2 comments/ 16494 views/ 1 favorites The Joys of Pain By: DrWhoInLove Susanne sat on a bench in the Bois de Boulogne by the upper lake. Her boyfriend, Jean, held her hand. They had just returned from the bushes where they had made love. Her dress was simple: trainers, stockings, no knickers, no jeans, no bra, all topped by a clinging t-shirt with a deep v-cut in front allowing the viewer a pleasant view of the pink right breast with a brown eye peaking out. Susanne topped it with a white band to hold back her long auburn hair, with a black handbag slung over her bare shoulder. Her jeans were neatly piled next to her. Her naked pussy was stroked by the cold breeze. Strings of semen mixed with dribbles of frothing cum ran along her thigh and dripped onto the bench seat. The sweet cold breeze cooled the heat between her naked thighs. Jean's cock was laying on her thigh, and his trousers were still open after they had staggered to the park bench. Cum dribbled from his cock, adding to the pool collecting in front of Susanne's crack. They were spent. Their pleasure was destined to increase. They had been watched by angry eyes as they had fucked in the bushes. A woman strode out in front of them. It was dark and the street lamps in this part of the forest were shielded by branches and leaves. The Lac du Bois de Boulogne is a well known site for trysts, but for more of a mercantile nature. This was Paris. It was April and the 33rd Paris Marathon was to be held on the 5th. Jean was to run in the race for a children's' charity. Susanne had come with Jean from Bath in the UK to help him relax before the race. She had gone a little too far in releasing Jean's tensions. The woman wore a black cape buttoned at the top. Her high heels clicked on the pavement. Her short blond hair was topped by a black beret. She stopped directly in front of the bench and swept her eyes across the languid scene of post-coital depression. She stared directly at Susanne's pussy and then to her shoulders all exposed to the cold winds of April. Susanne watched as the woman stopped and allowed her cape to sweep open. She was naked. Susanne felt herself become aroused by the sight of the shaved pussy peaking from the dark folds. She stared and raised her head to look directly at the woman. "You like what you see?" the woman said in crisp English. There was a touch of a Russian accent in her voice. Susanne felt herself get warm. She felt her wetness increase. The woman pulled a riding crop from under her cape and lifted it towards Susanne. Susanne flinched but the woman laid it gently on her thigh and slid it through her crack, picking up gobs of cum. She raised it to her lips and sucked the tip. She replaced it between Susanne's legs and stroked it gently through the dribbling white cum. Susanne instinctively spread her legs. The crop entered her and slid around. Susanne looked at Jean but he had passed out. She felt good and warm. The cold air only made her arousal greater. The woman smiled. "You like?" "Oh, yes!" She absently pulled on her breasts and started rolling and pinching her nipples. I did like this. Here I was sitting on a park bench out in a park in the center of Paris and I was being molested, not by a man, but by a woman. The woman slowly dragged the crop out of her wet hole and raised it, working it slowly into her own shaved pussy. Susanne was mesmerized. She couldn't keep her eyes off the scene, nor her hands off of her own tits. She wanted to lick the pussy, to clean the crop. The woman opened her cape further, leaving the crop dragging from her cunt. Susanne fell to her knees in the mud. The woman smiled knowingly. "Place your lips on my pussy. You want to, don't you?" I could not resist. I felt the crop on my tongue and licked down the shaft until I found the delicious hole. My tongue forced its way alongside the crop and slid along the vestibule finding the clit mounted and ready. I was becoming very wet myself and my fingers began a frantic musical rhythm on my sex. My breath came in shorter and shorter gasps. I buried myself in the glorious odors steaming from the shaved pussy. The woman pulled the crop out of her hole and held it out for Susanne to clean. She swallowed the tip and allowed her tongue to slither all over it, all the while inhaling the perfect scent of a woman. Susanne jostled about trying to get a better grip on the crop, while her hands were busy on her need. So doing, she accidentally nudged Jean. Jean startled and shifted himself. The crop cracked down on his shoulders. "Sit!" ordered the woman with a dark glare. In pain, Jean stumbled onto the bench, holding his sore shoulder. "Do not speak!" To emphasis, she held her crop out menacingly. Susanne was demurely kneeling and had tried to resume her pleasurable licking of the aromatic pussy. "Stop!" The woman ordered Susanne to get back. Pointing at Jean with her crop, she waved him over to her. "Kneel!" she ordered. As Jean got up and started toward her she hooked the back of his leg with her crop so that he collapsed onto the muddy grass. Jean was frantically looking at Susanne wondering what relation the two women had that they had been so intimate with each other. The crop slashed against his cheek turning his face toward the woman. "Don't look where you are not told to look! Come to me. Do you like?" She raised her cape and Jean was treated to a delectable view of a bald wet pussy. He forgot the burning pain. She spread her legs and stroked her hand along the cunt lips, then moved her fingers to her mouth to suck. Susanne could see Jean getting hard, as his cock was hanging out of his unbuttoned trousers, and rising by the second. Jean started to look over his shoulder at Susanne, but thought the better of it. Another slash across his back forced his head up. "Eat! I give you this pleasure." Jean was hungry and his cock was twitching. He moved his head close to the mound and drew his tongue across and then into the crack, sucking on the labia. His face disappeared between her legs. Susanne was getting worried and excited at the same time. Just down from a passionate sexual high she was seeing her lover sucking the delicious pussy of another woman, a pussy she wanted to lick and taste for herself. Susanne felt herself getting weak at the knees. She couldn't take her eyes off the scene unfolding as Jean slurped his way through the wet swamp. Suddenly she pulled herself away from Jean's mouth and indicated to Susanne. Susanne by now was already desiring more and scrambled close. The crop guided her head to the shaved pussy, already wet with saliva and white froth issuing from the hole. Susanne felt herself become soaked as her face was covered with the wetness that gushed forth. Her own pussy was in need, however, and the woman indicated to Jean with her crop. "You! Come! Kneel behind the slut!" Jean did as he was told. The woman used her crop to point to Susanne's hole. "Use her pussy." Jean needed no urging. He grabbed Susanne's hips and pulled himself into her. The crack of the crop across his arms stopped him and Susanne lurched. "Did I tell you to touch her?" Jean's hands dropped back, but his cock remained engaged. He started ramming Susanne, slowly at first but then picking up the tempo as Susanne bucked back onto the pleasurable member. Two men appeared from the dark behind the bench and seized his shoulders. Jean could not turn to see what they were doing. His hands were clasped in manacles behind him. Susanne emitted a pitched screech as her wrists were bound. Gags were roughly tied over both of their mouths. Blindfolds were roughly tied to their heads. The dark woman gestured to the men to follow. They spoke not a word. Stumbling and unable to speak, Jean and Susanne were led into a waiting limousine parked in the darkness at the edge of the lake. They were forced into the back seat and the doors closed. Susanne felt hairy arms about her. They were Jean's, she hoped. It smelt like Jean what with the aroma of pussy from his mouth. After an hour of silence, and much twisting and turning around corners, the limousine came to a stop. The door opened and harsh hands grabbed them and forced them to walk. After what seemed like a climb up innumerable numbers of steps, Susanne heard a door open. Short gruff words were exchanged, but otherwise all was silent. She could understand some French but it had been awhile. She felt herself being shoved into a space, and tripped over a bed. She felt Jean pushed against her side. The manacles were released and pulled up and attached to what must be a hook. There she stood on tiptoe hanging from above. She felt, rather smelled, Jean's body nudging hers rhythmically. Jean, too, must be suspended. Rough hands ripped her clothes from her body. Tearing noises filled the room. A shirt fell over her feet. Something large was pushed next to her and her bare feet were inserted. It was some form of metal bath or pan. It was too dark to tell. She heard a creaking of chains as she felt Jean's feet brush next to hers. A torch shone a beam into her face momentarily. She could not remove the blindfold to see more. A guttural voice tinged with a Russian accent spoke in French to order them not to struggle else they would be punished. They were not to speak or the punishment would be severe. They hung there in the dark as the door slammed shut and a heavy bolt slid into place. The minutes stretched into an hour. Susanne tried to speak but the gag was too deep. Her tongue could not move. All she could manage was sub vocal mumblings in her throat. Jean manged a peep or two. There was no communication possible. Susanne drifted into sleep but was awakened as the shackles chaffed her wrists when she sagged. She was not to sleep. Hours passed. Susanne lost count of time. A need was building in her bladder and then her rectum over the past hour. She could not hold back and a stream of urine sprayed down making a splashing noise in the metal container. She felt Jean react as he groaned and started spraying as well. It shot all over her back and up into her hair. He must have a hard on! The air was filled with the acrid smell of piss. She felt the urine running down her legs. The straining was becoming futile and she had to let go. An enormous wet turd slithered down her leg, followed by a sudden blast of heavy wet shit that splattered everything behind her and dribbled into the pan below. The stench was overpowering. She felt embarrassed that Jean must have been covered with it and was breathing in her gases. Hours passed and groans were coming from Jean at intervals. He, too, was in need. Susanne felt her face go red. They had never been in the bathroom together when the other was relieving themselves on the loo. Now it was Susanne's turn to be splattered as an enormous jet of wet diarrhea hit her belly and ran down her crotch and along her legs. She shook them to force the clinging mess into the pan. She could feel Jean's shame in the darkness. As she sifted Susanne felt the shit squishing through her toes and over her feet. The smell was overwhelming. The itching of the dribbling excrement as it made its way down her body was irritating. But she could do nothing to stop it. Mumbling apologies were heard from Jean's throat. Susanne tried to sound apologetic but it was difficult to express. She tried to lift her legs to nudge Jean but only succeeded in smearing shit on his legs. It was all Susanne could do to hold onto the shackles and keep the blood flowing. Every one in a while Susanne would feel herself nod off and then awaken suddenly as the pain in her wrists mounted and the smell reasserted itself. So the time went by, hour by hour. Susanne had no idea of how long they had been shackled. Without sleep as a guide, without sunlight, there was no way to gauge the passage of time. Thankfully they had not eaten a meal before they went to the Bois de Boulogne, thought Susanne. But she was chagrined when pressure built up once more. She had spoken too soon. A stream of piss shot out of her, followed almost simultaneously by another load of shit that emptied itself along her body and probably along Jean's as well. So they continued for what seemed like days until they could shit no more, nor piss another drop. The pan was truly full as Susanne could not find a dry spot to stand on. She felt hunger but the urge would go away when the smell hit her nostrils. Flakes of dried shit would drop off her legs when she shifted her weight. It was like a covering of mud. Susanne felt Jean's legs moving once in a while. Her eyes felt heavy. How long have they been here? Susanne began dreaming, then awakening. It was all a nightmare. Finally she could resist no more and despite the pain fell into a deep sleep. Susanne felt rather than heard the sharp swishing noise before she felt a burn on her thighs. She bit into her gag as the burning pain flowed along her leg. She unclenched her eyes and found she could see. The hood had been removed. The shackles were locked onto a padlocked chain over a hook. The walls were covered with mirrors. There was a candelabra with two candles glowing in the corner. She could see herself smeared in shit. Jean hung listlessly next to her. He was hooded. The woman that had stopped in front of them in the Bois de Boulogne strode into the room. She ripped Jean's hood off, waking him. She wore the same cape fastened about her neck. A riding crop with a covering of woven leather was clasped in her right hand. As she turned Susanne saw that her robe covered a naked body. There were glimpses of objects under the robe. So far there had been no voices. Then the woman spoke. "You will address me as 'Mistress'. You will have the pleasure you crave only when I allow it and only through me." The commands were expressed sternly. "But you must not speak unless I so order! These are the rules. Do not look upon me, do not utter a word without my bidding, do as you are ordered. If not you will feel the urgent passion of my lash." Susanne and Jean looked at each other. What had they got into? The smell of the shit over their bodies seemed the least of their worries. Susanne felt terror grip her throat, a throat which became dry and raspy as she breathed hard. The pain on her thigh was still tingling. Men entered the room. They wore masks. Mistress ordered the men. "Bind these dirty sluts onto the floor." Susanne saw loops of iron set in the concrete floor. Her shackles were locked into the loops. A bar was strapped with leather straps to her thighs, forcing her cunt and asshole open. Her bottom was thrust in the air. Jean was roughly torn from the ceiling hook and thrown on the ground. His knees started bleeding. His arms were pulled to the side and attached with chains to the walls of stone. Mistress stood looking at her tableau. "You are my sluts now. You will play for me." She lashed her crop across Jean's ass. He flinched and gurgled into his gag. I could see everything reflected in the mirrors. Stinking with piss and shit we must have presented a dire looking sight. "First you will be flogged." With that the men pulled out thick lashes and handed them to Mistress. She swept her arm hard and swept it over my ass. A scream tried to escape my gagged mouth. The woman ripped off my gag. "Your screams are not for you, slut. They are for my pleasure. I delight in your screams. They praise my magnificence." In quick succession Mistress started flogging. The screams erupted instinctively and deafened me. The woman laid more than a dozen welts across my ass and thighs in measured time. My screams knew no stop. I could feel myself getting aroused by the lashing on my ass. The heat was reminding me of Jean's hot cock erupting into my asshole. In my delirium, my lack of sleep, I fantasized Jean slamming into my ass with each crack, with each pierce of searing pain. I moaned. Mistress drew back, grabbed the cane, and gave me a rapid series of savage blows across my back, down my ass, and along my legs. "No speaking, no moaning, no cumming!" Blood ran down my ass and across my crack. I couldn't help myself and arched in a spray of cum that splattered from my cunt across Jean's legs and onto the woman's feet. She was livid. "Tie her onto the ceiling hook. Beat her soundly until I order you to stop!" I was dragged off to the ceiling hook and attached, hanging down into the pan of shit. The two men took turns with whips. The first blow felt pleasant after the woman's ministrations. Then the painful throbbing along my back intensified and traveled down to my ass, then down my thighs. My screams poured out of me. I could not stop. They proceeded to work their way up again. I was a continual rictus of noise as I spurted sound like cum into the air. Vaguely I heard lashings as the woman concentrated on Jean. I could barely see with the tears streaming from my eyes. But I could hear his terrible howls as the lash traveled along his body. The woman left the room. The lights went out. We were hanging from ceiling hooks again. The hours passed. The pain did not. I passed out. After what seemed days I came to and found myself once again the object of attention of two men with flogs. The beatings continued. I noticed out of my tear strained eyes that Jean was screaming with abandon as two more men began whipping him with crops. My own screams melted into Jean's howls. I passed out again. I did not know how many days, or weeks, had passed. The time was one mass of hurt. It was a series of scenes from a nightmare. I would awaken, be flogged until I passed out, and the sequence continue, and continue, and continue until I felt that my whole life had been spent in the room which was now my whole world. I barely noticed Jean. My pain was all I saw. Death would be a pleasurable release. I could no longer think so concentrated was my mind on the agony scorching my flesh. I was in a state of trance as the beatings continued. Croaking sobs arched out of my throat. Jean's howls turned into raspy grunts with each stroke. The searing aches were indescribably solid. They formed a cocoon over my body. Mixed with the piss and shit the open wounds were sore. As blow after blow rained on me in quick succession I felt myself becoming separate from my body. I must have passed out again. My mind was filled with nightmares and horrible shapes dragged at me in the darkness of my dreams. There was Jean in the forest by the upper lake. Jean was holding my hips and thrusting his plunging cock deep into my asshole. Then Jean was replaced by a demon. I started. I tried to run but my legs wouldn't move. The demon bit my ass and started chewing flesh. Savoring the taste the demon grabbed my thighs and ripped into them, gulping down gobs of meat. I came to to find myself hanging from the hook. Blows were still raining down on me. Blood was everywhere. The mirrors were splattered so thoroughly that I couldn't see myself. An excruciating pain covered me and my throat could no longer scream. I was just gaping through a dry raw throat and gasping for air. Suddenly it ended. I was arched in agony. The woman came into the room. She stood directly in front of me. Her cape flowed open, revealing her crop. "You will learn how to make me enjoy your pain. You will wish you could be lashed when you see me. Address me as Mistress! Now! I command you to speak!" The woman lashed my open wounds with her crop. I doubled over in unendurable agony. "Speak! I order you to speak!" "Mistress?" I croak. "Tell me that you enjoyed pleasuring me with your pain! Do not scream. Just tell me you enjoy my pleasure." The woman slammed the crop across my bloody ass. Scorching agony tore through me. I managed to rasp "Mistress, I." I couldn't get my breath back. "You what?" The woman ran the crop as hard as she could across my ribs. Blood splattered over my face blinding me. The Joys of Pain Ch. 02 I spent the night in happy contemplation of all the torment that I would enjoy. My mind raced with the possibilities. I forgot about Jean. I forgot my name. I am a slut. My name is slave Marci. My arms were shackled behind my back and I found it difficult to find a comfortable position on the wooden rack that was my bed. Thankfully the piss could fall through the slats into the drain. I was wracked in pain for want of food. Naked and cold I shivered in the wet darkness. The chains holding my arms up against the wall shook with my pleasure as I dreamed visions of the torment that awaited. And so the week passed. Every night two man cocks would hook me up and flog me. The ritual became so normal that I was shocked one night when it stopped. The next morning was filled with hope. Mistress had sent for me to be bathed. Two man cocks led me from Mistress' cell to the yard. A tin bath was set next to the walls. I could see that we were on the top floor of a building. Yet the walls were so high that I could not see over them, even if I could reach the top. My shackles were removed. The men stood next to the bath watching me. A naked woman entered the yard. She introduced herself as slave Jacqueline. She was short and slim, with delectable short black hair, and sporting enormous welts on her small but wholesome ass. Her tits pushed out from her black leather corset. She wore a black collar with a ring attached. Jacqueline warned me not to touch myself as she started scrubbing the sweat, shit, and cum off from the body that belonged to Mistress. Soap was rubbed all over covering me as her hands went between my legs and pried open my cunt lips. The butt plug was pulled out. Jacqueline washed the plug and placed it on the table next to the bath. Pitchers of water coursed over me. Jacqueline toweled me down. She walked me back through the door into an anteroom. Clothes were hung on display. Jacqueline passed each piece to me in turn. First were the silk stockings, black and reaching to mid thigh. Then a suspender belt that clipped to the stockings. A tiny piece of cloth -- a red skirt -- was clipped around my waist. My pussy stood out black and staring from under the skirt each time the wind lifted it. There were breezes through the open windows and doors. A white blouse was proffered. It barely covered my tits and forced them out and up. A red band was tied in my hair. Black stilettos finished the outfit. A man cock arrived with a platter of meat, potatoes, and vegetables. He arranged them on the table and left. He returned with a bottle of white wine, two glasses, a dinner service and two plates. Jacqueline smiled. "We are allowed to eat now. Sit and enjoy Mistress' charity." I was so hungry that I grabbed a chicken leg from the platter and was started to tear into it with my bare hands. "No! No! Be careful. Eat like this, sensibly, else you will have cramps!" Slave Jacqueline demurely sat and assembled some dinner on the two plates. She passed one to me, then took the other. I was delirious with want of food, but held back, using the knife and fork properly. Between mouthfuls I drank of the wine. It was delicious. After such a long fast the taste and the smell of food was heavenly and so beautiful. In minutes the plate was empty. I was feeling a slight bit tipsy, though. Jacqueline smiled as she downed the last of her wine. I had been so focused on food that we had not even spoken to each other. Jacqueline reached over to hold my hand and pulled me toward herself, kissing me passionately on the lips. "That is a kiss from Mistress to you. She is proud of your strength, your love!" I felt warmth course through me. A blissful feeling of being loved flowed from me. Perhaps it was the wine, but I imagined Jacqueline as an angel sent from on high to commend me for standing fast against the temptations of the flesh. Jacqueline's kiss was lingering on my mind. So lovely a slave as her must give Mistress an enormous amount of pleasure. "Now for your makeup." Jacqueline patted a pale foundation over my face, offsetting my auburn hair. Next she applied a deep red lipstick, outlining my full lips. She penciled in dark edges to the eyelids with mascara. An application of black gel lengthened my eyelashes. The toilet ended with a puff of rouge on each cheek. Jacqueline rubbed it in with her fingers. I peered in the mirror. There was a randy pale slut provocatively looking back at me. I may as well have had "fuck me, now!" written on my forehead! "Now stand up." Jacqueline held my hand and looked me over. She smiled. I grinned as I thought of lustful visions of delight. Slave Jacqueline led me into another room. "Mistress, slave Marci is ready." She stood by with me as Mistress turned around. She had on a black cape, clipped at the top, and wore nothing else under it. A black beret covered her head. Mistress looked at me, gasped, and licked her lips. "Turn around so I can see." I rotated on the spot. "Bend over and touch the ground." I bent over and placed my hands on the ground. "Very good, very flexible, and the ass hole is larger I see." With that, Mistress clapped sharply once, and slave Jacqueline backed out of the room with her eyes downcast. "Remember that. Never look at Mistress until you are asked. Do not turn your back on Mistress, else you will feel the passion of my lash." Mistress reached for a red leather leash and a studded brown collar laid out on the table. Mistress clasped the collar about my neck. She attached the gold clip to my collar. "Now you are mine to train. You will please many men today." Mistress reached for another object on the table. It was another butt plug. It was even larger than the last. Mistress ordered me to bend over and spit on the plug. I did. She screwed it hard into my ass and I felt a satisfying plop as it found ts place. The pain was temporary and replaced by the feeling of fullness. Mistress lead me out of the room. I could only wonder what torment Mistress had in mind. I could not ask as it was not allowed. I was blindfolded and led down some hallway and out into the air. Hands led me into an automobile. I could smell the leather. It clung to my ass as I shifted into the seat. We pulled out at high speed and I could hear the grit on the roadway. After what seemed an hour of silence we slowed to a crawl and turned right. The blindfold was pulled off. It was Mistress. "Lift your skirt," Mistress commanded. We were driving slowly along a busy road. I could see people walking by and looking at us. Some women were covering their mouths, others were simply staring wide eyed. Men couldn't keep their eyes off me. We were in the center of Paris nearing the Gare du Nord. Each glance embarrassed me. I felt naked and exposed. "I allow you to touch yourself" I obeyed and ran my hands through my bush. "Remember, your pussy is mine. You are touching my cunt. Give me pleasure." I felt grateful to please Mistress. I continued to wantonly rub myself and inserted two fingers into my dripping cunt. The pressure from the butt increased the sensations. I began heaving onto my hand, fucking myself. The heat that flowed through me was devastating. My mind went numb. I could care less who saw me. Mistress shouted, "stop! Take your hands off my cunt." She lashed my thighs twice for good measure. It felt so good! People were staring as we stopped directly in front of the overhang at the Gare du Nord. It was dark, it was busy, it was quite crowded. Driver opened the door and Mistress stepped out onto the pavement. I did as I was indicated to do and slid over to the door, my skirt lifted up by the motion, my pussy bare for all to see. My face went red, but Mistress lifted her whip. It felt so rude to expose myself to strangers. I stood up in the stiff breeze trying to keep the skirt down, but Mistress lashed my arms. The dim light saved most of my modesty but I feared that someone would see and recognize me. Mistress led me by my lead to a spot under the street lamp, ordering me to rub my breasts and pinch the nipples. Some men stopped to watch the spectacle of a busty woman tied to a leash prancing about and pleasuring herself. My pussy was wet thinking that so many men were desiring her. My pussy was clearly in view to any with eyes to see. But it was Mistress' pussy, not mine. I needed more punishment. "Bend over" Mistress commanded. I reached for the ground. Mistress pushed me forward and I fell on my hands and knees in the lamplight, ripping my silk stockings. Mistress pulled a leather strap out of her cape pocket and bound my arms so tightly behind me my wrists started bleeding. My ass stuck in the air, exposed. Mistress pulled on the lug on the butt hole and ripped it out. Agony shot through me. The pain was obscene, but not as severe as my lack of dignity especially as dozens of men were gathered to watch the pale faced slut made up with dark red lipstick. "Now you will please me!" Mistress turned to the crowd, and in French shouted. "Are you men or are you bum boys? Do you not see this slut here? She craves your cocks. She wants you to fuck her!" After a few hesitant moments, and with lustful encouragement from Mistress, slave Marci felt hands on her ass, on her tits, in her hair as men came to her. Some had their cock out and were giving their member some attention, stroking up and down. I could only hope that I would please Mistress. I felt a sudden shock as a cock rammed into my bottom, and slid down to my cunt hole. Another fumbled with my mouth, managing to fit his monster in. That was followed by another who found my asshole. The three of them started rocking into me at a steady pace. Mistress held me in place by my collar. Mistress proceeded to lash my bottom until my skirt fell off. She undid my blouse to let it hang like a rag about my waist. My tits spilled out into the cold breeze. I could feel the men quicken their pace as their excitement increased. They worked at Mistress' pleasure ardently and efficiently. I felt myself warm to the beating of the cocks in and out of my holes, knowing what pleasure Mistress must be feeling watching me being used. The racing of my pulse increased greatly with each series of strokes. I could think of nothing but the cocks that were ravishing my holes. Cum started oozing out of my cunt, covering the cock that zealously ploughed into her. Mistress used her fingers to scoop some up and smeared it over the cock that poked my ass. Mistress grabbed the cock with both hands and stroked it several times, then pushed it back into its home. It was all I could do to breathe as the cock struck deep into my throat threatening to make me retch. Keeping control of the men, Mistress gaged their satisfaction carefully. When the man fucking my mouth was about to cum, Mistress pulled him out and stroked him, pointing him at my head. He squirted a series of massive ropes of stringy white semen all over my face. My hair was matted and it ran down my back. She quickly found another willing cock and stuffed it into my mouth herself. Mistress was so considerate. I craved cock. The man in my butt was beyond hope. He almost fell over as he arched his back and shot a bucket load up my asshole. Mistress quickly grabbed his member and pointed it over my ass. She milked him dry as he shot stream after stream over my ass. Pools of cum gobbed over my sides and splashed into the gutter. He was immediately replaced with another. My cunt was beyond stopping. I looked at Mistress with a begging look. The streams of cum had excited me no end and I craved release. My bucking became automatic as I lost control. Mistress nodded her assent. I gasped as a series of violent orgasms racked my pussy. My cum spurted from my cunt, there was so much of it in such a tiny space occupied by a piston of muscle. That was too much for the man and he could not stop and spurted deep into me before Mistress could rip his cock out of my grasping, biting tunnel. His last remaining spurts splattered all over my back and through my hair. By now the sequencing of the launches of cum was well ordered and direct. Man after man took places around me, masturbating and fucking in turn. Some could not wait and came all over me and onto the men bent at their arduous task to feed Mistress' pleasure slave. I lost count of the number of men that came, just glad that I was at last allowed to let this body, Mistress' slave, cum all over the cocks she provided for her pleasure. The crowd started thinning out as the bells of Notre Dame indicated that it was now three in the morning. I felt totally used. The cum felt heavy on me. Mistress kept clearing the cum from my eyes onto her fingers, then licking them off herself. The last ten men were served. I craved more cock. I was sure that I could have more. The ground was slippery with cum and I found it hard to remain in position. Cum was dropping in great dollops from my shoulders. Mistress ordered me to rise. Shakily I managed to straighten up but slipped in a deep pool stuffed with gobs of cum and fell with a splash into the mess. My arms were bound and useless. My blouse was plastered to my waist, my tits were hanging in the cum pools. Mistress took off my arm restraints. My skirt was somewhere under the lake of cum. I found it, pulled it out, and handed it to Mistress who simply held it over my head and, with both hands, twisted it, rinsing it out, letting enormous slops of white strings drape over my head and down my body. Mistress repeatedly soaked the skirt, then wrung it out over my head. I greedily licked some of the semen as it passed my eager open mouth. Mistress opened her cape and seductively slid the cold, cum-soaked skirt over her pussy, moaned, and then, with trembling hands, managed to clasp it around her waist. Her eyes bored into mine with a ferocious sensuality as she slowly licked her fingers one by one. Still seated in what was left of the pool I felt the sensual wetness of the juices that had soaked every hole of this body, Mistress' body, and I was glad that Mistress had had her pleasure. It covered all of my bottom and as I pushed down into it with my hands to rise, it pulled like glue leaving such heavy films of stringy semen on my silk stockings that I had difficulty standing up. The slippery cum and semen stroked down my slit making me gasp with desire. My ass felt stuffed with the gooey strings. My cunt was so tightly packed that each movement spat gobs out of my pussy. She was so full and heavy that it felt as if I was pregnant. Mistress pulled me by my lead and walked me along the Rue Dunkerque, leaving the pools of pleasure glistening in the lamplight in the gutter in front of the Gare du Nord. We reached the entrance of the Grand Hotel Magenta. Mistress lead me through the glass door into the foyer by my lead, cum dripping from my bare ass and feet. I felt my soaked blouse hang wetly from my waist like a belt, and could not see it for all the wetness that was sliding over it and down my magnificent hips and ass. My tits were cold and covered with films of cum that slid down from my heavy head, saturated with semen. That was all I had on: cum. My stockings and blouse, my garter belt, were hidden under the delightful sensual strings of lust. Mistress marched me past the concierge, bent over his white computer screen, who took one look and then another, then looked away as Mistress glared at him. Men, seated in the lounge, were staring agog at the luscious sight of my Mistress' slut being led through the lobby covered in the ropey cum that pleased her. It dribbled off my feet onto the white terracotta stone tiles of the foyer, leaving proof of my depravity for all to see. It make me feel disgusting and crude, but it warmed me to the core knowing that Mistress was enjoying the sight of her slut being dragged in from the gutters of Paris. We passed the dining area, which at this time of the morning was, unfortunately, empty. I felt heat pulse from my pussy as I imagined the proper diners pause and stare, perhaps with lust, at the fallen angel slithering to her passionate fate stuffed with semen, and dripping cum onto their feet. Mistress rushed me into the elevator and punched the floor number. In a minute we were at the door of her suite. Hands shaking with excitement, Mistress led me inside, stripped off her cape, and threw me onto the dark red carpet. The only light came though the windows. Lustfully Mistress proceeded to lick the dollops off of me, feeding some to me time to time from her mouth as she kissed me. She sucked my hair and swept the cum out with her fingers and lips. Mistress lay her body on me and rolled herself over her slut, ravishing herself with the wetness that stuck to my flesh. Then Mistress' tongue started exploring her slut, and worked its way from toe to head. Mistress flipped me over, pushing my tits into the rough soaked carpet, and started on my ass, poking her tongue and fingers deep into my hole, sucking and drawing the cum out. Mistress commanded me to lay on my back on the bed. Mistress lay herself on top of me, her bald pussy shoved against my mouth as Mistress sucked and licked out the gobs of cum that were stuffed in my full cunt. Mistress' cunt began fucking my mouth. I resisted the powerful urge to lick. Mistress pressed on my swollen abdomen as her mouth was pressed over my cunt hole. In a delirium of tremors, Mistress gobbled on the jets of semen and cum that shot over her face, wetting her fully. I felt so good to please Mistress so. My need was rising fast with all the attention that my abused hole was receiving. The pleasurable feeling of the jets of stringy white cum streaming though my tunnel reminded me of the countless cocks that had been impaling me. There was so much cum that was flushed out by Mistress it formed a wet pool under my burning ass, feeling delightfully wicked, and causing me to become wet once more. I felt the pressure increase as another orgasm lingered, continually threatening to ripple through me, driving sanity out of my mind. Mistress could do anything she wanted to me. But I wanted it. I needed to cum! Mistress ordered me to pleasure her and I started licking and sucking on her delicious cunt, taking her labia in my cum stained hands, as her vestibule was swept by my tongue. Drops of Mistress' cum started stirring and dripping off her lips. That delightful honey was nectar to my tongue. The aroma was exciting. It was Mistress' turn to have the pleasure that she gave to me, her slave Marci, returned to her. "Thank you Mistress," I murmured. My tongue lingered in her gripping velvety tunnel then pulled out to swirl around her hooded clitoris. I felt her clench as her spasms increased in strength. I eagerly fucked her with my tongue. Mistress was cumming. I heard her gasp out permission for her slave to cum. Soon I was lost as her mouth clasped ever deeper onto the folds of her slave's sex and slurped up the mess as cum shot out of me and over her face. Mistress moaned and strained as I groaned and came again and again in a series of thrusts that ended in breathless quivering and shaking. We collapsed in a pile. Shivering tremors traveled down to my toes from my clenching cunt. I felt spasms rip through Mistress as her grip on me tightened with dissipating need. Mistress pulled me, sticky and sated, onto her breasts with her right arm, and pulled the duvet over us with her free hand. Our legs were knitted together in a hopeless bondage of flesh and cum. The heavenly aroma of the scents lulled me to sleep. She sighed with satisfaction as we drifted off clasped in each others arms. I love Mistress. I will do anything for her pleasure. What would daybreak bring?