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"Chastity: The most unnatural of the sexual perversions."
— Aldous Huxley
Standing in front of a mirror to repair my makeup, I have the disoriented look of an athlete who has pushed herself well past her limit. No surprise there. It took ages to form a single thought after that sexual marathon. From now on, I’ll have heart-stopping rapport with soft red lighting, and I’ll never look at a mirror in the same way.
Mind blown.
Brushing out my tangled locks, a memory flashes of the scalp tingling sensation of having my hair used as a handle. Two amazing Doms controlling my movements, their fists wrapped in handfuls of it. Using it as leverage to hold me still, or to push and pull their cocks deeper inside me.
The entire scene was better than anything in my imagination, and my imagination is pretty damned powerful. Objectified, naked, displayed. Watched by admiring spectators while in a ménage with the man I love and André! Who wouldn’t want to be fucked by André?
Being on display intensified everything. Fuelled and fed by the energy from the crowd, I blazed with erotic fire. The experience was so freeing! Being watched, used, and enjoyed? This was what my body was made for!
After our first threesome climax, André’s two subs had entered to take care of housekeeping in the form of warm, wet and dry towels. Then they brought food and drinks.
Max gave me drinks through a straw, then he and André fed me from their own hands, which was entertaining. They teased and told jokes, trying to make the supposedly silent object laugh. All this attention made me feel cared for, appreciated, and very much loved.
For the buffet, the subs supplied a real table, yet my hands and stomach also became useful plate holders.
After Max checked to ensure it was what I wanted, the men on the other side of the mirrors came in to get an up close and personal peek at my attributes while they ate. Lusty strangers in suits, stroking their hard-on’s.
The men looked me up and down appreciatively, staring at my curves. Talking among themselves, they socialized, ate, laughed. They eye-fucked every hole while asking Max questions and getting him to display various body parts. They spoke of what they saw, why they liked it, and what they would like to do to it. It being me.
They discussed me as if admiring a nice car. Like they were lining up to take me out for a test drive. They fought over whether to compare me to a Lamborghini or a Bugatti. My headlights? Quality. Engine: Runs hot. Endurance? Excellent. Acceleration? Zero to sexually desperate in 1.6 seconds.
Question: What do two hot Doms and a bunch of men I’ve never even met have in common?
Answer: They all want to be behind the wheel, playing with the knobs, getting off on a stellar ride. They want to fuck the shit out of the hot car.
Exhibited. Objectified. Used. Talk about embarrassing, crazy hot, and good dirty fun! Holy shit, it had all been amazing!
Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply, remembering how turned on I was by the dirty things they said. “Give it to her! Pound that tight cunt. Shoot your fucking load!" "It loves my big cock deep inside all its holes." “That’s the way, André! Use it! Fuck my horny little toy hard, harder!"
I could easily come again just from remembering their words.
Enslaved to their desires, I’d submitted completely. I did anything. Everything. All while the other men watched. André and Max radiated irresistible male power while they used me in every possible way. But I didn’t feel like just any old object. I felt precious and priceless. Treasured. The ultimate gift.
I was so intoxicated, so wanting and willing and focused on the men that enthralled me. I had André on top, Max underneath and vice versa. I came like a banshee. Like an oncoming train. Like a firehose or a wild animal.
Sometimes Max held me tightly in position so André could fuck me, then André returned the favor. They took me on my knees. On the table. Against one of the mirrored walls, while the sound of cheering roared through the glass.
André, André, André! What a guy!
André draws people like a magnet, putting them at ease, compelling them to want to be near him. I think his charm and confidence come from being comfortable in his own skin. He has nothing to be ashamed of. André knows who he is, and he likes who he is.
I’ve seen the Frenchman mischievous and teasing. I’ve seen him understanding, and kind. But as a Dom he’s demanding, darkly seductive, and dangerous. André is a no nonsense dominant, beyond anything I’d ever imagined he would be. He radiated power, and irresistible quality I’ve always found captivating.
At one point during doggy style, André held my head while he shoved his throbbing cock down my throat. At the same time, Max was hammering away deep into my ass.
Holding my head in place with fistfuls of hair, André demanded I come for him.
Helpless to his will, I immediately exploded. With a heated, heavy-lidded gaze, he intently studied my face throughout my orgasm. Soaring high on my release, my eyes watered, my mouth drooled.
André knew what I wanted. He knew me. In complete control, he steadily continued to fuck my face.
“Oui, oui,” he rasped, “C'est bon. C'est bon. Tu es une très gentille fille.” Yes, yes. It's good. It's good. You are a very good girl.
Staring into my eyes, he finally shot his load, venting a stream of raunchy French. At the same time, Max filled my ass with hot cum while shouting my name. I came as they did, spasming so hard, it felt like a seizure. Fighting not to pass out, I’d feared I’d wake up inside an ambulance on the way to the hospital!
The spectators went wild as they watched that show. I felt as if there was more energy filling my little mirrored room than 100,000 fans in a football stadium.
My ass was chock full of Max’s pulsing dick, while my pussy clenched desperately on empty air. At the same time, my throat was so full of André’s cock and his cum, I could barely breathe, but it didn’t matter. Struggling to swallow, I managed to remain in place until André’s impressive erection began to soften.
It was so dirty, so hot, and so damned intimate! Mastered by two Doms, I gave them everything I had, everything I was.
They had been more than satisfied to take it.
After that, I didn’t even need to climax. Or was I beyond bodily orgasm?
My whole world was one of glorious, never-ending pleasure. Mindless obedience had me floating in a euphoric headspace. It was so, so satisfying. Gratifying. Serving them, being their toy was where I belonged. I wanted to be an object on exhibit forever. Having them use me to get themselves off again and again and again.
Exhibitionist. Slut. Submissive object. Acting out my fantasies was the most liberating feeling I’ve ever had in my life. I realized there was nothing wrong with me. I’m OK. I’m good. The me that is me is who I am, and who I want to be.
I wouldn’t trade this newly discovered feeling of clarity and self-acceptance for anything in the world.
The total helplessness of being an object made me so light-headed and horny I became primal. Animal. A devoted creature of pure sensation. I’m pretty sure there should be a nature documentary made about my journey!
Dressed and now ready for anything, I look in the mirror and grin. Protruding overbite, black glasses, and tight spinster bun. Lovely. The only thing missing is my fat suit and a wart, but that’s not happening. I can’t wait to see the reaction I get when the guys see me.
Picking up my bag, I stride out of the playroom changing area with the kick-ass confidence of Ms. Buckley.
Max sees me first and his smile melts my heart. I swear his big brown eyes go soft and mushy. Like he’s reliving a great memory. Remembering the sassy bitch he fell in love with.
André, being André is overflowing with irrepressible, over-the-top enthusiasm. Like he’s buzzed. Elated. Approving, maybe? Not sure why he’s so happy to see me wearing my ugly outfit.
“Mon Dieu!” My God!” His voice is breathless with amusement, joy, and exhilaration. Taking me by the hand, he bows, pressing his lips to my knuckles. “You are beautiful.”
I give him a disbelieving frown.
“No, it is true! The dark eyeglasses make you look studious and educated. The teeth, they are not so bad. Non! You are...” he snaps his fingers, “what is the word? Ah, cute! Yes, very cute. And the hair bound so tight, what Dom wouldn’t love to free it?”
Max strides over, wrapping his arms around me for a quick hug. “I fell in love with the person you are, not with your body.”
I frown. “What did you say?”
“Wait. That sounded bad!”
I laugh. “Never mind, I know what you mean.” Pressing a soft kiss to his lips, I ask, “What’s the plan? Dinner? Take in a show?”
“I thought we’d go down to the strip to see what’s going on in Vegas tonight.” He slips his arm around my shoulder in a gesture now so familiar it would seem odd not to have him there. “Be spontaneous. You choose. We’ll do whatever you want, birthday girl.”
“I already did that.” My face warms with a blush of sexual heat.
“Hell, yes. We both did.” He gives me a squeeze, glances toward André. “I found I enjoyed having my sexy toy on exhibit... and if André is up for it, we’ll be doing that again.”
André smiles and bows. “Mais, oui.” But of course.
“Woo hoo! All my dreams have come true. You coming with, André?”
“Je suis désole” I'm sorry. “Regrettably, I cannot.”
“No problem. It’s not like you’ve been ignoring me on my special day.” I smirk. “Hey, remember that guy you met in the bar? The one who was sexually inhibited? Did you end up freeing him?”
His eyes glitter with amusement and lust. “But of course!”
“Thought so. Are you still with him?”
“Non. Non.”
“Why not?”
He gives me that classic French shrug. “My work was done.”
“But André, you’ve probably ruined him for any other man!”
“Mais non.” But no. “Not I!”
“You don’t think so?”
“Brett is young and full of passion! When I speak of setting him free, I meant we shall always be friends, oui, oui, but now he will meet oh-so many, many new friends. No longer ashamed of his sexual orientation, he has learned how to receive pleasure, and how to please another. Now that he has accepted himself for who he is, he has gone forth to spread the love. Perhaps also to find someone who is right for him.”
He accepted himself for who he is?
I smile because I know just how Brett feels. Today I was given the freedom to embrace shameful, lifelong desires. After openly reveling my kinky fantasies, not only were they accepted, they were celebrated!
There is nothing wrong with me.
Giving André a peck on the cheek and a quick hug, I tell him, “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Thanks for everything. Truly. There is no one in the world like you, André. You are the absolute best.”
“Yes,” he agrees with a mischievous, boyish grin. “That is true.”
Max and I are still laughing long after he’s gone.
