by Bridy McAvoy
A hand grasped her hands and pulled them back away from the pole and her eyes flew open as Chris expertly fastened a pair of cuffs around her wrists, working so fast she couldn’t get out of the way or resist. The euphoria of the moment died away in an instant but her body was too far gone to stop and her ass continued to grind against the pole.
“You’ll like this, Kayla. You like being unprotected and vulnerable in front of a group of men—being stripped of your clothes by eager hands.”
Given the events over the last couple of sessions it wasn’t something she could deny. A moan burst from her lips as she looked up into Chris’s grinning face above her. Her grind became a pumping movement as she pushed back against the floor to ceiling pole and she pulled her hands against it, but the chain on the cuffs held. He continued to grin down at her and she could feel her orgasm building as he squatted down behind her.
“I think it’s time those tits got some air, don’t you?”
His arms encircled her waist and then his hands slid up to cup her breasts through the thin blouse. As soon as the heat of his hands came into contact with her sensitised nipples she came in a body-numbing rush. She moaned even louder and pushed her breasts into his hands even as her thighs trembled and she felt her own juice trickle out onto the inside of her leg.
His hands moved from her breasts to meet in her cleavage, rapidly undoing one button after another but leaving the tie unmoved. By the time she’d got her breath back he’d managed to undo the whole front of the blouse and pull it to the side exposing her breasts.
“Keep grinding, sweetie…the boys were enjoying that.”
Wordlessly she started to move her hips again, enjoying the feel of the pole against her ass as she moved, enticing the guys closer. They did move closer, too—shuffling on their knees across the none too clean floor toward her, crowding toward the edge of the stage, only a couple of feet away from her, their lenses even closer to her naked pussy peeking out from under the skirt.
Behind her, Chris wasn’t still either. He brought out another pair of cuffs from his pocket and waved them in front of her face as she gasped then, bending down, removed her high heels and clipped them around her ankles so that now her arms and legs were pinioned behind her.
Once more he’d sprung a surprise on her, reducing her from the feeling of being the most powerful person in the room, to being helpless and vulnerable, the weakest person there. In doing so he’d wrung an orgasm from her and the way her body was reacting to it, others would follow. Kayla bit her lip in frustration but opened her mouth to let another moan escape as he callously reached round and tweaked her nipples again.
Kayla looked up at him and saw his hand move to his pocket again, to emerge with a long thin chain. Without speaking to her he clipped one end of the chain to the links between her wrists then bent down. Her eyes widened as he pulled her hands down behind her a bit until the chain could reach her ankles then clipped it there, too. Without thinking about it she tested it and when she moved her hands up her feet left the floor, too. She’d have fallen forward but the pole, trapped between her body and the restraints, kept her upright and she carefully readjusted her position. Her arms weren’t pulled so far she couldn’t move them at all, so a little freedom to move either arms or legs gave her some respite from cramp.
His hand reached one more time to his pocket and emerged with a familiar looking black object. She shook her head, opened her mouth to say no but it was too late as the blindfold settled into place over her eyes. She panted for breath as she considered her predicament—knowing so much of herself was on display and she was helpless to stop them.
“One more thing, sweetie”
His fingers pinched at her cheeks forcing her mouth open, only for it to be filled with a gag, similar to the one he’d used on her before. Her breathing went into overdrive, panting for air as thoughts cascaded haphazardly through her brain.
She shook her head, signalling she wasn’t happy, and wished she’d manage to speak up before, and recognizing there was nothing she could do about it—the die had been firmly cast the moment he’d fastened the cuffs around her wrists. Hands once more reached from behind her to cup her naked breasts. This time, though, Chris—well, she assumed it was Chris, was gentle where he’d been rough before. His chuckle from next to her ear confirmed it was him.
“Enjoying this, sweetie? I thought you might. Although, it’s not quite what you expected is it? Nor do you have the power over us you thought you had a few minutes ago? The problem for you is, however much you shake your head, I can feel your tits pressing against my hands, your nipples trying to dig into my palms. I can feel how your heart is pounding, how your thighs are trembling and how much you want to cum. Well, you’re going to soon…very soon. Now, shuffle your knees apart, sweetie, and I’m going to open up that skirt. Let’s give these guys their money’s worth—an unobstructed view of your cunt!”
Kayla couldn’t explain it; once again, his foul language was exciting her where normally it just disgusted her. She wanted to resist him, but her knees moved apart, anyway, as he let go of her breasts, which mourned the loss of stimulation in their own way, and dropped his hands to her waist, pulling the skirt round, none too gently, then spreading it open to the sides, leaving it fastened with just one button at the waistband.
She tried to picture herself—it was all too easy. Her body, fully displayed, her breasts lewdly separated by the black tie, her pussy on full display between the out-flung wings of the kilt style skirt, kneeling, knees apart with her hands and feet shackled behind her, the dance pole holding her upright as her hips slowly ground in a circle against it.
“Spread your knees a bit wider, please.”
His voice was in front of her and seemed to come from somewhere below the level of her head. As she wondered about Chris’s intentions, her lips felt dry but, with the gag in place, she couldn’t lick the top one. Her chin felt wet and she guessed she was drooling—with the gag holding her mouth open she couldn’t prevent it, particularly with the gag making her saliva glands produce far too much. She swallowed convulsively, only for her mouth to refill with spit once again. She needed to swallow in order to pant for air—she couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen through her mouth.
“Ughh…”
The sound that came out wasn’t what she was trying to say—her voice, strangled against the gag, sounded alien to her, not her own at all.
“Squat back on your heels a little, sweetie, a couple of inches at a time.”
His voice still came from too low down, nearer to the floor and she was suspicious, but her leg muscles were screaming out for relief, straining to keep her upright had taken its toll on her thigh muscles in particular. Kayla allowed her body to sink down. She’d moved maybe three or even four inches—she couldn’t really tell, when a strange contact stopped her in her tracks. Something cold with a rounded end was touching her labia. She froze rigid, a startled gasp erupting from behind the gag which prevented the question she felt desperate to ask.
“Just a little lower…it won’t hurt, Kayla, I promise you.”
If she’d stayed upright she wouldn’t have a problem, her legs could have supported her weight, but now, partially bent, on her way lower, she couldn’t hold the position. Despite her own desire not to, she sank down another half inch. The object—she guessed something metal or plastic, slid in between her outer lips, moving smoothly into the moisture she’d already produced.
Another half inch and it was penetrating her, impaling her as her legs fought to hold herself upright. Kayla had guessed it was another one of Chris’s supply of sex toys but it was bigger by quite a margin than the bullets they’d used on her on the bar. She wasn’t sure if it was a dildo or a vibrator, but it was obvious to her he wanted her to sink all the way down, taking its entire length inside her. Her tormentor chuckled and the sound came from next to her, so Chris was sure it was in place and had stood up.
“Enjoying that, baby? You’ll enjoy it
more if you let yourself go and take it inside you.”
She shook her head and he laughed again.
“Oh, I think you will, especially if I do this…”
She couldn’t see him do anything and he didn’t appear to bend down again but, suddenly, the sex toy turned itself on. She didn’t need to guess now, it was a vibrator and it was working inside her. She grunted and groaned and tried to talk around the gag but nothing intelligible would come out. Her legs couldn’t take the strain, her thigh muscles trembling from the effort and her whole body trying to convulse and obtain release from the building pressure. Chris took hold of her left nipple and squeezed hard, turning it and twisting it as he did so.
Kayla could not stay in that position—she tried to scream around the gag as an orgasm tore through her and her body sank down engulfing the fake cock into her wet vagina. Instead of switching it to a lower setting to allow her to recover, Chris switched the device to full power and the inanimate object buried inside her seemed to take on a life of its own. Chris was crouching by her ear once more.
“Does having that throbbing inside that wet cunt of yours, turn you on, Kayla? Do you like having your nipples twisted while your cunt is full? It’s a pity it’s at full power now—I think you’d enjoy it even more if I could increase the vibrations. What do you think?”
She wanted to shake her head but another orgasm tore through her and she could feel the drool hitting her chest as it dripped off her chin. Chris brought his hand up to her mouth and wiped her chin clear then massaged the liquid into her breast.
She sensed him stand back, sensed one of the others was close, but didn’t know what was happening to her. Someone took hold of the blouse and lifted it further out to the sides and she heard someone else grunt in front of her.
Something wet and sticky sprayed across her chest, in thin strings, and for a moment she wondered what it was. It slowed after two or three strands and, behind the blindfold, her eyes widened in shock. The camera shutters had stopped a little while ago but she hadn’t paid any attention to that fact. The vibrator was still churning away inside her as, after a pause, another set of sticky globs hit her breasts. Another orgasm ripped through her and she was vaguely away of another deposit on her chest, and then another and, finally, a fifth as yet one more climax took away her reason.
The vibrations died away and when she forced her legs to support some weight the toy slipped easily out of her. Someone, she assumed Chris, reached behind her and undid the knot on the blindfold and removed it.
Kayla looked down, both dreading and knowing what she would see. The men had left five loads of their own cum on her and four of them were now merrily recording the after-effects on their cameras. Chris continued to release her, removing the chain holding the two pairs of cuffs together, then the ones around her ankles. Finally, he undid the one holding her arms around the pole. She brought her arms around in front of her and massaged her hands to help the blood flow properly as he undid, and then gently removed, the ball gag from between her lips.
She worked her mouth, licked her lips and swallowed several times, trying to make sure her throat was lubricated. Rising to her feet, she glared at the four photographers who, reading the signs, lowered their cameras and backed away.
“You fucker!”
Chris took a step back, right to the edge of the tiny stage, then stepped down and backed off another couple of feet.
“That’s it…this session is fucking over!”
He held his hands up. “Okay, sweetie, calm down, no harm done. I’ll take you home.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “No harm done! No harm fucking done? You are shitting me!”
“The others scuttled over to their camera bags as far from her as they could get. She glowered at them then turned attention back to her main target.
“You think you can take me home like this?”
She waved her hand in front of her body, the skirt still askew, her blouse hanging open and to the side, their cum dripping off her breasts, soaking into the tie.
“Well, cleaned up a little, perhaps…”
“You think a wet wipe sorts this? You’re a moron. A total fucking moron.”
“Okay…So what then?”
She didn’t want to touch the stuff on her chest but couldn’t leave the bar like this. She glared at him.
“Okay, okay, sweetie. You want me to take you back to the studio so you can have a shower?”
She closed her eyes briefly, trying to calm down, but that was a mistake. Visions of the shower sequence last week played through her mind, the tiny bathroom full to overflowing with men with cameras photographing her naked in the shower. After a moment she nodded.
“Without these clowns, though.”
He held up his hands again. “Get yourself straightened, sweetie, then I’ll take you over to the studio. You can shower and then I’ll take you home. These guys won’t come into the studio. Okay?”
She nodded again.
“Right, day is finished, gents, we’ll reconvene as arranged next week.”
Kayla felt her mouth fall open in shock, then closed it with an effort. “You’re making a big fucking assumption there, Chris, a really fucking big one.”
“We’ll talk, sweetie…we’ll talk, I promise. Let’s get you clean and then get you home.”
The thought of confronting her husband after this brought a sob to Kayla’s lips but she swallowed it, forcing her legs to bear her weight, pulling the skirt straight and refastening it, then ripping off the ruined tie.
Her mind filled with thoughts about Ben’s reaction and about how much of today’s activities she could, or should, keep quiet from her husband. She took the proffered wet wipe from Chris and swabbed at the sticky mess on her chest.
Chapter 12
The guys had all tried to say goodbye and thank you as they’d emerged back into the car park, but Kayla ignored them, climbing onto the minibus and sitting in the front seat near the driver with her back to them as he took the short trip across the car park to park behind the studio.
She’d stayed sitting in stony silence as all four men disembarked then headed over to their own cars after shaking hands with Chris. Kayla watched them pull away before rising to her feet and climbing down from the bus. Chris didn’t attempt to make small talk as he unlocked the back door to the studio and led the way inside. As soon as she reached the bathroom door she turned and stalked inside. There was one thing missing so she turned to face Chris standing in the doorway.
“Towels…and I want something to wear afterwards. I am not letting you drop me off at home dressed like a fucking whore!”
She ignored him as she pulled the three or four buttons undone, she hadn’t bothered to do them all up, and didn’t care if the blouse ripped or not. She wasn’t wearing it again, that was certain. Kayla’s hands went to the waistband of the skirt and flicked the two fasteners of the kilt open letting it fall to the floor.
She used one shoe to lever the other one off her foot, then repeated the performance with her bare foot to remove the second one, before stripping the socks down her legs and leaving them in the middle of the floor. She turned to face the shower and looked back at him, seeing him staring at her now naked ass.
“I said…towels!”
He started and then turned away.
“Fucking moron!”
“What?”
His head came into view in the doorway—he’d obviously heard something but not what she’d said. For a moment she debated repeating it but decided that would make a bad situation worse. There wasn’t any point in closing the door—he had to return with the towels, and hopefully some clothes, too—most of what she’d worn today were ruined one way or another.
“Nothing.”
“Oh…Okay.”
Kayla stepped into the shower and turned the spray on, a higher temperature than she’d been allowed to use last time. She took several deep breaths and tried to think about her predicament now—h
ow much to tell Ben, and how much he’d guess, as well as work out where the trigger point for him was. A movement outside the screen caught her eye and she looked round to see Chris deposit a pile of fluffy towels on the toilet seat, and then approach her, the screen between them. He held up a bottle of body wash and a bottle of shampoo.
“All we’ve got I’m afraid.”
She held out her hand and he passed the bottles to her. She checked, they weren’t her brands but they weren’t crap either—they’d do a passable job.
“The hairdryer and tongs are in the dressing room, and there’s a couple of outfits in there you can choose from—I’ll be in the studio when you’re ready to talk.”
“What makes you think we should talk?”
He just looked at her and, despite her own feelings, knew he was right. After a moment of silent communication she nodded. She wanted to yell and swear at him again but knew it would do no good.
“Thanks.”
* * * *
Fifteen minutes of serious body pampering under the shower and buffing with the fluffy soft towels, followed by a similar amount of time drying and straightening her hair did wonders for her mood. She was still angry at Chris, but the fury had abated as she looked along the line of dresses hanging on the rail in the back of the dressing room. After a few minutes she settled on a bright sunshine yellow dress—it wasn’t too short and the neck was quite high cut, sexy but classy in its way. There weren’t any bras that fitted her so she grabbed a pair of fairly utilitarian lace white ones and made a quick trip back into the bathroom to retrieve the only pair of shoes that fitted her, other than those on the minibus.
Whilst she was inside the dressing room, she’d heard the outside door go a couple of times and guessed Chris had been busy retrieving his equipment and Teri’s makeup kit from the bus and transferring her couple of bags to his car ready to take her home.
Eventually, she decided not to delay any longer—she was going to have to face him at one point. She couldn’t get home without doing so and her mobile was in her bag, which wasn’t within reach so she couldn’t even call Ben to pick her up.
