Around us, an audience was already gathering. I darted a glance at them, trying not to feel defensive or embarrassed. They were cultured, well-dressed men, confident and powerful, many with half-hard cocks jutting from their opened pants. Their slaves or subs knelt at their feet, appreciating the break my ass was about to give them.
Devin positioned me in front of a padded trestle that was about waist high, and cuffed my ankles to the structure at either end, so my legs were spread wide. I teetered on my high heels and obeyed his command to bend over the trestle—slowly—so my pussy would be on display. My nipples had tightened into peaks, and my pussy had gone humiliatingly wet at the exposure. Did everyone know it? Could everyone see?
Devin walked to a row of cabinets on the opposite wall and opened one that presumably belonged to him. I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see all the things he had stored in there. I moaned when he returned with a thick, black butt plug. Ugh, another metal one, cold and unforgiving. He turned it in front of my face and showed me the jeweled base. “Isn’t it pretty?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir,” I said with a quiver in my voice.
“Everyone who takes a turn on your ass can enjoy the view.”
Oh God, I was already dying of horniness, and the scene hadn’t even started yet. I bit my lip as he lubed my ass, and held hard to the trestle to try to maintain some sense of control. The plug probed at my tight hole, and when I squirmed, he placed a hand at the small of my back to settle me. The ache of intrusion eventually relaxed as he persisted, working the plug in and out until he drove it home.
I was in subspace already, plugged and bound, and surrounded by Dom/sub couples who were either scening, or milling behind me to be part of my scene. At Via Sofferenza, when my friend Giorgio had invited other men to molest me, I’d been blindfolded, but now I could see everything and everyone, and I didn’t have anywhere to hide.
Devin appeared in front of me with his cock exposed, and lifted my head by the hair. I cringed at the pain as arousal bloomed higher, throbbing between my legs. “Open your mouth,” he said. I whimpered and obeyed, and just as he thrust between my lips, I felt the crack of a strap across my ass.
Ow, ow, shit…
I jerked at the hot pain and resisted the impulse to turn my head. My attention had to be on Devin. His cock was in my mouth and his hands held my hair, and I’d been given a task, even if…
Owww. Another blow stung my ass cheeks. I squeezed on the plug, thick and hard inside me, and tried to focus on serving Devin, but the strapping continued. Five blows. Six. Seven. Eight. It was so hard not to reach behind to protect myself. I held tight to the wooden beam of the trestle and sucked my Dom’s cock until the strapping ended.
I had a mere ten seconds of respite before Devin greeted another friend. This time, it was the unmistakable flick of a cane that bit my exposed ass. My cry was muffled by Devin’s cock. I prayed that the mystery sadist behind me would lose interest quickly, because canes hurt so badly. Perhaps if I was perfectly still, and didn’t twitch my butt back and forth, making it an irresistible target…
But I didn’t have that kind of control. I bucked my hips and tried to evade the hot, agonizing strokes, but the cuffs around my ankles kept me from moving. I was sobbing so hard by the fifth stroke that I had to spit Devin’s cock out of my mouth to take a breath. “I can’t,” I said. “Please…”
“You can. This doesn’t end until I say it ends, so concentrate and suck my dick.”
Oh shit. Oh holy shit. Would I be spanked by an endless line of Doms until I made him come? It was really hard to give quality blowjobs when you were dying of pain. Another cane stroke, and I almost reached back.
“Don’t you dare,” he scolded, shoving especially deep. “Put those hands on your tits so I can see them. Squeeze your nipples.”
I did, and that was when the first tear rolled down my cheek. It was partly from the blowjob, from his steady, unrelenting thrusts into my throat, but it was from the powerlessness too, and the fear that I wouldn’t be able to endure what he wanted.
“Squeeze your nipples harder,” he said. “So it hurts.”
I was paddled next, with a thin, stinging type of implement. Maybe it was a wooden spoon. Now that my hands had something to do, it was easier not to reach back, but my nipples were paying the price. Whoever was paddling me stopped every few licks and prodded at the butt plug, pushing it deeper and taunting that I ought to have my ass fucked when my spankings were over.
I strained to look up at Devin, both comforted by his presence, and scared of him. Something in his expression turned tender, just for a moment.
“You’re crying real tears,” he said. “Your makeup’s a mess.”
I could feel the tears pooling against the frames of my glasses, and yes, my eyeliner and mascara was probably smeared all to hell. The paddler stopped and another strap took over, then a horrible spanking tool that felt like leather crossed with a cane. I wailed against Devin’s cock as each new Dom spanked me, crying and crying, squeezing my nipples until they went numb. I doubted ten minutes had passed, but it felt like four hours. My ass felt seared. It was so hot and achy I could hardly tense my butt cheeks without causing more pain.
Devin’s grip on my hair relaxed. I looked up at him in entreaty—please, am I pleasing you? He patted my cheek and moved away, and another cock was in my face. “Open your mouth,” Devin ordered, when I closed my lips in surprise.
I opened, studying the other Dom. He had hard, dark eyes and a lithe body shape. He pulled my hair as Devin had, but he twisted it so it hurt even worse. Where Devin’s style was casually capricious, this Dom was abrupt, all business. He fisted his sheathed cock and pushed it into my mouth.
Any submissive brought into The Gallery shall be considered communal property. This was what that meant. I choked and squeezed my eyes shut as the dark-eyed man drove in to the hilt, deep in my throat. When I gagged, he pulled away, and I peered up at him, in both apology and entreaty. Please, please…
My ass hurt, but it was bearable, and my throat, already raw from Devin’s pounding, could take more abuse. I was so far in subspace that I wanted him to gag me over and over, which he did, five or six times in a row, until tears streamed down my face.
“Look at the poor thing,” the man said. “She’s a mess.”
“She needs an ass-fucking, Milo.”
Milo. That was the name of the man tormenting me with such pleasure. “Hey, look at me,” he said, tilting up my head with a hand on my throat. “Do you need your Dom’s cock up your ass?”
I stared at him. His hair was longer than most men’s, and dark as his eyes. “Yes, Sir,” I gasped through my sore throat.
“What? Say it louder, so he can hear
you.”
“Yes, Sir.” I winced as the plug was removed from my squeezing hole. The man in front of me, Milo, slapped my cheek to regain my attention.
“Listen to me, girl. Look at me. Do you deserve a hard cock up the ass? You haven’t made either of us come yet.”
I strained to hold eye contact with him through my blurred, tear-stained lenses. “Y-yes, Sir. I’m sorry.”
Milo laughed as Devin prodded his cock against my hole. Was it Devin? I couldn’t even turn to be sure, because Milo had grasped my head again and shoved himself into my throat. I moaned against his shaft as a thick cock pierced me from behind, easing into me at first, then shoving deep. Yes, definitely Devin. I whined and cried, processing the pain that wasn’t really pain, and the pleasure that wasn’t really pleasure, but more of a frantic, feral craving to let go.
Let go. Let go now. Let them have you.
I groaned as Devin shoved against my ass. I was sure it was him. I knew how his cock felt in my ass, how he liked to fuck in a steady, pounding rhythm that asserted his ownership. His hips slapped against my sore ass, fanning the lingering flames of my spankings. I understood now why this place didn’t have safe words—because this was too intense, too real. Even if I had a safe word, I couldn’t have dredged it up from the recesses of my animal arousal.
Instead I clung to my nipples, because I hadn’t been told yet that I was allowed to let go. I opened my mouth and throat for Milo’s pleasure, even though I didn’t know him, and he wasn’t my Dominant. I spread my legs as wide as my bonds would allow to let Devin enjoy my ass, and my tears gradually dried enough to see the admiring approval of spectators in my peripheral vision.
I let go, and came into myself as I most loved to be—vulnerable, helpless, and in pain. Naughty little maso. I wasn’t sure if Devin said it, or if it was an echo of memory, but it was true and it was wonderful.