the vibration more intense. I squirmed in pleasure, the vibrations were all different—different in frequency, different in the way they went up and down in strength and they also came together and then went apart in different rhythms, and my body simply could not adjust to them. Oh fuck, I thought, this is going to drive me mad.

I decided for the pizza guy. Still wriggling my ass like an eel, I dropped to the floor and fumbled at his zipper. He helped me tug it down, and I fished his cock out. It was stiff as a poker (get it? Poke-her) and I slurped at it eagerly. There was something familiar about the cock, maybe the feel, the smell or the texture, but I could not put my finger on it. Or perhaps it was the big belly that stuck out a little. Using lots of tongue, I laved the head of his cock, then went up and down the shaft as though painting it. Several coats of paint, then I took his balls in my mouth, one at a time, then both. He groaned, deep, guttural.

My left hand dropped between my legs and pressed the plastic dildo deeper, harder into my clit and cunt, writihng in exquisite titillation. The buzzing was strong enough for me to be terribly aroused and I thought I could get off one more time if I pressed hard enough. Then the buzzing stopped—first the clit, then the cunt vibe and finally the ass. I moaned around his cock in frustration as the vibrators stopped, my fingers scrabbling around the plastic to get to my liquid core, and then the idea hit me. Maybe I wasn't supposed to touch myself. To test my theory, I moved my hands away from mine to his groin, caressing, rubbing fondling his balls while he used my mouth as a cunt. Sure enough, the clit vibe started up, then the other two. I moaned deep and loud into his groin as he went in and out. I was in fucking heaven, all my holes satisfied.

I took in a breath and swallowed the pizza guy all the way into my throat and he responded by grabbing my pony tail and forcing my head into his groin even more. My mask was in place and I felt as wanton as any slut had ever felt. I moved my tongue out to put more pressure on the underside of his cock and he groaned deep and long, thrusting in all the while. Then the vibrators began to change their rhythm—first one of them would stop, then the other while the first one started up. One of them would be buzzing all the time while the other two would fall silent, then the pattern would change again. Malfunction? I thought in a sexual haze as I slurped away. No, this was all designed to keep me on edge, I was sure of it.

My jaw was starting to ache, and as much as I liked oral sex, I was getting tired. Then I felt his cock swelling even more and he came, spurt after diminishing spurt into my mouth and throat. I swallowed dutifully, like any good slut and then cleaned him off with my tongue.

"Aaah," he said as he tucked himself away. "Wish I had the time to fuck you properly." He fondled my breasts for a minute or two while I continued to moan and writhe under the quadruple assaults on my tits, clit, pussy and ass. Then he stopped and walked out, closing the door behind him. The vibrators fell silent too.