By Tara Richardson
The Doll
The red shiny sheath dress confines my body, only the designer slit all the way to my hip allowing my stocking clad left leg and bare thigh to escape.
I stood ready for this special occasion.
The only problem was I could see nothing because of my blind fold.
I was dressed for dinner, but I was the meal.
Hands held mine in almost human manacles, as they lead me through a door.
I sensed the room was large and cavernous by the clunking sound my four-inch heels made on the wooden floor. The hiss of excitement hid the numbers from me, but not the realisation in the breathing, fidgeting, and the odd cough that in front of me was my audience.
All around me shuffling bare feet moved, their perfume almost overwhelming me as they moved in close. I shivered their fingertips tactilely touching my body. Fingers ran through my hair, their tips on my face, on my shoulders, over my dress, and deliberately grazing my breasts and their receptive nipples.
I feel the hands behind me sliding down my spine, and over my clenched bottom; the tips fondling the bare skin of my thigh sliding around and under my dress, adjacent but not touching my snug fitting thong.
My sensors were overloading my body, I wanted it to stop, but my body wanted it to go on. I let out moan, when a finger grazed my pubis through my dress. I felt the warm breath of anonymous woman on my bare back, and her long fingers pulling the thin shoulder straps of my dress down over my arms. The hands continued to make my skin tingle, and then I heard and felt the zip of my dress sliding down my back.
I could do nothing for strong hands secured me. Fingers gently pulled the dress over my breasts freeing them to display my emotions to the invisible audience. Gentle tugs made the material slither over my quivering belly past my thong to fall in a gossamer ring at my feet. The final halo of my modesty was gone. In a moment of fluttering cloth, I had been turned into the visual sexual plaything for the pleasure of these outsiders.
Behind my blindfold, I can only imagine what my invisible audience can see. The girl caressed by black hold up stockings, and confined only by the curving thin silk of her snug thong, my smooth sex not hidden but shaping the thin red material.
I hear a gasp from the audience, and the figures around me move in closer.
Fingers return to my flesh, touching and caressing my throat, my chest. Invisible hands their many digits, cupping my breasts lifting them squeezing them, gently massaging my nipples, a single fingernail scraping my tender swollen teat. I instinctively pull my body back, but hands from behind push me forward back towards my tormentors. A hand with long fingers slides over my tense bare bottom, and under me, following the line of my string enclosed inside the cheeks of my ass. Delicate but strong hands coax my thighs apart to welcome the long hard fingernail to the material of my soaking wet thong. I lean back and hands come to support my back, bottom and legs. I feel the soft, silken fingers on my ankles and on my wrists, and before I fully realize what is happening to me. I feel my body lifted clear of the floor, my shoes removed; my thighs parted brutally exposing my swollen sex weeping inside its thong.
Holding me still, the hands adjust their positions on my body so in unison they display my flesh on an undulating bed of quivering fingers.
Unsupported my head falls back, displaying my curving body to the invisible watches. The sacrifice to their lust held aloft for them to see. I feel the hands rotating me. My head lulling back, almost as though I were unconscious or even dead. The body with its twin hills and eager peaks, the flat plains and curves, the bulge of the female pubis encased inside a thong, showing all those eyes, the swollen closed lips of her smooth trembling sex.
I was the ultimate doll for their amusement. Quivering flesh hot and submissive, designed by nature for reproduction, now used only for pleasure.
Strong hands slowly part my thighs spreading them wider still, my thong now taut like a drum skin across my sex. I blush wondering what they can see. The long fingers return under my bottom sliding up along my crack searching for my button. I can only shiver and whimper. The fingers play with me across the shiny material bridge of my panties. My back curves even more with the multiple shock waves pulsating through my spine. Hands grip me tight securing me to those tormenting fingers. Held up for presentation my nipples scream when more fingers touch, pull, pinch and stroke them. Hands slap my belly creating the drum skin sound, and push down on my stomach to enhance my smooth full pubis trapped inside its drenched thong.
The hands move my body forward so the audience can see me even better. Fingernails run along the twin hemispheres of my tense bottom carving red furrows along my naked flesh.
The silent women torment my flesh without mercy. My thighs frame my throbbing sex to show the audience the shades of darkening red on my thong. I gasp with the coldness of steel on my hips, they snip and my thong leaves my body to fall to the floor, allowing the cool air of the room to blow gently on my naked overheated sex
Now my stripped body is displayed to the audience again, my parted lips my inner wetness, the ring of my tight opening. Behind the valley of my belly, the twin hills of my unfettered breasts wobble to the rippling motion supporting me. In my eyes, I can only see the darkness; on my body, the hands are blinding me with sensation.
To the hands preparing me I am nothing more than a throbbing sexual entity.
Slowly they continue to rotate me, and I can only whimper my helplessness as I feel the hot breath of someone on my inner thighs, and hands reaching up to cup my breasts. I shiver when a soft kiss teases my stressed skin. The hands around my thighs and bottom adjust me to the waiting wet tongue, which dips into my channel to taste and lick my quivering heat. I cry out in shock and exploding sensations as the tip flicks my burning nerve endings. I arch away but the hands pull me back, and mouths join the one between my thighs, on my swollen nipples encircling them like wet hoods. I can only groan as my querulous nipples send tiny quivering shock waves along my palpitating belly. I tremble and shake my head from side to side my body crying out.
A long fingernail glides along the bowl of my belly to the hill of my swollen pubis; already my parted lips welcome the hardness into my open wet valley. I try desperately to lift my head, but I feel a hand push it back down. The presentation of my flesh is for the audience not me. The tongue licks my clit and runs down my deep crack licking me tasting me, dipping for a moment into my well. Hands part my cheeks to invite the tongue further. I can only sob as it licks the unbroken spider’s web of my tiny anal ring.
A long slender finger presses on my vulva, and I welcomed it into me. I can feel it long and slim like a probe exploring. Suddenly I tense when the finger withdraws from me, I feel it trail down under me, to touch and cause me to gasp in shock as it presses against my virgin ring. The tongue and lips return to my sex and my torturer begins again. Now I cannot hold back, my three protagonists are women, and they all know their own bodies and of course mine. Two are squeezing my nipples together scraping the raw teats and soothing them again with the warm liquid of their mouths,
The third pushes a finger into my bottom, and a thumb slides into my vulva, slowly they rub themselves against the thin membrane that separates them. They ignore my moans and whimpers and continue like pitiless machines. I can no longer halt the rush of emotions and exploded in a cry of pain, pleasure and shock, my head shaking from side to side, my thighs quivering, my back almost snapping in two under the shock wave, as I arch almost clear of the hands supporting me. It is intense for it comes from the darkness of my mind, the dark monster within me awoken by my throbbing nipples and my weeping sex. My buttocks turn to stone my thighs to stretched rubber bands, almost tearing from their bones.
The intense organism racks me, pouring my emotions in a deluge over me. I can do nothing as my vagina goes into spasms between my aching thighs. Hands move them wider apart callously exposing my sex to the unseen eyes to show my open red swollen vagina as proof. The hands under me hold me up to show my shivering body, and again I am rotated for the audience to see me. The humiliation of clinking glasses as my audience toasts my orgasm, whilst I can only display the power they have over me.
A hush descends the room, and I feel the atmosphere change, and a tension now pervades the chamber, and I want to see. I cry out for the blindfold’s removal, but a hiss close to my ears silence me.
The bare feet hardly make a sound only the creaking floorboards taking the weight give me an indication where, and possibly gender. I sense the fingers tense, I try to move but the hands keep my body open to its audience. Lowered slightly I feel another presence close, the sound invades the cavity of my ear like an echo, what is it? The sound comes to me and I stiffen someone or maybe more, are preparing a man. I cry out as the sound suddenly stops, and I visualize in my mind a girl holding the hardness and bringing it to my swollen sex.
To confirm my guess the head touches my open lips and I can only feel the kiss of its tip as I curve my body against it waiting. I wonder how tall he is and realize he must be on a dais looking down at my helpless body. The hands of my captors now tighten like clamps around my arms and legs. I sense eyes looking up between my open thighs seeing what I can only feel, imagining what it will be for me to receive this into me. The hands move me and I gasp and moan, the cock stays ridged, hard and stationery. The hands force my vulva onto it, stretching me over its size and hardness. I shake my head unable to stop my body being compelled to accommodate the thick shaft sliding into me. I cry out in pain for my sex is gagging on the width, but the hands hold me like a doll. Without any, pity they slide me further down its length. It feels like heated stone turning to iron inside me. I feel full, almost bursting. I cry out for it to stop, and feel the hands ignoring me.
The unknown frightens me and I tense around the shaft. The hands sense my fear and tighten their grip on my quivering thighs as they move me relentlessly down its length. I blush knowing eyes are between my thighs looking at me swallowing the monster into my body. It stops and for a moment, my naked bottom feels a pair of large balls rest against them. I ‘am so full so tight I can hardly breathe. I have taken this entire stranger inside me, but it was a close run thing.
In my blindfolded world, the wrong things are happening to me. Shivers race down my spine and goose bumps erupt on my arms. Warm breath caresses my neck, bringing every nerve ending to tingling awareness. Dormant lusts crackle with sizzling new energy now centred on the huge cock buried in me. The sinful imaginings should not be turning me on. However they are. Who was he, I had no idea.
I feel and imagine the hands on my thighs, so long and elegant. As they open me to him. The bobbing of my throat indicating the effort needed to keep him in me. I can only croak my body now impaled on this womb kisser. In my mind’s eye, I try to visualise what he can see looking down at me on my bed of hands. The luscious girl, with her ample breasts heaving with every short gasp as her body tries to come to terms with her impaling. Below him held by other women my nipples hard and begging, my thighs spread wide, and my slick, wet sex full of his thick cock. The hands binding me, helpless now for just my sex and breasts are in his view.
A single hand begins to clap from the audience followed by others, slowly like that of a single stick striking a drum; the tempo begins to echo from the walls. I feel the bed of hands tense, as they move me away from the cock inside me until all that is left is the tip, and slowly to the sound of the hands, they slide me back down the length again. I cry out for they are fucking me to the rhythm of the clapping. Slowly at first, I feel the brutal shaft opening me. My body aches from the pressure on the straining muscles of my thighs, nevertheless the hands keep me cruelly wide-open to this man. My body can only feel his huge cock nothing else. I try to come to terms with the ruthlessness of the moment. I am nothing more than a big masturbation doll. I cry out when the hands push me hard onto him and I feel the pain of him touching my cervix. The enormous cock is making me gag. Yet as I cry out in pain, the audiences hands increases the tempo. The girl impaled on the man, from their seats I was a curving body, smooth and devoured of pubic hair. The body of a girl responding to their commands like a remote control puppet. I blush knowing they can see from his gleaming shaft that my wanton body craves for him.