Night Stalkers

She withdraws her hand slowly, gently stroking my hood and lips, pouring more pleasure through me. I collapse back breathing hard, almost blacking out. Soft hands continue to stoke my legs and body.

As I come around I don't believe what is happening to me. How can this be so good? The stroking hands continue their dance on my skin. I'm not sure how much more I can take. I am bathed in sweat, the sheets of my bed a tangled ruin. My cunt is swollen and sore. Your tongue penetrates my ass again, darting in and out, back and forth. Oh, it feels so good. I feel the cool wetness of the lube again, on my ass this time. I just have time to think "Oh my God!" before the blunt head of your cock is pressing against the tight bud of my anus. The pressure on my ass builds and you slowly slide into me, just the tip, stretching me open. Your accomplice resumes her attention to my clit and the combined feeling is unimaginable. You begin to rock back and forth, gently sawing into me.

I feel a brief sting of resistance deep within me and then you are in me, sliding fully into my slimy rectum. I feel your pubes on against me as you pause, allowing me to get used to this new feeling of fullness. Fingers are grinding small circles into my clit as you begin slowly pumping into me. The feeling is like nothing I have ever experienced. I have always rejected anal sex as being dirty and something only whores and porn stars did but this is just incredible. I buck my hips into the persistent fingers, demanding rougher treatment. I grip you hard with my ass, bringing groans of pleasure from you. In response you pound into me and the circles on my clit shrink down to an incessant, grinding rub at my sensitive bud. I am moaning and thrashing against my bonds continually now.

All I want is for you to keep fucking my ass. I have lost count of how many times I have cum! It has become a continual orgasmic force ripping through me. Your hands are on my tits again, stroking and pulling at me, matching the rhythm on my clit. Your accomplice is rocking back and forth, her fingers no doubt as busy on her own clit as mine. You groan as your thrusting becomes more urgent. I am drowning in lust, stars busting in my head as my orgasms roar through me, one after another.

With a final roar you slam into me, rigid, as you pump stream upon stream of hot spunk into me. Your accomplice shudders and utters a long, low moan, gripped by her own orgasm. I cum and cum and cum. Moisture floods out of me and my body is wracked with convulsions.

All is quiet. Low, heavy breathing brings us all back to Earth. You withdraw from me slowly, your spunk flooding out, joining my own fluids to run down my body in thin rivulets. As my feet are released from their bonds, pins and needles rake my legs, as the blood flow returns. As my hands are released, I collapse into the mess of my bed. All is quiet. I am spent. Darkness takes me and I sleep.

I am woken in the morning by sunlight filtering through the partly opened curtains. Looking around, confused and still full of sleep, I wonder briefly why my alarm has not woken me. Memories of last night snap me to attention. Fully awake I scan my room. Nothing seems amiss. Looking down I realise that my bed is properly made, with no evidence of the exertions of the night before. A quick glance at my wrists however, confirms that it was no dream. The marks from the tape are still quite clear. Moving to sit up, I can feel the effects of being trussed up like a chicken for most of the night. My thighs and calves ache and my ankles bear similar marks to my wrists. My cunt feels swollen and sore. The tattered remains of my night-dress lie in a heap on top of a box, on a chair across the room, topped off with a single red rose.

Struggling to my feet, I cross the room to the box. The scent of the rose wafts up to me as I lift it, a perfect, single velvet bloom. Opening the box I find a beautiful silk negligee, far nicer than the one sacrificed in the night and a black silk choker with a stylised silver token, resembling a dove. A note falls from the folds of my new lingerie. A small blank envelope.

Setting my new nightwear down and grimacing a little, my legs rebelling at the movement, I stoop to retrieve it. The envelope contains a blank card, just like the one on the train. A message is neatly printed on the reverse.

"Wear this choker only when you are sure that you wish your initiation to continue."

That is all. No explanation of what I am being initiated into, nothing to identify my current visitors, nothing to say when they might return. Confused but quietly elated, I drift to the bathroom. My legs and back need a good soak. The bath is already run, the water still hot, with the pleasant aroma of obviously expensive bath oils filling the air. They must have only just left! Looking back into my apartment I expect to see someone there waiting to explain all this but I am quite alone.

Shrugging resignedly, I return to my bath. The hot water envelopes me, instantly soothing my tired muscles. I have a lot to think about.

But not right now.