Back in February, Milord, as per our rules, sent me text: Session tonight. Eat a light, early dinner. Wear your cupless bra, a button shirt, skirt, and collar. Be standing in the play room blindfolded by 7:00 p.m. Expect a few friends.
And so, I did as he said. Preparing for the session is a mixed bag of emotions – resentment at not knowing what’s going on quickly overpowered by excitement at not knowing what’s going on.
I was in place at the time appointed, but true to his ways, Milord wasn’t. Actually, I was to be in place at 7, not him, so I guess he wasn’t late at all. Finally, the door to the play room opened and I heard several male voices mixed with the clinking of ice against a glasses.
“Gentlemen, let me introduce you to a well trained submissive. She will speak only when spoken to. Isn’t that right, Miranda?”
Yes, Milord
“Perfect. Now notice, gentlemen, how well she follows directions. Miranda, please remove your skirt.”
Gulping I did so. Another man asked, “How long did it take you to train her so well?”
“We’ve been together for years. Training a submissive is very much like training your body. It’s an on-going process. Go ahead, gentlemen, feel free to explore your body.”
And they did. My blouse was unbuttoned, my nipples pinched, my ass slapped, my wetness checked. I was truly on display and could do nothing about it – okay, not true – I could have used my safe word AND I wasn’t bound. Again, not true. I WAS bound. By my own agreement to following our rules.
“It’s amazing how wet she is,” a man commented.
“Yes. She is very responsive.”
Milord went on to explain how our training began, our agreement of rules and consequences and why he insists on inviting others to witness sessions sometimes. during all of this, I stood as still as possible, panting, getting wetter by the minute as strange hands explored my body. Soon, I was stripped naked except for the collar and blindfold.
“Now, it’s time for your challenge, Miranda. I want you to prove to these gentlemen that you know my co
ck so well that you can recognize it without seeing it. You will kneel down and suck each of our cocks. Keep track in your mind because once we have all come I will ask which cock was mine. Oh, and no hands. You will give me the correct number. You will be caned 10 strokes for each time you make a mistake in number. Kneel.”
SO EASY!! I know the exact taste and feel of Milord’s cock in my mouth better than I know the feel of my own tongue in my mouth! The only problem was I had no idea how many men there were and I had to keep track of which one was him.
The first man was long a skinny and came very quickly. Per Milord’s orders, each man would pull out of my mouth before coming and spray his essence across my face and chest. The second man was rather stubby. The third – THAT was Milord’s perfect cock. Thick, slamming against the back of my throat with authority. It took every of self control I had not to reach up to touch his balls. After him, three more men took their turn. By the time they finished, my jaw felt like it was unhinged and my chest and face were sticky with cum in various stages of drying.
“Miranda, you have performed faultlessly. I’m so proud of you,” Milord stated. “Now, are you ready to prove your love your me by identifying who I was?”
“You were number 3, Milord,” I answered immediately.
Silence. More silence. I began to doubt myself. Then, applause. I felt his hand on my head and he said, “Very well done. Sit back on your heels now or shift to a more comfortable position there on the floor. The men and I would like to enjoy the view while we finish our drinks and conversation.”
Some time later, Milord escorted his guests out. Still, I waited. He had not given me permission to move. Soon, he returned to the playroom.
“You performed well, Miranda, but you a beautiful mess at the moment. I love that look on you. How are you feeling?”
“Proud, Milord, and a bit humiliated at the same time.”
He laughed and removed the blindfold, pulled my head back and kissed me deeply.
“Crawl over to the chair, Miranda, and lean against the cushion. Only touch it with your arms. I’m going to make love to you now as a reward, but you’re so covered in cum, I don’t want your body to touch the furniture. Understood?”
I grinned up at him. He was going to make love to me!!! I couldn’t be happier! It had been three days since I had his cock inside of me.
“Understood, Milord. Understood.”
Anarie Brady 