An adult stories – Model Slave Pt. 03 Ch. 01 by Oupa99,Oupa99 I read Centerpiece by DanielleKitten, and that gave me the inspiration for the first chapter of Model Slave III, but The Midnight Lurker, and Masters_in_your_Mind also have great centerpiece stories. There have been many other centerpiece stories, but I used this one as my guide. I did send her a note asking for permission to base my story on hers, but never received a reply, so I went ahead hoping that she would view it as a compliment. If not, it is all my fault for going ahead. Still, this is only the first chapter of a multi chapter story.
This is basically an erotic love story and of course all characters are over 21. It will definitely not start out as a love story, but it will get there. My editor is sick and only partially finished an edit and I hope it is okay, but in addition, other chapters will be coming out slower. The Model Slave Series contains BDSM, bondage, exhibitionism, and lots of kinky sex. If you don’t like these things then this story may not be for you. Please vote often (fives are most welcome) and of course please leave constructive comments.
PS – This is Model Slave III is the ending of the Model Slave series. If you have fantasies, ideas, etc for new stories please let me know, that includes twists on existing stories and I will see what I can do. Many of my stories have started out that way. I really appreciate the many ideas all of you have sent me. The Medieval Queen Series, the next chapter of Venus Ascending, the Nancy Drew series and Fairy Tales are all in the works because of your ideas.
Model Slave III
Chapter 1
Emma felt totally exposed and while there was a little embarrassment, she was also excited about having men ogle her naked form. The glass table was cold and hard and the only thing she had on were the wrist and ankle cuffs they used to bind her to the table. She could feel her flesh shrinking from the way it felt under her. She also realized that her naked ass was just as exposed as the nude front. Her arms had been stretched over her head and her legs had been stretched wide and tied to the legs of the rolling table.
A shiver stole over her, and she felt her nipples aching and engorging. Of course, being naked as the day she was born could have something to do with the chill. As she was told, she managed to relax on her back, barely able to wait until the glass table warmed from her body’s heat. However, before it warmed the men around her began to tighten the slip knots on her limbs with her arms and legs stretching to the point, she was afraid they might pop out of joint.
She felt her ribs lift, and it became harder to breathe. Emma looked down at her body and noticed her breasts were raised high on her chest and her nipples were achingly hard. Her back popped and she swore that her flat tummy was touching her backbone. She couldn’t see anything below her swollen breasts, but she felt the strain on her legs, hips and stomach.
When she arrived, she was in full makeup, but the workers had cleaned the makeup from her face exposing her light mask of freckles across her nose and beneath her eyes. This made her look much younger and to many suiters sexier. However, Emma tried to hide her freckles, preferring a more mature and classier look. Still, several of the workers ogled her mask on her face that gave her a younger yet exotic look.
Oddly she was more conscience of her exposed freckles than being naked on the table. While being naked and exposed to the workers around her felt excited, being tied up and helpless added a thrill she had never experienced. She had always been curious about bondage but never felt brave enough to actually do it. Now she didn’t have a choice and her body trembled while her mind began to envision men doing whatever they wanted to her. They hadn’t even started and her body was aching for someone to take advantage of her vulnerable condition.
She glanced around and could tell her stretched naked body was affecting the workers. All of them were giving her longing glances and most of them had bulges between their legs. As thrilled as she was, she knew she had to act humiliated of else they would think of her as a shameless slut and treat her as one. Maybe that wouldn’t be bad, but they had to earn it.
“Not so tight!” She wriggled and groused.
When her agent told her about the gig and what kind of money she was going to make, she was torn. She needed the money but the whole thing sounded weird. Back in Oklahoma this would never happen, but in LA anything could happen and often did. Still, she assumed that she would be wearing the tiny bikini she had brought. Now she had been told to lose the bikini, she would be naked or forfeit the money and the job. Well, you know the old saying, “when you assume you make an ass out of U & me.”
After several months of waiting for a gig, Emma’s agent finally got her something that would help pay the bills. Her real name was Emma and she loved her real name, but since middle school her nickname had been Barbie, because she was the spitting image of the doll with the same name. As she grew and blossomed it was as if the doll had been patterned after her. So, when she went to LA to further her modeling career, she just started using her nom-del-a-plom.
LA had been a bad choice to start a modeling career because there were literally thousands of Barbies just like her. Her stunning looks got her an agent, but she had been through three agents since arriving and none had given her any jobs to help pay her bills, till now. But even this job was kinda sketchy. She was to be a sexy centerpiece at a bachelor party. Normally she would have given them the middle finger, but her funds were running thin and she needed any money she could get.
“You look a little chilled.” the chef remarked as his eyes roamed over her succulent body then stopped transfixed, ogling her succulent breasts and turgid nipples. Her nipples seemed to appreciate the lechery and hardened before his eyes.
She couldn’t help but glance down, seeing the small brown tips of her nipples grow tight, thrusting skyward and even she thought they looked very inviting. “Yeah, ya think? Remember when I asked you to warm up this thing I’m strapped to, well?.” She knew she was being rude but for the life of her, she couldn’t find it in her to care. “Can we just get on with this?” Despite her outrageous act, having all these men and women ogling and gawking at her naked form was electrifying. However, the butterflies inside her womb couldn’t wait to experience the main event.
Modeling had always been like that, having people ogle you as you strutted around in skimpy or non-existent outfits. Emma didn’t know about other models, but she suspected that like her all models got a thrill from ogling throngs of people around her. To be a model you have to like showing off your face, body, hands, abs, breasts, hair, whatever you are modeling. Emma was enjoying the attention, since it had been a while since she was on display or in front of a camera.
“Yeah, sure, OK.” the chef muttered, pulling down on his white jacket.
“Turn your head to the side,” he ordered. She did as he said, feeling his fingers searching in her hair. He pulled out the rubber band she’d used to keep her thick, golden colored hair back, slipping it into his pocket before he finger combed her hair. The golden waves and curls looked startlingly brilliant against the translucence of the glass table, and he arranged it the way he wanted it to look, the length was just long enough to touch the outside edges of the table.
“All you really have to do is just have to lay there and be the gorgeous centerpiece that I’m creating. Barbie, you have to remember you can’t move no matter what happens. That is why we have you tied tightly to the glass table.” He’d told her, a grin on his face. “I’m going to make you a fantastic living centerpiece and soon you will be the delicious dessert and climax for my epicurean meal. You may not taste as good as my dinner, but I have no doubt that the patrons will find you as my dessert very appealing.”
“You want me all bound up on a table, have fruit and other food draped over me artistically and lie there, not moving, while your patrons feel me up while they eat?” She groused with very little enthusiasm, but she knew being the dessert for a bunch of horny men would be wild. Inside her butterflies were going wild at the thought. She had never been any part of something like this, but now she couldn’t wait to have twenty men licking, slurping, and nibbling on her naked body.
“No one is going to hurt you. I know you are going to want to move around when they start touching you, but any movement will wreck the display.” he said, reminding her with a small tweak on her petulant nipples, that she was his slave for the moment. His eyes slowly roamed over her deliciously displayed form as he talked.
“I don’t have to do anything else except lay here?” Emma asked with serious doubt in her voice.
“Nope, just lie there. Oh, you may get touched, fondled and aroused, but you are not allowed to have a climax, squirm around or fidget.” He looked at her with a stern glare and added, “As a matter of fact if you move, we have to tighten your bonds so you won’t move anymore.” His grin at the last comment, let her know that he relished the idea of tightening her bonds.
Emma took the last part of that conversation as a warning and felt a shiver of dread. Now that the time was here, her stomach was a mass of butterflies, and she could feel gooseflesh erupting on her skin. She couldn’t help complaining, “How can you tighten my bonds any tighter, my joints are almost out of socket now?”
“There is always a way. Okay, I want you to have a dreamy look, kind of like you just woke up after some very naughty dream. I would love for you to keep a seductive look on your face and as the men begin eating off of you, feeling you and caressing you. A little moan or erotic whimper would be great, but only your face can show what you feel and no sexy seductive body movements.”
The chef began to pull and tug on her form trying to get her into the position he wanted. Emma moved as he wanted, but bound as she was, she had very little movement, still she wiggled into the position she thought he wanted. But as the evening progressed, he kept moving her until she finally shifted her torso and hips into a position that left her comfortable and didn’t offend his artistic sensibilities. She had to admit though that she felt very exposed as both her butt and her pussy were out there for anyone to see. It grew worse as she felt his hands on her legs, pushing the straight one back and bending the other one so that it was toward him more. That position raised her hips just a bit more and she knew anyone standing at the bottom of the table would get a fantastic view of her bald pussy.
He finished quickly and then she felt the touch of his fingers at the juncture of her thighs and a cool oily substance that he rubbed into her suddenly nude-feeling skin. She didn’t dare lift her head to see what he’d done and could only gasp when he spread apart the lips of her pussy and rubbed his fingers against her clit.
“I knew you’d like it,” he said, smirking at her. Before she could speak, he leaned down and licked one of her hard nipples before turning away.
She didn’t even have the chance to be indignant at his familiarities before two more men were standing around her. They carried huge bowls of fruit and the chef held a large green wrapped package of flowers.
“Do not move, you remember what will happen?” he ordered.
White daisies were coiled into her hair, strawberries and grapes were scattered around her body. Apples were sliced, formed into shapes and laid against her skin. Peaches and pears were also cut into shapes and glued to her skin using some kind of sugary syrup. Leafy greens were fanned out under the fruit that was on the table, making her feel like some kind of pagan sacrifice, or like a turkey at Thanksgiving.
An apple was cored and sliced; the rings glued to each of her breasts so that her nipples showed through the holes in the centers. Strawberries, matched as perfectly in size as Chef could make them, were glued over the holes using the same sugary syrup. She felt as if she were wearing some kinky new kind of bikini. But at least she was now covered somewhat, but she knew once the crowd arrived it wouldn’t be long.
More of the syrup was ladled over her, running in trails down her skin, leaving it to shine and making her shiver. One of the other men made curving lines of blueberries over her hip and down her stomach. The other took slices of kiwi and dotted her legs with them.
Then the chef picked up a paintbrush and dipped it into the liquid, running it around her eyes and across her cheeks. A mask was formed, using raspberries and black berries.
She felt the brush on other parts of her body, but whatever they were using to “paint” her was warm, bordering on hot and slightly thick. “What’s that you are covering me with?” She couldn’t help asking.
“Melted dark chocolate, but I did cool it down for you.” The chef answered, showing her the small palate, he held that had small tubs of different colored chocolate. He swirled designs around the fruit, drawing an ivy vine that bloomed with chocolate flowers. Despite the fact that he said he cooled the chocolate down it was still very warm and sensual as he covered her body.
It took them less than half an hour to create their “living centerpiece” while she lay there, feeling more like a pagan sacrifice than a human. Finally, the Chef stepped forward once more. In his hand was a huge white flower. It looked like a beautiful white Easter lily, but it was the biggest one I’d ever seen. She looked at him with eyes wide as he traveled down her torso and asked, “What are you going to do with that?”
“The piece de resistance,” he exclaimed. She felt his fingers once more, parting her pussy lips with the thick stem of the flower sliding between them. Emma gasped as the stem rubbed her clit and G-spot as he wiggled it inside her. He stepped back to examine his work, coming back to fidget with the flower, which rubbed against her clit each time he moved it.
Her hips began to sway with involuntary reactions to his manipulations and she whimpered as the chef toyed with her nether regions. The entire decoration process, plus all the ogling eyes had started an erotic tremor inside her, but there had been no direct carnal touching, until now. She was already wet inside from everything that had been done to her and the chef’s every touch fired up her primal sexual cravings to a whole new level.
Each and every touch, stroke, paint, or placement of some food product on her skin, stoked the fiery butterflies in her womb. By the time they finished decorating her she was as turned on as she had ever been and really couldn’t wait to feel fingers and hopefully mouths nipping and caressing her painted skin. Her hips wiggled a bit with the chef’s manipulation of the flower and she couldn’t help the fiery passion building inside her highly decorated form.
“Are you done yet?” She whimpered, hating the fact that this whole thing had gotten her so turned on. She still had hours to lie on this table while the attendees plucked the fruit off of her body. But her imagination of what was going to happen coupled with the anticipation only continued to stoke the fiery need inside her.
The thought made her even hotter. She knew she was an exhibitionist, and all of this turned her on. However, the thoughts of what was to come made her squirm on the platter. She knew there would be a crowd of men ogling her craftly displayed body, but they would also be touching her and eating all the chef’s creation as they touched her.
“Yes, impatient one. We are finished. Now we saw you move and if you continue, you’ll spoil the effect.” The chef yelled for his helpers and Emma felt her limbs being stretched, by her bonds, even further. Maybe it was all the relentless sensuality, but the stretching felt so sensuous, adding to the wanton cravings fluttering inside her pussy. The chef stepped back and she saw a flash of white light.
“Wait a minute, no one said anything about pictures.” But secretly she wanted more photos and more people to see the photos. With the stretching and now the photos, the passionate fire inside her built to incredible proportions and she was finding it difficult to catch her breath. Her chest rose and fell in gasping heaves wobbling her spectacular breasts with some of the decorations sliding into her cleavage.
“Don’t move!” Chef snarled, reaching out and putting back the fruit that had fallen off of her. He took another picture and then moved around the long table, getting shots from every angle.
“Voila,” he smirked when he was finished. He waved at his assistants as they moved her long glass cart towards the door. “Have fun, girlie.”
“Have fun?” She couldn’t believe she’d heard him right. She was sticky and covered in fruit and chocolate with a flower stem rubbing against her clit and driving her crazy. This was supposed to be fun, well she knew that by the end of the night she would be quivering with an unrealized desire. Already she was finding it hard to stay still and with her hips squirming, her panting breathes pitched her chest hurling her breasts to and fro.
Swinging doors parted and she was wheeled into a huge room full of tables. The air conditioning was going full blast and she could feel her nipples tighten even more. The chocolate began to harden pulling on her skin. Emma was going to end up with pneumonia, she just knew it. Ending up in the hospital with pneumonia would be a perfect way to get even with her agent. He’d never live down the guilt of being the cause of her death.
Someone touched her hip in one of the few places that wasn’t covered with fruit, chocolate or flowers and she glanced up.
“Wow, you look incredible.” It was one of the Chef’s assistants, and as she blinked up at him, she couldn’t help but think how cute he was. His chiseled features, short, cropped hair, and a day’s growth of beard made her rethink because he was ruggedly handsome. His shirt was stretched tightly over a massive chest and huge arms but dipped into a tight muscular waist. Emma felt her already turned-on body, gushing with sexual overtones about this guy.
“Thanks, I think,” She felt the blush that heated her cheeks and hoped the fruit would cover it.
He reached out, straightening one of the locks of her hair that had slipped forward. His hand hovered around her, obviously wanting to caress her or maybe taste her. “I’m Steve,” he said.
“Emma er Barbie. My real name is Emma, but my model’s name is Barbie” She replied. “I’d shake hands but…” One of her hands was painted with chocolate flowers, the other was covered with blueberries and cherries and both were bound above her head.
“We don’t want Chef on our cases,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder. “The man’s a lunatic but he does know what he’s doing when it comes to this stuff. You look amazing, gorgeous and very delicious.”
“Really? I don’t know, I kind of thought I’d rather forget this entire experience.” She groused, hoping she didn’t sound as self-conscious as she felt.
“Really,” he replied. “After this is over, if you want, I can show you the pictures we took. For now, look at yourself in the mirror on the ceiling.”
She looked up and saw the masterpiece that was her gleaming from the ceiling. Wow, was all she could think as she studied her athletic form stretched such that her body was all sexy, erotic angles, shadows, and edges. Her tiny waist led to her ribs being lifted, dancing under her stretched skin with her breasts shimmering.
Her face had a look of excited anticipation underneath the chocolate, but her overall display was just awesome. She looked as if she had a terrific tan with all the chocolate painted on her and all the fruit hiding and enhancing the titillating effects. Emma couldn’t tell it was her, but whoever was there was exceptionally gorgeous and worth devouring. She kept staring at herself in the mirror until she realized Steve was talking to her.
“If you didn’t want to do it, then why are you here?” Steve played with some of the pieces of fruit, acting like he was still working on her as they talked. She felt his hands touching her and shivered.
“I needed the money, and I am trying to work as a model.” she added sheepishly.
“Okay, well, I gotta get back to work,” Steve said. He let his thumb run across one of the few spots of clean skin on her body, winking as he turned away.
New tingles of nervous energy fluttered in her belly. Why hadn’t she realized that someone she wanted to know might be here, maybe even one of the guys that would be pulling fruit off of her? God, she was going to kill her agent.
Minutes passed and she relaxed, realizing that there wasn’t much she could do besides jump up and run. But as bound as she was, she couldn’t even do that. Even if she could, Emma couldn’t do that to herself or her agent, she knew this gig meant a lot to him, both of them needed the money and it would boost their prestige. A roar of male laughter caught her attention, and she moved the tiniest bit, trying to see what was going on.
Emma needn’t have moved. Men swarmed into the room, tuxedoed and shined, they carried crystal glasses full of golden bubbles. She felt the eyes on her as she kept her position, wishing she could slink away. While at the same time wanting to preen in front of all these hunky men.
She could close her eyes and pretend she wasn’t there. There were about twenty men and she could see Steve, his eyes riveted upon her as all the men walked in.
“Emma,” he whispered as he walked by. “You look amazing. You’ll knock them dead.”
“I feel stupid and exposed,” She growled at him. “Everyone is going to owe me for this one, even though I agreed to this.”
“Yeah, I’ll pay.” Steve said, a twinkle in his brown eyes. He reached over, playing with the flower that covered her sex, moving it ever so slightly. His smile grew even bigger as he heard her gasp, and she narrowed her eyes to him.
“Watch it buddy! But don’t stop unless you don’t want some of me.” She hissed.
He laughed. “I know you really love the attention,” he smirked. He bent and before her disbelieving eyes, smelled the flower he was playing with, his head so close to her body she could feel a silky brush as his hair touched her.
Shock had her speechless and he lifted his head and winked before turning to walk away.
“Gentleman, if you’ll take your seats, dinner will be served and then we’ll get to the highlight of the evening.” Chairs were moved, the clink of silverware and China sounding loudly in her ears. Toasts were given even as waiters moved through the room keeping glasses filled, distributing expertly cooked cuisine that smelled amazing.
Emma felt her stomach contract and growl. Embarrassingly she heard a laugh close by and a deep voice resonated, “I think our centerpiece missed dinner.”
Another voice chimed in, “Well, we can’t have her passing out on us due to hunger and missing the main event, can we?”
“No, where would our manners be?”
She heard the sound of a chair scraping back and then saw a wide black and white covered chest in front of her eyes. Looking up, she could see a large man, his body muscled not fat, holding a fork in front of her.
“Open up, pretty one,” he said, waving a bite of rare, red meat in front of her.
“I-I…” was all she got out before he pushed the food into her mouth.
The taste exploded in her mouth, rare prime rib with a delicate mushroom sauce, and she couldn’t help the moan of pleasure that escaped her lips.
She swallowed and another fork was offered, and then another. Emma had a group of tuxedoed men standing over her, feeding her tidbits of their own dinners. There was just something slightly decadent about being surrounded by these men, most of them well built, handsome, exuding power and sexuality with their scent.
Then she felt a hand upon her hip, a finger tracing through the chocolate flowers, a yum of delight as she was tasted for the first time. Another hand reached out, plucking a strawberry from the table, his hand brushing against her ass cheek.
Someone bent over her, his tongue slipping out and trailing up her leg, licking up the sweet, syrupy liquid. Another mouth was at her throat, nibbling on skin left bare from syrup or chocolate, tasting only her own flavor. Now it began and the deep throbbing passion roared back to life. Emma fought to keep her body still, but her chest heaved and her hips shimmied.
She heard a whimpering moan and realized that it was her as more hands, tongues and lips experienced her deliciously decorated form. There were still only a few men sampling her inviting body and truly she didn’t know if it was her or the delights covering her. Her skin seemed especially sensitive and every lick coaxed an erotically muscular tremor from her torso.
“Having fun?” She heard Steve say and she saw him amongst those gathered around her. His eyes were bright, lustful, sending a thrill of naughtiness through her. She wondered if he would join the men who were nibbling at the strawberries covering her nipples. Would he want to do the things to her that she could feel were being done already?
But he just winked, turning his back and walking off. She followed him with her eyes, seeing him talk to Chef before someone blocked her view. She heard a booming voice of the chef, “Gentlemen this is your dessert, try her, by the way her name is Barbie. Since the groom is named Ken, he gets first taste.”
The strawberry covering her right nipple was gone, a tongue slowly began lapping at the engorged peak. The man lapping and nipping at her nipple grunted, “I’m already enjoying my desert, but I’m not stopping. These nipples are delicious, but I wonder what that Lilly tastes like?”
Emma quivered at the thought of him devouring her pussy and slurping her clit. The chef’s words came back to her, “You are not allowed to climax.” She wondered if she could hold back her orgasm, because she could already feel the passion inside her building. She fought to keep still like the chef had commanded, but her body had other thoughts and micro tremors rippled over her impassioned form.
Another whimpering moan escaped as some teeth bit down on her right nipple. Now everyone in the room was sampling her decorated form and she couldn’t stop the rampant sexual tremors in her body. More hands, tongues and lips experienced her delightfully highlighted form and there wasn’t any place not covered by some voracious man. Her especially sensitive skin rippled with micro tremors and every lick coaxed an erotically muscular tremor from her pussy and womb.
Another tongue was at the small of her back, licking up the chocolate that had pooled there. Men vied for position around the small table holding her table and for a single instant, she wondered if cannibals ever did this to the missionaries they captured in all those jungle movies while waiting for the water to boil in the huge pots.
Emma felt her needy passion building along with her body’s squirming response. It seemed as if every part of her body had lips, tongues or fingers goading her towards the climax she craved. She fought the waves of ecstasy that rippled through her, even though her glory in the desperate need to feel everything. Emma looked down and saw her body covered with men’s heads and hands and it only made her feel more of what they were doing to her form. One gentleman latched onto her left nipple and munched on her as if she were his last meal.
Someone tried to lift her foot inches from the table, but as tightly as she was bound, he couldn’t raise it and settled as she felt a warm mouth close over her toes, sucking and then licking at the sensitive pads. She wanted badly to squirm but too many hands were on her now, too many mouths licking or sucking at her skin, teasing her nerve endings. Emma was on sensory meltdown, her muscles danced beneath her skin, jerking with building ecstasy. She started to writhe in pleasure within the limits of her bondage, but no one could see because she was covered with hands, heads and not to mention the fruit salad on her skin.
She tried to arch her back but was pushed back on her back, the flower plucked from between her thighs. Someone shouted Steve’s name and she saw the man holding the flower toss it to him, like it was some kind of trophy. She felt juice from the strawberries that had been crushed when they’d put her on her back and felt it mix with the blueberries that were pushed off of her by eager hands.
Her thighs were spread, someone lifting a slice of peach and rubbing it over her thick lower lips, making sure it was coated in her womanly nectar. The gentleman brought the fruit to his mouth, smiling as he bit into it, savoring her taste mixed with the fruit. Warm wetness surrounded both her nipples, tongues sliding over her stomach while fingers played with her thighs and slid into her pussy.
In the beginning, nerves had her stiff, but soon she was a massive bundle of need, her hips jerking every time someone touched her clit. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the group of men around her but feeling them all the same. Moans and groans filled the air, and for a moment she was surprised to know that they came from her. She wasn’t a prude, but she was usually pretty quiet during sex.
She couldn’t call this normal sex, but it was the most exciting thing she had ever done. Mouths moved over her, licking and nibbling, sucking and biting gently at the fruit still on her. Hands plucked and played, one sliding through the wetness between her thighs, a thick finger pushing into her pussy. It seemed as if there were hundreds of hands, fingers, mouths and lips teasing and plucking at the most erogenous on her body and the wild fiery passion just kept building.
Tied and bound as she was, there was nothing she could do but live in this moment. But she didn’t really want it to end or even put up a fight, she wanted it to go on. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this kind of debauchery with gasps, whimpers and cries of need escaping her trembling lips. Emma’s body reveled in depravity and tried to squirm showing her craving for what was happening, but her tightly stretched form could only tremble in her building passion.
Her head was the only thing that could really move and it thrashed back and forth with the wild decadence plainly written on her face. Her hair swirled around her face as her face expressed her need for more of what they were doing to her. Soon her hair was full of chocolate and fruit with clumps of hair sticking to her face and shoulders.
Emma’s deep heaving gasps made her ribs explode against her skin leaving the contrast between her concave belly and chest even more pronounced. Her breasts vibrated with seductive titillation, begging for more attention and they got it. Most of the fruit had slid down her breasts, uncovering her nipples and eager mouths took their place. She wanted to thrust her nipples into the voracious lips but could barely move, and that seemed to excite her even more.
One of the men went to her head then to her bound hand and suddenly it was filled, her fingers wrapped around a thick cock. Her eyes flew open, and she looked over, seeing the man who had fed her the first bite of food slowly wrapping his hand around hers, then moving it up and down his stiff shaft.
“Are you okay with this?” he asked and she remembered what her agent had told her. Nothing would happen that she didn’t want to.
“Y-yes, Oh God Yes. More I need more!” She breathlessly whispered, her thumb brushing over the spongy soft head of his cock and finding it already wet.
Hands played with her breasts, squeezing and rubbing, picking up handfuls of the now soft fruit and squeezing the mass of juice over her nipples. She heard a wet sound, turning her head from watching the hand job she was giving to see another man, his hands covered with strawberry pulp, rubbing it over his hard cock.
“Lick it off,” he growled, moving closer to her face so that his cock brushed against her lips. She never wanted to suck a man’s cock, but now it was a desperate need. She wanted it in her mouth tasting the fruit and the salty pre-cum.
She couldn’t help herself, so many sensations were overloading her system, so many hands and mouths were caressing and kissing, sucking and touching until she felt like she was a taut string on a bow, ready to let her orgasm fly like an arrow. She turned her head as much as she could and felt the spongy tip pressing against her lips.
She opened her mouth, her tongue coming out, licking at the warm flesh and sweet juice. Lapping from the bottom of his balls to the head of his cock, she got all the sticky fruit from him before opening her mouth and taking him inside.
He grabbed her head, holding her as he thrust inside slowly, going a little deeper each time until she could feel him at the back of her throat. She gagged slightly and he eased off, making quick little jabs inside and imploring her to suck on him.
Suck on him she did, her cheeks hollowing out, her lips stretched around his straining cock.
Her hand moved over the other cock, jerking him off even as another man pushed her legs wider apart, his head snaking between her thighs and his tongue stroking over her clit.
Emma squealed. She couldn’t help it. She felt that one tiny lick all the way down to her toes which were now curled. A low moan started in her throat as he continued, driving her crazy with torturously slow licks, sometimes purposefully missing her clit and making her wiggle in disappointment. Emma wanted to reach down and yank his head further into her, but her other bound hand was taken, and another cock was there.
The man in her mouth moved up his pace, his breath growing heavy, his body jerking even as his cock swelled. Suddenly, she felt the first pulse of salty hot sperm hit her throat and she coughed, gagging even as she swallowed the salty, bitter brew. He filled her mouth again and again until finally, with a sigh of satisfaction, he pulled away.
He patted her head and before she could say anything, another man took his place, another cock pressing against her lips. Her jaw began to ache, and her head started to spin, but she let him use her even as the cocks in her hands started to spray their loads on top of her.
It set off some kind of signal and she glanced around, finding herself surrounded by all these men, cocks in hand, jerking off over her naked juice and chocolate covered body. Even the man in her mouth pulled his cock free. She could hear him using her saliva to smooth his strokes. It was a wet slapping sound and one that she would never forget.
Her eyes were wide, her hands and arms covered in semen from the last two guys who had come on her. She looked around the circle and then, when one of the men shifted, she saw Steve standing in the doorway of the kitchen. His eyes met hers and he grinned, winking at her.
He seemed to be watching over her, making sure no one abused the bound naked centerpiece. Something about his overwatch gave her some security and her anxiety dissipated. Now she knew she would be safe and she began to let the wild sexuality flow through her. The mouths were still licking her erogenous zones, but more cocks were out ready to shower her with their heady brew.
The first spurt of semen landed across her breasts, the hot fluid running down the soft mounds to pool in the valley of her cleavage. The second landed on her thighs, which were still spread, the creamy white stuff trailing over her barely covered mound. She closed her eyes as the next shot landed across her face. Then they were climaxing, all of them, shooting their cream onto her naked body and covering her with their spunk.
She was covered with jism. It was hot and gooey, a little slimy against her body. It mixed with the juice from the fruit and the syrup and the melted chocolate, pooling in her navel, dripping off her thighs, matting in her hair. She felt the last shot land across her mouth to the accompaniment of some hoarse male laughter and then she felt them all move away from the table.
She couldn’t open her eyes and could only lay there in the quickly cooling pool of semen, listening as the men talked, hearing lighters click and smelling the scent of cigar smoke. She lay there bound and unable to move or stand up, she was about to open her mouth, to ask for help, when Steve spoke above her head.
“It’s okay, Emma. You did great.”
“Steve?” She asked. “Can you get me out of here and off this table?”
“Yes ma’am, right away. That’s why I’m here.”
She felt the cart begin to move and heard the swinging doors into the kitchen.
“Amazing,” Chef said. “Simply amazing.” He clapped his hands enthusiastically. While Steve began to release her hands and legs from her bondage. The ropes were slippery and she waited patiently until all her limbs were free. Then she began to move around realizing just how slippery the table was. She looked to Steve for help and he offered her his hand as he asked, “Can you sit up?”
She managed, feeling the gooey stuff dripping off of her. The erotic cravings still made her tremble in need, but all the gooey stuff dripping off of her made her feel messy and unattractive. She desperately wanted someone, like Steve, to release the pent-up passion, but as she felt the goo dripping off of her she knew that no one would want her in her current state.
Something was placed in her hands, a wet cloth, and she used it to wipe away the worst of the many types of goo out of her eyes and off her face. “I can’t go home like this.”
“No one expects you to, Emma,” Steve said. He held a small wire basket and she could see her clothes inside. He held out his hand to her and she took it, wanting to act contrite about the mess everyone made of it. “I’m going to take you to where you can get a shower.” He added.
“Thank you,” She mumbled, standing still for a moment and letting her knees lose their shakiness. She’d been more affected by what had happened out there than she thought. Her body tingled, her pussy felt empty and achy and her nipples throbbed. Oh God, how she wanted someone to fuck her to multiple orgasms, she suddenly felt like such a needy slut. Yet everything felt oddly right, with her entire body tingling and it was an experience she wouldn’t trade for anything.
Emma tried to gather her wits and control as she followed Steve down a tiled hallway, hearing the sound of someone mopping behind her as they cleaned up the mess falling off of her. He held her hand like a couple on a date and she felt secure with his hand holding hers. A doorway appeared on the left side of the hall and Steve opened it, clicking on the light switch.
The bathroom was gorgeous, surprising her. She hadn’t thought to find something spacious and opulent and so well fitted for a woman in a man’s club. The colors were soft, opal and pink with touches of yellow and pale green, the tiles were ceramic, on the floor as well as surrounding the tub and the huge shower. A long counter ran the length of the room with three marble bowls, the opal-colored marble shot through with the same colors as the room.
She was afraid to step inside, but Steve waved her in. “You’ll find everything you need in here, Emma.”
No, she wouldn’t. She knew what she needed, and it wasn’t marble and ceramic tiles. She needed a man deep inside her. She needed the last hour to be consummated in a primal fucking that relieved the wild craving inside her pussy. She looked over at Steve and saw his eyes roaming over her messy but delicious form and she quivered thinking of this manly hunk fulfilling her desperate needs.
“Would you stay?” She whimpered with desperate need in her voice.
“You want me to stay?” he asked, his brows knitting together in a quizzical expression.
“Oh,” she said, as a thought popped into her head. “You have a girlfriend.”
“No,” he said slowly, smiling. “No girlfriend. Are you sure your boyfriend won’t mind if you entertain a strange man?”
“No boyfriend,” she said simply.
Steve’s smile turned into a wide grin, and he pushed her further into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself. He went to the shower, turning on the four heads and checking the temperature of the water. Then he ushered her in with a courtly bow that made her giggle.
She walked into the spray, sighing in relief as the mix on her body rinsed off. Pushing her head back, she picked out a couple of daisies that had stuck in her hair as a result of the matted semen. Then she let the water run through it, enjoying the heat.
“Here,” Steve said, startling her. She hadn’t heard him come into the shower, too intent upon rinsing away the gunk. He lifted the heavy mass of her hair and ran his fingers through it, getting what he could out before lifting a bottle from a small inlaid shelf. Pouring peach scented liquid into his hands, he started to wash her hair.
She has had men wash her hair before but for some reason, every sensuous stroke of his fingers, every gentle massage had her moaning with pleasure. She tipped her head back, allowing him every freedom he wanted to take, her hands coming back to rest upon his thighs, sliding up and finding the hard proof of his desire.
His gasp was like manna from the heavens, and she stroked his steely shaft with trembling fingers. Even her knees were shaking from the force of the sensations she was feeling. The past two hours had been like an aphrodisiac, turning her into a mass of needy cravings. How could she have known that being the center of attention in a room full of twenty lusty men would be such a turn on?
She enjoyed the attention men had always given her and that was why she wanted to be a model, but the last couple of hours had changed her whole perspective. The term exhibitionist popped into her head and she knew that is what she craved. All the ogles, the touches, the attention had turned her on more than she had ever thought. To be honest she wanted more and she wanted a fucking afterwards that left her satisfied.
Steve rinsed her hair, carefully getting out every last bit of soap, then he reached for another bottle and poured golden liquid into his hands. Rubbing them together he began to wash the rest of her, starting with her shoulders.
His thumbs dug into her muscles, stiffened from lying in one position for so long. She moaned again, her head falling forward. “God, I’ll give you a week to stop that,” she whimpered.
“I think we’ll run out of hot water before then,” Steve said, slowly thrusting his cock against her hand. Emma heard the catch in his voice when she squeezed delicately, feeling him throbbing and as anxious as she was for what was coming. She backed off her hand motion, because she needed that steely piece of flesh buried somewhere else inside her.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, sending another shiver through her system until she thought she’d short circuit and then melt into a puddle to be swept down the drain. “I can understand why those men couldn’t leave you alone tonight. I wanted to join them, but this,” he sighed, his warm breath caressing her ear, “is so much better.”
She turned under his hands, facing him. His hands went to her breasts, round and firm, sitting high on her chest. Her nipples were rosy and taut, begging for his fingers, lips or any kind of stimulation. He didn’t disappoint her, twisting the hard tips until she let out a wild cry. “Oh God! I need you inside me,” she whimpered with desire laden in her voice, lifting her leg to wrap around him. “Now! Damn it Now!”
Steve laughed, whether at the demand in her voice or her attempts to climb his well-muscled form, she didn’t know. His lips and teeth latched onto her petulant nipples and she arched her back feeding him more of her breast flesh. Then he lifted her, his palms cupping the curves of her ass and then spun, slamming her gently against the wall of the shower.
His mouth wildly tormented her nipples with his teeth and lips while she desperately arched her back pushing her breast deeper into his voracious mouth. She gasped at the feel of the cold tiles against her back, but they were soon forgotten when he lined his cock up to her yearning pussy and slowly began to push inside.
Her whimpering moan mixed with his groan as she stretched to fit his cock inside her barely used pussy. Feeling him fill her slowly, lowering her down until she could take no more, “Oh God,” She cried, her face buried in his throat. “That’s so good. I need you deep inside me, please make me yours.”
“Yeah,” he growled, nipping at her shoulder and then her ear before using his palms to raise and lower her over him. He fucked her with vigor, finally pressing her against the wall, using his body to hold her up, his hips undulating in a deep, satisfying, wonderful rhythm, rubbing against her clit with each new thrust.
Emma dug her nails into his shoulders, mindless now that he held her there, pinioned against the wall, helpless to his attack. He tortured her, taking her so close, until she was whimpering and begging and then stopping, making her wait no matter how she begged and bitched. She knew she couldn’t take much more as her knees quivered and she threatened to collapse, but fortunately he was holding her firmly against the wall as he skewered her with his cock. His thrusts were just what she needed, deep, hard, fast, and satisfying, while driving her towards her desperately needed climax. Then he stopped again.
“You’re killing me,” She cried, her teeth nipping at his throat. “Fuck me, damn you! Fuck me until I’m a quivering mess!”
Steve’s laugh was like tickling fingers down her spine, making her shiver. She was so close to climaxing, so close to the huge orgasm she had been waiting for all night. Emma kicked her feet, her heels beating into his back, like spurs coaxing her stallion to go faster and harder. But he steadfastly held his maddening rhythm even as she tried to force him to take her faster and harder.
“You want an orgasm?” he asked, lifting his head to look down at her.
“No, what gave you that idea? Yes. Goddamn it. I need it hard and fast. Please drive me wild.”
She wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Even now, she can’t believe the punishment, the torturous plunging and banging into her, the abuse he put her through. His cock slammed into her, smashing into her clit and cervix with each thrust. Emma could hear his breathing above the sound of rushing water in her head, hear the filthy words he said to her, that only made her wilder.
It was a torturous climb, her heart beat so hard she thought it would pound through her chest, her lungs felt as if they’d never be filled again, her thighs ached and twitched, her pussy tingled so wonderfully. She was climbing towards a massive climax, one like she had never experienced. She could feel the coil of tension in her belly growing, twining and twisting, but it kept building to monstrous proportions. She felt as though she may die before she reached her sexual pinnacle.
Then suddenly she was there. Sharp pincers of ecstasy exploded in her, shooting out in waves of heated ecstasy that prickled over her skin like a thousand tiny pins. Her pussy clenched on his cock, the muscles fluttering and grasping around that wonderfully hard piece of flesh. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she knew she screamed, though it was muffled by his shoulder.
He gave three more abusing thrusts and then roared his own satisfaction, pouring his hot seed into her sex, sending her soaring into one more climax until she was nothing more than a boneless, limp mass of womanly flesh in his arms. Just what she needed, but within minutes she wanted more.
Steve held her, even when her legs fell from his waist, he did nothing more than hold her against him, his hands smoothing over her arms and sides as they both tried to recover.
Finally, he lifted his head, his eyes bright, his cheeks flushed. “How did you get here?”
It wasn’t what she’d expected to be the first question out of his mouth. “I came in an Uber.”
“Please, finish your shower in a hurry,” he whispered, dipping his head to find her lips in a slow, soft kiss that spoke more of affection than of sex.
Disappointment must have been plain in her eyes because he smiled. “I thought you’d want to know you were riding home with me. I think we have the rest of the night to glorify your sexuality, I want to see, taste, and feel more of that gorgeous body of yours.”
Her smile was radiant. “Yeah,” In a voice full of emotion, she said slowly. “That would probably be best. I want more of you as well and I need my desires tamed and satiated a lot more.”
To be Continued