Chapter 78

The night of the party came quickly. All of the mansion’s eager or not-so-eager whores, plus Emily as well, were arrayed in your brand new catsuits. Each one tailor-made to fit as absolutely tight to your young bodies as possible. Each was a different colour, and each had various, little additions such as hoops and velcro straps so that you could be bound up in all manner of awkward positions. Like the BDSM power rangers you were arrayed, flaps already left open to expose the varying genitalia each possessed. Skeg and Nancy fussed back and forth, checking each of you was perfect… for all the world as if they were your doting parents on the night of the school play. After all this was it, as far as they were concerned. Their big chance to break into high society as owners of the finest brothel in town!

You had your doubts. The Mayor and his daughter had certainly embroiled themselves in the family business… but you still got the feeling this was all just a game for them. That stringing the funny gap-toothed man and his stepdaughter/lover along was just as entertaining as dragging you and Terry shopping on a leash. Sure, they'd bring along a few of their rich and powerful friends to share in the joke… but when the novelty wore off, would they just move on to some other sport? Of course, such questions were above and beyond your role. You were just a furnishing. A prettied up piece of equipment with a straightforward purpose. Better to just focus on that.

You and Emily had been placed in the entrance hall, with your wrists bound to your ankles. The first two playthings to greet each guest as they arrived. Perhaps that was the easier job, you considered… before everybody really started getting drunk and raucous. Once the blank darkness and silence of your blindfold was applied, time seemed to stretch out infinitely in every direction. You could vaguely feel the vibration of people's footsteps as they wandered past you, the change of air pressure and temperature as the door was opened, but all else was complete mystery.

You did your best to appear inviting. Opening your mouth and lolling your tongue out like a dog begging for scraps. Who knew exactly when the first few partygoers might arrive? Certainly at some point the first phallus was deposited between your lips, but you had no idea if it belonged to a member of high society or just Skeg trying to settle his nerves…

However, that first was soon followed by many more. Each one driving themselves down your gullet without ceremony or apology, punctuated only by the occasional set of female genitalia pressed roughly against your lips instead. You could imagine each couple arriving; the cream of modern society; laughing as they revealed the designer-branded lingerie they had had made specially for this event. Giggling at the ‘naughtiness’ of attending a soiree in a brothel, while determined to show off how suavely casual they were with their own sexuality. They would see you as nothing more than a prop, you were sure. To roughly utilise while spying on their rival’s outfits and demeanour: ‘Oh, are you blushing at the sight of my husband slamming himself into this trussed-up, little femboy Martha? You really must relax darling… it was all the rage in Rome and Ancient Greece…’

You could see or hear nothing of this, of course. But you knew the types of people surrounding you by their touch and the smell of their expensive perfume. You had been raised in this very household, surrounded by them after all. It made you wonder how Emily was getting on, struggling through the same baptism of flesh and fluids somewhere near you. Again and again were your questing lips and tongue met with the freshly-showered intimacies of one stranger or another. Through the complete void of darkness you found cocks and labia uncountable, all determined for your attention. One by one you pleasured them to completion, swallowing down your rewards or feeling them splash across your face and bosom.

Until clearly enough of a queue had built up and **** consumed, that they pitched you forwards and started making use of your rear entrance as well. Back and forwards, back and forwards you were pitched… unable to control your own balance or really even tell where you’d been dragged across the room. Soft, uncalloused hands sent stinging slaps across the cheeks of both your ass and face. Manicured nails pinched at your nipples or tugged on your shrivelled testicles. As their drunken confidence grew they only became rougher and rougher in their attentions, caring little for the human being trapped within their silicon-wrapped toy. Penis after penis **** its way into your bowels, pumping furiously until it could leave its own addition to the pool already deposited in there. As each one pulled free, you could feel your body trying to release that gathering fountain… but the next was already in place and thrusting, using the slime of its forebears as lubrication.

Time and time again, your own body shuddered with the build up of its own pleasures. Overwhelmed, but ecstatic at this treatment. You had learned well by now… that there seemed no real limit to how much punishment your traitorous frame actually craved, despite how unhealthy that might be in the long-run. You felt your own tiny cock spurt out onto the floor and your own inner thighs, at least once for every two or three invaders that used you. Yet never would you deny the next one their due. Pushing yourself up on sweaty, trembling limbs to seek that which fulfilled your existence. Fuck me, Fuck me, Fuck me! Yelled your brain, devoid and incapable of any deeper considerations right now.

Perhaps your squeaking voice called it out aloud as well… You couldn’t hear to tell.