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Paraded before the Billionaires

Page 4

by Aphrodite Hunt


  Or maybe he’s done it before in front of Mommy.

  The whole thing is sick, sick, sick.

  Max stands behind me, his cock ramrod straight and pointing at my proffered genitals like a purposeful finger. He grabs my horsetail and raises it to the right side in the symbolic gesture of a female animal in heat flagging.

  Then he impales me with his hard cock – still cruelly strapped with the black bands with their silver rivets. I gasp as the studded tool slides into my pussy. I can feel the cold metal circlets grazing my tender vaginal flesh.

  My bells jangle and clink against one another, as do Max’s. We are a shimmering symphony of tinkles and heat. Max penetrates me to the very end – until his head impinges against my cervix. I can feel my juices start to secrete, lubricating his studs.

  “Ohhhhh,” I say, shutting my eyelids to savor his turgid flesh inside me.

  I am being doubly penetrated. Only a thin membrane separates Max’s splendid cock from the dildo in my asshole. The two rods rub against one another through my flattened sliver of flesh, bathed in my viscous fluids – the animate and the inanimate.

  It’s surreal, and sublime, and out-of-this-world bliss.

  Max begins to move within my pussy. His rocking is frenetic and harsh. The blunt rivets grate against my vaginal walls – rubbing, massaging, stroking, coring. I moan and make strange noises in my throat. Behind me is the slick slap-slap-slap sound of his balls slamming against me. It’s a sexy sound that sends my mind spiraling towards a vortex of ever increasing desire.

  Oh fuck me, Max!

  Fuck me!

  Fuck me!

  Interspersed with:

  Oh shit. His mother is watching this.

  And I’m carried away again by the fuck-fuck-fuck force of his hips and delicious cock slamming deep inside me, ‘Mommy’ issues be damned.

  Max’s grunts sound behind me as droplets of his hot sweat fall onto my buttocks. He whams his schlong into me just as his father did before him, and after him, and the faces of both him and his father altercate in a mad succession inside my head.

  Oh oh oh!

  Those rivets. His mother’s beaming face. Those gimlet hard little beads of metal! The memory of his father’s cock in my ass.

  I’m scarcely aware of the ringmaster moving behind Max. It is only when I hear the sharp k-r-a-a-a-c-k of his whip against flesh that I jump.

  “Aaah!” Max cries.

  “Faster,” the ringmaster commands.

  K-r-a-a-c-k!

  Panting, Max increases his humping. The bells clang in protest.

  K-r-a-a-a-c-k!

  My heart writhes for Max and the pain he must feel from the bullwhip. I can discern the ringmaster behind Max, bearing down on Max’s back with his twirling whip arm.

  So Max is a stallion that must be beaten as he fucks me, his filly. His moaning, writhing little filly – so clearly in heat.

  What must Max’s mother think?

  I don’t know why, but my thoughts keep coming back to her – this unknown woman who has given birth to the man I love. Oh, I know what Russell thinks. (At least, I believe I do.) But a mother must surely feel more for her son, whom she has carried in her womb for nine months, and whom she has suckled at her breast.

  What must she be experiencing as she sees and hears the whip licking the sweet muscled flesh of her son’s back? Does she cringe as I do and whimper? Does she mentally sense every excruciating blow as if she is the one that is being whipped?

  Or does she enjoy the whole thing immensely, as Russell obviously does?

  My contemplation of her twisted maternal instincts dissipate as my charioteer steps up onto the stage. I had not seen him in the hall, but here he is now. He’s a tow-headed youth with a cruel mouth. No doubt he has been a bully in high school.

  He moves in front of me. He has something in his outstretched hand.

  It is a cube of sugar.

  He holds it out to my mouth contemptuously.

  “Here you go,” he says as I take the cube between my teeth. “Good girl.” He strokes my head.

  Max doesn’t stop fucking me, just as the ringmaster doesn’t stop whipping him.

  I crunch the sugar and swallow the crystals, feeling a rush of sweetness go into my head. The charioteer offers me another cube, which I eagerly take into my mouth as well. And all this time he is patting my head and rubbing my ears, as if I’m a real filly.

  “Good girl,” he keeps crooning. “Good girl.”

  The friction in my pussy escalates, and I can feel the stirrings of an orgasm.

  I kiss the charioteer’s palm that brushes against my lips even as my body is jolted back and forth with the fury of Max’s pounding.

  K-r-a-a-a-c-k!

  I hear Max’s shriek and bleed inwardly for him. My mind is a whirlwind of pleasure and distress and pleasure and pain, and oh, I think I’m going mad for the confusion of it all.

  I sense rather than see the carrot that the charioteer holds out to me. It’s an orange blur, and as he presses it against my lips, I can taste its coldness (straight from the refrigerator) and its sweet vegetable tang.

  “Suck at this,” he says hoarsely. “Suck at it as if it’s my dick. Don’t bite any of it off or there’ll be hell to pay.”

  I take the carrot, thick end first, into my mouth. I like carrots – whichever end goes in first and whichever of my holes they go into.

  I suck at it with all my might, with all the strength I have left in my buccal muscles. I have to will myself not to crunch down upon its texture, tempting as though it may be.

  I suck and suck until my eyes almost implode, and my orgasm crests in a wave from my groin . . . which sweeps up my belly to my shaking tits. And my entire body is shuddering, and tinkling, and trembling, and screaming, and I don’t know where the bells merge into my flesh and where I have become horsemeat.

  And oh, oh, oh!!!

  With a cry, Max releases his cum into me. Like his father’s, it’s copious and tidal and wet and sticky and never-ending. The satisfaction once again washes over me in a tsunami. And my own sticky sweet carroty sugary orgasm goes on and on and on – rendering me into undulations of ecstasy and nirvana and everything good in this world and more.

  And we are blissful and spent and panting and still locked to one another, and the carrot is still in my mouth (unbitten), and I’m still being triply penetrated. And my senses are swarming back, oh-so-slowly, and I’m suddenly aware again that I have an audience.

  As does Max.

  Max pulls out of me, suddenly embarrassed. I don’t blame him. It’s humiliating enough to have your mother in the audience at this school play you don’t want her to see.

  Not to mention we’re not even over the crest of the hill.

  There’s

  TALENTIME

  DISPLAY

  AUCTION

  all yet to come.

  Oh shit.

  WORKS BY APHRODITE HUNT

  The ‘Initiation’ series

  Open Your Legs for Me

  Blindfolded and Spread-eagled

  Thighs Wide Apart

  Teacher, Please Spread my Pussy

  The Final Initiation

  The Initiation: A Bundle of 5 Stories

  The ‘Initiation 2’ series

  Open Your Legs for my Family

  Bend Over for my Family

  Publicly Display Yourself for Me

  Sex Slave at Sea

  Paraded before the Billionaires

  ‘The Royal Captive’ series

  Prince Miro’s Capture

  Prince Miro’s Submission

  Prince Miro’s Enslavement

  Prince Miro’s Punishment

  Prince Miro’s Escape

  Prince Miro’s Final Confrontation

  The Royal Captive: Vol 1 to 3

  The Royal Captive: Vol 4 to 6

  The ‘Naughty Nymphomaniac’ series

  I was a Naughty Nymphomaniac

  Officer, Please Spread
and Cuff Me

  Gang Banged by the Chain Gang

  The ‘Delicate Piercings’ series

  Her First Clit Ring

  Her First Clit Ring 2: Menage

  The ‘Undercover’ series

  Undercover: Exposing the Bad Doctor

  Undercover: Stealing from the Sexy CEO

  Hot, Wet and Steamy (individual stories)

  When He’s Inside You

  My Stepson is a Naughty Stripper

  The Gorgeous Naked Man in my Storm Shelter (Erotic Suspense)

  Trapped with Sex-Starved Aliens

  Dear reader, as this list is not always comprehensive due to more stories being churned out after this point in publishing, please visit http://aphroditehunt.blogspot.com/ for more stories and updates

 

 

 


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