Meeting the Clients
Tonight was the night. I've been in the house for a week now, met all the girls, fucked most of them, and fucked Paul more than once. Now he was ready to show me off to his clients. I was more than nervous, I was downright scared. All 6 clients would be there and I had no idea what to expect. Would they all take turns fucking me? Would I just meet them? Would they watch me and some of the girls fuck, like Paul liked to do? Rachel was keeping quiet and refused to give me any hints, but had a mischievous look in her eyes every time we spoke about it.
I was given black lacy thongs and a bra to wear tonight, and was told to have my hair in a braid down my back. None of the girls were around to help me calm my nerves. Paul took me downstairs to the basement, where the work rooms were. I had never been there before. He stopped in front of a white door and pulled out a blindfold.
"No," I protested. "I'm not going in blind. What is happening?"
He put the blindfold on anyway and I knew better than to try and fight it. My heart was racing. Paul took my hand and walked me in the room. It was very quiet, so I wasn't sure anyone was even there. He led me and asked me to lie down on a hard surface, some sort of narrow bed or table. He tied my hands under the table and I felt a wave of cold fear wash over me.
"Paul, what is happening?" I asked, my voice small.
"Shut up!" he growled, pulling the ropes tight around my wrists. "You'll find out soon enough."
The table was tilted and my ass was higher up, legs dangling on the side. He grabbed one leg and lifted it into a metallic support, knee bent towards my ribs. He tied both my legs like this, leaving my ass and pussy stretched open, exposed. He then asked me to open my mouth and inserted a soft ring in between my lips. I couldn't close my mouth anymore and I began to panic. He tied the leather straps of the ring behind my head. I tried to protest and ask him what the fuck was going on, but all that was coming out of my mouth were moans and mumbles.
"Are you trying to beg me to fuck you?" Paul laughed. "Don't worry, you'll have plenty of cock soon"
Just like that, it was quiet. I didn't know if Paul had left or if anyone else was in the room. I tried to struggle against the restraints, to no avail.
"The lady is eager and impatient, I see."
I froze. I did not recognise this man's voice. He was probably one of our clients. His hand caressed my back gently and his fingers were soft. I was beginning to relax. He touched my ass and ran a finger down the back of my thigh. I was getting wet, against my better judgment. I didn't want to be forced into this, unable to move, to speak, to see. I was ashamed of being used like a sex toy and even more ashamed at how much the thought was exciting me. I was hoping he'd touch my pussy, but he avoided it, teasingly sliding his fingers all around it. God, I was such a whore! I wanted to be fucked so hard. I should be ashamed of myself, I thought. The fear of the unexpected was still there, like a knot in my chest, but my pussy didn't care. It was getting wet and horny and all I wanted was for someone to touch it. Saliva was flowing down my chin, as I was unable to swallow.
"Your mouth really begs to be fucked," the man said. I felt something hard sliding inside my mouth and when he moaned, I realized it was his dick. He pushed himself deep in my mouth, the tip of his big cock going down my throat. I gagged and felt my eyes water. "I'm Dean, by the way," he said, patting my head.
His cock was so big and thick, the thought of it in my pussy made me wetter. As if reading my mind, the man said "Anyone wants to help here, guys?"
What? There were more men in the room? Scared, I tried to protest, but Dean stopped my moans with his huge cock, making me gag again. Someone laughed.
"The slut is begging for more," another man said, slapping my ass cheek.
"That's Jake," Dean said. "He likes tight assholes."