Rage Against the Latrine Ch. 28

I never stopped him. "You want that?" He asked in a Scottish accent. "I could fuck that arse. But what I really need is a man exploding in my mouth."

"That warm, slippery goo. The taste. The smell. The submission," I muttered. "The feeling of the orgasm on your tongue."

"Aye, like that. You want a piece of me?" He chuckled.

And he wasn't what I found sexy or attractive in a man. To me, homosexual sex was exciting, but the male body was less arousing than a female one. I enjoyed playing with Jamie and Adam, but Natasha and Monika were far sexier creatures. The sight of my dominatrices, especially wearing lingerie or donning strapons, turned me on a lot more than seeing a naked guy.

But I had kinks, and I knew that submitting to anyone satisfied my lust; I loved being taken, and the overweight, rotund Scot offered me that. He knelt over me on the cold, hard patio, as we did "sixty-nine" on the floor. I cricked my neck, sucking the tip of his prick as he sunk his lips down on my manhood.

My arousal bubbled and sizzled. I felt overwhelmed and overexcited as I suckled a dick while the Scot ran his mouth over my shaft. My hips bucked and rocked as he teased the full length of my cock. 

I panted as my tongue swirled over his glans, eager to feel the eruption of his arousal on my lips. His body weight pinned me to the ground as my gaze stared directly at his hairy buttcheeks and puckering anus. There was nothing about him I would have considered "my type."

My mouth suckled on his purple tip, and I tasted every drop of his musky pre-cum. As his tongue worshipped my erect dick, my lust rose. This sordid act, on the cold, hard patio, was filthy. And arousing. My fingers rubbed his nipples as his head bobbed on my prick.

I felt he was chasing my orgasm for me; his lips formed a tight ring that slid up and down my shaft as he fellated me; his tongue swirled and probed, eager to satisfy, and he was fantastic at doing so.

The pressure on my prick grew too much for me to resist. I groaned into him as my lust bubbled and my cock pulsed, filling his mouth with cum. He slowed, but the moment my seed hit his tongue, his anus puckered and his body shook.

I had triggered his release, and I sucked the tip as his dick spasmed, firing a jet of his warm white pleasure down my throat.

And another.

The naked Scotsman said nothing as he climbed from me, leaving me panting on the cold stone floor, and returned holding a pair of beers. 

"I saw you drank one of t'ese earlier," he stated, helping me to my feet, and passing me a drink. I thanked him, and we conversed; the nudity was irrelevant, as was the fact that this stranger had his dick in my mouth five minutes previously, and I was washing down his cum with ale. 

Connor joined me after the Scot returned to his work colleagues. The young apprentice engineer explained to me that the orgy had a similar pattern each month; after the first bout of fellatio and sex, the attendees would enjoy a beer or two as their bodies recovered. Some would wander up to the playroom, and that was where we would find Derek. Eager to see this fabled room, my guide and I walked into the retiree's house, stepped over a fornicating couple on the stairs, and entered the vast space at the top of the property.

We heard plenty of noise and shouting on the staircase, and the bawdy yells and excited cries did not disappoint. The BDSM whipping was on our left, and our host, tied to the bench, was crying in excitement as a massive dildo on the end of a motorised rotor pummelled in and out of his gaping anus. 

I had seen them before; Natasha called them fucking machines and Nessie had referred to them as sex robots; the stout, toolbox sized machine, with its long arm, rammed aggressively into Derek's willing hole. 

"Is he ready?" The primary school teacher asked. He unfurled a shiny piece of black latex in his hands and pushed his wrist into the glove. I was as speechless as the dozen guys, watching the young man don the pair of elbow-length rubber sheaths and stop the fucking machine to remove the dildo. 

He used a drinks bottle to pour the translucent white syrup over Derek's rosebud; the dominant pushed two fingers of his left hand into the host's hole and spread them before squirting more of the lubricant into his butt. It was spell-binding to watch as he calmly finger-fucked the prostate man, first with a couple, and then three and four digits.

The black latex fingers contrasted with the puddles of white goo across his hands and backside, before the young teacher folded his thumb into his palm and sunk his entire hand into Derek's slippery hole.

The bottom squealed as the gay top rotated his wrist and withdrew his arm; I had never seen anyone fisted before and watching the primary school teacher reaching into the rectum, burying several inches of his forearm into the lubricated opening before fully withdrawing, left me spellbound. 

As one hand withdrew, the other took its place; the teacher smoothly rotated his arm as he corkscrewed it into the host's arse. Derek cried and yelped, pushing back on the intruding hands. The pace quickened, and the young top changed to just one fist, almost punching the gaping opening with increasing alacrity. 

White lubricant splashed as the dominant rammed their hand into the submissive's greedy hole up to his forearm. He smashed past the yawning ring to fill the elder man's expansive cavity. It looked sensual; the trust and consent Derek showed to allow this guest to open him so wide was incredible. The show exposed the host, revealing his inner self as his body shuddered.

I felt honoured to watch it, and the young man replaced the hand with a giant black butt plug, as big as the fist that came before it, and Derek's face sunk against the floor as the top filled the host's hole. Two men grabbed an arm each, and they dragged him to the vacant St. Andrew's Cross on the wall of his playroom.

"Can we use the fucking machine?" Connor asked.

"We're done with it," a voice replied, and my new friend used a towel to wipe up the mess from the previous play. The giant dildo attached to the apparatus came off, and he selected a thinner, smaller dong, before unfurling a condom down the shaft. 

"You first," he said to me, holding a bottle of lubricant that he squeezed over the dildo. "You'll like it." I knelt in front of the machine and tentatively pulled my butt cheeks apart as the young man squirted lube against my hole.

Connor loosened me with his fingers, but the thick bulbous head of the dildo stretched my ring when he put that in place. I slowly backed further onto it, adjusting my knees as more of the toy inched into me. 

My erect cock leaked, and it had not been touched. My body sang as the full length of the prick buried inside me, and Connor chuckled when he turned the dial on the machine.

Slowly, the six-inch dick slipped out, gliding between my cheeks and sphincter. 

And then came straight back at me, filling me as before. The young man increased the power again. And again. The motor grunted and whirred, smashing the dildo faster, harder, and angrier into me. Running at full speed, the toy bore into me. 

But it felt incredible. I had never been fucked so wildly; not even Natasha, at her most frustrated, could compete with the rigorous, explosive nature of this machine. The exquisite feeling of submission swelled within as my cock leaked pre-cum onto the floor.

Orgasm after orgasm shook my body; each one stronger than the last. I writhed on the fake rubber, smashing into me, as I felt my climax well inside. My grunting self swam through the submissive lust and prostate stimulation. I knew I had a small audience, as the machine sodomised me. My cock bounced with every pound of my slutty hole. My glazed eyes could barely make out the sights in the room, and I had long since tuned out of the sounds.

It was just me, the dildo, and my butt. An avalanche of delicious touches within my intimate space as the machine brought me to my strongest orgasm, welling from deep inside my backside. Every stroke had carried me closer to this point, until I was ready to explode. Men surrounded me, watching the show, but I never cared as ecstasy swept through my flesh and cum leaked from my prick. Not once, but twice, I hit a wave of toe-curling sexual delirium as I reached my carnal peak in front of a gaggle of hedonists. I fell forward, drained. 

Connor stopped the machine. "My turn," he eagerly cried, and we wiped my mess with the towel and replaced the condom on the dildo. Watching him lubricate himself and the toy before he positioned his body on the dong was arousing, but seeing him groan as he impaled himself on the rubber cock was deeply provocative. He swam in pleasure as his butthole accommodated the intruding dick.

I watched the slow march of the machine, thrusting gently into him, which caused him to groan. He arched his back and adjusted himself so the sodomising robot stroked his special spot. I turned the dial higher and higher, smashing the cock faster and faster into his hole. It pounded him at a phenomenal rate, with the wheel of the motor spinning like an out-of-control steam train.

I couldn't believe I had taken this treatment. But I knew how it felt, and Connor's cries and squeals were not too dissimilar to mine. The pleasure escalated, building in intensity until the pressure discharged, smashing into every sinew of flesh.

He experienced the overwhelming surge, and he expelled his seed from his swinging limp prick as the machinery drained him of cum. 

We watched two other men become depleted by the fucking machine and then drank some beer on the patio. Connor and I took it in turns to fellate a stranger in the kitchen and after they rewarded him with a mouthful, the young man kissed me, sharing the cream.

We met up with Adam and Joseph, as the two gay lovers dominated an older pair; the afternoon was non-stop sexual debauchery. The last act of the party was Derek once more. The host came into the patio and the primary school teacher knelt in front of the naked man and attached a black chastity cage to his prick. "Please," the elder fellow begged. "Not again. I want..."

The key turned in the lock and the dominant fastened a blindfold to the overweight sub. They sat him in the corner of his patio. "Guys, before you go, take a slash over this pig. And who wants the key this month?"

I didn't need to urinate, but several men did, and they covered the obese host in their piss, soaking the gregarious man in pale honey, before we dressed. 

Joseph explained on the journey home. "Each party, they lock him in a chastity cage. They pick a regular attendee at random, and he takes the key. They keep it and unlock him minutes before the next orgy. He spends all his time locked, and he loves it." Adam rubbed his boyfriend's knee. "Maybe I should do that with you." The young man gasped. "I'd need to if we ever went exclusive!"

I dropped the gay couple outside Joseph's flat and then drove to our holiday let. Svetlana, Mary, Ruslana and Natasha had spent the afternoon in the pub, and when they returned to the accommodation, my partner had to help her sister and the lesbian barista stagger to the cottage; they were much the worse for wear. My fiancée was especially keen to listen to my antics at the party, and we had normal vanilla sex for the first time in weeks.

The following day, we persuaded our guests to join us on a walk with Adam and Joseph. Natasha's pregnant state limited the difficulty of the hike we attempted, but we had a pleasant stroll along a gentle incline to a viewpoint which offered fabulous views across the lake before we had lunch in a wonderful hillside pub. My partner teased her brother that he was turning me gay and that I needed some proper heterosexual shagging.

He grinned, but the following morning, Natasha made me thoroughly douche before we drove to collect her mother. Ruslana was quiet in the car and said she didn't feel too good. My fiancée sensed something was worrying her, but the mature nymphomaniac snapped and replied that she had business at the swingers' retreat.

Alfredo, the club stalwart, welcomed us into the carpark and greeted Ruslana. "A word?" He asked when she got out of my vehicle.

"Sure," she muttered and glanced at Natasha, listening to the conversation. "I'm Treasurer of the Club. Alfredo is Vice President. It's nothing juicy," she snapped, a little aggressively. "Go to the changing rooms and I'll be along shortly."

Ruslana's business took over fifteen minutes, but she returned with a full-length black Latex catsuit that hugged my fiancée's engorged body. I could not resist running my hands over her rubber-clad frame, especially when she applied the Shiner to it. 

My fellow film stars were Janine, a swinger eight months pregnant, and a married couple - Kelly and Simon - who were making their filming debut at the swingers' club. Natasha was at the same stage of her pregnancy as Kelly, although my fiancée had a bigger bump.

While the girls discussed the scenes with Alfredo, I chatted to the naked sub; he was the same age and build as me, but the retail manager's sexual history was much more limited. Adopting a submissive role was a recent development in his sex life and he was keen to experience a handful of wilder adventures before the banality of parenthood prevented him.

The scene started with both myself and Simon naked and restrained; we both wore full face latex hoods with just openings for our eyes and mouth. They narrowed our field of vision, but I saw the three gorgeous pregnant women saunter across the room to start in front of us.

All the dommes wore masks; my fiancée was dressed in a full-length catsuit and the other two donned black erotic lingerie that showed their bumps and gravid figures.

Simon, fastened horizontally spread-eagled on the floor, was their first victim. His wife retrieved a large red bowl and tray from underneath the camera and ambled back to her partner.

The women liberally coated his chest, pubis and legs in shaving foam before dragging the razor over his dampened body to remove every follicle from his skin. When he squealed, Janine perched her buttocks on his face. They took twenty minutes to shave both sides of his frame, and the dommes paraded their glabrous sub in front of the camera.

They had fastened me to a bench and my first scene involved the three dominatrices taking turns sitting astride my face. They forced me to provide cunnilingus to the pregnant women.

Utter bliss; I had reached a nirvana as the gravid belles circled me. Janine, the heaviest of the beauties, sat on me first. Long, light brown hair, with welcoming green eyes and a cheeky, fun-loving smile that radiated happiness. At nearly nine months pregnant, the swinger was at her bulkiest, most radiant, and her body weight bore down on my skull as she positioned herself.

Her splayed slit smelt gloriously sweet and felt arousingly wet. I inhaled her gorgeous scent as my tongue slipped over her button. Helpless, I could not move. They fastened my wrists and ankles to the long bench. Her heft pinned my head to the wooden top, and the foam padding made little difference to the pressure on my cranium.

It may have been uncomfortable for some, but I was in heaven. The stimulating feel of the concupiscent jezebel's juices as she became aroused was delightful. My tongue swirled against her smooth flesh and delicate ridges, drawing the young slattern towards her orgasm.

My soaked skin welcome Natasha next. The inside of the latex hood was hot and sweaty and Janine had smothered me in female arousal. My fiancée used the crotch zipper to free her cunt, and I adored the familiar smell and taste. I knew what my partner loved, and I eagerly probed her saturated pussy and slippery bean until she climaxed.

Kelly was the last guest on my lips. The golden blonde wife of my fellow submissive porn star discarded her flimsy underwear before she clambered onto me. Tentatively, and almost fearful, as she positioned her peachy derriere on my forehead. 

I wanted my hands to guide her. The inexperienced domme needed encouragement to rest her frame on me. She seemed reluctant, hesitant, or scared to do what I longed for her to do. I could barely see it, but I craved to taste her pregnant cunt, and slide my tongue over the stranger's slit.

Twenty minutes of providing oral servitude to two magnificent specimens of confident, dominant womanhood had my lust boiling, and Kelly was just as fantastic. 

Large breasts, easily an "E" or "F" cup, sat atop a sizeable mound that suggested childbirth was imminent. But her fingers, delicately manicured with shimmering ruby nail varnish, that exuded femininity, elegance and confidence, and a wedding ring. 

Kelly was married. Her cherished, aromatic, shaved cunt had been betrothed to another, and for a short while, it was all mine. My lips gently touched her clit, and she jerked. I ran my tongue over her moistened slit, feeling for her delicate folds. I lapped at her pussy and suckled her button. The pregnant dominatrix gasped and groaned as I worshipped her womanhood. 

She ground her hips as my lips worked her exquisite cunt; our decadence may have looked sordid, but my mouth provided a sensual release for the delicious lady.

Kelly's buttocks tightened as her body pulsed and the pregnant dominatrix enjoyed her climax, rocking on my skull as her orgasm tore through her bulky frame.

Only afterwards did I realise that Simon, her husband, had been restrained at the feet of his lover and had witnessed his wife's sexual arousal reach a squealing, grunting crescendo. He had a front-row seat as his woman passionately rode the face of another man, who lavished love and care on her intimate slit.

She had sought carnal pleasure from another, and as the dominatrices left the room for the camera, I glanced at him, still constrained. Natasha untied me as Alfredo checked the footage, and we had a break. Simon was a little quiet, although all three women ran their hands over his smooth skin, admiring his hairless body. 

The padded bench, around a metre from the ground, was the source of the next video. The girls fastened both of us onto the wooden furniture, with our knees resting on the floor and our chests on the stuffed top. When I looked along the bench, I made eye contact with Simon, who had the slightly shocked and overwhelmed expression. 

I knew what was coming. Our exposed bottoms were an open invitation to the dominants. Shackled on all-fours was not something Natasha could ignore, and the sound of three sets of feet padding across the room in front of the camera made my heart rate quicken.

The slap of a paddle in a hand caused a shudder to tingle down my spine. I closed my eyes, regulated my breathing, and relaxed my muscles. I stopped thinking or concentrating and instead set my overactive mind to simmer. 

The gentle smack of a wooden paddle sparkled. I grunted in acknowledgement and sighed as the dominant woman rhythmically spanked my buttocks. Slow and steady, she sent me floating through subspace. This was not a wicked, violent display of female savagery, but a measured, sexual performance of elegant control. 

I was merciless in every sense of the word; I could not have stopped their dominance, even if they had not tied me to the bench. Their performance had left me paralysed; I could not move. They had ownership of my consciousness, as the domme lorded their supremacy over my psyche.

Each strike sent me further into helplessness. My mind fogged with contentment and submission as I drifted through an euphoria. Intoxicated with lustful bliss, I floated. 

I never realised for how long the women pummelled my backside, and I never heard Simon's treatment or his groans, despite them caning him. The world revolved around my mental fog of calming pain. I could not focus on anything until I came out of my delirium.