I lead you onto the stone steps, our progress echoing coldly as we descend. The walls here are narrow, and the steps steep. You use the handrail to keep your balance. It is dark here, except for the naked hanging bulbs.
Below us, space opens into a large brick and stone chamber, with a low curved ceiling and crooked archways at the far side- maybe a converted wine cellar of some sort. Flickering candles give the room an orange tint, casting long sputtering shadows.
In the centre of the room, under a large hanging cast iron chandelier is the bed. A small rectangle covered in silk sheets, with a single iron post at the head. Attached to the post is a length of cord and on the cushions beside the cord a black shimmering scarf; a blindfold.
The room is exactly how you anticipated, exactly how I described.
I ask one last time "Are you sure you're ready for this. When the evening starts, know there can be no going back". You respond with a silent nod. You understand the rules. You will have to obey, without question, all of what is expected of you- whatever the cost.
I take you lightly by the hand and lead you to the bed. You take the small steps to the side and stand on top of the sheets, looking down at me on the floor. You know what is expected of you. With the nervous tremble of anticipation, you slide the dress straps from your shoulders. It falls from you easily, leaving you naked- exposed. As commanded, you have come here with no underwear. As you become aware of my eyes scanning your body, admiring your figure, you blush and involuntarily move one arm across your chest and a hand to between your thighs. You see the side of my lips curve upwards on one side, a small smile at your obvious discomfort. Realising the pointlessness of your gesture, you move your arms back to your sides. I motion for you to turn, and so you do. You rotate all the way around and face me once more. You can tell that I'm impressed by what I see.
I pick up the scarf and you kneel down before me, your face now level with my own. I place the smooth fabric up to your eyes, and you feel it pressing tightly as I tie it behind your head. You feel the tug as I pull strands of your hair free from under the blindfold. I prefer it that way. My fingers come under your chin, gently lifting it, turning it from side to side, checking the scarf is in place and secure
Taking you by the hands I guide you down onto the bed. You lay on your back and raise your hands above your head. You feel the cord wrap tightly around your wrists, many times before the final knot is made. A gentle pull confirms your suspicions- you are now bound to the post. I see your lower lip purse, and I place a finger there to silence you; remember, there can be no questions now. That time has passed.
You feel the cool softness fall down upon you as I cover your naked figure under a silken sheet. Your sensitive skin responds to the light touch, gooseflesh rises. Suddenly, the ringing of a small bell. Footsteps echo as the others enter the chamber. The popping of a cork, the pouring of Champagne, quiet murmurs abruptly stop as positions are taken around the edge of the bed. You can feel their eyes on you.
The sheet is slowly raised up from your feet, trailing over your body as your calves are exposed, and then your thighs, higher still. Now you can feel the space between your thighs is revealed, and there the sheets remain across your waist.
Fingers glide across your naked skin, tips coming to rest on the blushed meat of your lips, sliding lightly to the top of the opening where your swelling clitoris is becoming exposed. You guess these slow, expert, fingers to be my own as they come to rest just over the hood of your clitoris and pull back the looser skin. You can feel the thumbs remain as the fingers return lower and spread you wide. Your muscles pinch. In your mind's eye, you can visualize the strangers watching as these hands play with your wet opening for their own personal pleasure. Now the fingers venture inside, reaching down and pulling back. First a little friction, but so very quickly you become moist enough to accommodate the questing digits. The rubbing is light but fast, as I know you like it, leaving you panting under the silk sheet, growing hot.
With a shock, you feel another hand, this one outside of the silk, starting on your hip and moving so lightly up your side to your arm. Then another hand, this one firmer and more callous, cupping your breast, the thumb caressing the fabric against your nipple, already so hard and aching, clearly visible below the silk. At first, you are filled with alarm, helplessness, but as more hands set upon your body, you soon discover that your body is enjoying the sensation.
Another set of fingers glide across your inner thigh- you feel the gentle prick of long nails. The hands working between your legs are joined by a third: two hands keeping you wide, thumbs stroking your swollen pink tip, while a finger slides in and out of you in a slow rhythm. You can feel the wave building up inside you, waiting to break and release, as your body contorts and stretches below the roaming hands.
-When suddenly the finger pulls out, and all of the roaming hands retreat. A groan escapes you. In response, you hear a small chuckle from some of your audience. Your mind races as you try and imagine how many people are down in the chamber- maybe five or six others, excluding you and I.
Now the sheet is tugged from your body, all the hot air trapped beneath it suddenly replaced with the chilly bite of the chamber. A moment that feels like an eternity passes as you wait expectantly for the hands to return. Instead, A single finger slides against your open pussy. It lightly traces the opening before leaving. The same finger reapers at your mouth, resting against your lips. It is clear to you that you are expected to suck the juices. You accept the finger into your mouth and roll your tongue around the knuckle, allowing the sour taste to fill your senses.
You feel the gentle resting of a light arm on your inner thigh as a fingertip comes to rest on your pussy. As you continue to suck the finger in your mouth, the finger between your legs circles your clit- you can feel the gentle prick of a long fingernail catching your flesh and you realise with a jolt that this is a female's hand. The finger in your mouth slides out, leaving your lips pursed and jaw open. Now fingers stroke the side of your face, all the while the feminine hand works your clit- so, so lightly. The fingers on your face trace your lips, exploring your gums and mouth. Suddenly they close on your jaw, pinching your mouth further open. The female arm leaves your leg, as too does the hand.
"Put out your tongue," commands the voice, not my own. You obey.
You feel another tongue lightly stroking the tip of your own, and as that happens you feel something soft and wet come to rest on your clit- yet another tongue. As the tongue on your own slides and strokes, so too does the one exploring your flushed and glistening meat. Lips close around your tongue and suck- such an unusual yet sensual feeling. At that same moment, lips close around your clit and suck. You realise that whatever is done to one end will be mirrored at the other...