The Depths of Lust Ch. 02

I woke to my husband caressing my cheek, pushing my hair back and capturing my mouth with his. It brought me back to full wakefulness. His mouth was soft, kind, drinking me down, it also pressed my head down into the pillow and I felt his hands capture my own and press them above my head. John relinquished my mouth and my hands with what almost seemed like a gasp.

'Let's talk, shall we?' he whispered and I nodded.

'I owe you an apology, I shouldn't have gone out to the boat yesterday.' I wanted to get that out first, give some ground up front.

John nodded but gave a rye smile, 'Sasha, you never hid who you were, you tried to include me, tried to give me everything you liked, enact all your desires with me as the focus and because I feared I would take your autonomy, make you a slave to my desires that I couldn't start down that road with you.' I went to reach out and reassure him but he grabbed my hand and pushed it back down.

'I imagined that my wife was my equal and that slaves of the kind I preferred were an unacceptable way to treat the mother of my children, perhaps it still is...So I found slaves I could degrade elsewhere, women and men I could completely control down to the finest detail.'

I tried not to cry, so I blinked back the tears, and asked 'So, how many? Never mind, not important, better question. Has everyone who has been with you like that ever not really been in control, i.e., no say and with absolutely no way to stop it?'|

John tilted his head and thought about it with pursed lips, 'Maybe in the moment they might be so deep in the scene that they forget their ability to find an out. Miranda..' He waited for a look of annoyance or pain but honestly I didn't care so I just nodded, 'Go on.'

'Miranda was my Stable Master, she kept the folders of pre-discussion and organized the timing of visits, in order for the illusion to seem as deep as possible I didn't discuss limits with the slaves, she did. By having my interactions with them separate from the safety discussions, they got the deepest possible immersion. Their minds could imagine that I didn't know their safe words or limits.'

I shivered, I could see the appeal in that, like a haunted house with one last attraction the fun fair didn't install.

'Did you ever go over their limits?' and John nodded with a twist of the mouth,

'Not too often but with slaves that stick around more than a few months there are always mistakes, usually Miranda is nearby to pull it in but sometimes I just have to apologize after the fact. If they insist on an apology in person it always breaks the immersion pretty much permanently. If they accept it through Miranda then they usually stick around for the usual amount of time. Which for the record is finite, it's part of the initial contract.'

I nodded but sat silently mulling it all over, as the seconds ticked by he shifted uncomfortably and I didn't like it. I like him in control, certain, not second guessing. Uncertainty, even handedness would be the death of us once again.

'Sir?' His head snapped up from his fidgeting fingers, 'Yes Sasha?' his voice caught, and there it was, the hope, the smolder.

'Tell me how it is going to be. We are equals and I will never get the same immersion as the rest of your slaves, but I don't want that level of immersion from you. I will know and you will know that I can use a safe word if I need to, that I 'could' leave if I wanted to. Make me negotiate, make me write a contract, make me your mare, or your stable master but please let me see inside the fantasy, let me be in there with you. And never apologize to me again for all of this, it's not a good look on you. Respectfully. Sir.'

John looked at me, his eyes getting hard but the heat at the back was there and growing. As were his pants.

'I have a selection of people down stairs that have never been involved with my perversions previously. Other than Miranda they have no idea of what I like and what I don't like.' he sighed, 'In my anger yesterday, I made them promises about being allowed to use you and I feel obliged to keep those promises.'

John steepled his fingers, the tips touching his lips, 'If you would...no, I have decided I will take you down and have you serve them in any manner they desire, trust me, their ideas are things you will like. They are sitting there squirming, imagining how awful they are going to be to you and they know nothing of how much you will enjoy it all.'

My husband looked at me intently, I think he was looking for uncertainty, a refusal. There was also another feeling behind it, if I couldn't take this, we were never going to make it past this evening.

I nodded, 'Whatever you want Sir.' and I put my arms out, wrists together, inviting him to take me and let the crowd he had gathered use my body to fulfill their fantasies.

He took his tie off and wrapped it slowly, firmly and methodically around my wrists, quality silk firmly tied, good odds it would be ruined as much as my insides before the end of tomorrow.

John spoke as he wrapped them tight, 'When the crowd from today's activities goes home, I will sit with you and negotiate face to face. Tonight you get no say and for extra flavor to please me, I would enjoy myself more if I didn't catch you overly enjoying yourself.'

Well shit, that was going to be impossible, he wanted me to suck and fuck every cock and cunt where ever he was going to take me and it was because he wanted me to do it that I wanted it almost more than oxygen.

He took another tie, whipped the covers of the bedclothes back and slid my legs into his lap, he bound my ankles, again, silk, surely destined for ruination. 'I am going to take you downstairs now to the group assembled, Miranda will be the ring leader in that she will make sure you take no permanent damage tonight. The others have no idea what role she plays in my life and you would be smart to follow your earlier instructions and keep your mouth quiet. Nod if you understand.'

I nodded, I was dripping with excitement, who would be downstairs? Would they be creative or just wank over me? I was not going to know many of those answers immediately because John grabbed my sleep mask and covered my eyes. 'Don't take it off unless they take it off, all I want to hear is you gasping, you crying, you choking or you slurping.' He tapped my cheek and he clipped the old bruise from yesterday making me wince. 'Got it?' and I nodded once more.

My world flipped as John picked me up and placed me over his shoulder. God I loved his strength, I wanted this bull to split me again right now. Alas it was not to be, but his hard and broad shoulder muscles felt good against my belly as he bounced his way down the stairs to the basement.

John reached the bottom landing and I could hear low music and an excited mix of voices coming from the games room. There was either a young man or a female, older and gravely, but it was such a mix that I couldn't make head or tail of it. Then I heard the fat fuck from next door, his wheezing mouth breathing ways disgusted me, and yet, the idea of being given over to his imagination with no say in the matter almost recreated the river Nile between my legs.

The door was opened and Miranda's voice cut the airwaves, 'This is the slut Sasha, she is your toy to do whatever you like to within the following limits.' I heard her hands with rings tapping loudly on the granite bench top of the small bar.

'Hey! Listen up or you are out as fast as you got here.'

There was some creaking on the bar seats but only the slow grinding music played while Miranda continued.

'Sasha has been a very bad wife, she has cheated on John in ways that I will leave to your imagination, however she has agreed to being punished in the manner of John's choosing. That is to say, you lot, people she would normally never let touch her or so much as catch a whiff of her hair as she passed by, are allowed to do whatever sexual fantasy you want to her provided it leaves no lasting marks.'

I could hear some rustling and the clearing of a throat or two, Miranda's voice came again 'Yes Tim?'

Tim? Did I know Tim? If so I hadn't given them the time of day to remember someone called Tim, then the wheeze started up and I knew the people in the room must be using aliases, fat fuck was Marlon if memory served me.

His nasal voice grated my nerves, 'Is Sasha on birth control or is that part of the punishment?'

John's voice cut in, 'Sasha is not able to get pregnant at this time, but you are welcome to try 'Tim'.

Marlon aka 'Tim' giggled at that, but likely he was just nervous, how the fuck was he going to get his cock past his wobbly belly?

John lifted my midriff off his shoulder and carried me over to 'Tim', I knew that is where he had taken me as I could feel the heat coming off a large human. I held my breath as I expected him to smell awful, he did sometimes, like he had taken a shit and couldn't reach around his bulk to wipe up.

I was eventually forced to take a whiff, for once he must have taken care because his clothes didn't smell bad, or his body odor was through them.

John's voice came again, 'Sasha is allowed to speak once to you all right now, I am going to ask her some questions and you're going to listen attentively.'

This was new but I was pretty sure I knew where this was going, he was going to get me to publicly say in front of all of them I was here of my own free will and going to do my best to please all of them in order to make it up to John.

Sure enough, I hit the nail on the head, well mostly. I willingly spouted it all.

'Sasha, why are you here?' John's voice growled, I replied 'I am here because I cheated on you with a group of deviants who fucked me every which way till I had liters of cum running out of my pussy and arse, and still more cum churning in my stomach from all the cock I sucked. I brought the mess home to you without so much as thought for your feelings or the mess it would leave on the carpet.'

John's hand tightened on the back of my neck, 'And you did all that without so much as a thought for all your friends and family, without thinking about the example it would set for your daughter, without giving your neighbors the chance to show you a good time, without even asking me if you could go.' I felt his hand's pressure, he was angry again at the thought of it, not that I had done it I am sure now, but that I didn't ask him, or allow him to go with me.

Also it could be because I hadn't yet given him any details of exactly where or what I had done yet and hearing it without warning was additional sting. I was sure I would more than make up for it.

John spoke one last time 'No permanent marks, no choking till she is unconscious, other than that, I leave her to your tender care.' The last comment was met with some nervous tittering but I felt his hands leave my neck and his heat move away from me, the door behind me opened and closed, his feet faded up the stairs.

The basement was the games room you might expect in a house of wealthy people, open space, tv screens, pool table, a small gym and the obligatory completely unnecessary full bath room with steam shower.

I hoped that they would get creative with all the objects available to them, perhaps someone would think to get one of the bottles from the bar and use it as a dildo? Maybe someone would use the access to the garage to get the power saw and attach something interesting. But really it started in the usual way of inexperienced bumbling sex amateurs.

There was the "zip" of pants and the rustle of clothes, for fuck sake, too soon! Like at least tie me to something!

Miranda walked me over to the table tennis table, that table always has somewhat of a sharp edge to it, she shoved me hip first into it, then as she walked around to the other side, dragged my head down with my hair to touch my forehead to the table top. I could feel the grip of the specialized paint coating its surface against my cheek. My arse was tilted up and I knew without having to be told I should keep my knees straight and raise my hinny.

I was exposed, my excitement clearly glistening on my pussy lips, with my sight gone I could hear the lift in breath from the others.

Miranda called out to them, 'In order that you actually can last the distance we might have to take the edge off some of you. I recommend that all of you one at a time come and slide whatever appendage you like into her tight little cunt and then cum on her arse or face as you please.'

The fat bastard Marlon moved first, I felt his lumbering bulk move across the floor, his steps scuffing rather than fully lifting. Then his broad hand ran over my raised cheeks, I wanted to hide my disgust but I flinched as I felt the overly soft skin of a sedentary man's hands. They crept down ward and I felt the pudgy fingers split me open and worm their way inside. His nails were short but not because of manicure, the edges were ragged, like he nervously chewed them.

It didn't matter, I was an oil slick with disgust, why the fuck did my revulsion equal turned on? But it was obvious really in hindsight, my master had commanded it and I wanted to please him. My suffering pleased him and so the feedback loop was complete.

I moaned at the invasion, half a whine of complaint and half a deep felt utterance of satisfaction. It was the starting gun for action in the rest of them. I felt the air shift as an unidentified number made their way off the bar stools to join around the table, touching my skin, groping under my prone body for my tits and fingers prizing at my mouth.

Marlon undid the silk around my ankles and kicked my feet wider as I heard him fumbling at his belt, he laughed at his own ineptitude and growled out 'I wanna go first, I don't think I have the stamina of some of the rest of you. God damn she has me hard.'

There was an agreeable titter from around the table and among the voices there was definitely a female, well shit, they would last a lot longer in the assault of my body than the men. I wondered if she bought a strap on or if she would just get creative.

I could feel Marlon pressing his gut up against my rear and a fist against my entrance that must have been gripping his cock but I was willing to bet his dick was too short to get past his stomach and penetrate me more than an inch if he was lucky. I decided to help him out and get him inside, I shoved my arse back hard and was rewarded with what felt like a small fist parting my nether lips.

Marlon laughed, 'she fucking wants it!' and shoved forward hard with both hands on my hips pulling me onto him. Fuck! I moaned as he stretched me out buried four inches deep, his cock must have been seven inches to get past that gut to make four inside me, but he was thick! I could feel it was all him, no enhancements, all throbbing flesh, gristly, veiny, with what felt like some kind of giant mole on the top side.

He grunted as he bottomed out as far as he could and I gasped to match him, the balled fist he called a cock needed every bit of my moisture or I would have torn and been useless for anyone to follow, though I recon they would have. At shove number five I felt myself drooling a little as the wall of his fleshy belly smashed my arse like it was going to tip it up onto the table. His hands were sweating and he started losing his grip, to make up for it, he plowed forward harder and the whole table tennis table scooted forwards with a screech.

'Holy shit she is wet and tight!' he exclaimed grunting excitedly.

At shove number seven I felt a cock shoved into my left hand and my right dragged off the table, rotated and fed up a hairy pussy. I do consider myself to be quite dexterous but patting your head, drawing circles on your stomach can be difficult to achieve when someone's cock is thick enough to press your vagina's passage hard enough to make it feel like you might be taking a shit at the same time.

So I did my best, trying to remember to stroke the cock in my left hand hand and to crook my fingers on the other hand to wiggle them inside which ever cunt they were stuck in but by the ninth shove from the now wheezing and gasping man behind me, he really had the full portion of my attention.

He was just slamming hard and slow, grinding as deep as he could at the end of each stroke, the little squeak of the table legs drowned out by the yelling in my brain, 'don't you fucking stop you fat mother fucker! I need to cum!' but I held my tongue right up till that twelfth jack hammer.

He was supposed to pull out but we all knew that wasn't going to happen, I didn't want it to happen. When I felt the already over-thickened cock swelled, I slammed my arse back as hard as I could, I wanted just one more inch, deep as he could manage. I felt a fresh three quarter inch stretch me just as he blew a watery teaspoon of goop up my cunny.

He roared, his voice hiding my moan of disappointment, some of his spit landed on my shoulder blades, he might have blacked out as I felt someone quickly step up behind him to make sure his rocking and twitching form didn't fall backwards.

I heard another woman's voice and the brush of a dress touching my ankles as whoever it was lead his shaking form away to one of the home theater couches, she commented as she left, 'Jesus Marlon, if I had known you were packing that kinda tool under your belly I would be around to ruin you every other week.'

I knew that voice, it was Carol for sure, a lively British late fifties something who had a twinkle and a wise word for those who stopped in at her Tudor replica home for a cup of tea. That she was here surprised me, the reason was to come later and come later with her I would.

Marlon's load was minor but even so I could sense Miranda shaking her head and hear her tutting, 'Stan would you go get the water squeezy bottle off the bar? Put it in her pussy and flush it out before you get started, unless of course you prefer to put your swizzle stick in someone else's milkshake.'

My fingers found themselves empty as 'Stan' withdrew his cock from my left to acquire the squeezy bottle and so I could concentrate on the hairy little pussy that was getting wetter and wetter above the fingers of my right hand. I could feel the woman rocking backwards and forwards on my fingers, her own hands had reached down between her legs to press me hard into the tight warm space.

She wiggled her hips in a corkscrew motion now, little whimpers leaking out as the heel of my palm cupped her mound and ground against her clit. I curled my fingers upwards, seeking that little rough patch of skin on the inside that would indicate I had found the G spot. Found, pressed, stroked, and there it was, the shudder and clamping down on my hand with her legs. The brief buckle of the knees and the gasping sob of air being sucked down between the shuddering belly and torso.

I wished I could see her face, I knew her cum must be beautiful to witness, so I guess I would just have to wait till someone let the light back in.

The bottle tip was cold, Stan had filled it with cold water, I think he knew it should be warm because he laughed as I shrieked a little at the cold liquid invasion. The water found its target and at least diluted Marlons deposit before exiting and splashing onto the floor, again amateurs! But Miranda was all over it. 'Jill? Would you be a dear and go and get some towels from the sauna and wipe the floor?' and the woman who was previously riding my fingers vanished to go and do as she was asked.

Jill, my housekeeper, I know, she is the stereotype, the Hispanic thirty something that looks way too young but I know for a fact she is a mother. And now she is cumming on my hand, I wonder if she bothered to clear it with her husband before coming to this shindig, perhaps he was here? Either way I was going to keep her on after because if she was game, there would be more game.