Just a Set of Fuck-Holes

The next adventure with our new toy: the spreader bar. My lovely, kinky German man delivered as promised. A night in which I enjoy a consensual gang-bang, being just a set of fuck-holes, until the end that is.

Just a Set of Fuck-Holes: A Consensual Gang-Bang

And here I am, a nearly naked shackled X bent at the middle. The lower part of the X is formed by my gorgeous new spreader bar. My ankles are wrapped in the supple leather that are its cuffs, unable to move. My torso is laid face down on the table. My arms are stretched out, tits squashed under me. My wrists are secured in leather shackles which you (rather ingeniously) attached with belts to the legs at the far end of table, forming the upper part of the X. There is no give at all, I cannot move.

You were kind enough to provide cushioning where the front of my hips press against the table.

My body is cinched into a black PVC corset that would expose my tits, if they weren’t getting all close and personal with the table. It ends just short of my hips. Both of my holes are plugged, my ass with a stainless-steel plug, with a ridiculous fake gem on the flared end, and my pussy with shocking-pink, heavy-weight pleasure balls, only the long loop of the handle poking out.

I’m also blindfolded. I feel like I am being stretched out and displayed on some kind of middle-age slightly cushioned torture device.

Your buddies arrived a little while ago, I can hear you talking and laughing in the den.

I hate waiting. But I love it at the same time. I’m imagining what’s in store for me tonight. How many times will I be fucked? And yeah, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a little bit scared, but I’m also extremely turned on and horny to get my wish. To just be a convenient set of fuck-holes for the evening.

The door opens and I swear, my heart rate doubles, a thrill of excitement thrums through me and settles in my stomach and my core. My clit actually pulses.

“I’m not serving a dinner tonight, so just dig in,” you tell them. There’s quite a feast laid out around me.

“Beers are in the fridge.”

Fucks sake, it’s like I’m not even here! Fuck-holes, I remind myself, thrilling higher.

A rattle of plates, people helping themselves to food. They talk and yep, there’s him of course. And oh fuckety-fuck, that’s my colleague there to the left. And two more whose voices I don’t recognise.

The humiliation of being ignored, it’s shooting me up there into the stratosphere of horn. I think I’m dripping past my pleasure balls.

For some obscure reason, 70s porn fills my mind. I’m behind the green door with Pamela Mann and oh, Dale Ardor; there’s something about running around naked, with fully-clothed men, being randomly groped. Mmmh.

“Yeah, she’s free-use for the night. Pussy or ass, take your pick. There’s an Edding beside the lube so we can keep a tally. If she makes it to ten, we’ll gather for a show, make her come for us. Use condoms.”

You tell them my safe-word and you all leave the kitchen.

The first time I saw Behind the Green Door, I was a sexual innocent. I’d only lightly dabbled in bondage, but nothing more than occasionally being tied up and fucked. That film opened my eyes to my secret desires. I wanted to be Gloria, I wanted those women to tease me out of my mind, before being fucked to orgasm by a well-hung man, then made to pleasure three guys at the same time. Oh yes, I wanted to be Gloria.

The door opens. Anticipation floods me. There is silence, but I know someone is there. I hold my breath, listening, my heartbeat pulsing in my head. Maybe I imagined it? But I know I didn’t. I draw in a breath, let it out.

There’s a gentle pull at my pussy, the handle of my pleasure balls tautens and moves back and forth. He’s hooked a finger into the loop and he’s using it to tease me! Then the pressure begins, he pulls downwards. My pussy does not want to release the balls, but he keeps up this gentle pressure, pulling the handle harder. The silicon stretches, then all at once my muscles release the first ball and the whole thing slithers out of me with a wet plop of a sound. Humiliating! Hot!

Familiar sound, a condom packet ripping. There’s a moment’s pause and I wonder which of you this is.

Pressure at my pussy and he slides home. He fucks rhythmically, there’s no finesse, no hammering, just a fuck that never changes pace, just using me as the fuck-hole I am. I wonder if he’s bored, just having a casual wank in me. It doesn’t take him long, his pace hitches a second and he pumps his load into the condom inside me.

The condom hits the bin you put next to my right ankle (convenient, right?) and a couple of tissues are pulled from the box next to my hips on the table. He cleans himself up, uncaps the pen, and a cold, long, vertical line is made on my right ass-cheek. The door opens, closes and I’m alone again.

I don’t think I’ve ever been fucked so unenthusiastically, weirdly, it made me even hotter.


There’s a scene in Flesh Gordon where this woman is inspecting the tits, pussies and asses of her underlings. All the while, Dale is tied up, awaiting her fate. She’s inspecting them to select which of her minions will torture Dale. It’s a hot scene and I want to be in it, but I don’t know which role I’d like to play. I’m musing about this when the door opens again. It’s barely been ten minutes since the first guy was here.

Another rip of a condom packet. This one’s not playing games with me. He pulls the plug out of my ass.

“Be still.” And oh my god, I’m about to be ass-fucked by the manager of software engineering!

Lube drips over me and he pushes himself at my asshole. He’s rock solid, so once he’s past the initial resistance, it’s a walk in the park. He’s not rough, but he’s thorough, sliding himself to the hilt with each thrust. His lube sticky balls keep kissing my cunt, and when I get used to the feeling of him filling me, I start to build. But this won’t make me come and I don’t want to, it’s enough to feel the heat. And, did I mention, I can’t move? (Grinning.)

He grunts out his orgasm, another condom hits the bottom of the bin and another line is drawn on my ass. He leaves the room.

Still thinking about the scene in Flesh Gordon. Gale lying there tied up, now surrounded by naked women, tits wherever she looks, the chosen minion getting to work on her. Still trying to work out which part I’d like to play in that scene, when the door opens again. Seems they’re all in a hurry now to use a fuck-hole.

Another condom is ripped open. This one chooses my ass too, but he’s not gentle. He thrusts in hard and fast, and I am really glad someone else was there before him to open me up. He goes at me like a jackhammer, his hips pistoning at my ass with a bruising intensity. My whole body tenses to help me take the fucking. It’s hard to relax my ass. I find my breathing quickens to match his thrusting and I find myself grunting each time his hips beat my ass.

My pubis is taking a battering and I make a note to thank you for the cushioning later. I grip the two belts hard and hold them in my fists, there is nothing else I can do except safe-word, but, for me, this is nowhere near safe-word territory. He finishes fast, and I let out a sigh of relief. He cleans himself up, marks me and leaves.

I gather myself. Do a mental check and assess how I feel. This happens in a split-second; I know exactly how I feel. I’m getting to this gorgeous level of horn now, slipping into sub-space. That fuck was borderline, but it was still fully acceptable.

The door again and my heart starts off a tattoo, the speed of it akin to the last guy’s fucking. I bite my lip.

“Be easy, little bird.”

His voice a soothing balm, my whole body relaxes. He applies the obligatory condom, even though lately we have been fucking skin-on-skin. He slides into my pussy as though he belongs there, his fucking a horny familiarity. All too soon he is done. He strokes my cheek, adds his mark to my ass and vacates the room.

You come next. You check in with me that I am still ok, making sure of it before you lube yourself up and sans condom, you claim my ass. You fuck me tenderly, lovingly until you grunt and shudder out your orgasm. I feel you pulsing inside, relish being used by you, as I always do. You cross a line through the other four.

There is a break. You all come in to eat and I am ignored again, and rightly so. I am just set of fuck-holes tonight. Someone spills something that feels like mayo on my shoulder. Noone bothers to clean it up. You all get back to your game, leaving the door open.

I’m not thinking about anything anymore, just feeling my body. My arms and shoulders are tired, my ass feeling stretched and vaguely sore, my pussy alight with desire. My thighs are feeling shaky from standing so long in the same position. My mood is euphoric.

Someone comes in and another condom packet is ripped open. A pussy fuck, pretty sure from the beating and intensity that it’s guy number three again.  Of course, it takes him longer this time and I’m glad he’s decided on my pussy. He hammers fast and furiously into me. I’m gripping your belts, the fronts of my hips and my pubis bruising against the table. My fuck-hole takes him. It’s rough, but unexciting. My mind drifts back to Gale on the table, that’s the part I want to play.

Number three finally comes, the condom dropped into the bin, and he begins the marking of my left ass-cheek.

The next guy comes in, he chooses my ass. The technique is the same as earlier. It’s my colleague with his long gentle stroking cock, and his balls sticking against my clit and pulling away over and over. I let myself get lost in his fucking, it’s slow, but because of the kissing rhythm of his balls, I find myself building again. My breathing matches his, and I answer his grunts with mmmhs.

“Ahhh, good. Good girl.”

He comes inside me, marks me and leaves.

The boring fucker, number one takes his turn after. There’s really nothing more I have to say about this guy. I’m sure he’s a decent enough bloke, or you wouldn’t have invited him. It’s just the fucking that’s so boring. But after my colleague building me up, it’s certainly not unpleasant. He comes, I’m marked, he departs.

Then he comes back into the room.

He strokes his rock-hard cock over my clit until I groan, then slides it inside me and fucks me, every so often slipping it out for a bit of clit teasing. Before long, I am moaning. He comes over my ass, and leaves it dripping, gives me my ninth mark. He pats my jizz covered ass affectionately.

I’m one away from my own release, feeling sore, wide open and desperately slutty. Stupidly hot and horny.

You come into the room, trace a line over my ass, through his cum and I shiver. You make a question out of his name and I nod slightly. You grunt an acceptance of his defiance and remove my blindfold. The other four men are standing around the table. I recognise your two buddies now, we met them at a party last summer. One smiles shyly and blushes, and I am hit with a certainty, that he was not the boring fucker.

My ankles are freed from the leather cuffs. You rub your warm hands over them, soothing them. At your request, my wrists are freed and held instead by the strong hands of my colleague and one of your buddies. Their human touch, your touch fills my sub-space with cotton wool and I relax into it.

More lube is dripped over my crack and you push yourself into my cunt and fuck me. They watch impassively, sipping beer. You slide your cock out and push it into my widened ass. It hurts and I can’t help a little groan. You get yourself close.

“Would you?” My wand-vibrator comes into my line of vision, you pass it to him. He gets down under the table and presses it to my clit, switches it on and ramps it up.

My jelly-like thighs want to buckle, but the strong hands hold my arms in place. He slides all four fingers into my cunt and teases my g-spot. I ride the edge of my orgasm for the longest time, then you come. You grunt with your orgasm, and it sets me off, coming in a rush of warmth that hits me so hard I feel senseless with the intensity of it, his hands guiding me through.

You mark my ass a tenth line while I’m still riding the waves of my orgasm.

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