First Heavy Date

Copyright (c) 2006 by Roderick Grey (johnson_grey@unrealities.com).  All rights reserved.

 

 

“I want to have a heavy scene with you,” I said.

 

My girlfriend turned and looked at me.

 

“How heavy?” she asked.

 

“Really heavy.  Screaming, helpless orgasms type of heavy.  Serious latex and steel type of heavy.  Deep, pounding fucking type of heavy.  I want to have my way with you.”

 

She considered this. 

 

Then she grinned at me, her eyes twinkling at the thought of dark adventures.  “Okay.  Yes.  You’ve gotten me hooked.  Give it to me!”

 

“I will.  Oh, I will.”

 

I’d been going out with Shella for several months.  We met on the dance floor at a fetish ball.  She was in full Goth effect, in an off-the-shoulder black latex evening dress with black lace gloves, tall black pumps, and a mesh veil.  Her slender curves gleamed in the dance floor lights.  I was in uniform that night, a red latex officer’s outfit with black trim.   We made eye contact on the dance floor, and by the end of the song (an excellent industrial grind) we were circling each other.  I bought her a drink, we started chatting, and soon it was clear we were both interested.  We traded contact info after last call.

 

Shella was a data analyst for a psychographics firm downtown, and had more than a little geek in her, which worked fine for me.  My name is Rick.  I’m one of the army of pervert programmers in San Francisco, land of the nerdy and deviant.  So we had a lot in common from the get-go, and it didn’t take us long to get going.  We had both been dating for some time, but once we met, we started getting very into each other.  2010 was looking like a good year!

 

It turned out we had some old lovers in common – we’d both dated the same woman a few years back (even at the same time, briefly!), and she’d even had a fling with one of my best friends, Steve, not long before.  She mentioned it with a smile, and when I asked Steve about it, he paused, whistled, and said, “You’re going out with Shella?  Dude, you’re a lucky man.  She’s hot with a capital H.”  Hmm, I thought to myself, hmm….

 

Shella’s fetish wardrobe put my own to shame… she’d been going out for a full five years, and she liked to dress up.  She also had adorned herself with nipple, septum, tongue, labia, and clit piercings, and some lovely and delicate black organic tattoo work that stretched across her back and around her shoulders and upper arms, setting off her fair skin and red hair vibrantly.  She was a total looker, and when dolled up for a scene party she was to die for.  I guess she thought I wasn’t too bad myself – I take care of my body and I’ve got my share of tats and piercings too.

 

And kinky!  The girl was kinky.  Turned out we were both switches (bumper sticker: “Switches Like It Both Ways”), and we spent at least a month turning each other on with talk about things we’d done or wanted to do before we finally started playing.  The first time I strapped her to an X-frame and flogged her was a rollicking good time (it turns out she got pretty feisty when beaten – it’s a good thing I have sturdy suspension cuffs!).  And when she strapped me to a bench, blindfolded me, and proceeded to coat most of my upper body with hot wax, it became clear that we really liked pushing each others’ buttons.

 

Not only that, but she was genuinely an interesting person in other ways – we were both ravers, we liked good food, we’d both been pretty introverted.  I liked being with her, and soon we were seeing each other a couple of nights a week.

 

We went out a lot together, of course – we went to fetish clubs, private dungeon parties, and all over.  As we got to know and trust each other more, our play got more daring.  We found we both liked public sex.  We talked about total enclosure, play piercings, breath control, electricity… we talked about threesomes, groups, picking people up as a couple.  I’d never had a lover so compatible.  And we went shopping together, in the process getting a full set of her measurements, with which I did a little – OK, a lot of – discreet shopping of my own.

 

Finally, I had everything ready, and I wanted to use it.  On her.  So I told her I wanted a heavy scene, and, as you know, she went for it.  She’s got a big daredevil streak, and I think she wanted to take things to the next level.  I was happy to oblige.

 

“This Saturday night, I want you to eat dinner – not too much – then do your makeup and get yourself ready to go out.  Shave yourself completely smooth, all over.  Use your most tenacious makeup, because we want your glamor to last.  Do your eyes, your lips, your fingernails, toenails, breasts, pussy, everything.  Then…,” and I smiled at her, “put on just your black latex overcoat and some fuck-me heels, take a cab over to my apartment, and come on up.  Bring whatever you need to spend the night.”

 

She was grinning again.  “Naked under the overcoat?”

 

“Completely.  Well, except for a foot-long chain between your nipple rings.”

 

“Mmmmm.  Okay.  What then?”

 

“I open the door and you give yourself to me.”

 

“And then?”

 

“You’ll find out.  But whatever it is, you say, Yes.”

 

“I’ll do my best,” suddenly seriously.

 

I kissed her.  “I can’t wait!”

 

Saturday night.  I’d eaten an hour or two before, and everything was ready.  I was having a hard time waiting for her – I was pacing, my cock rock hard in my pants.  I’d spent most of the afternoon getting everything ready for her, and even a quick orgasm in the shower had only blunted the edge of my lust.  I was ready for that girl.  It didn’t particularly help that I was wearing a clear latex catsuit, with a blue latex biker’s suit over it, all underneath my slacks and dress shirt.  I was in stealth latex, and it was turning me on.

 

At eight o’clock sharp, my doorbell rang.  Through the peephole I saw her, hair coiffed immaculately, eyes dark, crisply defined, her burgundy lipstick gleaming, the latex overcoat concealing yet clinging.  I opened the door and she strode in, smiling, slightly flushed.  I don’t think I was the only one feeling turned on.

 

I closed and locked the door, then turned to her.  “Undo your overcoat and place it over that chair.”

 

She unbelted and unzipped the coat, stepped out of it, and laid it down.  My cock leaped at the sight of the silver chain which hung between her breasts, and at the smile with which she turned to face me, arching her shoulders slightly to thrust her breasts forward.  “As requested… sir?  Master?”

 

“Master is appropriate,” I told her.  “Now, we have to secure you.”  From a hook on the wall I took a metal collar, two inches wide, padded with leather.  I closed it around her neck, and clicked the lock shut. 

 

A leash was padlocked to the front of the collar.  I grabbed it and pulled her close to me.  “Hands behind your back.”  I picked up a thick pair of handcuffs and latched them closed around her slender wrists.  They were high security cuffs, and the key was locked to the key ring on the steel belt I wore under my outer clothing, over my latex.

 

She tugged at the cuffs and started rubbing herself against me, moaning a bit more now.  I took her leash again, inches from her collar, and pulled her face to mine.  We kissed hungrily, my other hand exploring her body, fondling her breasts, her piercings, caressing her ass and her pussy (dripping).  I broke the kiss, just long enough to see that her makeup was only very slightly smeared – makeup technology had advanced by leaps and bounds lately.  As ever, technology serves the cause of creative sexuality.

 

“Come with me,” I told her, tugging her chain to lead her close behind.  I led her down the short hallway to the living room.  The drapes were all drawn, the lights turned low, and she gasped as she saw the array of gleaming paraphernalia laid out on the couch and central table.  Only the loveseat was free, the end table next to it.  All the furniture was black leather.  A full-length mirror stood near the couch.

 

“All that is for me?” she said, quite calmly, only the flexing of her hands in the (quite immovable) cuffs giving any token of nervousness.

 

“Oh yes, indeed.  Every bit of it.  It’s going to be a late night!  And I intend to make sure we both have plenty of energy.”  She looked at me quizzically, then her eyes widened as she noticed the two small white pills on the end table, next to the water pipe. 

 

Like I said, we were partiers, and we had gotten high in various ways on quite a few occasions already.  So she walked around in front of me, placed her cuffed and crimson-fingernailed hands at my crotch, and started stroking my bulging pants as she whispered, “That seems like a very good idea.”

 

After letting her play for a while, I gave her one of the tablets, holding the cup of water to her lips to help wash it down.  I took the other tablet myself.  Then we sat on the loveseat and got quite high, the excellent pot making us just that much more besotted with one another.

 

“It’s time for you to dress,” I told her after extricating myself from an amazing kiss we’d melted into.  “You’ll need your hands free.”  I unlocked the cuffs and removed them.  I did the same, regretfully, with her nipple chain.

 

She turned and hugged me.  “Where do I start?” she asked.

 

“Start at the left side of the couch, and work your way around from there,” I told her.  “And have a sip of this first.”  I gave her the water bottle, and she drank a few gulps, then stood and walked to the couch.  I let the leash run out as she went; it was just long enough.  There was a black sheet – neoprene – laying over the couch and extending to the floor, and she stood on it.

 

She picked up a pair of black lace gloves.  “Beautiful!” she said, and they were.  They twined up her arms as she put them on, the lace stretching from her upper arms (where it blended with her shoulder tattoos) down almost to her fingertips; the gloves were fingerless.  She slid similar lace stockings up her legs, a lace garter belt to hold them up, and a sheer, high-necked, lace teddy… with cutouts for her breasts and no crotch.  “This outfit is already really wicked.  And… ah.”  Next was a large black bottle, which she picked up.  “Mmm, it’s warm!” she said, removing the cap and lifting it up, dripping it liberally over herself.  It was silicone lube, also known as God’s gift to latex lovers, and she smoothed it over herself, sighing at the slippery sensations.

 

I shucked my outer clothes quickly and came up behind her, rubbing my latex codpiece into her now-slippery ass.  “Oh, my!” she said, turning and rubbing her still-chained breasts across my slippery chest.  We kissed again, groping each other. 

 

I sat her down on the couch, and handed her the next item, a bundle of gleaming amber latex.  “Ohhh, my,” she sighed, as she unfolded it.  She draped it over herself, enjoying the caress of the latex, then she straightened it out and started sliding into it.  It was a clear latex catsuit, with fingerless gloves and, again, cutouts for the breasts and crotch… actually, the whole ass was exposed as well, along with the pussy in front. 

 

While she put that on, I put on a latex waist cincher, and a metal belt over it, with keyrings and other toply items depending from it… along with a short wooden paddle and a long, Lexan cane.

 

When she was done sliding into the catsuit, she was slightly woozy with the compression, and she gleamed, her lace underwear showing enticingly through the semi-transparent material.

 

“God, this thing feels good.  And… oh… so naughty.”  She melted onto the couch, her hands straying to her crotch.

 

“Oh, no, my dear, we can’t have that!”  I pulled her to her feet again by the collar.

 

“I’m sorry, Master, I just couldn’t help myself,” she said sincerely, and I believed her.

 

“We’re not done yet.  Next…” I picked up a baby-doll pink latex dress, short sleeved, high necked, with a very tight skirt extending down to just below the knee.  It was edged with black latex ruffles.  And, of course, it had cutouts for the breasts and ass, and even a circular cutout in front framing the pussy.  The whole dress was almost a size too small.  By the time Shella had wriggled into this, she was panting outright, and I was amazed that I was somehow managing to avoid fucking her repeatedly right then and there.

 

“God, you’re kinky,” she told me, looking at herself in the mirror, taking her collar chain in one latex- and lace-gloved hand, tugging on her own collar.  Then she looked at me, walked to me, kissed me deeply.  She grabbed my ass, and I grabbed hers, feeling her juices mingled with the silicone.  We ground into each other.

 

With an effort, I pulled back, picking up the next item.  It was a pink and black latex corset, which I buckled around Shella’s waist, lacing it snugly from top to bottom.  It closed with only about an inch and a half remaining, and now Shella was an hourglass figure from my deepest wet dreams.  “Corsets really complete the outfit,” I thought out loud, finishing tying off the laces.

 

“Yes, they – uh! – do,” she said breathlessly. 

 

Two high-heeled boots were next, black rubber ones that extended to her calves, with four-inch heels and one-inch platforms.  Suddenly her face was quite a bit closer to mine, and her balance quite a bit less steady, when I pulled her to her feet and kissed her cheeks, her ears, biting her neck just above the collar.

 

I released her, still holding the leash, and she wobbled slightly.  Then she noticed the items I had just picked up off the couch.  She gasped, and sat down.  I walked up to her and gently pulled her collar to my crotch, and she opened her mouth and sucked on the bulge in my pants, eyes closed, in a reverie.

 

I sat next to her, poured a bit more lube onto my hands, and smoothed the lube over her head.  She groaned at the sensation, her hands moving to her breasts, fondling herself, as I pulled the open-faced black latex hood over her head.  Her breath was coming in excited gasps.  I unlocked the collar from her neck.

 

I wrapped the black latex neck corset around her neck – well, really, around her upper body from jaw to shoulder.  I rested the device on her shoulders and laced it tightly closed.  Its rigid steel boning held her head high and tilted it slightly back, and kept her from turning her head at all.  She had never worn one before, as far as I knew, and her eyes almost bulged as I finished snugging it.  She sank back into the couch, starting to masturbate in earnest now.  I leaned over her and kissed her, our tongues devouring each other.

 

‘Almost there now, lover,” I told her, intently watching her. 

 

She looked back at me and said, “Bring it on, Master.”

 

I picked up a large piece of metal.  She gulped, and stood.  I turned her to face away from me, and brought the metal restraint up behind her.

 

At the top was a steel collar, two inches wide.  This collar was welded to a steel strip, two inches wide, that descended until it joined a steel belt, also two inches wide.  I opened the belt fully, then closed it around her waist, over the corset.  It snugged down perfectly; it’d been measured to fit.  The steel strap laid against her spine; it was curved to fit her back perfectly when she stood erect.  I then opened the collar all the way, placed it around her neck, and closed it with perfect snugness over the neck corset.  The collar and waist belt both locked securely.

 

I picked up two large and heavy metal cuffs, and bolted each one, one just above the other, to the steel strip just above the small of her back.  Then I took her arms and crossed them behind her, elbows bent, each hand holding the opposite elbow, forearms parallel in the small of her back.  I placed one wrist in each cuff, closed the cuffs, and used a hex wrench to tighten the screw locks.  The cuffs were perhaps four inches wide, snugly locking her arms crossed behind her back, leaving her ass completely exposed.  Her gloved hands grasped at thin air, and I took hold of her arm to help her balance.

 

From the couch I took a short bar, with a handgrip on one end and a hole on the other.  I locked the hole end of the bar to the front of Shella’s collar.  Now I had a short, rigid leash. 

 

“Oh… God.  This is really fucking intense,” she said, starting to struggle, her arms and shoulders flexing under the latex as she pulled against the rigid metal imprisoning her.  I smiled, reached down, and started stroking her pussy through the hole in the front of her baby-pink dress.  She cried out and looked at me pleadingly, almost whimpering, as I stroked her pussy.  I suddenly realized that I was flying, seriously blissed on the E we had taken.  Modern E gave a nice clean high, lasting maybe six hours if you were lucky, and four hours no worries.

 

“Are you feeling good, you gorgeous, gorgeous slave of mine?”  I slipped a finger inside her, then two, stroking her G-spot from the inside.

 

“Yes, Master.  Yes.  Fuck, yes!” she cried, grinding down on my fingers..  I started thrusting, and she had what looked like a small orgasm, right there, standing up.  I took hold of her neck bar and held her still while I continued finger-fucking her, her cries music to my ears.

I picked up a long, thin leather strap, and I wrapped it around the front of Shella’s shoulder, then under the armpit and through a loop on the steel strap, then over the top of the other shoulder, and then back around.  Tightening it pulled Shella’s shoulders back, causing her to stick out her breasts just that much more.  I took advantage by locking Shella’s nipple chain back on. 

 

Then I knelt, and unzipped the back of Shella’s pink hobble skirt.  I nudged her feet apart.  “What are you doing?” she asked me, unable to turn and look.

 

“I’m going to finish putting your chastity belt on, of course!  Although actually it’s more like an UNCHASTITY belt….”  I picked up a thin rubber dildo and smeared it with lube, then I pulled on a rubber glove, lubed it, and started gently fingering Shella’s anus.  She groaned, rotating her ass slowly, as I teased her.  She pushed out, I slid in, and she sighed.  Then I pulled out and slid the dildo all the way home. 

 

“Aah, that’s big!” she said.

 

“Not too big?”

 

“Noooooo.  Ohhh.  How long have you been planning this?”

 

“For months, lover.  For months.”

 

“You really know how to get to a girl.”

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I told her, while lining up the rest of her crotch harness.  The front piece was basically a metal loop formed into a pussy hook, that was bent at the end into a curve perfect for cupping the G-spot.  I slid this through the hole in the front of her dress, and then inside her, the end of the hook resting snugly against her G-spot; the two sides of the loop, two gleaming steel curves, spread her upper pussy lips open and framed her clit, and its hood piercing, very temptingly.  I locked the end of the hook to its attachment on the front of her waist belt.

 

Then I knelt before her, grabbed her ass, pulled her crotch into my face, and licked her clit through the front of her dress.  She cried out and staggered; I doubled my grip and licked harder, relishing her moans. 

 

“I can’t resist your clit so exposed like that,” I told her, standing back up.  She opened her eyes and looked at me hazily.

 

“I love it, sir.  I can’t believe how helpless I feel.  More, please!”

 

I picked up the rear piece to her crotch harness, another curved piece of metal; this one had a fitting to connect to her dildo, from where the metal piece traveled up to the rear of the waist belt.  I locked it in place.  I also fastened a small metal box to the front crotch piece, over her clit; this box had a rubber base that pressed firmly against her clit.  Then I zipped her pink latex skirt back down, once again hobbling her to below her knees.

 

“Mmmhh, now you’ve got my ass plugged!” she said, experimentally rotating her ass to feel the restriction of the dildo held inside her.

 

“That’s not all that I’ve got now,” I told her.  “Sit.”  I took her neck bar and lowered her to the couch, where she relaxed – it was actually quite comfortable for her to lie back on her arms, since the wide cuffs protected them from being compressed.  She laid back, rocking her hips gently, pleasuring herself as much as she could.  I picked up two heavy three-inch steel cuffs, joined by an 18-inch chain, and locked one around each ankle.

 

Her eyes widened when I picked up a small remote from the table, and widened much further when I touched a few buttons and suddenly her butt plug started vibrating – as did the hook in her pussy over her G-spot, and the metal box (a small and powerful vibrator) over her clit!  “Ooohhhhhh, oh, oh my God!” she groaned, really struggling in earnest now, her gleaming body writhing as her whole lower body burst into buzzing life.  Then I touched the red button on the remote, and she spasmed as an electrical pulse shot from her G-spot to her ass.  “Aaahhh!  Oh Master, oh – aaahh!!!” as I hit the button again.

 

I sat next to her on the couch, threw my leg over her, and proceeded to make out with her, kissing her, fondling her helpless, chained and pierced breasts, savoring her struggles, looking into her wide eyes and making her wait for the occasional shocks.  My cock was leaking profusely, I was about to shoot off in my pants, and she was altogether too close to coming.  So, after all too brief a time, I pulled myself away and shut down everything. 

 

She was left panting, eyes aflame, completely charged up.  She struggled to a sitting position.  “It’s a good fucking thing you’ve got me locked in solid steel, or I’d be jumping you right now and making you fuck my brains out, Master,” she told me a bit unevenly.

 

“And we couldn’t have that, beautiful, because you’re the one due to get her brains fucked out tonight.  But first we have to go!”

 

“…Go?  What do you mean, go?” she asked, somewhat unbelievingly.

 

“There’s a limo waiting downstairs to take us to the Black Lotus.”

 

“You’re kidding.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

She bit her lip as she realized I wasn’t.  Then her eyes sparkled and she sat at the edge of the couch, poised, and smiled at me.  My cock leaped, realizing that she was ready and willing.  God, she turned me on.

 

The Black Lotus is the best play club in the city, bar none.  The crowd is hot and very fetishy, the energy is good, and they aggressively boot lookie-loos.  And since desktop genealyzers became popular, they have started screening absolutely everyone for STD’s, with one floor reserved for play among people who test clear.  Shella and I both tested clear.  We’d played on the clear floor before, a few times, and had a great time.  But we’d never been anywhere near this hot to trot before even getting there!

 

“But first, a nightcap, or a pre-nightcap.”  I reached for the bong, and I shared several hits with her, breathing it into her lungs as we kissed passionately.  If possible, this made me throb even more intensely with lust for her, and she certainly seemed to relish the wave of relaxed sensation too.

 

“OK, I just have to call the limo driver.  I’ll be right back,” I said, kissing her.  Then I went down the hall and called the driver to tell him we’d be right down.  And I made another call, too, but she didn’t hear it.

 

“Well, let’s get you ready for the street,” I said when I returned to the room.  I picked up a large black latex cloak, with a large hood, and put it over her shoulders.  It closed completely in front, and had a waist belt, which I buckled snugly.  The cloak fell all the way to just above her toes, even concealing the ankle shackles – though not, completely, the noise they made.  The hood shadowed her face and zipped up quite far, concealing her neck restraint. 

 

“This makes me look just about street-legal,” she said, examining herself in a corner mirror.

 

“That’s the idea – even though we’ll only be on the sidewalk a few steps, we do want to get there without any trouble.  Now my toybag…”  I slung it over my shoulder.  Then I put my arm around her waist, holding her close (and almost carrying her along), and we left the room together.

 

We didn’t have far to walk down the hallway to the elevator, and we had the elevator to ourselves.  In the elevator I took her head in my hands and kissed her, pushing her against the back wall of the elevator, savoring her vulnerability and her lust.  Before we reached the ground floor I moved away and pulled her hood back down.  She purred.

 

We walked through the lobby, passing one other tenant on the way, our outfits drawing only a passing glance – stranger ones weren’t uncommon on Saturday nights in this city.  The limo waited out front, and the driver opened the door for Shella.  Of course, she needed my assistance getting in, which I generously provided.  I slid in next to her, gave the driver the address, and closed the divider.

 

Then, I unbuckled her coat and strapped on her shoulder belt (very snugly).  Her breasts were exposed, but the driver couldn’t see, and the limo’s windows were tinted dark.  The driver pulled away as I buckled my own seatbelt.

 

“You bastard!” she said, smiling, struggling a bit within her still-immovable bondage.  She kicked her ankles, and the chain between them drew taut.  I put my foot on it and pinned her legs down, then kissed her, playing with her breasts, caressing her face.  She moaned, closed her eyes, and began rhythmically rocking up and down in her seat, no doubt moving the dildo slightly into and out of her ass.

 

I opened my toybag and pulled something out.  It looked like a sports mouthguard, except that this one actually held the jaws apart.  “OK, lover, it’s time to go to the next level.  From here on, I’m going to gag you!”  I couldn’t help the leap in my voice as I said it, the thought was so thrilling.

 

“Oh, God, Master… now?”

 

“Yes, slave, now.”  I punctuated my statement with a few presses of the remote button.  She stiffened and cried out softly, cries which I muffled with my lips.

 

“You’ve gone this far already.  Believe me, there’s more, and at the end of it, you’ll get what you need.  Oh, will you ever.”

 

She sighed, looked at me, and breathily said, “As you want me, sir.”

 

I brought the mouthguard to her mouth, and slipped it inside.  It was made of smooth, clear, rigid plastic, molded perhaps a quarter inch thick.  In the trays for her teeth there was a softer rubber, one that her teeth sank into slightly.  Her jaws were held open, her teeth still visible through the clear plastic trays.  Her mouth was now open and available, her pierced tongue framed by her shielded teeth and her still-painted lips.

 

There was a strap fixed in each corner of the mouthguard, and I buckled the ends behind her head, holding the guard snugly in place.  Then I kissed her again, tasting every corner of her mouth.  “Aaahhh…  aahg…  ooh eyy ogh…” her eyes went dreamy, savoring my sensual, leisurely kisses.

 

I reached into the bag again, and pulled out a few small bells, connected to light chains.  I attached them to her nipple piercings.

 

Then I proceeded to play with the remote control, her nipples, and her mouth – kissing, biting, vibrating, gently shocking – while she wriggled, the bells jingling, making gagged pleas and guttural cries of bliss.

 

Finally we arrived.  I turned off the remote.  I rebuckled the cloak around her, after removing our seatbelts.  Then I helped her out of the car and the few extra feet into the entrance door of the Black Lotus.

 

Inside, dim lighting, black leather, chrome, and an entry desk.  I showed our membership cards, and we were ushered into the play area.  On the way, we stopped at the coat check.  There was ceiling lighting along one wall, and I positioned Shella directly under one of the lights.

 

I relished sliding the cloak off of Shella’s incredibly lubricious, tantalizing, erotic body.  She stood revealed, head held high by her own pride as well as the steel body restraint, mouth open wide.  Her arms and hands writhed slowly, feeling the tight grasp of the metal.  She was a study in contrasts, gleaming metal over tantalizing pink over glistening clear over black lace, her breasts and ass incredibly well-presented and tempting. 

 

I bent to the front of her dress, and removed the little box vibrator.  Then I clipped one last bell to her clit hood piercing!  This bell hung forwards from the cutout on the front of her dress.  I reattached the little box, shouldered my toybag, and took her neck bar firmly in hand, looking deep into her eyes.

 

“OK, lover.  Time for the real playtime to begin!”

 

She groaned, and groaned again when I fondled her breasts and turned her vibrators (forward and rear) gently back on.  I pulled her down the hall after me.  The other partygoers – men, women, many ages, dressed to the nines – flowed around us, or stood and watched us pass.

 

She got a lot of very appreciative looks.  I heard “gorgeous,” “God that’s hot,” “that’s one lucky top.”  Shella heard, too, and walked just that much more proudly, her ass still wiggling with each step.  We entered the main playroom, a vaulted room twenty feet tall by fifty square, with partitions creating many playspaces, and an elevated balcony around the room for audience.

 

We got to the play station I’d reserved.  It took up one corner of the room, and had, among other things, bondage points on both ceiling and floor, an adjustable bondage post, and a fucking bench.

 

I brought Shella into the middle of the play space, directly under a pulley that stood above the post.  I ran a chain through this pulley, safety-hooked it to a loop on the back of Shella’s collar, and pulled on the other end, causing her to stand erect right under the pulley.  I locked the end chain to a side hook.  Her entire metal body restraint was chained to the ceiling.

 

I lowered the post until it was just shorter than her ass.  I pulled her legs back against it, and buckled thick leather straps around her legs, at thighs, knees, and ankles.  Now she couldn’t possibly fall down if she tried.  In fact, she could barely move.  Not that she didn’t try – she writhed, twisting on the end of the ceiling chain, shuddering slightly, her nipple bells jingling as she begged me… “Aahhh!  Glahh… gleeee… ehhh!”.

 

I stood before her and took her head in both hands, giving her a kiss so deep and long that I felt my cock pulse and my juices flow, once, twice.  She trembled, and groaned.  Then I buckled the rubber blindfold over her eyes, and she cried out, a long wail of mixed delight and hunger… a wail that was muffled when I slid the dildo gag into her mouth, buckling it around her head.  She shrieked into the gag, redoubling her struggling, but her cries were muffled.  I kissed her over the gag, fondling her breasts, her ass.  God, I couldn’t believe her. 

 

I took out some toys from my toy bag, beginning with a spiky pinwheel and a smooth rubber glove.  And I started playing with her.  I teased and tormented her exposed breasts and ass.  I turned the vibrators up slowly, then caned her exposed ass while occasionally shocking her.  And always, always, I was stroking her, squeezing her, spanking, reddening her.  She made a joyous symphony of helpless lust.  Her utter captivity unleashed me, and I devoured her. 

 

And not only me.  Suddenly she realized that two hands were stroking her breasts… and two more massaging her ass!  Then she was being spanked on breasts and ass together!  She stiffened suddenly, and just as suddenly found herself embraced by two – men – myself, and someone else!  “Ghaaah?  Hoooo iiiiih???”  She struggled to speak into the gag.

 

I unbuckled her blindfold, and she saw me… and behind me, my old friend and her ex-lover, Steve, dressed like me in skintight latex!  Her eyes widened about as far as humanly possible… and she downright squealed with delight into her gag, her whole face obviously grinning!

 

Well, that was a relief.  I knew Steve still had the hots for her, and she for him, though she hadn’t said so in as many words.  And God knew she and I had had some fun times fantasizing about playing with someone else.  But I was definitely taking it over the top.  Thank God my gamble looked like it was paying off!

 

I unbuckled the dildo gag, and asked her, “Are you ready for us both?”

 

“UUUUUH HUUUUUUH!!!!!” she yelled, making Steve and I very, very fucking happy indeed.

 

“Shella, you’re unbelievable,” Steve told her, and she said “Uuuck eeeah!”  He kissed her, then I kissed him, then we all kissed – our tongues dueling with her still-belled tongue.

 

We went to town with that girl.  We took our cocks out, and rubbed them all over her.  We took out more silicone lube and spread it over us, making us all slippery.  We used finger talons, violet wands, and rubber gloves on her.  And always we kissed her and sucked her and bit her.

 

Finally I couldn’t fucking stand it any longer.  “I’ve got to fuck this incredible woman before I explode!” I told Steve, who was licking her nipples one after another while ringing her bells tautly.

 

“Me too, man,” Steve said.  “Over that bench?”

”Exactly.”  I unhooked her from the ceiling as Steve unbelted her legs, then we lifted her bodily (making her groan) and carried her over to the bench.  We laid her down on it on her front, her head positioned at crotch level at one end, her ass positioned at the other end.  We positioned her legs on the footrest at the end of the bench, then strapped her down at neck, waist, thighs, knees, and ankles.  Now she was perfectly positioned for face fucking and for doggie-style fucking.  And God, did she ever know it – she was wailing, begging us.  We slid into her and started.

 

I took her from behind first.  My swollen cock slid into her still-stretched pussy, making her wail.  Steve’s cock muffled her cry, and he began sliding in and out of her mouth, teasing her with just his cock head.  She could do nothing but let him, of course – she couldn’t move in the slightest, or bite down, or close her mouth.  Steve reached down and started stroking her breasts and ringing her bells, while I slid deeper and deeper into her.

 

Then I started fucking her, slow and inexorable, and Steve’s eyes almost rolled back, because she started sucking him so helplessly and passionately that he had to regularly pull out to maintain control.  I turned on her vibrators, almost full blast, and she shuddered into a sudden orgasm so quickly I almost exploded with her – I had to hold rigidly still inside her while she quaked, her pussy trying to milk my cock, her wails regularly muted by Steve.

 

We settled into a rhythm, a deep fucking rhythm, all the way in then all the way back out, Steve deep-throating her, me pressing my cock deep inside her, burying myself in her.  It was too good – going to come – and Steve and I made eye contact.  “God damn, this is fantastic,” Steve said gutturally, and Shella groaned, “Uhhhh huuuhhhhh.”

 

“I want to feel her mouth too.”  And I did.  God, did I ever.

 

“Let’s switch,” Steve said, and just like that we both pulled out.  She cried and, it sounded like, swore.  She wasn’t done!  We changed positions, and I rubbed my cock over her lips and tongue, then slid inside.  Oh, incredible, her tongue on my cockhead, her lips sucking and stroking my shaft!  I slid my cock into her throat and held it there while Steve came all the way into her in one long, hard thrust, that made her gargle and almost convulse.  We started right in fucking her hard and fast again, and I turned up her vibrators just that much more.  She began coming continuously, in waves, Steve slapping her ass with spiked gloves, me massaging her breasts with lube, both of us fucking her, fucking her.

 

Again we peaked, and again Steve and I traded glances.  Somehow it was right that we should change again.  After all, Shella and I were the couple and Steve was the visitor.  And I needed to come inside her, deep in her pussy.

 

So we switched, one last time, Shella now making a continual moaning roar, once again turned into gasping, gurgling cries as Steve started sliding in and out of her throat with that inexorable rhythm of pre-orgasm.  I matched his rhythm, both of us climbing, her perfectly pinned between us, pinned by us, all three united.  Her whole body shook, fighting the leather and metal, an even huger orgasm sending waves through her body… waves that grew and grew, and I grabbed her corseted hips and fucked her like a jackhammer, roaring, my steel-hard cock pounding her – and COMING!!!  EXPLODING!!!  Buried deep inside her, my whole cock pulsing, and she writhed, silenced by Steve’s cock, also coming deep in her throat.  I punched the remote button, hard, and she jerked and shuddered, still utterly quiet.  We were both still coming, feeling her struggle between us…..

 

Steve pulled out, and she took a great gasp of air.  Then she started laughing, belly laughing.  Steve and I grinned at each other.  I pulled out, slowly, and turned everything down.  Then we both knelt by her face, kissing her, kissing each other. 

 

I released her gag.  “I’m going to unstrap you now, lover,” I told her.  She smiled dreamily at me, and at Steve.

 

We worked together to free her.  Steve started at her boots.  “That was one of the most amazing experiences I’ve ever had,”he told us, working his way down her legs.

 

“Yeah... me too,” Shella said slowly, her first words since I’d gagged her.  I was unlocking the collar of her body restraint, and I put it down and hugged her.  She hugged me back, surprisingly strongly given how hard she’d just come! 

 

“You’re my dream-come-true girl, you know that?” I told her, unlacing her neck corset.

 

“I sure know it now!” she said, smiling.

 

I looked down into her face, still framed by the latex mask.  “So... this heavy scene stuff... what do you think?”

 

“How can I think?  You both fucked my brains right completely out.  Just like you said you would.  God, it was... it was fantastic.  This heavy scene stuff?  Please, sir, may I have another?”

 

“Not a single doubt in the world.”

 

That was the last (only, actually) threesome Shella and I did – Steve met a cute (and kinky) girl soon after, and we all haven’t gotten together... yet. 

 

Yeah, the last threesome.

 

But definitely not the last heavy scene!