Authors: C. Elizabeth
“You sound surprised,” he laughs.
“I guess I am. It’s not your bog standard holiday getaway now is it?”
“No. No, it’s most certainly not. It’s
so much better.”
“I’d have to agree,” I
reply in a soft voice.
“Sorry guys, you won’t mind if I
steal her away for a while will you?” Mike asks, well more so tells the couple as he links his arm into mine and guides me away.
“Thanks, I
’m not quite in the salaciously enticing mind frame right now,” I say to Mike.
“Not yet anyway,”
he responds with a smirk. I titter sheepishly as we begin to stroll progressively along the boundless green gardens. Our conversations are impetuous and diverse. I’m comfortable talking to him and I feel less of a trollop when with him, even despite this week pertaining fundamentally to broad-minded, oversexed debauchery. It feels quite rejuvenating to take a break for a bit.
Oblivious
to time, two hours of traipsing through the grounds pass, as we delight in the panoramic landscapes, revel in the warm aestival weather and wonder through the labyrinthine maze. My feet begin to hurt.
I so shouldn’t have worn my wedges!
All this pain for the foolish motive of not wanting to appear tramp-like by flip-flopping around in my broken pumps. Mike notices my discomfort and rings the concierge to have a shuttle driven over to collect us.
I really could get used to this lifestyle. A pity my genitalia would disagree.
Expeditiously w
e return to the castle. As we alight from the comfort of our transport, like a ninja out of nowhere, Diana, the principal hostess of the manor, scarily appears and zips over to Mike yanking his arm from mine. I hear a murmur of abuse being rendered by her as he’s impolitely torn away.
Okay...
I guess he was needed elsewhere.
Woops and fuck you Diana. Stop taking your job so seriously. God, I wonder when last she got it up the ass
. I snigger and make my way back to my room.
There’s a note on the bed. It’s
an invite to attend the Burlesque & Fetish Room. Twitch goes my little Lily. Yes, so I’ve named my vagina. Big wank.
Hmmm, fetish.
I like the sound of it.
I’m right back in the mood again. I guess the fresh air and long scenic walk did my crotch some good. I’m blistered to fuck but my pulsating clit is wide awake and eager to go.
I spruce myself up and
slip into my red PVC number. And by slip, I actually mean, I tug at it, pull at it, rip it back off, powder myself up and roll it back on like a body condom.
Fucking hell, these things should come with instructions
. I’m sweating profusely.
Lovely!
A
aand, breathe.
A text sounds on my
phone. The body-smothering ensemble is asphyxiatingly unyielding to walk in.
I’ll save those efforts for when I need to leave the room—if I ever manage to get out consumed in this thing
.
I
nstead, I take the short cut and lunge the whole of my body across the bed like a humpback whale breaching in and out of the sea. I reach a hold of my mobile from the side table. It’s Karl.
Oh yeah, Karl. Wow, I’m surprised it’s taken him this long.
Received: “Hello lovely, how’s ‘work’ going? x”
Sent:
“Hey you. What’s the inverted commas about?”
Received:
“Nothing really. Just how much work could you possibly do at a spa? LOL”
Sent:
“Oh, right. Haha. I’m getting quite a lot of things done that I’ve wanted to do and
which I’ve put off for a while now actually.”
Well it’s not a total lie is it?!
Received: “Good. So you’re back Sunday still?”
Sent:
“Yep, and I’m going to need some serious sleep. It’s been manic here.”
Received:
“I take it that means I won’t be seeing you then?”
Sent:
“How about we meet up on Monday after work? I’m gonna be really shattered.”
Received: “Sure, no problem. Enjoy the rest of your time there. See you on Monday.”
Sent:
“See you Monday x”
This time I hurl the phone into my drawer. I’m not about to risk receiving anymore texts from my mother during whatever’s going to happen tonight. I hardly want her invading my mind whilst being penetrated from behind by some big cocked guy or licked out by some sassy sex kitten.
I
arrive outside the mammoth opaque room. It’s fitted out with high padded seating—burgundy, all along the sides. Candles twinkle fervently on each table and the booths are seized by extravagantly garnished inhabitants sipping on cocktails, as they synchronously watch over at the stage.
There
’s an abundance of flesh on show. Most guests scantily clad with an assortment of latex, rubber, PVC and leather.
Well I’m just gonna fit right in aren’t I?!
Women and men tightly consumed by corsets, others in feathers, frills and trilbies.
Holy fuck balls that is some sexy attire!
It’s fancy dress in a colossally saucy way.
Behind the closed doors and dimly lit room are masses of varied pleasures being relished and a supply of unorthodox fantasies fulfilled.
I scan the room
some more, indulging in the provocatively captivating atmosphere and wonder what these people do in the light of day when they’re not adorning feathers and spikes, or sucked into rubber and cling-film. Are they bankers? Accountants? Geeky IT guys? Perhaps care workers or judges? Holy hell, they could be my next door neighbours for all I know. I spot a muscular dude wearing nothing but nipple piercings and a miniature padlock hanging from the tip of his penis.
Ouch!
In a corner, a
woman is tied to a large elevated cross.
Dear Fucking hell, that can’t be right!
She’s literally being drilled from below...with a dildo-covered drill! And by a midget!
Although, is that the PC way? Am I allowed to say that? Or is it short person, or little person? Oh fuck I don’t bloody know anymore.
All I’m sure of is that his face is smeared with a forbidden look - an encrusted wickedness. Then again, didn’t everyone.
Whate
ver, either way, this is just so, so, oh so fucking wrong. But why on God’s green earth am I feeling turned on still? I shamefully shake the thought out of my head.
The club is alive with skilfully choreographed cabaret performances, inventive props and extravagant costumes. The shows are a variety of dances, comedy and Vaudeville. The people...oh, the people – what an array. Some noticeably shy - first timers; some jaw-droppingly-room-stoppingly attention seeking, some are boot licking deviants crawling around on their hands and knees.
Fucking hell this world is weird.
The adjoining room feature
s an enormous cage and a trio of pole dance podiums. In here there are fire eaters displaying their swallow techniques, topless girls in hula hoops and a range of fetish acts. It’s like an erotic circus act or a scene out of some dark porno film. It’s so surreal and I fucking love it.
There
are couples stark-naked and fucking each other in the darkest corners of the club. Some are smack in the middle of it. A
mound of naked bodies weaving together like a
pit full of slithering snakes, revelling in a sinister zealousness. There are three women dancing erotically as they watch on. A few of the acts of the night look rather planned and played out and some appear more spontaneous than others.
Holy shit, is that girl even legal?
I’m exceedingly turned on – stunned to fuck but so hot for it all. I want in and I want it now. So I head straight to the bar for a bit of flaming courage and down two shots of Sambuca.
“Have a sniff of this,
” I recognise the voice. It’s Mike. I smile, say nothing and do as I’m told.
Within seconds everything start
s to change. I become light-headed yet energized and tingly. My horniness quadruples. My heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest. Whatever’s in that little bottle, it’s doing amazing things to my body, my head, and my already wanting crotch! I want to dance forever, but at the same time I wanted to fuck anyone within my reach. I want to rip my clothes off and have insane sex smack in the middle of the club; to hell with a dark crevice. At one point I begin to wrap my leg around one of the pillars as if it’s a dance pole and I start to dry hump it. Mike of course peels me off. I’ll thank him tomorrow.
My head
is spinning and I’m ready to fuck or be fucked. I notice a rather attentive couple walk over in my direction. It’s the kind cigarette providing couple from earlier. They each take one of my hands and steer me away from Mike. I feel like a bad little girl being taken to the Principal’s office for a spanking.
Ooh, yes!
They lead me into one of the bestial looking cages, embellished with long dark velvet curtains and a perfectly tailor-made circular cushion fitted for comfort.
Oh so snug.
They lay me gently down on my back and handcuff me to the cold, black iron bars. The guy unzip
s my pore-suffocating dress, exposing my pert tits, and the woman removes my boots and rolls down my fishnets. I’m stripped down to nothing. I notice Mike now watching from outside of the cage.
“Oops
,” was all I could say as I smile at him.
He chuckles
.
“It’s
okay gorgeous, it’s all about you remember. After all, it’s just one of many desires isn’t it?”
I inhale deeply as my eye
lids slowly shut down, lay my head back and let congenially lewd nature take its course. The couple are both on their knees paying me undivided and very much sought after attention. She lifts one of my feet into her mouth and starts to suck and nibble on my painted toes – it’s hideously ticklish—his head hovering above me. I can feel his breath on my face. He’s wearing a leather necklace with a skull pendant which swings back and forth onto my nose as he showers my temple with soft slow pecks.
I open my eyes for a second and notice I ha
ve an audience. I’ve become the exhibition of the night. It doesn’t bother me though. In fact, it galvanizes me even more.
I g
ive in completely and keep my eyes wide open, watching everyone watch me. A few were licking their lips with desire. They were like animals yearning to get into captivity rather than out.
The couple
move in to take turns in kissing me. Her propped nipples rub against mine. One of hers was pierced. She takes my hand and wraps it around his cock.
Billowing balls, that was the biggest one I’ve ever felt.
I begin to massage it as she climbs over and rides my pelvis like a horse.
Someone in the crowd hands her a lit candle which she tilts slightly to let hot candle wax drip onto my belly. I wince at the pain but it numbs almost immediately. I like it. I tell her to do it again.
She does then blows it out and leans over me to kiss the guy. Her tits wobble about in my face as she unlocks the handcuffs, letting me loose. I grab at the first chance of my freedom and move her off from my pelvis, spread my legs apart, then pull her back in as I return my hand to the guy’s cock.
The woman and I
are in a scissor position. I’ve seen this on a porn film before, but never had the opportunity to try it. And I must say, OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD! The touch of a woman’s wet pussy massaging against mine was out of this world. The softness, the wetness, the heat of our aching pussies rubbing together was driving me insane. I thought I was going to explode. The more she rubbed, the harder I squeezed and stroked her husband’s cock until he came all over my tits.
She looks down at me and slaps my face demanding that I come with her and not a second before.
Did that seriously just happen?
I
release his cock and pull her closer to me. I want her tits to slide up against my come-covered breasts. I squeeze her ass cheeks and dig my nails into the fleshy bulges as she keeps fucking me, faster and faster. The crowd are now cheering us on, telling us to climax together. The room is spinning, lights are flashing everywhere. I’m blinded by all the extreme pleasure and my abs hurt from all the tensing. I pull her in even closer and she fiercely grips my nipples as she tells me she’s about to come. I gyrate even more vigorously against her as she lets out the loudest scream. I arch my back and neck as I climax with her as she falls forward onto my chest.
I can’t see straight, I can’t even sit up without falling back over. It’s like an earthquake in my body. I lie back down for a little longer as the couple lean in, kiss me and climb out from the cage. Mike extends his arm out for me to hold onto as I too emerge from the enclosure.