Ruby stroked my hair, gave me kisses, and told me I was pretty -- all things I would have tried to hide from, so kudos to both of them for the forethought to tie me down. And I don't know precisely what the devious implements used on my nipples were, but they had a powerful... I'm not sure what to call it. Sucking force? Made my nipples throb and puff up. One nip is still bruised and purple. It was some kind of dark magic, no doubt.
I'll be honest, I don't have a solid recollection of who did what when. I kept my eyes closed for a lot of the ensuing chaos (sweet, sweet chaos). It's the only way I could 'hide.'
Between the pussy slaps, the wand vibrator, and the unbeatable, unbearable, unbelievable sensation of all those hands on my body at once, I started cumming (with permission, of course, Marcus is very strict about that). It was difficult to stop after that. Difficult to stop a lot of things, really. I get, umm... very loud, but not very verbal, you know. So, the noise started too; the incoherent begging, and the inevitable declarations that I was dead. The huge mess was also inevitable. It poured out of me in spurts, soaking the table, the floor, my butt, my partners (who, bless them, did not complain).
When Ruby forced eye contact and made me cum on a countdown while Marcus worked my cunt, well... that happened. I don't know what to say. It was intense and I've never been good at countdowns, but I managed it.
She sat on my face too, which, as anyone who eats pussy can tell you, is the fucking gold standard.
I noticed early on she had lovely hands. I found out quickly that they're very talented. And then, most importantly, one of them was inside me. I was thrilled, until the wand was applied directly on my clit again. I definitely remember screaming and having my thighs forced apart a few times while I squirted out every drop of liquid that remained in my body.
I also remember being blessed with his big, gorgeous cock to suck, something to quiet me down (I don't think it worked) and distract me from the deep existential terror that comes from within when you're restrained and forced to cum to past the point of overstimulation, into the 'I'm going to cry for real and it's going to be ugly for all of us' stage. To that end, it worked a bit. Plus, I just really like sucking cock, so it was a win.
I can't say I cried actual tears, I legitimately didn't have moisture left in my body. But I definitely made unpleasant sobbing noises.
Just when I thought about tapping out entirely, it was determined her hands were too small to fist me, and he needed to step in. Cue more orgasms, more screaming, and more ugly sobs. His hands are... whew. Yes. Yes please, but also, oh god.
When I was good and done, I got released from my bonds and sat up. The world was a different place then, compared to when I laid down. And I, too, was different. Lighter. More at peace. And definitely dehydrated.
There were a lot of grounding touches and more than a little hot wax dripped on my skin while I sat on the edge of the table, which in retelling it now, seems like it should be out of order. But I promise you, it was so damn soothing as I was coming down from the peak of probably around twenty orgasms.
I got water and some fluffy blankets and watched as she writhed under Marcus's attention. It was hard to focus -- I was dropping in and out of that odd, tingly, 'after' space -- but Ruby was probably almost as loud and squirmy as I was and I was delighted.
Now there are dried wax flakes on everything I own, but I ain't even mad.
