Happy Birthday Amelia!

The twins were so identical, that Amelia could not tell which was Janice and which was Joanne. She noticed a freckle near the left nipple of one, but never having been intimate with the girls, she did not know whose identifying mark that might be. Their partners moved in front of the girls like the other men had done when it was their turn. The difference this time was that apparently, two girls were going to perform at once.

The girl holding the cane was directed to stand. As she was standing, her "handler" moved in close and as he whispered something in her ear, he reached around behind her and traced a finger from her ass to her spine and all the way up to her hairline as he spoke. Whatever he said, shocked the girl and clearly disturbed her. She turned her head slightly to look at his face--needing to be sure that she'd understood what was expected of her in this public setting--and had her fear confirmed. He whispered something else to her ("Don't disappoint me...") but nobody else in the room could hear it.

Amelia could not see movement, in fact, both couples were still preparing for the physical part of their performance. She was only slightly cognizant of the room. She knew where she was and some of the attendees, and certainly was keenly aware of the predicament she was in bondage-wise, but the sub in her was flying on gossamer wings, floating high above the crowd and blissfully aware that it was going to get even better if that was possible.

Janice and Joanne were moved closer to each other. One twin was helped to her feet and moved into a bent over position, hands on her knees. The one with the cane was placed next to her sister. Her handler said in a low tone, "Begin," and she looked at him for reassurance. His look brooked no defiance so she turned back to her task.

She raised the cane tentatively and swung it at the back of her sister's legs. It struck the soft flesh with a crack. She pulled the implement back and struck again, and again many in the room thought that it was too soft, but it did make a satisfying noise. She looked at him, wondering in the absence of instruction, if she was to continue. He said nothing, so she continued. Again and again, she brought the cane to her sister's thighs and there was a buildup that everyone in the room could feel; she was increasing her tempo and her force, almost imperceptibly. All of those watching though, knew that she was warming to the task, beginning to enjoy it, and truly beginning to allow her inner sadist to escape...even though her subject was her own mirror.

When the beating had commenced to being loud, quick, and sharp blows, the group could see the sister's red stripes on her legs and could see her eyes so full of tears that they actually dripped onto the floor in front of her. The arm went back again and again, the cane fell over and over, and the bamboo made incredible noises as it found tender flesh in need of discipline.

(One woman in the crowd, so turned on by the spectacle moved in close behind her date. The beautiful Korean woman was not tall enough to see over his shoulder from behind him so she steadied herself with one hand around his middle while the other reached around and rubbed the front of his trousers. She played softly with his cock through his trousers and moved her hand to the zipper of his tuxedo pants. Dave saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to look at them. His eyes said all that was needed: "Sarah, this is not about you. You'll get to play later. Stop now."

Admonished, the woman with the long black hair, over active libido, and wandering hand removed her hand from its position and smiled shyly as if to say, "I'm sorry.")

The arm that was caning the sister came back and at its apex, was caught by his hand. She was stunned out of her reverie, and turned to look with surprise at him. She had truly become lost in what she had been told to do. He whispered to her as he took the cane and moved out of her way.

She began to smile sheepishly for she was embarrassed to have found that she would enjoy that and then, she remembered her sister. Emotion rushed into her heart and she too started crying. She moved quickly to where her sister stood bent over and waiting for more, instruction, or relief. The sister's handler moved out of the way and the two nude women hugged and cried together. Their love for each other was something that everyone in the room could see; it was impossible to hide the bond that they shared from lives spent together.

Their men moved to them and without separating them, guided the still embracing women to a new spot, halfway between where each had previously knelt. They clung to each other and no one in the room thought that they could be separated, no matter what this ceremony called for. Each man watched the two as they lowered themselves to the floor, still clinging to each other and both crying their eyes out and smiling at each other. Where one nude sister started and the other ended was difficult to tell, so when one man said, "Thank you, Joanne," and the other said, "Thank you, Janice," Amelia was none the wiser about who was who.

Again Mary stepped towards a recently finished couple and again, she returned with an instrument to use on Amelia. Moving behind the trapped woman, she stopped and let the anticipation build. The crowd moved forward, whether it was real or imagined, Amelia could feel every eye in the room on Mary and her. The weights hanging from her breasts were dragging at her and the pressure in them was almost unbearable from the leather bindings. The ball gag was keeping her mouth open and gasping through the breathing holes. Her ass was on fire. Her hair was tight and close to making her neck sore from the position she was in. Her legs were becoming tired and beginning to shake. And the invasive gold plated piece of metal up her ass was becoming a part of her...it had turned into a symbol of his ownership of her. She had come to embrace the inert tool and love how it felt so deep in her insides. She was flying, her body was of no consequence. She was aware of the pain, the restrictions, the changes to her body but she was in heaven. She'd never felt so free, so light, and so...loved.

And when the cane came down, she barely felt it. The crowd audibly winced. Again and again and again she was lashed with the cruel piece of bamboo. Again and again and again she was aware of the sting on her thighs but didn't feel a thing. She was not even in her body. She was a piece of everyone in the room, molecules shared with everyone, given freely for them to use as they would. She was the glow in the eyes of the women, she was the desire in the eyes of the men, she was the cravings in their hearts to be a part of it, to touch her, to take her, to want her, to have her. She was the object of his passions and she felt full, complete, and exalted.

Amelia had never felt this, couldn't have imagined it. Her sense of self was gone, she was not a body in a room...she was pleasure. Pure and unadulterated emotion.

She hadn't even noticed that the caning had stopped. Nobody in the room breathed. Amelia had not noticed that she'd been moved slightly to "face" the last woman. Nor did she feel the rope pull on the hook in her bottom.

And in a cloud of happiness, she heard a whispered voice that entreated her not to lose the place she was in, but to know that, "You are mine...and you are so much more than these...girls," he hissed the last word almost with disdain. "You are a woman, a beautiful, wonderful, and possessed woman. Do you know the pride I feel that I have sought, pursued, and earned you? Do you understand that I measure my self as a man by my ability not just to sweet talk the princess, but to charm the queen down from her throne and kneel at my feet and ask to become my slut?"

His fingers brushed a stray hair out of her eye as he finished and at his mere touch, Amelia started to cum. It was small, silent, and incredible to her to have an orgasm with so little extra physical stimulus, but it filled her inside more than any unfeeling piece of metal up her ass could do.

She became aware of the last woman and her impending use. People were moving towards her and preparing. To her shock, Dave had moved out from behind her and opened the front of his trousers. The woman's hair was grabbed and she was roughly pulled up and told to open her "slut's mouth." When the perfect "O" of her lips had been formed, he thrust his hard cock into her face and pushed her all the way down until his bulbous head was buried in her throat. She was held there and everyone in the room could hear her labored breathing through her nose. She relaxed her throat to accept the girth of him and he held her there. She sounded as if she might gag and still he pressed her face into his short pubic hair.

A new woman moved up behind her wearing an impossibly large strap on dildo. Short, spiky blond hair, small breasts, and a flat stomach made her look like the athlete she was. She looked around at the crowd as a cowboy might just before he mounts the meanest bull at the rodeo. He might get thrown from the animal, he might get gored, or he might get his guts stomped in, but there is a chance that he will succeed and become the hero. So he wants to remember this moment, savor the feeling of all eyes being on him and thinking, "I'm the only one here who knows that this is going to happen." He wants to smile at the crowd while thinking, "You people have no faith. You just don't know me, do you? I can't lose..."

So while Dave impaled the woman's beautiful face on his large cock, the blond placed the tip of the dildo at the entrance to the woman's vagina. She was still holding her own, not choking on the penis in her throat through a supreme effort of will on her part. But when the artificial cock entered her, stretched her hole, and then proceeded to push its entire lubed length fully into her, it felt like someone had punched her cervix. She was only able to maintain for a few seconds and then her mind began to lose control of her body. Her mouth coughed and gagged around the cock in it and her knees bent as the cock was driven into her over and over. The blond was merciless, fucking her charge as if the older woman owed her money.

For less than ten minutes the woman was used as simply two convenient holes that needed to be filled. Her face was a willing receptacle for Dave's cock, for his pleasure at dominating her with his appendage. Her pussy was abused simply because the dominant younger woman behind her enjoyed doing it, making older bisexual "broads" as she called them, howl from her use of them. Two orifices, two invasions, two different goals. But she took it. She took the stretching of her pussy by the huge dildo and she endured the face fucking she was receiving because of her submissiveness, because of her willingness to be used by two people she trusted, because in her slave's mind, her master had lent her to them for this use and she knew it pleased him to see her so desired.

Spent, exerted, and used, finally she was released. Two cocks--one flesh and one vinyl--exited opposite ends of her body at the same time and she sadly, felt empty. A long string of saliva stretched from her lips to the tip of the cock that had so recently been down her throat and for a moment, she wished that she had been allowed to feel it spasm in her, to fill her cum-hungry mouth with his warm, white cum. But that had not been part of the deal; she knew her place. She was doing what was expected and would receive what he decided. And if she was good, she'd be rewarded by her master later. But this was not about her; she knew her place and quickly knelt. She could feel liquid and lube mixed together around her lower opening and her mouth was still wet, but she ignored it all and placed herself in a position like all of the other girls (for the twins were kneeling beside each other now and holding hands.)

Both people, Dave and the blond with the cock, simultaneously said, "Thank you, Marna."

The naked blond moved away into the crowd to where Amelia could not see movement. The room dimmed and the only light left was at the center, shining its soft glow down on Amelia and the circle of submissives kneeling around her. The rope went up another inch and Amelia felt the tug, was sure that the anal hook would lift her off the floor if it was pulled up any further.

Dave turned towards her and Mary picked something up that she could not see. A leather riding crop caressed her inner thighs as the bobbing, spit covered cock bobbed in front of her Dominant as he moved her way. Amelia's bliss increased as she found her worth to him increase and she felt the outpouring of love for her from this group. Everyone in the room was there for her pleasure, she suddenly realized. Every friend in the room, passing acquaintance, and recognized face had come to see Amelia fly.