I didn't think places like this actually existed, or if they did, I figured Berlin, San Francisco, Amsterdam, some other den of sin, sodomy and vice....but Melbourne? Well, there I was so there you go.
To be fair the 'dungeon' I was housed in was just a converted brick garage on a half-acre block in the inner eastern suburbs, not actually within the bowels of some gothic castle. But it is quite surprising what you can do with some velvet hangings, soft leather couches/benches obviously taken from a home gym, mood lighting and the like.
I was in a cage, covered with a dark blanket that didn't - a little bit to my astonishment - smell of either sweat or dog. I could obviously see nothing, and not feel much; if I reached out to the front, sides, behind and even above me I could feel the metal bars and beyond the rough cotton of the blanket. Beneath me some kind of pillow was making things a little more comfortable for my arse, which was welcome, given that Mistress Cassandra had already given me a general 'I'm horny so you bleed' beating this afternoon. Not that I mind or even am I complaining, gosh no! My cunt drips just at the thought of those afternoon before a big night out torture sessions. However if I was going to sit in the dark I preferred to relax and meditate, all the better to keep my body in pristine condition to please whoever required it tonight.
Perched cross-legged on my pillow I sat there, my hands on my knees, my back straight, my head resting against the bars behind me. The cage itself was resting on the floor but the pillow insulated me from the cold. Because I was approaching naked. Not quite of course, but close enough. I did have boots and black, elbow length latex gloves on. A cheap latex zip-up corset was tightly enclosed around my waist, ending just below my breasts, leaving them on show for the whole world, or the invitees to this party at any rate, to see. And of course I wore a tight black leather collar with a d-ring attached around my throat.
Mistress Cassandra had told me that we were going to a swinger's party some weeks ago but I wasn't exactly sure what the whole deal was. A slavecunt's place is not to question. I hadn't actually seen much of the venue, guests or our hosts. As soon as we'd got here I'd been bustled into the dungeon-cum-garage, divested of my coat and locked in the cage which was then covered in it's darkened shroud. From the sounds of it there was a fairly – excuse the pun – swinging party going on in the main house adjacent. Mistress Cassandra had told me a little about it; she'd come across these apparently regular parties via good old internet dating, we'd both been invited, it sounded fun and the couple organizing it were apparently well off and both pretty attractive. Sounded good to me. Although pretty much everything she says sounds good to me. My Goddess could say 'Katie eat this plate of cow shit' and it'd sound good to me, lolz!
I'm not sure how long I spent sitting in the dark, breathing deeply, focusing on stretching my muscles and generally enjoying the feeling of my body being awake and warmed up. It was at least an hour, quite probably more. But eventually I heard the door to the 'dungeon' opening and couple of male voices coming in. 'Is she here?' 'Yeah, under the blanket', 'Man, this is gonna be sick'.
They sounded young. I allowed myself a small giggle before I saw light filter in as hands gripped the cloth from the outside and pulled it from over my cage. I slipped on a sexy smile and looked up to...oh my! Two boys, one in an oversized pair of boxers, looked about my age (late teens) blonde, tanned, looked sporting a decent sized hard-on beneath the silk and pictures of Homer Simpson. Not bad. His companion, however...fuck! Words like 'greek god' and 'adonis' come to mind. I usually dismiss guys who oil their hair, shave their bodies and spent fifty million hours a week in the gym as kind of faggy, but well, kind of faggy is actually a bit of a turn-on you know. He was tall, chiseled, olive skin, dark hair, late 20s, piercing eyes. He was wearing nothing but tight leather pants and a latex chest harness. He looked like some guy from a gay leather porn movie, or my fantasy of one anyway. And I was hoping that wasn't a cucumber stuck in his trousers.
It wasn't. He flopped it straight out, a good thick, semi hard 6 inches, nice and with growth potential. He was obviously experienced and not shy too. Good. I like it when someone takes charge of me. He stepped up to the cage, poked his semi through the bars and said 'what are you waiting for bitch? Suck!' It was all I could do to hasten to oblige, giving him my customary initial deep throat with slutty 'I'm such a bad girl' eyes looking up and oooooh, he just stayed impassive, his eyes saying 'I'm not impressed, keep blowing me you slut'. I was in love! I reached up to fondle his balls and slipped back to just keeping the head in my mouth, working my tongue in a circular motion, my other hand risking a quick tug on my freshly pierced right nipple before reaching out to balance myself on the bars and draw myself closer.
Blondie now had his cock out and was wanking it. I took my leather boy's cock out of my mouth for a second to say 'come here and poke that through honey' before returning to the job at hand. My hand enclosed leather boy's shaft and I worked my mouth up and down, swirling my tongue around the shaft, coating it with saliva. Once he was in range I gripped blondie with my spare hand and started vigorously pulling him off.
I've never understood before in porno movies how girls can have a few cocks in front of them and swap back and forth between them, using hands and mouth, going from one to the other and maybe a third. When I have a cock in front of me I like to give it my full attention, pleasure it until it shoots it's cream then do it again, and if I'm lucky a third time. I'm a dick-milker by heart really. And this isn't the first time I've sucked off a few guys at the same time, but it was the first time I got the whole smorgasbord-appeal of swapping back and forth, getting these shafts nice and wet and hard. Blondie was a fucking monster. I could now see why a kid like this - seemingly a dime a dozen on the 'dating' site we used - got invited to this apparently 'select' event. Not every eighteen year old possessed something almost as long as a 30-centimeter ruler and cut like a rock. Leather pants wasn't quite as big, but boy was he fucking thick. I'd have lips like that freak dude from Aerosmith by the end of this!