P02E10

I don’t think it was ever meant to be a fair fight. She was rigged from the start, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she already knew that. I was actually amazed at how long she managed to hold out at all. It must have been two and a half hours before we enjoyed our fourth course, a risotto with mushrooms, when she came to her harrowing climax. There had been a constant stream of dishes applied to her, and she had been subjected to a wide variety of thrusting modes. She had fought her orgasm for a long time, but she finally lost the battle.

There was no way she could have denied having it. All her limbs and body and head jolted wildly, and the only reason she didn’t end up between our food was the solid quality of her bondage.

And she howled. I had never heard a woman howl before, singing out her deepest torment to the skies. It encompassed the delight, the wonderful joy of falling across the edge into the starry night of oblivious rapture. And it also encompassed the disappointment, the despair, the ultimate realization of falling short.

It didn’t matter that she was rigged, it only mattered that she failed her man in a task he had given her, one which she had trained for for so long. Her resilience had become her pride, and she had been confident that she could restrain herself if her Master demanded it, no matter what they threw at her. Yet now, when it really mattered, when she was presented and put to the test under the eyes of his peers, her defenses were shattered. The dive down into orgasm was the biggest humiliation of all, the ultimate proof that she was just an unfit whore who couldn’t even obey her husband.

The dinner bevy wasn’t very helpful in soothing her feelings. A plethora of voices cheered her, mocked her, shamed her, derided her, condemned her.

Sam exclaimed: “ I am looking forward to dessert! “, and Pete offered: “Back to the drawing board, Ben! “

Ben displayed a small smile, then said: “It appears her training is still insufficient. We will deal with that later. Yes, Sam, you will have your dessert menu later. First she must be rehornified though.”

The man cheered again, looking down on the ravished girl in their midst, still heavily panting with an anxious look on her face.

“You damn right there, Ben! It is so much better to whip them when they’re also edging. Let me buy some gear for her to make it so!”

He consulted the menu, and made his pick: “Here, this one looks good. The studded one, at $150. I like to see some rawness on her! “

We all watched one of the waitresses change the dildo to a mean looking monster, whose surface was nothing but irregularities, then drove it into her pussy, the machine behind it lurking silent for now.

Sam gestured to his friends: “Doesn’t that look like a vicious sword, gentleman? Who is going to buy some thrusts for it? “

“Yes, we need to focus her back on the subject ASAP,“ Eric said, and he consulted the menu. “Just a quick, rough banging, I think. I’ll buy her 30 medium deep ones at 3 Hz. Make her pussy pay attention again.”

Payment was done, and the quick interlude was implemented: thirty deep thrusts in just ten seconds. It worked marvelously. The looks on her face still showed the horror and fear she had exhibited before, but some new moanings and a lascivious glance of half her eyes were added to the colorful palette of her face once more.

“That looks so much better,“ I said.

“Doesn’t it, “ Pete said. “We get her edging again soon enough. But first, a little simmering, don’t you think?“

There was confirmative nodding. A grey-bearded man at the other end of the table bought her ten minutes at 700 milliHertz. As she started stomaching that, table conversation resumed, and the food also received some well-deserved attention. Uninhibited comments on her looks intermingled with philosophical discussion on the nature of slavery, intermingled with tips and tricks on how to manage the desires of a slut wife. There was laughter and drinking and enjoying the raptured girl in our midst. Several of the men took blowjobs from the waitresses under the table, but apart from Eric, none of them seemed to have an inclination to shoot anytime soon; the girls were just returned into circulation after a few minutes, leaving the cocks hard and ready.

There was no dip in the men’s appetite, and more dishes for her were ordered in rapid succession.

She was led back to her launching platform in less than 20 minutes, then kept dangling on that edge for over an hour more. But she made it this time, and managed to avoid a ruinous second orgasm.

The main course was served, and when the men had just about finished, the whipping menu was distributed. It ranged all the way from intriguing and frivolous to horrifying and ****. The machine wasn’t removed from her, she was just bound in a lily to the floor of the rotating platform, the machine still drilling her from behind, but also leaving plenty of room for the violation of her buttocks with the variety of crops, paddles, whips, floggers and canes which were advertised on the menu.

I think she was granted leniency there. Her performance for the whole evening had been exemplary, and I don’t think the men could seriously convict and punish her for the crime of cumming for them in her extravert and dramatic way.

But, of course, her illegal orgasm wasn’t waived off completely either. For over half an hour, a fine variety of lashes and strokes battered her ass. She howled and lamented, but it didn’t do much about the rain of thwacks descending on her quickly-coloring ass cheeks. Her pain was very real and very obscenely displayed, right before us. Yet the dildoes in her pussy and asshole were also speaking, as the men kept buying more dishes for the machine. Unmistakably, they were still keeping her on that platform, right at the edge. Her legs were tied away so wide, that her clit was still available to a small riding crop, despite the banging rods of the machine right next to it. She was obviously in agony, but at least part of that agony was in battling against failing her husband for the second time on the same night. She was trying to fight off orgasm while the whips were weakening her defenses, eating away her resilience, meddling with the fight she fought, until she almost lost it. She struggled ferociously against drifting into another orgasm under the yoke of the whip, holding on to her last straws, and it was a magnificent sight to see.

There was a sincere round of applause when Ben finally announced that her ordeal was over. She was untied and helped up to a wobbly constitution. She lowered her eyes and blushed to the compliments.

Ben put and arm around her, comforting her, then said: “You have done well, my dear girl. You really deserve a reward now. I grant you permission. “

And with those words, he placed a mere fingertip at her clit.

It was enough for her. After the long hours of hornification, now that the authoritative consent of her beloved husband was given, that mere finger tip was enough to send her spinning down the abyss within seconds. She would have toppled over if Ben hadn’t held her tight. We all watched in appraisal as her expression changed to the half tormented, half raptured face of a cumming girl.

The party concluded there. Ben led Lara into a back room, and the men got up to leave. The waitresses were waiting at the door when we exited, and each of them whispered “Thank you, Sir” when the leaving men decided to show their appreciation for their service by a groping of tits, asses, or pussies.