Under the Visard

The first dress Lindsey had made all by herself hadn't been real. It'd been made out of real cloth, with real stitches but hadn't felt real. Clothing was bought from stores, her body told her; ergo, when she'd stepped onto the street that sunny day she wasn't wearing proper clothing. It was as if she'd wrapped herself in a towel or plastic bags or some other woefully lacking material. The sensation had been addictive.

And here she was actually naked this time, her skin buzzed with twice the intensity. She wore only a mask, a velvet oval form fitted to cover her face and held in place by a firm tab between her teeth. It was a visard she'd made herself, specifically to preserve her identity in the coming party. None of her sewing projects had ever failed, yet that didn't stop the thought constantly burrowing through her mind that her singular covering would somehow fall apart.

In their small antichamber, She didn't allow herself to fidget that would just make her more nervous. Occasionally, her subconscious overwhelmed her and she scratched her thigh. Jason caught one such slip. Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome gently held her hand. "You don't have to go out there," he reminded her. "Or you could put on some clothes and enjoy the party like everyone else."

Lindsey shook her head "no." She couldn't back down. The dark desire, digging into her like fish hooks wouldn't let her.

"I made you something," he said softly. "Not as nice as the stuff you make, but I hope you'll wear it." Before her mask's eye-slits he presented a collar of braided leather. Had he known she would braid her hair tonight? The leather was a dark chestnut to match her eyes, flecked with subtle stitching. It was hers, a thing of beauty made solely for her body. Eagerly, nervously, she rubbed her thighs together, then bent her head forward so it could sheath her neck.

The collar's caress gave her a certain comfort as Jason opened the door. The sounds and sights of the crowded room slammed into Lindsey like the heat of a yawning furnace. Men and women, young and old filled the lively hall, many in skimpy roleplay costumes or fetish attire, some wore only lingerie, but she was the only one naked. On the far side of the large room there was a woman in a latex cat outfit that left her firm breasts totally bare. But Lindsey was the only one naked! It made her skin feel all kinds of tingly.

No, this wasn't an orgy, an erotic party sure, but the long lounge had an air of class to its lush furniture and tasteful decoration. The walls were lined with curtained alcoves so that the event's naughtiest activities could be tucked away. The obvious exception was Lindsey, the naked slut. She clenched her teeth tight on the tab that held her mask and squeezed Jason's hand for moral support as she took a shaky step forward. One by one eyes turned towards her. Conversations were cut short or trailed off as the party goers noticed their naked guest. Lindsey got snippets of the new conversations; whispered words, "beautiful," "sexy," "whore," drifted to her, sending pins dancing across her naked skin.

Jason led her deeper into the room. Initially the other guests stepped back. but soon they drew closer until she was cocooned by the crowd. With so many eyes on her, Lindsey felt like she was under a microscope she swiveled her head, darting her eyes about to keep track of the innumerable faces through the narrow slits of her mask. Then somebody asked it, "may I pet your bitch?"

"Just be gentle," responded Jason with a laugh, "we don't want to spook her."

The mass of people pressed forward, their touches tender but numerous. Curious fingers stroked her hair and trailed down her bare arms. The touch of their garments was a potent reminder of her nudity as the fondlers moved closer to dance their digits over her belly and toy with her breasts. More hands petted her back, some gentling stroking down to pay homage to her naked bum with groping and spanking. Hungrily, the other guests pressed closer, squeezing and pinching her soft flesh. Her nipples quickly hardened under their overwhelming ****. Two fingers worked their way between her legs, exploring until they were between her folds. They sought out her clit, making her gasp through her teeth as they found this treasure of nerves. Lindsey felt the dampness blossom between her legs and heard the soft wet sounds even through the numerous breaths and shifting sounds of her surrounding tormentors.

Lindsey let out a weak whimper, keeping her teeth tight around the tab of her visard. The fingers probed deeper interested in the tenderest parts of that most intimate place on her body. Likewise the other hands toyed with her body more instantly: slapping her tights, tickling her tummy, and playing particularly viciously with her tits. Someone actually decided to roughly twist her nipple, sending a surge of pain and pleasure up Lindsey's spine. She let out something between a yelp and startled hiss, holding Jason's hand even tighter.

"Alright everybody," bellowed a man's voice, "give our new plaything some space." The crowd parted to reveal a silver fox keeping everybody organized. "I think she'll make a great parrot. Should we lead her to her perch?"

The mob parted, created a path to a thin horizontal bar between two posts. Those behind her encouraged Lindsey on with gentle shoves or slaps to her ass. Others chanted "parrot perch, parrot perch," like excited sports fans. Nervousness and arousal spun through her core, as she took shaky steps towards her new pedestal. She was worried they'd make her balance atop the thin bar and cluck or sing for their amusement, while she squatted with her legs spread. But their real plans were far more sinister.

Lindsey was led to lay tits up on a table so her knees could hook onto the bar. A pair of strict handcuffs secured her wrists on the far side of her ankles, trapping her legs in place. The table was pulled away, leaving her to dangle from the cold metal pressed into her knee pits. She was **** into a loose ball by having her wrists chained up past her ankles. Lindsey knew this position exposed her naked ass and shaved pussy to the onlookers. Anticipation built within her, and the bound woman spun her head about, trying to guess at what was going on, but unable to see any hint of what would happen to her exposed holes.

The hoard talked amongst themselves, offering lewd suggestions on what to do with their helpless and presented captive, One idea quickly bubbled to the top.

"I think her pussy needs some whipped," was the suggestion. It provoked a unanimous cheer from the crowd and a stone of dread within Lindsey. She really didn't think her vulva could take any amount of attention from a whip. Panic made her writhe and twist. Her handcuffs dug into her wrists as she flailed her hands in an attempt to reach for something, anything.

They found Jason. His hand gripped her in a reassuring manner. His touch was calm and steady, prompting a soothing breeze to dismiss her panic. Lindsey still didn't like the sound of any sort of genital punishment, but if Jason trusted her maybe she could try. She turned her head again, cautiously trying to peer around her suspended body. Still unable to see, she closed her eyes and tried to prepare herself for the pain. The helpless **** clenched her jaw. She wouldn't scream on the first blow; that'd be something she kept in reserve, to relieve some pain half way into her torment.

The guests around her shifted with excitement, a hush consuming them. It wouldn't be long now. Jason squeezed her hand. The whipping was only seconds away. Just don't scream; you can do this. Just don't make a sound after the strike. Lindsey braced herself, curling her hands and feet as tight as she could.

A hiss sliced through the air, sounding not like a whip, but like spray from a can. Something cold and soft impacted her pussy. Lindsey yelped louder than she knew she could. It was whipped cream. They were dollopping whipped cream all over her cooch. She squirmed partly in response to the chilly touch of the sensual substance being spread over such a sensitive area, but mostly because of the tingling anticipation of what would come next. A whipped cream covered pussy only meant one thing.

The first mouth was greedy slurping up the sweet foam and her wetness beneath in under a minute. Her pussy was lathered again, and another tongue dined upon her. This one was more tender, seeming as if it was striving to tickle her most intimate organ. Slowly, gingerly, it again stripped her pussy of cream, baring it for the caress of air. A third time, Lindsey heard the spray of whipped cream and felt it bloom over her tingling pussy. And a third time, another unique tongue cuddled with and doted upon her elated lips, until she was moaning between gasps. Her inverted position was pounding the hot blood of her ecstasy through her brain. Whoever was feasting on her sucked her engorged clit with such intensity, it sent an earthquake of pleasure across her body. Lindsey squealed, almost letting go of her mask, but clamping her mouth down on the tab just in time. The nearly exposed sub squeezed tight onto her only cover as she let out rapid exhilarated breaths, the tongue between her legs continuing to tease her.

Lindsey was close to an orgasm, she felt the need oozing through her loins. As the third tongue withdrew her hips desperately bucked, eager for more attention. "You don't need to bother with that mask," a woman said; she sounded familiar. Was it the barista from the coffee shop near her work? The one with the tongue piercing? "Under there we know you're a slut, an eager, naughty whore, who does any filthy act as long as she's paid in orgasms."

Hot blood raced through Lindsey's veins. She moaned. She couldn't deny her nature. Even if she released her mask to regain control of her mouth, whatever false stammerings she managed to bluster out wouldn't convince the leering onlookers. "Moan for me, whore," commanded the woman as she settled into position by Lindsey's orifice of pleasure.

Lindsey didn't really have a choice in the matter. The skilled, studded tongue between her legs worked a lustful magic making all of her nerves buzz with delight. She moaned and twitched helplessly, her fingers and toes wiggling and splaying as the barista's mouth became more insistent. The other woman started slapping her ass and thigh, while continuing to feast on her nethers.

A particularly intense jolt of pleasure rocked through Lindsey's body, making her yell with ecstasy. She almost let her mask fall, but its tab was caught on her teeth, allowing her to quickly close her mouth. She panted desperately while fantasies of total exposure danced through her already pleasure-addled mind, the expert mouth bringing her all the closer to orgasm. The peril of being unmasked was made all the more enthralling by the galloping approach of her climax. She didn't want her identity exposed to all these strangers (at least she hoped they were strangers), but the risk was so exciting.

"Cum for me, bitch," the other woman affectionately demanded, sensing Lindsey's increasing passion. She slapped the suspended woman's hip all the harder. "Squirt all over my fucking face, you dirty, gorgeous hoe," she commanded again before resuming her demanding dining. As she ravenously devoured the last drops of whipped cream buried within Lindsey's gentle folds, the command became unavoidable. Like the morning sunrise crumpling all shadows beneath it, the orgasm cast long beams of golden bliss throughout Lindsey's body. She screamed out her euphoria, adrift in the warm light of her orgasm. Too late she realized she'd let go of her mask; it started slipping from her face.

Jason caught it at the last instant. Perhaps a few onlookers had caught a glimpse beneath, but he'd saved her from irrevocable exposure. Lindsey quickly clamped her teeth onto the mask's tab but gasped through her half closed mouth, still recovering from her intense climax. Would Jason be there to catch her mask a second time?

Behind the slits of her mask, Lindsey's eyes darted desperately around the numerous guests. The swirling mass of people started to split off. The majority still seemed interested in playing with her, but some gleefully left in twos and threes to the numerous curtained booths. Lindsey doubted she'd be given the same privacy. She hoped that when they fucked her pussy and ass, it'd be in the open an raw. And she would be fucked; those hungry leers left no room for interpretation. The helpless plaything looked past the crowd and to the numerous kinky furnishings that filled this space. Her heart pounded with excitement, she truly had no idea what the rest of her night would be like. Except she mused to herself as the whipped cream was applied to her asshole this time, she knew that she'd have many, many more orgasms.