Dinner at The Penthouse Ch. 02

I stared into Sasha's grinning face, taken aback by her words but simultaneously turned on by them. I knew what to expect from this evening, but this woman's unbridled sexual enthusiasm was singularly exciting. Right then I very much wanted to see her fantasies play out. I brought you here to be shared, to give you to others to be passed around and fucked. It made sense that others would be eager to take you.

"I'll make it happen." I flash a grin at her, imagining her naked on top of you.

Another announcement rings through the room:

"Attention all guests, playtime is ready to begin. Please make your way over to the Playroom. Remember, share and be considerate of other guests."

Sasha beams at me and takes my hand, moving to my side. We watch the other guests replace their post-dinner lethargy with lustful anticipation and hurry toward the ornate double doors. Sasha's hand in mine feels soft and strong. She gives it a tug, and we move together to join the flow of guests into the Playroom.

The Playroom is a vast, ballroom-like space, decorated as one would expect a king's banquet hall to be. The atmosphere was similar to that of a movie theater; seductively dim with areas of warm light. Dark red curtains flowed around the walls, accented with black and gold tassels. As far as I could see, there were no windows save for an opaque skylight curved around the high ceiling. Several large cages hung from that ceiling, suspended by thick chains. featuring some of the evening's slaves in various states of bondage.

Below the cages was an assortment of tables, platforms, and other structures to which the rest of the slaves were each affixed. Every slave was displayed like an exhibit at a museum, complete with a small descriptive plaque. The manner of display for each slave seemed to be random, but complimentary to each slave's best attributes. Slaves with exceptionally full asses had them hoisted prominently into the air, some had decorative plugs inserted into one or both holes. Breasts were thrust out, legs were spread wide, and every slave with a cock was erect and ready. Oil had been rubbed into their skin during the preparation and the slaves' bodies gleamed invitingly in the soft light.

Just inside the entrance stood a plain table with hundreds of bottles of water, several standing racks for clothing, and a table filled with floggers, whips, ropes, ballgags, plugs, and several other kinds of penetrative devices and spanking implements. Along the walls of the room, black-suited attendants stood ready to assist with slave handling and repositioning.

It was a glorious display of sexuality, objectification, and ownership. Sasha and I stood motionless for a moment, watching as the crowd began to move among the displays. A bit late, the third and final announcement came:

"Playtime has begun. Guests are encouraged to visit and use a variety of slaves. Have fun!"

Suddenly I felt a light touch on my chin and my face was turned. I had only a moment to register the manic gleam in Sasha's eyes before she pulled me in, pressing her body against mine and thrusting her tongue in my mouth. "Catch up with me later," she whispered before turning and moving toward the crowd. In one fluid motion, she unzipped something and slipped out of her silky dress, handing it to a silent attendant with a flourish. She twirled once for me, in just her heels. I watched her now naked body melt into the erotic throng.

I smiled slightly and started on my own path through the 'exhibits'. Nearest to me was a female slave displayed on its back, with its legs secured in the air in a V position and its hands tied to its sides. Two guests were dominating it currently, a powerfully built man and a dark-haired woman wearing nothing but lacy panties and a sheer top.

"You are not to cum without permission." The woman spoke sharply, but her face was ecstatic. Her orders were accompanied by two of her fingers gently pumping inside the slave's cunt. The man, silver haired, shirtless, and well-built, had his hand over the slave's mouth, forcing her head back. "You are nothing but a plaything," the man intoned, staring into the slave's eyes. It nodded as best it could and attempted to moan its agreement.

Its legs trembled violently as the woman sped her up her hand, at the same time lowering her mouth to the slave's overstimulated cunt. The man then withdrew his hand and moved nearer to its head. "Open," he commanded. It turned toward him in response, its mouth in a wide O and its tongue out. Roughly squeezing one of the slave's tits, the man slid his cock into her throat. The combination of being throatfucked and eaten out was driving the slave crazy; I could see its outstretched legs shaking. Even as contorted as it was, I recognized the slave from the dinner menu. Evelyn.

The man and woman switched places, and I circled the platform as they moved. The woman wiggled out of her panties and carelessly tossed them behind her. I looked into Evelyn's face, and she met my gaze. I saw nothing but submission and fearful excitement in her eyes before her face was obscured, buried deep in the woman's ass. I looked back and saw the man fucking her energetically. Even through the woman's voluptuous ass, her lustful moans were audible. The only other expression she could manage was to flex her toes, which she did.

I ran my hands over her torso and cupped her tits as the man continued his fucking and the woman, laughing, started to bounce over the slave's face, sending waves rippling through her very full ass. Her smile was radiant as she enjoyed the sensation of the slave's tongue going in and out of her asshole. Roughly, I squeezed the slave's tits, and heard a perceptible increase in its moaning for a moment. Pleased, I left the duo to their conquest and continued among the displays.

I came across a male slave on its back. It had a fair complexion with a smattering of freckles across its nose. It had curly, light-brown hair that was being tightly held by a woman, to hold its head down on its platform. Another woman, dress pulled up, was gleefully riding the slave's cock, rubbing her clit as she bounced. The slave's arms and legs were tied to its platform, and both women taunted it.

"Don't you dare cum, little boy. I'm not done! This cock needs to stay hard for me, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," the slave replied through gritted teeth. It was using whatever techniques it knew to prevent itself from cumming; it blushed with the effort. The woman holding his hair laughed and spit down in his face. She then slapped it a few times, hard, twisting its hair with the other hand, making it moan in pain. As the lady bouncing on the slave's dick started to moan with her impending orgasm, the herculean effort of not cumming forced the slut to tense every muscle in its tight, lean body.

The woman reached orgasm, exhaling dramatically, then stood up, towering over the pathetic slutboy. "Not bad, little slut. You didn't even cum!" She stepped on him, pressing her bare toes into his face. "Thank you, Mistress" the muffled reply came.

"He's had it too easy," mused the woman at his head, stroking his hair. "A girl on his dick? That's every guy's dream. This slave boy needs some adversity in his life."

"Absolutely," the first woman agrees emphatically, continuing to mash her bare foot into the slave's face. With a few quick instructions to passing attendants, the boy was mounted with his feet on the floor, legs apart, bent at the waist with his arms straight and up behind him. His chin was placed at the end of a cushioned pole extending from the floor, forcing him to look straight ahead, and he was fitted with a large ballgag that completely inhibited any sort of speech.

The two women invited passersby to sample their prize, and I drifted forward. Amused, I forced my thumb into the slut's asshole, up to its full length. With my other hand, I reached around and slowly jerked its cock. Delighted, the women berated the pathetic slave boy, slapping him and telling him he would be horrifically punished if he cums. It moaned, and its ass flexed and tightened with the continued effort of not cumming. Intrigued by how it might be punished, I nonetheless gave the slave's cock one last stroke before removing my thumb from its ass. Before I stepped away, I reached under and squeezed its balls, hard, kneading them in my palm. I was rewarded with a muted groan of agony and a slight convulsion as the slave tried to resist my assault.

A large bear of a man, as much hair on his broad chest as on his bearded face, approached the two women then. He gestured to the bound little beta male. "Is this hole free?" I released my grip and moved closer.

"Yes, please feel free! He's only ever had the strap before, but I've been so anxious to give him a real cock. Use him all you like." The woman looked at her slave, smirking. Its eyes widened in panic, and it started to form some pleading sound around its gag. It doesn't get much out before the huge man spreads its plump little asscheeks with his meaty hands and slams the full length of his sizable cock into its almost-virgin boy pussy.

Its screams fill the space even with the huge gag. To add to its misery, the women laughed and took turns twisting its nipples and slapping its cock. Notably, the slave was fully erect and leaking precum, a fact not overlooked by the women as they continued their admonishment that it should not cum. After a decently long period of time -- about 20 minutes -- the man filled the slave's belly with his load. He groaned in relief, and with a final slap to its ass, he allowed his thick member to slide out of the slut's widened hole. Not even addressing the slut, he thanked its handlers and sauntered away. Two more men approached the women, and they talked excitedly. The slave whimpered as his gag was removed and the men took their places on either side of him. More well-endowed guests lined up, hungrily patting and stroking the trembling slave as they waited their turn. As I turned to leave, the men expertly spitroasted the slender boy, choking and stuffing him with cock for what was apparently only the second time in his life.

I heard a familiar moan and glanced around. You are suspended from an iron arch, tied with your arms behind your back and your knees to your chest, parallel to the ground. A slender woman with two full tattoo sleeves spoke softly to you with her fingers in your mouth. Mildly curious, and fascinated by someone else controlling you, I drifted a bit closer to hear.

"You're a nice little toy, you know." Her British accent captured your attention perfectly as her manicured, deep red fingernails played with your tongue, keeping your mouth open. "Such a fat ass you have, too, little pet. Lots of people here are going to enjoy using that, don't you think?"

"Uh-huh..." Your speech is limited by her hand prodding further into your mouth. She smirked, watching you drool helplessly.

Behind you, a few guests talked amongst themselves and inspected you, casually fingering your holes. The topic of discussion seemed to be which buttplug best suited your ass; several plugs of various sizes were being inserted and removed from your asshole. Your eyes were wide as the woman in front of you reached under and started rubbing your clit. Pleased, I decided to leave you there for the moment. People seemed to be having fun with you.

I wandered into a circle of guests surrounding a female slave on her knees, doing her best to service everyone. Across her chest was written "cockslut". One of them motioned for me to participate. Acquiescing, I disrobed, handing my clothes to the nearest attendant. The slave's mouth was roughly passed around, eventually getting to me. Cockslut proves to live up to her name; she took me far enough down her throat to press her nose against my pelvis. Excited, I throatfucked her vigorously a few times. Her eyes flickered up to me and I felt her moans as her throat vibrated. I enjoyed this sensation for a while before considerately taking her by the hair and forcing her mouth onto my neighbor's cock.

After a few more rounds, a woman stepped into the circle and led the slave, crawling, to a nearby fucking platform, positioning the slave on her back and securing her with built-in restraints. Turning, the woman addressed everyone in the vicinity. "This slave needs to be fucked. Every hole is free use!" Men and women encircled the slave like sharks in frenzy, and everyone was giving orders. The slave struggled to keep up, and was soon obscured from my view as she was used like the fucktoy she was.

I felt a hand caress my shoulders. Sasha slid around me and pulled herself in, pressing her tits to my chest and lightly dragging her nails down my back. She was fully nude with her hair slightly mussed, and she smiled up at me. "Come on," she whispers. "Let's go see her. They're spanking her."

"...yeah." I murmured my response into her mouth as she kissed me. I allowed myself to be led through the throng, past a multitude of slaves being whipped, fucked, and dominated, to where a man in a black silk shirt, sitting atop a platform, had you draped over his knee. The tattooed woman sat beside him, regarding you sternly. I knew by the rhythm and severity of the blows that this was a disciplinary spanking, and that you had been instructed to hold your hands on your head. Judging by the redness of your ass, I estimated that fewer than fifty have been delivered.

Smack. "Fifty-two, Sir!" you announced, your voice clear. I've trained you well, but he's just getting started, not even using an implement yet. Your plight has drawn a small audience that teases and taunts you. I joined them with Sasha on my arm and hung back to watch the show.

"Why are you being punished?" The man in silk asked you in a low voice.

"This slut is being punished for failing to use its tongue properly, Sir." Your voice wavers slightly.

Smack. "What did you fail to use it for, slut?"

"Fifty-three, Sir. I failed to make Mistress Lydia cum in less than five minutes, Sir." Mistress Lydia regarded you with a mock coldness from her seat.

Smack. "What are you?" The man kept his hand on your ass, grabbing a handful and squeezing.

"Fifty-four, Sir. I am a useless slave cunt, Sir." I'm proud of this declaration.

Smack. "You should be grateful that I am here to correct you." Your ass jiggles violently, but your face remains composed.

"Fifty-five, Sir. Thank you for correcting me, Master James, I need correction."

"Why do you need correction?"

"I need correction because I'm a dumb slut, Sir."

Smack. "That's right. Good whore." Master James produced a paddle and ran it lightly over your ass. "Dumb sluts like you need lots of correction, don't they? That's why I use these." He leaned over and dangled it in front of your face, letting it swing back and forth like a pendulum.

Your eyes follow the paddle as you respond. "Please spank me, Sir, I need it..." I can feel your apprehension. The next 35 spanks bring you close to tears.

Smack. "Eighty-seven, Sir..." Your arms tremble and there is a real tremor in your voice now.

Smack. "Eighty...eight....Sir!" You gasp.

SMACK. "AHH...eighty NINESIRNINETYSIR!" He disrupts his rhythm with the next spank. Leaning down, he speaks softly to you.

"I'm going to give you an opportunity to correct your little mistake, and if you do, we'll forgive the last ten spanks. Okay, slut?"

"Yes, Sir...please, Sir..."

"Are you going to make us proud?"

"Oh yes, Sir, I am, please let mmmf-" Mistress Lydia suddenly reached down and clamped her hand over your mouth. She gave you a hard look into your eyes, and enunciated three words.

"Make. Me. Cum." You nod frantically, and are allowed to lower your arms. Mistress Lydia's chair is repositioned so that she can sit directly in front of your face, with her pussy level with your mouth. Master James starts fingering you, and you go to work on your task, licking and sucking Mistress Lydia. Your fervor is rewarded soon enough as Lydia cums explosively, grabbing the back of your head and furiously humping your face. Master James laughs, and delivers a final spank to your punished ass.

The crowd laughed and cheered as James hoisted you to your feet to present your newly disciplined behind, bending you at the waist and leading you by the back of your head, forcing you to spin in place. Lydia spread your asscheeks, showing everyone your perfect slut holes. Leading Sasha, I approached the platform and caught James' attention.

"Nice job. This one's mine, do you mind if I steal her for a moment?"

He laughed. "Not at all. A beautiful ass, absolute pleasure to spank. On behalf of everyone, thank you for bringing her."

"Thanks for spanking her." I reply with a small smile. "She does desperately need the punishment."

Pleased with his work and showmanship, he complied gracefully, handing you to me and melting into the crowd with a flourish. Lydia smiled at me, then drew your mouth open with a finger and spat into it. With that, she walked off.

I drew you close, lifting your chin with a finger. As I've trained you to do, you opened your mouth and hung your tongue, like a dog panting in heat. Your arms went back up, locked behind your head. I looked into your eyes, deeply. I know you inside and out. Something about the way you looked back at me tells me that you love this, love being publicly used, displayed, shamed. Sasha beamed at you and planted a kiss on your cheek, to which you fluttered your eyelids to show your appreciation.

You tilted your head slightly, and I can sense a silent plea; you wanted me to do that to you now. To show everyone how completely I've made you mine, how much of a slut I've molded you into. I stuck two fingers into your open mouth, sliding them across your wet tongue toward your throat. You convulsed a little as you attempted to suppress your gag reflex, your already brimming eyes in danger of overflowing, and I smiled.

In a few moments, I had you on all fours secured to a spanking horse. A few of your admirers were still gathered around, to my delight, and Sasha stood by your head. She's smiling, cooing and stroking your hair, as if you were her pet. I tightened the last strap. With the help of Sasha, I was going to make a show of you.

I moved around you and whispered into Sasha's ear. She turned her head slightly to me, not moving her eyes from you. Finally, she giggled and nodded. "Can I get a chair?" She asked an attendant floating nearby. Within seconds, a black leather chair materialized, and she elegantly sat in front of you.

Nude in her chair except for her heels, she looked at you and formed her lips into a playful pout. "I've been walking around all night, and my feet are so sore. They ache." She gently placed the bottom of one of her heels square in the center of your forehead. "Are you gonna help me out?" Unable to raise your head to look at her, you nevertheless answered clearly in the affirmative. "Yes, ma'am, I will."

Standing beside you, watching my little foot fetish fantasy unfold and idly groping your ass, I watched Sasha's visage become darker and more dominant, the picture of a powerful and sadistic mistress. She raised her leg from your forehead and angled her foot just below your mouth. "Undo my shoe." There was no playfulness in her tone. I watched the back of your head as you struggled to undo the complex buckles of her heel with your teeth. Members of our audience, milling about with drinks and idle chatter, laughed at your efforts. Sasha allowed you to struggle for about a minute, relishing how helpless you were and how futile the task she had set for you was. Finally, she let out a comically exasperated sigh and undid her own shoe, leaning in to chastise you.