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~~ This story was originally written after a day of teasing and together fantasizing in an online session, leaving me behind pretty restless and I decided to write a story for my Dom, knowing shortly after He would receive it He had to attend a meeting…He actually never did ~~

*So much thanks to ThelMeriman for pre-reading, editing, advise and…Your commands*

* * * * *

I walk slowly along with small, shuffling steps. The moment I slow down too much, I feel your hand on my back, a soft but firm push… and I walk on. The crunch of dry leaves and small twigs beneath my feet and the humid scent of the woods around me have been the only sensations I felt for a long while. I occasionally feel again your strong hand enclosing my elbow, guiding me around an obstacle, reassuring me.

No matter how much I wanted to obey you, I struggled when you calmly, almost serenely bound my hands behind my back and blindfolded me. Even all sound deserted me after a few whispered last words, “Trust me.”

The last straw… my gag, both hated and loved; I never know which one it truly is. So humiliating, making me so aware of my place, my role; the certainty that, after some time, I will be drooling, not even being able to verbally struggle; but also, arousing me, making me horny, making me feel safe and eager to please. The twilight at the parking lot was replaced by the ultimate darkness of my own thoughts. I am alone, locked inside myself. Tears run down my face. To an outsider the reason is, perhaps, obvious; inside me, I do not know why. This is not the first time I have found myself in this position. But… something makes it different this time.

You placed me in the back seat of the car. At first, I thought I was able to follow the road you traveled, but I was soon lost. The trip seemed to go on for hours; maybe it did. Losing myself in my own thoughts was not an option; you would not let me. Again and again, your fingers found their way through the sheer fabric of my dress and found my nipples, teasing, stroking, punching, soft, harder, and really hard; reality calls.

After a long time, the car slows down, finally stopping. You help me out of the car, leading me towards…where are you leading me???

After a long walk we stand still. Not until then do I fully realize what it means to have lost all of my senses. Instinctively, I want to look around, listen, experience where I am right then. Whatever I try, not a sight or sound reaches me. The only reward I get for my efforts is a hard slap in my face. I’d better stand still. The wind that surges outside is replaced by sudden warmth, as if I had entered some secluded space. Two softly pushing hands under my elbows guide me forwards. Two hands? The hands push down on my shoulders, the pressure increasing, signaling me to stand still. Involuntarily, I turn my head in all directions, searching, still hoping to catch some glimpse of where I am. The pressure builds further. Slowly, my knees succumb while I try my best to land somewhat comfortably on my knees — impossible Betturkey when you have no clue what you are doing and your arms are bound. Finally, I feel the cold surface of the ground. At the same time, two arms reach around me and pressure builds on my clothing. Damn… he/she… them… who???? They are tearing my dress apart. My fingertips reach for as much cloth as I can gather and I try to… What am I trying to do? It sure won’t help.

Hands grasp my hair in a firm grip and pull my head back hard. A soft kiss is planted on my forehead while your breath caresses my tear-stained skin. For just a moment, the slight panic inside me subsides a bit. At least you are still here as well. My head at an impossible angle, forced upwards, I feel hands on my breasts, hands…and ropes. My breasts are bound tighter and tighter, so fast it seems like quicksilver. I lose count of the amount of rope and the number of hands that are holding the ropes. Softly, hands run through my hair now, soothing, calming, reassuring. Slowly I start to surrender. Your last words echo through my mind. I do trust you!!

Gently, I am helped up and am led by many hands further towards the warmth. Around the corner once more. Again the pressure on my shoulders forces me to my knees. Someone is handling the straps of my ball gag. Yes. As the lock is opened, I await the release, longing to finally be able to talk and communicate again, being able to swallow. I open my mouth a little in anticipation when I feel the slightest pressure on the gag. I feel the fresh air and breathe in deeply. At that instant, there is pressure against my lips again…something cold, hard, metal it seems. Quickly, the straps behind my head are fastened again. Someone is handling the gag; suddenly there is pressure on my jaws. A lot of pressure. I moan, wanting to scream, but I cannot. The accumulating pressure forces me to open my jaws further and further. My god, this is a spreader like I used so many times at the ear-nose-throat wards. I struggle, fight, resist as much as I can. I try to get up and run, but a hard blow to my left cheek, followed by one on my right cheek, stun me for a moment. A hand entwined in my hair forces me to stay put. The hand releases my hair after a moment. I try to move my head in vain; I can only assume that my gag is now linked to the rest of the bondage, forcing me to look up all the time. Kneeling, looking up at…god knows who…

Fingers near my ears, stroking my cheek, removing the plugs…at least they are gone. At first I do not really notice any sounds, just my own rapid shallow breathing. Perhaps I am just too overwhelmed by being able to hear again. Even as I gradually begin to make out sounds, I am not sure what I hear. The murmur of voices, loads of them, people all around, a lot of people. Where am I? It still does not really make any sense at all.

I hear movement behind me. Suddenly, the warmth of another body presses against my back. Hands encircle my waist, moving upwards, softly caressing my tightly bound breasts. Shivers run over Betturkey Giriş my entire body as your breath flows over my ear before you softly whisper, “Trust me, trust me my little whore”.

A million thoughts run through my head; conversations we’ve had, shared fantasies, your threats. You wouldn’t… would you? All doubt ends the moment I feel your hands pinching my nipples hard. At the same time, a cock slowly slides into my mouth through the gag. Deeper and deeper, as if there is no end. I gag and try to pull back, but your body behind me and the two hands firmly grasping my face deny every movement. For the first time in my life, I am truly face-fucked, although if you would have asked me before, I would have told you; I knew what you meant…oh, no…this is for real. Hard, even strokes by an unknown cock.

Tears run down my face, partly from the tension, but also from the shortness of breath brought by each stroke, my throat totally blocked time after time. The moment I feel the cock in my mouth harden even further and feel that familiar twitch, I want to swallow…want to…but soon realize I cannot even do that. Sperm against the back of my throat and I need to cough, swallow, I want to spit it out. Totally in vain. The sperm dribbles down my chin and mixes with the tears that were already there. In the few seconds before another pair of hands enclose my face and the second anonymous dick is forced between my lips I realize that this is also a part of me. Even this, is part of what I can and will be for you, I realize, while I am so very aware of my own juices running along my thighs.

Four, five, more… maybe ten? I have no idea how many have used me like this, how many men’s sperm is slowly drying on my face, my chin, my neck and my breasts, sticky and smelly. The scent of sex permeates the air around me, forcing me even by smell to realize what is going on. My true struggle ceased long ago. Subspace mixed with pleasure has made me the toy you wanted me to become. Willing, ready, horny. Your slut, your whore. I do not even register that your fingers have ceased to thrash my certainly now blue breasts and are now slowly removing the blindfold. Slowly, I start to notice the glimmer of small lights, shortly after I become truly aware of what I am seeing again. I blink and want to close my eyes the moment I truly see. Losing your sight might be horrible, but it does allow you to withdraw a little from what is going on. It is much safer.

“Look at what you are doing my slut, look at what you are going to do some more,” you say sternly. My eyes slowly get used to the poor light. And I become aware of the queue of men, slowly masturbating, whispering amongst themselves, watching… some in clear contempt, some merely showing their lust, but all with that knowing look of anticipation in their eyes, waiting… for me.

“All of them here just for MY whore,” your voice echoes in my ears, as the first man in line slowly approaches me and takes his place. His cock routinely shoved inside my mouth, deeply Betturkey Güncel Giriş face-fucking me. Still I am gagging from the force as my throat is entered again and again, while your fingers slide over my belly towards my cunt, feeling, testing.

“You slut,” you hiss in my ear. “You are enjoying this, aren’t you?” I cannot answer you verbally, but why should I even try? My body is telling you all, revealing my deepest secrets. The shame, taboos, fear, all kind of feelings and thoughts run though me. But, in the end, these all succumb to the overwhelming pleasure. Damn it! Yes, I am enjoying this. I am enjoying being used because that is what you want from me, and it gives me the opportunity to be as much as you ask from me, it makes me able to let go.

The tone of your voice changes. Harder, stricter, almost mean as you sneer at me. “After all this time, you should have known better, you filthy whore! Shamelessly enjoying all these cocks entering you, enjoying being fucked by them. Only MINE should give you pleasure.”

I want to struggle, fight, I want to explain what is happening, I want to ease your anger with soothing words, but all I can do is press my back against your body and hope and pray, you know better. I get my pleasure because of you, through you… only you. Ohhh, if only I could tell…

One man follows the other. Sometimes, while the men change places, I can catch a glimpse of the queue slowly getting shorter, not quickly enough for me. Again and again, your accusing words echo in my ears. I vainly try not to enjoy myself. My jaw cramps, becoming unbearable, tears still running and snot in my nostrils making me gasp for air more and more. Your fingers on my cunt, pushing, stroking, caressing and massaging. “And she gets even hornier. Aren’t you my slut?”

You curse, accuse, while your fingers play me like a guitar string. You start slowly, but soon your manipulations become faster, harder, and I am already this wet and horny… I get more aroused by the minute. I cannot block out your word. I try with every ounce of willpower to hold back my feelings, my heat. I am too exhausted to really get frustrated and mad at you, but anger is surfacing slowly inside me. What are you thinking…do you really think I can hold back now?????

My mouth is filled with another anonymous load of sperm and I cough, fight for some air, I am suddenly, harshly, pushed forward, my face to the ground. I feel you enter me in one forceful thrust. Your fingers keep stroking my clit mercilessly as you fuck me harder then you have even done before, using me. You pound and pound into my cunt. And finally…finally! You moan hard in my ear. I feel your body stiffen and your cock twitch. “And now is your time to get pleasured, my slut…by ME!!!!…cum.”

The orgasm that flushes through me like a big wave is overwhelming, breathtaking, exhausting, almost painful and not until much later do I really enter reality again. Lying on the ground with your weight on top of me, still panting, gag and bonds long gone, wet skin on skin pressed against you as much as I possibly can, frantically holding on to you, while your hands soothingly stroke my hair and you kiss my face.

“This is how I want you to behave…like MY whore!” You speak softly and with great pride in your voice.

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