Mary's pussy was full of cum. And it was only a Sunday morning! And she was at home, alone.
To be clear, it was full of male ejaculate: fresh warm semen and sperm. But she did not know where it came from. Did not know who it came from. Not exactly.
She knew it must have happened during the party she attended so very late the night before. But there was a period during that party when she was asleep. Whoever it was (or whoever they were, if a group) must have stuck their cocks into her cunt and fucked her and inseminated her while she was passed out. There must have been an incredible amount of cum, originally, if so much was still there the next morning like this.
Strangers fucking her! And without her awareness, involvement or even prior consent. She had learned to accept this kind of thing, however. It had become part of her new life with Mr. X. The lifestyle had its rewards -- despite its risks, or its inconveniences, at times. Inconveniences like this, for example.
She pushed a forefinger up inside her, down there, to confirm it again.
"Yep, still there!"
A pussy full of male cum and whose origin was a mystery. The idea at least, just then, actually made her laugh out loud. A little, anyway.
And then a bell rung. She was being summoned by Mr. X. For service.
The ringing of the bell had been associated with so much filthy perversion afterward, and eventual orgasms, that it was starting to have a kind of Pavlovian effect on her. If her pussy was not already wet it would surely become so now. Mr. X was ultimately a Good Man at heart, but somewhere inside that incredible Big Brain of his also lurked a sneaky and Evil Man. Were they ever at war within him?
She set this question aside for now and quickly double-checked her appearance, and freshened up as much as she could, fast, and then left the room. Her presence in His office was expected ASAP. She had learned to never be late for a summons because he tended to have her clit whipped. And she did not like that. Well, not always.
She laughed a little and headed out.
.................
Mr. X had several guests over one afternoon, for a party, and they were all gathered then outside on the back lawn of his estate, Remelle, just outside Paris. It was meant to be a small and casual event and so only twenty or so people attended.
Mary was there too, of course, at the request of the man who she served now, 24x7, as both romantic consort, sexual play toy and erotic, living doll -- a kind of Bondage Barbie, but for adults only. In other words a woman with which he could do anything he wanted. Within certain limits proscribed by basic sanity and a mutual desire for long term sustainability. She was no slave -- not technically -- because she was compensated. Her pussy had a Price as all quality pussy ultimately has, or rather should have, and she herself intended to monetize it for all she could. Currently she was doing so via Mr. X. It was not a hard choice, to be honest, and no great sacrifice on her part. Why? Well, let's see: first, he excited her to no end, was endlessly creative, and was effortlessly Dominant in all the ways she craved from menfolk, and yes it helped that he was both handsome, muscular and rich. Her "momma didn't raise no fool" as the old saying goes.
And speaking of Mary and the arrangement she had with Mr. X, one could see how it manifested then in the exact way Mary was present in person at his party that day.
First of all, she was nude. Utterly and completely nude. Not even a piece of jewelry.
Also, she spent much of it down on the ground, on the bare grass or soil, and on all fours. By default, and unless directed otherwise, she kept herself head down, face pressed into the green grass, with her bare ass sticking up and out, back and hips bowed too into a posture of extreme lordosis -- possibly the most feminine pose any female human-mammal can ever put herself in.
Mr. X stood near Mary, as if to keep a protective eye on his young slut/aide. He did so while chatting idly with a few other people in a small cluster, and they each stole admiring glances at Mary's bared black ass and hairless cunny when they could get away with it, without losing the flow of conversation anyway.
Mary's erotic predicament seemed to catch the eye of another of Mr. X's guests. She was an older white woman with blonde hair -- done up in a mini-beehive style -- named Claire, with a strange accent. Mary would learn later that Claire was from Belgium and in theory, at least, was a landed Baroness. She came from money, in other words. From old money. Not unlike Mr. X himself.
Claire walked across the lawn towards Mr. X and then, without even bothering to stop and say hello to him, quickly knelt down, just behind Mary, ostensibly to be able to take a closer look at the younger woman's pussy, now so grossly exposed and vulnerable.
"May I?" she asked Mr. X, though without turning to look at him -- staying almost eerily focused on Mary's private parts the entire time, as if in a trance.
