Olivia pirouetted slowly, gazing at her reflection in the full length mirror. A vanity purchase, admittedly, and the money could have been used far more responsibly. No regrets. She loved the way it reflected the Christmas lights strung along her book cases, hung all year round, turning her bedroom into a place of magic and transformation in her imagination.

Through pretty, she’d never been vain about her appearance. She owned the cute girl next door look. She was Betty of Archie fame. Not tonight, though. Tonight she would shed her skin – already had, in fact. She’d spent all afternoon pampering and preening. Clean and smooth from head to toe, and smelling faintly of cinnamon and of something even more primal; sex.

Absently, she lifted her index finger to her lips, inhaling the subtle fragrance of her sex, her tongue sliding over parted lips, wetting them before cleaning the single dew drop lingering like a peach, warm and ripe and juicy.

She paused again, standing sideways, her reflection pausing in tandem, noting how her nipples jutted out from perky breasts, and how her chest rose and fell as desire coursed through her body. A fleeting thought wormed its way into her mind, and a finger trailed between her breasts, grazing the soft flesh of a firm tummy, before veering off to trace her hip bones, making her tremble with lust.

“Not yet,” she mused, as if arguing with the girl in the mirror. “It will be so much sweeter if you wait.”

Steeling her resolve, she pried herself from the reflective glass and knelt and reached under the bed, pulling an opaque storage container out on the bedroom carpet. Taking a long, deep breath to quell her excitement, she removed the lid and sat back on her heels, lower lip pulled firmly between her even white teeth.

“Shiny. Pretty.”

Latex. The mirror had been a luxury. This was a necessity. Tantalized by the sheen of the material, she spread her knees slightly and cupped her hand between her legs, caressing her damping pussy, feeling her fingers slicken with each pass. Just that, just enough to lessen the growing need. Or fuel it.

It had become a ritual of sorts. Dressing. She recalled the first time she had donned the outfit. Clumsy and unsure. Timid, even. It had been slow work to make it fit just right, to be perfect. It was still work, but now, she was sure of herself.

She took her time, enjoying herself as she lay on her back and encased herself in black. Legs first, stretching the rubber material over her feet, carefully pulling, until it was a second skin covering her legs, pausing just below her already dripping sex. Carefully, she wiped herself dry, ignoring the call to do more. She did take a moment to savor the taste, however. Ambrosia and ecstasy mixed into a delightful cocktail that she was content to paint her lips with like gloss, forcing herself not to lick them clean as she completed her task, covering her cunt and the lower half of her hips, making sure the zipper was perfectly aligned with her wet slit, eyes rolling slightly as she felt it settle in between her puffy lips.

Next, the gloves. They felt cool in her hands, but already she could feel the heat trapped within her below slowly building. Closing her eyes she enjoyed it, trembling softly, an almost soundless moan escaping from parted lips.

“Control yourself,” she admonished with a firm voice. Just a little longer, and then you can relinquish it to your hearts content...”

She carefully worked her fingers into them, one at a time, peeling them up over forearm and bicep until her arms were encased to the shoulder. Pausing, she lifted herself to her feet, and positioned herself in front of the mirror once more. She smiled at the way the Christmas lights reflected off the shiny rubber, her eyes bright and wide.

“Pretty,” she mouthed, her lips forming a kiss as she turned slowly, admiring the stark contrast of black rubber and lightly tanned flesh.

The top came next. Capped sleeves, high necked, a zipper parting it from her as to the base of her skull, acting like a second spine. Once it was zipped tight, it formed tightly to her, showcasing her erect nipples, putting them on display. She knew from experience that a single touch would send a jolt of pleasure through her torso. Tempting, yes, but denial would make it even stronger. She felt her heart beating, thumping in her chest like a trapped insect, pushing the blood to her extremities. She could feel the hard busts on her breasts swell against her shirt, her clit gorging with blood as it pushed against the metal of the zipper.

“Oh god,” she breathed, unable to move, lest she it became too much for her to bear, fighting, once more, for control. Eventually, she found it, but it was a tenuous grasp at best.

“Patience!”

Eventually, she took a deep breath, watching the way her breasts swelled, trapped by her outfit, her nipples poking deep inverted dents in the thin material.

Almost done. Two more pieces. Or, rather, two before accessorizing her outfit. First a plastic piece that fit over her mouth and nose, silencing her. It was similar to a commercial hazmat mask, but has been designed especially for her. Reaching behind her, she buckled it into place beneath the soft blonde hair that fell to just past her shoulders, making sure that it was snug and yet comfortable. There was a single opening it, a hole, into which she carefully inserted a small rubber hose, end brushing the tip of her tongue, the other protruding out about an inch, so that her night out wasn’t curtailed by dehydration or worse, suffocation, testing it before fully satisfied that it was as secure as the rest of her fetish gear.

Next, the hood. Carefully she worked it over her head, zipping it closed before threading her hair though an opening in the back, creating a pony tail, the only clue, besides her bright blue eyes peeking out through slits, to her identity. She could feel the cream in her pussy seeking freedom, foiled by how tight her suit fit her, moaning softly as she closed her eyes for a moment, the moment growing into a minute, and then two, before she slowly opened them once more, her breath catching in her throat. One last look into the mirror was called for.

Black from head to toe, save for her hair and her eyes. Carefully, she rearranged the small triangle shaped opening of the hood so that it framed the breathing mask she wore, exposing only the face of it so that she had sufficient air. She recalled the first time she’d worn it and how worried she’d been that she’d suffocate herself accidentally with a fond chuckle. She’d grown much more confident in the past year.

Now, to accessorize. Kneeling one more, she carefully removed the remainder of her gear and set it out carefully on the bed. Black leather cuffs. A pair that fit her ankles and a smaller pair for her wrists, each one paired with a small padlock and a key and a D shaped metal ring. A matching collar, a small round ring adorning the side opposite the buckle. Shoe, or rather, ankle boots with a three inch heel. A belt, much like the cuffs, the front and side fitted with D rings similar to them as well.

Boots first. She pulled them over her latex clad feet and zipped them up before buckling her cuffs round the top, ensuring that she couldn’t remove them, no matter how dire the circumstance with removing the thick leather strips first and that would be impossible without the keys, once she secured them with a padlock.

Same with the wrist cuffs. The keys joined the others, one by one, in an ornate glass jewelry box on her nightstand. They’d be staying home, safe and secure, awaiting her eventual return.

Next, the belt. Locked in place around her waist, snug to the point of constricting. It, too, was locked. And finally, the collar. It was thick, limiting her ability to lower her chin. Deftly, she buckled it behind her head, careful not to trap her loose pony tail beneath it, locking it in place as well, the key joining the others.

Finally, she was nearly done. She would wait until she was at the club for the remaining items; a blindfold, leash, and seven short metal chains in a small leather pack. One last look in the mirror stole her breath away. Olivia was no more, hidden behind the anonymity of latex and leather. Safe behind the skin tight material, she finally relaxed, beginning the process of slowly relinquishing control. By the time she reached her destination, it would be gone like the cool autumn breeze that was blowing just outside her door. She left the house, her state disguised by a long black over coat, her keys, cell phone and wallet stowed safely away in an inner pocket, and slid into the back seat of the cab she’d prearranged for, not saying a word as he pulled into the sparse traffic and wove through the city, knowing, by now, that she would ignore any attempt at conversation, leaving her at the door of a former factory turned club, garish neon bathing her in purple. DV8, it boldly declared, bringing a hidden smile to her lips. A siren’s call to her and other like-minded people.

It was early yet, not yet 10. It would be closer to midnight before the club began to really fill up. She’d arrived early on purpose, seeing as tonight she was planning on leaving her comfort level at the front door. She paid and entered, stopping at the kiosk guarding the dance floor and bar, the first of three levels.

Single. Green, she responded silently, muted by the mask, tapping the box containing the desired beacon. Two simple words which ignited the heat between her thighs and spread through her flesh like electrical currents.

It was an ingenious system. Before entering you were given a small tag, powered by a watch battery, to wear. A circle for those accompanied, a triangle for those alone. There were three colors for each. Red meant hands off. Yellow signified, ask first. In the past she’d always worn yellow. This was the first night she’d dared to wear green. Green left her open to anything, as long as she didn’t use her safe word, which she took a moment to write on the back of the tag, something the club insisted upon. A terrifying thrill filled her, knowing she would be mute.

The bathroom doubled as a dressing room and was about the size of her old high school’s locker room, with rentable lockers to stow away her valuables. Fingers trembling slightly, she attached her tag to the ring on her collar, declaring herself ‘open game’ as soon as she pressed the tiny little button that turned it on. She would wait, wanting to get her bearings first inside. Wait until the room filled up and she was lost in the crowd. Her breath hitched at the thought, almost painfully, and her nipples ached beyond anything she had ever experienced.

Painstakingly, one by one she attached the end clasps of one of the chains to the ring on her right ankle cuff so that it formed a short loop. She repeated this process with the other cuffs as well as the trio of rings on her waist cinch. Next, her leash, which was attached beneath her tag so that it trailed down beneath her encased breasts, the leather loop at the end dangling over her extremely wet pussy.

The last item, she let dangle from one hand as she finished up, locking away her coat and all else. She would need to save the blindfold until she entered the main floor, a mere few moments away. calming herself with deep breaths was almost impossible. Nervous anticipation dug its claws deeply into her as she exited the locker room and headed for the heavily padded set of double doors emblazoned with the clubs name and logo, this time in red, her heels clacking faintly on the polished concrete. Already she could hear the pulse of the music beyond mirroring the beating of her heart closely. She was aware of other guests as they passed through the large doors, aware of the way they paused, gazes raking over her slowly, admiring, their thought practically telegraphed in their expressions when drawn to the yet not yet lit tag that dangled from her collar.

Standing to one side, she carefully covered her eyes with thick padded leather, buckling the piece behind her head so that all light was denied her. Only her sense of touch and of hearing would guide her now. She felt wonderfully helpless.

Trembling, Olivia pushed at the door, feeling it swing slowly open. Music spilled out; EDM. She barely heard the bouncer within, startling as he took her hand and guided her through the portal, taking a moment to check the back of tag to insure that she her safe word was in place before closing the door behind her, committing her as she finally relinquished all control and surrendered herself to primal need, and not just hers.

She took her time, taking a few hesitant steps before pausing, eyes closed behind the blinders in concentration as she mentally drew a picture. Bar to the right, dance floor to the left, stairway straight ahead and slightly to the right. The first floor would fill first as people relaxed and loosened up, had a few drink, and started to get a feel of the other guests. Second would be much quieter right now, and the third wouldn’t even be available until midnight, she mused, using the pulse of the music to guide her as she turned toward the dance floor, feeling the need to burn off a little of the sexual tension that seemed to be building incrementally. She needed to be touched so much that she found it hard to concentrate.

She’d decided earlier that she wouldn’t touch herself unless asked, or told, to, but her will power was already beginning to waver as she slowly made her way towards the pulse of swirling synthesizers, the deep bass almost a physical presence. Once or twice she felt someone brush up against her. It was impossible to avoid that, here, even if she wished to, which she didn’t. Each little contact was glorious, reminding her of her state until all she could think about was being touched, enough so that she grew bolder in her steps, anticipating any accidental physical exchange until she found what she thought might be the perfect place to halt and let the music take her for a while.

It was more of an erotic sway, a sensual tango with an invisible partner. It felt good to move her hips, her torso, smiling behind the plastic mask that covered her face, realizing that she was, in effect, advertising herself. Her flesh felt heated beneath the thin layer of latex as if she glowed from within. Thirty, perhaps forty minutes had passed since entering. If she waited, there was always the chance that she would change her mind. Tonight wasn’t about regrets, it was about surrender. Pausing, she fumbled with the tag, pressing the button carefully, unable to see it light up and reflect softly against the shiny encasement she wore.

It started with a touch, gentle, tentative, a simple brush of fingers that trailed from her shoulder to the back of her hand slowly. Her breath caught and her eyes closed behind her blindfold as the stirrings of ecstasy tingled through her limbs. She paused in her slow seductive dance and let out a soft murmur of pleasure, unheard over the music coming from the DJ booth, and she could feel a fresh dampening in her overheated pussy. Man or woman, she wondered? Impossible to tell, not that it mattered. She simply craved to be touched, and intimately.

Another touch, fingers stroking through her hair, gently combing, their tips continuing down the back of her spine as she shivered in delight.

“Yes,” she hissed through the breather that covered her mouth. “Yes.”

A hand cupped her ass, squeezing playfully, the grip strong, masculine. A fleeting gesture, and then, gone. Her movements changed, her dance becoming more sensual, hoping to draw more attention. Unable to tell if she was being watched was both intoxicating and frustrating, as was the pull to run her hands over her breasts and down between her thighs while strangers watched, lust boiling in their veins.

“Anything?”

A voice near her ear as she felt a tug on the green lit tag dangling from her metal collar. She simply nodded, reaching up to tap it as well, signaling agreement, heart beating rapidly.

“Such a pretty plaything.” His voice, masculine and strong, his touch the same as he gripped her hair, tilting her head back, making her gasp silently, and again when she felt a hand pushing between her thighs, pressing the zipper between her puffy lips and what felt like the thick fleshy pad of his thumb pressing into her swollen, wet clit, massaging it slowly.

Finally this, she thought, trembling, a mix of raw emotions teasing her, some of them unsure, some of them hungry, all over-ridden by the way her body responded, craving so much more.

“All that lovely rubber makes you hot, doesn’t it, pet,” he leered, his voice teasing. “Don’t want to get overheated too quickly.

Her breath caught as he paused, searching for the zipper tap, eventually tugging it slowly down, parting the teeth. The air felt delicious on her now soaking pussy as her pants slowly parted, exposing her to any voyeur who’d noticed his actions. He stopped, halfway down, leaving her sex partially covered, his thumb pressing once more into her nub, simply holding it there. As if on cue, she began to grind her hips gently against it, pressing herself into his appendage, each moan growing louder as she neared climax, almost crying out when the contact suddenly stopped.

“Not so quickly, pet. Let it build until you’re crazy with lust. It will be so much more rewarding. Let me assist you. Give me your hand.”

Pliantly, she let him lift her right hand, feeling the tug as he unclasped on end of the thin silver chain from the ring adorning her wrist cuff, fighting off the surge of panic as he guided it to her side. She could feel him threading it through the ring on her belt, his fingers tracing the leather material so that she could easily follow his movement as he attached the other end to the front most ring.

“Other hand. Now.”

She hesitated only a brief moment before submitting to his quiet, yet forceful, command, placing her hand in his, trembling as he followed suit, securing her wrist to her waist. Curious, she tested her freedom. The chains were long enough that she couldn’t free herself or worse, reach between her legs and touch herself. Just long enough to give her an inch or two to maneuver. The illusion of freedom.

“You look amazing. Perfection,” he praised. “I think I’ll leave you here for others to enjoy. It’s what you want, if I’m not mistaken. Before I depart. Tilt your chin down for me.”

She complied, without question, wondering what he intended.

“Take a drink. Slowly. It’s just water. Sip it. It would be a crime if we didn’t keep you wet all night.”

Thankfully, sucked slowly, feeling the cool liquid spread over her tongue, swallowing carefully, until she’d drained a good portion of the water bottle, only coming back up for air when she needed to clear the tube so she could breathe, a little light headed.

“Enjoy your adventure,” he quipped, as she felt him remove his presence.

“Thank you,” she murmured as best she could, knowing that her words were lost in the noise of the club, giving the chains a sharp tug, satisfying herself that her bonds were inescapable, not that she had much time to contemplate her predicament. Her unknown visitor had broken the ice, or so it seemed. She felt a pair of hands on her breasts, cupping and squeezing them like ripe fruit, playful at first and then much more aggressively, causing her exhale suddenly. Another fondling her ass cheek, groping her without ceremony, finger tips digging into latex and flesh, suddenly gone.

She let out a surprised yelp as pain flared through her ass cheek, she sound of the blow almost audible over the loud music, pushing her forward, off balance, into the stranger abusing her breasts, fingers flailing like panicked birds on her trapped hands, as she felt his chest against her cheek and his rough grip tightening on her tits.

A moment of panic, and then… You wanted this, she reminded herself. She’d chosen to surrender all control over everything. She gave in quickly, momentary regret swallowed by primal craving as another sharp blow landed across her ass and her tits were mauled by two voiceless, faceless strangers. God knew how many were watching her be defiled even as she pressed her partially exposed cunt against rough denim and began slowly grinding, the heat of humiliation heating her cheeks as she gave in to her cravings, grunting as more hard smacks where applied to her bottom until her flesh felt like it was burning.

She protested mutely as she was pushed away by uncaring hands on her shoulder, and then downwards, unable to resist. The blows had stopped coming. A pause or cessation, she wondered. A sudden slap against her cheek, not hard. Her imagination went into overdrive as she felt it again. A cock, big and meaty. She felt the sensation again on her other cheek, fingers digging into her collar bone as he held her down on her knees. The scene in her head was vivid. Jeans undone, his cock on one hand, stroking as she knelt before him. The man, or so she assumed, behind her grabbed hold of her blonde tail and yanked her head back so that she stared towards the heavens.

“Going to cum all over those pretty little tits of yours, baby.”

Feminine laughter, although not cruel, caught her ear as she was guided backward until her ass rested on her heels, gripped beneath her underarms.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Unmistakable sound of someone coming hard drew her attention, followed by the faint sensation of something hitting her in the chest. Cum. She concentrated, picturing it hitting her breast, splattering against her latex before trickling down between her tits, over her taut belly, making its way towards her exposed cunt. If only she could touch herself. It wouldn’t take much to make her come, but struggle as she did, her hands were firmly locked in place.

“My turn.”

Another slap on the face, this time against her right temple, and again on her forehead. It felt meaty as well. Big enough to stretch her cunt, if he wanted. Hands shifted, passing her to someone else, another pair supporting her. She could feel his ankles against her thighs as he stood straddled above her, jerking himself off, grunting softly, or so he imagined.

A faint sensation as she was showered with more cum, this time striking her painfully swollen nipple.

“You look delicious,” The woman’s voice again, “My husband’s cum all over your perfect little titty.”

Her eyes went wide behind the blinders as fingers teased lightly over her nipple, smearing still warm spew in random patterns, then down wards, slowly, inexorably, towards her dripping wet cunt. She followed the movement, unable to speak or even move, as it grew closer and closer. She needed to come so badly that she wanted to scream when, instead of slipping her cum covered fingers into her wet slit, the woman simply plucked the zipper pull between her finger and pulled slowly upwards, patting her mound softly once she’d been sealed up again.

Again, laughter, this time laced with a hint of cruelty filled her ear as she was helped to her feet, helpless to protest. That, and a parting gift as her air supply was suddenly invaded by the fragrance of arousal. A single digit held briefly to her air tube, scented by the unmistakable aroma of another woman’s pussy. And then she was alone, turning slowly in place, trying to reorient herself, wondering where the bar was, the front doors, the stairs, her body gyrating without thought to the pulse of the music as she did her best to maneuver across the floor towards where she hoped the stairwell was, unable to keep from being fondled and groped by unseen patrons as she brushed through the thickening throng.

It wasn’t long before she realized she was hopelessly lost and paused, feeling slightly bewildered and a little bemused at her predicament. The feeling faded as she felt a hand on her ass, caressing her firm cheeks, and then a finger drawn up the crack between them, making her hiss with desire and suck her breath in. Another touch, this time between her thighs. She slid a foot to one side, permitting his fingers to trace her swollen lips through the thin layer of black rubber, her chin tilting slightly as he continued to stroke her while another set of hands traveled up her back, thumbs pressing upwards along her spine, sending shivers through her.

“You’re by yourself.” A rhetorical question as she felt a soft tug on the green lit tag on her collar. Still, she nodded, unable to communicate through words.

“Would you like some company?”

Again, she merely nodded, slowly, but firmly.

“It’s still early and it’ll be less crowded upstairs. More intimate. And I have friends who would enjoy your company.”

True, she thought. It was always like that. The party was still going on the main floor, attendees loosening up at the bar and on the dance floor. Letting go of their inhibitions or building up courage or simply scoping out other guest in hopes of finding the perfect hook up. Eventually, many of them would gravitate to the somewhat less frantic, comparatively intimate second floor. It had been divided into two rooms, one more lounge like, with booths for socializing. Quieter too. While you could sometimes feel the vibrations from directly above the sound system, it never intruded over the more sedate musical selection. There was a bar as well, and cuisine for those who needed to indulge in something more than debauchery.

The second room was off limits for single guests and she had only been through the short curtained hallway that led there twice, both times accompanied by men she’d just met. The memory of kneeling at their feet, her lips wrapped around their cocks as they ruthlessly fucked her mouth and filled her throat and belly with cum filled her suddenly and a fresh wave of hunger took hold of her.

Less lounge like, more of a playroom and softly lit. There would be porn playing on the televisions, most likely, and couples would be taking advantage of plush couches and padded leather benches as inhibitions were shed. Towards the back, the furnishing were less mundane. She recalled the shocked excitement she’d felt on her first visit back there. A polished wood stockade on a small wooden platform had intrigued her. She’d watched in fascination as a middle aged woman wearing only a pair of leather boots had her hands and head latched in securely before being spanked and paddled by a young blonde in a red leather dress.

A rectangular table that stood about waist high as well. Padded, with hooks at each corner and along the sides, used to secure willing subjects. Nearby was a plush padded recliner, also adorned with hooks and rings in strategic places. And then, there was the cage, an oversized dog carrier modified so that one to secure ankles, wrists and throat. Just thinking about being locked inside it and at the mercy of the entire room had her rushing home from work every night to masturbate in the privacy of her bedroom for weeks after her first glimpse.

Against the far wall, was another stairway, this one leading to the top floor, a place she’d yet to have visited; a fully equipped dungeon awaited, as well as private rooms, she knew that much. To either side, a variety of hooks, rings, and bars had been placed, their functions obvious to even the most naïve.

She was brought back to the present by a sharp tug at her collar, reminding her of the leash she’d attached earlier, and the fire between her loins stirred sharply. “Come.” One word, and then a moment of silence, before, “Heading towards the stairs. I’ll guide you.”

The leash hung loose, just a gentle reminder that he had taken control of her destiny. She swallowed, once, twice, her pulse quickening as he gripped her bicep firmly and maneuvered her through the bustling crowd, unable to keep her completely free of contact, but able to get her safely the first step.

“Slowly,” he told her, firmly taking her hand and placing it on the smooth metal handrail. The chain gave her just enough leeway to wrap her fingers around it.

“Up. One at a time. We have all night, after all.”

She shivered deliciously at the thought, wondering what he, and his friends, had in store for her. It took forever to reach the top of the staircase, the music fading slowly and then obliterated as they passed through a short hall, closed off at both ends by sound proof doors, each guarded, if memory served her right, by bouncers.

“First, I want to clean you up a little. I want you to look pristine for me. Would you like that?”

She nodded with enthusiasm, wanting to please, wanting to look pretty for him. “Yes, please. Sir,” she managed, adding the title on a sudden whim, her words muted, but clear, now that the din of electronic music was distant.

His chuckle was rich. “Good girl.”

He cleaned her up in the restroom carefully, making her sigh with bliss as he cleaned drying cum from her torso, her nipple aching each time he touched it, until he was apparently satisfied.

“Perfect.”

Beneath her mask, a timid smile beamed between blushing cheeks as he gave her an approving pat on the ass, his hand lingering long enough to feel possessive.

She heard muted Jazz playing softly, quietly enough that she could pick out other sounds. Conversations surrounded her, punctuated by laughter and the occasional clink of glass or plate. Somewhere nearby a woman moaned softly, the tone erotic. She let herself be led blindly across the tiled floor, heels clicking softly, into the unknown by a man she’d never met before, never seen, with no knowledge of what was in store for her. Once more she tested the chains that restrained her wrists, eliciting a sharp bark of laughter.

“Don’t worry. I’ll adjust those more to my liking soon.”

Her imagination began to run wild at his words, her thoughts turning once more to the room adjacent to this one as he wordlessly steered her with the occasional sharp tug of the leash. Her attempt to get her bearings and discern where in the room he was leading her was quickly abandoned as each step, each course change, became an unsolvable mystery. Her mind wandered. He’d mentioned friends. The bar, perhaps, or one of the booths. How many, she wondered. And what about him? She knew nothing about him or his kinks. Doubt warred momentarily with desire and her feet stopped moving just long enough, quelled by a sharp tug on the leash put them into motion again.

“Good girl,” he praised her, suddenly by her side, stroking her hair soothingly, his lips pressed to her ear. “Give in to what this-“ she felt his hand cupping her, stroking her pussy, fingers pressing into latex, exploring the line of the zipper up to the tab and then down again. “-craves.”

Her thighs parted slightly, giving him more access as his touch traveled along her sensitive taint. She moaned softly, pleasure surging suddenly as the tip of a finger pressed against her puckered anus through the shiny black material. She felt herself quivering with yearning that drove out any doubts she might have harbored still. She felt warm, feverish, almost as he continued to touch her intimately, his hand sliding up her taut belly to her breasts. She groaned softly as he began flickering her nipple, his nail smacking against it painfully over and over until she cried out softly. And then, the other, treating it the same, driving all rational thought from her mind, another sharp tug setting her feet into motion once more, this time, eagerly.

The sound surrounding her changed, she thought. The sounds of Jazz fading, her footsteps echoing slightly, and then fading as she felt carpeting beneath her heels. The soft cacophony of the bar was replaced by a mixture of more primal sounds. Her mind flashed to her previous two visits to the room she presumed they were entering. Porn played in the back ground. Conversations surrounded her, seductive in tone or simply dirty. She picked up the occasional grunt or moan of pleasure as they passed through. More than once she felt touches, some merely a brushing of finger tips, some less reserved, leaving her tingling as unseen hands teased her at whim, leaving her breathless as her pussy began to fill with trapped juices.

“They all want to fuck you. To use you. To fill your holes and cover you with their cum. Before the night, perhaps they will. Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” she hissed shakily, loud enough for him to hear the word. “Oh god, yes. Please.”

“Good. Now turn for me and take a step back,” he ordered her briskly.

She complied, and felt herself backing her ass into an unyielding object. She sensed him let go of her leash, his hand suddenly on her hips as he lifted her up easily, settling her on the edge of what must have been a table. She felt it give beneath her weight, and her thoughts whirled curiously, recalling her previous visits, coming very quickly to a conclusion. She felt his hand against her chest and her breathe quickened as he firmly applied pressure, pushing her backwards. With her hands chained to her waist, she had no way of breaking her descent. Soon, she was prone, her legs dangling down, slightly spread as she gazed blindly towards the ceiling.

“Help me with her.”

She felt herself being rearranged, a second presence joining in, so that she lay flat on her back, the padding of the table cradling her comfortably, her heart beating against her ribs as her legs were spread wide and the chains she’d placed clasped in place were used to secure her ankles to opposite corners.

“No,” she moaned as they ran their hands along the insides of her wide spread legs, stroking and caressing her calves, the insides of her knees, and then, her inner thighs until she was a trembling mess, her fingers tightening into fists as she dug her nails into her palms, her pussy clenching and unclenching with each touch as she began to gyrate, her hips lifting slightly.

“She’s going to be a lot of fun to play with.” A different voice, masculine as well, thick with lust.

“She won’t disappoint, no. Will you?”

It took her a moment to find her voice as she felt his hand slide over her mound and search out the tab of the zipper, twisting it from side to side teasingly before releasing it again.

“No. I promise.”

“So eager to please.” And then, silence as her wrists were freed and stretched over head so that they mirrored the spread of her legs before being attached similarly, leaving her spread eagled and helpless, her pulse racing at her predicament, wondering how far this would go; how far was too far? She felt flushed, her flesh heated, unable to escape the confines of her suit, most of it radiating from her cunt. Panting, she began slowly twisting on the table, testing her bounds tentatively, satisfied that there was no escaping. She was at their mercy. Unable to control herself, she began to rock her hips in frustration, wanting to draw attention to her aching pussy, groaning with relief as she felt pressure, the flat of his hand, between her thighs, pushing her ass back into the padding, once again, prying the zipper free, tugging it playfully, than drawing it slowly down.

Her breath caught, her entire being focused on the slow progress of the teeth parting, breathing so hard she was in danger of hyperventilating. Time stood still as she caught her breathe, holding it, her chest filled almost painfully as he revealed her sex, taking his time, letting the tension linger, pausing several times. Each time, she shook her head, and murmured a protest, causing him apparent amusement.

The ordeal must have lasted a full minute, although it seemed even longer. Finally, he released the metal pull, leaving her sopping wet pussy fully exposed as she lay spread eagled on the table.

“I’m going to leave you her to think about that for a while. I promise to return. Eventually. A little distraction to keep you occupied until I do.”

She felt something hard and cool press between her puffy lips and into her drenched slit. And oval shape, one easily recognized; she had several egg vibrators of her own. It was a favorite toy and this one filled her nicely. He zipped her up, sealing it in, with a single unhurried pull, his hand linger on her belly, stroking idly, finger tracing her lower ribs through the latex, making her shiver, back arching away from the table. He slowly made his way towards her breast, drawing a slow inward leading spiral around one, and then the other, grazing the tips, chuckling at her whimper as he began to squeeze, pinching until pleasure became pain, and pain, pleasure as she felt the egg come to life inside her, pulsing with slow steady vibrations. She began to writhe, pulling against her wrist cuffs in a vain attempt to free her hands, to no avail. It wouldn’t be enough to make her come, merely enough to keep her on the edge and deny her any hopes of orgasmic release. It was beyond cruel.

“So sexy to see you squirm. You’ll be doing a lot of that tonight. Enjoy. I’ll try not to be too long. And who knows, you might have unexpected company.”

She tensed, head moving from side to side, the plight of sightlessness taking root. There were others in the room, of that she was certain, able to pick out a mixture of other voices. How many of them had watched, were watching now, perhaps lingering closely, watching has he left, designs of their own on her? A delicious thrill tore through her, knowing that they could do anything to her, with her, and she had no recourse but to let them. That, mixed with the exquisite torment of the egg, was almost enough to bring her to climax, leaving her edging in orgasming purgatory.

“Such a predicament.”

A women’s voice, and touch, presumably, tracing a line from her wrist along the inside of her arm, to her pit.

“Yours, of course. And mine. I could play the good Samaritan. Or simply ignore, but…”

She felt her presence as she climbed on top of the table, carefully straddling her. Olivia felt the stranger’s weight settle on her chest, pressing her back into the padded surface, felt her thighs pressing against her out stretched arms. The tube in her mouth shifted slightly as if being prodded, examined.

“Just makes me want to take advantage of you.”

She breathed in pussy, the weight of the woman shifting, descending as she repositioned herself above her head. She breathed in the overwhelming fragrance of arousal, her mind reeling as she fought for breath.

“It’s a bit smaller than I prefer, but it will do.”’

An image flashed alarmingly through her lust addled mind; the unknown voice squatting over her, half naked, her breathing tube slowly disappearing into her over-ripe pussy as if it were a dildo. She bucked, panicking suddenly, her moan lost inside the woman’s cunt as she felt a hand beneath her head, lifting slightly, forcing her forehead into the other woman’s mound.

She fought for breath, hands grasping at air, toes curling in her boots, finding it suddenly, and then feeling it’s lost once more, a rhythmic motion that repeated itself over and over. Above her, she heard passion; a soft sigh, a little moan, a lustful grunt. The smell was so invasive that she could taste it, cloying in her throat and nostril. She fought for air, panting, the sensation seeming to heighten the waves of frustrating pleasure that the vibrating toy was emitting, making her writhe and squirm with a renewed vigor, thrusting and humping her hips up and down, driving her ass into the table top as she desperately sought to get herself off, crying her frustration into her defiler’s cunt.

“Oh, fuck.”

She felt her come, heard her, felt her grind and shake and seize, her weight mashing the back of her skull into the thick pad, holding her there until she thought she might pass out from lack of oxygen, her body twisting and turning in near panic, gasping for breath when finally she could breathe once more, moaning as another wave of denied pleasure snaked through her. She could still smell, taste even, the musk of wet pussy. It coated the rubber tube that fed into her mouth.

“Poor little thing’s in heat,”

Another voice, female. Teasing laughter, directed at her, followed by hands running up and down her legs, stroking her inner thighs sensuously, driving her slowly towards the brink once more, only to leave her hovering on the edge, unable to push past, despite her increasingly incoherent moans.

Movement as the woman dismounted, satisfied for now, leaving with the sound of a soft kiss against the rubber opening of the tube.

“It was lovely, as are you,” she murmured into one ear, her voice earthy and sensual. And then, gone, leaving her in darkness to the mercy of other hands roaming about freely, not only her thighs now, but her breasts, exploring her body, taking advantage of her helplessness.

“As promised.”

A familiar voice, the man who’d led her here, presumably with others, the friends he had mentioned.

“I need to cum so bad,” she managed, her voice shaking, catching in her throat as pain shocked its way through a suddenly pinched nipple.

“Good,” he replied, a cruel edge to his voice as his hand went to her other nipple, twisting it through the latex until she cried out in pain, fire spreading through her tit, the vibrations in her pussy suddenly intensifying until she lost all control and was consumed, coming over and over, her moans turning to cries as she pleaded for him to stop, not to stop, replying yes, she would, to every dirty, perverse question he posed.

“Yes, anything, anything, oh god, oh god, please,” she managed, shaking from head to toe, fingers and toes curling, back arched almost painfully as he fought her bonds, her hips lifting off the table over and over until, finally, the egg was still in her soaking wet cunt.

Olivia floated, pain and pleasure weaving through her flesh as she lay on her back, helplessly spread, her wrists and ankles bound to the table.

“So vulnerable. I want to see it in your eyes, pet”

She didn’t resist as her head was lifted and the zipper that sealed the latex hood she’d put on earlier was drawn. It was almost a relief to feel cooler air prickling against the nape of her neck. She felt the buckle on the blinder being released, blinking as sudden light penetrated the pitch black she’d been in since entering the club, eyes slowly focusing on his, and his companions, face.

Dark eyes, darker hair, a well trimmed beard, Forty, perhaps. Nearly twice her age. Suit jacket, no tie. Experienced, obviously. He removed the hood slowly, freeing her hair as she regarded the others, blue eyes blinking.

The other man. Blonde, slightly younger, his nose slightly crooked as if he’d had it broken. A close fitting ribbed shirt that showed off his chest and abs. The word yummy came to mind.

Two others, both women, both as good looking as the men. A blonde, her red latex mini dress clinging to her like a second skin, the straps of her garters clearly visible against her milk white thighs. Her lips stick was bright red, and her eyes dark with mascara.

And a red head with a playful smile dressed in tight leather; pants, knee high boots, blouse and corset, her straight auburn hair spilling over her shoulders, shining beneath the dimmed overhead lights.

All attention on her, gazes wandering over her latex clad legs, her cunt, her tits, drawn to her face as the zipper was drawn down, as rubber was peeled away, allowing her hair to spread beneath her head.

“She’s pretty. And young. I like them young,” smiled the redhead as she rested the tip of a crimson on Olivia’s hip, slowly tracing her hip bone until the she shivered with delight, reacting to the sensual feel by rolling her hips slowly, as she focused on the woman’s smile, head still as the plastic mouth piece was removed as well, finding it a relief to be able to breath normally again.

“A mouth made for sucking cocks, Daniel,” she continued, her fingers tracing the juncture between thighs and hips, until Olivia began to squirm once more, panting softly as she watched the world through half lidded eyes.

“And licking cunts, Jess,” he replied, tracing her lips with his finger tip, slipping it between them, his smile approving as she took it eagerly, sucking it into her saliva filled mouth, her tongue sliding back and forth, lying pliantly as Daniel and Robert, as he introduced himself, undid the chains that held her in place.

“Olivia. Livvy,” she replied nervously when queried.

“Daniel. My wife Jessica. Robert. Eva. Tonight, you belong to us,” he said, giving the still lit tag that dangled on her collar a double tap with one finger. “Understood?”

“Yes,” was her breathless reply as he and Robert helped her sit up, her limbs trembling still.

“Yes, what, Livvy?”

“Sir?” she replied hesitantly, cornflower colored eyes going wide.

“Good girl. Here. Drink.”

She took the glass carefully, using both hands, sipping cautiously at first, more quickly as she realized how thirsty she was, the water soothing her dry throat. Soon, the glass was empty and Daniel removed it from her hands while Eva, positioning herself behind her, carefully braided her hair into a pony tail, tucking it in carefully as replaced the hood on Livvy’s head, zipping it closed before letting Robert rob her of sight once more with the blindfold.

“Now, the real fun begins.” Jess’s voice. She felt her heart skip a beat as her legs were released and she was helped off the table, her leash growing taunt, forcing her to follow, doing her best to keep up. She felt a hand on her ass, cupping one cheek, groping her. Then, heavenly vibrations from the egg once more, drawing soft whimpers from her now uncovered mouth.

They paused, fussing over her, drawing her arms tightly behind her back and fastening her wrists together and then, to the belt buckled securely to her waist. Hands played over her, touching her everywhere, keeping her in a state of constant arousal, of heat, unrelenting, making it difficult to concentrate. Someone kissed her, Daniel, she guessed, his tongue pushing between her already parted lips, his mouth fierce. She answered in kind, hungrily sucking on his tongue as he mauled her breasts and a hand cupped her cunt from behind, pushing her thighs apart as fingers pushed against the seam, pressing against the egg they’d implanted earlier.

She moaned into his mouth, eliciting feminine laughter. Jess’s, she guessed.

“She has a lovely voice. I’m looking forward to hearing her scream.”

Heart pounding, Livvy pushed her hips forward in a vain attempt to hump protruding fingers. Daniel broke the kiss, his lips still brushing against hers intimately, his voice both sensual and menacing.

“Would you like to scream for my wife?”

Shivers shook through her as she felt nails drawing down her flanks, lifting goosebumps all over her flesh. Teeth bit into her shoulder, making her gasp as the hint of pain burned through her. She felt Daniel move away. Fingers beneath her chin, lifting it, sharp teeth pressing rubber into her neck. A soft cry of distress escaped, unbidden, much to the amusement of her tormentor.

“I bet you scream really pretty.”

Breathless, she was afraid to answer or even move as she felt pressure on her aching and rock hard nipple. Beneath her suit, her skin glowed with heat as teeth closed mercilessly, sinking into her nipple painfully, stealing her breath away.

“Oh, god,” she hissed as she felt her eyes rolling in their sockets and her fingers curling almost painfully.

“This is what you wanted, yes?” Daniel again, his hand suddenly around her throat, tightening slightly, holding loosely, then more firmly, and making it increasingly hard to breath.

“Isn’t it?”

She managed a low moan infused with a carnal craving suddenly being released deep within, unable to articulate her answer with mere words, even had she been able to form them. As a reward, the vibrator suddenly came to vibrant life within her saturated cunt once more, building, pushing her close to the edge of orgasmic bliss once more, and frustrating her with ultimate denial.

“We’re going to have so much fun with you.”

Strong arms pushed her to her, unresisting to her knees. Above the soft din of the club she distinctly heard the swish of metal teeth. Without any hesitation, she opened her mouth, welcoming the invasion of hard stiff cock between her parted lips. He, or someone else, cupped the back of her head as he pushed deeper into her mouth, his swollen meat sliding along her tongue, the bulbous head pressing deeper until it became uncomfortable.

“Suck it like a good little cock sucker, Livvy.” Robert’s voice; the rugged looking blonde.

She did her best, swallowing and sucking, her drool pooling in her mouth, coating his prick as he slowly withdrew so that only the swollen heard filled her oral cavity. She sought his cum hole with the tip of her flickering tongue, pushing forward so that she could take it in again, not stopping until she met resistance, chin against his heavy ball sack, nose pressed into unyielding flesh.

And again, fucking his cock with her mouth, her knees spreading wider on the floor, her back curving inward as she took as much as him in as she could. She felt him twitch against her tongue; a sharp spasm. He was close. Eagerly, she craned her neck, trying to swallow him, gagging a little as she opened her throat for his cum. Another twitch, followed by a groan of pleasure, rewarded her, followed by a jerking flood of fresh cum. She could feel ropes of it pumping down her throat and into her belly, some overflowing into her mouth, coating both her tongue and his cock, slick and warm and deliciously dirty.

He let himself go soft before he withdrew, and let out a shuddering sigh of pleasure before wiping his prick off on her lips and partially exposed cheeks. A kiss, then, one of the women, her mouth hungry as she roughly feasted on what cream still filled her cheeks, sucking on her tongue until it ached.

She was lifted roughly to her feet, hands thrust into armpits unceremoniously. The sensations of vibration quieted, leaving the feeling of a lifeless hard plastic ball buried within her moist hole.

“I want to take her upstairs, Daniel,” Eva, by her voice, cajoled, her voice bright and eager.

Upstairs. She’d never been, although she’d been tempted to climb the stairs and peek more than once. Not everyone was allowed, and certainly, not without an escort nor without a green lit tag dangling on your collar. She felt a weight in the pit of her cum filled belly, primal, born both of eagerness and trepidation, waiting with bated breath in the moment of silence that followed.

“Come.”

One word, accompanied by a tug of the leash, set her feet into motion towards, presumably, the ascendant stairs leading up into the bowels of depravity incarnate. She navigated the stairs carefully, balancing on her heels, her hands secured behind her back. Imagination took hold as dark and deliciously wicked images crept from the shadows of her mind.

To Be Continued.