This is submission

I don't know if this means I'm back or not. I know this idea has been kicking around in my head, and I know that I have a little bit of a request list building up. So maybe it does.

Mostly, though, I'm worried. Do I still have it? Have I lost my skills? Can I still crawl into your mind and give you an orgasm? It's been months, people.

So you tell me; do I still have what it takes to please you?

Submitting to a gang bang

            The first step was to put on the cage. “We wouldn’t want you to get hard, would we?” she asked me. The giggle that followed had no mirth in it. The cage was tight already, and I knew that trying to get erect just wouldn’t fit.

            “Which is not to say you won’t get fucked,” she said. “In fact, tonight you’re going to get gang banged.”

            She led me to a soft matt and told me to get on all fours. Just for now, she assured me. Then she hooked a belt around my waist and put each of my wrists in a little sling. “Okay,” she said. “You can stand now.” Once on my feet, she showed me another padded strap to lay down on, one that would go right across my chest. Leaning into it, I found myself almost floating, my feet barely touching the ground.

            “Now hold this,” she said, handing me a huge dildo. “Hold it tight.”

            I squeezed my hand around the dildo and heard a ripping and tearing sound. Then I felt something sticky on my hand. Looking over, I watched as she wrapped duct tape around my hand over and over, literally taping me to the dildo. By the time she was done, it was like my fingers had been turned into a dildo. I could move my wrist, but nothing else.

            Then she walked around to the other side and put another dildo in my hand. “Keep your thumb free,” she said as she started taping me up just as tightly. Once I was fully bound and couldn’t use my mitts as anything other than rubber cocks, she put a red cloth against my palm to be held there with my thumb. “This is your safeword, okay?”

            “Okay,” I said. “But why can’t I just say something if it gets to be too much?”

            She gave me another giggle, and her eyes flashed with the mischief that was still to come. She stepped away, and then showed me why I wouldn’t be able to speak.

            It looked like a gag. Well, sort of. Most gags have something that goes into the mouth, to keep you from talking. This one had a little cock shaped piece of rubber, maybe three inches long. Long enough that I’d feel like I was sucking cock, but not so long that I’d gag on it. But that wasn’t the weird part.

            The weird part was on the other side of the gag. Normally, it’s just a flat piece of leather, and no one can tell what’s in your mouth. But this time, the flat piece of leather had a ring on it. And through the ring was another dildo. A huge rubber cock hanging off the front of my face.

            “You always wanted to get face fucked,” she said, smiling at me. “I bet this isn’t quite what you meant. But it’ll have to do.”

            Then she put a blindfold on me, and I had to guess about what would happen next. I had to rely on my other senses. The click of her heels on the floor as she walked over to her bag. The sound of a latex glove being snapped into place, followed by more steps towards me. The smell of lubricant. The feel of something very cold being pressed, then rubbed, into my ass. The gentle way she massages my ass with two fingers, trying to get me to relax, trying to get me to open myself up to her.

            I was so sure she was going to fuck me. I figured she would work her way around. She’d fuck me in the ass with one of her strap on cocks, then move to each hand, and finally end up fucking my face. It could be hours. I was already straining against the cage.

            When she started pressing the dildo up my ass, I was sure I had it right. She slid it in slowly, carefully. Almost gently. I kept waiting to feel the leather of her harness, but it didn’t come. The dildo just kept going in, deeper and deeper. It pressed in as far as anything had ever been, just on the edge of being too uncomfortable. Just on the edge of burning, the edge of me dropping the little red flag.

            “You’re doing very well,” she told me, patting me on the curve of my back. I was breathing hard through my nose, trying to keep my ass relaxed, trying to let her in as deep as she wanted to go.

            Then she hooked something to the belt she’d put on me earlier. And another strap found its way between my legs, around the little cage I was trapped in, and hooked to the front of the belt.

            She stepped away. I could hear her heels clicking on the floor. But my ass was still full. Still so very full.

            And she laughed again. “I have to take a picture of this,” she said. And I know she did. More than one picture, too. “Do you have any idea what’s about to happen?” she asked.

            I made a noise into the gag, trying to guess. Trying to tell her that I had a sinking feeling, that I was afraid I did know.

            She laughed at the fact that I couldn’t speak. “Haven’t dropped your flag,” she said. Then she giggled in that evil way again. “Not yet, anyway.”

            There was a knock at the door. I heard her walk over and open it. Then I heard other voices. They exchanged platitudes, none of them even mentioning me. I tried to count the voices. Were there three? Four? More than four?

            I listened as they walked through the room. There was the click of Her heels. I’d recognize that sound anywhere. A softer step sounded like bare feet. Then a harder pounding that made me think of boots with a thick heel. Who had she invited?

            The steps came closer and closer, and hands started to trace over my body. Long fingernails. Trimmed nails. Calloused fingers. Smooth hands. At least four sets of hands, slowly tracing over my body as I shook there, stuffed front and back, my hands bound into dildos, reality slowly sinking in.

            “A gang bang,” she said. “That’s what I promised you. And that’s what you’re going to get.”

            A pair of hands – calloused and with short nails – took hold of my right wrist, gently guiding it around. Another pair, this one soft and with long nails, grabbed the other. I felt very long nails on my ass, sliding around like razor blades, delicately playing with the skin but moving with the restrained violence of a patient shark.

            And I felt her hands in my hair. I could smell how excited she already was. Probably not the only one.

            “How many guys can say they’ve fucked four women?” she asked me. Then she laughed again. “Or, rather, got fucked by four women.”

            All four of them penetrated themselves against me then, each letting out a gasp of pleasure as they used me.

            “Four women,” she said, “And here you are, no more than an object. Nothing more than a stand that holds our dildos. An object.” She pushed herself all the way to my face, and I could feel the stubble of hair against my nose. She pulled back and then thrust forward again.

            They all started to find their own rhythms, pleasuring themselves against me, using me for their pleasure, but not doing anything with me. I strained against the cage so hard, but the plastic wouldn’t budge.

            “This,” she said to me, scratching furrows through my hair with her nails, “is true submission. You’re nothing. You gain no pleasure; you don’t get to cum. No one is going to touch your dick. We’re just going to fuck you for our own enjoyment. Use you like a toy.”

            She pounded hard against my face. Behind me I could feel hips pounding against my ass, but the dildo shoved in deep didn’t do much more than vibrate. It felt good, maddeningly good, but I knew it would never be enough to put me over the edge.

            “It’s not about your pleasure,” she said, gently using my ears as handles as she fucked herself against my face. “It’s about your service.” She paused, and I could feel the muscles in her legs tense enough to tell me she was ducking to the side a little. “And you haven’t even considered dropping that flag, have you?” she asked.

            I couldn’t have answered.

            I didn’t have to.

            “That’s my good boy.”