11 comments/ 218658 views/ 31 favorites Bukkake Dee By: marriedpervs It was a set up. My lovely wife Dee had always stirred me that she wanted to be gang banged. She is 39, almost 40 actually- her birthday being in June 15th. She stands 5'10' tall and is a stunning long-legged blonde with nice perky breasts and the most amazing blue cock sucking eyes I have ever had the pleasure of gazing into. Our sex life was speckled with multi-partner adventures. She loved cock...what can I say? I told her to meet me at the Bouncing Balls pool parlour. We loved to play pool and had our own table. I told her some friends were meeting us there. I told her to dress sexy - short skirt and heels. I knew she would, as she loved to tease other guys and make their wives shitty with her flirting. The name of the pub was a strange coincidence...because before long balls would be bouncing all over my hot wife's chin. Without letting her know, I had booked the back room of the Bouncing Ball. It was famous for wild parties and buck's night celebrations. The owner pretty much turned a blind eye to what went on in there, as it was separated from the rest of the place by two security doors, and as long as he got paid, what the hell. When Dee arrived, she as shown through to the back room by the bouncer, Tony. I'd paid him an extra $50 cash to look after things on the night. For three weeks I'd been organising the men. I didn't want anyone that either Dee or I knew. I'd posted a few ads on the internet and managed to find twenty blokes that met the criteria. Without going into it in too much detail, they had to be young, well muscled and clean of disease. Dee has a thing for muscled guys, and I was insistent that they were proven disease free before letting them loose on the wife! Walking through the door and into the back room, Dee stopped and looked very surprised and shy. She also looked fucking hot. She didn't know a soul, because I was hidden behind the video camera panel next to the DJ area. She was dressed just as I suspected she would be. Black mini, red crop top and boots. She looked horny as! A young guy walked up and offered his hand. Warily, Dee shook it and was lead to the bar. Three other guys joined the group and she was given a drink. Before too long, she was asked for a game of pool, and proceeded to play with most of the guys watching. As she bent over the table, many of the guys started cat calling and whistling. I could see Dee was getting horny, because she was winking and smiling at each of the guys as they watched. She'd had three drinks by this time, and I knew she would be feeling very hot. It doesn't take many to get her fired up. As she bent to play her next shot, the ball was a fair distance up the table. Her short skirt hiked itself up and over her thigh, exposing the cheek of her magnificent tight butt. A young stud on the stool nearby stood up and rubbed her cheek with his hand. Dee did not flinch. She nailed the 7 ball in the corner pocket, before removing his hand and continuing her turn. Her next shot she potted the 3 but the white went in off. The fella she was playing with said, "I tell you what baby, take off your top and I'll forfeit my two shots." Without a comment, my horny hot wife put down her cue, and with a maximum of tease, peeled off the skintight red top she was wearing. Braless and with nipples erect on her 34C breasts, she picked up her cue and waited for him to have his shot. Her next turn she committed the cardinal sin...potted the black. "Damn honey...you lose...looks like I get to choose which item you take off next. I pick your skirt baby! Now get it off.." Dee looked like a slut. She walked over to the cue rack and slowly placed her cue on the rest. She then reached back, facing away from all 20 guys in the room, and slowly, no, SLOWLY unzipped the tiny skirt, before lowering it to her knees. Then she turned to the guys, wearing only tiny thong panties and her skirt round her waist. Her boots were knee high and the skirt was caught on the top of them. "Well, don't just stand their gawking you guys, someone help me get this damn skirt off!." With that, two guys jumped forward and grabbed her skirt, almost tearing it over her boots and removing it completely. There my wife stood, in panties and knee high boots, in a dimly lit poolroom full of 20 horny guys. I was getting very erect in my secret filming spot. The camera was whirring. She kissed the taller guy on the lips, and thrust the head of the shorter guy towards her panty clad cunt. "Lick me and make me wet" she begged. "Not so fast baby" spoke a really big guy from the back of the room. "This is OUR night, and you're the entertainment. YOU'LL do what WE say..got it?" "OOoh, will I really?" answered Dee...not used to playing second fiddle when it comes to directing sexual activities. The guy didn't even give her an answer. Instead, he walked over to where she was standing between the two guys. He ripped her knickers off in one go and then forced her to her knees. She squealed but about six other guys moved in and positioned her on the floor. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, and a strange leather and chain device was placed around her neck, fixing her head at about a 30 degree angle upwards. I had seen this apparatus many times in the Japanese bukkake film, and in fact it was me who had given it to Tom, the big guy. I told him he was to place it in Dee before the bukkake fun started. As soon as the apparatus was in place, the guys moved as they had been instructed. Each one removed their clothes and started to play with their cocks. They were in a circle around Dee who was forced to suck a cock every time it was placed in front of her face. A huge champagne glass was placed on a coffee table so it sat just below her chin, and a short guy approached her and stuffed his cock into her mouth. He gripped her head by the hair and said, "Suck me you bukkake bitch." With that, I noticed Dee's eyes almost pop out of her head. She must have realised what was happening, and I know she was excited by it. My own cock was about to burst. The first guy took about two minutes of Dee's excellent oral skills before he started to cum. He sprayed her gorgeous face and most of his cum dripped of her cheeks, chin and tongue but was caught in the glass. Without blinking, another cock pushed past her lips and made its way down her throat, before he too pumped sperm all over the face and eyes this time. Again the champagne glass caught most of the excess, although Dee managed this time to swallow a couple of spurts. The third guy was ready to cum without even being sucked my my wife, and simply stood back and pointed. He was amazing. He didn't even touch his cock, and yet spurt after spurt landed on Dee's lips and tongue. He almost half filled the glass!! I reckon he was the equal of Peter North, the famous porn star whose cum shots are legendary. Dee has masturbated hundreds of times watching him dump his load in the mouth and on the face of his many porn actress partners. For about 45 minutes Dee continued to be blasted with hot sticky cum on her pretty face. She was wild and performed amazingly. She screamed out that she needed to cum - and so a short guy stood behind her and finger fucked her pussy while another jumped on the floor and licked her cunt. She didn't last long. She came like a thunderbolt and almost spilled the large glass full of cum that was placed in front of her face! Luckily Tom managed to scoop it out of the way just as she spasmed on the tongue and fingers of the two guys working her over. At this point Tom went to Dee and released her head from the apparatus. Rubbing her neck, he kissed her and fingered her now very wet cunt. She had seen enough bukkake movies to know what was expected of her. She walked to the edge of the table, and leant backwards, her stunning but cum soaked curves on show for all to see. She raised the glass above her head and then fed the contents of the glass into her mouth. The massive glass of man juice filled her mouth instantly and she gulped down as much as she could. She drank the sperm of the twenty guys until she could drink no more, spilling the rest down her face and onto her tits. She then opened her mouth to show she had swallowed it all, before rubbing her beautiful body with all the sticky goo that had spilt onto her boobs. She glistened in the spotlight over the pool table and looked amazing. I came in my hand right at that moment and switched off the video camera. Back home later that night, Dee soaked in a long hot shower, before joining me in bed. Without a word she went down on me until I was hard - which was about ten seconds! Her live action video was showing on our bedroom TV, and she turned around to face the screen to watch herself get bukkaked! She slammed her sopping cunt down onto my cock and then rode me for the next fifty minutes, stopping to tease me whenever she felt I was about to cum. When the moment of the movie came where she swallowed the massive glass of semen, she climaxed on my cock and pumped me till I unloaded my cum deep inside her pussy. She thrashed and thrashed on me, almost crushing my cock inside her strong cunt walls. She collapsed on my legs and my cock popped out of her incredibly warm hole. I covered her gently with the doona and kissed her. It had been a wonderful night for us both. Bukkake Diaries 2: Depraved Mercy It had been a week since my first bukkake had left me cum-covered and aware of what I slut I had always been. I swooned for more. Elise had dropped me at home the next day with a closet-full of new clothes and another plain white business card listing an address and date. I taped the card to my bedroom mirror and spent the week horny and dysfunctional. I counted down the days in agony. Throughout the week I tried on different outfits that Elise had bought me: elegantly professional but revealing skirt ensembles; a couple of slutty school girl options; designer jeans and tops for clubbing; over-the-top stripper heels with fence-net thigh highs and impractically strappy bras and thongs; and even a sexy ultra short lab-coat style dress. I was still getting used to my new-found sluttiness and loved playing with different looks. Every so often I'd catch myself in the mirror and get turned on just like I would watching the porn stars I had always admired. Even though I had skipped a couple classes that week, I still didn't make it through all my new clothes. I also spent a lot more time masturbating than usual--like a lot more. It got out of control. Each night I'd ride my plug-in vibrator until I couldn't take it anymore and fell asleep. I don't remember sleeping through the night at all that week, though. I dreamt of my first bukkake experience but the images blended with my favorite porn scenes. I'd see myself from the third person, layered with jizz and stuffed with throbbing cocks in all my holes. I would recurringly see my pussy gaping wide and oozing what seemed like impossible amounts of cum, gushing onto the bed beneath me. I'd wake up sweating and writhing under the sheets, usually with a few fingers buried deep inside my soaking pussy. Eventually, I'd fall back asleep. But by morning, I'd be just as much in need and end up buzzing my clit for half an hour. Then, I'd finger myself some more in the shower. Then, I'd rub myself through damp jeans while driving to classes. Then, I'd hide in bathroom stalls furiously pounding my cunt with my fingers or whatever else I had in my purse that might work. I started wearing more skirts and carrying a pocket vibrator with me at all times. The card was always on my mind. I had looked up the address on the internet. The location again was in a rough and nearly empty part of the city. It was an old high school building that I learned had been abandoned for decades when the adjacent neighborhood had been demolished to make way for a freeway and industrial complex. Elise's clients apparently got hot by that sort of setting as much as I did. Despite having found all this out, I quickly realized that the card didn't give a time. I wondered if Elise had just forgotten, but then thought perhaps this omission had some purpose--a test of some kind, or a way to give me choice and make me complicit in what would happen to me. The date on the card finally arrived and fell mid-week on a day when I had a heavy schedule of classes. I figured I would go at night since I figured everyone involved would have some sort of life, too. I missed half my first lecture, though, masturbating in the shower and freaking out about what to wear to class. When I got to class, I clumsily stumbled into an empty row of seats in the back of the auditorium. The professor kept lecturing, but gave me a dirty look over the heads of my classmates. My next class went no better. I made it in time despite a detour to a bathroom stall. Midway through class, however, I could not calm down enough to focus. I continued to become more aroused and crossed my legs firmly when I realized my snatch had soaked through my panties and had started to run down my thighs. I felt a little twinge of regret for having worn a mesh thong and pleated skirt at that moment, especially when I was called on to discuss the reading. I babbled like a moron before the grad student instructor mercifully let me off the hook. I decided I was in no shape to make it through the day after that, so I went home to change and get on with whatever was going to happen. After realizing that the address was a school building, I took the hint and picked out an outfit. The naughty school-girl look was an obvious choice. I pulled on a clean black mesh thong, a plaid pleated skirt that hung exactly at the bottom fold of my ass, and a pair of over-the knee-high socks. I tied off a white blouse underneath my tits, just tight enough to give me some cleavage, but loose enough that I was almost popping out. I went without a bra. I wore my lipstick bright red and let my straight brown hair fall in loose tresses around my shoulders. Once I was ready, I pulled on a pair of vintage round-toed black patent leather 5" heels and a long coat before stepping out the door. After the last time, I knew I couldn't safely drive myself there and back, so I called a cab. The cabbie was in his mid-thirties with a salt and pepper beard. He was surprisingly fit for someone who drove all day. He eyed my legs through the window as I approached the car with an appreciative look in his eyes. When I told him where I was going, he raised an eyebrow and asked, "you sure, hon?" Impatiently I replied, "yeah, yeah, don't worry about it. I know where I'm going," even though this was only partly true. I made a mental note to figure out something more discrete than a cab for next time. The weather was clear and sunny, so he left the windows down. The breeze seemed to find its way right under my coat and up my skirt as I sat in the back seat. The slightly cool air blowing against my already swollen pussy didn't help me concentrate on the route. Luckily, the cabbie knew where he was going and took the freeway. We got there quickly and without any hassle. I left him with a big tip, mostly because I've never been able to do multiplication with a sopping pussy. As I got out of the car, he asked again, this time a little more concerned, if this was really where I wanted to go. "Oh sure," I replied, "it's for an... art project. I'll be fine." He shrugged and drove off, leaving me to wonder why I felt it necessary to allay his concern. When he drove away I could feel the emptiness in that part of the city. A few derelict store fronts lined the street, but the only human presence were naked sun-faded mannequins haunting the broken shop windows. I was surprised no one had taken them. At first glance, the school building looked in no better shape. But as I walked towards the front door I noticed not a single broken window. The windows actually looked well-maintained. I also noticed several that were painted black from the inside. I tried to open the front doors but they were firmly locked. I saw a door buzzer on the jamb, though, and pressed it. A few nervous minutes passed while I scanned the street behind me, wondering whether I was safe. Then, a voice came over the intercom. "Hey there," said a female voice, "I recognize you! I wondered when you'd show up." I looked around for a camera and sure enough saw a black half-orb on the wall above the door. I looked at my cell phone, which showed 3:30 p.m., and spoke back, "um... yeah. So I think this is where Elise wanted me to show up. Can I come in?" "Oh, of course this is where you're supposed to be! Let me buzz you in, Jane. Wait for me in the foyer." I still couldn't place the voice. I stepped into the foyer and saw that I'd need to wait since there was a second heavy institutional steel door, which was locked. The glass and chicken-wire window in the door was blacked-out like the windows I had seen outside. I waited anxiously until the door cracked open and through it stepped the red-haired shop girl, but it took me a moment to recognize her. She had seen me debase myself in the porn shop the week before, even cheered me on. The last time I saw her, she dressed casually, in nothing that really stood out in my memory. This time, I couldn't forget what she wore. She looked like a 19th century brothel madame who could double as a vaudeville emcee, but still modern. She looked steampunk. A sumptuous burgundy velvet corset with black piping exaggerated her curves, pushing her tits, which were similar to mine in size, up to her collar bone. Garters extended from the bottom of the corset over a matching thong to hold up a pair of black fishnet thigh-highs that extended only a few inches from the tops of 6" heeled black leather boots. She wore her make-up dark, with heavy black eye shadow, deep crimson-black lipstick, and almost white foundation on top of her already pale skin. Her red hair gathered underneath a black velvet top-hat. She winked when she saw me and I nearly melted to the floor. "Hey there," she chatted flirtatiously, "I think we can do without that coat, can't we?" I dropped the coat to the floor. "That's better... My, my, don't you look almost innocent," she cooed sweetly, "but we both know that's just a front, don't we?" She winked again. I stood speechlessly, once again soaking between my legs. I felt goosebumps on my bare ass and upper thighs above my socks. I tried to process the entire set-up, wondering who exactly were Elise's clients. The whole situation started to feel elaborate beyond my understanding. While I stood there, frozen, the shop girl circled behind me and lifted my skirt with a riding crop she had been hiding behind her back. She stroked the leather of the crop against my bare ass, tracing it over my curves, between my ass cheeks, over my thong, and between my dampening inner thighs. Then she patted it sharply against my swollen and soaking pussy, pressing on the mesh of my thong which bit into my most sensitive skin. I gasped slightly, but tried to maintain my composure. The shop girl pulled the riding crop from between my legs and licked it like a lollypop. "...that's just what I had thought," she said in a breathy voice while she licked. I was paralyzed with lust. "Follow me, cunt. It's time to get you set up," she said, with a strictness that startled me given her seemingly bubbly personality. She lead me through the door. The other side of the door was a darkened institutional hallway, lit with red paper lanterns rather than the usual florescent box lights. The building had once housed a large urban public high school, but now it felt huge and cavernously empty. Through some of the windowed-doors I could see chaotically abandoned classrooms with overturned desks, cracked chalkboards, and a thick layer of dust. Other doors had blackened windows, however, which accounted for at least half the rooms in the building. As we walked, passing blacked-out window after blacked-out window, a chill ran down my spine. I knew I would end up in one of those rooms. We wound our way through the labyrinthine halls towards the center of the building where I learned that I was right. Two red paper lanterns glowed next to a double door with blackened windows. The shop girl opened them and lead me through. We entered what looked like it had been a large orchestra practice room, with tiered risers. Everything had been refurbished and painted a matte black. The risers rose in a semi-circle around a depressed area in the floor where a conductor would normally have stood. But no conductor could have stood there. Instead, a 6' tall wooden 4-by-4 post with hooks placed at varying heights occupied the space. I could see similar hook-in spots on the floor near the post. It looked as if large cushions made for seating on the risers, though I could barely see in the dim light of red lanterns and bare candles. The shop girl took a collar along with a pair of wrist and ankle cuffs from a side table. She held them in front of me by their short attached chains and said in a playful and persuasive tone, "You'll need to wear these, alright?" I nodded in passive agreement, knowing that, like before, I could not resist. The shop girl went about confining my throat, wrists, and ankles in stiff leather before leading me to the wooden post by the leash attached to my collar. She locked my wrists and the chain-leash at about my head level. She positioned my ankles several feet from the post so that my back arched as much as possible and then spread my legs wide. She then took what I recognized from my porn surfing to be a spreader bar from the side table, which she attached between my ankles and hooked-in to the floor. I hung from my wrists, vulnerable and strained, in a fully lordotic posture, with my ass presented and only half covered by my plaid skirt. The shop girl then leaned over me from behind. The velvet of her corset teased my exposed lower back between my blouse and skirt. She firmly pressed the front of her velvet thong against my nearly bare ass while she tied a cloth blindfold tightly around my eyes, turning everything to black. When she finished, she leaned in closer and ran her tongue along the outside of my ear. She bit my ear lobe lightly and then whispered, "Oh, and by the way Jane, you can call me Mercy." Mercy backed away and rapped her riding crop across the flesh of my exposed bottom. Then, she lifted my thong and I felt a slick pressure against my puckered asshole. I winced and bit my lip, struggling not to cry out for some instinctive reason. I had had some anal experience, mostly masturbating, which helped me quickly adjust to take the thick bulb of a butt plug. My nipples hardened and I shivered, feeling more sexually vulnerable than ever. Mercy snapped my thong back down on the butt plug and then I listened to the sound of her heels striking the floor as she walked away without another word. The sound grew increasingly distant until I heard the door open and close. I was alone. *** A long time passed, but I couldn't tell how long. When my joints felt stiff from holding the same position I would stretch and flex my muscles while breathing deeply like I had learned in yoga class. Occasionally I would shiver since the room was just a hair chillier than the ideal temperature for bearing so much skin. It was straining but I knew physically that I could maintain my position, bent at the waist with my arms and spread feet restrained, for hours if I remained focused. Luckily, I didn't have to wait quite that long. Eventually I heard the door open again. Instead of the staccato of Mercy's heels, this time I heard the shuffling feet of a crowd. The crowd was otherwise eerily silent. No one talked or laughed or anything. I could only hear an uncountable number of feet surrounding me on what sounded like the risers of the former orchestra rehearsal room. I shivered more, now, but not because of the cold. All the added bodies warmed the room by a few degrees pretty quickly, actually. Instead, the realization that I stood bound, with the goosebumped flesh of my ass exposed, and helpless in front of an immeasurable crowd--at least based on what I could hear--sent chills down my spine. It also flushed my pussy with heat and wetness. My mind raced and heart pounded, much like when I first entered the packed adult theater a week ago. My hormones ran so rampant that I almost missed that the room had gone silent except for the sound of Mercy's voice. "Welcome, everyone," I heard her speak in an almost theatrical tone, "it's wonderful to see you all back after such a long time. We've had some... staffing difficulties, it's true. But what we have tonight I promise will make up for the hiatus. For those of you newcomers out there, you couldn't have a better first night with us." I heard a few scattered cheers, all men's voices. My breath grew heavy. "Some of you might recognize this sweet thing," Mercy continued with a thwack of her riding crop on my bottom, making the butt plug throb a little. "In fact, some of you put her through a little test run last week. Most of you have probably seen the video by now. I'm sure you agree that she made a terrific first impression," Mercy laughed with an insinuating tone in her voice, "didn't you Jane?" Mercy petted my sopping cunt with her riding crop and gave it a love tap. I heard more applause, which this time was less scattered. Mercy went on, "Based on that little... let's say... practice session, as well as Elise's profile, I can assure you all that we've never brought in a more pure, natural, devoted cumbucket." The last word hit me in my lungs: cumbucket. To hear Mercy use it with a well-practiced and authoritarian voice made it feel official, weighty, inescapable. I started to feel as if I were bound by something even stronger than my physical restraints. "She probably doesn't know it yet as well as we do, but Jane is the real deal. She is a built spermslut. The core of her sexual being craves it painfully, but even after last week Elise and I don't think she's realized how deep it runs. She'll find out tonight," Mercy said with a laugh. The guys cheered again. "So let me remind you of a few ground rules: Newcomers cum first, so if this is your first night with us you'll want to make your way to the front... like now," Mercy giggled suggestively and then said, "For the rest of you, we have fluffers to get you started. Be sure to show them your appreciation, but finishing in or on a fluffer will get you kicked out, no exceptions... you know who you are, so behave yourself." A couple of knowing laughs and jeers erupted around the crowd. "Otherwise, this slut wants desperately to be here. You guys should see what her cute little snatch has done to the end of my riding crop," I heard more laughter at this, "so the last big rule is: Make sure she finds out what she is before this over." The crowd applauded as Mercy finished. She gave my ass a stroke, lifting my thong slightly so she could tug the butt plug out with one lubricated pull. I winced and whimpered quietly, equally from pleasure and pain. Once again I heard her heels clack on the floor as she left me, but this time I couldn't tell if she left the room. The crowd had begun to move. *** Two thick calloused hands spread my asscheeks while tugging at my panties. They dragged my panties down my hips and across my skin, thumbs hooked into the waistband and palms spread against my body. The fabric grew tighter and tighter as my thong slid around my spread legs, cutting into my flesh. Then I felt the muscled hands rip and tear the mesh thong, rending it in two as the elastic snapped painfully against me. The hands climbed back up my legs, quickly gripping my asscheeks with fingers dug-in. A thumb probed my slippery asshole and dove in, hooking me from the inside. Then, I felt the hands' owner pull me back until his veiny bare cock pounded into my sopping cunt up to the hilt. I groaned out loud with a gaping mouth only to find it stuffed with another dick, obviously anxious, shaved, and salty with a copious covering of precum. His frantic, urgent thrusts gave the impression that he had been near cumming for a while. It occurred that he was probably a newcomer, more or less like me, with raging hormones and a racing heart. It made me hot. Sure enough, jizz spurted into my throat within a few seconds, flooding my mouth with a desperately sexual and familiar taste: briny, musky, bitter, but a little sweet. He shoved deeper and pulsed warm streams of cum into my throat, which I swallowed hungrily. Saliva ran down my chin when he pulled out. He wiped spit and remnants of semen across my upturned cheek while I heard myself pleading for more cum from the unseen crowd. Feelings like satisfaction, humiliation, and sluttishness welled from my core. "Please, oh god please, I need more, you have no idea how much I need it," I begged with the pungent taste of cum on my tongue and emanating from my belly. The crowd cheered. Another cock stuffed my mouth as the last words left it. The thick pair of hands on my butt gripped tighter and the hooked thumb in my asshole pulled me back on the cock inside me. I felt throbbing against my cervix as the veiny shaft loaded my pussy with ounce after ounce of semen. Rivulets of cum seeped from my gaping labia and ran down my thighs while an orgasm trembled through my body. Bukkake Diaries 2: Depraved Mercy In my minds eye, I could see myself while I came and another guy stepped in, hands around my waist, to take my convulsing cunt. I imagined how used I looked with a cock in my mouth and pussy, how obviously and naturally my body enjoyed every degrading load jerked over my back and into my hair. After a few sloppy strokes in my pussy, I felt the cum-lubed cock slide out and press into my already stretched asshole. His balls slapped against my snatch until they tightened and pumped semen into my rear. The guy in my mouth began to spurt at the same moment. Another guy slapped his hard cock against my face from the other side. Yet another wrapped his dick in my skirt, which sat high across my waist, soaking the wool plaid in sticky whiteness. A second orgasm gripped my body. I could not count as guys took me and came, one after another. There were too many. My thought processes also ground to a halt as base impulses took control. In a short while, though, cum soaked into every inch of fabric I had on and coated the backside of my body from my wrists to ankles. It matted my hair and plastered the sides of my face. Eventually, I started to weaken and cramp from my posture and the restraints. My inner thighs trembled with fatigue and the rushing adrenaline could only mask this so much. Just as I reached my limit, I felt experienced hands working my restraints and repositioning my body. Someone had placed a padded bench with one of the short sides against the pillar. My cum soaked clothes were torn from me. Then I was lain on my back with my head towards the pole. My legs, still forced wide by a spreader bar, were lifted back towards my head and hooked by my ankles, along with my wrists, into the wooden post. My pussy and asshole now raised high to form vessels into which countless cocks deposited their loads. They filled to the brim and then splashed over as anonymous cocks plunged deep, displacing their pearly contents. Cum spilled from my uplifted holes down my body, pooling in crevasses in the folded flesh of my belly and under my tits. Occasionally it dripped directly onto my face, falling through empty space for a distance before splattering my forehead or outstretched tongue. A steady stream of guys also jerked onto my tits and face from the side. I felt entirely drenched. My blindfold had slipped enough when I changed positions to let me see a sliver out from under the bottom. I could mostly see just my belly and tits along with the sheets of cum that covered them. I sometimes caught a glimpse of a straining cock, slick with precum, worked by an urgent hand. And sometimes I could see off into the mass of agitated, excited men in the risers. I couldn't see individuals. Just an uncountable mob clustered in groups around the feminine silhouettes of kneeling fluffers. They provided the foreplay. I provided the gratification. Seeing this made my role unmistakable. I was a cumdump. The crowd worked me through several positions over what felt like hours until I was kneeling in a pool of cum on the floor with my wrists bound to the post. My world had become nothing but sound, taste, tactile sensation, and a tiny sliver of sight. All my senses produced pleasure in that moment. My cumlust was inescapable. I whimpered from exhaustion and an overwhelming awareness of my uncontrollable appetite. The cum slathering my body in thick sheets made my skin tingle excitedly despite my fatigue. So did the cheers of approval from the crowd, which had apparently run its course and finished. I could see the damage from underneath my blindfold. It was worse than any porn I had seen. I writhed in solitary ecstasy, though surrounded by men. That's also when I saw the stiletto heeled boots again. Mercy spoke playfully, "Nice work, very nice work gentlemen." Her audience laughed appreciatively and applauded. "I must say I'm tempted to leave her here," she went on, "just to preserve such a perfect scene." I felt Mercy's riding crop again caressing the cum covered curves of my tits, flicking lightly at my nipples. When Mercy lifted the riding crop away, I found myself hoping she would lick it like a lollypop as she had done before. But I couldn't see. "One last test," I heard Mercy say, before dropping something metallic into the puddle of cum on the floor between my kneeling thighs. "That's the key, kitten," she spoke to me, "you'll have lick it up if you ever want out of those cuffs." I could feel the familiar thrill of humiliation flush in my cheeks. I heard encouragement from the crowd mixed with degradation. I didn't think twice about what to do, but it was the filthiness of the act rather than the prospect of getting out that motivated me most in that moment. I strained in my cuffs to get into position before bending forward. I held my ass in the air, which still dripped cum. I pressed my lips into the pool of cum on the tiled floor and salty musk flooded my nostrils. I dragged my tongue through the jizzy mess while dirty names rained from the crowd: spunkslut, jizzwhore, cumrag. A few minutes passed before I found the key, taking a mouthful of cum as I slurped it off the floor. Holding the key in my tired lips, I struggled to unlock my remaining restraints and collapsed on the sloppy floor. I laid there in a near dream-state for several minutes, my senses overwhelmed, and stroked my cummy pussy. Mercy spoke, "Impressive--it takes quite the filthy cumslut to manage that task. And look at her, the poor thing's still horny, isn't she?" I heard agreement and approval from the crowd. From the bottom of my blindfold I saw Mercy's heels approaching until they straddled my hips. My relaxed slit-stroking became more urgent. I could sense the authority in Mercy's physical presence above me. It made me feel powerless and needy. I felt the familiar stroke of her riding crop along my belly, lapping my cum coated skin like a leather tongue. Mercy used the riding crop to scoop jizz into my mouth while I fingered deeper and more furiously into my cum-slick hole. The image of myself writhing on a sperm-soaked floor while Mercy spoon fed me cum flashed in my mind's eye. Even though I was free of my restraints, I again felt bonded by something even stronger: inescapable identity. Mercy stopped shoveling cum onto my panting tongue and I felt a damp warmth over my face in its place. I caught just the tiniest glimpse of an inner thigh and a silky labia, which lowered until I tasted pussy for the first time. I licked instinctively. Her her fleshy musk mixed intoxicatingly with the taste of semen still fresh in my mouth. It goaded me on. As my tongue licked and probed I felt the velvet of her corset crushed against my body, no doubt ruined by cum at this point. Her fingernails firmly but tenderly gripped my asscheeks, which were sore from fucking. Then waves of ecstasy rolled over me as I felt her expert tongue flattened against my throbbing clit. After a few long strokes, her tongue stiffed and dove into the cum sloppy mess of my cunt. She cooed words of encouragement in a half-nurturing, half-mocking tone, striking the perfect balance for a humiliated cumslut starving for acceptance. For a while, our bodies writhed together, taking turns tensing in one gentle orgasm after another at the coaxing of each other's tongue. I entered a state of deep relaxation and belonging. Soon, I felt feminine hands pull my blindfold over my head. Mercy stood up, using my leash to bring me with her. The dim light didn't reveal much detail, but I could see that the room had emptied. Not too much time could have passed, though, since the last layers of cum on my body were still warm. Still, in that moment I had no sense of time. Mercy stood before me and smiled warmly, lust in her eyes. Her chin dripped with cum from my pussy, which ran down her cleavage and over her already cum-matted velvet corset. I pulled my jizz-coated hair from my face and appreciated what a sopping mess I was. Every inch of me shined with spunk, except for my darkened cum-soaked knee-high socks. As I had the week before, I noticed cameras trained on the cum-wrecked spot I had spent the evening. I shivered. Mercy giggled in the softer tone I recognized from the porn shop the week before, "Do you have any idea how many guys that was?" I blushed, having no idea. Mercy just grinned knowingly in response. Mercy led me from the room by the leash. I walked through the halls of the former high school building, which had come alive. I had arrived mid-afternoon, but it must have been late into the evening at that point. Attractive, well-dressed men and women stared in lust and amusement as we walked. Though I could tell that we were no surprise. As we passed, I could hear debaucherous sounds--moaning, screaming, and leather snapping against skin--from behind the blackened windows of once silent classrooms. On the top floor of the building we arrived at what felt like a luxury hotel room, converted from an old classroom. Mercy took me inside. "I figured you'd need a place to crash again, Jane," Mercy spoke soothingly, "So I hope this suits you." Her deference felt foreign after having spent the past several hours as a devoted cumdoll. I gave a timid nod and stood obediently, while she removed my collar and leash. Mercy then leaned in to tenderly press her salty lips against mine. "Absolutely beautiful, Jane," she said and lightly spanked my ass, "I hope you know how much you meant to everyone tonight. Now rest up. We'll get you a ride home in the morning." Mercy slinked from the room, nearly naked and a slight cum-mess herself. She closed the door and I flopped onto the bed. My eyelids weighed heavily as I lightly massaged cum into my skin, replaying my sensory memories of what had happened and trying to imagine what everything looked like. As I drifted into sleep, I noticed a garment bag draped over a chair across the room. On the table next to the chair was a jewelry box. A white business card leaned against it. I knew instantly what it meant. I smiled faintly, hoping Elise had been to this place. Then, I closed my eyes and slept. Bukkake Diaries: Jane's Induction I started corresponding with Elise over email after responding to her ad on a lifestyle networking site: "Looking for a young, intelligent, single girl for intense play. Unusual situation. For details, please contact Elise by sending a nude photo (face not necessary) to [email address]." I had registered with the networking site desperately shy but desperately wanting to connect my real and fantasy lives. The chance at anonymous exhibitionism scared and excited me. So did the prospect of "intense play." After screwing up my courage, I sent in a picture of myself in a thong, standing in front of my bedroom mirror. In the first few emails, Elise wanted to know the basics: I was in my last year at a well known university; I was 22; I rated my sexual experience as minimal; but I rated my sexual knowledge as high. She told me she loved the picture, which showed my trim 5'4 frame, twisted with my thong-covered ass presented and C cup breasts in profile. My straight brown hair hid my face. I blushed when I read that the picture turned her on. With the basics out of the way, I asked her for details about this "unusual situation." She responded only that she was a psychologist working on project that required a very specific type of female subject. Before sharing more information, she asked me to write a long email describing my deepest fetish and anything I had done to explore it. She would not tell me more until then. I agonized for a few days about what exactly to write and how much to reveal. Then, late one night, I sat down to write with my heart pounding up into my throat and my spine tingling. As I wrote, my body responded pleadingly, encouraging my mind to reveal more and more. I didn't resist. I wrote distractedly, stopping a few times to reach into my panties and coax myself to a nervous orgasm, and eventually sent her what follows: *** "My sexual tastes have never been normal. Through high school I fantasized but rarely explored. There was nothing unusual about this. Few high schoolers venture far in experiencing their fantasies. For those who don't it's usually a question of opportunity. But even for those that do, their tastes and desires are vanilla and accessible. I probably could have experienced more in this vein; I knew I was fairly attractive and fairly attractive girls have chances. But I knew I wanted something out of the ordinary and was afraid of getting what I wanted. So I repressed my desires, indulging only in fantasy. This followed me to college. I had discovered internet porn in high school and clung to it. I obsessed over kinkier sites for hours at a time, imagining myself in the place of the girls on screen. They were all gorgeous and uninhibited, with perfect bodies. I lusted to be them, but also to be with them. Eventually, in college, the hours of perving on porn and infrequent vanilla hook-ups stopped being enough. I started sneaking off to porn shops alone. I was looking for more porn, of course, but it was the atmosphere that really drew me: so dirty, so abnormal, so real. It also brought me tantalizingly close to being exposed for what I knew I was. I could have fooled around at parties like an ordinary college girl and caught glimpses of the kinks I wanted to experience. But I knew my obsessions ran filthier and deeper and I was afraid both of standing out and of being unsatisfied. So from internet porn I turned to watching porn in the back booths of sleazy porn shops and theaters. I would watch a bit of everything kinky--bondage, spanking, latex, anal--but I always returned to the same fetish, the one that made my heart skip and flutter and the rest of my body throb. It was bukkake. I learned of and masturbated to its many forms: submissive and sometimes bound or clothed Japanese girls; lusty, seemingly uncontrollable Europeans; swallowing; no-swallowing; facial only; full-body; single girl; multiple girl; without fucking; with sucking; and with lots of fucking. No matter the set up, I always melted to see thick white ropes of cum shooting over the target girl, draped over her body, matted in her hair, running down her skin, making her a slutty mess. The cum itself turned me on and triggered something visceral. But when I was honest with myself it was also the idea of being marked and displayed as a slut in that way, being the center of attention, and, more importantly, being the source of pleasure for so many men that turned me on. It went on like this for months. Every so often I would reach a point beyond my ability to function normally. I would think throughout the day of nothing else and find myself drifting off in thought or sneaking off to any private place I could find to pet myself into a frenzy. Then at night I'd head out into the city to whatever forbidden-looking smut shop attracted me. I'd dress to not be recognized. I usually wore a hat and a large coat. But underneath, predictably, I'd wear as little as the porn stars I loved to watch. Sometimes I would wear a skirt and top. Sometimes just a thong. Sometimes nothing at all. But it was never to show off to anyone but myself. I knew I was too uptight, too scared. When I'd go into a shop or theater, I'd attract a little attention, but not much. The people that worked the counters acted like they had seen everything and they probably had. A lot of the customers had the same attitude. Only a few would watch me carefully, eyeing me with obvious appetite. I enjoyed the attention but it also made me uncomfortable. Once there, I'd head quickly to the back. There were always booths there. Going inside them made me relieved, horny. Like everyone else, I'd pump quarters into wherever I needed before dropping into the vinyl covered arm chairs across from the booths' screens. Unlike everyone else, I'd also strip to nearly nothing before sitting down, never more than a thong. The feel of the vinyl against my bare skin and of being exposed publicly, even if technically in private, was a thrill. Sometimes I'd orgasm as soon as my skin touched the chair. Then I'd begin my search through the channels, looking for kink, hoping for a girl surrounded by cocks and coated in cum. I had also switched between hope and fear that I would find a gloryhole some night. I had heard about them on internet forums and seen them in porn. The idea made me hot, but I couldn't tell how I would respond in real life had I found one. My mind had blocked out the possibility of imagining. But it never happened. For all my obsessive fantasizing and the little risks I had taken to get off, I've remained inexperienced." *** Elise responded early the next morning. Her response was short, asking me to make an appointment to come to her office. She also included a link to her professional website and a photo of herself, she said, to put me at ease. She was beautiful in a polished and refined sense. She wore a grey turtleneck sweater in her picture that was tight enough to show that she was bustier than me and obviously fit. She wore her straight blonde hair up and smiled invitingly. I guessed that she was in her late thirties. I felt intimidated but couldn't resist. Obviously seeing her had to be less risky than sneaking of to adult theaters like I had been. The uncertainty turned me on. I arrived after class in time for for my appointment the next day. Elise's office was in a small but expensive modern building in the hills overlooking downtown. Following Elise's instructions, I took the elevator to the top floor and entered her office suite at one end of a long hall. I hadn't known what to wear. The appointment was obviously going to be about sex. But it also was obviously going to be in a professional setting. I played it safe and wore tight, low-rise, dark jeans with a tight, open necked black sweater. I took a slight risk, though, by wearing 5" stilettos but no bra or panties. My heels clacked as I walked into her office suite. I started to second guess my choice to go without panties, given how wet I had become. Her receptionist was an obviously gay guy, not much older than me. He smiled at me as I entered and called in to Elise's office to announce I had arrive without me even saying a word. He knowingly nodded a few times while listening to Elise on the phone and eyed me with a slight smirk. He then hung up the phone and said, "She's ready to see you. Last office on the right." I saw him wink playfully as I walked past. Elise sat in an armchair in front of an enormous sheet of windows looking over the city below. I stood gaping for a moment. Elise stood to great me which brought my attention back into the room. She was more beautiful than her photo: tall, slender, but curvy. She wore a short grey dress skirt along with a jacket. She looked professional but subtly sexual. Her skirt could not have been any shorter without being inappropriate or any longer without being staid. She smiled warmly and gestured to the armchair facing hers and said, "Welcome, Jane, please make yourself comfortable." I sat and crossed my legs. "Tea?" she asked and I nodded, watching her pour the steaming liquid into two tasteful Japanese style tea cups on the coffee table between us. Elise spoke first, "Jane, thank you for coming. I suspect you're hoping for more of an explanation of what I have in mind for you. I'll do my best to make sure you leave here comfortable with anything that follows. But I have to warn you, I can't tell you everything. You'll have to learn some things on your own as we go." I nodded nervously in response. "Sure," I replied. "You should know, though, that at each step you'll be in control and can back out anytime you like," she continued, seeming genuinely concerned. I cleared my throat and nodded again, "Sure." Elise went on, "Jane, your email was wonderful. As you know, I'm a psychologist and have a normal practice. I also do some consulting for, there's no other way to put this, some lifestyle groups. Do you know what I mean by that?" I sipped my tea, trying to hide my shortening breaths and nodded from behind the cup. Smiling reassuringly, Elise said, "Good, I'm glad. The groups I take on as clients are all very discrete, made up of professionals or even well-known people who want to protect their careers by keeping their sexual preferences private. They need someone to help screen new members and that's where I come in. That's also why I couldn't tell you more over email. But I'm glad we got in touch." My eyes were wide and my heart fluttered as I listened. It seemed Elise could sense how my body was responding, so she went ahead without a verbal response from me, "I get lots of emails in connection with that ad. I'm not looking for any one thing in particular, but some of my clients ask that I also screen girls to participate in certain of their activities. I ask the girls that respond, like you, to discuss their own fetishes with the idea that I can match them up with a group that would appreciate them. But I've had a great deal of trouble meeting the needs of one group in particular. I'm hoping you're the right girl." Elise eyed me with a surprisingly predatory look, "Your email and other... attributes certainly suggest that you are. You seem level-headed, honest about your own sexuality. Just a little repressed from what I've observed, I'm afraid to say. You could have dressed any way you pleased today but you choice a conservative route, didn't you?" I blushed and nodded, feeling caught. "The blushing is adorable," she laughed, "perfect, really. As I said before, Jane, I can't tell you very much more. You'll have to take the next steps on your own, but I'm certain you will and that you won't regret it." Elise then handed me a business card that was blank except for an address and explained, "If you want to go further or know any more about what I have in mind, you'll have to go to that address. It's a porn shop." I blushed again, this time fiercely red. I felt flush with desire mixed with humiliation. I bit my lip and set my tea down clumsily. Elise laughed again, "The blushing and nervousness is so cute, but you've already told me your little secret. It's too late now to be shy. Besides, you're safe with me, Jane. Go to that address whenever you like, but mention that I sent you when you arrive. It's all up to you now." Elise stood up and I followed. I swallowed hard, unable to speak. I tried to voice a question or even thanks for her meeting me, but my head was swimming. She gently placed her hand on the small of my back, underneath my sweater, and lead me to the door. She hugged me before I left and smiled reassuringly. "Hopefully we'll meet again, Jane." *** It was something of a miracle that I got home safely. I could barely think enough to drive. Back at my dingy college apartment, I was a world away from Elise's office, but my head was still there. I had thought of nothing but the address she had given me. I knew I would end up going. It was just a question of when. My pervy needs had been driving me to porn shops to masturbate for months and this was just another one. But this one was more enticing. It promised something unknown, unusual, and intense, whatever it was. I stripped my clothes off as soon as I got in the door, my jeans clearly soaked. Then I collapsed on my couch and, for the rest of the afternoon, fingered my sopping pussy furiously while watching bukkake porn on my laptop. I spent the next day in horny agony, nearly getting into accidents and avoiding conversations. By the afternoon, I knew I needed to go that night to the address Elise had given me. It was exactly the same desperation that would have normally lead me to an adult theater video booth. I couldn't resist. That night, I put on my coat and hat as usual. This time, I wore nothing at all underneath. Just a pair of heels and my make-up. On the way there, I stroked my totally bare and wet snatch at red lights under my coat. I couldn't get there fast enough. I parked on the street across from the porn shop, which looked like any other. It was in a partially vacant warehouse district and it seemed like no one would end up there unless they meant to. I felt vulnerable there alone but this just made me hotter and made it harder to resist my urge to go inside. I walked in and my entire body flushed red and trembled. An attractive red-headed woman in her late twenties worked behind the counter. I nodded to her and stammered, "Hi, um, I'm supposed to mention that... um... Elise sent me. Does that make any sense?" The shop girl smiled slyly after a moment and said, "Oh, yeah it definitely does." She looked around the shop for a moment—there were a few other customers browsing—and continued, "Please, make yourself very comfortable. Everything and anything you want is on the house tonight. If you want to watch anything you can use that booth," she pointed, "and I'll switch it to play for free." I hadn't expected anything, but this still surprised me. "Really? Thanks, I... um... don't know what to say," I said as I blushed and wandered away, tottering on my 5" heels. The shop girl just laughed and called out, "Enjoy!" behind me. I did what I knew and went straight back to the video booths. I was a little embarrassed that Elise apparently had told the shop girl about my habits, but I was also turned on by it. I slipped inside the booth the shop girl had suggested. Immediately, I dropped my coat and hat to the floor, standing completely naked and exposed in the booth. I felt the same thrill I always felt when I exposed myself in this barely public way. My nipples hardened and my cunt throbbed. I fell into the vinyl chair tried to work the TV screen. I realized quickly that, sure enough, it worked for free. I also realized quickly that every single channel was set to play bukkake. None of it was tame. No three or four guy group sex videos. Every single video showed dozens and dozens of guys taking just a single, sperm coated slut. On one channel, a blond was getting fucked in every hole, sandwiched between three guys as still more shot ropes of cum over her hair and back. On another channel, a brunette with huge tits was bound, laying face up over a pummel-horse as guys used her mouth and pussy before adding to the lake of cum pooling on her belly. On another channel, an Asian girl collected load after load in a wine glass while semen dripped down her face. I was mortified that this was obviously a set up, that Elise had figured me out so perfectly. I was being fed exactly what I needed to be fed in order to lose control. It worked. Barely five minutes had passed before I came with two fingers deep in my pussy and two fingers pinching my nipples. I writhed in the vinyl chair leaving streaks of my juices where my swollen lips rubbed against the material. I screamed out so loudly as I came that anyone in the shop could have heard me. I didn't care, though. I actually hoped they would. I needed something to happen. It did. The shop girl had directed me to a gloryhole booth without telling me. I learned this when a veiny, thick, completely anonymous cock pressed through a hole in the wall of my booth in between the chair and the screen. I gasped in shock but only for a second. It already oozed precum, which dripped a long string down to the floor. I watched another blond on the screen take a cumshot on her already sticky labia. My craving took over. I dropped to my knees on the filthy floor. I pressed up to the gloryhole and eagerly lapped my tongue over the salty cockhead in front of me. Needing to be filled, I quickly swallowed half the strange shaft down into my throat. I stroked the cock with my lips while the squeals of bukkake sluts on the screen drowned out all the sound. I couldn't hear when the guy on the other side started to cum, but I could feel his dick pulse in my mouth. I backed away and aimed him as he exploded all over my panting tongue, my nose, and cheeks. He pulled back as soon as he finished. I was out of my mind with lust. It would only get worse. An hour past like this, one cock after another pushing through the hole. I gorged myself on the cocks and and covered myself with their cum. I counted the first seven, then lost count, counted another four, then lost count. Thinking back on it, I must have sucked more than 14 guys off in quick succession through the gloryhole, but I had no sense of it at the time. After an hour, I was a complete mess. Cum ran down my body from my face, where most of it hit, over my tits and tummy, down to my kneeling thighs. While I sucked, I had fingered myself to a handful of small orgasms, each one more intense than the last. Then, the shop girl's voice cut in over the porn soundtrack. "Hot," she said, "and fucking impressive. Elise was right about you, Jane. I know you're a mess and all, but... ah... you might want to step out to see what's playing in the main theater. It's a short walk. I promise!" She must have watched on a hidden camera, I thought. Any embarrassment I would have normally felt was all thrill now. Something had taken over in me over the past hour. I had had just a taste of my deepest fetish. It made me feel liberated to be a slut and desperate to be the one I knew I was. First I peaked out the door of the booth, then I stepped out of it, completely naked except for the semen that drenched my front. As I swayed on my heels down the video booth hallway into the main room of the shop, I couldn't believe how empty it was. Where had all those guys come from, I asked myself. I walked through the main room of the shop and caught the shop girl's eye. She grinned ear to ear and clapped. "Um, thanks," I stammered coquettishly, "but where is the main theater?" The shop girl pointed down a short hall with double doors at the end without saying a word, smiling. Bukkake Diaries: Jane's Induction "Um, thanks again," I said. Then I asked while walking, "You watched didn't you?" The shop nodded and said, "Definitely!" I didn't blush this time. I did blush, however, when I opened the double doors and saw myself on the huge theater screen. I was sloppily sucking down cock through a gloryhole as saliva and sperm streamed down my chin. The shop girl had apparently recorded me, too. The past hour's events played back in front of a packed room. I tried to estimate: 45, 60 guys maybe? My heart fluttered too fast for me to think clearly. I was standing at the front of the theater and everyone had noticed. I got a short ovation. At that moment I was even hornier than when I stepped into the booth. All my embarrassment just translated into more lust. I needed cum. I craved it. My pussy also begged to be fucked in a way more desperate than I had ever experienced. I was so caught up in my hormones that I could do nothing else but lean my back against the theater wall, spread my legs, and begin to masturbate, still drippy with cum. The guys took this as their cue and I was quickly encircled. I resisted nothing and couldn't even if I wanted. The first guy stepped between my legs and pulled my hand away from my pussy, shoving his bare cock deep inside my aching snatch. My eyes rolled back in my head and I groaned, "Oh fuck yes!" I arched my back and moaned as the guy in my pussy spasmed and shot a steady stream of cum deep inside me. The crowd cheered when they heard me beg for more. The next few guys picked me up and carried me to a leather couch. One laid down and the others positioned me to straddle his dick with my cum filled cunt. They lowered me onto him while another guy aggressively took my mouth. He started pulling my hair and telling all the other guys how much he liked using cumbuckets like me. He spat on my forehead and told me I couldn't leave until every guy in the room was done cumming. As he talked shit, a third guy positioned himself behind my upturned ass and shoved his lubed cock into my hole. I struggled to take him but I got off on it. I felt like a slut. A series of rolling orgasms took over and left me barely aware of what followed. Every so often the stream of guys would slow down and I'd get a chance to run my hands over my body, massaging the cum into my tits and pussy. But then another cock would jerk off onto my face or slide into my cum slippery cunt. The guys would cheer every time I took a big load or got fucked especially hard. I lost myself in orgasms, eating up the attention and humiliation. Every guy came at least once, but many came a few times. Eventually, I took the last couple of cumshots on my face. For the first time in several hours, I sat up and wiped the cum from my eyelids. The crowd had thinned a little, but the remaining guys cheered and applauded as I stood up. I heard myself giggle and took a bow. I also noticed for the first time two cameras on tripods trained on the couch, which now sported a sheen of spunk on its cushions where I had been. A couple of guys also held handicams. I felt a thrill knowing I had been recorded. I felt a little dizzy. As the guys filed out of the theater, the shop girl approached from the side holding a terry cloth robe and a towel. She looked me over from top to bottom with an approving eye and said, "filthy... tsk tsk." She laughed, "There's an open apartment upstairs and Elise told me to let you crash there if you ended up... performing well. Here, you can use these, too." She handed me the robe and towel, but I waved them off, saying "no thanks, I want to... you know... keep it..." The shop girl cut me off with an understanding nod. I was relieved about the apartment, though, and I think she could tell. I could not have gotten myself home. My body ached in a good but distracting way. I was exhausted. My head was swimming. Even my balance seemed a little off. The shop girl lead me out of the theater, through the store, and into a shared public staircase in the building. I didn't even notice that I was fully in public completely naked and covered in seed. I don't remember anyone seeing me, at least. The shop girl left me in the apartment, which was fashionably and expensively decorated. So much so that it seemed out of place in the dark, grity industrial neighborhood I could see from the windows. It was so late that it didn't matter what time it actually was. My energy was sapped. I collapsed onto the trendy king size platform bed, not caring that I basically ruined the sheets with the layer of jizz on my body. I remember thinking that if that Elise should have thought of that before letting me crash there if it was going to be a problem. Then, I fell asleep. The next day I woke up extremely late, even for me. I rolled out of bed and stood appreciating the dried cum that flaked from every inch of my skin while I filled the bathtub. It didn't look pretty. But it made me look used and made me feel proud. I slipped into the tub and soaked for almost an hour, lost in thought about the previous night while I relaxed and cleaned up. I stepped out of the bathroom naked while drying my hair to find Elise in the bedroom, looking refined as ever. The look on her face could not have been more approving as she stared at me. I blushed, knowing how rediculous it was to feel nervous in front of her naked, given that she had probably seen at least some of last night's footage. "Still adorable, Jane," she said, "even more than before actually. You were incredible last night according to everything I've heard and seen. I wonder if you know how rare and special a find you are..." she trailed off, then took a small jewelry box from her purse. "Take this," she said as she opened the box, "as a gift. I had to show you my appreciation." I took the box and stood speechless while I stared at the emerald studded art-deco bracelet inside. I could tell it was vintage, very real, and very expensive. It was weighty. I looked at Elise with doe-eyes. "You don't need to say anything," she went on, "since it's the least I can do for you. You've made some of my most difficult and important clients incredibly happy. "Also, when you're ready to go, you can wear this." She touched a garment bag that was draped over a chair. "Then we'll need to talk. I'll wait for you in the living room. Take your time," she finished before she turned and left the room with a warm glance over her shoulder. I continued to clean up and dressed myself in the clothes she had left. Like her clothes, they were expensive, stylish, but also a touch on the scandalous side. I caught myself in the mirror before stepping out of the bedroom. Opaque black leggings clung to every curve of my legs and ass, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination and just barely concealing the lines of a tiny g-string. A well cut waist jacket and bra worked my cleavage up and out. Obviously expensive designer heels served as a 6" pedestal. I looked hot and easy, but still appropriate enough to go out in public. It was a new look for me. I loved it. I slinked into the living room and sat across from Elise with a coffee table between us, reminding me of our first meeting. She looked at me approvingly and asked, "Was this a one time thing for you?" For a moment I wondered if I'd ever have the chance again, but quickly realized that was nothing to worry about. "Absolutely not," I replied. Elise smiled, "So can I count on you?" "Yeah, absolutely," I said as firmly as possible. Elise continued tersely, "Here are the rules, then: Never ask questions, always show up, dress the part, and, of course, enjoy yourself. Break any of them and I will have to cut you off. No second chances. Got that?" I nodded, "Absolutely." Elise looked excited by this. Aroused even. But she kept it to herself. She slid a short stack of papers across the table--releases of all sorts--and asked me to sign them. I did without hesitating. I spent the rest of the day with Elise. She took me shopping, stocking my wardrobe with clothes I could have never afforded on my student budget. At the end of the day I had the clothes to dress like a stripper or dirty librarian and everything in between. When she dropped me off at my apartment, she leaned over from the driver's seat and kissed my cheek, which caught me off-guard. Without a word, she handed me another plain white business card listing a date and address. I grinned as I got out of the car and blew a kiss back to Elise as I walked toward my building. My life had changed completely in a way I would have to be extremely discrete about. It made me feel a secretive pride and sense of empowerment. In any case, as I rode the elevator with a pile of shopping bags at my feet, I glanced at the card and knew where I would be in a couple of days. I couldn't wait.