I’d never been with a man before, let alone two. Truth be told, I was just afraid of them as I was turned on. Maybe, ‘til that point, I’d known the wrong kind of man, and for that reason never let myself desire them.
It took another woman to bring the fantasy to life; my lover, my Mistress - a goddess in human form - whose tender hand stripped my manhood away, piece by piece over time, until all that remained was the girl long hidden. Under her watch my femininity roared, bright and powerful, brought only to heel by her dominance and my willing submission.
She made me a shapeshifter, kneading my breasts daily with a latex covered glove, encouraging them to grow. She dressed me in forbidden things; stockings, panties and all the black lace I’d pined for, but loved only in secret. My hair grew, and my skin became soft, my scents wispy and light. I was now for every hour of the day the woman of my dreams. Timid at first, but finding my voice over the course of months. And now I was at the precipice of something new.
We stood at the bedside. Mistress watched from the corner. A dirty blond-haired man towered before me; the other ran his rough hands around the curve of my hips. The man behind pulled me against his length. It hardened beneath my cheeks. Soon he would be inside me. The air grew heavy in my lungs.
His blond friend wore a look I’d never seen on a man. He crossed the polite distance I held for his sex, and did so with lust. Between the two of them I was small, at their mercy, yet safe under Mistress’s watchful eye.
Without thinking I raked my fingers through the fur of his chest. I never imagined I’d find something like that sexy, and yet I was eager to lose myself in it, in him.
He twisted a handful of hair and pulled me into a kiss. It was different than kissing another woman; hot, meaty and wet. The prickles around his mouth turned my lips deliciously numb.
‘Good girl,’ Mistress hummed. My heart leapt with her approval.
The kiss deepened. Pleasing our guests pleased her, and there was nothing more important. I pressed my ass against the erection behind me, and followed the pull of its owner.
Physically, I was ready. Mistress had made sure of that. Earlier that day she’d shackled my feet to the ends of a steel bar. For more than an hour her fingers glided in and out - one at first, then two, three - stretching me in anticipation; making me wet in a way I couldn’t on my own.
She stood from her chair and approached. She reached between my lovers, between my legs, and cupped my pearls. I strained against the silver cage she’d locked around me. Were I a man I might have felt ashamed. Instead I writhed under her power.
‘I like her better as a bottom,’ she mused. ‘Don’t you?’
The two men chuckled. I whined with need. Dreams of a flesh and blood dick filling me with seed skirted near reality.
One of them shoved me onto the bed. They stood tall, as did the hot pillars between their legs. It seemed all I could do was stare, unable to draw breath, hypnotized. What trepidation I’d started with evaporated, leaving only eagerness as I dived forward.
I’d never sucked a dick before; never tasted a salty glans or the drip of precum from the slit. Yet to put my lips around one was like finding a new purpose. I didn’t have to be a unique talent or take it very deep, so long as I worshiped with all I had. One was enough, but I had two. My mouth jumped between them, inspiring their hardness ever more.
Mistress watched with rapt attention. I didn’t need to see her to know. This was what she’d trained me for; to serve, to please - not just her, but whoever she deigned worthy to lay in our bed. This was for her, just as much as it was for me.
A firm hand took me by the back of the head and with it I plunged. He pressed to the back of my throat, and sat there while I choked. I stayed as long as I could. Sometimes oxygen is secondary.
Their words were lost to sensation. I followed the guidance of their hands. My lovers switched places. My second lover - a lithe and dark-skinned man - parted my legs. I couldn’t resist him if I wanted to, nor could I resist the sudden tongue that plunged into my entrance.
I was barely able to focus on my first partner as the wet muscle circled. But it didn’t matter where my attention lay, so long as I acquiesced to the agents of my Mistress. Two on one is a challenge for any aspiring slut, but I was more than willing to meet them halfway.
My clit strained against its sheath. Once it had been agony, begging for touch, but was now an alert screaming from inside.
Soon the words spilled out. ‘Please,’ I whimpered. ‘Fuck me…’
Mistress purred. ‘Patience, girl.’ Oh, what bittersweet torture!
My lovers eased back. They would take their time. Mistress had vetted them well. I followed their hands as they ran along my sides, stealing touch from corners rarely acknowledged. I shivered, vulnerable and exposed, high on a cocktail of arousal and fear; of what I couldn’t say.
Now upright on my knees I accepted the deluge of their mouths on my body. Lips and teeth pressed into my neck, summoning delicious bruises.
One man cupped my breasts. They were barely a handful in his palms, but he savored them still. His callouses ran under the curves, shifting their weight, before thumbs and fingers closed around the areolas. They strained for attention, and he gave it willingly, closing his mouth around one nipple, swirling his tongue, while pinching the other. Together they were a sensual bombardment. I moaned, helplessly but needily. There was no stopping this, but why would I want to?
Across the dimly lit room, Mistress touched herself. She made little sound except hums of approval. Even from afar her control was absolute. This, she told me again without words, was just as much for her pleasure. So I fell further.
At last the time had come. No more teasing. Now we were going to fuck.
I was going to be fucked.
My thin, toned lover sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his dick with expectation. I had toys larger than him, but he didn’t need to be the biggest to be intimidating.
His blond friend took my arms and guided me forward. I followed, and straddled the man in front of me. The eager cockhead rattled the front of my cage, and burned as it ran the length of my pearls, across the smooth valley leading to my entrance. A streak of precum marked its trail.
The other probed me from behind with lubricated fingers, making doubly sure that I was ready.
I was ready.
Our eyes locked. My eyes widened as the fleshy bulb slipped through my ring. It was hot, hard, and it took all I had to relax around it. Suddenly it was the largest thing to have ever entered me, regardless of how I’d trained.
I steadied my breath and lowered my weight onto him. His length pressed into me, breaking what little resistance I gave. My swollen p-spot found him and held against his organ. A trickle of endorphins filled my head; a taste of what was to come.
It was almost by instinct that I started to rut. Up and down, striking my button over and again. Each thrust incited a mounting pleasure, and though it was a long climb the journey was more than worthwhile.
One man grasped my hips, holding me to him; the other pried my lips apart and fed me his kiss. I bounced between them, hungry for both. Sensation after another saw me cast back and forth. This, my fantasy, was more than I’d imagined.
I’d become delirious with sensation! Each progressive thrust robbed me of my legs, turning them to jelly. Ramming myself against them was a new kind of joy, but one my body could no longer carry. I cried, pushing through the exhaustion. It burned in my thighs. More!
From the moment my knees gave way my partners stole my weight, all but throwing me to the mattress; face down at first, clasping my hips and lifting me to meet their dicks. They took turns plunging inside me, pumping my P-spot to throbbing. A whined without shame. Harder! Faster! I climbed and climbed, so high I could scream!
Somewhere in the flurry of sex I turned onto my back. Hands gripped my legs, my feet draped over a man’s shoulders - I could barely tell which - while his full force drove us forward. Our mingled sweat filled the air like steam and saturated the sheets.
His scruffy blonde friend grinned and guided my hands behind my head. Soon it would be his turn again, and I’d accept him with ease, on and on through the night.
But it couldn’t last. Even the most stalwart of sluts had her limits, and I was far from that. Two on one with their level of endurance meant I never stood a chance.
On any other day I could spend hours without release, plunging my depths with unbridled need; but these stallions knew how to crash through the barrier. No matter how hard I tried to draw it out, to give Mistress the show she deserved, a climax was inevitable.
It landed like a tidal wave, cascading outward through my belly and to the farthest reaches. My hands shook and my knees trembled. A wellspring erupted from my soft, confined clit, dribbling pent up sex onto the sheets. Up was down was left was right as my senses turned, lost in the warm pulse that shook the world. Orgasm after another reduced me to a lazy puddle, unable to hold a thought beyond satisfaction.
Mistress ran her fingers through my hair, drawing me gently back down to earth. Her eyes smiled where her lips were drawn tight. She was pleased, of course, but something told me it was not yet over. Her fingers ran through the wetness I’d made, then pulled back to feed me. I lapped the cum from her fingers, moaning in appreciation. Through the fog I looked up to her, and met for a passionate kiss. She savored my taste; after all, it belonged to her.
‘Done already?’ she teased. ‘It’s terribly rude to finish before your guests.’
My lovers chuckled, and I was too far gone to feign embarrassment.
‘How will you show your appreciation?’ Mistress asked.
My gaze drifted between them. How, after all that we’d done, were they still so hard? How, after all I’d taken, was I still thirsty? My lips hung open, and I begged without words. Mistress demanded no less.
I was all but a ragdoll, laid out on my back, accepting them in my mouth and my ass without resistance. Had I the means I’d still be slurping and rutting. The mind was willing but the body was spent; not that my lovers were complaining.
On film it was the scene that marked the end, when the dominant men marked the girl with their seed. I didn’t feel the eruption inside me, though I’d fantasized about it many times. All I felt was the waning hardness as he slowed.
His friend hung over me, pulled from my mouth, and pumped furiously with his hand. With a low grunt he let loose, raining thick drops over my chest. I arched up, determined to clean the remains from his slit. His taste was different to my own; thicker, more bitter, but I wasn’t about to waste it. The rest of his cum ran down my curves and around my breasts before seeping down my sides.
Mistress smiled a wry smile as she inspected the scene. My lovers parted, allowing her a full view. She couldn’t help but spread the seed around my chest, as though punctuating what kind of a fiend I’d become; and it was all thanks to her.
Her eyes softened as she stroked my cheek. My mouth gaped, still desperate to taste.
‘Was it everything you hoped for, darling girl?’
I nodded tiredly. It was, and so much more.
