Cum Conference

I was wearing a white shift dress, very conservative, with a string of pearls. As requested my hair was tied back in two pigtails, each tied carefully with white ribbon. The dress was very thin and stiff, and quite uncomfortable. Unless the client got off on making girls itchy, I didn't quite understand the reason for it.

This was to be my first job for my new employer, and I wanted to make it a good one. The terms of pay were quite satisfactory. They had been detailed in a letter, delivered with the dress and the pearls the previous evening. The ribbons had been a finishing touch of my own, cut from the bottom of the hotel curtains. This client wanted submissive, and whilst I was still a little nervous about the prospect of pain, I was fairly sure I could manage just about anything now. The letter had helpfully detailed exactly what this afternoon was to be about, the only problem being that I didn't know what it meant. Bukkake. I had never heard the word before.

The taxi pulled up at the address I had given him, and the driver got out and opened the car door for me. I thanked him, and apologised for not being able to give him a tip. He smiled and said it was okay, it was all taken care of. He waited until my escort arrived.

'Good afternoon. I am Mr. Kiyoto's assistant.'. The man was oriental, pretty much what I was expecting from the name of the client. He spoke with perfect diction, better than mine, in fact. I enunciated as clearly as I could. 'Good afternoon', I said. 'I am very pleased to meet you. My name is…'. I was undecided on what to call myself. 'My name is Christine.'. Hell, why not?

'I am to show you to the room.'

He led me up in the lift, where I tried to look as nonchalant as possible, though I was a little nervous. It was only on the twentieth floor, as the doors opened that I realised something with a lurch. I had never actually had sex with one man before. I resolved to do my utmost not to look disappointed at any time.

The carpet in the corridor was deep and sensual, and I felt myself sink into it, letting my bare feet enjoy the sensuality (I had been instructed not to bring anything other than the dress, and I hadn't wanted to risk shoes). I nodded at the receptionist and she smiled a knowing smile back at me.

'Am I going straight to Mr. Kiyoto?' I asked. I wondered if I had time to check my hair.

'Mr. Kiyoto is in a meeting right now'. He gestured to a room just off the corridor. I craned up to get a view through the small glass windows at the top of the door. An elderly man was talking on a podium, whilst a graph I did not understand was projected behind him. I couldn't see how many people he was addressing, only the first ten or so.

My escort came up behind me and grabbed me by the elbow, leading me gently away. 'Come, you are to wait in the next room'.

I nodded and followed his lead. He led me to another door, which opened to reveal a small ante room, the only furnishings a small cabinet, and a concertina screen wall. There was the same deep carpet on the floor, with the addition of a thin rubber sheet covering it all. There were two Japanese ladies inside, in traditional costume, and they giggled when they saw me, their mouths behind their hands. I bowed to them as deeply as I could, and they bowed back with the merest nod of their heads.

I turned back to my escort as he turned to leave, and whispered at him. 'Do you know what I am here for?' A small nod. 'What does my client look like?' I had a suspicion I was here as a gift for someone else, and I didn't want to use the wrong name, especially if it was to be a threesome with me as the odd one out. My escort smiled. 'Your client', he said, 'is all of them.'. He shut the door, and the key turned in the lock.

I swallowed, my mouth dry. I felt weak at the knees and collapsed onto the floor. The Japanese women chattered softly in alarm, and one carefully held my head whilst the other gave me a drink of water. I drank deeply, and then gasped 'Thank you.'. All of them? How many was that? I had counted at least ten. I was fairly sure I could manage that, but that was only the front row. I had walked at least fifty yards before turning into this room. How big was the room? How many were there? I was full of nervous excitement, and was beginning to hyperventilate. I breathed out deeply and held it in order to calm myself. I didn't know the Japanese for paper bag.

After I had calmed down I became aware that one of the women was talking to me. I looked up at her, sat up and straightened myself out. She was repeating a sentence and pointing to her companion who was kneeling down with her hands held out behind her back. Eventually I realised I was being stupid, and copied the action. Immediately my hands were bound together with a leather strap. The sentence was again repeated, and this time her companion was up on her knees. I did the same and my ankles were bound together likewise. Then, with a jerk, my legs were pulled up and fastened to my wrists. I was then lowered back down gently into a sitting position. I was now forced to be sitting down on my hands. I couldn't move at all.

The lady who had spoken before now stood in front of me, holding a leather contraption, like a large watchstrap with a short length of pipe in the middle. She read slowly and painfully from the card. 'If talk then gag will… will… then gag will…' I cut her off by nodding enthusiastically. I could keep quiet. She smiled and put the gag and card away in the cabinet from whence they came. She came back with a large bowl which she placed down next to me. My mind was racing, but I think I was beginning to get the idea.

The other geisha went over to the edge of the screen and opened it a fraction to whisper to someone on the other side. She then closed it, and I was plunged into darkness for a second, before a couple of spotlights came on in front of me, at the edges of the screen, pointed directly at me. Then the two geishas retreated to the back of the room where I could not see them.

I waited for what seemed like an age. My dress was now chafing more than ever. It was tucked over and under my legs, and bit into the back of my arms at the shoulders. I was both surprised and disappointed when I had not been asked to take it off. The excitement was just starting to wear off, and boredom set in when the screens were drawn back in front of me.

I immediately bowed my head in deference lest I cause any offence by squinting into the spots. I heard an announcement over the tannoy, and heard chairs squeaking as people turned to look back at me. There was a lot of shuffling, and muttering, and clinking of glasses. I heard the sound of chairs being stacked, and women's voices amongst it all murmuring softly in with the men's. I heard some doors being opened, presumably the main ones, and the sounds of lots of footsteps, and then doors swinging shut again. The muttering and heavier footsteps came closer, and then dipped lower. I saw several pairs of feet within my range of vision, but still did not lift up my head. They were all still standing on the carpeted area, a couple of yards ahead of where I was sitting.

One pair of feet was still encased in shoes and socks, and they creaked their way towards me, then past me. The owner made a ringing noise, I think something tapping against a wine glass, to call for silence. A hush fell on the crowd. The owner of the shoes began to make a short speech, all in Japanese. Occasionally there was laughter from the crowd. Either these were very good jokes, or this was a very big crowd. They shuffled from foot to foot, until eventually he ground to a halt, and they all applauded. I tried to calculate the number of people there from the applause. When I was five I had been Mary in the school nativity play, and I had blushed and wet my pants. There were some hundred and fifty children at my school in total, and all of them had brought at least one parent to the play, as well as all the teachers and assistants. This applause sounded chillingly similar.

Eventually one lone pair of feet detached themselves from the crowd and stood before me. There was a short conversation, and then the shoes creaked away again.

There was total silence. The feet were quite hairy, and when a hand was put under my chin to lift up my head I found myself looking into the eyes of a middle aged man of western appearance, with a bald head and a slightly graying mustache. I had assumed that all my clients would be Japanese; obviously I was wrong. The man smiled down upon me, the spotlight making a halo behind his head. His cock was just before me, bouncing up and down at nose level.

'Come to daddy', he said loudly, and the crowd laughed. He stuck his cock straight down my throat as far as it would go, and as my head was level I retched involuntarily. This didn't seem to put him off, and he grabbed my head with his hands, moving me backwards and forwards faster and faster, until eventually he shot his load down the back of my throat. 'Aaaaah!' He exclaimed, and there was another round of applause.

Then the crowd surged forward, and picked me up. I felt myself being grabbed at by many hands all at once. Then they all grabbed a piece of the dress and pulled. There was a ripping noise, and the dress was so many shreds of fabric, all being stuffed into pockets. Souvenirs. I was placed back down on the floor, now naked except for my bonds. Blinking, I looked up and allowed my eyes to adjust.

I was at the centre of a ring of men, Oriental, Asian, black and white, and all had a cock in his hand and was wanking furiously. One man pushed me onto my back, my knees stuck straight up in the air, and pushed my legs apart. He then proceeded to fuck me, a strained, desperate fucking, and I teetered on the brink of orgasm all the while. I just needed him to slow down. He yelled and clambered to his knees over my prone body and came enthusiastically, leaving a trail of cum from my pussy right up to my chin. He staggered to his feet and moved back, and another climbed on and took his place. This one was a little slower, and I managed to cum for the first time, unable to prevent myself from crying out. I tried to make my moans seem like those of despair rather than ecstasy. I was playing the part as much as I could.

After quite a short time the man fucking me started to get louder, pulled out and stood up, walked over to my head and came over my face. Some of it went in my eye, and I shut it instinctively. It didn't actually sting, although I was expecting it to, though it did feel clogging, like when you wake up with your eyes full of dried tears. I shook the majority of it loose, just as another barrage hit me in the face from one of those wanking themselves off around me. This became the pattern for a while; a guy would fuck me, sometimes just a couple of strokes, and then move to my head and cum on my face.

Guy after guy after guy. Sometimes, for variation, they would fuck me in the ass, often quite hard. Although this hurt a little my pussy was red hot from all the friction, and any time with a cock out of it was a relief. Indeed, the times I came were usually when I was re-entered after a couple of guys in a row had been fucking my ass, and given my clit a chance to air off a little. I would play up to the ass-banging, moaning to accentuate my pain, occasionally grimacing.

I was enjoying myself immensely. It was so intense an emotion I became almost disembodied, both in ecstacy from the sensation and in voyeuristic delight from the image of myself being used by so many men.

I lost track of how many times I was fucked but I know I came myself at least ten times; I would guess about an hour or so. Eventually one man clambered off of me and came straight into my open mouth, splat. I swallowed it down and held my mouth open for more. Somebody said something and they all moved back. I blinked and tried to clear my eyes to see what was happening. I felt hands on my cum-covered shoulders push me back upright. It was the two Japanese ladies, and they helpfully wiped some of the cum out of my eyes, so I could see with some sort of rubber spatula thing. Then they held up the bowl to my face and scraped the cum from my face and body into the bowl. The second geisha brought a cloth into my field of view and wrung it out into the bowl as well. This was all the cum that had been on the floor. She did this again a second time and then lifted the bowl to my lips. The floor was where all the men had been walking to cum on my face, and I could smell the sweat mingled with the cum. There was around half a pint of it in the bottom of the bowl, and I held my mouth open as it was tipped down my throat. Some of it had been there for some time, and was cold and congealed, and I had difficulty swallowing it.

I coughed, and retched a couple of times, but managed not to puke. One of the geisha knelt down beside me and said something to one of the men. She tilted my head back so my jaw naturally fell open. I saw what was coming and opened my mouth wide, with my tongue out. Anything to take the taste of that away. The other geisha came down beside me on the other side, holding the bowl under my head. A man stepped up in front of me and held his cock out. One of the geisha took it and quickly wanked him off, pushing my head forward to meet the gush that followed. Others followed in quick rotation. I swallowed what I could but some bubbled over my chin and down into the bowl with a plop. Some came two at a time, so that I could only catch one, and the other landed on my face, to be quickly removed and scraped down into the bowl.

This went on for much longer than the fucking had. The men in front of me gradually changed. Where originally the men had all been wearing shirts and suit jackets with lapel badges, eventually the badges disappeared and then even the jackets. The bowl had to be discarded, and a new one brought out. Then even the shirts vanished, and I was looking at overalls.

There was much laughter, and then applause. I looked up. An old man had come into the room, and the room had parted to allow him entry. He had a camera in his hand, and I noticed with some concern that so did many others. Many, many others. Only now, with everyone pressed against the walls, did I get a clear picture of exactly how many men were there. There had to have been at least five hundred. I was covered in cum from head to foot, everywhere but actually in my cunt and ass; no-one had wanted to be the first to give sloppy seconds.

I wondered what the grand finale was to be, that it was worth taking photos of. I looked around. The two geisha were busy scooping from the floor every last bit of cum, and tipping that and the contents of the bowls, actually three bowls, I must have lost count, into a large glass tube. I looked at the quantity and swallowed. The markings on the side measured past two, and they looked way too big to be markings in pints. I started to shake in genuine fear this time, and actually pissed myself, making myself wince in pain from the urine on my raw pussy. Everyone laughed at that, and quite a few camera flashes went off. I wasn't worried about that, if anyone I knew saw this they'd be too embarrassed to say anything anyway. I was worried about whether I could do it. I looked with pleading eyes at one of the geisha, and she held up the gag. I shook my head no. If that was the choice, I would do it.

They brought out a large clear funnel, and held it up over my mouth. I pointed my mouth up and held it open. They swished the cum around in the tube, mixing it all together thoroughly. I tried to analyse it. Just over two litres. That's like one of the large containers of milk, or a large bottle of Cola. I could drink that. But cum was so much thicker, and saltier. I would be so thirsty when I was finished.

They tipped the first mouthful into the funnel. I swallowed as fast as I can, and when they saw that I was losing ground they stopped and waited. I swished what was left round and round in my mouth until my saliva had watered it down a little then swallowed that down too. I sat and panted for a little while, while flashes went off around me. Then I lifted my head upward again. It had the consistency of whipped cream, or runny yoghurt, and I couldn't just swallow it down like a drink. I virtually had to chew some of it, especially the bits that had congealed into jelly.

Time after time I swallowed it down and held up my head for more. It was just about cooling down to a temperature where it was nicely palatable again, and I was starting to really enjoy it. Around me a hushed conversation went on. I think they were taking bets.

Finally the geisha tapped the last of the semi-liquid into the funnel and into my mouth, and I made a great show of sucking the bottom of the funnel to get the last drops, and licking my lips. A great cheer went up from the assembled crowd, and they pushed forward, as if to begin again. But one of the geisha held up a hand and pulled across the screen., shutting them out.

Despite my pain in my belly, and the throbbing clit, and my doubtless torn asshole, I actually whined a little. There was some part of me that still wanted more. The geisha moved to my back and undid the straps holding my wrists, and then that holding my ankles. I tried to stand up, and just about made it to my feet, when my body gave up, and I fainted with a faint splash into the lake of cum that still lapped around me.

I awoke being pushed in a wheelchair towards the front doors. I had been sponged down a little, though I could still feel cum in all my crevices and caked in my hair. I turned weakly to see who was pushing me. My escort from earlier, back now in his suit and tie. I had looked out for him, and he had been one of those who had banged me in the ass the longest. Long and hard. I was still naked and the night breeze on my damp skin made me shiver. Someone stepped out of the back of the cab and held out a large bath towel which he swaddled me in and carried me to the back seat if the cab, and then left me there, with the door still open. I looked up at my escort as he walked away. 'Thank you', I said weakly, and then puked into the gutter. Wave after wave of white vomit, staining the pavement and running down the grating. It couldn't have been more than a quarter of what I had consumed, but with that much out I felt much better. I turned myself round in the seat and clicked on my seatbelt.

'Good night, then?', Asked the driver, as my companion finished shutting both doors and climbing in after me.

I smiled. I was desperate for a drink of water, but apart from that, I felt fantastic. I felt like I was drunk, or some sort of drug. 'Yes,' I said, 'It was the best.'